Call of Courage: 7 Novels of the Galactic Frontier
Page 126
The woman quickly exited the room, looking like she too might be sick. Once she was in the hall, she composed herself. The woman looked both ways and turned towards the corridor leading straight into the largest group of creatures. Don't go that way, don't go that way, Lothis chanted in his mind. This way, he thought, switching on the lights behind her. She stopped and turned, seeming puzzled. Lothis was so focused on her image, on her presence in his mind, that he glimpsed she was worried about what was operating the lights. That can’t be right . There is no way I can sense that. Just an intellectual guess, he decided, pulling up a new menu on the terminal. I will guide you, he thought, flashing the lights in such a way she would know intelligence was behind it.
Responding, the woman began following the path he laid out. It was extremely complicated to route her through the complex. Several packs of creatures were roaming around, searching for prey that didn't exist—except for the woman. A couple times, he was forced to change her path at the last second. Had he been any slower, the woman and a pack would have collided.
Her journey was long and circuitous, but he finally managed to bring her to the secure room adjoining his own. It wasn't that he didn't trust her. I just have to proceed cautiously. The cell he had occupied—the cocoon that had been his world—now gave him perspective on the immense scope of things. There was a lot happening, and he felt most comfortable when he had sufficient time to analyze and absorb it.
The woman was reluctant to enter the room though, pausing outside the door. Get inside, he thought, worried about the pack of creatures coming around the nearest corner. Lothis looked at her image intently, trying hard to think of a way to urge her inside. In his mind, he coaxed her to enter. After a second or two, she did. Lothis thought it an interesting but insignificant coincidence. She just needed time to make sure it was safe.
Now, Lothis couldn't decide what to do next. He had spoken little previously. Will she be able to understand me? Before Lothis could begin though, the woman spoke, “Who are you? Why have you brought me here?” He started to form a response, but she beat him again, “Are you A.I.? Are you part of Ashamine Command? What happened in this facility?” She paced around the room, making Lothis anxious.
This time she was quiet long enough for him to reply. Lothis selected the menu item activating his audio sensor and tried to speak. “I... I... am... Lo… Lothis,” he said, voice sounding feeble to his own ears. He cleared his throat. Lothis concentrated hard on the words and continued, although his voice was still monotone. “I'm not A.I. I do not know what happened here, but I need help. That is why I have been assisting you. I do not know how I came here, but I was held captive. Will you help me?”
The woman thought for a moment, then replied, “I would be glad to aid you, but I need to know where you are. It would also be helpful to know how to get out of the facility, which after the trip you took me on, I bet you have figured out.”
Lothis thought over the situation once again, afraid to place his safety in the hands of another after he’d just won his freedom. I don’t have a choice, he thought. She was the only way out of this wretched place. He didn't know for sure there was more to the world than this facility, but there had been more to the world than his room, so it was a logical deduction.
The woman must have sensed his internal struggle, because she kept silent, waiting patiently. His mental debate consumed him a few moments longer, but the choice was inevitable. He activated the audio sensor, speaking again, “I am in the adjoining room. I’ll unlock the door.”
She entered his small room, her height slightly taller in person than the console screen suggested. Her light brown hair was tied back in a pony tail and her emerald green eyes burned with fire. Lothis shrank back, her visage and combat gear frightening him so much he fell off his chair. He scurried away, barely noticing the look of concern that had come over her.
“No, honey,” she cooed, “No, don't be afraid. I'm here to help. I won't hurt you, wouldn't dream of it. We're gonna get you out of here straight away. I'm going to need your help though. This place is full of those monsters and I don't know the way out.”
“I… I… I am Lothis,” was all he could say in response. He backed himself into a corner and huddled into a ball, scrawny arms clutching his bony legs. The woman crouched over him and began smoothing his hair, her touch gentle. Lothis didn't understand the gesture or what it meant, but it did make him feel better.
“I'm Felar,” the woman said after a minute. “It's nice to meet you, Lothis. We are both going to get out of here, I promise you that. It will take us working together to do it, but I know we can.”
“Thank you,” he responded, voice still small but lacking the stutter. “I will do everything I can.” Lothis didn't know how he was able to converse with the woman so well, but so far she seemed to understand him. Does she think I’m weird?
“Good, good,” Felar said, voice still calm and gentle. “I assume you have access to the computer systems? Can you show me a map? Do you have a way to track those monsters?” Lothis showed her the console he had used earlier. After a minute of watching the creatures move on the small screen, Felar was ready to go. “Can you run?” she asked, eying his scrawny frame.
“Yes—very well,” Lothis answered. He felt a new sensation, a burning in his cheeks. He hadn't taken notice of his personal appearance before this moment, but now it felt important. How did I miss something so vital? What else am I missing even now?
“OK, well I think our best bet in this gamble is speed. We need to avoid those creatures and get out as fast as possible. I need you to run as hard as you can and keep up with me, OK? I know you can do it.” By this time, they were almost to the outside hallway door. As she reached for the handle, a thought seemed to strike Felar. Lothis watched her return to the computer.
“Founder blight their hearts. It's not right. What were these people doing?” she said under her breath. Lothis barely heard her and didn't understand what she meant.
“What?” he prompted, voice lowering to match hers.
“Nothing,” Felar answered at a normal volume, “I was just talking to myself.” Lothis didn't understand why someone would talk to themselves when thinking was infinitely faster, but he didn’t say anything, knowing this was not the time to ask. “Damn it,” she said after a moment. Lothis looked at the terminal screen and saw “Access Restricted” flashing in big red letters.
Lothis, eager to help, stepped over and motioned Felar to let him have the terminal. She did so, and he began hashing the machine. Before long, he was into the restricted system. Lothis moved aside, wondering what she was interested in. Felar scrolled through the information, reading at a pace Lothis thought quite slow.
“Founder blight their hearts,” she repeated, only this time it was in awe. Lothis found this phrase no easier to understand than her previous self-speech, but he kept silent, assuming she would explain if explanation was needed. Apparently it wasn't, because Felar pulled a small shiny square out of one of her combat vest pockets and pushed it into a slot on the terminal. She selected items on the screen and sat back. The square blinked a couple of times and the terminal chirped a notification. Felar retrieved the square, returning it to her pocket.
“It's time to go,” she said, voice carrying an emotional edge Lothis couldn't identify. They walked towards the door again, but now Felar had resolve in her step, her eyes burning more ferociously than before. Lothis wasn't scared though. He knew the fire wasn't directed at him and would soon be burning those who tried to hurt him.
As Felar opened the door, she grabbed Lothis' hand. The boy felt another surge of reassurance and wellbeing overtake him. They were good feelings and Lothis savored them, as if they were a flavor on his tongue. But before he could fully appreciate the subtleties of these new emotions, Felar started running.
26 - Maxar
Maxar felt the loss of Benson more acutely than anyone else he’d watch die on Bloodsport. The way he’d been killed right
in front of Maxar was ordinary, but Benson had been a true friend in a place barren of that commodity. Maxar’s other teammates had been comrades-in-arms, but none brought a smile to his face or made a brutal day bearable the way Benson had.
He wished he could have given his friend a proper burial, but there had been no time to retrieve what was left of him. In the end, he knew Benson would care little one way or the other regarding his remains. He would have wanted Maxar to escape rather than retrieve his body if it meant capture. Nothing I can do about it now, was Maxar's mantra on the short trip from the Bloodsport asteroid to its orbital dock.
Looking out of the shuttle's large view window, Maxar watched the dock draw nearer and nearer. He hoped the disappearance of this small craft would go unnoticed in the chaos exploding over the asteroid. He’d have to deal with the dock's security force soon enough. A tough job even if they aren’t alerted.
The lights in the cabin seemed to dim, and Maxar stiffened. Then, he realized something had eclipsed the light of the primary star. He turned to look out the large side window—no expense had been spared in the creation of this lavish transport—and saw several enormous bi-pyramidal shapes silhouetted by the primary star.
The sight filled Maxar with awe and fear. Up until recently, at least if the terminal news was true, the Enthos had been quite ineffectual at battle and war, but things changed a short while ago. Now they were fighting back using alien weaponry the human scientists had no way to counteract. They hardly even understood it, theorizing the species had some sort of group mind they brought to bear with devastating results. How do you fight against telekinesis and mind weapons? Until a defense could be developed, the Enthos had attained offensive equality with their tetragonal bi-pyramid ships.
Maxar stared at the Entho tetra ships for a moment longer until he was sure they weren't tracking a course for his shuttle, Bloodsport, or the orbital dock. Their arrival caused chaos that allowed him to get this far, but he didn't want those ships coming any closer. Too much chaos, even for me.
“Shuttle 2489, please state your passenger manifest and pass-code,” came over the cabin speakers.
Dammit to the black star, he thought, I should have prepared for this . Maxar cast off the self-incriminations and thought as quickly as he could, knowing time was critical. Definitely can’t transmit my real name. They would have a record of that. And as for a pass-code, he had none.
“Shuttle 2489, please state your passenger manifest and pass-code. This is your second prompt,” came again over the cabin speakers. Apparently, their operating procedures mandated a quicker response than he’d hoped.
More time dragged by, and then Maxar thought of a reply with a chance of getting him inside the dock. “This is… this...,” he said, making his voice sound quavery and old, stuttering to suggest a terror he didn't feel. “This is Joseph Gunderson, I… I… just escaped from that terrible asteroid. Several of the competitors were holding me captive. I barely escaped with my life. You have to help me!” As he spoke, he sped up his words. By the last sentence, words were coming out in rapid fire.
A brief pause followed his transmission, silence filling the cabin. Maxar held his breath.
“Shuttle 2489,” filled the cabin, “Joseph Gunderson, our record shows you leaving Bloodsport yesterday. How is it you are still on the asteroid?”
Had he been lucky enough to randomly guess the name of an actual spectator? I just said the first thing that came to mind. His initial intent was to buy enough time to get onto the dock, then fight his way to a worm-capable ship. That was risky, but up until this point he had no choice. Now though, there might be an alternative.
“My original plan was to leave yesterday, but I hadn't checked out yet. I don't understand why it shows me as departed. I paid the extra day fee.” He hoped the lie worked. If not, he could always go back to his original strategy.
“During normal conditions, there wouldn't be a problem, but under the current circumstances we will be forced to detain you and confirm your identity. Please be advised two guards will be waiting at the shuttle dock. They will escort you to a secure holding facility.”
Diving further into the role of rich plutocrat, Maxar became angry. “You are going to lock me up after what I just went through? How dare you!” He considered pushing it further, but he could easily handle two guards. If he protested too hard, they might send additional security to restrain him.
“Sir, it's simply for everyone’s safety. We don't want Bloodsport participants running loose on the orbital dock. I assure you, your accommodations will be adequate and comfortable. Please do not be alarmed.”
Acting sufficiently cowed, Maxar responded, “Well, when you state it in that manner, I do suppose it's for the best.”
“We'll see you in a moment, sir. Please relax and enjoy the journey. You are safe now.”
Sitting back in his chair, Maxar looked out the large shuttle windows and analyzed the orbital dock's defenses. It certainly wouldn't be able to hold off military ships, but it had enough weaponry to disable or destroy unarmored vessels.
He quickly revised his plan, factoring in the guns that would take out his ship before he had a chance to open up a worm. Disabling the dock's weapons systems would be a top priority, followed closely by acquiring a suitable escape ship. At this point, anything that flew and was an easy capture would be perfect.
By the time he had everything sorted in a tactically sound way, Maxar was almost to the dock. It loomed large, his shuttle a speck compared to its size. Although Maxar had never been to the dock, he had heard much about it from the spectators and advertisements constantly playing on Bloodsport. It featured huge hotels and casinos, lavish brothels, large viewing areas for the games below, shops with merchandise catering to the wealthy, and many other luxurious features. It was paradise for those who loved to view the deaths of others and live expensively.
The dock's operators took over piloting, and Maxar's craft entered the shuttle bay without his hands on the controls. This bay looked almost identical to the one on Bloodsport and the similarity summoned painful images of Benson's death.
Maxar shook his head, shutting out all distractions. He quickly spotted the two escort guards standing next to an empty shuttle space. Both were tall and well-built, wearing neatly pressed uniforms of Bloodsport security. Their armbands were red instead of orange, denoting a different branch than their comrades down on the asteroid. Guest services, Maxar thought, laughing derisively. Their armament wasn't amazing either. One flechette pistol apiece, still in holsters. Easy.
After the shuttle landed and powered down, everything was still. The guards stood too far away for his plan to work, so Maxar decided to wait them out. They finally grew impatient and came to open the hatch. As it slid open, Maxar struck fast and hard. He had no weapons, but his body was enough.
Maxar swung out of the hatchway, giving the first guard a hard boot to the face. There was a grinding crunch as the man's jaw shattered, and he fell to the floor, unconscious. Maxar pivoted and shoved a fist into the second man's face, knocking him out. Both guards were incapacitated in seconds without any loud noises. Perfect.
Looking down at their flechette pistols, Maxar considered taking the weapons. If it came to an armed battle, he would never get off the dock. He had to rely on stealth and confusion. There were too many opponents for a frontal assault. Move fast and never be where they expect you, he thought, dismissing the pistols. Besides, they will make me more conspicuous. I have no way to conceal them.
Maxar dragged the two men into the shuttle, knowing they would soon be missed, but wanting to give himself as much of a head start as possible. Maybe their superiors will think they’ve gone off for a drink or something, Maxar thought, closing the shuttle door. Like the fires of the dark star they will… But you never know.
Moving at a fast walk, Maxar started scouting for a place to hole up. He needed to perform surveillance and plan the next steps of his escape. He made his way out of the shu
ttle area, hoping the dock’s security system wasn’t tracking him.
While not a scientist, Maxar knew the facility’s defensive rail guns required massive amounts of power to function. It stood to reason all the cannons ran off of a central power source. Disabling or destroying this source sounded like an excellent way to take out all the cannons quickly. He was basing everything off assumptions, but lacking any other place to start, it seemed like a good idea.
Maxar got lucky as he exited the landing area. Huge conduits ran along the ceiling of the corridor outside the main bay, likely leading to central power. All he needed to do was follow them and eventually they’d lead to his objective.
He had yet to run across any dock personnel, but Maxar had a feeling that would change at any moment. It was against his instincts to move openly, but there was a chance if he looked confident, no one would question him.
After rounding the corridor’s first bend, Maxar felt his heart leap. Three security guards were running towards him, shock batons in hand and grim expressions on their faces. As they neared, he ran through several scenarios to dispose of them. Most were violent, risky, and used up precious time. He opted instead for trying to blend in and hope they didn't notice.
When they were a few meters away, he sprang to the side, flattening himself against the wall like a normal person would when about to get run down. The guards didn't give him a second look. Maxar found it surprising nobody had briefed the guards on Bloodsport participant uniforms. That would have made him easy to recognize. The security on the orbital dock isn’t up to the standards I’m used to, he thought, chuckling. The lack of security cameras here was another indicator of laxness.