The Survivors Box Set

by Nathan Hystad

  The doors were broken off from the wall, and I stepped through the opening onto the long grass outside, into a morning on this world. The ground was dewy, and the buildings that had stood the last time we’d visited were nothing more than piles of rubble, crumbled from years of disuse.

  “How is this possible?” I asked, not intending for anyone to answer.

  Leonard appeared behind me, gawking at the scene before him. “This is the same place you were at? The one with the fruit?”

  “The one and the same, only it wasn’t like this. Not quite.” I started forward, following the path we’d taken before. Leonard came along, matching my pace with long strides as we roamed down an old road past the beaten buildings and into the copse of fruit-bearing trees.

  “Is the air okay?” I asked him, not wanting to spend time checking our sensors. I was looking for signs, any indication we weren’t at the right place.

  “Should be compatible,” he suggested.

  A lot could happen to a planet’s atmosphere in a century, or however long had apparently passed in the span of a few weeks. I hit the helmet release and lifted my mask, letting the warm breeze brush against my face. This was the spot where I’d kissed Mary, the taste of overripe fruit lingering on our lips.

  I grabbed a piece of the hanging food and took a bite, and was rewarded with its pleasant flavors.

  “Want one?” I asked, tossing one of them to Leonard. He caught the yellow fruit and released his helmet, raising his mask.

  “Thanks.” He bit into it and smiled, yellow pulp stuck in his teeth. “It’s good. Dean?”

  “Yeah?” I asked, still looking around the alien orchard.

  “What do we do if we can’t get one of the ships to work?”

  I didn’t know. “That’s not an option.”

  “Dean, you better get back here,” Magnus said through my earpiece.

  “Come on, Leonard. Grab some for the others. Let’s get going.” I picked as many as I could hold, and we wound our way back as the heat of the morning grew stronger.

  Slate was outside, peeling off his EVA when we arrived. “Look what I found!” He had four machete-type knives leaned against the hangar’s exterior wall.

  “Perfect. Time to get to work.” I began removing my EVA and piled it beside Slate’s.

  We began hacking away pieces of the dense leaves, branches, and plants away from the largest of the three vessels. By the time we had it all cleared, we were drenched in sweat and panting. My palms were thankful I had on the thin gloves that I wore under the EVA suit; otherwise, they’d be covered in blisters.

  Suma and Leonard were piling the debris to the side, and we were ready to board this ship and see what kind of condition it was really in.

  I tried to get the ramp open from the exterior, but the computer screen wouldn’t even boot for me. This was a problem.

  “Let me try.” Suma grabbed something from her backpack, sticking it magnetically to the side of the vessel. It turned on, and she tapped a small screen, typing away on a clear keypad. The blank comp-screen on the ship blinked on before flashing off again. “Almost there,” she said, her proboscis bending to the side in concentration. She keyed more commands into it, and before we knew it, the comp-screen was activated.

  With a last flurry of typing with her short fingers, the ramp lowered with a hiss. “We’re in!” her tweet translated.

  I was so happy I could have cheered and carried her on my shoulders, but the enthusiasm was short-lived when I saw the interior of the ship. Junk was piled high in the rear cargo area, and a pitiful light flickered on and off, setting a series of shadows against the walls.

  Magnus was beside me, hands on hips. “Think she can fly?”

  I blew out a deep breath of air. “I don’t know. Let’s hope so.”

  Suma went with Magnus to the engineering room, and Slate and Leonard continued to help me in the clean-up effort. We pushed ourselves, unloading crates of rotten food, spoiled supplies labeled in strange languages, and what looked like a bunch of junk. It reminded me a bit of the robo-pirates we’d encountered, and I made sure we checked every crevice of the ship for hidden deathbots before we could relax and set our weapons down.

  The ship was a different layout from the ones we used. The cockpit, or compact bridge, was above the rest of the space in the center of the ship. It was only large enough for three people to be on it at a time and had two consoles. It appeared one was for piloting, and the other for manning the weapons, which Suma warned me were plentiful, even on the small craft.

  The cargo area was in the rear, with bunks at the front left side, and an open room for eating and maybe socializing on the opposite end of the corridor. The whole ship had a stale scent to it, and we left the ramp down, hoping some fresh air would filter through it. Once we could power it on, the filtration system could clear that up for us, if we got it running.

  I tried not to think what it would mean if we were stuck there. We’d have to go back. It meant I either boycotted the trip to the crystal planet entirely, assuming Mary was gone already, or I went back, this time alone. I already started to think of worlds I could reach with the portals that wouldn’t make the trip by hyperspeed so long.

  I even considered going back to Volim to ask them for help. If they used a wormhole, I could do the same, because I didn’t care if I lost years back at New Spero. Only getting Mary back mattered.

  “Dean, you’re going to want to see this.” Slate’s voice was calm but urgent. “Bring your pulse rifle.”

  The cargo area was mostly cleared, with a few crates of unknown goods still stacked neatly on the far edge. Slate stood looking at the wall, Leonard was close beside him, and they were blocking my line of sight.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  They parted from each other, giving me a view of the hidden panel that was now open. A figure stood inside the space in the wall.

  Thirteen

  “What do we do with it?” I asked them. No one spoke for a minute; we all just stared at the unmoving body.

  “Turn it on?” Leonard offered.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. The last time I came face to face with a robot, I was almost killed.” This didn’t look the same as the pirate robots, though. This was thinner, sleeker, its gray metallic material scuffed and worn, making me wonder if it was ever shiny and new.

  I tapped my earpiece. “Magnus, where are we with the engines?”

  The pause told me the news wasn’t going to be good. “You don’t want to hear it.” Magnus sounded stressed. “Give us a while longer.”

  “We found something. You might want to take a break. Suma may have a better idea what to do with it than us,” I said.

  “What is it?” Magnus asked.

  “A robot, an android, I don’t really know. It’s metal and powered down,” I answered.

  “We’ll be right there,” Magnus said.

  We stood there watching it for another minute before Magnus and Suma found us. Suma made her way to the front and let out a series of excited noises. “This could be just what we need.”

  “How so?” I asked her.

  “The engines are damaged beyond my ability. But this” – she pointed at the slender android – “this could help us. Many races have onboard androids to assist with engineering or repairs. This looks like one of those races.”

  Hope welled up in my chest but didn’t last long when I remembered the android wasn’t on either. “How do we fire it up?”

  “Give me a hand,” she said, and we made room for the largest of us, Magnus and Slate, to slide it free from the hiding space.

  They grunted as its heavy feet dragged behind it on the metal floor, leaving scratches. We all pitched in and got it lowered to the ground, face up. It was shaped like a humanoid, which I found made sense, since most of the creatures we’d encountered had been bipedal. It had two eyes and a slit for a voice to carry through. The joints were smooth, like the creator had attempted to hide the fact t
he body was robotic. Its legs were proportionately thinner than the torso, the arms a little too short to be human.

  I also noticed it had seven mechanical fingers and a thumb on each hand. Did the creators make it after their image, or was there a superior functionality to this many digits?

  Suma looked around, trying to find something. “What do you need?” Leonard asked her.

  “Power cord,” she said, scouring.

  “I think I remember seeing one.” Leonard ran down the ramp and into the hangar.

  “Even if you find a power cord, how are you going to juice him up when the ship’s dead?” Magnus asked.

  She tapped her head with a short digit. “I told you I’d be valuable.” Her utilitarian backpack was in the corner of the room, and she went to it, rifling through what looked like a never-ending pile of devices. She pulled something compact from the bag and began unfolding it.

  Leonard stumbled back in a rush. Sweat dripped down his brow. “I found the cord!”

  Suma took the cord and attached one end to the still android. It plugged in near the base of its heel.

  “Now what?” I asked, and Suma’s snout twitched.

  “Now I hook up this adapter.” She fumbled around her pack, trying a few pieces until she found one that fit. “Then I take this solar panel, bring it outside, charge it, and bring it back inside, thus powering up the android.”

  She made it sound like this was an everyday occurrence. Simple.

  “Well, I’ll be. You’re quite the Shimmali!” Slate put his large arm around her shoulder and she beamed up at him.

  “Do you want the honor?” She passed Slate the unfolded solar panel. It was only a couple of feet in length and a handspan tall.

  “Where does the energy store?” I asked her.

  She tapped the bottom of the panel, where a small box attached to it. “In here.”

  Slate took the panel and said he’d find an extra-sunny spot for it.

  “What now?” Magnus asked.

  I pulled over a couple of crates and sat on one. “We wait.”

  ____________

  Two hours passed, and we cleaned every inch of the ship we could. It was in surprisingly good shape once we cleared the debris from inside, but we still wouldn’t know if it was spaceworthy until we got the system up and running.

  “It’s charged.” Suma walked up the ramp. “Good thing too, because night is falling out there.”

  She attached the power source to the adapter on the cord plugging into the android and hit a few icons on the panel’s screen.

  I held my breath as it started to charge. We now had to wait for the android to power up, if it still worked. I couldn’t help feeling like we were wasting time, but we had no choice.

  We talked about anything but the trip ahead while we sat there. Dust and dirt covered my sweaty body, sticking to me in any place my jumpsuit didn’t cover, and even some where it did. Slate told us about Denise, but only after Magnus poked and prodded it out of him. It was nice to see Slate’s eyes sparkle as he spoke about a woman. He’d been through so much, and I was thrilled he’d finally met someone.

  It only brought my own excruciatingly painful emotions to the surface, but I pushed it down. There was only the mission now. No matter what small talk we made, I had one objective: to find Mary at any cost.

  “Dean, look,” Suma said. She’d been perched over the metal man since she’d plugged it in.

  Its eyes began burning a hot yellow. “It’s working,” I whispered, trying not to jinx it. I ran my hands along my bearded face to help mitigate the stress I was feeling.

  We all leaned in over the android, watching it power up. With a sudden jerk, it hinged upward into a sitting position, nearly head-butting Magnus. He moved out of the way just in time, and for a second, I thought he was going to shoot the android in reflex.

  A monotone voice box transmitted a series of nonsensical phrases as its head turned left to right, looking at each of us: evaluating.

  Suma opened a panel on its right forearm, and it didn’t fight her. She grabbed a datastick from her pack and plugged it into a receptacle. Its eyes turned light blue for a moment before going orange and staying there.

  She closed the panel and looked at us smugly. “What did that do?” I asked, unsure why she looked so happy.

  “Hello. I am W88473587369. Excuse me while I check my condition,” it said in a low monotone voice. Its eyes dimmed, then went black.

  “Is it…?” Magnus asked.

  “It’s just doing a diagnostic check. It should be back online soon,” Suma said.

  “This is so cool.” Leonard was using his suit’s camera to take images of the android, likely for later issues of his Survivors comic. Every comic needed a robot.

  Soon it was back, orange eyes looking around once again. “I seem to be fully operational.” It stood up, forcing us to jump back. It was quick when it wanted to be.

  “Hello, W884… how about I call you W?” I asked.

  “W is acceptable. Where is my crew?” it asked, peering past us toward the corridor that led to the bunks and the stairs to the bridge.

  “I’m sorry, W, but they aren’t here,” I said.

  “Were we attacked?” it asked.

  “That much isn’t clear either. We need to get this ship operational so we can take it into space. Can you assist with that?” I leaned forward. The android was a couple of inches shorter than I was, and I looked down into its glowing orange eyes. Its voice was low, and I instantly thought of it as male, though that wasn’t necessarily true. Humans, always trying to put things into categories. It must make us feel better somehow.

  “I will get it running. Then I can access the records and identify what occurred.” It turned and began walking away from us with no further comments.

  “Suma, do you mind watching it? Maybe you can learn something important about the ship.” Before I finished speaking, Suma was already trailing W down the corridor toward the engine room.

  “We may as well get some rest,” Magnus said.

  Leonard was yawning, and Slate was slouched on a crate, gazing after the android and Suma. “I sure hope this bucket of bolts can get us up there.”

  “Me too, Slate. Me too.”

  ____________

  “Try again,” W instructed Slate, who turned the tool as hard as he could. Veins stuck out of his thick arms as he pulled with all his strength.

  W tapped the blank screen, and it whirred to life. The engineering room filled with banging and rough-sounding noises but calmed as W typed codes into the screen with all fourteen fingers in a blur. Soon there was nothing more than the constant hum of the drive powering up.

  “We did it!” Suma called, hugging the android.

  He patted her on the back. “It appears we did.”

  “W, run a full system check on this vessel. Find out what else needs to be repaired. It’s all well and good to get the drive working, but if we get to space only to be torn apart because of a hole in the hull, we’ve succeeded at nothing.” I wondered how the android would accept taking orders from me.

  “Already begun. We should have a readout in four point oh eight seconds. There it is.” W scrolled through the data on the screen, and I glanced at it, seeing nothing but gibberish.

  “Nothing serious, Captain.” W had begun calling me that, and no one had corrected it. “A few minor welds to the exterior, a filtration change, a septic flush, and a thorough blow to the thrusters. Then we should be operational.”

  The list wasn’t tiny, but it sounded better than I’d expected. “Tell us what we can do to help.” Magnus looked rested, but Slate’s eyes were dark and puffy as if he’d stayed awake all night, his nightmares coming back to haunt his dreams.

  “You two can do the septic flush. It does not require my particular skill set.” W’s voice stayed steady, but it felt like he was trying to make a joke.

  “I knew it,” Slate said, punching Magnus in the arm. “If you’d have kept your tr
ap shut, we could be changing filters or pressure-washing the exterior.”

  I left them to bicker and found Suma at the computer screen on the side of the engineering room.

  “Thanks for doing all of this,” I said. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  She smiled like only a Shimmali could. “It’s my pleasure. Anything for you or Mary. But we haven’t got it off the ground yet.”

  I settled my arm over her shoulders. “We will.”

  We had to.

  Fourteen

  If there was one thing I knew from my previous life in the business world, it was that things often happened when you least wanted them to. After repairing the list W had given us, three more issues popped up. It was like renovating. If you tear open the wall behind that shower, be prepared to find something you didn’t expect.

  Once the ship was able to pressurize, we found the filtration system couldn’t handle the load, so we had to unwind part of each cartridge in order to allow the right amount of airflow through. Then we blew the lights in the bunks while cleaning the thrusters, which wasn’t the end of the world, but I’d stubbed my toe on a bed post and was now hobbling around the ship.

  Two days. Another two lost days. That morning as I’d slept, I dreamt I’d found Mary on the crystal world, the Iskios gone from her eyes. She embraced me, kissing me deeply as we celebrated her pregnancy. I promised her we were done with everything, that we’d live our lives in peace. She smiled at me, eyes turning misty and black, and said it wasn’t possible. The Unwinding was too far gone.

  I’d awoken in a sweat and knew it was just my psychosomatic mind creating illusions, but… it felt real. It felt like her lips lingered on mine even as I lay there.

  “Dean?” Leonard called my name, and judging by the look on his face, it hadn’t been the first time he’d tried for my attention.

  I looked down at the table where I sat; my food sat untouched. “Sorry. Just a lot on my mind. Any news?”