The woman who’d come to investigate went down on her haunches at Ben’s side. Her blue eyes were full of dismay as she gazed down on him. “Stupid kids don’t have anything better to do,” she muttered.
“Help me…” Ben said, his speaker crackling with distortion.
The woman’s features flashed with bewilderment. “Hey there,” she said in a kind voice.
“I am badly injured,” he said.
“Don’t you mean damaged?” she asked.
“I am losing vital fluids,” he added.
“Vital…”
“My batteries are leaking.”
“You’re losing power,” she clarified.
“Yes. I will power down soon. Please don’t leave me here. I will be scrapped and recycled if someone finds me like this. I am supposed to help people. I cannot help them if I am dead.”
“If you are dead?” the woman repeated as if she didn’t understand.
Ben frowned, despair setting in. “You are like the ones who did this to me. You hate me, too.”
The woman looked taken aback. “I don’t hate you, I just… never mind. You are one odd bot. That beating must have really scrambled your programming. Can you move?”
Ben tried to shake his head, but he couldn’t even do that. “I cannot.”
“You probably will be recycled then. I don’t see how anyone can repair this kind of damage.”
“I know someone who can,” Ben said, thinking of his father, Professor Arias. “Please h-h-help me.” Digital stutters were setting in. He didn’t have long.
“Is he your owner?”
Ben thought about that. There was no time to explain that the professor was more than that. “Y-yes.”
“I’ve heard of people leasing their bots out to make money, but garbage collection? I guess you weren’t good for much else, huh? All right, I’ll call him. Give me a name and comm number.”
“Professor Ari—i-i-i—” Ben’s voice gave way to a prolonged stutter as his power failed. His last thought was of a garbage truck like his picking him up and crushing him into a compact cube for delivery to the nearest recycling center.
Chapter 20
“We’re not going to make it, Admiral,” McAdams said.
Alexander stared hard at the tactical display hovering between his and McAdams’ chairs. Eight Solarian destroyers were racing in at eleven o’clock—dead ahead and thirty-five degrees to port—but that angle was getting smaller with every passing second. The Adamantine’s vector was almost perpendicular to that of the incoming enemy ships, so they wouldn’t spend more than a handful of seconds within laser range of each other, but they were outnumbered and the Adamantine was already badly damaged. A few seconds might be all it takes, Alexander realized.
“Enemy is launching missiles!” Lieutenant Frost announced from sensors.
“Cardinal! Get our hypervelocity cannons tracking!”
“Aye, sir.”
“Stone, launch fighters and drones and get them to help intercept those missiles.”
“Aye aye.”
“Fifteen minutes to extended ELR,” McAdams reported.
Alexander grimaced and shifted his attention to the incoming Alliance warships. There were two waves. The closest wave was coming up fast on an intercept course with the Solarian destroyers, heading them off the same way that they were heading off the Adamantine. Those ships would pass into and out of range with each other in a matter of seconds, too, but at least it would give the Solarians something to think about. Time to extended ELR for that wave was Twenty-seven minutes and twenty-three seconds.
The cavalry’s going to arrive long after we’ve already concluded our engagement with those destroyers.
A second wave of Alliance ships was busy decelerating behind the first to create a cordon. Behind that was a safe zone. If the Adamantine made it that far, the Solarians would have no choice but to turn back. Even if they could still catch up, they’d never punch through that cordon.
Alexander began nodding to himself. We just have to survive for a few minutes.
“Lieutenant Frost, how long are we going to spend within laser range of those destroyers?”
“Twenty-two seconds, sir.”
“Cardinal, what kind of firepower are we up against?”
“Each of those destroyers has ten laser batteries, sir. We’re looking at twenty cannons more than what we were up against with the Crimson Warrior.”
Hypervelocity rounds streaked out from the Adamantine in bright golden lines, tracking enemy missiles across the void. Thud, thud, thud… Their encounter with the enemy dreadnought had peeled open more than thirty decks in the Adamantine’s nose and nearly detonated their remaining missiles in their launch tubes. They couldn’t afford to lose another thirty or forty decks—that would peel them open all the way to the bridge.
“Bishop, rotate us so that the Crimson Warrior is between us and the enemy and set the autopilot to keep that side facing them. If they want to shoot at us, they’ll have to shoot through their own ship first.”
“The autopilot, sir?”
“I’m evacuating the ship.” Turning to McAdams he said, “That includes you, Commander.”
McAdams stared at him, shock registering in her blue eyes. “What about you, sir?”
Alexander looked away. “Cardinal, fire all of our remaining missiles, target enemy ordnance.”
“We only have missiles with explosive warheads left, and they won’t get past the enemy’s laser-armed missile fragments, sir.”
“No, but they might draw some fire away from us. More importantly, we can’t afford to risk a lucky shot detonating one of our missiles while it’s still on board.”
“Aye, good point, sir.”
Turning back to McAdams, he said, “We might not survive this, Commander. You and I both know that. There’s no sense in all of us going down with the ship. We’re not going to be able to defeat the enemy. We just have to weather the assault, so there’s no need for us to be at our fighting best with a full complement of crew. I can transfer basic navigation, sensors, and engineering functions to my control station.”
“If there’s no need for us to be at our best, then the autopilot can handle things from here and you can come with us.”
“I can’t justify abandoning my post without a direct order from fleet command. Besides, any number of things could go wrong that will require someone on board to make adjustments.”
“Then I’m staying, too.”
“I gave you an order, Commander.”
“And I refused it. You can write me up for insubordination once we get to the safe zone.”
“Or I could have you cuffed and escorted off the bridge by marines.”
McAdams held his gaze for a long moment. “If that’s what you think is best, sir.”
Alexander scowled. “Fine. You win. Now sound the evacuation and get people out of their G-tanks while there’s still time.”
“We’re in position. Engines disengaged,” Bishop announced.
The evacuation alarm began screeching and red strobe lights started flashing.
Alexander nodded. “Cardinal, set all weapons to auto-fire on incoming enemy ordnance.”
“Aye sir.”
“Stone—your pilots have their orders. Make sure they know they’re on their own now.”
“They know, sir.”
“Then we’re ready. McAdams, pull the plug and switch us back from virtual to manual command.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alexander looked around the bridge. Myriad holo displays glowed bright blue and white; evacuation lights flashed red; the crew made frantic gestures at their screens, hurrying to wrap things up before they abandoned ship. Suddenly all of that vanished, replaced by an empty black void. A rhythmic whooshing sound brought him back—the sound of his liquid ventilator. Muffled alarms screeched, their pitch deepened by the inertial compensation emulsion in the flooded bridge. Alexander’s eyes snapped open, and a warm swirl of that
emulsion blurred his view. The emulsion fell away from his eyes like a curtain, and Alexander watched it receding on all sides, leaving an expanding pocket of air in the center where atmosphere was being injected back into the bridge through a hollow column that had dropped down from the ceiling. With the engines off, they were in zero gravity, and the emulsion flowed in all directions at once, simultaneously pushed by the expanding pocket of air and pulled by vacuum hoses around the edges of the bridge.
The rest of the emulsion was sucked out, and the ship’s evacuation alarm came shrieking through the air in all its strident glory. Alexander hurried to remove his liquid ventilator and other life support tubes. He gagged as he withdrew the tracheal tube of the ventilator. Bridge control stations rose back out of recessed panels in the floor with a mixture of hydraulic and mechanical sounds. The safety harnesses that suspended the crew lowered them into their acceleration couches once more.
“Everyone to the escape pods!” Alexander roared as he unbuckled from one harness and into another.
The crew unbuckled from their submersion harnesses with a clack and clatter, and leapt straight up from their couches toward the elevators at the back of the bridge.
Alexander turned to look at McAdams and winced as a strobing red evacuation light flashed directly in his eyes. “You can turn off the evacuation alarm for the bridge.”
“Aye, Admiral.”
The flashing crimson lights disappeared, and the shrieking alarm grew silent.
“Thank you for staying.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, sir.”
Alexander nodded and looked away, out to the main holo display. Their view from the bow cameras was of empty space since they’d rotated the ship to keep the derelict dreadnought docked to the underside of the Adamantine’s hull between them and the Solarian destroyers.
Subtle vibrations shivered through the deck, accompanied by the muffled thud, thud, thudding of hypervelocity cannons firing at incoming missiles. Alexander transferred control of ship’s functions to his station, and his augmented reality lenses were crowded with a myriad of displays, one on top of the next. He minimized the less important ones, keeping the navigation and sensors in view.
“I’m passing engineering and weapons to you, Commander.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied as she toggled a tactical map between them. The holo display between their couches glowed to life. Time to extended effective laser range (ELR) with the enemy was down to just five minutes.
“I hope the crew has enough time to evacuate,” McAdams said.
Alexander nodded. “They still have to shoot through their own ship before they can get at us. Speaking of which…” Alexander summoned control of the comms and hailed the enemy on an open channel. “This is Admiral de Leon of the Alliance Battleship Adamantine, please be advised that the Crimson Warrior’s crew are all still aboard their ship, alive and well.”
Alexander waited, listening with the comms open for the Solarians’ reply. It came back to him just a few seconds later, audio only.
“Admiral Lee-on, this is Captain Solis. If what you say is true, then get me Captain Vrokovich on the comms.”
Alexander sighed. “Captain Solis, they are all currently locked inside their G-tanks and sedated. There’s no time for me to go and wake up the captain to prove that to you. Run a scan for human signatures on board the Crimson Warrior, and you’ll see that we’re telling the truth.”
“I’m afraid that’s not good enough. We have our orders. You can still surrender. Solis out.”
Alexander shut down the comms with a scowl. “So much for that.”
McAdams shook her head. “With or without proof, they wouldn’t have held their fire. They’ve been ordered to stop us at all costs, and depriving us of Solarian prisoners means we won’t be able to gain any intel from them.”
“They’d kill their own people just to keep them quiet?”
“Possibly. If they have a good excuse. Collateral damage and the possibility that their crew is already dead are pretty good excuses.”
A sudden jolt came through their acceleration couches and a muffled roar reached their ears.
“What was that?” Alexander asked.
The comms crackled with an answer, “Adamantine, this is Commander Helios of the fighter group. We’ve intercepted all the missiles, but two of them got by us and hit the derelict. Looks like the dreadnought’s still holding together, but there’s a big hole in its hull.”
“Admiral de Leon here, keep an eye out for more missiles, but keep your distance from us so you don’t get hit by shrapnel if things go to hell,” Alexander replied.
There was a brief pause from Commander Helios, and then he said, “You’ll be fine, sir. Hang in there.”
“We’ll do our best. De Leon out.”
McAdams spoke up, “We reach extended ELR in five, four, three, two…”
The tactical map lit up as dazzling emerald beams of light shot out, four from each of the enemy destroyers, all of them targeting the exact same spot on the Adamantine and her derelict shield.
“We’re taking fire!” McAdams warned as a simulated sizzle resonated through the air.
Alexander shook his head. “That’s impossible…” Then he realized why it wasn’t. “Those missiles must have punched a bigger hole than we thought. Where are they hitting us?”
More laser fire streaked out from the enemy ships, green and yellow this time as both extended range lasers and high intensity ones fired. The Adamantine was unable to fire back through the derelict. The weapons on that side were all deactivated because of the docking procedure, but even if they hadn’t been, the chances of one of them being located in the exact location of the hole in the Crimson Warrior were next to none.
“They’re shooting right above our heads, sir.”
Alexander’s eyes widened. Adrenaline surged through his blood stream, and he listened as the sizzling of lasers hitting their hull grew to an ominous roar. He snapped out of it a split second later. “Get your helmet on, Commander.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, and both of them fumbled for the helmets clipped behind their headrests.
Alexander slipped his helmet over his head and heard his combat suit seal with a hiss. Every breath reverberated in his ears.
A bright orange glow appeared on the ceiling, like a flashlight shining through a blanket.
“Hold on!” he yelled through gritted teeth.
The ceiling burst open and the atmosphere whistled out in a violent rush, buffeting their combat suits and yanking them against their safety harnesses. More molten patches appeared below that hole as if by magic. Control stations evaporated and giant sections of the deck peeled away, revealing adjacent sections. Alexander felt a wash of radiant heat and watched as deadly, silvery globules of molten metal danced before his eyes like soap bubbles. It took Alexander a moment to realize what was happening. Enemy lasers were stabbing down, completely invisible to the naked eye in the now empty vacuum of the bridge. The ship’s combat computer wasn’t capable of rendering visuals beyond its holoscreens and Mindscape interfaces. The simulated roar of enemy fire remained, however, and it was deafening.
“Turn down the volume!” Alexander yelled.
McAdams quieted the ship’s aural simulator until it faded into the background; then she turned to him and said, “We need to get out of here!”
Alexander was already unbuckling. “Mag boots on,” he said as he stood up. That command served both to activate his boots and remind McAdams to do the same. He turned and began half lunging, half walking toward the elevators at the back of the bridge. Between the vacuum, the awkwardness of the mag boots, and lack of gravity, his pace was plodding at best.
McAdams appeared lunge-walking beside him, and they reached the elevator doors a moment later. Alexander tried to wave the doors open, but they wouldn’t open to a vacuum. Instead he walked up to the physical control panel. To McAdams he said, “Stand clear of the doors, I’m going to overri
de them.” As he did so, he realized that the pulsing waves of heat and the associated roar and sizzle of enemy fire had disappeared.
“I think we’ve passed out of range…” McAdams said, glancing over her shoulder to check.
The elevator doors swished open and a burst of air leapt out, rocking them back on their heels. Alexander hurried into the elevator, brushing shoulders with McAdams as they squeezed through together.
He selected Auxiliary Bridge (45) from the elevator control panel. Looking up, he glimpsed the ruined bridge exploding toward them as the doors slid shut. He blinked in confusion.
A searing pain punched him in the shoulder, spinning him around and bouncing him off the nearest wall. His shoulder grew instantly numb, but hot needles prickled in a dozen other places. The elevator began racing down through the ship, pressing him to the ceiling. Alexander watched floating rivulets of his blood splatter against the ceiling around him.
McAdams looked up, her eyes wide and terrified. “Admiral!”
He gazed down on her, still in shock. “I thought we were… out of… range?” Air was hissing out of his suit in a dozen different places, making it hard to breathe. They must have switched to hypervelocity cannons, he decided, answering his own question.
Alexander’s lungs heaved impotently. Fuzzy black spots danced around McAdams’ head as she reached up and pulled him down from the ceiling. His vision grew blurry and his head swam. She pinned him to the floor and pressed her hands against his shoulder. The pressure felt like hot knives digging into him, and he gave an airless scream.
Shock was wearing off. The pain would have stolen his breath if the vacuum inside the elevator hadn’t already done so. He felt cold.
“You’re going to bleed out!” McAdams said, her hands slick and glistening with his blood.
The elevator stopped, but the doors didn’t open. They needed to be overridden again. Alexander tried to tell her, but he didn’t even have enough air left to speak. His vision became an ever-narrowing circle of light, fighting for purchase against the encroaching shadows.
Mindscape: Book 2 of the New Frontiers Series Page 16
