Titan (Old Ironsides Book 2)

by Dean Crawford

  ‘Thank you, gentlemen,’ he said to the two officers, who promptly turned and left the sickbay.

  Schmidt stood with his hands behind his back and stared at the scans for a moment longer, aware that the more he looked at them the less likely he was to be able to identify what it was about the images that bothered him.

  He turned and strode from the sick bay and down the corridor outside toward the quarantine area. The three Ayleeans detained within represented the only real means of learning about what had happened out there on the edge of the solar system, and yet they too seemed to have little knowledge of the fate that had befallen them, save the fact that it was swift and devastating.

  Schmidt reached the quarantine block to find four Marines standing in silence, their weapons at port arms as their superior officer saw Schmidt coming and turned to face him.

  ‘All quiet, doctor,’ he said.

  ‘An oddity in itself,’ Schmidt replied, well aware of the raucous and aggressive nature of Ayleeans, especially when trapped against their will. ‘I will be but a few minutes.’

  Schmidt strode straight through the quarantine wall without missing a pace and found himself confronted by the three Ayleeans, all of whom remained strapped firmly to their respective beds.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ he greeted them.

  ‘We’re not men,’ one spat back. ‘We’re Ayleeans.’

  ‘GentleAyleeans,’ Schmidt went on, ‘I’d like to ask you all a few questions about what happened aboard your ship?’

  ‘We’ve told your admiral everything,’ growled the one on the right. ‘Get out, you freak.’

  Schmidt had been called far worse in his time. Back in the day, not long after the plague when Holosaps were still something to be feared and awed, he had often been the victim of attacks on his projectors or his power source as those afraid of Holosaps sought to eradicate them by any means possible. It was only when the Court of Human Rights ruled that Holosaps had the same rights as human beings, that to switch off or otherwise harm a Holosap would result in the same charges as those applied to the attacker of a human victim, that those attacks decreased in frequency over the following decades. To murder a Holosap by permanently deactivating their database had long been a capital crime known as digicide, and many humans had served life sentences for the crime, most of them fanatical worshippers of one or another of mankind’s ancient and eradicated religions that had poisoned so many otherwise capable minds. That, however, along with the passing of centuries was not entirely enough to eradicate the latent suspicion with which many people held for Holosaps. “Not quite human” was a phrase he had heard more than once, and frankly one that he sympathized with all too easily.

  ‘I’m no less a freak than any of you,’ Schmidt replied. ‘You’re as human as I once was, no matter how hard you try to hide it or deny it. At least my transformation was not by choice, unlike yours.’

  ‘Our ancestors were marooned!’ the Ayleean on the left snarled, ‘abandoned by our own!’

  ‘Your ancestors left Earth by choice,’ Schmidt snapped back, but then dropped his voice to a more conciliatory tone. ‘But I acknowledge that they suffered greatly at our hands before doing so. That suffering was not the choice of most but the fear and prejudice of a few, and the same prejudice you show me now. I am here to help, but I’m not clear what I’m trying to help fight against.’

  The two Ayleeans peered at him with interest. The third lay in silence, apparently content merely to listen to the exchange. Finally the warrior on Schmidt’s left spoke.

  ‘It was a large vessel, bigger than ours,’ he said, staring at the ceiling as though unwilling to admit that another warship could be so much more threatening than their own. ‘It came from astern, just appeared out of nowhere. We heard the proximity alarms, heard the captain’s call for the shields to go up, but they fired even before we could do that.’

  Schmidt thought for a moment. ‘So they appeared instantaneously and were not detected prior to the attack on your sensors?’

  ‘Only a bow shock, very brief,’ said the other, grimacing either in hatred for this new and unknown enemy or in having to relate their defeat to a mere human. ‘It came out from the direction of Globular Cluster M55.’

  Schmidt knew that all vessels travelling at super–luminal velocity produced what was loosely termed a bow shock, a gravitational depression in the fabric of space and time that warped the continuum ahead of the craft and gave other vessels a brief warning that something was coming.

  ‘What about after the attack?’ Schmidt asked. ‘Did you see anything aboard your ship? Did you fight anything?’

  The two warriors shook their heads, one of them replying in a guttural snarl of regret.

  ‘If we had, we would have at least died in battle. Instead, there was nothing to fight and the ship was falling apart. We had to enter the capsules or we would never have made it out to fight another day. If they boarded the ship we didn’t see them, whatever they were.’

  Schmidt looked at the Ayleean in the middle, who had said nothing.

  ‘What about you? Did you see anything?’

  The warrior did not look at Schmidt as he replied. ‘If I had I wouldn’t have told any human scum about it. With luck, you’ll be next.’

  The other two warriors chuckled grimly, their sharpened teeth flashing yellow and white in their gaping black mouths as Schmidt turned away and looked again at copies of the scans on the quarantine bay wall.

  ‘Free us!’ one of them growled.

  Schmidt ignored their protests as he tried to focus on the scans. Reproduced in three dimensional hard–light projections, the scans contained visual information on every tiny section of the Ayleean’s bodies and allowed Schmidt to examine every tiny cell and blood vessel without ever having to touch them. One of the most valuable tools in the medical profession, the hard–light scan was in some ways much like his own projection, although sadly he was by law required to appear as a glowing blue figure rather than a solid, realistic form. The Holosap’s past as a species was well documented and known to all, and their grab for power over humanity in that distant past and in the face of mankind’s extinction from the plague had doomed them forever to always appear slightly different from human beings, distinct and unnatural. Schmidt couldn’t blame Homo sapiens for the decision: the dead were visually distinct from the living, because as a doctor he knew that one couldn’t mistake a sleeping person for a dead body. Likewise the Holosaps, both alive and dead at the same time, were made to stand apart from their brethren although he couldn’t understand why they needed to look like a ghost or an oversized light bulb. Surely they could have been generated with a glow around their bodies or just a little sign that said “Death isn’t all it’s cracked up to be” or…

  ‘If I get out of here I’ll kill you, you freak!’

  The Ayleean’s threat snapped Schmidt out of his reverie and he tutted as he considered breaking his oath and shooting the warrior himself, had he had been able to hold a weapon.

  ‘A little late for that,’ he replied. ‘And if it weren’t for me you’d all be corpses already, so shut up and let me think!’

  The Ayleean scowled and snarled but said nothing more as Schimdt focused on their scans. All three had survived rapid hypothermic cooling, the emergency escape capsules having preserved them afterward under extremely low temperatures until Titan had arrived to extricate and revive them. All three showed normal body functions, heart beats, all vital signs normal and yet there was something just not quite right about the scans and he couldn’t put his finger on it…

  ‘Captain on the deck!’

  The Marine’s bawled announcement made Schmidt flinch and broke his train of thought again as Marshall strode into the quarantine unit and made a beeline for him.

  ‘You got them talking yet?’ he demanded.

  ‘Ugh,’ Schmidt replied. ‘They won’t shut up.’

  Marshall marched past toward the Ayleeans, who recognized him in an instant and wr
ithed in fury.

  ‘The Butcher of Boise!’ one of them spat at him, a reference to Marshall’s home town. ‘I should have known you’d be here!’

  ‘Slayer of children,’ snarled another. ‘Your presence insults me!’

  Marshall surveyed them with his hands behind his back and a humorless smile on his face.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he replied. ‘The only reason you’re alive is because this ship obeyed the laws that our species’ agreed upon decades ago, that no human or Ayleean vessel would be left stricken in time of peace. Technically, despite what your people tried to do six months ago, we’re not at war.’

  ‘More’s the pity,’ snarled the one on the left.

  Schmidt turned away from them and walked straight through the quarantine wall and out into the corridor. The Marines were still there, guarding the bay as ever in silence as Marshall exited the quarantine bay and joined him.

  Marshall raised an eyebrow as he joined the doctor. ‘They seem spritely enough, all things considered.’

  ‘Yes,’ Schmidt agreed in a near–whisper, ‘that’s what bothers me.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I can’t understand how I did not detect any life forms in my scans before the Marines boarded the Ayleean warship.’

  ‘Sensors were jammed up by the electrical fields around the ship,’ Marshall said. ‘We were having trouble with them the moment we arrived, you know that.’

  ‘Yes, but I should have detected something,’ Schmidt pointed out. ‘The capsules contain beacons that initiate automatically once a person, or an Ayleean, is inside and in hibernation, correct?’

  ‘Sure,’ Marshall agreed. ‘They emit a high–energy signal that makes them easy to find, saved a lot of lives in the wake of battles back in the day.’

  ‘And yet we detected no such beacons,’ Schmidt replied. ‘Why not? The capsules were activated, they had power both internally and via the ship, so the beacons should have been transmitting.’

  ‘Maybe the sensors got fried or something,’ Marshall suggested. ‘That ship took a hell of a beating.’

  ‘Would you look into it for me?’ Schmidt asked, concerned. ‘There’s something going on here and I can’t figure it out.’

  Marshall saw the genuine concern etched into Schmidt’s translucent blue form and for once he recognized the humanity within, that Schmidt was not just a machine, a projection of light with no true human substance. This was a man of light, a true being expressing real concern for the safety of others.

  ‘The tech’ teams have already stripped the capsules down,’ he reminded Schmidt. ‘But I’ll get the signals officer to check this out, okay?’

  Schmidt nodded, clearly troubled, and Marshall glanced again at the Ayleeans. ‘You want those things to remain in quarantine? I’ve got the Ayleean dignitaries breathing down my neck wanting them sent back and I can’t hold them off forever.’

  Schmidt too looked at the Ayleeans and then he nodded. ‘I think it for the best captain that they stay here, at least until I get to the bottom of this.’

  Marshall, starting to feel somewhat unnerved by Schmidt’s demeanor, jerked his head at one of the Marine guards. The soldier hurried over as Marshall spoke in a low voice.

  ‘Have these Ayleeans put into lockdown quarantine, effective immediately,’ he said. ‘Double the guard too just in case but keep your distance, understood?’

  ‘Aye, cap’n,’ the Marine saluted and hurried away.

  Before Schmidt could speak, an announcement burst into life.

  ‘Captain to the bridge.’

  Marshall turned without another word and hurried away, leaving Schmidt to ponder the Ayleean’s scans alone.

  *

  The quarantine bay of CSS Titan was a clinical room surrounded by a translucent cube of hard–light energized sufficiently to block anything that attempted to pass through it. Terok watched as the Marines sealed the cube into lockdown and then moved off, the hard–light powerful enough to block all sound from both outside and inside the cube.

  Terok lay on his bed, still manacled firmly in place and with his companion Zerin opposite. Both of them had served aboard the destroyer before the attack, and neither of them had been able to see much of what had happened. They had fled together, the warship in flames around them and utterly defeated just seconds it seemed after they had first detected the presence of a new vessel emerging it seemed out of nowhere alongside their own.

  ‘This is part of their plan,’ Zerin growled, straining uselessly against his restraints. ‘The humans will use us as a means to enter Ayleean space and attack our planet!’

  Terok sighed. ‘Our fleet is half what it once was after the last attack, Zerin. If the humans decided to attack they wouldn’t need us as a ruse, they’d just come right in. We can’t stop them, we don’t have enough firepower.’

  ‘Then we would fight to the death!’ Zerin snapped.

  ‘The death of our species,’ Terok agreed. ‘The way we’re going, that’s exactly what it’ll be.’

  ‘You would stand by and let them destroy us?!’ Zerin raged.

  ‘We are destroying ourselves,’ Terok replied. ‘Zerin, it’s over. It’s time to face up to the fact that our species has failed. We have attacked the humans repeatedly for decades, centuries, and we have been defeated every time. We have to face up to the fact that we are inferior to them.’

  Zerin gasped, utterly appalled. ‘I would rather die.’

  ‘So be it,’ Terok replied. ‘But perhaps the death of this attitude of hatred toward the humans is just what we need if we’re to survive whatever happened to the rest of our crew.’

  ‘The humans attacked us!’ Zerin snarled. ‘They ambushed us and opened fire, without provocation! We warned the council that this would happen, that they would seek retribution for the attack on their orbital city!’

  ‘Again, they would already be invading Ayleea if that was the case and yet they did not. The humans sent messages after our attacks warning us that we would forever be considered enemies and that any vessel found in their space would be destroyed.’

  ‘And yet they rescued us?’ Zerin spat. ‘You so often speak of the power of logic Terok, and yet now you contradict yourself in a single sentence.’

  Terok sighed again. ‘There is something else out there, something dangerous. Our ship was destroyed before we could fire a single shot, our crew consumed before they could flee. We don’t even know who or what attacked us and I overheard the human admiral, Marshall, speaking to his doctor. They seem as mystified as us about what happened.’

  Zerin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but his tone changed from anger to curiosity.

  ‘What manner of being would attack without provocation, destroy so completely for no reason other than destruction itself?’

  ‘Did you see anything, Zerin, before we entered the capsules?’

  Zerin shook his head. ‘Only flames and bright white light moving through the ship.’

  Terok turned his head to look at their companion, an Ayleean he did not recognize, although that was not unusual on a ship of five hundred souls.

  ‘How did you escape?’ he asked. ‘You were not on the bridge deck when we came under attack.’

  The Ayleean shook his head. ‘I was a deck below, and barely made it out alive.’

  ‘What did you see?’

  ‘The same as he did,’ came the reply, ‘white light and flames.’

  Terok thought for a moment before he spoke. ‘I think that we should ask to contact Ayleea, to warn them of what is coming. I think that we should ally ourselves to the humans.’

  Zerin almost snapped his restraints as he jerked upright on his bed. ‘Death before dishonor!’

  ‘There is no dishonor in joining forces against a mutual enemy,’ Terok pointed out, ‘especially as this one may attack the humans as viciously as it did us. We could be vulnerable here, now. Our families could be next and we’re not doing anything to warn them.’

  Zeri
n’s fury tempered and he glanced at the Marines, who were standing guard with their backs to the cube.

  ‘They cannot hear us,’ he growled. ‘They don’t wish to hear us.’

  ‘The doctor will return,’ Terok said. ‘We shall inform him of what we know, and hopefully he will accept our request.’

  ‘It will be seen as weakness,’ Zerin warned.

  ‘We are weak!’ Terok insisted. ‘In the face of whatever destroyed our ship, we are as nothing! Together, we may be stronger.’

  The other Ayleean nodded slowly and Terok sighed again, this time in relief.

  ‘You agree, brother?’

  ‘Yes,’ came the reply, ‘I agree entirely. Which is why it cannot be allowed to happen.’

  Terok frowned. ‘What?’

  The Ayleen looked across at him, and before Terok’s eyes the flesh of his entrapped arm began to change, began to glow with what looked almost like heat as it became longer, slimmer. Moments later, like some horrendous snake, it slid from the restraints and detached entirely from the Ayleean’s shoulder as it slithered across his chest and headed toward Zerin and then split into two, the second section heading for Terok.

  Terok watched in horror as the tendril of flesh made its way across the quarantine cube toward Zerin.

  ‘Hey, let us out of here!’

  Terok’s cry was deafeningly loud inside the cube, but the hard–light blocked all sound and the Marines outside did not respond. Terok looked at the Ayleean alongside him, saw its features devoid of compassion or anything that he recognized as remotely human.

  ‘You didn’t survive the attack, you are our attacker! What are you?!’

  The creature smiled a cold, brutal smile of absolute knowledge and power.

  ‘I am your end.’

  Zerin was bellowing now for assistance as the tendril of pulsing flesh crawled up the bedside and slithered alongside his head. Terok cried out as loud as he could as he saw Zerin’s terror and then heard the Ayleean’s scream as the tendril suddenly burrowed into his ear, thrusting and pulsing and squirming as it forced itself into his skull. Zerin’s shriek of agony suddenly became a warbling, jerking gag as his body trembled and his limbs twitched, his eyes rolling up in their sockets as the horrific growth punctured his brain and suddenly Zerin fell silent and still. The worm–like growth emerged from his ear a moment later and flopped to the deck, a stream of dark red blood spilling out in thick strings after it.