The Chronicles of Clyde: Ghost Ship

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The Chronicles of Clyde: Ghost Ship Page 10

by F. E. Arliss


  He’d crawled down a narrow gap he’d found at the very end of one of the deepest shafts, just to get a respite from the constant baiting and torment. A wafting of cold air had told him there was some sort of vent or exterior fissure at the end of it. So far, he hadn’t found it. He had, however, managed to wedge himself into a very narrow crack that was seriously cramping his lung capacity.

  Resting for a few minutes, he tried to calm his breathing and heart rate. Using more oxygen than necessary wasn’t going to help the situation. Finally, heaving himself forward with a few well-placed shoves of his boot-clad feet, he managed to land one arm out into a larger space. Hot damn! There really was a fissure up ahead.

  As Digger wriggled further along the crevasse, he thanked the rock gods for his long ancestry with mines. He didn’t panic and he didn’t give up. Thus, a long line of Welsh forbearers had probably just saved his bacon. Trying to stand, he slid a hand along the rough wall searching for air movement. Finally, he found the crack where a slight breeze cooled his clammy forehead. The energy dome that surrounded the small asteroid kept the void of space from sucking the life out of anyone this far into the mine. Instead of just a small portion of the surface of the asteroid being under an energy dome, the entirety of this one was encompassed by the bubble of protection. It had been easier than trying to set up smaller shields on the sharply angled floating rock.

  Taking the tiny retractable titanium mallet from his jacket pocket, where it had been gouging the crap out of him moments before, he flicked it open and tapped gently along the edge of the fissure he’d discovered. It wasn’t wide, but it was long. It would take him several hours, but he’d be able to make it out. Then what? he asked himself. Frankly, he didn’t care much right now. He’d cross that barrier when he got to it. Crouching, he began a steady tap, tap, tap along the edge of the crack.

  It seemed like it had taken him forever to break through the narrow opening. Stepping into the man-height cave beyond its narrow mouth, he could see now why there hadn’t been more light. The cave faced the void of space on the far side of the asteroid. Thank the rock gods for that protective bubble of the dome or he’d be sucked straight out into the vastness beyond.

  Sitting down to rest, Digger considered his options. He didn’t have much water, and that was the key to survival. He’d have to find a way to slink back into the station and hijack some water skins. Grabbing a few protein bars wouldn’t come amiss either if he was going to figure out a long term plan off this rock. Sighing, he let his head droop onto his arms and rest.

  It seemed like only seconds before a slight scraping sound brought Digger’s head up in cautious surveillance. He didn’t think there was anyone trailing him, but you never knew. Plus, coming from a family of miners had given him a healthy respect for the ‘others’ that lurked in subterranean caverns. People could say what they want, but rock gods and other creatures did survive on these asteroids.

  Trying to extend his senses outward and rely on more than just his sight, Digger concentrated on his surroundings. There it was again. A whisper of a movement from his left. What the hell, he thought, I’ll go for it. “Hello? I’m Digger Cole. Who are you?” he said softly. “I’m running from the miners in the main shaft. They wish me harm. I apologize if I’ve disturbed your home.”

  A deep stillness settled over the cave. Digger waited a few minutes and added, “I’m from a long line of coal miners who have a healthy respect for the homes of the dark dwellers. Please accept my intrusion as a simple plea for help.”

  His mother had always scolded him as a child for listening to his uncles tell tales of creatures from the dark. He was certain that none of his uncles had found the tales the slightest bit fanciful. There was just something about the gravity in their tones that made it real. His mom probably sensed that gravity. It’s why the stories made her uncomfortable. No sane person wanted to believe in fairy tales.

  Finally, a long slow exhalation of air, brushed over Digger’s ears. “I am Voc, a mine troll. This rock is getting so damn small it’s hard to stay clear of those voracious machines they’ve brought in. When it was just people, then it wasn’t so bad. Now it’s far too fast. I will be found before the ore runs out,” stated the low, slightly lilting, guttural voice. “We always get killed when other species find us,” the voice continued mournfully. “We scare them, I suspect.”

  “I am sorry,” Digger returned gravely. “I hope to find a way off this asteroid. If I do, would you like to catch a ride to another place? Perhaps a larger mine, or world?”

  A long pause followed. “Perhaps. We will see,” rumbled the darkness to his left. “I assume you need some water and food?”

  “That would be helpful, yes,” Digger replied ruefully. “I was just going over the possibilities for entering the station.”

  “Don’t bother. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Wait here,” then a gust of air feathered across Digger’s face and the air stilled.

  Sure enough, a few minutes passed before he once again felt the faint stirrings of air. A harsh scraping sound jarred his eardrums as a metal container was shoved across the rocky floor towards him. “Water and something called Techblok, whatever that is,” rumbled Voc. “I only have one type of mineral left to eat on this asteroid. It has made me weak and malnourished,” the voice growled. “Though it still looks better than that Techblok.”

  Digger chuckled softly as he bit into the protein dense bar.

  “It belongs to a miner named Crosley. I don’t like him. He passes gas all the time. Some of these minerals are very volatile. He could blow the whole place up. I hope you don’t get a gas attack from that stuff too” added Voc.

  Digger had to bite his tongue in order to keep from laughing out loud. “I know Crosley. A very nasty piece of work,” Digger agreed, struggling to keep the humor out of his voice. “How long have you been here,” he asked Voc. “The scientists say the asteroids shattered some 10,000 years ago and were brought in on the tail of a comet. Is that true?”

  “More or less, I suppose. Time has little meaning to mine trolls. We live a very long time. It has been very lonely since the comet took us and broke us apart. I lost most of my family then,” a deep sigh rumbled across the darkness after this somber statement. “If you find a way to escape this place. I will go with you, small miner.”

  “My name is Digger, Voc. You can call me that,” Digger said gravely. “May I call you Voc?” he asked, remembering the manners his mother had drilled into him as a lad.

  “Yes. Yes. Fine,” grumbled the troll. “Go now and find us a way off this tiny bit of rock.”

  Digger finished half of the Teckblock protein bar and shoved the other half back down into the bottom of the metal lunchbox. Sipping some water, he scrubbed the back of his hand across his face and rose to his feet. “Wish me luck, Voc,” he said, then scrabbled through the narrow slit that faced the void.

  “Luck, small miner,” echoed faintly behind him.

  Digger was aware of the need to keep the closest of grips on the jagged rock of the asteroid. Once lost, the smallest loss of traction could send him whirling against the energy shield only to be fried to death in an instant. Not really a bad death, he acknowledged to himself. It was just that at this moment in time, he had no desire to die. He had a woman to try and find.

  The Guard and the mining company said she was dead. On the other hand, he’d found a dying Supervisor Ward at the makeshift hospital on ‘the dump’ just before they had arrested him for ‘aiding and abetting’ a criminal. Digger had no doubt that Supervisor Ward had been in his right mind, though dying, when he’d told him that Daer was alive. She’d been hauled back from the edge of the cargo ship she’d been loading and the ramp closed in her astonished face. The cargo ship had then circled the edge of the platform and made a fold-space jump right out of the sector. The Clyde and Daer, were alive.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Plan Unfolds

  Digger slowly struggled to the top of the platea
u. Going back down was going to be a bitch, he acknowledged. His palms were shredded and his shins, chest, and chin were not much better. He needed to find a pair of synth-gloves!

  After resting a few minutes he began the meticulous process of surveilling the lone outpost. Like most of the asteroid’s work sites, it had one building that housed both miners and admin offices. Having placed the cameras for the vid streams himself, he knew exactly where to breach the building.

  All security plans had a weakness. Even pros had to work with what they had. What he had was one place where he could cap an exposed exterior data-hub. That would allow him fifteen seconds to get to the next one near the most isolated entry, the chute where new ore samples were conveyed into the lab for quality testing.

  He’d have to hold his breath for forty-five seconds during the sterilization process, but he supposed it could be done. He wished for a moment that he had Daer’s lung capacity. That girl could french kiss! It was all those swimmer’s exercises she’d done to qualify for work on Gateca, the water world. After this, he’d do the damn exercises too!

  The next few minutes went just as planned. Well! That was a change, Digger almost laughed to himself. He liked it when a plan came together. Silently rolling off the conveyor belt, he reconnoitered from behind a large piece of laser drilling equipment that was getting updates in the lab. Four more minutes and the workers would leave for a meal break. He’d have thirty minutes to get what he needed and make contact with an outside source for aid.

  That was the problem. Who would aid him? He decided that he’d have to try the comms for the Clyde, the ship Daer had disappeared with. If she was still aboard, she was his best hope.

  Searching quickly for the food and water supplies he needed, he stuffed those into a small pack hanging beside the exterior door. Rummaging through the data files on the small pad at the comm station, Digger was able to access the latest information files and read the encrypted security reports for Gem 11. He’d be interested in the other asteroid too, but he didn’t have time now. The little time he had he needed to use to come up with a plan to get off this rock!

  Calling up the codes to unlock the emergency comms beacon, a small crystal comm unit hidden in a tiny, heavily fortified, titanium console on the wall, Digger tapped in the frequency for the Clyde.3. It was only seconds before a voice answered back, “Identify yourself. This is a closed channel. This vessel is now defunct.”

  “This is Digger Cole. I’m on Gem 11 at these coordinates. Please get this location to Daer Null. I will check back in at this location in 24 hours. Digger out,” he stated firmly, then closed and locked the console. He’d done what he could for now. Now he had to get back to Voc without being seen. Scooping up a pair of gloves lying by one of the lab stations, Digger exited with the same stealth he’d entered. No one was the wiser. Though one lab technician did wonder which of his thieving coworkers had taken his gloves.

  Sliding into the narrow slit on the far side of the asteroid, Digger whispered softly to the darkness, “I’ve made contact. Tomorrow we’ll see if there’s a way off this little berg. I’ve got a plan.” With that, he slid down the wall, propped his head on his chest and was promptly asleep.

  “Nighty night, little miner,” whispered out from the matt black of the back of the small cave.

  Chapter Twenty

  Deja Vu

  The Centurion dropped out of fold-space still cloaked. On its large flight deck, surrounded by Idolum fighters, stood a large open space with a line of laser lights illuminating the ‘do not approach’ area. It was the Clyde, sitting as though a ghost in the very middle of the bay.

  Daer Null, General Monsav, Princess Arc Exousia Quirke and her uncle, a shadowy Dermott Quirke, stood looking out at the small asteroid that housed the now ‘fugitive’ Digger Cole. The previously received comm message had specified 24 hours. They were here on time. Now they waited.

  Right on time, the comms pinged. “Digger Cole to the Clyde,” came the voice Daer had longed to hear.

  The Princess nodded to Daer, indicating that she should respond. “Digger, it’s Daer! Are you alright?” Daer practically swallowed the console trying to make sure her low voice was heard.

  “I’m fine Daer. Ready to get off this rock,” came Digger’s voice. She could hear the relief in it. “I’ve got a way in. We’ll use the same technique that the pirates used. It will seal our fate as the culprits though?” His voice raised an octave at the end, ensuring that the statement was actually a question about whether she was ok with that.

  “I think it’s too late to go back now,” Daer sighed into the comm. “I’m here with the Alliance. We’re ready to do what needs done to get you out.”

  A moment’s silence met this statement. Then Digger came back on, his voice clear and strong. “I’m fine with that. Supervisor Ward is dead. He was the only one that could clear us,” he added flatly. “This has been a thought-out plan, conveniently framing us as the cherry on top. We need to find out who is behind it and stop them.”

  Princess Arc Exousia Quirke grinned at Daer, “I can see why you like him. Feisty!” she added with a little growl of sexy teasing.

  Daer smiled back. “Just tell us what to do,” she said and turned her attention back to Digger’s instructions.

  An hour later, the plans were in place. It had been strangely easy. All the pirates had needed was someone with access to the secure server that streamed the shields status reports, and someone with access to engineering. A few small taps on the engineering tablet when no one was looking, and boom, the shield failed at the weakest point. The best plans were usually the simplest and this one had had only two moving parts.

  For now, Digger had simply taken the small tablet from the lab. Being one of the most secure places on the asteroid, the lab had access to everything. He’d slipped the tablet into his pack, ensuring that it had sufficient power for the important work of the next hour, and then retreated back the way he’d come before.

  Back in the interior of the small cave, he’d said to Voc, “It’s now or never old man. We either go or we stay. In ten minutes the shield over this point on the rock will fail. The Clyde will drop in to take us off this little berg, and we flee on the Alliance vessel. It’s up to you. Go or stay?”

  “I go!” stated Voc with certainty.

  “In that case, you’re going to have to let me grab hold of you. We can’t risk floating apart as we make the leap out towards the Clyde. Ok?” Digger asked gently. He knew from his uncles that mine trolls were notoriously shy.

  “Ok,” came the hesitant voice. “Just you, right? No one else?”

  “No one else will touch you,” Digger affirmed. “I’ll make sure of that.”

  “Ok,” Voc said, his voice stronger now. “We go.”

  Digger knelt on the hard surface of the cave. “Come touch my arm and I’ll pick you up. Please don’t take offense if I hold you in a way you feel uncomfortable with. It’s only temporary to keep you safe. Ok?”

  A small, very hard, rock-calloused hand touched his. Digger grasped it gently but firmly and pulled slowly towards himself. In the glow of the tablet he could see a shadowy form as it emerged from the darkness. Short. Very short. Maybe three feet tall. Skinny and naked, the small troll was a shadow of what his uncles had described.

  Acting as though he’d never guessed at the decimated state of his friend, Digger picked him up gently. Scooping the tablet up in the other hand, he tapped the comm. “We’re ready.”

  “Roger that. Clyde on standby. Proceed as planned,” came the slightly whirring voice.

  Digger tapped a few buttons on the tablet, then stuffed it urgently into his jacket. Gently readjusting Voc’s slight weight, he said, “You ready?”

  “Yep!” the little troll said calmly.

  Digger stepped out onto the ledge of the narrow opening and positioned two temporary air-breathers over each of their faces. He had to bend the mask into a much smaller shape to accommodate the dessicated state of the s
mall troll.

  Within seconds an enormous whumping sound rolled across the surface of the rock. Digger could see the dome shimmer, then collapse in a section several hundred meters from their location. The hole was large. It wasn’t sight that allowed him to know that the Clyde was near, it was the movement that buffered him and Voc back against the spiny rock. The vessel must be cloaked!

  Almost as though by magic a ramp yawned open in front of them. He had a leap of about two meters. Without hesitation he jumped for the ship. They were getting off this rock!

  He hit the ramp and rolled forward, frantically trying to protect the fragile figure in his arms. The ramp was already raising and its upward motion helped him continue to roll towards the interior of the cargo ship’s bay. Finally, sprawling to a halt, Digger felt the air of the bay being slowly restored.

  Sitting up, he pulled Voc’s mask from his shriveled visage. “How you doin’ old man?” he asked gently, concern lacing his voice.

 

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