by J. J. Green
AX15 stumped over to the fallen cadet and lifted him up. The officers watched silently as the unit returned with the cadet, cradling him in his arms like an oversized doll. When the unit was in hearing range, it said, “Minor order deviation, Master Loba. I stunned Cadet Arkady in order to retrieve him.”
Chapter Seventeen
Loba herded the officers into the next room and turned on a flashlight. He ordered the units to remain at the entrance. Two officers were told to drag the limp Arkady between them. The man was beginning to come around. Haggardy had no choice but to comply and go with the rest of them, but he’d made his switch of allegiance clear, and he hoped it would count for something. As Loba directed the officers through the next opening, and the next, Haggardy dropped back a little, slowing his pace until he was just in front of the master, who brought up the rear. Margret was leading the group.
“Sir,” he said. Loba didn’t acknowledge his words. “Is that what I should call you, sir?” When his question met no response, Haggardy decided to forge ahead, regardless of the dark glances the officers were throwing at him over their shoulders.
“As I understand it, you’re taking us to be possessed by others of your kind. Am I correct? I wanted to tell you that for me, there’s no need. I’m willing to come over to your side, as I showed you just now. I’m with you. And I can be useful. You’ll need someone who understands how humans think and act. I can be your intermediary.”
“Shut up, Haggardy,” shouted a man. “Misborn coward.”
The first mate made a mental note of the officer’s name. He wouldn’t forget it if they got out of this predicament unharmed.
“Sir,” he continued, “I can give you information...data that doesn’t exist in the ship’s computer. Knowledge you can use. I...” Haggardy half-turned to look at Loba. The man’s face was eerily underlit by the flashlight’s glow. He wasn’t even looking at him. He didn’t seem to have heard a word Haggardy had said.
The first mate’s hands began to tremble. Droplets of sweat appeared on his forehead, despite the freezer-like chill inside the structure. There was no point in appealing to whatever it was that possessed Loba. Haggardy’s betrayal of the young cadet had been in vain. He silently cursed. After many successful years of appeasing those in authority, his methods were failing him.
Loba forced the officers deeper into the structure. Haggardy wondered if he was taking them to a special, central area that Harrington had failed to discover: a secret area, closed off from the rest. What might happen there, he did not want to dwell on. But now it was only Loba and Margret, and they had only two weapons. If Haggardy kept his wits about him, he might still survive.
The officers were becoming very cold. Javek was limping, and a man had her arm over his shoulders. The officer whose arm had been severed was staggering, dazed with pain. Haggardy diverted his mind from the others. He needed to concentrate. He was keeping a careful mental note of the turns they took and the number of rooms they passed through.
Haggardy had been born blind. He was a natural, and his blindness was just one of the many conditions modding would have prevented at conception, except that for his parents’ generation, the process had been new and prohibitively expensive. So the young Haggardy had waited ten years for his parents to save up the money for the treatment to fix his sight problems. But the best cure available at the time couldn’t undo all the effects of sightlessness during crucial stages of vision development. Haggardy had worn contacts all his life, something he never revealed to even his closest friends. At last, his childhood years of ridicule and shame might pay off. Though the memory of his blindness had lost its edge, he retained a measure of an ability to move around sightlessly.
They must have been a mile or more underground by then. Haggardy had figured out a pattern to the path they were taking. It was complex, comprised of fourteen steps, but the pattern had repeated three times, and he was sure he had it. If he could remember it, he might be able to make his way out in the dark and avoid the fate that Loba had in store for them.
“Stop,” ordered the master. The officers must have worked something out in low whispers during their journey, for five or six of them turned and lunged at Loba. The ones at the front threw themselves on Margret. Haggardy stepped to one side, out of danger’s way. Loba managed to kill three officers, but the flashlight fell to the floor, and from then onward, Haggardy saw nothing but dark, struggling shapes in the fight between Loba and Margret and the attacking officers. Everyone but the first mate joined in, adding new forms to the dark, writhing mass.
“Argh, my hand,” shouted a voice. “I’m stuck to the floor.” “I’m stuck too,” called another. “I can’t move.” “Help,” said a third. Officers were grunting in pain. “I can’t let go of you.” “Where’s Arkady?” “I...argh...don’t touch anyone. We’re sticking to each other.”
Shouts were turning to screams and shrieks. The beam from the flashlight shifted and rose. Loba had picked it up and turned it on the struggling officers.
“You...you monster. You freaks. What are you doing to us?” wailed a woman.
Loba played the flashlight around the room.
***
An hour or so later, Loba and the officers emerged from the entrance to the structure, where the defense units awaited them. In single file, they marched to the shuttle. Haggardy was at the back of the line. After they had climbed up the ramp and into the passenger cabin, something that resembled the pilot, Grantwise, took the pilot’s seat. The officers sat down and buckled their safety belts. The defense units surrounded them, but Loba didn’t order them to train their weapons on the officers. Like the others’, Haggardy sat looking forward, not speaking, his expression impassive.
Chapter Eighteen
Lee came jogging toward Jas and Lingiari as they left the area of the brig and headed for the flight deck.
“Nice one, Navigator,” said Lingiari as she approached.
“Stop,” said Jas. “Wait a minute.” She ran back to where the defense units were restraining the guards. She picked up the guards’ weapons. “I think we’ll be needing these.” Returning to Lingiari and Lee, she held out one of the weapons for one of them to take while putting the other over her shoulder. They had no time to pay the armory a visit. Lee lifted her hands and eyebrows in alarm at the sight of the laser gun. Lingiari took it and peered at it. “I dunno how to—”
“Never mind,” called Jas, running on. “Just point it like you mean it. I’ll teach you later if I have to. I hope I don’t. Come on.”
“Shouldn’t we bring the units with us?” asked Lee as she ran to catch up.
“Can’t risk it,” Jas answered. “If we meet a possessed officer who ranks higher than me, the units will follow their orders. They’ll turn on us.”
The flight deck was on the other side of the ship. They would have to cross the entire thin upper deck that lay above the Galathea’s massive engines. Though it would have been possible to house the crew cabins, the hold, sample storage areas, auditorium, mission room, cafeteria, flight deck, and so on all in one area, such as at the front or back of the ship, Polestar Corp preferred spreading out the occupied areas in order to provide healthy exercise for the crew. Their shipbuilding budget didn’t stretch to a gym. Jas could easily have done without the exercise right that minute.
“I don’t get what we’re supposed to do when we get there,” panted Lee.
“When that shuttle returns,” replied Jas, “it’s most likely going to be full of officers possessed by aliens. If we let them aboard the ship, we’re sunk. The crew won’t be able to tell them apart from unaffected officers like us, and most of them probably aren’t even aware of what’s happened. I don’t know what the aliens have in mind, but whatever it is, we aren’t going to be able to stop them once they’re aboard. The crew will do whatever they say.”
“So, what are we going to do?” asked Lee.
“If we get onto the flight deck, we can put out a ship-wide alert. We c
an explain what’s happening. If we try to talk to the crew one by one, no one will believe us, so we’ll download the security camera vids of the defense units forcing the officers onto the shuttle, and show them on all channels. The crew will be warned. And we can stop the shuttle from docking.”
“How are we going to do that?” Lingiari asked. “Close the shuttle bay doors?”
“Yes. And if they start to breach them, we can use the Galathea’s plasma cannons.”
“What?” Lee stopped dead. Lingiari also drew to a halt.
“You’re saying we should fire on the shuttle?” asked Lingiari.
“But twenty or more officers are aboard,” said Lee. “They might be infected by aliens, but they’re human, Harrington. They’re our friends and co-workers. We can’t just kill them.”
Jas faced the two across the corridor. “I understand how you feel, and I don’t like it any more than you do, but what’s the alternative? If they get aboard ship, we can’t capture and confine them. They have units with them, units I can’t command with Loba there. It would be impossible, and we’d all end up dead.”
When neither Lee nor Lingiari answered, she continued running toward the flight deck. The navigator and pilot soon began to catch up to her. She wondered if they would stick with her to the finish, no matter what. Could they fire on their shipmates and friends?
“Wait a minute,” exclaimed Lingiari, “why don’t we starjump? The shuttle won’t be able to reach the ship then.”
“Of course,” said Jas, slowing down. “If we leave now, when they get back, all they’ll find is empty space. We can alert Polestar and explain to the crew what’s happened in the safety of another star system. Great idea. You sure you can do it?”
“I’m a pilot, aren’t I?”
It would take about half an hour to jog from the brig to the flight deck, but there was plenty of time. Lingiari and Lee had broken her out of the brig around the time the shuttle had left. The round trip to the planet took hours, and Loba and the officers would be within the structure a long time too, according to Jas’ observation of Loba’s entrapment by Margret. As soon as Lingiari was in the pilot’s seat, he could start prepping the starjump engine. Lee could find the nearest safe star system and input the coordinates. They could jump in two hours or less.
Jas’ conscience was eased. They wouldn’t be forced to sacrifice the officers in order to save the rest of the crew. Maybe there would be a way of rescuing the possessed men and women at some point, too.
At last, the three officers drew to a halt at the flight deck door. Lee gripped her sides and drew in lungfuls of air as Jas outlined her plan. She would enter first and fire off stun shots to quickly subdue whoever Loba had left in charge. Lingiari would back her up. Jas showed him how to fire his weapon and set it to stun. She wasn’t sure what opposition they would encounter once they were inside, but their chances were good.
“Let’s go,” she said, slapping her palm to the security scanner. It flashed red and an alarm sounded. Krat. Loba had primed the security system. On-ship guards would already be on their way.
“Let me try,” said Lee, but the door didn’t open, and the alarm continued to sound. Lingiari’s palm brought the same response. The noise was deafening. “We’ve triggered a shut down,” shouted Lee.
“Krat, krat, krat,” exclaimed Jas. She’d been focusing on what to do once they were on the flight deck, not on how to get through the door. The escape for them and the remaining crew was on the other side, but it might as well have been light years away. Unless...? “Step back,” Jas yelled. She aimed her weapon at the control panel.
“No,” exclaimed Lee, as Jas blasted it apart. The door remained closed. “You’ve sealed it.”
“I didn’t know,” said Jas. “Well, how about...” She lifted the gun again and fired it square at the door. Paint blistered and oozed down, and the corridor filled with smoke. Lee and Lingiari stepped back. Soon, all three were coughing, and their eyes were watering. The metal beneath the paint turned black but was otherwise unaffected.
“Stop it,” shouted Lee above the hum of the gun. “You’re not gonna get through it that way, either.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” yelled Jas.
“I just did.” She screamed and ducked as Jas swung her weapon toward her. The security officer fired off two shots, and cries of pain echoed from behind Lee. Two guards had appeared in the corridor, and Jas had shot them, leaving them unconscious.
“Watch out. More guards,” said Lingiari. He was looking over Jas’ shoulder. She turned and fired, blasting their weapons out of their hands.
“It’s no good,” said Lee. “We can’t get in. We’ve got to leave.”
Jas was forced to agree. “Where to?”
“This way,” shouted the navigator, jumping over the unconscious guards.
“Where are we going?” asked Lingiari.
“The only place they’ll never find us,” replied Lee.
Chapter Nineteen
“Isn’t this kinda dangerous?” asked Carl as he, Harrington, and Lee climbed down a narrow ladder that led down into the bowels of the Galathea and its engine maintenance tunnels.
“Yes, it is,” Lee replied. “If the ship starjumps while we’re down here, we’re fried.”
The copilot paused mid-step. Flux must have also heard the navigator’s words, because he squirmed against Carl’s chest.
Lee was above him on the ladder and didn’t notice he’d stopped. She stepped on his head with her booted foot. “Hey, people coming through here. You can’t just stop. Get a move on.”
Carl looked down at the ladder. It stretched below them until it disappeared into the gloom and up toward the closed service hatch they’d left behind some time ago. The tunnel they were descending through would have held four or five Carls crossways, and it didn’t feel nearly large enough. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
“Keep going, Lingiari,” called Harrington from her position on the rungs above Lee. “We’ve got to get out of sight before the shuttle returns. If Loba or one of the possessed officers finds us, they’ll blast us off the wall.”
“But—”
“Move it,” commanded Harrington.
Carl’s jaw tensed as he put a foot and a hand down onto the next rungs, and the next, and the next. The chief of security was losing all her former allure. He wondered why he’d ever been attracted to her.
“Of course it’s dangerous,” continued Lee. “Starship engines aren’t designed to provide living conditions for humans. But this is the only place we have a chance of hiding out. The service tunnels are like a labyrinth. They could search for days and never find us, especially if we split up and keep moving.”
“But what if they jump while we’re in here?” Carl asked.
“My guess is that Loba wants to get all the crew down to the planet and infected before he goes anywhere,” said Harrington. “That’s going to take a couple of days.”
“Your guess?” asked Carl.
“I think she’s right,” said Lee. “Let’s get going. I don’t like it anymore than you do. These rungs are disgusting, but we’re better off saving our breath for getting down this ladder.”
Carl continued grimly climbing down the ladder. His muscles were aching with the exertion, but he forced them to move. Wet with sweat, his palms were in danger of slipping on the rungs. A chain of lights that were embedded in the walls blinked on as they went. When they had climbed down about another fifty meters, Lee told him to look for tunnels branching off to the sides.
He’d been keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the wall fifteen centimeters from his nose. Grimacing, he looked down to find the tunnels. The view swam before his eyes, and he gripped the rungs tighter. It was crazy. He was a pilot who was afraid of heights. He spotted the tunnels Lee had predicted, their dark entrances leading away from the main wall next to the ladder. “I can see them. We should’ve brought flashlights.”
“No need,” a
nswered Lee. “The side tunnels are lined with the same motion-activated lights as this one, for the engineers. Just don’t take the first one you get to. Don’t be obvious. Pick one farther down, and we’ll go from there.”
Carl did as Lee suggested and swung off the ladder into the fifth tunnel he saw. Bending his head to avoid hitting the tunnel roof, he moved in to make room for Lee and Harrington. He realized why starship engineers were always short. Carl shifted the weapon he’d been carrying across his back to the front. Flux seemed to have fallen asleep, creating a soft bulge where the copilot’s shirt met his pants. Lee maneuvered herself off of the ladder, and a moment later, Harrington joined the two of them. The tunnel walls were made of metal gridwork, unadorned. A simple panel at the entrance bore the number 8.7.1.
“We made it,” said Carl.
Harrington sat beside him and immediately cursed. “I’m an idiot,” she added. “What am I thinking? I’ve got to go back.”
“What? No,” said Lee. “Loba and the others will be back soon. You can’t risk it. If they find you, you won’t stand a chance.”
“But the defense units,” said Harrington.
Lee groaned and leaned on the tunnel wall. “You’re right. Why didn’t I think of it? We’re dead.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Carl, though he had a pretty good idea. He just wanted to be wrong.
“All Loba has to do is send the defense units down here to find us,” said Harrington, destroying Carl’s false hope. “Fifteen relentless, unstoppable androids. They’ll keep looking until they locate us, and we can’t destroy them. If we manage to hit them, they’ll just retreat until they’ve healed enough to carry on.”
“Would they really hurt you, Harrington?” asked Carl. “After you’ve commanded them for so long?”
