She stepped back as the rustling of clothing signaled the arrival of her new guests. She kept one hand on her pistol, just in case. The first through the door was a man shorter than she was but easily three times her weight. He was wearing long, voluminous robes embroidered with gold thread in intricate patterns. He was sweating profusely under his thick wattle and along his bare forehead. Wisps of thin, white hair peeked from under a tight burgundy cap on his head. She could hear him panting from down the airlock tube.
The man’s painful gait seemed to take him forever to enter the receiving hall of Sweet Liberty. He crossed the corridor and placed a fat hand on the far wall, lowering his head and trying to get his breathing to steady. Alice stepped to him and raised a hand to see if he needed help. His thick arm swept up from beneath his robes and held her off before she could reach him. He pointed back with a meaty finger towards the airlock.
“Please … help … son…” The man said between strained panting breaths. “Help … him…”
Alice turned back to the airlock, readying herself for an injury. She saw movement at the end of the connector and stepped closer to the door. What came through the airlock was not what she had expected. The fat man was clearly human, but the creature who stepped into the airlock was definitely not. He was taller than Melaina by a few centimeters, and wider as well. Instead of thick rolls of fat, the alien was muscular, with arms longer than a human’s, and wide shoulders. Its skin was gray and appeared thick like rubber. The neck was wide with a fan display of bony ridges. Most striking, though, was its face.
The creature was hairless above its domed forehead. Wide gray eyes stared out over a perfectly symmetrical face. A lipless slit of a mouth completed the familiar design of the face. It blinked vertical slits over watery eyes. Melaina stared with her mouth open as she watched the alien step closer. It took her a few moments to notice it was carrying large bags under its arms. It appeared to be struggling to carry the heavy luggage.
“Can you help me?” the creature asked. “They are heavy.”
The voice was higher in pitch than she expected. It sounded innocent and young and made her new maternal instincts flare. She rushed into the airlock and reached for the largest of the bags. The luggage was very expensive and weighed far more than she thought wise. Relief spread across the gray face as she hauled the bag into the corridor. As soon as it was inside, the creature dropped the bags it was carrying and turned back to the airlock.
“Be careful!” the fat man said. “Do you know how expensive that set was?”
Melaina turned to see the fat man leaning against the wall. He had regained some of his composure, but was still sweating profusely. He wiped his forehead with the long sleeve of his robe before raising his arm to point back down the airlock.
“Now the rest, Bric,” the man said. “I told you to bring it all.”
“I am sorry, Father,” the alien replied, lowering his head and stepping towards the airlock. “It was too heavy to bring into the airlock all at once.”
“Wait a minute,” Melaina said, stepping between the alien and the airlock. “This isn’t a pleasure cruise. How much more do you have? We need to keep this door open and ready.”
“It’s just a few more bags, my dear,” the fat man replied, stepping closer. She could smell the sweat from his pores as he moved closer. It was masked by an expensive perfume, but the sweat was stronger. “My son, Bric, can retrieve them in a few moments. Please … uh … step aside … dear lady.”
The alien boy stepped past Melaina with an apologetic expression on his strange face. She stepped aside to let him into the airlock and moved closer to the fat man.
“Melaina Petros,” she said to the man. “Doctor Petros, Chief Engineer.”
“Albert Wilhelm Holcombe,” he replied. “I am sure it is a pleasure … um … Miss Petros.”
Melaina decided she didn’t like him. She had met his type when she was younger, mingling at her father’s parties. He was a wealthy fop, more interested in his appearance and the trappings of wealth than the reality of the world around him. She wondered how he had managed to stay alive for the last six years of the Ch’Tauk invasion.
“Mister Holcombe, we need to clear this space. The captain is trying to—”
“Yes, I met Mister Jakes on board my ship,” Holcombe interrupted her. “Tell me … um … Doctor Petros … um … how an obviously fascinating woman such as yourself met up with a man of … Captain … Jakes’ reputation.”
“It’s a long story,” Melaina answered, wary of his knowledge of Connor’s past. “Now, if you could get these bags, we can get you into quarters and clear this corridor.”
“I trust … um … you have first class accommodation?” Holcombe asked, a smile twisting the jowls of his face. “Of course … um … I’m just kidding. We’ve been stuck in a safe room for the last few … weeks. We’ll be happy with anything.”
“Good,” Melaina said curtly. The man’s speech pattern was beginning to annoy her. “We’re short on luxury around here. Our crew just recently left and the maid hasn’t cleaned your room yet.”
The alien boy had returned with three more bags under his arms. Melaina noticed his long fingers wrapped around the elegant handles. The boy was not sweating or panting in any way, he just seemed awkward and clumsy under the weight of the luggage. Melaina grasped the handle of the nearest bag and lifted, once again surprised by the weight. Bric widened his arms and picked up two more bags. Melaina watched as Holcombe chose the smallest of the bags and lifted it with some effort.
“Well, my dear … um … shall we?” Holcombe asked, peering down the corridor as if trying to find a cabin assignment.
“Of course,” Melaina replied, pushing past the fat man. “Right this way.”
She glanced back at the boy with pity. If this man claimed to be his father and he was treated this way, how much had he endured during the last few years? She made a decision and turned sharply to the left to an adjacent corridor. A few more turns and she was standing before a door near the middle of the ship.
“These quarters used to belong to a friend of mine,” Melaina explained while tapping in a code on the door panel. “We called him Rhino.”
The door opened to a room destroyed. There was no furniture left in one piece save for an upturned cot in the corner. What appeared to be food was smeared on the far wall near the bathroom door. The room smelled of body odor and unwashed laundry. Holcombe’s face seemed to pale as he looked into the room. Bric stepped past his father and entered the room, setting the bags down atop the remains of a dresser.
“It’s the best we have, I’m afraid,” Melaina said as Holcombe tentatively stepped into the room. “As soon as we leave Terpsichore, I can see if we have anything more to your liking.”
“Miss Petros … um … I don’t mean to be … rude, but…”
“Doctor Petros, Mister Holcombe,” Melaina said, palming her hand to the controls. “Sleep tight!”
She closed the door and locked it. The last sight she saw as the panel slid shut was the pale face of Albert Wilhelm Holcombe turning a splotchy red with anger as Bric looked around the room. There was a faint hint of a smile on the boy’s face.
6
“Notions of space battles against alien races may be romantic, but the reality is a bit grittier. Mostly it’s just running and shooting. Somebody always gets hurt.”
Lee Pearce
Unpublished Interview Notes
The persistent shockwaves vibrating through the walls and door made standing nearly impossible. Connor had slid his pistol back into the holster at his hip and was using both hands to hold on to a chair. His team was trying to make a stand against the relentless attack but having no luck. Jakes had hoped to catch the beast unaware and destroy it before he could be cornered, but Mendel and Parker had made that impossible. He made a mental note to toss Parker to the creature at the first opportunity. If nothing else, the ordinance stored in the man’s pockets might be enough to de
stroy the monster.
Movement that did not involve the shaking of anything not bolted to the floor caught Jakes’ attention. He twisted to see Tuxor, standing tall and straight, by a control panel lit with the yellow light the twins caused when they were manipulating the electric currents of a computer. The amphibian seemed to absorb the shock of the sound attack within his powerful legs. He was waving to the captain with his lower arms. Jakes released his hold on the chair and staggered over to the big alien. Tuxor pointed to the screen to show Jakes what the liquefied entities were showing.
A display depicted the room they were in as an overhead diagram. Thick orange lines outlined the control room, while deep red colors indicated the three doors leading to the custom environment areas. More lines streaked out from the center as the blueprint pulled away. A pulsing green dot indicated the creature outside the door. The twins were matching the pulses to the sounds emanating from the corridor. Jakes braced himself in time with the vibrations.
Connor looked up to Tuxor, confused; there was nothing on the screen he didn’t already know. Tuxor pointed back to the screen and Jakes followed his thick, flat finger. A second green dot had appeared in the far left quadrant. It was moving slowly towards the room they were in. Jakes estimated they had less than a minute before the second creature arrived. His mind raced as he tried to find a solution.
There was a break in the scream from outside. Jakes supposed even monsters needed to take a breath. He stepped quickly past the bodies of the former technicians to where Parker was leaning against a table. He tapped the smaller demolitions expert on the shoulder, startling him. Jakes waved the man back to the display and helped him to his feet. Parker had a gash along his left calf that made his leg unreliable. He leaned on Jakes as the two moved to the panel. Parker looked at the display. Jakes watched as the realization of what was coming widened the man’s eyes. Connor pointed to the left doorway and pointed to Parker’s left leg. The man always kept shaped charges along the compartments of his trousers. Parker nodded and limped to the door, aided by Tuxor.
Mendel had taken up a position behind an overturned table. Jakes walked to him just before the howling began again. If his plan was to work, he needed the big man ready to fight and run. Eli Mendel had graduated college with a Master’s degree in philosophy and literature studies. Somewhere along the line he had taken up target shooting. A year before the fall of the Confederacy, his targets had turned from clay pigeons to political figures. He and Parker had met on the job that had landed them in a Ch’Tauk labor camp and the two had become inseparable. When Jakes went looking for a crew for the Sweet Liberty, the two men had joined up immediately. Over the last two years, though, Parker’s instability had made Jakes think twice before asking the duo on missions with the Corsairs. He needed Mendel more than Parker, so the two stayed on board, but more and more as passengers.
Using a cribbed sign language he had developed with his team, Jakes mapped out the plan for the big man. Mendel nodded and pushed the table closer to the vibrating door. He braced his shoulder against the table and took aim at the door with his rifle. Jakes could see him cycle his ammunition in the barrel magazine and select an armor piercing round. While the big man braced himself, Jakes hustled to move bodies, chairs and other debris from behind the big man. He needed a clear path for Mendel to move when he activated his plan.
From the other side of the room, Tuxor waved to Jakes that they were ready. A sudden thick vibration ran through the room. Jakes realized the second creature must be just outside. He had been wondering about the torn-apart crew of the station. One of the creatures was powerful enough to tear a man apart when directly in front of them, but to do the destruction all around them, it would take more power. How many of the creatures were roaming the halls and where had they came from?
Bracing himself behind a panel, Jakes signaled to the team to get ready. He held up three fingers to indicate the countdown. Parker had moved around the control panel, and now crouched painfully near Jakes. Mendel stared through the aiming reticule of his rifle at the door. When Connor lowered the first finger, Tuxor moved to the other door with the canisters. The thin trickle of the liquid helix leapt from the panel towards the two cylinders. As Jakes lowered the second finger, Tuxor capped the tubes and bent low, turning his back to the doorway he had just left. As the last finger came down, Jakes saw Parker’s finger twitch.
A blast of heat and debris accompanied even more pressure from the door. There was an eerie moment when the sound of the combined howling stopped. Smoke and flaming metal rained down around him as the remains of the door settled to the ground. Tuxor stood and pressed his hand to the right door panel. The panel slid open smoothly and the alien stepped through. Jakes stood looking at the remains of the door behind them for just a moment. He couldn’t see any movement beyond, so he reached down and grabbed Parker by the shirt. The smaller man was hauled to his feet as Jakes began to run to the door. Connor could feel Parker’s shoulders twitching and realized he was laughing even while stumbling and in pain.
Mendel waved his hand as Jakes passed, indicating he was ready for his part. As Jakes passed the panel on the wall, he stopped and passed Parker off to Tuxor. He stared at the panel on the wall while his head cleared from the explosion. He tapped the panel and pulled up a sub-menu. Finding the instructions he wanted, he pressed the code and palmed the panel. He didn’t bother to look back as the door they’d entered from slid open. An impact from the sound wave pushed him from the room and into the ornate corridor outside. Without the metal door in place, the howl was intensified, and Mendel needed to brace himself against the table.
The creature that entered the room was a nightmare come to life. Larger than Tuxor, the beast was muscular under tattered, rough clothing. It had long, stringy gray hair that partially covered a drawn and colorless face. Vaguely human in shape, the beast peered into the room with dark eyes that seemed lifeless and dull. Beneath a smashed nose was a wide mouth, opened wide and emitting the deadly howl. The creature wore no shoes, and its filthy green trousers barely covered thick, muscular legs. The skin of the creature was pale and torn in places, revealing suppurating wounds along its neck and chest. At each wrist were thick metal manacles attached to heavy chains. Jakes had seen the creature in his dreams, but the sight of it now, less than ten meters away, gave him chills.
An explosion of light and smoke erupted from Eli Mendel, firing his rifle at a rapid pace, trying to find a soft spot on the monster. The creature jerked as the thick, jacketed bullets tore through its body. A lucky hit at the throat seemed to stop the howl and Jakes took a breath. Mendel scrambled to his feet as the creature reached up with long bony fingers and grasped its throat. The big man stared for a moment and the creature looked straight at him. Jakes screamed at Mendel despite the earplugs, and Mendel brought the gun back up and fired three more shots. One of the bullets ripped through the creature’s wrist, eliciting a thready howl. Mendel flipped his thumb, switching his ammunition once again and backed away.
The creature stared down at its hand hanging limply from its pale arm, yellow fluids seeping from the wrist. It reached across its wide body and grasped the palm of the damaged hand, pulled, and ripped it from the damaged wrist and tossed it aside. A flash of reflected light caught Jakes’ attention even as Mendel backed through the door. Jakes slapped the outside panel and the door slid shut.
Mendel looked to his captain in astonishment. Both men were breathing hard and sweating from the explosions and heat. The corridor was still cool and the sweat dried to Jakes’ skin, chilling him to the bone. He turned away from big Mendel and looked to the rest of his team. Tuxor still carried Parker under his lower shoulder and the twins’ canister with an upper arm. He had managed to hold on to the hollow tube weapon somehow, and now clutched it in his only free hand.
The corridor they were standing in was wide, with thick carpet under their feet. Sloping archways on either side ballooned out at the base, accommodating virtually any ali
en physiognomy. Gold filigree traced the edges of the walls and sketched out alien symbols. It was a corridor built for the wealthiest and most decadent creatures in the galaxy and Jakes hated every centimeter. He staggered away from the door and down the hall. There were no exits save for the single wide door at the end. He imagined the alien elite who had once travelled down this hall, eager to indulge their fantasies with the wealth of their home-worlds.
A shudder moved through the deck behind him. The creature was still moving and able to howl. The sound was not as powerful now, but he could still feel the force of it through the carpeted floor. Jakes turned back to the team and waved them on. Parker was nearly able to stand on his own despite the pain, but he held on to Tuxor’s arm for support. Mendel stepped closer to his partner and took him under his own arm, and all four of the men limped down the hall to the large doors at the end.
Connor reached the door first and slapped the control panel. When the doors did not immediately part, he looked back to Tuxor. The amphibian stepped over and opened the cap on the canisters. Once again, the double helix of the liquid creatures leapt from their holder and splashed across the panel. In moments, the doors began to move. There was a flash of yellow light as the twins wrote out a message. Jakes stepped closer to read.
“The intelligence is confused. It has performed what was programmed but the bodies are not playing.”
Connor looked at Tuxor for any help with the translation, but the blue amphibian stared back placidly. Jakes shook his head and walked to the slowly opening doors. As the thick panels parted, Jakes peered through the opening. What he saw was not what he expected, but upon reflection, he realized he should have. He stepped through the doors and promptly sank several centimeters into the swamp.
The Adventures of Connor Jakes: Masks (The War for Terra Book 1) Page 5
