Derelict: Tomb (Derelict Saga Book 2)

by Paul E. Cooley

  “Aye, sir. I did.” Taulbee grinned. “It was beautiful.”

  “Well,” Dunn said, “there’s more where that came from.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Being off course was not optimal. Actually, Dickerson thought it was an unmitigated disaster. He kept cursing himself for not telling the corporal to take the fork at the corridor. If they had, they might have found another hatch to close and followed the fastest course to reach the auxiliary bridge. Then again, they’d managed to escape the pinecone hordes.

  Kalimura led them down the corridor to a four-way junction. Her suit lights broke through the gloom, constantly swinging from side to side to check the walls and ceiling for possible threats. Dickerson crouch-walked behind Carb and Elliott, but his eyes constantly checked his rear cam feed. If they were lucky, very lucky, he thought they could make it to the next slip-point without running into more of the things.

  “Shit,” Kalimura said over the comms. “Hold up.”

  Dickerson stopped and stood, rifle pointed down the hallway. Something moved in the shadows several meters ahead of her. “Corporal?”

  “Dickerson? Do you see that?” Kalimura asked.

  He unfocused his eyes slightly and looked at everything and nothing. The camera feed blurred just a bit, but the shadows started to take shape. Something triangular nearly large enough to block the corridor floated in the hallway.

  “I see it,” he said. “Did it move?”

  “No,” Kalimura said. “But I can barely see it.”

  Dickerson stood still, calmed his breathing, and tried to slow his hammering heart. The pinecones were bad, dangerous with their unbelievably sharp claw, but they weren’t this large. Just what the hell would this thing do?

  The shadow shifted on the left side. He cocked his head and unconsciously leaned forward. No. It wasn’t triangular. There were too many edges, too many-- The shadow spread itself wide. Those are arms, he thought. Five. Seven. It reminded him of something, something he’d seen as a child, once again in the aquarium. It--

  The shadow floated a little closer. Kalimura’s suit lights finally reflected off something. Barely. They were arms. At least nine of them, bristles waving and curling from their surface. The shadow’s center gleamed with something silvery.

  “Oh, fuck,” Dickerson said, the last word drawing off into silence.

  When Kalimura spoke, her voice was quiet and shuddering. “Squad? Get ready. We’re going left. Jet if you have to. Dickerson? Cover Carb and Elliott. I’ll make sure this thing doesn’t follow.” She paused for half a beat. “Ready?” Dickerson and Carb both said affirmative at the same time. He heard Kalimura inhale deeply before yelling, “Go!”

  Carb had already demagnetized her boots. She jetted forward past Kalimura and then hit her attitude thrusters. Both she and Elliott collided with the wall, but quickly flew out of sight. “Clear!” Carb yelled.

  Dickerson detached himself from the floor and flew forward. He heard Kalimura hiss into the microphone and he stared at the camera feed. The shadow was no longer a shadow. Kalimura’s lights illuminated an open mouth ringed with curled, gray teeth. Silvery liquid gleamed and droplets of the substance floated near its cavernous maw. The thing moved closer.

  A flash of bright light pummeled the darkness as Kalimura fired. The flechette round struck the creature center mass, bright arcs of electricity dancing on its skin. The thing’s arms pulled in to cover its mouth. The arcs became sparks and then disappeared completely, leaving the creature floating in its own alien version of the fetal position.

  “Move!” she yelled.

  Dickerson hit his suit thrusters. He flew forward and reached Kalimura just as she fired another round. Nearly colliding with her, he activated his attitude thrusters to nudge himself sideways. He reached out a free hand, mag-locking himself to Kalimura’s shoulder and opened the throttle. He and the corporal bounced off the wall harder than Carb had. He heard Kalimura yelp and her free hand immediately clutched at her side.

  Through his rear cam feed, he saw movement. It was only a quick glance, but he knew he saw silver. That was enough to make him swing Kalimura and let go. The force of him turning under a thruster burn and simultaneously releasing the corporal resulted in her flying down the hallway and spinning him to face the threat. Without thinking, he nudged the thrusters to stop the spin.

  The creature was clumsily moving down the hallway and no longer floating. Its massive appendages alternately clutched and then pulled. The open mouth’s teeth snapped at empty air. Dickerson hit the thrusters again and began floating backward at 2 m/s. He aimed the rifle and fired three times.

  The first flechette caught the creature’s closed mouth, lighting the hall with electric sparks. The second detonated on its right side with the same result. The third went wild and exploded somewhere down the hallway. The thing shook itself and launched toward him, its mouth looking like a black hole.

  Dickerson screamed and panic fired. Another round flew from the barrel, its rocket engaged, and entered the creature’s mouth in mid-snap. The creature seemed to bend down before a gout of silver liquid geysered from its back, pushing the thing toward him instead of away.

  The creature’s appendages jerked spasmodically, flailing at the walls. One shot forward and smacked into his chest sending Dickerson spinning and tumbling backward. His camera feeds went to static and then came back on, but all he could see was a nausea-inducing spin of lights and surfaces.

  “Dickerson!” Kalimura yelled. “Hang on!”

  His shoulder crunched into a corridor wall and his tumble speed lessened. He had time enough to be thankful for the small favor before a spike of pain rattled his body. Electric tingles flowed up and down his arm leaving his left side numb.

  Something struck his other shoulder and he yelled. He felt it clamp down and pull. Shouting and gibbering, he pinwheeled his arms, struggling for purchase.

  “Fucking quit it!” Kalimura yelled.

  At first, he didn’t understand why she was yelling. Then his cams steadied enough for him to see her behind him, one of her hands dragging him backward through the hallway. The forward cam showed the creature ahead, its arms twitching, its mouth opening and closing in an erratic, slowing rhythm. Before his suit lights lost sight of the creature, it had stopped moving in the shadows.

  “I got you, Dickerson,” Kalimura said. She was breathing hard, but he was practically hyperventilating. “Calm down. You’re okay.” He felt them come to an abrupt halt, his shoulder hitting him with one more spike of pain before dwindling into an annoying ache.

  “Boss?” Carb said.

  “I’ve got him,” Kalimura said.

  “Dickerson? You okay?” Carb asked.

  He tried to speak, but clenched his eyes shut instead. He was on the verge of vomiting from the spin-induced vertigo and the massive adrenaline dump. He flexed his left hand and another bolt of pain shot through his arm. He moaned before speaking through gritted teeth. “I’m great, Carb.”

  When the nausea passed, he opened his eyes. His cams were steady. The HUD flickered twice and stabilized. Kalimura had mag-locked him to the wall, her helmet pointed directly at him. “What’s your status?”

  Dickerson grinned in a twist of levity and pain. “My status, Corporal, is I’m alive. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, idiot,” she said. “I said cover me, not drag me into the corridor.”

  He tried to shrug, but his left shoulder screamed at the effort. “Never said I was good at following orders,” he said. “Besides, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  She gave him a curt nod. “It was a good idea. That thing would have attacked me.”

  “Boss?” Carb said.

  “Yeah?”

  When Carb spoke again, her voice held an edge of stress. “I think we have a problem.” Kalimura turned from Dickerson and stared down the hall.

  Dickerson groaned and detached from the wall, his body facing the corridor where he’d last seen
the creature. He could still see its floating, lifeless shadow, hints of silver strings sticking to the walls. He paused for a moment, trying to replay in his mind what he’d seen. The creature had reminded him of something, but his addled brain couldn’t put it together.

  “Um, Dickerson?” Kalimura said.

  He woozily turned and faced the corridor. Carb and Kalimura stood side by side, their flechette rifles pointed down the hall. Elliott clung to Carb’s back like a malformed growth. “Coming, Corporal.”

  Dickerson mag-walked to join them, but slowed his pace after a few steps. More than a head taller than both of them, it was easy to see what had stopped their progress.

  In the combined illumination of Kalimura’s and Carb’s helmet lights, he saw a thick, moving shadow. “Shit,” Dickerson said. “That ain’t good.”

  “No,” Kalimura agreed. “It’s not.”

  Dickerson brought up the schematics. Whatever was down there was blocking their path. Whatever is down there. You know what it is, asshole, he said to himself. “Corporal? We can backtrack and go back down the hall we were trying to in the first place.”

  “Bullshit,” Carb said. “I saw what that thing spewed all over the place. I’m not going anywhere near that silver shit.”

  Kalimura clucked her tongue. “Good point, Carb.”

  The shadow moved again, although he couldn’t tell if it was retreating or heading toward them. He knew it was larger than a pinecone, which meant it had to be another creature like the one he’d just killed. At least he hoped it was dead. “Sure wish we’d brought some food for it,” Dickerson said.

  “Pinecones?” Kalimura asked.

  He nodded, although she couldn’t see it. “Yeah. Pinecones.” He laughed. “Just think if we hadn’t closed that hatch. It would be mealtime for the fucker.”

  “Next time we run into a few, maybe we should catch them for just such an occasion,” Kalimura said.

  “Yeah,” Carb said, “because we’re not carrying enough luggage.”

  The shadow twitched. Dickerson saw one of its arms move forward and then slap the wall. “I think we have to go back.”

  “No,” Kalimura said. “Carb’s right. Get any of that stuff on you and it’ll dissolve your suit.”

  “Okay,” Dickerson said. He looked again at the schematics. “There’s a service hatch a few meters behind us,” he said. “I think we can get into it.”

  “Where does it lead?” Carb asked.

  The shadow had started to move forward. Slowly.

  “Um, does it fucking matter?” Dickerson said.

  He turned as quickly as he could and mag-walked down the corridor. His suit lights illuminated silver ropes of liquid floating in the air. He shined his helmet lights to the ceiling and saw the hatch. “Corporal? It’s right here.”

  “Get it open,” Kalimura said. “Carb. Get back there with him.”

  “Aye, Boss.”

  Dickerson demagnetized his boots and pushed hard with his legs. He rose upward a bit faster than he’d wanted and had to outstretch a hand before his helmet collided with the ceiling. His left shoulder screamed in agony from the impact. He’d have to remember to use his right arm from now on.

  He shined his helmet lights on the recessed square in the ceiling. Dickerson found the manual release and pulled on the lever. The maintenance hatch slowly opened upward. He shined his lights into the gloom to ensure there was nothing waiting for them inside, but he couldn’t make out anything in the shadows.

  Dickerson pushed on the edge and descended back to the floor next to Carb. She and Elliott had already followed. “Go on up,” he said to her, “but keep your rifle handy.”

  “Copy that,” she said. “Ready, Elliott?”

  “Get us out of here before we’re food,” he said in a daze.

  “Aye aye, luggage,” she said and pushed off the floor. Dickerson watched her disappear into the maintenance tunnel.

  “Corporal?” he said and turned around. Just as he did, he saw a bright flash of light followed by an explosion of blue electricity. “Fuck. Move!” he yelled.

  Kalimura detached from the floor and jetted backwards toward him, her rifle still firing at the creature in the corridor. Dickerson caught her and flung her upwards in a smooth motion, his left shoulder screaming in pain. She shot up through the hatch and disappeared.

  Dickerson looked down the corridor. The creature bled silvery liquid, its arms smashing into the walls as it crawled toward him. Dickerson took a deep breath, bent his knees, and pushed. He flew up into the maintenance tunnel just as the creature reached where he’d been. He grabbed the side of the tunnel to stop himself and looked down.

  The creature had reoriented itself, its teeth snapping at him and arms reaching for him. He kicked the hatch shut and placed his feet on the square of Atmo-steel. His boots vibrated as the thing trapped in the corridor tried to follow. Breathing a sigh of relief, he looked upward.

  The maintenance shaft was only a few meters tall before it flattened into a tunnel. The sides were smooth and obviously not grav-plated. Dickerson guessed all maintenance operations took place in z-g to make it easier for technicians to lift heavy equipment. Although what the tunnel was actually for, he’d no idea.

  “Dickerson? You clear?” Kalimura asked.

  “Aye, Corporal. Although you pissed that thing off something fierce.”

  She chuckled nervously. “Get up here,” Kalimura said in a shaky voice. “We have to find another way to the auxiliary bridge.”

  “No shit,” he said under his breath. He dropped his head and stared at the hatch below. The metal shuddered. “Fuck you,” he said to the creature on the other side of the hatch and lifted himself via the guide rings into the tunnel.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  He needed a shower. Hell, everyone needed one. Mag-walking for over an hour and then getting in a fight with alien creatures was stressful. And one thing bio-nannies didn’t do was clean your skin of sweat. Much less your jumpsuit if you had a brown patch.

  Gunny finished sucking down a hydration pouch, wincing every time he breathed through his nose. The last time he’d smelled this bad had to have been during the Satellite War. Or maybe during Basic Training on New Parris. He sighed and tossed the pouch into the recycler. There was no time for a shower.

  Taulbee had already sent a block communication. The captain wanted Gunny to head to the briefing room in five minutes. And instead of sitting there in a fresh jumpsuit and looking like a professional soldier, he was going to stink up the room like a Martian miner.

  “Gunny?”

  He turned at the sound of the voice and fought the urge to smile. Copenhaver stood at attention, a hydration pack in her hands. She looked as bad as he imagined he did. “PFC. Recovering?”

  She nodded. “As well as I can be,” she said. “Where did the captain get those flechette rounds?”

  “Good question,” he said. “I think I’m about to find out.”

  Copenhaver raised an eyebrow and then it slowly slid back into place. “The rest of the squad has Nobel in the autodoc. Sounds like he’s going to be okay.”

  “Aye,” Gunny said. “Good shooting out there, PFC. Keep that up and you’ll be an NCO before you know it.”

  She grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind, Gunny. Right now, I just want to survive long enough to see Trident Station again.”

  “Copy that,” Gunny said. The smile on Copenhaver’s face was difficult to ignore. Part of him wanted to return her grin, but that would be counter-productive. For now, at least. “Find Wendt. Tell him to get his fat ass to the cargo bay with his squad and get to work prepping for repairs.”

  “Aye, Gunny,” she said. Without another word, she double-timed it out of the kitchen in the direction of the coffins.

  He watched her go and immediately felt a pang of loss. What the hell was wrong with him? “Getting old and sentimental,” he mumbled aloud before turning on his heel and heading to the briefing room.

  The doo
r was closed. He raised a fist to knock, but it slid aside before he had the chance. Hand still in the air, he flushed red as he saw Taulbee, Oakes, and Dunn all staring at him. Taulbee grinned.

  “Guess Black knew you were coming,” the lieutenant said.

  “Looks like it, sir.”

  “Come in and at ease,” Dunn said. He gestured to a chair next to Taulbee.

  Gunny walked to the chair and sat down. He suddenly realized he wasn’t the only one who looked like shit. Taulbee’s uniform was in as bad a shape as his own. Dunn’s was sweat-stained too and he’d only been out there for twenty minutes or so. For the first time he could remember, the briefing room smelled like a locker room after PT.

  The holo-display between the two sides of the table lit up. A model of Mira floated in mid-air. He saw the harness lines on the ship’s exterior glowing a deep blue.

  “First off,” Dunn said, “good job on getting the harness down, Gunny. And for saving our necks.”

  “My pleasure, sir,” Gunny said stiffly.

  The captain leaned forward. “I’ve already told Taulbee this, but now I’m telling you. Kalimura’s squad is alive.”

  Gunny’s lips twitched. He did his best to keep his expression stony, but wasn’t quite able to pull it off. He remained silent for a moment while Dunn locked eyes with him. When the captain didn’t continue, Gunny cleared his throat. “That’s good to hear, sir. May I ask a question?”

  “Of course,” Dunn said.

  “When are we leaving to rescue them?”

  Dunn grinned. “Somehow I knew that was going to be your question.” He pointed at the model. The exterior dissolved displaying a schematic of the ship’s interior. Gunny gaped. “The Trio was kind enough to send us a detailed map of Mira. We now have what we need, I hope, to get them out.”

  Oakes raised a finger, a deep frown on his face. “Excuse me, sir?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Why didn’t we have this information before we left Trident Station?” the pilot asked.

  Dunn tapped his fingers on the table. “To be honest, gentlemen, I don’t understand the Trio’s motivations. While I hope we can eventually sort all that out, it’s immaterial to the problems at hand.”