“That’s not technically accurate at all,” said Loren. “But there is a virus. It took over the controls and opened fire. The ship destroyed Pikkish, but we didn’t pull the trigger.”
“Assertion: Accepted.”
Junta’s dark eyes hovered across the group for several lingering seconds. At last, he lowered his rifle.
“Thanks, Junta. I always thought you looked like a reasonable guy,” Cal said. He smiled at the crew. “Haven’t I always said that?”
“Assertion: Rejected,” said the Sentience.
“OK, so no, I haven’t said it, but I’ve definitely thought it.”
“Assertion: Rejected.”
Cal battled valiantly to keep his smile in place. He pointed up at the pulsing light. “So, am I right in thinking this thing’s a lie detector?”
“It’s their god,” Loren whispered.
“No, I mean, yeah, but it can also tell if someone’s lying? Is that one of its super powers?”
“Looks like it,” said Mech.
“OK. OK, that’s good,” said Cal. “Mizette. Miz. I want you to shut up and listen to me for a second here, OK? I’m not very good at this stuff, and this is a one-time only thing, so you’d better listen. You all had.”
He took a deep breath. “I am truly sorry that I made you hate me. I’m not saying I regret the fact that I didn’t eat my parents alive, but I’m sorry you feel like I’ve hurt you. If I could go back in time and eat my parents… Well, no, I wouldn’t, obviously, that would be insane, but… I sort of forgot where I’m going with this.”
“I think you were trying to apologize,” said Mech.
“Yes! That’s it. I didn’t eat my parents, but we didn’t really get along. Like, at all. Fact is, I haven’t really gotten along with anyone in a long time, not since I… lost someone. I’ve never felt part of anything since then. A family, or whatever. It’s just been me, you know? Doing my thing. Partying. Pulling scams, getting into trouble.” He hesitated. “I’ve lost the thread again.”
“Apologizing,” sighed Loren.
“Yes. Apologizing. I don’t want you to hate me, Mizette – and that’s… that’s amazing. To me, that really means something. See, I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. At least, I thought I didn’t. But turns out I care what you think. What all of you think. Well, maybe not Mech.”
“Fonk you, shizznod!”
Miz ran her tongue across her teeth. “Who did you lose?” she asked, after some thought.
“What?” said Cal.
“You said you lost someone. Who?”
Cal stared at her, but not at her at all. He looked through her, instead, seeing something that was no longer there.
“That doesn’t matter. The point is, I haven’t felt like I’ve belonged anywhere since that day. Not really. And yet… when I stepped on that ship. With you guys. I dunno. It felt like a possibility, you know?”
He clenched and unclenched his jaw, then looked down at the floor for a few moments, composing himself. “So yeah, that’s really all I wanted to say. I’m sorry I lied to you.”
The Symmorium Sentience pulsed all the colors of the rainbow. Unnoticed by anyone, Mech wiped a tiny droplet of coolant from the corner of his eye.
“Assertion: Accepted.”
“And I’ll never lie to any of you again,” Cal said.
“Assertion: Rejected.”
Cal shrugged. “Yeah. OK, OK. It was worth a try, though, right?” he said. He cleared his throat, then produced a smile from nowhere. “And now, let us never speak of any of that stuff I just said again. Deal?”
There was a soft hiss from Mech’s shoulders. He looked down as both arms raised out to his sides, pivoting upwards until they were at right angles to his body.
“What the Hell is this?” Mech muttered.
“What are you doing?” demanded the Symmorium commander, raising his weapon again.
“Fonked if I know,” Mech said. He grimaced as he tried to force his arms back down. “I ain’t moving them.”
“The virus?” said Cal.
As if in answer to his question, a torrent of glowing green dots erupted from palms of Mech’s hands, blasting the glass walls like the spray from a power hose.
The ever-present chorus of whale song became a brief scream of anguish, then the pulsing color inside the tank flickered into silent darkness.
“Oh man, that ain’t good,” Mech whispered, his arms dropping back to his sides again.
“What have you done? What did you do?” Commander Junta demanded, his gun trained on Mech.
“I don’t… That wasn’t… I don’t know, man! I don’t know what happened!”
The light inside the tank returned. “Oh, thank God,” Cal said. “For a horrible moment there I thought something terrible was going to…”
Floating through the water, the shapeless surface of the Sentience swarmed with a million green dots.
“Yeah. Something terrible has happened,” concluded Cal.
“What is this?” Junta roared. “What have you done to the Sentience?”
“It’s the virus,” said Loren. “It’s… It must be the virus. It’s infected it.”
“You knew this would happen! This is a Zertex attack!”
“No, we didn’t, we didn’t know!” Loren protested. “It isn’t a Zertex attack, it’s the virus.”
Cal blinked, slowly. His stomach felt like it were being drawn into a tangled knot. He looked across the faces of the rest of the crew.
“No. I think… I think he’s right,” he said.
All eyes turned towards him. “What?” said Loren. “What do you mean?”
“Zertex did this,” Cal said. “It all makes sense. Well, not all of it, but most of it. Bits of it, anyway.”
“What you talking about?” Mech demanded.
“Us. This! Sinclair set us up,” said Cal. Loren began to protest, but he cut her off. “Think about it. Think about why we’re all here. He needed me and Splurt to get the data off that Kornack guy. Mech, he needed you to hold the virus inside your head. Miz, the only reason we were brought to the Sentience in the first place was because of you. He used us all. He used us to infect the Sentience to the virus. We’re a Trojan Horse.”
“What’s a Trojan?” asked Mech.
“What’s a horse?” asked Miz.
“I don’t… No, it doesn’t make sense.” Loren said.
“It does! It completely makes sense,” said Cal. “Everyone had a role to play that led us to right here and right now.”
“But what about me? Why would he send me?” Loren asked.
Mech tutted. “Because he needed an uptight motherfonker to make sure we stuck to the plan.”
“No,” said Loren. “No. That’s not…”
“You. Shark guy. When you first saw us, why did you come out of warp?”
“We… we were warned of pirate activity,” Junta replied. He twitched and shook his head, like a horse trying to shake away an annoying fly. “We received a warning.”
“Anonymously, I bet,” said Cal. “See, Loren? They were told to watch out for pirates at the exact same place and time as our warp thingy conveniently broke.”
“I didn’t break it,” she said, automatically.
“I know! That’s what I’m saying. It was sabotaged. It was supposed to break down when it did, so we’d run into the commander here.” Cal spun to face Junta. The Symmorium swayed slightly on his feet, his eyes not quite focusing. “You were tracking us ever since, weren’t you? That’s why you caught up with us at Pikkish – just in time to see us blow up the whole planet.”
“Moon,” Mech corrected.
“Whatever. My point is, this whole thing – getting the virus here – it’s Zertex. President Sinclair set it all up!”
“But… he wouldn’t,” said Loren. “Would he? I mean… the peace process.”
The room flashed red as the wailing of a siren echoed int
o the narrow space. “Unidentified attack vessels approaching,” warned a gruff-sounding mechanical voice. “All Symmorium, protect the Sentience.”
“I’d say the peace is about to be all processed out,” Cal said.
Suddenly, Junta lunged forwards, taking aim at Cal’s head with his gun. Miz’s claws flashed in the air, and the gun’s barrel clanked on the floor in three pieces.
The Symmorium commander’s dark eyes sparkled with flecks of green. He made a grab for Cal’s throat, but Cal ducked out of reach before the alien’s hands found their target.
Junta spun, teeth bared, his eyes shining with the virus’s glow.
“So… you said they’re all connected to the Sentience, right?” said Cal.
The commander lunged again, only for Mech to throw a metal arm up into his path. The Symmorium’s head hit the elbow hard, and he dropped to the floor in a groaning heap.
“Yeah, they’re all connected,” said Mech.
“So, what does that mean? They’re all infected?” Miz asked.
“And Zertex is sending attack ships to wipe them all out,” Loren said, staggering slightly as she realized the full, terrible truth.
“There are kids on this station,” said Cal. “I don’t necessarily like all of them – OK, one, in particular – but they’re just kids.”
“They train their warriors from childhood. There are children on every Symmorium ship,” Loren said.
“Well, there won’t be for long,” said Cal. “Not if Sinclair starts blowing them all up.”
Loren shook her head. “This is… This is our fault.”
Cal shrugged. “Yeah. No. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” he said. “That’s not the big question. The big question is, what are we going to do about it?”
“Us?” said Miz. “What can we do? It’s way too late to do anything.”
Cal pointed to the Sentience, unmoving and glowing eerily in its tank. “Mech, is there some way you can get the virus out of the Sentience?”
“Out of that thing? No!”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a god. I can’t just hook myself up to a god and try to beat a virus out of it.”
“Why not?”
Mech’s metal jaw opened. He hesitated. “Because… because… Just because, OK?”
Cal gave him a thumbs up. “Still, you’re going to try, and that’s what counts. Miz, you need to stay here and protect him. The Symmorium are going to come in here, and they’re not going to be happy. Also, they might be zombies. Try not to kill them, but keep them away from Mech while he does his thing.”
“I can’t do no ‘thing’ with that thing!” Mech protested.
“That’s the spirit!” said Cal, slapping him playfully on the cheek.
He turned to Loren next. “You and me need to get back to the ship. We can hold Zertex off until Mech has anti-virused the shizz out of the Sentience.”
“What?!” Loren spluttered. “We can’t fight them all!” She stuck her thumbnail in her mouth and chewed. “I can’t fight them all. Miz is right. I’m no pilot.”
Cal caught her by the shoulders. “You know Mech’s wrong, don’t you? You know Sinclair didn’t send you on this mission because you’re an uptight motherfonker? I mean, you are, obviously, and we’re going to have to address that at a later date, but that’s not why he sent you.”
Loren frowned. “Then why did he send me?”
“Because he knows something you don’t,” Cal said. “He knows you’re the best damn pilot in the fleet.”
“Yeah, on the simulator, maybe,” Loren said.
“And off it,” said Cal. “You just need to start believing that. Sinclair sent you because he knew you could outmaneuver the Symmorium and anything else we came across. Because you’re awesome.”
He put a hand on the side of her face. “I believe in you, Teela Loren. Come on, guys, let’s all say it. I believe in you, Loren! I believe in you, Loren!”
“Yeah, there’s no way I’m going to do that,” said Miz.
“Man’s got a point, though,” said Mech. “You ain’t killed us so far.”
“See?” said Cal. “Even Mech agrees with me. When does that ever happen?”
“I mean, sure, it’s been close a few times…”
“OK, Mech, you can shut up now,” Cal told him. He spun to address the whole group. “We can do this. We can fix this thing we’ve done. We can save everyone, and show that son of a bedge, Sinclair, that he can’t trick us into doing his dirty work for him. But the only way we can do that is if we work together.”
“But what about my money?” Mech groaned. “They told me I was getting my own planet, man. I want my own planet.”
“Yeah, that was never gonna happen, Mech,” said Cal. “Far as they’re concerned, the shark-dudes have killed us already.”
He looked across the faces of the others. “So, who’s with me? Miz?”
Mizette sniffed. She ran a clawed hand through the hair on top of her head. “Oh fine,” she said, sighing heavily. “I guess so.”
“I’m in,” said Loren. “For all the good it’ll do.”
“Great! Great! That’s awesome,” said Cal. “Mech? How about you? Can’t do it without you. What do you say? We need you on the team for this one.”
Mech shook his head, slowly. His metal jaw whirred as it opened and closed. “What you talking about? I already told you, we ain’t no team,” he said. He met Cal’s gaze, then held out a hand, fist clenched. “We’re a motherfonking space team.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Cal and Loren sprinted the last few feet to the Shatner’s ramp and scrambled aboard. Behind them, a throng of Symmorium gave chase, their teeth bared, their hands clawing at the air.
“Hey,” Cal shouted through the closing gap. “Do you know that on Earth we make movies about what amshoops you guys are? One was even in 3D. Oh, and in Japan, they use you in soup.”
The ramp locked into position, leaving the Symmorium snapping and snarling outside.
“That little spectacle should buy Mech some time,” Cal said, racing onto the flight deck. Splurt dropped from the ceiling and bounced happily in a circle around Cal’s chair as he strapped himself in. “Hey, buddy, there you are! A lot of crazy shizz has happened while we were away. I’ll fill you in later, OK?”
The engines whined as Loren fired up the thrusters. “I make a dozen or more Zertex ships on the long-range scanners,” she announced. “Coming in hot. I don’t know if we can do this.”
“Sure we can,” said Cal. “After all, we’ve got something they don’t.”
Loren half-smiled. “Yeah, Yeah. ‘The best pilot in the fleet.’ I know, I know.”
“Actually, I was going to say a roguishly-handsome captain with a flair for adventure, but sure, your one works, too.”
Loren eased back on the stick and raised the Shatner off the deck.
“Can you Skype the Zertex ships, or whatever it is you do to call them?” Cal asked.
“Yeah, give me one second,” Loren said. She guided the ship through the energy field and away from the station. The Symmorium ships hung in space all around them, floating lifelessly.
Once they were clear, she flipped a few switches and tapped on a keypad. “OK, signaling Zertex command ship now.”
A window appeared on the screen. Legate Jjin scowled at them across the vastness of space.
“Hey, look. It’s Jjin!” said Cal. “Jjin came along for the party. How you doing there, big guy?”
“Gunso Loren. What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Jjin demanded.
“Sorry, sir,” said Loren. “I can’t answer that.”
“You will answer when I tell you to,” Jjin growled.
“Afraid not, sir. You want answers, you’re going to have to talk to the captain.”
Jjin’s black-as-night eyebrows furrowed. “Captain?”
“I guess that must be me,” said Cal, spinning
a full three-sixty in his seat. “I see you didn’t invest in a nasal hair trimmer like we discussed, Jjin. It’s your call – personally, I think it was a mistake, but hey, it’s not my nose, so you do what you feel is right.”
Cal stood up. “And, in other news, we know all about you and Sinclair’s plan to wipe out the Symmorium, and, well, we’re not in favor. In fact, I’d go so far as to say we actively disapprove.”
“Your opinion is irrelevant,” Jjin told him.
“Well, maybe not. You see, we disapprove so strongly, that we all got together and took a vote and we decided we’re going to stop you.”
Jjin sneered. “You? Stop us? Ludicrous.”
“Says the man with the cartoon eyebrows,” said Cal.
Jjin self-consciously reached up and brushed down one of his ‘brows. “Stand in our way and you shall be destroyed.”
“Stand in our way and you shall be destroyed,” said Cal. “Even though, you know, we’re not really trying to get anywhere, so you’re technically not in our way. But you get the point. Don’t mess with us, is what I’m basically saying. Because we’ll win.”
“Really?” said Jjin. “Let’s put that to the test, shall we?”
A series of flashes lit up the sky all around the Shatner as a whole squadron of Zertex fighters dropped out of orbit, and immediately opened fire with their cannons.
Cal stumbled backwards into his seat as Loren banked upwards. He scrabbled with his belt, clipping himself in as she threw the ship into a spinning loop.
“Give me my guns,” he urged, then relaxed into the now familiar grip of the headrest on the back of his neck. The panels locked in place. The visor slid down. Cal’s hands found the targeting sticks just as he was plunged into the full screen, surround sound VR simulation of the battle.
“Wait, do we have shields?” he asked, shouting to make himself heard over the roaring of the Shatner’s thrusters.
“Not fully. They haven’t had a chance to recharge,” Loren replied.
“How not fully? What are they at?”
“Sixteen percent,” Loren said. A beam of red cannon fire tore across the ship’s hull. “No, wait. Make that eight.”
“Eight?” Cal spluttered. “We’ve got eight percent shields? Why did no-one tell me? This is fonking suicide!”
Space Team Page 20
