“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Wool, we have to go.”
She kept facing the window with her arms folded and refused to move, “I c-can’t go.”
“Why not?”
He moved next to her and clocked her reflection in the plastic pane. Something about her face wasn’t right.
“I can never go home ever again, Tripp.”
He applied pressure to her shoulder and tried to comfort her, “Don’t be stupid, just—”
A cold sensation on his fingertips made him look down. A Shanta talon crept across his knuckles, stretching from Wool’s fleshy arm.
“Oh, no.”
A tear rolled down Wool’s cheek, “When you leave, close the door and seal me inside. Have Jaycee break the wall panel so I can’t get out.”
“Wool,” Tripp muttered.
“It’s okay,” she half-laughed and sniffed through her tears, “It was bound to happen sooner or later. We’re mostly human organs, after all. I guess the Symphonium just takes a little longer to work with our synthetic insides.”
She turned to him at once. His face fell when he clapped his eyes on hers. She seemed desperate and beyond hope.
“Oh, Wool,” Tripp’s lip quivered. He looked at her pink, bloodied arm. The skin cracked apart above the elbow. The three cat scratch marks pulsed and revealed a fleshy, white layer.
“Do you have your Rez-9?” she asked.
He offered her his weapon with caution, “Yes, of course. Here.”
“No, Tripp. I can’t do it.”
He pointed at his jaw, “Remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” she turned to the window and widened her eyes at the glorious ball of fire, “Say goodbye to the crew for me. Tell them if it was going to be anyone, then I’m glad it was them.”
A pink tear rolled down Tripp’s cheek as he hooked his index finger around the trigger. He placed the end of it at the back of her head.
Tripp’s voice croaked, “Do you want me to tell Jelly—”
“—No. Don’t tell her anything,” she reached behind her head and gripped the barrel of the gun in her right hand, “In my battery, please.”
Her hand dragged the nozzle down across her back and pushed it between her shoulder blades.
“I could just open you and take it out.”
“Destroy it. Make sure I’m dead. Shoot it,” Wool burst out crying, “Tell Jelly her mommy is sorry.”
Tripp sobbed like a helpless child and made sure his reflection didn’t give his emotions away.
Wool took a lungful of air and widened her eyes. The light from Saturn filled her pupils, “Whatever is out there, we found it—”
BLAMMM!
Her chest opened out and splattered her insides against the window. Globs of thick, pink goo slid down the plastic, against the view of Saturn and the infernal Enceladus.
Wool crumpled to the floor, dead. Her smashed battery hung out through her ribcage and hit the floor.
Tripp lowered his gun and wiped his face.
“Sleep well, Wool.”
Tripp exited Medix and closed the door.
Jaycee, Alex, and Nutrene turned around, expecting to find two crew members.
Tripp lowered his Rez-9 and marched through them, “Wool won’t be joining us.”
“What? Why not?” Jaycee asked and chased up to Tripp, “Hey, you can’t walk off like that.”
THUD.
He planted his giant hand on Tripp’s shoulder and prevented him from walking, “Answer me.”
Tripp grabbed Jaycee by the collar and shunted his back to the wall. A miasma of self-doubt and fury flew through his eyes, “Don’t you ever, ever touch me like that again.”
Jaycee grabbed Tripp’s hand and pushed it away from his neck, “You’re out of your mind.”
“I know I am. We all are.”
“Where’s Wool?”
Tripp snorted and continued up the walkway, “She’s not coming.”
“Why?”
“She’s dead.”
“Dead?”
Alex and Nutrene decided it best to let the two men carry on their conversation a few feet ahead of them.
“Who’s Wool?”
“Ah,” Nutrene whispered, “My predecessor. Actually my second predecessor, after Katcheena. She was chief medician for USARIC. She oversaw the Star Cat Project back in one-eighteen.”
Alex squinted at her, “That Wool? Wool ar-Ban? The Iranian?”
“Yeah, you know her?”
“Oh. Uh, no. Just heard about her,” Alex cleared his throat and grew nervous, “Dead?”
“You heard the man,” she smirked, “Still, her being dead is good practice for all of them soon enough, eh?”
Jaycee pummeled the wall with his fists in anger, “Bastards.”
Tripp held out his arms, “Hey, hey, calm down. There’s nothing any of us could have done—”
“—You didn’t have to execute her, you know,” Jaycee spun his wrists around, ready to break something. A protruding pipe knocked against his knee, “God damn it.”
He grabbed the pipe in his hands and wrenched it from the wall in a fit of rage. A blast of steam sprayed into the walkway as he swung it above his head and hurled it up the corridor, “I swear to God I’m gonna shoot someone.”
“Jaycee, no. No more deaths, please,” Tripp screamed at him, “Who are you gonna shoot?”
“Someone.”
“Let me ask you this, tough guy,” he prodded Jaycee’s exo-suit chest plate with his finger, “What if what you want to shoot is inside you? How are you gonna kill it?”
Jaycee slowed his breathing and pushed his captain’s finger away, “I guess we’ll find out soon enough. If it turned Tor and Wool, who’s to say you and I aren’t next?”
Chapter 15
Primary Airlock
Space Opera Beta
The inner airlock hatch slid up. Oxade clutched his D-REZ semi-automatic and entered Opera Beta proper.
He pressed his finger to the ear compartment on his gelatin helmet-mask, “Please tell me this piece of crap spacecraft has its control deck on level one.”
“It does,” Poz’s voice came through Oxade’s mask, “I advise you take the stairs. We can’t trust the elevator on this malfunctioning hunk of junk.”
“Pah. Morons can’t even get that right,” he took a look around the meager inner workings of the ship and chuckled to himself, “You’re right, though. Opera Beta really is a hunk of junk, isn’t it?”
“Soon to be was, I’ll think you’ll find.”
“Very true. I’ll see you in sixty seconds.”
Keen to express his disrespect for the ship, Oxade coughed up a wad of phlegm and spat it on the wall.
Neg danced around the nuclear canister’s beeps, “Beta gonna blow, Beta gonna blow.”
“Will you knock it off, Neg?” Poz eyed the last of the data transfer through his arm, “Any second now.”
Ba-Beep.
“Data transfer complete,” announced the communications console.
“Thank you, kindly,” Poz retracted his arm into his body.
Oxade marched into the control deck and stood in the middle of the room. He looked around with disgust, “Ugh, USARIC really broke the mold when they made Beta, didn’t they? This is one stinking hellhole, for sure.”
“Hello, Oxade.”
“Hey, guys. Where are the others?”
“Something very peculiar happened while we were conducting the transfer.”
“Did the transfer complete?”
“Yes,” Poz blinked his eyebulbs and beeped, “All fifteen brontobytes of it. The thing is, though—”
“—Where is everyone? I told Hughes and Nutrene to keep an eye on them.”
“If you’d let me finish,” Poz interrupted, “Something untoward occurred right over there, behind you.”
Oxade’s heels skidded across Tor’s vomit patch by the chair, “Whoa,” he yelped and gripped the sticky b
ack rest.
“Ugh. What the hell is this?” He flung the pink slime from his glove.
“According to the Manuel’s last data point, it’s called Symphonium. An evolutionary entity from whichever celestial territory they visited.”
“Celestial territory? What are you talking about?”
“The Manuel recording a place name. Pink Symphony. Not much else is known. I would say it certainly accounts for the virus that has pervaded the ship.”
Oxade looked at the concoction of drool in his gloved palm and grew anxious, “You said there was something untoward?”
“Yes,” Neg hopped over to Oxade and beeped, “They all ran off. Tor Klyce turned into a fleshy spider thing and puked on the floor.”
“Eurgh,” Oxade moved away from the puke on the floor and inspected his heel, “You could have warned me.”
“Well, we did try.”
“They’re all Androgynes, bar two. The botanist woman and the Captain,” Oxade scowled, “If there was a virus it won’t have affected anyone but them.”
Poz and Neg watched Oxade wipe the remains of the goo on the communications panel.
“You’re wrong, I’m afraid,” Manuel’s voice sparked up. His book holograph drew along the air and sparked, announcing his arrival.
“Manuel?”
“Yes.”
“Where are your crew, Manuel?”
“Do I detect a hint of antagonism in your voice, Captain Weller?”
“No, you don’t.”
“It’s just that the way you’re talking indicates that the safety of my crew is not of paramount importance to you.”
“Manuel, I capture and kill felines for a living back on Earth,” Oxade huffed. “Don’t think my remit doesn’t extend to autopilots. Where is the rest of your crew? In particular, Jelly Anderson?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“I am the Captain of Space Opera Charlie, you Spanish-named lamebrain,” Oxade lifted his D-REZ firearm at the communications panel, “I therefore outrank, outnumber and outgun you. Now, for the final time of asking, and presuming you don’t want your physical memory to get blown to pieces, where are the others?”
“The others?”
“Yes, the others.”
“As in, the crew?” Manuel butterflied around in the hope Oxade wouldn’t shoot his physical home. He bought himself some time when he saw a distant figure move in the corridor behind the door.
“Yes, as you say, the crew.”
“Oh. Level Ten, Engine & Payload,” Manuel hoped Oxade would fall for his untruth, “We had trouble with the thrusters and wanted to check.”
“Level Ten? Isn’t that, like, a fifteen minute journey?”
“Yes, yes,” Manuel clapped his covers together, congratulating himself. “I did it. He believed me.”
“Who believed you?” Oxade fumed as he asked the question.
“Oh, uh, nothing,” Manuel faux-cleared his throat, “Sorry, just another communication coming through. I think the crew will be at least thirty minutes.”
Poz spun around to Neg and then back to Oxade, “Captain?”
“Yes, Poz?”
“I’m afraid to inform you that this autopilot is lying.”
“I am not lying,” Manuel lied.
“Lessense,” Oxade waved Poz away, “Autopilots can’t lie. Thanks for all your help, Manuel. We’ll be on our way.”
Manuel flapped his covers at the canisters, “Excuse me. You’ve forgotten your nukes.”
Oxade made for the door. In doing so, he stepped into Tripp and Jaycee’s path, “Oh.”
Tripp eyed Oxade with suspicion, “What was that about nukes? Who are you?”
“Oxade Weller, captain of Opera Charlie,” He extended his hand to shake, “We’re here to rescue you.”
Jaycee spotted the D-REZ in Oxade’s hand, “You came prepared, I see?”
“Can’t take any chances,” Oxade turned to the Rez-9 in each of their hands, “And I could say the same about you.”
Tripp shook the man’s hand a little harder than expected, “Tripp Healy. Captain. We’re relieved you managed to make it here to rescue us.”
Alex and Nutrene walked into the control deck. They were surprised to see Oxade. He threw them a snarky smile as if to say ‘shut up and let me speak.’
They nodded and lowered their guns.
“Your two crew members, here, very helpfully assisted us with tracking down a tango on board our ship.”
Oxade nodded at the splattered chair and lifted up his goo-smeared glove, “So I see.”
“Don’t get any of that stuff on your person, by the way. It’s contagious.”
Oxade’s breath fogged up the inside of his mask, “Contagious?”
“You wouldn’t believe the journey we’ve been on,” Jaycee said. “We’ve been to the center of the multiverse. We saw the nucleus of evolution with our own eyes.”
“And we rescued her,” Tripp added.
Oxade took a step away and looked around the control deck, “Am I right in thinking you’ve made one of the most important discoveries of our lifetime?”
“No,” Tripp said. “We’ve made the most important discovery of all time.”
Oxade grabbed his gun with both hands. He readied himself for action. To the others, it looked as if he was getting comfortable.
Both conclusions were true.
“We have to get back to Earth,” Tripp said. “We need to get Jelly home so she can cure us all.”
“Cure you?”
“She’s pregnant,” Tripp said. “We think her litter is the key to life, when it arrives.”
Oxade laughed with a degree of venom, “You’re not serious, are you?”
“Deadly serious, yes.”
“Do you realize how stupid that sounds?”
“Actually, yes. But it’s the truth.”
“Lessense,” Oxade lifted his gun at Jaycee and Tripp. They knew something like this was coming. Alex and Nutrene circled around them and pointed their guns at both men’s faces.
“Okay, here’s what’s gonna happen,” Oxade said. “You’re going to call Anderson and get her to board Charlie. Once she’s on, we’ll join her and leave you here. Where are Wool ar-Ban, Haloo Ess, Bonnie Whitaker, Tor Klyce, and Baldron Landaker?”
“They’re all dead,” Tripp held his hands in the air along with Jaycee, “Only Jaycee and me left.”
Oxade shouted at Manuel, “Is that true? Are they all dead?”
“No, they’re all alive. Tripp is lying to you,” Manuel sped up his speech, “They’re on their way to come and kill you.
Tripp and Jaycee turned to each other - initially confused, but very quickly tuned in with what Manuel was up to.
“No, Manuel,” Tripp yelled, adding to Oxade’s confusion. “They can’t know they’re all alive.”
“I knew it, they’re not dead,” Oxade palmed the lever on the side of his K-SPARK and pointed it at the communications console. He turned to Nutrene and Alex, “Kill them!”
“Tripp, Jaycee - now,” Manuel screamed and whizzed into the air.
BLAAMMMM!
Oxade fired a shot at the communications desk. Its panels and wiry guts burst out from the wall in a haze of electric sparks. Manuel’s holographic book form began to fizzle away as a result of the explosion, “I’m hit.”
Nutrene fired a shot at Tripp.
“Get down,” Jaycee jumped on his back and pushed him to the ground. The bullet flew out of her Rez-9 and whizzed past Tripp’s head, slicing several strands of his hair away from his head.
Jaycee hit the deck with Tripp. He lifted his gun at Oxade and fired a shot.
KER-SPLATCH!
The bullet penetrated the side of Oxade’s left shin, pushing him to the ground.
Nutrene buried her gun in Jaycee’s face and winked at him, “Nighty-night, big boy.”
“Arrrgghhhh.”
THRA-AA-TT-A-TT!
Jaycee closed his eyes and felt a splatte
r of liquid hit his face. No pain followed, much to his amazement.
He opened his eyes to see Alex had shot her in the shoulder.
“Huh?”
He kicked Nutrene onto the floor and offered Jaycee his hand, “Get up.”
“Huh?”
Jaycee grabbed his hand and climbed to his feet. Alex turned his gun to Poz and Neg, “You two battery bunnies stay right where you are.”
Oxade and Nutrene rolled around on the floor. They clutched at their injuries and screamed blue murder.
“You bastard,” Oxade climbed to his feet and went for his D-REZ a few feet away from him.
“Ahh, da-da-da,” Alex moved with him and rammed the barrel of his firearm into his head, “Hey, scumbag. Make a move and I’ll re-carpet this place with your brain matter.”
Oxade thumped the floor in anger, “Alex? What do you think you’re doing?”
“Stay there,” Alex stepped back and grabbed Tripp’s hand, “Don’t move, so help me God I’ll split your skull open with a bullet.”
“Alex?” Oxade gasped and lifted himself up by the communications panel, “You traitor.”
“You shut up,” he yelled back, much to the amazement of Tripp and Jaycee, “You wanna talk about being a traitor?”
Oxade spluttered and removed his glove. He felt the bleeding wound on his shin and pressed the sole of his foot to the floor, “USARIC will find you. They’ll execute you.”
“I’m counting on it. Now stay there.”
“Who are you?” Tripp asked, not quite sure where to point his Rez-9.
“Alex Hughes. I’ll explain later. Let’s get off this ship.”
“Good luck, traitor,” Poz rolled toward Alex and threatened to make contact, “You’ll never escape the blast. Come here for a killing.”
Alex pushed Tripp and Jaycee toward the door, “Get back. Don’t let it touch you.”
“It?” Poz barreled forward, “That’s a bit rude, isn’t it? I’m quite clearly a he.”
THRAAAAATTT!
Alex fired into the middle of Poz’s body, pushing him back. The bullets absorbed into his body, leaving behind an array of minuscule dents.
Poz spun around and rolled into Neg. His body began to absorb into her.
“Hey, you can’t do that,” Neg complained.
“How long till detonation?” Alex asked. “How long?”
Star Cat The Complete Series Page 66
