by Colin Weldon
Carrie’s feet turned and made their way to the transport pod. It began focusing its thoughts deep inside. It was time to pay Carrie another visit.
Inside, deep within the recesses of her mind, Carrie watched, and listened.
***
“Shit,” Carrie said peering over the fortress to the sea of black below.
She glanced up briefly at the images of her body moving through Jack’s ship before looking back at her mother.
“It’s going to try another assault on you right now. I can’t be here for that. I need to hide. Open your defences and fend it off. Don’t let it in here,” Jennifer said.
“I thought you said I needed to get out,” Carrie replied.
“Not when its energy is focused on you, you won’t survive that way, trust me, just fight back,” Jennifer said.
A flicker of light began to form from somewhere down below.
“I’ll return, don’t give it a chance. Defend yourself,” Jennifer said suddenly vanishing from sight.
The urgency in her voice made Carrie tense as she looked at the familiar floating crystal structure.
“Get out!” came the booming voice that slammed off her ears.
Carrie had no time to respond before a thick beam of light erupted from the crystal, striking the outer walls of her fortress.
“Weapons!” Carrie screamed as the ground beneath her feet rocked from the impact, causing her to lose her footing and tumble backwards. She slid off the edge of the walkway, her hands catching her before she fell. Another whistling sound of energy hit the walls above her as she hooked her elbows over the walkway and clambered up.
“Shit,” she said gritting her teeth, “Fire!” she screamed.
She heard the opening of the outer doors as the cannons emerged. Then came the fury. Her fury. All focused on one point. The crystal floating structure. The sea and sky exploded in light as the two opposing forces met. She got to her knees and crawled over to the exterior wall as sounds of breaking rock and debris rained down on her head.
He was doing real damage.
“GET OUT!” came the booming voice from all around.
Carrie looked to the sky and saw that The Black was standing in the airlock. It was bringing her body outside. She frowned.
“Give me back my body!” she screamed in vein, her voice lost in the fray of explosive impacts.
The assault continued for several more seconds before stopping abruptly. Carrie’s world went quiet. She looked up at the sky and saw her body as it moved past the outer airlock and began floating free from the ship.
“Dammit,” she said.
She got to her feet and peered over the wall, gazing out over the black sea. The bright crystal entity, The Black’s true form, was nowhere to be seen.
“You all right?” said Jennifer’s voice from behind Carrie, the unexpected suddenness making her jump.
She grabbed her chest.
“Please don’t do that,” Carrie said.
“Sorry,” Jennifer said, “it’s gone, outside, to try and get a handle on your powers.”
“Great, now what?” Carrie said running her hand over a broken section of wall, “It’s getting more powerful, look.”
“Yes, it is, and it will eventually break through these walls and when it does, that’s that,” Jennifer said.
“What does it want me for?” Carrie said.
“It’s going to use you as a weapon, to finally defeat an enemy that the others could not,” Jennifer said.
“The Targlagdu?” Carrie said, “there’s too many of them. I’ll never be able to do anything about that.”
“No, the Ruthenians. We knew them as the Signal Makers. They are the ones responsible for blowing up the Earth.”
ARON ELSTONE’S QUARTERS
“You have to eat something, Maya,” said Aron as he took a sip of cold water.
His daughter had been unusually quiet, but her appetite had been strong the last few weeks and she was beginning to look healthy. There was something bothering her. He knew it. He had made it his priority to not leave her side on this alien ship for long periods of time. He watched her every gesture, every move for signs that her grip on reality was returning somehow. He couldn’t imagine what a life spent in a floating tank could have been like for her, being fed false memories, being ripped from the only world you have ever known into a nightmare of strange people, strange ships traveling through space. The first weeks had been hard. She wouldn’t sleep. Would thrash when touched and spend most nights curled up on the floor in the corner of the room. Aron had thought that a connection with Maya would never be possible, but there was something in that first week together, something in her eyes. He had felt an immediate bond. She had clung to him like a second skin. She had known, somehow, who he was. There was something different about her. An instinct, an intuition. Vishal had seen it too. There was something buried in that mind of hers that knew all about Aron, all about what he had been through, what the colonists had suffered under Arturo Verge, about their rescue and about what Aron had done for them.
Maya looked up at him with her large brown eyes that seemed to look past him and into eternity. He saw something in her eyes that looked like sadness or confusion.
“What is it Maya? What’s wrong?” Aron said.
Maya pushed her plate away and stood slowly from the table. She walked over to the side of the room. Aron watched her carefully. There was something very odd going on. An eerie and unsettling feeling began to take hold in his stomach. Maya pulled her hair to one side and tilted her head slightly as she peered out at the unmoving stars. Aron followed her gaze and frowned.
The unmoving stars.
He stood, and walked over to Maya.
“We’ve stopped?” Aron said looking outside at the sparkling vista.
Then he heard something that sounded like a whisper. He looked at Maya who was looking right at him with her curious eyes.
“... arrie” she said so softly that Aron couldn’t make it out.
Aron’s mouth opened. He leaned in.
“What?” he said, shocked that she had picked now to speak for the first time.
Maya leaned into his face, and put her hand on the back of his head. She placed her mouth close to his ear.
“Carrie ...” she whispered, “is lost.”
Aron looked into her eyes. She looked scared.
“What do you mean, Maya?” Aron said.
There was a loud thud on the door. Aron shot his head around quickly to see what it was. The entrance shimmered from solid to viscus as Tyrone Tyrell stumbled inside the room. Aron stepped in front of Maya as an instinctual reaction. Tyrell was out of breath and looking behind him. He hit the door mechanism with his hand and waited until the wall solidified again. He then turned to Aron.
“Doctor Tyrell?” Aron said.
“It’s Aron, isn’t it?” Tyrell said pointing to him.
Aron looked at Maya who was holding onto his arm and hiding herself behind his right arm.
“Are you alright?” Aron said.
“I most decidedly am not,” Tyrell replied.
20:
THE AGATHON
Captain Barrington sat with his arms folded at the head of the conference table. Tark’An was leaning on the side of the table with his huge frame. Both men were staring off out into the nebulae, their tales both told.
“How many of your people were killed by those things?” Barrington asked finally breaking the silence.
“Almost all,” Tark’An replied, “the replicants swarmed through our cities, enveloped countless colonised worlds. The Sword of Stars is our last option to wipe the plague from the universe. Are there any others of your race with the capabilities of your daughter?”
“Not that I am currently aware of, no,” Barrington said.
“In
triguing.”
“And Yal’Ren?” Barrington said.
“It took your mate, yes?” Tark’An said.
Barrington nodded.
“She discovered it.”
“It wouldn’t have had time to sample the genome, which is why the bond did not work,” Tark’An said, “it would have been quick, be thankful for that. Sien’An, that was my mate, she was not so lucky. Replicated, torn apart in the belly of the beast and used to infiltrate The Praxis. She almost destroyed the ship. Most of my crew did not survive, but we were able to detonate one of our weapons in its core. The Targlagdu vessel now orbits our home world, as a reminder of what is to come.”
Barrington quietly shook his head, running through his options. He thought about the danger that Carrie could be in. He thought about the odds of them surviving this, but most of all he thought about what side he was supposed to be on.
“I see your dilemma,” Tark’An said.
“Huh?” Barrington said.
“Captain, let me be as clear as I can. I was sent here to evaluate your vessel as the signature from your weapons system matched that of the others. Now that I have, and now that I know there is a vessel on the way here, I have a choice to make. They will have undoubtedly picked up The Praxis on their scanners by now and are currently evaluating whether to come in firing or not. I’m guessing with your mutated daughter on board they will not risk harming your ship, but I cannot be certain. They are a ruthless species. We have not had direct contact in over five hundred years,” said Tark’An, “I can assure you, Captain, that their interest in you as a people is unquestionably mendacious.”
“Meaning?” Barrington said.
“Meaning their interest in helping you recover the survivors of your race has another purpose,” Tark’An replied.
“Carrie,” Barrington replied.
“If what you tell me about your daughter is correct, then that would be my guess, yes,” Tark’An said.
“Then I should be preparing for a battle one way or another, yes?” Barrington said.
Tark’An raised himself up and paced to the window.
“Captain, you are the first known survivors of our weapon. The destruction of sentient worlds was not something that I believed should’ve been carried out. Despite the risk to our own home world and despite the near extinction of our race. It is wrong to eliminate a life to save a life. The device commission, however, disagrees with me and I’m not in a position to do anything about it. Any hint of descent is met with immediate execution of you and your family for the betterment of the race,” Tark’An said.
“I see,” Barrington said.
There was a solemn moment of silence in the room. Barrington felt truly helpless. Like the fate of his ship was about to be decided in the next few seconds with or without his help. Tark’An turned to him.
“Captain, I would like to take your ship back to my home world,” Tark’An said.
Barrington placed his hands on the table and pushed himself up to a standing position.
“Take?” Barrington said.
“Yes,” Tark’An replied.
“Okay, but I can’t go anywhere until I get my daughter back, not to mention the last remaining survivors from the space stations. They’ll be here in a matter of hours,’ Barrington said.
Tark’An took a large breath in that expanded his huge chest putting strain on the leather bindings, which held his two large swords.
“Very well, I will take my ship out of range and monitor until the transfer of your passengers is complete. After that, I will give you a set of rendezvous coordinates for you to meet The Praxis,” Tark’An said.
“And if they turn on us?” Barrington replied.
“Then we will know their intentions,” Tark’An replied showing a set of sharp teeth.
“I can also hit my FTL drive and take my chances out there,” Barrington said.
Tark’An unfolded his arms.
“Captain, there isn’t going to be an ‘out there’ for very much longer.”
BRIDGE
“They’ve been in there too long,” Chavel said manning the flight control.
Boyett was sitting in the captain’s chair not taking her eyes off the alien vessel on the overhead screens. Chavel turned around and looked at her. Boyett sighed.
“What do you want me to do, Lieutenant, knock on the door and check up on him?” Boyett said.
Chavel shrugged his shoulders giving her a ‘maybe’ sign.
“The captain will ping his comm if anything goes awry,” Boyett said.
“What about that device he’s got around the captain’s neck?” Chavel said.
“Seems to be some sort of translation thing,” Boyett said.
Chavel looked at her with concern in his eyes.
“Oh for God’s sake,” Boyett said tapping the comm system on the side of the chair.
“Boyett to Captain Barrington,” she said into the chair.
“Go ahead,” said Barrington.
There seemed to be a collective sigh on the bridge.
“Sir, just reporting the status of the diagnostic on the main control overlays. Engineering reports that we’re okay on that front,” Boyett said.
There was a moment of silence as Boyett waited for the captain to comprehend the useless information she had just conveyed as a means of checking up on him.
“That’s fine, Charly, we’re going to be wrapping up here shortly, will be back on the bridge in twenty minutes. Barrington out,” he replied clicking off the comms system.
Boyett glanced at Chavel and shrugged her shoulders. She looked back up at the huge alien ship still locked onto The Agathon with its powerful tractor. There was a bleep from her comm panel.
“Brubaker to bridge,” came the Doctor’s voice.
“Boyett here, go ahead.”
“Charly, is the captain available?” Brubaker said.
“Not right now, Doctor, he’s in a meeting,” Boyett said smiling to herself at how absurd it sounded.
“Is everything all right up there? I’ve got some worried people down here asking me questions,” Brubaker replied.
Fuck if I know, Doc
“I’ll get back to you, Doctor, the ship is secure for the moment. Tell concerned passengers there’s currently no cause for alarm,” Boyett said trying to sound half confident.
Boyett clicked off the comm system and shook her head. She felt a fluttering in her gut that told her this situation was about to blow up. For now, sitting on this seat, she was in command. She stared intently at the alien ship. While nowhere near as ferocious as a Targlagdu planet monster, it greatly outclassed The Agathon. Their only chance was the alien cannon installed and using the FTL drive was still a go. Without Carrie here, it was the best she could hope for. Hit and run if it got dicey. She leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs. She pulled a loose strand of greasy brown hair behind her ear and reminded herself that she needed to wash it next time she had a chance. The four hours of sleep she was getting at night plus running the ship just wasn’t enough to keep her going. She was tired. They all were. She wondered if she would ever see a blue friendly sky again. The comm system bleeped again.
“Bridge,” Boyett said.
“Charly, we’ve got repair teams at the docking ring,” said Tosh, “we’ve got it sealed, but you can write it off as a functioning airlock until we dry dock. If we dry dock.”
“Very well, anything else?” Boyett replied.
“Yeah, the force being applied by that energy pulse is starting to put a strain on the structural integrity. It would be good if you told them to turn the fucking thing off,” Tosh said angrily.
Boyett smiled.
“I’ll do my best, Tosh, just keep on your toes,” Boyett said.
“Poor choice of words, Lieutenant,” Tosh said.
“Sorry, Tosh,” Boyett said.
There was a welcome chuckle down the comm channel, which was reciprocated around the bridge. The levity was something Boyett was glad of.
“Don’t worry about it, bridge, engine room out,” Tosh said.
Boyett couldn’t help but laugh. The rest of the bridge crew joined her.
THE SIENNA CLARK
“Just slow down,” Aron said to Tyrell who was now sitting on Aron’s bed trying to get his breath back.
“I don’t have time to slow down, my boy,” Tyrell replied, “you know me, yes?”
“Of course, I know you,” Aron said, “but your eyes ...”
Tyrell’s black eyes had given way to normal human-looking ones with rusty hazel brown irises. Tyrell leapt up grabbing the lapels of Aron’s jacket in a manic frenzy.
“It’s got, Carrie,” he said, “what was in me, is now in her.”
Aron put his hands on Tyrell’s wrist.
“What?” Aron said.
“Listen to me, they know I’ve escaped. I don’t know how much time we have. Do you have weapons?” Tyrell said.
“Weapons? What the hell is going on?” replied Aron glancing momentarily to Maya who had moved ever so closer to Tyrell.
Aron took a slight step to his right to make sure he kept some sort of physical barrier between the two. He wasn’t sure why. Tyrell, seeing the movement, raised his arms and showed Aron the palms of his hands.
“I don’t mean you any harm. You have to trust me. I don’t know all the details. It’s all a bit hazy. I’ve been lost for what seems like an eternity, but I know things about it. You are all in terrible danger. All of you,” Tyrell said.
“Tyrell, slow down. You said it’s got Carrie? What’s it?” Aron said.
Tyrell looked at the door and then back at Aron.
“Look, we really don’t...” he began when there was a sudden thudding sound coming from the door.
Tyrell and Aron looked at the solid wall.
“What was that?” Aron said.
