Maauro stood next to me, staring at the screen as if she could command answers from it. She was like a hunting dog suspecting a fox was in a nearby cover.
Jaelle unbelted from her jump seat and brought out the restoratives. The jump had been relatively easy, with none of the usual nausea. We popped pills and drank the lemony fluid of restorative packs.
I noted how Jaelle barely looked at Maauro. Relations between her and the android remained frosty since we’d launched on this crazy hunt. The frost had also affected our relationship, as I was content to follow Maauro and Jaelle felt that was a betrayal. I guess I was glad my only competition for her affections was Dusko, though if this kept up much longer I might end up playing second fiddle to even him.
“Thanks,” I ventured.
She only nodded and I sighed inside.
“Four hours until we see if there is anything here,” I added.
“I’ll go check on Dusko,” Jaelle said. “I’ll be back when we get closer.”
After Jaelle disappeared down the companionway, Maauro turned to me. “I am sorry that I have alienated your lover. I fear I am the cause of the dissension between you.”
“You are,” I responded. “Even I don’t think this is a good idea, but I owe you my life and I have more confidence in you than she does. To her, all you’ve done is rip out all she was building for us as a trading vessel and now what are we?”
“Adventurers on a quest?” she responded.
“Adventurers are usually after a treasure. We’re chasing ghosts.”
“Perhaps we shall see some soon.”
For lack of anything else to do, I reclined my flight seat and dropped off. I’d been up late trying to talk to Jaelle. I felt like I’d only been out a few minutes when Maauro shook me by the shoulder. I groaned and sat up.
“At least one ghost has materialized,” Maauro said. She pointed at the screen; on it was a blue gas giant. The screen automatically focused on an artificial object, low in the atmosphere.
“It’s a station all right,” I said. “Looks like a converted gas-miner, made for working in high atmosphere. It’s showing power and nav lights.”
“Those could be automatic,” Jaelle’s voice came. She’d entered unobserved.
“Could be,” I said.
Maauro extended a filament finger into the computer. I always hated that, but she could, between her own systems and the ship’s, assemble more and better data then we could.
“No radio transmission, power utilization seems low for such a large system,” she said. “The orbit seems to have decayed. I calculate that the station will enter the atmosphere and burn up in 37 standard days.”
“Something is very wrong on that station,” Jaelle said.
“Yes,” Maauro said. “An investigation is indicated.”
“Why,” Jaelle demanded. “Why take such a risk?”
“We have been stalked by a machine that showed the influence of Infestor tech. As I have warned you before, the Infestors are a terrible danger. Anything that derives from them will also be a danger to your people.”
“So you say,” Jaelle responded, “but you were created to destroy Infestors without question. Forgive me if I do not feel that you are the most objective source.”
“The machine was stalking the ship,” I said.
“It was stalking her,” Jaelle said. “It was not necessarily hostile to us.”
Maauro gave no sign of irritation or anger at being questioned. “I am your only source on Infestors, but if you disregard me, then there is no point in my assuring you that there was a danger. On that station may be the answers you demand. If nothing else, if the station is derelict, there should be much worth salvaging.”
Did a mercenary gleam appear in Jaelle’s eyes? I hoped so.
“Assuming,” she said. “We do not get blasted on approach.”
“I will detect any attempt at weapon lock and break it. If we are fired on I will recalculate our chances of obtaining useful intel.”
“Very well, we may gain something from this wild yarzel chase, after all.”
But nothing fired on us or even tracked us as we closed on the large-disk shaped station. Nor were we hailed by anything.
I turned Stardust end for end and lined us up for a landing. Normally, this would be handled by the stations automatic landing system, but the ALS would not respond. I nursed the thrusters, killing our sink rate a meter at a time. Our landing jacks touched down without a jar.
“Excellent, Wrik,” Maauro said. “You have a deft touch.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Jaelle said, smiling.
I was intensely relieved that Jaelle was inclined to joke. Perhaps it was only because our destination was in sight, but she seemed to be with us again. “Ladies we have arrived.”
“I’m no lady, I’m an android.” Maauro replied.
As usual with her attempts at humor, I wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not.
“So what do we do now?” Jaelle asked.
Maauro and I looked out at the silent station. “I am loathe to split our forces. I can encrypt the ship controls beyond where anyone can steal it. Still, I do not like the thought of leaving Dusko unsupervised with me off the ship. Nor do I wish to expose Jaelle to danger.”
“And I don’t propose to stay behind and watch him,” Jaelle said. “I haven’t been dragged this far across space not to see the reason why.”
“That decides it then,” I said. “We go together.” I looked at the giant blue world blocking the sky and felt a sense of crushing dread.
“Dusko,” I said, flicking on the intercom. “Meet us at the armory.”
“You’re going to give him a weapon?” Jaelle asked in surprise.
“A stunner,” I replied, climbing out of my pilot’s chair. “It won’t work on Maauro and he won’t dare use it against us. We may need every gun.”
We trooped down from the bridge to the tiny armory. Dusko must have divined our purpose. He stood dressed in coveralls and a ship’s tactical jacket with its armored panels. “I don’t suppose I can talk you into leaving me behind?”
“No,” I replied, pressing my hand against the palm plate of the biometric panel. It opened onto the small room. I went in and handed out weapons, including Maauro’s armspac, which took me two hands to lift.
Jaelle indicated her usual slugthrower. “Give me two boxes of anti-personnel shot,” she said. “Don’t want to risk depressurizing a compartment.”
“Sound thinking,” Maauro said, tinkering with her armspac. “I will confine myself to low-velocity rounds and close combat.”
“Hopefully there’ll be no need for any of it,” Jaelle added.
“Hopefully,” everyone else repeated. There was a brief laugh.
I chose a laser for myself and then passed out survival tools, a combination of machete and prybar. Maauro turned down hers, flicking out a palm blade to remind me of her built-ins. I handed Dusko a stunner and reloads for it. He grimaced and belted on the weapon without comment.
Jaelle disappeared to return with tactical vests and first-aid kits for all of us. I dealt out helmets with built-in lights. We were ready.
Maauro stood ahead of us as we synched up the ship’s airlock with the station’s. I opened the inner hatch.
“Remain here until I secure the other side,” Maauro ordered, assuming command as she usually did when danger threatened.
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Dusko said.
I closed the inner hatch, depressurized as I checked my circuit to Maauro then opened the outer hatch.
“I see the boarding tube on the other side,” she relayed. “I will secure it and pressurize from the station side.” I heard banging and clunking as she worked. “Station side secured; the tube is holding pressure. I am cracking the inner hatch now. The immediat
e area is empty and secure. No sign of personnel, though there is debris strewn everywhere. Atmosphere according to my onboard sensors is within normal limits, no toxins or CBO indicated.
“Okay, Maauro. We are coming in behind you.”
I opened the inner hatch and we all three squeezed in.
As the outer lock opened, a smell almost forcibly intruded into our small space.
Dusko gagged and Jaelle put a hand over her nose. “Gods!”
I was glad to have the least sensitive nose of the three. The station air smelled of rot, water, and decay, with hints of burning hair and wire.
Maauro looked back at us from the far end of the boarding tube in alarm. “What is wrong?”
“You may be right about the lack of toxins and germs,” Jaelle called. “But you could have warned us about the stink.”
“Ah,” Maauro said, “when we return, I must better calibrate my senses for offensive smells.”
“Remember this and you’ll have most of them listed. Wait here.” Jaelle returned to the ship and came back with small rebreathers that we gratefully slipped over our faces. We joined Maauro on the station side, flicking on our helmet lights. There seemed to be no lights operating in the concourse behind the airlocks.
I sealed the hatch behind us. “It will only open for one of us three,” I told Dusko.
“Then I will make certain one of you survives this adventure.”
“So far all we’ve been threatened by is smells,” Jaelle said.
I shook my head. “That means disaster on a spacecraft. Something has gone wrong with environmental control, and it hasn’t been fixed.”
“Follow me,” Maauro said. “Dusko, bring up the rear.”
We followed. Maauro’s gray and orange jumpsuit and ever-present yellow hair bow looked incongruous with her monster gun. She stalked ahead of us as we penetrated the darkened station.
“Quit watching her butt,” Jaelle stage-whispered.
Tension cracked almost audibly in our little group. Dusko snorted, and I choked down a laugh that threatened to come out as hysterical. Maauro ignored it, doubtless classing it as more biologically-inspired nonsense. She leaned out into a radial corridor.
“There is light to the left,” she reported. “None to the right, though I see debris and the fire door is down. It may be decompressed down that way.
“To the left then,” I said.
We passed several doorways. I looked into the glass panel in each door as we passed. Two were storerooms full of supplies. The next was a machine shop. At the fourth I stopped everyone. “Look in here!”
The others hurried over. Inside we could see a body stretched on the floor, or rather the remains of one. It looked like it had been torn apart.
“Back away from the door. I will slip in and examine it.” Maauro worked the mechanism and the door released. She quickly slipped inside but not fast enough to prevent some of the wretched rotten meat smell from escaping. Even the filter mask couldn’t entirely dispel it.
Maauro made a quick and clinical study of the corpse, using gloves she extruded from inside her body then disposed of. She returned to us. “The body is that of a Dua-Denlenn female. It was killed and partially consumed by something with powerful teeth and claws.”
We all peered into the darkness, clutching our weapons.
The next compartment only added to the mystery. It held three desiccated corpses.
“The compartment is not holed, nor does it connect to the outer hull. Someone deliberately depressurized it with these three inside,” Maauro said.
“Looks to me like they did it themselves,” I observed. “Look at that open panel there. Those are environmental controls.”
“Suicide?” Jaelle asked.
Maauro looked at me. “Why would biologicals seek self-termination?”
“Maybe to avoid something worse,” I said.
We reached the lighted area, finding a curious mix of debris, ration boxes, blankets, and clothes scattered everywhere.
“It’s like a big sloppy campsite,” Jaelle said.
“Inward,” Maauro suggested, gesturing to a partially lit corridor.
“Yes,” I answered. “There should be a small flight operations center for using the thrusters to maintain orbit around the gas giant. It’s the best spot to find people or operating computers.”
We cut through the lit corridor at one point, splashing through ankle-deep water.
“I’ve never seen a station in such shape,” Dusko said. “What the hell happened?”
“And where is everyone?” I added. “A station this size could have several hundred aboard. We’ve seen four bodies.”
“Let us find a live body we can ask. Or a computer that functions,” Maauro said.
I snapped my fingers. “Of course, the station’s AI—”
“Is not functioning,” Maauro interrupted. “I attempted infiltration as soon as we landed. The AI is defunct. All systems are operating on their own, and most are on their last set of backups.”
“Oh,” I said, deflated. “I should have figured.”
Maauro gave me one of her small smiles. “Stick to the biological, Wrik. I will handle the silicon.”
We found a working computer. Maauro looked at it with satisfaction and extended her finger fibers.
“Remember, the skimmer trap,” I warned.
“Yes, Wrik, I do. I will not permit myself to be overconfident again. All my safeguards are in place.” The filaments infiltrated the machine.
A sudden change came over Maauro. For a second I feared she’d fallen victim to a trap anyway. But now she stood stone-faced, yet almost crackling with energy.
“What is it?” I said.
“What’s wrong?” Jaelle added.
“Someone,” Maauro said, in the flat voice that indicated anger, “has been engaged in an ill-advised resurrection. This station is an illegal lab. Someone has been using organic material from an Infestor corpse, most probably the one that was found in the Tar Sea by the Murch and taken by the Guild, to resurrect Infestors.”
“No,” I said.
A moaning growl sounded behind us. We spun, Maauro pulling free of the computer. We heard a scream of fear and one of agony. We raced down the hallway, Maauro shouldering me aside to get to the front. We turned the corridor to a scene of horror. A woman, alive, but with her face bloodied, lay where she’d evidently been flung. Another woman, or what was left of her, lay under a huge bear-like shape, an Okaran.
The Okaran roared and reared, glaring at us, no trace of sentience in its eyes. Even Dusko fell back with a curse, but not Maauro, who flung herself into the air at the Okaran, slinging her armspac in one fluid move that freed her arms.
Before I could shout, aim, or do anything to aid her, she plunged into the huge alien’s embrace. But the bear-hug proved instantly fatal to the Okaran. With a sound like a rifle shot, she crushed its spine, slammed the arms off her, grabbed the creature by its skull and muzzle, and twisted. Again came the dreadful snap and the five-hundred pound alien slid to the floor.
Maauro turned to the downed woman instantly while the rest of us shook off the sudden violence and terror.
“Do not be afraid,” she said. “We will help you.”
The woman did not react, merely stared with dull, vacant eyes.
“What the Hell happened here?” Jaelle demanded. “That Okaran’s gone feral. It was eating that other woman, for God’s sake.”
“No reason for that,” Dusko said, sounding shaken for once. “The food servers seem to be operating.”
“That wasn’t hunger,” I said. “It had to be madness.”
Jaelle and I hurried over to the survivor. Again, we were grateful for the rebreathers. Even through them, she stank.
“The blood on her is not her own,” Maauro said. “It must
have splashed on her when the other female was being destroyed.”
“She must be in shock,” I said, trying to control my distaste. What was left of the woman’s lab uniform was filthy and torn.
Jaelle looked up at Maauro. “There’s a shower and refresher unit in the back of this lab. Could you take her in there and clean her up? It may make it easier to get sense out of her.”
“Yes,” Maauro said. She easily lifted the woman, who now began to moan and thrash. The android held her easily and walked back to the lab and into the refresher. The unit still had water and ultrasonics. We all watched the hallways leading to the labs with renewed vigilance. Though we heard sounds and saw shadows move in the distance, nothing came toward us.
“Maybe I should help Maauro,” Jaelle said, after a few minutes.
I nodded. “She’ll get her cleaned up. But opened up? You’ll do better.”
Jaelle slung her weapon and went to follow Maauro. After ten minutes, the three returned. Maauro, who somehow looked as dry as if she had never been in the water, Jaelle and something that looked a little more like a human being. The woman now wore a soft laboratory overall with padded boots. Her hair had been chopped short, I presumed by Maauro, and to the extent I could now smell her at all, it was the scent of soap and disinfectant. Her face shone from what had doubtless been a rough scrubbing by Maauro.
“Who is she?” I asked.
Jaelle shrugged. “I haven’t gotten her to talk yet, but she is at least tracking things with her eyes. There was a name tag on what was left of her lab coat, Bavara Voght. I gave her some e-rations from my kit and some water. Maauro has a download on her from that operable computer we found.”
“Do you know what’s wrong with her?” I asked Maauro.
Maauro turned to me, her face expressionless, a sure sign she was upset. “Yes. There are psychometric and biochemical traces in her body that indicate she has been heavily exposed to Infestor telepathic influence. Wrik, you and the others must stay as close to me as you can.”
Jaelle and I exchanged worried looks. Dusko turned from his examination of the Guild records.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I generate a field that blocks Infestor influence merely by my operating. It is one of my base-line functions. The mindlessness of this one and all that we have seen, leads me to believe an Infestor is operating here, though I cannot sense it in any of the usual ways.”
My Outcast State (The Maauro Chronicles Book 1) Page 20
