by G J Ogden
Hudson and Liberty passed through the fracture in the hull using the scaffold that was already in place, and moved into the ship’s interior. In front of them a corridor stretched out as far as Hudson could see, illuminated by a long strip of intense LED lights.
“Nice of them to add lights for us,” said Liberty, moving ahead of Hudson, and running her hand across the alien metal of the wall.
“Most of the outer sections will have some form of lighting, either added by the RGF or left over from other hunters,” said Hudson, looking at the map to get his bearings. “But the deeper we go, the darker and more dangerous it will get. So, stay on your toes… Especially because Cutler will be coming after us.”
“Cutler and Tory,” Liberty corrected him, but then cheerfully added, “But, you got it skipper.” Being inside the alien wreck had put Liberty in an almost euphoric mood.
Hudson folded the map and shoved it back into his pocket, before glancing anxiously behind. He half-expected Cutler to already be there, weapon in hand. “Let’s move; and move quickly. We need to put some distance between us and Cutler,” said Hudson, seeing a phantom of Cutler Wendell in every flickering shadow.
“Cutler and Tory…” Liberty corrected again, this time putting greater emphasis on ‘and’. “She may be soft on you, but that won’t stop her from using that archaic pistol on me, given half a chance.”
“Fine, Cutler and Tory,” Hudson replied, mimicking Liberty’s stressing of ‘and’, before pointing towards where the corridors split off ahead of them. “We need to drop four levels, but carry on in this direction, at least for now. That should lead us into a larger open space. Then we check the map again and go from there.”
Hudson and Liberty moved off along the corridor, taking advantage of ropes and ladders that were already in place. However, after falling foul of a greased rope in the wreck on Brahms Three, Hudson tested each one first in case of booby traps. After twenty minutes they reached the end of the fourth steeply-descending corridor, bringing them onto the target level Hudson was aiming for. They both then dropped down into a shallow, hexagonal space with the approximate area of an aircraft hangar. An array of metal beams jutted out from each surface, some of which disappeared through the floor or ceiling. Others appeared to crisscross towards a spherical object in the center, which was about the size of an observatory dome.
“Wow, what is this place?” wondered Liberty, admiring the unique architecture of the space.
“I have no idea,” replied Hudson, grabbing the map again and sitting on his haunches. “At the RGF academy, they suggested that about eighty percent of these alien hulks were given over to power generation or distribution, and engines. The entire rear third of the ship is basically one giant propulsion system.”
Liberty went ahead while Hudson studied the map, muttering to himself while trying to make sense of the maze of corridors. The central sphere looked to be made from an almost glassy material, except that it wasn’t translucent. “This doesn’t look like any power system I’ve ever seen,” said Liberty. “It does sort of remind me of something, though.”
Hudson joined Liberty and then ran his hand along the smooth alien metal. He couldn’t detect any seams, as if the entire massive apparatus had been fabricated as a single piece.
Then Liberty clicked her fingers, “It’s like a neuron!” she exclaimed, turning to Hudson. “Imagine the central sphere as a nucleus with the metal beams as Axons,” she went on, as Hudson raised a puzzled eyebrow. “Perhaps this connects to other parts of the ship like synapses would do in a brain?”
“I hope you’re wrong,” said Hudson, uneasily. He stepped away from the sphere and returned to studying the map.
Liberty frowned, “Why do you say that?”
“Because if this thing has neurons and synapses and whatever that other thing was you said, maybe it used to think for itself,” replied Hudson, squinting at the epaper. “A thinking ship sounds pretty creepy, if you ask me.”
“Well, I think it sounds exciting,” Liberty countered, now placing her hand on the metal sphere. “Think about it; we don’t know even half of what the alien CPU tech is capable of. We’ve barely scratched the surface of its capabilities, so who knows what an advanced alien race could have already achieved.”
Hudson had stopped listening. He’d seen a flicker at the far end of the room, close to where they had emerged into the hexagonal space. He took a few paces towards it, squinting in the low light.
“What is it?” said Liberty, stepping to his side. Hudson could hear the tension in her voice.
Suddenly two figures rushed out of cover and hid behind one of the crisscrossed metal beams. Despite the gloomy illumination, Hudson saw the flash of metal in their hands.
“Hudson, look out!” Liberty cried, as a shot rang out and a bullet pinged off the metal deck a few meters to their side.
Hudson and Liberty dashed towards another of the metal beams to take cover, but in his haste, Hudson accidently dropped the map.
“Damn it, Tory, you missed him!” came the voice of Cutler Wendell.
Hudson watched as Cutler darted out from behind cover and took up position behind another beam. Tory followed close behind him.
“I’m glad your mercenary friend’s aim is as bad as her attitude,” said Liberty, as they both hid behind the beam.
“Somehow, I don’t think she missed by accident,” replied Hudson. Then he spotted an opening on the wall closest to them. He nodded over to it, “Let’s use these beams as cover and try to get to that corridor.”
Liberty nodded and moved out ahead of Hudson, while both tried to keep half an eye on where Cutler was. However, the mercenary had vanished just as swiftly as he had appeared.
Hudson followed Liberty, ducking under one beam and then the next. The corridor entrance was getting closer, and Liberty pushed on towards it, growing less cautious with each new step. Suddenly Cutler sprang out from the shadows directly ahead. It was as if he’d literally appeared out of nowhere. Liberty froze as the mercenary raised his weapon.
“Liberty, move!” Hudson called out. He made a dash for her, but he was too late; Cutler squeezed the trigger and fired. Hudson flinched as the crack split the air, and then Liberty jolted, as if hit with an electric shock. But as Hudson looked on, panic gripping his body and mind, he glanced back towards Cutler and saw Tory’s hand on Cutler’s arm, steering his aim off to the side.
“We’re not here for the girl,” Tory snapped, as Cutler glowered at her, clearly furious at her intervention. “It’s just heat we don’t need. Focus on the traitor; he’s our payday.”
Cutler angrily yanked his arm away from Tory, as Liberty finally came to her senses and ran behind the central sphere. “What’s gotten into you, Tory?” Cutler growled. “It makes no damn difference if she lives or dies; not in here.”
Tory clicked back the hammer on her revolver, “You’re forgetting why we’re here,” she hit back, with equal bite. “Just get the ex-cop; I’ll make sure the girl stays quiet.”
Cutler’s eyes narrowed, “Make sure you do,” he snarled, “I can’t have you going soft.” Then he moved off, circling around to where he’d seen Hudson run and hide.
Hudson kept a close watch on Cutler, but then saw Liberty peek out from behind the sphere. Tory was moving towards her, revolver held ready, hammer cocked. He was aware that Tory had pulled her punches twice already during their brief encounter, and he couldn’t bank on her doing it for a third time.
Reaching inside his jacket, Hudson removed the pistol that Tory had given him and clicked off the safety. He chanced a look around the pillar to check on Cutler’s whereabouts, when a sharp metallic chime rang out inches from his head. He ducked into cover again, and chastised himself for being so careless. Cutler wasn’t just a common thief; he was a skilled bounty hunter. Hudson knew he was lucky to still be alive.
“Come out, come out, Hudson Powell,” droned Cutler Wendell, “Just make it easy on yourself.”
Hud
son edged further along the pillar and tried to see where Liberty and Tory had gone, but his view of them was hindered by the sphere. “Shit…” Hudson cursed under his breath, as another round ricocheted off the metal.
“You can’t escape,” Cutler went on, as he continued to stalk Hudson, “I’ll make you a deal; give yourself up now, and I’ll let the girl live.”
Hudson caught a glimpse of Cutler ducking under a nearby beam, creeping ever closer, and he fell back. Across the other side of the room, he could now make out Tory, carefully stepping to the side, one foot over the other, edging closer and closer to the sphere. Then he saw Liberty dart from cover and kick the weapon from Tory’s hand, displaying the same agility she’d demonstrated in the bar brawl in San Francisco. Tory was stunned at first, but as Liberty pressed her attack, landing another kick to Tory’s stomach, sending her reeling backwards, he could see the shape of her expression shift. He’d seen the look before, in the wreck on Brahms Three, before Hudson had helped save Tory from another crew of hunters. It was raw, animalistic and cruel. The gloves had just come off.
Two more rounds pinged off the metal beam Hudson was pressed up behind, snapping his attention back to his own perilous circumstances. Pain stung his thigh and he reached down, feeling blood wet his hand. He hadn’t been shot; only nicked as the bullet raced past, but it had still been a lucky escape. He edged further into cover and grasped the pistol tightly, while forcing his breathing into a more regular rhythm. He was going to have to move fast, not only to save himself, but to help Liberty too. The young engineer could clearly handle herself in a fight. Maybe she was even a match for Tory Bellona in a hand-to-hand contest. However, Liberty was no match for a bullet from a powerful .44-40 caliber revolver.
“I’ll make you a better deal, Cutler,” Hudson shouted into the gloom. “Crawl back to that coward, Griff, and tell him to face me himself, and I’ll let you walk out of here.”
An insipid laugh reverberated around the room, “How are you going to do that, Mr. Powell?” Cutler called out, walking clearly into Hudson’s line of sight. “I hacked your manifest after you cleared the border checkpoint; you don’t even have any weapons.”
Hudson laughed quietly to himself. The reason for Cutler’s brazenness was now obvious – he thought he was hunting an unarmed man. Cutler was arrogant and overconfident, despite Hudson having bested him once already. He’d use Cutler's hubris against him again. Taking a deep breath, Hudson slid out from beneath cover, but kept the pistol hidden.
“You win,” said Hudson, as Cutler locked eyes with his. “I give up.” Cutler grinned, though Hudson hadn’t finished, “But I need to let you into a little secret first.”
“What secret is that, Mr. Powell?” said Cutler, strolling towards him with the casual menace of a corrupt jailer. “There’s nothing you can know that I don’t already.”
“Then let me explain…” said Hudson, aiming the weapon at Cutler and squeezing the trigger. Cutler staggered back as the bullet hammered into his thigh – Hudson hadn’t aimed to kill – and then dropped to one knee. However, incredibly, Cutler didn’t fall, and Hudson couldn’t see any blood.
Shit, his clothes must be armored, like Tory’s! Hudson realized. He squeezed the trigger again, this time hitting Cutler on his back. The mercenary curled into a ball to protect his exposed head, yelping in pain as the second round struck. Wasting no time, Hudson vaulted the pillar and charged, driving his shoulder into Cutler as the mercenary staggered back to his feet. Cutler’s weapon sailed from his hand, and clattered across the floor, followed soon after by Hudson’s own body. The force of the impact had unbalanced him, and caused him to fall awkwardly. He shook his head and checked on Cutler, but the mercenary was still flat out. “Hudson two, Cutler nil, asshole…” he called out. But there was no time to gloat; he had to get back to Liberty, before Tory put a bullet in her.
Scrambling back to his feet, Hudson staggered towards the central sphere. He was still dazed from the collision with Cutler, but he’d managed to hold on to his pistol, which was still clasped tightly between his fingers. Hudson orbited the sphere and then slid to a stop as he caught up with Tory and Liberty. Both women were breathless and had their guards raised. Blood trickled from Liberty’s nose, but Tory was also cut above the eye. Hudson aimed the weapon at Tory and edged to Liberty’s side.
“Cutler’s down, you can go now…” said Hudson, but the mercenary’s eyes were still feral. “Tory, back off, it’s over.”
“This won’t be over until one of you is dead,” growled Tory, glancing over to Hudson. “You’ll have to kill him.”
Hudson shook his head, “You know I won’t do that.”
“Then this isn’t over,” Tory hit back, “and you’ll force me to come after you again.”
“That’s up to you, Tory,” replied Hudson, lowering his pistol. Then he turned to Liberty. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Hudson and Liberty slowly backed away from Tory, like safari explorers trying to escape from a wild animal. But then new voices bled into the room. Hudson stood still, scanning the different tunnel entrances, until he saw them. A group of four relic hunters had just entered the hexagonal space from a corridor directly behind Tory. They continued bantering between themselves until they saw Tory, and then Hudson and Liberty. Everyone froze, and in the silence that followed, Hudson could have heard a drop of his sweat splash on the metal floor. Then the relic hunter crew drew their weapons and the quiet was shattered like a twenty-one-gun salute.
CHAPTER 11
Tory was hit in the opening volley of rounds from the relic hunter crew. She went down, but Hudson didn’t know how badly she was hurt. Hudson escaped the initial onslaught and ran for cover behind one of the metal beams, firing wildly in the direction of the hunter crew. He checked behind and saw that Liberty had slipped around the rear of the central sphere, possibly with the intent to flank the intruders. Then he glanced back at Tory, worried she might be bleeding out, but the mercenary had managed to drag herself behind another beam. She was holding her ribs, face twisted into an agonized grimace. He considered running to her, but the bell-like chime of bullets ringing off the beam next to his head convinced him otherwise.
“We don’t have any relics!” Hudson shouted out, hoping to convince the rival crew that they weren’t worth the effort. “We only just got here!”
“Drop your bags and your weapons, and we’ll let you leave…” a rich, well-spoken voice called back.
“Why don’t you come and get them, shit head.” Tory shouted out, before Hudson could think of a response. Even so, Tory’s retort would not have been his first choice.
Hudson chanced another look over the beam, and saw the four-person crew split into two groups of two. One duo – both young men, perhaps a little older than Liberty – ran to Hudson’s right. This put them on a course to where Cutler still lay unconscious on the deck, and to where Liberty was circling around the back of the sphere. The other group was comprised of the baritone older man and a middle-aged woman with the stocky physique of a shot putter. They were moving more cautiously from beam to beam, working their way towards Hudson and Tory. Hudson knew it was a bad tactical situation; they were outnumbered and outgunned.
Tory was still cradling her ribs, but she was also now creeping along the line of the beam, towards the approaching pair. She clicked her fingers in rapid succession to get Hudson’s attention and then pointed to something nearby. It was the antique single-action revolver, which was resting on the floor, far closer to Hudson than it was to Tory.
Don’t do anything stupid, Hudson, don’t do anything stupid… he told himself over and over in his head. However, the two other hunters were closing, and in a gun battle, two versus two were far better odds. Especially when one of those guns belonged to Tory Bellona.
Hudson steeled himself and then ran out from cover, firing in the direction of the two older hunters. Shots were returned, before the pair dove down out of sight. Reaching the revolver, he
shoved it towards Tory with his foot, sending it spinning across the floor and into her waiting grasp. Shots rang out again and Hudson dropped to the deck and rolled behind the nearest beam. His heart was pumping so hard he felt like it would explode from his chest. The reality was that he’d literally just dodged a bullet.
Tory clicked back the hammer and then stood tall, before marching towards Hudson as if she was merely taking a morning stroll. For a moment, he worried that he was the intended target. However, as Tory reached Hudson’s side, she just glanced over to him and said, “Go help your partner. These two are mine…”
If it had been anyone else speaking those words, Hudson would have laughed and told them not to be so stupid. However, this was Tory Bellona, and coming from her, Hudson only had sympathy for the two unfortunate hunters who had managed to piss her off.
Scrambling back to his feet, Hudson darted from cover to cover as the unmistakable report of a forty-five echoed around the room. Then he slid under one of the higher metal pillars and came face-to-face with the two younger relic hunters. Both Hudson and the hunters were startled, but Hudson reacted more quickly, slapping the closest man’s weapon away. He then grabbed the hunter’s jacket and wrestled him down.
Simultaneously, as if she’d been waiting for Hudson’s arrival, Liberty vaulted a pillar, and kicked the second younger hunter in the back. The man recovered quickly and swung his weapon towards Liberty, but there was little commitment in his action, and Liberty was able to swoop in and disarm him easily.
“Wait, stop, I don’t want to hurt you!” the young man cried out, but the pleads of mercy fell on deaf ears. Liberty landed a fierce three-step combo that put the man on his back. Hudson heard the crunch of cartilage, even over the rest of commotion. The second hunter had climbed to his knees just in time to witness Liberty’s brutal display. The man watched his partner hit the floor like a sack of flour, briefly met Liberty’s eyes, and then ran.
