The Belt Loop _Book One

by Robert B. Jones

  The big blister screen came to sputtering life. It was full of distant stars and the cloudy wisps of interstellar gasses.

  “Give me maximum magnification, Mister Washoe.”

  “Aye, sir,” Cain Washoe said without looking behind him.

  The image on the blister stepped through four or five resolution jumps and finally the image settled.

  “Not one of ours, sir,” Corman said in a rising voice.

  “Sound battle stations, Number One,” Uri Haad said.

  “Battle stations, aye,” Yorn said.

  Suddenly the bridge was suffused in amber light and the jarring whoops of the klaxons. On the big screen forward, another alien worm was bearing down on the Christi at flank speed. “She’s powering up some kind of energy field, sir,” Washoe said.

  Haad did not hesitate. “Mister Gant, bring us about, heading three one eight, make the bow angle up ten.”

  “Aye, helm three one eight, up ten degrees.”

  “Get me the weapons bay, Mister Hoge, tell me what we’ve got left down there.” Haad wanted to put the undamaged starboard side of the Christi to bear on the intruder. Since her intentions were unknown and by now she had probably discovered the ruined derelict, he wanted to make ready for battle should it come to that. He couldn’t make enough speed for the fold so he had to improvise and protect. “Lower blast shields on starboard decks two through fourteen and make fast those drones. Once they’re back inside the field, squeeze her down Mister Washoe.”

  “Aye, sir, recalling our drones.”

  “Weapons bay reporting batteries one, three, seven and nine armed and ready, captain. Full run up on number five in three mikes. All torpedoes armed and ready in tubes three through seventeen.”

  “Well, if it’s a fight they want, at least we can give them one,” Haad said.

  “Captain, captain, sir! We’re being hailed! I’ve got a single-sideband carrier on one five seven point four,” Sid Corman said excitedly. For Ensign Corman this high adventure was the kind of thing he had joined the Navy for right out of college. “See the stars and hit the bars” was the recruiting mantra of the chief petty officer that had signed him up. Well, at least part of that old aphorism was coming true; he hadn’t had a real drink in over two years.

  “Comm, pipe it through,” Davi Yorn said.

  The comm operator squelched the battle station alarms on the bridge and slapped at his panel. The noise from the alarms below decks made for a pulsating rhythm as the alien transmission fought for detection in a background sea of static and microwave noise. Then white noise as the carrier wave firmed up. Corman adjusted his ocillators and fine-tuned the signal. The bridge was filled with high-pitched chittering and clicking.

  “Point source 3,000 klicks off our aft quarter, sir,” Corman said.

  “That’s all we have, Mister Corman? How’re we supposed to respond to that?”

  “With your permission, sir,” Lieutenant Mols said, “I have an idea. I think I can at least talk to them. Assuming they’re using the same language as the other worm, the dead ship. My database on my portable?”

  Haad turned to look at her. Maybe she could open a dialogue and avoid putting the ship through a pitched battle that would surely cost more lives. Had the Dyson Drive been operable he would not have even considered it. He could have made fold speeds long before the new worm arrival could have posed any serious threat. Now his options were reduced to talking or fighting with his crippled ship.

  “Make it so, lieutenant. This time, try to leave my electronics in operable condition, is that understood?”

  Mols smiled and tapped Max on the arm. “Understood, sir. This should only take a minute, I’m going from human to human machinery this time,” she said.

  The captain grunted and turned around.

  The alien twittering continued.

  * * *

  Har was startled when the alarms started sounding. He was sure he was close to the bridge but he couldn’t be entirely sure. This was all new territory for him and he was cautious in his moves.

  At one point he came to a big hole in one of the ducts. Slightly elliptical in shape and rough around the edges of the opening. Metal fatigue? Something crashing into the overhead? Not likely. That hole was man-sized and when he looked beyond the hole, he saw a slimy trail of dried mucus snaking off into the darkness. A worm!

  One of the aliens was in the duct. He recalled hearing strange flesh-on-metal sounds a couple of hours ago. Could he really be nearing a face-to-face confrontation with the intruders?

  His little heart triphammered in his chest. For the thousandth time he produced the gun from his waistband and felt its hefty weight in his nervous hand.

  Worm or no worm, he was not deterred. He continued to push himself forward.

  Chapter 36

  Back in the recreation-compartment-cum-triage-bay Doctor Isaacs marveled at his accomplishments. He had successfully turned the little floor cleaner into an ammonia humidifier. All five of the birds were out of their sleep capsules and seemed to be thriving. One of the birds, he thought it to be the first one revived, came to the edge of the field and mouthed a series of chittering twitters. Isaacs assumed that he had just been thanked.

  He walked over to the comm stack and killed the alarm signal then tried to contact the bridge. Instead of the captain he got Commander Yorn. Judging by the background noises he heard, the bridge was in action mode and no one had too much time to chat. He told Yorn about the progress with the birds and signed off.

  Now all he had to do was find them something to eat. Isaacs called the marine sentry over from the door and gave him some simple instructions. The sentry dashed out and closed the hatch behind him.

  Isaacs walked back to the containment field and smiled.

  * * *

  Gaining topside, Lieutenant Val Young approached the bridge and badged her way past the sentry. Two of her men followed her onto the bridge and had to side-step and skip to avoid getting run over by the rankings and ratings scurrying to and fro. They acted as if an armed detail was a regular visitor to the brain of the ship.

  Young used a hand signal to position her men and walked down into the control pit and reported to the captain.

  “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but you need to know that we have tracked the renegade worms to the top deck.”

  He looked away from the blister and squared up his gaze on the officer. “We know, lieutenant. Got one of the bad guys just awhile ago. How many worms are headed this way? You know how many are left?”

  She looked down at her reader and punched in a code or two. “If you got one up here, that makes four down and two to go, sir. You need to be —”

  Haad narrowed his gaze. He was not used to being told what he needed to do. “Resume your duties, lieutenant. I’m sure we’ve got adequate protection up here already.”

  “Aye, sir. Shall I leave my two escorts up here for you?”

  “Not necessary. The bridge is armed and ready, Mister Young. I don’t want to complicate lines of fire by having more weapons on my bridge. You may carry on,” he said sharply, signifying that the conversation was over.

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Young put two fingers to the front of her headset, twirled him a salute and turned smartly on her heels. She collected her troops and exited the bridge from the portside hatch.

  As soon as the hatch cycled, the worm chose that moment to erupt from behind the science alcove.

  * * *

  Hearing all the human voices led Har Hansen to believe he was getting close. He had been crawling for quite a while and had detected no more upward shafts. To him that meant he was at the top of the ship, at the bridge level. The increasing sounds of radio traffic and loud shouting coming from around the next bend further reassured him that his goal was near.

  All he had to do was be ready. He stopped and got out his last bottle of water. He had no idea how long his trek had taken him but he figured it must have been at least two whole days. Maybe even longer.
He was starting to feel sorry for himself again, inspecting his dirty and tattered clothes. His oversized boots were also in poor condition and he took a few minutes to see if he could shine them up a bit by rubbing the toes on his trouser legs. All that did was smear more grime and liquid across the toes of his footwear and leave dark stains on his pants.

  Wait. Where had all of that goop come from? He looked below him. The bottom of the duct was covered in slimy mucus reminiscent of the gunk that he had coughed up the last time he had a cold. He put the palm of his hand out and felt the sides of the duct next. It, too, was covered in the slimy liquid.

  He quickly wiped his hand on his shirt. His alien-hunting mind was beginning to put two and two together. He pulled out the gun with his dry hand and extended his right arm. Slowly he crept forward, his backpack all but forgotten. A thin shaft of light came from around the next bend. Suddenly the light was obscured by a moving shadow!

  Moving at one centimeter per minute, Har continued his slow push, being careful not to make any scraping noises or squeaking contacts with the sides of the duct.

  Finally after what seemed like another week of crawling, he pulled back the gun and slowly pushed his head around the bend.

  And came face to face with an angry alien worm.

  Chapter 37

  Cain Washoe dove to his left and grabbed the upright partition ringing his console. All heads on the bridge turned to him and the marine guard leapt into action. Since it had already been proven that a six-amp burst from a UAW would effectively bring the creatures down, he took careful aim and fired.

  Max side-stepped the action in the alcove next to her comm bay and instantly went into a modified combat stance, her weapon drawn. Mols looked up once and continued her hook-up activities. To her, these worms were just a simple nuisance. Her crowning achievement on this mission was to be gained by making contact with that alien warship. While it may not have occurred to the masters of the Christi since this adventure began, they had no way of judging what new dangers that recently unfolded worm presented. After all, the derelict was estimated to be at least two thousand years old. The technology it possessed was the same. Ancient. Maybe the ship was launched back in a time where the worms were struggling with their technology and had not developed a reliable star drive system. This new interloper could present a much greater threat. Look at how far humans had progressed in the last two thousand years. From swords and horseback to zanith lasers and interstellar starships. While the battle with the angry worm raged around her, she continued with her priority tasks.

  Max finally stepped around the young lieutenant and fired a burst almost point-blank into the creature’s torso. It fell back in a smoldering heap and after a short interval the last of its legs stopped twitching. She walked up to it and prodded it gently with the tip of her boot. It seemed dead enough but she kept her weapon trained on it just in case it decided to make one last sudden move. The marine sentry knelt and took something from one of its upper arms. It was a food wrapper. A breakfast bar wrapper. Hey, Max thought, that’s the same kind of morning stuff Har was partial to. Harold! Oh no, she shrieked inside. Had he been in the air ducts? Had he gone on one of his little exploring missions while all of this had been going on? She tensed and looked at the hole behind the science console. Her thoughts quickly turned dark and it was hard for her to hide her growing anxiety.

  “Hey, good shooting, sir,” the sentry said. He was back on his feet and holstering his UAW. “Don’t know what this is, but it looks like that thing stopped for a snack somewhere,” he said.

  His quip caused the captain’s head to turn in her direction. He looked at Max but said nothing. Did he know?

  “Get this carcass down to the gymnasium, corporal. See the doc when you get there,” Davi Yorn said. He then snapped his fingers and two ratings near the starboard hatch rushed over to aid the marine in alien removal duties.

  “Are you okay, Lieutenant Hansen?” Yorn wanted to know.

  “Fine. It just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

  Yorn shrugged. “You handle yourself pretty good in a fight, lieutenant. When this thing settles down, let’s talk about getting you front-line status. We could always use more help from certified combat-ready officers.”

  Holy shit! Max almost blacked out. Did she hear him right? “That would be great, sir. I’m eager to do what’s in the best interests of the Navy,” she said lamely. Accepting recognition for her work was not something Max was really used to. An offer to upgrade to an unrestricted line officer, putting her in line to eventually command a combat team, would be a huge bump in her personnel file. That would also mean a return to Elber for advanced training in tactics and strategy. She could be with Har.

  “Have you decided on your bereavement leave?”

  She took a deep breath. “No, sir. With everything else that’s pulling at me right now, I haven’t really had the time to give it much thought. Besides, sir, what good would it do me?”

  “We’re up and running, captain,” Mols yelled from the comm bay.

  Yorn looked at the cryptographer for a second or two then turned his gaze back on Max. “Well, like I said, as soon as we get some down time, we’ll talk.”

  “Aye, commander,” she said. After he stepped off she went to the science alcove and offered to assist Cain Washoe with the clean up of his area. Worm entrails were splashed over his equipment and he looked lost and confused. Max was fortunate enough to have spent time on the derelict and had become somewhat inured to the sudden dangers of her duties. She noticed that Commander Gertz had departed the bridge with the worm carcass detail.

  “Keep your distance,” Captain Haad told the helmsman. “Let’s assume she’ll slow to take a look at what’s left of that derelict. Mind that she doesn’t run up our tailpipe, Mister Gant.”

  “Sir, alien message starting to unravel. Putting the text on your comm stack, sir.” Mols danced her fingers across the keys of her portable and looked behind her at the captain.

  Yorn advanced to the command chair and stood with his arms folded across his chest and watched as the text streamed across the captain’s screen.

  Haad leaned back and read.

  “Some of it is gibberish, captain, there’s still a lot of holes in our Wormish vocabulary, and some of their expressions have no meaningful Elber counterparts. . .” Mols said, looking back and forth from the screen on her portable to the back of the captain’s head.

  Haad waved a dismissive hand and leaned forward. Yorn shifted his weight and bent slightly at the waist.

  What they saw on the screen surprised and dismayed them at the same time.

  . . . for to do this. Attention attention attention. If you are gathering this message. Attention. I am vessel (garbled) from one to one. It is your best ?interest? to remove power from your ?engine? and make ready for (garbled) to visit your vessel. You have rendered the (garbled) not in keeping to the assigned ?route = lane? that is accorded to you. ?personal noun = We? have determined that you have ?property? on vessel that belongs to the ?place name? in violation of the area ?law = jurisdiction? that requires inspection. It is (garbled) an absolute. To that design we demand you for to do this. Attention attention attention. If you are. . .

  “What do you make of that, Davi?”

  Yorn pursed his lips and sighed. “Looks like they want to board us, captain. Seems they want their birds back.”

  “Mister Mols, is that thing duplex? Can I send them a message?

  “Oh, indeed you can, sir. I have speech to text capabilities and the interface through my portable will wash your text through the alien word list before transmitting. I would advise, with all due respect and all of that, that you keep the language, ahh, shall I say, simple. Remember, captain, my machine is still learning and applying Elber syntax to alien words. The simpler the better. Maybe fourth level grade school simple.”

  Max had to laugh. Niki Mols had a way about her, even when dealing with the bridge overlords, that was direct and
humorous.

  Haad grunted. “Well, alright, fourth level should suit me just fine,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Maybe throw in a few fairy tales while I’m at it.”

  “Ahh, sir, I didn’t mean that as disrespect. What I’m trying to get at —”

  “Lieutenant Mols, I think he gets it,” Yorn said. “How do we do this, Mister Mols?”

  She screwed up her face and shook her shoulders. She wasn’t sure she got the gist of what had just transpired but it was slowly dawning on her that the captain was having a little fun at her expense. “Well, the captain just talks and the machine does the rest.”

  “Comm, hit the transmit key. You ready back there, Mister Mols?”

  “Aye, captain. Fire when ready,” she said, regretting the words as soon as they left her lips. Only the captain or his XO could say those words. Uncle Vinny had told her so.

  “Yeah, well,” Haad said and raised an eyebrow at Yorn. “Start your interface, lieutenant.”

  “Done. Press your hailing control, sir. You’re all set.”

  Uri Haad cleared his throat and began.

  “This is Captain Uri Haad of the Colonial Navy Ship Corpus Christi out of Elber Prime. Go fuck yourself.”

  Chapter 38

  With steam literally coming out of her ears Lieutenant Val Young considered her problem. She was more than a little miffed at the rather cool reception she’d received up on the bridge. Commander Yorn had asked for her to report to the bridge and have a look at the cable troughs. Okay, the captain was busy, the bridge had enough armed officers on deck already. Still, her cheeks were red and she thought the captain had given her the short shrift. Then come to find out that seconds later one of those things had burst through the aft bridge bulkhead. She had missed a chance to display her finely-honed worm-killing skills in front of the line officers.