by G J Ogden
“Ironic,” Maria quipped.
“The fuel cell backups are intact,” Kurren went on, “and remarkably it looks like some still have a bit of juice in. Probably enough for what we need.” He stepped back and drew his sidearm. “Ready?”
Maria also drew her sidearm, and then nodded. Kurren tapped a square on the panel and the door hissed open. They were both hit with a blast of cool, stale-tasting air. Without speaking, they switched on the flashlight attachments on their weapons. Kurren went in first, Maria behind, and they advanced down the corridor, carrying out a well-rehearsed dance of advance and cover, advance and cover, ensuring that if anything did surprise them, at least one of them would be in a position to fire. About a hundred metres in to the underground facility, they reached another service doorway. Kurren again attached the override jacker and indicated to Maria that he was ready to open the door. Maria raised her weapon and stood behind the door, poised. She nodded to Kurren, without taking her eyes off the door, and Kurren pressed the button. The doors hissed open, as before, and Maria advanced inside, quickly checking the corners, before moving to cover. Kurren entered and swiftly moved to cover on the opposite side to Maria. The manoeuvre was slick and professional, and went exactly according to their training.
They were now in the main circular viewing gallery, which overlooked the central deck area, from which passengers would transfer into the eight launch bays that led off from the concourse like the spokes of a wheel. It was dark, but there was some light filtering through the open emergency vents in the roof, and it was enough to see by, if somewhat dimly. The roof itself was closed, and roots dangled down from it like entrails. What light there was from above created shadows that danced and flickered along the walls and decking. Both of them switched off their flashlights and stood quietly surveying the landing platform.
“This place looks in bad shape,” Maria whispered over to Kurren. “Do you really think we'll find a ship here that can get us back into orbit?”
Kurren walked carefully around the circular viewing gallery, straining his eyes to survey as much of the deck as possible. A port like this, with only eight launch pods, was fairly exclusive, and would typically be used by private contractors and the very wealthy. As such, Kurren had surmised it to be the best place to find a suitable orbit-capable vessel that could have survived these long years. The larger, public spaceports were easy to survey from the base, and intel had suggested these had all been destroyed or very heavily damaged, making this small port their best bet. Kurren's reasoning was that the port authorities would have been unlikely, or simply unable, to requisition a Private UEC shuttle for use in any attempted evacuation, simply because they would not have had security authorisation to access it. As he studied the deck, he saw that six of the eight security doors leading to the launch pods were open, so he knew there was a chance.
Maria half watched Kurren and half watched the shadows flickering around the walls, each one making her gut churn with the fear that it could be one of those things. Wind howled through gaps in the roof and water dripped from the dangling root ends, like blood oozing from an open wound. The place gave Maria the chills, and she was not one to be squeamish. It was why she had been chosen, alongside Kurren, whose bluster was equalled only by his ability to deal calmly with a crisis.
“Well, this is a cheery place,” said Kurren, sarcastically, after a couple of minutes had passed, and it became clear they were safe, at least for the moment.
“It reminds me of your quarters,” Maria shot back instantly with a crooked smile.
Kurren laughed and shook his head gently. “If only your flying was as sharp as your tongue.” Then he stopped and straightened up, military training kicking back in. “There,” he said, pointing towards the far corner of the deck. “Outside door seven, there’s a UEC emblem on that flight case.”
Maria squinted, looking over to where Kurren had indicated. “Are you sure? I can’t see it.”
“Great, a short-sighted pilot, no wonder we crashed.”
“Landed!”
“Whatever...” teased Kurren, smiling.
Maria scowled and pushed past him, making sure to stand on his foot, and headed towards the emergency stairwell that lead down to the deck.
“Ow! Hey, where are you going?” said Kurren.
“To get a closer look,” Maria replied.
“Hold up, Sal,” warned Kurren, sternly. “Take it slow; there could be more of those things in here.” He joined Maria and raised his weapon, aiming towards the foot of the stairwell that lead down to the main deck. They both went down together, side-by-side.
“To be honest,” said Maria, still smarting from Kurren’s earlier comments, “after several days of your stimulating conversation, one of the mindless savages might make for better company.”
Kurren snorted. “Good luck with that, even these things couldn't handle your levels of crazy.”
Maria laughed and looked back at Kurren warmly. It was at that moment, as Maria faced away from the corridor at the bottom of the stairs, that it came through an open doorway, arm raised, a jagged splinter of metal in its hand.
“Down!” Kurren shouted, and Maria Salus, without hesitation, dropped to the floor, reacting instantly to the command. She was showered with debris and dust as the metal shard swung over her, cutting ugly chunks out of the wall next to where her head had been only seconds ago. Two shots rang out and the figure was hit in the chest and neck. It careered backwards, dropping the weapon onto the hard floor with a clinical, metallic chime, even more piercing than the sound of the gunshots.
Maria recovered and jumped to her feet, weapon at her side. She backed up next to Kurren, and between them they swept the angles, and checked the doorway. Inside, the room was now empty save for some old containers. Neither spoke. They stood, perfectly still, Maria desperately trying to calm her breathing. Then a sound, scuffing on the ground, perhaps something being moved, perhaps something shuffling closer.
“Footsteps?” Maria whispered to Kurren. Her heart was racing, and adrenalin was making her legs shake.
Kurren listened. The sound came again, clearer, closer, and more frequent. “Footsteps,” he confirmed.
Maria looked at him, panic starting to swell inside her. But Kurren was calm and unshaken. His reputation for coolness under pressure was well-earned, and seeing his strength helped Maria to regain her own.
“We’re exposed out here,” said Kurren, looking around. “We need to get to hangar pod seven, and seal the door behind us. The pods are self-contained, nothing could get in.”
Maria nodded, the plan seemed sound. Her heart was pounding, and her hands shaking despite the effort of all of her will to stop them. “But, what if they are already in there?” said Maria, trying to work out all the angles.
“One way or another, we have to fight,” said Kurren, stoically. “This is our best shot, Sal.” The sounds were getting louder, and more distinct. Kurren looked around, and saw a corridor off to the right. “There!” he said. “That passage will lead onto the deck near to seven.” He ran past Maria, slapping her on the shoulder as he passed. “Go!” he shouted.
The slap shook Maria into action, and she took a deep breath and ran after him. The footsteps were getting close now. Lots of footsteps; fast, disorganised, frantic. Kurren reached the end of the passage first and was confronted by a door. Without pause, he shot out the lock and then kicked it open. Seamlessly, he moved through, checking the area beyond. He could see door seven now, tantalisingly close. Maria caught up with him, and swung around to cover their rear. Kurren checked ahead.
“Clear! Let's move, move, move!” he shouted.
Maria went first this time, running as fast as she could. She could hear the heavy clump of Kurren’s boots just behind her as they approached hangar door seven. “Cover me!” shouted Kurren, as they reached the door. He flipped open the access panel, and got to work.
Maria moved up behind some crates, stacked a few metres in front of th
e door, and dropped to one knee, weapon raised. She flicked the barrel of the weapon from corner to corner, doorway to doorway, watching, waiting. And then she saw them. Fifteen, twenty, maybe more. She couldn’t be sure, as she couldn’t quite make them out clearly, but they looked different to the thing they had encountered in the house a couple of days earlier. More human, but still not human. Their clothes were tattered and filthy, and some were clearly badly maimed from the way they moved, yet despite their handicaps they came forward at a horrifying pace.
Maria aimed and fired repeatedly, focusing on the ones closest to her, and those moving the fastest. Several dropped to the floor, but there were simply too many. “Hurry!” she shouted.
Behind her, she heard the door start to wind open. When it was wide enough for them to get through, Kurren unplugged his security jacker, slipped underneath and quickly attached it to the panel on the reverse side.
“Maria, get in here!” he shouted through the opening, but Maria did not hear it over the crack of gunfire. She fired again and again, watching body after body fall, but still they came. No more than ten metres now. Kurren ducked down under the door opening. “Maria, get in here now!” came the shout again, at the top of his lungs.
This time Maria heard it, but still she squeezed the trigger. But now, instead of the crack of a round being fired, she heard a click. Empty. Pushing off hard against the crates she was using for cover to gain some initial momentum, Maria turned and ran for the door, ducking underneath at a frantic pace that was fuelled by both adrenalin and fear, but several meters inside the hangar she lost her balance and collided heavily with something solid and metallic.
As soon as Kurren saw Maria clear the threshold, he hit the button and the door began to close. It moved painfully slowly. “Come on!” Kurren shouted.
He dropped to a prone position and shot rapidly at the horde of advancing creatures, hitting several in the legs, but it was not enough. The door reverberated with the sound of bodies slamming into it at full running speed. Kurren could hear bone crunching, such was the ferocity. He scrambled away, watching as hands appeared under the lip, trying to pull the door open, but it would have taken a hundred of them to even slow it down. Eventually the door closed, thudding powerfully into the locks, and Kurren lay back, exhausted, heart racing and breathless.
Maria tried to stand, but dizziness overcame her. There was a searing pain in her head and she clasped a hand over it, trying to squeeze away the agony. Her eyes began to darken. She heard banging, the sound of flesh hitting metal, a pounding almost as savage as the pain in her head. She fell, and the noises became more distant. Her vision blurred, then came darkness, then nothing at all.
chapter 10
Maria Salus awoke with a start. Her vision was blurry and her head pounded. Groggy and disorientated, it took her several more seconds to realise she was lying down, but when she tried to sit upright, pain shot through her right arm and she collapsed on to her back again.
“Easy, Sal,” came a familiar, reassuring voice. “You hit your head pretty hard and your upper arm was cut up. Nothing serious, but it's going to hurt like hell until I can get some meds into you.” As he said this, he pressed an injector into Maria's neck and squeezed the trigger.
“Just returning the favour, you know?” said Kurren, before casually discarding the injector. It rattled across the metal floor and came to rest against the wall.
“Should you be making so much noise?” asked Maria weakly, remembering the reason why they were in this predicament.
“I haven’t heard anything for a few hours.”
“So I take it that we're still alive then?”
Kurren stood up and patted the dust off his legs. “Just about, that was a seriously close one though,” he said, honestly.
Maria's vision had cleared enough that she could see the room and Kurren fairly clearly now. “Wait, you said you hadn’t heard anything for a few hours,” she said. “How long was I out?”
“You've been out cold for a good twelve hours, I'd say,” said Kurren, “though some of that was probably due to the initial hit of meds I gave you. Those crazy bastards tried for two hours solid to get in here, bashing at the door with fists, rocks, bars and hell knows what else. Then it sounded as though they just started fighting amongst themselves, and a short while later it went quiet.” He removed a pistol from the waistband of his trousers and held it up to Maria with the grip facing towards her. “Here, you’ll be needing this again.”
Maria looked at the weapon and recognised it as her sidearm. Kurren had flipped the safety back on, even though the clip and chamber were empty. Despite his outward bravado, Kurren was always cautious and professional. She took the weapon and placed it back in her holster. “Hopefully not,” she said with sincerity.
Maria looked around the room. In the centre of the hangar, which was a circle around fifteen metres in diameter, was a small transport vessel with UEC markings. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked.
Kurren traced her gaze to the ship and said, “Yep, you were clever enough to discover that earlier on. With your head!”
Maria laughed. “Well, I always was the brains of this operation.”
“You almost left your brains all over it,” Kurren replied candidly. “Luckily, you have a hard head to match your stubborn nature.”
Maria rose to her feet, steadying herself against the wall with her good, left arm. “Does it work?” she asked. “I assume you've taken a look at it?”
Kurren walked over to the side hatch, flipped a panel and hit a button. The side hatch door hissed and slid open, the lower section extending forward to form a ramp into the compartment. “It's a bit dusty inside,” he said, wafting the dust away from his face, “but as far as I can tell, it's in working order.”
“Finally, some luck!” said Maria, feeling more confident.
“And it’s fuelled too,” Kurren added. “It looks like some UEC execs were down here when it happened. Luckily, these UEC private transports were pretty well made, so the reactor shielding has prevented any radiation leakage and kept the ore inert and stable.”
Maria wandered over and leaned on the ship, peering inside. “Lucky for us those poor UEC suits didn't make it here in time,” she said.
Kurren looked over at her and then reached into his pocket and held out a folded plastic wallet. “What's this?” said Maria, taking the wallet and opening it. Inside was an ID card and transport pass.
Kurren looked down at his feet. “That's one of your suits,” he said, in a low voice. “Shaun David Fields. Hotshot UEC lawyer, thirty-two years old. Trade negotiator.”
“You knew of him?” Maria said, reading the details.
“Nope, never heard of him,” Kurren answered. “Probably an arsehole, looking at the self-satisfied smirk in his ID photo. It just makes you think, you know?”
Maria handed the wallet back to Kurren. He took it, but Maria held on for a short while, causing Kurren to look up into her eyes. “It's just another suit, Chris,” she said coldly. “Just one of billions, dead long before you were even born. Don't get sentimental on me now, I need you. You're supposed to be the grounded one, remember?”
Maria let go of the wallet and Kurren took it. He looked at it briefly and then tossed it to the floor, where it landed, next to the discarded injector. It was open on the photo of Shaun David Fields, his smug eyes staring timelessly into the room. Kurren reflected on the fact that this man's loss – his death – was their gain. Considering the epic scale of the event and the unimaginable numbers involved, it was easy to forget about individual lives. Maria was right, this 'suit', as she had called him, was just one among billions who had died, or worse, become like the creatures they had faced earlier. When the numbers get so big that you can't even picture in your mind the scale of the loss, it becomes impossible to relate to. One million here... ten million there... fifty million in this city alone. It was easy to distance oneself from the reality of what had happened, easy to disconnec
t. But this one person; this was easy to understand, easy to feel. How strangely the human mind worked, Kurren thought. If people could feel the loss of millions as keenly as the loss of one, maybe this all wouldn't have happened in the first place.
“Yes, Boss,” he said softly to Maria.
The silence was broken by a noise from outside, perhaps a door being opened. Soft footsteps, different to before; more careful, more considered. Kurren and Maria looked each other in the eyes, and there was instant understanding between then. Both drew their weapons and reloaded, as quietly as possible. Kurren moved silently to the far side of the hangar, and stood beside the door. Maria moved cautiously into the shuttle, resting on the hatchway, using it to steady her aim, which was still impaired given her drugged-up condition and bruised arm. Just holding the weapon upright was difficult and painful, but she bore it with gritty determination.
Muffled voices were heard outside, and more footsteps, then it was silent for a time. Shortly afterwards came the sound of a panel flipping upwards outside.
Shit! thought Maria. They are going to open the door! Maria considered that whoever was on the other side must be in a much earlier stage of the disease. More self-aware. She disabled the safety on her weapon and aimed at the hangar door, close to where she had heard the sound. Through the cockpit glass, she could see Kurren. He had shifted position, probably with the same idea. Whatever came through that door would be dead in seconds.
The door mechanism engaged and the motor whirred, lifting the dense slab of metal upwards. Maria tensed, her finger on the trigger, squeezing softly so that just a fraction more pressure would fire the round. The door opened fully and the mechanism locked, still nothing appeared. Maria exhaled, fought back the pain, breathed in and held her breath to steady her aim. A shadow of someone standing to the side of the door spread into the room. It must be daylight outside. It was a huge tactical error, because now both Maria and Kurren knew exactly where they were. Maria aimed fractionally to the left of the door. Her sidearm was powerful enough to breach the wall and, if her aim was accurate, hit whatever was standing outside. She was about to fire, but then a voice caused her to pause.
