Shattered Dawn (The Eternal Frontier Book 3)

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Shattered Dawn (The Eternal Frontier Book 3) Page 6

by Anthony J Melchiorri


  The whistle of air blowing through ventilation shafts seemed more pronounced here. Somehow the life-support systems were still functioning, still humming with a shred of life. That surprised him. Something must’ve been maintaining these ships; something that hadn’t left too long ago, or else the Hope would’ve fallen apart due to neglect.

  If Tag strained his ears, he thought he could hear the buzz of Dreg wings beating the air underneath the current flowing through the corridors. The sound was permanently ingrained in his memory since their time at Nycho station, back when they’d been searching for any signs of free Mechanics. He half-expected the sickening creatures to come pouring out of one of the corridors or draining down a vent to assault the Argo’s crew at any moment.

  “Lab’s up that way,” Bull said, gesturing with his rifle.

  Tag’s gaze followed where he indicated. Three decks up.

  “Shit,” Gorenado said.

  “Anyone a good climber?” Sofia asked the group.

  The ladders and scaffolding leading up to the lab deck had, at some point in the ship’s vacancy, collapsed. Skeletal remains of a few support columns jutted up toward the high ceilings, and part of a ladder swung from the top deck.

  Sofia pointed to the ladder. “Give me a running start and I can make it.”

  “Too bad the grav generators are still running,” Coren said.

  “As much as I like floating around,” Lonestar said, “I like being able to plant my feet firmly on something better. Lot harder to dodge a charging bull when you can’t do anything but float.”

  Alpha turned to Tag. “Should I calculate an alternate route?”

  “Do it,” Tag said. He pulled up the map of the Hope on his wrist terminal. Undoubtedly, the quickest route was through here; the top deck included a corridor straight to the lab. All the other routes seemed to skirt the perimeter of the ship, drawing them farther and farther away from their goal.

  “By my calculations and the current state of the ship, I estimate two alternative routes that would add another half hour to three hours,” Alpha said. She tapped on her wrist-terminal, and a holo appeared in front of the small group. Their faces reflected the ephemeral blue glow of the holo as they examined the green lines Alpha had traced through the Hope’s schematics.

  “This is the fastest route?” Bull asked gruffly, pointing to one of the lines. “Looks like it starts straight through that hatch.”

  He sauntered over to the hatch the route indicated. The other marines joined him, and Sumo tried pulling on the release. The door groaned when Gorenado put his hefty weight into it, but it still didn’t budge.

  “Looks like an emergency hatch,” Sofia said, indicating the scarred red lines crisscrossing the doorway. “Not going to be easy to open.”

  “Any other way to get through?” Tag asked.

  Coren strode forward and clicked on his wrist-mounted weapons. A blue tongue of plasma leapt from the end of one of the barrels. “I can take care of it.” He guided the plasma cutter around the edge of the doorway, making slow progress. Sparks jumped from red-hot metal and bounced across the deck.

  Some of the detritus on the floor caught fire, and Lonestar yelped, stomping it out. It took Coren another five minutes to cut halfway around the hatch.

  “Might’ve been faster just to take that other route,” Sofia said.

  “I can do this,” Coren said, his voice echoing over the comms with a hint of exasperation.

  “Looks like we’re committed now,” Sumo said.

  Coren finished cutting, but still the emergency hatch didn’t move.

  “My turn,” Gorenado said. He braced himself against the deck, bending at his knees. With a yell, he grabbed the handles on the hatch and pulled.

  “Don’t throw your damn back out!” Sofia yelped.

  “The probability of injury is rather high,” Alpha added.

  Gorenado paid them no heed as he yanked the freshly shorn door away and dropped it at his feet. It hit the deck with a clang, sending up a cloud of brown and black dust. As the dust settled, a new smell permeated the air filters in Tag’s suit, and he gagged. Plumes of black fog shifted out from the newly opened passageway, carrying the distinct odor of carrion.

  “Uh, I suppose we’re supposed to go that way now, huh?” Lonestar said, standing at the entrance with her rifle barrel staring down the dimly lit corridor.

  Sofia coughed. “I’m beginning to think there was a reason this hatch was closed.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Let’s move out,” Tag said. “Bull, take us in.”

  “Lonestar, you’re on point,” the marine sergeant barked. “Gorenado, rearguard. Sumo, stick close to the captain.”

  “Don’t trust me to handle myself?” Tag asked.

  “I’d like to keep you alive,” Bull said with no indication of humor.

  Dull-red emergency lights continued to guide their passage through the dormant generation ship. Gunk clung to every surface, seeping from the joints in the walls and out from rivet holes. Every several meters, Tag thought he heard the scuttle of the Dreg’s insectile legs scratching against the bulkheads or the ventilation shafts tracing the hallways.

  “Is all this filth from the Dreg?” Tag asked Coren.

  “I don’t believe so,” Coren said. “The Dreg typically do not leave this type of mess behind while scavenging.”

  “But from everything you told me, they usually don’t stick around those places for long,” Sofia said. “Maybe the Dreg are living here. Maybe this is a hive.”

  “It has been almost impossible for us Mechanics to avoid the Dreg in space, but I personally didn’t deal much with them,” Coren said. “I’m no expert on their culture or homesteading. Maybe our resident anthropologist would care to spend some more time aboard the Hope if it does turn out to be a hive.”

  “It would be greatly beneficial to my threat assessment algorithms if we had more data on this species,” Alpha added, looking hopefully at Sofia.

  “Et tu, Alpha?” Sofia asked.

  Alpha looked at her quizzically, then her eyes brightened. “Ah, this is a human historical and literary reference. Shakespeare’s The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, correct?”

  “Perfect marks,” Tag said. “But I’d prefer if we didn’t become part of history just yet. We’re getting close. Keep your guard up.”

  Lonestar stopped at a corner and motioned for silence. With a quick hand signal, she summoned Bull to her side, and they peered around the corner. Tag pressed himself flat against the bulkhead beside Coren. Sumo gazed fiercely around, placing herself slightly in front of Tag.

  Tag half-expected them to unleash a torrent of fire into whatever they had spotted, but after a few seconds, the marines waved the rest of the group to join them. Lonestar and Bull marched along either side of their corridor, creeping forward in slow, steady steps. Sumo remained in front of him like a walking shield. As his eyes followed the line of scarlet emergency lights down the passageway toward the hatch at the end, he saw what had alarmed Lonestar. Long gouges marred the bulkhead. They were torn deep enough through the layers of grime to reach the shining silver beneath. The lights reflected off the alloy, giving the bulkhead the eerie appearance of a wounded animal. Another crisscross of gouges tattooed the hatch, and underneath it lay a particularly lumpy mound of the brownish-black grime that covered the decks and bulkhead. Something protruded from the mound, and as they crept nearer, Tag could see the sheen of white bones.

  “I’m guessing this isn’t the Dreg’s doing,” Sofia whispered through the comms.

  “My probability analysis suggests it is unlikely,” Alpha said.

  “I won’t disagree,” Coren said.

  The scratching behind the bulkheads seemed louder now, competing for attention with Tag’s pulse pounding through his eardrums. Maybe the Dreg—or whatever had been scratching the walls—were actually louder here, or maybe it was just the effects of adrenaline heightening his senses in anticipation.

 
“I’m not one to back down from a fight,” Lonestar said, “but whatever did this is wilder than a mountain lion.” She kicked at one of the bones. “And damn hungry to boot.”

  Bull pressed a palm against the hatch. “First chamber of the laboratory sector should be through this door.”

  “Coren,” Tag said. “Get us through.” He could feel the hairs rising on the back of his neck. “And let’s hurry.”

  “You got it,” Coren said. He activated his wrist-mounted weapons, and the plasma torch lit up again. It cast a flickering blue glow that melded with the red emergency lights. Orange and yellow slag dripped and sparks danced from the torch as it cut into the hatch with a hiss that snaked down the corridor.

  Bull and the other marines stood sentinel. Sofia gazed nervously between Coren and the other end of the passage. Though the crimson lights illuminated swatches of the intersection from which they had last turned, they still allowed enough shadows to make Tag shiver. The tension stretching between the crew was almost as thick as the grime under their boots. He saw the shadows flicker and dance, as if something liquid flowed through them, and he shook his head, convinced it was his nerves playing tricks on him.

  Alpha remained statuesque, her expression betraying no emotion. But when she opened a private channel to Tag, she said, “I believe I am experiencing fear.”

  “Understandable,” Tag whispered back.

  “Did ya’ll see that?” Lonestar asked, her faux Texan accent coming in strong.

  “Negative,” Bull said.

  Then Tag heard something like the patter of feet through sludge. It was strikingly different than the gentle scritch-scratch of what he thought had been the Dreg.

  “Anyone else hearing what I’m hearing?” Tag asked.

  Sumo leaned forward as if straining her ears. “Yeah, I think so.”

  More distant slaps of something against the goo.

  “Coren, any chance you can hurry up?” Sofia asked.

  “I’m doing this as fast as I damn well can,” he shot back.

  A howl exploded down the hall. More howls erupted in response, clotting the corridors in a hellish cacophony. Scraping claws and a chorus of aggressive barks joined the sonic storm.

  “Okay, we’ve definitely got incoming contacts,” Lonestar said. Her finger hovered on the trigger guard, and Bull kneeled next to her, his rifle playing across the openings at the end of the corridor.

  Movement caught Tag’s eye. His hand twitched around his pulse pistol. He pulled it from his holster, leveling it toward the shadows and red lights where the marines were training their aim. Maybe it was a silly gesture. If the marines couldn’t bring down whatever was headed this way with their rifles, then he doubted his pulse pistol would have any significant effect. But it felt better to hold a weapon. Better to do something other than wait in terror.

  “How much longer, Coren?” Tag asked.

  “Give me ten seconds.”

  “That’s not up to me.”

  Now Tag knew for sure he saw movement. Shadows loomed, cast by light streaming from the other passages. Distorted by the emergency lights, it was difficult to make sense of the shapes other than to know that they were headed toward Tag and his crew.

  “I’m through!” Coren said.

  “Gorenado!” Tag yelled. “Get that door out of our way!”

  Instead of positioning himself to heft the door out like last time, Gorenado charged. He hit the door like a rhino, throwing his shoulder into it and knocking the panel backward. With a ringing thud, the door crashed beyond the opening into a new chamber filled with amber light.

  “Clear!” Gorenado bellowed.

  Alpha and Sofia ran in first. Sumo covered Tag as they retreated through the doorway. Bull and Lonestar backed up slowly, their rifles still trained on the shadows that were growing ever larger down the passage. When Bull glanced back to confirm everyone had made it, they both sprinted through.

  “Alpha! Gorenado! Get that door back up!” Tag yelled.

  Gorenado grunted as he picked up one side, and Alpha latched her silver fingers under the other. They started to lift, but it slipped from Gorenado’s grip. He jumped back, cursing. Bull positioned himself to help. At the same time, Lonestar and Sumo sent a fusillade of rounds careening down the passage, flashing and ricocheting against the bulkheads. Tag never got a good look at the monster, but he heard more desperate howls as Gorenado, Bull, and Alpha managed to lift the hatch. They secured it into place.

  “Coren, weld that thing now!” Tag said.

  The others pressed against the hatch, holding it place as Coren began welding. Through the hiss of the plasma welder, the shrill cries of the creatures on the other side of the hatch continued, piercing the din. Tag motioned to Sofia, Sumo, and Lonestar, and they began heaving lab benches and other unsecured, heavy pieces of equipment toward the hatch to barricade it just before the first creature slammed against the door.

  Definitely too big to be a Dreg, Tag thought.

  Gorenado dug his boots into the grime, pressing his back against the hatch. He shuddered as the hatch shook with more exploding bangs. Sweat trickled down Tag’s brow as he shoved another lab bench into place, its legs leaving long, scraping canyons in the filth on the deck.

  “Come on, Coren,” Gorenado managed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Can’t...hold...this...”

  The hatch jolted, almost buckling under the impact as another creature slammed the door. Gorenado stumbled forward, but Sumo caught him before he face-planted on the deck. Coren finished welding and stepped to admire his handiwork, while Alpha and Bull let go of the door.

  “It’s not perfect, but it should hold for a while,” Coren said.

  Sofia and Lonestar slammed another heavy shelf full of coils of wire and microscopy equipment against the hatch. The equipment rattled as the creatures pounded on the other side.

  “What were those things?” Sofia asked, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath.

  “Didn’t get a good look,” Lonestar said. “But I don’t think they’re very friendly.”

  “That appears to be an accurate assessment,” Alpha said.

  “What happened here?” Sumo asked, already looking away from the hatch.

  Tag nodded, then finally took the opportunity to study the room they had found themselves in. Unlike the corridors, they didn’t need to contend with emergency lights. Golden light spilled from light banks. There were heaps of ancient medical equipment piled against crash couches that looked like precursors to those found on the Argo. Shelves and lockers hung open, spilling boxes of pharmaceutical supplies. A terminal screen with busted glass decorated an auto-pharmacy that was almost as big as a regen chamber. Against another bulkhead stood a smattering of terminals. Most were attached to broken holoscreens with piles of the fragmented shards accumulated around them. But two were still functional, emitting a faint blue light.

  Tag strode toward the nearest terminal, trying to ignore the sounds of the creatures outside the lab. “Whatever happened here, maybe we can find some answers.”

  He traced his hand over one of the terminals, and the holoscreen lit up. His eyes grew wide. Two short sentences appeared on the holo in English.

  “WELCOME TO THE UNS HOPE BIOLOGICAL LABORATORIES. GESTURE HERE FOR ACCESS.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Tag waved his hand over the terminal. His mind whirled at what they might discover. All the secrets of the experiments carried out on the Hope, what had become of the crew, and what those creatures were trying to run them down—by the three hells, they might even contain information about the Drone-masters.

  But the holoscreen merely glared at him with a dull-red message: USER NOT RECOGNIZED.

  “Alpha, can you get into this?”

  “These are highly antiquated systems. I am certain that I can,” Alpha said. She stood staring at him blankly for a moment. “I’m sorry, have I not satisfactorily answered your question?”

  “That was more of a request for
you access them, not an assessment of your abilities,” Tag said.

  “Oh, I understand. Thank you for the clarification.” Again she stood in front of the terminal like a statue, as the jarring scrape of claws against metal sounded from the hatchway.

  “Well, go on,” Tag said. “Do it.”

  “Of course, Captain.”

  A data collection wire from her EVA suit adhered to the terminal, and she froze as if meditating. While Alpha probed whatever artificial intelligence and security systems existed in the lab terminals, the marines trained their rifles on the barricaded hatch as if it might give way at any moment.

  “I think that one is going to hold for a while,” Tag said to Bull, “but what about other passages? Can you guys make sure all other entrances are secure while we probe the data?”

  “Will do, Captain,” Bull said. “Sumo, you watch the eggheads. Gorenado, Lonestar, on me.”

  Their bootsteps clacked away down another corridor stretching from the main chamber.

  “I have successfully interfaced with the system,” Alpha said, retracting the data cord from the terminal.

  The holoscreen blinked, showing a virtual shelf of data cubes and packets. With a wave of Alpha’s hand, the second terminal fizzled off for a moment and then rebooted, allowing another access point.

  “Both systems should be available to you and Sofia,” Alpha said. Coren shot her a glance, and she asked, “Would you like a terminal, too?”

  “Please,” Coren said. “As much fun as it is to watch you three do all the work, I would like to do something.”

  “Then, as Sofia might say, be my guest.” Alpha waved her hand over another terminal. Its holoscreen crackled on. The colors were slightly distorted, and the images on it stretched like they were made of melting taffy.

 

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