Maker immediately understood that the P’ngrawen had the advantage in this situation. Assuming they were smart (and he had no reason to doubt that they were), they’d time things so that they came through all six “entrances” at once after cutting their way through the walls. Some of them might die, but there was no doubt that Maker would get overrun.
Badukst’s yacht would be next. The locked hatched would be an obstacle, but far from a barrier in terms of keeping the P’ngrawen guards out of the landing bay. In short order, they would sweep in, taking everyone prisoner well before the ship was ready to take off. Maker had no doubt that Skullcap and the empress would be tortured and executed. And Erlen? He couldn’t imagine all the things they’d do to the Niotan to get what they wanted.
No! Maker said to himself. I’ll never let them have Erlen.
Turning on his comm, he said, “This is Maker. Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Skullcap replied.
“The P’ngrawen are going to overrun my position shortly. My rinky-dink lasergun isn’t going to be able to stop them.”
“Then you should return. We will make our last stand together.”
“No,” Maker stressed. “I have a backup plan, but I’m the only one who can execute it. It’ll give you the time you need to get out of here. Just get your empress home so your people can survive, and take Erlen to Dr. Chantrey. She’ll take care of him.”
There was silence for a moment, then Skullcap said, “Maker, I–”
“Don’t say anything,” Maker interjected. “Just show me some of that vaunted Vacra nobility by doing what I ask, okay?”
Maker got the impression that Skullcap wanted to argue, but instead he acquiesced, saying, “Yes, of course.”
“Thanks. Is, uh…is Erlen nearby?”
“Yes. He comes close each time you contact us.”
“I should have figured,” Maker muttered, smiling. “So Erlen, I need you to listen. When you guys get back, I want you to go to Dr. Chantrey. She’ll look out for you, and I need you to look out for her, too. Okay?”
Erlen’s reply was a sad, melancholic mewling.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Maker assured him. “You’re going to be fine.”
Heart heavy, Maker then shut the comm off. Glancing at the walls, he could see that the P’ngrawen were close to getting in. Recognizing that he was almost out of time, Maker shrugged off the rucksack, unzipped it, and then dumped the contents on the floor.
As he had previously stated, there had indeed been food in the bag: protein bars, snacks, dried fruit, and other edibles. But there was one thing that definitely did not fall under the category of consumable: a box that was all white, except for one corner that was painted red.
Switching the comm on, Maker said, “Oh yeah – one more thing.”
“Yes?” Skullcap replied.
“When you leave, don’t come back for me. It’ll be too dangerous.”
Then, after turning the comm off one final time, Maker aimed his gun and fired at the red corner of the box.
Chapter 103
Maker came to feeling unbelievably parched, his throat painfully dry. If felt as though someone had sucked all the moisture out of his mouth and then poured burning sand down his throat.
“Welcome back,” said a familiar voice.
Maker looked up to find Fierce standing over him. He suddenly realized that he was lying prone in a bed.
“Where…?” Maker wheezed, his voice sounding feeble and weak.
“The Nova’s sick bay,” Fierce answered, which Maker confirmed with a quick glance around. He also noted that he had an IV in one arm. Feeling around, he managed to find the controls for the bed; a moment later, it began to incline, raising him to a seated position.
“How do you feel?” the Augman asked.
“Thirsty,” Maker managed to croak, finding the act of speaking painful.
“That’s not surprising,” Fierce stated. “You were brought in suffering from severe dehydration and all the attendant symptoms: shriveled skin, highly elevated body temperature, organ failure... In all honesty, I’m surprised you survived.”
Maker tried to speak, but ended up launching into a coughing fit. Fierce reached towards a nightstand that was next to the bed, grabbing a bottle of water that was sitting there.
“I know, I know,” he droned as he twisted off the cap and handed the bottle to Maker. “You were going to make some wisecrack about not being allowed to die without express permission from the Corps, or something along those lines.”
His coughing now under control, Maker merely pointed a finger at the Augman and gave a nod of acknowledgment, as if saying that Fierce had read his mind. He then took a sip of water. Swallowing was uncomfortable, but at the same time the water felt soothing.
“Anyway,” Fierce continued, “I’ve been trying to reintroduce fluids to your body as quickly as possible. Fortunately, there are few risks associated with rapid rehydration.”
“How…long?” Maker inquired before taking another drink from the bottle.
“You’ve been here about a day,” the Augman answered. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Maker frowned. He had a vivid recollection of shooting the red corner of one of Planck’s nanobot containers. A few seconds after that, he started feeling incredibly thirsty. At the same time, his heart started pounding wildly; it felt like a bucking bronco was in his chest trying to kick its way out. Finally, he felt himself getting light-headed. The next thing he knew, he was in the Nova’s sickbay, so presumably he passed out.
Fierce nodded as Maker, between sips of water, finished conveying all of this to him. “Yeah, all of that’s symptomatic of dehydration – especially the fainting at the end.”
“Rendered unconscious,” Maker corrected before taking another drink from the bottle.
“What?” asked Fierce.
“Women…faint,” Maker stressed. “Men…pass out…or get…rendered unconscious.”
The Augman laughed. “Fine, then – you were rendered unconscious.”
Maker smiled, then muttered in an anxious tone, “Erlen?”
“He’s fine, if that’s what you’re asking – been holding a vigil by your bedside since the moment they brought you in.”
Maker felt himself relaxing. Erlen being here meant that Skullcap had managed to get the ship powered up. They had gotten away, and Maker smiled at the thought.
“However,” Fierce continued, “I caught him licking your face a few minutes ago when I popped in to check on you, so I sent him out for disturbing my patient. That’s around the time you started waking up, so I left him sulking outside.”
“It’s okay,” Maker stated, no longer pained by speaking. “Let him in.”
“Will do,” Fierce promised with a nod. “What about the others?”
Maker raised an eyebrow. “Others?”
“Yeah,” the Augman said with a nod. “You’ve got a ship full of people all waiting to hear about whether your condition has improved. Because of doctor-patient confidentiality, I really can’t give specifics to anyone other than Adames because – as the ranking military member while you’re out of commission – he has a need to know.”
Maker nodded in understanding. “You can let them all know I’m fine.”
“Well, as your doctor I think I’ll moderate that message and just tell them you’re out of the danger zone.”
“Fair enough,” Maker acquiesced, smiling as he placed the water bottle back on the nightstand.
Fierce looked as though he perhaps wanted to say something else, but instead turned and left the room. A moment later, Erlen practically bounded in. Rising up on his hind legs, the Niotan placed his forepaws on the edge of the bed near Maker’s head, and then leaned in and nuzzled his neck.
“I know,” Maker said, rubbing the back of Erlen’s head. “I missed you, too. Next time, though, feel free to wake me up earlier.”
Erlen flopped back down to the floor and began making a curio
us noise that sounded like a combination of a chirp and a neigh. Maker interpreted it as the Niotan stressing that Maker had needed to rest.
“Okay, okay – I get it,” Maker blurted out, causing Erlen to go silent. “Evidently I needed my beauty sleep. Again.”
It looked as though Erlen were about to make some type of response, but he never got a chance as a knock sounded at the door. A moment later, it opened a crack and Adames poked his head in.
“So the rumors are true,” the NCO remarked. “You did survive.”
“Yep,” Maker said with a nod. “Although apparently by the skin of my teeth.”
“Feeling up for more visitors?” Adames asked.
“Of course,” Maker replied.
Taking Maker at his word, Adames fully opened the door and entered, followed by Browing and Chantrey.
“Wow,” Maker muttered. “I didn’t realize it was all three of you. To get here this fast, you guys must have been camped out on my doorstep.”
“Not exactly,” Adames said with a chuckle. “Fierce let me know the second it looked like you were waking up. I grabbed these two” – he tilted his head at Browing and Chantrey – “and we’ve been right outside sickbay since, just waiting for the okay to come in.”
“Well, you’ll all be happy to know I’m perfectly fine,” Maker stated.
“No, you’re not,” Chantrey chimed in. “You almost died.”
“That’s par for the course in the Marines,” Maker quipped. “If you don’t come close to dying every day, you’re not doing your job.”
He and Adames snickered at that, while Chantrey simply rolled her eyes.
“Well, we’re all glad you’re safe,” Browing noted. “But you have to admit it’s an odd turn of events: Planck activated a device that sucks the water out of everything around it, and sometime later, you almost die of dehydration. Why do I feel there’s a connection here?”
There was silence as everyone looked at Maker, who knew there was nothing to do but tell the truth.
“Ahem,” he uttered, clearing his throat. “I guess I, uh, took one of Planck’s nanobot containers when we went down to Ignotus.”
All of Maker’s visitors seemed to reflect on this for a moment, then Browing muttered, “I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Hey,” Maker intoned defensively, “we were heading into what I felt was almost assuredly a trap. If that happened, it would be us against an entire planet of Vacra. I needed a way to level the playing field, so I smuggled it in with the food in my rucksack.”
“And when the P’ngrawen turned out to be the real enemy, you just took the nanobots to your meeting with them,” Chantrey surmised.
“Again, I was looking for a way to balance the scales,” Maker stated.
“How’d you even smuggle that aboard their ship?” Adames asked. “Didn’t they scan you for weapons and such?”
“I coated the nanobot container with a special compound,” Maker declared, casting a quick glance at Erlen. “It caused the container to read as proteins and such when they scanned it.”
“And later on you activated the bots,” Browing concluded, “which explains why you ended up on a ship full of mummified P’ngrawens.”
“Wow,” Maker droned. “I guess my spacesuit must have protected me from the worst effects.”
“Yeah – the suit,” Browing said skeptically. “That must have been it.”
Left unsaid was what Maker – and probably everyone else present – already knew: that Erlen had done something to his metabolism that hindered the nanobots. (Presumably, the Niotan had gotten some sense of what the nanobots were when Maker had him “coat” the box that contained them in order to get past any scanners.)
“Wait a minute,” Maker blurted out. “Why did you even risk coming to get me? It was dangerous and stupid.”
“Talk to your friend,” Chantrey replied, nodding at Erlen.
Maker frowned. “What are you saying?”
“Basically, after he got back on board the Nova, Erlen parked himself in front of the bridge and wouldn’t let anyone enter until we agreed to go back and get you,” Adames said. “I mean, he didn’t say it in so many words, but it wasn’t hard to figure out what he wanted. Plus, Planck said it was probably safe – something about the nanobots shutting down if they go a certain amount of time without finding water.”
“It was still foolish,” Maker insisted. “So tell me, who won that lotto – Loyola? She’s been courting death this entire mission.”
“Actually, it was Skullcap,” Adames answered.
Maker blinked in surprise. “You’re kidding, right?”
Adames shook his head. “No. He volunteered to retrieve your body – said he owed you that much. He’ll be happy to hear that you’re out of the danger zone.”
“Huh?” Maker murmured. “Is he still on the Nova?”
Adames shook his head. “No, but we’re still in the Vacra region of space, and he asks about your condition almost hourly.”
Maker snapped his fingers in recollection. “That reminds me – how’s the empress?”
“The empress?” Chantrey echoed, sounding a little unsure of herself.
“Yeah, the empress,” Maker said with a nod. “She wasn’t looking that great the last time I saw her, but they obviously got away.”
“So, no one’s told you,” Chantrey stated.
Maker frowned. “Told me what?”
Browing, Chantrey, and Adames all exchanged concerned glances, while Erlen let out a melancholic purr.
“No,” Maker almost bellowed with a shake of his head, not wanting to believe what the others seemed to be implying. “No.”
“I’m sorry,” Chantrey said. “She died while they were escaping the P’ngrawen flagship.”
Chapter 104
Maker was in the observation lounge, staring out at the stars with Erlen by his side, when Skullcap tracked him down.
After the news about the empress, Maker had felt troubled in a way he couldn’t define, disturbed on a deeply profound level. The others, sensing his mood, had hurriedly departed. (Only Chantrey had lingered, promising to check in on him later.) Shortly thereafter, Maker – stressing the need to stretch his legs and get some air, so to speak – had gotten Fierce to approve him leaving sickbay for a short walkabout. Ultimately, he had found his way to the observation lounge, which was where he was when the insectoid entered the room.
“They told me I could find you here,” Skullcap said.
“Someone described the view here as serene,” Maker replied, “so I thought I’d check it out.”
“I found it to be so,” the Vacran said, looking out at the stars.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, neither speaking, just staring out at the vastness of space. Seeing the universe like this, how expansive it was – all-embracing, all-encompassing – just served as a reminder to Maker of how small and insignificant he truly was. How minuscule his impact was. How inconsequential any act that he performed. Yet somehow, in the face of all that, it felt like his failures were somehow magnified, expanded in scope for all the cosmos to see.
“It was a good plan,” he finally confessed.
“If ‘good’ is synonymous with ‘stupid’ or ‘ill-advised,’” Skullcap shot back, causing them both to chuckle.
“No, it really was,” Maker insisted. “Honestly, I’m shocked at how well you predicted P’ngrawen behavior.”
“In truth, there was little I needed to predict. They are a perverse and contrary race, so I knew that my request that the empress be in the landing bay for a quick exchange would be met with opposition.”
“No kidding. They basically put her at the other end of the ship.”
“Which was as expected. It required us to essentially traverse the length of the ship. At that juncture, it was just a matter of having the Senu Lia spew acid in strategic spots as we walked.”
Maker smiled as Skullcap spoke, recalling the surreptitious hand signals the Vacran had given
them to indicate where he wanted Erlen to work his magic as they walked through the P’ngrawen ship.
“Choosing a spot over the engines was genius,” Maker admitted. “It didn’t cause as large an explosion as we wanted, but having a dissolvent eating its way through their vessel – in multiple spots – surely kept a lot of P’ngrawen occupied.”
“I suppose that means the money I paid for the ship’s blueprints was well-spent,” Skullcap remarked, “although in many instances it showed the location of secret entrances and such, but not how to enter them.”
“You get what you pay for,” Maker said with a chuckle. “Remember that next time.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Maker found himself horrified by the comment he’d made. For the Vacra, there would be no “next time.” They had lost everything.
“I heard about the empress,” he blurted out, trying to make amends. “Please accept my condolences.”
“Thank you,” the insectoid said in a sincere tone.
Maker pondered for a moment, focusing on something that had occurred to him when Skullcap and the empress were speaking. It probably wasn’t proper etiquette, but he decided to ask anyway.
“When you called her ‘Mother,’” he noted, “it wasn’t just in the sense of her being the matriarch of your race, was it?”
“I am her offspring,” Skullcap admitted without hesitation.
Maker nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“There is no need for sorrow,” the Vacran said. “You did all that you could, even attempting to give your life for hers.”
“But somehow, I’m still here and she’s not.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Skullcap said. “She was dead before we ever left that torture chamber.”
Maker gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Before she snapped his arm off, you may recall that Badukst was attempting to subdue the empress with the control collar.”
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