Star Splinter

by J G Cressey

  Turning on his heel, he walked over to a collection of smashed up storage pods, and with a supporting hand on his aching back, he stooped down to pick up some of the drink canisters strewn on the floor. “Now we do something that my old combat instructor taught me,” he said, throwing each of them a canister. All of them deftly snatched the canisters out of the air bar Viktor, who was happy for Melinda to do the catching for him.

  “We’re all a little wired to say the least,” Cal continued. “It’s time to take a quick time out. Time to sit, drink, and think.”

  None of them argued. Instead, they all sank to the floor, cracked open the canisters, and began to guzzle on the cool liquid they contained. As Cal knew it would, the break gave them all a chance to calm their buzzing minds, quiet their ringing ears, and rehydrate their aching bodies. Cal took a moment to look at each of them in turn. Eddy and Toker were slouched on the floor opposite him. The safety of the headquarters seemed to have already restored some of Toker’s relaxed manner. In contrast, Eddy looked like a coiled spring, and Cal suspected that it was taking a great deal of effort for the girl to stay put. Not for the first time, he wondered what invisible force was supplying her with such seemingly inexhaustible energy. To his left, Viktor was leaning against Melinda. Understandably, the boy looked exhausted from the ordeals he’d just endured, but he was doing a good job at putting a brave face on it. Despite their oddness, Cal was finding himself warming to them all.

  Finally he looked at Jumper. His old friend was frowning and staring at one of the shattered consoles. Cal didn’t blame him; he felt like frowning at that particular puzzle himself. He was sure he’d seen every type of weapon blast known to man. This damage, however, was like nothing he’d ever witnessed. What the hell could have caused it? He rubbed his head. No answers, just more questions. Deciding to finally break the silence, he said, “Viktor, do you think you could get any of these consoles up and running?”

  With Melinda’s help, the boy climbed to his feet as if he’d simply been waiting for his cue. “Course, Cal… At least, I’ll give it a go.” Pulling a few of his gizmos from his case, the boy shuffled over to a nearby console. “This station here looks not too bad. All the holo-ports and screens look totally bust up, but I’ve got a little portable screen I can rig up.”

  “Good lad.” Cal climbed to his feet and turned to the rest of them, who were following suit. “I’m going to take a trip down to the hangar and check out the transport situation. I’d like to know that we can get off this planet under our own steam if need be. Unless, of course, you all fancy becoming permanent Mars residents?”

  “Hey man, don’t even joke,” Toker blurted.

  “Thought as much,” Cal said with a quick grin. “Want to join me, Jumper?”

  Jumper slung his bliss rifle over his back. “Absolutely.”

  “Can I come too, Cal?” Eddy asked.

  Cal nodded, and the girl wasted no time heading for the elevator. Toker took a moment to look about the room then shook his head and followed her with a sigh.

  “We’ll be back shortly, Viktor.” The boy already had his head immersed inside the shattered console and simply waved a distracted hand in reply.

  “So where are the ships?” Eddy asked as the lift began its speedy descent. “I didn’t see none outside.”

  “They’re in the hangar underneath the base,” Jumper explained. “Sections of the desert open up to allow for launch.”

  “Yeah?”

  The lift came to a stop, and the doors smoothly slid open. Cal led the way into a dimly lit room that had a large, glass panel on the far wall. Eddy immediately ran ahead of them and pressed her forehead against the panel.

  Toker joined her and peered disappointed though the glass. “Well, that truly sucks.”

  Cal was inclined to agree. The large hangar contained two spacecraft, both of which would have been impressive if it weren’t for the gaping holes riddling their hulls.

  Eddy stepped back and shook her head. “Think we can fix ‘um, Cal?”

  “Maybe, if we had the equipment and materials, which we don’t.”

  “So we’re stuck here,” Toker said somberly. “We’re gonna have to bloody well wait for someone to come pick us up.”

  Cal didn’t answer; if help were coming, it would have arrived days ago. Silently, he continued to run over their options in his head, a distinct gnawing feeling that he was missing something. Then it hit him. He turned to Jumper and saw on his old friend’s face that the idea had dawned on him too.

  “Big Blue,” they said aloud in unison.

  “Big what now?” Toker asked.

  With renewed vigor, Cal strode over to a large, steel trap door, which was barely visible in the corner of the room. With Jumper’s help, he heaved it open to reveal a metal ladder that stretched vertically down a dark, narrow shaft.

  Toker whistled. “That’ll be one dark hole.”

  Two hundred rungs later, Cal planted his feet on flat concrete. Rubbing his throbbing back, he resolved that he’d take the freight lift back up. He looked about a featureless room that contained nothing more than a single bolted door. The sleek, shiny appearance of the headquarters above had gone, and instead, the walls were damp and stained. Approaching the door, he slid the bolts aside and swung it open. “We’re in.”

  “In where?” Eddy asked, as she stepped off the last rung of the ladder and barged past Toker for a better look.

  “The bone yard,” Jumper answered as he hopped nimbly off the ladder.

  Eddy screwed up her face and followed Cal through the door, Toker close behind. Cal grinned as the pair of them gasped. Row upon row of ridiculously powerful lights illuminated an enormous space. The small platform on which they stood was a few hundred feet from the floor and the same distance again from the huge beams that supported the vast ceiling.

  “Man, would you look at the size of this place?” Toker breathed.

  “I don’t think I can even see the other side,” Eddy added, squinting as she leaned recklessly over the platform railings.

  The space was filled as far as the eye could see with piles of twisted scrap metal as well as numerous crafts that appeared little more than scrap themselves.

  “Excellent.” Toker clapped his hands and rubbed them briskly. “So one of these hunk o’ junk ships is gonna get us the hell outa here, right?”

  “With any luck,” Cal replied.

  “What about one of those?” Eddy suggested. “The one’s with the big ass guns on the side.”

  “Those are Bullseye walkers, Eddy. Even if we managed to get inside one, we wouldn’t get very far off the ground. Big Blue is the only ship here that has a chance of getting us out of orbit.”

  Toker and Eddy followed the line of Cal’s pointing finger to a hunk of metal far in the distance, which, as its name suggested, was big and indeed blue. In fact, it was immense.

  “That huge lump of scrap’s gonna get us back to Earth?” Toker asked, sounding unconvinced. “You certain we’ll all fit?”

  “I guess if we’re lacking room, you could always bunk in with the cattle,” Cal retorted. “Big Blue’s actually a fine ship. One of the best cargo ships ever built.”

  Jumper nodded in agreement. “I always thought it was a crime leaving it down here to rot. I think perhaps it’s time we pulled her out of retirement.”

  Cal turned and saw a familiar twinkle returning to his old friend’s dark eyes. He suspected that Jumper was rather looking forward to getting off this planet.

  Arriving back at the control center, they found Viktor with his head and arms immersed deep inside a console that was stripped of its casing.

  “Viktor…everything okay?” Cal asked. “How you getting on?”

  “Good timing. Think I’ve got it,” the boy replied without so much as glance in their direction. “Just finished rigging up my screen.” He pulled up a seat and positioned himself in front of a portable key pad. His fingers were a blur as they skimmed over the keys, his nos
e practically touching the little holographic screen as he worked.

  “Got it, we’re in.”

  “Good lad.’

  “I’ll see if I can get us a communication link with Earth’s prime hub. Shouldn’t be a problem, just got to…” The boy’s voice faded, but his fingers didn’t slow for a second. “Uh…that’s odd.”

  “Bugger,” Toker mumbled.

  “Something wrong?” Cal asked.

  Viktor didn’t answer. His fingers just moved faster still. “That’s not right… That can’t be right,” he said, sounding increasingly distressed. “A mistake…there must be a mistake.”

  “What, Viktor? What’s a mistake?”

  The boy’s fingers finally stopped moving, and his nose slowly retracted from the screen. As he turned to face them, Cal saw that his eyes were spilling tears.

  “Viktor?”

  “It’s gone… Earth, it’s not there… The system says it’s been destroyed.”

  Part Two:

  Chapter Twelve

  BOREDOM, BOAR BACON, AND BLISS

  Cal woke with a start, and immediately, the left side of his face began to throb. Lifting his head, he attempted to rub the pain away and discovered a surprisingly detailed map of the flight console imprinted on his cheek. He took a brief moment to gaze out of the cockpit’s huge window only to see the same view he’d witnessed for the past three months: the cold, blackness of space splattered with an array of frustratingly distant stars.

  Despite weeks of trying, Cal and the rest of the gang had been unsuccessful in locating any other humans on Mars. Viktor had rigged up a makeshift communications console from which they’d sent a looped message to the Big Game Hunters as well as to the other food sectors. No replies came, and it had soon become apparent that Jumper had been extremely lucky being stationed in relatively close proximity to the headquarters. Without the pickup ships operational, the other hunters must have perished in the rising heat. Viktor had eventually managed to stabilize the planet’s atmosphere but only after the planet had reached oven-like temperatures. Only the toughest of the planets’ inhabitants would have survived such heat. Unfortunately, humans weren’t among them.

  Cal was comforted by Viktor’s assurance that the G28 solar systems powering the atmos-tweekers would, in theory, last thousands of years. Even with the possibility of no human intervention, whatever life remained on Mars would still have the opportunity to thrive for many centuries to come. As for the future of the human race, Cal had no idea.

  It had taken them three weeks to get the immense cargo ship, Big Blue, fit for zero G and then a further two weeks to prep the engines for the big push out of Mars’ atmosphere. During that time, Viktor had attempted to extract further clues from the headquarter computers that might shed some light on the undeniably bleak situation. His attempts had proved futile. Whoever or whatever had destroyed Earth and attacked Mars remained shrouded in mystery. Long-range communications had also failed, the interplanetary airwaves remaining eerily silent. This was a mystery made worse by the fact that Mars’ long-range satellites were all intact. Not even Viktor could offer any theories as to the cause. It was a situation frightening and frustrating in equal measures. Without long-range communications, Cal suspected that the tens of thousands of colonies within fringe space could fall into chaos very quickly.

  There had been few words shared between the gang during those five weeks other than those necessary for the structural overhaul of Big Blue. The shock of Earth’s destruction had understandably hit them all hard. Cal had no living relatives that he knew of and, with all of his close friends being stationed on roaming starships or residing on distant colonies, he had spent very little time on the home planet. Still, he mourned the billions of strangers who had lost their lives in the ominous disaster. An aching emptiness had formed deep in his gut as if a vital organ had been removed, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. None of the others had spoken to him about loved ones lost. Like him, it seemed they preferred to mourn in silence. Occasionally, he would hear crying behind closed doors, which was something he felt like doing himself from time to time, but the tears would never come. Perhaps his experiences as a child followed by those in the military had hardened him to such losses. Or maybe he just couldn’t bear to give in to the grief.

  But time had proved an ever reliable healer, and as the weeks passed, the crying eased, and eventually, laughter began—though slow and quiet at first, as if it were inappropriate and should never be appropriate again after such sadness. But then time dispersed the guilt too, and the laughter came easier. That had helped Cal more than anything, the sight of his friends, old and new, allowing the joy back in. He felt the hole in his gut begin to fill and, by the time they’d successfully launched Big Blue, a renewed sense of hope and vigor had become apparent in them all.

  Big Blue had proved to be a sturdy, reliable ship. Having successfully burst out of Mars’ atmosphere, enough power still remained in the cargo ship’s energy cells to allow for a good ten years of roaming in zero G. As far as Cal was concerned, the ship’s only problem resided in its dated engines. Sluggish didn’t even come close. A distance that had already taken them months could have been crossed in mere days in a modern ship, even a cheap one. During those months, they had crossed paths with no less than twelve human colonies. Arriving at the first two, they had all agreed to use Big Blue’s dropship to see with their own eyes what the scans and lack of communication from the planet surfaces suggested: The colonies were deserted.

  Turning away from the cockpit’s huge window, Cal took some time to stretch, a routine that he performed at least three times daily. It had done wonders for his back injury, so much so that he almost felt like his old self again. Once he felt sufficiently supple, he began his usual morning jog, timing it just as the ship’s sun-cycle lights began simulating dawn. If it weren’t for the noise of his feet clanging against metal grating, he could have closed his eyes and almost fooled his brain into believing he was running in a sunlit park.

  The daily run was not only for fitness, but also to cut away a small slice of the incredible boredom that was an inevitable part of long haul space travel. Such boredom would have been less of an issue had Big Blue still been in its original state. But as it was, anything of value had been removed long ago, including the entertainment systems. There was literally nothing to watch but the stars and nothing to read but star charts. Even the ship’s cryo-lockers had been removed although dreaming away their journey deep in cryo-sleep wasn’t the best idea considering recent events.

  Cal had not been the only one to suffer from boredom over the months. Nearly all of the gang had become increasingly irritable with only Viktor, and presumably Melinda, being the exceptions. Other than at meal times, the pair were rarely seen. Cal had little doubt that this was due to the double cabins’ worth of damaged technical equipment the boy had lugged on board from Mars then twice that amount from the other two colonies. What he was doing with all the mangled equipment, Cal couldn’t even hazard a guess. “Just tinkering,” was the only reply he ever got out of the boy

  Eventually, all of them conceived of new and inventive ways to amuse themselves and fill the long days. Cal had revived his long lost love for rock climbing by fashioning countless hand and foot holds out of smoothed bits of scrap metal and attaching them all over the docking bay walls and walkways to create a mammoth climbing wall. He’d spent hours every day hanging, swinging, and traversing and had been pleased at the rate at which his skill and strength had progressed. On occasion, Jumper would join him, and as always, Cal would be astounded at his older friend’s unparalleled agility.

  As well as showing off his skills on the climbing wall, Jumper had also proven himself to be quite the chef. Rummaging every day through their abundance of salvaged food stores, the older man had concocted meal after mouth-watering meal for the whole gang. Thanks to Jumper, mealtimes had fast become the highlight of their days.

  As for Eddy, the girl had created a hob
by born from her admiration of Jumper’s other talent: stealth. In an attempt to hone her skills, the girl had inexhaustibly stalked the ship, launching constant sneak attacks on the other members of the gang. Much to her annoyance, the only success she had was with Toker—no great achievement considering he spent most of his time asleep. In fact, if such a thing were possible, Cal could have sworn his young blond friend had some sort of implanted cryo-sleep mechanism. He had personally witnessed Eddy pounce on the sleeping man and administer a minute-long headlock while he snored peacefully throughout.

  Cal had been unsuccessful dissuading Eddy from choosing Melinda as an intended victim. Subsequently, he’d needed Jumper’s help to pry the girl from the crumpled clothes locker in which the synthetic had cocooned her. It had taken the two of them a good hour. Undeterred by being gift wrapped in steel, Eddy had gone on to choose an even more dangerous target: Viktor. Melinda had dealt with that attempt without the boy even being aware it had occurred. The synthetic woman had wrapped the girl in the docking bay loading chains, leaving her suspended forty feet in the air—a restraint that had taken Cal and Jumper a full two and a half hours to remedy.

  They had passed two more colony planets during this time but had still received no replies to their signal. Quick to remind them that they’d still barely brushed the surface of the massive number of human colonies, Cal also pointed out that with the destruction of Earth, the natural human response would be to flee as far from that destruction as possible. The further afield they travelled, the greater the chance they had of finding occupied colonies. He just hoped to God he was right.