Ricket hurried off to do whatever he needed to do, leaving the two standing in front of each other.
“Did you know this ship has a small medical cubicle?”
“No … haven’t been inside her yet.”
“Well, come on; let me show you.” She turned and moved back inside and made a quick left turn. Jason followed. Immediately he was taken aback at the ship’s heightened level of technology. Plush, high-back seats lined the port side of the ship, with an aisle running along the center. Various compartments and storage lockers were off to the right. The interior was bright and expansive due to the surrounding four-foot-tall observation glass panels.
Jason took two quick strides to catch up. His eyes traveled her long slim body and lingered on what he had determined—over many months—was the most perfect derriere he’d ever had the pleasure to witness. With a quick glance over her shoulder, Dira caught him leering and didn’t look particularly pleased. Smooth move, Jason.
“This is really a miraculous little ship, Captain,” Dira said.
So now I’m Captain? Jason watched as she quickened her stride away from him and made another abrupt turn—this time to the right. Jason slowed and saw a small, illuminated MEDICAL sign before him. Two outstretched hands grabbed him and pulled him into the semi-enclosed cubicle. Dira put her hand at the back of his head, while her other hand clutched tightly on his spacer’s jumpsuit. She brought his face in close. Their lips met and he felt the tip of her tongue flitter and tease. Oh God, he wanted her. They kissed, their breaths quickened, and their passion grew. His hands moved over her gentle curves—he’d only just begun to explore the mysteries of her body. Jason’s eyes locked on hers—those amazing violet-amber eyes. Dira’s long lashes touched his cheeks. He melted into her and her into him and his arms encircled her—pulled her in closer. Voices … several people were approaching. Dira laughed and pushed him away—hard. He lost his balance and fell backward onto a padded gurney. When he looked up Dira was gone and Billy was looking down at him.
“Not feeling well, Cap?”
Chapter 32
Several last-minute crew additions were made to the roster. Lieutenant Grimes, top gun fighter pilot, sat at the controls and with ample available seats, two more SEALs joined Billy. The rest of the assault team sat toward the back of the ship. Jason rode shotgun and watched Grimes familiarize herself with the cockpit.
Ricket stood in the aisle at Grimes’ shoulder and continued to point out particulars.
“It does seem pretty similar to how the Epcot’s cockpit is laid out. Okay, let’s see if I’ve got it.” Grimes brought up the holo-display and, one at a time, initiated the multiple semitransparent layers: “Nav controls here … tactical weaponry here … phase-shift functionality is here … and wait … what’s this, Ricket?”
“I have not had sufficient time to examine the true nature of that command layer. I believe, and this is purely a guess, it has something to do with accessing the multiverse. On the underside of the inner hull, running the entire length of the ship, are devices that have similar properties to what we call the zip farm on the Minian. As I said, I’ll need more time to investigate that aspect. Leave it for now.”
“I think she’s got it, Ricket. You can open the portal,” Jason instructed.
Ricket stepped behind them and a moment later was seen at the front of the ship. At the access panel, he entered the long sequence and as soon as the portal window opened, he hurried back inside. Grimes made several more adjustments to the controls and then looked over to Jason.
“Let’s go.”
She pulled back on the controls and the Streamline rose several inches off the Zoo’s deck. The holo-display changed orientation, providing a top-down view of the ship as it hovered within the confined space along the Zoo corridor. With practiced finesse, Grimes edged the ship forward, missing the right edge of the portal by no more than an inch. The ship’s stern crossed over into the portal window of HAB 76—missing that edge by inches, as well. Slowly, the ship maneuvered to where it was perpendicular to the corridor. Grimes goosed the ship’s dual drives, one mid-ship and one at the stern, forward.
Jason leaned back, craning his neck to look straight up, and saw nothing but blue skies. No sign of any flying Serapins. Relieved, he relaxed and sat back in his seat.
Grimes let the ship completely clear the portal, then set her down on the ground. Five men, armed with multi-guns, took up defensive perimeter positions around the pole that had the access panel mounted on it. Ricket went over to it and again entered the long sequence of Caldurian alphanumeric digits. It’s crazy only one person has this code. Jason contacted Ricket via their NanoCom.
“Don’t you think I should have that code, Ricket? What if something happens to you?”
Jason saw Ricket turn his attention away from what he was doing and look back to the front window of the Streamline. “Captain, this same code is also available to you anytime. As captain of the ship, it’s already integrated into your nano-device’s accessible memory. You simply haven’t tried to remember it.”
As Ricket finished up, Jason searched his memory. From past experience, accessing information from his nano-devices was somewhat different than simply remembering things or events from his past. There was a structure to it—not unlike how one accessed files on a computer hard drive—although a far more intuitive and automatic kind of process. And there it was: the digits appeared right before his eyes. More like symbols, the Caldurian alphanumeric characters progressively sped by, faster and faster, hundreds of them. “Huh, I guess I do already know the code.”
“Cap?” Grimes asked.
“Nothing, just talking to myself.”
Ricket hurried back from the access panel. The assault team quickly followed behind him—three of the men kept their weapons high, walking backwards into the ship.
“All are on board, Cap,” Grimes reported.
“Head on out. Keep an eye out for anything that flies.”
“Aye, sir.” She brought the ship straight up vertically several hundred feet before accelerating forward. They headed roughly along the same route Jason and his team had navigated the previous year. Below, the desert-like terrain gradually morphed from sandy dunes into a more rocky landscape, and then there were towering cliffs, jutting high into the sky, at their left. Deep within one of those rock faces were the enshrined remains of fallen SEALs and rhino-warriors. Jason silently acknowledged each one—acknowledged their ultimate sacrifice.
“Aerial movement, Captain,” Grimes said, pointing straight ahead.
Jason leaned forward in his seat. “Yeah, that’s a feeding drone. No worries … they lumber along harmlessly.”
Several miles ahead a volcanic river, snake-like, wound back and forth until it disappeared into the distant horizon. Encroaching on the scene below, beneath plumes of steam and smoke, Jason could see patches of bright red lava slowly moving deep within jagged crevices.
Rocky terrain below turned into lush green meadows. Gently rolling hills continued mile after mile until a distant line of trees grew in stature before them.
A small purple rectangular-shaped icon flashed on Grimes’ nav holo-display. “We’re closing in on the portal, Cap.”
Grimes brought the ship down, about a mile in from the tree line, into an area far more sparse that led up to a steep sloping ridge. The cave entrance was fifty yards in front of them.
Jason marveled how quickly they’d made it here, considering it took seven long days for their previous mission on foot.
Billy crouched down between Jason and Grimes. “Oh yeah. The cave with the bugs.”
“The very same,” Jason replied.
Grimes turned all the way around and looked at Billy. “What do you mean bugs?”
He shrugged. “Bugs … like seven feet long and three or four feet tall. Like cockroaches.”
Jason nodded but kept quiet.
“This is one of your jokes. Oh, right. You do this … always the kidde
r.” She was smiling until she glanced toward Jason and saw him stone-faced serious. “Oh God … Really?”
Both Jason and Billy nodded.
“That tunnel is way too tight for this ship, Cap,” Billy said.
“Not going in that way. We’ll need to phase-shift to where the tunnel opens up into a cavern. Lieutenant, can you bring up a cross section of that ridge on the holo-display? Show us at least a mile deep inside.”
It took several moments for Grimes to get things situated before the display showed a three-dimensional representation, a cross-section of the ridge-line before them, and of the below ground level terrain.
“There you go, perfect,” Jason said. He gestured toward a hollow gap that traversed deep into the hillside. “This is the cave … it veers to the right here, and the area here is the cavern I was referring to. Plenty of room to phase-shift into and get the Streamline adequately positioned to exit the portal, which is here, along this back wall.”
“You should sit down, Billy,” Grimes said.
She brought up the phase-shift layer on the holo-display and locked on to the cavern area they’d pinpointed.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
Everything flashed white first and then there was nothing but darkness beyond the outer hull. Grimes found the On setting for the outside running lights and then for the forward spot light. The cavern came alive with movement. From wall to ceiling, familiar, beastly-looking cockroaches scurried around—more than a few climbed over each other in a rush to get away from the powerful illumination.
Grimes’s jaw dropped. She sat motionless, transfixed.
“You okay?”
“That’s just about the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. To think I volunteered for this mission.”
“You’ll need to reposition the ship.”
“I see it, Captain.” Grimes ever so slowly brought the long ship forward and several degrees to port. She brought the ship down until it settled onto the floor of the cavern. A distinctive crackle and crunch emanated behind them. Grimes looked sideways. “I may have landed on a few of those things.”
“Uh huh. Try not to lose too much sleep over it.” Jason got to his feet. “Time to get out there and open the portal.”
“Don’t look at me. I’d rather you just shoot me and be done with it.”
That made him chuckle as he left the cockpit. Jason moved down the aisle until he found Gaddy. Jason patted Sergeant Jackson’s shoulder. “How about you give me a moment to talk with Gaddy.”
“Sure thing, Captain.” Jackson got up and let Jason take his seat.
Gaddy was dressed in a battle suit with her helmet retracted. “Hello, Captain. I see we’re ready to enter onto Halimar.”
“We’re here. I need to talk to you about what will happen next. We talked earlier about the possibility of you reconnecting with your dissident friends.”
“I told you, most of them died in HAB 12.”
“So who’s left?”
Gaddy nodded her head. “There’s Zay. Zay-Lee. He was supposed to come with us into HAB 12 but got arrested. If he’s been released, freed, he’d definitely help me.”
“Would he have access to the kind of information we’re looking for?”
“What Zay doesn’t know, he can find out. He’s a coder, a hacker. Lives and breathes anything and everything subversive.”
“Good. That’ll be your first order of business once we arrive on Halimar. I can’t tell you how much we’re counting on you. We’re entering a hostile world, and without friends we won’t get far.”
“I understand, Captain. First thing I’ll need is a pocket com.”
Jason shook his head, not understanding.
“That’s what we call our version of a cellphone. Only ours lets us talk to people on all our worlds.”
Chapter 33
Two were dead. Perhaps they’d suffocated or they’d simply died from fright. Nan didn’t know and she tried to shake the image of their ashen, open-eyed faces from her thoughts. The other six had been successfully extricated from their cocoons and were now sitting on the sectional couch, back in the truck bed. Seemingly fine.
Nan and Mollie sat next to Gus in the cab. At first light, Reese was tasked with doing an inspection of the truck. Without a heavy layer of grease covering the truck’s exposed metal and tires, the molt weevils would have no trouble climbing on board. She pushed that image from her thoughts too.
Gus brought the truck’s speed up to forty mph while they continued down the last of the Broadmoor’s fairways.
“Trees!” Mollie pointed at the windshield.
“I see them … I see them. There’s not a lot I can do about that … to get off the golf course we’ll need to pass under a few trees. Why don’t you use that walkie and give Reese a heads up?”
Prior to getting behind the wheel, Gus had handed out six new, still in their manufacturer’s cartons, walkie-talkies. It wasn’t long before Mollie was banned from using hers. She’d driven everyone crazy with constant annoying chatter and talking like a big-rig trucker on a CB radio.
Nan pressed the talk button and said, “Reese, we’re coming up on some trees. Heads up for any uninvited guests.”
“I’m right above you on the overhang. Anything even twitches above me is going to get a load of buckshot in its ass.”
Mollie leaned in and spoke in a country-twang: “That’s a big ten-four, good buddy.”
Nan pulled the radio away from her and rolled her eyes.
Gus brought the big 797F down to twenty, then ten miles per hour. They’d reached the trees that marked the end of the golf course and paralleled the two-lane road on the other side. Instinctively, all three looked up as they passed beneath several tall oaks. Sure enough, a black, multi-legged molt weevil dropped from high above. Both barrels of Reese’s shotgun boomed close by and caught the creature mid-flight, propelling it forward, beyond the front of the truck.
Gus eased the truck over the curb and turned left. “This is going to be a bit tight.”
“What are you doing? You’re going to hit that car, Gus!” Mollie shouted, standing up from Nan’s knee.
“What do you want me to do? It’s not like we can turn around and go the other way.”
Three abandoned cars were pulled over to the right-hand curve, leaving less than adequate room for the huge truck to pass. Gus dropped into lowest gear and let the truck climb over the obstacles one at a time. Each car was nearly flattened under the weight of hundreds of tons of steel. Mollie covered her mouth but soon was laughing hysterically. Nan shook her head but soon laughed too. Gus didn’t see the humor in it, but seemed to be enjoying himself.
“They sure have a surprise waiting for them when they get back to their cars,” Mollie said.
Nan smiled but didn’t think that would be the biggest surprise they’d probably encountered.
“You know where we’re at, Gus?” Nan asked.
“Of course I do. I’ve lived out here all my life. The problem’s going to be what’s up ahead: very rough terrain after this neighborhood ends.” He veered the truck right at a fork in the road, and immediately the truck started to climb.
“I just saw a sign. This is the way to the zoo!” Mollie said excitedly.
“A slight detour,” Gus said.
Nan didn’t want to think about what the molt weevils would do to all those poor animals—most of which wouldn’t be able to run away, escape from their enclosures. Just then a very large orange, white, and black tiger crossed the road directly in front of them. Clenched in its jaws was what remained of a molt weevil’s carcass. So much for the poor defenseless animals, she thought.
It took ten minutes to crest the hill. Nan saw the zoo off to the right, built into the side of the hillside. They drove through the nearly empty parking lot and stopped at the public entrance, with multiple ticket booths and a high metal gate. The gate was ripped off its hinges in some areas, bent and distorted in others. But that wasn’t what Nan, Mollie an
d Gus were interested in, because a twelve-foot-tall African elephant stood right before the truck. The back half of the animal was partially covered in the greenish cocoon material. One of the majestic beast’s tusks had the remnants of a molt weevil dangling from it.
“Its back legs are tied,” Mollie said.
Nan had already noticed, but didn’t want to bring attention to it. “That’s a dangerous animal, Mollie.”
Reese was awkwardly coming down the rope ladder, still holding the barrel of the twelve- gauge grasped in one hand. He jumped down the last three feet onto the metal deck. Nan got up, squeezed by Mollie, and opened the cab’s door. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to help that elephant.” He handed Nan the shotgun. “This is for molt weevils, not the elephant.”
The elephant still hadn’t moved. Reese stopped at the metal stairway leading down to the ground. “Mollie, can you go back into the bed and find a rope?”
Mollie scampered up the ladder and emerged less than a minute later with a coiled rope in her hand. “Will this work?”
“Perfect … toss it down.”
She did as he asked, climbed back down, and joined Nan on the deck. Reese tied one end of the rope around the deck top banister and kept the rest of the rope coiled in his hand. He turned around and walked down the slippery, grease-coated steps backward. He fed out the rope from its coil as he went. He smiled up at Nan. “I’ve had to do this a few times now … Think I’m getting the hang of it.” But his feet slipped out from under him and he landed hard on his backside. “I guess I spoke too soon.” He got to his feet and carefully resumed his backward trek down the steps. Once on solid ground, he fished through his pockets and came out with a pocketknife.
Nan saw movement in her peripheral vision. A handful of molt weevils were at the far side of the parking lot. “Hurry up, Reese,” she said, in as calm a voice as she could muster.
The Great Space (Scrapyard Ship Book 6) Page 17
