by Henry Vogel
Within thirty minutes, meat turned on a spit and sizzled atop rocks Sko cleaned and set up around the fire. The man knew his way around a cook fire, that much was certain. And the smell of grilling boar—I finally asked Sko what the beast was called—had my stomach rumbling. But did I dare eat the meat? Could my system handle it? I could eat survival rations from the backpack, but the meat smelled delicious, a word no one ever used when describing survival rations. Worse, would I offend Sko if I turned down his feast?
After a lot of dithering, I decided to try the boar. I only had rations for a few weeks and really needed to save them for emergencies. Sko handed me a huge slab of meat. I immediately cut it down to more appropriate size, offering the rest to him. The man dove right in, showing no table manners at all. Of course, we also had no table, so it balanced out. I found the meat tasty and ate more than I originally planned.
Sated, I lay back on the ground and, for the first time since I came out of the elevator, looked up. With a start, I realized the light was fading. I’d been so caught up watching Sko butcher and cook the boar, I hadn’t noticed the waning light. My stomach full and my mind numbed by all that had happened to me in a single day, I felt my eyelids grow heavy. The crackling fire added to the relaxing ambience and, against my better judgement, I fell asleep.
I awoke to a hand shaking my shoulder. Disoriented, I flailed about for a second before Sko’s face swam into view above me. With a rush, the events of the previous day came back to me. Some approximation of moonlight bathed our little camp and, in that light, I saw fear in Sko’s eyes.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Lizzen.” he replied, pointing at the elevator-camouflaging rock.
A grinding whine came from the rock. With a clunk, the sound stopped, replaced by a soft whoosh. A line of light appeared in the rock, widening as the door slid open.
Inside, packed tight in the small space, stood five of the Fringers.
CHAPTER TWO
Mootners
One of the Fringers inside the elevator spoke in a deep voice. “Radison, go back for the next squad. The rest of you, we’re going to find the bastard who shot up my ship.”
The man had no Fringer accent nor laced his speech with any Fringer slang. He could be a new settler on a Fringe world, but I didn’t think so. The emphasis he put on ‘my ship’ told me the man meant that literally, not figuratively. The Fringers filled out their thin fleet with a lot of mercenaries and this guy had to be one of them.
You never know what you’re going to get with mercs. Many are honest and honorable. Some are no better than pirates. Honorable mercs wouldn’t have shot at me in the docking bay. All of this flashed through my mind in a split second and prompted my response.
“My parents are happily married, merc.” After my response to the man’s insult, I shot him.
It was a long range shot for a pistol and wasn’t particularly accurate. But if I hit the elevator at all, the shot was certain to hit someone—which it did. The leader yelped as my shot burned his thigh. He fell out of the door, landing half in and half out of the elevator. The other four men fired blindly into the surrounding darkness, none of the shots coming anywhere close to Sko and me.
The light in the elevator worked completely against them, lighting the mercs up for me and ruining night vision for them. They knew the score, too, and three of the mercs dove out of the elevator and scattered. One—Radison, I guess—dropped to the floor of the elevator and used the leader as cover.
“Pull me back inside, you coward.” the leader ordered through gritted teeth.
I ignored those two for a minute and took aim at one of the three mercs outside the elevator. I snapped off a couple of shots at a figure running in a crouch toward the nearest trees. The shots missed, but the guy hit the ground and began crawling.
In the excitement, I’d almost forgotten Sko. He caught my arm and drew me behind a nearby tree.
“They are enemies of yours, Captain?”
I felt my eyes widen in surprise. I almost asked Sko how he learned to speak galactic basic so quickly before the answer occurred to me. Somehow, my implant figured out his accent after recording the words Sko and I had exchanged over dinner. The technical details were far beyond me, but I knew it meant our languages shared a common root language. “Yes. They’re trying to kill me.”
“Mootners!” Sko spat the word, his voice filled with venom, and my implant had no ready translation for that word. “Stay here, Captain.”
And then Sko was just gone. He melted into the darkness quickly and completely, without making a sound. The last thing I saw was the glint of elevator light off the blade of the knife I gave him earlier.
A blaster shot plowed into the trees a few meters to my left, pulling my attention back to the firefight with the mercs. I saw Radison pull the leader into the elevator, prop him against the wall, then touch what looked like a robot’s arm against a spot on the wall. With a hiss, the elevator door closed, plunging the glade back into moon-bathed darkness.
“Hey, Fed, why don’t you just give up?” The voice came from the right of the elevator.—my left. “We’ve got you outnumbered three to one, plus the skipper is going for more men right now. You can’t hide in this little park for long.”
Little park? Boy, was that guy going to be in for a surprise when the lights came on again. I only half listened to what the man said. He was playing for time, probably hoping I’d answer and give away my position.
“It’ll go a lot easier on you if you give up. The skipper is already pissed off about his gunship and that shot to the leg won’t improve his mood any.” The guy had a warm, inviting voice—the kind you’d expect from your favorite uncle. Or a psycho killer. “But if you surrender, if you make it easy on us, the three of us will make sure the skipper goes easy on you.”
As carefully and quietly as possible, I backed deeper into the forest, keeping a tree directly in front of me. Just because I couldn’t see the other two mercs moving, didn’t mean they weren’t trying to sneak up on me.
“What do you say, Fed? Have we got a deal?”
To my right, a man screamed. The scream cut off abruptly, replaced by a soft, bubbling gurgle. The silence that followed was deeper than anything I’d experienced since getting off the elevator all those hours ago. It took a few seconds for me to realize the gentle buzz of wildlife was missing.
“Jones? Ellis? Did one of you get her?” The merc’s voice held a quavering note of uncertainty.
I knew I shouldn’t answer, but I couldn’t stop myself. “They didn’t get me, merc. But I got one of them.”
Blaster bolts lit up the clearing as the guy with the voice and the other surviving merc opened fire on my general location. I just sat with my back pressed against a large tree, my legs drawn up close to me. None of the shots came anywhere close, so they didn’t really have any idea where I was. Sko, on the other hand, now had glowing blaster trails leading him right to the two mercs.
A minute after the first scream, another one cut through the night. This time, something dark sprayed across the grass of the clearing. Then a merc staggered from the edge of the forest, his hands clasped around his throat. Blood jetted out between his fingers as the dying man staggered toward the elevator. The smooth-talking merc gave an inarticulate cry of horror at the gruesome sight and then, from the sounds he made, lost his last meal.
“Hey merc, why don’t you surrender to me?” My shout carried over the man’s retching. “I promise to go easy on you.”
Without another word, the last surviving merc broke from the trees and ran to the rock hiding the elevator. As he banged on the door with the butt of his blaster, I came into the clearing and walked toward him. Sko materialized at my side, the blood-covered knife held ready in his hand.
When the elevator failed to open, the panicked man turned to face us. His eyes widened when he saw Sko, then darted to the bloody knife.
“Hell no, you won’t get me like you got the others!”
As he raised his blaster, I shot him between the eyes.
I’ve killed people before, but always ship-to-ship. Everything is antiseptic, clean, silent, and far away. I hadn’t shot someone face-to-face until now. It felt different. It felt personal. Before I let my thoughts wander any further down that path, my training took over.
Holding up my blaster so Sko could see it, I said, “Get their blasters.”
Damned if Sko didn’t snap off a reasonable salute before rushing off to gather the blasters. I went to the man I shot, picked up his blaster, and noted he had a utility belt with extra power packs. I undid it then held it in the air.
“Sko? If they have a belt like this, get it, too.”
He didn’t say anything but carried two more belts and blasters when he returned.
“Mootners gun?”
I waved a hand at one of the blasters. “Sure, Sko, you can keep one of the guns.”
Sko’s eyes brightened and he grinned happily, but he also pointed toward the elevator. “No. Mootners gun?” I must have looked confused because he scratched his head and looked thoughtful. “Mootners come back?”
Comprehension finally dawned. Obviously, my implant’s translation was still a work in progress. “Oh. You asked if they’re gone not asking for a gun.”
Sko considered my question before nodding.
“They’re gone for now but they’ll be back.” I nodded as I said it, just to make sure he understood.
Sko held up one hand, his fingers splayed. With the other hand, he pointed to the dead mercs before he touched one finger after the other. After touching three fingers, he pointed to the disguised elevator door, then looked at me questioningly. I hate charades but his meaning seemed clear. Not wanting to risk confusion from our still-iffy verbal communication, he was using sign language to ask how many more mercs to expect.
I held up seven fingers. Raised an eighth finger, then a ninth, then a tenth, then followed that with a shrug. Sko looked grim and began gathering up as much of the roast boar as he could carry.
“You come with me. Go home.”
Without another word, he took me by the hand and led me away into the forest.
Sko pulled me through the forest at a steady jog, the near darkness not bothering him at all. Since I didn’t want to stay at the elevator and face a bunch of angry Fringers alone, I followed Sko willingly.
Five or six minutes later, Sko suddenly stopped and spun back to peer toward the elevator glade. I turned and looked, too, but couldn’t see anything but the dark shapes of trees.
His voice low, Sko said, “Mootners are back.”
I wondered how Sko could tell the Fringers were back. Then my companion spouted a long string of words so quickly and quietly I missed most of what he said. I caught the gist which, boiled down to its essence was, “I’m going to take a look. You stay here.”
Steeling myself, I nodded. Sko handed me the other two utility belts and the two blasters he carried. I was about to suggest he take one of the blasters when Sko held up the knife I’d given him.
“Can I take this?”
“Yes, Sko, of course.” As before, I nodded to make sure he understood my answer.
The man flashed his wide grin and then melted into the darkness. I held my breath and strained to hear him moving through the forest. Nothing. How did he do that? A petty part of my brain thought, “Yeah, he’s great in the woods, but he’d be dead meat in the cockpit of a starfighter.” Telling that part of my brain to shut up, I leaned against a tree and took stock of my situation.
I understood everything that happened to me up to the point I passed out in my starfighter. I obviously woke up in some kind of ship, but it was unlike any ship I’d ever seen.
Why build such a huge docking bay if other ships weren’t around to use it? Maybe the ships normally docked there were all out on missions, mining asteroids or something. But no, that many ships would have lit up the task force’s sensors as brightly as the Fringer fleet did.
Then again, I’d have expected a ship as large as this one would light up the sensors big time. The engines alone should have shined like a proverbial beacon. Was the ship running dark? If so, was it hiding from someone or something?
Why hadn’t some member of the crew been there to greet me when I woke up? The ship must require a crew numbering in the thousands, probably the tens of thousands. Why send six ancient robots out, instead? And, if the crew did send the robots, why did the robots ignore me? That one was easy—the robots were following some order or protocol that didn’t include greeting people. I could see the sense in that—the robots could get to work on the returning ships while the arriving personnel were met by the onboard crew.
Except the only person I’d met onboard wasn’t a crew member. He was… That gave me pause. What was Sko’s function on the ship? Park ranger? Passenger? I had no guess. And what was behind Sko’s overreaction to my rank? I’ve gotten a wide-eyed stare from fresh recruits a few times, but no one ever dropped to the ground and groveled at my feet until I met Sko. A ship this size had to have hundreds of officers, didn’t it?
And what the hell were mootners? A rival tribe, maybe?
I sighed. Lots of questions and no answers.
Shaking my head in confusion, I slid down the tree until my butt hit the ground. Maybe I drifted off, because the next thing I knew Sko was pulling me to my feet.
“They’re eating the boar. We’re safe for now.” Catching my hand again, Sko set off through the trees.
The brief rest reminded me of just how exhausted I was. According to my chrono, I’d only managed a couple of hours of sleep before the mercenaries showed up. The previous day’s excitement and my lack of sleep caught up with me all at once. Barely conscious, I stumbled along behind Sko. Within seconds, my ragged breathing alerted the man to my condition. Without breaking stride, Sko lifted me into his arms.
“Put me down, Sko. I can walk.” Even I heard my voice slurring from fatigue.
Sko positioned me so my head rested against his shoulder. “Rest, Captain. I’ve got you.”
Despite my best efforts, my eyes fluttered and closed. Maybe I’d rest for a few minutes. After that, Sko had better put me back on my own two feet. After…
I awoke to sunlight on my face. Sko continued marching along, seemingly unaffected by the burden he’d carried all night. Sometime during that journey, I’d wrapped my arms around Sko’s neck.
“Good morn.”
The man’s voice sounded as strong and his stride felt as long as they had the previous night. A part of me wanted to just stay there, safely wrapped in his arms. Damn, I thought I’d left the romantic part of me behind when I entered the naval academy. Summoning the mental effort, I shoved the wilting bit of me to the back of my mind.
Patting Sko on the back, I said, “Put me down, Sko. I’m a big girl and more than capable of walking on my own.”
Sko swung me around and carefully placed me on my feet. He assured himself I had my balance and then saluted. “Yes, Captain.”
Feeling surprisingly well rested and only slightly sore from the unaccustomed sleeping position, I returned Sko’s salute. Then I stretched out a few kinks and realized I was hungry. I opened the survival backpack and looked inside. “Are you hungry, Sko?”
He nodded, opened a pouch hanging at his side, and pulled out two pieces of some kind of dried meat. Handing the bigger piece to me, he bit into the other one.
I sniffed the meat. Like the boar, it smelled a lot better than survival rations. The boar hadn’t killed me or made me sick, so I decided this meat wouldn’t, either. I closed the backpack and bit into the meat. It was chewy and salty and laced with a smoky flavor. Not something I’d want for a steady diet, but definitely a worthwhile trail breakfast.
With a wave of my hand, I said, “Lead on, Sko.”
He nodded and led me along a trail which wound up a small slope. The place looked so natural, so much like parks I’d visited on shore leave, that I
tilted my head back and looked straight up. Staring at the green land far, far above me brought back the vertigo I felt yesterday. I snapped my gaze down and concentrated on Sko’s back until the feeling passed.
Twenty minutes later, we crested the hill and Sko drew me up next to him. He pointed to something off in the distance and said something, but I didn’t really hear him. My mouth dropped open as I stared across the vista before me. Forests and meadows and farmland stretched kilometer after kilometer before me. To my right and left, the land gradually curved up and up until it met directly overhead. I had suspected I was inside a big cylinder, but this view confirmed it. And, in the very far off distance, perhaps as far as fifty kilometers away, a huge wall blocked off one end of the cylinder. Spinning to look back the way we’d come, I saw another wall a good thirty kilometers off. Big was an entirely inadequate word for this ship. Enormous, gigantic, and even titanic struck me as insufficient, too.
God in heaven, what kind of ship had I found myself in?
From the moment I first looked up and saw ground far above me, I knew the ship was big. But I never guessed it was this big. I just whipped my head back and forth, looking at one end and then the other, trying to wrap my mind around a ship so large that spaceships could fly around inside of it.
My behavior must have confused Sko because he sounded worried when he spoke. “Captain? Is everything all right?”
With an effort, I stilled my head and smiled at Sko. “I’m fine Sko. It’s just…” I swept my arm to encompass the whole ship.
Sko’s confusion cleared and he nodded. “Of course. Hue mizty sheep.”
I looked at the farmland in the distance and spotted no concentrations of white, indicating sheep were raised there. So why the hell was Sko talking about misty sheep? Then my implant finally came through with a belated translation. Missed the ship. But how could I miss something I’d only seen for the first time yesterday?
And that’s when my still-exhausted mind finally made the connection, the one which put everything that had happened since I found myself on board this monstrous ship into a very different light. Who is the ultimate authority on board a ship? The captain. How had I introduced myself to Sko? As Captain Nancy Martin. Nice as it was to realize that connection, it actually raised more questions than it answered.
