The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle
Page 130
The hatch on the transport port closed with a thud.
The color pad next to the hatch was barely glowing, and the colors were all washed out. Two of the nine sections on the color pad were not even glowing at all.
“Tiffany? Would you please check out where we are and find out how close we are to that Fabrication place?” Paul asked as he pointed to the access port.
“I will not do that at this time,” Tiffany replied.
“So we head out without your help and no idea where we are going?” Paul said. “And that looks broken. I could repower it with the fusion pack, but why? The transport system only got us this far, so no reason to try that again. Where do we go from here?” Paul said, as he stretched out his hand. It was completely healed but his body felt sore and stiff.
Gretchen also did some flexing exercises. She too was now completely healed, but felt tired and worn.
“I think we were in this habitat before, but it did not look like this,” Gretchen said, “They called it Pampas, I think. Was that where Zoya started the fire?”
Paul replied, “I think so. There were some carnivores, predators which tried to kill us, but the town had a different name I think. I do recall some guard named Victor and his own predator which hunted us down. That was where the fire happened.”
“I was not present with you at that time,” Tiffany stated flatly.
“No, and you are barely here with us now,” Paul barked back.
“Then we had that medical automacube, Doctor 147 with us. It was a bad situation, but the habitat was pretty is some ways,” Gretchen said. “I think the town was called, Saretov.”
“That was not this place, unless like other times they are calling the same place by different names. It is too confusing. So where are we really?” Paul wondered. “We only have the word of that old AI telling us where we were dropped off. We have no way to confirm that with Tiffany refusing to help us.”
“The habitats are large, and it sounds like this one has at least two different towns,” Gretchen said.
“Assuming that AI was telling us the truth. At least we are not trapped in the vehicle, and it is not freezing, and I see no Roe right now,” Paul said. “A biological habitat will mean vicious animals.”
“It looks like there is only one way to go from here,” Gretchen said.
Paul pulled out a fusion pack and turned on the lamp. It brightened the area somewhat as the beam of light struck the walls. There were some falling apart charts on one wall, their long streamers of torn paper hanging down. On the other wall was a detailed engraving made right into the permalloy. “That must have taken some fine coordination to make.”
“Indeed. That is not stamped or impressed in the permalloy. It was not made when the permalloy was being spun or soft, but it is engraved, etched, into the surface itself. I am impressed,” Gretchen said.
Paul ran his hand over the engraving. The image was about two meters square and while it was covered in dust, it was still obviously there. It consisted of two distinct colors, silver and gold. The rest of the wall was a dull off white. Most of the engraving was swirls and curlicues of a decorative type. The center of the image was different. There was an oval shape which pictured a scene from a biological habitat. Gently rolling hills with trees on them were in the background, but the highlight was three animals of some kind which were shining gold color, even under the dust.
“Those look like some kind of bird,” Gretchen said. “Golden colored birds on a silver background. Is it just artwork, or does it mean something? The statues of Diana meant something, and we have seen murals of animals, so I think this might be more than just ornamentation as well. Any thoughts on this Tiffany?”
“The images in gold are remarkably like the historical records of birds of the order Galliformes, in the family Phasianidae,” Tiffany replied.
“They have a long tail,” Gretchen observed.
“Tiffany, you will help us now? So are they poisonous? Will they attack us? How big are they?” Paul asked.
“The records I have are limited. I have no indication these birds were a threat to humans in any way. As to size, the engraving is roughly 40% of the recorded size of the birds,” Tiffany stated.
“So I guess we just try to find where the Reproduction and Fabrication place is located so we can build the teleportation sending unit,” Gretchen said. “Unless you want to head back and find Brinley?”
“No. Gretchen, we have the data on those three potentials, those other colony ships. We have to escape. If Tiffany would help us, we could know where that place is. Searching for it has to be our choice.”
Gretchen approached the door which led out of the lobby. It was a bit different than others they had seen. It was permalloy, but banded with steel cross pieces. It had no powered controls next to it, at least none that were visible, but did have an operation lever.
“I also get anxious when we open these doors to the unknown. That last Roe nearly killed you,” Paul said and a few tears ran down his face. “Gretchen we must escape, but I am so tired to exploring, hunting, and being threatened.”
Gretchen pulled out her pistol. “I will open it, or you can, but I am ready this time. No surprises. I plan to shoot anything that looks like a threat.”
Paul pulled the lever and the door swung open with a loud grown and squeal. To his surprise, there was no Roe on the other side, and his heart slowed its pounding.
There were a few lights that flickered on. A rumble began and what had looked like stationary gloomy dark stairs began to slowly move. The steps were on two sides of a central rail all of which was covered by an arched ceiling. Arch supports were located every meter or so and gave an optically disturbing view of the passage upward. The segmented arches blocked some of the lights that sputtered and the shadows were not uniform or regular. Those few lights that were working did illuminate the escalator as it began functioning. On the left side, the steps moved upward, and on the right side they moved downward.
“Well Paul, we have a way to go,” Gretchen said.
“May I go first?” Tiffany asked unexpectedly. “I will not enter the nonphysicality at this time, but I can offer to go first in the physical world. In case there is a threat ahead, I can alert you.”
“Well, that is something anyway,” Paul said.
The orange automacube rolled onto the upward moving escalator and it positioned its drive wheels on the risers as they jerkily moved along.
“If this system fails, at least we can walk up, so it is better than an elevator or a vehicle,” Gretchen said. “No getting trapped on the escalator.” She kept her pistol out but balanced carefully as the movement of the steps was erratic.
At the first landing up, the doors on the sides of the landing were all crudely welded shut. ‘Do not enter’ was painted in red letters on one of the doors. The other had an odd symbol which showed three interlocking rings, and red paint had been used to slash an X across that more formally printed symbol.
“I say we keep heading upward. I am not too eager to cut open another door, and that old AI said we were on sublevel 4,” Paul stepped across the landing and onto the next upwardly moving escalator.
The automacube rolled after him, caught up to his position and then moved ahead.
The next level up was dark and unmarked. There was a landing and several small cubby areas which extended back about three meters, but no doorways, doors, or graffiti. This time the automacube continued to roll onward and the lifting escalator carried it up.
As the automacube rolled off the top of the escalator and the steps disappeared down into the floor, there was a screeching animal’s hiss.
Paul raced up the last few steps and drew out his own pistol.
Paul looked closely as Gretchen stepped up next to him. Both of them were aiming their pistols at the animals.
One turned sort of sideways and hissed. It was only calf high with four legged with a long tail. The one that hissed had black and gray striped short fu
r, with triangular ears, and sharp looking fangs. Others of the animals had different colored fur, but all were roughly the same shape and appeared to be the same species.
“The eyes are not orange. Not orange!” Paul said in shock. “They are not tagalongs, but they looked really mean anyway.”
The animals, several were the stripped grayish, but one was white with large black spots, and another was a multitude of blended colors, white, orange, brown, gray, and three of its feet were white tipped. Yet another was white with black splotches on its fur. They looked to be about twenty five centimeters in height and maybe forty centimeters long. Several were glaring at them, but others were licking their front paws and paying no attention.
“There is a clowder of animals, of the felis silvestris catus, variety in this location,” Tiffany stated. “I agree with Paul’s quick assessment, they are not tagalongs.”
“How dangerous are they? Poisonous?” Paul asked. “They are small, but they look like predators and there are a lot of them.”
“The historical records show that this species of animal was once a common human companion, referred to as a house-cat. There were once millions of them living with humans and sharing the human domiciles. Reports of injuries are rare and minor.”
“People lived with that predator? I know it is smaller than others, but it looks so mean!” Paul pointed his pistol to one of the cats which was still hissing at him, but it was moving away.
Then he felt something brush up against his leg. Paul froze in place and looked down. One of the predators was rubbing its head against his shin. It was placing one side of its forehead against his leg and rubbing at him. He was unsure what to do. “Gretchen, is it attacking me?”
The animal was overall grayish color, but Paul could see that was achieved because its fur was mostly whites and blacks in a striped pattern. Black bands around the legs, and down the sides. There were also flecks of brownish fur. Its ears were forward, unlike the ones that had hissed. It turned around and again rubbed against Paul’s leg. He was too afraid to move. The animal not only rubbed its forehead against Paul, but arched its back and rubbed its spine against his leg as well. All the while its tail was nearly vertical.
“It does not look violent,” Gretchen said. “That almost looks like a form of affection.”
“Paul, I believe that behavior is transferring pheromones and is not considered an act of aggression,” Tiffany stated.
“Pheromones? I am being marked or tagged by chemicals? So they can follow us?” Paul was more fearful. “Perhaps lead some larger animal to come and get us later? It reminds me of the animal from the elevator before we froze, just smaller, and that beast had killed something as big as me.”
“Paul, these animals are too small to do much by way of attack, but they might make good scouts and guards. Is that why they are here?” Gretchen asked as she swept her arm about.
The room where the clowder of cats was located was large, perhaps twenty meters wide, and maybe double that deep with a ten meter high ceiling where pipes, ducts, and other mechanical apparatus ran. Across the floor there were numerous boxes, crates, and large objects covered in canvass coverings. While the light shown in from where the escalator came to the room, there were also lights along the upper corners of the room, and some dotted lights set into the floor in various places.
“Regarding your suggestion that they may be guards or scouts of some kind, the historical record, even though it is fragmented and incomplete, does not have any significant accounting of these kinds of animals being used in that manner. The basic history says there were two varieties: domesticated and feral. There is not a work animal category, although as I said, the historical record is incomplete,” Tiffany added.
“Paul, these animals are not infected. Not a single one I see has the orange glowing eyes, and none have attacked us. Those few that growled and hissed I think were reacting in fear. That old escalator may not have been used for years,” Gretchen said. She looked back and noted that the escalator had shut down sometime while they were assessing the predator animals.
“These animals do not appear to be completely feral or wild, yet they are here outside of the actual biological habitat, so it is doubtful they are fully domesticated. It is curious that these are some of the few animals we have seen to be living outside of a habitat who have not contracted the infection,” Tiffany related.
“Tiffany, you are certainly more helpful now,” Paul said as he tried to step away from the cat who continued to walk after him and rub his legs.
“Paul, I will be as helpful as possible. I just will not reenter the nonphysicality at this time,” Tiffany answered.
“So if these small predators, these cat animals, are not a threat to us, can we just move onward and find what we need?” Paul said. “There are three large doors on the far wall, but I see no other exits. Tiffany, would you please help me survey this room for additional ways out, elevator, doors, ladders, or whatever else may lead us to where we need to go?”
“Yes, Paul, I will look at the physical layout,” Tiffany said and the orange automacube rolled around the cats and crates and began following the room’s edge.
A camera aperture lit up near the first of the doors. Then a display screen came on by the door.
“Remain where you are. There is a team heading to your location,” the voice stated. “Do not violate quarantine.”
“That does not sound good,” Paul said and slipped away to where the doors were located.
“My name is Torio,” the display showed a woman with short blonde hair, square face, and deep set brown eyes. “You will remain at your location until our team can arrive.”
“Torio, who are you?” Gretchen asked.
Paul slung off his backpack. He began taking items out.
“I am one of Constable Jeffry’s troopers on guard of the perimeter. I am manning the remote surveillance feeds. I noticed you when you entered this area. There should be no people in there.”
“Are you part of the Central Planning Office?” Gretchen asked.
“Constable Jeffry is an officer of the CPO.” Torio then held up her arm and showed the mark which indicated she was from F Habitat.
“I am not waiting for anyone,” Paul said as he fired up the molecular torch. “These doors are all sealed, and we need to get inside. Tiffany, did you find any other way to escape from here?”
“No. I navigated the entire border of this room, and unless the exit is well hidden, I could find no other ways out large enough for a human or an automacube. There are fourteen places where a cat may enter or exit. I did not fully investigate those places. These three doors, and the escalator down are the only exit points we could use,” Tiffany replied.
“Thank you.” Paul started the molecular torch and began cutting into the nearest door. All three of the doors were pressure doors, and were virtually identical in construction.
Gretchen rushed over to where Paul was working. “That trooper said a team was coming, we need to work faster.” She then took her own molecular torch out of her backpack and began severing the door’s seals on the opposite side.
With their combined efforts, the door soon gave way and they shoved it into the habitat.
It was dark beyond the cut off door. As their eyes adjusted, they could tell it was not completely dark. Looking up they could see the dim skylight glowing dimly high above them. They both knew it was nighttime in the habitat. There were some insect sounds and a far off yelp of some kind of animal.
“It is nearly, or just past, moon-night. That is, if this habitat is like Inaccessible Island was,” Gretchen commented. The silvery glow of the light from the sky tube did give some illumination to the habitat.
“I do suggest we reseal this door,” Tiffany stated. “It will not significantly delay our progress, and it will maintain the quarantine. Additionally, the animals which are behind the door will remain there.”
“Well, that is a good idea,” Gretchen said.
Paul, while he was complaining, was positioning the cut-off door where they could weld it in place again. He did not notice the gray stripped cat which had followed him out through the doorway. He and Gretchen quickly welded the door back into place, and while it was no longer a pressure door, nor a fully sealed door, it would serve as a barrier to anything of any size coming through. The three doors, including the one they had cut and welded back into place were in the side of a building. There were no other windows, doors, or things on the outside of the building. Just the three doors which had been sealed shut.
“Paul, we must be in that town they call Perm, but right at its edge,” Gretchen said as she looked around the side of the building. “There is a forest behind here and it slopes up. It is like where Zoya started that fire. The slope is as steep as the one I remember. I do not see any stairs up, and that would lead to the edge of the habitat and back outside. Where will we find that Reproduction and Fabrication facility, especially searching at night?”