There were no clocks in the brig, and she did not have a watch, but she guessed it was twenty or thirty minutes before there was a loud rumbling sound that echoed across the runabout’s hull. Michelle’s parents had been wealthy enough to afford interstellar vacations and had frequently taken her to Mars, Europa, and even some of the outer world colonies. Whenever their star liner arrived at a fueling station or an orbital spaceport, she would hear that same sound when their ship was captured by a magnetic beam.
The sound lasted for a few minutes as there was a feeling that they were being drawn into something large and cavernous. There was a strange feeling of static electricity passing over them. Michelle recognized it as passing through a weak electro-magnetic shield. The runabout settled on its landing legs, sending a slight jerk throughout the entire ship, and the sensation ceased.
Michelle had no idea how long it would take for them to come for her, but as it turned out it was not long. Ten minutes after they had touched down wherever they were, Michelle’s cell door slid open. A half-dozen TGF guards stood at the ready outside as did the African general who had been at the asteroid mining colony. Next to him was the Gael, who stared at her as if he were appraising something he might devour.
“Come on out of there, girl,” General Ounimbango said, beckoning her forward with his hand.
Shooting all of them a look of what she hoped was purest loathing, she nonetheless complied and emerged into the corridor. To her left, there were another dozen TGF soldiers and a huddled bunch of bounty hunters who were being fitted with wrist manacles that were connected by high tensile wire to the next pair of manacles. It forced the prisoners to march in a single file line as they were lead out of the brig. The last one in the line was Anastasia Petrova, the woman who had shot Matthew Jennings. Petrova looked at her and flashed a savage grin, and Michelle forgot entirely where she was.
Charging across the open space in between them, she had reached Petrova before her guards had even reacted. Grabbing the bounty hunter by the hair, Michelle simply dropped down to the ground, dragging Petrova with her, the bounty hunter crying out in pain. The manacles connecting all the prisoners caused a domino effect where the first four men chained in front of Petrova fell to the ground before one of the prisoners at last braced himself and kept himself upright.
Letting go of Petrova’s hair and noting with some satisfaction that some hair had come off into her hands, Michelle turned Petrova around and punched her square in the face. She was not certain if Petrova’s nose broke, but there was immediately a stream of blood running down her face. Michelle shook her hand vigorously. That was the first time she had ever punched someone. No one had ever told her that it hurt as much as it did.
“Get off me, you stupid girl!” Petrova screamed.
Michelle responded by slapping her across the face with her other hand. “That was for Matthew,” she spat as she reared back to smack her again.
A strong hand grabbed her by the wrist and pulled Michelle to her feet before she could strike. She almost wheeled about on the person who held her, but saw a man with an armored helmet, holding a plasma pistol in his other hand, and thought better of it.
“That’s quite enough of that, my dear,” the Gael Overseer Pahhal said.
“You’ll pay for this,” Petrova spat, unable to wipe the blood away from her face because of the hand manacles.
“Get them to the Intrepid’s brig,” General Ounimbango ordered.
One of the TGF soldiers grabbed the front man in the line of chained bounty hunters and started pulling on him. Slowly, all of Petrova’s men fell into line one behind the other, trailed lastly by their furious and bleeding leader, who was still cursing in Russian at Michelle. They marched slowly out of the runabout’s brig, paced on each side by a half dozen TGF soldiers.
“Now, Ms. Williams, I would appreciate it if you would let my men put manacles on you without any further… violence,” Ounimbango said.
Michelle nodded, and one of the soldiers stepped forward with a pair of binders in his hand.
“That will not be necessary,” Pahhal said as he raised a hand.
“There are protocols,” Ounimbango said nervously. “All prisoners going to the brig must be bound.”
“True,” he agreed. “But she’s not going to the brig.”
“What?” Ounimbango demanded.
“I will take custody of her,” Pahhal said. He stepped forward and removed a device from his robe that looked like a metal collar. Stepping forward, he said, “This should keep Ms. Williams from running off while my guest.”
“What is that?” she demanded.
“A little invention of ours for helping to encourage compliance,” Pahhal said. “You can allow me to put in on you, or I can have General Ounimbango order his men to force it on you. Which would you prefer?”
Reluctantly, Michelle nodded. Pahhal stepped forward and wrapped the collar around her neck, snapping it closed.
From the exit to the brig, a demeaning voice called, “The slave collar is a good look for you.” Anastasia Petrova was still marching slowly out of the room. “Shockingly good,” she added.
Michelle made as if to take another run at Petrova, but Pahhal caught her by the arm and said, “I wouldn’t recommend that.” Michelle struggled for another moment to break free of the long fingered grasp of the Gael, but he calmly said, “With that collar in place, if you get more than twenty-five feet from me, you will know pain the likes of which you have never experienced.”
Michelle suddenly stopped struggling and looked back at the Gael.
“Apologies, but I feel a demonstration is in order,” he said as he pressed a button on a device in his hand.
Michelle screamed as electricity poured into her and she dropped to the floor, her entire body contorting in spasms of pain. It lasted no more than a few seconds, but left Michelle with tears streaming down her face, her breath coming to her in ragged gasps, and every muscle in her body aching. Pahhal reached a long arm down to help her to her feet, but she ignored it and pulled herself up on her own.
Pahhal smiled wickedly and said, “If you stray fifty feet from me, it will be your death.”
“I understand,” she spat, still breathing heavily.
“Excellent,” Pahhal said. Turning to Ounimbango, he added, “General, thank you for your assistance, but I shall not be needing you or your men any longer to help me escort Ms. Williams.”
The Gael made an “after you” gesture with his hands, but he was really telling Ounimbango and the TGF forces to leave. Ounimbango looked dubious about the proposition, but he was used to taking Pahhal’s suggestions as orders. With as much dignity as he could muster, Ounimbango marched himself past Michelle, his TGF security forces falling into line behind him.
“I will be honest with you,” Pahhal said as soon as Ounimbango was out of earshot. “I will be quite happy to be done dealing with that obnoxious human being now that Operation Aurora is at last complete.”
“Operation Aurora?” she repeated.
“All in good time,” Pahhal replied as he took her by the arm and led her out of the runabout’s brig.
2
The Gael led Michelle Williams to a lift that descended to the lowest level of the runabout, then to a large gangplank that was about twenty people wide. The sheer size of the space Michelle walked into was like nothing she had ever seen in a spaceship before. There were two areas open to space, covered by full energy shields when no ships were entering or leaving the hangar and shields only strong enough to contain atmosphere when a ship was docking or launching. It looked like the runabout had entered through the large opening to space on the starboard and had pulled into a large space that was specifically set aside for it to the right of that opening, toward the fore end of the ship. Next to it was the ship that Michelle recognized from when they were leaving the mining colony. It had to be Petrova’s ship that for some reason the Gael had hauled back here.
To the left of the openi
ng were a series of smaller shuttles and then a series of what looked like maintenance bays. Spare parts and tools lined the walls and a few fighters appeared to be in varying stages of being taken apart and put back together. The wall opposite of the starboard opening to space was riddled with small hangers, stacked two high, each of which housed a fighter or bomber.
Directly in front of the wall of fighters was a long lane created by two sets of blinking lights that each ran the entire length of the hangar, terminating at the bow egress into space. It must have been the launch ramp for the fighters, Michelle thought to herself as Pahhal continued to lead her across the vast space.
She had spied the long line of prisoners moving toward a different section of the ship, but she chose to ignore them and instead focused on her surroundings. Every hundred feet or so, she passed a column that ran floor to ceiling that had a series of ten-foot tall lockers built around it. The labeling on the lockers read: Emergency Decompression.
Pahhal led her to the far side of the hangar, far away from either of the openings to space, and into a lift. He pushed a button for a level that was marked Officer Quarters, Intrepid Club, O Fitness. Life must not be too bad as a TGF officer, Michelle thought to herself. All you had to do was not mind working for the Gael, the race that had subjugated humanity. She chanced a look at her captor, but Pahhal was paying her little mind. He had a strangely serene expression on his face as they arrived at their level with a cheerful sounding ding of the elevator.
The doors opened, and they proceeded down the hallway, passing a few men in TGF uniforms, who nodded or bowed slightly to the Overseer as they passed. They continued by what looked like a restaurant or bar and then a fitness club before they entered a corridor with doors every twenty feet or so. It reminded Michelle of her parents’ condo in Seaboard or of a hotel.
At last, they arrived at a door at the end of the corridor. Pahhal punched a series of commands into the control pad, and the door slid open, revealing a large empty room. It was carpeted and had soft yellow lighting recessed into the walls and ceiling. There was no furniture even though it was clearly designed as quarters for a high ranking member of the crew. The kitchen, which was open to the room they were standing in (what Michelle assumed was the living room), looked like it had never been used, although she could say that about all the rooms.
“I apologize for the Spartan nature of the environs,” Pahhal said as the door closed automatically behind him. He turned and punched a series of new commands into the control pad on this side of the door, locking it. “My kind do not see the same need for relaxation and comfort as yours does.” He considered the Construct for a moment and then added, “Perhaps we just experience it differently, I should say. Our free time is not spent in the same way.”
“Where do you sleep or eat?” Michelle asked, unable to keep from being a little curious.
“My kind do neither,” he said as he walked toward a door that was set in the wall on his right, his voice sounding strangely bitter. “Kindly sit down here,” he said, pointing to the floor against the wall next to the door.
Michelle walked over to the place he was pointing to, pointed at the floor, and asked in an annoyed voice, “Right here?”
“Humans cannot pass through this door,” he said, indicating the one right in front of them. “They will be killed instantly by the defensive measures in place.” A satisfied look passed onto the Gael’s face. “I’m going into this room for a while by myself. If you’ll remember what happens if you get too far away from me, you’ll appreciate my recommendation of where you sit.”
Nodding, Michelle sat where Pahhal had indicated, and the Gael Overseer opened the door to what would have been a bedroom if this were a human’s quarters. Michelle tried to get a glance into the room, but the door shut behind Pahhal almost immediately and she saw nothing.
Immediately, Pahhal headed into the center of the room as the silver discs imbedded in the wall began sending out their purplish-black energy. Pahhal felt himself encased in the ball of energy, his mind completely engaged by the Construct. His mind was whirring as fast as he had ever found it doing, the excitement that he felt churning through his thoughts as his mind sought connection to the Gael military collective. Pahhal fired off the passwords required with incredible speed and was soon connected to Fleet Admiral Varenhas.
“Pahhal?” Varenhas’s voice echoed throughout Pahhal’s mind.
“I have her!” Pahhal said excitedly.
“You do?!? We have all one hundred and eleven of them?” Varenhas’s mind spoke excitedly.
“Yes, my friend,” he said. “We are finally there.”
“We are going home,” Varenhas said. “After all this time, we are going home at last.”
“We need to get the one hundred and eleven humans to Gael space as quickly as possible,” Pahhal said. “The supercruiser you had promised me?”
“It’s in your area and will be there soon,” Varenhas said.
“Very well, I will transfer the humans to it and come aboard, then the supercruiser will destroy this vessel,” Pahhal said. “I will suffer no chances of failure in this endeavor.”
“Of course,” Varenhas answered. “I look forward to seeing you at the Great Gate, my friend.”
“To you as well,” Pahhal agreed and he disconnected his mind from the Construct. “The Great Gate shall open at last,” he murmured to himself as the dark energy that had filled the room suddenly vanished. “After millennia of failure.”
3
Michelle had spent her time when Pahhal was in the bedroom by himself wondering what the hell was going on. She had been moving so quickly since meeting Matthew Jennings on Strikeplain that she had barely considered again why this was happening to her. The charges of terrorism had clearly been orchestrated by this Gael, as it was he who had wanted her. But none of it made any sense. He said that she was the last of the humans he was looking for. Why was he interested in her? What could he possibly want her for?
The questions kept swimming around her head, and she focused on them in order to avoid dwelling on the grief she was feeling. She had not particularly known Matthew Jennings well, but he had saved her from sexual servitude on Strikeplain, and while his motives had not been purely for her benefit at the time, he had believed her and had tried to protect her. Just before he was shot, Jennings had come so close to getting her back from Petrova. Seeing him on the other side of the elevator doors when they opened had felt like the greatest moment of her life and it had been very fleeting.
The other thing she was avoiding dwelling on was the feeling that she had that she was going to be killed. They had charged her with a crime that bore the death penalty, but they clearly had no intention of going through with a trial. Therefore, whatever the Gael wanted her for was almost certainly going to result in her death. She just hoped it was painless.
The door slid open and Pahhal emerged, looking full of energy and smiling down at Michelle. “You have been comfortable, I trust?” he asked.
“I want to know something,” she said, ignoring his question.
“Yes, this will end in your death,” Pahhal said quietly. “But it will not be uncomfortable.”
“I already assumed as much,” she said as she stood up to face the Gael. Receiving the confirmation of what she had already suspected should have made her scared or depressed, but instead gave her some steely resolve. “I want to know why.”
Pahhal stared at her for a moment, before he said, “Yes, I suppose that is only fair. But not here. There’s something I must show you first.”
Chapter 30
Fix and Lafayette had raided the weapons locker on board the Grey Vistula and had apparently come away from the experience quite satisfied. They were standing in the Grey Vistula hangar bay right next to the Melody Tryst, a large spread of weapons and gear spread out across a black cloth tarp.
“Let’s be glad that Petrova believes in keeping a well stocked cupboard, non?” Lafayette said as Jennings an
d Beauregard approached him.
“You guys don’t believe in subtlety, do you?” Beauregard asked, sizing up the weapons cache.
“Subtlety has its points,” Jennings argued as he knelt down, grabbed a gun belt and stood back up. “What it has to do with this line of work is beyond me though.”
Petrova had apparently believed in buying her firearms in bulk, so there had been a great deal of symmetry to the weapons they had procured. Each of Jennings’ crew were now wearing weapons belts that carried two plasma pistols, ammunition for each and had crisscrossing bandoliers attached to it. One bandolier had a large back holster for a double-barreled grenade launcher and additional grenades that could be used in the launcher or armed and tossed by hand. The second bandolier had ammunition for the large automatic plasma rifles that each now carried.
“How do you expect to sneak around the ship armed like that?” Beauregard demanded.
Jennings pressed a button on his handheld and said, “Minerva, how’s your hack coming?”
The computer NAI responded, “Frankly, I’m disappointed by how easy it is to hack into a Terran Gael Force military computer.”
“Your computer has quite the attitude,” Beauregard observed.
“The same could be said of you,” Minerva responded coolly.
“Oh no, I offended the machine,” Beauregard retorted.
“Not nearly as offensive as your taste in fashion,” Minerva fired back. “That dress you wore back at our encounter at the Colonial Triangle, what dead whore did you pilfer it from?”
Beauregard looked furious and opened her mouth to say something, but Jennings held up a hand. “You’re arguing with my tablet,” he pointed out. “Besides, you don’t want to be on Minerva’s bad side. She knows a lot about everyone and she can be brutally mean… I mean… honest.”
Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned to look at Fix and Lafayette who were nodding in agreement with Jennings. Crossing her arms angrily, Beauregard nevertheless bit her tongue and said nothing more. Jennings gave her a look, expressing something akin to gratitude.
111 Souls (Infinite Universe) Page 29
