by Greg Remy
Zoe’s mind immediately began plotting and was already raising alarms of the tough, if not nearly impossible, challenge of sneaking the Doctor past the Space Marshal, the waiting police, all prying eyes, and past such a frightened state that he may actually be able to articulate answers to her questions. She nodded her head, mentally preparing for the task ahead.
“Okay,” Zoe said.
Chapter 18
Doors
The lunar station, Polestar 7, was comprised of many connected structures over the surface of its moon. It had become, over hundreds of years, a central hub for many people as they continue on to their final destinations. It was a sorting labyrinth and its occupants navigated it expertly. Outbound and inbound flights filled and empted; hallways ebbed and flowed. It was like a colony of bees—a haze of flying ships around a hive while organized chaos filled its interior—and so Polestar 7 had commonly become known as the Hive. At the center of the Hive—the source of its continued efficiency—was an integrated computer bank, both powerful and intuitive, keeping the colony in order, and had been thus appropriately nicknamed, the Queen.
That is the spot, thought Zoe, as she reviewed the specs of the station on her lightcard to arrange their escape. Though it may very well be under security and most likely overseen by the Queen herself, it was the only place she could, ever so slightly, tweak the station’s protocols, diverting attention away from her party and procure a path to safety. That ratiocinative machine would be watching, analyzing, and worst of all, anticipating. It would be quite the task not to be stung on the way there.
The flight carrier elegantly heaved its massive body toward the docking bay. Zoe had left her seat with the Doctor and had reconvened with Darious to explain the escape plan. He wore an understandably long face. She responded with her own enthusiastic look, though underneath was a similarly long face.
Zoe was just finishing up a coding sequence on her lightcard when the ship swayed a moment and then stopped moving.
“We’re here,” she said and quickly stood up. Darious took her by her hand.
“Wait,” he said. She turned and looked in his eyes, those magnetic eyes. “Be safe Zoe.” She nodded and quickly left.
Upon reaching the Doctor’s floor, she saw he was no longer there, as planned. The Space Marshal was no longer in his seat either, also as planned. Then suddenly Dr. Saknussemm stepped out of the stairway corner, right next to Zoe. This was not planned. She stared at him wide eyed.
“What are you doing!?” she whispered in a strained voice.
“I.... I’ve lost the Marshal.”
He kept his hood low but spoke with a slight confidence she had not heard before from him. Perhaps there was indeed a bit of anarchism within the Doctor. Zoe scratched her chin. This was not at all part of her machination, but there was no arguing at this point. She turned and accessed the directory on the left wall. Other passengers were stretching and preparing their bags.
“Well, since you’re here, be a lookout. This may take a minute or so.”
Zoe and the Doctor stood back to back, him staring out while she opened up a small panel below the directory. Zoe could hear increasing murmurs and huddled her body closer to her work so people wouldn’t see what she was doing. She navigated to the root menu of the directory and placed her lightcard near the exposed service panel. She wirelessly sent her newly written code into it and waited for the prompt to show up.
‘Initiate Theta Protocol?’ the computer screen flashed.
“Why yes indeed,” said Zoe as she typed in a ‘y’ and pressed enter.
The hack was easier than she anticipated and suddenly the ship slightly rocked. Passengers all paused and looked around. The Doctor, though aware of Zoe’s plan, fidgeted at her back.
“That’ll do it,” she said as she replaced the panel.
Dr. Saknussemm crouched over her, surveying her handiwork. She tapped on the directory screen, returning it to its normal function and turned to the Doctor. He raised an eyebrow at the lightcard and then at her.
“Well Mi... Miss Zoe, i... it seems you’ve done this before.”
She let loose a small giddy smile.
The carrier vessel picked itself back up and gently wobbled as it lifted its great burden back into the air. Confused passengers were quick to retake their seats as it begun lumbering forward. A voice came in through the intercom, the same female voice from earlier.
“Sorry folks. It seems we have been redirected to a new bay. We will be docked shortly.” There a slight groan from the crowd. “Thank you for your patience.”
Zoe and the Doctor hurriedly made their way toward the exit on the first level where a waiting Darious sighed with relief. The craft swayed once more as it again landed, and Zoe could hear the final diminution of the engines. Unlocking clamps thudded on the outside of the ship and its exit doors opened. The three departed and hastily made their way from the outbound corridor to the main passageway among the crowds of the Hive. So far, so good, thought Zoe.
Though they had been so fortunate as to avoid any extra attention thus far, that run of good luck was now over. The Queen had evidently been a busy bee. Black uniformed bodies synchronously appeared at opposite ends of the bumbling hallway. Their large statures and jet-black regalia clearly set them apart from the crowds. Darious gasped at the sight of them to the front and Dr. Saknussemm likewise at the sight of them at the rear.
“There!” Zoe spotted a maintenance door. They quickly worked their way through the crowds to the door. She fumbled with the electronic lock at its handle. “Come on. Come on.”
Darious and the Doctor teetered over her shoulder, their close nervous breaths disrupting her concentration. She kept the lightcard low in one hand while the other manipulated the lock. The mechanical bolt made a scraping sound and the door opened. Zoe thrust the frail Doctor in first, followed by Darious. Once she was through, she quickly closed the door and deleted its electronic communication protocols. Darious propped up a metal beam to the door’s handle. The three took a team breath in and it was now when Zoe realized they were in a dingy, neglected service hallway. It was empty, save for a few discarded items here and there, no doubt from workers too lazy to actually put them away. Zoe looked up. No cameras either. Good. The hallway went on for a short distance, about 50 meters or so, before leading to another corridor.
Zoe urged the group forward and they hustled through to its end, exiting at a large maintenance tunnel. She peered left and right as they entered in; they were still alone.
“Man,” she stated, “security sure is a big deal here.”
“Did you see the rifles those men carried?” asked Darious.
Zoe had not. “They were armed?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head. Then they were not typical port security.
Darious jogged over to a digital sign on the wall. “According to this map, the central computer is that way.” He pointed to the far end of the large passageway. “Then we take Corridor 405 to its end and left through Door 22.”
“Okay,” responded Zoe.
Once more, the three were off. Darious led while Zoe held up the rear. It was evident the Doctor was straining to keep up; he seemed to have a limp about him. His whole body seemed so much older than it was. He looked afflicted and maltreated. Perhaps from Pantheon making good on its threats, she thought. In her mind’s eye she repulsively imagined the Doctor turning away from some evil research and being beaten in response. Imprisoned perhaps. A slave perhaps. Though at some point he must have procured an escape. She played out Dr. Saknussemm’s subsequent life as they continued to hurry through the corridor. Zoe imagined the Doctor hiding in his solitary outpost, eroding away year after year and shuddering from the memories of what had been done to him. Conceivably, that trauma mixed with his precocity and a dash of paranoia had been what nourished his ingenious inventions. The long duration of terrified tinkering in his lab had no doubt led to the worsening of his condition, both mental and phys
ical—an atrophy of sane mind and staunch muscle—with the final result being the broken man now hobbling in front of her. Zoe elutriated her mind. It was all conjecture; she had very little facts to work with. One thing was certain though, something extraordinary had happened to this man.
Upon reaching Door 22, with thankfully zero resistance, they paused while Zoe started deciphering the lock. The Doctor was taking wheezing breaths in. The ceramic sapphire door had a small, oblong porthole at eye level crisscrossed with security wiring. Zoe noted the thickness of the window. Nothing of importance beyond here... In any case, she would make short work of the electronic lock.
“It’s... it’s...,” Dr. Saknussemm began.
Zoe heard the distinct sound of heavy boots. They were echoing from far down the corridor and were certainly getting louder. Urgency impelled her to work with unparalleled legerity. Just ten seconds later, she had hacked the door open and the three clambered inside. Darious tore a safety poster from the wall and applied it over the porthole. Zoe nodded with approval.
“Seems you too have an undiscovered knack for anarchy.” Zoe winked at him.
The room they had entered was narrow; the floor was composed of old steel grates and the ceiling revealed ventilation tubes. At the opposite end was another door with a larger porthole and a security card reader near its handle. Zoe walked up to it and eyed the room beyond. Several rows of computer hardware created neat shelves with blinking lights. She spotted a control console.
“Bingo.”
Darious and the Doctor stared at the door they had come through as if at any moment it would explode and soldiers would fusillade into the room like shrapnel. Zoe worked the voltaic latch, but to her dismay it countervailed all her efforts. Crap, she thought. Darious must have noticed the worried expression on her face, for he came forward and pressed a boot to the card reader. Putting his weight behind it, he thrusted forward and the force from his leg cleft the mechanism from its wall mount.
“Ah,” said Zoe. She had not thought of that.
She took up the newly exposed wiring and made quick work of it. The door slid open. Inside, Zoe quickly took a seat at the computer console. Her agile fingers navigated through the vast framework of the Queen.
All she could hear was the soft hum of cooling fans within the core room and the typing from her own fingers. Her thoughts were concentrated on the single task at hand. Darious entered in and began walking around, surveying the equipment. The Doctor appeared a minute later, his vision keen on the door beyond with the poster. From the corner of her eye, Zoe could see his hands were shaking.
“Just a moment more,” she said calmly. “I’m setting up a sequence I can initiate from my lightcard.” The Doctor coughed several times and leaned up against the wall. “It’ll falsify our whereabouts, tricking the computer to think we’re at the East end,” Zoe cracked her neck, “while we will be rendezvousing with a ship being autonomously prepped on the West end.” Zoe was suddenly submerged in a torrent of coding. “The Queen has so many verification subsystems. It’s like a giant balancing act with her. There we go. All set. Would you like a ship with cup holders or with massaging seats?” Darious came up to the control console and looked at the ocean of data Zoe had been swimming through.
“Oh, a massage will do.” He waived his hand in a nonchalant manner. Zoe giggled in amusement. The Doctor did not partake in their good humor; he continued his death stare at the door. After a minute more, Zoe finished coding and stood up.
“Okay gang. Time to go.” Zoe and Darious huddled at the sapphire door and listened intently. No sounds came from the other side. Zoe brought out her lightcard, which had on its screen a large neon-green square with the words ‘Press Me.’ She did so. A moment after, a clear yell broke the silence from the other side of the door and footsteps were heard coming and then going from one end of the hall to the other.
Then all was silent. They carefully opened the door and the three made their way down the opposite hall. They came upon a doorway leading back into the masses. With a deep breath in, Zoe opened it and once more they were among the clamorous crowds.
The group crossed the busy hallway and headed for the departing flight back to Port Auborne. The crowds were thinning in this direction.
“We’re flight 0-20,” Zoe said to her companions.
Darious pointed to a sign above one of the hallways and Zoe and the Doctor followed. The final corridor to the awaiting ship was empty, as the only occupants who knew of the flight where the three currently rushing toward it. When they reached the pale white door, Zoe manned the podium and opened it. A cold gust blew out. Placed before them was a small spaceliner parked at the center of a huge enclosed bay.
The three wasted no time and hastened toward the craft. Just then, a loud submerged bang resounded somewhere from Zoe’s left. Looking towards the sound, she saw a sealed hatchway a ways away from them along the perpendicular wall. There was another hollow bang and the door burst open. A single man stepped out, posing heroically for a second and then turning his gaze towards them. Stepping into a run, he raised a long pistol from his side. A shot rang out.
The three froze. Zoe stared at the man wide eyed. He had the stature of a military roughneck and wore a dark cloak with a darker vest and an eccentric brown headgear. It took Zoe a moment to call to mind the elongated brim and its front folded center. A cowboy hat. The face under it seemed machine-like with deadened eyes and a square jaw overlain by shadowy stubble.
“Run!” shouted Darious, snapping Zoe out of her stupor just as another shot fractured the air.
Zoe could feel the heat from the plasma bolt pass near her cheek. At this she bound back in surprise and then leapt forward into a full sprint. She pulled out her lightcard and activated the ship’s boarding sequence, via falsified command from the confused Queen. Lights from underside of the craft out to its wingtips blinked on and its primer thrusters ignited. An entryway on the private vessel’s side began to slide open and a ramp extended down to the ground.
Two more shots boomed, prompting the group to run faster. The Doctor was falling behind. Zoe slackened her pace and heaved him by the arm. They were nearing the ship, though the man in the cowboy hat was quickly gaining on them. A loud shot came again, this time hitting flesh.
“Agghh!” yelled out Dr. Earl Saknussemm, twisting and falling to the floor. He rolled over once and onto his back, his arms and legs sprawled out. The shot had burned through his upper torso.
“Shit!” cried Zoe.
She grabbed his arm with both of hers, attempting to hoist him back up. Another gun blast hit the Doctor’s midsection, instantly scorching cloth and flesh to black. He screamed, and his eyes darted about as panic took hold.
Darious was far up ahead, already making his way up the ramp. “Zoe!” he called.
She slumped to the Doctor’s side and propped up his worn face in her palms.
“Doctor.” Her eyes were beginning to puff up. Doct...”
He coughed and blackened saliva drizzled down his lips. “Zoe.” His face spasmed in pain. “Here... here.... poc... poc...” He tried at his breast pocket with a hand, but it fell to his side. “It’s... it’s...” Another shot rang out, this time evidently aimed at Darious as it ricocheted off the ship. “...the... the... truth.” Dr. Saknussemm’s head slumped back and he lost consciousness.
Zoe, through watery eyes and a thumping heart, reached in the Doctor’s front pocket and withdrew a small rectangular object. It had been grazed by one of the gun shots. She gripped it tightly in her hand, blackened by the Doctor’s wounds. Zoe looked up and saw the man nearly upon her. She gasped and lunged forward into a sprint. In moments she was up the ramp and yelling for Darious to take off.
The spacecraft quivered as it lifted up from the ground with quick, uneven thruster pulses. The ceiling of the great dome split in the middle and the two halves began retracting. At this, red alarms and sirens blared all around the docking bay. A great wind blew out from the closing
hatch of the ship to the bay and then out to the vacuum of space. Zoe clung on to the nearest seat until the ship’s door was completely sealed and the air settled. Outside, the bay was quickly depressurizing and the gap above widening, fully exposing the bay to the cosmos. Zoe sat in the chair and panted, looking out of the passenger window. The figure with the gun had turned around and was sprinting back toward the door from which he had come. His clothes flapped wildly about him while a hand firmly held the hat to his head. Dr. Saknussemm was on the floor, unmoving; ash rising from his body and out to eternal space.
The ship lifted higher and higher, up through the great door, tilting portside as it aligned itself with its course and shot out from the station. Zoe became conscious of her daze and ran to the cockpit where Darious was strapped in to the captain’s seat, manning the spacecraft. She sat in the copilot’s chair and stared out at space for a minute before wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest.
Chapter 19
Don’t Expect Compliments from a Serpent
Rock-like fingers typed on a projected number pad. The signal connected. A brawny hand interlocked with its counterpart and muscular arms pushed the entanglement out, causing a deluge of cracking. A gentle woman’s voice came from the other end of the line.
“This is Mr. Achan’s office. Mr. Achan is not in—”
“This is Kappa.”
There was a pause. “One moment please.”
Kappa stretched out his shoulders and eased his back in the seat. Firmly gasping his head, he twisted it sharply to one side then to the other, creating more crepitate sounds. The cabin of his spacecraft echoed with tinny chirps. Kappa smirked as he considered the sounds not as echoes but as the actual ship itself flexing its couplings. He looked around the single quarters of the small superluminal space fighter, lacking any sort of creature comforts. He sighed. Where had it gone? At least he had his own musings.
