Deimos Station (Broken Stars Book 2)

by I. O. Adler

  What if it now had been trying to save them?

  What else had been on the elevator?

  The blackout, the shock that had knocked Ovo for a loop, the shimmering she had seen when the elevator had finally released them.

  She had seen it, hadn’t she? If it had been real, what about the fast-moving shadow she had glimpsed before her disconnect with the harvester? What else was lurking in the dark spaces beyond the pathway lights around her?

  And now according to She Who Waits, the monster she had come to see knew something, had sensed it, and had been in a rage trying to get at whatever the shadow was. Somehow she didn’t feel confident the One would have cared if they had perished during its attempt to get at the mysterious intruder.

  “The One knows something.”

  She realized she had spoken out loud. But it was true. Even as Ovo did his best to help, she got him moving again and led the bot towards the atmosphere curtain.

  It was time to return to She Who Waits. Because if the One knew about these shadows, then the Dragoman, the Cordice, the Melded, and her mom needed to reveal what else everyone seemed to be keeping from her about what was lurking on board the Framework.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Where was Jenna Vincent?

  As the shadow navigated its way through the never-ending ventilation ducts, it realized the human structure was larger than it had believed. The upper floors stood abandoned. It took a moment to peer outside to get a better idea of the forces the humans possessed. Ground vehicles and rotary-wing aircraft, mostly. And so many soldiers.

  At least the alarms had quit.

  While on board the Cordice home ship, it had rested for many days to conserve its energy, but now the shadow felt drained as it drove itself in its search. If it didn’t find Jenna Vincent soon, the soldiers would take her from the hospital. Dr. Leavitt had removed her from the emergency room to the elevator, and the shadow felt confident the one human on the planet who held the harvester encryption hadn’t left yet.

  It returned to a ventilation grating. It moved quicker now, gliding through the steel ducts and never heavy enough to make any sounds. The next floor up was the last, and it too had been abandoned. Perhaps it had missed a floor. And the structure might have many dozens of levels beneath the ground.

  Abandoning the ducts, it went to the elevator and slid around the door into the shaft. Yes, this would do. It hoped the drop would give access to every floor. The direct route would also speed up the search. The elevator car was back on the ground floor.

  Voices.

  It paused. Perhaps four humans had entered the car. A chime sounded and the elevator moved up. The shadow flattened itself, but the car stopped one level below. It slid down to the roof. Listened. The humans’ words were muffled. The shadow didn’t want to risk making contact so it could understand what was being said. But through the gap between the elevator and the sliding door, it could watch as the four humans stepped out onto the third floor. They carried thin rods in their hands which were attached to small machines worn around each man’s shoulder. They waved the rods about as they advanced down the hallway and out of sight.

  Sensors of some kind? Yes, it concluded.

  The humans were hunting it.

  It climbed past the elevator car and descended the shaft. Below the ground floor were two more levels.

  More humans were speaking on the subbasement floor. It paused at the elevator door before slipping around it for a look.

  Two soldiers in their hazard suits stood guard. They carried rifles and spoke in soft tones to one another. Their backs were turned. So tempting to reach over. It wanted to know what they knew. Did they understand the shadow’s nature? Had they learned more than the fact that it had attacked them?

  If it were a lone sentry it could take him, but not two.

  Too tired. It would need to reserve its strength. Couldn’t risk another nerve-jangling series of alarms. And unlike the Cordice on their home ship, there appeared to be an endless supply of humans.

  But these guards weren’t searching for it. They were here for another reason.

  It found an open conduit to the space above the ceiling. Here it glided down the hallway, clinging to the roof and the many support braces. Navigated several turns. Listened.

  The buzz of a helmet radio revealed another sentry. This one stood alone outside a pair of doors. Other humans were speaking just beyond. The shadow paused to observe and decided there were no other guards and no more than three people talking in the next room.

  An electronic squeal pierced the air.

  The sentry reached down to a previously unseen box that sat at his feet. He picked it up and waved a rod about. The squeal repeated every time he raised it towards the grating.

  The sentry cried out.

  In a panic the shadow retreated, picking directions within the ductwork at random until it emerged down the hallway, where it could drop into the center of a group of desks.

  More humans would come. Judging by their treatment of Jenna Vincent, along with Agent Barrett’s reaction to the death of another human, they cared for their own and didn’t discard them. Which meant the shadow had to reach Jenna quickly before they removed her from the hospital.

  It took a moment to recall each turn and determined which series of walls likely connected back to the guarded room. After slipping through an electrical outlet to the space behind it, it moved carefully and quickly.

  Much of the hospital had only partial lights on. Meanwhile, the humans preferred to function in full illumination. It arrived at what it hoped was the room under guard. Peered through an outlet. The plastic faceplate popped and clattered. Too loud. It prepared to retreat again. But then it felt something familiar as a voice it recognized called out.

  Agent Barrett. His voice sounded tentative and weak. He rose from a bed and approached the outlet. Squinting, he crouched down to pick up the faceplate, which had dropped to the floor. He wasn’t wearing much, still the flimsy garment that went down to his knees.

  The shadow felt a rush at seeing the human and could almost taste him as he got close.

  But as the shadow reached for him, the tight space restricted it. Its outstretched limb missed him by a hair’s breadth. Barrett sprang backward, falling onto his rear. He scrambled away, calling out frantically.

  The shadow pulled itself from the wall and vaulted over the bed, landing on top of Barrett, who clawed and pushed at the shadow’s slippery body. The shadow gripped him and wrapped itself around his head and neck, stifling his screams.

  It couldn’t stun him. Still too weak.

  But Barrett’s neural pathways felt as familiar as any physical place where it had gone before. This time instead of shame or pain or fear it found the neural transmitters that triggered every time Barrett had ever been motivated beyond reason to attain or avoid something. The brain rewarded such acts of passion and achievement, and now the shadow rewarded Barrett.

  The first cigarette on many a day before quitting.

  His first agency raids, gun in hand, breaking into a turncoat informant’s condo and facing down a bad guy pulling a shotgun out from under his bed.

  Driving his gutless Ford hybrid down I-77 during a winter blizzard and nearly losing control, and narrowly missing a seven-car pileup by accelerating onto the shoulder and almost clipping one motorist who stood outside of her shredded pickup truck. He hadn’t stopped. Had been laughing.

  Other moments too numerous or fractured. But the pathways were still there, even if the memories had grown hazy. Sex. Guilt. Aversion. Obsession. Every time he had achieved one of his deep-seated wants or even came close, Raymond Barrett’s brain saved something from the experience.

  All of this took several heartbeats. And when the bliss and nausea rolled through Barrett’s body, it had the desired effect of silencing him as he shuddered.

  The shadow made him stand.

  Dr. Leavitt was in the next room and shouting. “Sweep the entire floor. I want ev
eryone down on this level now!”

  The shadow had Barrett approach the doors and peer through the glass.

  Dr. Leavitt stood at the opposite end of a large room and was using her suit’s communication to bark orders. Three soldiers—no, not soldiers, Barrett knew, but medical personnel—worked around a young woman on a bed, surrounded by monitors and equipment. She had a breathing mask over her face and her hair tucked under a green cap.

  But the shadow knew her, as did Barrett.

  Jenna Vincent, and it had found her.

  Dr. Leavitt was pacing as she spoke. Her voice had gone soft as she purred the last of her orders, her tone bereft of patience.

  Barrett squirmed. The shadow calmed him down and took a moment to reward him for his obedience. It indulged in the instant response as Barrett relived the heady rush of sampling a white powdered narcotic he and a fellow university student had snorted in the bathroom during a basketball game.

  “Get back in bed, Agent Barrett, everything is fine.”

  Dr. Leavitt was staring at him. So were the others. The shadow instantly knew that Barrett wasn’t acting normal, was shivering, gasping, and communicating through body language that he wasn’t in control.

  But then the doctor raised a rod attached to one of the devices. “It’s here. It’s got Barrett again.”

  Yet her voice was calm. When one of the medical staff moved towards a cart, the doctor held up a hand.

  “No one move. No one use your radio. We’ve met before, haven’t we? You saw me in the emergency room. You were there from the moment we brought our patients in from the sphere. I’m Doctor Greta Leavitt. Can you understand me? Can you talk to me? Because we would like to talk to you. And I believe what happened earlier was a misunderstanding.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  With Ovo leaning on her, Carmen almost gave out by the time she made it to the network of ramps near the pool. A giant statue she hadn’t seen before stood nearby. Shrouded in rain, it was the tall representation of a bipedal figure with a thick mane, wearing layers of garments with multiple sleeves and billowing pants, but barefoot. It had claws. The figure seemed to be climbing the cascading water.

  The face wasn’t visible. Was this Ovo’s original people, the ones who had rejected him after the attack and the injuries that had cost him his arms?

  Time for that later.

  She looked back at the trailing blimp bot. “Are we going the right way?”

  The bot swooped ahead of her and sped up an inclined hallway.

  “Guess so,” she murmured as she got moving.

  Two more bots waited at the next junction. They glided in and took Ovo, cradling him between them on an invisible field. But even with her burden gone, she could barely keep up. She felt a measure of relief when the tentacled Dragoman statue came into view.

  Home base, as far as she was concerned.

  Her nerves were on edge again as she ascended and heard She Who Waits speaking. There were other voices, too.

  One of them was the Melded worm.

  She Who Waits stood at the airlock corridor’s entrance, appearing unharmed as far as any external damage to her shell. Beside the worm were the Melded bug doctor and her mom. None of the guards were there, and no one carried any weapons.

  The bots set Ovo down gently and the bug went to work, moving quickly as its tiny hands probed and touched. Ovo was shivering.

  Carmen purposefully ignored the looming worm as he exhaled gouts of rotten-egg steam from his helmet. She kneeled by Ovo. The conversation had halted. She had only caught part of it, but none of the words made any sense. She didn’t know if She Who Waits translated into each species’ original language or if she had access to their com links and whatever common tongue the Melded shared.

  A blimp bot with a red translation light slid next to her. “The Pro Tempore Executive wishes to know if you are well.”

  “I’m fine. Ovo’s the one who got hurt.”

  The worm blurped. “The One. We warned you he is dangerous.”

  She couldn’t hide a sharp tone as bitterness rose in her throat. “I heard your warning. Seems hypocritical.”

  “We were expediting the will of the Framework. We require She Who Waits’ cooperation, along with yours.”

  “Funny, Ovo told me you’re not in charge anymore.”

  He let out more foul air.

  Her mother crouched next to her. “You heard right. It’s no longer the Primary Executive. The doctor here is. But what the former Primary says is correct. We’re on a critical time frame, honey. Our coming here in the manner we did, with weapons, wasn’t well thought-out. Are you okay?”

  Carmen nodded. She brushed clumps of hair away from Ovo’s eyes. The doctor busied himself for a moment with a box on his belt and produced a honey-colored dose of some drug or medicine. This snapped into one of the doctor’s tiny hands, which turned out to function like a needle. The doctor inserted it into the side of Ovo’s cybernetic eye. Another went into a previously unseen valve above Ovo’s hip.

  Ovo blinked rapidly and gasped. Using his metal arms, he sat himself up. He then stared at one of his hands before rubbing his face.

  “How are you?” Carmen asked.

  He appeared confused, looking between the doctor, Carmen, and Sylvia.

  “She Who Waits, translate for me.”

  Her mom’s concerned expression deepened. “The Pro Tempore Executive wishes all communication go through him or his predecessor.”

  “I don’t care. I’m talking to Ovo.”

  The worm chuffed. Carmen knew a derisive laugh when she heard one. When the bot spoke, Carmen could only hope it meant her question was being conveyed.

  Ovo gripped Carmen’s hand and didn’t let go. “I’m alive.”

  “You saw it too, didn’t you? Just as we were leaving the elevator.”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see or feel anything after the shock.”

  “The thing in the elevator did it,” Carmen said.

  His green eye came on for a moment before going out. “What do you mean? No. The One was outside trying to break in and followed us down. He must have caused a short or I caught a power surge.”

  “It looked like a shimmering which caught the light. The One said we weren’t alone. You had to have seen it.”

  “He has suffered trauma,” the bug doctor said. “I am administering a sedative so he can relax during his recovery. He will be returned to our ship and monitored. Please step away.”

  Another injection and Ovo became sleepy. Two of the Melded moved to help him up. Carmen resisted the urge to gnaw at her thumbnail as Ovo was led away.

  “Mom, I have to talk to you.”

  “You can say anything to me, Car.”

  Carmen led her mother towards the shuttle’s airlock and what she hoped was out of earshot of the worm. “Is he listening?”

  “You make it sound so sinister. No, dear, he isn’t. And even if he was, he isn’t making any decisions for the Melded.”

  “I don’t believe for a second that the doctor is in charge. Your new friends told the Framework council what they wanted to hear, but nothing’s changed. The guards came here with guns. This is like the Cordice home ship all over again.”

  Her mom’s eyes had something cold behind them. “You’re being dramatic. You clearly need rest and food. Let the doctor check you out. I heard you breathed in some hard atmosphere. He can do a quick checkup before we leave.”

  “We’re still going? Something inside the Framework attacked us, and it’s still out there. It could be the same type of creature which knocked out my control of the harvester.”

  “The council will look into that. I’ll make sure. But that doesn’t change the fact we have to go to Earth.”

  Carmen took her mom’s hand and traced one of the dark lines beneath the skin. “I’m afraid for you, Mom.”

  “You’ve done so much. But you’re exhausted. I’m still me. I’m going to stay with you until we go and we’ll travel to
gether. We’ll get to Earth. See Jenna. Once the harvester is recovered, everyone will calm down. The council will figure out what happened.”

  “You don’t believe I saw something, do you?”

  Sylvia smiled warmly. “You’ve been running on adrenaline for days. Your mind was in control of a spaceship. You could have died breathing in unsuitable air. To top it off, you went to the single most frightening member of the Framework council and he attacked you. I believe what you say you saw. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  “But the One was only trying to warn us and get to whatever was on that elevator. We have to talk to it. The more I think about what happened, that big alien was the one who sounded scared. Scared enough that it would break its elevator trying to get whatever was in there with us.”

  “It will get cleared up,” her mom said. Her voice held the mild tone of a parent talking her upset daughter through the aftermath of a bad day in grade school. “But communication is still out. We can’t solve everything. Let’s get you aboard the Dragoman shuttle. Rest up before we go. You’ll need your strength.”

  Carmen tried to catch a glimpse of Ovo, but he was gone. “Mom? Ovo helped me because I made him. Tell the worm that.”

  “Ovo will be fine. The Melded care for their own. It’s how we do things.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Caught.

  The humans knew it wasn’t only Agent Barrett who stood before them.

  But with Jenna Vincent so close, it couldn’t turn back. If it could take her and force her to return to the sphere, it could remove the sphere from the equation. Other possibilities existed if she proved pliable.

  The shadow walked Barrett forward to the bed where Jenna Vincent lay. The rest of the staff backed away, but Dr. Leavitt came closer. Jenna Vincent was unconscious. A brief review of the machines connected to her revealed nothing helpful. Agent Barrett knew little about the hospital and its specifics.

  Whatever medical attention the doctor and staff had provided hadn’t restored Jenna Vincent’s health. Her leg hadn’t regrown. Her heartbeat remained weak. One machine was feeding her oxygen, which meant her life was in danger.