It didn’t take long for those friends to throw him a lifeline. [“Adam, get out of there!”] Kaufield practically ‘screamed’ at him in response. [“Open the hatch to your right and, for God’s sake, get the HELL out of there while you still can!”]
An instant too late, the tactical database supplied him with the most likely answer. Rising to its feet, the creature reached up toward its right shoulder with its bloody left forearm and then swept it broadly to its left, throwing dozens of glittering trails of bright red blood droplets into the air. A sheet of blood sprayed across the room, some of it striking the watching Adam Roh. Caught completely by surprise, he realized in an instant that he would never know whether the alien actually saw the blood droplets ‘staining’ an invisible uniform or simply spotted precisely where in the room they vanished from its sight. As soon as it was confident that it had determined his location, the beast launched itself into the air without a second of hesitation and flashed toward him at breakneck speed. Adam fell backward in response, landing awkwardly against the metal wall and crying out sharply with surprise.
His reflexes took over from there, as did the automatic combat system protecting him. Bok was heavy, and it lowered its shoulder in an attempt to use its full weight against him. As Thomas had promised, the low speed impact absorption process was much improved since his first battle aboard the long since destroyed Crasel vessel. The alien collided with him in a burst of speed and strength that should have knocked him senseless, but it felt instead as though it had simply pressed its shoulder firmly against his abdomen. Bok stiffened in response, puzzled by the lack of weight behind its attack and straightened up in an attempt to visually locate its target. Claws tore at a body it could not see, and mild blue electrical discharges appeared seemingly out of nowhere as these newest attacks were also automatically repelled. The creature snorted angrily in response.
As it did so, Adam caught a brief sniff of fetid breath so terrible he was convinced it might have melted steel. Its jaws snapped at his throat – only the personal defensive shield recognizing a low-speed impact and popping instantly into place saved his life. Screaming with panic and anger, he placed both of his hands against the beast’s chest and shoved hard. Bok flew upward in response to Adam’s counterattack before somersaulting backwards through the air as the force of his blow carried it across the room. He watched the alien slam hard against the far wall and collapse to the floor. A burst of personal satisfaction rushed through him, and he was silently grateful that the strength upgrades were also responding to his impulses so reliably. But the alien was not done with him and it instantly launched itself into the air a second time, leaping effortlessly over the lengths of both quashing missiles in an attempt to renew its assault. Again, the speed at which it was able to move was so swift and intimidating that he reacted purely on instinct.
Adam raised his hands protectively, pulling sharply back on his fists and releasing massive, double-barreled pulses from his wrist guns – much more powerful blasts than the usual stun settings. The twin shots of energy punched twin holes the size of saucers in the alien’s torso and abdomen and the non-stop trail of memories and thoughts flowing from alien to humanoid brain terminated just as abruptly as the creature’s life.
The body landed heavily next to him this time, slamming into the wall right beside him. Adam kicked at it with disgust, sending it flopping onto its back, his arms still raised in front of him and ready to fire another blast. Fortunately, the impact of his first set of energy pulses appeared to have killed it instantly. Angry red eyes appeared to stare blankly at nothing, dimming slightly as the alien beast lay where it landed, a dark, pasty-green blood of its own leaking out onto the metallic deck plating. Utterly revolted, Adam backed away from it and leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to take deep breaths and failing due primarily to the overwhelming stink of death. It took him a few minutes to gather himself, during which time he could hear various thought transmissions from his friends entering his mind, asking – no demanding – to know if he was all right.
[“Yes,”] he responded only after he was certain he recovered his composure.
Opening the nearby hatch as Kaufield had initially suggested, he stepped into the outside corridor and breathed in the relatively fresh air available there very gratefully. He simply stood there for a while longer, silently exchanging private thoughts with his friends back home and doing his best to recover from what had been a truly terrifying experience.
[“I’m all right,”] he assured his friends back home. [“It’s dead, but not before I was able to extract at least some information from its mind. I hope you don’t mind, but I’d rather go over the specifics of all this a little later. I’ve got to get back to the engine room and protect the Crasel. There may be more of these… things… walking around on this ship.”]
[“Adam, you might need to take a few more minutes,”] suggested Dr. Simmons. [“Good God, you’ve just been through an experience that would turn most people’s hair white. We’re rattled back here after simply watching and hearing all of that on VIDEO.”]
[“I’m good and the battle still rages for control of this ship,”] he insisted, reading the latest tactical updates on his eye HUD and coming to a decision.
Before anyone could order him to do anything, he gulped in several more deep breaths of fresh air and then re-entered the cargo bay, retrieving his long hunting knife from the sheath at his waist. Unfortunately, the job he had in mind was grisly and took much longer to complete than anticipated. After that, he had to spend even more time – all while breathing in the terrible smells – searching for what he needed. Several small cargo crates were stacked in a corner, and after opening one he discovered exactly what he needed. Cloth sacks of grain were inside, and it took only minutes to empty one of them so that he could insert the bloody object held in his right hand. Surprisingly, his friends allowed him to complete the task, waiting until he stepped back out into the corridor before contacting him.
[“Adam. Adam, are you okay?”] asked Dr. Simmons with true concern for his well-being. He ignored her for just a moment, tying the cloth sack securely to his waist.
[“I’m fine,”] he told her bluntly, emotions firming up solidly now that the tough part was done. [“All this equipment you folks trusted me with is working… it’s keeping me informed and grounded in reality.”] He lowered his rifle into firing position and began moving once again past the still forms of the unconscious men lying randomly along the corridor’s length.
[“Where are you going?”] Karen Simmons inquired patiently.
[“Trust me, I know what has to be done,”] he began slowly, wondering if they would understand his line of reasoning. [“I’m going to help the Zaketh and the Crasel finish this… I’m going to help them take control of this vessel, and then I’m going to install myself as Captain so that we can retain control over both of the quashing weapons on board. If necessary, I’ll dismantle one of them myself.”]
[“Adam, you don’t have to do this,”] protested Noah’s presence almost immediately. [“We aren’t operating on any sort of specific timetable. My people have observed the Wasteland for centuries.”]
[“Well I AM on a timetable, one that will put a STOP to all of this nonsense as soon as possible so that I can go home!”] he fired right back in response. His thoughts crystalized and his confidence returned, fueled by the knowledge that his defenses had prevailed throughout even the most devastating of encounters. He focused his thoughts around a single word. [“Kuth,”] he thought to himself.
There was a frustrated pause prior to the expected response. [“‘Kuth’ what? What does that mean?”]
[“That thing I killed… it calls itself a Kuth,”] he informed everyone, grateful once again that he had followed his instincts and taken the risks that he had. His mind now contained precious, previously unknown information regarding this mysterious, frightening new chameleonic species, one that also seemed to be extremely involved with the events
taking place within the Wasteland. Expression fixed solidly and reflecting his resolve, he continued his quick-paced run back toward the ship’s engine room.
I know so much more now, Adam thought uneasily to himself. And I know something else too. I know precisely WHY Janney Stox and other soldiers fighting within the Wasteland are so scared of the supernatural… because they or others have undoubtedly seen things like the scene I witnessed today, scenes that would scar a man emotionally for the rest of his life.
He should know after all, since he was now one of those people.
PROJECT WASTELAND
Pathfinder Series: Book Two
Chapter VI: The Study Of A Ruthless Mind
Aboard the Yakiir warship…
To Adam Roh’s relief, the Crasel were still in control of the engine room when he arrived. As he rounded the last curving sweep, he called out a challenge and heard Arte Kasik shout back at him with instant recognition. Once he was sure he wasn’t going to get shot at, he disabled the stealth shield, returning his body to a visible state. Kasik the happy warrior slapped him on the shoulder as he entered the still-dark chamber, eyes widening as he noticed the human’s appearance. “Well now, but don’t you look a sight,” the Crasel told him with obvious astonishment. “You look like you fought a war all by yourself and lost.”
Adam removed his helmet, noting that it was covered with splashes of blood – both red and green. His uniform was in the same shape except that the patches of blood were nearly dry. “How are things here guys?” he asked curiously, noting that the other three soldiers were encircled around the port hatchway. At some point after he initially left, they had closed the emergency fire door, blocking the way in.
“We had a few of those Yakiir blokes try and retreat to this area,” noted Janney Stox with a gruff laugh as he briefly thought back to the encounter. “They were quite persistent and we had to chase them off with grenades. Then we closed the emergency door and it’s been pretty quiet ever since.”
“It is pretty quiet, isn’t it,” Adam agreed, pausing briefly to listen. “I haven’t heard any explosions or gunfire for some time now, as a matter of fact.” He reached up and touched the Zaketh ear transceiver. “Snee Vasten, are you there?” he asked curiously. “Can you hear me?”
At first, only static burned back at him in response. “Yes, I’m still here,” came the reply after a time. “We’ve been very busy in combat, but thankfully everything appears to have gone well.”
“Good,” nodded Adam triumphantly. “Are things out there under control? It sounds like it is… everything is pretty darn quiet in your neck of the woods, as a matter of fact.”
A small brief whine of electronic feedback, probably a result of local jamming efforts, accompanied the response. “Things are surprisingly fine. Neither shuttle has moved since we docked the Pyrhh against the mother ship. Everything on the port side of the warship belongs to us, and we have also managed to capture the vessel’s Command Center.” As Vasten spoke, Arte Kasik, Tran Wuu and Cren Hollis watched curiously from their defensive positions near the emergency door.
“Your Captain can go ahead and order additional men to storm the starboard side of the ship,” Adam suggested. “Expect some resistance, most of it light. I disabled everyone near the cargo bay, but there’s still a supply ship stuck amidships.” He hesitated for a moment, thinking. “We continue to hold control of the engine room, so nobody’s getting power to their primary systems back until we say so.”
“That’s good information to know,” snapped Vasten brusquely. “I’ll pass the word.”
“One more thing,” said Adam in a cautioning tone. “After being conscripted into your armed forces, the five of us were left behind to fend for ourselves when it looked as though the Pyrhh would fall. I figure your ship and crew ought to owe us something for that, since we then made it possible to capture this warship. I intend to keep her and pilot her further into the Wasteland in search of answers.”
“What kind of answers?”
“For now, suffice it to say that you and your Captain don’t know everything that’s going on. I’ll fill you in on the details once we link up. But take a good look around,” he urged sternly. “Have you ever seen a Wasteland warship in such pristine condition before? It looks like the whole thing just rolled off an assembly line, for crying out loud. Then there are the new uniforms our enemy is wearing, along with the new, freshly oiled firearms…”
“Don’t forget the crappers,” added Janney Stox from across the room. “There is actually a room with a crapper in here… and it even has running water!”
“I look forward to getting… answers.” Vasten’s tone was suddenly and noticeably more crude.
“I’m serious about taking command of this ship,” repeated Adam for clarity’s sake. “You and your men are going to have to choose whether or not to stay here and support me or return to the Pyrhh. Things will be even more difficult if your Captain has plans to claim this ship as his prize. It would really be nice if I could count on your support and at least a few additional hands to help.”
“My support will depend.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not you can actually do what you say you’re going to do. We have a lot of armed men out here who are spitting mad, and if I remember correctly your number is five.”
“Understood,” Adam said, terminating the transmission and shaking his head wryly. “Vasten is a man who chooses to walk a tightrope until the very last moment, then decides which side to jump toward.” He pointed toward the area behind Janney Stox. “I say we close the emergency bulkhead on the starboard exit so that no one from that side of the ship finds their way in here. Then we can open the port exit and see what’s going on up front. The Zaketh are no doubt happy with their conquest, so it’s likely we won’t get shot at.”
“What about Vasten?” asked Tran Wuu inquisitively. “I hope you realize he’s not going to help you unless you can convince him, and I mean really convince him that you’re in charge.”
A bit nervously, Adam fingered the cloth sack still dangling from his waist and its repulsive contents. “Leave Vasten and their Captain to me,” he stated with more reassurance than he felt. “Suffice it to say, they have absolutely no idea what’s really going on here.” He exhaled, struggling to control his growing anxiety. “And I don’t think any of us will unless we do some good old fashioned detective work.”
*
Adam checked in with Snee Vasten one more time before they moved forward through the heavily smoke-filled corridors along the port side of the Yakiir battle cruiser. His transmission was just a quick safety call, to let the Zaketh know that the people coming from astern were friendlies. Getting shot at would be unnerving to say the least, but considering what had already taken place Adam wasn’t all too concerned. Even so, he waved the four Crasel soldiers to his rear, making certain that they were well shielded – if the need arose – by his defenses. There were bleeding, sightless corpses and several dozen wounded lying in the corridors they moved through, all of them currently unarmed. It was difficult to blame the Zaketh in this case – the chance to acquire brand new weaponry would be extremely rare in the Wasteland. Many of them must have instantly snatched up the Yakiir weapons wherever possible.
If the Zaketh stuck to their usual practices, they would be in the front of the ship after locking off all access to the rear of the ship. Adam’s theory proved true once they reached the forward third of the vessel and paused at a securely locked hatch. In a hurry to reunite with the others, he radioed Vasten one more time and then knocked on the hatch three times, followed by a pause and two more knocks. He repeated the signal until the hatch finally unlocked from the other side. A pair of Zaketh soldiers looked them over thoroughly, weapons held at the ready, before allowing them past the opening.
“You’re Vasten’s buddies?” one of them asked curiously. “The Crasel soldiers?”
“That’s right,” nodded Adam with a dry smi
le. “Where can I find him?”
“Most of our forces are gathering in the Mess Hall, up forward. I think the Captain is going to speak.”
Oh joy, Adam thought to himself with mild apprehension. I was hoping for a Captain, not a politician.
His plan was to approach Vasten and the Captain first and then pull them aside long enough to visit with them privately. As most impromptu plans go, however, this one turned out to be just as futile as most. Everyone he met stared at the Crasel – and Adam in particular – noting how beat up and dirty they looked. Adam drew the most attention simply because he was the one who was covered nearly head to toe with blood from two different species. Red and green – drying blood from Bok and the dead Yakiir Captain covered almost the entire front of his uniform, painting him with a ferocious appearance.
The Zaketh he encountered didn’t look much better, and it was immediately apparent that the battle to take the ship had come at a heavy price. Their uniforms were also soaked with blood, much of it their own. Tattered uniforms, powder burns and blood-soaked bandages were just a few of the things that he noticed at first glance. Many soldiers were simply sitting on the metal deck plating in the corridor; too weak after all of the fighting to even stand. “This isn’t even the worst of it,” one of the soldiers on guard duty promptly informed him. “The hard luck cases are down in the Infirmary, being treated by our Doctors. It was a fierce battle to be sure, but considering we almost got our asses kicked today, I think we should count ourselves lucky.”
“Why aren’t there more bodies up here?” Adam wondered inquisitively. There was a lot of blood on the walls and floor plating, but no sign of any corpses. “It looks terrible up here.”
“Most of the bodies have already been ejected out of airlocks,” the guard said with a nasty grin. “It doesn’t take long, in a closed environment like this one, before they start to smell.” Adam said nothing in response and turned away from the man thoroughly disgusted. Snee Vasten spotted him visiting with the soldier and joined both him and the Crasel at the Mess Hall’s port hatchway, flanked by a pair of heavily armed bodyguards. It was clear that the Zaketh officers were taking no chances, even with most of the ship secured.
The Pathfinder Trilogy Page 50
