by Thadd Evans
Vren raised his hand. A stiletto blade popped out of his sleeve. He reached out, then slashed Hast’s throat.
As blood spurted, Hast tried to scream. He fired and barely missed Vren, then fell to the floor.
“Down!” I yelled to the passengers, dropping flat to the deck.
The Ulthe with auburn hair shot at Vren.
Vren ducked, incredibly fast. He yanked star-shaped photonic cable slicers out of his sleeve, and threw a slicer.
It struck auburn-hair’s forehead. He hollered, “Eeeee!” as blood gushed out, then collapsed.
Vren flung another one.
It struck sunken-cheek’s nose, knocking him backward.
Blue-face aimed, then fired.
The beam ricocheted off a facet, one of many protective shields on Vren’s spacesuit. Vren threw another slicer.
It struck Blue-face’s shoulder. He howled while ripping out the slicer, then sprinted away toward the front of the ship, leaving a trail of blood, and entered the next compartment.
I scrambled up and touched Hast’s neck. No pulse.
Vren stooped, and placed several fingers on sunken-cheek’s neck.
I grabbed Hast’s pistol, an LS5, then took off chasing Blue-face. I entered a dimly lit room and paused, searching.
Near the top of a server tiny lights, devices displaying meaningless information, kept pulsating. I didn’t see the Ulthe anywhere.
Behind me, beyond my peripheral vision, the sound of approaching boot-heels grew louder. I glanced over my shoulder, my adrenaline pumping,
Not far away, behind a waist-high telescope housing, Vren, a gun in hand, crouched, protecting himself. He whispered, “Jason, my slicers killed both Ulthe. I grabbed one’s LS Five.”
“Good work.” An LS5, a pistol with only two modes, kill and stun, wasn’t sophisticated. If it was in kill mode, you had to change the setting by hand. The weapon couldn’t do it automatically.
At the opposite end of the room, Blue-face peeked out from behind a spectrometer housing and fired.
The beam ricocheted off a facet on Vren’s suit, close to his neck. He flinched.
We jumped behind a chair. Both of us discharged our weapons.
The Ulthe dove behind a huge altimeter.
We fired. Our laser beams ricocheted off the device.
Our adversary peeked around the corner and sprinted away, toward the next compartment.
I ran after him, Vren behind me. I blurted, “Ey.exr.on.” My robotic left eye, which I hadn’t told anyone about, switched to extreme x-ray. I entered the next compartment, a poorly illuminated bridge.
Near the middle of the twenty-foot long room, a few inches behind a spectrometer housing, a humanoid silhouette—a poorly lit shape—stepped to the right. Because he was behind the spectrometer—equipment with thick carbon nanotube housing, a shield that made it difficult to see him clearly—I couldn’t tell if he was facing me, waiting for a chance to stick his head out and blast us.
And then blind luck stepped in. To my right, not far away, an asteroid hit the ship’s fuselage.
The impact knocked us off our feet and created a one-foot three-inch diameter hole.
Vren and I gripped wall-mounted cables as our feet were sucked toward the hole. Our helmets rose out of our collars. Then our face masks closed.
Near the edge of my screen, warning text flashed. Docking Malfunction 2. This Series Four craft had just pulled away from ST7!
The sucking noise became louder. Wanting to be heard, Vren’s shouted, his voice coming out of my earplugs. “Did the asteroid collision separate the ships?”
“I’m not sure. Perhaps the Ulthe did it.” I crawled forward. As sweat poured down my forehead, Vren and I headed for the spectrometer housing. We went around it and paused, then looked around, searching for Blue-face, wondering why he hadn’t fired at us. Then we saw why.
At the other end of the room, our attacker sat in the pilot’s chair seat with its back to us. He peeked around the edge of it and shot at us.
Both of us jerked our heads down. The beam hit a nearby cable.
Next to the Ulthe, a pewter-colored robot, a CR with a pyramid-shaped head, a combat ready prototype with a body that was covered by rectangular shields, climbed out of the copilot’s seat and walked toward us.
We fired together.
Beams ricocheted off the CR’s head. The android kept going, then grabbed Vren’s throat.
Vren shouted, “Help me!”
I uttered a command, “Rotate.loopsixty.on.”
The CR’s arms, appendages with titanium muscles, began jerking, because I had just sent conflicting commands into the android’s hard drive. The CR and Vren fell to the floor.
Vren yelled, “Get him off!”
I shouted, “Nintwenty-two.on!” This command activated too many nanomotors inside the CR’s chest and arms. The CR’s hands began shaking uncontrollably. Soon he went into convulsions and let go of Vren.
A blast from Blue-face’s weapon hit my pistol. I dropped it, then dived to the floor after it.
As a beam hit the top of my helmet, I shot our adversary in the forehead.
He screamed and collapsed.
I jumped to my feet, then ran forward and plopped down in the pilot’s seat.
Outside the window, just over two miles from us, I saw the edge of an asteroid belt. If we didn’t turn starboard in a few minuteseconds, we’d smash into it.
I shoved my hand through 3D text. Oyi.y.on( ).
A recorded warning, a translation, came out of my earplugs. Improper command. Enter correct password.
I froze, stunned by the bad news. I couldn’t break through this firewall. It was impossible to steer this craft.
I stuck my hand inside 2D text. Em.eir( ).
Another message came out of my earplugs. Improper command. Need correct password.
I didn’t know which syntax to use. Damn!
I glanced to the right as the CR sat up.
Vren shot it in the face.
The android crashed to the floor. Within seconds, it rose, moving fast.
Vren discharged his LS5.
A beam from it struck the CR’s leg. The robot toppled over on top of Vren. Both of them rolled over.
Vren sprang to his feet, then slashed the CR’s lower arm with his blade. He missed a thick cable, one that sent photonic messages to its hand.
The robot punched Vren’s chest.
He shouted, “Owww,” and fell down. As Vren raised one hand, trying to protect himself, the CR jumped on him. Then it punched his face. I shot the android in the back.
It spun around and sprinted toward me.
I ducked.
The CR kicked my hip. I howled, and tripped.
Not far behind the robot, I heard Ieeb say, “On.qu.nanmfive.” In a split second, the robot pivoted, walked toward her, one fist raised. Much to my surprise, it punched empty space, missing her helmeted face by inches because its nanomotors had malfunctioned.
Without warning, it grabbed her neck. The CR’s hard drive had eliminated the false command.
Ieeb shouted, “On.qu.nanmseven!”
The robot let go. As I watched in horror, it shoved Ieeb to the floor, then marched toward her.
She rose to her feet. “On.qu.hippoc.”
The android slowed down because she had ordered several dendrites in its polymer hippocampus to shut off. After hesitating, the CR accelerated.
Ieeb yanked a telescope off a stand and hit the robot’s leg. The android stumbled.
Ieeb shouted, “Op.bridone. Take that, you bastard!”
On the floor, a hatch opened, and air started rushing outside, pulling us toward the opening.
Ieeb reached out, then grabbed the edge of an altimeter housing.
The CR stood.
Vren kicked its leg.
The android stepped backward, trying to regain its balance.
Ieeb yelled, “On.qu.nanmfour.”
The robot staggered to the right b
ecause Ieeb’s command had shut off several nanomotors in its leg. Suddenly, the android was sucked outside!
Ieeb announced, “Close.” The hatch closed.
That reminded me of the asteroid hole. I looked toward it and saw Vren slapping a patch on it from a broken-open case nearby.
Wanting to know where the ship was going, I looked out the cockpit window. At the same time, I shoved my hand through code. Em.air( ).
Near the top of my screen, warning text flashed. Improper command. Need correct password.
I shook my head, disgusted.
Ieeb sat in the co-pilot’s chair, a nervous expression on her face. “The Ulthe use eighty to one hundred firewalls to protect their ship’s hard drive. You need a quantum computer to break through them.”
I blinked. “My only quantum computer is on ST Seven.”
Ieeb scowled. “There’s one alternative, but I’ll have to work fast.” She shoved her fingers through object code.
Firew1.search( )
Firew2.search( )
Firew3.search( )
Firew4.search( ).
Outside the window, chunks of asteroids whizzed by.
On my screen, warning text flashed. Starboard wing and engine three are malfunctioning.
At the top of a monitor, I noticed that the starboard wing tip was gone, torn off. Sweat began pouring down my forehead. Even if we broke through the firewall, we couldn’t steer this space vessel.
I paused as my stomach muscles tightened, scrambling for a solution. “It’s impossible to reach my ship with this one because there’s only one wing left. I need to find a space pod and fly back to ST Seven. After I reach my ship, I’ll head for this one, then dock on it. Can you at least slow this bastard down?”
“I’ll try.” Ieeb rammed her trembling hand through floating 3D computer syntax. “There’s a one-seat pod in the room behind this one.”
Vren, his eyes wide open, handed me a four-inch-long bolt with a coiled line attached to it. “Shoot the bolt into your ship’s hull and climb up the tether. The drawback is that the tether is only forty feet long.”
I took it and nodded.
Ieeb flinched, a terrified look on her face. “In about sixteen minutes, this craft will enter the asteroid field. We can’t help hitting something, and the ship will disintegrate.”
I turned, then hurried toward the next room. In seconds, the torpedo shaped pod’s hatch opened, revealing a narrow compartment with a cushion for my chest, but no seat. I jumped inside and rested on my stomach. An inch above my head, beyond my peripheral vision, the hatch shut with a clunk. The craft shot into space, following a curved trajectory, bound for ST7, a barely visible silhouette in a sea of stars—but it grew rapidly closer.
As my adrenaline pumped harder I said, “Op.ej.” The hatch came off. I raised my hand, then fired.
The bolt hit the starboard side of my ship, close to the tail.
I gripped the tether and climbed. Without warning, it swung behind ST7. As sweat tricked off my chin, I reached the ship and crawled past a vent. An asteroid pebble whizzed past my neck. I shoved my hand over a DNA sensor. A small emergency hatch opened, and I crawled inside ST7.
After entering the bridge, I sat down and spoke into my earplug’s mouthpiece, “Vren, Ieeb, I made it.”
Ieeb shouted, “Wow, I didn’t think you would!”
I murmured quietly, “Neither did I, frankly.”
I held my hand over computer syntax, and the ship veered starboard, bound for the Ulthe craft. In the corner of the screen, ST7 docked on the craft.
Outside, the flood of stones grew thicker.
Close to the edge of a monitor, the passenger compartment hatch opened. Everyone but Tayt climbed inside my ship.
I shouted, “Vren, I’m going to undock now! Otherwise, ST Seven will smash into the asteroid field.” My ship lurched forward, away from the Ulthe craft.
Vren bellowed, “Tayt just slipped! She’s still inside the other ship. I’ll have to go back and get her.” Near the bottom of a beige screen, he attached a tether to his belt, shoved the other end into a wall-mounted-bracket, then leaped outside.
Near the corner of a tan screen, inside the Ulthe vessel’s open hatch, Tayt stuck out her hand, and yelled into her microphone. “Don’t leave me behind!”
Vren removed a short line from his belt and handed one end to Tayt.
She tied it around her waist and grabbed the line.
Vren started up his tether, Tayt a few feet behind, dangling.
The Ulthe craft smashed head-on into a boulder-sized asteroid and broke apart.
Tayt screamed, “We’re going to die!”
Vren crawled inside the passenger compartment, then pulled Tayt inside. As she began crying, the hatch closed.
I stuck my hand inside object syntax. ST7 veered port. At the top of a yellow screen, its belly barely missed asteroid pebbles.
“Astounding!” Dr. Tria blurted, his voice coming out of my earplugs.
Chapter Eleven
Vren entered the bridge and sat down. “Jason, I found Hast’s tablet and exported all the passenger’s money back into their databases.”
“Good job. How much money was left on Hast’s tablet?”
“Two cents. He was either penniless or any other funds were stored on the other Ulthe tablets.”
“He could have put them on a server. Who knows?”
Vren, an odd look on his face, paused for a moment. “By the way, I’ve heard stories about men who tried to steer single-occupancy emergency pods toward ships. None of them made it, because they didn’t create the proper vectors. You’re either the best pilot I’ve ever seen or you’re a new generation NOP.”
“I’m an independent C clone, not an NOP.” While I was on Icir, a Mlaan woman had told me about the NOP, nanorobot prototypes, androids with muscles filled with nanites, eight-legged devices, microscopic machines that shared information via wireless networks, enabling the NOP to walk, sit, talk and stand. There was a problem. Many NOP broke down six months after they were created.
“Wow! Years ago, an Aito mapmaker told me about the C’s. But all of them work for OTA. OTA interstellar craft never come to Pl Five, its moons, Icir, its moons, Danig or D Twenty-Four. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’ll tell you about it some other time.”
“I don’t think we’ll have any serious problems reaching Danig, because you can anticipate them.”
“Nobody’s that smart. It’s always best to be careful. But what happened to the ships that those emergency pods escaped from? Did they all crash?” I glanced at him, curious.
“All of them crashed. I’ll tell you about a couple. The Ode, an Aito Series One vessel, was bound for Yeela, one of Icir’s moons. When it was halfway there, one of its engines overheated. A few seconds later, before the vessel blew up, a member of the crew, a man named Deym, jumped into a pod, and it ejected.
“Although others ejected, the explosion destroyed their pods because they were too close to the Ode. Anyway, he put in the wrong coordinates, and missed The Naarn, a rescue craft.”
“Couldn’t the Naarn get to him in time?”
“No. He ran out of air and died two minutes before they reached him.”
“What about the other ship?”
“The Trem, an Amboa craft, was bound for Dyoon, a space station half a million klicks from Icir. A day before the Trem reached it, the main server accidentally pumped all the air outside and everyone began choking. Chief Engineer Vinan leaped inside an emergency pod, and it ejected. Unfortunately, the pod missed The Hocen, a reconnaissance ship, by eighty feet because Vinan switched on the port side retrorocket one second too late.”
I blinked, thinking that over. “I assume that they didn’t reach him in time.”
“You assume correctly. He ran out of oxygen and died six minutes before they arrived.”
“Did anyone aboard the Trem survive?”
“No. They didn’t have enough oxygen. They
used it up a few hours before The Hocen showed up.”
Youn entered and hugged Vren. She grinned. “Thank you. I just emailed my dad. He’ll probably respond in a few hours. Someday, I want him to take both of you out to dinner. It’s the least I can do.”
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
Vren grinned. “He sounds like a great dad.”
Youn smiled. “He is.” She left.
Ieeb entered. “Jason, I’m impressed. You went on a suicide mission and reached ST Seven.”
“Thanks.”
Ieeb smiled. “Jason, do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.”
Ieeb leaned forward and whispered, “I want to spend some time with you. Are you interested?”
In a hushed tone, I replied, “Sure. The only problem is that when we reach Danig, I’ll have to interview potential passengers, pick up cargo, and head for Nooa, another mining planet. I have a lot of bills. This is the only way I can pay them.”
She kissed me on the cheek and murmured, “Whenever you have time, come visit me.”
I raised my eyebrows, surprised by her invitation. “See you soon.”
She batted her eyes and strolled away, hips swaying.
Vren’s eyes opened wider. “Ieeb is quite a woman.”
“She’s so gorgeous the sight of her makes me nervous. I’m amazed that she isn’t married by now.”
Vren chuckled.
Dr. Tria entered. “Jason, when you were aboard that pod, you measured the solar wind, gravitational pull interaction accurately and reached your ship. Although you didn’t have much time, you succeeded. How did you do it?”
“ST Seven was surrounded by strange attractors, twisting shapes. I steered toward one of them.”
Dr. Tria rubbed his chin. “Jason, did you use your tablet to find the right strange attractor?”
“No,” I sighed. Now I’d have to explain. “I used my mechanical left eye. It kept switching from ultraviolet to visible light, to infrared, and microwave.”
Dr. Tria’s brow tightened. “You’re a cyborg. I don’t mean to be offensive; I just don’t know much about the C.”
“I am a cyborg, though I prefer to think of myself as a human.” He’d taken it pretty well. “No offense taken. Ask me anything you like.”
