by Rob Dearsley
It started toward her again. She aimed at its legs and fired. Her shots knocked the creature’s legs from beneath it, dumping it onto the deck.
“Come on,” Luc called.
More creatures spilled into the compartment, screaming. Arland leapt for the ladder. She hit it hard and slid down, two floors passing as a blur. Luc stood at the bottom. Crap. She tried to call a warning, but it was too late, and they went down in a tangle of limbs.
“Make them pay for what they’ve done!” the computer screamed, almost incoherent with rage.
“We didn’t do anything.” Luc helped Arland to her feet.
She checked herself, her pack was still there. The weight reassuring her that this was all worth it. Her gun swung on its strap, half a clip left.
More creatures charged into the corridor behind them. They both turned, firing their weapons on full auto, spilling rounds into the aliens to little effect. Arland clipped one in the head and it tumbled backwards. She didn’t have time to be relieved or to feel much of anything. The creatures continued to advance, unconcerned by the bullets bouncing off their bodies.
Arland’s gun clicked empty. Damn, she should have been keeping track of her shots. For the first time, fear spiked through her thoughts like a knife. “Run.”
They bolted down the corridor, back to the docking bay and the Folly.
◊◊
“Time’s up,” Hale said from the back of the bridge.
“What?” Dannage spun his chair to face her. He’d been avoiding looking at her since she’d come around. She intimidated him. Her size, her raw physicality. If he didn’t look at her he could imagine she was just a normal person and not this seven-foot giant who could probably rip him in half.
She had her head bowed over the console, grimacing in pain. “It’s waking up,” she said through clenched teeth. “It’s calling to them. I can hear it.”
What the heck? How could she hear it? What was it? He didn’t understand. Had thousands of years in cryo-sleep driven her crazy?
“Hale? What’s going on? Do you want me to get the doc?”
“It’s the Core Mind. It’s waking. We have to get out of here.”
“Not without Luc and Arland.” He turned and hit the com. “Luc, where are you guys?”
“Ten minutes out. We’re coming in hot.” Arland replied.
“Wait, where’s Luc?”
There was no reply. He turned back to Hale, she was practically curled over the console, her arms wrapped around her head.
Stars damn it, what was going on? He slammed the internal com switch harder than was necessary. Perhaps this was why Arland was so grouchy after his sojourn on the Heimdall.
“Jax, what’s going on? Doc, something’s up with Hale, get to the bridge.”
“On my way.”
“I’m not sure. Power levels are almost back to normal across the ship. There’s something odd going on. There’s a mass similar the one we saw on the Heimdall. It’s getting hotter and drawing a lot of power from the system. The way it's routing data packets, it almost looks like an autonomous management system.”
“Keep me posted.”
“Will do.” Jax cut the com-line from her end.
Nervous energy left Dannage practically bouncing in his chair. Everything was happening so fast. Events swirled out of control all around him and he could barely keep up, let alone know what to do next. He felt helpless, powerless. His adrenaline soared. He had to do something.
The doc hurried in, a small med-pack over his shoulder. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Dannage almost screamed in exasperation. “She said something about the Core Mind. It looks like she’s in pain.”
The doc knelt down next to Hale, talking in hushed tones that Dannage couldn’t make out. He went back to watching the cargo bay.
Come on Arland.
A noise from the back of the bridge made Dannage turn. Vaughn was helping Hale to stand.
“I want to get her to medical. The scanners there might be able to give me more information as to how this link works.”
Dannage nodded and was about to turn when Hale lunged forward, grabbing him by the shirtfront. He froze. Images of her ripping his head off flashed in his mind's eye.
“They’re coming,” she gasped, before falling back into Vaughn’s arms.
Dannage turned back to the windows, thinking she meant Luc and Arland. The doors slid open and for a second his heart soared. Then the creatures poured in, dozens of them.
“Stars,” he breathed. There was nothing they could do but hope the creatures didn’t find a way into the Folly.
◊◊
Arland ran awkwardly, Luc leaning heavily against her, trying to keep the weight off his wounded leg. She blindly fired her weapon behind them with her free hand. She didn’t have a chance of hitting anything, but it might give the creatures pause.
Who was she kidding? Shooting them hadn’t phased the creatures.
The docking bay doors slid open at their approach, revealing a scene of utter chaos. More of the creatures swarmed across the bay and over the Folly. Cursing their rotten luck, she hefted Luc and headed in. Luckily for them, the creatures seemed more interested in the Folly than in them. For now, at least.
She turned to Luc. “If you go for the Folly, I’ll open the bay door.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll never make the Folly with this leg. You go, I’ll get the door.” Before she could argue further, he was up, stumbling across the bay toward the console.
He almost fell, but kept moving, steadying himself on a crate. One of the creatures came at him. He twisted to fire at it, getting off a burst that caught the creature in the head, sending it sprawling. The twist put him on his left leg and he went down with a cry of pain. The struggle drew the attention of more of the creatures.
“Damn it.” Arland pushed up into a run, firing as she went. She aimed for the creatures’ legs, the shots tripping them and stalling their charge. She grabbed Luc and hauled him up. “Come on. Let’s get this done.”
They moved across the bay as fast as they could, firing into the creatures’ legs to keep them at bay. They were pushing their luck in trick shooting the creatures, but it was better than nothing.
Finally, they reached the console.
She dumped Luc at the console’s base. “You’d better hang on.”
Snapping her helmet closed, she clambered up onto the crate. It was stupid, but she couldn’t see another way out. More of the creatures were coming for them. They must have known what was Arland was planning. She pushed the lever up.
The rushing wind slammed into her and almost sent her flying. She grabbed the console and hung on for dear life. A glance up showed crates and creatures flying across the bay toward the small crack in the door. One of the creatures whipped past them, grabbing Luc. It couldn’t keep hold, but it was enough to knock Luc’s grip loose. He started to slip. She shifted her hold on the lip of the console, grabbed his hand and hung on for all she was worth, begging all the Stars in the heavens for it to end soon. The pitch of the roaring changed. She risked a glance up to see the Folly lift off. Her landing struts retracted as she shifted within the bay, coming toward them.
◊◊
Dannage slammed the ship forward, into the corner above Arland and Luc. He felt the grinding of metal through the deck, winced at the protesting groan of the ship as she scraped along the walls.
“Vaughn, open the bay doors,” he called, checking the camera feeds. He was almost into position. Stars, please let there be enough room. The console chirped, indicating the Folly’s bay door was open. More scraping as he pushed the ship further into the corner. There it was. He drove the ship down vertically, crushing several crates and more than a couple of the creatures.
“We’ve got them.” The doc’s voice came over the com. “Closing the door.”
As Dannage pulled the Folly from the corner, rust flaked away and scattered. He hoped from the Terran ship. He spun
her around. The bay door was just high enough for them to fit through.
There was a shudder, Dannage’s ears popped, and a wash of blue replaced the stars outside.
“What the heck?” Dannage looked at the blue haze beyond the cargo bay door.
“What’s going on?” Arland asked, bustling onto the bridge. Most of her space suit was still in place, her hair mussed from the helmet.
He hit the com switch. “Jax, what just happened?”
“Not sure, it looks like some sort of subspace tunnelling effect, possibly using quantum gravity shifting. There was definitely a jump in inertial mass just before we transitioned.”
“Subspace? Like the highways?” Dannage latched on to one of the few words he recognised. “What would happen if we tried to leave now?”
“Um, even if it were the regular subspace highways it would probably end badly for us. As their subspace FTL – assuming that what this even is – is unlikely to work on similar principles. I can only speculate, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Damn. He pounded the dash. They were stuck in this loading dock. No way out, surrounded by aliens, or whatever they were.
“Sir?”
He looked over to Arland; the concern in her eyes stung at his pride.
“I don’t know what to do.” He looked away.
She looked past him out the window. “I think we need to ask Hale some pointed questions.”
Her tone was filled with a biting cold, and an odd mix of nerves and anger he hadn’t seen in the ex-military officer before.
“What happened?” He asked, finally meeting her eyes. They looked so haunted.
“We found some other Terran officers. Dead.”
“And?” He rose, taking a step toward her, about to reach for her, but stopping himself.
“They were… changing.” She turned away, raking her fingers through her hair. “They were turning into those things.” Anger burned through the frost as her voice rose. She spun back pointing out the window.
He turned, looking after her pointing finger, not understanding. The bay was mostly empty, the decompression having blown all the containers and most of the creatures into space.
The creatures. His eyes widened as understanding hit him like a freight train, leaving him breathless and dizzy. Was that why Hale could hear the voices?
“Well, we’re not going anywhere for the time being.” He forced a jovial tone, trying to diffuse the tension. “So, let’s go talk to Hale”
The pair kicked off into the freefall of the Folly's hold, where Luc was packing away his suit.
“Cap’n,” he called out to them. “I’ve passed the conductor wire onto Jax, and she says she’ll have the highway drive back up in about half an hour.”
“Good work. Although it’s not much use right now,” Dannage said. “We’re going to get some answers from Hale, want to come?”
“Yes, yes I would.” Luc kicked off, drifting across the bay to join them. Dannage let Arland go first, then followed her, leaving Luc to bring up the rear.
◊◊
Arland marched over to the far side of the med bay, waiting for the captain and Luc join her.
When they were all in, she looked to the captain. He was in charge here. He looked back to her, putting the ball back in her court. She’d had enough interrogations to know what to do but was afraid she’d lose control. She was hanging on by a thread as it was.
“We have some questions.” Keep it simple, try not to become too invested.
“I don’t think now is the time.” Vaughn stepped between them and his patient. “I’ve only just got her stable.”
“I have to insist,” the captain said, his voice tight.
After a moment, Vaughn relented, stepping back to give them space, his expression sour and disapproving. Luc’s gaze gave nothing away, while the captain looked on, expectant. All eyes were on her and Hale.
“Commander, we have some questions?” She stepped forward. The Terran looked smaller somehow.
“What do you want to know, Lieutenant?” Hale’s voice sounded strained, tired.
“We know something changed the crew.”
“Don’t worry. It won’t affect you if that’s what you’re scared of.”
Arland was taken aback. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that whatever it was might be infectious. “How did it happen? Who did it to you?”
Hale took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “It’s complicated. It was never meant to be like that.”
The captain cut in. “What do you mean?”
“We were all engineered, gnetically enhanced to make us stronger, faster, bigger. But somehow, nascent elements of the code were activated.”
“Somehow?” Luc asked.
“I’ll tell you everything.” Hale rolled over, putting her back to them as she began.
Interlude One
- TIN-D Heimdal, 50,000 years ago -
Idon't want to think about it – not now. So, I walk the Heimdall’s corridors on autopilot, my feet carrying me along.
What was he thinking? No, that was it – he wasn’t. He was crazy, caught up in the heat of the moment.
I try to focus on the present, the scratch of the uniform against my skin. The hush of the air circulators, the sweet, metallic tang of the recycled air.
Before I know it, I’m on the forward observation deck. The whole of the fifth fleet, nearly five thousand capital ships and their escorts, are arrayed in front of me. Hanging in space behind them, the blue supergiant – an A-5 sequence star – looms. I love the way the light plays off the hulls of our ships, making them glimmer. We’re all ready for action. Although what that will be, we haven’t been told yet.
I can feel the ship’s status feeds in the back of my mind. The telepathic link with the ship’s Core Mind gives me instant access to status updates. I open it now, probing the weapons readiness. The smooth voice of the Mind caresses my thoughts, and I know the weapons systems are on standby, charged, loaded and ready to go. Apart from one module on the port side that’s having its power couplings replaced. I know this like I know my own name, information integrated so smoothly, I’m never quite sure where I end and the ship begins.
I push the link to the back of my mind. It’s still there, but now, it’s no more present than the hush of the life support, or the scratch of my uniform. Background noise lost amidst my own thoughts.
I look away from the view, down to my clenched fist, and slowly uncurl my fingers. It’s still there, the sight of it glittering on my palm brings back the turbulence of emotion. Where had he even gotten a ring from anyway? How long had he been planning this?
I guess the ball is in my court now. Yes or no, it’s my choice. All mine.
“Commander Hale, to the bridge.” The voice from the com isn’t the fluid, rich voice of the Core, but rougher. That was the captain all over. Rough.
“On my way, sir.” I shove the ring into my pocket, trying to push the proposal that came with it aside, for now at least. If the captain found out, he’d kill us both, or worse.
I ride the tram down the Heimdall’s spine to the base of the bridge tower. Then, its two different lifts to get to the main bridge at the top.
Out of habit, I pause on the way in to press my hand against the ship’s dedication plaque. “To stand on each planet and look to the next” is stamped into the cool alloy. A nod to nobler times. The old ritual helps centre me for what’s to come.
The captain is waiting for me. He, like his uniform, is starched rigid. Around him, the bridge crew moves from station to station with a hushed murmuring. The captain remains still, a single point of reference amidst this sea of motion. Like a rock in the ocean.
“Sir?” I approach him, watching carefully for the tell-tail signs. Trying to read him was like trying to read a statue.
“XO.” That’s all he ever calls me – XO. Recognition of my position, nothing more. Sometimes, I wish he were one of those personable captains I’d worked for in the past. But it
’s all part of the package, and he is the best captain in the Defence Federation. I’m lucky to serve under him.
And speaking of being under people, I look around. Matthews isn’t there, and for that I’m grateful. I’m terrified that if the captain finds out, I’ll be out on my ear, and the captain’s too sharp not to notice.
“Sir.” I return his salute, waiting as he scrutinises me. He knows something’s up.
“We’ve got orders from DFHQ.” He hands me a flex-screen. “We’re to jump to System CTX 1173-1525. HQ has lost contact with a patrol in that system. A pair of prototype super cruisers. They’ve got fourth-generation Core Minds.”
Fourth gen? I didn’t think they’d released the third-gen minds yet.
“Are we expecting trouble, sir?”
He gives me the tiniest smile. “We always expect trouble. We’re to take second, third and fourth divisions.”
That was a lot of ships. We’d be taking over half the fleet.
“Three thousand ships, sir?”
“They’re prototypes. HQ’s not going to take any chances.” He gestures for me to move closer, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve heard rumours of black ops involvement.”
That makes my mind reel. Actual black ops teams running prototype ships. Surely, they’d have been running dark anyway. How would DFHQ know they were out of contact?
The captain must have seen the questions running across my face. “Only answers we’re going to get are in 1173-1525. Make the ship ready, XO.”
“Yes, sir.” I salute and turn away, handing out orders to the officers around the bridge, prepping the ship for jump.
My flex tells me that Captain Rochev, on the heavy carrier Odin, is in charge of the battle group. At my station, I open a link with the Core Mind on the Odin, updating our readiness status.
◊◊
I’m in my quarters, staring at the overhead when we jump. I feel the slight tremor through my cot. I’ve got the ring in my hand. I still don’t know what to do with it. We’ve got four hours in jump-space before we reach 1173-1525. The system designations are a pain. I’m not sure when we changed from actual names to the coordinate-based nomenclature.