Witch Of The Federation VI

  Federal Histories™ 06

  Michael Anderle

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2020 Michael Anderle

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design

  http://jcalebdesign.com / jcalebdesign@gmail.com

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, July 2020

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-64971-074-1

  Print ISBN: 978-1-64971-075-8

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Creator Notes - Michael Anderle

  Books by Michael Anderle

  Connect with the author

  The Witch Of The Federation Book VI Team

  Thanks to our JIT Readers

  Dave Hicks

  Diane L. Smith

  Peter Manis

  Daniel Weigert

  Jackey Hankard-Brodie

  Deb Mader

  Veronica Stephan-Miller

  James Caplan

  Kerry Mortimer

  Larry Omans

  If We’ve missed anyone, please let us know!

  Editor

  The Skyhunter Editing Team

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live The Life We Are

  Called.

  Chapter One

  Marcus, Gemma, and Trey were still blowing themselves up when Professor Nathan Fellon rejoined them. It had been two very long weeks since he’d been able to participate, and they still struggled to find solutions.

  It had been as entertaining as hell, though, from the snippets he’d been able to see while away resolving things so he could join the project full-time.

  He’d arrived with a smile of anticipation, but it faded quickly when Professor Rimmer’s voice rang through the White Room.

  “Oh, for fu—” the professor began and Cynthia cleared her throat warningly.

  “Pity’s sake!” he finished at a roar.

  His assistant was implacable. “It’s time to take a break, Doc. Don’t make me come in there.”

  Marcus scowled but he capitulated. “You heard the lady, people. It’s break time.”

  “Well, thank fuck for that,” Gemma told him, “or we’da been here all night and I desperately need a pee.”

  “So it’s your fault then?” Nathan asked. “Your bladder got the better of your concentration and you blew us all to hell?”

  She snorted and exited with more haste than grace. “Nate, if I’d blown us all to hell, we wouldn’t have made it to the White Room.”

  “I hate you all,” said the biggest man in the room. “That last one hurt like a motherfucker.”

  Cynthia cleared her throat again and leaned on the doorframe to the lab, drumming her fingertips against her biceps while she tapped her foot.

  Even Marcus got the message. “It’s time to head out, guys. We’ll sleep on this and get back to it in the morning. Bring me your best ideas—hell! Bring me any ideas, even if your two-year-old thought it up with a fistful of crayons and some cardboard. I’ll consider everything.”

  Gemma snorted and slapped his shoulder as she passed. “Will do, but I have to warn you, my two-year-old gave up on crayons when she discovered fingerpaint and sparkles.”

  “Sparkles?”

  She laughed at the look of bewilderment on his face. “Glitter, Rimmer. Sparkles is glitter. Man, where have you been living? In a lab or something?”

  “I… Well, yes, but that sounds promising. I mean, magic sparkles, right? I’m thinking any idea coming from a glitter-fueled two-year-old has potential.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Was that… Did you… Did you make a joke, Marcus?”

  The comment made him blush, and he raised a hand to rub the back of his head. “I do have a sense of humor, you know…”

  That made them all chuckle. They were still smiling when they passed him to reach the door. Phillip hesitated briefly and for a minute, the boy looked like he had something more he wanted to say, but then he turned and left.

  Marcus frowned and looked at Cynthia. “What was that all about?”

  “He merely wanted to say goodbye,” she explained, “but he’s as bad as you used to be and couldn’t find the words.”

  “As bad as…I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

  She smiled and pointed to the door. “You’re the last one, Doc, and Catering will be truly upset if you ruin another meal.”

  “I…” He looked at his terminal and she scowled.

  “I mean it, Doc. You put me in charge of looking after the team’s health and well-being and you are the worst one I have to ride herd on. I will pull the plug.”

  He glared at her, but after one more glance at the screens, he sighed. “Fine, but I’ll have an early start in the morning. Don’t make me late.”

  Cynthia was unperturbed. “You do know that if you get a good night’s sleep, you’ll blow yourself up a whole lot less in the morning, don’t you?” she reminded him acerbically.

  “Thank. You. Cynthia,” he ground out and stalked out of the room.

  He didn’t see the tiny smile that curved her lips as he left but he didn’t need to. He knew she was smiling, dammit!

  His assistant followed him out, shaking her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Professor.”

  She used his title, again—something she did when he’d done the right thing as if her recognition of it was a reward.

  And it worked, dammit! He knew he was on the right track when she called him Professor or even Doc, and he liked it when she approved, even if he wasn’t interested romantically. If she’d been single, maybe, but she wasn’t.

  Marcus pushed that thought aside, managed a smile, and raised his hand in farewell. “Thanks, Cynthia.”

  She was picking her keys and handbag up when he surfaced and she gave him a happy smile as he emerged. “Your meal’s waiting, Doc. See you tomorrow.”

  He watched her go before he made his way to the tiny staff kitchenette to find he didn’t need to heat his supper. It was still covered and hot. With a sigh, he sat and reflected on the past two weeks and their various attempts, none of which had succeeded.

  It had been one hell of a ride, though.

  As he mulled over the day’s work, he ate what Catering had provided and then headed to the car park. If the truth be told, he didn’t want to go home but he had to. The university had refused to provide him with a room.

  Marcus sighed. Maybe he could speak to One R&D about that.

  It was no secret that he hated leaving the lab—even if it was still there when he returned in the morning.

  Sleep was hard to come by that night and when it did, it was plagued by dreams. He returned the next morning but felt worse than when he’d left. Cynthia took on
e look at him and frowned.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?” she demanded.

  He managed a bleary-eyed glare and took the coffee she handed him.

  “I tried but I didn’t sleep very well,” he replied. “I dreamed.”

  “And did your dreams come up with a solution?” she pressed.

  After a gulp of coffee, he shook his head. “Not unless you count being blown up another half a dozen different ways as a solution.”

  “So, you know what not to try?” she asked, and the slight smile was back.

  Despite his mood, he couldn’t help but return it. “I know what not to try,” he agreed and sighed. “But I’ll have to try it anyway if only to confirm it officially.”

  She grimaced. “That sucks,” she agreed and took his cup as he drained it. She put it on a lab counter and gestured toward their pods. “Shall we?”

  He grimaced but nodded. “We shall.”

  “Cheer up, Professor. It’ll be fun.”

  “You’re not the one in charge of finding the solution. Worse, I’m fairly sure Nathan and Trey plan to ambush me on the way out of the lab so they can get payback,” he grumbled and closed the lid of the Virtual Reality pod over him.

  “You know they’re far too nice to do anything of the sort,” Cynthia told him shortly.

  Marcus didn’t acknowledge that with a reply, partly because he was in a hurry to get to his terminal and partly because Nate, Trey, and Gemma were waiting for him when he arrived.

  “So,” the woman demanded, “did you come up with anything?

  “Only about six ways I’m reasonably sure will cause us to explode in spectacular fashion,” he replied and they groaned.

  He caught sight of his assistant at the back of the room. She cocked an eyebrow at him and he remembered what she tried so hard to instill in him.

  “How about you?” he added, a little uncomfortable because he wasn’t used to asking.

  Trey grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re getting better at this whole human thing, Doc, but I’ve got nothing.”

  “Me, neither,” Nathan added, and Gemma grinned.

  “What they said, Doc.” She moved toward her terminal. “So, which way did you want to use to explode us first?”

  Marcus stared after them in surprise. “You don’t want to discuss this?”

  Their head-shakes were unanimous as the others filed past him to their work areas.

  He stared at Gemma. “Did you even bring me any sparkles?”

  She laughed. “Sorry, Doc. The two-year-old switched to crayon, sans cardboard, and I spent most of last night with a scourer and bleach getting it off the walls.”

  “Did you even dream?” he persisted, and she turned and rested a hand on her hip.

  “Boss, I never dreamed a two-year-old could make a single crayon cover that much wall, let alone what one could do with six different colors.”

  Trey snickered. “I’m so glad I’m single.”

  “Keep up with comments like that, Trey baby, and you’ll have to explain to whatever partner you find why you can’t have offspring.”

  He responded with a pained whistle and settled into his seat. “Come on, boss. Let’s see you prove your first theory wrong and not blow us up, today.”

  It was a short-lived hope. They got the centrifuge to spin the gMU into eMU and send it out along the pipes and branches. Once again, the magic made the journey to the bulbs at the end of each line and successfully drew the radiation out of the soil and surrounding landscape.

  And once again, the magic brought the radiation into the system and returned successfully along the pipes. Marcus held his breath and his entire body grew tense with anticipation. In only a few seconds, he’d find out if his dreams had steered him right or not.

  “Sonuvabitch!”

  The lab flashed out of existence and the team landed in the White Room.

  “Well,” Gemma began, “that has to be a new record.”

  “In more ways than one,” Nathan concurred.

  “Now, tell me that was what the dream said would happen,” Trey added.

  “Wait. We did science based on a dream?” Phillip sounded as though he didn’t believe it.

  “I had to disprove a theory,” Marcus said and chose to answer his ex-student first before he turned to the others. “So, does anyone have a theory on ways we could do that and maybe not blow up?”

  He looked around the room and was dismayed when all of them shook their heads.

  “It was a good try, Doc.” Trey tried to console him but sounded resigned. “But your dreams were right. It was a surefire way to blow us all to kingdom come. What have you got for us next?”

  “More of the same, I’m afraid,” he told them and they all groaned. He scowled. “Well, do you at least want to take a look at the idea to see if you can tell me why it won’t work or how we can tweak it so it does?”

  “Sure thing, Doc.” Nathan sighed.

  The White Room shifted around them and a moment later, they stood around a large table in the center of another room. Marcus didn’t waste any time. He stepped forward and explained the theory behind what he wanted to try next. It looked sound, exactly like all the theories before it.

  Nathan studied it, his head tilted in concentration. Finally, he pointed at one part of the equation. “What if we switch this…” He picked a marker up and circled the formula “With this.”

  They craned forward and each studied the options intently. “It’s not a bad alternative,” Gemma conceded and picked up a marker of her own. “You know…we could also try this.”

  She wrote her alternative below the other two and combined elements from both formulae. With a glance at Phillip, she asked, “So, what do you say, Prof? This is much more your field than mine.”

  The boy blushed at her recognition but stepped forward dutifully and selected another marker. When he was finished, Trey nodded in approval.

  “Well, that gives us alternatives, anyway. What do you say, Doc?”

  Marcus scrutinized the original formula and the alternatives and considered each carefully with what he believed was an open mind. “I say we’ve probably found four more ways to explode but I damned well hope not.” So maybe it wasn’t that open after all. Still, at least he’d tried.

  They chuckled softly at that and headed to the lab.

  “Let’s try them,” Marcus agreed. “Cynthia could you take a photo of that whiteboard and send it to our consoles, please?”

  An hour later, when they came to in the White Room for the sixth time, he looked at Cynthia. “I think we need a break,” he said.

  “Hell, man,” Trey interjected. “We need more than a break. We need a drink!”

  “Uh-uh,” Gemma protested. “We don’t need a drink. We need all the drinks.”

  “You have a two-year-old, remember? And you’re not allowed to drink and drive,” Nathan remonstrated.

  She stuck her tongue out. “It’s not time to go home yet,” she informed him.

  “True,” Marcus agreed, “but none of us are allowed to drink and drive a console and we have a whole afternoon ahead of us.”

  “Ooh,” Trey snarked, “an entire afternoon of incinerating ourselves. I can’t wait.”