Both of us rushed to the cockpit, and Rivo took the pilot’s seat, firing the ship up and lifting it off the deck with concise movements. It was a good thing she was flying it instead of me.
“You think this will work?” she asked.
“Only one way to find out,” I told her, and the hangar doors slid open, allowing us enough room to pass through the energy barrier and into space.
The viewscreen on the alien ship was narrow, almost like a fighter jet’s, and even from here, the wall of black and dark gray planetoids and smaller asteroids was imposing. It felt like they were closer now.
There were no other alien vessels on the radar, and I wondered how they kept track of their own ships. It appeared that while cloaked, even their allies had no idea where they were. We hoped this would play to our advantage.
Understanding we weren’t visible to the naked eye or their sensors, we raced away from the Horizon. We also had ceased communication with the bridge. Something inside the ship blocked our earpiece devices, but I did have one of the tablets from Fontem’s collection in my hand. Slate held the other on the bridge, and when the time came to move, that was how we were going to relay the signal.
The asteroids grew closer as we headed toward them, but now they took up the entire viewscreen. The spaces between the rocks appeared large from the vantage point of this compact vessel, but I knew if the Horizon attempted to move through the openings, it wouldn’t be able to come out the other side in one piece. There were a few layers behind it, the asteroids stacked not only above one another, but at least three deep, making the journey even more difficult.
We measured it, and they spanned over forty thousand kilometers, making it impossible to move around before the rocks intercepted our starship. We needed to trick them.
“Approaching the field wall,” Rivo told me.
I searched for any inter-alien vessel transmissions and saw a few blips on the radar beyond the wall. “Let’s move through. I’ve mapped the safest path,” I told her, shooting the flight path to her console from mine.
Rivo cautiously flew the alien vessel through the first few asteroids, which had to be at least fifty kilometers in diameter. I searched for any visible signs of energy barriers or thrusters built into the asteroids, but didn’t see any.
Rivo slowed as a small rock moved directly in front of our ship, and headed around it, passing by another layer of the large rocks. A few minutes later, we emerged unscathed on the other side of the asteroid field. From here, there was nothing to see but stars among the blackness of space.
“Dean, where are they?” Rivo asked. We’d been expecting to intersect a large fleet of the round black ships, but there was nothing on the other side.
“They might be cloaked like we are,” I told her.
I grabbed the communication tablet and wrote a quick message to Slate. On the other side. No enemies in sight.
I waited a moment, seeing the message glow orange, indicating he’d read it. Nothing here either. Stay put.
“Dean, look.” Rivo pointed to the wall of massive asteroids, their spacing too close for a starship to pass through, but not for the incoming alien vessels. Five of them blinked out of their cloaks, exposing themselves to us.
“They can’t see us?” I asked, and Rivo shook her head.
“What are they doing?” she questioned, leaning forward in her seat as she zoomed the image in. Rivo targeted the sights on a solitary ship; the round black vessel’s nose jutted out at the cockpit, letting us differentiate the front end from the stern.
“I don’t know.” I stood closer for a more precise viewpoint. The entire ship was vibrating, and I saw the distortion now. “It looks like a pulse.”
“I think they’re… yes, watch this.” She pointed at the asteroid beside the alien vessel. “They’re moving the asteroid. That’s how the rocks are being shifted. It must be some sort of magnetic pulse. The alloy in the rocks. There’s metal in the composition, and they’re repelling the planetoids into a shape, in this case a wall, to prevent us from passing through.”
“They’re fast too. Can you figure out how to do that?” I asked, a new idea forming.
Rivo worked on the computer system, translating the commands into Molariun. We watched as more enemy vessels appeared before vibrating and piloting their own asteroids. This went on for ten minutes, but Rivo finally was confident she understood how the magnetic system worked.
“Good, bring us to an open spot. There,” I said, pointing at the radar screen. “We’ll blast a hole large enough for the Horizon to sneak through in hyperdrive.”
“I think I can manage that.” Rivo maneuvered us farther away from the prying eyes of the round ships, and toward the spot I’d selected. Here, we’d only have to move three larger planetoids, and I grabbed my communication tablet as Rivo initiated the procedure. Our ship shook, and I strapped myself into a seat on the side wall of the cockpit, struggling to write a message. Eventually, I relayed what we were doing and gave them the coordinates to set course for.
Are you sure this will work? No one up here likes the idea of using the hyperdrive through that field, Slate’s return message said.
Do it. Wait for my message. Hit engage when you see: NOW appear. Is that clear? I hit send.
Yes, Boss.
“Rivo, let’s make our path,” I said, and Rivo activated the magnetic pulses. She directed them at the large asteroid near us, sneaking in behind it first, then aiming it away. We were no longer cloaked, and already we were intercepting messages and communications pinging in from the other alien vessels. We ignored them. There wasn’t much time. If they found out what we were doing, they’d come and destroy us without thinking twice.
Our small ship pressed the first pocked rock away. It was a few kilometers in diameter and misshapen like a stepped-on cantaloupe.
“Come on, Rivo, we have to move faster. They’re coming,” I said, and she raced behind the next asteroid in line. It pressed away from our magnetic pulses, and then there was one.
I zoomed in, seeing the stationary form of Horizon waiting for my command. They’d only have one shot. I double-checked the coordinates, and when I was confident they’d work, I started to write on the tablet.
“Dean, it’s too big. It’s not moving quickly enough!” Rivo was panicking, and I noticed four uncloaked alien ships directing toward us on the radar. Angry messages carried through our speakers, and we ignored them too.
“Give it everything you can!” I shouted over the cacophony of noises.
Rivo was sweating, beads running down her thin blue neck. She let out a primal growl as the ship shook harder and faster. I saw the huge ten-kilometer-wide rock press away, our thrusters holding us in place, and I hit send. NOW.
Rivo moved out of the way, and our radar showed an icon flash by us to the other side of the asteroid field barrier.
“They did it!” I shouted, but the cheer was short-lived. We were surrounded by the deceived aliens.
Twenty-One
Rivo cut the magnetic pulses and flew toward the most open spot amid the enclosing ring of attackers. I glanced to the radar and saw a massive icon looming over the small alien ships.
“The Horizon,” Rivo whispered. We saw the tractor beam shoot out, and Rivo raced for the yellow light, the other ships giving chase. Pulse cannons blasted the rocks near us as they attempted to strike the small ships weaving around us.
Get ready! The message from Slate appeared on the tablet.
Rivo entered the tractor beam as a blast from behind us struck the rear edge of the ship, and seconds later, we were a few thousand kilometers away, the ship pulling out of hyperdrive.
“That was close,” I said, relaxing into my seat.
The tractor beam cut off, and Rivo, still speechless, flew us into the awaiting hangar bay. All I could hear were her adrenaline-filled breaths, and soon we landed safely on the floor.
Rivo turned in the pilot’s seat as the ship powered off. I expected her to be
angry, stressed… anything but…
“That was awesome! I love going on missions with you, Dean. They’re so much fun!” she said, unstrapping herself from the chair.
I stood, feeling her embrace. “Can you keep the excitement to a minimum? My wife’s going to be angry enough at me for leaving unannounced. Let’s not let her know how fun it was,” I said, unable to muster the same joy at nearly dying as Rivo did.
She’d been through a lot. She’d come a long way since that emaciated prisoner of Lom’s robopirates. She’d lost her fiancé then, and her life path had changed since that moment. She went from being a rich princess to becoming a fighter, who was defined by more than her last name, Alnod. It helped that she was a killer pilot too.
“Fine, but wasn’t that great? I mean, we did it!” she exclaimed.
We walked over the ramp, which didn’t open all the way to the floor. One of the hinges had been damaged in the attack, and we had to climb down the last five feet.
The hangar door sprang open and Mary was there, with Slate right behind her.
She gave me a hug, and I saw the anger in her face. But she kept it in check and kissed me. “You did it!”
“Rivo did most of it,” I admitted.
“We’re free. Right on course for Mion V9. Good work, team,” Slate said with pride.
“No pursuit?” I asked.
“Not that we can see. It didn’t appear their ships had FTL anyway, so we should be in the clear. Thanks for the quick thinking, guys,” Slate said, and Rivo left with him, chatting his ear off.
Mary grabbed my arm and pulled me close. “I thought you were done with these crazy impromptu missions?”
I shrugged. “I can’t seem to help myself.”
“Let’s go. It sounds like we’re going to have a little party in the courtyard tonight. Celebrate making it through,” Mary said.
“You’re letting me off that easily?” I asked, knowing I should keep quiet on the subject.
“You did what you had to do. You always will,” she said, smiling at me.
“How are you?” I asked, motioning to the growing baby inside her.
“Great. Better than ever,” she said, and I could tell she meant the words.
____________
Months in transit on a starship can either be exhilarating or boring. I found this to change with each passing day. We found no altercations for the duration of our trek across unknown territory, and we veered clear of any planets that might have lifeforms on the surface.
The Gatekeepers continued their endeavor to research and catalog each symbol world from our expanded Crystal Map, and Jules’ birthday party went off without a hitch. The entire child population from our starship was there, except for one of the Padlog, who was off molting or doing some transformation or another.
I couldn’t believe my little girl had turned five. She was growing up before my very eyes.
We were still two months from reaching Mion V9, and Slate and I were working on our plan of attack along with Weemsa, Walo, and Rivo. We knew next to nothing about Mion V9, except that the race was long vanished from the world. The Rutelium was priority one for our starship’s mission, but my goal was finding out what happened to the shrunken world on board our vessel.
“It’s going to be hard to find anything. Do you think they may have scribbled it on a cave wall and we’ll find the reversal information free for the taking?” Walo buzzed.
“No, I doubt it will be that simple. But we’ve had far more hopeless missions, so I think we’ll be able to extrapolate what we need,” I told her.
“Magnus is dead set on the mines, so don’t expect me to be able to assist on this one, Boss,” Slate said. “We’re going to be setting up camps around the planet, testing the mines for the most potent Rutelium, as well as the densest locations. From there, we’ll set the mining robots up, and proceed with our first factory.”
“I hate that we’re leaving a contingency there,” I told him. Fifty of our crew members wouldn’t be returning with us, and that worried me.
“They all volunteered for the job, Dean,” Rivo said. Alnod Industries had supplied most of the mining equipment, and I suspected the volunteers were also being compensated for their efforts. I didn’t press the subject.
“Weemsa, you have the drones all ready? We’ll need to map this planet quickly. I want to know where their cities were located, and we’ll start our search on the most populated regions,” I said.
“This might take a while, Dean,” Rivo said.
“Magnus said the initial mine setup will take up to five months, so we’ll have at least that long. With all the Gatekeepers working on this mission at once, I’m confident we’ll have our answer in a month,” I said.
Weemsa nodded his long neck. “I agree with your conclusion. We’ll help the world, don’t you worry.”
For some reason, we’d all become attached to the small planet, sitting in the container in the center of the boardroom table. It was hard to believe the entire world was frozen in time, a tiny construct without hope, unless we were able to assist them.
“We’ll start with…” My arm console beeped, and I saw the message. Med bay. Now!
It was from Mary, and that could only mean one thing. She was having the baby.
“I have to go. Keep talking without me!” I hurried out of the room without another word, leaving them all in suspense. Slate was going to kill me. I stopped halfway down the hall and rushed back, peeking my head into the boardroom. “Mary’s having the baby!” And with that, I was off once again.
____________
“Papa, what’s his name?” Jules asked, tugging on my shirt.
I met Mary’s gaze. Her hair had been brushed, no longer matted to her forehead with sweat, and she was exhausted. No matter how advanced our health care became, some things, like childbirth, still required the same motions.
“We haven’t decided yet, Jules,” Mary told her. Our son was swaddled in a blanket, sleeping soundly in his mother’s arms.
Part of me kept thinking he’d be born with green eyes like Jules, that somehow the Iskios would still have partial control over Mary’s DNA, but when he’d first blinked them open, they were dark, no sign of glowing green to be seen. Relief had flooded me, but I thought I sensed disappointment from Jules when she learned her baby brother wasn’t different like her.
“What do you think we should name him?” I asked.
Jules contemplated this, frowning in the way she did when there was a puzzle too large to solve. I laughed, and she didn’t appear to appreciate it. “How about Riimon?”
“Riimon?” I asked. “Where did that come from?”
“It’s an old Molariun name. It’s Auntie Rivo’s grandpapa’s name,” Jules told us, crossing her arms.
“We’ll probably stick to something a little more… traditional,” Mary said. I could tell she was ready to sleep, and I scooped the baby from her arms. Mary smiled at me, and I held our child. Our family was growing, and I couldn’t have been prouder of our little unit than at this moment. We were four now, five with Maggie.
He was so light in my grasp, only six or so pounds, and drool escaped from between his lips. “I’ll settle him for a bit and take Jules for something to eat. Then maybe you can try for a few hours of sleep.”
Mary reached out and held Jules’ hand. “Sounds good. How about… Hugo?”
“Hugo.” I tested the name on my tongue and found it stuck well. “You remembered.”
“Who’s Hugo?” Jules asked.
“Hugo was your grandfather’s name. I love it,” I told her, and did.
Jules walked over to the clear bin holding her sleeping brother. “Hello, Hugo.” She touched his cheek gently. “I’m Jules. I’m going to protect you.”
For some reason, her words sent chills through my spine, but they were harmless, a promise of a big sister.
Mary’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Hugo.”
I leaned over and kissed my wife on the fo
rehead, then the lips. She placed a warm hand on the back of my neck. “Don’t be too long.”
“I won’t,” I assured her. “Get some sleep.”
She nodded, and I took Jules’ hand, leading her out of the room and into the waiting area of the medical bay.
“Everything good?” Slate asked as he rushed over to our side.
I clapped him on the arm. “Everything’s wonderful.”
They were all there sitting patiently. Magnus and Natalia were with Dean and Patty, playing on their tablets. Jules ran over to her friend and started telling her about her baby brother Hugo, and everyone listened along, smiling and laughing.
“Hugo. Good name,” Nat said.
“Congratulations, Dean!” Suma’s snout twitched, and Silo held her hand. His face was grim, sallow and pale since the surgery, but he was recovering nicely. He was already beginning to use an artificial limb, and Suma was always at his side when she could be. I was truly beginning to like the Shimmali science officer more all the time.
“Thanks, Suma. She’s doing great, and so is baby Hugo,” I exclaimed. I watched Jules and couldn’t believe I was a father again. We were going to do this one more time. The late nights, early mornings, changing diapers, and breast-feeding. At least this time, we could do it from the comfort of our suite on the starship, which was really going to help. Last time Mary gave birth, it was on Sterona right after we’d been rescued, and we’d spent the first few months on Starbound with the Keppe.
I guess we were making a tradition of it.
“When can we see him?” Suma asked.
“Let’s go find something to eat. We’ll visit in a couple of hours,” I suggested, and we all filed out except for Nick, who shook my hand and tousled Jules’ hair, to her chagrin.
“Congratulations again, Dean. You have a wonderful family,” he told me when everyone else had left.
“Keep an eye on them for me, would you?” I asked, and he smiled, assuring me he would.
New Horizon (The Survivors Book Nine) Page 18
