D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology

by Michael Zummo

  Osuto turned to the newcomer. “Ujaku, why don’t you stay here. It will give me a chance to explain. . . everything.”

  * * * * *

  “Steady girl,” Toriko said, closely monitoring the ship’s strained systems as they plotted towards the ship graveyard.

  Mencari knew that if they didn’t get the small miracle of a find, they could be in real trouble. In theory, the Coalition would be able to send parts. However, nothing had been heard from them in a while. Their recent silence made that scenario something he didn’t want to count on.

  Mencari wondered if it was a mistake to bring Toriko here? He looked over at Spark. The cyber-dog was helping by attentively monitoring various ship’s displays. Mencari had to marvel at the young girl’s talent. Even if it was a bit inconsistent. It didn’t matter. She was here now, and involved. He could only hope for the best.

  Mencari reviewed the steps Osuto had drilled Toriko on a few days earlier, showing her how to manifest her innate abilities, including how to form a protective shield.

  “All set?” he said.

  “This is totally weird.” She closed her eyes and focused. In moments a golden aura radiated around her.

  “Good,” Mencari said.

  Spark’s bark cheered her on. Toriko laughed, pleased, and nodded to her metallic companion. “Watch the systems for Mama, okay?”

  With a playful pawing in the air, Spark dashed back to his seat.

  “Just stay focused and all will be fine,” Mencari said, opening the airlock. When Toriko gave a thumbs-up sign, he gently nudged her into space.

  She flailed a bit at first, but soon got the hang of it. “Hey, it’s not that hard.”

  “Just go easy. And stay focused,” he warned.

  They took things slow, floating together into open space. Even Mencari fought the feeling of vertigo while they moved from ship to ship, entering and looking for suitable replacement parts in the airless, abandoned vessels. Now and then, Toriko found useful items and placed them in a pouch on her side, which was soon bulging.

  When they passed a field of debris, she stopped. “Oh my gosh!”

  Mencari saw her sudden exuberance turn to panic when she generated far more motive force than intended, sending herself careening toward a large, dirt-covered ship. Her body stopped with a thud and stuck against the hard, unforgiving hull.

  He flew over and helped her peel herself off. Her face shone red as she rubbed her temples. “Yech. Now I know how a bug on a windshield feels.”

  He chuckled. “Flying in space takes some getting used to. I still have to think about what I’m doing.”

  She looked back at the ship she’d just collided with. “Hey! Do you know what this is? A Mudulo X350 Ultra LE, that’s what!”

  Mencari shrugged. “That means . . . what?"

  “It was a revolutionary ship design! Brilliant, but abandoned, like, fifty years ago. I don’t think what they replaced it with was all that.”

  She floated around the hull, looking into every crevice. “I can’t believe they junked this. It looks in great shape!”

  The doors opened only halfway before the last of the ship’s power bled away. Undeterred, she squeezed through and activated some portable lights fastened to her wrist guard. “Yep, it’s in amazing condition! Just out of power. I’m pretty sure I can fix it up.”

  She thought a moment. “Towing it could be the problem. After Ujaku’s ship, another long tow might finish off Osuto’s for sure. But if we took it slow, I think we could get it back to base. We need to avoid using the electro-towing system.”

  Mencari didn’t find the idea of being stuck in space appealing, but nodded. “We’ll need physical cabling, then. There should be plenty around here.”

  They found more than they needed among the abandoned ships and other junk. With the two ships hobbled together by cables, they slowly headed back.

  * * * * *

  “Come on! Come on! It won’t take long!”

  It was hard even for Seigie to decline Toriko’s excited invitation to see what days of dedication and labor had brought about. At first, Seigie had been put off by Toriko’s too-eager demeanor and her desire to inspect each and every crystal embedded in her skin. She’d done her best to avoid the young woman, either by staying at work in her lab or by continuing her solitary program of self-training in the mines. Yet at Osuto’s quiet command, she’d left her crystal lab and now strode on clomping, mineral-weighted feet to join the rest.

  Amid gasps and ohhhs from the others, Mencari said, “Is that—?”

  Toriko nodded gleefully, then motioned to Ujaku’s ship docked beside it. “I’ve figured the nanites out too. Well, mostly. Ujaku’s ship is not completely repaired yet, but it’s more than space worthy again.”

  “Nice,” Seigie muttered. “Show over?”

  “No!” Toriko squealed. “We need a maiden voyage. And you have to come, Seigie. I just know you’ll love the old ship. I mean, considering your age and all. Really smooth suspension system. They don’t make ’em like this anymore, for sure!”

  The others hid grins. Seigie rolled her eyes. “I nearly have my crystal cultures set up, I’d rather—”

  Osuto overruled her. “I need to stay here to keep an eye on things, Seigie. I’m still trying to re-establish contact with the Coalition. The rest of you should go.”

  Seigie glared at him.

  “Please?” Toriko said. “Just a short spin!”

  With a sigh, Seigie muttered, “Fine. The faster we do this, the sooner we get back.”

  Her feet stomped begrudgingly toward her mobile prison, and she heaved herself over the small gap between the dock and ship, pointedly moving to the seats farthest away from the front. She plopped down, grumbling, “Are we going, or what?”

  Mencari noticed Osuto’s playful smile, which turned serious when he touched Mencari lightly on the arm and whispered, “Help Seigie understand that, at some point soon, you may need to rely on one another.”

  “I appreciate that you always give me the easy jobs,” Mencari muttered back, grinning. He took the copilot spot next to Toriko. Spark bounded in, too, and snapped into the special harness Toriko had modeled after his docking bed.

  The airlock closed, as Toriko reviewed the controls. A high-pitched whine filled the air as the engines charged. Holographic consoles projected before her as each system came online. She squirmed in her seat, her eyes twinkling.

  In a sudden burst that would’ve startled Mencari right out of his seat had he not been strapped in, she threw her fist high above her and shouted, “Let’s go!”

  “Yes, let’s do,” Seigie said. “I’ve got plenty to work on, and I don’t have time for long joy rides.”

  Mencari looked over at her, and gently said, “Seigie, Toriko worked hard—”

  “And I’m working hard on other things.” Seigie snorted. “This is why I liked my dark, quiet cave. No interruptions. Everything was nice and efficient. Structured.”

  Mencari saw Toriko’s head tilted their way as Seigie’s rant continued. “Dealing with people? Well, that isn’t my forte. Some are easier to deal with than others. And that’s without prolonged, forced exposure.”

  Toriko kept her eyes on the navigation console, checking the displays. “Seigie, I know you’re only doing this as a favor to Osuto. I’ll make sure it won’t take long.” She added in a cheerful tone, “So, where should we go?”

  “Second star to the right, and on ‘til morning!” Mencari said.

  Seigie lurched against her harness. “Wait! How long is this ride going to be?”

  He grinned. “It’s just an old sailor’s expression, Seigie.” Then, to Toriko, “How long is this ride going to be?”

  “I say we head toward Rigel 8,” she said. “We can test out the tunnel travel and get there fast. This baby’ll fly through a tunnel!”

  Mencari’s head twisted toward her with curiosity. “Tunnel travel?”

  “It was used before spaceways were around. Um . .
. Like opening up your personal spaceway. Sort of.”

  “Sounds like space folding—something the Coalition ships can do—” He stopped in mid-thought. “And, this tunnel travel works?”

  “My simulations ran with a ninety percent or better success rate!”

  “And that’s good?”

  “‘Good enough to try,’ like my dad used to say! Ship: prepare for tunnel travel!”

  On command, a tone rang out. The ship computer’s cheerful voice chirped back: “Affirmative, Captain Purg.”

  The voice sounded suspiciously like Toriko’s.

  Mencari glanced back to see Seigie’s face scrunch in disapproval. He just grinned and said, “Captain Purg?”

  Her face flushed. She pressed a button, and her nose wrinkled as a stale odor blew about the cabin. “That smell’s just from the old elements left in the ship. It should still work just fine.”

  Mencari held his nose. “What are the old elements for?”

  “Er . . . something about buffering the impact of tunnel travel on our bodies.”

  “Meaning?”

  “So we don’t go ‘squish.’”

  He shuddered. “I’d rather not go squish.”

  “First stage complete,” the ship’s computer said. “Beginning tunnel travel preparation, Phase 2.”

  Security panels emerged, sectioning off the craft.

  Seigie was agitated. “Hey, what’s that?”

  “Travel seals. Safety devices used to ensure hull integrity in the event of a compromise. A standard—fifty years ago.”

  Mencari rapped on the one directly behind him. “Pretty solid. It’s hard to believe a ship like this was abandoned.”

  Toriko shrugged. “I heard there was some problem with tunnel travel.”

  Mencari and Seigie blurted simultaneously, “What kind of problem?”

  Toriko laughed nervously. “Something about breaking up at high speeds. That was the other ten percent of my simulations. I’m sure it was overstated, though—”

  “What?!” The cry echoed throughout the ship as the final panel sealed shut, isolating Seigie in the rear section.

  “Sorry, Seigie,” Toriko called out loudly. “I’m sure the rear is as safe as the front section. At least, in most of the simulations it was.”

  The computer blurted happily, “Tunnel drive rrrrready!”

  Mencari grabbed his seat as the ship lurched forward, and both he and Toriko watched in awe at the distortion forming ahead of them, resembling water swirling down a drain.

  As they entered the tunnel, gravity shifted, lifting the passengers as much as their restraints allowed from their seats. Seigie pounded on the security panel.

  “Oh, forgot to activate the comm,” Toriko said, reaching for the control panel.

  Seigie’s voice boomed in the cabin, “I didn’t live this long to die in a tin can!”

  “Readings say everything’s fine Seigie. Just strap back in and hang on!”

  The next moments passed uneventfully. Mencari began to relax.

  “Despite the age of the systems,” Toriko said, “everything still works well—just like I knew it would.”

  Mencari’s thoughts of impending doom were displaced. Instead, he was mesmerized by the strange patterns swirling in the tunnel walls.

  A spike in the tunnel monitoring system drew Toriko’s attention back to the monitors. “Odd,” she muttered. “Maybe just a glitch in the telemetry data?”

  Over the next minutes, the anomaly appeared with greater frequency, manifesting as waves. “Hey,” she said, “there’s a pattern. What—?”

  Her necklace began to flash as Spark looked up, alert.

  “What vibration?” Toriko said.

  Mencari looked over, thinking the question was for him. “What?”

  “Spark said—”

  The cabin began to quiver. Toriko looked back to the display of streaming data. “The pattern’s more definite now.”

  “Computer,” Toriko said, “report source of disturbance!”

  The system responded, “Analysis: Manifold particles from normal space are disrupting the tunnel integrity field.”

  The shaking became a series of jolts. Mencari gripped his seat again.

  Through the communicator, Seigie blurted, “Remind me to thank Osuto for the opportunity to take such a lovely trip!”

  Toriko said, “Computer, compensate for wake variable.”

  “Unable to comply. Randomness and variability of the interference cannot be isolated and compensated for.”

  The ship’s hull groaned as the jarring became violent shaking. Spark looked up at Toriko and yelped. Toriko’s fingers pawed the air, but her holographic interface could no longer detect her selections accurately. The same was true for the built-in consoles.

  “Computer,” she called out, “deactivate the—”

  The ship lurched, then careened to one side, throwing the ship out of the tunnel and back into normal space. As the craft spun wildly, the sounds of popping bolts and fracturing metal resonated in the cabin. The air began to roar as the environmental system malfunctioned.

  “Computer!” Toriko screamed.

  The scrambled system only chirped discordantly.

  “Computer!”

  “D’mok shields!” Mencari yelled.

  A golden glow formed around him, but Toriko ignored his command, concentrating on the controls before her. She looked back to Spark, and her necklace flashed as she worked through him to hack into the ship’s computer. An instant later, she got the computer back online.

  “Warning! Hull compromised,” were its first words. Then, “Alert: Stabilizers unavailable.”

  What little color was left on Toriko’s face drained and her eyes narrowed as she continued hacking the system.

  Loud thuds banged across the hull as she manually triggered stabilizing thrusters, gradually stopping the spinning of the ship. As the vessel slowed, other systems began to return. The roar of the environmental system faded as the ship came to a rest.

  “Thank Eudora,” Toriko said, slumping in her seat, exhausted, “we’re lucky nothing was in our way when we flew out of the tunnel!”

  Spark looked at the security panel behind them, and pawed at Toriko.

  She looked down. “I’m okay, boy.”

  Her necklace flashed as he sent her a message. She sat up, startled. “Oh no!”

  Mencari blurted, “What is it?”

  Reaching back, she felt the barrier separating them from Seigie. “Computer, open security panels!”

  “Unable to comply. Hull integrity compromised.”

  Toriko unfastened herself and ran to the panel separating them from Seigie. “Seigie! Seigie, you okay?”

  She began to bang on it while Spark reconnected himself into the ship’s systems. Mencari fought to unbuckle his harness, which had jammed during the jarring.

  “Seigie! Answer me!” Toriko continued to pound the panel, then changing her attack to open-faced slaps. “Oh, Eudora! No!”

  A projection appeared, showing a small object rapidly moving away from the ship. Again Toriko’s necklace began to flash. She turned, looking at the display. “Good boy, Spark…” she said, sprinting back to her seat.

  “Seigie’s module. It broke off! With everything going haywire, her weight must’ve been too much to bear!”

  Mencari swiveled his head to the porthole, trying to see, while she reactivated the navigation console. The ship burst forward as she strapped in. “Spark’s reporting her module appears intact, thank Eudora. We’ll get her back!”

  Toriko looked over the console and queried, “Computer: flight status?”

  “Analysis: Repairs necessary. Short-term travel still possible.”

  She nibbled her lip. “Down, but not out. I can work with that!”

  While Toriko steered the ship to follow the floating module, which was headed in the direction of a nearby planet that was not far from where they had dropped into space from the tunnel, Mencari activated th
e communication channel back to the asteroid base. As the channel opened, a hologram of Osuto appeared.

  “Spark already sent me updates,” Osuto said. “Ujaku is reviewing his ship to see if we can help yet.”

  Toriko moaned, “Oh, man, she’s gonna kill me. That planet . . . ooh, she just hit the atmosphere. Hard.”

  Osuto’s voice came through the comm unit. “Can you still land your ship in one piece?”

  Toriko sighed. “Computer, advise feasibility to land on closest planet.”

  “Analysis complete. Due to current structural and propulsion failure, significant impairments to ship’s systems will be incurred if an atmospheric entry is attempted. Successful landing anticipated, but departure improbable.”

  “Toriko, after you land, send me a list of whatever you need to fix the craft,” Osuto said. “We’ll get the needed stuff and head to your coordinates.”

  She said, “Okay,” and nodded as his image dissolved.

  They tracked the module’s particle trail down to an impact site on the surface of the planet. From the initial readings, the planet teemed with life, but didn’t seem inhabited by anything humanoid. “Like some kind of oasis in space,” Toriko muttered.

  While they descended, she brought up images of the impact site. Only a huge cloud of smoke could be seen. “Oh, Eudora! Could she have survived that?”

  “Don’t count her out just yet,” Mencari said. “She’s been around a long time. And remember, she’s mostly crystal. Hard as a rock.”

  I hope.

  Sinking slowing through the atmosphere, she carefully set the vessel down in a clearing near the crash site.

  The computer said, its voice sounding a little higher, “Warning: Critical systems compromised. Disabling flight controls, following safety protocol 3845.”

  Toriko sighed. “Well, it isn’t like it didn’t warn us.”

  She compiled a listing of damaged systems and quickly transmitted them back to the base while Mencari opened a communication channel to the asteroid base and briefed Osuto. Then they secured the ship and debarked from the craft, headed to the crash site. Spark came with them, dashing ahead and back and sniffing the ground, emitting an occasional low growl.