Termination Shock

by Gillian Andrews

  The Avarak nurse paused and then moved to a device set into the bulkhead. She spoke into it with the guttural speech of the Avaraks, then listened carefully to the sharp reply.

  She stared over to me, before replying slowly in a labored Avarak, to make sure I was able to follow her meaning. “Raktor is under attack. That shot disabled our FTL drive. We are going nowhere. There is a Terran fleet around us and the Captain has been asked to surrender.”

  “Will he do that?”

  “Never!” The Avarak word, ‘Navikkx!’ sounded so much more definitive than Universal.

  I hurried to tie the tunic around my waist, wishing I was dressed in my more familiar ship’s fatigues. I felt vulnerable.

  The aide motioned me to stay where I was and then hurried out of the medical bay, closing the door behind her. It didn’t stay closed for long. A small arm appeared around it and Zenzie’s lined and pixie face peered inside.

  “We should go,” she told me. “The Raktor is outgunned badly. I counted six ships approaching. If the Captain is determined to martyr himself and his crew, we need to get off this ship.”

  We were in the middle of a hostile environment. Again. Zero for two. This wasn’t going well. I pulled a face. “We need to extricate ourselves. And that isn’t going to be easy.”

  “I know.”

  Small arms fire came clearly from the other side of the wall. A bullet shattered the bulkhead just in front of me. I swore and ducked, grabbing Zenzie and jerking her hard, so that she fell to the ground. We froze until the fire moved away.

  I swore. “Well, that wasn’t the Terran fleet, for sure. They would hardly be firing pistols from their ship. It sounds to me as if there is a revolution on board Raktor.”

  “It does.”

  Right. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Bull Cunningham would be somewhere in the thick of this. I had made another mistake. Clearly, I wasn’t cut out for leadership. “So, let’s make sure Sammy is all right, then try to find the others. We may have jumped from the frying pan into the fire. If this ship is going to be blown to smithereens like Commorancy was, we might need to think about getting off it.”

  “Do you think Seyfert told the Terrans about us? Does the attacking fleet know we are here? And would it make any difference to their attack if they did?” She looked at me earnestly. “I don’t know much about the Terrans.”

  If I had had a ridge of my own it would have been perpendicular. My knowledge of the Flatlanders didn’t give me any reason to think they would care one way or the other. “I think they will attack anyway; we are simply collateral damage to them.”

  Surprisingly, her own ridge stayed flat. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Ready?”

  She took a deep breath and then nodded. “Ready.”

  We ducked out of my medical bay and the Tyzaran girl pulled me into a room nearly next door. We found Sammy, still in a triage chamber. He was looking worried, though his brow cleared once he saw us. He had been struggling to disentangle himself from the tank. I realized at once that it couldn’t be. His leg was still almost in shreds.

  I closed my eyes momentarily. I didn’t want to say this, but there was no way around it. “You have to stay here.”

  He wriggled a little more. “I can’t! I won’t!”

  A figure we hadn’t even noticed uncurled from her position propping up one of the walls and pointed to Sammy’s leg with one long finger.

  It was the Avarak female aide, the one who had been tending to me. She was so non-descript that she had faded into the background as if she had been camouflaged.

  “Navikkx! Nikkx!” She burst into Avarak speech, making several clicking noises and fast guttural sounds I had no hope of understanding. Seeing our faces, she raised both hands and crossed them in front of her in a diagonal cross. I got the message. It would be fatal to him.

  So had Sammy. “No! No! Rye, take me with you! Please!” The whites of his eyes showed.

  I shook my head. “Can’t be done. Sorry. Take care of yourself. We’ll be back for you.” I stared into the eyes of the female. Her face reminded me of one of those old statues, gradually made featureless by centuries of erosion.

  “What is your name?” I racked my brains. “Axrankk?”

  She shivered. Her answer was slow, but the first word was in universal. “Belong Solutor.”

  It seemed a strange way to introduce yourself. “Do you not have a name? A name you were born with?”

  She inclined her head. “Belong father – Hegaton. Now belong Solutor.” She slapped her chest. “Axrankk – Seyal.” Then she slapped her bony chest again. “Axrankk – ‘Seyal belong Solutor, from Hegaton’”. So she did speak at least some words of universal. I wondered where she had picked them up. She patted her stomach proudly. It presented a small bulge. “Child belong Solutor, Axrankk - Segaton.”

  All this ‘belonging’, which she seemed quite unconcerned about, made me uncomfortable. Words like slavery were popping into my head. We Spacelanders are kind of against stuff like that. But such things shouldn’t, couldn’t concern me. This was not my race. Something I was glad about. “Congratulations on the baby. Well, thank you for your help. We appreciate it.”

  She gave a short bow.

  I mimed firing. “Who is shooting inside Raktor? Err … Devekk?”

  “Avaraks Nikkx.” She changed to her carefully slow Universal. “No Avaraks. Terrans.”

  My heart sank. The nasty feeling Bull Cunningham would be looking down the crosshairs of a gun just got stronger and more accusing. I knew this was going to turn out to be due to my own bad judgement.

  The whole conversation had taken mere seconds. Then we were out of the medical bay area. I was following Zenzie down a long corridor which was bordered by high bulkheads on either side.

  She led me nimbly along the length of the ship, away from the direction of the small arms fire. I felt numb. It was hard to leave Sammy behind and in danger. We’d known each other almost all our lives.

  She sped the length of the ship, leaving me breathless in her wake. My arm was good, considering, but the whole recuperation process had taken it out of me. I struggled to keep up. She checked back on me to monitor my progress, her eyes worried.

  “I can keep up. You concentrate on where we are going.”

  “I am taking you to the bridge.”

  I stumbled and nearly fell. “The bridge? I thought we would be making for one of the shuttles?” I may have glared at her.

  Her ridge flared, but she stuck to her guns. “No. If they don’t know about the Terran children on board they will assume we are the enemy and may well fire on any shuttles that leave. To escape the enemy fleet surrounding this ship we need FTL drive. And we need the bridge to find us something FTL capable.”

  Faultless logic. I just couldn’t see how we were going to talk our way out of this one. I was beginning to see the problems of being led by an eight-year-old alien. She might have lots of wrinkles, but they didn’t denote experience. I opened my mouth to counter her version with something more likely to succeed, but there was a huge explosion to one side of us and a large piece of metal, amongst other debris, punched across the corridor in front of us. This time she needed no prompting to throw herself on the floor. As we did, both Zenzie and I caught a glimpse of Bull Cunningham ducking away, recharging his weapon. I closed my eyes. So he had taken up arms against the Avaraks. And, apparently, us. That didn’t make any sense. Great. Just terrific. I pursed my lips and looked up at the ceiling.

  We were still huddling down on the floor when a group of heavily armed Avaraks surrounded us and threatened to shoot us. More good news.

  Zenzara stood up and placed herself deliberately in front of me. She began to speak to them in their own language. I assumed from the ge
stures that she was demanding we be escorted to the bridge.

  There was some general muttering of unwillingness and a long speech by the heaviest of the Avaraks.

  She stared him right in the eye, her ridge perpendicular from her skull. She looked quite imperious, at contrast with her age. Her words took on a stronger tone, clearly in an attempt to convince.

  The large Avaraks looked slightly bemused. They eyeballed each other in an attempt to agree a response. None of them wanted to shoot a Tyzaran; that much was clear. On the other hand, none of them looked particularly keen to obey her either. I can tell you one thing. They had never had a female speak to them like that before.

  She looked crossly from one of them to the other. I swear she stamped her foot.

  The Avaraks began to look uncomfortable. There was a clear hesitation, which Zenzara utilized to cajole them more. Finally, the largest of the Avaraks gave what seemed to be a small bow, and gestured for us to pass them by in the corridor.

  The Tyzaran girl inclined her head and swept past, as if it were her right. I fell in behind her as quickly as I could. This alien child was hard to typify; one moment she was vulnerable, another as tough as steel. I was beginning to realize just why the Tyzarans were considered one of the most advanced civilizations in our galaxy. Few species are prepared to confront the Avaraks. Avaraks can be tricky. They don’t much care for aliens and they certainly don’t take orders from other species. But the Tyzarans have certain advantages. They are considered by many to be the most technologically advanced species of the Major Shells. If they had not shared their technology with the other races, it is doubtful any of us would have progressed as far as we have.

  We were ushered along more corridors until we came to the bridge. There, the central figure, clearly the captain, was at least half as big again as the rest of the Avaraks. He regarded us with displeasure. He demanded something in Avarak, and then changed to Universal.

  “Who are these aliens?”

  Zenzara’s head went up. “Who are you?”

  He growled. “My name is Solutor.”

  “Oh yes; we met your wife down in the infirmary.”

  He glared down at the slight Tyzaran figure in front of him. Zenzara only came up to his hips. “You are fighting with the enemy. You will be interned.”

  “No such thing. We have come to stop all this unfortunate quibbling.”

  He stared at her, his lower jowl dropping. “Quibbling? There is a large fleet surrounding us.”

  “Exactly my point. You cannot win. You are clearly surpassed in size and fire power. You need to barter. You must offer to exchange the Terran prisoners on Raktor in exchange for your safe passage.”

  He puffed out. “Avaraks are not afraid to die!”

  “I am sure they aren’t, but it would be a worthless sacrifice. Tell the opposing fleet that you have Tyzarans on board. They won’t attack.”

  Solutor’s frown was slow and cumbersome. “There is only one Tyzaran on board.”

  “It will make no difference. I shall talk to them. You will see; they will withdraw rather than attack a ship with Tyzarans.”

  “This cannot be. I will not give up my prisoners. The Terrans started this war; they are responsible for everything.”

  “Surely the differences can be sorted out by mediation?”

  “They have claimed the entire Local Shell as their own territory! It is quite monstrous! Completely unacceptable! You do not understand how we Avaraks think!”

  I stepped in. “That may be true. But however much you undervalue your own death, that of an unborn son …” I stressed the word unborn, “… is a heavy price to pay. And you would not wish to alienate the Tyzarans – or the Spacelanders, surely? Not more than they already are?”

  Several muscles moved in his jaw. His eyes darted around him at his officers, and I wondered how many of them had understood what had been said. Their expressions had not moved one iota.

  Zenzie stepped past me. “Please,” she said urgently. “At least do not give your son’s life away for nothing. It is senseless.”

  More movement in the jowls told me that the conclusion the Avarak was reaching was unpalatable. I saw from the small drop in his shoulders that he had decided to sacrifice himself and his ship.

  The ridge on Zenzie’s skull spiked completely. She looked stricken. I put my right hand on her shoulder.

  There was a long silence. Then, at last, Captain Solutor pressed his lips together.

  “Avaraks never run. However, I will allow your allies and the Terran children to evacuate before we attack. You will be allocated my personal shuttle; it is the only one which is FTL capable. In addition, there is an adequate medical bay which will enable your wounded comrade to be evacuated.” His eyes met mine steadily before going on, “I will allow a skeleton Avarak crew to accompany you, since you are unused to our hardware. You will need a nurse, a doctor, and a navigator. There will not be room for more.” His eyes had darkened. I saw him blink once as if in pain as he regarded the surrounding crew on the bridge. The members of his crew looked away. None of them wanted to be picked. Finally his eyes settled on a young Avarak who was standing some paces away, in the background.

  “Orison, son of Tungor, you will accompany the aliens to the shuttle Rastin and evacuate them.” Then he repeated the order in Avarak.

  The young officer stepped forward, but he was shaking his massive head slowly. He made a long speech to Solutor and then stood waiting for an answer, his head low.

  Solutor thought for a long moment, and then his heavy voice sounded again, in Universal.

  “Your father was my best friend for many years. You are a young officer and I can spare you. Salute him from me. Tell him my debt is now paid in full. Obey your captain!”

  Orison seemed to diminish in front of us. He nodded and turned towards the passageway.

  “This way, if you please.” Then he looked back at Solutor and the rest of his crewmates. He put one large fist across his heart and inclined his head.

  “Avarak Karax!”

  The entire crew copied his gesture and echoed his words. “Avarak Karax! Avarak Karax!”

  Solutor gazed down at us. His decision made, he was anxious for us to leave. His face was wiped now of all emotion. As we were led out by Orison, I saw the Captain turn aside to push a button and talk gruffly into a comlink.

  Zenzie had taken my hand. She was squeezing it tightly. “He is talking to one of the doctors,” she explained, “telling him to get Sammy’s Zeroth unit on board the Rastin, and he is telling him to find Sammy’s aide, who is also to accompany us.” She listened intently. “The doctor is protesting. He says his duty is to attend Avaraks, not aliens. But he has agreed to send the nursing aide and Sammy to the shuttle.” She listened to Solutor’s answer. “Solutor is telling him to do as he is bid.”

  We could hear no more after that as we made our way away from the bridge and back along the convoluted corridors. Solutor must have made further calls, for when we eventually moved into the huge hold which held the Rastin, we found we were not the only ones there.

  Mel, Didjal and Eshaan were standing under guard near the door. They looked relieved as they saw us approach. Sammy’s Zeroth was slowly being pushed along the bay towards the large shuttle, and, much to my surprise, Bull Cunningham was stretched out on the deck, by the entry ramp. He was hog-tied hands and feet, but still clearly conscious and quite furious. Three Avarak guards stood over him. He was protesting his innocence.

  “Why have you tied me up? I’m a Spacelander!” His lie was fluid, his virtuous face convincing. If I hadn’t seen him wielding a gun against the Avaraks with my own eyes I would have been convinced. That made me wonder whether I had been taken in from the start by him, as the Avaraks were now. Why had he been on t
hat Spacelander course? Had he really won the trip as a Terran prize for coming top in his year, as he had told me, or had there been a more sinister reason from the start?

  The pieces began to click together in my mind. That was why he was so good with a rifle. I felt a burning sensation of betrayal sweep through me. He had fooled me as easily as he was fooling the Avaraks. They were going to pay with their lives. Would I? Would the others under my protection? My face flushed with mortification. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Zenzara staring at me with concern.

  Bull hadn’t finished playing to the gallery. “You saw I had no gun! It wasn’t me! That Terran Instructor escaped. He was shooting at me! I am the victim here.”

  I felt like shooting him myself. With real bullets. “Bull! What have you done?”

  “Nothing!”

  “You might convince the Avaraks, but do you really expect me to believe that?”

  He glowered towards me. His eyes shifted towards the Avaraks, as if asking me to vouch for him. They lowered as he realized I would not. “How would you understand? I am not lying. That Terran instructor did escape!” His voice rang with sincerity.

  I rubbed my eyes. This was getting too complicated. I wasn’t even sure who was fighting whom. And I definitely didn’t know where my fellow Spacelanders stood on the issue. The lines were blurring; nothing seemed straightforward any longer. We had fought the Avaraks on Commorancy, for sure, but that had been mere survival. We were about to be blown out of the sky by the Terrans. Did that make the Flatlanders the new enemy? Was Bull Cunningham suddenly my adversary? I had been to numerous bars with him, had considered him a friend. We had spent hours together dissecting life and our fellow recruits. It was hard to regard him as a potential enemy. I found myself blinking, unsure as to my next move.

  He was lucky that these Avarak guards seemed prepared to believe him. I looked in their direction, wondering what their intentions were, but that was soon made obvious. Two of them scooped Cunningham up and stomped up the ramp with him, tossing him into a corner with utter disregard to his well-being. Then a winding line of terrified Sol children was escorted up to the ramp and inside the shuttle.