43 Days to Oblivion

by J. D. Oppenheim

  The warrior grabbed Katy in his metal claws and held her up so high her feet dangled off the ground. Her head bumped the ceiling and she wondered if this is how it would end. She could see Merthon from the corner of her eye on his knees. “Where is Vargas?” the BG warrior screamed in his terrible high-pitched electric voice.

  She spit on his shiny round head. It dripped down into the red eye slit and the worm inside began to shriek. He grabbed her by the neck and pushed her up until her head broke through the lightweight ceiling tiles and for a split second she could see the dark crawlspace above the room. This is it, she thought. Now he’s going to kill me. I don’t want them to pull out my teeth. Just kill me, or give me a gun and let me fight. But not like this.

  He pulled her back down and she struggled to get her feet under her, but then he snatched her up again and she heard a little pop and wondered if her neck was broken. She realized no air was moving through. She wanted a breath of air but the fight was leaving her and her body began to feel heavy and dull.

  “Where is Vargas!” the big machine screamed at her again, but his voice barely penetrated the dense fog surrounding her, dulling the sound, dulling the pain. She could see the shiny black head shaking as it yelled, and it was almost as if she wasn’t there anymore. She tried to spit at it again but couldn’t. Her head felt thick and heavy and a darkness on the edge of her vision began to creep in. And then she couldn’t feel anything at all, her legs were there but it was like she was floating.

  A tiny part of her knew the big, black mech had her in its alacyte fingers and was squeezing the life out of her, but she was leaving, the darkness had swallowed her but she felt strangely warm and safe. She could feel sunlight on her face and grass under her fingers and her father’s voice called to her, “Katerina, Katerina, come home.” And she ran to the sound.

  There was a flash across her vision and another distant voice. She wanted the new voice to go away. She wanted to stay under the soft green grass with the blue sky above and white clouds drifting by. But the other voice got louder and suddenly her face felt cold again and there was a pain growing in her neck and she felt herself falling down, back down, into the pain from before and this wasn’t the place she wanted to be. And then she heard a name: Jolo. They kept repeating it. Yes, Jolo, she thought. I’ve got to go back for Jolo.

  She sucked in a deep breath and screamed, her neck was on fire and her whole body convulsed. And she could hear a desperate voice talking fast. It was the Vellosian, Merthon. He was telling a story. “…Yes, yes!” he cried. “That is the truth of it. He went to see Admiral Filcher. Keep her alive and he will come. He loves her.” And the worm inside started to laugh, a screeching wail. And the sounds got louder and louder and Katy’s knees throbbed where she had fallen, where she’d been dropped. She realized she was under the mech, her head on one of its alacyte feet and she crawled back and Merthon helped pull her through the door into the room from before. The Silana locked them inside and Katy put her head in Merthon’s lap and she felt his gentle hands checking her neck and her back. “I’m sorry,” he kept repeating to her over and over.

  He said Jolo loves me, she thought.

  ……

  Jolo heard them before they made it around the corner. “That sounds like worms comin’.” Soon two giant Bakanhe Grana warriors stood motionless on the other side of the energy wall. Filcher, looking frail and helpless, stood right between them. Two Fed security detail grunts moved off to the left, behind the BG. The older marine with the scratched up armor trailed them a few meters back and stood behind everyone. The young marines’ rifles were hot. Jolo could see the thin blue line of plasma glowing on the top of the forestock. They were tense, unlike the older one who was standing at attention with a bored, sour look on his face. We can’t win this one, thought Jolo. He hoped Greeley wasn’t going to try anything. The odds were too high. Three Fed guns vs. Jolo and Greeley on the move, down the hallway, and there was some hope. But the two big mechs threw everything off. They could kill all of the humans in a second.

  Filcher’s hair was messy like he’d just woken up, his eyes bloodshot, one button on his jacket undone. His breath came in ragged gasps like he’d run all the way there and he swayed just a little like there was some imaginary wind moving him. He went for the flask in his jacket pocket and took a pull. “You three will follow these, uh, these gentle-, uh, black mech bastards to their ship. They have graciously arranged passage back to Duval. I’m sure it will be a safe trip.” Filch started to fall in towards the energy wall and one of the mechs used his staff to pull him back.

  The older marine spoke into his comm. “Cell block 472 section D, release door.” That’s the only one with his wits about him, thought Jolo.

  Suddenly the lights on the side of the wall went green and Jolo could see Filcher and the BG clearly. Filch leaned in towards him and the young marines tensed but held their ground. “Stand down, you fools!” Filcher screamed at them and they shuffled back a step. Meanwhile the big black mechs stood motionless like giant metal pillars. The only thing moving were their red ocular receptors behind the slit on their round, black heads.

  “I know these men and would like to say a formal goodbye, if you don’t mind,” Filch said to the warriors. He tried to push one of them back but he might as well have just tried to shove the side of a building. “Fine, I’ll just step inside.” And Filch stepped into the cell block and gave Jolo a sloppy, drunk, hug. “Here, take a drink,” and he handed Jolo the flask, but Jolo refused. So he gave it to Barth, who took a pull, and then Greeley. The big man paused and stared hard at Jolo. Then slowly the flask went back to Filch. “Come on, buddy. For old times’ sake.” And Filch put his back to the BG and he gave Jolo a look. His expression changed for a flash and he handed Jolo the small bottle and Jolo took it and had a swallow. The flask was metal, but Jolo’s thumb sunk into a soft section on the back.

  Jolo knew immediately he was holding a small breach charge designed to put a hole in a door lock mechanism. They were Fed military issue and even though Jolo and Greeley would normally blow doors open with their guns, Jolo remembered them from long ago. Computer, he thought, how many seconds after contact with metal will a Federation breach charge explode?

  0 to 34 seconds.

  Well, let’s hope it ain’t 34 or we’re all dead, thought Jolo.

  By then the BG warriors were gesturing for them to file out. Jolo needed a small diversion to get close enough and right on cue Filch fell into the black mech on his left, by then Greeley was half way out so Jolo slammed the small charge hidden by the flask on the chestplate of the mech on his right. He yelled and dove back, Greeley bowled into the Fed greenies and a split second later the charge went off and the big BG fell to the floor in a hunk of metal. The other one was tangled up in Filch, but deftly recovered, moving the Admiral out of the way without injuring him and then coming down with his fully lit staff in one smooth movement. He missed Jolo by a centimeter but cut one of the young marines. The energy blade tore through the man’s armor and nearly cut him in half. He landed in a pile next to the downed mech, his eyes open, mouth twitching but no words, a dark red spreading outwards in a circle around them on the white floor.

  Greeley snatched the rifle from the other young marine and unloaded on the standing mech, who turned and stepped towards him, its staff glowing red on both ends. The worm inside was screaming murder. Greeley realized too late that his weapon was set to stun and wasn’t making much headway even though he was focused on the chestplate. Jolo tried to reach for the other rifle but the strap was still wrapped around what remained of the marine, and then the mech stepped forward, slipping in the blood, the blade arcing down for Greeley’s head.

  The old marine unloaded on the BG and pushed it back, out of range of its long staff, both ends angry red blades. Greeley recovered, scrambling backwards, reset his weapon and they both fired on the mech until the chestplate was cherry red. The big warrior lurched forward, straight into the stream of both
Fed rifle blasts, the worm inside crying out in a high-pitched wail, and made one last attack, the glowing blade swiping down again from on high. The mech started to fall towards the cell and Barth jumped back onto Jolo, the blade swooshed overhead and came down carving a black gash into the wall of the cell and the warrior fell screaming into the center of the tiny room. Smoke rose up from its chestplate, a melted mess of alacyte and burning worm.

  Jolo pulled Barth back against the wall, but the BG did not move, the screeching had finally stopped. It was dead quiet suddenly, the only sound was heavy breathing and the sizzle and pop of the worm frying inside its own armor.

  Finally Jolo stood up and grinned, “Smells like a barbecue.” Greeley, still clutching onto the Fed energy weapon, stepped over the fallen Fed marine and the tangled alacyte mess of BG warrior.

  The young marine without his rifle jumped up and demanded Greeley hand over the weapon. “Unauthorized use of a Federation firearm is against the law and punishable—” he said, but then Jolo had him by the neck and walked him back against the wall.

  “Be quiet,” Jolo said. He loosened his grip and the marine started up again so Jolo threw him in the cell. Greeley held him inside at gunpoint. “Shoot him if he says another word,” said Jolo.

  The old marine was kneeling over Filcher, checking for a pulse. The admiral was splayed out on the floor, the pool of blood from the dead marine had engulfed Filcher’s legs in a glossy, dark slick. “Is he okay?” said Jolo.

  “He’s alive. He knew the blast was coming but he didn’t get out of the way. He told us to stand back.”

  “Maybe he wanted to go,” said Jolo.

  “I’m gonna call in a med team.”

  Jolo took the downed marine’s knife and cut away the thick black strap, then slid the knife under his belt and took the energy rifle. “Greeley, Barth, let’s go,” he said.

  “Your ship is in the impound. I can take you there,” said the old marine.

  “How we gonna get around security?”

  “I’m captain of the guard. I’ll call them off.”

  “Why are you helping?” said Jolo.

  The old marine looked down at Filcher. “Because he told me what’s really happening.”

  Decisions

  Aboard the Argossy

  1 day left

  The old marine named Kess put neck rings on Jolo, Greeley and Barth. “This is just for show,” he said. “They aren’t active but most won’t be able to tell.” Then he marched them straight to docking bay 7 four levels down with his rifle aimed at their backs, cursing them when other Feds showed up in the passageways of the big ship. Jolo glanced over at Greeley and the big man had a smile on his face.

  “Head down and try not to look so happy,” said Jolo.

  “Cain’t help it, Cap’n,” said Greeley. He aimed his head down and tried to erase the smile but ended up with a strange grimace.

  In this way they made it down to the docking bay. There was a small sec detail on the deck and Kess ordered them up to the cells where they’d just come from. All four marines hustled out and the only people left were ground crew who didn’t seem to care about the gray haired marine and the three prisoners.

  The docking bay was huge. They walked past two smaller transports and there, right next to a gunship was the Argossy. It stood out amongst the Fed ships with its old-style rounded nose and odd dorsal fin. The Fed ships were angular and had an aggressive look, but Jolo knew in a pinch he’d take the old Argossy any day over one of the Fed boats.

  The docking bay door was a giant energy field much like the cell door they’d just left. Jolo could see out into the blackness of space, but he could also see the energy field shimmering and the blue generators on either side glowing.

  “How we gonna get through the door?” Jolo said to Kess.

  Kess turned to a one of the ramp hogs, a skinny man with a dirty coverall and a red hat. He carried a big spanner used to lock the power cables that recharged the boats.

  “Private,” Kess yelled to the man and pointed at the Argossy. “This thing juiced up?”

  “Yes, sir. She’s full up, but locked down,” he said, heading for one of the smaller Martin GX transports. Lately, the Fed had begun to rely on outsourced boats like the little Martins since the Fed had slowed ship production.

  “How about unlocking it?” said Kess. The man stopped and eyed Jolo and company.

  “I’m not supposed to… uh… I’ll need authorization.”

  “Well, we’ll need to bypass authorization. You’ll have to do it manually.” He aimed the rifle at the man’s head, then reconsidered and pointed it at his knees. “Call ops and you’re gonna need some new legs.” Then he turned to Jolo. “Y’all take off the collars.” Jolo rubbed his neck.

  Soon he was onboard the Argossy waiting for the all clear. The crewman had to manually override the energy field at the main junction box near the generators. Kess was standing nearby making sure he didn’t try to run. Koba came on to the bridge holding a rifle. “Captain!” he said. “Good to see you.”

  “You too. We ain’t out of the woods yet. Hurley okay?”

  “He’s fine. Are they gonna help us out?”

  By then, Greeley and Barth had come aboard. “Naw, they ain’t, the worm lovin’ fools,” said Greeley. Koba shoulders dropped and turned back to his console.

  “We ain’t out of the woods yet,” said Jolo. “Barth, you and Hurley get her ready to go. Koba, make the calculations. Plot a straight path to Duval. We’ll need to jump out as quick as we can. They’ll spot us pretty soon, I imagine.”

  A few minutes later Kess met Jolo at the rear hatch. “Go now. You got a short window.”

  “Thank you,” said Jolo. He shook the marine’s hand. “You can come with us.”

  Kess paused for a moment and stared down at his boots. “Naw. I got some more work here to do I imagine. Y’all watch out for the gunboats. They’ll know you’re no merchant vessel.”

  “Will do. Thanks again.”

  Soon the Argossy eased through the bay door into space. The sector was still littered with Fed ships, all in formation, awaiting coordinates for some training exercise, a lie Filcher had cooked up to get his fleet as far away as possible.

  The Argossy, Jolo thought, was going to head right into the fire.

  “Koba,” said Jolo, “take us away from the gunboats, down behind the container ships. As soon as we have enough distance, jump us the hell out.”

  “Roger that, Captain,” said Koba. Jolo had to force Koba to go slow and easy. Merchant ships don’t run. So they took their time, Jolo eyeing the gunboats patrolling the area. They didn’t move at first, but half way to the jump point, the first of several gunboats altered course and headed straight for the Argossy.

  “We’re gonna have company,” said Jolo. “It took them a minute to figure out we didn’t authorization. Koba, increase speed.”

  Koba picked up speed and headed for a point beyond the large cargo ships just far enough away to jump out. They hit their mark and waited. It usually took around ten seconds for the engines to wind up even if they’d already made the calculations. Jolo watched the little dots heading his way on the screen. He got on the comm to Trant. “We going to fight the BG, Trant. You yellow worm lovers stay here where its nice and safe.”

  “You’re going nowhere, Synth,” Trant said.

  “How we doing, Koba?” said Jolo, off comm.

  “Few more seconds, but provoking the gunboats probably ain’t the best thing right about now.”

  Trant’s gunboat came on screen just as the Argossy started to jump. Jolo felt the Argossy lurch from a cannon shot but then they started the jump and left the Fed fleet behind.

  Three jumps later and they were above Duval. Jolo brought the sector scan up on the main display. “Where’s the patrol?” Usually there were a sprinkling of pirate boats in orbit, but they were gone.

  There was a long pause as Koba tapped on his screen. “Can’t find ‘em, Captain. But that
ain’t the worst of it.”

  “Two red dots.” Jolo said, pointing at the big screen.

  “BG,” said Koba.

  Jolo took a deep breath. “They haven’t moved at us. Take us down.”

  “Well, that’s good, huh?” said Koba.

  “No. That ain’t,” said Jolo. Then he got on the comm shipwide. “We may have company on the deck, boys. Shields up and guns hot. Greeley, might want to suit up.”

  Soon the Argossy was hurtling down into Duval’s atmosphere, the old ship bucking and rocking. Jolo eyed the screen waiting to get a glimpse of the surface, anxious to know what was waiting for them. Blue sky and white clouds flashed for a few moments, then the familiar orange landscape unfolded before them as the old ship continued down.

  “We over Marco’s?” said Jolo.

  “Right on top,” said Koba.

  Surface details began to emerge as they always did, but this time was different. This time Jolo was afraid for his people, for Marco and the rest. And especially for Katy. Gray square patches that marked Jaxxon and the other settlements came into view, and then the long black line that snaked through the orange hardpack that outlined the ravine.

  Usually there were boats moving in and out of Marco’s, tower busters and supplies being packed up for the evacuation. But as the black line grew wider and became a ravine that led to Marco’s hidden entrance, the only thing Jolo saw was smoke. It billowed up black and foul into the sky. At first Jolo thought it was Marco’s compound burning but then he realized it was the big transport. The fuel cells must have caught fire. The ship would burn until there was nothing left but a pool of gray metal and charred debris. There were smaller clumps of color on the surface, but Jolo couldn’t make them out. Two near the shell of the transport and a bright orange one by the hidden recharge cables where the tower busters used to come for supplies. The Argossy got closer and the bits of color took shape: legs and arms splayed out in unnatural poses. Jolo remembered the kid in the orange jacket who helped recharge the boats coming in. He didn’t even shave yet. Jolo swallowed hard. Where’s Katy?