Shadows of Mars (Broken Stars Book 1)

by I. O. Adler

  Her skin continued to itch. A phantom sensation, she knew, but couldn’t resist the need to touch her arms and shoulders as if to scratch a dry patch of skin.

  She walked to the opposite side of the sphere. The hallway took a moment to depressurize. With a thought she opened an external hatch. The last remnants of atmosphere puffed out of the airlock.

  The white hull of the Cordice home ship stood almost within reach.

  She disconnected the magnetic seal on the spindlebot’s feet and lunged forward, her hands and feet touching the neighboring craft’s hull and fixing to it. Then she crawled. The bot’s programming helped her move as if this were an action she had done dozens of times before. She crept on all fours and kept her head low, sidling along like a metal spider as she navigated the bent and broken section of ship and headed towards the Melded spacecraft.

  Her interface suggested three paths to access the Melded ship. One was the direct route, crawling to a point on the membrane where she felt confident she could tear through it and enter the Melded vessel’s forward airlock. She could also cross over the spine to another of the home ship’s airlocks, but that would take time. The third option was the fastest.

  She could jump to the hull of the Melded ship and access an auxiliary hatch.

  Mars’s smaller moon, Deimos, occupied the horizon beyond the intertwined wreck like a greenish-white river stone. Above her, below her, and to her sides was nothing but space. If she missed she’d fly off.

  Correction: the bot would fly off. The thought barely comforted her; the immersion was too perfect. But the ship brain that had provided the calculation wasn’t showing her how to destroy part of itself. The jump, according to the heads-up display, was as certain of a waypoint destination as a map app telling her to drive a block, make two right turns, and park at her destination.

  She jumped.

  Clack-clack-clack-clack.

  A perfect four-point landing.

  The surface felt slick and her hands barely clung to it even with the magnetic assist. Snatching at a brace, she found a fingerhold, pulled herself in, and leaped from spar to rung to array, using the ship’s cluttered exterior like a jungle gym.

  The exterior hatch wouldn’t open.

  She tapped the panel, pushed at what appeared to be a touchpad, and considered several recessed knobs and flush handles, wondering which would open the airlock.

  Apparently the harvester system didn’t have a translation unit for Melded ship architecture. The spindlebot might be strong enough to tear the hatch open, but then what?

  This was supposed to be a rescue mission. And how many more Melded might be on board? While the Primary Executive hadn’t hesitated to shoot Jenna, an escalation like killing the crew of an entire ship by exposing them to the vacuum of space would have repercussions. She decided to navigate to the membrane connecting the two vessels so she could enter via the main airlock. It would take time, and perhaps this one wouldn’t allow her access either, but it was the best alternative.

  Before she could move, the hatch popped open, venting a burst of gas before slowly yawning wide before her. She paused to peer inside. She hadn’t done anything to cause it to open. But if this was some automatic function on the Melded ship granting her access, she didn’t want to squander the opportunity. The auxiliary airlock wasn’t large and she’d need to scrunch down to get the spindlebot in. She didn’t hesitate. Once she was through the hatch the door closed again.

  Several screens blinked graphs and lights as air swirled around her.

  The interior door opened. A rounded hallway lay beyond lit by amber overhead lights, spacious compared to the Cordice home ship. Mismatched panels covered the walls and floor. Her feet found purchase on the gratings. She had one direction she could go. Someone had let her in and she needed to find out who and why. If they wanted to capture the spindlebot then she was going to go down fighting.

  The Melded ship had pressure and atmosphere. Was it compatible? Her display didn’t show and there wasn’t time to find out. Get Mom and then go for Jenna and her own body inside the medical bay. Hope that the spindlebot might stand up to the Melded weapons.

  She still had no idea what to do if she ran into Agent Barrett.

  A hatch at the end of the corridor opened as she approached, revealing a wide room laid out with a dozen flight couches not unlike the ones on board She Who Waits’ shuttle. A pair of larger ones were of sufficient size to accommodate a fat worm.

  All the portals exiting the space were closed save one, which opened into another room.

  Her mother stood inside. She looked up at her.

  “Hello, Carmen, you brave girl. You came for me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sylvia Vincent stepped into the doorway. She wore a gauze-thin, sheetlike gown that appeared to be made of the spider silk the cockroaches had used on Jenna’s leg.

  Carmen took a moment to search her sensors to confirm there was air inside the Melded vessel. Stifled a curse as new screens kept popping up into her field of vision. She dismissed them.

  “Mom, can you breathe?”

  “Of course.”

  Her mom tried to reach out to her but she was tethered to something restricting her movement. Lines like electric cords ran to her back, arms, and legs as if she were a marionette at the end of her strings.

  “I’d hug you,” Sylvia said, “but it appears we’re both not quite ourselves.”

  She retreated into her room, the filaments and tubes connected to her going slack and trailing on the floor.

  Carmen hurried to the doorway in case it might close and locked her hand inside the portal. Her mom went to a low bench and sat. Her empty cylinder stood nearby along with a pair of machines where the cords were attached. One of the machines hummed while the second hissed and pumped dark fluid towards her through a translucent tube.

  A brilliant violet light radiated down from the ceiling. It deepened the shadows on her mom’s face and reflected on a patch of metal fixed to the back of her skull where the hair had been shaven off.

  A bloated bug the size of a house cat sat on top of a console and was operating a virtual display. It stared at Carmen with one of its eyestalks as its many small arms continued to tap at the phantom keys.

  “What is it doing to you?”

  Her mom gave her a tranquil smile. “It’s okay, honey. I’m okay. The Melded doctor is helping me.”

  “Helping you—wait, what? I’m here to get you out of here. What doctor?”

  “Why, this little fellow. We only have the rough Melded translator computer going, so I don’t have a name from him yet. I’m not sure he has one. So ‘Doctor’ will have to do.”

  “I’m taking you out of here.”

  Sylvia took up one of the slack cords onto her lap as if tidying up. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

  Carmen could reach the bug in an instant, crush it, tear the cords from the machine. But what were they doing to her?

  She tried to summon the loudest voice she could. “Hey, Doctor! Let her go or I tear your ship apart!”

  The bug kept staring with its one eye as the other eye remained glued to the screen.

  “You think I’m joking?”

  Carmen stepped into the room and brought her free hand down on one of the machines. It smashed the frame and caused several lights to start blinking wildly. This got the bug’s full attention and it raised a dozen tiny arms and a quartet of wings as if trying to make itself look bigger.

  “Honey, stop!” Sylvia shouted. “Can’t you see they’re fixing me? If you break that it will cost us hours. You already damaged their ship and the diagnostics are taking longer than expected. Just calm down. Why are you even here with the spindlebot? I almost didn’t let you in until the ship computer identified you.”

  “What do you mean you let me in? They have you prisoner.”

  “We haven’t talked enough for you to know everything. The Primary Executive might be a bully, but it can be reasone
d with, when you take the time to understand where it’s coming from. So knock it off with this foolishness. There’s too much at stake for you to be acting the child.”

  Crazy. Her mom had gone crazy. “The Primary Executive shot Jenna.”

  This got her mom’s attention. “What do you mean?”

  “The worm was raging when we wouldn’t surrender the harvester without giving you up first. She’s barely hanging on. These people aren’t your friends!”

  “I didn’t say they were. Just a moment. I’ll speak with the Primary Executive.”

  “Wait. Don’t tell that creep I’m here. I’m still on board the Cordice ship inside their medical bay.”

  “Carmen, honey, I’m sure the Primary Executive’s already figured that out when you showed up on board their ship. Now let me talk to the Primary. And hand over the harvester. It will solve all of this. Trust me.”

  Carmen felt a jolt of anxiety run down her spine and almost disconnected from the spindlebot. She wanted to run and hide until the nightmare ended. She’d wake up in bed with her sister fine, her nephews wanting her as a babysitter, and her dad needing his dishes washed while her mom was away on some mission but coming back, always coming back.

  With a thought she focused on her body. Disconnecting would be as easy as a thought. The med bay and its machines hummed around her. The blustering voice of the Primary Executive boomed. Warm air circulated from the medical bed beneath her.

  She could release, unlock, and end it all by handing the ship over.

  “I can’t give it to them. Not until they let you go.”

  “As you can see, I’m not a prisoner. When the Cordice rescued Lieutenant Townes and me, I was suffering hypoxia and my heart had stopped. They got us stabilized before uploading us to the simulation. But my body was never fixed.” She flexed a hand. Touched the back of her head. “But the Melded are getting me back on my own feet. We can do the same for Hamish. They’ll fix Jenna. The Primary Executive is only doing what it has to because the Cordice are a divided people and they hold the key to any of us surviving.”

  “But the harvester doesn’t belong to the Melded.”

  “It will now. I took it so I could bring you and Jenna here. We use the harvester and fix the rest of the ships of the Framework. Then we do what none of the red shifters would dare to try…we take the fight to the enemy.”

  “Why would you bring us here?”

  “I know what happened to Earth. I studied what the enemy did while inside the simulation. The only reason our planet survived was that they didn’t stick around to finish the job. That doesn’t mean they’re not throwing rocks our way as we speak. Because what they did to our planet was an afterthought when they attacked the refugee fleet. The only reason the Framework survived was because they were running late to the rendezvous and none of their ships had antimatter drives to attract attention. But we can get what remains of the Framework fixed up enough and survive to fight the next battle. And this one will be on our terms. We need the harvester.”

  “We? You talk like you’re one of them.”

  “I’m no more a Melded than you are a robot. But that doesn’t mean we should sit back meekly and let these aliens make our choices for us. The Melded have the technology to preserve my life and I accept it, just like you’ve considered the ear implants we’ve talked about.”

  “It’s a little different, Mom.”

  “You know what I mean. The Cordice own a ship more advanced than any of the Framework races possess. They were going to flee without helping the rest of the survivors. Without it, rebuilding and preparing the remaining ships within an adequate timeframe isn’t possible. Anyone left will be forced to scatter and hide only to be hunted down. This is the last chance any of us will ever have of uniting in the face of our foe.”

  “What about Earth? You went through all this trouble just to bring Jenna and me here? Have you forgotten Dad? And Zach and Landon?”

  “We’ll save who we can. But there’s so little time. Do as I say and let go of the harvester. You won’t be hurt. I’ll be sure Jenna is brought straight here and made better.”

  “You still haven’t explained why all of this can’t be done with the Cordice helping. The harvester is theirs. They saved you and Lieutenant Townes. Their caretaker may be broken but they’re not evil. So why are the Melded here to take the harvester by force?”

  “Because the Cordice take too long in making their decisions. And before I stole the harvester they were about to leave the Framework to its fate. It’s that simple. We’re in a fight for our lives. You know what the Melded call the ones who are content to fly from system to system to hide until they’re flushed out by the enemy? Burrowers. Like a gopher digging down to evade a nuclear bomb. I don’t understand your reluctance. You want me safe? Here I am. Stop being obstinate.”

  “You’re saying all this with wires stuck in your head attached to a Melded machine. Is that even you? When you first picked us up you were confused. How do I know it hasn’t happened again?”

  “Another quiz, honey?”

  “No. I’m too tired for all that. But it’s not adding up. I told you the Primary Executive shot Jenna. You barely reacted. If I give the ship back to them, what guarantee do I have they won’t just kill us?”

  Sylvia Vincent dropped the cord in her lap and stood up. “You’re being melodramatic. I’m safe. You are too. Jenna will be made better and then we can spend as much time as needed talking.”

  She looked down at her mom’s face. It was her eyes, her skin, her voice. If she were a simulation or an animated puppet or a terminator wearing her skin, she wouldn’t be so perfectly confounding. Something about their exchange reminded Carmen of that Saturday night dinner.

  I’m going to Mars.

  It was as if she were about to make a new announcement, had set the table and placed the pasta and salad before them, had the parmesan cheese ready along with the basket of steaming hot garlic bread.

  What wasn’t she telling her?

  All Carmen had to do was unplug. Releasing the ship would be as simple as leaving a door open for the Primary Executive.

  She opened her eyes. It took a moment to adjust. She still saw what her bot saw—her mom, the Melded operating room, the bug doctor—while simultaneously seeing her bed and the racks of Cordice machinery in the home ship medical bay.

  She kept her voice as soft as possible. “She Who Waits, I need you.”

  A moment later, the Dragoman appeared next to her bed.

  “It’s important. I’m going to go to the Cordice simulation. Help me speak to them. Can you do that?”

  She winced as the telltale red light popped into view. There would be no hiding the fact they were communicating. She could only hope the big worm and his flunkies were distracted. Or they were waiting on Sylvia Vincent to convince her wayward daughter to give them what they wanted.

  When a third field of vision crossed her eyes it was too much. She let go of the bot and allowed the medical bay to fade even as she heard the Primary Executive bark. The worm was close, and getting closer.

  She only had a moment before it would be on her.

  Burning rocks rained on the Cordice capital. The sky broiled in rings of steam. The last act of their civilization unfolded and it was as harrowing as the first time she had witnessed it.

  “I don’t have time to see this. I need to talk to you.”

  The largest of the Cordice habitats, large drums housing millions, were fractured by missiles of carbon and ice hurtling from the blackness like runaway starships. The blazing battering rams obliterated everything they touched. A handful of ships attempted to flee past plumes of smoke rising into the stratosphere.

  “Stop! I know what happened to your world. You’ll lose the last of what you have if you don’t let me speak. Is the engineer here? Are you listening?”

  A comet with a tail of flame was about to strike the mountains near the city. The survivors of the initial stage of the disaster gathered
in a park and huddled together, helplessly watching their end approach.

  The scene froze.

  Whereas last time Carmen could only see the disaster from a distant vantage point, she now caught a zoomed-in glimpse of the Cordice themselves. A layer of soft green was laid out on top of each of the metal frames. Some were four-legged, while others stood upright on two and a few ran about like centipedes of various sizes. Each colony of fungal growth was an individual with a consciousness unique to itself.

  With the selection of any of the simulation’s interfaces, she could learn so much more, live out hundreds, no, billions of lives in ways too wonderful for her body and mind to fully understand. There were sights, smells, tastes, and so many kinds of touch along with new words for senses she didn’t possess. But also there was music, symphonies of whispers and sagas told in the First Caves beneath the lofty spires of granite.

  She could learn their music and bring her own. Hear it. Feel it. Play and be heard.

  “Join us.”

  Not the engineer. A new voice.

  “I am the historian. I’m glad we could speak. Your mother introduced you and your sister to us and we are waiting.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We can release your mother to the Melded as that is her wish. But first they require our harvester. It is a small price to pay for our continued existence. Then our new worlds can be a home to you, your sister, and any of your kind who wish to come if they are ready.”

  “Where’s the other guy? The engineer?”

  “I am facilitating communications now.”

  “And it’s the wish of your people for me to give the Melded the harvester?”

  There was a garble as if several voices were trying to speak at once. It took the historian a moment to answer. “It is our wish.”

  More voices, but these didn’t sound like they were on the same channel as the historian. They were in the room with her, inside the medical bay. She Who Waits was speaking, as was the Primary Executive.