by Chris Ward
‘I didn’t order him to respray her. What in Vantar’s Hells is he doing?’
They dragged their remaining supplies over to the hangar. Robot arms hung over the Matilda, working on her outer hull, some spraying her with jet-black space-grade paint.
Teer Flint appeared out of the open hatch, his lizard-like face as close to rapturous as Caladan could imagine such a creature was capable.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m a mechanic by trade but an artist by heart,’ Flint said. ‘And such a machine deserves the best an artist can offer. Such a beautiful, elegant machine.’
‘He’s gone mad,’ Beth said.
‘These shipyard chemicals,’ Paul said. ‘Cover your mouths.’
Caladan looked up at the ship, sitting at rest with its eight landing legs on the ground, for the first time in as long as he could remember all of them fully functional. In space, they reverted to eight powerful cannons which spun around the ship’s central core, or combined to form one single powerful blast. And when they wanted speed, the ship elongated into a single three-hundred-metre-long stretched teardrop, capable of passing through stasis-ultraspace as fast as anything in the known galaxy. The Matilda, old, battered, and neglected, was still a classic model from an age of starship production which had approached perfection.
And Teer Flint, with his eight spiderlike legs, had fallen in love.
‘We’ll discuss the damage to the camouflage system later—’
Flint shook his head. ‘The robot said it didn’t work properly anyway.’
‘The robot? We deactivated him.’
Flint shrugged. ‘I found him packed away and I rebuilt him. Gave him a couple of tweaks, too. He made for great conversation. I wanted to know everything about this beautiful starship, and he had a lot to say.’
‘How delightful. I’m afraid we have to leave. Just charge the accounts whatever you feel like. Someone will pay—’
Behind them, the steel doors to the shipyard burst open beneath a blast of cannon fire.
‘They’re here,’ Paul growled, pulling his blaster. ‘Here we stand, and here they fall.’
‘Just give it a rest,’ Caladan said, swiping Paul’s blaster out of his hands. ‘Get into the ship.’
‘What have you done?’ Teer Flint cried, spider legs stomping on the ground. ‘Who are these people?’
‘I think we brought the war,’ Beth said, dropping to one knee and pulling her blaster. ‘Sorry about that. It really wasn’t planned.’
Something shifted above them. Caladan looked up as a small cannon lowered from a hatch in the chassis and began peppering the smoky hole blown in the gates.
‘At least you fixed something,’ he muttered, unable to resist a proud smile as a leaping group of Evattlan warriors were blown to pieces.
‘Nice shooting, robot!’ Paul shouted, as Beth pushed him towards the hatch.
‘Come on, get inside.’
Caladan took one last look at the gates, firing off a final blast which took out an Evattlan just as it burst though, then turned and ran for the hatch.
Teer Flint was standing nearby, staring at his shipyard as laser fire battered the landing pads and hangars. One hangar was burning, while one raised landing pad abruptly began to lean as a supporting column collapsed, sending a partially repaired fighter crashing to the ground.
‘My life’s work….’
Caladan gave the nearest spider leg a nudge with his foot. ‘Never flown in one of these?’ Caladan asked as Teer Flint turned around, reptilian face wearing a deep, animated frown. ‘Now’s your chance. I promise you, it’ll certainly disappoint, but it’s better than nothing. We’ll let you pay for your passage by fixing whatever you can find.’
Teer Flint sighed, lumps of phlegm spraying from his nostrils, barely missing Caladan as he jumped out of the way. ‘You can drop me off in space,’ Flint said. I’ll join the pieces of my father in orbit.’
Caladan grimaced. ‘Wherever makes you happiest. Come on, let’s get out of here.’
They hurried inside, proton blasts sparking off the ship’s underside as the hatch closed behind them. Leaving Teer Flint down in the loading bay, Caladan hurried up to the flight deck where he found Paul strapped into the gunner’s chair and Beth just climbing out of the pilot’s. Harlan5 stood at his dashboard behind them.
‘Just getting her warmed up,’ Beth said, waving at the dashboard. ‘She’s all yours.’
‘Little Buck told me that you killed a Shadowman,’ Harlan5 said as Caladan climbed into the pilot’s chair and started the main launch thrusters.
‘What of it, robot?’
Harlan5’s eye lights twinkled. ‘Well, my programming would like to remind you that I killed two.’ As Beth started to laugh, he added, ‘Therefore, while I applaud your effort, the running score is still two to one.’
10
Harlan5
‘I think the new look suits you,’ Harlan5 said. ‘At least my programming suggests that you appear more presentable than before by acceptable human standards.’
Paul rubbed the remaining stub of beard on his chin. ‘Ruggedly mature?’
Harlan5 cocked his head. ‘Those are words my programming suggests would be deemed appropriate. If you wish, I could wake either Caladan or Miss Beth for a more casual assessment.’
Paul shook his head. ‘No, I prefer yours.’
From the other side of the cabin, Teer Flint laughed. The mechanic, who had been studying the Matilda’s construction plans on a computer screen, looked up. ‘So, which one are you after? I’m guessing the girl.’
‘Don’t you have a drain pipe you could crawl up?’
Teer Flint laughed. ‘What are his odds, Harlan?’
‘Of gaining romantic engagement with Caladan or Miss Beth?’
‘Of course Beth!’ Paul said, before he could stop himself.
‘I am merely expressing humanlike humor,’ Harlan5 said. ‘Does it appear natural?’
‘It does to me,’ Teer Flint said. ‘Come on, what are his odds?’
‘Based on my assessment of their interactions over the last few years, I’d say nine percent.’
‘A one in ten chance,’ Paul nodded, his face set. ‘I’d take those odds in a firefight with ten thousand Bareleon scum.’
‘In comparison, my own chances—were my programming to assume a level of human-like charm—would be in the four to six percent range. Master Flint’s would lie somewhere in the sub-one percent, due to evolutionary issues.’
‘So what you’re saying,’ Teer Flint said, ‘is that while we have little to no chance, his chances aren’t much better?’
‘In a nutshell. Isn’t that what a human would say?’
Paul sighed. ‘Hot damn. Perhaps if I hit the gym a little harder.’
‘I would suggest working on your understanding of Miss Beth a little more.’
‘She’s a woman. What’s to understand?’
Harlan5’s eye lights twinkled. ‘My programming could download several volumes of information on which you could get started.’
Paul leaned back, putting his feet up on the gunner’s dashboard. ‘How much longer to Dynis Moon? I need to blast something.’
‘Three Earth-days until we reach orbit,’ Harlan5 said. ‘The wormhole coordinates Caladan picked up in Docrem2 left us a little far out.’
‘Do we have a plan?’
Harlan5 reached out to his dashboard and pressed a button. The view-screens, which had previously shown a real-time view of the star field outside, changed to show a revolving orb, slowly moving closer.
‘Dynis Moon,’ Harlan5 said.
The orb grew larger until continents and oceans became visible. In orbit around it were two massive space stations, blocky squares with enormous solar reflectors hundreds of Earth-miles wide. One lit up as the other grew dark, then slowly the change reversed again.
‘What’s happening there?’ Teer Flint said, coming to stand behind Harlan5.
‘This is
a simulation,’ Harlan5 said. ‘Those two stations are automated atmosphere providers. They reflect the light from Trill Star onto the moon’s surface to create an artificial environment.’
‘They’re pretty odd-looking, all blocky like that,’ Paul said.
‘They were built by the Trill, the ancient race which terraformed this entire system before vanishing. No trace of their whereabouts has ever been found, but they left a lot of their technology behind. Some of it was replicated well enough to provide atmospheric assistance to other outlying planets in neighbouring systems, but a lot of it remains indecipherable even to the most masterful of scientists. It’s literally technology on another level of understanding, and it’s been sitting there since humanity and most other races were bugs crawling in the dirt of their homeworlds’ swamps.’ Harlan5, enjoying the drama of his explanation, waved a hand with a flourish. ‘What you see are two ancient vessels which have been orbiting Dynis Moon since the dawn of time.’
Teer Flint lifted a green, slug-like eyebrow. ‘Literally?’
Harlan5 shrugged. ‘My programming isn’t sure. However, no relics of the Trill have ever been accurately dated.’
‘How I’d love to have a closer look at one of those.’
‘We can drop you off there if you want,’ Paul said, throwing the spiderlike off-worlder a grim look.
Teer Flint’s lizard mouth gave Paul a wide, toothy smile. ‘I’m enjoying the ride a little too much to part company with you just yet,’ he said. ‘It’s been a long time since I made any friends I didn’t immediately eat.’
‘Don’t get any ideas,’ Paul growled. ‘My blaster is an extension of my hand, always ready to slap down some scum.’
‘Lucky for my shipyard,’ Teer Flint said. ‘It’s a good thing I was looking to retire.’
‘So, as I said, this is a simulation,’ Harlan5 said, interrupting them, aware that the growing animosity between Paul and Teer Flint had the potential to cause problems of harmony if it continued unchecked. ‘This is how Dynis Moon has continued for millennia. The two orbiters had become ubiquitous with the moon’s own sun. However, while ancient Trill tech can’t be well replicated, it can certainly be destroyed. Let me show you the current situation.’
The screen changed. One orbiter became a twisted mess, one wing broken free, the other compacted, like a moth crushed by a shoe. The previous lush vegetation on that side of the moon turned patchy and brown, the calm swirl of the sea becoming a raging maelstrom. Flares of colour appeared like flickering dots, and where the cloud cover had once been sparse, now great spiraling storms curled.
‘Dynis Moon is ten thousand miles in circumference,’ Harlan5 explained. ‘Roughly one third of Old Earth. Raylan’s ships fired on one of the orbiters, something expressly forbidden by intergalactic law. He did it to force Dynis Moon’s division of the Trill System Space Fleet to engage his own invasion fleet, which they did. According to transmissions I’ve managed to download, despite downing a greater number of ships, General Grogood’s forces were routed. They were heavily outnumbered, while Raylan’s forces employed a de-transmission ship to shut down their ship-to-ship communication channels. The surviving ships scattered. Raylan’s forces now control the sedate side of the moon, which he is using as a maintenance dock for ships damaged in other campaigns across the rest of the system. However, the rumours that you unearthed on Docrem2 that General Grogood might have survived, suggest his command vessel went down somewhere on the moon’s disturbed side.’
‘Huh,’ Teer Flint said. ‘So, he could be down there, alive or dead, but due to those weather systems, it’s impossible to find out.’
‘In order to pick a distress signal out of that, you’d have to go right down into it,’ Harlan5 said. ‘That’s what you signed us up for, Little Buck.’
‘To Vantar’s Seven Hells we shall go,’ Paul said, thumping the dashboard. ‘If there’s even a chance that the general is alive, we have to try. General Grogood would raise the standard, and the Defenders of the Free would come.’
‘My programming would like to remind you that the stories in those academy textbooks are fictional,’ Harlan5 said. ‘However, an attempt to rescue someone of the reputation of General Grogood could be considered noble.’
‘Who is this guy?’ Teer Flint said. ‘You know you’re going to get ripped apart in there. Such a fine ship as this….’ He shook his head. ‘Madness.’
‘While you were hiding in your web, we were fighting a war,’ Paul said, clenching a fist against his chest.
‘And doing a poor job of it, by the look of things. In how many systems are you hunted?’
‘All of them,’ Harlan5 said, his programming suggesting a sense of pride. ‘In three, the bounty on my own head is higher than that on Little Buck’s.’
‘For now, gunslinger,’ Paul growled, aiming a gun finger at the view-screens and making a couple of little bleats to simulate proton laser fire. ‘For now.’
‘You guys really are heroes,’ Teer Flint said. ‘At least four of my legs wish I’d stayed behind. So, the nearside of that moon is controlled by Overlord Climlee’s forces, is that right?’
‘Not for much longer,’ Paul said.
‘Correct,’ Harlan5 said, ignoring Paul, who had begun to make shadow poses, taking out invisible enemies with his finger gun. ‘We will need to directly approach on the tumultuous side. However, we should be able to use the damaged orbiter as shelter while we plan our surface operation.’
‘How likely is it that we’ll pull this off?’
Harlan5’s eye lights twinkled. ‘It is significantly more likely that Little Buck here will achieve a romantic attachment with Miss Beth.’
Teer Flint snorted, spittle flying from his nostrils across the gunner’s dashboard, making Paul grimace.
‘So, we’re basically going to die. Oh well.’
‘Bring her in slowly, robot,’ Caladan said, switching the flight controls over to Harlan5’s command. ‘Take her into the sun shadow behind that orbiter. The electrical interference should block any signals we’re giving off.’
Through the view-screens, half of the sky was taken up by the massive stricken orbiter they were approaching. To the left, Dynis Moon appeared as a distant orb, its upheavals unapparent at this range. The orbiter, however, looked on the verge of collapse. Great rents had been blasted in its surface, and what appeared to be wires—miles long and as thick as the Matilda’s flight deck—hung out into space like the tentacles of giant, hiding space beasts. While Harlan5 felt sure they were just pieces of broken machinery, the rest of the crew looked nervous that something enormous and ancient might dart forth to catch the Matilda in its grasp.
Harlan5 brought them in close to the stricken orbiter’s underside. Caladan growled with frustration as he extended a magnetic anchor tube, only for the orbiter to expel it with an automatic dispersion field.
‘Harlan, what’s going on with that?’
Harlan5, his programming amused that Caladan only used his name when something was of concern, checked the ship computer’s signals.
‘It’s an automatic defense mechanism to deflect space debris,’ he said. ‘And the Matilda is seemingly indistinguishable. It considers us a piece of junk.’
‘High technology that fails to recognise high technology,’ Teer Flint said, shaking his head.
Paul thumped the dashboard. ‘Can’t we board the thing?’
‘Not without disabling that dispersion field,’ Harlan5 said. ‘It’s designed to keep scavengers off the orbiter. It’s likely been that way for millions of Earth years.’
Caladan scowled. ‘I wanted to kill the engines, save some fuel while we figure out what to do.’
Harlan5 took manual control of the view-screens and zoomed in on the nearest damaged section. ‘That section ahead of us has been compromised,’ he said. ‘There is no indication of a similar field there. We may be able to nestle among those protruding wires, or even enter the orbiter through the rent in its hull, should that
be as you wish.’
Caladan glanced at the others. ‘While I’d like to remind you all that this is my ship and therefore my command, I am nevertheless interested in what you think.’
‘How likely is it that Raylan left a platoon of scumbags onboard?’ Paul asked. ‘My trigger finger is getting itchy for some destruction.’
‘Getting us killed in a pointless battle won’t save General Grogood,’ Beth said. ‘Harlan, is there any indication that Raylan’s men have boarded the orbiter?’
Harlan5 shook his head. ‘None, Miss Beth. My programming suggests that Little Buck will have to wait a while longer for some gunslinging action. However, it would be best to be cautious. Dynis Moon was a popular port of call for a lot of ships heading in and out of Trill’s inner system. Nearby are wormholes leading into both Phevius and Quaxar Systems. Therefore, we should be cautious. It’s not just Raylan’s forces that we need be concerned about.’
‘Bandits and scavengers,’ Caladan said. ‘This would be the perfect place to hide while they raided the surface.’
‘It would take some guts to go down there,’ Teer Flint said.
‘I’m not nearly drunk enough,’ Caladan said. ‘We didn’t have time to pick up any booze back on your rock. Okay, robot, take us in to those nearest cables and attach a grapple. We’ll power down while we figure out what to do.’
‘Aye, aye, Captain.’
Everyone seemed to have a different idea of what course of action they should take. Harlan5 watched with interest as the humans argued with Caladan. Teer Flint, the newest member of their ramshackle crew, who belonged to an off-worlder race Harlan5’s database couldn’t identify, did what Harlan5’s programming suggested was the best thing to do in the circumstances and stayed out of it. Sitting at a separate maintenance console while he studied the Matilda’s inner workings, Teer Flint appeared to have an almost idol-like worship of the ship. While Harlan5 had to stimulate recognised human and subspecies emotions, his programming suggested that were he human, he would get on rather well with the eight-legged half-lizard, half-spider, who had a knowledge of starships deeper than any off-worlder he had ever encountered.