The straight question lands with a thudding impact. Of course Fournier agrees, with every nerve in his body. But his remit from Brigadier Fry runs in exactly the opposite direction.
“We mustn’t act in haste, Colonel,” he says. “This … this situation … Yes, we’re in a very bad spot. I accept that. We’ve suffered losses, and … and we’re still directly threatened. At risk. Very much at risk. But we’ve made a hugely important find. Surely it’s incumbent on us to assemble as much data as we can before leaving the site.”
Carlisle’s brows dip a little. “We’ve already left the site,” he points out, his tone flat. “And we have an intact specimen.”
“Yes,” Fournier admits. “Yes, of course. But I mean in the wider sense. We need to see how far this new phenomenon has spread. Take … take measurements, and observations. That merits a short delay, I think. A day. Perhaps two. No more than that.”
Abruptly Carlisle changes his mind and sits, with a half-stifled sigh. He stares hard at Fournier.
Fournier opens his mouth to speak again, but the colonel makes an impatient gesture that silences him.
“This is why I decided to speak to you alone,” Carlisle says, still fixing him with that searching gaze. “Doctor, the failure of the ship’s intracom wasn’t due to any accident or mechanical fault. Private Sixsmith informs me that a component is missing from the cockpit radio, which controls the intracom system as well as maintaining our only link to Beacon. Do you know anything about that?”
Fournier freefalls for a second before shaking his head vigorously. “No. Nothing. But how could that happen? Missing in what sense?”
“In the sense of having been removed. It took Sixsmith a long time to discover what was wrong. She had to go back to the schematics. The missing part is an intermediate frequency transformer. Small enough that its absence is hard to spot, but as it turns out absolutely crucial.”
“Why would anyone disable the radio?” Fournier asks. It sounds like an appropriate question for an innocent man to offer.
“I have no idea,” the colonel admits. “Possibly the aim was to make sure the radio wasn’t used to talk to the outside world, and the failure of the intracom was an unlooked-for side effect, but that’s just speculation. The reason I ask you, Doctor, is because of the timing of all this. The intracom failed shortly after we crashed that barricade back on the road. And I remember that when we were examining Rosie in the aftermath of that incident you came out to join us via the cockpit door. It’s the only time I’ve ever known you to use it.”
“It was the quickest way!” Fournier exclaims indignantly. Indignation feels highly plausible. “Good God! I’m under suspicion for choosing the wrong door?”
“My suspicion is spread fairly evenly at this point.”
“But surely after today Greaves has to be the most likely culprit? He clearly can’t be trusted. Whether it’s some mental aberration or a malicious act intended to … to …”
Fournier stops in mid-sentence. The only intention he can think of is the real one, the brigadier’s, as actioned by him. To prevent you from finding out that there has been a coup d’état in Beacon, in case you feel called on to interfere.
Carlisle shrugs. “I’m making no accusations. I asked you purely because I know you had the opportunity. As to the motive, well … I presume we can agree that it falls under the broad heading of sabotage?”
Reluctantly, Fournier nods. He doesn’t like the colonel’s choice of words. People get shot for sabotage. He thinks he has been discreet, but being a double agent in an enclosed space is an insanely demanding discipline. He can’t be sure he has left no clues behind him.
“And if it was sabotage,” Carlisle continues, “whoever carried it out wanted us to be unable to talk to Beacon. I can imagine some circumstances in which that would be an issue. All of them are extreme and unlikely, but then so is the prospect of a saboteur in this crew.” He is still examining Fournier’s face as he says this, with minute and clinical interest. Fournier does his best to look concerned, affronted and honest.
“How does this bear on our current situation?” he asks at last.
Carlisle shifts his weight in the chair, wincing again. “I should have thought that was obvious,” he says. “If someone wants us to stay incommunicado, then we have to return to Beacon as quickly and directly as we can. Your suggestion that we explore further makes no sense to me, especially in our weakened condition. We’re short-handed, some of the crew are traumatised and for all we know the feral children are still pursuing us. They seem to be outside the normal human range for both strength and speed, just as the hungries are. It seems very likely that they are hungries, of a new and unidentified kind. It’s imperative that we stay ahead of them, and it’s imperative that we return to Beacon in one piece to deliver what we’ve discovered. You understand me?”
“You make a strong case,” Fournier allows. “But still, in the interests of—”
“Doctor,” Carlisle cuts in, “the question was not ‘do you agree?’ but ‘do you understand?’ I’m not negotiating with you. I’m explaining to you what we are going to do. I expect you to go out there now and tell the crew that this is a decision we’ve reached together. If you feel unable to do so, I’m going to shoot you in the head and tell them myself.”
Fournier laughs at the absurdity of this image, but it stops being funny as he takes in the colonel’s sombre tone and the solemn, unhappy set of his face. He means it.
“Are you mad?” Fournier gasps.
“Possibly,” the colonel says. “But I don’t believe so. At any rate, I’m fully cognisant of what I’m doing, and I’ll take full responsibility for it. I intend to get this crew back to Beacon alive. If you propose any course of action that exposes them to further danger, you make yourself an active threat. In which case killing you becomes the least of several evils.”
“But …” Appalled, Fournier tries to cling to rationality. “You can’t just threaten me like that!”
“I don’t do it lightly, Doctor. When we get back to Beacon, you can report that I coerced you and threatened you with violence. I won’t contradict you. In the meantime, of course, it will have to be our secret. As I’ve already told you, I don’t want to compromise morale when it’s at such a low ebb.”
“We … We share this command. I have as much right as you to say what the mission is!”
“Up to now, yes. Not any more.”
The colonel draws his field pistol from its holster and lays it across his lap. He waits in silence, presumably for Fournier to decide between death and surrender.