The Orphaned Worlds_Book Two of Humanity's Fire

by Michael Cobley

  ‘Returning this one,’ Ajegil said as they approached. ‘He’s just out of interrogation so he’ll give you no trouble.’

  The guard gave a bored nod, punched a code into the touchpad and the door swung inwards. Ajegil prodded Kao Chih in the back, and he shuffled forward, trying to look subdued. Ajegil told the guard he was to take another out for questioning and got another nod, after which the door locked behind them.

  Inside, a grille fence divided off a narrow section from the rest of the hold. Within it metal steps ascended to a walkway running round three of the walls, where four guards watched the people below, between muttering to each other. As he followed Ajegil up the steps, Kao Chih glanced at the groups of people that he knew well. Some eyes widened in recognition but nothing was said. The silence was eloquent with tension.

  Aware of their regard, Kao Chih strove to shut them out as he reached the gantry ahead of Ajegil, who beckoned the guards to join him. Kao Chih’s bonds were faked; in each hand he held a single-dose injector of fast-acting narco-stun, as did Ajegil, who waited till the Ezgara guards were gathered together before speaking.

  ‘This one was found wandering the corridors. Who let him out?’

  There was a chorus of denials at which Ajegil shook his all-too-Human head.

  ‘You’d better decide. When senior officers hear about it, they’ll want someone to punish …’

  Punish was Kao Chih’s cue. He fell to his knees with a groan then stabbed out at the legs of the two nearest guards. The Ezgara barely had time to react before the narco-stun hit their bloodstreams and they crumpled like disconnected puppets. Turning, he saw Ajegil standing over the prone forms of the other two while from below came a growing chatter of excitement.

  ‘Four point seven minutes, friend Kao Chih. You must persuade them to follow us without delay.’

  Kao Chih nodded and hurried downstairs, unlatched a plastic-frame door in the fence, and came face to face with Kang Lo, the Duizhang of the Retributor.

  ‘Pilot Kao,’ he said. ‘Are you here to rescue us?’

  ‘Indeed so, honourable Duizhang, myself and an … ally. Please, time is precious, so if you follow my colleague he will lead you all to safety …’

  Kang Lo quickly and firmly mustered all his officers and the others into an orderly line. As they hurried from the hold, faces passed Kao Chih by, many exhausted and openly fearful, others more resilient, although Tan Hua looked as blank-eyed as ever. However, there was no sign of a short-legged, long-armed Voth pilot of his acquaintance. Worried, he asked Shang Ko, one of the high administrators, who pointed to a deck-level slotted wall vent.

  ‘The Voth person was convinced that he could escape via the vent ducting and asked us to group near there and obscure his departure.’

  ‘When was this, may I ask?’

  ‘Just a few minutes before you arrived, Pilot Kao.’

  Kang Lo was not pleased. ‘You did not think this important enough for me to know, Shang Ko?’

  The administrator was suddenly nervously contrite. ‘Deepest apologies, Duizhang! We were firmly of the belief that the Voth would realise the futility of his actions and return.’ He glanced at the vent as if willing the Voth to appear.

  Yash, you fool! Kao Chih thought, then turned to Kang Lo. ‘We must leave him, honourable one. If we delay we may be seen and recaptured, or we could miss the chance to leave. Quick, we must keep up with the others!’

  Cursing himself and the fatefulness of the predicament, he urged the Duizhang and the last few to hurry. At the exit, Ajegil had dealt with the guard, whose unconscious form lay stretched out against the bulkhead. The line of escapees reached the companionway and climbed energetically, apart from some of the elders, whose slowness already had them bringing up the rear. They had just reached the final stretch of corridor when Kao Chih felt a wave of vertigo and a pulse of nausea, a sure sign that the ship had dropped out of hyperspace. From further ahead came groans and a faint spattering sound – someone’s stomach had rebelled.

  It seemed almost incredible to Kao Chih that they managed to get all twenty-four freed captives up to the storeroom without being spotted or some other mishap. Ajegil glanced at his wrist-pad as he approached the oval gap in the storeroom bulkhead.

  ‘We took longer to retrieve the prisoners,’ the Roug said. ‘But the Ezgara ship was likewise late in reaching its end point. Friend Kao Chih, it is time to signal the Vyrk.’

  The Roug reached inside the oval recess and tapped a code into the small console. The stasis field encasing the metallic portal abruptly vanished and wavery lines of radiance began to crisscross the oval space. Kao Chih quickly turned to the Duizhang.

  ‘A gateway will soon appear, Duizhang, and everyone must hurry through as it will close in just over four minutes. There must be no hesitation.’

  ‘This is understood, Pilot Kao. I shall see to it …’

  Suddenly the air within the silvery oval seemed to break up and ripple for a moment, like fragments of stained glass floating on turbulent waters, before flattening into the image of a broad spacious room with several consoles at which dark-clad, spindly Roug stood. A honey-yellow light suffused the decor, just as Kao Chih remembered …

  Then Kang Lo was rushing his people through, watched over by Ajegil. The Roug tapped Kao Chih’s shoulder and pointed to the elders hobbling along the corridor – he nodded and went to offer assistance. He was helping one of the high family elders, Uncle Hwa, when he heard a metallic tapping from back along the corridor, along with a faint rasping sound. Suddenly old Hwa stopped, frowning.

  ‘Do you hear it, young Kao Chih?’

  ‘Hear what, honoured father?’

  ‘Someone is calling your name … back there …’

  Kao Chih shook his head. ‘I can’t quite make it …’

  ‘… Kao Chih …’

  That time he heard it quite clearly, and as Hwa limped on into the storeroom Kao Chih darted back along the corridor, past an intersection, and spotted a vent high up on the bulkhead …

  ‘Pilot Kao!’ said Ajegil as he helped the last couple through the portal. ‘Quickly, there are only seventy-six seconds left.’

  He nodded but moved along to peer up at the vent and, sure enough, there was Yash, wide eyes glaring down at him.

  ‘Help me, Human – the jelking vent cover is stuck!’

  He turned to the Roug. ‘I need a tool, something to get this cover off.’

  Fifteen yards away, Ajegil snatched up something from the tools he had used earlier and dashed down the corridor. Elbowing Kao Chih aside, he levered the vent open then reached in and grabbed the Voth by the collar of his jacket garment.

  ‘Just … hey! …’ said Yash as the Roug dragged him out, slung him over one shoulder and ran back to the storeroom with Kao Chih following.

  And almost predictably, the wormhole portal quivered with waves of distortion just as they charged into the small room. Kao Chih caught a glimpse of Kang Lo and the others staring back before the portal dissolved into nothing.

  ‘What … what the jelk was that?’

  Ajegil put the Voth down carefully then stood back and shook his head, mouth firmly closed, eyes blazing with fury.

  ‘That was our means of escape,’ Kao Chih said, panic making his heart race. ‘We’re trapped here …’

  ‘Because of this careless creature,’ said Ajegil. ‘That sounded like an insult, you Human jelker.’ ‘I am not Human, careless Voth.’

  Yash bared his yellowing teeth. ‘If I have to get really careless, O ugly biped, you’ll …’

  ‘Quiet!’ Kao Chih said in a strangled whisper.

  They were suddenly silent and the sound of approaching footsteps was immediately audible.

  ‘Just one,’ said Ajegil, producing another narco-stun injector. ‘And we need another Ezgara uniform.’

  Understanding, Kao Chih grinned, snatched up a length of plastic tie from a shelf and wrapped it about his wrists. Ajegil nodded.

  ‘The Voth r
emains here,’ he said.

  Yash fumed but said nothing as the door was closed.

  The ambush was a copy of the action against the guards in the hold. A minute or two later they arrived back at the storeroom, carrying the snoring Ezgara guard between them. After a few adjustments, the man’s light armour proved an acceptable fit, but unfortunately he had been wearing no helmet.

  ‘So what do we do?’ Kao Chih said. ‘Find someone with a helmet and persuade him to lend it to me?’

  ‘Or break into an armoury,’ said Yash.

  Ajegil shook his head. ‘Too time-consuming. The shuttle bays are three decks down in the midsection – we must proceed to the nearest one with all speed. For all we know, the captives’ absence may have already been discovered.’

  ‘No, so far those jelkers know nothing,’ said the Voth, tapping his ear in which a red audiobead was just visible. ‘When I was crawling about in the walls I found a few handy bits of equipment left behind by some comms tech. Also found a monitor system piping a video feed from that hold up to the jelking bridge network. So I recorded a nice, boring segment, looped it and streamed it into the feed. So, no alarms yet, but can’t last for ever.’

  Ajegil regarded the Voth with faint respect. ‘Exactly, which is why we must go. Now.’

  ‘What of my face?’ said Kao Chih. ‘The very first Ezgara we meet will raise the alarm.’

  ‘I can use my talents,’ said the Roug. ‘I can temporarily alter your features.’

  Yash’s eyes widened. ‘Now that is some talent.’

  ‘I told you, I am not Human,’ said Ajegil.

  Kao Chih almost smiled at the subterfuge. ‘Will it be painful?’ he said.

  ‘To begin with you will feel only a tingling numbness. But after less than an hour your facial tissues and musculature will reassert their normal configuration and there will be some … discomfort.’

  Kao Chih breathed in deeply. ‘Very well, I’ll do it. What will I look like?’

  The Roug pointed at the semi-undressed, comatose prisoner. ‘This one. Now, stay calm and keep your eyes open for now.’

  Ajegil raised his hands and laid them against Kao Chih’s face. The sensations were minor, subtle, sometimes barely noticeable. An icy prickling came and went. Skin seemed to be tugged and muscles shifted but these were ghostly, foggy feelings, distant and painless. Several minutes later, Ajegil lowered his hands and regarded him a moment then took out a small folding mirror and held it up. In it Kao Chih saw his own eyes staring out of a stranger’s face, the face of the man on the storeroom floor. The eyes were round and the chin was jutting and heroic but the mouth seemed frozen in a kind of smug half-grin. And when he tried to mention this to Ajegil he found his jaw and lips unresponsive.

  ‘Your face muscles are locked into this expression,’ the Roug said. ‘Otherwise you would have no control over it and your mouth would hang open, allowing its fluid to trickle out. Therefore, try not to talk …’

  He was interrupted by a warbling alarm from out in the corridor. ‘An alert! – they must have found the empty hold.’

  But Yash shook his head. ‘Something else entirely. This ship had reached its destination a short while ago, a base of some kind, and it was making a stealth approach when another ship emerged from its entrance …’ The Voth listened for a moment then smiled. ‘Jelking perfect! – the captain of this ship has just told the other one to surrender or he’ll start shooting the prisoners …’

  ‘No more delay,’ said Ajegil, tugging open the door. ‘The Vyrk will be here very soon, after which our safety may become problematic …’

  ‘Whu’ ’u yu ’ean ’y ’o’le’atic?’

  Kao Chih’s attempt to ask the Roug what he meant unfortunately came out as a string of grunted syllables.

  ‘Please, Kao Chih, don’t talk,’ Ajegil said. ‘Just follow my lead and keep alert.’ He handed Kao Chih one of the captured heavy beam pistols. ‘Only use this as a last resort.’

  Yash the Voth was grinning widely as he led the way. ‘Can’t speak, eh, Human? What a jelking shame – must be like not being able to use half your brain …’

  As the Voth sniggered, Kao Chih could only glare at his hairy neck as he hurried along at Ajegil’s side, silently vowing to exact a verbal riposte. Eventually.

  31

  THEO

  Even as the bizarre alien vessel loomed ominously on the Starfire’s sensor displays, Gideon was conversing in low tones with Malachi who was crouched nearby. To Theo, the situation looked desperate, with the Starfire drifting, her controls rendered useless by some kind of coded transmission from Marshal Becker’s flagship. And yet, for all that Gideon seemed to have no options left, he still appeared to be planning something.

  The Tygran commander straightened.

  ‘Open the channel,’ he said. Becker’s features came up on the main display.

  ‘You’re wearing out my generosity, Gideon,’ said the Marshal. ‘Choose your path – capitulation or death.’

  ‘Who’s the newcomer, Becker?’ said Gideon. ‘Has it changed the game for you?’

  The Marshal shrugged. ‘They refuse all comm hails but they look to be even lighter-armed than you. Now, decide.’

  ‘Very well, sir – I would rather die with a blaster in my hand than submit to you. Clear enough?’

  And with his last word, every panel and display on the bridge went dead, along with most of the lights. The starry depths of space outside the viewport suddenly took on a new prominence.

  ‘Everyone keep calm,’ said Gideon. ‘I had Malachi here trigger a full shipwide shutdown. The plan is to respin the systematrix while leaving all exterior sensors and receivers disengaged.’ He turned to the tactical officer, who was feverishly working away on the holofield display of a small standalone console. ‘Malachi is creating an amended version of the main initialiser code with which we can restart the ship systems.’

  ‘And all the time, Becker’s got us in his sights,’ Theo said.

  ‘Yes, Becker could destroy us at the touch of a button,’ Gideon said. ‘We’re sitting dead in space. But he would much prefer prisoners to corpses.’

  An urgent thudding interrupted him. Theo tugged open the bridge entry hatch to admit Klein, who went straight to Gideon.

  ‘Sir, we’ve got intruders on board. Came in through the drive assembly maintenance access, and they now hold Engineering. They were aboard the shuttle that came from the base.’

  ‘Nathaniel Horne,’ said Gideon, who then looked sharply over at Malachi. ‘How?’

  ‘When the systematrix shuts down, all hatchlocks shift to their default access codes,’ Malachi said. ‘Which Becker would know, of course, sir.’

  ‘Of course,’ Gideon said acidly. ‘How much longer?’

  ‘A matter of minutes, five, six maybe.’

  Gideon nodded, got up from his command couch and made for the hatch.

  ‘That thing calling itself Nathaniel Horne is on my ship, and I won’t permit it. Klein, you’re with me. Theo, I trust you with the bridge.’

  A moment later they were gone. The helmsman, Berg, seemed at a loss for words but Theo just smiled and went to sit in Gideon’s place. At the tactical station, Malachi gave him a slight smile and kept working.

  I hope Gideon knows what he’s doing, Theo thought. I’ve not commanded anything bigger than a sailboat, and I don’t think these two fellows would appreciate me ordering them about.

  He was about to share his misgivings with them, along with an offer to endorse their more experienced recommendations, when Malachi made a satisfied sound and snatched a small tab module from the side of his console. Quickly, he stood and climbed the few steps to the bridge’s plain back wall, pressed something at the top of the bulkhead, crouched to do the same at the bottom, then at shoulder height pressed an indentation that Theo had taken to be nothing more than a moulding pattern. There was a faint whine and a slender full-length section slid out of the wall. Not so much shelves as layers of incomprehensible co
mponents were revealed, visually an array of grey, blue and transparent blocks.

  ‘Bypass, bypass, bypass,’ Malachi muttered as he scanned the rows from the top to about two-thirds down where he pulled out a blue block, slotted in the tab, then closed it all up. He was back at his station even before the complex array had fully retracted into the wall. He fingered a few controls and an image appeared in the hazy darkness of his holodisplay, a cluster of glowing circular symbols that intersected at different angles, shimmering as they rotated. The tactical officer turned to Theo.

  ‘Sir, ready to respin the shipboard systems, by your command. Captain Gideon is apprised of the situation.’

  ‘Then proceed, Malachi.’

  The tac-sergeant put on a webby headpiece, bent over his console and touched a few control symbols. An instant later lights came up, consoles and displays flickered back into life and ghostly schematics flitted across the main viewport.

  ‘Environmental initialised, helm controls back online,’ said Berg at the helm.

  ‘Weapons and tactical now online,’ said Malachi. ‘Internal comms are nominal. Externally we have no way of contacting or being contacted.’

  ‘Can you adapt a receiver to filter out whatever they were using to override your systems?’ Theo said.

  ‘I could cut the bandwidth and resolution,’ Malachi said. ‘Chop down the colour data, leave it in monochrome. Yes, that would do it. May I ask why?’

  ‘It would be advantageous for the captain to be able to converse with Becker, rather than presenting a blank face, don’t you think?’

  ‘I can see the sense in it, sir.’

  ‘Will it take long?’

  ‘A few moments, sir.’

  Theo gazed at the stars as he waited, wondering if political prisoners on Tygra were allowed to go fishing.

  ‘Done, sir.’

  ‘Good, and can you get us a view of those other ships?’

  ‘I can overlay one on the main viewport if you like, Major.’