by Jerry Aubin
“Wait.” After a few moments of silence the Major continued. “I’ve accessed the inventory records and found one in a different section. I’ve sent you the location and a one-time pass for security.”
Westerick cut their connection. No pleasantries, no small talk, no chit chat. It was the first time Zax had bothered the Major in months, and yet the conversation over their Plugs was markedly less pleasant and cheerful than speaking with a Replicator.
Zax checked the location of the storage locker which Westerick had identified and raised an eyebrow at the realization it was deep in Engineering—a region of the Ship that was adjacent to Waste Systems yet might as well be worlds away. He had studied its schematics in his spare time and knew Engineering was a warren of compartments, some small, some massive, but he had never actually seen any of them firsthand since access was forbidden without the proper security clearance. Clearance he now possessed—at least for this single visit. He grinned at the thought of a trip away from Waste Systems as he turned to face Imair.
“The Major located a replacement for me, but it’s in a high security area of the Ship where civilians aren’t allowed. Should I meet you back here when I return?”
“I’m actually off duty in a few mins, sir. We can deal with this later. Thank you.”
She turned and walked out of the compartment. Zax worried for a moment about the pregnant pause before she had replied. He figured it must still be about the stupid apple so he pushed the thought aside as he walked to the nearest Tube junction and made his way to Engineering.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hello, Zax.
The Tube came to a stop and Zax exited into the very non-welcoming gaze of six fully armed Marines. Well, it was actually more like the gaze of one Marine since the other five were engrossed in an argument among themselves and paid him zero attention.
“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.”
The voice and its sarcastic tone triggered recognition before Zax’s brain could fully recover from the shock of encountering the stern Marine with his pale skin and close-cropped white hair. Zax hadn’t seen Sergeant Bailee since the man told him about the outcome of the final training evaluation for him and Kalare—the eval which cleared Zax for the fateful planetary expedition with the Marines. It seemed like the man still nursed a grudge about Zax bumping into him and spilling his coffee during their first encounter, so Zax was on guard for the beating he was sure would eventually come.
“Huh…hello, Sergeant Bailee. I’ve been cleared by Major Westerick in Waste Systems to access a storage locker in Engineering and retrieve a spare part.”
The Marine closed his eyes for a moment and nodded as he validated Zax’s security clearance via his Plug. “I see that. Well, I guess you’re in for a special surprise then.”
Zax fretted about what the icy glimmer in the Marine’s eyes meant as he followed him through the hatch into Engineering Control. The shock of encountering Sergeant Bailee was exceeded ten-fold when Zax discovered Aleron standing across the compartment and gawping at him. Encountering the cadet who had bullied him interminably was certainly unexpected in this particular compartment, but Zax wasn’t convinced that would be anything Bailee would qualify as a “special surprise.”
“Hello, Zax.”
It had been a year since he last heard it, but Zax recognized when his name was being voiced through teeth clenched around an unlit cigar. His blood went cold. He hadn’t reconnoitered the compartment as he entered and had missed the Flight Boss standing just inside the hatch. The Omega leaned casually against the bulkhead, slate in hand, square head covered as always by his backwards-facing workcap.
“Ummm…huh…huh…hello, s-s-s-sir.”
Zax’s legs had turned to jelly. It took every ounce of willpower to prevent himself from collapsing to the floor. Another familiar voice called out.
“Zax! What are the chances of seeing you here!”
Kalare bounded across the compartment. She grabbed Zax by the arm and addressed the Boss.
“Sir—may I please borrow Zax for a few mins?”
The Flight Boss went back to looking at his slate by way of silent dismissal, and Kalare dragged Zax to an area devoid of workstations at the far side of the compartment. So many overwhelming emotions flooded Zax that his mind might have shut down and attempted to float away out of self-preservation if it wasn’t for the anchoring grasp of Kalare’s hand clenched around his arm.
As Zax attempted to collect his wits, Aleron watched the whole drama unfold from across the compartment with his mouth twisted into a spiteful grin. It finally registered that his long-time tormentor was wearing a red Engineering uniform, and Zax recalled hearing about the boy’s recent reassignment into this section.
“Zax! You’ve got to get it together!” Kalare was close enough that the spittle punctuating her vehement whispers stung his face. “It’s crazy obvious how you’re barely keeping your head straight right now—snap out of it!”
Zax took a few deep breaths. The entire compartment gradually came into sharp focus as he established situational awareness. Numerous Crew were present and appeared to be hard at work, but a few faces stood out. The Chief Engineer was recognizable from her many appearances on newsvids. She finished conversing with a subordinate and walked towards the Flight Boss. Aleron had turned back to his work, but every few moments would look back over his shoulder to check in on what was going on. Bailee stood by the hatch and observed Zax and Kalare with a stony expression.
Zax took one final deep breath. “Thanks, Kalare. I clearly wasn’t prepared to run into this particular mix of people.”
Kalare smiled. “I know. It’s definitely your all-time favorite Crew! What are you doing here?”
“I’ve got to pick up a spare part from an equipment locker in the next compartment.” Zax grimaced. “Of course, it’s through the hatch next to Aleron’s workstation.”
Kalare appraised Aleron and her smile widened a little further. “Don’t worry about him, Zax. That one is definitely not worth getting worked up about.”
“Easy for you to say. Let me go find what I need before I forget the whole reason why I’m here. Then maybe we can chat for a min on my way back out.”
Zax was torn between quizzing Kalare on what she was doing in Engineering and getting as far away from the Boss and Sergeant Bailee as fast as he could. Escape ultimately proved most attractive and Zax hustled towards the next compartment to find the equipment locker. He was so intent on completing his errand that he missed Aleron’s leg shooting into his path and went sprawling into a stack of equipment piled next to the hatch. The clanging racket drew the attention of everyone in the compartment, and the Boss and Chief Engineer laughed out loud at his pratfall.
Humiliation wafted off Zax as thick as the stench of excrement back in Waste Systems. What made it even more unbearable was how Aleron immediately turned and extended a hand to assist him up off the deck. Having successfully doled out his abuse in plain sight, the bully was now trying to look pleasant and helpful in front of the officers.
Zax wanted to slug Aleron but knew immediate retribution would earn him nothing but a heap of demerits with the Boss present to be witness and dole out punishment. He forced himself to instead be satisfied with slapping away the boy’s outstretched hand. Zax rose and was dusting himself off while everyone gawked at him when the hatch from the main passageway opened. Something odd about the Marine guard’s expression as he entered caught Zax’s attention.
The unmistakable crack of a blaster echoed within the compartment. The Marine’s bewildered countenance shifted to one of intense pain as his stomach blossomed into the gory, red mess of an exit wound. Before he could even consider how to react, a haze of light blue gas filled the space and Zax felt his consciousness wane as he slumped back to the deck. His last thoughts were dominated by utter confusion. How the hell could the compartment’s entryway possibly be filled with a group of civilians who carried blasters and wore supplemental breat
hers?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Pretty effective, if I do say so myself.
A slap to his face dragged Zax back to Engineering Control. He was initially overwhelmed by a coppery smell so thick he assumed his nose was bleeding. He opened his eyes and discovered it emanated instead from five dead Marines piled an arm’s length away and surrounded by a pool of congealing blood. Only Sergeant Bailee remained alive from the six who had guarded the entrance to the compartment. The sergeant was bound with his hands behind his back in the same fashion as Zax. The Marine also wore the same type of black device around his neck which Zax could feel had been fastened around his own.
Zax looked around and realized all the other Crew who had been present before the intrusion remained alive and now sat on the deck with their hands bound and identical black devices around their necks. A dozen civilians were arrayed around the compartment with blasters pointed at the Crew and fingers poised on triggers. The only civilian who wasn’t armed with a blaster carried himself like he was the leader and stood off to the side focused on a device in his hand. He was shorter and far skinnier than the rest, with long, greasy black hair that covered his eyes and fell almost to his shoulders.
In addition to the civilians with their weapons, Zax noticed a couple dozen crates had also appeared while he was unconscious. They bore no external markings but seemed to have been intentionally arranged around the compartment.
The giant, brawny civilian whose slap had stirred Zax moved on to deliver the same rude awakening first to Aleron and then to another red-shirted Engineering cadet who were both seated to his left. The last cadet required three slaps before he was finally conscious, each one progressively more harsh. Once the boy finally stirred, the civilian remained next to him and then looked up and nodded his blocky, bald head towards the short man with the device.
The leader brushed his oily bangs out of his eyes, cleared his throat, and spoke as he moved towards the engineering cadet.
“Greetings fine Crew members. It is a distinct pleasure to make your acquaintance. We’re going to be spending quite a bit of time together, so I’ll introduce myself. My name is Rege, and my friends and I have come here for a special visit with the Chief Engineer. You can imagine our great delight to learn that, completely by chance, we’ll get to chat with the Flight Boss as well!
“As brilliant as all of you Crew are, you’ve no doubt noticed how each of you has been fitted with a black collar. Don’t try to remove yours because I guarantee you won’t like what happens if it’s tampered with. The collars are fun devices we’ve been working on for the past few months and had a chance to test out on a few of your fellow Crew who we kidnapped during recent riots. Your collar serves two purposes. First, it disrupts your Plug in such a way as to render it temporarily useless. We’ll shortly have control of all communication channels anyways, but we also wanted to be sure you couldn’t interact with anything around you. Second, it guarantees your complete and undivided attention and cooperation. By way of demonstration, please watch the cadet sitting next to my colleague here.”
Rege gestured at the cadet who was sitting to the left of Aleron—the one who had required three slaps to awaken. When he realized the man was talking about him, the cadet’s eyes went wide with fear. A moment later he appeared to be gripped by excruciating pain as blood streamed out of both nostrils, his face contorted, and his body flailed. He continued to writhe violently for at least ten secs until his head collapsed to his chest and his body went still.
Zax observed the reactions of the others in the silence that followed. Kalare sat with her eyes twisted shut. Aleron looked terrified and was likely thinking it could just as easily have been him sitting there dead. The Chief Engineer appeared to waver between fury and despair. Sergeant Bailee was doing everything he could to kill Rege with nothing available to him but his glare. Only the Flight Boss seemed unmoved. He must have dropped his cigar when he was knocked out by the gas and now sat, mouth empty, stoically staring straight ahead but focused on nothing.
After letting everyone marinate in the cadet’s death for a min, Rege continued.
“Pretty effective, if I do say so myself. The bad news is they have a short range, so that’s why we’ll have to keep most of you bound and jammed in together. The good news is we can choose to hit you with something less than the full blast which I just gave the cadet. Get out of hand a little and we can give you a quick jolt as a reminder about the penalty for non-compliance. Get out of hand a lot and—well—there’s room on the heap for more.”
Rege laughed as the bald civilian casually tossed the cadet’s lifeless body onto the pile of dead Marines. He then looked down at his device before speaking again.
“Everyone sit tight. You’re going to get a full explanation about what is happening. In 3—2—1—”
Klaxons wailed and the lights switched to the pulsing amber which indicated the Captain had changed the Ship to Condition 1. Her face appeared on all of the vidscreens around the compartment.
“This message is being broadcast to everyone on board the Ship—Crew and civilians alike. We are now at our highest alert level, Condition 1. This is not because of an external attack by aliens but rather due to an internal attack by a small number of disaffected civilians. Today’s actions are slightly larger and more coordinated than the recent isolated riots, but they will be put down just as quickly and just as easily.
“The civilian disruptions of the past year have led us to redeploy our Marines so we could be thoroughly prepared for the potential of a wider attack like this one. They have been relocated from their centralized barracks and are now widely dispersed in garrisons throughout the Ship. Fifty thousand Marines in full battle gear are coming on station within the next ninety secs. For my fellow Crew who may be in danger from this civilian disruption—hold tight. The cavalry is on the way. Keep your heads down and before you know it, all of the hostile civilians in your vicinity will be neutralized.”
As the Captain spoke, her image was replaced by video footage of Marines engaged in combat with various aliens. As scary as some of the aliens looked, they paled in comparison to the fearsome appearance of the Marines wearing their combat load. Zax shuddered at the thought of what a pissed off Marine in full battle gear would do once unleashed among a population of civilians. The invisibility offered by their ChamWare would provide freedom of movement throughout the Ship, and their combat armor would easily protect them from the lightweight weapons the civilians possessed. The group who took Engineering hostage overwhelmed five Marines who wore no armor and, frankly, weren’t paying much attention, but they’d be dead within moments of encountering even a single alert Marine in full gear. Zax remained worried about what might happen in the meantime but was relieved to know they would be rescued soon.
Zax gauged the civilians’ reaction to the news of their impending demise. He was shocked to see Rege and a couple others laughing among themselves while they watched the combat footage. He would thoroughly enjoy watching the man die a gruesome death after witnessing how the Engineering cadet had suffered.
The Captain reappeared and started to speak, but her voice cut out even though her lips continued to move. She soon realized her audio wasn’t being broadcast and turned to someone of view. Her image on the vidscreen became wavy and then pixelated before it disappeared and she was replaced by a picture Zax instantly recognized—the cockpit of the human spacecraft he and Mikedo had discovered. It was a screencap which must have been taken from the video Zax had broadcast in Flight Ops back when he confronted the Flight Boss. The human writing and image of Earth were clearly visible. A voice spoke over the image.
“Greetings, fellow humans.”
CHAPTER NINE
We know they are out there somewhere.
“Greetings, fellow humans. I repeat myself because I must emphasize my words are not intended solely for the civilians listening. This is an urgent message which is critical for all of us on the Ship to hear and understand—
not only the ten million civilians but also the one hundred thousand Crew who can hear my voice.
“The image on the screen before you is one which few of you have seen even though many of you have heard rumors about its existence. Today I’m going to share with you its full truth. A truth which will explain why a group of us were compelled to take drastic action over the past year.
“We all learn from an early age the history of our Ship. Earth was near death and sent forth this vessel as its only lifeboat to protect the remnants of humanity. Our Mission was to save our species by seeding the universe with colonies populated by the billion people waiting to be revived from our cryosleep holds. The scientists who sent us into space believed we would spend a hundred years exploring nearby galaxies and eventually find enough new homes that humankind would be guaranteed survival.
“Unfortunately, the universe is a barren and nearly lifeless place. Even though Earth’s astronomers believed there would be millions of Earth-equivalent worlds spread among the stars, we’ve since discovered the planetary conditions necessary to support human life are rare. Even worse, those isolated rocks where we might be able to eke out even a pathetic existence are frequently inhabited by violent aliens who seek similar conditions and will fight tooth and claw to keep what they’ve got for themselves.
“We are now five thousand years into our one hundred year Mission. Throughout the generations, our situation has grown more and more challenging. In recent years, many of us have concluded the Ship is tipping over into the same death spiral which befell Earth. Too many people barely survive by slaving away their entire lives for the benefit of too few, while our meager remaining resources are hoarded by the powerful at the expense of the weak. Look around and it’s obvious to even the youngest child the Ship will not last another five thousand years. We’ll be lucky if it manages to last another hundred. Of course, its ultimate disintegration will impact Crew and civilian alike.”
