Four Tomorrows: A Space Opera Box Set

by James Palmer

  “Where is everyone?” Allen asked, growing more concerned. There were people on duty down here,” he confirmed. “Engineering was fully staffed to prep the ship for launch.”

  “Then where is the engineering staff, Lieutenant?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “Something isn’t right here,” Freeman said, belaboring the obvious.

  Moving deeper into engineering, the others followed.

  What they found inside horrified Lt. Allen beyond words. His stomach lurched.

  His voice a somber monotone, Deputy Freeman said, “Well, this is not at all what I expected.”

  Chapter 51

  47

  Space Lab Science Station

  Captain Virginia Harmon was running for her life.

  Continuing downward through the bowels of the Space Lab station in an attempt to put as much distance between herself and those pursuing her, the captain was running on pure adrenaline. A crashing sound from above alerted her to the fact that the Artificial Life Forms had broken through the stairwell despite her hurried welding job. Luckily, the stairs had proved to be a blessing in disguise.

  The A.L.’s were relatively small creatures, roughly between three and four feet tall though some were even smaller. They were not equipped to handle the stairs, plus their large numbers had them crowded in like cattle.

  The going would be slow for them.

  And whatever was bad for them was good news for Captain Harmon. The bad news was that the A.L.’s were incredibly intelligent, almost single-minded in their determination. It was possible they would find a way to circumvent the difficulties presented by the enclosed stairwell.

  Coming to the bottom of the stairwell, she kicked open the door leading into yet another corridor. There was no sense sneaking about now that the A.L.’s know where she was. Her only concern was keeping them away from the others.

  “Speaking of which,” she asked, looking around the corridor. “Where exactly are the others?”

  The corridor was similar to the one she had last visited. Getting lost on a space station the size of Space Lab would not be a difficult task. However, If her calculations were correct, she only had one more flight of stairs to go before reaching her shuttle.

  Searching, she found the door to the next set of stairs. It was only a few dozen feet away, at the opposite end of the corridor. A simple jog to reach it.

  “I’ve got to buy us some time,” she said, pulling out her pistol once again. She aimed at the door through which she had just exited. Squinting, she adjusted her aim and squeezed the trigger. A tight blue beam erupted from her pistol and slammed into the door. Moving as quickly as possible, Captain Harmon welded this door closed as she had the one a few levels above. Previous experience informed her that it would not stop the approaching horde, but it would slow them down.

  “Got to hurry,” she said, feeling her heart clawing its way out of her chest. “Got to hurry. Got to hurry.”

  After a few seconds of less than precision welding, she released the trigger and the beam of blue energy dissipated. “Finished. That should hold them for a few minutes.”

  And then, she ran toward the door to the next set of stairs. Before reaching her destination, she stopped. Something caught her eye. A plan formed quickly.

  For the first time in the last hour or so, Virginia Harmon allowed herself to smile.

  Reaching out, she let her hand play across the control panel before her. “This is good,” she said.

  “This is very good.”

  # # #

  Cynthia Morgan had passed out again.

  She had been in and out of consciousness since the treacherous exodus from Space Lab’s Operation’s Center. Doctor James Silver and Lt. Sheron Vandrell alternated carrying her through the stairwells leading down. The path they were taking was the quickest and probably safest one available, to everyone except the injured Doctor Morgan.

  Just before she passing out the last time, the station’s chief administrator had mentioned that this was the last set of stairs before they reached the section where the captain had landed, or crashed depending on who told the story, her shuttle. In her current state of deliriousness, Dr. Morgan’s information could not be considered wholly reliable.

  Ensign Bailey agreed with the chief’s observation, but added that he was not one hundred percent certain. Things had gotten more than a little bit rough since this day started and they were all tired. So very tired.

  Stephanie Walsh held up a hand telling them to hold their positions.

  The others stopped.

  “End of the line,” she said. “Our shuttle should be on the other side of this door.” Slowly, she opened the manual release door as Hanover trained his rifle on the door. It opened just a crack at first before flinging open fully. “Alright folks, everyone on board quickly.”

  She stood guard at the door as Hanover led the others past her toward the shuttle. “Our chariot awaits,” she said. “Let’s move, people.”

  Raymond Hanover entered his access code and the shuttle’s hatch jerked downward until it connected with hard steel deck plating, providing an entry ramp for the survivors to board. “Everyone inside,” he commanded from the bottom of the ramp.

  Doctor Silver and Lt. Vandrell hoisted Dr. Morgan inside first. Careful of her injuries, they moved her to a bench along the far wall and strapped her in. The ride out was certain to be a rough one. Her injuries might not be able to handle it.

  Vandrell reached out and without a word, Hanover slapped an emergency medical kit in her out stretched hand.

  The Lieutenant popped the top, fumbling around inside the polymer box for something to dull the pain Dr. Morgan was obviously feeling. Finally, she discovered the morphine injection. “Dr. Silver?” she asked, passing him the medicine.

  Silver grabbed the vial of morphine from her and filled the injector with the pain killing medicine. While not a cure for his friend’s problems, it would keep the pain at bay until they could get her to a proper medical facility for treatment.

  He waited until after Lt. Vandrell applied a tourniquet before injecting the morphine into Cynthia’s arm. The injured scientist jerked against the straps holding her in place as the medicine entered her body. Together Silver and Vandrell held her steady.

  The seconds ticked off. Suddenly the chief administrator slipped into peaceful slumber, the morphine having dulled her pain for the time being.

  After securing Dr. Morgan, Silver moved to the forward cockpit. He reached for the comm unit and dialed the frequency Ensign Bailey had given to Nurse Stevens. “This is James Silver to Nurse Stevens. Please respond.”

  She did not respond.

  He tried again. “Please respond. The station has been overrun. We have to go now. Please acknowledge.”

  No reply came from Nurse Stevens or the security officers who had escorted her on her mission of mercy. Silver let the comm unit buzz for several seconds before giving up, realizing that he would probably never receive an answer. His heart ripped wide knowing this was his fault. He had convinced them to stay and help search for survivors.

  “Dammit,” was all he could say.

  “Where’s Captain Harmon?” he asked after leaving the cockpit. “We have to get out of here now.”

  “The others?” Ensign Bailey asked solemnly.

  Silver simply shook his head.

  Ensign Bailey looked defeated.

  Officer’s Hanover and Walsh stood guard at the shuttle hatchway. The doctor approached cautiously. “Anything?” he asked.

  “She has to be alright,” Hanover said. “She’s the only one who can fly this thing. At least the only one with experience.”

  Silver clapped the young man on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. Unfortunately, he could not take his own advice.

  A bell chime sounded, echoing in the large room. The soldiers braced themselves for a renewed attack.

  The elevator on the far wall opened.

  The officers rai
sed their weapons.

  “Ready?” Hanover asked.

  “Ready,” Walsh echoed.

  Dr. Silver held his breath.

  “Wait!” Bailey shouted from inside the shuttle, having taken position at the top of the ramp. “It’s the captain.”

  Officer Hanover put a firm hand on Officer Walsh’s rifle, lowering it slowly. “Thank God,” he said.

  “Amen to that, brother,” James Silver sighed.

  The captain ran across the room, bounding up the ramp behind the others. Once inside the hatchway, the starship captain slapped the door close control with her open palm. Hunched over, she tried to catch her breath.

  Dr. Silver tossed her a wink. “What kept you?” he asked.

  She harumphed and moved into the cockpit. Strapping in, she started the engines. “Everyone on board?” she asked.

  “All present and accounted for, ma’am,” Walsh said as she latched her safety belt.

  “In that case, ladies and gentlemen, I suggest you put your tray tables back and strap yourselves in,” she said enthusiastically. “This could get bumpy.”

  “Great,” Dr. Silver groused. “Just what I need. More bumps.”

  “Stow it, Doctor.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smile.

  The ship vibrated, slowly rising from the debris-laden floor.

  “We are out of here!”

  “It’s about time,” James Silver said.

  48

  Alliance Starship Pegasus

  “They’re all dead!”

  Deputy Marshal Dexter Freeman moved through the carnage that had once been the engineering section of the Starship Pegasus. The bodies of the engineering staff were scattered about the room. Blood splatter covered most surfaces. Someone had opened fire with a blaster in the room, massacring the entire staff. No, not the entire staff. Someone was missing.

  “Which one’s the chief engineer, Mr. Allen?”

  “They’re all dead,” Lt. Allen said again. “Dead!”

  “Lieutenant!” Dexter’s firm command snapped him to attention. “Where is the chief of engineering?”

  “Huh? Oh, I was kind of wondering that myself,” the Pegasus’ senior officer said, trying not to look at the bodies surrounding him.

  “He’s not here?”

  “No, but I can hazard a guess where he’s gone,” he told the deputy.

  Obviously, Freeman had the same guess. “We have to get to firing control. Come on.” He grabbed the Pegasus officer by the arm, pulling him through the carnage to the hatchway leading to their destination on the opposite side of engineering.

  Once across the room, Lt. Allen pointed to a ladder and the hatchway above it. “That way. That’s the only place where the weapon’s control can be rerouted from the bridge. I’m fairly certain that’s where we’ll find Harry Thomas.”

  “Okay.” Dexter stepped back to his other officers. “Mr. Fredericks, I want you to stand guard over this section. Keep the chief here safe while he works.”

  “Yes, sir.” Fredericks answered.

  “Chief, I want this ship up and running again. Do it quick. If you can’t do it call for an immediate evacuation. I’ll back any call you make. Got it?” Dexter motioned toward the bulky engine that behind him.

  “I understand,” the Alliance Engineer answered.

  Dexter started back toward Lt. Allen. “Good. Be careful. If you can’t get this crate under control by the time I get back, then we are going to scram it. Good luck.”

  Moving past the Pegasus’ senior officer he asked, “Ready, Mr. Allen?”

  “Not really,” he answered with a nervous laugh. “Not really.”

  “Good.” Dexter smiled. “Come on.”

  They climbed the steel ladder to the upper hatchway. Lt. Allen relayed the security override code to the deputy marshal who punched it in, unlocking the hatch.

  “How far?” he asked as the hatch opened.

  “I’m not sure. Just a short distance, at best,” he said with a shrug. “Hey, I’m a communication’s specialist, not an engineer.”

  Dexter snorted then moved on.

  Reluctantly, Lt. Allen followed. “This is just not my day,” he sighed. “Maybe I can retire after this.”

  Dexter paused and cast a hard look at him. “Will you come on?”

  Lt. Allen realized it was not a request.

  He sighed.

  “Yes, sir. Right behind you.”

  Chapter 52

  49

  Space Lab Science Station

  “Hold on tight folks. We’re busting out of here!”

  Captain Virginia Harmon pulled back on the yolk of the shuttle, nudging it forward carefully toward the hole that she had made during landing earlier. The main difference between then and now was the fact that the station’s automatic force fields had slammed into place at full power to keep the station safe for humans.

  Safe was not the word she would have used to describe her time aboard Space Lab. No, not safe. Anything but.

  Sitting next to her, James Silver attempted to convince the computer to create a feedback loop that would force the station to drop the outer field long enough for the shuttle to escape. Assisting the doctor, as usual, was Ensign Bailey. They were having less than stellar luck with this particular assignment.

  “Gentlemen,” she said, nearly choking on the word. “May I remind you that we are severely running out of time here.”

  “Standby.”

  “Doctor?” her voice rose more than she intended, but her fears were well founded as the stairwell door across the large room crashed open and hundreds of A.L.’s poured into the open area with them. Like locusts, they swarmed toward the shuttle.

  “Doctor?”

  “I see them.”

  “Doctor!”

  “Wait a minute, dammit!”

  “We haven’t the time, Doctor. Hold on!” Flipping the throttle, she swung the small shuttle around to face the oncoming robotic horde. The passengers reached for something, anything to hold onto. The shuttle groaned in protest, but the captain pressed on, wincing as the rear of the shuttle scraped against the already damaged bulkhead.

  Space was at a premium inside Space Lab.

  Had she not been busy trying to stay alive she would have laughed at that little piece of irony. With her right hand, Captain Harmon flipped open the plastic cover to the missile launcher. With her thumb she flicked the safety off and depressed the rubber-plated button.

  A single missile screamed away from the shuttle toward the gathered throng of small, green skinned robots. They broke for cover, but their numbers worked against them, boxing them in better than any trap the captain could have laid for them.

  Simply put, they were sitting ducks.

  She depressed the button again, sending another missile flying before the first one found its target. The seconds ticked off, one, two, three...

  Impact.

  The space station thundered under the first explosion. The A.L.’s numbers were nearly halved in the first explosion.

  Then the second missile hit its mark. Another explosion echoed inside the shuttle, its thunderous melody resonating through the ship, the station, and the survivors. Virginia Harmon felt a sense of euphoria at defeating their deadly enemy.

  Now all she had to do was save all of their lives before the space station crumbled around them. “Doctor Silver. I have no intention of dying here,” she said, trying to impress upon him the urgency of their situation.

  “Then stop shooting up the place.”

  Before the captain could respond, something smashed against the shuttle’s hull with a loud thud, the impact driving the small ship downward. The shuttle slammed into the floor before bouncing back up on repulsor lifts. Another impact tossed the survivors around like puppets on an invisible string inside the confines of the shuttle.

  Sheron Vandrell tried to keep a hold on Dr. Morgan, lest her wounds tore open. It won’t take much to kill her, she knew, but regretted the though
t as quickly as it came to her.

  “That can’t have been good,” James Silver said.

  The doctor’s remark went unanswered. The space station was falling apart around them and there was nothing Captain Harmon could do to get these people to safety. Explosions from the distance shuddered throughout the station. Through the shuttles hull they felt the intense vibrations.

  “Got it!” Ensign Bailey yelled as the force field dropped. “Let’s go. Hurry! Go now!”

  Already in motion, the captain manipulated the controls. “We are already gone, Ensign,” she said. “Good job, boys.”

  Jerking the shuttle around, she moved toward the opening. Decompression pulled many small robotic bodies into space. Most were still moving, trying to grab the shuttle and fulfill their mission to stop the humans.

  Gotta give ‘em credit. Those little bastards are efficient to the end.

  “Oh my God,” someone screamed from the rear compartment.

  “What is that?” The voice belonged to Ensign Bailey. Harmon turned to see what had captured the officer’s attention. The far wall had begun to melt behind them. “That last missile must have damaged something important,” he said. “We should really get the hell out of here.”

  “Ya think?” Doctor Silver smarted. “Punch it, Captain! Now!”

  The engines ignited to full power and the shuttle burst free of what had been either their home or their prison. A series of rather large explosions followed them as they broke free of the confines of what had once been Space Lab.

  Virginia Harmon could almost feel the flames through the controls licking the rear of the shuttle until they were free and bound for open space and the Pegasus.

  Freedom.

  Unfortunately, Space Lab was a total loss. Small explosions raged across the surface of the once beautiful space station. And like the Phoenix of old, the great bird died slowly.

  “Not a bad piece of flying, Captain,” Ensign Bailey announced as he released a firm grip on the doctor’s chair. “Not bad at all.”