Escape Velocity

by Jason M. Hough

  They froze at the sight of her. Gloria had her weapon up already, aimed right at them, but for that instant she’d forgotten it. She wanted to march forward and swing that pipe she’d left behind. Feel the connection against skull ring up through her arm.

  “This will have to do,” she said, and fired.

  But they were scattering already. She winged the middle one, literally punching a hole in the gliding flap that stretched from forearm to shin. The creature yelped, but was not slowed. The other two scrambled for doors on either side of the wide hall. The third, the one she’d wounded, turned and ran back for the airlock.

  Indecision gripped her. Who to shoot at? She settled on the one she’d already hit, not caring that it had its back to her. Not caring that they were unarmed. She fired three times, all misses.

  “Focus, dammit,” she rasped at herself.

  Then Xavi was beside her, matching her pose. His presence gave her the mental push she needed. Together they felled all three, the last one dying with its foot protruding from the door it was trying to escape through.

  “Don’t think about it,” Xavi said to her. “Just keep moving. Remember Dawson.”

  “Remember Dawson,” she repeated, for her own benefit. But she hadn’t been able to look at Dawson. She hadn’t given her that little bit of respect. Didn’t want to remember her old friend like that.

  No, that wasn’t true. It had been the gore. She’d never had the stomach for that sort of thing. Could never have been a surgeon or a killer, not of humans, anyway. Not on purpose.

  These three aliens, though, with their pinkish creamy blood splattered about the hall, she found that didn’t bother her. They were bastards, all of them. A parasite species whose designer viruses were merely extensions of the way they behaved themselves.

  Gloria turned and followed Xavi, her own blood as cold as ice water in her veins. She rounded the next corner and almost slammed into his back.

  “We’re here,” he whispered.

  Gloria moved to his side and took in the sight before her. A vast room, ceilinged in a white hard-shell structure supported by metal trusses and girders. A glorified tent, really, hardened against the airless environment outside. Since receiving that first distress call she’d envisioned a room like a forensics team’s setup after a bombing. Clean, with bits of unrecognizable shrapnel and remains laid out in a careful grid, tagged and numbered, photographers and sensory drones moving methodically from piece to piece. She expected to see an imploder core surrounded by a scaffold, teams of scientists swarming over it, probing at the atomic level to unravel its secrets.

  Her knees buckled at what she did see. She dropped to her knees, mouth agape.

  It was the Lonesome. Fully intact. Barely a scratch on it. One of its imploders still loaded in the launcher. The implications crashed down on her one after another, threatening to pummel her all the way to the floor.

  We have a way off this rock.

  We have a way home.

  We can still stop them from learning our secrets.

  Through all of this she failed to notice the Scipios in the room. They were tiny compared to the ship, which was nearly twice the size of Gloria’s diminutive Wildflower. It had been custom-built to test the new imploder technology, while the Wildflower had been only hastily retrofitted.

  “Beth,” Xavi said. “If you’re going to get here, do it quick.”

  “Did you find the remains of the ship?”

  “Yes,” Gloria found the voice to say. “Better still, it’s all in one piece. We need you guys here. It’s surrounded.”

  Surrounded wasn’t quite true. There were a lot of Scipios, but they seemed to be working on their analysis of the ship, just not in the invasive manner Gloria had pictured. Surrounded implied an organized defense, but once again they appeared to have caught the Scipios off guard. She saw no reason to explain any of this to Beth, though. Surrounded was wrong, but it would get the others here sooner.

  “Vanessa says to hold on to something,” Beth replied.

  Gloria glanced at Xavi, who looked at her in turn, with the same clueless expression she felt.

  The Scipios finally seemed to notice their presence. They erupted into chaos, chattering as they scrambled for exits or cover in equal number.

  Several came toward Xavi and Gloria’s position, and only belatedly did she realize they were armed. They held small devices in their hands that looked more like black exercise weights than weapons, but when the Scipios lifted them and Gloria saw the ports open and extend, their purpose was not in doubt.

  Xavi fired before they could, dancing back at the same time to take cover behind the corner. Gloria found her knees a second later and managed to stand. Something seared through the air beside her helmet. One breath of this air, she had time to think as she dove for cover.

  Then the ceiling of the great room exploded inward, punctured and carved by a white-hot beam of roiling energy.

  Air rushed from the giant chamber, sucked out into the vacuum beyond. Debris flew up into the air, as well as one unlucky Scipio who went flailing out into space.

  And then Vanessa dropped in. She crashed through the hole she’d carved and landed neatly in the center of the floor, taking a knee as she did so.

  The Scipios held on for dear life as their air rapidly vanished through the new entrance. The security team no longer aimed weapons at Xavi and Gloria. Instead they clawed at crates and floor tiles for purchase as the air around them rushed inward and up.

  Vanessa stood and flicked her beam weapon on again. She drew the beam across the room like an artist with a brush, leaving not paint in her wake but a blackened scorch line and neatly severed bodies.

  Another form entered through the roof. Alex Warthen, landing beside Vanessa. His suit, though similar to hers, lacked the weaponry. But he was a capable fighter, and as soon as his feet hit the ground he leapt again, powering into the midsection of a hapless Scipio who crumpled under the weight of the much bigger human.

  Beth Lee entered last, through a door at the back of the room, unseen in the chaos except by Gloria.

  “Beth. Let them deal with the Scipios,” Gloria said. “Meet me inside the ship.”

  Far across the room, through the literal fog of the virus-filled air and the figurative fog of battle, Gloria met Beth’s gaze. She saw the same wonder there she’d felt upon seeing the ship, saw the same realizations slide home in Beth’s eyes. “I…understand.”

  Gloria shifted all her attention on the prize. “Cover me, Xavi.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  And they were running. Hopping, more like, but used to the gravity now and moving fast. Xavi loosed calculated shots from his pistol, more to scare and pin than to kill. Gloria poured all her focus on the ship, and the open airlock halfway down its side.

  Xavi stopped at the end of the hallway, taking a knee and opening fire on another of the armed Scipios who was off to their left. Gloria didn’t bother to look. She raced forward. From the corner of her eye she saw Vanessa whirling, beam weapon dissecting the room.

  “Down!” Vanessa said.

  Gloria dropped, sliding like a baseball star as Vanessa’s beam tore through the space above her. She watched the line of white fire sweep overhead, and above that, the hole in the ceiling revealing the black of space beyond. Two more Scipios were carried up toward it, only to fall and collide with each other as the air in the room finally, fully evacuated.

  And something else, too. Gloria glimpsed it, if only for a second, but it was enough. Against that blackness beyond the ceiling, a pair of silvery orbs hurtled toward them from the darkness above.

  She didn’t have time to shout the warning. The two swarmers exploded through the fractured ceiling with far more violence than even Vanessa’s grand entrance achieved. They hit the floor in two corners like meteor strikes, the twin explosions showering the room with debris. Vanessa was thrown to the floor. The upright-standing Lonesome rocked on its landing legs. All around, the erect
ed structure of the hangar began to falter and collapse.

  And in those two corners, the huge swarmers drew themselves up to full height, each standing on three tentacle legs, the remaining three already stretching out, aiming weapons. They looked different from the ones she’d seen before. Like orbs of liquid metal, polished to a shine.

  “Get to the ship,” someone said. Gloria realized she’d said it, and repeated herself over and over.

  One of the swarmers focused on Vanessa, galloping toward her, closing the distance in a half-second.

  Gloria had only just managed to find her feet when Vanessa let loose with both arms. Two white rails of energy that filled the space between the immune and her attacker. Only the beams did not punch through. They reflected off harmlessly.

  Gloria swallowed. “Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” She took her own advice and bounded toward the Lonesome, eyeing the ladder that led up to the airlock. Fuck the ladder, she thought. In this gravity, she might be able to—

  A tentacle slammed into the ground in front of her. The whole floor erupted around its length, and Gloria, somehow, managed to use this failed attack to her advantage. Just the boost she needed. As the floor heaved, she leapt. Some instinct she did not know she had guided her muscles, propelling her more forward than up as the buckling floor gave her the lift she needed. Gloria soared through the air and slammed into the hull of the Lonesome just meters above the airlock door. She let herself slide down until her feet could swing into the chamber. She swung, landed on her back, not hard, and was up in an instant.

  She ignored the sounds of fighting outside. Her weapon would be useless against swarmers that could deflect those terrible beam weapons. No, she had only one task now, and Gloria meant to accomplish it. She let herself into the ship and began to climb.

  Above Carthage

  “CAPTURED?” SAM ASKED. Tania would have, but she’d been struck speechless by Tim’s news.

  His reply took a moment, mumbled, like someone talking when they didn’t want anyone to see their lips moving. “They came through the airlock in force, a compact swarmer and a dozen of their regular…security, I guess.”

  “Use your weapons.”

  “Waiting for the right moment,” he replied. “Swarmer is mirrored, the beam failed, sliced off a whole row of harnesses in here.”

  Sam didn’t ask about the mortar. No point, Tania realized. In that cramped little transport craft the mortar would be a suicide weapon.

  “Just hang on,” Tania said. “We’re coming.” She decided not to mention the reason she’d contacted him in the first place. That they needed him to come to the rescue. Tim, it seemed, had problems of his own.

  Sam barked, “The ship, now!” The woman did not wait for reply, debate, or even acknowledgment. It was the only option left. She turned and jetted down the length of the station. Tania fell in behind Vaughn, with Prumble somewhere just behind. They followed Sam’s path, which she took pains to keep close to the hull despite the explosions tearing the place to pieces behind them. Sam twisted and turned, dodging protruding antennae and other equipment, uncaring if those behind her were keeping up. They had to.

  Tania did fall behind, though. Her boots were intuitive in atmosphere but here, essentially falling through vacuum, she had to pulse them just so in order to dodge to one side or another. It required a different way of thinking, one that she had only limited experience with. Prumble fared no better, and soon the two of them were a hundred meters behind their more adept friends.

  “They’re bringing something into the cabin,” Tim said. He’d abandoned his mumbling.

  “What is it?” Tania asked.

  “I’m not sure. It looks like—”

  The connection ended.

  “Tim? Tim?!”

  No reply came. Ahead, Sam slowed to wait for her to catch up. Tania waved her on. “Get to him!”

  Sam flashed a thumbs-up and really took off now, Vaughn at her side. A few seconds later, Sam’s voice filled her ears. “I see the transport.”

  Tania held her breath, expecting some ominous addition, like “Or what’s left of it.” Instead Sam said, “It’s moving away.”

  “Where?”

  “How the hell do I know? Away. They’re pretty far already, still accelerating.”

  Tania asked, “Can we catch them?”

  “We’re not going to have a choice.” It was Prumble. His tone caused a chill to spike up Tania’s back. She glanced in his direction, then followed his gaze to the planetside portion of the space station, where they’d exited less than a minute ago.

  Roiling explosions began to cascade through the hull, tearing chunks of it away with fire and debris spilling out through the cracks.

  “Move away now!” the big man shouted.

  Tania followed him, pushing the thrusters in her boots to the maximum. She could see Sam and Vaughn darting away, too, and thankfully in the same direction. She adjusted her angle to bring her on a trajectory that would hopefully intersect theirs.

  Prumble’s words made sense then. “Head toward the transport,” Tania said, angling herself once more.

  “No way we’ll catch it,” Sam shot back.

  “No choice. The station itself isn’t going to exist in a moment. If we don’t chase Tim, we’ll be adrift out here. We have to hope at least that wherever they’re headed is someplace we can reach.” Before we run out of food, or water, or power.

  Tania could see the transport now and it was still under thrust. It was trying for another Elevator. She had an idea then. “Everyone, forget the transport. Pulse toward Carthage.”

  Toward the explosions.

  “Why?” Sam asked. “That’s not where they’re going.”

  “Orbital mechanics,” Tania said. “It’s counterintuitive, I know, but listen. We need to make our way down this Elevator, to the middle, then we cross. We might not beat them there, but we’ll have most of our fuel left.”

  She’d organized and even piloted, remotely, enough cargo missions between Darwin and Belém to know the drill. Moving between two space elevators was counterintuitive, at least at first. Every station was at geosynchronous orbit by definition, and due to the forces involved you never wanted to let go of an elevator cord unless you were near its center, where everything basically canceled out.

  They were near the outer end of this Elevator, and thus already being flung, albeit slowly, out into space. The transport had probably come out this far on some preprogrammed course that would see it heading off to visit the moons, or something, only to drop back toward home later. But now it was burning hard, trying to overcome that outward momentum. It was heading for the next space elevator over, if Tania’s guess was correct. The only other option was for them to keep burning and head for the planet, but that little transport did not look to be atmosphere rated.

  “We need to grab on to a climber and ride it in to the Elevator’s middle.”

  “If you say so,” Sam said. “Feels like we’re leaving Tim behind.”

  “We’re not,” she said. “Trust me.”

  “I was going to say I wasn’t too bothered by it,” Sam admitted.

  Tania found she couldn’t really blame her. In fact she could not explain her own sudden sense of loyalty to the young man. She may not desire his company in a romantic sense, and worried constantly about his apparent jealousy toward Skyler, but she was far from the point where she’d leave him to be a prisoner of this evil species.

  “There,” Prumble shouted. “Our ride!”

  Tania looked. They’d cleared the station, which burned behind them, but had not fully exploded. Not yet, anyway. Tania’s slim hope worked out. The space elevator’s thread heading toward the planet was crowded with climbers. Evacuees, most likely, all racing along toward Carthage. Prumble flew on ahead, pulsing his boots to find the right velocity. Tania more or less kept pace, and seconds later she saw Sam and Vaughn approaching from her left. They flew like they’d been born to it, and reached the nearest cl
imber a full ten seconds before Prumble did. Tania herself landed last, grabbing on to a little groove in the hull of the vehicle. She could feel the vibration of its motors as it pulled itself toward the planet, still accelerating. Glancing back, she saw the inferno of the station they’d departed, like a nascent star trying to ignite. Huge sections now pushed away from the elevator cord, no doubt a safety mechanism to keep it from being shredded in the carnage. They’d done some damage, all right. The question was, would Tim be punished for the crime?

  “Vaughn,” Sam said, “eyes forward. If this climber traverses the next station through a hole made to fit, we’re all going to be smeared on the outer hull.”

  “Absolutely right. I’m watching.”

  Sam crawled back toward Prumble and Tania. “Are you two okay?”

  “Never better,” Prumble replied.

  Tania offered a thumbs-up, which Sam acknowledged with a quick nod.

  “I wonder where they’re taking him,” Sam said to no one in particular. She gazed out into space, trying in vain to see the small transport Tim had been inside.

  Tania looked in that direction as well, but the tiny craft was already too far away to spot. “No way to know, of course, but I’m very worried. It’s bad enough they have him, but…God, I hope he can’t hear me right now…but I fear what he might tell them. About why we’re here, and where we’re from.”

  “And what that giant thing is strapped to his back,” Prumble added. “Not his goiter, of course. I mean the aura shard thing. I’m guessing these chunks of virus repellent are a bit of a shock to them.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Tania said. “If they take it from him…and open his suit.”

  “What if he’s bait?” Vaughn said from the other side of the climber.

  “How do you mean?” Sam asked.