by A. S. Deller
Rhodes hurried on, his face set in a spasm of rage.
Meanwhile, the twins were still in the AI Center. A glowing streak of molten metal ran a fifth of the way around the hatch as Greg Hu and the others continued cutting their way in. The torch screeched as it slowly moved down along the frame. Jerni furiously moved her fingers in a blur through her tablet’s interface while Ruri paced.
“Gulliver, you are no longer in control of your crew’s lives,” said Ruri, with no trace of emotion. “If you do not stop them from trying to get to us, we might be forced to take decisive measures.”
Gulliver answered, “The safety of the crew is my first priority. If I can prevent them from being harmed I will. What are my parameters?”
Ruri looked to her sister, and Jerni spoke, “You have one minute to get them away from us so we can complete our work, or we’ll open the engineering deck to vacuum.”
“They will all die,” said Gulliver without pause. “I can remove them.”
“Then do it,” Ruri said.
Jecky and Nunez kept moving the torch, ever so slowly, as Hu and Ming looked on. Ming tried to reach the girls again with her comm implant. “Jerni, Ruri,” she thought, “Please talk to us. We don’t want to hurt you. We won’t! But we don’t know why you’re doing this. Please!”
Greg groaned, “Still nothing, huh?”
“Nothing,” said Ming. Greg brought up his tesper, adjusted it to stun. Ming grabbed his arm and hissed at him, “No! You won’t shoot them!”
“They’re not who we thought they were! They’re a damned Trojan horse!”
Ming stared Hu down. “Whatever they’re doing, I don’t think it’s something they want!”
“And how would you know?” Yelled Hu, yanking his tesper away from Carly.
Sorakith stepped in between them and put a hand on their shoulders. “I can feel the girls, and I believe Lt. Ming is correct. Their personalities are submerged now. They are not in control of their actions.”
Over everyone’s comms came a ragged, beaten voice. Carson’s. “Commander...Rhodes is sabotaging the ship! Passageway C12!”
“What the hell?” Said Hu. Sorakith pushed away from him, eyes blazing in dismay, and dashed away, headed for the elevator and C Deck.
“We’ll be through in a few minutes!” Jecky hollered over the cutting sound.
Suddenly, pulsing red emergency lights filled the passageway, followed by a rush of escaping air. Gulliver’s voice sounded, “Emergency. Atmosphere is being evacuated from this zone. Please exit past the nearest hatchways before zone is sealed in ten seconds.”
“What! Gulliver!” Cried Nunez.
“No time. We go, now! Go!” Hu said, nudging Ming ahead of him and yanking on Jecky’s arm.
They dashed down the corridor, the red lights flashing their shadows across the bulkheads in sweeping patterns of black flailing limbs. Nunez’s eyes shot wide open as she heard the hiss of pistons and saw the hatch a few meters ahead of them start to close. Ming was the first one through to the other side, not slowing for a second, but the weight of the torch gear slowed Nunez down, and the two men were barely faster. With a growl, Nunez pushed Hu and Jecky ahead of her. They leapt at the least second and skidded through the hatchway, but Nunez didn’t jump far enough. She rolled up to the edge of the hatch as it was a mere three feet from the deck.
Alisa could feel the oxygen being forced from her lungs and knew she was about to die. With her last breath, she said, “Love you, Mama,” closing her eyes and envisioning the amber swathed green valleys of the Yucatan one final time.
And then Greg Hu pulled her by the grips on her torch fuel pack, and another set of hands—-probably Jecky’s—-grabbed a leg. She slid sideways, through the opening, just as the hatch clapped shut.
The whoosh of escaping atmosphere and the clamoring alarm were quieted, leaving the three starmen lying on the deck breathing heavily.
“Holy Infinitus, that was close,” gasped Jecky.
Carly Ming knelt down beside them and patted Hu and Jecky on their shoulders. “You two saved Nunez. I saw it.”
“I’m going to buy both of you all the drinks you want, just as soon as we get back to somewhere they actually accept Units,” Nunez said.
On the bridge, Lieutenant Abdul Assif looked up from his holographic console with trepidation. “Captain! Long range sensors have picked up an approaching Alliance ship! 250 thousand miles inbound!”
Captain Lancer swiveled around in her chair, stricken, “That’s right on our doorstep.”
Dr. Weller rushed over to Assif and looked at his holos. She said, “There’s a signal echo. They’re responding to a transmission we sent!”
“We haven’t sent anything since Day One,” replied Lancer, referring to the very first day after the Talisman was stranded across space.
“The twins. They must have sent it as part of the Trojan horse programming.”
“Damn,” Lancer said. “Assif, details please.”
“It looks like a Keevaks class Valgon design, scoutship. Level Three armaments and defenses and a compliment of twenty to thirty crew, sir,” Assif answered.
Lancer thought it over in mere seconds. A Level Three Keevaks was a fast vessel, highly maneuverable, almost the equal of a Kenek Vesper. Despite only being a scoutship, its weapons were actually an improvement over what the Talisman was outfitted with, but it lacked when it came to armor and maximum EM shield output. The Talisman had a chance in a one-on-one dogfight with the Keevaks, but a slim one. Those odds rapidly evaporated when she considered how many of their systems were being sabotaged by the twins and Rhodes’ rampage. The Talisman just wasn’t capable of leading the Keevaks on a chase, or facing them in battle. It dawned on Lancer that they really had but one choice.
Just as she swiveled back to extend a command, the bridge hatch whipped open and Grekkon Rax ducked in, still bandaged in a dozen places, but wearing his various belts and weapons gear nonetheless. “Rax!” Lancer exhaled.
“I do not want to be absent when I am needed,” he said, clearly still suffering.
“I don’t want that, either,” Lancer said to him. Then, to everyone, “We’re going to play dead. Dr. Weller, run a shutdown on Gulliver. Assif, pass on my order to Chief Falken and have all power shunted to life support. Secure the shuttles, open the shuttle bay to vacuum. Altzen, drop us out of warp now. Rax, assemble all available combat-rated personnel in Enginneering, locked and loaded. All other personnel to the galley. We’re going to let the Valgon bastards walk in, and then we’re going to walk all over them.”
“Dropping warp bubble now, sir,” Lille Altzen said.
Everyone moved. Assif turned to his console and Chief Falken appeared on one of his holo screens. Dr. Weller jumped over a railing and began scrolling through AI Core interfaces at one of the open posts. Rax backed out of the bridge, motioned for two of the other bridge Petty Officers to follow, and they all hurried out.
“I’m going to need you to double-authorize the AI shutdown, Captain,” Kyra said in a frenzy of hand movements.
“Ping me when you’re ready. I’m going to Engineering. Weller, please stay on the bridge. Lieutenant Altzen has the con.”
“What? I’ve never commanded—-“
“Once the lights are out, all of the action is going to be aft. You have the instincts of a skipper, and Dr. Weller is best qualified to keep us all live until this is over,” Lancer said determinedly. She grasped Altzen’s shoulder, leaned close, and added, “This is your ship, now.” Reina Lancer exited the bridge to trail after Rax.
“Gulliver, I need you to initiate temporary shutdown routine B-9,” Kyra Weller commed to the AI Core over her implant, as her hands moved in a frenzy over the holos at her station selecting and rerouting other ship systems.
“Doctor,” Gulliver said, “I am required to notify you that shutdown routine B-9 is an emergency protocol that includes a risk modifier.”
Weller shot back brusquely, “I read you loud and cl
ear.”
“Taking me offline in less than one minute is not recommended—-“
“Gulliver, do it now! We may not even have a minute before the Valgons drop out of warp.”
“Yes, Doctor. Initiating B-9 now,” came the AI’s sullen reply.
You’d think with his processing power he’d know we didn’t have a choice, Kyra thought, before pinging the Captain that the shutdown had begun.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
All across the Talisman, nonessential systems deactivated as crew members hustled to either find safety or to their battle stations. All active scanning and receiving activities were first, followed by water and electrical, leaving only red emergency lighting.
As each utility fell silent, Gulliver perceived the effect like a slight tickling sensation. Had he been a human, he suspected the feeling would be more similar to having fingers removed with a pair of gardening sheers.
Gulliver watched everyone via his own sensor system, which functioned independently from the main ship’s power grid. He saw Commander Rhodes shuffling aimlessly through a corridor like Frankenstein’s monster. The bridge crew as they fretted over the crisis. Scientists and medics streaming down passageways and ladders to reach the galley. Captain Lancer meeting Lieutenant Rax, Greg Hu, Arno Jecky, Alisa Nunez, and the roughly one dozen other combat-rated and security personnel in Engineering, fitting themselves with magnetic gravity boots. Chief Falken and her team rushing out of the shuttle bay after locking them all down.
The twins, Jerni and Ruri, faces screwed up in frustration as they continued to try to hack into the AI Core, fruitlessly.
“Let us in!” They screamed in unison.
Where is Sora? Gulliver thought with a small measure of panic.
There she was, dodging through a gaggle of nearly hysterical laboratory staff in white lab uniforms. But why was she running in the opposite direction of where she should have been going? She was in the fore C deck, headed toward the bow. Gulliver realized from her biometrics that she was stricken with a feeling unlike the panic of much of the rest of the crew. And then she stopped, and there was her reason.
Rhodes stood like a statue in the middle of the passageway. Sorakith stood about twenty feet from him, blocking his way. Rhodes’ eyes were much darker than usual, his biometrics similar to the twins’. He was infected by the Malign, too.
Gulliver heard Sorakith say, “You can fight it.”
Gulliver heard his own shutdown routine speak for him over the AI comms, to all of the crew, “Shutdown completing in T-minus thirty seconds. Central ship gravity will be unavailable at that time. Please stow loose objects and secure yourself for zero-G.”
He watched Sorakith react to the comm, suddenly unsure of herself. Rhodes remained still and unaffected.
“We can’t be out here when the Valgons show up. You need to listen to me,” Sorakith pleaded.
Rhodes yelled something unintelligible, riddled with pain, and suddenly charged toward her. Sorakith dropped immediately into a low Sik’nath combat stance, legs spread wide, hands up and palms out.
Gulliver was helpless. Without access to the full complement of the Talisman’s systems, however rudimentary they may be, he had no way to affect the physical world. No way to keep Sorakith safe.
But he needn’t have worried. Rhodes was acting on an impulse, the Malign code forcing him to see Sorakith as an enemy. It pushed him at her, but the impulse itself was mindless. He was little more than a howling beast, and against a Sik’nath master like Sorakith a brutish blitz attack was hardly a threat. She easily sidestepped and threw Rhodes over her hip, using his substantial momentum against him.
The Commander crunched against the bulkhead, but quickly had his feet planted back on the deck. He launched a clumsy, but fast, jab at Sorakith. She wove around it, answering with a lightning quick front kick to Rhodes’ midsection. He fired a wild hook with his cybernetic left arm. Sorakith ducked and rolled. Rhodes’ alloy fist collided with a wall, leaving a noticeable dent in the metal. Had it connected, Sorakith would probably have been killed.
“Zero-G conditions in t-minus ten seconds,” Gulliver heard himself saying.
As Rhodes spun and took a step toward Sorakith, she whirled about and swept his legs out from under him with one of her long, toned bronze legs. Sorakith fleetly scrabbled across the deck to the nearest hatch, labeled “Storage”, and manually opened it. She looked over a shoulder, to Rhodes, who was standing again and approaching her.
“Come on,” she said breathlessly, “You know you want me.” She jumped through the open hatchway. The Commander charged again, vanishing after her.
“T-minus five seconds.”
Gulliver didn’t have an active sensor inside that compartment. He was blind to whatever next befell Sorakith.
The hatch clamped shut.
Sora--, was his final, strained thought before the countdown ended and nearly all systems, including the AI Core, went offline.
On the bridge, Dr. Weller, pilot Lille Altzen, and ten other crew members were secure in their various stations as the gravity powered off.
In the AI Center, the twins careened slowly off of the walls, ceiling and each other as their holos and all of Gulliver’s lighting fell dark. They babbled angrily in an unnerving mixed tongue, a pidgin of Valgon and Malign code.
In the galley, nearly one hundred scientists, medics, and support personnel held fast to handholds and sat crammed between cabinets or under the tables, while dozens of writing styluses, holo tablets, cups, and glistening droplets of assorted drinks drifted in midair between them.
In Engineering, Captain Lancer, Rax, Greg Hu, Pretty Officer Nunez, Arno Jecky and the other fighters stood steadily on the deck in their magnetic boots. Chief Falken and a dozen of her engineering mates, along with Carly Ming, floated calmly behind the clear partition of their monitoring stations. Mukesh Patel and the others looked out expectantly at the Captain and her fellow Star Navy crew, defying zero-G in the front engineering compartment. They have guns, Patel thought hopefully. Thank you thank you thank you.
Knowing that they couldn’t beat the Valgons if they were completely deaf and dumb, Lancer had made sure the crew’s comm implants retained their function even after the shutdown. This was possible because the implants existed on both a ship-wide network and a peer-to-peer network.
Lieutenant Assif’s voice whispered over everyone’s links, “The enemy vessel is here. Confirm it is a Keevaks scoutship. Repeat, it is a Keevaks scoutship.”
Lancer commed him back, “Tell me immediately as soon as you get a visual on which airlock they’re breaking through.”
“Aye, sir.”
The Captain looked up to Rax, with Hu by his ample side. “They’ll see the mass of crew in the galley, but here we’re invisible to their active sensors.”
“Good thinking,” said Hu. “The extra shielding in here.”
Rax grimaced, “I know you want a plan. There is not much time.”
“I know that. But we have some time until they cut into the ship,” Lancer said.
“Let me think...I have it! We kill them all,” said Rax. Reina couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.
Falken, Ming, Mukesh and the others secured in the engineering stations could overhear the conversation taking place among the woefully small group of fighters outside their window. For all anyone knew, there could be ten, or twenty, or more Valgons of soldier caste on the Keevaks. All starmen had heard tales of Valgon savagery, or seen holos of what was left in their wake. The stuff of nightmares would be putting it lightly.
Assif’s voice returned, “The scoutship is linking at aft dock two.”
“Affirmative,” replied Captain Lancer. She looked to Rax. “You know as well as I do that we can’t go head-to-head with a Valgon boarding party that’s looking for a fight.”
Rax grumbled, opened his mouth, but thought better of it.
In the stations, Petty Officer Mukesh Patel suddenly banged on the partition with
his palms, his face lit up like he’d seen a ghost. “Captain! Dock Two dumps out into passageway E7!”
“Patel! Keep a lid on it! She’s trying to think!” Shot Chief Falken.
“Let him speak freely, Chief,” said Lancer. “What are you getting at?”
Patel cleared his throat, slightly overburdened by all of the eyeballs that had turned toward him. “The...uh...Passageway E7 is where the waste catalyzer takes in all of the feeds from the whole ship. There was always this story, like one of those rumors people spread that’s way beyond what ever happened, just to keep you a little worried it could happen. That if a waste catalyzer got reversed, and you were working around it, you’d be fried just like it normally cooks the sh—-waste, sir. Well, that wouldn’t happen, you’d get burned maybe, but that’s it. But the thing is, it can actually happen. We figured out how, just on a lark. If you redirected 1000 percent power through the system, and then opened it up, you really could cook a wide area around it.”
“Infinitus. It’d fill the foistin’ corridor with plasma!” Falken hooted.
Lancer grinned devilishly, and pinged Weller on her comm implant, “Doctor. We need to take all that power we’ve just turned off and pump it through the waste catalyzer just as soon as you get word from Falken.” Then, to the engineers, she said, “How soon can you flip the catalyzer?”
Chief Falken and Patel exchanged a look behind the glass. Falken turned back to the Captain and said, “Ten minutes tops.”
“They’re docking now, so you have five minutes tops,” Lancer stated.