Dekker's Dozen: The Last Watchmen

DNIET Disaster

Dekker's Dozen #009

The comm crackled. Static broke into Dekker's solitude.

Salvation hung in complete blackness within the shadow of Earth's moon. Beyond, a steady influx of MEA ships had brought a decent force to muster near the planet—all defensible ships had been called home, it seemed. The lunar umbra provided a good vantage point for whatever might happen next.

Inside the command room, Dekker brooded in deep thought. He'd sat still long enough that the automatically lighting had switched off due to inactivity. The comm crackled again.

"This is Captain Johns of the Gallant. I'm trying to contact Dekker; I hope you're still in this system, somewhere. Please contact me." A long pause followed; this hadn't been Johns' first appeal. "I have disturbing information—something you will want to hear. I believe the three rebel ships that destroyed District Three were... under coercion."

Dekker turned his head and looked at the communication console; the lights shimmered on. He squinted as the illumination bit his eyes.

So many factors had interwoven through this mystery that the mental fatigue had begun eating away at his fortitude. He needed more minds working on it, and Nibbs had suddenly vanished: possibly an indication of yet another problem linked to the Red Tree.

DNIET Disaster

Nibbs' vision cleared to a mild haze. The fever ravaging his body would not relent; but more menacing was a foreign voice that whispered inside his mind. It contended with his will for control of their body.

The investigator's dry, cracked lips threatened to split again as he croaked a guttural scream. His blurred vision gazed downward and Nibbs saw his chest. A network of veins like root tendrils bulged darkly; they wormed their pattern just beneath his skin. The wound on his abdomen looked vicious. Its ragged edges had blackened and Nibbs wondered how long he'd been unconscious.

The persistent, usurping voice was more than some hallucination caused by the infection in his body. Nibbs struggled to stand, but something anchored his feet and arms. He glanced back; the elder zombies who had captured him stood as statues, moored to the center of the Verdant Seven's circle.

Relaxing, Nibbs nearly collapsed. His vision split, doubled, and then reformed momentarily, fixed on the horrible item before him. Lying before the trunk of the red-leaved arbolean leader was the DNIET weapon the investigators had encountered at the research facility.

In the dawning terror of that, Nibbs found enough strength to stave off the next mental barrage. He had to stay strong; he had to escape and warn the Dozen!

Through the symbiont's connection, Nibbs could understand the Arbolean communication. As a maddening migraine gripped his head, he saw one of the elder apothecium drones retrieve the DNIET unit. Nibbs could hear the resonant voice in his mind, like a menacing breath. Install this within the Child of Destruction and call down Ragnarock; summon the Valkyries, they will rip through our enemies' ships like submerged reef on choppy sea.

* * *

"An informant sent us this wealth of information," Rita told her supervisor. As a broadcast personality, she had very little power in the stories that ran. Truthfully, she'd had very little interest in them up until now. The job had been a paycheck; her pretty face and charisma had been the doorway to a comfortable life. Life had just gotten much more interesting, however, and the entire galaxy seemed to erupt in chaos overnight. Curiosity had suddenly gotten the better of her, that is, as long as she could report the chaos from the security of their New Babylon broadcast center.