“Do I have a treat instore for you two!” His laugh is a loud barking staccato that reverberates off the heavy dank walls. Standing silhouetted by the brighter yellow hall lights, the dark mass of the doctor is rubbing his hands together. “Oh lighten up you two. Je-sus!” He punctuates the statement with a clap. “I see you’ve encountered a bit of a road block with the Oracle network – yes?” He says flatly while pointing a wiggling finger passed Darla and Trevor to the orange access denied prompt flashing on the computer terminal monitor. “Yeah. Bit above your pay grades I’m afraid. No matter, no matter. We’ve got lots to do, and you two will do just fine.” The doctor is in a surprisingly good mood given the circumstances in which he has found the two analysts. He almost seems manic, from what small snippets of interactions Trevor can remember of having with the man. UB313 runs cold, not just due to the icy rock it’s built into, but because the doctor who leads it is a frigid bastard, in most instances. Seeing the lean and usually taut doctor so animated is disquieting. The two analysts are sat, speechless as the prompt continues to flash in regular intervals. A soft click emanates from the speakers on the terminal as the prompt continually appears. Suddenly the coffee maker buzzes loudly causing the seated analysts to jump, their pulses racing, sweat beginning to bead at their brows. “Ok, enough lolly gagging you two. Shift!” He gestures with two fingers for them to stand up, as the doctor turns on his heel to stroll out from the darkness contained under the low ceiling and out into the brighter yellow glow of the hall. His shoe heels clicking rapidly on the floor with his steps. The soft splashing of his shoes through the gathered mungy puddles is an accent to the heel clicks. From deep under the overhanging rock ceiling the two analysts sheepishly stand up and shuffle slowly out into the hall way. Trevor pushes Darla to go out first, and stands behind her slightly. Darla kicks Trevor sharply with a heel. Standing like scolded children caught with their hands in the cookie jar, the two analysts stare at the doctor questioningly. From both ends of the long hallway groups of people descend on the doctor and the two gathered analysts. With a mild look of shock, and subtle hints to fear or disgust the two groups of people split apart and try to shuffle past the doctor and his entourage without touching them or making themselves a target. “Shift change.” Blurts out Darla as Trevor nods in acknowledgement. The doctor is stood facing the blinking computer screen, lifting his sleeves to look at his wrist watch. “Well kiddies, we have somewhere to be. Come along. I’ve got something exciting to introduce you to!” He chuckles and sputters into a brief cough. With a snap of his fingers he points up the hall, towards his personal office space, also in the direction of his surgical bay. “To the bridge then sir?” Darla ventures a question. “It’s doctor, and no.” He replies coldly. With both a clap of his hands and a snap of his fingers he steps forward and begins the long quiet walk along the now deserted hall, the two analysts in front of him.
After several steps the PA system kicks on and a loud garbled message plays. A status update from the away teams black box. Hard to discern which team it is that could be reporting back. The fact it’s a sexless monotone voice means that the black box itself sent the report and not a living member of one of the teams. “That’s not a good sign.” Mutters doctor Jang half heartedly to himself. “Damn!” He barks, still seemingly talking to himself. Darla and Trevor look at each other nervously as they walk slowly ahead of the doctor.
With a handful of steps later Trevor and Darla notice that the doctor is no longer only a pace or two behind them, but has come to a standstill. Rooting through his pockets he extracts a modified personal communicator the size of a match box with a tiny red light on it. Pulling up the antenna he waves it around himself in wide arcs, looking for a signal. With a huff and a frown he steps towards the far wall with all of the pipes and dangling cables tied onto it. Looking around he pushes aside some loose bundles of conduit hung up on hooks and locates a small panel buried in the wall. Pulling out a key from his chest pocket he unlocks the panel and pulls out some long spiraling leads. Plugging one of the leads into the base of his unit and the other lead he clips to the base of the antenna, the red bulb turns green as he achieves full signal strength. Darla mouths to Trevor. “What the fuck is going on? Are we in trouble? Do we just keep walking and hope he forgets about us?” And just as she finishes whispering to Trevor they can see doctor Jang waving at them emphatically. He beckons them to come closer. Trevor starts to speak but the doctor places his left hand over his mouth and nods side to side slowly. His lips are pursed and the colour is flushing his usually pale cheeks. An extremely tense moment later the black box begins to speak.
***Last transmission_Code ETA Omega level threat detected. Approximate coordinates sent via read only text link. Message repeats – Lil Boat Peep has ceased to submit transponder data. Crew whereabouts unknown. Crew status unknown. Asset not onboard. Asset not retrieved. Asset unaccounted for.*** with a violent crunch the doctor throws the clips off of the antenna to clatter loudly on the wall. Unplugging the bottom lead, and carefully packing away the antenna, the doctor stows his communicator back in his pocket. “This complicates things for me.” The doctor mutters aloud. Darla tries to suppress a cough but only manages to cough harder bringing doctor Jang out of his thoughts. “Yes. Right. Both of you to my office please. No! Wait. Darla. No, no, you go to my office and Trevor. Trevor you go around to the bridge please. We need to have a quick chat.” Doctor Jang flashes a menacing smile, baring a little to much of his teeth, and crinkling madly around the corners of his dark eyes.
Part Twenty Two: Ghost of the Dirty Starling.
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