Velocity Rising

by Angie Arland

  Sam glanced across the bed toward the nearest polished white wall. He looked back at Tayla.

  “Seriously, this has been a nice chat and all, Sam, but how do I get out of here?” Tayla slid off the bed and allowed her feet to touch the white sterile floor. Her sneakers had seen better days, and were now coated in dried mud, some of which had crusted and fallen onto the polished floor.

  This makes no damn sense.

  The nurses would have changed her clothing and removed her shoes. Her eyes darted around the room again. No door or exit of any kind. Something wasn’t right, but she didn’t want to alarm the boy. “I need to see my sister now,” she said, more to herself. “To make sure she’s alright.”

  Sam frowned. “I’m leaving today.” His bottom lip quivered. “I won’t see you again.”

  “Okay...enjoy your vacation at the beach.” Tayla didn’t know what to make of him. All she could think about was getting the hell out of here.

  Sam’s expression was suddenly fearful. His eyes brimmed with tears. “Can I stay with you? It gets lonely here.” He glanced toward the wall opposite the bed again.

  “Uh, I think you should go back to your dad. He must be worried about you.” Tayla smiled to ease his fear, but she didn’t know how to pacify the kid. Her confusion was taking over. Her mind swirled with questions. There were no hospital sounds or medical equipment of any kind. The image of a branch piercing her shoulder flooded back. Her hand went to her shoulder, but she found no wound even though her shirt was torn and stained.

  Sam wiped his tears on his sleeve. He patted the back of her hand in a reassuring gesture. “The dinnarei fixed you.”

  “W-what did you just say?” Fear seeped through her.

  Sam backed away. “It’s your turn to have an openation now. Don’t worry. It only hurts a little bit.” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together to show her just how much he thought it would hurt.

  “What kind of openation... wait, you mean operation? Is your father a doctor?”

  Sam sighed and bent his head to study his bare feet. “I had the openation,” he leaned in to her and whispered, “but I cried. They told me not to, but I really wanted my dad. One time, I cut my finger, and he fixed it right away, like magic.” He looked sideways and back again, as if to make sure no one overheard them.

  “Sam, where are the nurses?” Tayla’s voice rose as her stress level grew. Maybe she was locked in a mental ward. Maybe she’d never get out. Maybe she’d lost her mind and all this alien stuff, even the boy, were in her head.

  Sam frowned. “They will come and take you soon. For your openation.” He took a few steps back, a sympathetic look on his face.

  Tayla worried about what type of ‘openation’ he referred to, and why he knew so much about it. Her insides felt like a can of worms. “It was nice meeting you, Sam, but you need to go to your dad now.”

  Sam hung his head, and his shoulders trembled. “I-I’m going to m-miss you.” He launched himself into her arms and held her tight around the waist.

  She patted his back because she didn’t know what-the-hell else to do. She didn’t even know the kid. “We’ll see each other again, I’m sure of it.”

  “I’m s-sorry,” Sam said, glancing over his shoulder, before backing away.

  An electrostatic hum reverberated through the pristine white floor under her sneakers. “Sam, what’s going on?”

  “They’re coming for you now,” he said.

  A glowing orange vertical line appeared on the wall opposite the bed.

  Tayla’s heart slammed in her chest. “Who’s coming? Sam?”

  Sam didn’t answer. Instead, he ran to the back of the room, crouched low on the floor, and pulled his knees to his chest before burying his head behind his long blonde hair.

  “Sam, what’s going on?” Tayla rushed to the boy and to get away from the glowing light as well. The boy was obviously terrified of it, whatever it was.

  “I’m s-sorry,” Sam said again. He looked toward the glowing wall and buried his head back into his knees, hiding behind his hair.

  Tayla looked back as the orange glow widened and formed a doorway. Three humanoid creatures entered the room, one after the other. Her breath caught in her throat. Paralysis set into her muscles, freezing her like an animal caught in a spotlight.

  The alien’s ash-gray forms were draped with wrinkled, shark-like skin. One wore a gray military-type uniform, and it carried a holstered gun on its thigh. Its three fingered hand hovered over the weapon. The other two wore white uniforms much like you’d expect in a hospital. Their soulless gazes never left her. Their tiny mouths, out of proportion to their bulbous heads, revealed a bottom row of sharp pointed teeth.

  Realization hit her like lightning. The accident, the crashed ship, the aliens, it was all real. Worse, they were coming for her and the boy. A shudder rippled through her. She had to protect this innocent kid. She knelt beside Sam and leaned over to shield him. “I won’t let them hurt you,” she whispered into his hair.

  On the wall above Sam, three shadows appeared. Tayla glanced over her shoulder. The aliens stood a few feet away. One of them, a light-skinned, older-looking alien, held out its hand, reaching out toward them.

  To her surprise, Sam extricated himself from her arms and dried his eyes on his sleeve. He stood and moved to the alien’s side, took its slender, leathery hand in his.

  Through sparkling wet eyes, Sam said, “It’s time for your openation.”

  Four

  Aiden twisted in his chair toward Ryder, the Communications Officer. “Halt all long-range comms until further notice.”

  Ryder raised her brows. “But, sir, what about the fleet?”

  “We’re too far out for help.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “You said earlier we’re out of signaling beacons?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ryder frowned. “We used the last one to mark the location of the nutrient resource for the Fleet Recovery crew.”

  Aiden dragged his fingers through his hair. They were running out of time. The Terudithan ships outnumbered their own a dozen to one. He often wondered if their futile attempts at survival merely prolonged humanity’s inevitable end. It sure as hell felt that way.

  Spero whined from her crate. “It’s okay, girl.”

  “Spero wants to go home,” Ryder said.

  “She’ll have to be patient like the rest of us,” Aiden said, eyeing the hound. His fondness for the golden retriever had grown until they’d become inseparable. Spero sulked in her crate, head on her paws, staring at him with big brown eyes.

  Aiden cleared his throat and leaned forward. “The mining drones have a comms emitter to receive remote commands, correct?”

  Ryder nodded. “Yes.”

  “Can we modify one to emit the same signal as a communications beacon? Or am I assuming a similarity in the duality paradox of a quantum particle?” Aiden grinned at his own joke—the casings were identical.

  Ryder ignored his lame remark. “It’s possible, sir, but the Terudithan ship could intercept the signal and pinpoint our location.” She drew her brows together. “If they haven’t already.”

  “Not if we eject it before they’re within weapons range.”

  This could work, Aiden thought.

  “Set up a mining drone. But don’t activate it yet.”

  “On it, sir.” Comms Officer Ryder left the Command Hub through the blast door.

  Karson spun in his chair and watched her leave.

  Aiden rose from his chair and pivoted to the Weapons Officer. “Karson, what do we have in our arsenal that can propel the mining drone as far away from the ship as possible in as little time?” Aiden already knew the plasma cannons were out of the equation. The drone would melt inside the firing chamber before it left the ship. His mind ran through numerous scenarios, but they all ended the same: in catastrophic failure.

  Karson swiveled to face Aiden. “We have a couple o’ old backup torpedoes. It’s just a matter of removing the warhead so it
doesn’t go bang.” He grinned. “I could mount the mining drone in the nose-cone with a few modifications.”

  “Can you do it in less than five ems?” Aiden reminded himself why he chose every one of his crewmembers. Together, they made one hell of a team, adaptable and dependable—well, most of the time.

  “I’ll give it my best, sir.” Karson hurried from the hub.

  Aiden returned to his chair and checked the arm console for communications. Thus far, the Terudithan cruiser hadn’t sent out any signals. It was possible they were oblivious, but unlikely.

  Comms Officer Ryder entered the hub with a fist-sized spherical mining drone. She placed it on the long-range communications console. “Pairing the remote signal now, sir. Then it can be activated remotely at your command.”

  Spero darted from her crate and nudged Aiden’s hand with her muzzle. She sat back, waiting, tail wagging.

  Aiden put up his palm. “Spero, that’s not a ball, you silly dog. Bed.”

  The retriever lowered her head and slunk back to her crate.

  Comms Officer Ryder entered a set of commands, her fingers moving with precision across the panel. “Drone is paired, sir.”

  “Get it to Karson in munitions.”

  Ryder nodded, took the silver drone, and left.

  “Sir?” The newest member of the crew, co-pilot Davin Reece, called over the comms from the cockpit.

  “Got something to add, Reece?”

  The young recruit had been mostly silent on his first mission out. “I was just thinking, sir, we could use thrusters and land on a large asteroid I’ve tracked in the belt, bearing four-two-five mark one-eight, range three ems from our location. From there, we power down all internal systems and follow the protocol Karson mentioned. If the terudithans deploy fighters, we should remain out of sight...mostly.”

  Aiden considered the idea. “It has merit, Reece, but Mister Finnegan can’t fly the ship and fix the engine at the same time.”

  “I can do it, sir. I can get us there,” Reece replied.

  “Mister Finnegan, can he land us on the asteroid?” It was a risk he wasn’t sure he wanted to take.

  “I’d bloody well hope so. I trained him myself, in a real ship, mind you, none of that virtual shite. We racked up numerous hours of flight time together.”

  Aiden nodded, hoping like hell Finnegan wasn’t wearing rose-colored glasses because Reece was family. “Go ahead, Reece. Fire up the thrusters. Mister Finnegan, I want that engine up and running in case this goes sideways, got it?”

  “Understood. I could recharge the ionizing chamber and restart the engine, but we’ll not get far. The thruster grid is in a state of decay due to impact by charge-exchange ions. It was only a matter of time. It’s a weakness in the ion engines, another reason they’re phasing them out. That and the amount of xenon gas required to keep the bloody things going.”

  Aiden frowned. “The aerodeck maintenance crew gave her the all clear before we left.”

  “I’m sure they did. But, see, this is the last scout ship in the fleet with an ion engine,” Finnegan said with a grumble in his voice, “and I only know one engineer capable of detecting grid decay...I’m talking about me.”

  “Yeah, I got that.” Aiden imagined the old man stooped over the engine assembly, swearing in his native tongue, whatever it was. When Aiden took over the scout crew six cycles ago, Finnegan was part of the deal. No one else wanted him. Most of the other ships had updated em-drives, which made Finnegan as obsolete as the ship he served on. One fact remained; he knew an ion-driven propulsion system like no one else in the fleet. “Hold off on the restart,” Aiden said. “It would probably do more damage but keep me updated on your progress.”

  “Aye, sir,” the old man said.

  Aiden took a deep breath and pushed himself up off the command chair. “Okay, Reece, we’re trusting you to get us to that big-ass asteroid in one piece.”

  “Aye, sir,” Reece responded from the cockpit.

  Aiden turned to the SigsOp. “Harper, keep an eye on the radar. Tell me the moment the squid are within weapons range. Let’s hope we’re dark well before then.”

  Aiden didn’t wait for a response. He knelt in front of Spero’s crate, caressing her fur to calm her down. She panted, her anxiety rising along with the tension in the Command Hub. “Karson,” he called out, “how’s the torpedo coming?”

  “Drone is secured into the nose-cone, sir...” Karson was out of breath through the comms. “...and just inserting the torpedo into the firing chamber now.”

  “As soon as you’re done, get your ass back here. I want your finger on the trigger.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The ship jolted slightly as all seven thrusters burst to life. Aiden hoped to hell the rookie wasn’t about to kill them all.

  “Mason, Grimes, do you copy?” Aiden didn’t want to admit he’d almost forgotten the ground pounders hidden away in their own compartments. The pair maintained small arms and munitions for ground patrols and combat situations.

  “Yes, sir.” Both Small Arms Specialists, Billy Mason and Zoe Grimes, responded over the comms.

  “I doubt we’ll find squid scum on the asteroid, but I’d rather not take chances. Ready small arms for the crew.”

  “Understood, sir,” Mason said in his deep baritone.

  The Command Hub was quiet as the thrusters purred, sending tiny vibrations through the hull. Aiden took the Command chair.

  “What’s going on?” Resident scientist Doctor William McNeill almost tripped over the blast door as he entered the hub.

  Aiden smirked. The man looked like something had dragged him through a throfflorger’s nest backwards. His half-balding head was beet-red, his white hair drenched in sweat, while a violet-pink stain was plastered across the front of his white shirt. It looked an awful lot like Terudithan blood.

  Spero rushed from her crate. She growled at the scientist, hackles rising in a ridge along her back. Aiden strode over and held her collar. “Nice of you to join us, doc” he said. It took all of his strength to hold the retriever back. “Spero is a little unsettled, all the commotion and such.”

  McNeill eyed the dog and balled his hands to his chest. “I-I was performing a delicate operation and almost fell into the specimen with no warning!” He added a flourish of his hand to dramatize his words.

  Aiden looked from Spero to McNeill. “You okay, doc?”

  McNeill’s face had turned pale as he kept his bloodshot eyes on the dog.

  “A little warning next time,” the scientist said through gritted teeth.

  “Of course. Now you’re here, grab a seat and strap in. The games are about to begin.”

  Spero resisted as Aiden led her to the crate. He harnessed her in this time for her safety—and the doctor’s.

  “Did you say games? I’m not one for games.” McNeill shuddered as he stumbled to a seat in the rear section of the hub.

  Spero growled from her crate.

  McNeill pulled his feet further under the chair and mumbled something.

  “Spero, that’s enough, girl,” Aiden said in a firm voice.

  “Sir, we’re prepping to set down on the asteroid,” co-pilot Reece said over the comms. “Whoa. It’s spinning off axis a hell of a lot faster than I expected. Hold on!”

  “We’re all going to die!” SigsOp Harper shouted over the ship-wide comms.

  Five

  Tayla clutched her chest as she felt a panic attack welling to the surface. She leaned forward and, using the wall to her back, pushed herself up on unsteady legs, all while keeping her eyes on the aliens. She had convinced herself somehow the events of the last few days were figments of her imagination. At least now she had proof she wasn’t mad.

  Because of her own terminal stupidity, she’d believed the boy Sam was a patient in the hospital and fell for his cute ‘openation’ crap.

  The alien holding Sam’s hand drew him to the side of the room, as the alien with the weapon pulled it from its holster an
d aimed it at her. The third one moved in and grabbed her upper arms, pulling her away from the wall.

  “Sam, please!” Tayla looked to the boy for help yet knew he could do nothing.

  She fought with all her strength, planting her sneakers into the hard floor, trying to put off the inevitable.

  “It will only hurt a little bit,” Sam said. The boy was a spectator, and she was the floor show. Sam exhibited none of the fear or sadness from earlier.

  Is this some kind of sick joke?

  “Sam, help me.” Tayla appealed to his humanity, if he had any left.

  The boy ignored her and left with the alien through the orange glowing doorway.

  The tallest alien hoisted her into the air as she fought and kicked as hard as she could. It dropped her hard onto the cold metal operating table. As soon as she was free of its grip, she screamed and fought, gouging at the flesh of its arms with her fingernails.

  The aliens moved to either side of the bed and pinned her to the operating table. Metallic woven bands extended across her body and tightened across her ankles, arms, and chest, holding her fast. A thin shelf emerged from the wall nearby. Tayla swiveled her head to see a variety of gleaming instruments.

  “Please, no!”

  The dark, shark-skinned alien leaned in to examine her. She noticed a long scar down its wrinkled face. It was so close, she felt its breath on her cheek. A foul stench like rotten seaweed made her gag. Something wild overtook her senses. Her instinct to survive kicked in and she head-butted the creature with full force in its face.

  Stars erupted as her vision blackened. She realized she’d made a grave error. Pain welled across her forehead. Warm blood dripped down her face and into her hair.

  The alien reeled back, violet-pink liquid erupting from its mouth as numerous tiny sharp teeth fell into its waiting slender hand. Its wrinkled face distorted as it threw its bulbous head back and howled an ear-shattering screech.

  The white-uniformed alien pushed the muzzle of its gun to her head. The injured alien shrieked, and the uniformed one backed off, re-holstering its weapon. It lowered its head, she assumed, in a show of submission.