“That’s a fantastic assurance,” I remarked before crossing over to Mimic’s chair and unbuckling her. “You ready to go home?”
“Yes, very much so,” she said, voice low and warbling, as if she was a sim that’s memory crystal had been corrupted.
“Then let’s go to the bridge,” Gonzales said, coming up on the opposite side and draping one of Mimic’s arms over her shoulders. “We’ve got a wormhole to jump.”
We made our way down the hall and sat ourselves right back into our flight formation. Mimi and I in the back, Gonzales at the helm, Ciangi on the scanners and Bahn on the navigation array. We were silent yet again as we prepared to put our work to the test, and I gripped Mimic’s hand tightly.
“Here goes nothing,” Gonzales muttered, putting in the engine codes and gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.
Like usual, there was a beat of quiet while we waited for the mechanic parts of the ship to catch up. That second seemed to stretch on forever, containing both our salvation or our deaths at the head of a pin.
And then…the engines hummed to life and we were gliding forward, whipping through space like we hadn’t just been floating listlessly for over a week.
“Woohoo!” Gonzales yelled, kicking her feet against the underside of the console. “We did it!”
“I wouldn’t celebrate just yet,” Bahn countered. “We still have to make it through the wormhole itself.”
“Don’t worry about it,” the weapons engineer said with a manic grin. “I’ve got a good feeling about this. But just in case, everyone should hold on real tight.”
I didn’t need a second warning, bracing my feet and clasping the armrest with my free hand as we burst through the horizon of the fold in space.
Just like before, we were enveloped in an acid-induced collection of colors and lights, all winding around us like a child’s finger-painting that had radiated with neon and some other nuclear material. The swirling brightness of it all hurt my eyes, and I turned my head away only to see Mimi struggling in her chair.
Her face was shifting and warping before my eyes, bones rearranging themselves around her face in real time. It was certainly startling, but most of all, it was worrying. Was she okay? I couldn’t read her expression through the quickly changing landscape of her face and she wasn’t making any sound to indicate whether she was in pain or not.
I tried to open my mouth to call to her, but I couldn’t get my jaw muscles to cooperate. There was too much force exerting itself on my face. I could feel my skin pulling back and my eyelids struggling to even blink.
My whole world was reduced to trying to keep my skull from batting back and forth on my headrest, and my neck was screaming in protest. It did not appreciate the sudden and intense workout, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.
And then it stopped.
There was no warning, no automated voice from the computer to tell us that we were about to have a reprieve, just one moment we were in the most realistic rollercoaster sim of our lives, and then we were being shot into the unnatural calm of space.
Granted, that lasted all of ten seconds before we had to dodge an asteroid.
Gonzales set out a string of curses that I hadn’t ever imagined before, gripping the controls of the ship and piloting us through the suddenly very crowded sector of space we had shot into.
We probably should have remembered how close our little wrinkle in the fabric of reality was to a potentially lethal asteroid field, but we all make mistakes from time to time.
Hopefully this one wouldn’t kill us.
However, compared to the violent, nerve-wracking experience that was wormhole jumping without the appropriate tethering technology, the field passed quickly and easily, only one managing to lightly score one of our sides. Gonzales killed the power when we were on the other side and let out a long breath.
“That was fun,” she said, shooting a shaky smile to the rest of us.
“Yes, it was,” I replied. “Now let’s go get Mimic something to eat.”
Bon Appetite, it’s Dinner and a Show
It didn’t take us long to get back to a bit of space that had chunks of what had once been Mimic’s home floating through it. Seeing the bits and bobs of people-sized chunks of rock reminded me just how much we had chewed up and processed what might have been a flourishing civilization. Sure, they were primitive in the fact that they didn’t seem to have a concept of time, or aging, or technology, or tools, but they definitely knew they were alive, and they had a community enough for Mimic to say we had killed her family.
They were a people and we had basically drilled them to bits for our own greed.
“Get me to the airlock,” Mimic whimpered, her voice a lilting sigh.
I obeyed instantly, unbuckling her from the safety restraints and helping her to her feet. I could feel her shaking through my grip as I guided her to the airlock at the back of the ship. By the time we reached it, she was practically vibrating in my arms, not unlike our ship going through the wormhole.
“Stand back,” she murmured, trying to press me to the wall. “I’ll be all right.”
I wanted to tell her that I could protect her, but I needed to trust that she knew how to take care of herself. I stepped to the side, wrapping my arm through one of the safety straps attached to the wall.
With a strength I could never fathom, Mimi slowly peeled her enviro-suit off, placing it in one of the lockers before walking to the edge of the lock. With a pale, trembling hand, she pressed the button that opened the seal and she was yanked into space.
I had to bite back a shout of worry. She knew what she was doing. She knew what she was doing.
But as much as I repeated that mantra to myself, the five or so seconds it took the cabin to completely depressurize had me riddled with worry about whether she was safe or not. As soon as the insistent yanking ceased and I was returned to my feet once more, I walked to the edge of the lock and peered out.
She was in one piece, thank goodness, albeit not a human piece. I watched her, black, spikey and shifting, jump from rock to rock, boring into the celestial objects and taking out whatever nourishment she needed.
I could almost see her regaining strength with every passing moment. Her angles grew more angular, her edges sharper, her inky, depthless blackness more and more black. And suddenly, all the pain, all the fear, all the running for our lives was worth it.
Mimic was safe. Mimic had food. We could continue on our journey to find the rest of her peop—
“Uh, Higgens, where’s Mimi?”
“Out in space, feeding. Why?”
“Get her back on the ship right now.”
“What? Why? She’s hardly had enough time to feed.”
“Yeah, I get that might be the case, but guess what’s big and bad and just showed up on our scanner’s screen?”
“Giomatti?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Are you serious? So he just kept the whole crew floating in space for a whole week without calling in backup?”
“Well…now that I look at the readings, according to this solar calendar, we’ve been gone a day and a half.”
“What? How’s that possible?”
“I dunno. Folds in space, time is relative, the unexpected repercussions of untethered wormhole travel, you tell me. Point being, we lucked out that he hasn’t had enough time for backup to get here, but we’re going to be decidedly unlucky if he catches us with our airlock open and Mimic out playing with the rocks.”
“Right. I’ll try to grab her attention.”
“Good. And I would hurry.”
I knew that calling out to her wouldn’t do any good. It wasn’t like sound traveled through space very well and my older series of enviro-suit didn’t exactly have a speaker system built into it.
So, I tried waving emphatically, moving my arms about my head like a maniac. When that didn’t work, I decided to take a leap of faith, as it were.
It was im
possible to take a running jump with the magnetic boots, but I did my best. With all the effort I could muster, I launched myself into space.
“Mimi!”
My shapeshifter of a friend jerked up, and I swore she was looking at me. The next thing I knew, she was bounding across the rocks until I was caught between her tines, then I was quickly shuttled right back to the airlock.
Mimic shifted back into the form that I had come to know, but much brighter-eyed and blushing. She slammed the button to close the door and re-initiated the pressurization of the cabin.
“What’s going on?” she snapped as soon as there was enough atmosphere in the room to carry her voice to me.
“Giomatti’s here,” I answered, finally taking off my enviro-suit’s helmet. “But I think I might have a bit of a plan.” I looked down at my hands where I was holding the cherry-red piece of equipment. “I probably shouldn’t have taken this off.”
I had never really understood the phrase ‘sweating bullets’ before. They were solid, metal projectiles used by ancient Earth to maim and murder. That didn’t seem to have anything to do with sweating.
However, as I looked at all the displays, buttons, bits and bobs in front of me, I suddenly realized exactly what it meant. I was definitely in a cold sweat, my heart pounding a mile a minute while I rehearsed the steps of my plan again and again in my head.
It was crazy. Impossible, really. Yet I believed in it, and that was why I was sitting in the bridge of our little stolen ship, waiting for the message that I knew Giomatti couldn’t resist sending.
It came as soon as he was within range, his face showing up as the holo-display activated. It wasn’t pleasant seeing his visage again, even if it was slightly purpled from when I had given him what he had coming. His brows were furrowed with the rage that he was so comfortable with and I could practically feel his spittle as the holographic versions of it tried to spray into the room.
“Well, well, well, and you thought you were so clever that you could just steal government property and get away through one of the most dangerous sectors of space without any damage.”
He was speaking, of course, about the readings his ship was getting about ours. Environmental power was at a minimum, only thrusters were engaged and there were no real engine capabilities. Granted, he didn’t know that all of that was intentional, but I wanted to keep it that way.
“What’s that? Too much of a coward to show your face. I suppose that’s the best I can expect from a janitor and three idiots who somehow went through finer education without learning what the word treachery means.”
I responded quickly, pressing a couple of buttons and punching in an input code. Looking down at one of my screens, I could see the image that we were relaying to them. Gonzales was sitting in the pilot’s chair, as usual, and everyone else was seated towards the back.
“We surrender,” Gonzales said, sounding utterly defeated. “We’re out of food, we’re out of supplies, we’re out of power. You get it? You win. Now come board us and take your prisoner. We just ask that our trials be quick.”
“And what’s to prevent me from blasting you to bits the moment you’re in custody?”
“Look, we can blow up the ship now and take your precious, shapeshifting paycheck down with us. Or, you can be a decent human being for once and take us into custody so you can go down in history books as the amazing man who discovered new life. We’ll even back you up with some story about how you found her and we were jealous of your payday or something. You’ll be so much more credible with some good ole bad guys in your story.”
“Fine. Prepare for boarding.”
I cut off our video feed and got up, quickly running back to the airlock. Slamming the button, I let it suck me out into space just like it had done to Mimic an hour earlier.
I floated listlessly for a moment, and it was peaceful in the utter quiet of the void, but then I realized I had a job to do and I engaged the thruster pack Bahn had Ciangi rigged for me, flying behind the largest asteroid that we had left in Mimic’s belt.
I killed my speed once I reached the shelter and was instantly greeted by my four companions.
“Good job,” Ciangi whispered through our comms. “Still don’t know why you insisted on being the one to stay behind and play the video, but not bad.”
“Because,” I answered slowly, peeking out from behind the other side of the rock, “if something were to go awry, you three could still get Mimic to her people. I’m expendable.”
“I don’t really agree with that,” Bahn said. “But I sense that this is not the time to address that. According to my sensors, the ship is approaching.”
“Alright, engage thrusters but make sure to keep your speed natural. We want to guide this rock to where we need it, not obviously scoot it into their sensor range.”
We all shared a nod, then we were moving forward.
My heart was pounding in my ears as we pushed, our thrusters propelling us forward. It was slow, but it was a natural movement, and one we needed for cover to get close enough to Giomatti’s ship. If we tried to fly for it outright, we would be picked off one by one with blaster bolts. Ergo, our rocky disguise.
I watched as Giomatti’s ship approached ours, locking on with a short-range tractor beam and sending out several ships not too different from our own stolen one. They converged on it, then I saw little dots beginning to do their own spacewalk to try and board our vessel.
“Alright, kick it into overdrive now. I’m sure they’re distracted.”
We all punched our thrusters to full speed and rocketed forward. We said nothing as we quickly approached Giomatti’s ship until we were finally close enough to ditch our cover.
“Now!” I ordered.
As one, we all pushed ourselves upward, and for a moment, we were completely unattached to anything, just free-floating through space with only our momentum to propel us.
But then we collided with the side of the ship, and I gripped one of the handholds before pulling myself to a maintenance hatch. With bated breath, I punched a code to the door. If Giomatti was smart, he would have deactivated each and every code I had been given for taking care of the ship.
But, as the door beeped then popped open, I realized that Giomatti wasn’t very smart at all.
“Everyone in,” I ordered. “We’re almost to the end of all this.”
“From your word to God’s mouth,” Gonzales murmured, diving in and catching the ladder into a pressurizing room.
A few minutes later, we were all inside and I closed the hatch, which allowed us to bring the atmosphere back into the room.
“So, everyone ready for their next parts?”
Ciangi nodded emphatically, her curls bouncing around her head now that she was freed from her enviro-suit helmet. “Bahn and I will go set up the countdown, you and Mimic handle the broadcast and Giomatti. Gonzales will arrange the escape pod.”
“You know when you say it like that, it sounds so easy,” the weapons engineer said with a smirk. “But in case I never see any of you again, it’s been great.” She gave a little bow then shimmied down the opening in the floor that lead to what had once been my floor. The coin twins gave Mimic and I a reassuring pat before exiting as well.
“You ready?” I asked.
“Yes. I’m quite anxious to get this over with before it backfires.”
“What, you don’t think my plan will work?”
“No, I have the greatest of faiths in you. I just do not trust our luck.”
“I dunno, we made it to the end of the universe and back without too much trouble. I would say our luck is pretty amazing.”
“Yes, but perhaps we have used up too much of it.” She shucked the last of her enviro-suit to the side. “Come. We have a genius plan to enact.”
I allowed myself a dry laugh before following her out. Together, we found the right maintenance tunnel and crawled in. Speed was of the essence. If my estimate was right, the crew that had been sent to board us
was reaching the entrance hatch of the ship. From there, it would take them about a minute to walk to the bridge, and then five maximum to weld through the thick, fireproof doors that were currently enclosing the room that we were supposed to be in.
If our plan didn’t finish before then, the jig was up.
Which was troubling considering everything hinged on Giomatti assuming we were never going to be a problem again and hadn’t bothered to seal off the same hatch that let me sneak onto the bridge when I had rescued Mimic the first time.
I didn’t try to think about it as we crawled along. He was an arrogant man, and had seen us escape into certain death. There was no way he would have the foresight to take precautions to make sure that we couldn’t pull the same move twice.
We reached the junction in question and sure enough, there was nothing there.
“You were right, he didn’t fix it.”
“Hold on,” I warned. “This could be a trap.”
“It could. But we won’t know until we try.”
“Fair enough.”
And so, we kept crawling forward, going as quietly as possible until we were just on the other side of the hatch. I could hear him talking emphatically about what he was going to do to us, which meant he probably wasn’t alone.
“Let me handle this,” Mimic said, squeezing past me to press herself against the panel. “You might want to scoot back a bit.”
I did, and she began to shift almost immediately. Her form began to melt, expanding down the very narrow maintenance tunnel until there barely was enough room for me.
Then she struck with full force, bursting from the door with a virulence that I couldn’t hope to match. I heard blaster fire, screams, and a shout for the alarms, and then sudden quiet.
“You can come out now. It’s safe.”
Carefully, I crawled out of the tunnel and took inventory of the bridge. There were three men, including Giomatti, all unconscious and looking quite battered.
Mimic and the Journey Home (Space Shifter Chronicles Book 2) Page 5
