In a bright white flash, the Minian disappeared.
Chapter 37
Bristol didn’t like having his sleep disrupted. He tried covering his head with his pillow, but the persistent ding ding ding tones continued. He sat up and glared at the cabin hatch.
“Who the hell is it?”
The AI said, “You have a visitor, Seaman Bristol. Jack is waiting for you.”
“What the hell does he want? Tell him to get lost.”
The persistent dinging tone ceased and the AI became quiet. Bristol fell back and closed his eyes.
“Jack would like me to deliver you a message, Bristol.”
“Uhhg! I … am … trying … to … sleep!”
“He says it has to do with your brother.”
Bristol sat up in bed and looked over to the hatch. “Open it.”
The AI did as asked and the closed hatch disappeared. Jack, the Zoo’s caretaker, dressed in familiar green coveralls, peered inside.
“Come in!” Bristol ordered.
Tentatively, Jack took two steps in and looked about the small, dark crew cabin. As his eyes adjusted in the dimness, he found Bristol lying in bed. “It’s about your brother.”
“Yeah, I heard. AI … secure the hatch.”
The hatch reappeared, again solid, and the cabin lights came on.
“What about my brother?”
“I was doing my rounds this morning. Same rounds I do every morning—”
“Old man … just get to the point. I don’t give a rat’s ass about your rounds.”
“Your brother … Stalls … was standing … looking in from the portal window from HAB 12.”
“What did he say?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? Were you there or not?”
“I can’t hear what’s going on within any of the habitats … you do know they’re not actually here, on The Lilly, don’t you? It’s a portal, not a direct window.”
“Of course I know that! Just tell me what he was doing.”
“He was banging on the portal window, trying to get someone’s attention. He was mouthing your name, Bristol, over and over again. That’s why I’m here.”
Bristol nodded and began chewing on the inside of his lip. He wondered what his brother wanted. Probably to get out of there. Well, he couldn’t blame him for that. “Okay, I’ll be down in a minute.”
* * *
Bristol had Ricket’s long string of Caldurian alphanumeric digits on his virtual notepad. Bristol wasn’t stupid. He knew his brother and how conniving he could be. Escape would not be an option. He gestured for him to get back … far back away from the portal window. He waited while Stalls walked twenty paces back. Stalls did as he was told, clearly annoyed. Bristol indicated for him to get even farther back. He moved over to the HAB 12 portal access panel and started entering the code. It irritated him that Ricket could recite the code from memory. He entered in the final ten digits. His brother, still back within the alien environment, looked nervously over his shoulder every so often.
Beep beep beep. The portal opened.
Bristol walked to the now open portal.
“Hey, little brother, it’s good to see another friendly face,” Stalls yelled.
“I’m surprised you’re still alive … thought you’d be a Serapin’s lunch or dinner by now,” Bristol said, happy to see Stalls still among the living. His brother looked a mess—his jump suit was grimy, spotted with several rust-colored splotches. Bristol surmised the stains were dried blood. He also looked tired … and something else. Happy. “What do you want? You know I can’t let you out of there. The captain would throw me out an airlock, or worse, put me in there with you.”
“No, little brother, I don’t want out of here,” Stalls said, with his typical cocky smile. “I’m finding this place quite interesting. I’ve discovered a few … surprising aspects … things I can work with. But I do need a few things from you.”
“Um … I don’t know. Like I said, the captain—”
“Just a few things. I am your brother, Bristol. Are you going to deny your own flesh and blood a few necessities … things that can keep him alive? Come on … you know what this place is like.”
“What is it you want?”
“I need a way to recharge my weapon power packs, for one. Some kind of recharger unit. I also need one of those larger weapons you have on board … I think you call them multi-guns?”
“Is that it?” Bristol asked.
“More jump suits. I found water, but I need a few changes of clothes, for between washings. And one more thing … I’d like a way to communicate with you. It gets lonely in here.”
Bristol was not used to seeing this more vulnerable side to his brother. He thought about his last request. He knew NanoCom worked within habitats to a certain extent, but Stalls didn’t have any internal nano-devices. Bristol needed to come up with something he could wear—something rugged that wouldn’t need recharging. “Give me a few hours. I’ll see what I can come up with.”
“I knew I could count on you, little brother. I’ll be in your debt.”
“Uh huh … okay, whatever.”
At that moment, the portal window timed out and closed between the two brothers.
“You can’t give him that stuff. You know that, right?”
Bristol turned around to see Jack standing nearby, sweeping the corridor, a broom handle gripped in both hands. Bristol shrugged, as if he didn’t care one way or another. He’d just have to return when the old fart was asleep, or shoveling elephant shit in HAB 4.
Bristol returned to his quarters and sat down at his small desk, which looked like a narrow countertop. Over the last few months, he’d transformed the small desk into a fairly adequate work area. He scanned the row upon row of small, stacked component containers containing a diverse range of technologies: Craing, human, Caldurian and numerous others. He began opening little drawers and pulling out the components he’d need to build suitable communication gear for his brother. He checked the time and saw he had about an hour before his shift started on the bridge. Everyone now did doubles: battle station time. Fine … he could sleep when he was dead.
* * *
Bristol had everything ready to go. He’d run out of time and had to give up the idea of building a communication device from scratch. He checked the time again and saw he had ten minutes before he was expected on the bridge. He had to move fast. He looked at the long duffle bag lying on his bed. He was taking a risk here. Going against the direct orders of the captain. He hadn’t a doubt Captain Reynolds would throw his ass into HAB 12 to join his brother if what he was about to do was discovered. That would only happen if Jack caught him.
Bristol pinched the two recess sensors on the SuitPac to initialize his battle suit. As the helmet enveloped his head and the HUD came alive, Bristol went to work, isolating the coordinates of the Zoo. Jack’s life icon was not there. Now or never … he snatched the duffle off the bed and phase-shifted back to the Zoo.
He stood within the Zoo’s main corridor; to his left was the first habitat, where several bored-looking saber-toothed tigers gazed back at him. Across the way was the aqua-blue marine habitat where the Drapple sometimes made an appearance. Bristol continued toward HAB 12. One more check to see if there were any nearby life icons. All was clear. He saw it was now dusk within HAB 12, and his brother had erected his RCM about one hundred feet from the portal window. A soft amber light emitted through the tent-like fabric.
Bristol brought out his virtual notepad and began entering the code on the access panel. Three quarters of the way through the process he saw movement on his HUD. A new life icon appeared, moving in his direction; Jack entered the Zoo. Shit! Bristol continued entering the last few digits. Beep beep beep.
“What are you doing there?” came Jack’s craggy voice from the other end of the Zoo corridor.
Bristol ignored him and hastened to the portal window. His brother, barefoot, wa
s standing off in the distance.
“I said stop!”
Bristol turned to face the angered, red-faced caretaker. Jack’s eyes widened when he saw Bristol’s face behind the visor.
“I warned you. There’s no way you’re going to give that pirate any of the things he wanted.”
Bristol pulled the strap of the duffle bag from around his shoulder and hefted the bag onto the ground within HAB 12. Stalls slowly started to walk toward the portal. Bristol held up a hand for his brother to stay back. Stalls stopped, but looked concerned. Bristol indecisively looked at his brother and then Jack. Then, having estimated the portal’s timeout period was about to elapse, Bristol turned, grabbed Jack by the shoulders and physically manhandled him ten steps into HAB 12, throwing the old caretaker to the ground. Bristol ran back into the Zoo, just as Jack got back to his feet. “He’s all yours,” Bristol yelled across to his brother.
Stalls rushed forward, grabbed on to the fabric at the nape of the older man’s coveralls, and held him in place. Bristol deactivated his battle suit and waited for it to withdraw back into the small SuitPac device on the belt of his spacer’s jumpsuit.
Bristol took another look up and down the corridor to ensure no one else was around. He knew the AI was well aware of his actions … he’d have to worry about that later. He unclipped the SuitPac from his belt and tossed the device to his brother. “Between this battle suit and what’s inside that duffle, you’re good to go.”
“Thanks, Bristol … I mean that. What do you want me to do with him?”
Bristol avoided making eye contact with Jack.
“No! You can’t leave me here. Not here … not HAB 12.”
“Feed him to the Serapins.”
Bristol took a step back, turned, and hurried away toward the bridge. Jack’s screams continued to echo within the confines of the Zoo for several more seconds—then suddenly ceased. Bristol surmised the portal window had reinitialized.
Chapter 38
Another dozen or two Craing warships moved into their small corner of space. The Lilly’s available plasma and rail cannons were firing non-stop. No sooner were the first eight heavy cruisers destroyed or disabled than another ten or twenty ships arrived on the scene. It became clear—it was all part of the Drac-Vin’s strategy to keep The Lilly fully engaged. The very last thing Jason wanted was for his actions to become predictable to the Craing. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the case. By now, the enemy could calculate ahead; know when The Lilly needed to recharge its phase-shift systems. It was no accident the Drac-Vin ships were pushing back hard at the present moment, just when The Lilly had finalized its last phase-shift of four.
“Shields are down to forty percent, Captain,” Gunny said.
Jason acknowledged Orion with a curt nod, while keeping his attention focused ahead on the wrap-around display. Forty was the shields’ lowest percent level yet—the enemy, most definitely, had smartened up.
“Incoming. Fighter drones … three hundred. Our shields are showing several hot spots, too. If repeated firings continue at us, we’ll start losing our nanites’ protective coating.”
“How long before we can phase-shift out of here, Helm?”
“Regeneration times are getting longer and longer, sir. At least five more minutes,” McBride replied.
“Gunny, get all available fighters into space. Let Lieutenant Grimes know we need a buffer between incoming fire, and the vulnerable areas showing on our hull.”
“Shields down to thirty-five percent and dropping, Captain.”
It had been a long time since Jason held doubts of The Lilly’s capacity to hold its own in a battle. But right now, things were not looking good. Long-range logistics showed a near endless parade of Craing warships heading their way. What he needed to do was get The Lilly the hell away from this area of space, but without the capacity to phase-shift they were stranded here.
“Incoming hail, Captain,” Seaman Gordon said. “It’s from a newly arrived Drac-Vin vessel … oh … it’s the Assailant, Captain.”
“Where’d they come from?” Orion asked, her face showing concern.
“Put it on the wrap-around,” Jason said.
Jason would know that face anywhere. The cold, beady eyes, the small tuft of black hair at the top of his Craing head, and that little smirking mouth. “Ot-Mul. Nice of you to join the party.”
“Thank you, Captain Reynolds. It is so nice to see you again, too. We have much catching up to do. Unfortunately, I am somewhat busy right now … so many battles … so little time.”
“Don’t let me keep you, Ot-Mul. Maybe later, then—”
“Before I go, I’d like to share something with you. Think of it as a special gift from me to you.”
With that, the camera feed within the Assailant’s bridge area changed to a different site. The new location seemed dark and … eerily familiar. Jason turned toward Gunny. “Can you get a fix on the Assailant?”
“No, sir … it’s like she’s close, but there again … not really there. I’m working on it.”
There was movement on the display. Jason saw metal bars, a familiar-looking metal railing, and the decking of a narrow catwalk. This was a Craing cruiser’s prison … where hundreds of small holding cells were stacked above the ship’s Grand Sacellum. They were watching the current feed from, Jason guessed, a weapon-mounted camera. Three Craing soldiers were walking in front of the moving camera. What Jason saw up ahead, in the dim light of the holding cells, captivated his attention. Nan was in one, several holding cells away … and Dira, too, in another, farther holding cell. Their faces looked tight and tense as the Craing soldiers approached them.
“Gunny, get a team dispatched to those coordinates. Billy, Rizzo, Traveler, and whoever else we can spare. I want them in a shuttle and en route in—”
“All shuttles are currently in use. We’ve been using them to phase-shift into enemy ships.”
“Find one! Do it now!”
“Aye, sir,” Gunny said, turning her attention back to her board.
Jason continued to watch the feed. The Craing soldiers were now standing in front of Nan’s holding cell. He now realized a second person was in her cell, too. Mollie! Jason’s heart was ready to pound out of his chest. Was he about to see a systematic execution of everyone he loved? Was this kind of vengeance Ot-Mul’s strategy all along? To rip Jason’s personal world apart before his Drac-Vin fleets decimated what remained of the Alliance?
Where was Boomer? Jason watched the feed, wishing he could manipulate the camera … see into the other adjoining cells. Damn! He never felt so helpless. Then he remembered, of course … Boomer had escaped; she was hiding elsewhere on that ship. Would she try to rescue them … should he even suggest such a thing? She wasn’t even ten yet … but then again, she was a little girl who could kick the ass of most full-grown men.
A loud metal clang brought Jason’s attention back to the here and now. Un-oiled hinges screamed as a cell door swung open. The Lilly’s bridge became deadly quiet. Everyone knew what was about to happen.
“Gordon, get Boomer … hail her NanoCom … wait … she’s hailing me.”
Jason heard her childlike voice. “Dad?”
“Where are you, sweetie?”
“Um … I think I’m … let me see—”
“Can you phase-shift to the upper decks, into the holding cell area?”
“I just tried to do that. I ended up in the Grand Sacellum.”
“That’s good! You’re very close … you need to get up to the …” Jason stared at the feed. Something was happening. He didn’t quite understand. The soldier with the gun-mounted camera let the muzzle of his weapon drop—all Jason could see were legs—a scuffle was taking place. Now there was angry shouting. All three—Nan, Mollie and Dira—were screaming, “Stop! God … Stop … Oh no … please don’t—”
Jason’s eyes blurred as tears welled in his eyes. Suddenly, the Craing soldier’s weapon pointed higher up again. Jason’s breath caught in hi
s chest as that same weapon fired—bright flashes, once, twice, three times.
King Caparri’s face looked distorted from agonizing pain. His upper torso showed three charred, smoldering plasma strikes. His eyes, glazing over, fluttered, and shut. His body crumpled and fell out of view. Dira’s screams continued—the camera found the now-prone body of the dead king, lying on the grimy deck. Dira’s screams had turned into desperate sobbing.
The soldier’s attached camera pointed toward Dira’s cell. She sat huddled on the deck, her face in her hands. Another sound. One of pain. Jason recognized Nan’s voice.
“Oh God … Oh my God.”
The camera jerked around and found Nan. She looked scared—her face white—eyes wide and full of fear. “He’s coming!”
Both Mollie and Dira began talking to her, asking her what was wrong. Dira was back on her feet and reaching through the bars. “Nan … you need to sit. Get down on the deck and listen to me.”
Nan screamed, “I’m having the baby … I’m having the baby—”
The video feed disappeared. On the overhead display was only Ot-Mul’s contemptuous face.
“Put it back! I need to see it! You fuck … put it back!” Jason screamed toward the overhead display. “I am going to kill you. Know that … I’m going to rip your ugly Craing head from your neck and—”
“Now now, Captain Reynolds. Please. Let’s maintain some level of professionalism.” Ot-Mul took a sip of something from a cup, licked his lips, and set the cup back down, out of view. “I must say … that was about the most exciting bit of … what do you humans call it? TV? I, for one, was riveted. Weren’t you?”
“I’m going to kill you.” Jason was having a hard time staying on his feet. He was well aware he was about to come completely unglued.
“I know you want to get back to the show. Truth is, I do, too.” Ot-Mul smiled with excitement. “Who will be next? Huh … perhaps your pretty ex-wife and her little infant cub. They can join the recently departed King Caparri … or maybe it will be Dira? A beautiful specimen … I must say, I’ve had certain … thoughts … about her myself. Or should it be your child, Mollie? That is her name, yes? Well, stay tuned … we’ll talk again in a few minutes.”
Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle Page 20
