To Well And Back (The Deep Dark Well)

by Doug Dandridge

  Pandora came bursting from the opening like a superhero from the cartoons she had watched as a child despite her father’s admonitions. She twisted in the air and aimed toward the Marines, who were frantically trying to pull their rifles to their shoulders. The woman from the past fired both forearm lasers at the same time, one to the helmet of each marine. One screamed as the beam ate through his visor, then fell to the floor as control of his suit was removed with his life. The other brought his rifle into the path of the beam. The weapon fell apart in his hands, burned through the center.

  Willing a smart rocket to lock on Pandora fired the weapon from her shoulder launcher. The tiny rocket sped toward the Marine, catching him in the chest and blowing its shape charge propelled penetrator through the armor. The Marine fell back, screaming his working lung out, and Pandi gave him a mercy shot through his helmet with her laser.

  She hit the door switch at the same time as she sent an override code through the locking mechanism. The klaxons were sounding a different note and lights were flashing in the corridor, and the woman realized she did not have much time to do what needed doing. The door slid open and she was looking onto the bridge of the ship. The shocked crew looked around at the door and started to go for their sidearms.

  Pandora didn’t have time to talk, no time to negotiate a surrender with people who might want to give up. There were bound to be some who wouldn’t surrender no matter what, sure that their hateful God would want them to kill the infidel. They might even pretend to surrender to get a shot in when she didn’t expect it. She didn’t like the idea of killing all these people, who only had their uniforms and mag pistols for protection. None of them were equipped for ground or in ship combat, after all. They were in the wrong place, at the wrong time, impeding the wrong person. But as none were wearing battle armor there was another way. All of this went through the woman’s mind as she slipped into a trance state which speeded her responses and made the world slow down around her.

  Her suit prioritized the targets as she moved her arms into position, taking into account proximity, speed of reactions, and type of weapons. All had the same type, and none were much of a threat, so the red pips first highlighted those on the far periphery of her view. She moved fast, hoping she could get them all before someone thought to send a lockdown code to the system.

  Pandi swept her arms inward, the sonic stunners in her suit playing over the outside figures and moving in. They were projecting at full power, enough to knock any normal person out for a half hour. The two crew members on the edge crumpled while their eyes rolled up in their heads, followed by the next two, until Pandi had knocked all of the bridge crew to the floor. She walked forward, playing the beams over each of the recumbent figures, increasing their out time. That done, she turned back to the door and played for a moment with the locking system and shut it closed tight, then spot welded the hatch to the frame along its length.

  Pandora raised her helmet, and in a moment wished that she didn’t. The bridge smelled of bowels that had loosened when the stunner took all conscious control of skeletal muscles from the targets. She sniffed, decided she would get used to it, and got to work, moving a crewman out of his seat before the tactical board and linking in, making the control system hers. Then she started looking for more targets, calculating the possibilities in her mind. A flash of something on the screen caught her eye, and she zoomed the viewer on the planet to see that someone was firing on someone else down there. She zoomed in further, and her heart caught in her throat as she saw the big man shaped war machine move swiftly across the screen from cover to cover.

  What in the Hell is the big lug up to? she thought, hesitating for a moment. He has to be coming for me, but he doesn’t know where I am. He might have guessed, but he can’t possibly know. There were other figures moving with him, what had to be Suryans. As she watched in horror one of the figures was vaporized in a cloud of steam and ash, then another, and she realized that a ship was firing down on them. Well, there’s something I can do about that, she thought, working the board. But first things first, or the whole thing will be for nothing.

  She targeted the missiles first, while she still had control of those in the tubes, and before the men in the missile rooms overrode her controls. She punched in the controls and released, then went to the beam weapons and fired at the primary targets, then locked on to the secondaries.

  * * *

  Gerasi thought he felt vibrations through his bed just before the alarm sounded. What in the Hells is going on? he thought, sitting up in his bed and forcing as much wakefulness as possible into his brain. He was a fleet commander in a combat situation, so there was always a chance that something would happen, a possibility he had to be ready for. But he was also on the edge of exhaustion, and a quick check of his internal clock showed that he had only gotten an hour’s sleep before whatever was happening had happened.

  “What’s going on?” he called on his com link to the bridge.

  “Something hit the port amidships Alpha Four emergency airlock,” came back the voice of the Tactical Officer. “They…”

  The bed shook once again, not hard, just enough to show that something had hit the massive vessel. “We have a blowout on airlock Alpha Four,” called another voice over the link.

  “This is the Admiral speaking,” said Gerasi, getting out of bed and reaching into the closet for an overall. “What’s the situation down there?”

  “Something blasted through the outer hatch of airlock Alpha Four. Bulkheads have sealed off the breach.”

  “Casualties?”

  “We had three people in the area who are not reporting in,” said the voice from damage control. “No life sign readings, presumed lost.”

  “Crap,” said Gerasi, trying to think of what might have hit a single airlock. A meteor. No, because there was a couple second time gap between the first hatch going and the second. So it was some kind of weapon. But what would only damage one airlock, and not attack the ship in general.

  “Any reports from the rest of the fleet about attacks?”

  “No, sir,” came back the voice of the com tech. “Nothing.”

  Gerasi finished zipping up his jumpsuit and pulled on his boots, sealing them, then headed toward the cabin door. “I’ll be at the airlock in two. I want to know what happened by the time I get there.” It couldn’t have been that Latham woman, could it? he thought, jogging for the lift. Could it? She was blown out of space. Or was she?

  He was left to his thoughts as he rode the lift to the level where the airlock in question was located. Then it was a short jog down the corridor, to a crossway, then to the outer passageway.

  “We have a situation at airlock Beta Six,” came the call from the Security Chief.

  “What kind of damned situation?” asked the Admiral, stopping in front of a bulkhead that was sealing off the breached area. Unfortunately, this lock was an emergency hatch, and didn’t have an attached ready room, so the breach evacuated the entire corridor. The damage control people were having to use the emergency bulkheads as a lock so they could get people in to seal the damaged airlock. That and people approaching from outside.

  “A spacer’s life sign went off the link,” said the Security Chief. “We have people on the way.”

  “Whoever chose this hatch chose well, sir” said a CPO, walking up to the Admiral.

  “So you think it was an attack?”

  “That’s what my chief tech thinks,” said the Chief. “It blew a meter wide hole through the outer hatch, then launched another missile to take out the inner door.”

  “Spacer First Jamison is dead in Ready Room Beta Six,” called in the Security Chief.

  “Cause of death?” asked the Admiral, feeling his stomach turn.

  “Laser to the head,” said the Security Chief. “He was dead before he knew it.”

  “Ship wide alert,” yelled the Admiral into the link. “All hands are to arm and armor. This is a repel boarders situation, and all crew
are to shoot anyone wearing unfamiliar combat armor on sight.”

  “We have an attack on the bridge,” came the panicked voice of the Security Chief. “Someone has taken out the Marine guards. They have entered the bridge.”

  “Status of the bridge crew?”

  “All life signs still strong, but we are unable to reach any of them on internal or external link.”

  She knocked them out with a stunner, thought the Admiral, slamming the palm of his hand against the bulkhead, at the same time feeling some relief that his bridge crew was still alive. “Organize a response team and take back that bridge,” yelled the Admiral into the link. The Admiral switched com links and contacted the CIC. “I want all controls rerouted to CIC,” he told the XO. “Now, if not sooner.”

  “We may have to physically cut the bridge circuits,” said that officer.

  “Then do it,” yelled Gerasi, slamming his palm on the bulkhead again.

  Gerasi paced for a moment, wondering if he should head to the bridge, then deciding against it. He would just be in the way of the troops.

  “The base force is calling for fire support,” said the secondary Liaison Officer from the CIC. “They are receiving fire from space, and a ground force is attacking them.”

  “The Captain of the Stingray is asking why we are firing on his ship,” said the XO over another circuit. “I have apprised him of the situation.”

  “I want that woman dead,” yelled Gerasi, smacking a fist into an open hand. “No. Belay that order. I want her alive, so I can get the satisfaction of watching her die in extreme pain. I want her living body to know what her soul will be facing.”

  Gerasi turned and stalked toward the nearest lift. “I’m coming up to the bridge, and I want her taken by the time I get there. Do you hear?”

  Nervous acknowledgements came back over the link, and none of them were satisfying to the officer. Only action will calm me now, he thought, imagining the hated woman back on that table as she was vivisected to death. He smiled at the thought and stepped into the lift.

  * * *

  Another stream of rounds cracked by, and the Suryan Spacers and Marines hugged the ground. At first the attack looked to be a complete success. Now, with the Nation forces shifting their emphasis toward the hill, things were bogging down.

  Down on the landing field the remaining tank and robots were still hammering the Marines, who were hiding in the rubble of the base and returning fire. A hyper-v missed the tank by centimeters, and a return particle beam made sure the launcher would not get another shot. The tank continued to fire, lasers, particle beams and kinetic shots, moving toward the ruins turned fortifications. Large chunks and small pieces of rubble flew into the air, and the combat robots took shots at the fleeing infantry.

  A red beam reached down from the sky and struck the tank, then struck again multiple times, until the vehicle was a smoking wreck. More beams came down and left the robots as scrap. And then the beams started to come down on the hillside and vaporize the Suryans they found.

  “We’re getting killed here, Watcher,” yelled Fleet Admiral Nagara Krishnamurta, firing his particle beam rifle at the enemy. “Do something.”

  “Something is being done,” came the voice of the superman over the link, followed by thick red beams that struck out at the enemy. “Just hold on a few moments more.”

  A laser struck a man ten meters from the Admiral, instantly turning the body into steam and ash and scorching the ground, and the Admiral cringed as he waited for the beam to come his way. Instead it died, and yells and screams erupted from the enemy lines as red particle beams reached down and struck them in their cover.

  At the same time the three meter armored suit of Watcher came striding into the open, its particle beam cannon firing a shot a second. The angry red beam tore through vegetation and blasted rocks apart as he took the enemy under fire. Some of the enemy tried to retreat, giving Watcher targets he couldn’t miss, and before long a dozen armored suits lay on the ground as smoking debris, their wearers burned beyond recognition.

  Within seconds the Marines were in retreat, and the Suryans kept up constant pressure on them, while Watcher ran to an outcropping. The outcropping split apart, revealing a door which was also sliding open.

  “Everyone,” yelled Watcher over the command circuit. “In here. Fast.”

  The Admiral jumped to his feet, almost falling over from fatigue before another officer steadied him and helped him run to the sloping corridor that led from the door. They ran down what seemed like a hundred meters, Watcher in the lead, until they came to a large chamber filled with machinery and robots.

  “Welcome to the Hemisphere Defensive Command Center,” said Watcher, waving a hand at the chamber, then walking on toward another door that was opening ahead.

  * * *

  Watcher strode into the room, backed against the wall into a suit cubbie, and ordered his armor to open. Walking out of the armor he strode toward the control chair, linking to the computer as he stepped up and into the seat.

  “Lt. Commander Mandrake,” he yelled as he looked over the tactical systems.

  “Sir,” said the armored woman, running into the room.

  Watcher nodded to her and looked at the ships above the planet on the tactical holo. What in the hell, he thought, seeing that one of the ships was firing on the rest. Pandora? That was the only explanation he could think of outside of civil war or mutiny, both of which were unlikely. “Tell me what you see there, Commander?”

  “It looks like their flagship is firing on some of the other vessels. But they aren’t firing back. And there is also some fire from space coming down on the enemy on the ground. What the hell?”

  “Just what I was asking myself,” said Watcher, powering up the weapons systems. “I want you to pay attention to what I am doing, because you will be controlling these weapons when I leave here.”

  “Where will you be going?” asked the officer, confusion in her voice. “And I heard there is a wormhole room down here. Why didn’t you just jump in here to start?”

  “There are no direct links to the Donut here,” said Watcher, his fingers moving across the control board slow enough for the normal human to follow, locking on the weapons. “It was cut off from the network. Those holes go somewhere, but no place I could access from the station. I might be able to open another hole from here, if some of the graviton systems have survived, and I can generate enough energy. Both big ifs.”

  “So why is the one ship firing on the others?”

  “I think my consort is aboard that ship, and has taken over the bridge. At least for now.”

  “A formidable woman,” said the young lady, who was a formidable warrior herself.

  “You have no idea,” said Watcher, hitting a control. The screen zoomed in on one of the enemy ships and something struck the hull at the same time. Something that burned through the hull and left a glowing hole behind.

  “Here is how you control the weapons and defensive systems of this base,” said Watcher, sending the detailed information through the link into her own implant. “When I leave you will want to bring in some more people and set them to work. The enemy is likely to send fighters on a strike with nukes or AM weapons, or even land more infantry, though I doubt they will get in. But you will want more people watching the screens. Understood?”

  “Yes,” said the woman, her face blanking for a moment as she summoned the people she thought she needed.

  Watcher fired one more blast, hit another ship, then slid from the seat to let her in. “Unfortunately, this station only had peripheral control of a pair of ship killers, and both of them are dead, as far as I can tell. These weapons were really made to take out missiles and landing shuttles, but should still do enough damage to make the enemy concentrate on them while I do what I have to do.”

  “And what do you have to do?” asked the woman as more people flooded into the room and went to different stations.

  “Rescue that formidable woman
,” said Watcher with a smile. “Before she takes on more than she can handle.”

  With that he walked from the room, leaving the smiling woman in control of the weapons.

  * * *

  “We’re taking fire from the planet,” called out the Assistant Tactical Officer from the CIC. “Or I should say some of the other ships are. So far they’re ignoring us.”

  “From what?” asked Gerasi, looking at the Marine team that was getting ready to storm the bridge.

  “From some ground based weapons that must be of ancient construction,” said the officer. “Nothing too powerful, yet.”

  “Have the fleet return fire,” yelled the Admiral, looking in on his link and seeing that it was already being done. But I sure feel better telling them to do so, he thought, switching gears.

  “How are we coming on cutting off her control of the ship?”

  “We have cut the missile control feeds,” came the voice of damage control. “And the stern beam weapons. It will be another five minutes before we can take out the forward beam weapons.”

  “And she’s firing them as fast as she can,” came back the voice of the XO. “She has already crippled Stingray. Walrus is requesting permission to target our forward batteries.”

  “No, dammit,” yelled the Admiral. “This is my flagship, and I won’t have the rest of the fleet taking shots at her.”

  “She’s taking apart Narwal while we speak, sir,” said the XO. “And those planet based beam weapons are hammering Narwal as well.”

  “We’re ready, sir,” said the Captain of Marines who was leading the assault team.

  “Then go, dammit,” yelled Gerasi. “We don’t have time to waste. Get in there.”

  The Marine Captain nodded and shouted something into his link, and a loud blast sounded from up the corridor.

  “Now we got you,” whispered the Admiral under his breath. “Now there’s no place to run.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Never do a wrong thing to make a friend or to keep one. Robert E. Lee