by Ramy Vance
Toner raised an eyebrow.
“Y…yeah.” Jaeger stepped forward, averting her gaze and offering the hospital gown. “Um. What’s your name?”
“Six-two-one-zero-octo-J4,” the boy said promptly. He took the offered gown with deliberate care and did his best to slip it on over his oversized tentacle stalk.
Toner gave a small laugh. “That’s a serial number, kid. What’s your name?”
“Instructor said one would be assigned to me by my superiors and crew.”
Toner nibbled his lip and offered Jaeger a shrug. “I dunno. He kind of looks like an Edwin to me.”
Jaeger shook her head sharply. “No. We’re not playing this game. This whole programming issue is creeping me out enough as it is. Let the kid pick out his name.”
“That option was not presented to me.” The boy’s puzzled look returned. “Are you not Tribe Six?”
“Your uploaded programs were a little out of date,” Toner said. “The situation out here in the real world has…evolved away from what your programmers envisioned.”
“Oh. Is something wrong?”
“We’re still trying to figure everything out,” Jaeger admitted. Then, worried about the possibility of another incident like the one with the alien AI, she quickly added: “We mean you no harm. We activated you because we need your help. We want to be your friends.”
“I don’t have much programming for a post-Tribe scenario,” the boy said pensively. “If you seek leadership, you should activate and augment one of the Neocrats.”
“We’re handling the leadership problem,” Jaeger said gently. “What we need is someone to handle the engines and shield generators. I know you’re young and probably pretty disoriented, but do you think you can help us?”
“I do know the engine and shield systems very well,” the boy agreed. “Assuming they haven’t changed, too.”
Jaeger’s shoulders slumped, releasing a burden she hadn’t known she was carrying. “That’s fantastic. I’m Captain Jaeger. This is First Mate Toner. What do you want us to call you?”
The boy cocked his head. “I’ll have to think about it. Just call me Occy for now.” His tentacles flexed, pulling him away from the pod and down to the cathedral floor like an elder horror beast from a Lovecraft story. Jaeger took a hasty step backward and was glad the kid didn’t seem to notice. He frowned at the overhead lights as his arms busied themselves gathering up his welcome kit. “The generators don’t seem to be running at full capacity. I should go check on them.”
“Um, yes…” Jaeger stared as the kid towed himself toward the starboard corridor. “I was…just going to suggest that.”
“I will be in the engine core if you need me.” Occy’s voice was dreamy as he turned the corner and slid out of view.
“That’s easily one of the top three strangest things I’ve seen today.” Toner grinned faintly.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Oh…I’m just relieved. Seems like knowledge of your origins is baked right into you if you’re pod-grown.” His smile broadened. “I think I’m a real boy after all. Just got me some aftermarket genetic modifications.”
Jaeger nodded and turned to the second activation tank to see a massive pair of yellow-green eyes fixed on her.
The creature within flexed, drawing its spine into a grotesque angle as it made a lazy stretch. Its long talons tapped idly along the inside of the tank with the strange, jerky motions of a spider. The flaps of flesh formerly plastered to its skull had opened into long translucent ears.
That’s the head of a hairless cat, Jaeger thought, transfixed as it blinked big eyes. Toner must have moved because the catman’s gaze snapped to him, his slit pupils exploding into massive dark circles.
“This one is creepier than the other,” Toner muttered as the catman dragged his long fingers and toes curiously over the inside of the pod.
“Not a cat person, are you?” Jaeger tried to keep her tone light as she began the unsealing sequence.
“No.” Toner shook out the second hospital gown, ready to receive its new owner. “But he sure is. I think I’m allergic.”
“Then it’s a good thing he’s hairless.”
There was another hiss of air as the pod swung open.
The cat-creature did not immediately tow itself free the way Occy had. It sat motionless in the tank, watching them over its curled wrists.
“Um. Hi.” Toner thrust out the hospital gown, looking everywhere except at the cat’s naked shape. “Good morning. Up and at ’em. Please put on some clothes.”
The creature regarded the offered gown impassively.
“Hello,” Jaeger tried, stepping a little closer. “I’m Captain Jaeger. This is First Mate Toner. I understand you’ve got a bunch of training downloaded into your brain. Unfortunately, most of it is…dated. Things are different from what you’re probably expecting, but it’s all right. We’re friendly, and we need your help.”
The creature’s massive ears twitched. It had the tiny, drawn face and flat nose of a Sphynx cat, and something about it—maybe the strange, hairless wrinkles, maybe its eerie, utter silence, or impossibly huge eyes—struck Jaeger as so very old. It was the sort of creature she might expect to find lurking in a cursed mummy’s tomb.
“Hey. Hey, can you hear me?” Toner waved a hand in front of the catman’s face.
With breathtaking speed and not a twitch of foreshadowing, it snatched Toner’s hand out of the air and caged it in those unnaturally long, claw-tipped fingers.
Jaeger had her multitool drawn, and plasma-cutter activated before she could stop herself.
Toner shouted, his free arm drawing back, winding up a retaliatory punch. Catman lifted his other hand and spread his claws wide in front of him, an open-handed gesture for a truce.
Toner hesitated for a split second. The cat released his hand, and the vampire stepped back, posture slackening but eyes sharp and bright.
“Serial number alpha-one-four-nine-two-six,” the cat whispered. It had a soft, sandy voice, like a desert wind.
Jaeger let her grip on the multitool loosen, but she decided not to holster it yet. Nor did she step any closer. “Sphynx,” she said without thinking.
Toner shot her a betrayed look. “So much for letting them pick their names.”
The cat’s eyes flickered from Toner to her, his pupils dilating and then contracting again to slits. “As you wish, Captain.” She caught the faintest hint of a lisp in its voice. “What is my assignment?”
“Well, you can start by putting on some clothes.” In the excitement, Toner had released the proffered hospital gown. Jaeger plucked it from where it drifted and handed it over.
The cat-creature moved lazily, pulling itself into unnaturally sharp stretches as it slipped out of the tube.
“Showoff,” Toner muttered, watching Sphynx fold himself nearly in half.
“Do you even have bones?” Jaeger couldn’t help but ask.
“Yes.” Sphynx straightened, rolling his shoulder blades as he tied the front of his hospital gown closed. “This is insufficient. What is my barracks assignment? I will go equip myself appropriately from the armory.”
“There are no barracks assignments,” Jaeger admitted. “We lost the general crew quarters to a hull breach. Right now we are improvising.”
Sphynx studied her with those unnaturally round cat-eyes as he drifted serenely over the pod. “Unfortunate.”
“It is.” Toner cleared his throat and drew himself up. “The good news is we have a plan for patching up the hull. We’re running short on time, which is why we needed to activate a few more crew members.”
“What is the plan?”
Jaeger patted Toner on the shoulder. “The first mate is going to brief you. I need to go make sure the droids are ready for deployment.”
Toner opened his mouth, doubtless to complain, but Jaeger spun away and strode out of No-A. The damn cat’s liquid stare made the hair on the back of her neck stand, and she needed s
ome space to process the fact that she was the only vaguely normal human among the unholy abominations that comprised her crew.
Besides, if the vampire wanted to be first mate, he would have to get used to not arguing with her in front of the crew. Over her shoulder, she called, “Toner, make sure he’s shuttle-ready in forty minutes.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Osprey soared through a field of scattered asteroids, deploying squads of reprogrammed repair droids in her wake. The robots fanned out behind the ship, turning like glistening dewdrops in the sunlight before flaring to life and beginning a carefully coordinated descent to one of the larger asteroids. They shrank into the deep crevasses and craters of the massive chunk of space rock, falling into shadow to begin their dull harvesting mission.
The Osprey’s thrusters activated, altering her trajectory toward the heart of the system, and the living blue-green planet huddled near the red dwarf. Virgil had been correct. There was no radio chatter spilling up from this planet. Whatever creatures lived on it hadn’t yet developed the tools to make themselves heard.
The Osprey took up a geosynchronous orbit over a large landmass in the planet’s southern hemisphere, and after a few minutes of final checks and planning, a large bay door on her port wing slid open.
The shuttle that slid into space was long and slender like a freight truck. The arching sweep of the Osprey’s port wing dwarfed the shuttle as it activated thrusters and began an atmospheric descent.
“Virgil, play…” Jaeger nibbled her lip. “Imperial March, from A New Hope.”
A deep sigh issued from the speakers in the shuttle cab, followed by a bellow of trumpets loud enough to rattle bone.
In his seat beside Jaeger, Sphynx hissed and reached up to shield his massive ears. Jaeger turned down the volume control and offered her new crewmate an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Virgil likes to fuck with the volume.”
“Impudent,” Sphynx murmured in his soft, dry voice.
Toner had found a skintight, matte-black flight suit for the catman, as well as a utility belt equipped with all the standard gear they’d been able to piece together. Sphynx had adapted quickly to the equipment and his new life. He studied the shuttle console spread before them, his freakishly large eyes punctured by massive, round pupils, as he ran delicate, clawed fingers over the instruments.
“Yeah, he’s kind of an asshole.” Jaeger half-wished the AI hadn’t patched itself into the shuttle computer but supposed it was for the best. Communicating with the Osprey while planet-side would be a great deal harder without said impudent AI.
“So.” She studied the descent trajectory on screen. “You know how to pilot this thing?”
“Of course, Captain.”
“Good.” She switched full control to the copilot’s chair and unstrapped herself from the harness holding her steady. “Give me two minutes, then begin the descent. I’m going to check on Toner.”
Sphynx silently nodded as Jaeger pushed herself through the doorway into the cargo hold.
The cargo hold, when empty, had surprisingly good acoustics. The dramatic thrum of trumpets and clash of cymbals bounced along the walls, giving a surround-sound experience.
“This is great,” Jaeger called. “We could have music night in here.”
Toner looked up from where he was checking on the line of reprogrammed droids. He slipped his computer back to his belt and rubbed the back of his neck restlessly. “I recognize this song. Isn’t it the bad guy music?”
“It’s the cool music.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Toner cast a furtive glance at the sealed door behind her. He waved her closer and let his voice drop. “What do you think of the furball?”
Jaeger had to lean in close to hear him over the music. “What furball?”
Toner rolled his eyes and gestured in the direction of the cab.
“He’s hairless.”
“Yet he still manages to smell like a wet cat. Keep your eye on him, Jaeger. You can’t trust a guy who doesn’t blink.”
“I’ve seen him blink.”
“Yeah, but only on purpose.” Toner scowled. “Like when he’s trying to show you exactly how stupid he thinks you are.”
Jaeger sighed. “I don’t have time to nurse your male ego right now. Please play nice until we’re in the clear.”
The ever-present hum of the engines suddenly kicked into a high screech as the shuttle encountered the first resistance of the upper atmosphere. The music vanished.
“Fifteen seconds to atmospheric re-entry,” Sphynx hissed over the speakers.
Toner grabbed Jaeger by the shoulder and pushed her toward the cab. She scrambled willingly. The two of them barely managed to buckle into their seats on either side of the wide-eyed pilot before the hull began to rattle.
“Do you even know how to fly?” Toner demanded, lifting his voice over the howl.
Sphynx stared at the console, his hands firm on the thruster controls. The display screen curving around them flared white as the atmosphere began to burn. Jaeger double-checked the readings and found everything within acceptable parameters. “He knows how to fly.” She reached overhead to activate the brake flap controls. “Atmospheric flight is always rough. Braking thrusters ready.”
“Hold.” Sphynx stared ahead as the shuttle plummeted downward. The clouds parted, and a massive swath of living green forest came into view. Thin, twisting lines of blue and gray river cut across endless forests.
“Oh crap,” Toner said, as the shuttle nose tipped downward and real, honest-to-God gravity crushed them into their seats. “Crap,” he called over the growing noise. “I don’t see a good landing site, do you?”
“Landing site selected,” Sphynx said calmly as the shuttle tipped near-vertical.
“Where?” Toner spread his hands out in front of him as if he could stop the trees hurtling at them at several times the speed of sound.
“Directly below.”
“That?” Toner gaped at the patch of bare ground. From here, it looked about the size of a postage stamp.
Sphynx didn’t answer. Jaeger swallowed hard. All of her organs wanted to detach from her body and float away. It was that glorious moment on a roller coaster, right at the base of the big hill, where you were weightless and for a second, very sure you were about to die.
“We’re going to crash,” Toner said simply, staring blank-eyed at the screen as the ground hurtled toward them. The bald patch in the forest below shimmered faintly gray in the bright sunlight, a rich mineral vein near the surface.
Jaeger laughed, wild, hysterical, and joyful.
“Landing thrusters on my mark.” Sphynx sounded as enthusiastic as he might if he were standing in line at the DMV.
Jaeger caught her wits and grabbed the controls. “Ready.”
“Hold.”
“Fucking hell dude, really?” Toner, giddy and terrified and apparently at an utter loss, pressed his eyes shut and turned his head away as if gravity wouldn’t crush him to a paste if he couldn’t see it happen. “Shit. Shiiiit,” he said through clenched teeth.
Jaeger felt the thrill creep toward terror as she watched the altitude reading tick closer and closer to zero. Four kilometers. Three.
She glanced nervously at Sphynx, wondering if the impassive creature had frozen—or if she’d made a terrible mistake.
Two kilometers. She could make out the distinct shapes of massive trees and sprays of bright blue ferns the size of circus tents.
One—
“Now.”
Jaeger’s fists clenched over the thruster controls. The shuttle screamed as its nose wrenched abruptly upward, flinging everyone hard against their harnesses. Toner screeched. Jaeger might have, as well. Darkness crowded the corner of her vision as the G-forces did something nasty to her blood pressure. She choked, fighting for breath.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, the shuttle settled into a gentle horizontal position and landed.
Everything went silent, except for the distant
hiss of the shuttle’s landing gear adjusting for stability above the mineral vein.
“Holy shit.” Toner’s voice came out in a squeak.
Jaeger waited for her heart to start beating again, then let her head fall backward and laughed. “Leave your balls somewhere up in the atmosphere, Toner?”
Toner turned a wide-eyed stare on her.
Between them, Sphynx slipped out of his harness and stood. Moving smoothly, he turned and went into the cargo hold.
Toner and Jaeger weren’t so lucky. They both staggered and trembled as they fought to get their legs working again.
“You feel that?” Jaeger grabbed Toner’s arm for support and grinned, stomping the floor. “Gravity. Real-deal.”
Toner sucked in a trembling breath and nodded as he led them back into the cargo hold.
Sphynx was near the back of the hold, kneeling beside the repair droids. He spared them a glance. “I landed us directly on top of the ore vein the AI described,” he whispered. “This should not take long.”
“Yeah,” Jaeger said. “Nice landing, too. Very smooth.”
Toner shot her a glare, but she ignored it in favor of powering up her personal computer. “Virgil? You there?”
The AI’s voice blurred with a faint haze of static. “Yes.”
“There’s a bit of atmospheric interference in communications like we expected, but it’s not too bad. How’s my ship?”
“All is quiet on the Osprey,” Virgil grumbled. “Except for the terrible clanging noise in the generator bay. The child is making some physical modifications to the shield generator conduits. I’ve already checked. They are reasonable changes.” Unfortunately went unspoken.
“All right. Do you have any updated readings from the planet?”
There was a brief pause. “I’ve patched into the shuttle’s sensors. They’re not as powerful as the ones on the Osprey, but they have the benefit of being immersed in the environment. I still don’t detect any radio chatter, but…”