In Maker’s opinion, Badukst looked as though he wanted to garrote Skullcap with his own tongue.
“You lie!” he screamed as the insectoid pulled him to a stop in front of a large metal door.
“Of course,” Skullcap retorted sarcastically. “It’s just by happenstance that I led us here, and it’s simple luck that I can guess what’s on the other side of this hatch.”
Badukst looked around in bewilderment, seeming to notice for the first time where they were. (Maker assumed that the physical and psychological toll from losing his hand had caused the P’ngrawen to somehow miss the fact that they had traveled a very specific route through the hallway, which – although it wasn’t very extensive – did have several junctions and had required them to go through multiple doors.) An expression that Maker interpreted as fretful settled on the maimed monarch’s face.
“Open it,” Skullcap demanded.
Badukst hesitated for a moment, causing Erlen (who had rejoined the group) to growl menacingly. Not daring to tempt fate, the P’ngrawen placed his remaining hand on a clear plate next to the hatch. The plate glowed briefly, then Maker heard a number of mechanical clicks – the sound of bolts and locks disengaging. As soon as the noises ceased, Skullcap tried the handle and the hatch swung open.
Skullcap and Badukst went in first, followed by the empress, Erlen, and Maker at the rear. After stepping through and closing the hatch, Maker saw that they were in a small landing bay. There was only one vessel present – a modest-sized but sleek-looking craft that looked factory-new. Maker immediately grasped that this was the personal yacht of Badukst, most likely used to effectuate a fast getaway, if and when necessary.
Skullcap hastily strode toward the ship’s entrance with the P’ngrawen ruler in tow. The empress began to follow, but then stumbled unexpectedly. Although she managed to stay on her feet, her breath sounded heavy and uneven. She hadn’t complained and had kept up without issue, but she was clearly in bad shape (even if, as she’d said before, she wasn’t in any pain). Fortunately, they were in the homestretch at this point.
“We’re almost there,” Maker said reassuringly.
“Pay me… no mind…” she insisted, moving forward.
Skullcap glanced back in their direction, plainly concerned, but stayed focused on the task at hand. He and Badukst had just reached the entrance to the yacht. It took only seconds to open the door and moments later, they were all inside.
Skullcap practically threw Badukst onto what looked like a P’ngrawen version of a sofa in the main cabin. He then headed to the cockpit, which was just a few feet away. Maker joined him, leaving the empress and Erlen on either side of the one-handed overlord. Even if he were uninjured, Badukst was unlikely to have tried anything under the watchful eye of those two. In his current state, it wasn’t even a concern.
Once in the cockpit, Skullcap wasted no time; he immediately began pressing buttons and flipping switches on the instrument panel, obviously preparing the ship for flight. As he did so, various screens and monitors on the panel came to life, providing a wealth of information about the ship.
Needless to say, the controls were all completely foreign to Maker. If forced to – and assuming he had enough time – he could probably get the craft powered up and eventually even take off. After that, however, it was likely to be a rough ride, as he had no experience with this type of vessel.
Skullcap, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease with respect to the flight controls, and it took him no more than a minute to get the ship powered up. Still, it felt like it was taking forever.
“You might want to step on it,” Maker prompted. “There were guards on our tail, and it won’t take them long to figure out where we’ve gone once they get into their ruler’s suite.” It also occurred to him that he had failed to have Erlen secure the last door they had come through.
“We’ll be gone before they reach us,” Skullcap assured him. “The ship is ready, so it’s merely a matter of opening the bay doors.”
As he spoke, he tapped a few items on a nearby screen and then gripped what Maker had assumed was the control wheel. Glancing out the cockpit window, Maker saw that they were slowly rising, and he felt himself starting to relax.
Unfortunately, it was a short-lived experience as the craft suddenly died on them. The entire instrument panel went dark, and they dropped down to the bay floor with a solid, metallic thud that echoed sonorously.
Fortunately, the yacht hadn’t risen very far, so the ship’s short plunge had been more unnerving than injurious. That said, what happened next took Maker completely by surprise.
An odd noise suddenly began to fill the ship, putting Maker in mind of a songbird trying to warble while simultaneously gulping down a worm. Looking into the main cabin (which seemed to be the origin of the sound), he saw Badukst with his mouth open, shuddering almost uncontrollably. At that moment, Maker had a revelation as to exactly what he was hearing.
It was Badukst. The P’ngrawen monarch was laughing at them.
Chapter 101
Deciding to ignore Badukst for the moment, Maker turned to Skullcap, who was hastily fiddling with the control panel again.
“What happened?” Maker asked.
“An unexpected contingency,” Skullcap replied. “Apparently the flight controls are DNA-locked. They will fully respond only when a particular person is at the controls.”
“No need to guess who that is,” Maker said, glancing at Badukst.
“You should have surrendered when you had the chance,” the injured ruler said, giggling. “After my people overrun this ship – and they will – you can all expect to spend an extended amount of time as my personal guests. And I promise, you’ll lose a lot more than a hand.”
Erlen growled fiercely, but it only seemed to embolden Badukst.
“The Vacra are as good as dead,” he continued. “I’ll broadcast the execution of your empress live.” He then turned to Maker, hissing, “And you…I will use the Senu Lia to completely exterminate your species. It will be a footrace to determine who becomes extinct first, humans or the Vac–”
Badukst found his threats cut off as the empress screeched, drawing back an arm in preparation to strike him.
“No!” Skullcap shouted in her direction, causing the empress to stop. “He stays alive for now.” He then turned his attention back to the instrument panel.
“What are our options?” Maker asked.
“I can reset the system and override the requirement for a DNA signature,” the Vacran replied, continuing to manipulate the controls. “But it will take time.”
“How long?”
“Approximately ten minutes.”
Maker shook his head. “We don’t have ten minutes. We may not even have five.”
Maker closed his eyes for a second, releasing a pent-up breath, then opened them again.
“All right,” he began, “guards are going to be flocking this way in hordes soon. I’ll hold them off as long as I can – buy you some time.”
“No,” Skullcap retorted. “As I explained, I have a duty to do all in my power to see that no harm comes to you. Thus, it should be me who faces the enemy.”
“You’re right – it should be you,” Maker agreed. “But as luck would have it, between the two of us, you’re the one who knows how to fly this boat, so you get to hang around here.” (He didn’t even mention the fact that, given the empress’s deteriorating condition, every second was critical.)
“But–” Skullcap began.
“You know we don’t have time to debate this,” Maker said. “So let’s just assume that you’d willingly take my place, protect me at all costs, blah, blah, blah.”
Skullcap seemed to contemplate for a moment, then muttered, “So be it.”
“Now, before I go, how soon can you get the bay doors open?” Maker asked.
“Immediately, I should think,” Skullcap answered. “They’re not tied to the flight controls, so I’d be surprised if the DNA lock
applied to them.”
“Great,” Maker said. “As soon as I’m back inside the flagship proper, open them. It’s unlikely that any of the guards have had the foresight to bring a spacesuit, so that will get you a few extra minutes.”
“Understood,” Skullcap said. Maker thought he detected a twinge of sadness in the insectoid’s voice, but figured it had to be his imagination.
“Here,” Maker said, taking the communicator from his utility belt and holding it out. “It’s encrypted, so we’ll be able to chat without being overheard.”
“Thank you,” Skull droned, taking the device. “Your sacrifice will not be in vain.”
“Well, I’m not dead yet,” Maker reminded him, “so let’s put the eulogy off for a while.”
“Very well,” the insectoid said, then held out a hand in Maker’s direction.
Taken somewhat by surprise, Maker just stood there for a moment. It wasn’t just that the Vacran was engaging in a profoundly human gesture; it was also the fact of what shaking that hand would mean. In Maker’s mind, Skullcap had been his enemy for years. Shaking the insectoid’s hand would seemingly symbolize a new era – a change in their relationship Maker would not have thought possible. Thus, it came as almost a shock to him when he reached out and grasped the proffered hand.
“Good luck,” Skullcap said.
“You, too,” Maker muttered, still uncertain of what he was doing.
A moment later, Maker released his grip. Skullcap went back to the control panel, while Maker stepped through the main cabin, heading for the exit. But before he got there, Erlen stepped in front of him, whimpering.
Maker bent down and rubbed the Niotan’s head.
“It’s okay,” he assured his friend. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
He then stood up and resumed walking to the door. A moment later, he was outside the yacht and headed to the hatch that connected to Badukst’s quarters.
Chapter 102
“All right, I’m in,” Maker said into his comm unit once he was on the other side of the hatch. There was silence for a moment, causing Maker to reflect on the fact that they hadn’t bothered to test the communicator before he’d left Badukst’s yacht. Seconds later, he felt relief as Skullcap answered.
“Understood,” the insectoid stated. “Opening the bay doors.”
Almost immediately thereafter, Maker heard something along the lines of a distant rumbling. Satisfied that his instructions were being followed, he decided to test a theory that had been running through his mind by trying to open the door he’d just come through. On Gaian ships, such a hatch wouldn’t open if sensors couldn’t detect an atmosphere on the other side. In short, it was a safety measure intended to keep individuals from getting sucked out into space should they carelessly throw wide a door that opened into the void (such as a landing bay which had its bay doors open).
Like its Gaian counterparts, the P’ngrawen door appeared programmed not to open under the current circumstances. Then Maker chuckled to himself, remembering that they’d actually needed Badukst to unlock the door from this side just a few minutes earlier; it probably wouldn’t have opened even if the bay doors were closed. Confident that this would present yet another barrier to their enemies, Maker turned his mind back to the task at hand.
As he recalled, they had passed through three doors during their trek from the main part of the suite to the landing bay – including the last hatch. That meant there were possibly two doors between him and any pursuing guards. The next one, if memory served, was around a corner, and as he moved forward, gun in hand, he quickly found out he was right. At that juncture, however, his luck ran out: just as he reached the door, it was being opened by two P’ngrawen guards.
The guards appeared to be engaged in conversation and didn’t immediately notice that there was someone in the passageway they were about to enter. Taking advantage of their inattentiveness, Maker shot the first one in the face. The guard flew backwards, crashing into his colleague (who was directly behind him), and they both went down. The first P’ngrawen was obviously dead, and while the second struggled to get out from under his deceased companion and get his gun up, Maker came through the doorway and shot him in the head.
For a moment, Maker simply stared at the dead guards, plainly surprised that there were only two of them. He would have thought that there would be dozens coming after him and his companions, and then the truth dawned on him: the P’ngrawens had no idea which direction they’d gone. Badukst had a palatial suite that guards were probably in the process of searching room-by-room, not to mention various hallways, secret passageways, and so on.
Maybe if they’re spread thin enough, he thought, we’ll get all the time we need.
A moment later, that was shown to be wishful thinking as – at the far end of the hallway, in the direction the dead P’ngrawen had come from – another of their fellows stepped from around a corner and into view. Unlike the first two, the newcomer was vigilant and sized up the situation immediately. In one fluid motion, he brought his weapon to bear and began firing as Maker did the same.
The exchange of gunfire was haphazard, however, as both combatants sought cover while continuing to shoot. The newcomer dove back in the direction he’d come from, taking shelter around the corner of the hallway. On his part, Maker scrambled backward towards the door he’d come through, swinging it almost shut once he crossed the threshold, leaving only a small crack to see – and fire his weapon – through.
Well, if they didn’t know where we’d gone before, they certainly do now, Maker said to himself.
***
As Maker suspected, it didn’t take long for a bevy of guards to assemble at the far end of the hallway – or rather, that’s what he assumed. He couldn’t actually see them, but he could hear multiple voices whispering. However, what the parties had was a bit of a standoff. With nothing but a narrow hallway separating opposing forces, neither side could really charge the other’s position without taking significant losses.
That said, one of the guards did lean around the corner every ten seconds or so and fire a few rounds in Maker’s direction. Although none of them came close to hitting him, he initially returned fire just to keep them honest and let them know he was still present, active, and able. However, he stopped shooting back after he realized their actions were probably just a ploy to get him to exhaust his ammo. Even worse, it had worked to a certain extent. Maker only had the one small lasergun, and its charge was dwindling fast. (He could always try taking one of the dead guards’ guns, but he’d have to expose himself, which he was in no hurry to do.)
Frankly speaking, he was surprised they didn’t just hurl a grenade at him. Then, of course, he realized that they wouldn’t risk it – for all they knew, Badukst was with him, and blowing your monarch to bits is usually a bad career move. (There was also the risk of exposing the interior of the ship to the vacuum of space, which Maker was sure they were loath to do.)
All in all, despite being outnumbered, it was looking like he’d be able to hold the guards off long enough for Skullcap to reset the system on Badukst’s escape ship.
Just to be certain, he flipped on his comm and asked, “How’s it going?”
“Slower than I anticipated,” Skullcap admitted. “We may need additional time beyond my earlier assessment.”
Maker was incredulous. “How much more time are we talking about?”
“Five minutes.”
“So fifteen minutes total,” Maker summed up, peeking out the door as he did so.
“Correct.”
Maker shook his head, frustrated. Fifteen minutes was a lifetime for someone under hostile fire. Still, he simply said, “I’m on it.”
“Also, there is one other thing,” Skullcap stated, “although I do not wish to distract you from your current task.”
“What is it?” Maker asked.
“The bridge of the P’ngrawen flagship has been in contact with us. They know where we are and have stated that
all three of their ships will fire on us if we leave this landing bay. I wanted you to know that I view those as empty threats and will attempt to escape regardless of odds.”
“Understood,” Maker acknowledged. “And agreed.” He then shut his comm off.
As he broke the connection with Skullcap, Maker suddenly became aware of a new sound – a muted buzzing that seemed to come from behind the wall on one side of the hallway.
No, not just one wall, he thought after reassessing. Both walls. And the ceiling.
Presumably, the P’ngrawen were coming through the walls, this time using some kind of cutting implement. And they were coming at him from all directions.
Maker could have kicked himself. In thinking that he and the guards were at a stalemate, he had completely forgotten about the fact that the walls of ships are seldom completely solid. They contain vents, ducts, access shafts, and more. They have to in order for crews to be able to reach areas that might need repair.
Realizing now that the soldiers at the end of the hallway were just a distraction, Maker closed and locked the door. It wouldn’t keep anyone permanently out – the door could be locked and unlocked from either side – but it would keep him from being completely surprised if someone approached from that direction. He then spent a moment listening intently.
From what he could tell, the P’ngrawen were trying to breach the hallway in six places: two on each wall (at the near and far ends of the hallway), and two in the ceiling. As if he needed proof of this, something like a buzz saw breached the wall on the right at the far end of the passageway, sending a shower of sparks cascading into the corridor.
Speculating that his spacesuit would protect him, Maker jogged down the hallway for a better look. However, he’d gone no more than a few feet before a shower of hot sparks rained down on him from above, causing him to dance to the side. As with the wall, the P’ngrawen had also breached the ceiling. Less than a minute later, fiery particles were flying into the room from all six access points Maker had identified, forcing him to take refuge against the wall in the middle of the room – the only place the sparks weren’t reaching.
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