by Brett Bam
Moabi snatched at the boy as they passed each other and was alarmed at the unexpected weight he had to stop. It took him valuable time to halt his spin relative to the ship and adjust his trajectory to return. He raced at full throttle back towards the Ribbontail ignoring the tether. He knew with a panic in his heart that he had 30 seconds to get Kulen inside before he was killed by decompression. They would never make it. Kulen was as good as dead.
Docking Bay Security was a large department managed by the GASD. Kedesh Jericho burst in through the doors of the control office with a violence that made the already strained personnel in the offices jump with fright. The holographic displays showed nothing but standby images, the communication bands were static.
“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, thrusting his identification into the face of the CO.
“Um, there was some sort of power surge sir, all our systems are down. We’ve initiated a start-up, but it’ll take another minute before we have displays back.”
“There has been a prison break and a dangerous individual is loose in the dock. The Ribbontail must not be allowed to leave the dock under any circumstances. Get these systems up and running now mister!”
“Yes sir. We’re trying to sir.” The nervous CO turned back to his desktop and worked frantically, barking unnecessary orders at his staff. A slow minute ground by as Jericho chewed his lower lip and stood in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips, impatiently squirming.
The holo screens flickered on just in time to see the Ribbontail fire on the Otherc. Jericho wasn’t the only one who saw it, but his cry of dismay was drowned in the turmoil of noise that erupted from the room as the extent of the drama became apparent. Emergency calls were streaming in from every ship, irate and desperate crewmembers trying to survive the chaos. Klaxons sounded as emergency beacons began to flash on the displays. Most of the systems were damaged in some way or another. More beacons flashed every second as situation reports came in from station hands across the dock’s network. The office staff began shutting down fuel feeds and nutrient pumps. Air and water supplies were quickly sealed. Magnetic fields snagged a handful of drifting ships and stabilised them. As soon as the major disasters were averted the staff turned their attention to deploying the emergency fire and breach teams into the docks. Only once this was done was Jericho able to draw someone’s attention to the drama being played out by the Ribbontail. Weapons arrays were activated.
“Agent Jericho, sir. I think you should hear this.”
Jericho glared at the CO but left the console he had commandeered and stalked over. Ronid Jabesh’s image flickered in the console’s display.
“Investigator Jericho. I am Captain Jabesh of the Otherc. I have been fired upon by the Ribbontail. Captain Xristian is trying to rendezvous with a life pod ejected from the Protocol ship.”
A thrill rushed through him. The boy! He was in that pod! They had chased him from the prison well to here. He had left a strange series of blackouts along his trail. It was how they tracked him, but he had disappeared near the docks.
“Take out that life pod.” Jericho thrust his finger at the display and the CO hurried to comply. His targeting schematics flickered into life and the man jabbed his finger down on a large red button. Jericho watched with grim satisfaction as the pod burst apart under heavy weapons fire.
Moabi twisted his head at a bright flash of light as the pod was torn apart by kinetic bullets which shredded the metallic casing into ragged chunks of flying debris. He turned back to the boy cradled in his arms and stared in disbelief.
He was holding his breath! Moabi could not believe the evidence of his eyes and he blinked rapidly and stupidly. The young boy he was grasping in his hands was still alive after a minute of thrusting towards the Ribbontail. And was that a thumbs up gesture? That was impossible. A vacuum is the most hostile environment known to man. Without protection he should have suffered explosive decompression, his lungs popping like balloons as the air in them expanded suddenly, his blood boiling as the gasses dissolved into his blood came out of solution in the zero pressure. His skin should have blistered with expressed air bubbles and his ears and mouth spouted blood as he haemorrhaged internally. Moabi had seen these things happen, and his eyes had believed it more than he believed what he was seeing now.
Kulen’s hand shone brightly.
They were still another 40 seconds or so from the Ribbontail. Oscar was waiting for him to give the all clear before he re-pressurised the starboard holding bay. They came screaming into the holding bay doors with a precision that took all of Moabi’s concentration. He barked the all clear before they were through the doors, narrowly scraped through the sliding mechanisms and slammed into the crash mat. Air poured into the bay in a white rush. Moabi ripped his hood off and exhaled the oxylik as quickly as he could. The light purple liquid spilled messily onto the floor as Moabi expelled it from his lungs. He took a shuddering breath, enduring the spasms as he adapted to breathing oxygen from air again. Kulen was sitting up and holding his head, moaning. Moabi went to him his lips dripping purple liquid.
“Are you okay?”
Kulen lifted his head and Moabi was startled at the rainbow-hued eyes that flashed at him. The bright glow from Kulen’s glove was fading to a mirrored metal again. He seemed to be unharmed.
“Unbelievable kid, how did you survive that?”
“It hurt.” And now his eyes were green and normal.
Moabi shook his head and then stood aside as Curtis and Jack Mac came running through the dilating portal to help.
“He’s alive?” asked a shocked Jack Mac. Curtis went straight to Kulen and scanned him with her insert.
“Let’s get him to the med bay, quick as we can please.”
Moabi and Jack Mac supported Kulen between them and hustled down the corridor towards the med bay. “I can’t believe he’s alive. What happened?” asked Jack Mac.
“He came out of the airlock without exposure protection. I got him here as quick as I could.”
Jack Mac looked at him sceptically. “But you had him out there for a minute and a half! How the hellfire did he survive that?”
“He held his breath.”
Jack Mac looked sharply at Moabi and received a wide white grin. Jack Mac looked down at the silver glove on Kulen’s hand, it was glowing softly.
“What is that thing?”
Kulen lofted his head, his eyes flashing. “I killed him.”
They exchanged a heavy look and Moabi said, “Killed who?” He held Kulen’s face between his palms and looked him in the eye.
“Who did you kill Kulen?”
“Lutho. I killed Lutho Vol Max. He attacked me. I'm so sorry.”
Then Kulen hung his head and would say no more.
The second the Otherc was disabled in her berth, Dalys slapped the dissipater fans and they spread wide in seconds. She watched tensely as Moabi caught Kulen and started back towards the ship yelling for emergency medical help. Kulen was exposed to the vacuum. Dalys’ heart sank. If Kulen died now then she’d put them all at risk for nothing. She watched them on a monitor as they carried the boy to the med bay. She glanced at her displays and saw the docking bay’s weapons array re-aligning on them. Dalys saw the incoming alert and yelled into her comm. “Emergency manoeuvres, three second warning!”
She pushed at the flight pads, listening to the whine of the turbine increasing in pitch before she engaged the pads and the ship leaped forward. She twisted against the g-force and the Ribbontail swung around and blasted for empty space, dropping chaff and heat drones behind her as she fled. The missile cluster fired by the docking bays’ weapons array hammered into the countermeasures in a scattered series of silent fireballs.
Dalys knew they weren’t free and clear yet. This was a highly-policed sector of space. Surrounding the ponderous bulk of the main asteroid was a carefully controlled space filled with all manner of objects. Agriculture bubbles, the greenery of their crops masked by their
polarised domes, were scattered everywhere. Manufacturing plants buried in shards of rock, solar power generators, their reflective wings spread over tens of kilometres, entertainment and leisure spheres, crystal clear and shining with the garish neon blazing in their zero-g internal environments. Private homes of the super rich. They filled space for thousands of kilometres in all directions.
There was plenty of civilian traffic bustling around, but it was confined to narrow pathways marked by radio beacons hundreds of klicks apart. Immediate space was cluttered with plenty of delicate equipment and human lives that hung by a thread in a hostile environment. That meant it was all efficiently protected. The most serious problem would be the actual guardians, a large number of armament fortresses scattered randomly, and in some cases moving under their own propulsion, throughout the sector. They monitored space and were controlled by programs that scanned every inch of sky for vagabond craft just like the Ribbontail, and the second most dangerous threat of all, flying rock.
“Oscar, there are guns out there in front of us somewhere. Find them for me would you?”
“Aye Captain. Gamaridia is tracking us. They’ll have us in lock in a few seconds.”
Several alarms went off at once.
“Shit! Captain, we’ve got seven… no, eight guns active and tracking. We’re sitting ducks.”
“Hope everyone’s strapped in.”
Dalys leaned heavily into the flight pads, the muscles on her arms standing out against the strain. She gritted her teeth as she tried to fight a way through the swarm of floating civilisation surrounding them. They passed a solar generator close enough to tear and warp its tissue-thin reflective metals, and there was still no clear path through the mess around them.
Dalys needed that pathway clean and free so she could initiate escape velocity, this limping around carefully was going to get them killed. An agricultural bubble loomed in front of them and Dalys strained to shift around it. The flare of their dissipater fans was clearly reflected in the plastic polarised dome as they swept past at five thousand kph and accelerating.
“Skipper! Guns one, three and eight have released their salvos. Estimated time to impact is 18 seconds.”
“Hellfire and damnation!” Dalys felt the panic rise in her throat like bile, alongside it her adrenaline and determination roared in her ears.
“We do not die here today.”
A clear vector blinked to life on her display and she triggered the emergency thrust.
Everything went dark.
Everything was dark, which made no sense. No emergency lights kicked in, no hum of the drive, there was nothing but silence, then…
“Um Skipper? What’s going on? Why are the lights out?”
“It’s not just the lights, it’s everything. We’re out of power completely, must have been an EMP fired from the asteroid. They’ve disabled us.”
“But that means we’re flying blind! We could hit something.”
“Relax Oscar, just before the lights went out I had a clean vector and I boosted us in that direction. We’re in freefall so that means no acceleration; we’re still here so that means the missiles missed us. I reckon we’ve got a full ten minutes before they’re able to scramble a detail and another 15 before they reach us. Then they still have to get inside, which won’t be easy. We have some time to figure this out.”
Dalys placed her hand in front of her face but could honestly not see anything. The darkness was absolute. It was terrifying and claustrophobic and she forced her breathing to slow in an effort to calm herself.
“Skipper, what are our options?” Oscar was nervous, his voice trembled.
“Well, we could try get to the power plant and inspect it, but I can’t see how we can start anything up after an EMP hit.”
“We’re dead in space, they got us.”
“The hell they have. We need to get Curtis and the others up here. Don’t move for a minute.”
Dalys struggled out of her couch. It was difficult to do without the hydraulic actuators opening up and freeing her, but she managed it with a few awkward contortions. She floated, feeling her way to Oscars couch. She helped him free and they slowly worked their way across the RHS to the bulkhead, and finally the portal which was irised shut. They positioned themselves as well as they could and then applied pressure, a metallic screech told them the portal was opening, albeit slowly. It was pitch black on the other side too.
“This is going to take ages, I hope the others are okay.”
Dalys was beginning to worry. They had no options here. The emergency generator should have at least provided them with some rudimentary light and the ability to move around the ship. It was hardened against military grade EMP bursts, this shouldn’t have happened. A glimmer of white light sneaked into the gloom and they could suddenly see a little.
“Is that light?” asked Oscar.
“I think so.” Dalys had a small spark of hope in her voice.
“Where’s it coming from?”
Neither Oscar nor Dalys could answer the question. The light moved erratically, as if it was being held in a human hand which was coming closer.
“I think it’s Moabi or Curtis, they must have found a flashlight that works.”
“Awfully bright for a flashlight.”
Oscar was right, it was very bright. Dalys called out, “Moabi? Curtis?”
“We’re coming Captain, nearly there.”
The light was getting brighter and Dalys finally had the door open wide enough to get through.
Suddenly the light was right there in the staging area, and Dalys looked through to see Kulen standing in his dirty white prison issues holding his brightly glowing hand up, to light the way. Next to her Oscar grunted in surprise.
“What the hellfire is that thing?”
Then Dalys and her entire crew were standing around Kulen staring, with questions burning on their lips. Kulen looked around at them all and then at his hand. Without a word, he stooped and knelt to the deck. He placed his hand palm down on the deck of the RHS and closed his eyes. His hair was moving as if a wind was blowing, which was insane.
It is dead, this machine. The elegant lines of power and flux which flowed through it are gone and it is all cold plastic and steel now. The lines are still there, etched into the steel. The conduits and passages are all present, it is the substance which once flowed through those veins which is gone. And I can do something about that. I let the wind blow and I feel it flow from me and into the ship, filling it slowly, exploring and then surging and stopping again at junctions, gathering power for the next slip forward. Finally, the whole is full but still nothing has happened. No lights shine but my own. It is a pit filled with fuel, but to move the ship it must burn that fuel.
I find the Tokomak engines. A doughnut shaped space filled with potential. They need to be ignited. I stand suddenly and clasp my hands together. The room billows with wind strong enough for the others here to feel. I sense their alarm. They do not understand and are afraid. It needs to be ignited. I spread my hands and force them together sharply, cupping the wind, making lightning. The release of energy is strong enough for the others to see now. Dalys is entranced.
I clap my hands together again harder, and again, harder, and again with all my might. An ember burns in my hand, it crackles and is very small. I grasp it tightly, compressing it, forcing it into a tighter space. It grows warmer. I rub it between my palms and feel the heat take shape. From all over my gloved palm small pieces begin to flake, I rub them into the ember and it grows, and finally, when I have been rubbing harder than I thought I could, it ignites and becomes heavy. I drop it and it sinks slowly toward the deck touching like a feather on water. The air in the room whooshes as the spark ignites the ship. The lights flicker on, the air groans as it flows again. Consoles blink and activate and finally the Tokomak starts and the drive once again hums through the ship. It is alive again.
I have awoken it.
The wind is blowing powerfully in th
e small space. The force of it has knocked the others to the floor, and with thrust the gravity has returned. They lie cowering in the corners. I calm the wind and settle it, the bright light fades and dims and the wind stops howling. I stand still in the centre of the enlivened room and smile.
“What the hell is that thing?” asks Jack Mac from under a couch.
Dalys is the first to stand. Her hair is dishevelled and hangs in her face. Her mouth is open and she is breathing heavily. Her hand is at her belt buckle, but she did not trigger her field.
“We’re under thrust people. Get to your stations, now.”
The Ribbontail was coasting comfortably through open space. Their path ahead was clear. They were still well within the orbital field of the asteroid’s satellites but nothing was directly in their way. The whole Gamaridian Group had fallen silent and powerless, flinging their society into the cold dark. However, nobody noticed the darkness. The first thing they noticed was the sun. It was a warm blazing light dominating the heavens, far too bright.
“Oh, my god, I know what happened,” exclaimed Oscar and he bent over his console, fingers flying as he gathered data. Dalys was still staring at the brightest sun she had ever seen, wondering what it meant.
“What’s going on Oscar?’
“Hang on Skipper, I just need to make sure. Damn, look at that, I’m right.”
Across the displays ran a scan of each of the satellites near to them, and then further away. As the probe panned across the objects it was examining, Dalys saw nothing but darkness. None of these places had power. She could see a fire burning in one of the agricultural bubbles, a field of crops was alight. Then the scan came to rest on the main asteroid itself. It was a fair distance off and Dalys watched as Oscar magnified and then magnified the image again. The rock was dark, the power was out.
