Cry of War: A Military Space Adventure Series

by R. L. Giddings

  There was an explosion somewhere behind her which swung her back and forth, jarring her shoulder against a jagged piece of the fuselage. In an attempt to steady herself, she grabbed hold of some webbing. If her memory served her right this was just where the rear ramp locked against the main hold.

  A wild idea came to her then and she managed to hook her arm through the webbing with the idea of pulling herself along. But her strength was dwindling and the fact that the ramp was securely locked dissuaded her. Even if the ramp had been open, she doubted she’d have the strength to pull herself inside. But then she saw something.

  Not a foot from her face was a small rubber socket cover. On it, written in clear white letters was: DANGER RAMP and then in smaller letters. Manual Override.

  Working with one hand, she managed to raise the cover in order to reveal the switch which lay beneath. She pressed the switch down and it was immediately illuminated.

  But then she felt the whole shuttle start to tremble.

  This is it, she thought, and immediately took in her last breath.

  Only the shuttle didn’t seem to be moving.

  Instead, the rear ramp started to slowly open. The rumble must have been caused by the hydraulics.

  A shock of adrenalin flooded her system then and suddenly she was scampering over the webbing. The lip of the shuttle was covered in a fine layer of oil but she didn’t let that dissuade her as she pulled herself up to the edge. Seeing that the interior was illuminated gave her the reassurance that she needed. Bringing up her elbows to rest against the side of the fuselage, she managed twist around so that her knees dropped down and swung her lower half through the aperture. She mis-timed her release so that she landed flat on her back, half in and half out of the shuttle and had to work to pull herself round.

  She felt the cool rush of air against her cheek and knew that she was nearly there.

  Just find a way of closing the ramp again and she’d be safe.

  But then the shuttle lurched wildly and she was thrown against the wall, cracking her head.

  And then, nothing.

  *

  Schwartz met up with Khan at the turbo elevator. The entrance to the elevator was ringed with people going about their duties. But, when the elevator arrived, they all stood back, indicating for the two senior officers to go first. It was a display of respect which Schwartz was still getting used to.

  Once the doors had closed behind them and they were on their own, he wrapped his arms around her before kissing her on the forehead.

  “Now, what’s going on?” Khan said. “Rumor is that old man Faulkner has finally lost it. Has he?”

  “No,” she said with a decisiveness which she didn’t feel. “Of course not. It’s just that he’s put me in charge of this rail gun thing, and I don’t want to let him down.”

  Khan stepped back from her but still held her arms.

  “He wants to use a rail gun on that thing and you think he’s still of sound mind? Really?”

  “I know. It sounds crazy, right?”

  “No. On the contrary. It sounds inspired.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. Now it was her turn to be confused. “I can never tell whether you’re joking or being serious.”

  “Oh, I’m being serious. I love a good rail gun. Just the sound of it firing. That’s awesomeness on a completely different level!”

  She stepped over to the wall. “Will it be quite so awesome when we’re going up against a battle cruiser?”

  Khan gave her a sly grimace. “Depends how close in he can get. What’s happening about those shields?”

  “Don’t worry about those,” she said dismissively. “They’re being taken care of.”

  Khan made to ask how but she shook her head to warn him off. They might be having a baby together but she was still his senior officer.

  “So? Do you think you can help?” she said. “With the ammunition, I mean?”

  He gave a non-committal shrug. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

  Then he took something from out of his pocket and held it out to her.

  “What’s that?”

  “Tungsten tetrahedron,” he said smugly. “Have a feel.”

  He gave it to her and she almost dropped it. “Wow! That’s ridiculous. Where’d you get that from?”

  “It’s something that Captain Meyer had us put together. In case of pursuit, we were going to spread these things in our wake. Originally, he wanted to rig them with some kind of explosive but they’re so dense there’s no need. Fifty of these traveling at speed would be enough to shred most ships.”

  “Because of how dense they are?”

  “Tungsten. Works every time.”

  “How many of these do we have?”

  He took the tetrahedron and tossed it into the air.

  “About thirty thousand,” he said before catching it again.

  She looked at him incredulously.

  “But will the rail gun be able to cope with these?”

  “They can fire anything: projectiles, rocks, bowling balls, you name it. But these things? It’ll be insane.”

  The elevator dropped them on Deck D. When she got out, she started down towards the Mag-lev line, an automated transport system which ran the length of the entire ship.

  “Okay,” she said. “We need to run these things over to the projectile handling platform as soon as possible.”

  “I’ve already sorted it,” he said slapping the side of one of the train’s shipping containers. “They’re all in here just waiting for your authorisation.”

  “And what’s this?” she said, indicating the solid looking crate occupying the rear truck.

  “Oh, that’s nothing,” he said.

  “Which means that it’s something. Come on, lieutenant. Let’s hear it.”

  Khan threw out his hands. “That’s a little something special the captain’s had me working on.”

  She went over and examined the crate. “So why don’t I know about it?”

  “Something to do with our new friends the Yakutians. But that’s all I can tell you.”

  She turned towards him, arms folded.

  “I suppose you think you’re pretty darn smart?”

  “No, we’ve been over this. You’re the smart one. I’m more, what you might call, ‘devious.’”

  Two men approached them carrying a pressure suit.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  The two men looked at one another.

  “Lieutenant Khan’s pressure suit, ma’am.”

  “And where’s mine?”

  Khan indicated her pregnant stomach. “Seems they didn’t have one in your size.”

  She stepped in close so that the two ratings couldn’t hear.

  “Make another crack like that and I’ll personally see to it that your first child is also your last.”

  Then she stepped back and spoke normally again. “C’mon. Where’s mine? I’m meant to be supervising this.”

  Khan beckoned over the man holding the suit’s torso and arms. “You seem to forget, ma’am. We’ve got a radiation leak down there and since you’re a senior officer we have to take all necessary precautions.”

  She put her arms down by her sides and stood up straight, which wasn’t easy. “I’m not happy about this, lieutenant.”

  “I daresay you’re not but it makes sense. Now,” he allowed the two men to pull the torso down over his head. “Who am I meant to link up with once I’m down there?”

  After a beat, she said, “PO Powers. He’ll be in The Gun Room, though he’s going to be expecting me.”

  “I’m sure he’ll cope. Anyway, it makes more sense if I go. I’m guessing he’s never fired anything like these things before so he’s going to have a lot of questions. Best if I’m there to talk him through everything. Don’t you agree, ma’am?”

  Schwartz stuck out her chin.

  “I suppose.”

  *

  When Webster came out of his cabin the next
morning, he turned right down the corridor rather than left towards the canteen. He counted off the doors one by one, they all looked identical. Eventually, he arrived at what should have been Dalbiri’s room. Just to be certain he squatted down and checked for the little scuff mark he’d seen the previous day.

  It was still there.

  “Heay, Dalbiri! You awake?”

  There was no response. He stood there unsure what to do next.

  He raised his hand ready to knock but in doing so he must have triggered a sensor because the door slid open. The room itself was identical in every way to his own. Except it was Dalbiri’s clothes which were laid out on the bedspread, his shoes neatly arranged on the floor.

  “Dalbiri!” he took a few steps inside.

  But there was no reply.

  No doubt his appetite had just got the better of him. Though it had been his idea that they meet up like this.

  Odd.

  After checking there was no one out in the corridor, he stepped back inside and headed for the bathroom.

  “Dalbiri? You in there?”

  But the place was empty. Webster turned about looking for clues but, apart from the clothes and shoes, there was no other sign of him.

  He pulled back the covers on the bed. The sheets were pristine. Either Dalbiri was very particular about making up his bed, or the bed hadn’t been slept in.

  He went back out into the corridor and headed for the canteen.

  But the canteen was empty. There was no sign of him and no sign that he’d eaten there recently either. The serving hatch was still there but when he pressed for service nothing happened. He even took to sticking his head inside the recess and looking up but there was nothing to see. The whole place felt inert as though it were waiting for something to trigger it back into life.

  He then went and stood in the dead centre of the room. The canteen had eight tables with capacity for about thirty diners and so he slowly started to spin around, trying to see if there was anything significant in the room that he might have missed. Only there wasn’t. He got down on the floor and went round scrutinising the underside of all of the tables hoping to see if there was anything there. A quickly scrawled note perhaps, but there was nothing.

  He got back to his feet and stood there trying to decide what to do before going back out into the corridor. The door to Dalbiri’s room was still open which struck Webster as odd. Unless they were locked, the doors opened and closed automatically so there was no reason why Dalbiri’s door should still be open.

  Everywhere he went, he had a sense of the sub-minds watching him. From the canteen, down the corridor and along into Dalbiri’s room he could feel them. And he thought about what Joanna had said. That the sub-minds were degrading. While that gave him some degree of hope it also begged the question of how long this process had been going on for? Far longer than he’d been alive, no doubt. So if he was hoping that he could wait them out he was probably going to be disappointed.

  It felt as if their presence pervaded everything and Webster had an image of himself inside the ship but as sections of the ship were removed it became obvious that he was trapped inside what was effectively a child’s model of a spaceship, as though this had all been created simply to mollify him.

  There was no question who was in control here and if they wanted him dead then there was very little Webster could do to prevent it.

  Besides, he’d had a better idea. He went back through the canteen and out the other side, heading in the direction of the library.

  But when he got there he found his way barred. Or, rather, the access corridor he’d used previously had disappeared. Replaced by a smooth, solid wall so that at first, he doubted himself, and had to look again to check that he had it right. He even ran his hands over the fabric of the wall, looking for any tell-tale signs but there were none. It was as if the junction had never existed.

  In his confusion, he looked back the way he’d come as he tried to figure out the best way to proceed. He didn’t like the way that they could act so clumsily, as if he wouldn’t notice that the entrance to the library had disappeared, but then he had to laugh at himself for his own naivety.

  They didn’t care what he thought, so long as he did what he was told.

  The library had never actually existed in the first place. It was simply a construct the sub-minds had constructed to appease him. They had wanted him and Dalbiri to feel at home in this strangely overcooked new world and had been prepared to make certain concessions in order to put them at their ease. By closing the library, they were signalling the end of this first stage of their confinement, no doubt disappointed that the two of them hadn’t displayed the correct level of deference to their captors and what they had planned for them.

  He started walking ahead, the dark corridors lighting up as he progressed, seeming to draw him forward.

  Webster had got this part wrong, he realised. He should have gone along with their plans, or at least given that impression. He should have been more obsequious until they’d been able to work out what was going on. The sub-minds might be degrading but they were still very powerful. He only had to think about what they’d done to that last Da’al ship to realise that. The firepower they had at their disposal was truly frightening. They’d had more success at defeating the Da’al than all the other Confederation ships put together and for that achievement alone they demanded some level of respect. The Librarian might well be on the verge of a significant mental breakdown, but when you encountered someone capable of wielding that level of destructive force you had to consider your moves carefully.

  Now, it looked as though Dalbiri might be paying the price for their over-sight.

  Webster was halfway down the corridor when he was forced to stop. The light emitted by the walls and floor was so dazzling that he had to shield his eyes. In the silence that followed, he thought he could hear voices.

  One of the sub-minds had to be talking to someone. He just hoped that that someone was Dalbiri.

  Still dazzled by the intensity of the light, he moved forward in measured steps, his head cocked as he tried to discern what was being said. However, other than the odd word, he found that he was wasting his time.

  He came to a set of double doors and hesitated. There was something familiar about them but then he discounted the idea. If he’d had a weapon, this would be the moment that he’d have drawn it. Holding his hand out in front of him, he edged closer to the door, tensing up as they parted.

  He was back in the room that had held the specimens though he wasn’t sure how. Nonetheless, there they were over on the raised walkway to his left and there, straight ahead of him was the outsize specimen tank. Only, this time it wasn’t empty. The tank had been filled with fluid, just enough so that Dalbiri, naked except for his shorts, could be comfortably accommodated inside.

  Without even thinking, Webster moved closer. Dalbiri had a black breathing apparatus attached to his face and various leads feeding into the crook of one elbow. But that wasn’t all. There were two flexible hoses feeding into his lower back. The skin was red and puffy where the hoses had been attached. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble setting this up. It looked like they intended on keeping him there for the foreseeable future. The skin was red and puffy where the hoses had been attached.

  Something about his actions must have alerted Dalbiri to his presence because his eyes snapped open. He struggled against his bonds, his jaw working as he tried to say something but, because of the breathing apparatus, Webster couldn’t even attempt to read his lips.

  He raised a hand in an attempt to reassure his friend while he went around the back to review the set-up. There was a slim black box which he assumed had to be some kind of generator and then above that, six separate hoses which fed into the back of the tank, the bottom two of which were linked to the two main tubes in his back. They had the same sharp, sour smell he associated with latrines.

  It was a grim thought.

  The Librarian, wh
o was preparing implements on a metal trolley, seemed not to notice any of this.

  The message was clear enough, though.

  Start cooperating or you’ll end up like your friend.

  The disappointment in Dalbiri’s eyes when he came around the front of the tank was painfully apparent and it was difficult not to start randomly pulling out tubes. But there was no telling what damage might be done by acting so rashly, so he refrained. No, his friend was going to have to suffer this indignity for a little while longer.

  He was just going to have to bide his time. Besides, he had more pressing matters to be dealing with, the main one being the state of the Da’al ship they’d seen the previous night. As far as Webster was concerned, it still posed a threat. No doubt one of the other sub-minds was currently monitoring the situation and would alert them if anything happened but Webster didn’t want to wait. He wanted them to act now. Destroy the ship before it was too late.

  That might provide Webster with an opportunity to get Dalbiri clear of the tank. But there were other matters which had to be dealt with first. Nonetheless, it was difficult to deal with the disappointment in Dalbiri’s eyes as he realised that he was going to have to suffer this indignity a little while longer.

  The Librarian was key here. If Webster could handle him right and tell him what he wanted to hear then there was still a chance that they could both come out of this in one piece.

  He couldn’t bring himself to speak so waited until The Librarian looked up before he lightly touched himself on the chest then gestured over to the command centre. He received a nod of approval and started up the raised walkway.

  “Good day,” the Librarian said. “I’ve been wondering when you might turn up.”

  Webster nodded, working hard to keep a smile on his face. This was all a ruse, of course. The Librarian would have been aware of Webster’s every step. It had to be difficult for someone so far removed from the physical act of moving around to deal with such tedious necessities.