by Chris Ward
‘Then I’d like to have a word, if I may.’
Teer Flint nodded. ‘I’ll come with you,’ he said, touching a blaster on his hip. ‘Don’t get too close, just in case. Even though I fixed this ship, I’ve found her systems a little … unpredictable.’
‘You’ll get used to it,’ Beth said, smirking as she hit the door control.
The prisoner hold had cells for up to three prisoners, partition walls allowing a single cell to be split. At the moment the partition walls were up. Captain Adams and Revel Sind sat beside each other on a bench against the back wall, an electrified gate keeping them from trying to escape. Beth glared at them, then pulled out a chair from under the guard’s terminal desk, designed for when the Matilda had a larger crew. Teer Flint stood beside her as she sat down.
‘Surprised to see me again?’
Captain Adams looked up. Beside him, Revel Sind hissed. ‘Protecting General Grogood at all costs was our mission,’ the captain said. ‘I don’t expect a few thieves and smugglers to understand that.’
‘We’re with the Defenders of the Free. We’re on the same side.’
‘The Defenders of the Free is just a name. It’s meaningless. You want to win this war, you have to protect the assets that can win it for you.’
‘At the expense of a few civilians?’
Captain Adams leaned forward, meeting her gaze. ‘Yes.’
‘You’re a savage.’
‘And you’re lucky to be alive. Millions have died in this war, and millions more will, unless we do what’s necessary to defeat Raylan Climlee’s forces.’
Beth wanted to berate him, but the days spent on Dynis Moon’s surface had left her weary beyond words. Instead of angry, she just felt tired.
‘We’ll let your superiors decide what to do with you.’
‘My only superior is General Grogood of the Trill System Space Fleet. I pledged allegiance to the general and I serve no one else. I would die before I renounce his command.’
Beth sighed. She looked around for the box containing General Grogood’s head, but it was nowhere to be seen. She hoped it had fallen into a magma-filled fissure somewhere back on Dynis Moon.
‘Where is he?’ she said. ‘Were you lucky enough to lose him?’
Captain Adams shook his head. ‘The general is up on the flight deck, where he deserves to be. Hopefully he’s teaching his worthless son how to fly like a real man.’
Beth frowned. ‘His … son?’
She glanced at Teer Flint, who gave her a bemused look. ‘It’s complicated,’ he said. ‘But at the same time, it has a certain … irony.’
Paul looked up as the flight deck door slid open and Beth stepped inside, her eyes widening with surprise. Paul gave her a warm smile, but her gaze was caught first by the wreckage of a robot standing in Harlan5’s maintenance berth, then by the box sitting on the co-pilot’s dashboard.
‘I’m guessing you had a bad day, Harlan?’ she said, as the robot’s head swung towards her, a single remaining eye light twinkling in greeting.
‘It would be accurate to say more than one,’ the robot said. ‘However, things have taken a turn for the better. I’m glad to see you looking so well, Miss Beth.’
‘Never better.’ She nodded at the box containing General Grogood’s head. ‘What’s that doing there? And what’s this I’m hearing about that thing and you, Paul—’
Paul put up a hand. ‘I was going to tell you, when the time was right.’
‘That’s your father in there? What’s left of him?’
‘We fell out before I joined the space academy. He felt I let down the family.’
‘You told me your father was a pilot in the Trill System Space Fleet.’
Paul nodded. ‘He is. Or was.’
‘He says that he still is,’ Harlan5 said. ‘And he’s got a few more things to say too, but I think it’s best for Miss Beth’s sensitive ears if I keep him muted for the time being. If he offers anything that can benefit us, I’ll relay the message, but my programming believes that it could be some time before his anger and bitterness recede.’
Paul was still watching her, his puppy-dog eyes leaving a lump of revulsion in Beth’s throat. She knew him well enough that she would almost call him a brother … but he had never seen it like that.
‘I could do with a gunner,’ he said, nodding at the view-screens. ‘We’re about to run into a little trouble.’
Snapping back into action after days of living through what now felt like a cold, horrible nightmare, Beth jumped over the back of the chair, landing neatly, rapid fingers quickly bringing her terminal online.
‘What’s the state of play?’
Paul had reverted to the hardened pilot Beth preferred. ‘We got off the moon easily enough, but it looks like the scum sent in a welcome party. We’ve got thirty-seven Shadowman Class 12 Battleships up ahead. Fully armed, by the look of things.’
‘The crashed ship in which you were briefly a prisoner was a Class 10,’ Harlan5 said. ‘Those were a child’s toy at three Earth-miles long. These come in at just a little over seven. Capable of carrying a full complement of ninety V-5 Shadowman light gunships, or eight hundred fighters. One ship alone is enough to engage many minor space navies.’
Beth turned to Paul. ‘And you’re flying straight towards them?’
‘We don’t have a lot of choice. Our speed is limited because of all those refugees in the cargo holds. We need to get through the first wave, accelerate past them and then hit a wormhole out of here.’
On the view-screens, a mist of lights was spreading out from the nearest battleship, like a giant illuminated net about to engulf them.
‘Please tell me they haven’t just launched their fighters?’
‘I’m afraid, Miss Beth, that according to the transmissions I’m picking up, they have identified us as a possible threat.’
‘We’ll take out as many as we can,’ Paul growled.
Beth shook her head. ‘And how many is that? Five? Ten?’
‘I reckon I’m good for twenty-five if the shields hold a while—’
‘No! It’s not just your life on the line here!’
‘The old man thinks I can’t fly this thing—’
‘My programming would like to remind you that only twenty percent of possible maneuvers are available without risking the safety of those onboard,’ Harlan5 said. ‘While it’s possible that we could increase our speed, break through them, and slingshot past their fleet, it’s more likely they will either anticipate the move or we’ll take too many hits on the way through.’
Paul looked around at Harlan5. ‘Then what do you suggest?’
‘If we change course away from the fleet and head out into deeper space, we can hide.’
‘Where?’
‘The stricken orbiter.’
‘Won’t they follow us?’
‘My programming suggests that if we switched off all external systems at exactly the right moment, we could fake a stasis-ultraspace jump into an unknown wormhole, while actually hiding out inside the orbiter. Then, when their attention diverts elsewhere, we can make our escape.’
‘I like that plan,’ Beth said.
‘I’m no coward,’ Paul growled. ‘I bet the old man is berating me for even considering it.’
‘Actually, General Grogood considers it a rather viable plan.’
Paul had turned back to the pilot’s dashboard, but Beth glanced back at Harlan5. The robot’s eye light dimmed in the hint of a wink. She didn’t know what the general was really thinking, but if Paul was satisfied, that was enough. She glanced at the box, sitting on the dashboard between them, and saw the head shaking back and forth inside. General Grogood didn’t look particularly happy about anything. Perhaps it was for the best that his transmitter was turned off.
‘Okay,’ Paul said. ‘I’m resetting the course. There’s a battleship moving to intercept us, but I don’t think it understands just how quick this bad boy can move.’
‘Gir
l,’ Harlan5 said.
‘What?’
‘Bad girl. We’ve always considered the Matilda to be of a female persuasion.’
‘I appreciate your quaintness,’ Paul said, ‘but I’m in the business of keeping these poor damn refugees alive.’
‘And you’re doing a great job,’ Beth said, patting him on the arm before rolling her eyes at Harlan5.
On the view-screens, the field of stars began to shift left as Paul turned the ship, angling her away from the space fleet. Beth saw one larger blot moving around, but as the Matilda accelerated, it began to fall away.
‘They’ll think we’re desperate,’ Harlan5 said. ‘Heading out into deep space. There are no known wormholes in this sector, and the orbiter is highly unstable. Only a fool would risk going anywhere near it.’
Paul just frowned, but said nothing.
‘The general wishes to say something,’ Harlan5 said.
‘Spit it out. Remind him that I don’t take orders from disembodied heads, even if they are … well, my father.’
‘I’m proud of you, son,’ Harlan5 said, putting on an approximation of General Grogood’s voice which made Beth smile. ‘You’ve made the decision I would. It might not be the most heroic, but it’s the best in the circumstances. Maybe you are my son, after all.’
Paul’s cheeks colored. ‘Thank you … Father.’
As he turned back to the controls, Beth looked back at Harlan5, frowning. The robot cocked his head, giving half a shrug. Beth smiled. She glanced at the head in the box, an angry scowl on its embalmed head. She found it hard to believe the general would have said something so nice, but if it helped Paul….
‘Moving all power to the rear thrusters,’ Paul said. ‘Those ships think they’re fast … they’ve seen nothing.’
Beth patted him on the arm. ‘My hero.’
‘You’ve got that right.’
As Paul accelerated, the battleships receded on the rear view-screens. The mist of fighters faded until they could no longer be seen by the naked eye. Beth hoped they had returned to their ships, that their commanders would give up on the Matilda, let her go.
Up ahead, a small dot appeared, then gradually grew larger, until the gigantic orbiter filled most of the sky. Beth gasped in awe at something truly alien, built by a race long since vanished. With its massive miles-long sails yet its curved, almost greenish body, it looked like a space station and something organic at the same time, like a giant, stricken space butterfly. No scientist had ever fully understood the technology of the ancient Trill, she knew, despite millennia of study. Many had resigned themselves to simply having gratitude for the almost-godlike tech which had brought life to so many deep system planets which might otherwise have been lifeless balls of rock and ice.
And at the sight of the damage that had been caused by Raylan’s fleet, she could only feel a knot of anger. If the war was ever won, systems could rebuild, planets recover … yet this great, ancient machine could never be repaired.
‘About to turn off all systems,’ Paul said. ‘Hang on there. This will only be a few seconds while we get out of sight.’ He pressed an intercom button on the dashboard and leaned forward. ‘This is your Captain, Paul … Grogood speaking. Please be aware that there will be a brief systems outage. Make sure you’re hanging on to something, but don’t be alarmed. All systems will be restored shortly.’
He switched off the intercom, then glanced at Beth, a smug smile on his face. ‘How was that?’
‘Captain?’ she said.
‘I think it’s best that I assume command, as the senior … able-bodied officer.’
‘Just fly the ship,’ Beth said.
The orbiter filled the entire sky, its huge wing-like reflectors bent and misshapen, the damage caused to them bringing a tear to Beth’s eye. She glanced across at Paul, who was staring out of the view-screens with a grimace on his face that suggested he might feel something similar.
‘All right, systems going down in five … four … three … two … one—’
Paul hit a button on the dashboard. A side thruster briefly engaged, checking their forward progress, angling them into towards the cavernous hole blown in the orbiter’s side . A moment later the ship’s power cut out and the entire flight deck went dark. The distant glow of Trill Star reflecting off the orbiter’s wings was the only light. Outside it would be blinding, but an automatic tinting system protected their eyesight. Beth stared in awe as they drifted closer.
All around them, the world went black as they passed through the opening in the orbiter’s hull. Beth glanced at Paul, but she could no longer see anything as the cabin went completely dark. She felt something else too, a creeping sense of cold which was the cabin quickly cooling with the heating systems down. She could only imagine what the people in the holds were going through. Not much longer—
‘My programming suggests we should turn the systems back on now,’ Harlan5 said from behind her, echoing her thoughts. ‘We are far enough inside the orbiter to have fooled the Shadowman fleet into thinking we have entered stasis-ultraspace.’
‘A few more seconds,’ Paul said.
‘Paul—’
‘I’m the captain, I’ll make the decis—’
The Matilda shuddered as they struck something, throwing them one way, then back the other. Beth’s harnesses jerked at her body, while behind her, she heard Harlan5 crashing over.
‘Paul! Switch it on!’
‘Hang on, where’s the accursed button—’
The ship rocked again as though they were caught in a giant swaying net. ‘Quickly! Harlan, can’t you do something?’
‘I’m afraid I’m not the robot I once was.’
‘There!’
The lights came back on. Beth gasped as the hum of machinery came from all around her. On the dashboard, an intercom button was flashing. Paul leaned over and pressed it.
‘What are you idiots doing?’ came Teer Flint’s voice through the intercom. ‘We’ve got women and children down here. It’s freezing.’
‘A few minor technical mishaps,’ Paul said, brushing down his jacket. ‘We should be back in order now.’
Beth leaned forward and pressed a button to activate the view-screens. Everything outside was black, so she switched on the Matilda’s outer lights to give them a better idea of their situation. Something about the way the ship had rocked made her nervous. They should be safely floating in a void inside the orbiter’s damaged hull, but somehow she doubted it.
The lights revealed a tangled black mess that looked like a giant fishing net.
‘Harlan, what on old Earth is that?’
Harlan5 peered at his terminal screen. ‘The good news is that the ship’s systems seem to be working again, while inside the orbiter we have a perfect shield against outside detection. However, it does appear that we have become entangled in something, perhaps part of the orbiter’s wiring system.’
‘Robot, can we blast our way out?’
‘I’m afraid not. We’ll likely only cause damage to the Matilda’s hull.’ His eye light twinkled. ‘My programming suggests we are in what you humans might call a bit of a pickle.’
24
Caladan
Being near to them made him feel itchy, and it wasn’t just because of the bugs that crawled across their skin and occasionally jumped over onto his spacesuit as though taking a holiday. Nor was it the way his chin and jaw felt as the hair got used to the idea of growing again. Surrounded by creatures as black as coal, as tall as trees, yet thin enough he could have reached out and snapped them with a quick twist of his wrist, he felt something had gone wrong in evolution to allow them to exist.
Not that the Shadowmen seemed to care. In fact, their faces, overlarge on heads that looked too big for their spindly bodies, appeared full of joy, if he was reading their expressions and body language right. Smiles that made the hairs on his arms rise with revulsion were wide enough to almost split their heads in two, while from the way they chattered to each
other in a language he couldn’t begin to understand, he felt certain that some part of their plan had gone as they had hoped.
After the tube had drawn them up into the ship, he had encountered Evattlan warriors standing guard inside the main hangar. Eyeing the genetically modified giant bugs warily, he had waited for the Shadowmen to order him ripped to shreds. Instead, however, they had all waited together in a loading bay while the ship rumbled around them. He got the sense they were moving up through the atmosphere, back into orbit. When, after a few minutes, a sudden groan in the engines made the ship shake, one of his captors went to the nearest wall and switched on a view-screen as large as most fighter craft. Showing a view of the moon’s surface below, they watched as an area several hundred miles across turned into churning lava with the explosion of the super volcano. Despite the rocking of the ship, the Shadowmen made little chirps and whistles as though the utter destruction brought them a euphoric sense of joy.
Soon, the moon’s surface was so far below that the super volcano had become only a dim crimson glow, obscured by what remained of the moon’s atmosphere. With a whir of motion, the ship rotated, and the view-screen filled with stars. This seemed to galvanize the Shadowmen back into action. After a sharp whistle to the nearest Evattlan guards, who moved forward to accompany them, the group began to move deeper into the ship.
Caladan had never been onboard a Shadowman ship before. He had long ago come to the conclusion that most starships in the Estron Quadrant were of a similar appearance when you got down to their nuts and bolts, but most Fire Quarter shipyards were run by humans, human-associates, or subspecies, who knew their markets and the dimensions of their potential customers. At times he had been onboard ships belonging to totally alien races, like the huge, long-lived Grun, whose ships were of a dimension which made him feel like a mouse running through a giant’s house, or the lizard-like Rue-Tik-Tan, whose ships always included environmental control areas, entire decks which resembled swamps and jungles for whenever their crew began to feel homesick.