“She deserved it,” Fluff grumbled.
The former corporal didn't respond. She only looked down at the floor, trying to remain as a rabbit hiding from wolves.
“Perhaps, you were both victims of the situation. There's always room in the universe for a second chance,” Tarot said.
“Spoken like a true believer,” Lasher whispered.
Morpheus reappeared in their HUDs. “I have a broadcast from Romeo. He's approaching the first of the sealed levels.”
The image was replaced by a first person view from Romeo. He'd taken the shape of a service bot, carrying a backup battery in front of him. For generations, the human race had been overlooking infiltrators based on an aged old belief that if something seemed like it belonged, why waste time finding out if it actually did? No one ever thought to stop the person – or bot – moving with a purpose carrying a spare part or a clipboard.
Romeo rounded the corner of the passage and encountered a set of heavy blast doors. A small hatch opened from the security panel, expelling a metallic sphere that glided in front of him, exposing a red glowing optical sensor.
“Trada ni skava. Neh wee Toh?”
Morpheus called over the net, “He's telling you that this is a restricted area and for you to state your purpose.”
Romeo's voice resonated more digital than normal. Each sentence was slow and measured, more like the simple fixer bots his disguise was patterned after. “I am to install a backup battery for the sensor cluster in section D-184. The current battery was logged as 81.4 percent depleted on last inspection.”
The hovering ball didn't respond.
“Tell me you have this handled, Morph,” Fluff grumbled into the ether.
Morpheus didn't respond. Neither did the little sphere hovering near Romeo's face plate. Tense seconds passed like molasses through a sieve. Lasher began to move toward the door, reaching for his Gavoc sword.
“Kel, it's Orin. We might have a problem. You should prime the engines for a hot start just in case. Yuzheff, have Doll ready to cast in and pick us up if we need it.”
Both ships sent back their acknowledgment. After another few seconds passed with no answers coming from any of the parties involved.
“Jujada. Nihonka domai weh,” said the little hovering bot.
The blast doors separated, opening into the secured cargo bay.
“What just happened?” Savoya asked.
“He has clearance to enter.” Morpheus reappeared. His hologram took on a decidedly disheveled approach, as if a college professor had just been asked to run a marathon while giving a thesis. “These sections are so far off the normal grid they even have separate security protocols. The drone had to jump into the main system to check the service record, all of which I had to fabricate before it could authenticate them. It was difficult.”
“Nice job, professor!” Jester pointed toward the projection.
“Thank you.”
The crew returned to watching the feed from Romeo as he walked through the monolithic doors into a dark space. He switched over to night vision, walking to the service panel where his battery was supposed to go. He set down the battery to open the access hatch, giving him a moment for furtive glances around the bay. Scurrying into the duct work, he found the battery node for the system he needed to replace.
“Wow. He actually found himself a battery to replace the actual battery. That's taking the spy thing to a whole new level,” Fluff said.
“The little orb also checked the backup battery to see if Romeo was telling the truth. Lucky for us the sensor clusters involved are all linked into the main hub. Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to drain the power to make it look legitimate.”
“How come Morpheus can go on a tirade about techno-goop and what not while everyone just listens and nods their heads like they know what he's talking about? I tell one bad joke…” Jester started.
“Only one?” Fluff said, hip checking the bot into a stack of boxes.
“Quiet. All of you. Romeo is coming out of the vent,” Tarot growled.
The room went quiet at the image before them. The entire cargo bay was filled with towers of tubes arranged in neat rows. At the front of each row was a two-meter tall cylinder, nearly as wide as it was tall. A hose connected the round structure to the cluster it was next to. Romeo zoomed in, taking hundreds of stills in a few seconds, then turned to exit the hangar.
The floating ball zipped out from its enclosure. “Nodanna icatoo?”
“The replacement is complete. I will recycle this battery per Core Worlds safe handling protocol 962341778199425-X. Thank you for your compliance.”
Romeo slipped through the blast doors on his way back to the elevator. The rest of the crew backed up his feed, scanning the still images he'd sent back. In each pod was an unconscious person. Men, woman, and children of many different ages and species were entombed within the sterile looking coffins. Judging by the stacks in the first images, there were well over several hundred people in just this one hangar. Tending to each stack was a floating robot with six tentacle style arms.
“Friend of yours?” Jester asked Fluff.
“That was actually funny,” the panther mech spat back.
Kat came over the radio, “I recognize the symbols on those vats next to the columns. That's the symbol for the Swarm-tech that Chen's been using. I recognize it from the book.”
“Do you think they're going through the process or are just waiting to be deployed?” Savoya asked, an expression of horror on her face.
“If you look here, you can see that the status indicators read that they're ready to go. This batch is deployable,” Kat said from her spot in the co-pilot's chair on the Humming-Bird.
Lasher nudged Madame Tarot. “We need to do something. If the lancers hit this boat, they're going to get stomped.”
Twenty-One
“Work-Captain Phang, please update me on the operation,” Ms. Chen announced.
“Of course, ma'am. Cross load to the Raastrider corporation is almost complete. We've also taken the last shipment of personnel for the undertaking. We should be on our way shortly. So far we have no sign of the mongrel other than his antics on Doseidos.”
“Good. Do you concur with his assessment, honorable Phoenix?”
The leader of the Steel Devils stood beside the Work Captain, staring away from the holo. His eyes searched for something past the ceramaclear viewport looking onto the massive Raastrider reclamation station. “The eternal work is never truly clear until we have the benefit of hindsight,” he replied. “The Second Sight is in a state of flux. I can't see past the veil of the present. Focal points in the Eternal Work must be set, in order for me see clearly. The fact that you mentioned the mongrel would seem to be an insight beyond the veil. Due diligence dictates we search the ship.”
Captain Phang snapped his head around to face the Devil. “Do you know how long it would take to do a manual search of the ship? Even with the service bots all running, it could take hours.”
“Not if we activated the cargo,” the holo suggested.
“Ma'am, even a partial activation would set us back, considerably.” Phang protested.
The hologram seemed to think on the last statement, then announced, “Honorable Phoenix, I am dispatching ten pieces of the cargo to serve at your discretion. Since the force you brought with you was largely consumed by said antics, the ten man crew should make up for the loss you suffered.”
“Most kind. Thank you, Madame Chen. I am relieved to see you recover so quickly from your death.”
“Thank you. We do what we can to stay safe in dangerous times. Work-Captain Phang, I've received a ping from hold-four for an unscheduled bit of maintenance. It checks out, but I would like you to direct a technical team to investigate. The rest of the crew, along with all worker bots, are to remain at stations so as not to be in the way. You will activate batches Four, Six, and Eleven to conduct a level by level search of the rest of ship. Do it now before we reach
the Outer Boundary. I would hate for anyone to leave the party early or catch us unprepared for their arrival.”
Phang appeared chastened but resolute to follow orders, “Right away Ms. Chen.”
Foster adjusted the pistol on his thigh for the sixth time. He hadn't bothered to adjust the buckles for the holster so it would properly fit his leg. The stupid thing just kept slapping around until it would wiggle to the front. He wasn't a gunfighter but he'd seen enough vids to know that all the best shooters drew their weapon from the side, not the front.
“See? Didn't I tell you to adjust that thing before we left Tythian.”
“Yeah. You did.” Foster snapped. “And I appreciate you reminding me that you did.”
“You're welcome. What are friends for?”
Mr. Wen scolded the two men. “Foster, Dennis, that's enough. Keep it quiet or we'll never hear someone trying to sneak by.”
“Didn't they say we were looking for a half Vosi guy and a bot? Those people are like three meters tall. How quiet can they be?”
“Dennis. Knock it off,” Mr. Wen said with a little more force. He was the only one of the lot who had served in the military back in the Core. With such experience, he was the natural choice to be placed in charge of the eight man improvised patrol sent to inspect the technical glitch. He didn't want the position but he had little choice. He wasn't likely to win an argument against Work-Captain Phang. “Just make sure to continue to cover the direction I told you to and trust the men behind us to do the same.”
Foster adjusted his holster again with an angry huff, “I can't believe I was dragged out of my rack for this. I was having that dream where I meet up with that Nurabi waitress, remember the one we see on Kodanna Station? Man, they don't build women like that in the Xang.”
Dennis could see Mr. Wen getting upset. “Let him have his rambling. It's probably keeping him calm.”
“Just make sure he covers his lane.” Wen said.
The small patrol made it to a junction. They pushed two wings of men outward so they could check the four blast doors at the top of the intersection. The discernible writing wrapped in black and yellow striping indicated they were at launch tubes for escape pods. Mr. Wen opened all four of the hatches, checked for signs of tampering, and then sealed them back up again.
“What are you looking for?” Foster asked.
“Watch your sector. I'm looking to see if anyone has rigged them with remote activators, explosives, or detection devices that would signal someone other than the bridge when they're being used.”
“Why?” Foster huffed.
“Because they said top to bottom on this search, knucklehead. That's why.”
“You don't have to get nasty about it.”
Wen keyed his mic. “Control this is Search Team. We are checkpoint two. Moving toward the port quarter on lane six, how copy, over?”
“What'd they say?” Dennis asked.
“They're following our progress,” Wen answered. “Alright kids, fall in behind Foster and roll down the passage to the next checkpoint.”
“Ugh! This boat leaks like crazy. Wasn't Mike supposed to fix these pipes, like a decade ago?” Foster complained.
Dennis gave him a little shove. “You've only been on this freighter for two months and you hardly leave the commo hub. How would you know what leaks and what doesn't?”
They arrived at the first cargo hangar where they were hastily greeted by the angry security sphere from the control plate.
“Trada ni skava. Neh wee Toh?”
“I'm Mr. Wen. Phang sent us down to secure the level. Did any more bots try and push their way past you.”
“Sivoah nakka. Shim himdoah kabba no witty hoo comdonna.”
Mr. Wen put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Alright. Alright. Don't get your processor in a loop. I'm just doing what I'm told. I know these bays are off limits but I need you to run a detailed search of the bay to ensure no one is in there. Phang's orders.”
“Nehoba no voos. Chada no Chen.”
“I understand that, but Phang is acting under orders from Chen. How is this so hard to understand?”
The bot didn't bother to answer. It shot back into the plate, and a hologram appeared in its place. The screen registered the bot's progress, with other bots inside displayed as well, showing the impromptu security team they were conducting a grid search.
“How does that thing lift up stuff to check to see if someone is hiding?”
Dennis rolled his eyes at Foster, “They're psychic. They can move stuff with the power of their computer brains.”
“Really?”
One of the other spacers slapped Foster on the back of the head, shooting tufts of hair over his eyes. The two were about to get into a shoving match until Mr. Wen pushed himself between them. Staring them both down, he pointed to the direction they needed to cover which would get them enough space to take a break from the harassment. They begrudgingly followed his lead. He focused back on the holo over the door. If there was something up to no good here, it would be prudent to have all the information he could get to keep these spacers alive.
The tiny bot slid through the hatch on its anti-grav suspension, bringing itself to eye level. A red scanning laser bobbed up and down through the passage, resting on each of the men assembled.
“Something you want to share with the rest of the class?” Mr. Wen asked.
“Yadda no kibba kalba. Jukana yokimo kadda jin hassa deno?”
“There are eight of us,” Mr. Wen answered more than a little perturbed. He counted his men, silently moving his mouth while setting his eyes on each one. “Lin, Van, sound off!”
There was no response from either of the names he called. The scowl on his face disappeared as quick as he folded out the stock on the compact sub-machine blaster hanging in front of his chest. He brought the weapon to the patrol ready, scanning the end of the passage for signs of foul play.
“What's the word, boss?” Dennis asked.
“Bot says the hold is clear. Then he just happened to ask where the other two members of our patrol went.”
“You serious? Hold one sec, let me try Van's cell-com. He never goes anywhere without it.”
There was a humming noise around the corner, keeping in time with a minuscule, pulsing light. Dennis was about to walk to it, but Mr. Wen took hold of his shoulder. “Don't stick your head around that corner. You don't want it shot or bitten off, do you?”
Dennis' face went from inquisitive to frightened. Mr. Wen had seen it countless times before. The moment that a dangerous situation became real for the participants. When war wasn't just something in a vid or game, it was staring you in the face with blood soaked teeth and the will to take your life.
“Approach the corner and stop,” Mr. Wen instructed. “Hold your pistol in front of you with both hands. Make sure it's aimed at the floor, your finger off the trigger until you need to do otherwise.”
“How will I know when to shoot?” Dennis asked.
“Trust me. You'll know,” Wen said over Dennis' shoulder then rounded the corner in measured steps. Cutting the pie this way allowed him to slowly gauge his battle space without immediately presenting an easy target should an enemy lay in wait for him. He locked his blaster into place in line with his eye, focusing down the passage through the omni-lens combat optic on the top of it. “Passage is clear. Come take this.”
Dennis walked around the outside so as not to get in the way of the business end of Mr. Wen's blaster. He cautiously checked with him for confirmation that it was alright to pick up the cell-com.
“Don't wait for me, you'll know if something's wrong.”
Dennis hesitantly picked up the device, sliding it into his pocket as he came back around the corner. Mr. Wen fell in behind him, walking backwards to the group so he could keep his eyes on the darkened space beyond.
“Control, this is Wen. Would it be possible to override the light controls for section L4-211? I want all of them on.”
“Not sure yet. But just in case, I want to see if anything's coming at me.”
Dennis held the recovered cell-com, moving it back and forth like he was trying to estimate its value. “Doesn't appear to be damaged or anything.”
There was another vibration from the comm, forcing involuntary jumps of surprise from everyone, including the tiny spherical bot. Dennis flicked the display, clicking on a series of numbers for the pass code.
“He gave me his code on the off chance we had to –”
Dennis' face brought back the expression of fear that Mr. Wen had seen earlier. Instead of plain apprehension, his face twisted into abject horror, eliciting a yelp that backed him into the bulkhead. The cell-com dropped from his grip, bouncing along the rubberized carbodex flooring until it came to rest by his feet. It spat a hologram of the image into the air between the five remaining people standing in a semicircle around Dennis.
The image showed the group of them, including the bot, watching the two men recover the cell-com. Flying through the air in mid leap was a nightmare of duradium and resicarbon. Even though the majority of the search team hadn't fought in the conflicts that continued to plague the CORAL, it wasn't hard to understand that the thing in the freeze frame was meant to kill on a mass scale. Resembling a panther sculpted from metal and malice, its claws and jaws were spread to kill Kenny, who had been at the back of the stack.
The team spun around, clumsily bringing their weapons to the ready, despite other members standing in front of their line of fire. Mr. Wen was quick to adjust people's positions, hopeful that no mech-angel of death descended on them before they got too excited and shot one another.
“Cover your lanes of fire. Don't look around. Focus on your lane, and your lane only.”
“So hadda yakka,” the little sphere announced on its way back through the control plate on the door.
“Are you kidding me?” Foster screamed. “What did it say before it just left us?”
The Revenant: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 2) Page 27
