Wool kept her false smile up for fear of angering the cat, “What do we do, honey?”
“Fight.”
“We fight?” Tor snapped. “Fight who?”
“Did someone say fight?” Jaycee’s voice boomed from the door, “I’m up for a fight. I think I’ll start with knocking your block off, Rabinovich.”
“Hey-hey,” Tor took one step back and held his hands out at Jaycee, “Don’t you touch me, you dumb mound of metal.”
Jaycee clenched his one good hand and threatened to punch the man, “Where’s Anderson?”
“Under the bed. Look.”
“Right,” Jaycee thumped the bedside desk and used it for balance. His right knee slammed against the ground, putting a dent in the tile.
“Be careful,” Wool said. “You and your heavy frame.”
“Shhh,” Jaycee peered under the bed and waved at Jelly with his severed wrist, “Hey, girl.”
“J-Jaycee…” Jelly squinted and refused to move.
“Yes, it’s me. Why don’t you come out?”
"Scared."
"We’re all scared."
He unclasped the side of the desk and pushed his good hand under the bed, "Com here, girl. It’s okay."
Jelly didn’t want to go anywhere near him. She shook her head and covered her body with her furry, human-like arms, "No. Safe here."
Jaycee climbed to his feet, "She won’t come out.”
An idea came to him. He opened the compartment on his leg and took out a black smart bomb, "Wait, I got it."
Wool raised her eyebrows, "You’re not going to blow her up, are you?"
"Don’t be stupid."
He grabbed the bulk of the grenade in his hand swung it upside down. The metal hook and pin at the top of the device jangled back and forth.
"Here, kitty-kitty-kitty," he smiled, dangling the pin in front of her, "Look at the shiny-shiny."
"Miew…" Jelly’s cat-like desires got the better of her. She took a swipe at the jangling metal only for Jaycee to pull it away from under the bed.
"Haha, look at her going for it," Jaycee pulled the smart bomb back . He knew Jelly couldn’t resist attacking it.
"Be careful, man," Tor said. "What if she yanks the pin—"
SCHWAPP!
Jelly’s right infinity claw sliced through the air and hooked through the metal loop. Jaycee yanked it back, but was too late.
CLICK!
"Oh dear."
"Smart bomb armed," came a tinny voice from the hook, along with three flashing lights, "Warning, smart bomb armed."
"Christ almighty," Tor and Wool hopped to the other side of the room in a bid to take cover, "Make it stop."
"Miew," Jelly bolted from under the bed and hopped onto the desk. She attacked the rumbling grenade in Jaycee’s palm.
"Ah, get back," Jaycee thumped the pin back into place. The lights flashed off one by one.
"Smart bomb deactivated," advised the grenade.
Tor and Wool exhaled in utter relief.
"Jelly… play. Toy," she held out her paw and demanded he give her the grenade.
"You want this?"
"Jelly wanting."
"No, Anderson. This isn’t a toy," Jaycee slid the bomb in his thigh compartment and clamped it shut, "This is for the big boys."
She thumped her chest with pride, "Me. Big cat."
"No," Wool moved to the desk, “You, silly cat.”
“You. Silly,” Jelly smirked.
Wool looked at Jelly with suspicion, "Honey, you’re not a big cat. You’re very unwell."
Jelly threw her adopted maternal crew member a vacant stare.
"Wh-what are you looking at?" Wool asked with a side order of dumbstruck awe.
"Beta moves," Jelly flicked her ears and clutched the side of the desk. She looked over Wool’s shoulder and saw the pink horizon shudder back and forth, "We fly."
Jaycee, Tor, and Wool looked at the window in surprise.
"I don’t get it," Jaycee held his breath and saw the ravenous Shanta horde scurrying across the sand from the ocean, "The thrusters aren’t on. How are we moving?"
Tor walked through the holographic E-MRI of Jelly’s body and pressed his palms against the window. His breath fogged up the plastic as he muttered, "I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense."
A sprawling root filled the lower half of the window.
"We’re definitely lifting, though—
SCHLAMMMM!
A black branch smacked against the window. Tor jumped out of his shoes with fright, "H-Holy shi—"
SQQQUUEEEAAKKK!
The black substance smeared out into five, thick digits and tensed against the exterior of the ship.
Jaycee reached for his Rez-9 and pointed it at the window.
"That tree thing. It’s taken a hold of us," he waved the others back to the door, "Get away from the window."
Wool grabbed Jelly and set her in her arms, "Don’t shoot the window, you’ll get us killed."
The room shuddered once again. The force of gravity shifted from the floor and up the back wall.
Tor, Jaycee, and Wool staggered onto the surface of the wall in an attempt to keep upright.
"Mommy?" Jelly tensed her muscles and clung to the woman’s inner-suit, "What goes on?"
"I don’t know, honey. Just hold on to me."
Tor lost his mind and snapped his fingers, "Manuel?"
No response.
"Damn it," Tor turned to the door. Tripp and Bonnie clung to it as the ship revolved on the spot.
"What’s going on?" Tripp screamed from the door frame. He placed his foot on the wall in an attempt to keep up with the gravity subsidence.
Bonnie placed her boot on the door frame and threw her hands in front of her face, "Wool. Is everything locked to the floor?"
"Everything except the utilities," Wool tumbled next to her and slid up the length of the wall. She watched the beds climb away and released Jelly onto the picture of Jamie.
"Friend," Jelly said.
She pawed her way over the picture as the gravitational pull rolled across the ceiling.
The E-MRI holograph continued to revolve in the center of the room.
"Guys, listen up," Tripp barked across the room, "The thrusters aren’t on, but we’re being moved. We need to get to the control deck—"
CLANG-SCHPLANG-SCHTANG!
Various medicinal items - including scalpels and syringes tipped out from the trays and crashed against the ceiling. Each sheet lifted from its bed and drew into the air like an angry ghost.
"Tripp, I don’t know what you have planned," Wool screamed, "But make it quick."
SHUNT… CREAK… GROWLLL!
"What the hell was that?" Jaycee applied his weight to the ceiling.
The three suns warbled together like an unholy light bulb of God, "Captain, we could use some guidance here."
Tripp looked around the floor and snapped his fingers, "Manuel?"
Snap-snap. Still no response.
"Something must have happened to him," Tor placed the sole of his left boot on the ceiling and the other on the adjacent wall. The utilities clanged around his boots.
"The comms must be cut. We need to get to control."
"Wool?" Tripp asked.
"Yes?"
Tripp saw Jelly sliding across the ceiling toward the far wall, "Is what you said true? About Jelly?"
Wool pointed at the upside-down E-MRI. Three glowing dots appeared in the abdomen section of the holographic diagram.
"It’s right there. What’s the state of Botanix?"
"Jaycee took care of them," Tripp said. "Stay here with Jelly and keep the door closed. Bonnie, Jaycee, Tor. Come with me to the control deck."
"How are we supposed to get there when the ship is spinning like a spit roast?" Bonnie asked.
Tripp pushed himself onto the ceiling of the level three walkway, "Improvise."
Chapter 3
USARIC Research & Development Institute
(Ten miles northeast of Cape Claudius)
USARIC Chief Executive Officer Maar Sheck sat at the head of the conference table.
When he first arrived in the bunker it resembled little more than a makeshift nuclear shelter. Only the common survival tools one would expect to see were present - a large refrigerator and a sectioned-off compartment acting as a makeshift bathroom.
Now, many months later, and upon his insistence, a selection of life’s more amenable luxuries were installed.
A plush couch lined the wall. An antiquated one-hundred-inch TV screen installed on the long wall. It reminded him of his younger days.
His right-hand man, Kaoz, stood by the open door as the board members shuffled into the room.
“Quickly, please,” a hurried Crain McDormand led them inside. He placed his briefcase on the central table and took a seat next to Maar.
"Is this all of them?"
"Only seven of the twelve could make it," Crain snapped the locks up on his briefcase and removed a bunch of papers.
Maar pressed his hands together and made eyes at each board member. They took their seats around the table.
"Are we quorate, though?"
"Yes. Seven makes it over half."
"Right, I’m starting—"
"—But don’t you want to go through—"
"—No," Maar stood up and held his hands at the seven members of the board.
"Good people, I’m very sorry you’ve been rushed here on short notice. I’d like to apologize for the lack of refreshments and change of venue. Sadly, it is necessary in light of recent events."
"Does anyone know you’re down here?" asked an elderly female board member, "We’re concerned about you."
"That’s very touching. And, no, no one knows I’m here. Not even my family," Maar waved his hand over the table.
A holographic vector of something named Space Opera Charlie zipped to life and rotated on its axis, "And by the way, no one can know I am down here."
"Space Opera Charlie?" another board member pointed at the vector. He clutched at the name placard resting on the desk: Samuel Moore.
"Yes, Samuel. We received a communication from commander Tripp Healy on Opera Beta. Captain Daryl Katz and two of his crew had been killed trying to rescue those on Opera Alpha. Healy went on to confirm that they had decoded Saturn Cry with the help of Anderson, the winner of the Star Cat Project. Then, they disappeared."
"We’ve heard nothing since?" Samuel looked at the others for a reaction, "What’s this got to do with Opera Charlie?"
"As major shareholder of USARIC, I seek approval to change the operational remit of Opera Charlie."
The female board member adjusted her lens-less spectacles and rifled through her papers.
"The board approached the select committee to green light the rescue mission. They agreed and confirmed a launch date of August 29th, 2119."
"That’s two weeks from now," Samuel said. "Who are the team?"
The female board member read from her paper, "Colin De St Croix, Captain. Joined the American Star Fleet in 2110—"
"Ah. They’re not going, anymore," Maar snapped.
"They’re not?" Samuel asked. He expected Maar to explain himself but, instead, received a look of disdain.
"What are you looking at me like that for?" Samuel asked.
"I want to change Opera Charlie’s task and finish remit."
"You what, now?" Samuel pulled at his collar trying to cool himself down, "You can’t just change Opera Charlie’s without proper consultation—"
"—Yes I damn well can, Samuel," Maar spat and thumped the table. "I’ve been trapped in this godforsaken bunker for two months. I’ve been told I can expect to be here for months, maybe even years. Don’t talk to me about consultation, you imbecile. Look at the damned vector."
The Space Opera Charlie image continued to revolve. An exact replica of Beta and Alpha before her, it contained a control deck, fit room, botanical garden, and medician center. The board noticed its reduced size when held up against its predecessors.
"No N-Vigorate chamber?" Samuel asked. "You’re not taking any canaries on board?"
"No. No need," Maar said. "Are you getting the picture, now?"
Samuel spread his fingers and enlarged the entirety of the second level on Opera Charlie; USARIC Weapons & Armory.
"The whole of level two is Weapons & Armory?" Samuel swallowed hard and leaned back in his chair, "It’s not a rescue mission, is it?”
“No.”
“It’s a suicide mission."
"Not quite."
"What is it if not a suicide mission?"
Maar nodded at Crain, who turned to the board and rose out of his chair.
"After Dimitry Vasilov’s assassination, and the expulsion of twenty-three diplomats from US soil, we feel we should exercise damage limitation. I want there to be no doubt before we seek approval from the board for the new motion."
Crain played the recorded video message sent by Opera Beta. Tripp’s face fizzed to life above the table.
"Commence playback, please."
Tripp appeared to speak to the members of the board. In reality, it was his recorded message to the lens on the N-Gage control panel.
"This is Tripp Healy, assumed captain of Space Opera Beta. We have lost her captain, Daryl Katz…."
The board watched as the lens caught sight of Saturn and her revolving rings through Opera Beta’s windshield.
"Shortly before boarding Space Opera Alpha we deciphered enough of Saturn Cry to ascertain that it was, indeed, sending a distress call. Baldron Landaker and Tor Klyce are in incarceration. Dimitri Vasilov, I hope you can hear this. Maar, I hope you’re with him. This has been a deliberate sabotage of our mission. I hope USARIC finds the powers it has to rectify the situation."
Tripp shifted the lens. The board, and Maar and Crain, peered into the holographic video. A beautiful pink shaft of gas stretched out from the middle of Enceladus.
"Is that what they found?" Samuel asked.
Crain paused the video and enlarged the image with his fingers. He traced the pink light coming from Enceladus with his fingertip.
"Yes, this is what he was talking about. Resume playback, please."
Tripp’s recording played on, "Alpha was destroyed. Most of us made it back, but we seem to have contracted some sort of virus. The same extends to Anderson—”
“Anderson?” Samuel asked.
"The cat,” Crain said. “Jelly Anderson. From the UK.”
“Ah, right. Yes, of course. The limey cat.”
“ —Botanix has been compromised,” Tripp continued. “I am waiting on Manuel to report back on the severity of the damage. I do not expect it to be positive."
Tripp lifted his head. The light show coming from Enceladus reflected across his pupils. Two pink tears rolled down his cheek, "Oh m-my. Look at it. It’s beautiful…"
The video paused for a couple of seconds and snapped away, leaving the vector of Charlie rotating above the table. All eyes averted to the image. Most in the room predicted what Maar wanted. It made them nervous.
“So?” Maar finished.
Everyone turned to him, including Crain and Kaoz.
“Let’s establish the facts, shall we?” Maar left a pregnant pause and made his way behind each of the seated board members, “Opera Beta found Alpha and destroyed it. It would appear the cat has decoded the distress call. They’ve all caught some hideous disease. I ask you, members of the board, does it make sense of Opera Charlie to go and rescue them?”
“For the sake of the crew?” Samuel chanced. “Yes, I think—"
“—No,” Maar said. “You think incorrectly, Samuel. The insurance claims alone will sink us.”
“You can’t be suggesting we—”
“—Beta is missing and contains the key to Saturn Cry. The crew are running out of oxygen. They’ll be dead by the time Charlie reaches them. We can’t take the risk of bringing
them home. But we can go in there, destroy everything and come back home with the answer.”
“You w-want Charlie’s remit to go from search and rescue to… search and destroy?”
“Indeed I do.”
Maar waved his hand over the conference table. The images of three mercenaries appeared above the table - two men and a woman.
“Since news of the compound breach got out, we’ve seen the value of our stock plummet. We lost nearly half of our subjects.”
“This is insanity.”
Maar didn’t care for the board member’s response. He threw Kaoz a signaled wink.
“This is necessary,” Maar said. “The three crew members before you are the cream of the crop. Highly-trained, merciless killing machines. At the very top of their game. It is these five who will be manning Opera Charlie to get our property back. Namely, Jelly Anderson and the answer to Saturn Cry.”
Kaoz cocked his gun and aimed it at the board members. Crain, who was used to more due diligence, closed his eyes and allowed the inevitable to play out, “God help us all.”
“All those in favor of Opera Charlie’s remit being change to search and destroy raise your hands.”
No one dared move a muscle.
“Okay, let me put this another way,” Maar kicked the table in fury, “Those of you who wish to remain alive. Raise your hands, please.”
Six board members reluctantly put their hands in the air, leaving Samuel to freak out.
“This is asinine,” Samuel barked. He couldn’t believe his fellow colleagues would bow down to Maar’s demands, “This is improper. You can’t threaten us like this."
“I think you’ll find I can,” Maar’s eyes crept behind Samuel’s shoulders. Kaoz marched a few feet away from the door, “All those in favor of Opera Charlie’s change of remit… keep your hands raised.”
The board members kept their hands in the air, eager to satisfy Maar and Kaoz.
Samuel refused to relent and screamed at his colleagues, “Are you serious? You’re just going to sit there and cave in while he—"
"—He’s got a gun, Samuel," the female board member whispered, "Just do it.”
“I am not going to be bullied into turning a philanthropic endeavor into a wanton act of barbarism.”
“No?” Maar gave the man a final chance.
“No.”
Star Cat: The First Trilogy (Infinity Claws, Pink Symphony, War Mage) Page 48
