by Isaac Hooke
He glanced up toward the entrance and froze.
Famina had stepped inside. Her skin was porcelain, exactly as he remembered. Her lips drawn back in a permanent frozen rictus.
The bridge abruptly faded away. Jonathan was back on the summit. In the freezing snow.
Famina continued to approach.
"What do you want?" Jonathan said.
"I have come to liberate you," Famina said.
"I always knew you would come for me," Jonathan told her. He could hear the sounds of intensive care in the background. The incessant beep of the heart rate monitors. The subtle chatter of patients soon to die.
"Yes." Famina stopped beside him. She extended a hand and turned her head to regard the gaping abyss beside her. "Come with me. Be free, Jonathan."
Though he was wrapped in a winter jacket with several layers underneath, Jonathan felt so cold. So weary. He couldn't feel his fingers or toes. The rest of his hands and feet burned, throbbing badly.
He reached toward her offered palm.
But then he hesitated.
"Do you want to be free?" Famina said. "All burdens gone?"
"But I have a duty to my crew," Jonathan said between chattering teeth.
"Your crew is lost," Famina said. "You cannot save them. Take my hand, Jonathan. Come with me. Be warm again forevermore." She pressed her open palm toward him. "Take my hand, Jonathan. And I will forgive you."
He took it.
Famina stepped into the abyss.
Her weight pulled him down and he plunged into the depths after her.
* * *
"Captain," Robert said. "Captain!"
Jonathan didn't respond. He merely stared off into space.
"I'm assuming command," Robert said. "Maxwell, note in the ship's log that Captain Jonathan Dallas became unresponsive at thirteen hundred forty two hours."
"Noted," Maxwell said.
"Sir," Ensign Lewis said. "Something strange. The other ships in the task unit are gone."
"What?" Robert said. "Where did they go?"
"I don't know," Lewis said. "I think our sensors... wait. Several alien capital ships just emerged from 2-Vega."
"What?" Robert glanced at the tactical display. The Callaway was now right beside the Slipstream 2-Vega. And ten enemy dots had appeared.
"How the hell did we get here?" Robert said.
"I can't explain it," Lewis said.
"What happened to the nukes we mined the entrance with?"
"Gone, sir."
The bridge shuddered.
"Looks like the enemy fighters were transported with us," Miko said. "They're still making strafing runs. And we don't have Black Squadron to defend us anymore."
"Target the closest ship with our Vipers and mag-rails," Robert said. "I want to destroy at least one of them before we go down."
"Odd," Miko said. "Our targeting systems are reporting the ship as a friendly."
"Send me the external feed," Robert said. An instant later a square, hulking capital ship appeared on his vision. "That's definitely not a friendly. Override the targeting system and prepare to fire."
thirty-one
Since their escape, Wolf and Lin had been hiding, avoiding the alien patrols, struggling to stay alive. They had kept to what could best be described as maintenance passageways on the vessel, and though they had tried, they hadn't been able to locate the prisoners.
Wolf had known something was wrong when the blue filaments that lit the passageways had turned to red and the hatches between compartments had sealed. Shortly thereafter the deck had rumbled, and a temporary drop in inertial compensation had thrown him and Lin to the floor.
He had realized the fleet was making an attack, and resolved to do whatever he could to cause damage from within. He and Lin had roamed through the passageways with the intent to melt down as many sealed hatches as they could, hoping to reduce the breach containment effectiveness of the ship. Unfortunately, the aliens themselves seemed impervious to the plasma rifle he possessed, so he and Lin had to run whenever one of those dark masses presented itself. At one point in his rampage, four aliens had chased him and Lin, but the pair had managed to lose them. Their darkness cloak had helped, no doubt.
When they found Rade and his team, Wolf shared the map data his aReal had gathered. Rade immediately dispatched the HS4s to perform a scan of the areas Wolf and Lin had opened up.
They were waiting in that large compartment for the HS4s to report back.
"How long do the drones usually take to X-Ray the bulkheads?" Wolf asked Aaron, Rade's second.
"Depends," Aaron said. "They—" He broke off, then turned away. "Contact, Chief!"
"What's wrong?" Wolf asked him.
"Look at your map," Aaron said. "The HS4s are reporting humans beyond the bulkhead of one of the passageways you opened up for us."
Wolf glanced at the map on the upper right of his HUD. Several blue dots had appeared.
The prisoners.
Rade ordered a Centurion to stay put to guard that compartment, then the party proceeded forward. The robots led, followed by Rade and his men, then Wolf and Lin, with two more Centurions bringing up the rear.
Rade left behind two more robots along the way to watch the different branches, and to keep a route open to the shuttles. Wolf and Lin assumed the burden of the spare spacesuits those robots had carried on their backs.
When they reached the location of the waiting HS4, Rade surveyed the bulkhead. There was no obvious entrance point.
"Looks like we're at the back of the prison," Aaron commented. "That's about perfect, isn't it Chief?"
In answer, Rade waved the rearmost Centurions forward. They carried a portable airlock between them. "Set it up."
The robots unfolded the twin frames and extended the accordion-like fabric that joined them. It was lucky this was one of the wider passageways, able to hold three men abreast, because that airlock wouldn't have fit otherwise.
When the airlock was in place, Aaron grabbed the plasma rifle and stepped inside. He barely fit with the spacesuit strapped to his back. He glanced at Rade for confirmation.
The chief nodded and Aaron shut the hatch.
"Waiting for the pressure to equalize," Aaron said over the comm. A few moments later: "I'm switching to the laser cutter. Not enough room to fire the plasma rifle safely in here."
Two minutes passed.
"I'm through," Aaron sent. "Closing the inner hatch behind me."
Rade must have vented the atmosphere via his aReal because a red light appeared on the outside of the hatch. When it turned green, Rade turned to Wolf. "You're next. I'm sure they could use a familiar face."
Wolf went inside and closed the hatch behind him. He waited for the atmosphere to pressurize, then opened the inner door. A rectangle had been cleanly cut into the bulkhead beside him. He hurried inside, bringing the spare spacesuit.
Aaron was already there, surrounded by excited prisoners.
He saw Chopra.
"Told you I'd come back," Wolf told her, using the external speakers on his helmet.
The others came through, one at a time, and offloaded their spacesuits to the prisoners. Rade came, too, but purposely ignored Chopra.
"Finish getting suited up!" Rade announced. "My team has secured a route between here and the shuttle. You'll find the map on your aReal. One man or robot from my team will go with each of you. Once you reach the shuttle, wait there. The rest of you, my team will return with more spacesuits. We're going to get you all out of here."
People finished suiting up and proceeded into the airlock one at a time, followed by MOTHs and robots.
Rade and Wolf waited by the entrance for their own turn to escort someone.
Chopra approached.
"Dad," she said.
Rade looked away.
Wolf saw tears in her eyes at the rejection.
He turned to Rade. "Talk to her, you fool! She's the reason you're here!"
Rade glanced at him. Wolf realized why h
e didn't want to talk to his daughter. His own face was covered in tears.
Finally Rade turned to her. "Hey, girl."
"Dad, why are you crying?" she said. Her own tears were flowing freely by then. "I thought you never cried."
"I don't." He hugged her fiercely. "Why the hell haven't you suited up?"
"I go last," she said insistently.
"Damn you, girl," Rade said. "Headstrong to the end."
"Just like my father."
He grinned. "Love you, hun."
"Love you, too, dad."
Wolf's turn was next, and he was spared having to watch their emotional reunion any further. He was close to tears himself by then.
After the second run back to the shuttles that were parked on the hull of the alien ship, Wolf began to worry that there wouldn't be enough room to fit everyone, even if all the robots stayed behind. It would certainly be a tight fit. Part of the problem was that the spacesuits weren't body-conforming and took up a large amount of space.
It required four trips before the final occupants left the prison behind. There had been some isolated shooting during that time, with the combat robots firing from their guard positions at approaching aliens.
The second shuttle had departed, so Wolf loaded himself onto the remaining Dragonfly beside Lin and the latest passenger. They were waiting for the final two members, Chopra and Rade. He had no idea how the two of them were going to fit: there wasn't any room left. The suited occupants were packed, standing, right up against the bulkheads, with the overhead directly above them.
Outside, a helmet poked through the hole that was cut into the alien hull. Chopra pulled herself out and gripped the lifeline that led to the Dragonfly.
Rade joined her a moment later.
"Make some room people," Rade said over the comm when they reached the shuttle.
Wolf shoved against the occupants immediately beside him; the passengers shifted and somehow made a tiny space.
"You first," Rade shoved his daughter up and forward. She squeezed in beside Wolf.
Rade pulled himself in after her. His exoskeleton resided half outside the entrance. It seemed obvious to Wolf that he didn't fit.
An alert sounded.
"Clear the door!" the pilot sent.
"People, squeeze closer together!" Wolf said. But they were basically packed in as tight as they could get already.
"Can't you take off with the door open?" someone shouted over the comm.
"No can do," the pilot returned. "The inertial compensators won't function with the door open. Do you want to be dumped out when I make a turn?"
Wolf tried shoving against the people beside him once more, but it was like pressing against a solid mass.
The door started to move downward but when it struck Rade's helmet it immediately reversed.
"Still can't shut the doors!" the pilot said. "Someone is going to have to stay. Draw straws on your aReals, do whatever it takes, but clear the damn door so my craft can launch!"
"I'll stay with the robots." Rade got off immediately.
"Dad no!" Chopra said, reaching for him.
Rade intercepted her. "Wolf, hold her back."
Wolf wrapped his arms around her without preamble. She kicked against him. "Let me go, you bastard!"
But Wolf held on like his life depended on it. With the way Rade was acting, it probably did.
Rade looked at Chopra with such tender sadness on his face. "Pilot, shut the door."
The hatch began to close and Chopra struggled against Wolf even more violently. He was worried she was going to compromise one or both of their suits.
"Forgive me, Sil," Rade transmitted.
She kicked at the closing hatch but the metal was unaffected.
When it finally sealed Wolf released her.
"Pilot, open this door!" Chopra shouted.
"No can do—"
"I'm the captain here!" Chopra interrupted him.
"Chief Galaal is in charge of this mission. He wants to stay, he stays." The Dragonfly shook as the engine started up.
"Rade," Wolf said into the comm.
"What is it, Wolf?" Rade returned.
"I just wanted to say thank you, for everything. If you were here right now, I'd shake your goddamn hand."
"And I'd shake yours," Rade said gruffly. "I was wrong about you. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to share some final words with my daughter."
Wolf cut the connection. He saw Chopra's lips moving frantically, as though she were pleading with her father, but Wolf couldn't hear a word. She shook her head, mouthing the word "no" again and again, her eyes red.
Chopra abruptly leaned against Wolf, pressing her helmet into his shoulder. Though he couldn't hear her, he could tell she was sobbing behind that face plate.
He glanced at Lin helplessly. Her eyes were wide. Stunned.
As the shuttle took off, Wolf heard one last transmission from Rade. It sounded like he was communicating with the combat robots that were left behind. The chief hadn't bothered to choose a private sub-channel for the broadcast: maybe he thought the Dragonfly and its passengers were out of range by then.
"Advance," Rade sent, his voice digitally warping. "I want to open up more of these compartments. In fact, I want to fight my way up to their goddamn bridge. I know you're robots. I know you don't have emotions. But I also know none of you really want to die. No AI does. So I commend you for staying. And I thank you.
"Now, let's give them hell, boys."
thirty-two
Torso-deep inside the coolant access panel of reactor one, Stanley squeezed between the wires and conduits. He was attempting to repair damage from the latest attack. There was so much to do that he had elected to personally assist the men, robots, and drones working under him.
"I told him not to press our engines so damn hard!" the chief engineer cursed, though he knew the Callaway had only traveled at half speed during the battle so far. "Nor to fly so close to the enemy particle weapon!"
The small flying drone beside him bleeped in agreement as it 3D-printed a new gasket for him to use.
A call from the ship's AI popped up on his aReal. Stanley absently accepted.
"Lieutenant Commander Stanley McTaggert," Maxwell said.
"Yes yes. What the fuck is it, AI?"
"Control of the bridge has been lost," Maxwell said.
"What?" Stanley stood up straight, banging his head on an overhead pipe. He flinched painfully.
"The bridge crew is about to fire on the Salvador. The commander has overridden the friendly fire prevention mechanism."
"I'm sure he has good reason." Stanley bent over to concentrate on his task once more. "Cray and Dallas know what they're doing."
"The telepath is in control of their minds."
"Why haven't you taken control then, machine!" Stanley said.
"Because you are in command now, sir."
"Damn it." He waded out from the wires and conduits. "Show me what you're talking about."
A video feed labeled "cargo bay seven" overlaid his vision. He saw Barrick seated against the glass chamber that contained the alien. The telepath's eyes were closed. Five MAs barricaded the entrance to the bay. An equal number of combat robots lay in a smoking heap behind them. Stanley worked out that the video feed was sourced from a selfie drone that had flown into the bay via a ventilation duct. Sneaky AI.
"Now show me the bridge," Stanley said.
The view changed. He saw the Round Table. Captain Dallas was sitting there, staring off into space. Robert and the rest of them seemed fine, though they were ignoring the captain.
Stanley pulled up the tactical display. The Callaway was on a direct course for the Salvador. The rest of the fleet, meanwhile, was heading toward the approaching capital ship. The fleet's course would take them within fifteen thousand kilometers of the enemy.
"Prepare to fire at the enemy vessel," the commander said.
On the tactical display the Salvador highlighted as the Call
away's weapons locked onto it.
It seemed that Maxwell was right.
"Shit," Stanley said. "You've informed the fleet of our situation?"
"I have," Maxwell said.
Stanley attempted to call Robert. The ping ran continuously but the commander didn't bother to dismiss it like a normal person would. He simply ignored the request. Stanley tried Jonathan next. Same response. It was as if they weren't even seeing or hearing the call.
"I have tried repeatedly to reach them," Maxwell said. "They ignore me regardless of whether I speak through the aReal or the bridge speaker system."
"Transfer control of the bridge to engineering," Stanley said. "And lock out their controls." He stated his passcode.
"Bridge controls locked out and transferred to engineering," Maxwell said.
"Now flood cargo bay seven with incapacitating agents," Stanley said.
"Wouldn't you rather open the cargo bay doors?"
"No I would not," Stanley said.
"Killing Barrick would be prudent."
"Don't lecture me on what would or would not be prudent, you emotionless AI!" Stanley said. "Flood the bay with the incapacitating agent as instructed!"
"As you wish."
"And call me sir, goddammit," Stanley said.
"Yes, sir."
He switched to the cargo bay seven feed. The telepath and his guards collapsed as the invisible agent took hold.
"Why the hell would the telepath try to take control?" Stanley said. "He had to know we had backup measures in place. Even if he had decided to take over engineering, too, he couldn't have stopped you from assuming the captaincy in the end." The continuity of command dictated that a ship's AI must take over if no capable officers remained to assume control.
"He may not have been aware of this," Maxwell said. "Or perhaps the alien, obviously influencing him, merely wanted to sow confusion during a critical part of the battle. A last, desperate attempt to help its companions."
"Whatever the case," Stanley said. "The fucker failed. Have some MAs mask-up. I want the six of them transferred to the brig ASAP. And have the doc keep the telepath sedated."
"As you wish, sir."
"And now, since I'm flagship commander for a day, update me on the battle plan."
