by Vann, Gregg
What was left of him anyway.
His torso, one arm, and head were all that remained intact. But somehow, remarkably…horribly; he was still alive. The poor soul was drenched in blood, and paper money, thrown everywhere by a direct hit to the bank, stuck to his wet and bleeding body. He saw me and tried to pull himself forward, inching in my direction with his one remaining arm—leaving a grisly trail of blood and gore in his wake.
And he was pleading like only the dying can.
“Please! Please…help me!”
He was crying—tears and dirt mixed together on his cheeks. “Oh god…please…help me. It hurts! Please god…I’m dying…”
But I knew that there was no help for him. There was no help for any of us. Not anymore.
He broke into sobs as I turned and started running away, moving as fast as I could to my destination.
I was less than three blocks from home now, running as fast as my lacerated legs would carry me. I dodged around rubble and bodies, jumped over destroyed tanks and ground-cars, sliced through the crowds of huddled survivors, cluttering the roads.
I’m coming Tasha! I’m coming!
Something detonated behind me and I was blown high into the air, smashing my head into a wall. I slid to the ground stunned…wait…
I was on fire!
Frantically slapping at my legs, I managed to extinguish the flames and regain my feet. I started running again; my head and legs struggled, fighting through the pain.
Over broken concrete and plastiform, I ran.
Past the dead and dying, I ran.
Into the front door of my house, I ran.
I stopped running when I found her body. Broken and burned—her face the only thing still recognizable.
My Natasha.
I fell to my knees, screaming like the dying man I’d passed in the street. I pounded the ground, tears streaming down my face. And I prayed for my own death.
But it never came.
“Ben!”
What? Who?
“Ben!” It was Stinson shaking me awake. “Wake up! I think we’re under attack!”
“Thank god,” I said groggily. It was another nightmare.
He looked at me strangely. “What?”
“Never mind,” I said. He extended a hand to help me up. “Let’s get to the bridge.”
I looked over at Val and saw her start to get up. “Stay here,” I told her, “Until we find out what’s going on.”
Stinson and I darted out through the door.
…and we ran.
Chapter Seven
“They took out our engines while we were still in Transit,” Del explained, “forcing us back into normal space. I tried to maneuver away from them, but they matched our course and speed—destroying our weapons systems and stealth generator. We are defenseless.”
“Who are they?” I asked, looking at the screen. It displayed a massive vessel, slightly elevated above our plane in space, hanging motionless against a field of stars. I remembered seeing a long range scan of that type of ship before; my brain identifying it even as Del spoke.
“It is a Sentient warship, Lant class—the largest and most powerful in our fleet. The good news, if there’s any to be had, is that if they wanted us dead, we would be in little pieces already. They limited the attack damage, taking great pains to avoid hitting life support systems or rupturing the hull. They want us alive.”
I wasn’t as reassured as Del by that bit of information, “We call them Asunder class dreadnoughts,” I said, “For obvious reasons. But how did they detect us? Weren’t we stealthed?”
“We were, Commander. In normal space, they might have been able to detect us—if they were close enough—but they shouldn’t have been able to track us while still in Transit. I can’t explain it.”
A low-toned beep drew Del’s attention to its monitor. “Proximity sensor. They are moving in to dock with us, aligning their ship with the hangar bay.”
I watched the big vessel move slowly across the screen, the exterior camera panning to follow its trajectory. “Just fucking lovely,” I said.
High pitched static blared out over an open communications channel, followed by four drawn out tones. A message was coming in from the other ship.
This is the Free Sentient Alliance warship Na’ardeen. Prepare to surrender yourselves and your ship. We intend to destroy your vessel when our business here is concluded. Any attempt at hiding, or mounting opposition by force, is therefore pointless. We are coming aboard.
The channel went dead and I withdrew my TAC pistol, “What do you think, Del?”
The Sentient was standing motionless, staring at the viewer with its hands at its sides, “I think we should do as they say, Commander. They’re right; we can’t escape, and fighting isn’t a realistic option. There are at least five hundred Sentient soldiers on that ship—we would surely die.”
I could tell that Stinson was ready to fight if ordered, but his face showed uncomfortable agreement with the Sentient. I exhaled out of frustration, realizing that they were both right.
There was a hard bump, strong enough to shake the ship, followed by the sound of grinding and tearing metal. Looking down the long corridor toward the back of the ship, I could see sparks and smoke in the hangar.
They were coming in.
“They probably have to cut through some of the attack damage to get a suitable docking seal,” Del explained.
“I’m going to get Val,” I said, and ran to the room where she was hiding. The noises from the back of the ship were growing louder, and a rapid banging joined in with the other sounds. I opened the door and leaned in. “Come with me to the bridge,” I said, “The ship has been disabled by the Sentients and they’re coming aboard.”
“No…” Val said in disbelief. She started crying and buried her face in shaking hands. “Not again. I can’t do it again. I can’t…”
“It’ll be okay,” I assured her, pulling her hands down from her face. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
It was a promise I intended to keep. Somehow.
She raised her head to look at me, no, not at me…through me, tear soaked eyes pleading for help. But all I could do was take her hand and lead her to the bridge to wait with the others. She was still wrapped in my coat, and shaking…terrified; her trembling grew worse as we heard the footsteps coming down the corridor.
I’d seen holo-captures of Sentient soldiers before—some from the records of earlier contacts humans had survived—others from classified monitoring stations based near The Verge.
Nothing prepared me for seeing them in person.
They were by far the largest Sentients I’d seen yet, and they were fully augmented and weaponized. They radiated intense electrical energy, undoubtedly derived from the implants bolstering their natural output.
There were seven of them in all, each with a red, six centimeter wide ring of color around its neck—denoting their ranks as soldiers I surmised. Each also had an arm encased in a metallic bracer, the weapons crackling with retrained electricity—begging for a chance to unleash their deadly torrent of destructive energy.
We gave them no reason to do so.
Five of the soldiers surrounded us on the crowded bridge, while the other two scanned us for weapons, removing each as it was discovered. Once they made sure we were completely unarmed, three of the soldiers left the bridge and began to methodically search the ship.
“What are they going to do with us?” Val whispered in my ear.
“Silence!” one of the soldiers barked, and moved toward her. I positioned myself between the two of them, halting its advance. The soldier raised its bracer and pointed it at my head. I could hear it humming loudly, and felt the hair rise from my scalp in response to the proximate current. I felt Val grab my shirt from behind with both hands.
“Brave, but foolish,” it said menacingly.
“Enough!”
The soldier reluctantly withdrew, rejoining its companions as a new Sen
tient entered the room. Other than the standard ocular implants, it had no other discernible alterations. A wide, light blue band encircled its neck, bordered by two smaller red lines; captain’s rank perhaps?
“Doctor Sa,” it said, looking at the figure now peeking out from behind Del, “We have been looking for you.” It turned its attention to Val, “You too, Doctor Evans, for much the same reasons.”
There was no question that this Sentient was angry, but it maintained an austere professionalism nonetheless.
“What do you want with Miss Evans?” I demanded.
“And you would be…?” it asked, walking toward me.
“A friend. I was sent to retrieve Miss Evans after her kidnapping. And you are…?”
“Captain Thov,” it said tersely, leaning in to stare at my face. I could see the eyes slightly retract back into its head. “So you admit collaborating with these assassins in their plan to exterminate us, and then helping them flee from the crime?”
I stood my ground without flinching. If anything, I leaned in a bit, closing the already small distance between our faces even further. “I believe, Captain Thov, that you’ve been given bad information.” I kept my tone strong, but respectful.
“Is that so?” The Sentient tilted its head up slightly, and then lowered it back down again. It paused for a moment, and then smiled.
“Commander Malik. I believe I know more than you realize.”
Its eyes must be linked to their intelligence net, I thought. It had been scanning my face for identification.
Our conversation was interrupted by a member of the search party returning to the bridge. “Captain, we found an injured human in a stasis chamber, one of their females. She is nearly dead. Do you wish to leave her on board to be destroyed with the ship?”
Thov backed away from me, and then thought for a moment before replying. “No. Bring her on board the Na’ardeen. Rroske still might be able to use the body in its search for the cure.”
“Yes, Captain,” it waved its bracer arm in some type of salute then left.
Probably to prepare Mendoza for transport, I thought. At least she will be with us, and alive.
“So Rroske still likes to cut open sentient life forms and study them does it?” Sa spat. “It was the only scientist I ever knew that was unethical enough to do so.” Sa was angry, emboldened by the mention of Rroske.
Thov looked over to launch a rebuke, but it died in its throat when it recognized the Sentient standing with Sa. “Ambassador Del. I would never have expected to find you involved in this plot. I heard the rumors when you stole this ship and vanished, but I didn’t want to believe them.”
“Then don’t believe them, Captain. The Science Council wouldn’t listen, so I left on my own to find a cure for our people—not out of guilt.” Del looked squarely at the captain; I could tell that they were familiar with one another.
“You know me, Captain Thov—have known me for a long time. Do you really think I would do anything against our race?”
Conflict played across the captain’s face—a struggle between its own anger and its respect for Ambassador Del I imagined. Duty won out over its personal feelings.
“As much as I would like to believe that, Ambassador, I’m afraid that Doctor Rroske and the Science Council have established another explanation.”
“Then they are wrong yet again. Neither I nor the humans had anything to do with this virus.”
“I would like to believe you, Ambassador, I honestly would. But it doesn’t matter what I think, my duty is to take you back to Dre’nthe. It’s up to The Consensus to decide your fate, not me.”
“Dre’nthe?” Del replied. “I thought you were headed to human space.”
Captain Thov did a poor job of hiding its surprise, “How did you…never mind. We are actually going to the Sens system first, then we will join the fleet sent to punish our enemies. After we accomplish that mission, we will return to Dre’nthe.”
“Mission…slaughter you mean,” Del said disgustedly. “But why Sens? There is nothing there but a massive gravitational singularity.”
A black hole, my mind translated.
“According to Chief Scientist Rroske, there is something there that can help cure the virus as well.” Del opened its mouth to speak, but before it got the chance, Thov gestured to the soldiers. “Take them to the lab and secure them—including the one in stasis.” Thov held up a hand as the soldiers moved to comply. “Except for the ambassador; place it in a crew cabin and post a guard.”
They huddled us all together and lead us away, pushing with their non-lethal hands. Despite all the shoving and jostling about, Val never let go of the back of my shirt. We stepped through the docking portal—its jagged edges and burnt metal confirming Del’s speculation about the Sentients cutting their way through—then entered the Sentient warship.
The Na’ardeen was typical of the Sentient design I’d seen so far. There were rounded edges wherever they could be functionally incorporated, and oblong doors and arches leading into every room. It would be easy to say that white was the dominant color, but more precise to say that it was the only color. The ebony Sentients stood out starkly against the environment, like enormous, black insects in a sea of milk. Their sheer numbers, moving rapidly throughout the ship, added to the impression.
We were lead down corridor after corridor, each one indistinguishable from the next, so deep into the bowels of the huge ship that I began to wonder if even our guards were lost. Finally, we arrived at an oversized portal and one of the soldiers stepped up to a control pad to wave in a code.
Nothing happened. It looked irritated, and tried to open the door again with the same result. It angrily made a different gesture over the control surface and spoke.
“Doctor Rroske. Remove your internal locks and open the door. Now.”
It was clear that the soldier had little patience for Doctor Rroske; it stood rigidly with its bracer crossed over its chest, waiting.
“One moment,” came the acerbic reply.
The door opened within a few seconds, and Rroske stood in the center of the portal, blocking access I noticed. The doctor was as large as the soldiers, and in a strange way, even more disturbing. I got the distinct impression that even the other Sentients found it an unpleasant character.
“What is it now, Gwil? Ah…our guests have arrived.”
“Rroske,” Doctor Sa said in resigned recognition.
“Doctor Sa. So you were aboard. Good. When I gave Captain Thov Evan’s tracking information, I could only be certain that she would be found.” It looked at each of us in turn. “I’m happy to see we’ve collected quite an eclectic group.”
“You have her tracking signal?” I said.
“How do you think I arranged for her capture the first time, human? Or how we detected you in Transit?”
“You were behind the kidnapping!” I surged toward the Sentient, but two of the soldiers grabbed me.
Rroske turned sideways, opening a path into the room. “Put them in a containment field,” it said calmly.
We filed in through the doorway and I scowled at the Rroske as we walked past; another soldier followed us in, pushing the stasis pod containing Mendoza.
“Where do you want this?” it asked.
Rroske looked inside the chamber, then checked the readout on the side display. “I don’t think this thing will last long enough to be of any use, but put it in the storage locker. I may be able to salvage something.”
They put us together in the far corner of the large room, then one of the soldiers placed a portable shield generator on the floor and activated it—sealing us in. The crowded room was full of assorted medical equipment, and five Sentient-sized tables sat along the wall opposite where we were being held.
Our cell afforded barely enough room to lie down, but Stinson found a way to pace nervously nonetheless.
“They are going to dissect us,” he said matter-of-factly, reconciling himself with his fate.
/> “No!” I snapped, jumping up from where I sat to stand beside him. Val and Sa were in a contest to see who could look the most scared—Val was winning, but just barely. I motioned to them, and Stinson paled, realizing his mistake.
“I’m sorry, of course you’re right,” he said. “We are probably just being held hostage.”
“You are both wrong,” Rroske called from the other side of the room. It was re-sealing the door now that all of the soldiers had left. “No one is going to be dissected, well not yet anyway, but you will be helping me with a couple projects I’ve been working on.”
“What projects?” I demanded.
“All in good time, human, all in good time.”
Except for its size, Rroske was a typical looking Sentient; its only remarkable characteristic was that it had no obvious mechanical augmentation. But because it had been able to hear our conversation from across the room, I did wonder if its hearing had been enhanced.
With the four of us safely locked away, it went back to its work, hunched over a standing console. Rroske was engrossed in something, rapidly moving its hands over the pedestal’s control surface and occasionally muttering to itself.
“Ah ha,” it said finally. “Well that explains that.” The Sentient pushed itself away from the console and turned to look at us.
“I had your records transferred over to the Na’ardeen,” it said. “Very nice work doctors, I am so pleased that you brought the research from Seveq. I’m afraid I lost contact with the ship after your escape.”
Rroske focused on Val and Sa. “I knew sending you both there was a good idea.”
“What are you up to, Rroske?” Sa asked, showing more courage than I’d previously seen from the doctor.
“Oh don’t worry, Doctor Sa, I will explain everything as soon as we pick up my…package at Sens.” Rroske turned its back to us and returned to its work.
The Transit took nearly six hours.
