Those belonging to the Order who hadn’t left with the Archimandrite were preparing to depart using their own modes of transport. From the look of things, the cult intended to abandon the outpost completely. It wouldn’t matter if the Adeona passed on their message to the Ministry. By the time their teams got here, they’d find nothing but a wasteland of empty shacks and corrupted hard drives.
The cultists who’d been tasked with bringing the LX-14s online hurriedly powered down the terminals on the metal stage in the centre of the crater; one member extracted an activation chip from the machine and secured it to a belt tied around his middle. A pair of smaller transport shuttles branded with the Negoti logo had been retrieved from their freighter counterparts and parked behind the twin battalions. The wide ramps at their rear were open, and, given orders at last, the LX-14s were dutifully marching inside.
Jack almost tripped up in his surprise. He did a double-take, sure that the floodlights and their shadows were playing tricks on him. But no, he was right – the automata strike force was marching. The acolytes had brought their data cores online while the crew of the Adeona were busy eavesdropping on their boss.
Jesus. If any of them saw Klik racing towards their masters with a rifle in her hands…
“Klik!” He screamed into the microphone in his helmet so hard he almost blew his throat out. “Stop running, goddammit!”
She seemed to slow down, though her lean, springy physique meant she had pulled too far ahead for him to really tell. If she replied, he didn’t hear her over the steady rumble of the starship’s thrusters.
“Can you hear me?” His raw voice cracked with the effort. “For Christ’s sake, get into cover, Klik. They’re going to see you!”
“What?” came Klik’s voice over comms, painfully loud and clear. Jack winced and flexed his jaw, hoping it would un-pop his ears.
“Drop, now!”
He watched as Klik dived into the nearest rocky pit. And not a second too soon, either. One of the acolytes standing beside the right-hand shuttle spotted her and fired off a couple of shots with her snub-nosed pistol. The first ballistic round blew up a cloud of grit inches from Klik’s helmet. The other whizzed over the top of her makeshift foxhole and almost caught Rogan in the shin, who was charging in like a steam train behind.
One by one they joined Klik in the trench. Jack had his own pistol at the ready, but he chose not to return fire. By the look of things, the LX-14s boarding the shuttles hadn’t switched to combat mode yet. He wanted to keep it that way – even if it meant letting their assailants escape.
He rolled onto his back and watched as the Archimandrite’s cathedral crept further into the heavens. In the absence of an atmosphere, the ship was picking up speed. In a minute’s time, Jack doubted it would be visible from down on the asteroid at all.
“Shouldn’t we fight back?” asked Tuner, who’d lost his own rifle at some point during their escape.
“No!” Jack reached across and grabbed the little guy’s arm. “We shouldn’t be fighting these people at all!”
The last two LX-14s boarded the shuttles, each snapping into uniformed position beside the rest of their battalion. Their movements were far more mechanical and stilted than Rogan’s or Tuner’s, Jack noticed. He wondered if any of them possessed enough true sentience to understand what was happening to them.
The ramps grumbled up and locked shut with the solid crunch. Jack relaxed slightly. Good. That was five hundred fewer things to worry about.
He ducked as another ballistic round transformed the grit in front of him into a miniature geyser, and remembered that they weren’t in the clear quite yet.
The two shuttles rose from the asteroid on twin thrusters swivelling gracefully on their flanks. The few acolytes who hadn’t climbed on board alongside the LX-14s made a hasty retreat towards the last couple of personal starships parked over on the other side of the compound.
“Good riddance,” said Jack. “Let them leave. With them gone, we can wait safely until Adi gets here.”
“Yes, about that.” Rogan stared in horror at something over on their far left. “We might want to think about leaving, too.”
Jack followed her gaze and felt his innards adopt the foetal position.
“Oh, bollocks. That’s not good.”
One of the two freighters was rising sluggishly from the crater’s elevated ridge. This alone wouldn’t have been an altogether worrying sight. It was a ship, after all. But none of its colossal thrusters were online. It was simply drifting loose from its parking spot, as if the thousand-tonne vessel weighed nothing at all.
“The Archimandrite’s ship must have been projecting an artificial gravity field over the asteroid,” said Rogan, a panicked sharpness to her voice. “We can’t stay here. With no gravity, we’ll get thrown off this rock along with everything else!”
Other artefacts started to float upwards, even objects down inside the crater where the residual gravity was supposed to be strongest. Empty cans of protein, data pads – Jack was starting to think the lightness in his belly wasn’t entirely due to nerves, too.
He let out a frustrated groan and scanned the crater for a way out. He found one. The solution was simple, really. The fleeing acolytes were headed for the two ships still tethered to the asteroid. All Jack needed to do was get to one of them before they did.
Unfortunately, the cultists had a head start.
Fortunately, it’s never easy to run in a robe, no matter how many legs you’ve got. And he still had modified air boosters in his suit from back when he snuck aboard a Mansa supply convoy. With low gravity and even lower atmosphere, the issue wouldn’t be catching up – it would be keeping himself from launching off the asteroid altogether.
“Okay, change of plan.” Jack rose to his feet and was surprised by how little energy it took. “Don’t let those bastards leave!”
Klik beamed.
“Now that’s more like it!”
They charged through the cultist base towards the parked ships on the far side. Each step flung Jack forward a good few metres at a time, yet he barely had to expend any energy at all. Had they not been running for their lives, he would have bloody loved it. It made him feel like he was one of the first astronauts on the Moon, or something.
Even without any form of propulsive aid, Klik and Rogan kept easy pace beside him. Tuner was a little less coordinated. Rogan led him by the hand as per usual, and thanks to the reduced gravity he bounded up and down along the rocks behind her like a child’s helium balloon.
A dozen metres to one side of Jack, one of the comm station’s satellites snapped loose from its pylon and spun out towards the stars. None of the buildings had any permanent foundations, Jack realised. He wondered how long it would take before the hut itself jettisoned off into space, too.
Longer than it would take him, he reckoned.
One of the acolytes must have felt the thud of their footsteps coming up behind them – as the atmosphere depleted alongside the gravity, sound on the asteroid was becoming increasingly muffled and muted – because it spun around and fired a manic couple of shots back in their direction. Both missed thanks to the gun’s exaggerated recoil. The hooded figure gave up and continued its desperate sprint towards the ships.
There were now only a few dozen metres between Jack and the two spacecraft. There had been a third – a rather flashy blue personal-cruiser model sporting a pair of thin, yellow stripes – but it was already high above the spinning rock, its pilot swinging its nose to point towards the larger cosmos. A second later, it blinked off into subspace.
Jack pushed his muscles harder. He was not going to die floating out into the abyss. Not after a year of hiding out in a goddamn marshland.
The remaining two ships looked as if they had considerably more miles on the clock than the one which had already left, with the dents and flecked paintwork to prove it. Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and at least one of them had enough space inside for four crew members. Es
pecially if one of those crew members was small enough to be squeezed inside a footlocker.
Twenty-something metres now.
Three acolytes remained. A pair of them clambered into the smaller of the two spacecraft – a twin-seater better suited for cruising inside a planet’s atmosphere than jumping across whole star systems. Still, it must have had a rudimentary skip drive somewhere on board. The transparent dome of its cockpit slammed into place and the tethers keeping the ship grounded snapped off. It gently floated upwards, leaving only the one ship – and the one acolyte – behind.
The greedy nut job was taking the whole interceptor for himself!
Eleven metres. Ten…
The right side of the ship’s cockpit window swung decrepitly upward as the acolyte approached. A metal foot-rail ran along the side of the interceptor’s undercarriage; the acolyte stepped up, grabbed the lip of the cockpit, and started to climb.
Six metres. Five…
Jack had barely reached the foot of the ship when Rogan ploughed into the side of its hull, knocking the acolyte loose. It tumbled down to the ground in slow-motion, frantically reaching inside its robe for its gun. Rogan didn’t give the hooded alien a chance. She grabbed them by the cloak and flung them far back the way they came.
“Quick,” said Jack. “Everybody hop up!”
He wished he’d chosen a phrase which couldn’t be taken quite so literally.
Klik jumped, apparently not content to wait for Rogan to dump Tuner onto one of the exposed seats first. She must have forgotten that a lack of gravity would augment her launch, however, because she cleared the cockpit by a good four or five metres and floated off towards the distant stars.
“Klik! Klik!”
Jack screamed her name because there was nothing else he could do. If he jumped, they’d both be stuck pinwheeling out into the wider galaxy. But she had her spacesuit – as long as they could catch up with her, she’d be okay.
He hoped.
“Hurry!” he yelled, climbing up after Rogan. “If we don’t take off soon, we’ll lose sight of her!”
Jack flung himself inside the cockpit, sat down in the pilot’s chair, and studied the controls.
They were like nothing he’d ever seen before. There wasn’t a flight stick. There wasn’t even an ignition switch.
“I don’t know how to fly this,” he muttered to himself in disbelief.
“Oh, step aside,” said Rogan, pushing him onto the passenger chair instead. She climbed around the seat and prodded at the dashboard’s interface. “Bring the systems online, Tuner.”
“Guys?” Klik sounded terrified. Her voice quivered. “Guys, I can’t stop. I don’t know where I am. Everything’s moving too fast.”
“We’re coming for you, Klik,” said Jack. “Don’t panic. Just spread your arms out wide and try to slow yourself down.”
He turned to Rogan and whispered, “Will that help?”
“In a vacuum?” Rogan shook her head. “Not much. Might give her something to focus on, though.”
Tuner flicked a few switches at the rear of their cramped compartment and the ship’s engine hummed to life. The cockpit window snapped down into place and the tethers retracted. Jack felt the ship start to rise all by itself.
“I can’t see her,” he said, staring out the windows in search of Klik. “I can’t see her!”
“I can,” said Rogan, confidently. She typed some instructions into the dashboard and the ship lurched forward. “Stay calm, for bolts’ sake. You’re going to need to catch her.”
Catch her? Jack tried to swallow and found his throat too dry. This didn’t sound good.
The ship must have been travelling a lot quicker than it looked, because soon enough Jack spotted a small, grey figure spinning around amongst the otherwise empty blackness. With her arms and legs spread out wide, she looked like an armoured starfish.
“Hey!” Klik tried waving as they drew closer, though the movement only seemed to make her rotation all the more unpredictable. “Is that you? Can you see me? I feel sick.”
“Everything’s fine,” said Jack, pressing his helmet against the cockpit window as they drew level with her. “We’re going to get you inside.”
He turned to Rogan and grimaced.
“How are we going to get her inside?” he asked.
“I’m going to open the cockpit door and you’re going to reach out and pull her in,” Rogan replied, pressing a single button on the dashboard rather pointedly.
The right side of the cockpit window swung open again. Jack found himself sitting inches from space. Rogan reduced the ship’s speed to match Klik’s, then brought it as close to her as she could. Bumping into Klik likely wouldn’t hurt her, but it would result in them needing a whole new set of calculations.
Jack reached out as far as he could, and asked Klik to do the same. She let out an angry sob.
“I’m already stretched out as far as I can go, you idiot!”
This was true. The problem wasn’t that she wouldn’t stretch, exactly – it was that she wouldn’t stretch in the right direction. Unable to focus on Jack or the ship, Klik was stuck spinning around and around like a flailing cosmic tumbleweed.
“It’s getting pretty chilly in here,” said Tuner, as crystals of ice started building up over his head.
Jack gave up trying to grab hold of Klik’s hand and settled for a foot instead. After a few near misses – one of which very nearly knocked Klik even further off-course – he finally hooked his finger around one of the buckles on the back of her boot. Rogan had to quickly grab Jack’s other arm to stop him from getting dragged out of the ship with her. It was a close call. Rogan was starting to frost over, too.
“Yes!” cried Jack as he was pulled in two directions at once. “I’ve got her! Help me pull her back in!”
Rogan got them both back inside the interceptor with one almighty yank. The cockpit door snapped down shut and the ice inside began to melt. Oxygen and nitrogen started hissing through the vents again.
Klik was breathing so fast, the bottom half of her visor was completely fogged up. Her black eyes bulged and swivelled all around the cockpit; her mandibles clicked and fluttered against the glass.
“It’s okay,” said Jack, pressing his helmet against hers. “We’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head against his shoulder. For a second, Jack didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Klik had never hugged him before. She wasn’t exactly a fan of physical affection. Or any affection, for that matter. And yet here she was, practically whimpering.
Then he remembered himself and squeezed her tight.
“It’s all right,” he said, patting her on the back. “It’s all right.”
Her breathing steadied, yet she kept her head buried where it was. Rogan and Tuner watched with silent sympathy.
“Can… can somebody tell me when it’s safe to take off my helmet again?” she asked, her words hitching in time with her chest.
“Of course,” said Jack. “Shouldn’t be long now.”
“Thank you,” she sniffed loudly. “I think I’ve been a little bit sick.”
12
The Best Lead We’ve Got
The Adeona jolted out of subspace into a system she’d never visited before. This didn’t concern her. She’d never been there before because there was nothing there worth visiting.
Stars sucked into existence around her. Not much else did. A few asteroids here and there, and that was about it besides a small, orange sun burning softly in the distance.
She activated all of her long-range scanners and waited. This was fine. Much of a sentient ship’s life is spent waiting, particularly at docks and ports. If someone were to ask Adi – which nobody ever did – she would have said she was rather good at it.
The Adeona wasn’t annoyed at having to come and get them. She was perfectly content to do that. No, she was simply annoyed that she needed to – that her crew had gone and l
eft her behind in the first place.
Going from Point A to Point B was what she was built for, after all. It wasn’t as if she could join the crew on their missions after they disembarked. If she wasn’t the one shepherding them about, then what use was she to anyone?
Adi could handle the loneliness that came with being a ship. It was not being treated like part of the crew that hurt.
She got a ping. Tuner’s signal flashed right on the very periphery of her scanners. For the Adeona, it was like catching sight of something out the corner of her eye. If it had only been the two automata, she might have pretended not to see them – made them wait a little longer just to prove a point. But Jack and Klik were there, too. She didn’t feel any less bitter towards them, but she hardly wanted two asphyxiated fleshies on her conscience either.
That would constitute a marginal overreaction, in her opinion.
She raced towards Tuner’s signal at a velocity that would have been almost imperceptible to anybody unfortunate enough to be standing beside her, but which to Adi was no more taxing than a light jog. It took less than twenty seconds to reach them.
The Adeona couldn’t laugh. She literally couldn’t laugh. It was too organic an emotional response for a starship to express. But that didn’t stop her from finding the sight before her highly amusing.
Before her floated one of the worst pieces of junk she’d ever seen outside a scrapyard. It had no paint, and not in a, “I’m a very serious battlecruiser” sort of way. More like, “I’m a burned-out husk abandoned outside a destruction derby.” She was surprised it still flew. Then again, maybe it didn’t – the thrusters were offline, even if the lights inside its cockpit weren’t.
Quite frankly, the vehicle was an embarrassment to ships everywhere and deserved to be launched into the nearest star. It was what she saw inside the ship that brightened her mood, however.
The four members of her crew were alive and, much to her delight, remarkably uncomfortable. The cockpit had been designed with two passengers in mind. Jack and Rogan were sat in the seats up front with their arms tucked against their sides. Klik was squeezed into the cramped cubby hole behind them where luggage would normally go – one of her boots stuck out awkwardly over the top of Jack’s shoulder. Adi couldn’t detect Tuner at first, which was odd given it was his signal that brought her there. Then she realised he was stretched out along the ship’s dashboard, pushed up against the glass. Short of clambering down to the storage compartments on the outside hull of the interceptor, there wasn’t anywhere else for him to go.
The Tin Soldiers (Final Dawn, Book 5) Page 10
