Tales From The Edge: Emergence

by Stephen Gaskell

  Gweid followed Orich to the central access ladder, which ran most of the length of the ship. Orich glanced back at Gweid. “Check your targets, and make sure that none of the crew are near your line of fire. People move suddenly in a fight.”

  Orich and Gweid had it easy; the cargo hold and cargo lock were aft, which meant they had to climb down, instead of back, under the ship’s acceleration. The Hagfish had been converted over the years so that it could function equally well with either keel or aft being “down”, depending on whether or not the gravity field was operational. It often wasn’t.

  Gweid brushed well-worn conduits whose protruding parts had long since been worn down or replaced with something less likely to snag a passer-by. There were faint creaking sounds of metal on metal, and the smell of the recycler faded into the general smell of long-string hydrocarbons that filled the ship.

  Gweid saw Captain Wei and Ubue as he and Orich arrived at the cargo lock. The only shine visible was Ubue’s cybernetic connection to her automatic shotgun, glinting like cheap chrome. Everything else was matte: leather, worn metal, tired plastics, abraded ceramics. Even the captain’s pale hands and Ubue’s dark face had no glint to them.

  Naygard, the engineer, hustled up carrying a monstrous harpoon cannon that seemed to be all wires and metal bulbs. Orich checked his zipgun and nudged Gweid to do the same to the dolphin. Captain Wei carried a massive maglock Dominator pistol, his prerogative as captain. Gweid had a hard time keeping his eyes off of such an exotic weapon.

  “We got a look at our pursuers.” Captain Wei spoke in a clipped, rapid voice. Gweid found his manner of speech overly formal. “Epirian, small transport, orange and brown markings. Looks like Weinkurst. Whatever we took, they want back pretty badly.”

  “Did they even try to hail us?” Naygard sounded petulant.

  “Ha!” Ubue’s laugh was sharp.

  Gweid wish he knew what they’d taken from the supply drop. It had been unguarded, and was most likely contraband by Epirian standards. It was a lucky find, but he wished that they hadn’t been discovered.

  “How long?” Ubue asked.

  “They have already closed to within 500 meters and have nearly matched our velocity,” Captain Wei answered. “We are pretty sure they’ll board through the cargo lock, since it is big enough to easily fit the bigger ‘bots through. And easier for them to take back those crates.”

  “Must’ve used quite a bit of fuel to get that kind of delta vee,” Naygard said to no one in particular.

  “Cap, what’s in those crates?” asked Gweid. “’Bot parts?”

  “No, they look like canisters of some sort, holding highly viscous fluid,” Naygard answered, preempting the captain, “Maybe biological.”

  “Scares me,” said Ubue, her flat voice belying what she’d said.

  Gweid was startled by Effron’s voice, flat from the overhead speakers. “Epirian ship’s at 20 meters and closing. Captain, you guessed the mark; they’re right on top of the cargo lock.”

  Captain Wei pushed the intercom button. “How big?”

  Effron’s skills as a spotter always amazed Gweid. “The ship is smaller than we thought; there can’t be more than a few ‘bots and crew on board if they have any sort of cargo capacity. Effron out.”

  Captain Wei gestured with his Dominator. “Ubue, you have point. Naygard, hold fire until I order, and open the cargo doors when they start to cut through. We do not want decompression if they decide to cut us loose.” He looked at Orich, then let his eyes linger on Gweid.

  “You two are cleanup. Gweid, just make sure you do not hit us, and try to subdue whatever we might be missing.” The captain’s avoidance of contractions was distracting to Gweid.

  Orich looked around. “Markett’s not here. Not good,” he whispered to Gweid. The ship’s welder and handyman was enormous, and very useful in a fight.

  “Brace for zero G. We will cut thrust once they start to board,” said Captain Wei. He looked at Gweid. “Make sure you do not drift.”

  Gweid hooked his feet under a stanchion’s base and aimed the small wand of the dolphin in the direction of the cargo lock. His fingers moved rapidly on the wand, fidgeting. Gweid saw Orich glance at his hands. Orich didn’t say anything, but just aimed his zippergun towards the cargo lock.

  They felt the thump of hull-to-hull contact through the cargo lock, shifting everything slightly. Gweid heard the faint buzz of the two locks connecting, and then a metal-on-metal knocking sound from the cargo lock. Ibrahim looked at Captain Wei, who nodded. Ibrahim tapped at a small control panel and the inner iris opened, revealing the hazard lights of the cargo lock and the external door beyond. More tapping, and the pressure bolts released from their magnetic locks. The outer doors split in the middle and began to recess into the walls.

  “Get ready to kill thrust, Effron.” Captain Wei released the intercom button, but kept his hand nearby.

  “Ready, captain.” The ancient speaker put a burr in Effron’s voice.

  The lights from the Hagfish’s airlock augmented the clean, sharp lights of the Epirian ship, illuminating its own cargo hold. The walls were shiny, the protective bumpers new and pristine, the colors bright, as if it were a sunlit meadow in contrast to the Hagfish. The hold seemed empty, and Gweid found the sudden silence after the noise of docking unnerving.

  Gweid thought he heard a muted voice from the Epirian ship, then was certain he heard the hum of servo actuators.

  “Kill thrust now, Effron,” commanded Captain Wei, toggling the intercom.

  Gweid was pulled away from the cargo lock as the thrust from the Epirian ship caused the two ships to rotate about their connecting point before the Epirian ship compensated and killed its thrust as well. Gweid managed to snag the stanchion and pull himself back into position just as the first spider drone entered the cargo lock, crawling around the corner on the left-hand wall.

  The sound of drone’s flakk gun in the small space overwhelmed all else. A pinwheel of arterial blood sprayed from Naygard’s shoulder, and Ubue leaned in to her shotgun as it fired a dozen shots in such quick succession that it created a strobe effect. In less than a second, all was quiet again, Ubue’s shotgun having torn the center out of the drone’s fire control.

  A second spider drone, van der Waal feet alternately sticking to and releasing from the wall, scuttled from around the opposite corner of the cargo lock and onto the wall. Captain Wei’s Dominator pistol and Ubue’s shotgun separated the drone’s body from its legs, the now-ruined ‘bot floating back into the Epirian ship. Gweid flinched again as it crossed the barrier into artificial gravity and crashed to the floor.

  “Naygard?” Captain Wei inquired, not looking away from the cargo lock and Epirian ship’s empty hold.

  “Still awake, Captain.” Naygard’s voice was a stage whisper. “EMP harpoon still ready.”

  Gweid heard a measured thumping, metal stepping on the ceramic deck, coming from the Epirian ship. He peered through the cargo lock just as the scarecrow ‘bot rounded the corner into the cargo lock, its tall, narrow frame nearly reaching from floor to ceiling. The rail rifle fired a hypersonic round that narrowly missed Naygard, who ducked well after the slug passed him.

  “Naygard! Now!” Captain Wei shouted, and Naygard grunted as he braced for the harpoon’s recoil. The harpoon itself was a low-velocity shot, giving the thermal lance on the tip time to heat before it reached its target. Trailing a large-gauge power cable, the harpoon struck the scarecrow square in the sternum, the tip piercing its chestplate. The warhead of the harpoon, directly behind the thermal lance, was triggered by the impact. Releasing the power from the dozens of powerful capacitors on the weapon, it loosed a fearsome, contained electromagnetic storm along with an ultrasonic burst. Together, these two effects fried even the scarecrow’s shielded electronic circuits as well as shattering its optical computing components.

  The scarecrow fired a random rail rifle shot, puncturing a stanchion, and started drifting as its servomotors stopped
receiving instructions. Naygard coughed wetly and started the process to spool in the harpoon. Gweid, having been frozen for the short duration of the firefight, now aimed the dolphin at the cargo lock with a stiff, trembling arm, the telltale sonic whine telling of its activation. The wrecked scarecrow floated in the middle of the cargo lock, blocking much of the view.

  Captain Wei was peering from around his corner when he drew a sharp breath, his eyes drawn to the now-floating wreck of the spider drone. “They have cut their gravity! They are not done yet.”

  A large, metallic snake, its small thrusters aiding its undulations, slithered past the remains of the scarecrow into the cargo lock. More than two meters long and 30 centimeters in diameter, it had a quasi-realistic head and small open panels along its length. Ubue fired another burst from her shotgun, which made the gleaming snake jerk and start. The snake made a loud hiss, a sibilant counterpoint to the now silent shotgun. The wall behind Naygard grew a sudden thick coat of two inch needles, and Gweid realized that Naygard, still reeling in the harpoon, hadn’t slowed the flechettes much at all. A cloud of blood now surrounded Naygard, his heart pumping blood out of thousands of tiny holes as into now leaky veins, arteries and capillaries.

  Gweid tried to focus the dolphin’s sonic attack on the snake, but Orich grabbed him and pulled him behind the stanchion. Flechettes bounced and pinged off the stanchion as the snake fired again. Orich saw Ubue and Captain Wei ducking for cover, the captain firing his Dominator blindly. Another loud hiss and the captain dropped the Dominator, blood streaming from his ruined arm. Several stray flechettes struck Gweid and Orich, but had glanced off of other surfaces and didn’t penetrate their pressure suits.

  The snake ’bot moved into the Hagfish’s cargo hold. It turned suddenly as the aft pressure lock opened and a bear of a man, arms spread, leapt towards the snake ‘bot. Clad in thick layered leather, ceramic and steel plates, brutally heavy boots and an encompassing industrial welding helmet, the figure carried a hull riveter in one hand. The giant grew a thick coat of flechettes across his head and torso as the snake hissed again, but no blood flowed, no limbs went limp.

  “Markett!” a voice called. Gweid didn’t know who said it. All he could hear was the relief in the voice.

  Markett reached the snake ’bot and grabbed it with his massive left hand, the thick glove giving him a good grip. Momentum propelled both into the fore wall of the cargo hold, and Markett’s right hand brought the guide tube of the ship’s hull riveter up against the snake ‘bot’s now immobile body. A trigger pull turned the guide tube white hot as Markett slid it into the side of the snake ‘bot. The guide tube was meant to create the initial hole in starship plating that the rivet would fill, and the snake ‘bot’s armor offered little protection.

  Then the rivet fired.

  Designed to rivet two external hull plates together on a ship, the rivet sheared the snake ’bot cleanly in half and left a 20-centimeter rivet in the bulkhead. The snake ‘bot’s forward half, held in Markett’s grip, went dead. The rear half hissed again, invisible needles leaving a Markett-shaped shadow on the aft bulkhead as the flechette stream fired blindly. Markett released the front half and fumbled for the squirming back half, his needle-coated glove making a grip difficult. Finally pinning the tail against the bulkhead, he hit it with another massive rivet. The snake ‘bot went silent.

  Gweid peered out from behind his bulkhead, and saw Captain Wei tucked behind a cargo crate, applying a med-patch to his arm. Naygard’s blood cloud obscured Gweid’s view of Ubue, but he saw Markett kick off towards the cargo lock. The sounds of creaking metal, the captain’s coughing and a hissing from a pipe the scarecrow had nicked with its dying shot were all that could be heard.

  “Looks clear,” Markett boomed, peering around the wreckage of the scarecrow.

  “Shear off the clingfire pod,” ordered Captain Wei. “And haul the scarecrow into the cargo bay.”

  Gweid looked at Orich with a question in his eyes.

  “Salvage,” was all Orich said.

  Markett brushed the worst of the flechette fur off of his gloves, gripped the rivet gun, and with two shots severed the scarecrow’s upper arm. He released the rivet gun, which drifted gently on a tether, and pulled the remainder of the scarecrow wreck towards Naygard’s corpse.

  “Ubue, my pistol.” Captain Wei gestured towards the floating Dominator, and Ubue kicked off to retrieve it. “Orich…” The captain nodded towards the floating clingfire sprayer that Markett had separated from the scarecrow. “Into their hold.” Gweid saw the captain wince.

  Orich carefully floated to the clingfire sprayer, gathering it up as he made his way to the entrance of the cargo lock. With a very slow push, he guided the sprayer towards the Epirian cargo hold. Once it was in motion, he quickly pushed off towards the cover where Gweid was sheltering.

  “Prepare to seal the outer cargo lock hatch and iris, Markett,” called Captain Wei, his voice raspy. Ubue, having retrieved the Dominator, steadied the pistol with both hands.

  Markett took a few moments to respond, having to doff his massive gloves to be able to operate the controls. “Ready Captain!” It was almost a growl.

  Ubue fired in a slow, controlled manner. The pistol was remarkably quiet for its size, the nearly silent magnets overwhelmed by the thumb-sized slugs cracking the sound barrier. The first few rounds impacted the clingfire canister, weakening the high-pressure container. Finally, the canister ruptured under the stress, clingfire spraying outwards in dancing zero-gravity ribbons that burst into nearly unquenchable flames as it came in contact with air.

  “Close it!” yelled Captain Wei. From beyond the closing cargo lock, Gweid heard a shaking voice call out, “Shit! Shit! Shit! Gravity now! NOW! SHIT!”

  The cargo lock thunked shut, the heavy lock bolts being more felt than heard as they secured the outer door. The inner iris’ sound of metal sliding across metal was unpleasantly reminiscent of the flechette streams from the snake ‘bot. Gweid looked to Orich.

  “Come help with Captain Wei,” said Orich.

  There was a shudder throughout the ship. “Epirian vessel has broken connection and is accelerating away,” Effron reported on the overheads. “They’re juking quite a bit. I think they’re worried about our fusion drive”. The Epirians were right to worry. The exhaust from the fusion drive could be focused to act as a 10 kilometer-long plasma blade.

  Gweid looked at Orich, brow furrowed. “We’re going to burn them?”

  “Not our style. Besides, that would guarantee more pursuit,” Orich sniffed. Gweid thought he looked offended.

  Captain Wei directed the post-battle recovery while being treated in the cargo lock. Naygar’s blood cloud had been jostled by the undocking of the Epirian ship, but still loomed as a grim reminder of the price they had just paid. Gweid felt sweat on his skin, and nausea distracted him as he worked to help stabilize the captain. However, he did not hesitate to pick shards of metal from the wound, pulling ruined flesh with each formerly red-hot shard of metal and ceramic.

  “We’ll need to get the fluid vac shortly,” Orich said, nodding towards Naygar.

  Markett joined Gweid in tending Captain Wei’s arm, now wrapped in a plastic sealant. “You’re going to get a robot arm, captain. I’m jealous,” Markett half-joked, his chuckle deep in his chest like the purr of a great cat.

  “Just make sure you anesthetize it before you remove it. If it itches when you take it, I will never be able to scratch it,” the captain joked back. His mouth smiled, but his eyes were fixed as if looking elsewhere.

  *

  The Hagfish powered towards the cybel gate at a steady one gravity acceleration. Captain Wei’s right arm was bandaged and sealed in a polymer casing, the nerve endings at the amputation site being stimulated and tissue fed to ensure that it would be ready to accept a prosthesis when one could be found. The entire crew, excepting Effron, was gathered around their stolen cargo. Markett had removed one of the canisters from its casing, and Gweid wat
ched in fascination as Markett ran scans on it with a number of instruments.

  “Gweid, ready the dolphin please,” Markett asked as he set the canister in a cradle he’d rigged up on a makeshift workbench. Gweid hadn’t done anything particularly useful with the dolphin during the battle, but the crew encouraged him to keep using the device. He was still shaken up, and found the dolphin soothing in a way that Orich, for all his trying, couldn’t match.

  Markett finished setting the canister the way he wanted. “Make sure the dolphin is set to scan, then run a shallow scan of the canister please.”

  Gweid double-checked the dials on the wand, carefully pointed it at the canister, and pulled the trigger. Mostly the dolphin was silent, but sometimes slid from ultrasonic into the human range of hearing. After a few seconds, an LED flashed, indicating that the scan was finished. Markett showed Gweid how to interpret the readout that the wand projected, not that Gweid understood much of it.

  Orich watched over Markett’s shoulder as he continued testing with other instruments, making notes of what he saw. Finally, he turned to the group. “It’s organic, prokaryotic, and kind of sludgy. Other than that, I can’t tell you much for sure.”

  “Orich?” Captain Wei asked.

  “Seems to be an anaerobic bacteria of some sort. The sonar revealed a more solid substrate, most likely a culture for the bacteria. Doubt that it’s going to last all that long.”

  “What’s it do?” Gweid found himself asking.

  “We have no way of finding out, and we are not going to try,” Captain Wei stared at the canister. “At Ananzim’s, there are people who can.”

  Markett carefully took the canister and packed it in its original container as the rest of the crew walked back to the central access ladder. Gweid was careful to not look Ubue in the face. She’d been short-tempered since the firefight, and her glare was worse than a tongue lashing.

  “Orich, what do you think it does?” Gweid asked, pausing to look back at Markett.