The screaming finally subsided, and Valjoth reset Davey’s controller. Evrei climbed back to his feet. He performed his little bow again, shakily this time, and listened as Valjoth addressed him. Davey didn’t feel like getting up. His fury had exhausted him. It was easier to lay still and accept whatever came next.
“The Great Lord bids me inform you that resistance is futile. He judges it the same as noncompliance. It will be punished accordingly.”
Valjoth said something else.
“The Great Lord bids me say—”
“He’s not a great lord! He’s a mass murderer!”
Evrei translated and Valjoth responded.
“The Great Lord orders you to rise and face him like a sentient being, and stop acting like a... like... apologies. There is no Human word applicable. Slimy insect is closest.”
Davey snorted. “The word you probably need is slug.”
Evrei bowed. “Gratitude.”
Valjoth barked an order.
“The Great Lord insists you rise and face him immediately. Noncompliance will—”
“Result in punishment. Yeah I heard the first time.”
Davey struggled to his feet.
Evrei screamed and fell to the deck writhing in agony.
Davey took half a step, but froze. Valjoth was watching him intently. He wasn’t paying attention to Evrei’s convulsions.
Davey tried not to show his anger. “Please. Please stop,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm. God how he wanted to gut Valjoth where he stood. “Please. Great. Lord,” he forced the words past his lips. “Evrei is blameless.”
Valjoth raised the controllers. Davey tensed expecting pain, but Evrei’s screams diminished to whimpers, and then groans of pleasure as Valjoth reversed the torment.
Davey closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see the servitor’s degradation, but the moment he blocked the sight the screaming began again. His eyes snapped open and Evrei’s screams turned to groans of pleasure.
Davey glared his hate at Valjoth, but kept his peace. He wasn’t a fool. Evrei said he was his tutor. He’d assumed Evrei would teach him the Merkiaari language or something, but it obviously meant more than that. Evrei was a hostage. He’d betrayed himself. He shouldn’t have shown pity.
Evrei finally quieted and regained his footing. Valjoth addressed him, and again the servitor bowed as if the abuse meant nothing. Just another day on the job.
Davey felt sick. He’d rather die than live like that.
Valjoth jabbered away and Evrei translated.
“The Great Lord finds you entertaining and is pleased you’ve finally responded to your training. He doesn’t want to terminate you. He bids me inform you that you must use the cleanser daily and eat your meals. Noncompliance will be punished. Your lessons begin after the next sleep cycle. I am to teach you how to serve the ship and our lord. Unsatisfactory effort or results will—”
“Be punished,” Davey said glumly. “I get it. Why do you do his bidding? Don’t you hate him?”
“Hatred is irrelevant.”
“That wasn’t a no. You must hate the Merki as much as I do.”
“Irrelevant.”
Valjoth barked something and headed for the door.
“The Great Lord has ordered me to report to him daily. Use the cleanser now and change your clothes. Eat. I will return to begin your lessons. Non—”
“I heard the first time. You don’t need to keep repeating yourself.”
Evrei bobbed a bow. “Gratitude, but I do not wish to be punished.”
That made Davey feel worse. He didn’t want to be tied to this alien, but what he wanted didn’t matter. It hadn’t mattered for a long time.
“I will comply,” Davey said grimly.
“Gratitude,” Evrei said and left the cell.
Davey approached the door and it shot open. It wasn’t locked! Evrei had forgotten to lock him in! He hesitated. It had to be a test. A trap. Didn’t it? He poked his head out of his cell and looked both ways. No guards. No obvious guards. He ducked back inside frowning. Valjoth was a tricky one. He was daring him to break the rules. He had to be watching him somehow.
Davey stripped and fed his soiled clothes into the slot in the wall. A moment later a fresh garment arrived. He threw it on the bed and stepped into the cleanser to wash for the first time in weeks. He revelled in the feeling and hated himself for it. He was following orders. It should make him angry not happy.
Davey dried himself after a long shower. The Merkiaari used warm air blowers instead of towels because of their fur. It worked just as well for him, but it did whip his overly long hair about his head, and he didn’t have a brush or any way to tidy it. He would cut it if he could, but doubted he’d be trusted with a knife.
Davey dressed himself and used the autochef. He didn’t know what the Merkiaari called them, but the food it dispensed was edible. It had made him sick the first few times he’d eaten it, but that was months ago. He’d become accustomed to it long before he’d gone on his useless hunger strike.
He was still eating when Evrei returned carrying a few Merki computer tablets. Davey pretended disinterest as he ate. His stomach had shrunk over the past two weeks. He couldn’t finish. Rather than force it and make himself ill, he stood to dispose of the leftovers.
Meanwhile, Evrei took a seat on the bed to wait patiently.
Davey saw nothing for it. He’d have to play along and take his pat on the head. He’d learn what Evrei had to teach, and he’d find a weapon, and when the time came he’d fillet Valjoth like a fish. He dumped his tray in the autochef and took a seat.
Evrei handed him one of the tablets. “We will begin by reading a simple text. The Merkiaari tongue is based upon old Kiar, as is their written language. Here you see the alphabet. It consists of seventy-four letters and twelve independent special-use words. Old Kiar is written thus...”
* * *
24 ~ Eternal Friends
Bountiful Luck, approaching (427) Hoskin, Argo System
Captain Burton thumped the droid on the bucket of bolts she called a head. “Get your noggin out of the net, Hannah, and help me here!”
The droid glared, but then, she always did. She didn’t have a face and eyelids. Her eye assemblies had failed years back, and he’d made do with some cheap replacements. They were too big for her head. The ship always came first on shopping trips, and parts for Hannah’s model were hard to find.
“You awake now?” he said, as he headed for the vac-suit locker.
Hannah swivelled the pilot’s couch to follow his movement. “This unit is incapable of sleep. If you’re referring to my current status, I can report that my power cell is at 83% of capacity.”
“It always is,” Burton muttered. She was on charge all the time; she needed a new power converter. “I wasn’t asking.”
“How may I serve you today, Captain?”
That form of request was a holdover from her days as a bank clerk. She didn’t use it often anymore. He’d put a lot of time into upgrading her software, and one of those was an addition to her vocabulary module. She could do a hell of a lot more than give good backtalk these days. She could pilot the ship, make basic meals, and even join him on EVA. Hannah and he were a team. All of her mods let them work together in the black for longer. She was the perfect partner. She didn’t eat, sleep, or breathe, and that meant they didn’t need to resupply as often as other independents.
Amalgamated Mining, the only deal in town willing to buy from the smaller outfits, turned a blind eye toward him flying solo. Hannah didn’t count as crew, except to him. They cared about the quality of the ore he brought back, not the safety regs he pretty much ignored. The other independents thought him crazy for cutting so many corners. Out alone in the black too long, they said. Maybe so, but he owned his ship, while they were still in hock to various banks. And how did he manage that? By running solo, that’s how.
“Overheads, Hannah,” he said over his shoulder, and dragged the suit out of
the locker. “Keep ’em low. Remember that.”
“Keep ’em low, aye,” Hannah replied. “Like your balls, Captain.”
Burton snickered. He still got off on her doing that. He’d programmed her to be his helmswoman, and act just like Zelda’s pilot on her show. Shortcut, Zelda’s pilot, had a mouth on her, but she was great. She always had Zelda’s back when things got sticky, and that’s what he needed from his Hannah.
Dependability.
He had the definitive collection of Zelda and the Spaceways in his apartment. Every show, and every sensim; all of them glorious full-sensory simulations. He had his own rig, and spent a lot of time with Zelda on her ship. He liked Shortcut’s character, because she loved Zelda as much as he did. Hannah was his version of her.
“Plot a course, and park us within EVA range of Four-Two-Seven Hoskin.”
“Aye, aye,” Hannah said, and went to work. “Our ETA is approximately six minutes, Captain.”
“Very good. Inform me upon arrival.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Bligh.”
Burton grinned. She sometimes shortened Bountiful Luck’s name to the Bounty too. He really did love his Hannah. He didn’t care she was bug-ugly; her face was anyway. The rest of her wasn’t bad to look at, but he’d never been into the mech sex scene. Some of the other guys would’ve taken a shot at her despite her face, but he’d kill them if they tried. Hannah was his buddy; more than that, she was crew and closer to him than his sister. Anyone interfering with his girl, would be in for a world of hurt.
No messing.
The rare M-Type asteroid they were heading for, (427) Hoskin, was too distant from Argo to tap easily. No one liked long distance runs. Fuel cost credits, and the smelters were all in orbit of Argo. Only Hannah and he could make it work.
Overheads again.
(427) Hoskin was a virgin ’roid, and all the more desirable for it. There should be plenty of easily obtainable ore, just lying about on its surface as rubble. After collecting all that, he’d get down to the serious business of getting rich again. He’d been rich in the past, and all in all, he preferred it over his current penury. He fully expected a good haul of platinum group metals this trip, but cobaltite was his holy grail. Cobalt was always in high demand, but prices were through the roof this quarter. War did have its uses.
He suited up while Hannah parked the ship within reach of his prize. He had a good feeling about this run. If he could scrape up a good haul from the surface, he could buy the equipment he’d need to hollow the guts out of Hoskin. It would pay for a new power cell for Hannah. Hell, he’d buy her a face and the eyes to go with it, if she wanted. He’d have so much credit with the bank, he’d able to import everything she needed brand new from the core.
“Hey Hannah. How’d you like a new paint job? You could use a tan. Know what I’m saying?”
Hannah glared at him, of course. “How about I slice your dick off, Captain?”
Burton snickered. He remembered adding that one to her vocabulary. He wondered why she’d chosen it this time, not that she’d know if he asked her. The algorithm in her noggin controlled her responses. They could be uncanny sometimes.
“No seriously.”
“I am serious. Come near me with paint, and I’ll cut you bad.”
Burton blinked. “Err... okay. I just thought we should match. You are a bit, well, pale. I mean, I’m okay with it. God knows, I could use some work too at my age. A tuck here or there, maybe some bleaching. I wouldn’t want to be as white as you, but well... no offence.”
“We’re in range for EVA, Captain. Thrusters at station keeping.”
Bloody hell, the others were right. He was talking to a droid like a real woman. He really was cracking up. Hannah cocked her head. Burton could have sworn she was thinking his offer over. It was hard to tell. Her glares never changed.
“Are you okay?”
“How may I serve you today, Captain?”
Burton sighed, and then laughed at himself. She’d spooked him there. For a minute, he’d thought... well, never mind what he’d thought.
“You can serve me by suiting up! You can’t expect me to do all the work.”
“Fuck you. I’m not the one who spends half the time sleeping.”
“That’s more like it. Tell it to me straight, Hannah my girl.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Bligh, sir. Suiting up on the double, sir.”
Burton laughed, all was right with his little world again.
He helped her disconnect from the charging station, and pull on her suit. She didn’t need air to breathe, but she did need its environmental systems to maintain her core temperature. Exposure to cold would drain her power cell too fast. He double-checked all of her seals, and the suit’s heater.
They entered the airlock together.
“You’re driving,” Burton said as the airlock pumped down to vacuum. He snapped one end of the tether to his suit, and the other to the cargo ring on hers. “No skylarking. This is serious. Your new eyes and face depend on it.”
“Aye, aye, Captain. I want brown.”
Before Burton could ask what she meant, the outer door opened, and she engaged her thrusters without warning.
“Bloody hell, woman! Warn me first!” he yelled as the tether snapped taught. He flew out of the airlock in her wake, and toward the wall of rock ahead. “I said no skylarking. That’s a bloody order!”
“Aye, aye, Captain Boooring.”
Okay, maybe her algos needed some work. It was funny in the ship, but not out here in the black. His breathing was loud in his ears, as he imagined what could go wrong. She could fly them face first into the mountain they were approaching. His hand wandered to the safety clip. He could cut her loose, and use his own thrusters.
Before he could give in to fear, Hannah used her thrusters to slow herself. Burton flew straight by. The tether sprang taught again, and jerked him around to face her. He couldn’t see the ’roid they were speeding toward. Hannah began pulsing her thrusters in controlled bursts. They’d performed surveys like this hundreds of times. He’d always trusted her, but her strange reaction earlier had him spooked.
“And... touchdown. The crowd goes wild,” Hannah said.
Burton felt the lightest of touches as his back brushed the rock. “Damn, you’re good,” he said, breathing a little fast from his adrenalin high.
“Too good for the likes of you, Captain.”
Burton didn’t laugh this time. “Maybe so, Hannah. Maybe so.”
Hannah joined him a moment later on the surface to begin their survey. She held a sample bag open for him, as he chose various likely looking rocks to test when they got back to the ship. He could already tell Hoskin was a good rock—one that would fill his bank account.
“That will do. Let’s check out the other side. You drive.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Bligh.”
He’d been dead on about Hoskin. There was plenty of loose material on the surface waiting to be swept up. He watched it passing beneath them, as Hannah towed him up and over the top of the ’roid. All those credits, just lying there waiting for him, barely clinging to the surface. The tug of micro-gravity was all that held it there. No mass intensive mining machines were needed this time, but the next run would cost serious money. All that mass meant fuel, but the rubble this trip should cover his costs. Speculate to accumulate should be his mantra. He’d always done things that way. He’d speculated there was money to earn at Hoskin, and was proven right. Phase-two of his comeback, the investment phase, would start once he off-loaded at the smelters, and went looking for proper automated mining machines.
A flash of light briefly lit the surface of the asteroid, before shadow claimed it again. He turned from side to side, trying to see what caused it, but the constant tension on the tether prevented him turning a full one-eighty.
“Hannah, there’s something—” Burton began to say, but she applied her thrusters, and he sped past. “Dammit!”
Burton grunted, as the te
ther sprang taught and spun him around. He saw it then, a huge shadow occluding the stars. A vast ship. He swore as he imagined one of the bigger mining operations surveying ’roids on his new patch.
“Touchdown, and the crowd goes wild,” Hannah said.
Burton barely felt Hoskin’s micro-gravity taking charge of him. He stared at that huge shadow and realised the flash of light had been the Bounty. His ship. They’d killed his ship. The claim-jumping-bastards had blown away his ship without warning. They’d killed him and Hannah, without a word spoken. He stared at his doom, and suddenly knew. It wasn’t a mining vessel. The silhouette was all wrong. He watched the ship fly sedately away, and saw hundreds more like it, hanging among the asteroids. Hundreds and hundreds of hidden warships. Merkiaari warships.
He shook off his shock to check his O2 levels. He had just under five hours remaining, and nowhere to go. He turned to Hannah, and took the sample bag from her. It was just extra mass they didn’t need. He shoved it away from them. Hannah watched it go in silence, her emotionless eyes glowing golden from the shadows within her helmet. He looked back at the Merkiaari ship. She had joined her murderous sisters now, and looked small with distance.
The Merkiaari didn’t know he was here. They must have thought they’d killed all the nosy vermin. With nowhere for him to go, they were right. They had killed him, but on a five-hour delay timer. He couldn’t even take a piss.
Typical.
Face to face with Hannah, Burton tried to think of a way out, but there was nothing. He was going to die, and his girl would watch it happen in real time. Ah well. There were worse ways to go. He would suffocate when he depleted his O2, but long before that, he would turn off his CO2 scrubber. He’d just fall asleep, and not wake.
“I have a plan, Hannah. I have my way out. What about you, love? How’s your power holding up?”
“I can report that my power cell is at 68% of capacity. I will enter power saving mode in approximately six hours.”
“Okay. Six is good,” he said. He wouldn’t have to watch her die. He peered into her visor, and she glared back. “What did you mean back there, when you said you like brown?”
Incursion: Merkiaari Wars Book 5 Page 18
