by Rod Little
Sam sparked his fingers, and walked forward.
Chapter 35
Camila touched Shane's arm. She knew how worried he was – responsible for all these people.
“We can't stay here forever,” he groused. “I'm taking a small party back onto the station.”
“With four guns? And a handful of bullets?” She frowned motherly. “I don't think so.”
Kelvin shuffled up to them. “The power has been restored on the station. I don't know how. But it's on again. I don't know about all the systems, but lights and sensors are back on.”
“How?”
“Someone's on the lower decks. People say they saw men with guns. Through the port side windows they could see men passing the lounge windows.” He lowered his voice. “Soldiers are on the station.”
“Great. Like we don't have enough problems.” Shane bit his lip. “Any chance the creatures will take care of them for us?”
“It's possible.”
“It's definite,” Camila argued. “No matter how many soldiers boarded the station, those alien things will eat them all. You saw them!”
“Good,” said Shane. “One less problem. Maybe they'll fill up, and lose their appetite for us.”
Stu tore himself away from a small group of people being reassured by Margaret, Walter's wife, and now crashed Shane's meeting. “Guys, we need a plan. People are getting nervous.”
“Getting?” Shane asked. “I'm way past nervous, and six degrees beyond terrified. Try: freaked out and clueless.”
“You don't look it.”
“I'm hiding it well, my friend.”
“This old ship can't sustain us much longer,” Kelvin told them. “It's too much in disrepair. The air filters could stop at any moment, and I'm not entirely sure we're breathing clean air right now.”
The ship had not been able to fly, after all, and the engines died shortly after start-up. They were lucky that life support still functioned at all. Shane knew it couldn't fly – Kelvin had warned him – but he had to pretend there was a chance, for the sake of the others. The plan was never to fly off. They only needed a safe place to hide.
“It's time. We need to get back on the station,” Camila said.
“Agreed.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Stu said. “But I also want to remind you all of the elephant in the room. The one with six legs and fangs.”
Shane was thinking the same thing. “And then there are his brothers and sisters out there hunting us, and now – apparently – some enemy soldiers. So where can we hide on the station?”
We've already lost at least one man, he thought bitterly. Let's not lose any more.
“The secondary cargo bays,” Kelvin muttered. “They were perfect for hiding. Our plan was perfect. If only the centipede-things hadn't chased us away before we reached them. And remember that man, I don't know his name, but... he didn't do so well against them.”
One of the newer arrivals had fallen prey to the creatures and been dragged away and eaten. Shane didn't know the man, either, or why the man had lingered behind the group, but he felt the loss. The image would haunt the group for weeks to come. Shane couldn't even remember his name, and felt ashamed for that. He should at least know the names of those he is leading.
Possibly leading into their death.
He made a mental note to learn everyone's name, if they survived this day.
“We need a plan to get back to the cargo bays, then,” Stu said. “You're smart, let's think of something.”
And then the entire ship shook. Its old frame creaked and complained. Rivets strained. Something had hit them from outside. A split second later, it hit them again. It sounded like laser fire from the starboard side.
“Someone is firing on us!” Kelvin said. He ran to the bridge controls. The monitor was obsolete and its image was grainy, but it showed two Sayan warships approaching this side of Starbase 21. “Their sensors picked up our signal. They know we're in here!”
They had issued a distressed call, meant for the Praihawk, but it hadn't transmitted in time. It went out sporadically, because its array was continually falling offline. Moments earlier, it had started again, in time to get the attention of the two warship no one knew were lurking on the other side of the station.
“Those are Sayan vessels.”
“What defenses do we have?” Shane asked.
Kelvin looked surprised. “None. I told you before, this is an old ship. Nothing is operational – no shields or weapons. We're lucky if the gangway holds.”
“And if it doesn't?”
“We'll drift off into space. Without engine power, which we don't have, we'll keep drifting. We'll never get back.”
The ship rocked from another blast.
“Of course, the ship might also crack in two,” Kelvin added. “And we'll all of us float into space one at a time.”
“That would be a quicker death, at least,” Camila said. Somehow her morbid wit made others feel better. If she could joke, how bad could it be?
The ship shook again and leaned to one side, nearly knocking everyone to the floor. They steadied themselves against the bulkheads. Shane bellowed orders for his people to sit on the floor and hold onto a safety bar.
How bad could it get? Real bad. It could get real bad, Shane told himself. He never sugarcoated conversations with himself. Lie to your mom and your wife, never to your priest or yourself.
“I need answers!” He yelled at Kelvin. “I need... we need a plan, or at least an idea.” He looked at his crew, one at a time, but no answers came.
Stu grabbed his arm. “Soldiers and creatures notwithstanding, son, we must go back over onto the station. It's the only way.”
Shane winced at the idea, but agreed. Four bullets wouldn't hold back the creatures, but at least they might have a chance to hide. Otherwise, they would end up as space debris.
Metal grated against metal – the old ship was falling apart.
“Get everyone ready to cross back over,” he told Camila. “Quickly.”
He and Stu started for the door.
But then it made a sound on its own. Something scraped against it on the other side.
Something wanted in.
Chapter 36
Bohai grabbed Sam and pulled him back hard. “Get back and stand by Walter! You're going to rile them up and make things worse.”
Bohai planted himself in front of Mark and Dylan and stood his ground. Unarmed he waited for the two Saratu to reach him. There was no aggression from the creatures, but they paced nervously in front of the humans. They clicked no more, made no sound audible to the human ear.
Bohai tried to explain their situation, the Sayan allies on board, and why they had the Seed on the Praihawk. He also pumped them for more information about the missing humans, Kelvin and Shane's group. Finally, the two creatures turned and padded away on slender legs that moved like silk. They were gone as quietly as they had come.
Walter, Sam and the rest stood stock-still and watched. They scarcely stole a breath. Bohai turned around, put a hand on each of the boys' shoulders and ushered them back to Sam.
“Are you well?” Bem asked. “A most unusual exchange. They did not attack you.”
“They want the Seed put back,” Bohai said. “I promised we'd try. Which means we have to go back to the Boneyards of Nebula. But we'll work on that later. Right now, we should rescue our friends.”
“Right,” said George. “Where do we look next?”
“They're on a ship,” Bohai said. “An old ship, the Nakron. It can't fly in its condition.”
“So where?”
Bohai pointed down the hall to the secondary docking bay. “That way, down there. The old ship is still in dock. Our people are sitting on it, waiting. That's where the Saratu chased them.”
George shifted his gun to both hands. “Then let's go get 'em, and get things back to normal – or what passes for normal around here.”
Bem rolled after him.
 
; By the time they reached the Nakron, it was under attack from the Sayan warships, Sheni's friends. The Sayans had rigged ice-cutting lasers to act as weapons. They had adapted quickly to a new dogma of warfare, shedding their beliefs to get what they wanted.
“They're losing their religions pretty fast,” Sam muttered. “When they go dark, they really go dark.”
The Nakron wasn't in a docking bay. It was tethered to the outer space next to the station by an enclosed gangway for boarding. Now it shook and strained to hold the ancient ship in place while the enemy pummeled it with more firepower.
“Bem, can you open this hatch?” Walter asked. “We need to evacuate the ship, get everyone back on the station.”
“Indeed,” said Bem. He worked the controls nimbly and quickly like a piano player. The others leaned over his shoulder, and watched.
The station-side door slid open, and George walked into the gangway first. He fought to keep his balance as it rocked and swayed. Bohai followed him, and when they reached the inner door, they threw their muscles into the release lever. Though Bem had unlocked it, a manual release was needed from either side. Rusted, the lever groaned and spilled particles of corrosion onto the gangway platform.
Then it gave way, and the door popped; it unsealed with a hiss. The portal swung out wide.
Four guns pointed at the two of them, and George said, “Well, what you waiting for? Shoot us or follow us back across. I ain't waiting here all day.”
The residents of Starbase 21 filed quickly out of the Nakron and back across the gangway, balancing themselves like tightrope walkers through the thin flexible tube to get back onto the station. Once across, they milled around the halls, but didn't go far from the main group. Everyone remained close, still afraid of the Saratu, despite Bohai's assurances that no one else would be attacked today.
The door was re-sealed, closing off the station from the gangway, and through the windows they watched the Nakron sway – held tenuously by that slender tether, the gangway. The warships had stopped firing, but one remained in place. The other flew to the other side of the station. For now they would not be engaged, and the station shields were raised to full power.
Shane and Sam reunited with an awkward half-hug, while Tina and Camila were much warmer in their full hugs of both Sam and Bohai.
The crews began repairing the station and getting things back in full working order. Someone was sent to clean up the blood and any other mess left by the creatures. Shane was informed that the dead men were most likely Sayan spies.
“They weren't from Earth? And you're telling me we lost two men, not one?”
“Two,” Walter confirmed. “We saw two sets of... remains. And they were eaten, which means they were Sayan. But I cannot prove they were spies.”
“Possibly defectors,” Dexter said. “Not all of my people are happy with the results of the invasion. Some might not want to live under Lusus and Yota's autocratic rule.”
“But if they were spies, we might have more spies on board. I don't know everyone.” Shane said. “How can we find out?”
“Maybe we can't,” Walter said.
“Great! And what about those two rottweilers out there with a temper?” Shane asked, pointing to the warships outside the bay window. “How do we deal with them?”
“We really don't need to, yet,” Kelvin said. “The station shields are up. They cannot hurt us.”
“That is correct,” Bem said.
“They're making everyone nervous,” Camila said.
“You must reassure them,” Kelvin replied. “For now, the station is safe from harm.”
“And the prisoner?” George asked.
“Put her in the brig,” Dexter said.
“Do we have a brig?”
“We could lock her in one of the single quarters,” Kelvin proposed. “Is that sufficient?”
“Works for me,” Dexter said. He pointed to Sam and Bohai. “You two, come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Now is the time to fetch those books and that green bauble from the ship. I want Bem and the computers to analyze them.”
Teak had remained in his corner aboard the Praihawk, guarding the mysterious treasure. Nothing had happened during his stint; he had a good nap The strange box and its sphere were still there. Bohai carried the Seed onto the station; he didn't want the Sayan and half-Sayan to touch it for fear it would inflame the Saratu again. Sam and Dexter retrieved the two old books, and took them to the main control room on the station. Dexter handed them to Bem and tasked him with scanning all of their pages into the database and to index and analyze their contents. Bem started the process at lightning speed.
Walter took the Seed to the science lab and started running tests on it, with his wife and Dexter's help, but they knew they would find no answers. The key would be in the books. Whatever this thing was, it would be hidden in those tomes of knowledge, passed down from some other place and time.
Bohai communicated with the Saratu and oversaw their migration back to the primary garden. It was their idea; they wanted to get back to a place of comfort. There they nested and waited to see how the next few hours might unfold. They promised Bohai not to touch the Earthlings, but were perturbed about the Sayans on board the station. And the two ships filled with the Sayans – just off the station's two sides – had them even more flustered. They were not quite angry, but somewhere between galled and irritated. Bohai wasn't sure how long he could pacify the nest of centipede-born beings.
The residents of Starbase 21 slept in their own beds that night, and the station resumed its normal operations. The enemy ships did not fire on the derelict Nakron or on the station, but did not retreat, either. They stayed in place and lingered, one on each side of the Starbase, likely waiting for orders from their headquarters – no one could be sure. But they caused no more trouble that night or the next morning. For now, it was a standoff of sorts, and both parties were content to bide their time and make new plans.
“We'll need to shake some trees quickly,” Shane said. “You know reinforcements are coming. For them. Not us.”
“We should make a show of strength,” Sam urged. “Destroy both ships now. We can't tolerate this anymore. We were kicked out and prodded all the way to this Starbase, and we accept that, but they cannot come here to our doorstep. They can't! This is our space. We gave them Earth. No more. I'm tired of compromising.”
“What would you suggest, bro?”
“Blow them to smithereens. Now.”
“Can we do that?” Bohai asked.
“We can indeed,” Bem stated. He did not look up from his task of copying the books into the computer system. Thousands of words per second were being loaded into the system and run through an OCR program for indexing.
“We're not blowing up anyone!” Shane shouted decisively. “I don't know what's got into you, Sammy. All of you came back from that mission a bit... unbalanced. But we don't just blow up ships. We need to try to reason with them first.”
“That cannot harm us,” Bem interjected. “Reasoned conversation can only help.”
“See? Even robot-man here says we're okay to ride this out a bit. A thought you were supposed to come back fixed.”
“Up to you,” Sam muttered. “I'm a little tired of them dogging us.”
“The mission to Earth, the final rescue mission,” Shane said. “It's a day behind schedule. We leave tomorrow. That is our priority.”
“Who's going? You?”
“I'm staying here with Camila. You are not going either. I'll put a mission list together in the morning. I think Dexter may lead it. He wants a final word with his brother.”
“We may have another problem,” Bohai reminded them. “While the Vortex goes to Earth, we need to take the Seed back to the Nebula. The Saratu won't stop until we do.”
“We don't know what it is yet,” Sam said.
“It may not matter what it is. If the Saratu spread out over the universe, we'll need them t
o back off. We must return it to the Boneyards and bury it.”
“We shouldn't tempt fate a second time,” Dexter said. “Going back is too risky.”
“Or it might just be the perfect solution,” Shane said. “Sort of. Because it gives me a better idea.”
The room got quiet.
“Maybe we take it back the long way,” said Shane. “Because I have an idea that might make the creatures and us happy. And maybe we win back our Earth, too.”
Chapter 37
Discovery of the true origin of the Seed sprouted more questions, but it did provide some answers. Bem indexed the contents of the two space journals and pulled up each mention of the green object. He managed to compile enough information to formulate a hypothesis as to its use and power.
“It has none,” the robot reported. “It has no power. But it also has a great deal of power, and use.”
“Riddles,” Shane said. “I don't like riddles.”
“Technically it does generate a great deal of energy, but it has no military power. It is not a weapon.”
“Then what good is it?”
“Religion,” Bem stated. “Religion has stronger capabilities than any single weapon. The Saratu worship the Seed. What they think it is, I cannot guess. However, they will protect it at all costs. They will give their lives for it.”
“It was created by the ancient Earthians,” Bohai said. He had been reading the indexed journals on a computer screen. He hadn't read all 274 entries, like Bem had, but he was working his way through. “And the creatures were also created by our ancestors. The centipedes were genetically grown to fit a need.”
“Ostensibly for the purpose of protecting the balance in this galaxy,” Bem said. “If either side gained an advantage, the Saratu would restore the balance.”
“That makes no sense,” Sam said.
“In fact it does.” Bem countered. “However, it was truly intended to restore the balance only if the Sayans gained an advantage. Earth held the advantage for centuries, and nothing was done to change that. Only when the Sayans took Earth were the creatures awakened.”