Eye of the Abyss: Chronicles of the Orion Spur Book 3

by Michael Formichelli

  “Well they look like birds, an’ they ain’ here anymore.” Armstrong scanned the sky with her mismatched brown and blue eyes.

  Ichiro felt a cold tremor deep within his chest. When he turned to look at Setha’s willowy form, her ectoplasmic-green eyes were wide and staring up at the sky in horror.

  “Ichiro,” she said into his thoughts. “Something is horribly wrong on the Abyssian ship. I think—”

  Her jaw dropped and she threw herself on him. He heard Tengu howl as she wrapped him up in her embrace. Bright-green fire blazed into life around them, blinding him with its intensity, and a moment later the air became a white-hot tsunami of pain.

  Chapter Two

  Annihilator 87136, Near Taiumikai System

  41:2:41 (J2400:3171)

  Failure left a coppery, vile taste in Nero’s mouth. When he closed his eyes he saw Taiumikai’s atmosphere splatter across the stars like spilled paint. He saw its seas boil, and malevolent, red lines of magma spread across the darkening planet in a web of fire. His throat constricted at the thought of what the people on that world went through while the world around them died, but what pained him the most was that the little girl he swore to protect on Savorcha perished in fire due to his failure, just like her mother did.

  Nero, you shouldn’t blame yourself, the symbiotic AI inhabiting his cerebral computer, Prospero, said into his thoughts. I failed to fight off Qismat’s cyber-attack on Elmorus. Her program hid within my data, and I couldn’t stop it from taking control of this ship. Their deaths are on me.

  They felt their despair together like a black hole in the pit of his stomach while he floated in the large sphere of the annihilator’s control pod. He swore that he would refuse to die, refuse to stop fighting, until the man responsible for this, Baron Zalor Revenant, was dead.

  “I cannot believe it.” Sorina Khepria propelled herself off the floor with her hand-like feet. Her long fingers grabbed his shoulders, and she met his gaze with amber, cat-like eyes. Tall, pointed ears, set higher on her skull than a human’s, blurred with vibration—a Relaen sign of extreme agitation. Her momentum transferred to him with the contact, and they drifted to the arched wall. He redirected their motion with his hand and pulled her against his chest. Her cinnamon smell filled his nostrils as she wrapped her nimble arms around his torso. As an Abyssian Praetor he was her superior on this mission and regulations forbade such an intimate gesture, but he wasn’t sure he was one anymore, and in the state he was in he could not resist the call of her touch.

  “We’ve just seen a world die,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “It is not your fault,” she whispered in accented Solan. “We will get the ones responsible. We will bring them to justice.”

  Justice is too good for them, he thought.

  Their hostess, Praetor Athame, grabbed his leg and hauled them to the deck. She wore the same black uniform he did with the eye-in-the-galaxy pin on her lapel. Their eyes, hers purple and his brown, were unusual for their order. It made him wonder if she was like him—not manufactured, as the other Abyssians were, but converted into Daedalus’ brood of peacekeepers.

  Sorina twisted around to look at her without letting go of his torso. Nero frowned as Athame put a hand on his arm, transferring the benefit of her magnetic soles to keep them on the deck.

  “You are in shock,” she transmitted to him through Prospero without his authorization; direct contact between Abyssians was automatic. “What we have just witnessed was tragic, but we have other concerns. The virus you brought aboard the ship is seizing control of its systems, and shutting down everything but propulsion and navigation.”

  “Use your voice when talking. Your direct transmission bothers me,” Nero said.

  Athame cocked an eyebrow up. “Very well. The virus is shutting down life support. You organics will have only hours to live.”

  “It won’t affect you?” Sorina asked.

  “I am not a cyborg. I have no organic components.”

  “You are an android?” she asked.

  “In a manner of speaking; that is the simplest explanation,” Praetor Athame responded.

  “So, you’re saying we’re about to freeze to death or suffocate on carbon dioxide?” he asked.

  “No. Freezing to death on a ship without life-support is a mistaken idea held by those who do not often traverse the stars. We are in a sealed environment traveling through what is effectively a vacuum. The heat generated by the ship’s machinery can only radiate into space through the electro-magnetic spectrum as infra-red light. This rate is far below the rate at which the inside of the ship will accumulate heat from its engine,” she said.

  “So, what are you saying?” he asked.

  “She is saying we are going to cook to death long before our oxygen is used up,” Sorina answered.

  He frowned. “That’s an uplifting thought.”

  It’s basic thermodynamics, Prospero added. We are in serious trouble.

  Nero growled, refusing to accept death before he had a chance to avenge Kiertah Rega—Setha, as she called herself—had called herself. Thermody-whatever be damned, he would see Revenant dead first.

  “How do we turn the life-support back on?” he asked after a deep breath to calm himself.

  “With my systems cut off from the ship’s controls we will have to do it manually. The best solution would be to isolate the life support system from the master control protocols, then physically reactivate them.”

  “What will that involve?” Sorina asked.

  “The system is located in the engineering section of this vessel. We will have to go there to manipulate the machinery,” Athame responded.

  “What’s the catch?” he asked.

  “This vessel is fully equipped to carry out a variety of assignments for Daedalus. Those include combat and infiltration missions. There is a full complement of DS-109 combat robots and DSA-100’s under the direct command of the master control system,” Athame responded.

  “Which means they’re under Qismat’s control.” He scowled.

  “Excuse me, but what is a DSA-100? I have never heard of that model before.” Sorina wriggled around to face Athame with her back to him, pressing her hands on his arms so he did not let go of her.

  Curious, I don’t know what they are either, Prospero added.

  Athame stared at them for a moment before answering. “DSA-100 stands for Daedalus Systems Autosimilacra model 100. They are platforms designed for infiltration into humanoid species with an electro-mimetic polymer encasing their robotic frames. My own chassis was upgraded to the DSA-100 three standard years ago.”

  “Spy robots?” Sorina asked.

  “They are useful for a variety of functions,” Athame said. “Though not as durable as a DS-109, they are capable of combat operations as well as infiltration and intelligence gathering.”

  “So what you’re saying is we have an army of armored robots, and another of shape-shifting robots, between us and staying alive?” Nero took a deep breath.

  “Yes.” Athame stared at them with unsympathetic eyes.

  It would seem we don’t have a choice but to fight our way out, Prospero said.

  It would seem not, he thought back. “So, how do we go about this?”

  “It is too dangerous for your symbiotic cerebral computer and me to connect with the ship’s mainframe. What you designated the Qismat virus can infect our systems. Getting around the ship will be complicated.” Praetor Athame walked across the deck still holding onto Nero and Sorina. The magnets in her feet made clicking noises as they activated and deactivated in perfect time with her steps. If not for the sleeveless long coat floating about her person, it would be easy to think she was moving in full gravity.

  “Excuse me, but wouldn’t it be simpler just to go for Qismat directly?” Sorina asked. “Re-establishing life support seems like a good idea, but wouldn’t a better one be to just get rid of it?”

  She has a point, Prospero said.

  Nero
looked at Athame.

  “The computer core is farther away than life support. However, it is the superior target. If we can isolate it we may be able to reboot life support independently.”

  “May?”

  “It is not guaranteed,” Athame said.

  “If we shut down the core, at least nothing will be shooting at us while we work on life support,” Sorina said.

  “All right, let’s go after it then.”

  “This door leads into the ship’s corridors.” Athame moved to the curved wall of the chamber.

  He didn’t see what she was talking about. To him the spherical chamber appeared as smooth and unbroken as the inside of a ball.

  “Once I force this door it will set off alarms in the mainframe. Your Q-virus will know we are trying something. I calculate we have seven hours to reach the computer core and isolate it before the air-temperature rises too high to sustain your lives.”

  Nero drew his pistol. The Shiragawa GX-228 was a gift from Baron Mitsugawa received just before they left Taiumikai. It was fitting that he would start the process of revenge with it.

  “That weapon’s use is inadvisable in a micro-gravity environment,” Athame said.

  “It’s got a high energy laser below the gauss barrel.” He turned the weapon to show her.

  “How many shots before it requires recharging?” she asked.

  Prospero linked to the targeting and information computer mounted on its side and fed Nero the information.

  “Six, and it has a built-in kinetic recharger.”

  Athame nodded. “Remember not to use the gauss function.”

  He frowned. “I’m not an idiot.”

  Are you sure about that? Prospero asked, drawing another growl from his throat.

  “You and I are strong enough to engage the defensive platforms on this vessel in hand to hand combat once you run out of charges. They are armed with high energy laser weapons.”

  He nodded and looked at Sorina. “You ready for this?”

  She looked up into his eyes. Her ears twitched. “I will stay behind you.”

  He smiled for a moment, then realized that she was the least protected of the three of them and had only a gauss pistol on her hip. He flipped the GX around and handed it to her grip-first.

  “Nero?” she said.

  “I’ll be fine. You take it.”

  She blinked and accepted the weapon with an adept hand. It looked almost too big for her, but she manipulated it easily in the zero-gravity environment of the ship.

  Letting go of them, Praetor Athame pressed on a section of the wall before her with increasing force. For several moments nothing happened, then with a blast of air a seal broke and an oval-shaped section of wall retreated from the chamber’s surface. She placed both hands on the middle of it and pushed downward. Centimeter by centimeter the door fought her, hissing like a serpent as she drew it towards the floor. She gave no signs of struggle, working in silence until the portal was wide enough for them to float through. Beyond, a corridor that appeared to be little more than a broad space between pipes, cables, and girders, stretched out into darkness.

  “There’s no deck?” He peered into the inky blackness ahead.

  “This ship is not designed for biological use,” Athame responded. “I suggest you switch your optics to infra-red. I do not think the Q-virus will turn the lights on as we move through the ship.”

  Prospero did as she suggested and the shadows cloaking the corridor vanished in the gray light. Though everything around him lacked color, as his vision was restricted to black and white when using heat to see, it was still better than being blind.

  Athame stepped over the oval portal’s lip and floated up into the air. He breathed in deep, filling his nostrils with Sorina’s sharp, cinnamon scent, and let her go. Together they pushed off the portal’s doorsill to follow after the Praetor.

  With his enhanced vision, Nero now saw that the corridor stretched out over a hundred-meters before ending in a T-intersection. Though it was difficult to make them out, small variations in the pattern of pipes and girders seemed to indicate several side-passages breaking off from the main route. The two of them proceeded using the naked structure of the ship as hand and footholds to maneuver. Athame, using her internal magnets for propulsion, lead them down a side corridor about a third of the way to the intersection where a larger conduit connected at an angle. They weren’t far down its length before a sound like rain on sheet metal filled the air ahead.

  She halted her motion and signaled them to grab the nearest pipes.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “That is a strange noise to hear on a ship,” Sorina said.

  Praetor Athame extended her left hand. The flesh flowed back like hot wax, revealing the dull-gray, skeletal structure beneath for a moment before the digits flipped up towards her wrist like the petals of a metal flower. Protruding from her palm was a shallow, white dome. “The noise is one of the ship’s defenses. Prepare yourself.”

  “For what?” he asked. The clicking grew louder, sounding like hard rain on a metal roof.

  “SX-032 Defender ‘bots,” she answered.

  He frowned. “What are those?”

  The clicking storm enveloped them. It was so loud that he could barely hear himself think. The hair stood up on the back of his neck as he cast about, unable to spot the source of the noise.

  Electrolocation function, he thought to Prospero, and his personal electromagnetic field extended out, strengthening and merging with that of the ship. Every disturbance in the field registered in his mind, and Prospero processed the information into a three-dimensional wire-frame picture he laid over Nero’s vision. Each cable and pipe around them became invisible, and behind them he saw the cause of the sonic rain. The robots were small, perhaps no larger than two of his hands put together, had a segmented, oval body, six legs, and a short, curved tail.

  “They’re behind the pipes,” he said.

  “Where?” Sorina asked with the GX at the ready.

  “Everywhere.” Nero frowned, searching for targets in the structure around them. He noticed Athame pointing the silver dome at the conduits.

  They look like Earth scorpions, but without pincers.

  They look like what? He thought back.

  Never mind, Prospero said a moment before the noise stopped. His eyes darted around, seeking any sign of motion.

  “Be ready,” Athame stated.

  The small robots swarmed around the pipes as one. Their tails came up, aiming at the group like a hundred glassy stingers. For a moment they puzzled Nero, and then he realized what the glass at the end of their tails must be. With a shout he kicked off the wall, angling himself towards Sorina. He wrapped her up in his arms at the moment of impact and sent them both flying towards the pipes. A second before they struck he felt a searing pain on his back and gritted his teeth. When they hit both he and Sorina let out a grunt, but instead of rebounding they jolted as his coat caught on something and yanked taut, sending them bouncing like a yo-yo to slam into the conduits again. The second impact sent a bolt of pain through him so intense that he lost consciousness. When he came to, Sorina was floating up and away, scrambling to try and grab something to stop herself with her free hand and both, long-fingered feet while the air throbbed with the hum of high-power electronic weapons.

  She let out a groan when a laser sent a long welt rising up along her neck and returned fire with the GX. The weapon hummed, and a spot lit up on her target, smoked, and bloomed into an explosion that blew the small robot apart.

  Athame turned this way and that, leveling her weaponized arm at their attackers. Everywhere she pointed it sparks flew from the small robots and they twitched themselves off the pipes, going dead in the air. She moved with inhuman speed, destroying them in swaths, but they continued to tag her with their lasers. The polymer covering her metal frame blackened, and her clothing burned itself open, peeling off her form in black petals fringed in flame.

&nb
sp; Thirty-two percent of your body has first and second degree burns and deep lacerations, Prospero reported while Nero struggled to free himself from his seared clothing. His coat stubbornly refused to dislodge itself from a narrow gap between two pipes where it became caught. Dispatching nanomeds and dulling pain nerves.

  More spots on his body flared up as the defense ‘bots took advantage of his relative immobility. He felt skin and muscle part in a long line from his shoulder to his neck, and a scream spilled forth from his mouth. The pain seemed to boost his strength, and he managed to pull himself to the deck by his coat, then used his legs to launch himself up. The torn and burned garment ripped apart, and he careened up into the pipes over his head. Sparks flew through his vision, but he managed to grasp one of them in his hand and stopped his momentum.

  Athame, we’re going to lose fighting like this, he transmitted.

  “There is nowhere to retreat. They will kill us if we do not stop them.” She swept her dome across another group of the swarming bots, sending them to join their companions in the increasingly dense cloud of fried drones.

  He gritted his teeth. I will not let it end like this.

  A thump drew his attention to where Sorina landed beside him, gripping the conduits with her hand-like feet. Her amber, cat’s eyes locked on his for a moment, then she closed them in concentration.

  “Wait, are you doing what I think you’re doing? Athame said it was too dangerous.” Panic seized him. Losing Setha was bad enough, he could not bear the thought of losing Sorina, too.

  “She said Prospero and herself would be harmed. I am not like either of you. The Q-virus does not have the access codes to my cerebral computer.”

  He was about to object again, but the swarm of defense ‘bots twitched and floated off the pipes in unison. For a long minute he listened, hearing only the hum of the ship’s engine.

  “Impressive,” Athame stated. Most of her clothing and her hair was burned or half-melted. She looked like a charred mannequin with purple eyes. “You shut them down. How did you do that? No organic life form has been able to hack Daedalus’ code before.”