The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle

by John Thornton

  Tarpay let go of Paul and rushed toward Victor. The animals grabbed onto his booted foot and pulled hard trying to get him out of the flames.

  Paul stood up, and looked at his arm. He was deeply bruised, but the skin was not broken. The RAM clothing had offered some protection, but that was not all that had prevented injury.

  “That beast was just holding me. It could have chomped off my arm in a single bite!” Paul exclaimed. “It felt more like a restraint than an attack.”

  Tarpay was pulling vigorously at Victor attempting to get him out from the burning remnants of the tree. Victor was screaming in pain and flailing his arms trying to protect his exposed face.

  The white automacube rushed into the flames, and with its appendage began to move the branches away from the man. It sprayed a gas from the front of the machine which was suppressing the fire. Victor’s fallen handgun exploded which sent a barrage of shrapnel against the side of the automacube. The white machine served as a shield and none of the people were injured by that explosion.

  “We cannot let him just burn to death,” Gretchen stated as she holstered her pistol and joined in to help.

  “He tried to kill us! That beast dragged me around!” Paul yelled, but he too helped to move the charred tree out of the way.

  With the fire almost out, and the branches removed from over the body, Tarpay was able to drag Victor from the danger.

  “I am Doctor 147. I will assist you. Emergency assessment begun,” the automacube stated.

  “Is Tarpay…hurt?” Victor choked out.

  Tarpay nuzzled him, and he weakly responded with one burned hand reaching out.

  The appendage on the machine pulled the burnt clothing off of his body.

  “I can offer you medical treatment. May I proceed?”

  Victor nodded. Tarpay sat next to him and watched attentively as the medical machine worked.

  “Patient suffering from significant burns over thirty one percent of his body, moderate head trauma from blunt force injury, and mild inhalation injury. Prognosis excellent for recovery. Treatments begun. Sedation and restoration medications applied. Integumentary regrowth initiated. Neurological recovery management established. Pulmonary protective healing initiated. Estimated time of recovery, thirteen hours seventeen minutes.”

  Gretchen squatted down and looked at Victor. He looked back at her through somewhat hazy eyes, but he was no longer in pain.

  “I am sorry this happened,” Gretchen stated. “We did not want you to get hurt, and the fire was not intentional.”

  “Smugglers…break…quarantine,” Victor whispered. “Why do you put… us all in danger?”

  “We are trying to find that girl’s mother. She was lost in the corridors and decks outside this habitat.” Gretchen pulled out the medical kit and attached it to Victor’s body. “I want to help as well.”

  “The Outbreak… Roe will get in… kill us all…Roe,” Victor coughed.

  “The med kit will help you,” Gretchen said.

  Out of the side of the medical kit came a syringe. Across the display on the med kit it read, ‘Inject into any major muscle group. Rejuvenation of injuries in thirty four minutes. Immunity for Rabies M,’ in flashing letters.

  Gretchen injected Victor with the contents of the syringe. “This will help you to heal, and protect you from the infection which causes the Roe.”

  “What?” Victor said in a confused manner. “You could have… killed me… but you?”

  Doctor 147’s appendage took more readings, “Revised prognosis. Healing process has been accelerated. Estimated recovery in under forty minutes.”

  “We are not your enemies. We are just passing through to help that girl find her mother,” Gretchen said. “I wish we had more time to explain.”

  Paul reached for the multiceiver in Victor’s scorched pouch. Tarpay growled low in his throat and put his ears back.

  Victor lifted his arm and patted Tarpay. “Safe…guard only… down… protect.”

  Tarpay responded instantly to Victor’s weak command. He sat down on his haunches and looked at Victor, then watched as Paul pulled the multiceiver out of the pouch. Tarpay’s eyes were intently attentive.

  Paul gently moved the multiceiver away. “He called people on this device. I will tell them he is injured so they can come and get him. But we need to leave before his associates get here.” Paul looked at Victor. “Will that beast let us leave?”

  “He could kill you….all of you… if I gave… the command…but he will not.” Victor again patted the wolf-dog.

  Paul activated the multiceiver and said into it, “Your man is injured, but has received medical treatments. The beast is protecting him until you get here. We are leaving.”

  “Who is this? Victor? Victor, what has happened? We are moments away from your location.”

  Paul set the multiceiver down near Victor.

  “We need to leave very quickly,” Paul said.

  “Again, we are sorry. We do not want to be your enemies,” Gretchen emphasized to Victor. “The animal with you will stand watch until your friends arrive?”

  Victor nodded.

  “We will need to weld shut the door,” Paul said as the automacube and Gretchen slipped out of the pressure door. “It will slow them down a bit. I will also sever the power links to this door.”

  “I am not sure they will even try to follow us out of their habitat. They really fear the Roe and the infection,” Gretchen said as she watched Paul use the welder to quickly seal the door from the opposite side. He then used the molecular saw to cleave apart the color pad control panel.

  “I fear the Roe too,” Paul said. “And my arm really hurts. That beast had an incredibly strong set of jaws. I am glad it did not use the teeth to bite me.”

  13 into roe demesne

  “Brinley? Zoya?” Gretchen called. “Where are you?”

  The pressure door was sealed as best as Paul could do. This side of the door was labeled, ‘F Habitat: Steppes: F-23’ whatever that all meant. He rubbed his bruised arm after putting the tools in his backpack. He considered utilizing the medical kit to heal his bruises, but rejected that as he was more concerned with reuniting with Brinley and Zoya.

  The corridor where they stood was not long and opened into a moderately well lit room. There was an ESRC with a small amber light above it on their right side. To the left was a wall with a series of circular gauges about two hand spans wide. Some of the gauges were functional, but others were clearly depowered or broken. One had a missing clear cover and the dials were wrecked as if smashed by an impact.

  “Brinley? Zoya?” Paul added his call.

  Beyond the gauges was a railing which overlooked a dark area. As they walked toward that railing, they saw that it extended away to their right where a walkway of expanded metal extended into the darkness.

  “Where did they go?” Paul wondered aloud.

  “I can track them, using the DNA pneumatic-exhalation residue method. I have that calibrated for my best conjecture on the DNA of Zoya’s mother. I can easily sequence it for Brinley, Zoya, or all three. I can no longer use my Dermo-deprehension Anisotensic flood lamp as that was destroyed when the weapon detonated,” Doctor 147 stated. “However, there is only one route from here, as we know they did not reenter the habitat, so specific tracking is not needed at this juncture.”

  “You sound more like a transport automacube all the time,” Paul said.

  “I am a medical automacube who is re-purposing programming,” Doctor 147 replied.

  Paul and Gretchen then looked closer at the automacube. Its side was riddled with small dents and a few punctures which penetrated it. There were singe marks on its underbelly and drive wheels.

  “How badly damaged are you?” Gretchen asked in concern.

  “I am still functional, but have lost some ancillary abilities,” the machine replied. “I am not a security automacube, so what armor I have was not designed for preventing weapon’s fire.”

  �
��You put out that fire, and you saved that man.” Paul stroked the hair on his chin pondering what he had witnessed. “I was tempted to leave him and follow Brinley and Zoya.”

  “Fire suppression gas is carried by most automacubes on the Vanguard as part of the basic programming. As to administering treatments to that man, that is my primary function. I am a medical automacube.”

  “Yes, you are.” Paul chuckled. He was looking around and trying to figure out why the others would have run off.

  “Shall I begin tracking them?” Doctor 147 asked.

  “No need for tracking,” Brinley replied as she and Zoya stepped out from the darkness. “We had just scouted ahead.”

  “We did not ‘scout ahead’ I was running away to find momma,” Zoya said. “Brinley chased me down and convinced me we needed to work on this together. I was wrong to leave you behind. Will you forgive me?”

  Paul was about to say something sarcatsic when Gretchen poked his sore arm, which interrupted him. “Zoya, we know you are anxious to find your mother. We understand that, and we are here to help. We will be much more effective if we work together. Working together we will be much more likely to save your mother. Our best chance of success is as a team, not as solos.”

  “That is nearly exactly what Brinley said to me. She also said someone was shooting at you and so we came back to help you. I guess I am too late to even help with that,” Zoya replied. “I did hear the shots, but once I got that pressure door open, all I could think of was momma.”

  “Actually, the man was shooting at you and Brinley as you left his habitat,” Gretchen said and then explained what had happened with the man and the fire.

  A low thumping sound was heard. It was coming from the pressure door.

  “That is a pneumatic hammer-jack,” Brinley said, identifying the noise. “They must have an engineering automacube with them. The CPO uses them to force open things. It looks like we are being followed, and it will take them a while to force open the pressure door.”

  “They must be really serious if they are willing to break their own quarantine,” Zoya added.

  “Serious enough to send a security automacube after us, perhaps?” Brinley’s smile did not hide her obvious worry. “They have done that before.”

  “So we hurry onward. Roe are drawn by noises, right? So this pounding the door open will attract any of the things which can hear it. What was that place where we are headed?” Paul asked.

  “External Repair Station V-2210 and the three hanger bays which are nearest to it,” Zoya replied. “None of this looks like that area yet.”

  Gretchen drew out her pistol.

  “What if it is my momma who comes?” Zoya asked.

  Gretchen paused and the pondered what Zoya had asked. She holstered her pistol. “This may be tricky, but we will do everything we can to rescue your mother.”

  “Continue to follow me,” Doctor 147 said and began to roll away down the dark passageway.

  “There is a ninety degree turn a little ways ahead, and then it opens into a large open and empty area,” Zoya said. “It looks like a rough-in area for a production center, or something but without the equipment. That was where Brinley caught up to me and where I realized I could not do this alone.”

  “No darkness for us,” Paul said as the fusion pack’s light was switched on.

  “Are Roe drawn by light?”” Gretchen asked.

  No one knew.

  They made the corner and walked out onto a ledge which was one level up from the deck below. There were permalloy grid footbridges crossing over the area below. Large pipes crisscrossed the deck below, the walls of the area were semi-clear permalloy with a dull light behind them, and ductwork interlaced the ceiling. In the distant corner of the lower level were doors which led away.

  The ledge circled the perimeter of the large room until it reached a ramp which led upward out of sight. The ramp was directly above where the doors were on the deck below.

  “Neither of the apparent exits from this area are in the direction we need,” the automacube stated. “However, the ramp upward offers the elevation needed.” The machine then rolled along the ledge toward the ramp.

  They climbed the ramp, which was an engineering marvel. It was moveable by several huge pistons. Paul could not tell what would be revealed if the ramp were lifted into a different position. At the top of the ramp, the deck was painted with wide yellow warning stripes. The chamber they entered hummed with working machinery. There were horizontal cylinders, about two meters in diameter installed on the side of the chamber. They had permalloy mesh over their ends, and spinning apparatus inside.

  “This is a ventilation management and adjustment location,” Brinley commented. “Or even a control room. These fans move the air from place to place in the duct systems.” She looked at a small control board where a chair had once sat. “There is an artificial intelligence system functioning here.”

  “Yes there is,” the display replied. “I am TSI-4588C5, why are you here?”

  Brinley responded, “What is your function?”

  “Why are you here? Answering is required,” TSI-4588C5 asked.

  “We are looking for my momma who was lost,” Zoya stated. “We were at External Repair Station V-2210 and heading for a hanger bay, when we were attacked. She was badly hurt and infected.”

  “Security Oversight has been notified of this crime,” TSI-4588C5 stated. “Personnel Management had been alerted to the missing person. This is not External Repair Station V-2210. Vanguard Atmospheric Control has been notified of this incident.”

  “This machine is connected to the lattice. I think it best…” Brinley stated as she back away from the controls.

  “Yes, I am interfacing with the other artificial intelligence systems of the Vanguard. My compeers are responding. Atmospheric Control reports all systems within normal operational parameters. Personnel Management has acknowledged report of missing person. They have referred matter to Security Oversight. Awaiting response and instruction from Security Oversight.”

  “Brinley, what does this mean?” Paul asked nervously.

  “Please tell me a direct route to External Repair Station V-2210,” Zoya asked of the AI.

  “No. Security Oversight is responsible. Awaiting orders,” the AI replied.

  “We need to leave. Which way?” Brinley said to the automacube.

  “Follow me,” Doctor 147 replied and started to roll away.

  The large ramp groaned as the pistons began to move it out of position. The air circulation pumps reversed direction and strong currents struck against the people.

  TSI-4588C5 then stated in its emotionless voice, “Security Oversight’s commands initiated. Containment of infectious vectors begun. You will remain here until security staff arrives.”

  “Run for it!” Brinley yelled. “Or be trapped here!” She grabbed Zoya’s hand and they sprinted toward the slowly moving ramp. When they reached the end they leaped over it and into the deck beyond.

  Paul and Gretchen followed. The ramp was nearly half way up as they vaulted over it.

  The white automacube moved surprisingly fast as its six drive wheels rolled it along. The appendage arm on its top folded flat to the body. It cleared the closing ramp with a few centimeters of space between it and the ceiling. It landed hard on the deck, but righted itself and continued on.

  “The CPO knows for sure where we are now,” Brinley stated. “The habitat guards, and that AI…we are in danger!”

  They all raced along and back to the ledge around the large room. They then went out across a footbridge to where they could descend to the deck below.

  A blue automacube appeared from the direction of the pressure door where they had left the habitat. Behind it was a red automacube. The ledge was not large enough for them both to traverse side by side. The blue automacube rolled past the footbridge, so the red one could pass it.

  Reaching the deck level, Brinley and Zoya jumped over some large pipe work
s, and looked back. Paul and Gretchen were right behind them.

  The red automacube fired in rapid secession, just as the medical automacube was nearing the base of the stairs. The projectiles struck hard into the sides of the white machine ripping into its interior. It flipped onto its side and then tumbled down the remaining stairs. Fluids were leaking out of it and puffs of smoke came forth as internal parts fried out.

  Gretchen, squatting behind the pipework, leveled her pistol at the attacking red automacube. Just as she acquired the target and squeezed the trigger, she heard the sharp reports of weapon’s fire from next to her.