Star Watch

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Jason heard Larkbadder’s voice again and realized hordes of people were moving—rushing forward, toward the ramps. Crap! He’d let the time run away! He brought up the SkyTrans schematic overlay and pinpointed engineering’s location. It would be a tight squeeze, but he found a location suitable to phase-shift into. About to phase-shift away, Jason was hailed.

  “Go for Captain.”

  “Captain … I’m reading highly-elevated heat signatures from four other anti-gravity generators. They’re red-lining, Cap!”

  “We’re working on it, Gunny,” Jason said, looking back out the window. At first he didn’t see any sign of the Minian, but he then spotted her about one thousand feet above. “I’m hoping it won’t come to this, but be prepared to phase-shift anyone wearing a battle suit back onto the Minian—save as many as possible, if this rock falls.”

  “I think most would phase-shift off themselves, Cap … but, yes, we’ll ensure our people get off the cloud-port.”

  Jason cut the connection and phase-shifted to the SkyTrans’s opposite end. As dingy and grimy as the passenger and bridge sections of the SkyTrans engine were, he found engineering far worse for wear and neglect. Steam hissed and sprayed from too many broken, or cracked, pipe openings to count, and the air was thick with humidity. Pipes of every size surrounded him. Large boiler-type containers took up nearly the entire compartment space. Corrosion and sediment gave everything an archaic, on the verge of crumbling apart, feeling. How old is this thing?

  Jason, again using the schematic overlay to locate where the ship’s actual drive mechanism was located, found it was farther back, more toward the stern. Heading twenty steps down a narrow passage, amid a jungle of more pipes, he found it. The massive drive system took up most of the stern section of the vessel—surprisingly, it looked to be partially mechanical-looking, strange for it being an ion drive. Here too, everything was all dripping with condensation; it sat idle. Jason thought it would be a miracle if the thing even turned over.

  The SkyTrans began to rock back and forth. Jason had the same sinking feeling in his gut and waited for the cloud-port to stop falling. Eventually, it did … but the rocking motion continued. They were running out of time. Where the hell’s Ricket?

  Jason saw the flash of something and Ricket’s life-icon appeared on his HUD, along with Bristol’s. Jason walked forward and came to a set of steps leading up to a metal catwalk.

  “Here, Captain.”

  Jason found Ricket, kneeling down by a black, nondescript enclosure the size of a typical Navy-issue footlocker. He seemed to be trying to figure out how to open it. Bristol was holding an advanced-looking, toaster-sized piece of equipment that looked completely out of place in these surroundings.

  Bristol, seeing Jason approach, handed him the device. “Hold this.”

  Bristol’s disregard of respecting military protocol came as no surprise to Jason. The truth was, Bristol didn’t actually hold a military post on the Minian. He was more of a consultant than anything else. Brilliant as he was, Jason found even a little bit of the guy went a long way.

  “Just get out of the way and let me do it,” Bristol said to Ricket. “I don’t see how you can do anything with those little Craing fingers of yours … Move!”

  Ricket backed away, giving him space at the enclosure. Bristol moved his hands around a flange, one hand going left, the other going right, his fingertips probing its underneath side. His left hand abruptly stopped. He moved his right hand to the same corresponding position on the other side of the enclosure. He gripped his fingers and there came an audible unlatching sound. Bristol pulled up on the enclosure, and its upper half came away in his hands. “Out of the way … I’m putting this down right where you’re standing.”

  Jason stepped back as the top half of the enclosure slammed down onto the catwalk.

  Ricket moved quickly, taking the toaster-sized device away from Jason, and kneeled at the open enclosure. Bristol pulled a satchel around to his front that he wore over one shoulder. Inside it were a myriad of wires and cables and other small devices that Jason was clueless about.

  “Use the ano-adapter to splice—”

  “I already know that, Ricket. Why don’t you just let me do it?” Bristol barked, nudging Ricket to the side with his scrawny shoulder.

  Jason lost his balance as the SkyTrans began rocking violently. He found a horizontally running pipe, at head level, to grab on to. And then the shuddering started. Like little micro-falls. Ricket and Bristol looked up and around.

  “Don’t stop!” Jason commanded.

  That earned Jason a backward glance from Bristol as he and Ricket quickly returned to whatever it was they were doing inside the enclosure.

  Jason answered an incoming hail, “Go for Captain.”

  “We need to get you three out of there, Cap!” Orion yelled into his NanoCom.

  “And leave thousands of Tromians to fall to their deaths? I think we’ve almost got it. Ricket and—”

  “Then you don’t know … the cloud-port … Captain, it’s free falling!”

  “What?”

  “Free falling!”

  “Okay … read off the altitude as we fall. We’ll phase-shift out if we have to.”

  “You’re at twenty-five thousand feet, and falling … twenty-four …”

  Jason saw Ricket and Bristol were done—Bristol reaching for the top of the enclosure.

  “Leave the fucking thing … we’re free falling. Ricket, get this thing kicked over!”

  Ricket looked up at Jason, his eyes wide behind his visor. “We can’t do that from here. We need to get back to the bridge.”

  “Twenty-two thousand … Twenty-one thousand …”

  “Then get us there!” Jason spat out.

  Ricket continued to stare up at him. “The overlay schematic … Captain, there are … people crowded into the bridge.”

  “Eighteen thousand … seventeen thousand …”

  Jason didn’t hesitate and phase-shifted the three of them into the bridge compartment. Typically, Jason found that a phase-shift into solid mass would always displace the mass—the phase-shifter taking precedence over what was there. In the case of a phase-shift onto organic material, as would be the case here, the phase-shift process could be catastrophic to the recipient. Like a sudden impact akin to being hit by a car—organic material, such as a person, rarely walked away from it.

  The flash occurred and bodies flew everywhere—screams filling the air.

  “Fifteen thousand … fourteen thousand …”

  “Everyone out of here! Now!” Jason yelled. Several Tromians, lying immobile on the deck, were either dead or unconscious. Scared, and moving way too slowly, the crowd began to clear out of the confined space.

  “Thirteen thousand … twelve thousand …”

  Jason pushed a man out of the way and looked for Ricket, but found Bristol instead. He was crouched down at the center console; Ricket’s legs protruded from beneath it. He heard Ricket on the open channel: “Try it now!”

  “Ten thousand … nine thousand …”

  Bristol threw a large lever forward, and the SkyTrans began to vibrate … but now it was a constant, rhythmic, vibration … the drive had come alive!

  “Seven thousand …”

  “We’re still falling!” Jason yelled.

  Ricket joined Bristol and both were busy at the controls. Jason wondered if it was time … time to abandon and move his people from the SkyTrans and off the cloud-port. He wondered if he could really abandon the tens of thousands of Tromians on the cloud-port to meet their dire fate on the rapidly-approaching surface below.

  “Five thousand …”

  Outside the forward observation window he saw the cloud-port falling away from their SkyTrans—plummeting faster toward the surface of Trom.

  “I’m getting us out of here!” Jason yelled.

  “Five thousand and sixty … Five thousand and fifty … Five thousand and forty … Hey, Cap,” Orion said, relief in her
voice, “at your current rate of descent, you’ll be able to land that thing and survive.”

  Ricket and Bristol glanced over to Jason … both smiling.

  Chapter 25

  Alchieves System

  Planet Trom, Cloud-Port E5926

  _________________

  Leon, grasping on to a vertical support beam within the cloud-base’s control tower, was having a hard time staying on his feet. The distant SkyTrans, already separated from its berth, was only somewhat staying aloft on its own, slowly moving away from the falling cloud-port. For the last several minutes, Leon, without any notable success, tried using his internal NanoCom to request assistance from the Minian, while Larkbadder conversed with one of the tall, AI-controlled, mecher robots at the back of the tower.

  Larkbadder looked concerned, his voice rose as he continued to interrogate the robot. He looked over to Leon, “We’re in free fall … we’re about to smash down onto the surface.”

  Leon nodded. “I know that! I’ve been trying to get someone’s attention … anyone’s, actually.”

  They’d opted to stay in the control tower even as the last stragglers hurried up several gangways onto the SkyTrans. Then, the free-fall began, and even walking was nearly impossible. Leon looked through the smashed-out observation window and could see the quickly-approaching planet’s surface below them. He estimated the cloud-port they were on was no more than ten to fifteen thousand feet above the surface and was falling fast. Which meant they had mere minutes, if even that, to survive.

  Leon turned away from the window and let out a controlled breath. “So, what is the bot saying?” he asked, not really interested.

  “Basically … that we’re fucked.”

  That made Leon smile, in spite of the dire situation. Clumsily, the mecher stumbled its way over to Leon and introduced itself. “Hello, I am Trommy5.”

  “Uh huh,” Leon said, turning away. He looked down toward the concourse below, trying his NanoCom again. He felt a hand tug on his shoulder and spun around. “Hey, just back off … okay?” Leon said, expecting to see the annoying mecher.

  But it wasn’t the mecher. Billy Hernandez, Sergeant Jackson, and Rizzo stood there in their battle suits. “We need to go … now!” Without another word Billy and Rizzo moved in close and wrapped their arms around Leon and Larkbadder.

  Larkbadder almost pulled free. “That one too! Don’t leave that bot!”

  Jackson hesitated, but then, coming to some sort of mental resolve, went ahead and wrapped his arms around the tall, awkward, mecher. The six phase-shifted away, fifteen seconds before the cloud-port splashed into the largest of Trom’s oceans below.

  * * *

  Leon, years earlier, spent time on The Lilly; he was assigned to her for sixteen months, so he was familiar with the beautiful aesthetics provided on a Caldurian vessel. But the Minian, at least one hundred years newer, took him by surprise. Sure, she was huge—over a mile long—but her symmetry and graceful lines … the attention given to every detail, to the smallest degree, stunned him. Typically, starships were all about utility. But the Minian was much more than that; almost feminine in design, the ship had curves and padded bulkheads; muted colors were used throughout … everything was flush and integrated … impeccably constructed. As Leon walked the long corridor, he was quite sure she was one of the most advanced starships in the galaxy.

  They had phase-shifted into the flight deck. Billy and Rizzo immediately sprinted away, having to attend to other emergencies. Jackson, big as any NFL linebacker, was their escort and walked several paces in front of Leon and Larkbadder. The mecher, Trommy5, was noisily clanging along behind.

  Jackson, his visor raised, turned his big head back toward Leon. “Hey, man, the hospital is right there, off to the right. I’ll take the commander and the … um … bot down to the barracks. You’re supposed to be escorted, so let me know when you’re done here.”

  Leon nodded, slowed to a stop and watched them as they headed in the direction of a nearby DeckPort. Leon watched as Larkbadder looked unsure about entering into the elevator-like opening. Only this opening wasn’t solid—more like a constantly moving distortion field—one that would transport the user to any deck on the ship … as long as the user had a clear intention of where he wanted to go. There were more conventional ways to use the DeckPort for the novice, as well, and Leon continued to watch as Jackson, undoubtedly, explained the other methods to Larkbadder and the bot. Eventually, Sergeant Jackson grabbed both Larkbadder’s and Trommy5’s wrists and together they stepped into the DeckPort. Leon knew the instant they stepped from this level they would step out onto another level—just as if they’d walked through a door.

  Leon turned toward the doublewide hatchway on his right and entered the Minian’s Medical area. Easily five times the size of that on The Lilly, this hospital had several large, adjacent compartments. The first one was equipped with numerous MediPods, all seeming to be in use, and there was a laboratory, of sorts, on the left. A more conventional hospital layout, with railed beds, also all in use, was off to the right. Medical personnel scurried here and there, some escorting injured Tromians to MediPods or, next door, into hospital beds.

  At the far end of the compartment, Leon spotted a flash of violet skin. He headed off toward the exotic-looking doctor … what was her name? Oh yeah … Dira.

  She was obviously the one in charge here. Leon watched as she gave instructions to one of the med techs. “This one’s almost done … get the elderly lady in the recovery room prepped.” The med tech hurried off. Dira did a double-take when she saw Leon approaching.

  “Mr. Pike. Heard you almost went for a swim in one of Trom’s larger oceans.”

  “Well, I do like to make a splash … but opted to keep breathing a while longer.”

  “You’re here to see Hanna?”

  Leon nodded.

  “You found her,” Dira said, gesturing toward the MediPod behind him that he’d just passed.

  Dira gestured for Leon to join her at her side. They both peered down into the small elongated window at the top portion of the MediPod’s clamshell-like top. Leon first noticed Hanna’s straw-colored long hair; several strands had fallen over her still face, her expression peaceful.

  “Is she okay? Will she—”

  “She’s fine. That is, at least health-wise,” Dira said, glancing back to Leon.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Dira’s reply was interrupted by the approach of Captain Reynolds. Leon estimated him to be around forty, and physically very capable. As tall as Leon, he had dark hair and eyes, and didn’t seem like the typical skipper. Definitely didn’t do things by the book and, from what he’d observed, was friends with much of the crew. They were loyal to him and he to them. And there was definitely something going on between him and Dira.

  “How is she?” the captain asked, looking into the small window on the opposite side of the MediPod.

  “Hello to you, too, Jason,” Dira said.

  Jason smiled and held Dira’s eyes for a moment … “Hello, Dira.” His eyes shifted to Leon. “Mr. Pike.”

  “She’s fine. I can let her out of this thing now,” Dira said, reaching for the MediPod’s control tablet.

  “Wait just a minute, Dira,” the captain said—his eyes still on Leon. “How well do you know this woman?”

  “Know her?” said Leon. “I don’t … not really. I saved her life … rescued her from a falling building. Since then she’s helped me kill plenty of Pharloms. I assumed she was a university student on Trom.” Leon shrugged, letting the captain know that was all he knew.

  Jason turned as a skinny guy in his late teens, or early twenties, approached. His face, perpetually scowling, and his beak-like nose, gave him a birdlike quality. Pimples, several ripe for the picking, clustered around his chin and nose.

  “Bristol … thanks for coming,” the captain said.

  “I was busy; what do you want?”

  “I want you to take a look a
t this woman.”

  Leon didn’t know what to make of that statement. What could this scrawny kid have to do with Hanna? But then he saw it too. Probably the same thing the captain had previously noticed. Beautiful Hanna, lying in the MediPod, and this homely kid shared something between them. They both had the same eyes. Mostly it was the same distinctive light blue color, but something else too: the structure of their brows and cheekbones. Their resemblance, in that regard, was uncanny.

  Bristol peered down into the MediPod, little changing in his sour expression. “Yeah … so what?”

  Hanna opened her eyes and looked around her surroundings. Initially, fear showed in her expression but then understanding—perhaps she remembered what happened to her on Trom—being transported here to the Minian’s hospital to be treated for severe burns.

  She looked to her left first and saw Dira, then her eyes moved to Leon’s. She smiled. Turning her head she looked out through the other window and saw Bristol. Hanna’s expression turned to confusion and then … intense emotion, as her eyes, so similar to the skinny young man’s above her, brimmed with tears. Her hands came up, covering her mouth, and she began sobbing within the confines of the MediPod.

  Chapter 26

  Alchieves System

  The Minian, Medical

  _________________

  The clamshell slowly separated, coming to a stop once fully opened. Jason watched as Bristol continued to stare down at the MediPod’s lone inhabitant.

  Hanna, composed to the point she’d stopped crying, swung her feet over the MediPod’s side and down onto the deck. Dira held out her hand, giving added support to Hanna, who slowly stood. She turned and, finding Leon, a fleeting smile returned.