Battlecruiser Alamo: Malware Blues

by Richard Tongue

   “Senator Harper?” Bradley said.

   “For a while during the War, he was my commanding officer. We still kept in touch, and he knew that I wanted to get away.” Shaking his head, he said, “I was hoping to meet Kristin again. I haven’t seen her since she was knee-high. Now we’re going to rescue her.” Pausing, he said, “I’ve heard that she went rather wild.”

   “That’s putting it mildly.”

   “I was surprised when I saw that she was commissioned.”

   Glancing at Cooper, Bradley said, “Kristen Harper is something of an experience. Nevertheless, I do count her as a friend.”

   “If I’ve said anything out of turn…”

   “Don’t worry,” Cooper said.

   Poking his fork into one of the larger pieces of chicken, he said, “I should also apologize about Scott, as well. I should probably not have dragged you over here, but I knew she would not get any peace until she had spoken to you both.”

   “She tried to hijack a shuttle,” Bradley said, “and waved a gun in my face. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t have a lot of sympathy for her.”

   “Quite understandable,” Powell said. “Nevertheless, that woman is dead, and left in her place is a very scared young woman, with the hatred of the whole ship resting on her shoulders, and a man with a gun following her around. Knowing that everything she has dreamed of, worked for, fought for is gone, and for a reason she cannot understand or explain. Perhaps I find it easier to feel sympathy.”

   “Looking at it that way…,” Bradley said.

   “I feel sorry for her. I just don’t trust her,” Cooper said. “The safety of this ship is my responsibility, and I can’t take any unnecessary risks. Letting her work in the elevator airlocks is reasonable enough, and I know that Quinn will check everything she does, but I’ve got to be careful.”

   “I know, and I agree,” Powell said. Looking down at his plate, he said, “This is beginning to congeal. Can I try a bit of yours, Barbara? I’m curious.”

   Over the loudspeaker, a voice called, “Bridge to all stations. Prepare for emergence in twelve hours. That is all.”

  Chapter 7

   Every day, just before they all turned in for the night, Ryder gathered her officers together and asked the same questions. Every day each of them reported that despite all of their efforts, they had found no way to escape the dome in which they had been sealed. Many of the crewmen were on the verge of giving up, going through the motions of their duties.

   Salazar looked around, and said, “This is getting us nowhere.”

   “Have you got any better suggestions, Sub-Lieutenant?” Riley asked.

   “Any time now, the guard will come in with the rations. We should jump him.”

   Sighing, Ryder said, “I thought we’d settled that. Any attempt to break out of here must be done by stealth. The guards are under constant observation, and the alarm will be raised in a matter of seconds.”

   “Which means that speed has to override stealth. If we move quickly enough, we might have a chance.” He gestured at a snoring technician on the far side of the camp, and said, “If we don’t try something now, we never will.”

   “He’s right,” Merrick said. “As far as we can tell, we’ve been stuck here for the better part of ten days. If there was any other way out of this dome, we’d have found it.”

   “The odds against you are terrifying,” Riley said. “Even if we managed to get past the first guard, and I’m not sure that we would, we’ll be heading out into a complex we know nothing about, with no-one waiting up in orbit to help us.”

   “Someone will come,” Salazar insisted. “Don’t ask me how I know, but I know that Alamo will come and get us.”

   “In which case they should easily be able to overwhelm Wyvern, and we’ll be rescued anyway.” Ryder shook her head, and said, “I know how you feel, Sub-Lieutenant, I really do, but I can’t jeopardize the lives of this crew on a stunt.”

   “We can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Merrick insisted.

   Riley sighed, and said, “He might be right.”

   “Et tu, Steven?” Ryder asked.

   “It occurs to me that as well as prisoners, we’re also hostages. Tramiel and his happy band might be planning to barter our lives for their freedom, and while we are stuck down here, we have to go along with that.”

   Nodding, Ryder said, “You realize that there is a good chance that they have overheard all of this. We haven’t found any of the detectors, but that just means they were positioned by an expert. They’ll be ready for us.”

   “They probably will at that.”

   On the far side of the dome, a door opened, and a quintet of guards stepped inside, two of them carrying crates, the others with rifles trained and at the ready. Salazar rose, walking over to the crate, with Merrick standing by his side.

   “Stay clear,” one of the gunmen said. “Well clear, Sub-Lieutenant.”

   Without warning, Riley tossed his canteen into the air, vaguely in the direction of the approaching guards, and Merrick raced forward, Salazar just behind him, diving at the two guards with the crates, trying to use them as a shield. The bottle was a distraction for the half-second they needed to get close and, as bullets cracked out all around them, Salazar dragged the guard to the ground, knocking him unconscious with a carefully-aimed punch, and snatching his pistol loose.

   “Stay still or he dies!” Salazar said. “Drop your weapons!”

   Over to his right, Merrick had subdued his assailant, and was raising a pistol towards the gunmen, saying, “Shoot us, and at least two of you die as well. And there are thirty people to take our place.”

   Two of the gunmen looked at each other, nodded, then sprinted for the door, the third one firing a pair of shots, giving covering fire as they got away. Merrick and Salazar fired together, both shots flying wild as they successfully made their escape.

   “Quickly,” he said. “After them.”

   “Wait a minute,” Riley replied. “This was far too easy.”

   “Salazar,” Ryder began, before he interrupted.

   “Ma’am, this is the nearest thing we’ve had to a chance. We can’t afford to pass it up. Even if all we get out of it is a look at whatever is on the far side of that door, it will be worth it.”

   “Go. Be careful.”

   Merrick led the way to the door, pistol in hand, Salazar close behind him. After a brief glance, Riley went after them, while Trent and Ortega started to tie up the unconscious guards. They paused at the threshold, a corridor heading left and right, with no obvious clue to guide them.

   “Left,” Riley said, and they walked through the door, Merrick taking point, Riley in the rear, with Salazar looking around, trying to find anything they might use as a landmark. The walls were bare, no sign of decoration, and the floor was plain, featureless metal. Another turn to the left, and a third, and there was still no sign of anything new.

   A brief glimpse of blue light shone through the ceiling, a skylight fifteen feet over their heads revealing the ocean that surrounded them. Riley paused for a moment, looking around, shaking his head.

   “Ten minutes, and no sign of anyone. I don’t understand it.”

   “We spent long enough walking to our cell when we arrived,” Merrick said. “If this place is such a maze, maybe they don’t mind if we get lost. That might even be the idea, to discourage us from any further escapes.”

   “No, that can’t be it,” Salazar said. “Why risk their men needlessly? There has to be something more going on.”

   A loud howl echoed down the corridor, coming from up ahead, an unearthly cry that seemed to rattle their souls to their foundations. Salazar raised his pistol on instinct, then looked at Riley.

   “What the hell was that?” he asked.

   “Maybe we should go back,” Merrick said.

   “You two were both eager to
come out here,” Riley replied. “We need to investigate. I’ll take the lead, you can cover me. Keep your eyes open.”

   The group continued down the corridor, far slower than before, their eyes darting around at every shadow, every hint of movement, every unexplained sound. Salazar held his pistol at the ready as they walked, watching Riley at the front. The noise returned, a second howl, and once again they froze, looking at each other, before Merrick finally broke the silent deadlock.

   “Maybe it’s psychological warfare. Some sort of recording, a projection of our fears. Designed to scare us,” he said.

   “That sounds more plausible than some alien warrior beast lying in wait for us,” Riley said. “Move out. I’ll keep point.”

   They turned around another corridor, and found a sealed door waiting for them at the far end. Salazar breathed a sigh of relief at the sameness of the passage, but now they heard another sound, footsteps heading their way.

   “Someone’s on to us,” he said. “We’ve got to get through that door.”

   Sprinting forward, Salazar beat the others to the panel, looking for any clue about how it might open while Merrick turned to cover the rear. The corridor was bare, empty, not even a hint of any potential cover to protect them. Any firefight that took place here would be a matter of statistics, not skill. Whoever had the most weapons would win, and with two half-empty pistols between them, it seemed unlikely that the Wyvern contingent would have the advantage.

   Tapping the panel, Salazar turned to the door, looking for any reaction. There was no sign of a dataport, of anything he might be able to hack, but he didn’t have any equipment anyway. Just a standard dumb-fire revolver, and there was no chance that he would be able to shoot his way though.

   Peering over his shoulder, Riley shook his head as the footsteps grew closer, louder echoes from the far side of the corridor. Salazar turned to face them, resolving that at least he would take a couple of the traitors down with him, while Riley went to the door, rubbing his hand against the panel, trying to find any hint of a control panel.

   As shadows crept along the wall, a half-dozen figures racing towards them, the door slid open, and the three of them dashed through, sprinting into the dome beyond, ignoring the calls and shouts from the approaching enemy. With a loud clang, the door closed behind them.

   Turning to face the dome, the contrast with the one they had been imprisoned in could not have been greater. Filled with lush vegetation, insects buzzed through the air, and some small creatures skittered around their feet, heading for cover from the unfamiliar creatures.

   “Good work, sir,” Merrick said. “How did you do it?”

   “I don’t know, Sub-Lieutenant,” Riley replied, shaking his head. “Maybe I found some sort of hidden catch. Or this is some sort of a trap.”

   Nodding, Salazar said, “Maybe this is another dead-end.” He tried to peer through the undergrowth, but couldn’t see more than a few yards into the dense vegetation. The light began to dim, going from white to a dark green, and pinpoints of light began to emerge on the roof.

   “That’s impossible,” Merrick said.

   “A planetarium,” Salazar replied. “Whoever built this shelter wanted their children to know what it was like to look up at the night sky. If I had a datapad and access to a database, we could probably work out when it was built. All of the constellations will have changed.”

   Gesturing forward, Riley said, “Over there. Something in the undergrowth.” They walked forward, taking care not to trip over the vines and roots, and tucked in behind a bush found what Riley had seen. The corpse of a human, wearing a Triplanetary uniform. What was left of it, anyway.

   Eyes wide, Merrick asked, “What could have done that?”

   “Some sort of beast,” Riley said, looking nervously around. “No, that doesn’t make sense. This environment is far too small for an apex predator.”

   “Not dead long,” Salazar said. “No sign that any parasites have been at work.”

   “How could you tell?” Merrick said, his face turning green.

   “Easy, Sub-Lieutenant,” Riley said. “Keep it together.” He reached down, brushing away a plant to reveal a glint of metal. “A revolver. Standard service issue. Two bullets left.” Looking up, he said, “Whoever he was, he had a good shot at whatever killed him.”

   Another loud howl echoed around the dome, the three of them waving their pistols around in response, trying to work out where it was coming from. Whatever it was sounded as it might be close by, hard on their trail.

   “Maybe we should go back to the door,” Merrick said, the courage gone from his voice.

   “And turn ourselves in?” Riley asked.

   “They might have been trying to warn us about something. Maybe there are some sort of beasts in here. Anything might be trapped in here, and we’re stuck with them.” He turned from the door, then froze. “Something behind us. I saw a shape, larger than a man.”

   “I didn’t see anything,” Salazar said, then a shadow seemed to dance just on the edge of his peripheral vision, and he turned an instant too late to spot it. “Wait a minute.”

   A loud grinding noise echoed through the dome, coming from the direction they had come, the doors slowly opening. Without waiting for debate, Salazar raced for the undergrowth, the others following behind him, guns at the ready, a renewed howl sounding as they forced their way deeper.

   The light grew dimmer, and it became harder for the three of them to see each other, and almost before he realized it had happened, Salazar was alone in the jungle, pushing his way through the undergrowth, having to slide his pistol into his pocket and use both hands to force his way to safety.

   Something was chasing him, something huge, but with a new search party making noise, he had the desperate, guilty hope that the beast would concentrate on the easier targets and leave him alone. He continued to ease his way through the dense vegetation, no idea where he was going, only knowing that liberty was safety.

   A fusillade of shots rang out behind him, and he instinctively tried to duck, almost tangling himself up in a pack of vines, but as another howl, perhaps a little more distant, echoed around, he realized that he wasn’t the target. Though which was Riley and which was prey was impossible to tell from where he was.

   More shots rang out, and what sounded like a full-scale battle was in progress, a very human scream following a pair of shots in rapid succession. Something grabbed at his feet, and he fell to the ground, rolling as he dropped, raising his gun, before realizing it was just a creeper, tangled at the far end around a metal bar.

   In desperation, he scraped his hands in the dirt, revealing a narrow hatch. The bar was all that remained of the opening wheel, but as he tugged at it, it turned just enough to encourage him to further effort. As sweat dropped from his face, he strained to turn it again, the stubborn metal refusing to cooperate. Looking around, he found a long piece of dead wood on the ground, and slid it behind the bar, trying to lever it open, but after only a quarter-turn, it snapped into a cloud of splinters, sending him tumbling back to the ground.

   Merrick raced out of the jungle, head turned to the rear, swinging his pistol around towards Salazar, his eyes wide with panic.

   “Damn it, I’m on your side,” Salazar said. “Help me with this.”

   Looking down at the bar, the young officer nodded, reaching down to tug it open, the two of them struggling to work the ancient mechanism. Finally, with a loud crack, the lever began to turn, swinging around quickly enough to almost knock them to the ground, and the hatch pulled free, revealing a shaft that dropped away into blackness.

   “You first,” Salazar said.

   Peering uncertainly down, Merrick said, “Anything could be down there.” Another howl answered him, and the gunfire was now notable by its absence.

   “You’d rather stay up here?”

   Without any further argument, Merrick swu
ng down the hatch, scrambling down the ladder as quickly as he could. Salazar looked around, trying to find any sign of Riley. He heard a rustling in the undergrowth, heading towards him, and raised his pistol. An unfamiliar figure raced towards him, his face a mask of terror, but before he could reach the hatch, something snatched at his legs, sending him crashing to the ground, the crack of breaking bones followed by a last desperate scream.

   “Kill me!” he yelled, and as a series of razor-sharp tendrils leapt from the undergrowth, a larger shape behind them casting a terrifying shadow in the dim light, Salazar raised his pistol and pulled the trigger, putting a bullet in between the man’s eyes. He leapt down the shaft, hardly waiting to find the rungs of the ladder, and slammed the hatch down behind him, hoping that there would be safety in the darkness.

  Chapter 8

   Harper entered a new sequence of instructions into Wyvern’s countermeasures program, Steele looking over her shoulder, checking the data input. The workspace in the communications suite was cramped enough for one, never mind two people trying to occupy the same station. The hacker turned around, shaking her head,

   “Don’t you trust me yet?”

   “No,” Steele said, bluntly. “Your conversion was a little too quick for my liking. I don’t think you are the type to change sides so easily.”

   “Lieutenant, you wouldn’t understand most of what I’m doing anyway.”

   “She’s got you there,” Tramiel said, stepping into the room. “Go up to the bridge and relieve Kline.”

   “Aye, sir,” Steele said, her gaze lingering on Harper for a second longer than the hacker liked.

   “Are you going to be watching everything I do as well?” she asked.

   “Not much point,” Tramiel said. “Your reputation precedes you. I’m quite certain that, if you wanted, you could bring down the entire onboard network. I’ve got enough people working for me who’d spot it that you wouldn’t live through it, but Intelligence has undertaken suicide missions in the past.”