by T. R. Harris
As Adam sampled the unnamed alcoholic concoction in his hand, he acknowledged his satisfaction with the day’s work. They were ahead of schedule, and if Coop and his two alien companions could get the new generator installed and running by the end of the next day, they could be off on their search for the elusive Klin.
Six hours later they were at it again—in spite of the mild hangovers. Riyad was back in the ET, this time gently pushing the NX-41 generator through the narrow opening within the rusted hull of the freighter.
Adam had grown tired of calling the ship the freighter or the ship, and named it the Nautilus, for no other reason than he always liked the word. Nautilus…it just rolled off his tongue.
He received a little flak from Kaylor and Jym who wanted to call it by its hull-designation, LK-23221. Since the bulk of the galaxy didn’t name their ships, that was understandable. But as the leader of the team, Adam insisted they keep the name. He enjoyed his subtle jabs at alien culture and tradition whenever he got the chance.
With Riyad in the ET, the other six team members were dressed in environmental suits manning guide cables attached to pulleys, slowly tugging the generator into place. Gravity had been cut to the entire ship, making the task halfway manageable. But still, the unit was big and bulky. Although he couldn’t hear the scrapping of metal-on-metal through the vacuum of space, Adam did sense the vibration through the deck. It was a tight fit.
The NX-41 generator was fifty feet long by forty feet wide and with a rounded top. There was a ten-foot square cycling unit that attached to the forward end of the generator which linked the unit to the starboard focusing rings. Jym had tested the existing cycling unit and found it be operational. That saved the time and hassle of having to find another one within the hundreds of forgotten starships in the yard. Once both units were in place, it would be Kaylor’s job to align the focusing rings. That was his specialty.
The base of the generator made contact with the deck. The large anchoring bolts missed the corresponding brackets on the machine, requiring a secondary set of cables to be attached perpendicular to the alignment to ease the unit into place. Once aligned, Arieel was the first to go to work locking down the foot-wide nuts onto the protruding bolts, spreading her legs with gusto, the auto-wrench between them and baring down with all her strength, although it wasn’t necessary in zero-g. Adam could hear grunts coming through the comm in his helmet as the Formilian Speaker reveled in the joy of physical labor.
She was just too damn cute, Adam thought, treating many mundane events in life with passion and wonder.
“Good job everyone,” Adam announced through the comm system. “Arieel, Coop, finish locking down the generator. The rest of us will go outside and replace the hull sheet. Lining up ninety-two bolts won’t be easy, so the sooner we get to it, the better.”
Adam’s prediction was prophetic. It had been a cinch removing the nuts from the bolts, but getting them lined up again with the holes in the hull plate proved to be a bear. Either from the process of removing the panel or the natural flexibility of the steel, the team ended up needing to drill twenty additional holes in the metal sheet to get it back in place, adding another two hours to the job. All-in-all, it took twice as long to replace the plate as it did to remove it.
By the time the engine compartment was resealed and pressurized, the team was exhausted and in dire need of some liquid painkiller. Five hours later they were back at it again.
“The problem is the coupling between the cycling unit and the generator,” Jym was saying. “I will need this side wall removed to make room, and there is a structural member running through the middle of it. I have not been able to locate any charged cutting tools onboard.”
It was only a two-inch variance, but it was enough to prevent the two units from aligning.
“Maybe we could unlock the generator and move it some?” Riyad offered.
Kaylor shook his head. “The generator is where it belongs. It cannot be moved. The problem is the cycling unit. It is a newer model and the NX-41 is slightly older.”
“They are compatible, operationally, I mean?” Adam asked, thinking this was a fine time to disclose this information to him. Could all their efforts have been for naught?
“They are compatible,” Kaylor answered. “Only the housing changed, which is at the root of our problem.”
“And no cutting torches aboard?”
“None with fuel.”
Adam looked at Copernicus. “Do you think we can find any fuel or charged cutters within the shipyard?”
“Probably,” he answered. “Kaylor and I can take the tractors out and start looking. We’ll have to enter every ship and search for something small. It’s not like looking for a hulking generator. It’ll take time.”
“I don’t think we have an option.”
“Roger that.”
Adam looked around at the rest of the team. There wasn’t much they could do until the generator was linked with the focusing rings. He shrugged. Looked like another session of painkiller was in order, whether they needed it or not.
6
Adam Cain was about to make an executive decision, that of banning alcohol from the Nautilus. The former crew of the freighter had been connoisseurs of the stuff and only stocked the best. Throughout the years, Adam had never acquired a taste for alien spirits, but he was in the process of overcoming that handicap. But the team had a mission to accomplish, and walking around with perpetual hangovers wasn’t helping. So either he could ban the evil substance…or simply consume it all before the mission officially got underway.
Who said command decisions were easy?
It was through the fog of inebriation that he sensed the objects moving outside the ship. At first he thought they were just echoes within his ATD, until he realized he’d never experienced echoes within his ATD. There was something in space outside the ship—a number of somethings—and they were giving off energy signals.
Adam was sure none of the others detected the objects; his heightened awareness was beyond their capabilities. He focused on the objects, now numbering nineteen and coming toward the stern of the Nautilus. Courses were corrected, indicating intelligent control, after which it didn’t take him long to identify the objects: individual gas-reaction space pods, with living beings inside…and each armed with charged energy weapons.
He wasn’t worried. The nineteen space pirates were about to go up against five ATD-equipped adversaries—Kaylor and Coop were still out looking for a cutting tool. He hadn’t received any warning from them concerning pirates in the vicinity, so he assumed they were safe.
With a groan and tired reluctance, Adam lifted himself off the old cloth-covered couch in the huge common room aboard the Nautilus. Gravity had been restored throughout the ship—fortunately at a level compatible to the aliens aboard—but still it was a struggle to get his body moving. Yes: An alcohol ban was definitely called for.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he said to the near-comatose occupants of the room, “but it looks like we have to go back to work.”
“Did bay blind a fucking tool?” Jym asked, slurring the words in his native language so badly that the translation program mangled the sentence.
“That’s not it,” Adam said. He was now in a standing position, even as the force of gravity played tricks with his balance. One would think that with a colony of mutant brain cells in his head, he would be immune to intoxication. Not so. In fact, he seemed to react even quicker to the drinks, probably a result of this body converting the alcohol at a more-efficient rate. “There’s a group of pirates about to board the ship. We may have to do something about that.”
A few bloodshot eyes looked over at him. “Can’t you handle it yourself?” Sherri moaned. “I think if I move I might vomit.”
“Just cut their life support systems,” Riyad offered, followed by a loud alcohol-scented burp.
“I would, but I’m thinking the weapons they carry might come in handy. We have somet
hing like four MK’s between the seven of us.”
“Perhaps we should have resupplied before leaving Formil,” Arieel said. Of all the team members, she had the least experience with intoxicants, yet with her new-found sense of adventure, she had jumped at the chance to make up for lost time. Adam was surprised she was still conscious.
“I will go bit you, Atom Cain,” Jym slurred. “I shall be anxious to confront an opponent with my nude brain….” His voice trailed off.
Although the new ATD recipients had been training on how to disarm a flash weapon with their minds, Adam wasn’t sure Jym had the necessary skill. Probing around inside an MK could be dangerous.
“There are nineteen of them,” Adam reported.
“So?” Sherri moaned. “Not enough of a challenge?”
“C’mon. We just got this tub put back together. I don’t want a bunch of scavengers picking her apart again.”
Riyad began to stir, as did Jym. Arieel had finally passed out, and Sherri did vomit when she tried to move from the couch.
Adam looked at his two male companions—one alien, one Human. “Well boys, it looks like it’s up to us to repeal boarders. The pirates are about to enter the aft cargo hold.”
The trio stepped into the long spine corridor of the freighter, cursing now at the long length of the ship. Adam tracked the movement of the pirates through their weapon’s energy signatures. They had consolidated at the rear of the ship. They would make a sweep of the interior, eliminating any resistance, before stripping the ship of its valuables. Adam had located the mothership; it was six hundred miles away, lost in the cluster of broken starships. Apparently they had been watching the team’s rehab progress and were now ready to take what they could. The pickings would be slim, but in these austere times, anything was better than nothing.
“The pirate ship,” Jym began, “could we not take that for our mission to find the Klin?” He had sobered up some, at least to the point where his sentences were translating properly.
Adam had already done a quick ATD scan of the pirate ship, something Jym hadn’t learned to do. “It’s a short-range vessel, not much more than a tow truck with a couple of 60’s flash cannon. It wouldn’t get us far.”
Just then, they came upon the point lead of the pirate force. Adam reached instinctively for his MK. It wasn’t there. He’d left the common room without bringing his weapon. He looked at the others. They were unarmed as well.
It was probably this fact that kept the two pirates from firing first and asking questions later. They had their hand weapons pulled and leveled at the trio.
“I took care of the one on the left,” Riyad reported. This meant he had nullified the energy weapon held by the pirate, separating the battery charge from the firing controls.
“Let me do the other one!” Jym exclaimed.
Immediately, a low hum began to emanate from the weapon held by the pirate to their right. The alien lifted the gun to his face, curious about the never before heard sound coming from his MK.
Adam and Riyad knew immediately what it was. Jym had severed the wrong connection within the gun, cutting the firing circuit while leaving the battery input still open. The MK-17 was building up to a critical mass, where upon it would explode with the force of a hand grenade.
Adam stepped forward, pulling back his right arm before whipping his hand forward in a sweeping motion. The pirate and his bleating weapon were flung down the corridor by an invisible force, sliding along the deck before the weapons exploded in a flash of smoke and hot concussion.
The other pirate was close enough to take the brunt of the explosion, killing him instantly.
The roiling cloud of heat and flame raced up the corridor. Adam didn’t have time to use his mutant-enhanced body to cover Riyad or Jym. Together all three were blasted along the smooth metal deck, eventually coming to a rest twenty feet from where they had been standing.
Adam was the first to his feet.
“Are you all right?”
Jym’s fur was smoking, but he appeared to be okay. Riyad rolled off his stomach and glared at Jym. He didn’t have to say a word; Jym understood the look.
“Wrong connection?” the tiny alien asked.
Riyad nodded.
Adam helped them to their feet. “Next time, let us handle the weapons. You just watch our backs.”
“Is there something unusual your backs will be doing?” Jym asked sincerely, confused.
“They’ll be in front of you, that’s what,” Riyad barked.
More pirates rushed into the corridor, drawn by the sound and fury of the exploding MK. Riyad and Adam disarmed all their weapons before a single bolt could be released. Next they had to contend with seventeen screaming aliens—made up of five different species—as they rushed the pair of Humans, resorting to hand-to-hand combat now that their weapons were inoperative.
As arms flailed and bones broke, an MK-17 slid across the deck and came to rest in front of Jym. He hesitated picking it up.
Adam blocked an alien fist before glancing back at Jym. “Go ahead,” he yelled. “I reactivated the firing circuits.”
Jym snatched up the weapon and began picking off the few pirates that were left standing. Ten seconds later, the corridor was quiet and still, except for a swirling residual smoke cloud hovering near the ceiling panels.
Adam watched as Jym casually walked through the maze of dead aliens until he reached the end of the hallway. There was a hole blasted in the right side wall. Jym turned to the two Humans and smiled.
“It appears we no longer need the cutting tool. This will do nicely.”
By the time Copernicus and Kaylor returned to the Nautilus they’d already been briefed about the pirate attack via ATD. But they weren’t prepared for what they saw when they entered the common room to find Adam sitting in a chair, facing a semi-circle of his grim-faced teammates.
Kaylor pulled a chair up next to Jym before sniffing his still smoking fur. He moved the chair a few feet away and sat down.
Coop pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “I saw the hole in the wall and the pile of dead aliens in the hallway. Other than that, what did we miss?”
Sherri glared at him. “Why don’t you ask mister I-keep-secrets-from-the-rest-of-the-team, mister man type guy. You know what I mean!”
“You mean Adam?”
“Of course I mean Adam,” she snapped at her boyfriend. She turned back to stare at their leader. “Go ahead; you were about to explain….”
Adam tried to smile, but it came off as a smirk. “Okay, first of all, I wasn’t keeping secrets. It just hadn’t come up, yet.”
“What hadn’t?” Coop asked.
For an answer, Adam turned his attention to Sherri. “Can you create a static electricity ball for me?” he asked.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just humor me. Can you?”
“I used to. I haven’t made one since I got the new ATD.”
“Go ahead, try.”
Sherri took a deep breath before placing her hands out in front of her, palms parallel and about eight inches apart. Her forehead furrowed as she concentrated. A few seconds later, tiny sparkles of light were seen in the space between her hands. A moment later, the light had condensed to a marble-size ball of crackling blue and white electricity.
“There…are you satisfied?”
“I am,” Adam replied. “Now watch this.”
He raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly, a sparkling ball of electricity, twice the size and intensity of Sherri’s, popped into existence. There was no tell-tale sign of accumulating charges. One moment there was nothing, the next a cracking globe of energy.
“So what? You’re better at making electricity balls than I am.”
“I discovered my latest power—for lack of a better word—when I was on my way back from Tactoria a couple of weeks ago. So you see, this is all new to me as well.”
“What new power?” Copernicus asked.
“Hey, don’t knock it,” Adam defended. “It just saved our lives.” He swept a hand at Riyad and Jym.
“What do static electricity balls have to do with levitation?” Coop asked. “We’ve all seen you make the sparkling ornaments before. They’re nothing new.”
“It seems Panur’s brain cells can make my ATD do things I didn’t know it could,” Adam began. “When I was bored during the trip, I started playing with the balls—”
Someone in the crowd snickered.
Adam continued: “I noticed I had a lot more control over them than before, and was able to call up several at a time. Then in my mind’s eye—looking with the aid of the ATD—I noticed how the static electricity was able to create wispy ribbons of light blue air currents. The more I played with them, the more I found I could control the currents. After a while I was able to compress the air into near-solid sheets, ribbons, bands—whatever you want to call them. With practice, I could to wrap these bands around solid objects…and move them.”
“Bullshit,” Coop replied.
“No really, watch.”
Adam focused on a cup of liquid—probably alcohol of some kind—sitting in front of Sherri. The container was made of a recyclable form of plastic used aboard most starships. Within his mind’s eye he saw swirls of light blue circulating near the cup. Then the color intensified as the bands wrapped around the container. It rose up about five inches…before being crushed by the strength of the compressed air around it. Liquid exploded into Sherri’s lap, causing her to jump to her feet.
“Dammit!”
“Sorry…I’m still learning how to control it. Let me try something else.”
Next he focused on a harder plastic tray used to carry food and drink from the processing station. To Adam, the tray was shrouded in the light blue light. To everyone else, it simply hovered in air until Adam made it slowly rotate. With his mind, he gently set the tray back on the table.
