Harper's Ten: Prequel to the Fractured Space Series

by J G Cressey

  Although he couldn’t be sure of the exact time since the suns went down, Cal knew for certain there was a good deal of night left. The snakes wouldn’t be leaving them in peace anytime soon—a fact supported by the numbers they were still encountering. None too keen to subject them all to the cramped confines of the services tunnel for a second time, Cal had instead taken a chance at moving through the corridors and observation rooms. Snakes had attacked, weapons had clashed with teeth and flesh, and a couple more chem-bombs had been ignited. Fortunately, unlike the first attack, the numbers of snakes had been manageable, and none of them were anywhere close to the size of the beasts that had killed Orisho or Pryce. But now, they were almost out of bombs, and fatigue throughout the entire group was taking its toll.

  Cal himself was doing his best to ignore his failing body—not an easy thing to achieve during the quieter moments when the heart calmed and the adrenaline eased. That big snake had treated him like a child might its least favorite toy. Every part of him throbbed in pain, and he suspected that he had a number of broken ribs. He turned back to check on Becker; the sergeant looked as tired and as battered as he felt, but she was forcing her posture straight, and her eyes remained alert. Understandably, Christie had worsened, her blank stare and her need to be practically carried having fully returned. Still appearing strong, Couter had taken up the mantle as the girl’s minder although Becker never strayed far from her side.

  Durron lurked nearby. Like Pryce, he seemed to recognize the advantages of sticking together, but also like Pryce, he was about as helpful as a sulking teenager. The scavenger hadn’t once asked about the whereabouts of his comrade and seemed completely indifferent to his fate. Of the group, Ebner looked worst of all and appeared ready to drop at any minute. Fortunately, Campbell was doing her best to help him both physically and mentally.

  “Okay, we’re in,” Franco said as he moved toward the big, sliding doors.

  Cal stepped forward, and together, he and Franco heaved the doors open just enough to take a cautious peek inside.

  “Shit.” Franco moved back from the door but didn’t elaborate on his assessment.

  Cal took up position and had a careful look through the gap. The corporal’s one-word reaction summed up the situation pretty well. The stairwell lacked half of its stairs, and those that could be seen had been crumpled beyond recognition. Also, there was a good deal of moisture dripping. Cal supposed it must be rainwater as he awkwardly twisted his neck to look up. Wherever the breach was, it was shrouded in darkness. All he could see was more crumpled stairway. The beast that had pushed its way up through the shaft must have been seriously big and strong as hell. Igniting a spare glow-tube, he dropped it into the darkness and watched as the circle of blue light briefly illuminated multiple levels of wreckage on its way down. Eventually, the little tube landed, but rather than hitting hard metal, it thumped onto a bed of pale, writhing flesh. Cal bit back a curse, the sight of the distant snake pit instantly upgrading Franco’s assessment to an altogether harsher word.

  He backed away from the doors, letting Becker take a look as he turned to meet the questioning eyes. He wished he had better news. “The stairs are severely damaged. It might be possible to get down, but it won’t be easy.”

  “I’ll take difficult over dead,” Poots said, glancing at the doors.

  Cal rubbed at his chin. “I’m afraid there’s also a pit of snakes at the bottom that looks deeper than your average swimming pool.”

  Franco let out a quick, humorless laugh. “So a nice soft landing if we fall. Does our luck know no bounds!” The corporal shook his head and after a moment looked back at Cal. “So on to the next one?”

  “No,” Cal replied. “Time’s not on our side. And I doubt the other stairwells are going to prove any more promising.”

  “So what are you proposing, Lieutenant?” Campbell asked.

  Cal looked back at the doors and considered for a moment. “We go up.”

  “Up,” Campbell repeated incredulously. “Just how damaged are these stairs? We’re not exactly in the best shape right now.”

  “It won’t be an easy climb,” Cal admitted, “but the wreckage above looks far less severe than below. And the damage at the bottom seems to be preventing the smaller snakes from ascending.”

  “And the big snakes?” Campbell asked. Her tone made it clear that she had little admiration for this plan.

  Not used to having to explain every decision, Cal again did his best to keep his cool. “The big snakes will be a risk no matter what we do or where we go. If we go up, we can attempt an airborne rescue.”

  “Sounds like our best chance.” Surprisingly, this came from Durron. His tone was far from friendly, but it held no sarcasm.

  “No one asked your opinion, scavenger,” Becker said, turning from the doors to shoot the man an icy stare. It had the desired effect and froze his mouth shut. “We’re wasting time,” Becker continued as she turned sharply on Campbell. “How many of us have to die trying to protect you before you put your fears and judgments aside and start trusting? You may have a problem with the lieutenant’s past decisions, but we’re deep in the shit now. Our team’s become one of the most respected in the fleet, and it’s mostly down to him. There’s a good reason he’s in charge, and you need to start accepting that. Either you can keep endangering us all by analyzing and arguing every decision he makes or you can start trusting and acting fast.”

  Looking a little startled, Campbell silently stared at her for a moment. Taking a deep breath, the older woman’s eyes finally softened a little and she nodded. “I apologize,” she said somewhat reluctantly. She looked at Cal and then toward the dark gap in the doorway. “Okay, Lieutenant, up it is… So who goes first?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Cal had been right; the climb wasn’t easy. This time, he’d decided to lead the way. If they were going to be attacked, it would likely come from above, and it felt only right that he should bear the brunt. Having lost his spear to the big snake in the corridor, he’d been grateful for Becker’s insistence that he arm himself with hers as she helped Campbell aid Ebner and Poots with the tricky ascent. Fortunately, everyone was faring surprisingly well with the climb. Poots was managing better than most could with two good legs, and Ebner was a more competent climber than his frail frame would suggest. Christie had proven more of a problem, but in the end, they’d decided to simply strap her to Couter’s back. Despite his youth, the private was proving quite the powerhouse, and even carrying the weight of two didn’t slow him a great deal. Unwilling to go last, Durron had insisted on climbing ahead of Franco, who guarded the rear. Cal had been close to physically forcing the scavenger to reconsider his demand, but in the end, time pressures had prevented any costly arguments.

  Rain was still falling into the stairwell. The cool moisture felt good against Cal’s face as he peered up into the looming darkness. As yet, he could see no sign of moonlight penetrating a breach, but the raindrops seemed sparse and heavy as if they’d accumulated and dripped off an edge rather than fallen directly into the shaft. Although he didn’t really need it, he was tempted to light up another glow-tube. In the gloom of the wreckage, every handhold he reached for felt like a game of chance—one he may well lose if he unwittingly grabbed a handful of scaly flesh instead of metal. But so far, their climb had been blessedly free of snakes. He allowed himself the thought that these beasts were somehow afraid of heights, but it seemed unlikely. Up to now, they appeared to be afraid of very little, pain included.

  As they slowly continued to ascend, the deep, resonating sound of the rescue ship came and went. Cal guessed the pilot was performing sweeps of the area. Assuming they’d flown here directly after entering the atmosphere, it stood to reason that their tech should still be in good working order. But it was raining now—more moisture, more potential exposure to Ebner’s disrupting particles. How long would the rescue ship remain in the air? Cal pushed the question aside; he could have no possible influence
over its outcome, and mulling over it would do little good. So far, he hadn’t heard any evidence of a landing, but considering the local wildlife, this was hardly surprising. Occasionally, he would hear the ship’s rail blasters hammering out rounds, which he guessed were attempts to ward off or lure the large snakes away from the base. He just hoped to God they were having success.

  After what seemed a mammoth climb, they eventually arrived at the point Cal had been aiming for: the entrance to a huge strut that ran horizontally high above the central dome, linking to the central communications tower. Each of the stairwells were linked in this way, the struts acting like a set of spokes on a huge, horizontal wheel. Their purpose was for structural integrity, but each had an accessible passageway within, which offered plenty of room to comfortably walk along. From what could be seen under the light of the glow-tubes, the passageway still appeared intact. Cal had considered continuing upward and trying to exit onto the roof of the stairwell tower, but the thought had been a brief one. The stairs above were still mangled, suggesting that the huge creature that had caused the damage had continued up and was perhaps still lingering. It was a suspicion rather than a certainty—one they could easily confirm by continuing their climb. But Cal was finding his curiosity on the matter unsurprisingly muted. He felt good about leaving the huge beast in peace.

  Bracing himself at the mouth of the strut’s passageway, Cal reached down to pull Ebner up. The older man was breathing heavily and had a bad case of wobbly climber’s leg.

  Becker came up close behind. “We there already, boss?” she asked, a touch of her usual playful tone having returned. “Ebner here was only just getting into his stride.”

  The older man managed a small smile. “To be honest, I think I’m game for a bit of horizontal climbing,” he said, looking at the new passageway with obvious relief.

  “With any luck, we won’t have to go far,” Cal replied, squeezing his glow-tube to its brightest setting and directing it toward their new path. “How well do you know the structure of this base?”

  “I know it inside and out,” Ebner replied, sounding a little affronted that the question had to be asked. “What do you need to know?”

  “Overhead access panels to the outside world.” Cal nodded down the passageway. “If we can get out onto the top of this link strut, it might make a good spot for an airborne rescue. It’ll be far clumsier than meeting the ship on the ground, but if our climb so far is anything to go by, we may have no snakes to deal with.”

  Ebner smiled at him, his eyes regaining a tiny spark of enthusiasm. “Well, for once, luck is on our side. I’ve never been to them myself, but I know for certain that there’s an exterior hatch halfway along every link structure.” He glanced at the passageway. “No more than a hundred feet.”

  Cal was encouraged by the man’s conviction. He nodded appreciatively and looked down to confirm that everyone was ready. Not only were they ready but they appeared eager to keep moving, perhaps an underlying paranoia that the rescuers would decide to leave without them. Gripping Becker’s spear tight, Cal took a breath then ventured forth into the new darkness.

  They only made it a third of the way along the linking structure before they were faced with yet more destruction. A twisted tear in the floor had created a gap wide enough that it reached both walls. Cal cautiously crawled over the torn metal toward its edge. Peering through to the outside world, he took the opportunity to breathe in a lungful of fresh air. It was still raining, and he could see the vast roof of the base’s main dome a good fifty feet below him, its silvery surface glimmering in the wet. Keeping his weight as evenly distributed as possible, Cal shifted himself back toward Becker. The rest of the group was further back still, huddled within the last intact portion of the passageway.

  “Well, there’s not much to see,” he said to Becker as he detached the safety cord from his armor and began to loop it around his hand and elbow. “It’s a fair old drop to the main dome. Too far to lower ourselves onto with cord. I still think our best hope is to climb onto the roof of this strut.”

  “If Ebner’s right, it can’t be far to the hatch,” Becker said.

  Cal nodded. “Not far if only we could all miraculously float over this gap.” The two of them held out their glow-tubes and once again studied the gap in question. Crawling through it and trying to scale the outside of the structure was out of the question. Some of them might make it, but that wasn’t good enough.

  “Would have been nice and convenient if the ceiling had been torn open instead,” Becker pointed out. “Could have just climbed out to the rescue ship right here.”

  Cal looked up and surveyed the damage above them. The metal had definitely been stressed, but there wasn’t even a hole large enough to stick a hand through let alone an entire person. “That would be too much to ask, Sergeant.”

  “Seems so. I suppose a flying carpet might be too big an ask as well,” Becker said then sucked at her teeth as she stared back down at the gap. “Just a bit too far to jump, especially with this unstable floor.”

  “A bit too far for you maybe but way too far for most of our group. We do have this cord though,” Cal said as he finished looping it up. “You ever play out in the woods when you were a kid?”

  Becker smirked. “I grew up on Galdon 3: a flat, dusty, desert colony on a back world. Closest thing we had to a tree was a rickety old water tower.”

  “I didn’t have much better…except when I was on Mars.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  Cal shrugged. “I met some kids on Exon a few years back who’d rigged up a swing rope in the surrounding forest. Let me tell you, all tech entertainment goes out of the window when you have a good length of rope and a decent tree.” Cal pointed to the ceiling over the center of the gap. “I could climb up there and traverse along that exposed buttress. If I can tie one end of this cord around it, we could swing over one at a time.”

  Becker shot him an enchanting smile and tilted her head. “How sweet. I get to live the childhood I always wanted…if but for a moment.”

  Cal weighed the cord in his hand and surveyed the buttress. “When we get back to the starship, Sergeant, remind me I need to have words with you about your sarcasm.”

  “Will do, boss. I’ll write a reminder on my ass right now.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Cal decided that tying a knot while clinging upside down to a buttress that was stretched over a sixty-foot drop wasn’t an easy job. Nor indeed was it a quick one. And to top it off a creaking sound had started just as he finished securing the cord. The creaking was intermittent at first then gradually increased in volume and tempo. It was a noise with which they were all becoming terribly familiar—the sound of something large slowly moving across metal, stressing and disrupting its structure with its great weight and power. A noise that instantly set their hearts pounding and their adrenaline pumping. Trying not to let the implications of the sound distract him, Cal continued to focus on the job at hand. Making sure that his grip was good, he double checked his knot then tossed the other end of the cord down to Becker, who was waiting with an eagerly reaching hand at the edge of the passageway’s torn-up floor. Twisting his neck as far as he could, Cal had a quick glance through the gap beneath him. It was a long drop, and retaining his grip while practically hanging upside down wasn’t easy. It didn’t help that rain dribbling in through the fractures in the ceiling was making the metal dangerously slick. Carefully, he continued his horizontal climb until he had cleared the gap. He felt like a bug trying to defy gravity—except he lacked the confidence that he’d bounce harmlessly if he fell. Even with his armor on, such a fall would likely be fatal.

  The creaking continued to grow louder. He tried to decipher whether the threat was approaching from inside or out, but he couldn’t be sure. Trying to ignore the ominous sound, he instead listened for the rescue craft. The roar of its engines sounded distant, but it was a fast ship, and he knew it could be hovering over them within sec
onds. They just needed to get outside. Then, the ship’s firepower would hopefully deal with the threat. Just a matter of timing, he told himself as he twisted around to assess the floor beneath him. Satisfied that the metal grating at least looked solid, he dropped down and was happy to find it wasn’t simply an illusion. He unslung his spear from his back and shone his glow-tube down the dark passageway, holding it up like a cave explorer clasping a lantern, desperately hoping not to meet a hungry bear—or a big-ass snake. Taking a steady breath and a few steps forward, he further peeled back the darkness and, with relief, found the passageway promisingly intact and empty.

  Turning back to the gap, he saw that Becker already had Ebner ready to swing across. The older man had one foot in a loop at the bottom of the cord and was gripping it with both hands in front of his chest, knuckles as white as his face.

  The structure shuddered for a moment then gradually settled. It seemed that whatever was closing in on them was becoming more enthused. Taking that as his cue to hurry, Ebner dropped forward and let the cord carry him in a smooth, inverted arc over the gap. Having attached his glow-tube to his shoulder, Cal thrust out a hand and grasped the older man’s skinny arm. Hauling him close, he made sure that Ebner had his footing before sending the cord back over to Becker. Campbell came next, seeming about as keen on the activity as Ebner. Then, Poots crossed. She was fast, confident, and altogether more graceful despite her injury.

  The creaking became a deep groan—that familiar change in tone and intensity that acted as a proximity gauge. Cal swung the cord back then quickly glanced over his shoulder. Still nothing to be seen. Must be outside, he decided as he again listened for the rescue ship. It still sounded some distance away, its rail blasters firing. Whatever beast was holding their attention was proving an unwelcome diversion from the snake that was closing in on them.

  Cal turned back to those on the other side of the gap just in time to see Durron aggressively barging his way forward and barking something as he made a desperate grab at the cord. In the blink of an eye, Becker thrust her knuckles into his throat, simultaneously knocking him to the floor and instantly silencing him. For what seemed like the hundredth time, Cal felt despair at the man’s foolishness. When it came to words, the scavenger could be quite shrewd, but when action was required, he became nothing short of an imbecile who seemed keenly unwilling to learn from his experiences.