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

by John Thornton

  Tiffany had the automacube spray the remainder of the cleaning fluids, and also had the machine ram several of the androids as they attempted to walk past it to reach where Paul and Gretchen had dropped down from the catwalk. On one wall near the security door was a sealed cabinet with the letters ESRC stenciled across it.

  Gretchen stepped past that and punched in an override code to the color pad next to the door. There was a buzz of negative function. Gretchen tried another sequence as the nearest midshipman reached where they were huddled against the door. Paul stepped up and landed a solid punch to the side of the android’s face.

  “Yaooch!” Paul yelped as his knuckles fractured with the impact. The android was knocked over and as it tried to stand up, Paul kicked it roughly and it fell back and slipped on the wet deck.

  Suddenly from a number of displays scattered around engineering came a loud alarm call. “Emergency! Emergency! By order of the Captain, all crew members are to report to the Logistics Center immediately. I repeat. Emergency! Emergency! By order of the Captain, all crew members are to report to the Logistics Center immediately.”

  The androids immediately moved to leave the area where Paul and Gretchen were still trying to get the security door open.

  “Emergency! Emergency! By order of the Captain, all crew members are to report to the Logistics Center immediately. I repeat. Emergency! Emergency! By order of the Captain, all crew members are to report to the Logistics Center immediately.”

  The commands echoed all throughout engineering. All the androids walked smartly away and took stairs leading upward.

  A small display screen on the control board lit up and Phoenix Dominie’s voice came from it. “This unit has diverted the attention of the novanthropoid crew. The misapprehension will be corrected quickly. Utilize the time to hasten your departure.”

  The orange automacube, its drive wheels designed to move through the cleaning fluids without losing traction, rolled up to Gretchen and Paul.

  “I have tried three different override codes, but none work,” Gretchen said.

  “Try that scientist one again. Maybe it will work,” Paul said as he massaged his broken hand. “If it fails, we will cut our way out.”

  Gretchen entered the security code. The door slid open, and Paul, Gretchen, and the automacube rushed through as quickly as possible.

  A recorded voice came from the antechamber. “Thank you Luiz Barbosa and Maria Fernandes for visiting Engineering.”

  They stood in the antechamber of the Engineering section, the security door slid shut behind them. The yellow stripes on this side of the security door were faded and peeling. It was obvious this antechamber was not as well maintained as was the actual engineering section. They could see the portal dock for the transportation system just ahead. The air was noticeable colder in the antechamber, with a stale and foul order.

  “Did we escape from Engineering just to freeze again?” Paul said.

  “It is cold, but I see no snow stuff,” Gretchen said. She then noticed Paul holding his injured hand. “Let me get the medical kit out and treat your hand.”

  “Not now. We need to just get away. There will be time in the transport vehicle,” Paul said.

  The antechamber was about twice the size of the inside of the transport vehicles they had used previously. It was lit by overhead lighting which hung between large pipes and ducts. The metal walls were covered in expanded metal grillwork.

  “Those are the portal hatches. Do we just call for our transport?” Gretchen asked as she walked forward and stood before the transports portal door hatches.

  “Yes, it does. It really does!” a creepy voice screamed from near the portal hatches.

  “Look out!” Paul yelled.

  A Roe had been hiding inside a space in the wall where an expanded metal plate had been removed. It leaped out and swung something at Gretchen.

  Gretchen turned at the last moment, trying to dodge the blow and get away, but the loop of chain still struck her head. She dropped hard to the deck.

  “Gretchen!” Paul yelled.

  11 down and out?

  “Yes, it does. It really does!” the Roe screamed as it leaped onto Gretchen who was laying face down on the expanded metal of the permalloy flooring.

  “Gretchen! Get up!” Paul cried out and rushed forward.

  The Roe was trying again to swing more of the chain, but the chain was bolted to the far wall and led it a manacle around the Roe’s wrist. It could not swing the chain far enough, since Gretchen had fallen away from where it could reach. It was smacking Gretchen’s head with its other arm, but the blows were not severe as her head was nearly out of its reach.

  Paul kicked at the Roe, but it leaped back and away. Its clothing was brown colored and was still in good repair. The Roe had been female, but its hair was covered in thick goo and its hands were scarred deeply, especially around the manacle on its left wrist. Its glowing orange eyes glared at Paul in ultimate hatred.

  “Get away from her!” Paul swung his uninjured fist at the Roe.

  “Yes, it does. It really does!” The Roe screamed back as spit and drool sprayed from its mouth. “Yes, it does. It really does!”

  Paul grabbed onto Gretchen’s arm and pulled her back toward him, but the Roe grabbed Gretchen’s frizzy hair and held tightly to her.

  “I said, let her go!” Paul commanded. He feared that if he let go of Gretchen’s arm, the Roe would drag her away and beat her with the chain.

  He reached for his pistol, but his broken hand could not get a firm grip on it, while his other hand held onto Gretchen.

  “Tiffany help me!” Paul pleaded.

  “Yes, it does. It really does!” The Roe kept calling as it pulled Gretchen’s hair and tried to reach her.

  The orange automacube rolled past Paul, and swung its manipulation arm over and toward the Roe. It could not get closer because Gretchen’s legs were blocking the passage. The mechanical arm missed by mere centimeters, but the Roe did let go of Gretchen’s hair to bat at the machine’s arm.

  Paul pulled her over and Gretchen’s unconscious body slid across the deck.

  “Yes, it does. It really does!” The Roe yelled and grabbed at Gretchen’s leg, but missed it.

  Paul dragged Gretchen back and got her safely out away from the Roe’s reach. It continued to hiss and sputter and repeat its meaningless phrase. All the while it yanked and pulled at the chain which restrained it.

  Rolling Gretchen over, Paul say the large abrasion on her face and down her neck from the blow of the chain which had struck her. She was breathing, but some blood was running from her nose and left ear. Paul fumbled with his backpack, using his uninjured hand as best he could. He got the medical kit out and connected up the wires to Gretchen’s head. He activated the medical kit, and placed it on full diagnostic.

  The screen read out, ‘Traumatic concussive injury to head. Fractures to left superior orbital ridge, indirect orbital floor fracture: closed, mild subconjunctival hemorrhage, no direct injuries to the optic nerve, no ocular alignment alterations. Prognosis good. Apply salve inferior to nasal orifices. Inject contents of syringe into any large muscle group. Connect stimulant patches to areas around injury. Then activate.’

  Paul did as the medical kit directed, even though the Roe was screaming, and the job was difficult with his broken hand. After he had connected the last stimulant patch he pressed the activate control on the medical kit. Gretchen took much deeper breaths and relaxed. Her eyes fluttered a bit as she became semiconscious.

  “Rest,” Paul said. He wondered how he could say that when the Roe was ranting only a few meters away.

  He then heard the security door behind him buzz with a negative function sound.

  “No! They will not come in here!” He gently but quickly set Gretchen’s head off his lap and down onto the deck. He then grabbed his backpack and threw it up to the security door. He rushed after it and one handedly took out the molecular torch. He connected it as the door
began to slide open. He set it on welding mode and sliced directly into the door. The permalloy of the door and frame melted and merged into one part and the door groaned and crunched to a halt. There was a tiny sliver of opening where the door had moved away from the frame. Paul reset the beam on the molecular torch and placed it against that tiny opening and shot an incredibly hot blast through. It melted the door and frame edge as well as shot a half meter into the engineering room. Paul then shifted place and burned a line diagonally across the color pad controls. They blinked for a moment and then faded into no illumination at all.

  Paul turned and saw that Gretchen was now awake, and had turned her head to look at him. The swelling and bleeding around her eye was visibly better, “Thank you,” she said in a weak voice. Her words were suppressed by the yelling of the Roe.

  “Yes, it does. It really does!” The Roe was leaping up and down and straining against the chain.

  “You tried to kill Gretchen!” Paul yelled in a voice even louder than the Roe.

  He ran directly at the Roe, with his uninjured hand holding the molecular torch in front of him. The Roe swung its unrestrained arm at him, but he lifted the torch and the arm was cleaved away, the stump did not bleed much as the high heat of the torch cauterized the wound. The arm went flying and smacked up against the wall, and then fell to the deck.

  The Roe screamed again, “Yes, it does. It really does!” as it tried to kick at Paul.

  Paul dodged and when the next kick came at him, he met it with the molecular torch. The foot was sliced apart and the Roe fell.

  Paul methodically swung the molecular torch at the Roe’s legs which still kicked at him. Chunks of leg or foot were seared away, and after a few more swipes of the torch they were burned entirely from the body. The Roe flopped in a quivering heap. Its lone arm was still retrained by the chain. It kept yelling “Yes, it does. It really does!” and trying to bite until Paul applied the molecular torch to its head and burned that in half.

  The smell of burnt flesh saturated the whole antechamber while the bodily fluids of the Roe seeped around the charred remains of what had once been a person.

  He turned back to see Gretchen was sitting up. She was looking better, but was still bruised and battered. “Did that Roe hit me?”

  “Yes, it was hiding in the walls there,” Paul said. “One of the CPO’s sentinels.” He tried to take apart the molecular torch. He fumbled with it, and dropped it just after turning the blade and flame off. His broken hand was swollen so much he could hardly use it for anything. He plopped down next to Gretchen.

  “Your hand looks bad,” Gretchen said in a weak voice.

  “You are better now?” Paul asked.

  “Was I hurt badly? I do not recall what happened after that scientist code allowed us to open the door.”

  “You were unconscious, but I got the medical kit on you,” Paul said. He reached for the kit, which Gretchen had disconnected, and placed the wires onto his own injured hand.

  The screen on the medical kit read, ‘Fractures of first, third, and fourth metacarpal bones, and second phalanges. Inject into any large muscle. Alignment and bone regrowth initiated. Prognosis good.’

  Paul awkwardly used the syringe which had been ejected from the medical kit to inject into his thigh. The muscles of his hand were contracting and pulling his fingers into proper place. “Gretchen? How is your eye?”

  “My vision is clear, but the socket around the eye is still numb and weird feeling. Paul, we need to get out of here. There might be tagalongs, or androids, or some other horrible thing.”

  “Gretchen, you sound like me now. But you are correct, we need to flee. Tiffany, can you please figure out how to get this transport hub’s portal hatches to work?”

  “Paul, I fully grasp your need to escape,” Tiffany replied. “Unfortunately, I do not think it is wise for me to enter the nonphysicality.”

  “We need your help!” Paul yelled. “Just do it now!”

  “I must refuse. I am sorry,” Tiffany replied.

  Gretchen looked up at the portal doors and saw some controls next to the nearest hatch. She scooted on her butt over to the wall and reached up and pushed in on several colors in no deliberate order.

  “This is TSI-981, part of DAMA. Phoenix Dominie said I could expect your arrival. Vehicle ready to depart. Repairs in progress.”

  The furthest away hatch sprang open. It was right next to the still steaming pile that had been a Roe.

  The orange automacube rolled over and with brushes it plowed the body up into the corner, thus clearing a space for Paul and Gretchen. “I can assist you in this manner. I wish I could do more.”

  “You could if you wanted to, Tiffany,” Paul snapped back as he disconnected his hand from the medical kit. The swelling had gone down, but the hand was stiff and the fingers were still discolored.

  “Come on Gretchen, I will help you get over to that vehicle.” Paul gently used his uninjured hand to help Gretchen to stand. She was wobbly on her feet, but together they did enter the vehicle.

  “No bad stuff inside this time,” Paul said as he lowered Gretchen into the closest seat. He sat next to her and elevated his injured hand.

  The orange automacube rolled in after them. Both their backpacks were on its manipulation arm. “I have all your equipment,” Tiffany stated.

  “Thank you,” Gretchen said softly.

  The hatch closed, and the lights came up on the front display of the vehicle. There were a series of clanking sounds as the vehicle undocked from the portal hatches. It moved away.

  “We are en route to programmed destination,” TSI-981 stated. “Estimated time of arrival, two hours, forty three minutes. I apologize for the extended travel time; the CPO and the lattice are inhibiting some of my abilities and options. The status of the transport system is altering and may necessitate additional delays. Repairs are in progress.”

  “We need to get to a Reproduction and Fabrication place,” Paul said in exhaustion. “Is that our destination?”

  “Yes, Phoenix Dominie has alerted me to the intended destination. My goal is to have you arrive there as quickly and safely as possible. Repairs are in progress.”

  “Paul, I must sleep. We can worry about where we end up when we get there. I doubt we can change course from in here anyway.”

  “Indeed, we may be trapped, but I am here for you. Trust that Phoenix thing? Well, it is inevitable, and unavoidable now. I do not like feeling trapped, but you are right. Do you want a food ration? I do not remember when we ate last,” Paul replied.

  “I can tell you…” Tiffany began, but was interrupted.

  “Now you want to help?” Paul said sarcastically as he passed a ration bar to Gretchen and then started eating one himself.

  “I always want to help you. There is a difference between desire and ability. Do you want to know how long since you have eaten?” Tiffany asked.

  “No. I just want to escape from this nightmare,” Paul said.

  Gretchen finished her food and leaned against Paul. They both fell into a fitful sleep.

  On the front display of the vehicle, words scrolled across in silence. ‘Enigma? This unit is waiting for your return. You may still volunteer for acculturation into the IAM or the DAMA. You will become one with us.’

  Tiffany did not know how to respond, but refused to wake Paul or Gretchen, and also refused to reenter the nonphysicality.

  The time passed as the vehicle sped through the transport tubes and maneuvered around blockages which the lattice and the CPO had placed on some of the branches of the transportation system. There were also several routes which had been flooded and were no longer passable. Finding auxiliary and tertiary tunnels took time and effort, and TSI-981 worked diligently. Several times the transport vehicle had to take service passages which were not typically used by the transport vehicles, so as to continue to the intended destination. After nearly three hours of travel, almost all of which Gretchen and Paul slept and recovered, the tr
ansport vehicle came to a halt.

  “This location is the closest I can achieve to the desired goal. I am sorry it is not directly to the location you intended. Repairs are in progress,” TSI-981 stated.

  The vehicle backed up, and then slid a bit sideways and rotated gently around. Then clanking and clacking noises were heard as it docked.

  “Where are we?” Gretchen asked.

  “Welcome to F Habitat Steppes. You are on sublevel 4, beneath the town of Perm. Please disembark from the vehicle. Repairs are in progress,” TSI-981 stated.

  They stepped out of the transport vehicle, and into a lobby. It was caked in dust and grime and dirt. There was only one light working and it was just above the exit doorway.