White Wizard - Cover

White Wizard

Copyright© 2014 by Feral Lady

Chapter 2

Webster Mission Log: Summary
Protective Protocol Alpha Omega One ordered by Captain establishes continuous monitoring and assistance of the target subject without human supervision until relieved. This is the broadest set of discretionary powers within my logic scale. Autonomous readiness updated to combat readiness, primary processing dedicated to the protection of away crewmembers. The secondary processing server has been assigned maneuvering, maintenance, and repair responsibilities. Initial examination of crew escape capsule reports safe landing. This is a sub-optimal landing site, likely due to in-flight death of capsule navigator. One crewmember fatality reported, Captain of Lady Solon. Cadet-Commander Solon has minor damage in the hippocampus region of his brain; this is a concern since medical nanomites are not as effective in memory function repair. Deployed remote survey and observation platform reports no active search and rescue response from the planet. I extrapolate technology of planetary residents is insufficient to notify Wolfenstein Space Command of distress signal and effect required retrieval. The circumscription of my options for assistance provides the absence of direct intervention tools. Strategic game theory sub-routine to expand support options enabled. Systematic surveillance of geography around my ward enabled. Topography map to nearest human settlement scheduled for implant download with navigation to target. Maintenance and repair bots operating on hull breaches. Automatic repair command enabled in the event of future meteor damage.

Status Summary
Captain Stephen Solon Wolfenstein: terminated
Cadet-Commander Von Solon Wolfenstein: unconscious, minor internal bleeding, contusions
Main engine thruster: offline
Guidance thrusters: online
Point defense systems: online
Life support systems: offline
Survey systems: online
Remote spy platform: deployed
Long range communications torpedo: deployed
Crew count: zero
Hull integrity: breached

I rubbed at the dried blood covered eyebrow and opened my unfocused eyes. My left hand spasmed with that sensation of needles rather than circulation. I focused on the hand and shook blood into my white finger tips. The cranky sound of an air recycling fan made me aware of the surroundings. "Pod," I croaked through dry lips. Rotating my thick-feeling head left, a thin beam of fading sunlight above me caught my eye. "Observation window, "an uncertain feeling welled up in me, creeping into my conscious thoughts, something important happened to me. I came to full awareness seeing clearly for the first time the dull whitewashed walls of the escape capsule and a closed yellow blast door. Snapping my head right, a shock hit me like a hard punch, seeing Uncle Stephen's dead, open eyes. Suddenly feeling dizzy, my eyes flickered over the dead pilot's form, held upright by the yellow safety harness. "Aw," a deep sadness surrounded me. Quick short breaths filled my lungs as adrenalin pushed me to fight the straps holding me down, strong legs pushing with strain. "Shit, shit, shit," my scratchy voice rumbled, as a pressing ache of confusion pulsed in my mind. Comprehension of what was happening felt lost beyond the panic, fear and anger dominating me. Dark feelings of hopelessness fed my mind where memories should have been.

"Uncle, what happened to us!" I gestured furiously. "I know things, I feel things, I do not remember things," I uttered a tortured growl. Both hands grabbed release clips and my body shot up out of the seat. My head pounded out my vision, as a painful headache quickly seized all awareness. "Water idiot, need water," I muttered. Feeling light headed, I carefully stumbled to the nearest water tube station and unceremoniously collapsed into the ill fitting metal seat.

It might seem like an easy thing to suck water out of a rubber-like tube, but a dry mouth is not quickly quenched by a thin straw designed to preserve water. Some fine engineer spent hours insuring a regulated flow fit for a mouse would keep stranded crewmen from leaking vital supplies into space.

To read this story you need a Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In or Register (Why register?)