by Allen Stroud
“You think there are more in Engineering?” Travers asks.
I shrug and wince at the extra pain. “Whether there are or not, the only way we’re going to get the Gallowglass under control is to make use of the consoles down there. I can’t pilot the ship from here.” I gaze at the terminal. “There’s something else you need to know. I think Duggins might still be alive on the Khidr.”
“You hear from him?”
“Not exactly.” I explain the signals from the anomalies and the interference with the radio comms. “I think Rocher was collecting the anomalies. I think that’s one of the reasons they chased us. They couldn’t risk anyone knowing about them.”
“And the fact that we happened to pick one up.”
“That happened after all this had already begun.” I wave at the screen. “One of you needs to take over and stay on comms with the captain.”
Travers nods and slips in front of me, blocking the screen from view. Sam touches my shoulder. “Tell me how to help Chiu,” he says.
I glance at her strapped into the acceleration chair. Beneath her oxygen mask, her face is ashen. She’s not woken up since we got here. “Hopefully, you brought an intravenous rig in your bag? You need to run a line into her and rig it to a battery pump.”
“Okay.” Sam starts digging into one of the bags. He pulls out a needle and syringe, rolls back Chiu’s sleeve and taps her inner arm, trying to expose a vein. This procedure is something we’ve all trained to do. On Earth, the pump wouldn’t be necessary – gravity has its uses.
“Once you’re finished with her, set me up with the same,” I say and shift slightly so I can see the terminal as Travers is operating it. “I set up a laser sweep to track the debris. It’s all being drawn back to the remains of the Khidr. If we don’t get the engines working, we could end up drawn back there.”
“You’re right and it’s already begun. We’re being pulled in as well.” Travers expands the window and zooms in on the representation of the Khidr. “If Duggins is there, can we contact him and get him to turn it off?”
“The radio blackout was the only response I got. I can’t be sure he’s alive.”
Travers stares at the screen. “You said you think the anomalies are communicating. Would that make them living beings?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“It may explain what they want, to be reunited.” Travers pulls up the schematic with the Gallowglass’s deck plan. I can see Shann and the others, their bio tags flashing in the corridor where I last saw them. “If we could eject that corridor, we could make that happen.”
“But we can’t eject that corridor while the captain and the others—”
Travers turns to look at me. “Depending how things go, we may have to.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Shann
I’m standing outside of a locked door, watching Sellis die, his face pressed into the DuraGlas window as he drowns in his own blood.
Behind him, two Rochers are in the corridor. They’re working on the boxes, opening them up.
The anger within me bubbles up. I want to get in there and get my hands on the enemy. “We need to get this door open,” I growl.
“Aye, aye,” Arkov says. He’s inputting the override access into the control panel, but Le Garre lays her hand on his arm.
“Wait a minute,” she says.
“Major, we need to—”
“What are you going to do if you get in there?” Le Garre demands. She pushes her way in front, blocking us both from the door controls and the sickening view. “Sellis is dead already. Think! We need a plan!”
I take a deep breath, trying to get calm, but the rage won’t go away. I remember the gun on my belt, but I don’t want to use it. I want to get at these men with my hands and teeth. “Think of something,” I manage to spit out.
“We need time,” Le Garre says. “They’ve moved out of the engine room. We can seal them in.” She touches the comms bead on her neck. “Le Garre to Johansson.”
“This is Travers, receiving.”
“What happened to Johansson?”
“She’s here. We had an encounter with one of the Gallowglass crew. Situation is stable.”
“Okay.” Le Garre looks at me. “We need you to seal the doors between Engineering and the exterior corridor that had the pressure drop and lock out the manual override. Two more of the Gallowglass crew are in that space.”
“Our sensors show Sellis is still in there.”
“Sellis is dead.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath and some discussion on the other end before Travers replies, “Okay, yes, we should be able to do that, but it’ll take time.”
“Then we need to keep them in the corridor,” I say and move forward to the other side of the door. The emergency two-way intercom is right in front of me. I flip the switch and activate it. “This is Captain Shann of the Fleet registered patrol ship Khidr. I think it’s time we talked.”
As soon as they hear the words, both Rochers react. They stop their work and turn toward the door. There’s some soundless discussion between them before one approaches the intercom and flips the switch to answer. “What do you want, Captain?”
“To negotiate. Neither of us can survive this where we stand.”
Rocher smiles. “You have misread the situation, Captain, as you appear to have misread many situations over the last few days. I assure you, our capacity for maintaining our continued existence is not yet exhausted.”
I stare at the clone, looking into those mocking eyes. “You’re the leader, aren’t you?” I say. “You’re the one who’s been running this all along.”
The two Rochers look at each other. The one who replied shrugs. His smile disappears. “Yes, since I have been awake throughout the voyage, I suppose you would call me leader of this crew.”
“Okay, leader. If you’re so sure of yourself, why have you been chasing us all this time?”
“You know why, Captain. Much like your ship, the Khidr, the Gallowglass was commissioned by Fleet to deal with problems. When you made the choice to interfere in our mission, you betrayed your crew and condemned them to death.”
“I was following orders.”
“Yes, you were, but then you were given specific alternative instructions, which you ignored.”
I can feel Le Garre’s gaze on me. Arkov’s too. I remember the message we received from Admiral Langsley, ordering us to stand down. Rocher’s accusation is true. This is a revelation to my people, a violation of the trust they’ve placed in me as their captain. I can’t address them and show weakness in front of our enemy. “Our mandate remains clear. You murdered people Fleet is supposed to protect.”
“We executed proven traitors, Captain.” Rocher gestures to Sellis’s floating corpse. “We are still executing traitors.”
I’m aware that Le Garre is talking on the comms to Travers on a secure channel. Arkov has maneuvered himself into a position below the window. He has opened up the microphone panel with a small screwdriver and pulled out the leads. I can’t look at him. If I do, Rocher will know something is up. “The Hercules is a supply freighter for the colonies. Your actions have condemned thousands to starvation and poverty. You can’t say to me your attack on them was sanctioned by Fleet.”
“Captain, you must realise by now you’re involved in a game that is far bigger than you, your crew and your ruined ship.” Rocher leans forward so his face is inches from the glass. “Millions of lives are at stake here. Those who live now and those who will live in the future.”
“Clones, like you?”
“People, Captain Shann, people given the chance to live. What is coming – what you are unwittingly supporting – will break our species.” Rocher smiles again, but there’s a fierceness to him now that belies any humour in the expression. “History will remember that the Hercu
les had an accident in deep space. A rescue ship was dispatched and retrieved the vessel, finding its crew all dead. After some repairs, the freighter proceeded on its course. There will be no trace of the illegal goods they were smuggling to a secret base on the edge of the asteroid belt. There will be no mention of the Gallowglass and the Khidr. The status quo will be maintained.”
“Sooner or later what really happened will get out.”
“No, Captain, it won’t.” The second clone taps the first on the shoulder. I can see the boxes are open; the impossibly black shapes of the two anomalies are drifting freely in the corridor. “We’re done here, Captain Shann. Whatever you hoped to gain from talking to me is irrelevant.” Rocher reaches forward to the switch on the intercom.
“Now, Arkov!” Le Garre shouts.
Instinctively, I glance down. Arkov has the Taser wired into the panel. As Rocher touches the control, Arkov activates the electric charge. Instantly, the clone’s face goes slack, and his body begins to spasm.
“Travers, get this door open!” Le Garre screams.
The panel slides away and all the anger within me wells up. I charge into the room, grabbing the second Rocher by the throat and slamming him backward into the wall. He struggles. There’s blood coming from his forehead. I’m exhausted; my actions were fueled by rage and the last of my desperate strength. By rights, he should be able to overpower me.
But I refuse to let go.
He tries to break my hold. A fist crashes into my face, snapping my nose and sending us both tumbling through the air, toward a set of storage compartments. I manage to duck and twist, dashing his face against them while keeping a choking grip around his windpipe. The fury is a hot breath in my throat.
This ends now, in my hands!
He tries to turn me, to gouge at my eyes, to sap the strength from me. I can feel all the injuries from before, the muscles in my shoulder screaming at me to stop, the dull ache in my left arm, but I don’t stop, I can’t. I have to make everything right, do what they would do to me, execute and erase every question about my choices. Make the sacrifice of my crew right.
Die!
More hands on my shoulders, an arm around my waist, pulling at me, trying to get me to let go. I hear words, from far away. “Captain, let go, he’s had enough…”
I’m not letting go. There’s something within me, pouring all my pent-up emotions into this. I can see all the faces of my dead crew. Drake, Tomlins, Thakur, Lendowski, all of them. All of my guilt over their deaths focused into this moment, this action.
Finally, I see Jacobson again. I hear his screams as the drone murders him under my command. This time there is no confusion. This man is my enemy, the enemy of everyone I care about.
The Rocher in my hands has stopped struggling. His eyes are bulging, his expression vacant, pleading and resigned. His gaze slips away from mine toward something unseen and unknowable. His lips move, then go slack.
“Captain Shann…”
I recognise the voice. I turn and glance at the speaker. It’s Major Angel Le Garre. She’s staring at me. In that moment, the anger evaporates, and my hands relax.
What have I done?
Le Garre doesn’t look away. Her gaze holds mine. “Captain, we need to get to the engine room,” she says.
I nod and follow her, my focus on her back as she moves out of the corridor and into the space beyond. Without the rage, all I feel is shame and a strange sense of dislocation. I can’t look around and accept what I’ve done, the act that makes me part of the problem, not part of the solution.
Arkov is here, in the operations chair, talking quietly over the comms. He doesn’t look at me. For a moment, I think of Duggins, our engineer, left behind on our ruined ship. Another soul who didn’t deserve…
“Captain, Ensign Johansson has given us instructions on patching the console from here through to the terminal in airlock control. We can operate the engines, but based on her calculations, it’s going to take thirty per cent of our remaining fuel to execute a burn that will get us clear of the tractor effect,” Le Garre explains. “The problem is the effect’s strength is increasing. We’ve no guarantee that—”
I hold my hand up and suddenly find my voice. “Jettison the anomalies,” I say. “Analyse the reaction, then power up the engines.”
“Okay, but—”
“Just get it done, Major!”
“Of course, Captain.”
I can feel her gaze on me. Arkov is judging me as well as he slips out of the chair and goes back to the corridor to help her. They leave me alone in here, in the beating heart of the monster.
* * *
I look around at the walls, the control systems, the containers, ducting, lighting, atmospheric regulation, all of it. I want to get my fingers into it and start tearing the place apart. This is the enemy too. Everything that has broken me, murdered my crew, wrecked my ship, ruined my life, it all comes from here. But the only chance we have of surviving is if we make this ship work for us.
I can’t get Sellis’s face out of my mind. That expression of baffled hurt as he was pressed up against the DuraGlas as he died. I didn’t trust him after what he did, but we were both working on it, trying to repair and rebuild the ties between us.
I see Jacobson again and taste bile. He died; they all died.
What I did to the Rocher clone did nothing to change any of that. It didn’t change how I feel either.
I feel the ship moving. The acceleration is gradual, making me drift across the room to the far wall. They must have done what I said. I wonder if it worked.
“Ellisa?”
I look up. There’s a shadowed figure standing by the hatch. For a moment, I think it’s my father, magically transported all the way from Earth to hack at my conscience along with everything else, but then the figure moves into the light.
“Sam?”
“Yeah.” Sam is in the room. He closes the hatch behind him and approaches me. “The objects are out and we’re moving the ship away. Looks like we won.”
“What did we win?” I blurt out the question before I’ve thought about the answer. Sam’s always had that effect on me, dismantling my cool officer’s reserve before I’ve realised what’s going on. That’s why we’ve always been close.
“We’re alive.”
“For how long?”
“I guess that depends on us.”
I’m looking at him, searching for any kind of reaction, some way in which we’ve changed, but there isn’t anything I can see. That heartens me. Same old Sam.
I push myself up and away from the wall. “We’ll need to inventory this ship, get a sense of what we have, then try and plot a course to Phobos. I don’t want to leave until we’re sure there’s no one left to rescue.”
“I’ll need your sidearm, Captain.”
The words are spoken in the same gentle tone, but they send a shiver right through me. “Something you want to say, Sergeant?” I ask.
Sam shakes his head. “With Keiyho dead, I’m the ranking weapons specialist, Captain. We’re not under immediate threat, so there’s no need for the deployment of personal weapons.” The words are delivered calmly and correctly. The procedures behind them are clear and accurate, but I can’t help think…
No. We’re not going to start mistrusting everyone.
I unclip the pistol, flip the safety switch and offer it to Sam handle first. “Here.”
Chapter Sixty
Johansson
“How are you feeling, Ensign?”
Slowly, I open my eyes. I’m in the medical room, strapped to one of the beds. Lieutenant Travers and Major Le Garre are nearby. It’s the lieutenant who’s speaking to me.
“Feeling better now,” I say, forcing the words past a thick and lazy tongue. I push myself up onto my elbows. I remember what happened before. A lot of pain and intense c
oncentration while I coached Travers through removing shrapnel from my left side.
Some of the painkillers haven’t worn off and I still feel sluggish. I glance to my right. Chiu is lying in another bed, still unconscious. “How long have I been out?” I ask.
“Six hours, as you insisted,” Travers replies.
“Anything happen to Chiu?”
“No.”
“Then what have I missed?”
Travers looks at Le Garre. She shakes her head, and something I don’t understand passes between them. He starts talking. “The external force subsided about thirty minutes after we pushed the anomalies out of the airlock. We’ve moved to three hundred kilometres from the remains of the Khidr and stopped. Arkov has rigged up some rudimentary controls in the bridge for testing, but…well…it’s going to be a while until we can control the ship.”
“What about the captain?” I ask.
Travers and Le Garre look at each other again. This time it’s Le Garre who shares their thoughts. “That’s what we need to talk to you about.”
I’m trying to read their expressions and work out what’s going on, but they aren’t giving much away. Then I realise, aside from the captain, we’re the three surviving officers from the Khidr.
“After they murdered Sellis, Captain Shann overpowered one of the Rocher clones that was in the engine room,” Le Garre explains, her voice trembling slightly. “She…she lost it on him…. There’s not much left that’s recognisable.”
“So, you’re asking me to make a judgement on her fitness for command?”
“We need to agree what we’re doing,” Travers says. “There’s no blame to this. Maybe she just needs a break? We’ve all been through the wringer.”
“She won’t see it that way,” I say. “Where’s the body?”
“Sealed in a vac bag and ready to be jettisoned,” Le Garre says.
“You took pictures, though?”