by C. W Tickner
The Humanarium: Orbital by C.W Tickner.
Published by Humanarium Publishing Ltd
© 2018 C.W Tickner
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by copyright law. For permissions contact:
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Cover by Dane at Ebook launch.
Edited by Andrew Turpin.
Thank you for opening this copy of Orbital.
This is book two in the Humanarium series.
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Now sit back and enjoy the story.
The Humanarium. Book II: Orbital
Prologue
The dropship guided itself alongside the enormous vessel that was orbiting above the planet. Thrusters fired with a hiss as the little ship aligned itself, pirouetting in place until it was able to fly parallel to the mysterious craft. The vessel was hundreds of times larger than the dropship, its battered surface scarred and pockmarked with impact craters, like the face of an old, age-spotted man. Vast portions of its hull had been torn clean off to leave girders and pipelines exposed.
A huge panel in the side of the great ship slid open and the dropship slowed beside it. The view from the cockpit shifted as the tip of the smaller craft turned to reveal a cavernous docking bay.
Harl Eriksson gripped one of the control consoles hard as he leaned forward to get a better look. There was much less damage inside the new ship than on the exterior, but it looked like a steel patchwork quilt, with hundreds of metal panels welded across the hull to replace the originals as they degraded. The thrusters fired again and the dropship eased inside.
Ten rectangular bays stretched out from the wall ahead. Lights flickered into life on the front of the dropship and Harl gasped at what he could see. It was like a shipyard, but on a colossal scale. A pier ringed each bay, like a cargo dock, and each bay was isolated from the others by metal walls. Cranes were bolted to the walls and small mechanised loading vehicles were parked ready for use. There were no other ships.
Harl would’ve taken the time to wonder how something so grand had been built, but it was the tiny faces in the sunken windows at the far end of the bays that held his attention as they drifted closer to the portholes.
‘I can’t stop it,’ Kane said, putting his hands up to show the ship was moving inside the closest bay of its own accord.
As the ship slid into place in one of the docking bays, a long telescopic metallic tunnel extended out from an airlock door at the far end until it kissed the side of the dropship. There was a series of loud clicks and then the dropship settled into place.
‘Its connected to us,’ Kane said.
A sudden burst of brilliant light flashed across the ship’s window. Explosions tore through the docking bay, snapping the crane off and sending two of the vehicles bouncing off the dropship’s hull. The dropship shunted forward and nosed hard into the docking port with a screech that reverberated through the ship. Harl was thrown forward against the console from the force. He staggered upright and stared in horror out the window.
People in the other ship were pressed against the windows screaming.
The tunnel between the two ships had twisted until it looked more like a snake. Flashes of fire engulfed the interior of the docks then dissipated in an instant. Smoke spurted from pipes inside the docking bay and smothered the front window.
Another jolt surged through the ship and Harl’s head cracked into the hard metal of Kane’s chair as the scientist tried to unclip himself. A buzzing rang in Harl’s head as a hiss of smoke burst from a pipe above him and the ship rocked again.
‘Harl?’ Sonora’s voice cut through to him and the fuzziness faded. He looked up to find her standing next to him. Her blonde hair was ruffled but the bump from their impending baby somehow made her even more beautiful that normal. ‘We have to get out.’
He looked around at the suddenly empty cockpit and wondered how much time had passed. He stood, grabbed her hand, and made a break for the open door. Orange sparks flew out from a ripped-open section of wall as they slammed into the corner before sprinting for the main exit. The smell of smoke and danger hung in the air. People jostled into them as the ship rocked with tremors and, when they reached the central corridor, they were funnelled into the tight press of bodies as they pushed towards the connecting tunnel. Screams drowned out the calls for help as panic rippled through the heave of worried faces.
The tunnel ahead of them crumpled as it twisted. It was as though an Aylen was wringing the tunnel out like a damp cloth. Pipes burst and filled the corridor with choking smoke. Something smashed into the exterior of the tunnel and bent the wall inwards, propelling a shard of metal deep into the neck of the man in front.
Harl instinctively turned to shield Sonora as debris flew out. He had to protect her and the helpless life she carried. A panel buckled away from the wall, whacking Harl in the back and scoring a jagged line of searing pain across his shoulders.
He staggered forward, trying to get away from the sides of the tunnel as families screamed and scrambled over each other in desperation to exit the shuddering ship. Familiar faces squeezed past them in the smoke.
Harl, who moments ago had been staring out the cockpit window, pushed on in the desperate hope that those at the end of the tunnel were not hostile. Or had they attacked the dropship? Had they seen the ship as a threat and opened fire a soon as it came in range inside their own titanic vessel? He didn’t know; he just had to hope that it was all some kind of accident or mistake.
But he had to get Sonora out and lead the others to safety. Over a thousand people had left the planet on the ship when the Aylen attacked. They had ridden up into space before entering the bowels of this mothership and now it was their only chance for survival. No one knew anything about it. It had come as a complete surprise, even to Kane. How long had it been up here? Hundreds of years? Thousands? Kane had mentioned a rough figure, but Harl couldn’t remember it in all the chaos.
‘Make way!’ Damen’s harsh voice boomed over the yells of panic.
Harl turned to see him fighting through the tight press of people. His black beard was singed at the bottom where it had been plaited and a trickle of blood drew a line from his forehead down to a scar that was almost completely hidden among the rough fibres. A scrawny man in a long white coat was slumped – unconscious – over Damen’s burly shoulder; he was swaying like a limp fish as the tunnel rocked and Damen thrust an arm out to steady himself. It was Kane.
Steam soaked Damen’s leather jerkin as another pipeline burst, spraying everyone in range and forcing the crowd to part around the hissing cone. The sudden surge of people pushed Harl and Sonora to one side.
‘Damen!’ Harl cried out, hoping the man could hear him above the crushing stampede.
‘Harl?’ Damen called, wading through the crowd towards them. He stopped to growl at a man who shoulder-charged him in an attempted to get past, then stepped in beside them.
‘Can you make space for us?’ Harl said. ‘We have to get Sonora out.’
Black smoke was filling the upper half of the tunnel and he feared for both their lives.
Damen nodded without a word. He shifted the unconscious Kane to a better position on his shoulder and tugged a pistol from his belt. He stuck the pistol out into the center of the corridor.
‘Not like that,’ Sonora said, reaching an arm out to grab Damen’s battered leather jerkin, making him turn back. ‘That’s not going to help anyone.’
‘I don’t plan on firing it,’ he said, ‘unless those dow
n there caused this.’ He threw a dark stare down the smoke-filled tunnel towards the exit and put his arm out again. The steady stream of rushing people halted at the sight of the pistol. Those behind Damen slowed and, like a river against rocks, they parted around the weapon and the hunter’s wide torso. Harl and Sonora slipped into the space in front of Damen and a path opened ahead.
‘Go,’ Damen said, following behind them so no one could rush past.
‘What about grandpa?’ Sonora asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Damen said. ‘Maybe he got out already.’
‘A blind old man?’ Sonora asked. ‘You really think-’
‘Let’s just get ourselves out first,’ Harl said, cutting her off. ‘Then we can go back and look for him.’
Clasping her hand, he guided her as fast as she could manage towards the exit.
She was so deep into pregnancy that it hindered her movements, making him even more protective of her. She coughed and almost tripped on a groaning man who lay barely conscious on the debris-strewn floor. Harl put an arm out to steady her. If those on the big ship had done this, there would be a steep price to pay.
‘Dammit!’ he said. He stopped and glanced back at the groaning man on the floor. ‘Troy?’ Another groan confirmed his fears and he looked hopefully at Damen who’d nearly tripped over Troy.
The big man looked around at the people trying to slip past and they skidded to a halt, waiting as he holstered the pistol and scooped Troy up. Carrying both men, he nodded at Harl and pressed on ahead through the desperate crowd.
Harl and Sonora stepped over a dead man. A metal shard had been pulled out of his neck and left beside him in the spreading pool of blood. Someone was barking out orders ahead of them and Harl could just about make out a dimly lit room through the churning smoke. A backlog of people were trying to cram through into the light.
‘Alright,’ Troy cried and his legs gave a kick, threatening to dash Harl in the side of the head.
Damen crouched and Troy got his feet under him. He wobbled and made an effort to stay upright.
‘Me and catastrophe don’t mix,’ he said rubbing his temples.
‘What happened to Yara?’ Harl asked, realising Damen was not with his wife.
‘She went to get others,’ Damen said sliding his pistol free. ‘I stayed behind to get him out.’ He tilted his head at the limp white-coated figure still hanging from his broad shoulder. Kane’s wire-rimmed glasses were bent at an unnatural angle on his pinched face.
‘Single file, please. One at a time!’ a man’s voice broke through the worried shouts of families. It was coming from the other side of the open airlock. ‘Stop pushing. The impacts are over.’
Harl was glad to see a steady stream of people being let inside and he shuffled forwards with Sonora through the small chamber.
When they were past the shouting man, they faced a double door ahead and a wide room opening out to their left. People were being ordered to move left into the wide room. It had a low ceiling and was lined on one side with evenly partitioned bays. They were piled with what looked like trash and scrap metal. The opposite side was lined with windows that gave a view of the battered ship, smoking in the sealed dock. The room was massive.
People were everywhere. Faces he’d never seen before, clearly not from the dropship, were milling around, but seemed unable to decide whether to help or stare. Many were just standing there looking stunned, as if they didn’t understand what was happening. They were easy to distinguish from his own people as they were clad in thick beige clothing. It looked rough but serviceable. The same could be said of the people. Their faces were worn and tired and they looked scared and relieved at the same time.
Harl turned to watch the familiar faces of his own people as they streamed in through the doorway, coughing and wiping at tear-streaked cheeks, then forced his way through the press of people towards the door. He collided with one of the strangers from the big ship as the pressure of the crowd relaxed for a moment. The man tumbled back and landed on the scratched metal floor. He scowled up at Harl and opened his mouth ready to shout for help, as if he’d just been attacked, but Harl stuck his arm out and muttered an apology. The man stared up at the proffered hand, then shrugged and clasped it. He got to his feet and disappeared into the crowd.
‘This way,’ a man by the tunnel door said as he waved people away from the tunnel entrance and deeper into the long room.
Everyone from the dropship was either slumped down in exhaustion or pacing around with worry.
‘Grandpa,’ Sonora said, spotting Gorman sitting beside Uman on a worn beam of metal placed by the window as a bench.
As soon as she spoke, Gorman turned blank eyes towards them and stood. She led Harl by the hand through the throngs of people, many of them now looking expectantly at him and Damen for leadership.
‘Urgh,’ Sonora stopped and bent double. Harl noticed the puddle of clear water at her feet and panic flooded him.
‘Sonora?’ Harl said, feeling her hand slide from his to press her belly.
‘Harl, it’s coming. The baby’s coming,’ she gasped. ‘Get a doctor!
Chapter 1.
I am the first to wake among the scientists and even though the power is out across the ship, I am filled with excitement and trepidation. I have found this pen and notepad at my side, clearly in anticipation of recording my thoughts.
The double doors leading deeper into the ship flew open and a bustle of men and women wearing long beige coats entered the room pushing a pair of stretchers in front of them to clear the path. Their outfits were so similar to Kane’s in style that they were almost clones. Only the colour was different. Perhaps a long coat was the universal sign of medicine and science?
‘Over there,’ one of the men who’d guided people out from the dropship said, his voice piercing the constant chatter in the room. He pointed to where Sonora was sitting against the bench on the floor, surrounded by Harl, Damen and her grandfather, Gorman.
They wheeled the two stretchers right up to the group, nudging weary onlookers out the way.
‘Give her space,’ a woman said.
The woman’s bright orange hair blocked Harl’s view while she leant over Sonora. He saw a copper comb poking out from the breast pocket on her long beige coat as she turned to the other doctors.
‘A pre-labour membrane rupture,’ she said to the others before turning her attention back to Sonora. ‘It’s alright, my dear, the baby is on its way but we need to get you to the medical deck. Ease yourself on to the stretcher for me.’
The young woman helped her up on to the wheeled bed. Her bright green painted nails looked odd against her beige coat as she stopped and stared at Damen.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Are you a doctor?’ the woman asked, hands on her hips.
‘No,’ Damen said, clearly confused.
‘Then take that poor man off your shoulder and lay him on the other stretcher,’ she snapped, ‘and put that gun away or I’ll have security lock you up.’
Damen jumped into action. He shoved the pistol into his belt and bent over, letting Kane slide down on to the thin tattered mattress that covered the stretcher.
The team of doctors spun around and heaved both squeaking carts towards the double doors that were the only exit from the long room.
Harl looked at Damen. ‘Find Yara,’ he said. ‘I’m going with Sonora. Calm everyone down and find whoever runs this ship. Tell them to meet me on the medical deck, wherever that is.’
He walked straight up to the man who’d been directing the chaos from near the airlock.
‘Where is the medical deck?’ Harl asked.
The man shook his head.
‘Can't have you all wandering off into the ship,’ he said in a thick accent that was difficult to follow. ‘Least not until you’re all accounted for and Marlin has given the go ahead,’ He turned to an incoming group as the final flow of injured and lost people stumbled out of the docking tunnel. ‘This
way everyone. Come on, move it along. Plenty of space for you all.’
‘My partner is giving birth to our child,’ Harl said, angry that he might miss the birth. ‘If you don’t let me through, I have an army of well trained men to help me find her.’ He looked over at where Damen’s soldiers were huddled together. They looked nervous, but there was an air of danger about them.
‘Alright,’ the man said, holding his hands up. ‘No need for violence. Let me get the people’s representative in here.’ He plucked a small device from his belt and spoke into it.
‘I need the people’s representative in here and a code three.’ The device was a portable radio and it crackled into life as a serious voice replied. ‘Roger that.’
‘He’s coming now,’ the man said, looking over at the door which Sonora and Kane had been whisked out through.
‘What is this place?’ Harl asked.
‘Orbital,’ the man said, glancing at the exit again.
The double doors burst open and a long row of grey, armour-clad soldiers poured in, rifles and batons in hand. Harl whirled back to the man who had radioed them only to find him scrambling behind the dozen armoured men that now separated everyone from the double door.
Harl backed up to where Damen and his men stood, some still holding the weapons they had managed to bring out of the ship.
‘So we dock with what should be somewhere for us to live and this is what awaits us,’ Damen said, squaring up to the line of guards. Harl knew these men would die to protect the innocents behind them, but he had a feeling that the men facing them would do the same for their own people.
‘Hey,’ a woman said, pushing her way to the line of guards, her hands on the shoulders of her child. ‘You can't keep us here like caged hens.’
‘Yeah,’ another called from the crowd as a shoe was hurled at the soldiers.
‘Cut it out!’ a guard ordered from the line, using his rifle as a barrier to shove the nearest in the crowd backwards.
