Termination Shock

by Gillian Andrews

  I wondered what had happened to the instructor, but I didn’t care enough to interrupt the evacuators to ask. I knew he had become responsible for his own fate as soon as he had taken arms against the Avaraks. I was amazed that they had not kept Cunningham as well. Surely we hadn’t been the only ones to see him?

  Finally Solutor’s wife solemnly pushed Sammy’s Zeroth tank up the ramp. She turned her featureless face in my direction as she passed and gave me a brief nod. I nodded back. She had tears streaking her cheeks. She knew what was happening, and why. Belonging or not, she cared for the imminent death of her husband. Or perhaps it was that of all these Avaraks she had traveled with.

  There was no sign of the doctor. I turned to Orison.

  “Is the shuttle full? Can you not take anyone else?”

  He frowned. “This class of shuttle is built to take up to twenty-five Avaraks. We have two Adult Avaraks, the four of you, the Zeroth chamber, the bound Terran and thirty-five Terran children.” He paused for a moment, heavy face crinkling as he calculated. “I suppose we could take a little more weight.”

  Zenzie walked up to him. “Then bring the children. The Avarak children.”

  He stared at her. “They will wish to stay. They will not abandon their parents.”

  I looked quickly over at Zenzara. “There are Avarak children on board?” I glared at Orison. “Then they should certainly be evacuated.”

  “T-That is impossible. I have orders to leave immediately, and their parents would need to give consent. Quite imp—”

  His explanation was cut off by the sight of six small bulky figures being ushered across the vast hanger. Solutor had come to the same conclusion as Zenzie, it seemed. I doubted he had taken the time to get whatever consent was necessary. It was good to see that the Avaraks also had the desire to preserve their issue. It made them more … no, not human, I know. More … familiar.

  We hurried them up the ramp and Orison busied himself at the controls as Seyal tried to settle all of the children in safe places. We were about to leave when a huge Avarak with an angry expression appeared on the ramp, peering up at us.

  “Doctor Vebor,” he announced, jowls high in the air, as an introduction. “I have been ordered to board.” He clearly wasn’t at all keen. Solutor must have been most insistent. The presence of two burly armed Avaraks on either side of him might have had something to do with it.

  I stepped forward. “Welcome aboard.”

  He pushed past me, propelling me into the bulkhead. Not a friendly alien, then.

  “Avarak Karax!” he declaimed, his small eyes showing exactly how much he despised all the other races in the Major Shells.

  Right. Just what we needed. An Avarak who hadn’t wanted to be saved. I gave a sigh. This was going to be a smooth flight. For sure. At least it wouldn’t be long. Shuttles only usually had autonomy for some few tenths of light years. The Rastin wouldn’t get us to any inhabited space. Not without help.

  Even so, the Tyzaran girl might just have saved all of our lives. I gave her a glare. “Kindly remember who is in charge of this mission. It isn’t you!”

  She assumed an expression of saintly innocence. “Me? Of course not!”

  I gave a grunt, surprising myself at how much like an Avarak I sounded.

  She giggled.

  Chapter 3

  Surrounded as the Raktor was, it was going to be nigh impossible to find a safe vector to distance us from the besieged ship. The shuttle needed to get at least ten kilometers away from the bigger ship in order to transition to FTL. We were prolonging our exposure to danger every second that we were still in system.

  As we slowly drew away along our vector, we could see the beginnings of the end for the ship we had just left. The Terrans had decided that they weren’t going to wait any longer. They were already taking advantage of the Avarak ship’s lack of maneuverability; rail gun fire was pouring across open space. Raktor’s point defenses were opening up to take out as many of the small but lethal projectiles as they could whilst still carefully avoiding our own vector. They weren’t going to succeed. My mouth went dry as I watched.

  Orison gave a shout of encouragement as the Raktor managed to fire off several bursts of heavy torpedoes at the fleet surrounding it and he glowed with pride as one of them caused a large Terran cruiser to shudder and then explode soundlessly into the surrounding space.

  A few minutes later, his face fell. Raktor itself was now receiving punishing ultrapulses along a hull already splitting under the blasts which had cut clean through the point defense system. He dragged unwilling air into his huge lungs, holding it as he waited for the inevitable climax. Finally his head dropped as Raktor herself disintegrated in a huge blast. The fire had reached her main core.

  Zenzie’s eyes were wet. So Tyzarans cried, like the Earth-stem races. It was strange that we had that trait in common, Tyzarans being so different to us.

  Avaraks didn’t. At least, Orison didn’t. Our pilot’s face showed no emotion, but his colour gave him away. The dark grey habitual color had faded to a pale white.

  I turned to the other Avarak on the bridge, the doctor. He, too, was ashen as he stared at the screen. His lips were rigidly straight and his eyes were full of hatred.

  Zenzie moved closer to Orison. “I am sorry that your ship has been destroyed,” she told him, peering up at his face anxiously.

  I was beginning to realize how much of a problem-solver she was, but this was one thing she couldn’t make any better. I reached out and grabbed her arm, causing a small jump of surprise. Her ridge crested.

  “We are very sorry for your loss,” I told the Avaraks. “Come, Zenzara, we must check up on Sammy.” I half-pulled her off the bridge. They needed to concentrate right now in any case. We had to go FTL or we would meet the same fate as the Raktor.

  Zenzara stumbled along beside me, a bemused expression on her pixie face. “What did you do that for? I was trying to help.”

  “You can’t.”

  Clearly, she didn’t agree. “I can try. Living beings are special. They are obligated to try to help each other.”

  In principle, she was right. But since we had somehow managed to get ourselves fighting with the Terrans against the Avaraks on Commorancy, and with the Avaraks against the Terrans on Raktor it didn’t seem like we had the moral high ground.

  I tried to explain this to her. She pulled her small mouth into a moue of consideration. “Hmm. I see your point. Perhaps my help would not be appreciated right now.”

  “You should keep out of other people’s problems, kid; realize that you can’t solve the whole universe.”

  She was unconvinced. “I will take your comment under advisement.”

  I looked suspiciously at her. Her face was bland, but she was radiating stubbornness. It seemed to me she would keep on doing exactly what she felt like doing. I had to sigh. Mentoring the young Tyzaran girl wasn’t going to be an easy job for anyone. I was determined it wouldn’t be mine.

  By this time we had made our way to the improvised medical bay. Sammy greeted us with a wave of his hand and a grin which turned into a grimace of pain. I grabbed his hand and we did a Spacelander handshake.

  “Hey man! Are we safe yet?” He was a lot happier than he had been last time we had left him.

  I nodded. “We are on our way. But …” I looked quickly over at his Avarak nursing aide, “… Raktor has been destroyed.”

  Solutor’s wife—widow—Seyal—was already very pale. This was not news to her. She turned away, busying herself with the preparation of some medicine or other. Zenzara took half a step towards Seyal and then looked sideways at me. I shook my head slightly. The Tyzaran girl hesitated, before deciding to move up to Sammy’s Zeroth chamber.

  “How are you feeling?”

&n
bsp; Sammy smiled. “I’m good. Seyal thinks I can come out of the tank in another week or so.”

  Good news. Except I had no idea where we would be in another week. Or who we would be fighting. This whole thing made little sense to me. What had made the Avaraks attack Commorancy? Even if they were responding to the Terran expansionist ideas, it seemed out of character that they should attack a training ship. And why would the Terrans attack a relatively insignificant ship like Raktor? The top brass on Seyfert might know. But Seyfert was not communicating with us, which meant that we were on our own. My aim was to keep us out of any further trouble. That brought my train of thought to Bull Cunningham. He might know a bit more about what was happening.

  I made my way to Bull, Zenzara and Didjal at my heels. He was in the same corner he had been left in, still tied hand and foot. I hesitated, then undid the ropes. He sat up, rubbing his ankles with both hands. He wasn’t happy.

  “You could have come sooner! I have been lying here for hours!” He stared darkly at Didjal. “And why did you bring him with you?”

  Didjal straightened up. “We Enif are proud to be hermaphroditic,” it said with gravitas. “Please do not degrade us by using sexually biased pronouns. It is insulting.” He walked slowly away.

  Bull stared after it. “What did I do?”

  “Surely you know Enif require neutral pronouns?”

  “No! Why would they?”

  I stared. “Because they think bisexual races are less efficient?”

  He gave a snort. “Sure. Less efficient.”

  “Bisexual reproduction does use up more energy,” I pointed out.

  His eyes glittered as he watched the Enif leave. I got a sudden impression of intense dislike.

  Bull must have caught the involuntary tightening of my shoulders, because he gave a rueful shrug. “They probably are more efficient,” he said with a disarming smile. “How long have I been here?”

  “Around two hours. You deserved it. Why the Shells did you attack the Avaraks?”

  He looked away. “Oh. That.”

  “Yes, that. What were you thinking?”

  “I’m Terran. David Simmonds – the instructor – said that the Avaraks attacked Earth first. And we were fighting them on Commorancy.” He gave a shrug, his eyes sliding evasively away from mine. “It just seemed like the correct thing to do – protect the Terran children. He said we had to.”

  Why did I not believe him? He sounded truthful.

  “On Commorancy we were just trying to survive. And you heard me broker a truce with the Avaraks.”

  “We-ell. I guess. But Simmonds said they were going to torture him.”

  “And you believed him?”

  Bull’s eyes opened wide. “Why shouldn’t I? He’s Terran, like me.” Then he amended that statement. “He was Terran.”

  “Did he tell you anything about why the fighting was happening specifically around Raktor? And around Commorancy?”

  Bull shook his head. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

  “I should tie you back up again. You can’t be trusted.”

  Bull gazed up at me, eyes pleading. “I mean, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to fight the Avaraks. Come on, Mallivan! It’s what we were doing on Commorancy, after all! You aren’t going to hold a little thing like that against me, are you? The Avaraks let me go. You’ll do the same, right?”

  I didn’t have to look at Zenzie to know her crest was signaling danger. I could feel it coursing through me. I already knew. I should tie him up.

  I couldn’t. I sighed, still looking down at him. “I think it’s time we parted ways.”

  Bull’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “You’re kidding me, right? You only have two weeks seniority on me!” His façade of affability slipped again for a moment, making him seem suddenly menacing.

  “I know. And who knows what will happen next? You can stay with the Terran children, protect them. Haven’t you just said that was your aim? You just won’t be coming with Zenzie and me.”

  “Zenzie and me or Zenzie and I?” The Tyzaran girl’s face was tilted to one side inquiringly. She really wanted to know. Her English was stilted, but good enough for her to detect areas of flexible grammar.

  “Whichever.”

  “Really? Because I thought that—”

  Bull was pulling himself to his feet. He towered over Zenzie, who shrank back.

  “Tell your pet Tyzaran to shut up,” he snarled. “You don’t seem so keen to dump her. Maybe you figure she’ll be a good addition to your bed.”

  There was a rustle to one side of me, and then Bull was back on the metal floor plating again with a very angry Tyzaran pinning him to the deck. Zenzie was glaring down at him, her ridge completely vertical and her small claws splayed out at the tips of her fingers.

  She hissed at him like a cat, her lips drawing back to show sharp white teeth. “Don’t even s-s-suggest anything of the s-s-sort! Tyzarans hardly ever mate with outside species. And we never even mate at all until we are in our late twenties. I’m only eight. Euwww!!”

  I had to grin. Bull was shrinking back, intimidated by her. “She makes a good addition to the team,” I told him. “You don’t.”

  His face was ugly. “I just made one little mistake.”

  My stomach felt like I’d just swallowed a cold brick. How could I ever have thought this man was a friend? “I’m sorry.”

  His lips tensed. “You should be.”

  He hobbled out of the bay and disappeared along the corridor, leaving a sensation of discomfort behind him.

  Zenzara watched him go. “Will he fight the Avaraks again?”

  “I don’t know.” I wasn’t too pleased with myself. I hadn’t handled the conversation very well and I was almost sure I was doing the wrong thing in letting him walk away. I sighed again. They were becoming regular, these sighs. At this rate I was going to be grey before I was thirty.

  “Maybe you should take some exercise.”

  “What?”

  “You appear to be huffing and puffing too much. You must be out of shape. I am suggesting that exercise will help you.”

  I pushed past her and made my way back to the bridge, deliberately leaving her behind. She was a spunky little thing. I even quite liked her, but I wasn’t planning on spending the rest of my life with her any time soon. What a mess.

  It took us four days to reach the nearest faintly suitable landfall and it certainly wasn’t anything I would have called habitable. It was little more than a large round rock and had no atmosphere.

  We set down and disembarked from our overcrowded conditions. We were all the worse for wear, and I don’t think any of us would have got back into the shuttle for another four days in space, even if there had been fuel for that long. We waited with as much patience as we could muster as an inflatable emergency dome was set up over the shuttle, and then each group claimed its own patch of land.

  The Avaraks took the southern side of the ship, with the Avarak children. The Terran children, together with an unapologetic Bull Cunningham, the northern. We set up camp by the shuttle. The three groups never mixed. They simply glowered at each other from a distance. I was glad Bull had no access to any arms. He looked as if he would have liked to use them. I was pretty sure now that his camaraderie on the course had been a cover. That he had been a part of this from the start.

  The two Enif, together with Zenzie, Mel and myself, huddled close to the shuttle, near the Zeroth chamber Sammy was still having to lie in. Surprisingly, Seyal had stayed with us. Perhaps she considered her duties to Sammy had priority over her Avarak race. Perhaps she simply didn’t want to go back. She was an individual of few words. She didn’t explain her actions to us. But she stayed. The unwilling Dr. Vebor occasionally forc
ed himself to cross the 50 yards separating us and give Sammy a desultory examination. A little more interest wouldn’t have killed him.

  We were hungry, thirsty and tired. The emergency provisions on Rastin were running out and we were severely rationed. There were few complaints from any of my group, though. Avarak food and drink made us gag; it was quite difficult to force it down even though we were desperate.

  The two Enif lay side by side, chatting silently to each other through tactile communication wherever their skin touched. It was strange to watch. Their skin seemed to shiver and crenellate in waves.

  Didjal was the practical one, Eshaan the artist. Enif always form life partners with complete opposites. They spent hours chatting to each other. I asked them what they found to talk about at such length.

  Didjal gave the Enif equivalent of a laugh. “Eshaan is our artist. I am taking this time to discover all I can about our legacy to the Enif people.”

  I must have tilted my head on one side; he realized I was confused and hurried to explain.

  “We believe that our souls will join upon our death. Everything we have achieved will become known as our joint work. Even our names will be conjoined – we will be known as Dishaan once we have passed into the sky. As I am the practical one, little that is lasting will live on after my death. Perhaps one engine running more smoothly than another. Perhaps I may have made a small insignificant addition to our total scientific knowledge as a people. But my faliif … my faliif is a true artist. Eshaan’s work will be appreciated for many centuries after we are both dead. Since it is to be mine too, I am merely catching up on all that we will be leaving after us.”