Point of Light

by Kelly Gay

  CHAPTER 34

  Ace of Spades / Erebus VII

  The complete key fascinates me. Keys inside keys. Symbols within symbols. Now it is smooth and flat with just one symbol—a circle open at the bottom, surrounding an octagon and nestled inside what the Builders called the Treemark. Others called it the Eld, a sigil always associated with the Mantle of Responsibility, though solid proof of this has not been made.

  We have arrived at the key’s final coordinates and finished our scans of the murky planet.

  The captain’s signal has been confirmed.

  The relief is total. I regret the crew is not here to witness that lovely pinging sound affirming her bio-tag.

  —The captain’s life sign is strong. There are others here too. Four humans in her vicinity. Three more dwell just twenty-three kilometers west, and one, sixty kilometers southeast. There are many types of flora, eight species of which are carnivorous, and forty-two, poisonous. Eighty-five percent of the fauna are predators. It is not a good place for humans.

  —No, Little Bit. It certainly is not.

  Rion is close to the coordinates provided by the key, less than a kilometer from the Forerunner facility beneath the surface, the dimensions of which are currently populating within the ship’s scanner array.

  —My, that’s quite a complex.

  Little Bit is not exaggerating. Most of it is hidden beneath layers of soil and rock and stealth technology. While it is extremely difficult to break through, Pilvros inspired me to modify the Ace of Spade’s sensor array to further delineate the perimeter of such technology, thus building a sharper structural outline.

  —What purpose do you think it serves?

  —I cannot say. But let us descend and evaluate the perimeter for an entrance.

  The entire planet is wrapped in a layer of smoky atmosphere. A labyrinth of deep ravines cuts through the single rocky continent, suggesting some planetwide event that cracked the continental crust into millions of pieces.

  I land the ship on a wide flat rock as close to Rion’s position as possible. Thrusters kick up several layers of organic woodland material.

  The forest is breathtakingly primitive with its strange, twisted trees and fat tentacle branches, which draw up images of the Flood.…

  The landing gear releases just before the ship settles onto the ground. I stay on the bridge, curious to see how our unmistakable entry is received.

  Recent events have made me more careful than usual. In due time, I detect five individuals moving toward the Ace of Spades at a moderate clip. One is Rion, of course. I view her approach first via her bio-tag and then closer through the ship’s camera.

  I am at once delighted to see her image and then immediately horrified by her condition. She is gaunt and sickly pale. Her trousers are stained and torn and her shirt has fared no better.

  Anger brews.

  The others with her have minimal protection, and they have clearly been here for quite some time. Erebus VII has not been kind to them. Two move slower than the others, a woman aiding an amputee with a makeshift crutch.

  The closer two appear to be military.

  One of them is walking behind Rion now, his weapon aimed down but at the ready. She halts. They exchange words. He pushes her in front of him.

  He dares!

  I fly through systems and engage my armiger form in the hold as the doors open upon my command. I fill my presence throughout the construct, stretching my arms and neck—admittedly unnecessary, but the more I don my construct form, the more human it makes me feel, the more comfortable it is. It is much nimbler and quicker than when I first was forced into its neural circuitry.

  Doors open, ramp down.

  Now, human, try to push me.…

  Poor Rion! What a state she is in! Scrapes and deep cuts, bruising… so very pale. Gray smudges curve under her eyes. She is not smiling. Her face is hard, her mouth tight. This expression does not seem reserved for the man behind her with the weapon, but oddly, for me.

  And her eyes are fixed with warning.

  I step off the ramp. She makes a stop motion with her hand and I freeze.

  The man behind her raises his weapon, one hand tightly gripping Rion’s shoulder. “Southwell,” she says, “you’re making a very big mistake. You want off this rock, and I will get you off. But you fire one shot—one shot—and you can count your ride good-bye.”

  “We don’t need you or that thing to fly your ship,” this Southwell replies.

  “That would be where you’re wrong.” She whirls on him, furious at even the suggestion he might take her ship, and not caring at all about the threat to her life. “No one is in any condition to fight, including you. Your only way off this planet is right there. After all this time and all your losses, you’re going to let your ego and fear ruin a chance at rescue?” Disgusted, Rion shakes her head and then turns and strides toward me.

  Southwell and the others do not know what to do.

  She now addresses me in a low voice: “Number one, very glad to see you. Number two, we have a big problem. Just follow my lead and do exactly as I say. Okay? Where are the others?”

  “New Carthage,” I say, and that makes her frown, but seems good enough for her at this tense moment.

  “Try to look as unthreatening as possible.” She turns and raises her voice so the others can hear. “We’re not leaving anyone behind. You’re welcome on board, unarmed.”

  The two slow humans limp out of their cover and slowly approach. They drop a knife and a handgun on the ground and with a quick smile and nod keep going right into the ship. They have proven themselves to be the smarter of the group.

  Their action deflates the other two, who now come forward.

  “I wouldn’t put it past Southwell to try something,” Rion says quickly. “They think I have a crew of eight—let’s try to keep it that way as long as we can. They’re ONI, by the way.”

  “Most unfortunate.”

  The man with Southwell pauses in front of Rion, but his eyes are on me. They are wide and wary and curious. I lift my chin.

  “You may board, but not with the weapons,” she tells him.

  “What the hell is that thing?”

  “A salvaged android,” she lies.

  My snort escapes me before I can prevent it.

  “No. That’s hard light. That’s Forerunner.”

  “Does it matter? Hate to break it to you, but you guys aren’t the only ones who come into contact with Forerunner tech. It’s all out there for the taking, and more and more people are finding it. We recovered it, made it work, and it’s pretty handy.” Rion then turns to me. “Where is the nearest habitable and safe place to take our new friends?”

  “There is a mining outpost on an asteroid in the next system,” I answer.

  They seem stunned that I speak. But I believe I understand Rion’s game. She wants them to see me as under her control, as a friend and not a foe.

  Ah. I have just the thing.

  “Captain, we have detected the presence of four additional humans on this planet in two locations. Three are to the west and one to the southeast.”

  I am satisfied by their awed reaction.

  “That’s Delta Station to the southeast,” the man with Southwell says with undisguised hope. The glance they exchange is significant. “Our squad leader,” he tells Rion. “Last we heard, she and a few others were trying to make it to Delta site. If anyone could survive out there alone, it’s her.”

  “This changes things,” Southwell says. “We’ll need our weapons to extract them. You don’t understand how dangerous it is out there. These creatures, they—”

  Rion puts a hand on his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll show you the mess and you can get something to eat and drink while we go get your people. Your choice.”

  Some unspoken decision passes between them. Southwell drops his knives, then lifts the strap over his head and hands her his rifle. “Knife in your waistband too.”

  He smirks and hands i
t over.

  “The stun weapon in your boot,” I say.

  He hesitates, removes it, drops it on the ground, holds up his hands and spins around, then boards the Ace of Spades.

  Once this is complete, his companion follows suit and enters the ship.

  Rion and I make to follow him in, but she pauses to glance over her shoulder. I sense whatever happened here will weigh heavily on her mind for some time.

  “Keep them confined to the lounge. Prohibit access to everything but food and drink dispensers, no comms, no datapads, nothing,” she says. “Lock down the ship, locker room, crew quarters, bridge, engine room, everything.”

  “Of course.”

  “We’ll talk about the rest later.” She sways on her feet. “We get their friends, and then we get them the hell off the ship as soon as possible.”

  * * *

  That Lessa, Niko, and Ram were not on board came as a surprise. According to Spark, they were still on New Carthage. But the full story would have to wait until after she got the ONI survivors off her ship. After the group was secured in the lounge with Spark and Little Bit monitoring their every move and conversation, Rion headed to the bridge and began spooling up thrusters to lift off. First stop, the three closest survivors at Alpha Station.

  It didn’t take long to arrive at the coordinates laid out by Spark. She put the ship down in a clear spot on a rocky ridge, then withdrew the M6 she kept in the sleeve of her captain’s chair. As she headed into the lounge to retrieve Barnes, she checked her clip.

  Inside, she motioned to Barnes. “I need you to go with my android. Your people will need to see a friendly face.” Southwell jumped up, but Rion shook her head. “Just him.”

  Barnes moved out into the corridor, and Rion keyed in the code to lock the lounge door, before motioning for Barnes to continue in front of her. “Do I get a weapon, at least?” he asked as Rion ushered him down the stairs and into the hold where the armiger was waiting.

  “You won’t need one. If you want, I’ll have the area cleared and then you can go in.”

  “You have a lot of faith in your… android.”

  “He wouldn’t be part of my crew if I didn’t.”

  Rion left Barnes with Spark and then headed back to the lounge to keep an eye on things and to watch the action unfold from Spark’s linkup. As the screen came alive, the survivors gathered around, the food and drink they’d gotten from the dispensers forgotten in their hands. Little Bit monitored the area around the science station—a collection of stacked white pods, linked by corridors and bridges.

  Through Spark’s unique viewpoint, they witnessed several of the creatures lurking around the base. They hadn’t fled when the ship landed. Seeing them by daylight, Rion was amazed how anyone had survived. Despite their size, they blended easily into the trees and rocks. The room held its collective breath. Southwell cursed. “They’re walking right into a nest.”

  He shot to his feet. Rion braced herself for a fight, but Dr. Mallory’s gasp drew their attention back to the screen. “Would you look at that,” she said, amazed.

  As Spark and Barnes moved toward the station, the anglers backed off and slowly disappeared into the mists. Spark directed Barnes to a rock cleft ten meters from the station’s northernmost pod. Barnes vanished inside. They waited.

  Rion leaned against the lounge door. She didn’t have the connection the others shared; she’d only been with them a short time, but she did share the hell and terror and found her heart beating fast, her breath coming short and quick, and her body tense.

  When Barnes exited with three pale, confused faces, the room filled with gasps, sobs, and laughter…

  “LB, once they’re on board, proceed to the next location.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain!”

  Rion winced. The AI fragment was trying to sound human, to fool their guests into thinking an actual crew was on the ship. She wasn’t sure anyone bought it, but they were distracted by the footage, so she’d take it.

  Rion left the lounge to aid in the boarding of the newly rescued. She ignored the questions and said as little as possible as she and Barnes helped the dazed survivors, all scientists, to the lounge.

  The next location, Delta Station, proved more difficult. This time, Rion allowed Southwell to join Spark. Once again, she and the others watched from the lounge viewscreen. Delta Station had been pulled apart, as if a cyclone had touched down and decimated the structure. They found the squad leader half-dead and shoved into a rotted tree trunk at ground level. Rion’s stomach turned. At first, she though the woman was deceased, her body so still and white. Debris had fallen onto her face and into the corners of her eyes. It looked like she’d been there for several days.

  Southwell let out a horrible groan when he saw her. Spark bent down to retrieve her but Southwell shoved him away. In just a brief flash, Rion saw the horror and anguish in his eyes. Barnes was sitting on the edge of the closest chair, eyes glued to the screen, his face a grim vision of pain.

  Southwell carefully extracted the squad leader from the tree. “I got you, Yuri, I got you. Hang on.” He lowered her to the ground and checked her vitals, cursing and then starting chest compressions.

  They were losing valuable time. “Spark, get them both back to the ship immediately.” As she turned away from the screen to head for the med bay, she saw Spark gather the woman over his shoulder and then grab Southwell around the waist with one arm. The guy would probably never live that one down.

  Rion permitted the doctor and Barnes to leave the lounge and go with her to ready the med bay. As soon as Spark was inside, he carried the squad leader up the stairs, into the bay, and placed her gently on the exam table.

  “Lock up the ship, initiate one more sweep of the planet for survivors, and then get us off this rock.”

  Spark nodded and left the med bay.

  Rion immediately placed two wireless nodes on the woman’s chest and then powered the handheld defibrillator. Time became nonexistent. All focus dialed in on the squad leader, Dr. Mallory applying oxygen and intravenous fluids between charges while Rion assisted and readied the cryo-chamber if needed. Four pulses later, and they had a heartbeat. They didn’t relax, however. Biometric scans began, and Rion helped the doctor insert an exploratory smart diagnostic nano-monitor. All the while in the back of her mind lingered the thought that this could have been her.

  For a short time, it had been.

  It was hard to look at the squad leader’s face because Rion knew she must have looked nearly the same when Barnes and Southwell found her.

  When reports began flowing onto the med-bay diagnostic screen, and the proper sequences of care had been initiated, the patient began stabilizing.

  Rion finally stepped back. It felt like hours had gone by. She was shaking badly, still herself recovering from her own ordeal.

  “Well?” Southwell asked, jerking Rion back to attention.

  “The doc is flushing her system with nanotech. They’ll absorb whatever toxins are present. We’ve injected her with a full suite of nano-meds and sensors. Anything that needs attention will get it. Your squad leader will pull through.”

  “It’s Sergeant Yurman,” he said. “Yuri.”

  “Right,” Rion replied with a tired smile. “You can stay with her until we get to the mining outpost. I’ll bring you some food and drink.”

  As soon as she stepped into the corridor, Rion braced a hand on the bulkhead and leaned over. Weakness had overwhelmed her; she couldn’t stop trembling. The tightness in her chest was unbearable. She straightened and linked her hands on top of her head, trying to open things up and clear the suffocating sensation. Seeing Yurman’s ordeal from an outside perspective made her realize just how close she’d been to death’s door.

  If Barnes and Southwell hadn’t come along…

  “Hey, you okay there?” Barnes asked, appearing from the med bay and hurrying to offer assistance. He steadied her when she swayed.

  “I’m fine.”

 
He seemed reluctant to let go, but did so cautiously. “You don’t look so good.”

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Here, let me help you back to the mess. You should eat something. And it wouldn’t hurt to have the doc check you out too.”

  As he escorted her down the corridor, he said, “You’re not what I imagined.”

  Rion steeled herself; she had a feeling this was coming. You couldn’t work for the Office of Naval Intelligence and not have known the significant campaign against the Ace of Spades and her crew. Hopefully she was wrong. “How so?”

  “Well, usually our Most Wanted don’t go around saving the people who want to lock them up.”

  “What gave it away, the ship or the three-meter-tall ancient bit of Forerunner tech walking around?”

  “Neither.” She paused, surprised, as he clarified, “It was you.”

  “Me?”

  “Your picture was always up on our bulletin back at home base. Hard to forget when I passed it every day.… That Forerunner wasn’t part of our bulletin, but I’m starting to understand why you made the list in the first place.”

  “It’s called getting railroaded, Corporal.” In the confines of the corridor, Rion got as honest as she could get. Not only was she bone-tired, she was tired of running, and suddenly she found she needed to say it, to tell at least one ONI operative the truth. “I’m not a criminal. My crew—they’re two young adults and a retired salvager—aren’t criminals. That Forerunner isn’t a criminal.”

  Frustrated emotions swelled to the surface.

  An understanding half-smile pulled at the corner of Barnes’s mouth. He put his hand on her shoulder, gazing down at her with what looked like belief. “I’m beginning to see that, Captain. Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

  * * *

  As the Ace of Spades neared the large asteroid in orbit around the moon of a gas giant, Rion checked on Yurman and found Southwell and Barnes still by her side. “How’s she doing?”

  “Stable,” Barnes replied.

  “We’ve been in touch with the mining outpost. They’re ready to receive you, and they have a med bay set up for your sergeant.”