Forbidden System: A Benevolency Universe Novel (Fall of the Benevolence Book 1)

by David Alastair Hayden

  “I can manage,” Gav said. “For a chance to explore this temple…I will find a way.”

  Tal stared at him incredulously. “Seriously?”

  Gav laughed. “Archaeology is everything.”

  “What he really means,” Rina said, “is that for him the Ancients are everything. He doesn’t really care much about digging up any other bits of history.”

  “Fair enough,” Gav said with a wry smile.

  “We won’t be able to get a signal from you at the depths we need to hide,” Enic said. “We’d have to surface.”

  “Wait seventy-two hours, then come up just far enough to ping me,” Gav told him. “I’ll ping back if everything’s safe. Don’t scan for them. They might detect a scan.”

  The ground was fast approaching.

  “Better head to the airlock,” Tal said. “You crazy bastard.”

  “I’m downloading all the scan data we’ve gotten so far to your chippy,” Rina said.

  “Thanks.”

  “The energy and material readings from the temple still don’t make sense,” Enic said. “They seem accurate, though.”

  “All the more reason to take the risk,” Gav said. “Keep sending me data as long as you can.”

  They all wished him luck as he climbed down the ladder into the small airlock on the bottom of the ship. With Octavian’s help, he strapped on an incredibly heavy backpack. It was stuffed with survival basics, food and water taking up most of the weight. He wasn’t carrying much in the way of archaeological equipment. That kind of in-depth study would have to wait.

  Octavian piped a series of pleasant bleeps.

  “He wishes you well, sir.”

  “Thank you, Octavian.”

  As the insectoid cog scrambled up the ladder and sealed the hatch, Gav double-checked his neural disruptor and his plasma pistol, to make sure they were secure in the holsters he’d fixed onto the spare antigrav belt.

  “Ten seconds, sir. Maxing airlock pressure.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Gav placed the antigrav in his enviro-suit on standby. He took deep breaths and focused his mind on the temple below, so he wouldn’t think about the plunge. He didn’t care much for heights, and he hated doing antigrav drops.

  The pressure in the airlock squeezed uncomfortably against him, until it leveled off just below the limit of what his enviro-suit could withstand.

  The ship slowed—then shook and rattled as it struck turbulence. A moment of panic made him doubt his plan. Had he traded his life for a mere chance at glimpsing an Ancient temple that he knew nothing about, other than it existed and was important enough to be mentioned at another site? But then there were those strange readings on the temple…

  “Two…one…drop!”

  For a brief second, the ship nearly paused in the sky. The airlock door below his feet dilated open. The pressure system expelled all the air, and he shot out like a bullet toward the wrecked Krixis ship and the hard, uncaring ground three hundred meters below.

  Chapter Five

  Eyana Ora

  Eyana glanced around the room. There wasn’t much to work with. Her options seemed limited to the fifteen Krixis spacesuits hanging on the wall and a large locker bolted onto the floor in the far left corner.

  She was certain she could fit into one of their spacesuits, given that the Krixis were nearly twice her size. “I think the spacesuits are going to be my best bet.”

  “Not an option, Ana.”

  “Why not?”

  “Their suits are automated. The moment you put one on, it will lock into place around you, then it will deploy a shabby catheter and a breathing tube.”

  “The suits are big, though. I think I could squeeze around to avoid the catheter.”

  “Maybe, Ana, but if something goes wrong… Let’s put it this way, we’ve already lost a few agents who tried to use one of their suits.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. And keep in mind, the Krixis breathe in CO2 when they first start using their suits, only switching to their oxygen byproduct later. So the only oxygen you’ll have to breathe is what you can trap inside the suit.”

  “I always forget that they can breathe either one. Okay, so that option’s out.”

  The ship shuddered, then all the vibrations ceased, save for the quiet hum of the ship’s ion engines. For a brief moment, Eyana was weightless and began to float upward, but then the ship’s artificial gravity kicked in and she returned to the floor.

  They were in orbit.

  “Shit!”

  She raced over to the locker, which was big enough to fit two of her comfortably, lying down. If it was empty, she might have a little more room than one of the spacesuits would provide. She squatted in front of it. “Activate maglock!”

  The bottom of her boots held magnetic locking mechanisms that could clamp to the ship’s deck.

  “Won’t work, Ana. The magnets can’t bond to the organic material.”

  “Reverse antigrav then. And deploy helmet.”

  Suddenly, she became incredibly heavy as the antigrav system rooted her in place with three G’s of force. At the same time, a helmet expanded out from the back collar of her Arco 38 mesh battlesuit and locked into place. Though it could provide some protection in combat situations, the helmet’s primary purpose was for use in low-pressure or toxic environments.

  The ship’s boarding ramp deployed then folded up into a safe position, exposing the back section of the vessel to the vacuum of space. Eyana grabbed the handle of the locker with both hands as the air exploded outward. The spacesuits on the wall turned momentarily into flags, except for one poorly attached suit that shot out of the ship.

  The suits dropped back down. All the air was gone, but the ship’s artificial gravity was still working. They probably couldn’t control it section-by-section. Silky decreased her antigrav back until it was only in ten percent reverse. The power meter in her HUD stopped racing downward.

  “How much oxygen does my suit have?”

  “Currently fifty-seven minutes, Ana.”

  “That won’t last nearly long enough. Maybe they’ll close the compartment back up now.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on that.”

  “If I slow my breathing and you reduce the oxygen to the lowest amount I’d need to survive…”

  “You could extend your supply to last ninety-eight minutes. Given our current speed, it will take them five hours to get far enough outside this system’s gravity well to make the jump to hyperspace. You’d never make it.”

  The locker had a numeric keypad, but just in case, she pulled on the handle. The top didn’t budge.

  “Would you like to share a moment of honesty, Ana?”

  “About how I missed my window of opportunity with the locker? Cause if I could open it now, the air would go out, and all I’d have is a hiding place. But if I’d gone to the locker first, before we entered orbit—”

  “The locker would only have bought you an hour at best.”

  “So this moment of honesty… You just wanted to tell me I’m screwed?”

  “Putting it that way, Ana, I’m thinking I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “No kidding. The locker is still a good place to hide though. Besides, there may be something in there that could help me.”

  “According to my scans, the locker is empty.”

  “So what’s it for then?”

  “Storing…stuff?”

  “Yeah? Good call, Silky.”

  “You know, Ana, alternatively, you could try to break out of this section and enter the rest of the ship. Of course, you’d need to use an explosive charge. That door is bolted securely from the other side.”

  “I only have three charges, but I like it. Let’s take this fight to them!”

  “I thought you might want to, Ana. Infiltrator Protocol Handbook, Rule #2. Always be in control.”

  “I’m going to wreak so much havoc on this ship, the Krixis won’t have time to stop and find me
.”

  “I like it, Ana. You could even kill them all to foil their plan.”

  “Only if I have to. I want to find out where they’re heading so I can alert the Benevolence about this uber weapon.”

  “So how do you want to proceed, Ana?”

  “If I put the charge against the door, is there any way to keep them from seeing it so they won’t know the blast is coming?”

  “You want to perpetuate the ruse of there not being anyone in here? I think spacing this section shows they’re plenty suspicious, Ana.”

  “Suspicious, yes, but not certain. Sowing doubt is important. Rule #7. I’ll have a much better chance of surviving if the enemy is dealing with chaos.”

  “In that case, plant it on the bottom right corner of the door. Their cameras have a bit of a blind spot there, and if you position yourself just right, you can hide the device while you’re setting it.”

  She patted the locker. “And then you can scramble their video feed as soon as I move away and hide in here.”

  “I’ll make it look like a glitch.”

  “Thanks, Silky. Now I just need to get into this locker.”

  “It’s only a three-digit passcode, Ana. And they use a base-six number system.”

  “That’s not exactly the best security available. Can we crack it?”

  “I can’t directly interface with their systems, Ana. You’d just have to try random combinations. I can provide a list starting with the numbers Krixis favor most.”

  She took a deep breath and considered her situation. The Krixis still hadn’t raised the plasma window or withdrawn the boarding ramp. They were more than happy to leave this section exposed to space during their journey.

  Eyana glanced at a text window in her HUD, containing the list of all the possible combinations for the locker, starting with the most likely. This would be so much easier if Krixis computers worked like human ones. Then Silky could interface with it and find the correct combinations in seconds. Not that it would be easy. Systems always had defenses. It was just that Silky was exceptionally good at beating those defenses.

  She started tapping number combinations. As she finished each, the number disappeared from the text file.

  It took fifteen minutes to get lucky, but she finally guessed the right combination. A click sounded in the locking mechanism and the lid of the locker rose every so slightly. She pushed it back down then pulled off her backpack. She withdrew one of her three hand-sized, explosive charges and headed toward the door.

  “Ana, I’m not certain how much damage this locker can withstand. There’s a slight chance the explosion on the door could—”

  “I understand the risk, Silky.”

  “Of course, you do.”

  She knelt and placed the charge on the bottom corner, angling it slightly upward. The explosion would blast away from her and into the hallway of the ship. It should be more than powerful enough to take out the door, but not so strong that it would blow a hole in the ship’s hull, especially at its current angle.

  She checked for nearby enemies in her locator display. “That one halfway down the hallway, will the blast hit him?”

  “Unlikely, Ana. But all of the air will get sucked out of the hallway in a rather violent fashion. He might get ejected into space, depending on how fast they can raise the plasma window and how quickly he can grab hold of something sturdy. He’s got a chance since the ship’s artificial gravity is still on.”

  The plasma window, if they got it back up in time, could prevent the air from leaving, but it wouldn’t be strong enough to hold in any objects moving fast enough.

  “Charge is set. On my mark, fuzz their cameras.”

  “Ready.”

  With a devilish smile, she rapped her knuckles on the hard as steel, mahogany door. “Now!”

  She rushed to the storage locker, entered the three-digit passcode, and climbed inside. She slammed the lid shut, and the lock reengaged automatically. She saw the Krixis in the hallway rushing toward the door, having heard the sounds. Another one entered the hallway farther down.

  “I can’t scramble their cameras for much longer, Ana.”

  She triggered the charge.

  Chapter Six

  Eyana Ora

  With a neural twitch, Eyana deployed her Zan-Z force shield from the emitter strapped to her left forearm. The shimmering field normally expanded out to a meter-wide disc capable of absorbing several incoming plasma shots. But in this case, the sensors in the emitter limited the shield’s size to fit the space available and increased the density instead.

  Eyana curled into a ball and hunkered behind the shield, in case something went wrong.

  The charge exploded with a muffled bang.

  The ship quaked, and air evacuated the hallway, howling as it tore through the jagged hole punched into the door and poured out into space. As the locker shook violently, Eyana worried that it would be ripped free from its mooring to the floor.

  She watched her locator. The red dots representing the two nearby Krixis insurgents slid down the hallway. A loud thump sounded as the first reached the door and stopped. The wind turned from a howl to a whine. The second, now halfway down the hallway, also came to a stop.

  There was a ripping noise, and then the wind resumed its howling. The first red dot faded away as it careened through the back section and out into space. The second red dot started moving again, slowly at first, then with speed. Another thump brought the howl to a whine again. With a slow tearing like a tree splintering, the second red dot passed through the door, then faded away.

  The intensity of the winds decreased, and the locker stopped shaking. Eyana winced, thinking of what must have happened to the insurgents. Then the winds ceased, and everything went still and quiet.

  “Vacuum?” she asked.

  “Not quite, Ana. The plasma window engaged before that could happen, and the other rooms on the ship have remained hermetically sealed.”

  “How much atmosphere’s left?”

  “Sixty percent in the entire ship, but the atmosphere in this section and in the hallway is too thin for you to breathe. It will take time for the ship to restore those areas to normal levels, assuming they wish to do so.”

  “I don’t see why they would, given the circumstances.”

  “I agree, Ana.”

  “Any chance they’ll replace the atmosphere in the other sections with carbon dioxide?”

  “Unlikely, Ana, since they started with oxygen. They would only switch to carbon dioxide if the oxygen level was depleted below twenty-five percent. And that’s assuming they have carbon dioxide tanks, which I doubt.”

  Eyana powered down her force shield. “Any structural damage to the ship?”

  “None that I can detect using a level three scan, Ana.”

  “Increase the scan to level five and tell me what you find.”

  “Processing…”

  She hated it when Silky said “processing.” It always got on her nerves. Probably because ever since their first mission together, when Silky had saved her life with advice and quick analysis no normal chippy could have managed, she’d always thought of him as a friend…a disembodied friend, but a friend nonetheless. So whenever he said he was processing, it made him sound like nothing more than just another computer, a primitive one at that, and something less than her dearest friend.

  What a joke she was. Her closest friend…her only friend…was a chippy. And though she had been the one to decide Silky was male, she hadn’t bothered to give him a holographic avatar, visible within her HUD, as was the fashion these days. It just didn’t seem right to “see” him.

  Such was the life of an infiltrator in Empathic Services. It was easy for her to connect with people but difficult to handle any sort of relationship. She couldn’t help but read everyone’s feelings, their every shift in mood—good and bad—all the time, picking up every unvoiced annoyance, every suppressed desire. So she preferred to be alone, either in a crowd or an isolated l
ocale, or to be off on the fringes of the galaxy, studying the enemies of the Benevolency.

  “Okay, Ana, my check is complete. Powering the scanner back down to level three. As expected, the charge caused no structural damage whatsoever. In fact, the hole in the door isn’t as big as you might have anticipated. You’re going to have to squeeze through.”

  “Are you saying I’m fat or that the hole is that small?”

  “I’m not stupid, Ana. The hole is quite small.”

  “Un-huh.”

  “The ship is on red alert, Ana, and the crew is armed.”

  “Is the locator correct on their positions?”

  “Yes, Ana. The level five scan verified its accuracy.”

  According to the locator there were three insurgents on the bridge at the front of the ship, two in engineering which was close to her, and four split between two other rooms in the midsection. She used her eyes to point those last ones out to Silky.

  “What are those two rooms?”

  “I believe, Ana, that one is their version of a galley and the other is a break room or perhaps private quarters.”

  “Okay, I’ve got to get out of here and into someplace safe, where they can’t get to me easily and can’t risk evacuating the oxygen.”

  “I know just the place, Ana. Atmospheric control. It’s easily defended and critical to the ship’s operations. And while they could pump the air out, we’d have a chance of overriding their controls.”

  “Silky, you’re brilliant. That’s perfect. Where’s it located?”

  “Ah, that’s the rub, Ana. Atmospheric control is the small chamber just before and below the bridge.”

  The ship was primarily single level, except for the bridge which jutted above the sensor pods and, behind them, the atmospheric control station.

  “Well, there’s no one there right now. That’s a plus. And I can take them all out from there if it comes to it.”

  “Yes, Ana, but the problem will be getting there.”

  “I’m invisible, and I’ve got a force shield and a plasma carbine. I can make it. Have faith.”