by C. W Tickner
‘I have a suspicion,’ Kane said looking at Tess, ‘that there is more to Screw than meets the eye.’
When she didn’t meet his eye he prompted her. ‘Tess?’
Tess sighed. ‘He’s a Hoarder,’ she said.
‘Huh?’ Harl said. They all looked at her, perplexed at the revelation.
‘Well,’ she went on, ‘he was born a Hoarder and as a child grew up as one of them. When he was a boy, an engineer found him after a terrible accident that killed his parents. The engineer was on a treasure hunt and an explosion drew them to the area. Screw told me it was a battery blow out. It had corroded until eventually it split apart and showered the passing group in battery acid. He was found by the engineer underneath the bodies, miraculously unhurt. He raised him and taught him all he knew. And talking of knowing...’ she stared at Kane. ‘How did you know that?’
Kane smiled. ‘It was during our time searching the ship. He seemed to intuitively know where he was going. Never put a foot wrong or took the wrong turn and yet claimed he hadn’t been so deep in the ship. Also, his jacket.’
‘You knew from his jacket?’ Troy asked.
‘I did,’ Kane said, clearly offended. ‘The way the tools were sewn onto the jacket. The pockets and pouches around it matched Dana’s when we found her, even the stitching was the same.’
‘Maybe next time you figure something out,’ Damen said, ‘you’ll tell us about it and save the trouble.’
‘Perhaps,’ Kane said, rolling his eyes, ‘you would like my thesis on fusion reactors and their plasma properties? Maybe my theory on how humans evolved from a dim witted ancestor, maybe that would explain your own mind set.’ He was turning pink with effort. ‘I don’t need to explain my every single line of thought to you-’
Damen made a grab for him, swiping the air as Kane leant back out of range.
‘Cut it out,’ Tess said, shooting Kane a furious look. When they had stopped she turned to Harl holding the copper comb out to him. ‘He gave me this after he told me the story, said it belonged to his mother and asked me not to mention it again.’
‘So Screws down there now,’ Damen said, ‘what will he do about Marlin?’
Tess shrugged. ‘Who can say? I wouldn’t want to be Marlin when he catches up with him.’
‘What now?’ Troy asked walking to the bars hitting them hard with his palm. ‘If Marlin finds Dana, she’s done for.’
‘We’ll figure a way out, Troy,’ Harl said, ‘and put a stop to his madness.’
‘We can strangle the guard when he brings food next,’ Damen said stepping up to the bars along the front and peering left towards the door.
‘Maybe,’ Troy said, ‘the women can use their charms to make him free us?’
Sonora, Kane and Harl all frowned at him. Tess took a step towards him, fists clenched.
He threw both hands up, backing against the bars. ‘Just saying,’ he said ‘it would work on me.’
‘A plucked chicken would work on you,’ Harl said, bringing a chorus of chuckles from the cell.
Tess had stopped in front of Troy and was staring passed him.
‘Could we break the bars?’ she said pushing Troy aside and grabbing a thick metal rod.
Kane sprung to his feet and bustled Tess to one side. She knocked her hand against the bars and quickly checked her nails before scowling at Kane as he ran a thin pale hand down the corroded steel.
‘I’ve got it,’ he said, ‘with the correct leverage…’ he muttered to himself, ‘the corrosion will have weakened them.’ He strained against the nearest pair, grabbing a rod in each hand and feebly attempted to pry them apart, gaining nothing but a laugh from Damen.
Unfazed, Kane scanned the cell, his eyes lingering on the bench, the only object in the room other than the food trays.
He strolled across and rubbed a finger over the rusted fixtures that attached it to the grubby wall.
‘Help me get it off,’ he said, making Sonora jump up as he rattled he frame
‘Sorry,’ he said.
Damen and Troy gripped the bench and together the three of them shook it. When it failed to move, Harl added his own strength, rattling the frame. The bolts sheared and gave way as the vibrations worked against the corroded steel. The frame buckled as it tore away from the wall and floor.
Kane pointed at the longest strut not bent from the force. ‘Can you break it off?’
Damen held the bench, pinning it against the floor like a wrestler as Troy twisted the metal back and forth until it split off. He handed the long pole to Kane who tucked it between the base of the two bars and strained against it.
Even with Harl, Troy and Damen heaving at it, the bars stayed resolutely straight.
‘It won’t work,’ Tess said.
‘And why not? Kane said panting as he adjusted his grip and readied to try again.
‘Well if you hadn’t barged me out of the way,’ Tess said, ‘I might have saved you the trouble. But if I was going to do it I wouldn’t choose a load bearing section of wall.’
‘What?’ Kane said, stepping back and inspecting the bars, top to bottom.
Tess strolled a few pace down from where they had been and rapped her knuckles on the steel. A dull hollow ring echoed through it.
Gorman chuckled, ‘Sounds right from here.’
Kane hurried over and banged the lever against the bar in frustration.
‘Shh,’ Harl said, ‘you want them to come in here?’
Kane looked at Tess, ‘You’ve been here before.’
She stormed over to him. ‘I most certainly have not,’ she said, each word punctuated with a poke of her comb in his chest. ‘From what you’ve told me, you have been behind bars more than once, which should make you an expert on the subject.’
Kane leant against the lever and even without Damen or Troy, the bars eased apart. The gap widened as Troy joined in, lending his strength until a sizeable opening had appeared.
They piled out one by one. Damen went first, backing against the side of the outer door to make sure the guard didn’t return without being able to grab him.
The cell room door was unlocked. Either Gorman’s comment had unnerved the guard as he left or they’d put too much trust in the thick rusted steel bars.
Chapter 32
We are the first party to go so close to the creature as it is kneeling at the edge of the fields. My commanders are hoping we can make a valuable ally in this world of giant beasts and plants. It has extended its hand. I will now take my sample.
‘Fascinating,’ Kane said as they rounded another corner.
‘What?’ Harl asked.
‘No guards,’ he said.
‘Pity,’ Damen said wringing his hands together.
Harl thanked their luck as he looked back at Sonora guiding Gorman while Troy kept watch behind. He dared not think what would happen if they encountered resistance while unarmed, leading a blind man and carrying a baby.
Tess led them, navigating around the main public sections where most people would be while Gorman acted as rear guard, using his acute hearing.
Tess froze at a corner, forcing Damen and Harl to bump in to her back.
Harl caught a glimpse of a man in a blue work suit beside an open maintenance panel before back-peddling out of sight.
Tess turned to Harl ‘Grab him.’
Not giving Harl a chance to reply, she stepped out into the worn corridor and took a pace back to the far side of the tunnel so he would be able to grab the man as he passed.
‘We need maintenance up in sector four of medical,’ She said, starling the worker.
‘Huh? The man said, perplexed at the interruption.
‘Main-te-nance,’ Tess said, slow and deliberate.
The man grunted and Harl heard the thud of the panel being replaced then footsteps growing louder. He crouched like a hunting animal, ready to strike.
‘I’m not some slave always ready to fix something,’ the man said. ‘What can you pay?’
> A flash of blue was all Harl needed and as he sprung the trap the man twisted at the movement, startled to see six desperate faces huddled around the corner.
Harl snatched the man’s collar, hauled him close and as he was thinking what to say, Damen’s meaty fist thumped down on top of the man’s skull.
Harl eased the unconscious workman to the floor and propped him against the wall, his head leaning on the damp moisture absorbing cloth that lined the hallways.
A few turns and they stood in front of scratched and dented elevator doors.
‘We’ll get up to medical first,’ Tess said as Sonora led Gorman inside. ‘When you find Screw down in the lower decks, bring him up and we can figure how to find Dana and stop Marlin before he goes ahead with his plan or we’re stuck here.’
‘Are you sure he’s down there?’ Harl asked.
‘No,’ Tess said, ‘but I can’t see him up in captain’s office again or working in engineering after what Marlin did. He didn’t take a radio with him so it’s guess work from here on out. Good luck.’ She shuffled in the cramped space, smiling at Kane who turned to them.
‘I’ll be going with them,’ he said stepping inside. ‘If I can find a computer up there I might be able to access the ship’s systems and figure out how to stop the Aylen ship and break free.’
‘Coward,’ Damen muttered as Harl placed a hand on Gorman’s bony shoulder.
Kane shot Damen a black look and Harl wondered if things would hold up between the two.
‘Look after them,’ Harl said.
‘Of course lad,’ Gorman said, ‘be careful down there, something isn’t right. Watch yourselves.’
The battered doors slid shut leaving Harl with Damen and Troy waiting for an empty lift to return.
The three men stepped out on to a rusted metal bridge in the dimly lit water deck. Compared to their last visit, the room was humid and damp. Drops fell into the vast water basins beneath them from triangular points set in the low roof which allowed condensation to trickle down and return to its source.
The humidity could be tasted with each breath as they headed along a walkway that stretched over one of the huge pools below. Their path led through the maze of slime coated bridges that spread around and over the other basins. Some of the bridges rose so close to the ceiling that Damen had to hunch over at the highest points.
Harl remembered the route from the hole he’d cut and led them over the pools to one that edged the entire deck. Thankfully it was empty, any attempt to fill it would have resulted in the water being lost to the bowels of the ship. They used the stairs leading down to the bottom of the wide empty basin, easily spotting the hole they had cut at one end as light shone through the gap, illuminating the dark steel.
Harl poked his head through. The room beyond was a horror show. Half dried blood pooled on the floor where bodies had lain, lit up by dim lights in the ceiling. He pictured Gorman just through the hole listening to the screams of the dying. Red droplets spattered across the walls, mingled with black burn marks from stray shots. Most of the marks were on the floor as if those firing were aiming at the ground.
‘They were sitting down when the guards opened fire,’ Damen said, kneeling to inspect the blood from various angles.
‘Bastards,’ Troy said, running his hand along the metal floor where grooves had been scuffed from something heavy on top. ‘What made these?’
Damen shuffled over, staring intently at the marks. ‘Tanks,’ he said simply.
‘Or just one going back and forth.’ Troy said.
Harl followed the trail into the tunnels leading from the room they’d been chased through so long ago and saw scrape marks lefts on either side of the tunnel. Someone had crashed a tank through it. Forcing the machine through had widened the corridor. Huge scratches furrowed along the wall and passed bent steel panels.
The tracks led to the broken door where Dana had used her staff to force it open, allowing them all to squeeze passed. Now the door was replaced with a tank sized hole surrounded by sharp twisted metal edges.
It opened onto the pod room, lit by a smattering of dying torches and glow sticks. The ranks of human sized cylinders lining the vast room stretched far into the distance recesses of darkness. The closest containers had been ploughed aside by a tank that sat on the edge of the clearing where the pods had been pushed to. It was a hulk of steel, out of place among the scattered pods but imposing even with a hideous cargo on its roof. Harl moved to the machine, gagging on the stench of dead bodies that were lain across it, neatly lined up on the top.
As Damen picked up a battered javelin, Harl peered into the nearest pod. Blood streaked the outside as if a wounded man had climbed inside to find final peace but the face inside was of a dead Hoarder. He slipped passed a dozen similar caskets. Each bore signs where the dust had been unsettled by large hands and all contained fresh corpses. Some were burnt and others mutilated but all had arms crossed over chests and closed eyes.
‘Over here,’ Troy said from the opposite side of the machine. Harl found him staring up at a crooked hole in the ceiling high above. At his feet was a chest high pile of wreckage, bent plates and rusted roof supports.
‘Shh!,’ Troy said, eyeing the pile suspiciously, ‘thought I heard something.’
Harl spotted a flicker of illumination from between two steel plates. Kneeling, he lifted a square plate with both hands revealing a foot.
‘Poor luck,’ Troy said but leapt back as the foot gave a twitch and the heap emitted a low groan.
‘Someone’s inside,’ Harl said, as Damen rushed over to help, using the javelin to lever the heavy plates off.
In a moment more of the leg was revealed, clad in the same copper armour Dana and other Hoarders had worn.
As Troy jiggled a sheet free, a spanner clattered out from underneath as if the metal plate had been propped up by it.
‘Who is it?’ a voice mumbled from inside.
‘Harl,’ he said, recognising Screw’s gravelly voice.
‘Can you get me out?’
‘Hold on,’ Harl said as the three of them tossed sections of plating aside and slowly uncovering the engineer limb by limb.
When he was able to scramble free and stretch out, Screw gleamed in a suit copper armour covering the engineer from head to toe. Pauldrons, gauntlets and an intricate chest plate had been clipped to his bulging muscles. Each piece was hammered into form from a random ship component, skilfully beaten to shape. It was solid work, no difference in angle and thickness from one shin pad to another. The construction mirrored its new owner, solid and sturdy, but Harl knew Screw must be feeling lost inside.
‘Bloody ceiling,’ Screw said, kicking one of the plates that had trapped him. ‘Place is falling apart.’ He limped towards Harl, nursing a bloody leg and extended a gore caked hand. ‘Thanks,’ he said.
‘What happened?’ Harl asked putting his own hand out, unsure. The engineer clamped a vice-like grip around his fingers.
Screw laughed sourly and the handshake weakened. He waved at the row of bodies across the machine.
‘A massacre,’ he said and spat a glob of blood and dust on the floor, ‘Marlin’s massacre.’
‘Gorman heard it all,’ Harl said, ‘but wasn’t able to do anything against so many.’
‘Wish I could have helped,’ Screw said staring at the shocked faces of the dead lined atop the tank. ‘I had no idea what he was up to until it was too late. I grew up with some of them.’
It was a confession of sort but Harl saved him the effort.
‘Tess told us everything,’ he said.
‘Not much you can do about your past,’ Damen said, ‘cept fight harder.’
Screw nodded slowly. ‘They weren’t bad people,’ he said, ‘just lived rough lives is all. The prejudice was against them from the start.’ he sighed, ‘I tried to make amends.’
‘Is that what you were doing down here?’ Damen asked.
The engineer shrugged, moving the heavy chest plat
e. It was patterned with intersecting lines in what had to be a compact map of the ship. ‘I didn’t know what to do.’ Screw went, ‘I thought they at least deserved a decent end.’
A scuffling made Harl look up passed the tank at the dark rows of pods spreading out into the huge room but only shadows were visible beyond the circle of torch light.
Screw flicked on his helmet light and scanned over the eerie pods.
‘What’s with the armour?’ Damen asked rapping his knuckles on the orange metal plates.
‘In our society,’ Screw said, ‘custom demanded the higher the person’s station the more copper we wore than those beneath us. I guessed I’m the last Hoarder and so I should wear it all.’
‘I hope your not the last,’ Troy said.
‘Dana,’ Harl said, seeing Screws confusion.
‘Where is she?’
‘We’d hoped you could tell us,’ Troy said, turning from the pods to the bodies atop the tank.
Screw stooped to pick up a spanner, tucking it in between the folds of armour ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘I know where to start our search but first the ship needs to know what happened down here.’
The high pitch whine of a gun being charged sounded behind them, followed by Marlin’s smooth voice.
‘No need to be spreading dissension among the good people, Screw.’ He was stood in the hole where the door had been, gun levelled at them as a troop of guards flowed around him into the room.
The young soldiers formed a rough circle about them and Screw stiffened as Marlin strode into the middle.
‘You don’t need to do this,’ Harl said. He could see something in the man’s eye that told him he had changed.
Marlin laughed. ‘Unfortunately I do,’ he said, ‘in fact it was your idea in the first place, Harl. You were an inspiration when I needed it the most. You said to take risks and when the water was gone I sought other ways to help my people. You were the one who told me to do this. “A leader has to be strong enough to make the decisions that others can’t,” is what you said. I did that. I faced the Hoarders and saw the threat they posed. They were parasites feeding on us and draining our life away. They had to go and I was strong enough to do it. And now you turn on me? You should be welcoming me as a brother. I’ve kept your precious family alive and what have you done? Nothing. You’ve just returned with wild stories and plans that make no sense.’