Glory for Sea and Space (Star Watch Book 4)

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  “Sorry!” Polly yelled over her shoulder. “Oh crap … the tunnel’s disappeared. We’re going to crash into that … that … metal shit … that water tower.”

  “I still see it … it’s still there. Stay on course.” Boomer acted far calmer than she actually felt. Two hundred feet out from the quickly approaching water tank, she glanced to her left. Polly was squeezing her eyes shut. Boomer laughed out loud, then looked for something to hold on to—then squeezed her own eyes shut too.

  * * *

  Boomer, upon opening her eyes, saw multiple flashes of lightning against an angry slate and sapphire colored sky. “And here we are … back on Almand-CM5,” she said—the relief evident in her voice. Seeing movement, she quickly looked over her shoulder and out the starboard window. The giant Glist effigy was back—sitting atop her metallic base again—proud and regal, she towered above the adjacent valley floor.

  Billy came forward and crouched down between Polly’s and Boomer’s seats. “You do realize … all we accomplished was to open a door for that ass clown, Rom Dasticon. Now he’s here … and we’re to blame for it.”

  Boomer didn’t need Billy to remind her of the colossal failure—her colossal failure. The worst of all scenarios had just became a reality.

  Behind Billy, Mollie questioned, “Yeah, and what are we going to do about it?”

  Boomer looked around Billy’s head, catching her sister’s eye. “We’re going to finish what we started.”

  But Mollie was distracted—someone was talking to her from the rear of the cabin—probably Tops. She noticed Mollie’s eyes well up with tears.

  “What? What is it?” Boomer asked.

  “Rizzo … Rizzo’s gone. He’s dead.”

  Chapter 48

  Fringe of the Dacci Star System

  Endromoline

  The Pungshy Flight Deck

  __________________________

  Jason heard the telltale sound of the NanoCom channel breaking connection. Bristol was talking to him one moment and gone the next. He quickly hailed Ricket. Nothing. He looked around the shuttle and then at Dira, and said, “Hell, they were both right here, on the Goliath … a minute ago. They have to be close.” He spotted their two yellow icons, both bobbing at the bottom of his HUD. “Come on … they’re within Engineering.” He pointed in the direction of the Pungshy’s stern.

  * * *

  Narrow-beamed spotlights, located on the top of their helmets, illuminated their way through the corridors, between the two compartments. But the lifeless ship seemed to absorb every bit of the light. It didn’t matter—Jason knew the way, as if he’d been on the Pungshy before. And, in a sense, he had, for The Lilly was very similar in design.

  Jason recalled Bristol’s last words. How nervous he’d sounded. For Christ’s sake, how did someone get into trouble in so few minutes?

  Dira sped ahead, giving him a wry grin in the process, and entered into Engineering first. Her playful attitude continued. As much as he once appreciated being on The Lilly, he hadn’t really considered Dira’s feelings back then. Hell, she’d been stationed on The Lilly a year or so longer than he. He supposed being on her sister ship now was a type of homecoming for her as well.

  Jason wasn’t surprised by the cavernous space comprising Engineering. Above them, the seven open decks were pitch-black, like the flight deck and the ancillary passageways.

  Since his helmet lamp was practically useless, he called up a HUD virtual overlay that provided a somewhat better indication of where things were. Dira’s life icon glowed up ahead. “Hey, hold up! Something’s … something’s not right,” Jason said, fully focusing his attention on his HUD—increasing the level of detail for the virtual overlay. More of their surrounding area sprang to life—primary bulkheads; metal ladders, leading to the levels above; three separate, stand-alone consoles; and an undefined misshapen blob of something. His NanoCom crackled. Dira had tried to hail him. Why, she’s right—

  Moving slowly, his attention unfocused on where he was heading, Jason bumped into something soft, which left a gooey smear on his visor. Startled, he stepped back.

  Something or somethings were moving together, but not quite in unison—as if caught in an underwater current. There were hundreds of tiny, branch-like, tentacles. As he comprehended what he was seeing, they reached toward him. The closest tentacles, stretching out from a central disgusting mass, were about to touch his helmet—arms—legs. Jason took a quick step backward. Void-Feculence!

  By no means was this Jason’s first encounter with the horrid fungus; it grew in the pitch-blackness of space and could live pretty much indefinitely. It wasn’t uncommon to find it hiding in space debris, or within floundering spacecraft. And, like a carnivorous plant, the organism bided its time, waiting for its next meal to accidentally happen upon it. Whether it be days … months … centuries—even millennia. It was patient. Once, on a Star Watch mission to locate a missing exploration team, Jason had come across an entire space station’s interior that was enveloped in the spindly fungus. No less than two hundred empty environment suits lay about on multiple decks—their users’ bodies long ago macerated—digested.

  What made Void-Feculence unique was its ability to induce its captured prey into an altered state—somewhat between consciousness and unconsciousness—a dreamlike world that evoked total compliance. And Void-Feculence was no senseless plant either—it was intelligent. Given enough time, it would have its captives—in this case, Bristol, Ricket, and Dira—under full sensory control, like the ill-fated exploration team on the deserted space station—ready to disengage their battle suits so the organism’s slow, methodical, digestive system could commence its feasting.

  As long as Jason kept at arm’s length, or far enough away from the tentacles—and their hundreds of tiny Velcro-type hooks—he should be safe. He moved his helmet lamp up and down, then from side to side. Even from a distance, he felt a sleepy compulsion to step into Void-Feculence’s deadly embrace.

  Both Ricket’s and Bristol’s eyes, although still open, held a far away, unfocused dullness. Dira’s body was being pulled farther into the thick, greenish-brown goo. Her eyes were closed. Jason really despised Void-Feculence. Raising both arms, and with the precision of a surgeon, he began firing off short plasma bursts from his integrated wrist cannons. The tentacles crackled—bursting apart—like dry kindling thrown onto a blazing open fire. A high-pitched screech emanated from the organism’s center mass, as more and more of its tentacles flared and exploded into space dust … pop … pop … pop.

  It took fifteen minutes before the three were liberated and lying unencumbered on the Pungshy’s Engineering deck. He made a mental note to check the rest of the compartment for more of the Void-Feculence—later on—when there was time. For whatever tiny fraction remained alive could show up and thrive again—even centuries later. He put a warning out to others over the open channel. So far, there were no other sightings of similar organisms.

  “What the fuck was that shi …”

  Jason cut Bristol off mid-rant: “Void-Feculence. Just relax … you’ll be fine.” He knelt down to help Dira, now stirring and trying to sit up. “Easy there … it’ll take a few minutes for the effects to wear off.”

  Dira’s long lashes fluttered, and once her eyes opened she looked around, still confused. “Ugh … that was awful. I tried to warn you, but I couldn’t stay awake.” She looked at Jason through her smeared visor and he caught her wry smirk. “Void-Feculence?”

  “Yup.”

  She glanced over at Bristol and Ricket, both getting to their feet. “They should be careful … effects can last a few hours.”

  Jason started to convey her concerns.

  “I’m like three feet away … I can hear her just fine,” Bristol said.

  “Thank you, Dira,” Ricket said, wobbling a bit on his feet, his hands extended out for extra balance.

  “How long before you can restore auxiliary power to the ship?” Jason asked. “It’s obvious we
need to get the lights on ASAP.”

  Bristol didn’t answer right away, instead looking closely about their surroundings.

  “I think we’re safe now, Bristol,” Dira said, in her soft, kind voice.

  His momentary vulnerability dissipated as fast as it appeared. “I was about to initiate the vessel’s start routines. We’ll need to have a working AI before that can happen, though.” He glanced at Ricket.

  Ricket stood before one of the three consoles that Jason noticed earlier. At waist-level for the average person, Ricket was having a hard time seeing the top of the board.

  “Hold on, Ricket,” Jason said, hurrying over with a foot-tall, flat storage container. “This should help.”

  Ricket nodded appreciatively. Stepping upon it, he assessed the touchscreen board, illuminated by his helmet’s lamp. A moment later he looked toward Bristol.

  Bristol said, “Yeah … I know, the ship’s completely dead. You need aux power for the AI … and I’m working on that.” He disappeared into an opening beneath a propped-open maintenance access panel. Every few minutes Jason could hear Bristol cursing at one thing or another. “Oh and by the way … that obelisk thing you’re looking for … it’s not here. Not in Engineering anyway.”

  Jason silently cursed. It had to be here. Using an open channel on his NanoCom he instructed the other teams to keep an eye out for it. It was imperative that they find it and fast.

  “Hello? I have Bristol’s SuitPacs.”

  Jason and Dira spun around to see Sergeant Major Gail Stone entering Engineering. “Creepy in here,” she said, “almost got lost on the way.” She held up a pair of silver, cigarette-lighter-sized SuitPac devices. “Bristol wanted these. There’s a whole stash of them back on the Goliath.”

  Her blonde hair was worn quite distinctively—one side in a crew cut, while the other side had sharply angled bangs, covering part of her face. With multiple body tats—and an assortment of piercings—it would be easy to categorize her as a badass—but Jason had come to know her well over the years. She was one of the kindest people he knew. She was also highly proficient, as both the Parcical’s helmsman and part-time shuttle pilot. The past year she seemed to blossom—any hard edges softened somehow. Oblivious to such things, Dira had to inform him of the budding relationship between Gail Stone and Rizzo: They were head over heels in love. Seeing her now, her face awash in the soft glow of her helmet—he saw just how pretty she was. She and Rizzo would make an attractive couple.

  Bristol poked his head out from the access panel. “Come on … chop chop! Need those.”

  Stone looked like she was about to tell him where he could stick them, but instead tossed them nearby onto the deck. Bristol grabbed them up and again disappeared behind the bulkhead.

  “What’s he doing with them?” Jason asked.

  Stone said, “Using the power-pacs. He thinks there will be enough juice for the AI to initialize.”

  “Bio-form human detected … Pungshy memory modules accessible … you may enter a new start access code …”

  Other than being female, the AI’s voice was distinctly different from what he remembered on The Lilly. This AI’s tone was not only more tolerable to the ears, it was also engaging.

  Jason joined Ricket at the console. He waited for Ricket to finish doing whatever he was doing on the now-illuminated board. Ricket looked up and nodded. “Ready, Captain.”

  Jason watched Bristol climb out through the maintenance access opening. He noisily slammed the panel back into place and dramatically dusted himself off. Jason provided the necessary access codes to the AI then placed a hand on Ricket’s shoulder. “One more thing … I’d like to give the Pungshy a new designation.”

  Dira and Gail Stone, standing next to each other, both gave a reassuring nod.

  Ricket busily tapped at the board and then looked up. A moment later the AI’s voice said, “Provide new ship designation.”

  Jason said, “The Jumelle.”

  The AI said, “The vessel’s new designation has been configured to … the Jumelle.”

  Gail tilted her head questioningly.

  “It’s French … for ‘twin’ …” Dira said. “The captain hated the name Pungshy.”

  Gail nodded and said, “Jumelle, it’s very pretty. The Lilly’s twin … I like it!”

  Chapter 49

  Fringe of the Dacci Star System

  The Goliath

  __________________________

  Boomer stared at Mollie for several moments in disbelief. No … it wasn’t possible—not Rizzo. She’d known him since she was eight years old. He was one of her father’s closest friends and he’d always been like a big brother to her. As sadness engulfed her, its weight heavy on her shoulders, she stared straight ahead through the forward observation window unable to move. She was quickly falling into despair. First Leon and Hanna, who were killed by the Tahli ministry members after escaping from the Stellar’s hold. And now Rizzo. Directly or indirectly, Rom Dasticon’s evil influence was bringing more and more devastating consequences. How would she tell her father? How had she failed so completely? Worst of all—she’d made it possible for his malevolent presence to enter their own realm. Somewhere lurking out there—was Rom Dasticon. And it was her fault.

  Mollie said, “It’s only been a few minutes. Maybe … a MediPod?”

  Billy, sounding out of breath, said from the rear of the cabin, “Giving him CPR. Thought of that … I tried hailing the Parcical.”

  Boomer spun around in her seat and waited for Billy to complete another round of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She could only see Rizzo’s outstretched legs.

  Billy said, “I got through … a lousy intergalactic connection … but Parcical’s already back in the Sol System.” His voice was tight with emotion as he rhythmically compressed Rizzo’s chest. Breathily, he said, “Jason, er … your father, is here though … in the Dacci system. Something about looking for another ship.”

  Snapping out of her self-induced paralysis, Boomer jumped up and out of her seat. She reached across Lieutenant Polly’s lap and pulled off the SuitPac device on her belt. She’d just noticed it—the only one left on the shuttle.

  “Billy!” she yelled, tossing it back over the heads of the others.

  He caught it in one hand and attached it to Rizzo’s own belt, saying, “I didn’t think we had any of these still around.”

  “It’s Lieutenant Polly’s,” Boomer said.

  “Unfortunately, it’s probably too late,” he said, as the suit initialized around Rizzo’s inert form.

  Boomer held two fingers up to her ear and tried to NanoCom hail her father. She had low expectations a channel could be established, but she had to give it a try.

  Heads turned toward her and the cabin went quiet as everyone’s anticipation grew. She heard a faint sound—like static. She shook her head—it wasn’t working.

  click shhhp click … “Boomer?”

  It took her a second to find her voice. “Dad! … Oh god … Dad?”

  “Where are you … I thought you were still—”

  “Rizzo’s been hurt. He’s … Dad … he’s dead.”

  The ensuing silence was as loud in her ears as a thunderclap. “How?” was all her father could muster.

  “Just happened, minutes ago. If only there was a MediPod on board, he might still …”

  “Hold on … Be still! Is Lieutenant Polly still at the controls?” he asked.

  Feeling eight years old again, she answered, “Um … yes.”

  “Okay. I’m forwarding the Jumelle’s coordinates to her now. We’re in the Dacci system. Multiple phase-shift jumps will probably be quicker than calling up an interchange wormhole. Once in orbit, you can phase-shift Rizzo directly into our Medical.”

  “Jumelle’s?” she repeated, not understanding.

  “Boomer … hold up asking questions for now. Just get here … fast! Now go!”

  * * *

  One hundred and fifty feet below the surface of Endr
omoline, within the confines of the Jumelle’s Engineering compartment, Jason dropped his fingers away from his ear and met Gail Stone’s eyes.

  “You said Rizzo … what’s happened to him? What the hell happened to

  Rizzo?” Her face had lost color behind her amber visor. Eyes wide, she seemed to have stopped breathing.

  At that same moment, the ship’s interior lights flickered on and Jason felt the subtle vibration of the vessel’s environmental systems coming online. Before answering, he turned his gaze toward Dira. “Get up to Medical … prep a MediPod. God, I hope this ship has one.”

  “Tell me!” Gail yelled, taking a step forward, her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.

  “I don’t know any of the details, Gail. But you need to be prepared for the worst. He … Rizzo … was killed … somehow. It just happened. The good news is they’re here in the Dacci system too.”

  As tears flowed, Gail slowly shook her head back and forth. Jason felt his own heart being ripped apart. “Look … he died on us once before. We saved him that time with a MediPod. Maybe …” Jason stopped mid-sentence, as she was already running off—undoubtedly headed for Medical.

  Jason spun—looking for Ricket—and found him already by his side.

  “We should go, Captain. I may be able to help,” Ricket said.

  “We need to phase-shift into Medical, Ricket … we have no time to spare.”

  While Jason was still determining what the shift coordinates would be, Ricket phase-shifted them both into Medical’s adjacent corridor.

  * * *

  Ricket hurried into the virtual hatchway and Jason followed close on his heels. The Jumelle’s medical department appeared identical to that on The Lilly. With relief, he noted there were four MediPods, lined up one after another—although these were an older model than was currently being utilized.