by C. W Tickner
When they passed a cross junction, Harl finally noticed that there were signs on the wall. The engineer must have been using them to navigate. The corroded lettering of the nearest one read “Storage Deck C and LTLS”.
‘What does LTLS stand for?’ Kane asked, shining his torch on the fading letters.
‘No idea,’ Screw said, taking the turn, ‘but if we’re heading through Storage C then we’ll likely find out.’
A scratching sound came from an open doorway. Damen stopped and swung his rifle around. The light from it illuminated the room and Harl caught a glimpse of movement inside as Damen fired. The noise reverberated around the enclosed space and then ricocheted off down the corridor.
Damen stomped inside and returned holding a small limp furry animal.
Kane burst out laughing. ‘The mighty warrior returns, his prize finally caught.’
Damen grunted, ignoring the jibe, and tossed the scrawny carcass into the corridor.
‘Haven’t seen a cat on board in years,’ Screw said. ‘Thought they’d all been hunted near extinction by the Hoarders for meat.’
‘At least we could’ve had something fresh to eat when we stop,’ Harl said feeling the tug of hunger.
‘Hint taken,’ Screw said, turning off to a small room. ‘But I wouldn’t touch one of those mangy things. Don’t know what its been eating.’
The room offered a window that looked back out into the corridor to provide them with a warning if something approached. Dented lockers, their doors ripped off, lined one wall, and overturned desks lay at random close to the walls.
They huddled around a metal bucket that had once been a bin and Harl helped Damen cram bits of burnable material inside.
‘Why are there no moisture sheets down here?’ Harl asked, thinking that the material would be useful as tinder.
‘No need for them out here,’ Screw said as Kane nodded. ‘We keep our section mostly air tight to prevent water loss, leading to condensation on the walls. A few bits and bobs and we can recycle up to ninety percent of the liquid we use. With no people down here, there’s no moisture generated, so the sheets were taken down, I expect, and used elsewhere.’
Once Damen had produced a flame, they sat against the overturned tables and ate in silence as the yellow light bathed the room and the smoke drifted up into vents set in the ceiling. Dusty books had fallen from from one of the crumbled bookcases at some point in the room’s past, so Harl slowly passed them to Damen for use in the fire. Kane frowned or shook his head each time the hunter asked for more, and eventually fell into silent acceptance.
Harl grew concerned as he watched Kane toying with one of the remaining tomes. He was flicking through the tattered pages absently, lost in thought.
‘Are you okay?’ Harl asked, breaking the quiet crackle of the fire.
Kane jumped at the words. He turned the book over then set it aside, just out of Damen’s reach.
‘I’ve been thinking-’
‘That’s obvious,’ Damen snorted, leaning over to drag the book towards him.
Kane put a hand on it and Damen let him draw it back.
‘When we approached Orbital in the dropship,’ Kane said, ‘did any of you see the damage?’
‘Whole thing’s riddled with holes,’ Damen said.
‘I didn’t see anything other than the impact craters,’ Harl said.
Kane shook his head and turned to Screw. ‘What happened to the top of the ship?’
‘The dish?’ Screw said.
‘Yes. It looked as though it was heavily damaged long before we docked,’ Kane said. ‘I thought it might have been for a communications antenna, but I couldn’t be sure.’
‘Snapped off by a meteoroid,’ Screw said. ‘At least we think so. Happened so long ago we can’t be sure, and there was only partial data from the ship’s computer when Tess tried to find out more. We can receive signals but no way to reply. Why’d you think we didn’t respond? We weren’t being rude.’
‘Respond?’ Harl and Kane said together. Harl let Kane cut him off. ‘Respond to what?’
‘To your message,’ Screw said, sitting up as they stared at him in confusion.
‘What message?’ Harl asked.
‘The one that said you had made contact with the Aylen on the surface,’ Screw said. ‘Before it cut out and you all arrived in person.’
Harl looked at Kane in shock.
‘We didn’t send any messages,’ Kane said. ‘It wasn’t us.’
Chapter 8
Initial reports are flooding in. The reactor has lost 84% of its power and, as a result, we cannot boost it up to speed and continue our journey. Looks like this has to be home regardless of what we find on the planet below.
‘We’d been getting the message for over five hundred days,’ Screw said as the fire dimmed, the metal bucket glowing red. ‘It shut off shortly before you arrived. Tess discovered the signal first, and when we all heard it over the radio we were elated, throwing parties and celebrating that we were finally in partial contact with those below. It wore off once we realised there was no way to reply. The next question was how could we take the ship down?’
‘Impossible‘ Kane said.
‘Especially if there’s barely any power in the reactor,’ Screw agreed, ‘not to mention we couldn’t get the ship to move no matter how hard we tried.’
‘What did it say?’ Harl asked
‘The message said that the remnants of one of the Drop groups, Alpha, were living with one of them.’
‘Them?’ Damen asked.
‘The giants,’ Screw said.
‘An Aylen?’ Kane said sitting forward. ‘They live with one?’
‘Said they’d been able to communicate with it,’ Screw said. ‘Said they lived under its protection and that technology was something they had in common. When you flew up in your fancy ship we assumed...’
‘That we were transmitting it,’ Kane finished. ‘Tell me about the Alpha drop. Do you know anything?’
‘Only what Tess told us,’ Screw said. ‘She found documents about the Drop saying that each ship had a focussed skill. Alpha’s was technology. That’s all I know.’
‘So you know where the signal came from?’ Harl asked, thinking any place an Aylen and human could live in peace would be somewhere little Elo might like to grow up.
‘Yeah,’ Screw said. ‘We know the location roughly, or at least Tess does. The message said that anyone wanting to join them were welcome. Perhaps now we have your ship, we can all go down together, once we find a suitable place that is. In the meantime-’ He stood up, heaved the door shut, and then slouched down on a clear patch of floor and leant against a rust-riddled desk. ‘-we’d better get some shut eye. We should reach Storage C tomorrow.’
Harl blinked and twisted to shift the lumps of rotten books under him. Two green orbs peered into the room through the grubby window. His eyes shot open and he bolted upright, kicking the bucket over as the orbs disappeared.
‘What is it?’ Damen asked, sitting up, rifle pointed at the sealed door.
‘I saw something,’ Harl said, the sight of green orbs taking him back to their encounter in the Cormorant. ‘A Hoarder, I think, staring in at us.’
‘Oh dear,’ Kane said, unclipping a small pistol with shaky hands as he got up.
‘Then we’d better move careful,’ Screw said, standing and tugging open the door. He looked both ways. ‘Keep your eyes peeled for movement and traps.’
Harl joined him as Damen and Kane made ready.
‘The carcass is gone,’ Harl said, seeing the pool of blood smeared across the floor.
‘Guess something wanted to eat it,’ Screw said.
Eyes peeled, they crept through a dozen more rooms that were all empty and lifeless. Their torches were all that lit the route ahead, sparkling off the dust motes that clogged the air as they flitted from side to side. They reached a wide double door that was edged with faded yellow and black warning stripes. Scars etched the centre di
vide as though someone had attempted to pry the heavy doors open, eventually giving up.
‘What now?’ Kane asked, inspecting an ancient wiring box at the side of the doors that had presumably once been used to open the doorway.
Screw reached in to his bag and pulled out a silver cylinder with two wires attached to one end.
‘A battery’ Kane said, trying to grab it.
Screw pulled his hand back, stepped around Kane, and yanked two wires from the metal box on the wall. He started to attach the battery to the wires he’d pulled from the box on the wall.
‘Wait!’ Kane said, startling Harl and almost making Screw drop the battery. ‘You’ll kill the battery if you attach it like that.’
‘One door, one battery,’ Screw said, looking puzzled.
‘No, no,’ Kane blustered, snatching the battery from Screw. ‘You’ll fry the thing if you connect it like that.’ He shoved the wires back into the box and then fiddled around until he dragged a fresh pair out.
‘There,’ he said and passed the battery back to Screw. ‘Use those instead.’
Screw grumbled to himself as he grabbed the battery and attached the wires. The doors parted with a whirring noise, opening out in to a huge room that swallowed the light from their pitiful torches.
Screw looked at the battery and shook his head.
‘It should be smoking,’ he said, turning it over in his hands.
‘You can use it again,’ Kane said, distractedly, as they took in the vast space beyond the doors.
Thirty metres up, the ceiling curved over them from wall to wall, supported by thick pillars that rose up from the floor. Walkways criss-crossed the vast space between the columns. But it was the floor that held the main interest. Hundreds of cloth-covered shapes were lined up neatly from wall to wall.
Harl led the way into the room with a strange sense of awe building inside. He couldn’t say why, but the further in he got, the more the feeling began to overwhelm him. He stepped between the ranks of cloth-covered objects and ran a finger along the nearest rotting sheet, trailing a line through the thick, dry dust that coated it.
‘What are they?’ Kane asked, banging a fist down on one of the covered objects. It rang like metal and the echoes bounced from wall to wall and then ricocheted from the ceiling.
Damen gripped the cloth in both hands and heaved the material off, throwing up a storm of dust as he revealed a huge, solid metal chassis sitting on wheeled tracks. A long double barrel extended from a domed section perched on top the square hulk of steel.
‘What is it?’ Damen asked clambering up on the machine.
‘A vehicle,’ Kane said.
‘A tank,’ Screw said in amazement, running a hand on the angled plating. ‘I didn’t think there were any left on board...’
‘A what?’ Harl asked not knowing the word.
‘Tank‘ Screw said. ‘Never seen one myself and I only heard of them from Tess when she talked about the Drop. Was one of the machines they took down.’
Harl stepped back and ran his eyes over the vehicle. Thick metal plates covered the machine on all sides, providing a huge amount of armour. The sense of its weight was almost overwhelming.
‘I can see why they call it a tank,’ he said. He slapped the side. ‘It’s just metal, like a giant container on wheels.’
‘What can it do?’ Kane asked, kneeling to inspect the metal links encasing the wheels.
‘What can’t it do?’ Screw said. ‘It’s for pulling, pushing, crushing and fighting.’
‘Fighting?’ Damen asked, half lifting a hatch on the top.
‘It fires like a rifle,’ Screw said, ‘though on a much more impressive scale. Through those.’ He pointed at the twin pipes jutting from the domed top.
‘It’s hollow,’ Damen said, jumping down into the belly of the beast. His voice echoed in the hollowed interior. ‘Will it work?’
‘Possibly,’ Screw said. ‘No reason why not.’
‘How many are there?’ Harl asked himself, staring at what must have been a hundred.
‘Enough to bring down an Aylen,’ Damen said, popping back up from inside, a grin showing through his beard.
‘How didn’t you know about these?’ Kane asked, crouching to peer under the machine.
‘Only seen about a quarter of the rear decks,’ Screw said. ‘Hoped to see em all before my time, but I guess that changes now with your arrival.’
‘Why?’ Harl asked.
Screw shrugged. ‘Reckon we’ll all be heading planetside before too long.’
‘You’re better off up here,’ Damen said, climbing down. ‘The Aylen don’t make for good neighbours.’
‘Let’s get a move on,’ Screw said. ‘Got a feeling we’re gunna find more than this down here. Should be an exit on the far side.’
They spread out, each taking a row. A set of stairs led up to the walkway from just beyond the halfway point. Harl veered across and clanked up the creaky steps so that he could look down at the others, but his eye was drawn to the covered vehicles further on. Their outline had changed beneath the sheets. They looked different to the ones they had already investigated.
‘Screw,’ he called down, pointing. ‘Can you uncover that one.’
Screw yanked the moulding sheet off as Harl headed back down, eager to get a closer look. The new mechanical beast resembled a giant metal dragonfly. But where the delicate wings should have been, huge blades sprouted from a central hub, like swords reaching out from the machine. He reached up on tip toes and pulled one down. It flexed along its length and then sprang back up. He walked up to the machine’s body and glanced inside a glass window near the front. There were two seats inside, one in front of the other, and they were surrounded by a curving panel of buttons and dials.
‘Fascinating. Kane said, peering inside next to Harl. His face lit up in boyish wonder. ‘It’s a flying craft of some kind.’
A creak drew Harl’s gaze up to the far end of the room. He tracked the walkway with his light until the distance grew too great and the shadows won. But the darkness wasn’t complete. Two distant green lights gleamed back at him. It was a Hoarder.
A chill ran down Harl’s spine at the thought of being stalked. Instead of waiting to be caught, he ran straight to the nearest walkway.
‘Over there,’ he shouted a warning as he passed the others, pointing to where the green lights peered back at them, and then dashed up the stairs two at a time. His boots rang on the steel frame as he dodged left and right to pass boxes rusting on the walkway.
When he reached the spot where he’d seen the Hoarder, he found it empty. The Hoarder had disappeared. He stared down at a pair of goggles resting on the edge of the walkway. Had they been dropped? Or had they been carefully positioned…
He stumbled forwards as something crashed out from the box behind him and leapt onto his back. Nimble arms stretched around him and then a crude blade was jabbed towards his chest. He caught the assailant’s wrist with one hand, dropping his torch so that his other hand could grope blindly at the Hoarder. He grabbed a handfull of long, greasy hair and his attacker hissed. Harl could hear someone else running along the walkway, but he couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from, so he bucked forward and threw the Hoarder forward over his shoulder. The Hoarder slammed to the metal walkway with a cry as the knife spun in the beam of Harl’s torchlight and then rolled off the walkway. Harl knelt and snatched up the torch. He aimed it up at the Hoarder as the figure spun to a crouch. Blue eyes reflected in the beam. A hiss came from under the figure’s black mouth mask.
Footsteps pounded behind Harl and he risked a quick glance behind. A light blinded him as he recognised Damen’s voice shouting, ‘Get out the way!’
Harl twisted back to the Hoarder, but it was too late, the Hoarder had grabbed the goggles and leapt down towards one of the tanks below the walkway. Blue light flared from Damen’s rifle, scorching the ragged sheet but missing the Hoarder as the figure landed with a hollow bang on the tank
and raced off into the darkness.
Harl grabbed the railing and threw himself over. Damen thudded down beside him as Screw and Kane met them by the tank, both chasing the runner. They could barely keep up. The Hoarder in the Cormorant had not been in well-known surroundings and yet they had barely kept up. Here though, the Hoarder could follow memorised paths and disappear like a ghost.
Harl weaved between the vehicles, barely keeping the Hoarder in sight, before rounding one final pillar to find that the Hoarder had vanished.
‘Dammit,’ Screw said, as the four of them split skidded to a halt. ‘If it lets the others know, they’ll be back and we’ll be goners.’
Harl scanned the wide space, waiting for the Hoarder to check back and reveal its green lenses. It couldn’t be far away.
‘Not enough time,’ Kane said from beside him.
‘For what?’ Damen asked, snapping Kane from some line of deep thought.
‘To disappear,’ Kane said.
He was right, Harl thought. Even with their uncanny agility, the Hoarder could not have vanished so suddenly, unless it was hiding close by. A light shower of dust brushed his face making him sneeze. He craned his head back, expecting a second sneeze and spotted movement on the column beside them.
Shifting the torch beam to the column, it highlighted a crooked ladder up to the ceiling. A figure was clambering through a trap door set high in the roof above. The door slammed shut as blue light burst against it, accompanied by Damen’s curse.
Harl grabbed the first rung of the ladder and hauled himself up. The others shouted for him to slow as they followed, but he just scampered up the ladder, only pausing when he reached the steel trap door. He could hear movement on the far side. He let the sword slide from his shoulder and, looping his arm through a rung, pulled the blade from the scabbard and pressed the button. The sword started to hum and he began slicing the blade into the metal. It sunk slowly at first and juddered forward when it pierced the hatch.
‘Watch out!’ he called as he circled the blade around, melting a hole, before letting the plate fall away to leave an open gap through which they could climb up.
