by Pamela Fryer
She jerked to an abrupt halt as she passed into the cloaking device’s field. A sharp piece of twisted shrapnel jutted from the hull. She’d nearly sliced her own head off. This must be the first ship, the pod the Tetra had crashed to Earth in. She hadn’t seen it before because they’d come from the other side of Jager’s ship earlier. Brooke ran around the side and came to Jager’s larger vessel.
“Door open!” She leapt onto the extending ramp.
Sara hovered in Medical Chamber One, her hair floating around her relaxed face.
Now that she was inside, Brooke wasn’t sure what had possessed her to come here. She turned in a circle, not knowing what to do first. Jager was outside dying, and she felt utterly helpless. “What do I do?” she said aloud. Panic began creeping through her resolve. She didn’t know how to save the man she loved.
I love him.
“Oh my God,” she said to herself. “Oh-my-God. Oh-my-God.”
“Yes?”
Brooke froze. The tiny hairs all over her body bristled. She looked over to Jager’s navigator, still slumped over in his chair.
“Do you require assistance?”
“Who’s there?”
“I am OMaGS, the Onboard Monitoring and Guidance System. You called upon me.”
“What the...” She glanced around. There was a small, round globe in the phosphorescent ceiling, similar to a security camera dome in a department store.
“Were you not aware of me? I have detected your presence on board twice before, Brooke Weaver.”
She forced herself to relax. “I was not aware of you.” But she was beginning to love Jager’s advanced technology. “What are you?”
“I am OMaGS, the Onboard Monitoring—”
“I got that much.” The machine cut off at her interruption, just like a person would. “Are you an artificial intelligence system?”
“I am much more than that.” The claim carried a hint of indignation. The voice came from all around her, with no apparent single-location source.
“You speak perfect English.”
“I am fluent in more than three thousand and sixty-nine languages, with familiarity of more than forty-two thousand, two hundred and ninety-six dialects.” Now it sounded proud.
“Jager has been struck with the pulse from a Xinotype weapon. I don’t know what to do.”
“Oh.” OMaGS’ tone dropped. “It is a tragedy for which I am deeply regretful. He and I served together for more than six years and completed many missions. I was quite fond of him.”
“He’s not dead!” Brooke shouted.
“No humanoid can survive a blast from a Xinotype. The heart is stopped instantly.”
“I started his heart again, but he’s weak and requires medical attention.”
“With what device are you capable of restarting a human heart? I have not heard of this.”
“It’s called CPR.”
“See-pee-arre,” OMaGS enunciated slowly. “I will search my databases.”
“OMaGS!”
“Yes?”
“Focus! How do I help Jager?”
“He must be treated in the medical station. Once I assess his physical state, I will administer the appropriate steps to repair his vital organs.”
But how? Jager was too heavy for her to carry and she was afraid to urge him to walk.
Then something sparked in her memory. “OMaGS, is there a weapon on this ship equipped with a levitation beam?”
The doors to the armory slid open. “Yes, the urggchkkmarrok. Translation: the Areon Four-One-Five.”
“Which one is that?”
A red laser beam emitted from the circular globe on the ceiling and landed on a large, futuristic-looking rifle. Like the Xinotype, it was smooth white, like plastic. It possessed what looked like a tiny radar screen in the sight, and the barrel end flared in an odd egg shape, similar to the very first muskets.
Brooke snatched it off the wall. There was nothing visible holding it, but it came away with a break in pressure.
“Instruct me on its setting and usage,” she commanded the AI. “Quickly.”
“Power on with the switch under the flare.”
She figured he meant the one under the barrel. “This one?”
“Forgive me. I require point three seconds to translate. The command settings are on the left side.”
Brooke turned it sideways and looked at the small display panel. The laser beam shot from the ceiling, pointing out what looked like the two main switches. “Slide this one down.”
Brooke did. The control panel glowed green.
“Further training is required to use the device at its full capacity, but you will be able to perform basic operations with my instructions. Like many of your Earth weapons, red means danger. By switching both levers up, the control panel will turn red and the trigger will activate basic electric pulse fire. When the left lever is down and the panel is green, the trigger will activate the levitation beam.”
“Fabulous. Door open!” Her heart soared. She could get him here, get him into the medical chamber, and save his life. “Make ready Medical Chamber Two,” she shouted as she leapt out of the craft.
She ran through the forest, aware but unconcerned with the grinding pain in her ankle.
Jager and the rogue agent lay where she’d left them. For all she knew, the other man was dead. She didn’t stop to check.
The fresh scent of the forest filled her nostrils. Not a trace of the foul odor of the Tetra. That was good, and it was bad. Mostly good. She knew the creature had to be destroyed, but she couldn’t worry about that right now.
Jager was all that mattered.
She aimed the weapon and took a deep breath. “God, I hope this works.” She would never forgive herself if she fried him. It seemed a lifetime ago she’d pointed her Taser at him with the intention of taking him down. Her heart ached with the memory.
She pressed the trigger button. The weapon hummed as a vibrant blue beam fell on Jager. It moved over his prone length as if reading him. She waited for the back-and-forth scan to complete, and then lifted the aim.
Jager rose off the forest floor. A dusting of forest litter hung in the beam’s grip below his body. She took a step, and the beam pushed him forward with only the slightest delay, as though she were pushing a heavy weight on wheels.
She was facing the wrong way. She angled the weapon around, noting the heavy feel of it as though there were a physical connection with Jager’s weight. Slowly he rotated back in the direction of the downed ships.
As she propelled him forward, it seemed his levitated body picked up momentum, and soon it became easy. She hurried through the forest, picking up speed in the clear areas. Her ankle hurt like the devil, but it wasn’t broken. She would live, and she had to see that Jager did too.
She adjusted her finger on the trigger button and discovered the beam remained on. She didn’t need to hold it down.
Remembering the jutting shrapnel, Brooke made a wide arc toward Jager’s ship, entering the cloaked field at a safer angle. The levitation beam was a powerful force, she discovered. When she tried to stop, she had to plant her feet and was dragged a short distance across the pine-carpeted floor.
The door to the ship stood open as she’d left it.
“OMaGS, how do I get him into the medical chamber?”
“I will assist you, Brooke Weaver.” A beam of blue light like the levitation beam from the weapon emitted from the ceiling bulb. Jager was shifted upright and eased backward into the cylinder.
“I will assess Jager’s injuries.” The bluish static of the medical chamber came on with a hum.
“Just save him, OMaGS, please.”
“Jager’s heart rate is weak but steady. During your absence, I retrieved information on Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation from my database. A very crude and unreliable method, but one that has saved many of your human lives since it was first developed six Earth decades ago.”
“Worked this time,” she said as
she watched Jager in the medical chamber. Thank God it worked this time.
“I am grateful. Jager and I have not finished our game of Gie-Noktuyy.” The voice sounded light, elated.
“OMaGS, was that an attempt at humor?”
“I am very fond of Jager Tolon,” OMaGS finished softly.
Tears stung her eyes. “I am very fond of him too.”
A shrill chime sounded. OMaGS spoke in an urgent voice at exactly the same moment the foul odor touched her nostrils.
“Warning. There is a hostile alien life-form on board.”
Chapter Sixteen
She’d left the door open when she’d gone back into the forest. It was still open.
“OMaGS, shut the door.”
Brooke looked down at the weapon in her hands. The small panel still glowed green. Her trembling fingers were numb and clumsy as she fumbled with the levers. The warning chime continued, grating on her nerves.
“Is it the Tetra?”
“Affirmative.”
“Shut that alarm off!”
The craft went silent. The tiny glowing eye on the panel turned red.
“Where is it?”
“My readings are erratic. The Tetra’s heart is protected by a solid exoskeletal carapace that confuses my sensors. Location unknown.”
“Not good, OMaGS.” Her hands began to shake. She turned in a circle, looking through the strewn wreckage.
“I apologize, Brooke Weaver.”
The thing had to be enormous by now. Why can’t I see it?
“OMaGS, do you possess a defensive mechanism of any kind?”
“I am capable of operating all guns located on the outer hull simultaneously. At this time, main cannons are down. Four aft lasers and two—”
“That doesn’t help me in here.”
“I apologize, Brooke Weaver.”
“Stop apologizing! I need your assistance. How can you help me in here? Think!” She backed toward the medical chambers. She had to protect Jager and Sara.
“Thinking is what I do best,” OMaGS stated.
A clatter sounded near the command chair. The dead navigator’s body shifted. For a terrifying moment, all her childhood nightmares came to life.
The fat, glistening black body of the Tetra slid out from behind the navigator’s console. In the bright, almost painfully glaring light of the ship, the thing was a hundred times uglier than she imagined possible.
The Tetra leapt. Brooke fumbled with the gun.
Gravity went off.
Brooke felt as if she were on the downward pitch of the biggest rollercoaster in the world. She floated into the air, flailing as she tried to twist to keep the Tetra in her line of sight.
Momentum from its leap carried the beast sailing into the air, but then it drifted away, seven legs and one odd-looking stump kicking madly. The tip of its severed limb was a mottled texture of pink and brown. It’s growing back, Brooke thought. Just like Jager said it would. Gross.
Brooke pushed off the far wall with her uninjured foot, sending herself spinning back in the right direction.
The Tetra soared past, inches over her head. It had done the same thing. Just her luck, she was up against a super-smart space bug with experience in antigravity. Maneuvering herself in antigravity was harder than she’d ever thought it would be. Even if she weren’t afraid to fire inside the ship, she couldn’t bring the weapon around to aim it at the Tetra.
The Tetra’s ugly proboscis shot out, passing so close to her face she got an up-close view of the tiny serrated edges lining its rounded opening, like shark’s teeth. Its foul breath nearly knocked her unconscious.
She swung the gun and smashed the Tetra in its extended snout, earning an angry squeal. Bad choice. She’d wrecked her Xinotype in the substation that way. She was exhausted and not thinking clearly. This gun seemed just as fragile, and the last thing she needed was to end up in here with the Tetra without a weapon. It was all over for her, Jager, and Sara—and Earth—if she couldn’t kill it.
The Tetra sucked in its proboscis and let out a roar. The sound bounced off the walls at a deafening level and made Brooke’s skin crawl.
“OMaGS, do these doors lock on command?”
“Affirmative, Brooke Weaver.”
“Lock up this ship. If I don’t beat the Tetra, under no circumstances are you to let it off this ship. Burn the inside if you have to.”
“I am incapable of incinerating the cabin of this ship. However, I can remove all oxygen. Eventually the Tetra will die.”
“How long can it go without air?”
“Twelve minutes. More than twice the length of time a humanoid can, Brooke Weaver.”
OMaGS might have no choice. Brooke hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Can you keep me, Jager, and Sara alive in the medical chambers if you do, OMaGS?”
The Tetra let out a shriek, as if their conversation angered it.
“Negative, but there are two non-atmospheric suits on board that can sustain life for up to six hours.”
Only two. OMaGS was a bearer of bad news, just like Jager. Brooke knew what he would do if he were in her place. He was a soldier, prepared to die in the line of battle. She had to be just as courageous, if it came down to it.
Only she wasn’t ready to make that leap just yet. Besides, how could she get Jager and Sara into the suits with that thing breathing down her neck?
It seemed like an eternity passed before she came to another solid wall where she could push herself off. Unfortunately, it was directly above the body of the navigator. He appeared dried out, like the body of Emily Randall had when Brooke had found her. The Tetra had consumed the remaining bodily fluids.
“Ugh.” Her stomach rolled.
She craned toward the Tetra. It looked like it was glaring at her.
“On this planet, carrion eaters are the lowest form of vermin.” Brooke found her footing and shoved off at precisely the same time the Tetra did.
“Oh no!” She realized her mistake an instant too late; she should have waited until she’d seen the direction the Tetra took. They were soaring directly at each other!
OMaGS turned the gravity back on. Brooke and the Tetra crashed to the floor. Immediately gravity went off and they became weightless once again.
“Good call, OMaGS!”
“I am happy to be of service.” OMaGS sounded pleased with himself.
The Tetra issued another bone-shivering screech. Brooke shoved upward from the floor and leveled the gun. She fired a single pulse, hitting the Tetra dead-on.
OMaGS turned gravity on again. Brooke landed upright this time, crouched and ready to fire again if necessary.
The Tetra hit the floor in a heap. She held her breath, waiting for the demon creature to rise again.
“OMaGS, I need to sever its head.”
“The settings on the Areon Four-One-Five are complicated. Use the Xinotype.” The laser beam pointed it out. It was identical to the ones she and Jager had been carrying. It must be the .38 of the solar system.
Brooke snatched it off the wall. “Tell me how to set it.”
The Tetra twitched and began to stir. Sixty seconds, my ass!
“Press the red button twice. Green once,” OMaGS recited. Brooke’s hands shook as she pressed the buttons in quick succession.
“Come-on-come-on-come-on!”
“Slide the device lever to full strength. Up!” OMaGS’ tone matched the urgency racing through her veins.
The Tetra shifted and brought its good foreleg beneath its body. It pushed up off the floor.
“Aim behind the skull crown and sever the head between the carapace plates!”
The Tetra extended its proboscis toward her and let out a hiss. The serrated beak sliced through her pant leg.
She jumped back, aimed the Xinotype and squeezed the trigger. The Tetra’s flesh began to smoke. It was awful, burning her eyes and making her olfactory senses curl up and die.
The Tetra let out a gurgling shriek as
its body went stiff. The head fell forward and plopped on the floor. Yellow goo oozed out of its severed neck.
Brooke staggered backward and fell on her rear, sweating and shaking. Her heart beat like drum strikes against her breast.
“Well done,” OMaGS said with enthusiasm. “You are the first Earth human ever to kill a Tetra queen.”
She looked up at Jager, peacefully recovering in the medical chamber. Her heart grew a little calmer at the sight of him safe and healing.
“Believe it or not,” she said with a shaking voice, “it’s my second of the day.”
* * * * *
Weary to the bone, Brooke trudged back out into the forest to retrieve the rogue agent. She fully expected to find him dead, but when she discovered his heart still beating, she wasn’t entirely surprised. Spacemen were a tenacious bunch.
She used the levitation beam to carry him back to the ship. Spiking pain stabbed through her ankle with each step. It had begun to swell and would no longer bend correctly. She had to pick up her leg, swing it forward, and let it plop back down.
The door to the ship opened as she arrived. OMaGS must have detected her. She ascended the ramp with her last ounce of strength. Inside, Jager sat at a command chair next to the one where his navigator used to be. The Tetra had been removed. Thank goodness.
Brooke wanted to yell at him for being up, but she didn’t have the strength. She dropped the Areon, letting the rogue agent drift to the floor.
She was so happy to see Jager awake and healthy, she rushed over to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and rained kisses over his face. She settled to her knees on the floor beside his chair and hugged him, delighted by the way he squeezed back almost too tightly.
The enormity of the day washed over her and became too much to bear, but she didn’t want to stop kissing him. The tears finally broke free and she fought against the sobs between kisses.
Jager’s lips grew more desperate. She hugged him tighter, reveling in the strength of his embrace. She finally gave up, leaning her head on his shoulder to cry. He rubbed his hands over her back in a tender caress.
