by Vance Huxley
“Siflis didn’t hear that so I’ll nip and tell him. Wait for me.” Bobby headed up the passage to a puzzled Siflis, and touched helmets to explain. “We’ll just step inside that storeroom while you do the same with this bulge and see if the corridor opens up.” Bobby chuckled. “Lucky you, being the scout.”
“Bledrin comedian. How many fingers and where do I put them?”
“Hood said like this, but I don’t want to transmit the vid.” Bobby showed him. “We’ll experiment a bit once you’ve got us through and that big door is shut behind us.” Bobby looked at the chunk of ice tucked behind his belt. It had started to drip though the droplets turned to vapour and disappeared short of the floor. “Then Magpie can unpack her underwear so we can fill the plastic bags before the water melts. Use the tapper to tell me, squad extra code.” The squad changed that at random and never told anyone else, even the Bigger Basteds. Bobby ran back, this touching helmets would be a real pain. “Open up, Hood.”
As Hood stepped through the door, blue strips in the ceiling glowed, lighting up a room about six metres wide by ten deep. The racks of strange objects definitely looked like spares rather than complete somethings, and some of the clips, bolts, holes and flanges looked almost familiar. Mickey’s helmet clicked as it connected. “That’s handy, the lights.”
“Makes sense.” Bobby followed Hood in and beckoned to the rest. “Hood, shut the door, then we’ll unpack anything that will hold the ice.” Hood turned and slid the bulge on the inside and the door closed. Bobby used his tapper and squad code. “Siflis?”
“Some crackle, but yes. Try now?”
“Do it.”
A helmet touched Bobby’s. “This might help with the ice.” Bells waved a large metal dish shape. “Sort of like a bowl. An alien dog bowl.” He held it to his chest. “Or maybe Magpie is totally outclassed.” He moved off and passed that on to Hood, grinning happily behind his faceplate.
“Or an alien hubcap. Put two together and tape them or the water will dissipate into the vacuum. Near vacuum.” Puzzlement sounded clear in Mickey’s voice. “This place is colder and the oxygen traces have almost gone.” Once again it took a while for the comment and reply to work round the group, until they stood in a tight group with helmets touching at least two others.
“Definitely colder. My ice dripped into here and then froze again.” Magpie didn’t quite laugh but Bobby could hear the humour. “Hard luck Bells, no knicker bag.”
The humour stopped as the tapper started. “It’s open. The corridor curves more. No lights.”
Bobby translated for Mickey and then replied. “Step through. See if lights work.”
“No way Beebi. Might close?”
“Oke. Sealing up water. Will bring bowls.” Mickey wanted to talk privately when Siflis said no, but Bobby wouldn’t break contact with the rest. Bobby could see the scout’s point; he wouldn’t fancy being stuck on his own.
Mickey sighed and spoke where the rest could hear. “What if it seals us all in with no lights?”
“Then we’re together and we’ve got suit lights. No big deal, and better than being slowly whittled down.” Siflis rarely argued a direct order so the dark corridor must have really spooked him. Bobby wouldn’t force Siflis through just to prove who was in charge. Bells gave in to his nerves, filling a bowl with bolts to chuck at an enemy. He also picked up a length rod, swishing it experimentally with a big grin. The rest shook their heads and smiled at him, they’d get to their real weapons in a couple of minutes.
The six of them stepped across the deep groove in the corridor floor in a tight group, the lights came on, and Siflis closed the sliding door again. The whole group sagged as they relaxed just a bit.
* * *
Helmets touched together again so they could hear Bobby. “Time to get out the carbins, shotguns and extra blades. Help each other to get them out because we can’t spend the time taking packs off here.” The packs were married to the life support backpack, and difficult to fix back into position without fouling the connections.
“Come to Daddy.” Bells ditched the iron bar and the bolts, waving his Kraut. That had been allowed as well as his carbin because the plastic ammunition wouldn’t damage property. The rest loaded their carbins and shotguns. The carbins and Kraut had been modified to use compressed air. Both Mickey and Bobby carried carbins as well as shotguns in case the shotgun shells didn’t work.
“Siflis, move ahead just out of sight. The rest of us will open every door this side from now on but don’t go through any. Leave those big ones on the other wall for later. Use the tappers but as little as possible. The curve is tighter, so we’re near this end of the spacecraft.” Bobby gestured towards the corridor ahead. “Now we’ll find a room for a base, and hopefully some water at least. We’ve got forty-two hours of food and water, and sixty-six hours of air left. Maybe.”
“I should report. If we can find a way out for that, maybe we can get more food and water from the capsule.” Mickey paused. “You could do with some air to make up for what you lost?”
“I can hope. Until then, let’s go. We’ll find a room to rest, something defensible.” Bobby looked at the door sealing the corridor. “I wish we could lock that, or fix an alarm.”
When that reached Hood he moved to speak directly to Bobby. “I can fix an alarm with rope, sealant and some ironmongery. Shite, no bledrin air so we’ll not hear.” Hood scowled at the door.
Magpie stayed in touch with Hood, of course. “We’ve all got thirty metres of line in our packs. We can run that from here instead of the ironmongery, since we don’t need it to rope together or climb up or down? If the rope tugs, the door has opened. Start with mine.” Magpie turned so Hood could get at her backpack.
“Can you do that, Hood?” A raised thumb as Hood started on Magpie’s pack answered Bobby, and he pointed at an outside wall hatch. “We should also watch out for another airlock hatch, so Mickey can report. We’d better keep mothership happy or the basted might blow the capsule.” The succession of glowers and glares showed everyone agreed. Command probably would put in a self-destruct in case anyone tried to get food without permission.
The first four rooms held spares or mystery machinery that appeared to be dead. The machinery rooms were warmer, though still below freezing. “Beebi.” Mickey had touched helmets again. “When we came through the corridor door, most of the oxygen trace disappeared and the temperature dropped to minus seventy. Now it’s rising again, and so is the air concentration. Do you think it’s deliberate?” Mickey sounded a bit tentative, and definitely nervous.
For once Bobby had no qualms about keeping the rest out of the exchange. “You mean the ship? How would it know?” As he finished speaking Bobby knew the answer. “It analysed the bodies and wreckage. Is this good or bad?” Good if it provided air, part of Bobby insisted. The rest of him worried about why an alien spaceship would take so much trouble, except to get live specimens.
“Good for us in the short term. We should find a place to stop and let the air build up.” Mickey sounded really worried now. “Do you think there’s anything still alive?”
“Aliens? No. The briefings were very clear. That wreckage, whatever, transmitted a shot of the starfield when it arrived and now, side by side.” Bobby knew he sounded worried now. “Though this doesn’t look as if it survived a million years.”
Bobby didn’t expect the sharp retort. “The dating wasn’t exact!” Mickey looked around. “Sorry, it worries me as well. Either the starfield picture lied, or the calculations were wrong, because a thing this size can’t have stayed out here fully functional for that long. The power would fail.”
“Doorbell rigged, Beebi. We’ve tied our ropes together, but we’ll need another soon.” Hood’s report came as a welcome interruption.
“Good work. Let’s catch up a bit.” Bobby tapped. “Siflis?” The scout had moved out of sight a few minutes earlier and stopped reporting on the rooms opened. Four taps replied on Bobby’s tapper, the scout
’s call-sign so Siflis had gone silent on purpose. Bobby used hand signals and they all crept forward, tight against the inside of the curve. Siflis had left a knife in the passage, pointing back the way they’d come. Bobby put a hand on Mickey’s arm and when the Super turned he motioned for silence and to stop. The rest recognised one of their squad’s unofficial signals. Stay here.
The tapper started giving Bobby a message, just Bobby and the squad because Mickey didn’t understand. “Side passage. This passage ends 10 mtrs past. BB forward.”
A quick helmet contact to tell Mickey, and Bobby moved forward. Siflis crouched low and tight against the wall waving Bobby to do the same, then showed a taped patch on his suit. He tapped code onto Bobby’s helmet. “Lasers. Only one active.” The scout held up a dagger tied to his finger wire and slid it across the floor. The pale flicker of a laser beam nailed it halfway across, then repeated the hit with more power as the knife slid further. After the second hit the blade glowed.
Bobby tapped on Siflis’s helmet. “Where is laser?” Siflis pointed up and towards a point out of sight well down the passage. Bobby tapped again. “Jerk dagger in a moment so I can look.” Siflis handed over his mirror on a stick, let Bobby move forward, and gave the wire a tug. The laser spat so Bobby peeked and pulled the mirror straight back. Four weapons on wall mounts covered the corridor but only one reacted. Bobby looked at the dagger. This time the blade still glowed dull red and had a distinct mark in the middle. He moved back to tap on Siflis’s helmet. “Ask rest if any solid rounds.”
Bobby couldn’t because a sergeant’s coms were rigged to make sure the Super heard every message. Bobby didn’t want Mickey involved or he’d start bleating about damaging property. With luck Hood had another solid round or Bells had managed to smuggle a clip of solids. Bobby only had two solid rounds in his index fingers, for emergencies when breaking in. While Siflis tapped and waited, Bobby rotated his forefinger to activate the weapon, and brought the metal little finger across to clip into the revealed slot. A one shot pistol on each hand. Forty feet wasn’t all that far, except if he missed the bledrin laser would kill him. Siflis tapped “No.”
“Keep tugging a bit at a time to keep the laser occupied.” Tapping that on a helmet took a while, but Bobby needed it to screw up his nerve because of the other three weapons. Siflis nodded. At the first tug molten metal spat from the dagger as Bobby moved out a bit and froze. A chill ran up his spine because two other weapons tracked him, but they didn’t fire. The operating laser spat again and Bobby came out far enough to clear his finger pistol. Now three weapons on wall mounts tracked him but still none fired. Siflis must have tugged again because one weapon, the same one, spat a pale beam and Bobby brought his finger on target. Almost, but he daren’t move the extra fraction.
“Next might be last.” That came on his tapper and Bobby almost jumped. Crap, if he missed, he was so pooched. The laser spat, Bobby corrected and fired, then scrambled back out of sight. “Get it?”
At least Siflis tapped that on his helmet again. Bobby turned and reached back. “Maybe.” He stopped there because Siflis had been right. The dagger had been mostly splashed across the floor, which had scorched around the molten metal, and the end of the wire had been cut. Wordlessly Bobby held out a small knife as Siflis rewound the wire. The new bait bounced across the corridor and the laser glittered but it missed! Though it hit the pale blue floor which bubbled and smoked briefly. Bobby gestured, again, and Siflis tugged to move the knife. Again the laser missed the knife but hit the floor, in the same place again, and metal showed beneath the covering!
“It’s jammed.” Bobby waved his carbin out past the curve, where the laser would see it, and nothing happened. Siflis jerked the wire and the laser gouged the floor metal at least a metre clear of the target, in the same place as before.
“What’s jammed? What happened?” Mickey’s voice broke in, and Bobby realised he’d spoken on coms.
“Ask Hood.” Bobby tapped. “Laser on auto. Maybe jammed now. Got a cross corridor. Come up slow. Stick to inside of curve. Check doors on the way.” Bobby sat back against the wall and sucked a slow drink from the tube while his nerves settled. He ran through it all again, and realised the air must be a lot thicker if the laser showed. Outside in space the beams were only visible where they went through annihilated space debris or the clouds of ice crystals, and when they hit the targets of course. “Ask Mickey, how thick is the air?”
“Wait three he’s coming.”
Mickey arrived and touched helmets. “Fifteen percent and rising, and it is air in the right proportions.” The Super chuckled. “But without any pollutants.” He paused. “Hang on, there’s a hint of something nasty now.”
“Burnt flooring. It’s stopped now.”
“Property damage?” Mickey sighed. “Sorry, automatic reaction.”
“The ship did it and I’d like to see some legal Manager try to sue this bledrin thing. Better yet I’d like to see him try and collect the fine.” Mickey’s laughter seemed to agree. The squad caught up, reporting that two rooms contained dead machinery, and one was full of locked storage bins. Judging by the lights and handle, Mickey thought one of the doors they passed on the opposite wall looked like an airlock. After Bobby explained what had happened, Mickey no longer seemed worried about shooting up equipment. They all had a drink and a break and took it in turns to use Siflis’s mirror to look at the lasers around the bend.
* * *
As Bobby sat resting, Mickey came across and touched helmets. “There’s a lot of chatter from different squads, French, Anglic and something else. Probably the Shivas. We should keep trying to talk without coms most of the time.”
“Oke. I’ll tell the others.” Bobby touched helmets and passed the message. Hood and Magpie moved so they could put their arms around each other and talk privately. By the time the squad were ready to move, the light above the active laser had gone out.
Siflis reported that by touching helmets after another peek around the bend with his mirror. “Either you shot something vital out, or the ship doesn’t like property damage. The laser did crank up the power a bit at a time until it destroyed the dagger, and then the floor.” Siflis sighed. “I don’t fancy going past the other three.”
“We won’t. We’ll turn left up the passage. If someone gets through the door back there we’ll be ready when they try to follow, and with luck those lasers will join in.” Bobby leaned out and waved his carbin slowly up and down, then touched helmets again. “See, they won’t fire. Don’t point weapons at them or the programming might decide we’re a threat.” He stood up and the rest did. “Let’s go. I’ll go first because to be brutal, I’ve got less air so I’m more expendable. Pass the word helmet to helmet.” The arms waved in protest were gratifying but everyone understood the truth.
Mickey had the last word. “You might be expendable now, but if the air keeps building up, that might alter.”
“If the air is breathable, I agree.” Bobby put out an arm, waved it, and felt relieved to get it back without a laser hole in his hand. He walked round the corner very slowly, with his carbin and shotgun slung and his hands wide open and out to the sides. As he came closer a band of bright yellow glowed across the floor at his end of the short corridor leading to the doors and lasers. He took another step and light went up both walls to meet on the ceiling. Bobby stopped a moment to tap so the others would know, in case the bledrin thing meant don’t come closer and shot him. “I’m being warned. Yellow lights.” The three remaining weapons tracked him, but the fourth remained dead and silent.
Bobby heaved a sigh of relief once he turned the corner and moved far enough so the weapons couldn’t see him. Mickey heard the sigh and understood why. “What’s there?”
Bobby only needed one glance up the corridor before tapping back. “Long corridor. More junctions and rooms. Come one at a time.”
Bells passed a tapper message. “Mickey will try the airlock first. I can stay as guard.” Mickey had
a good point. Bobby certainly didn’t want to go back past the corner more times than necessary.
Bobby opened two doors while he waited. The first room contained stacked rows of locked bins while the second held padded shelves, possibly beds or seats. Bobby waved Hood inside the first room and touched helmets. “Wait in here and watch the corner. Siflis can watch my back. When Magpie gets here she’s to open doors.” He carried on down the corridor to the next junction. A narrower corridor ran back down the ship about thirty metres, ending in double doors. So did the next one and Bobby relaxed a bit. They wouldn’t be suddenly surrounded.
“Beebi?” Bobby turned back to the rooms between the corridors, which he’d left for Magpie. He looked inside as Magpie’s helmet touched. “I’ve got a canteen, or bogs, or something with what might be water?”
“This area will do for now. One guard can hold the rope back where Siflis is, with the rest of us in where Hood is to use those seats or beds. I’ll ask Mickey to stick his probe in some of that.” The clear liquid in a dished receptacle had probably come out of the thin pipe above. Jabbing and twisting at any possible controls produced a stream of the liquid on demand. Bobby jabbed and poked and twisted some more, until the liquid disappeared through the bottom or sides of the sink or bowl, somehow. “Maybe a bog as well.” Bobby activated the flow again and the bowl held it. He looked at the row of seven. “That’ll do for now.”
He went out to meet Mickey and Bells, and asked Mickey to check the water. “Here Beebi.” Bobby joined Siflis but looked around before going into the room because the corridor opened out into a large circular space over twenty metres across. Five metres up a balcony went all the way round, with another a further five metres up, both with doors leading into the walls behind. A domed ceiling rose from five metres above the last balcony, a ceiling with a starfield painted across it. Bobby didn’t fancy climbing the only way up, poles with a series of short bars jutting out as they spiralled upwards, alien ladders.
