The Tarantula Nebula

by David Kantrowitz

  “Talvan’s been hit,” Fernwyn said.

  John looked at his own wound. He needed to stop the bleeding soon.

  “Ray,” he said, “get the field dressings.”

  Nodding in acknowledgment, Ray opened his first aid kit.

  “Is that all of them?” asked Fernwyn, wiping sweat from her brow.

  “I don’t know,” replied John. “Somehow I doubt it.”

  __________

  “Dana, this is John, over.”

  Dana sat up straight in the pilot’s chair, once again sharing a glance with Christie to confirm that she was awake. She reached for the commo controls and replied.

  “Go ahead, John.”

  “We’re back to the airlock.”

  “Roger that, we’re on our way.”

  Dana stood up and keyed the commo again.

  “Nathalier, meet us in the zero-g room. The team is back.”

  “Okay,” Nathalier’s voice replied.

  “They had me worried,” said Christie, joining Dana.

  “Finally we get a mission that doesn’t end in violence,” said Dana.

  The women exited the bridge. Nathalier was climbing the stairs from the cargo bay and met up with them.

  “How’s Fernwyn’s ship doing?” asked Christie.

  “I’ve finished the repairs,” replied Nathalier. “It wasn’t so bad.”

  “I don’t know if we’ve adequately expressed our gratitude to you, Nathalier. You lost your job and your ship because of us. We’re grateful for your help. Don’t ever think that we don’t appreciate your sacrifices for our mission.”

  “Thanks. It’s safe to say that it’s my mission now, too. I may just get the Raven back if we can defeat the Zendreen on Umber and clear our names with the SPF.”

  The three crew members entered the zero-g room. Dana stopped at the computer console. Christie also stopped to see what she was doing.

  “I finally got the computers to recognize the zero-g settings,” Dana said. “We can use the surround screen again if we want.”

  “Surround screen?” asked Nathalier, reaching the airlock door.

  “We can project a real-time image of the exterior of the ship onto the surfaces of this room. It makes you feel like you’re in space. It’s pretty cool.”

  “It sounds like you thought of a lot of ways to kill time,” said Nathalier, opening the airlock door.

  The person on the other side of the door was not John. Nathalier’s eyebrows raised as he saw himself looking down at a Kau’Rii, dressed in black. Nathalier’s brain sent a message to his muscles, but the Kau’Rii’s long knife slashed through his neck before they could respond. Dana and Christie watched in horror as Nathalier fell silently to the deck, a bright red fountain of blood following him down like a sanguine parachute. The Kau’Rii stepped past Nathalier and grinned at the women.

  “Are you armed?” whispered Dana.

  “No,” replied Christie, “but...”

  “Get ready to exit to the hall.”

  The Kau’Rii crouched, considering its prey with pleasurable anticipation. Dana slowly reached back for console. Christie assumed a fighting stance and stared at the Kau’Rii with ire.

  “Now!” said Dana, turning to the computer screen. Christie wheeled around and opened the door to the hallway. The Kau’Rii advanced at a walking pace, obviously enjoying the spectacle before it. Dana thrust her arm toward Christie, and as she grabbed it Dana deactivated the gravity in the room. The Kau’Rii’s expression changed to surprise as its body lifted off of the deck. Christie, anchored in the hall, pulled Dana out.

  “Go get a weapon,” said Christie.

  Dana nodded and ran to the stairs. The Kau’Rii was suspended in midair, but slowly floating toward the ceiling. Christie estimated she had ten seconds before the creature could rebound from there toward her.

  “Who are you?” she said.

  “Your last,” the Kau’Rii replied, resuming its grin.

  “What happened to my crew?”

  “Retired.”

  “You killed them?”

  “What does it matter?”

  Christie slammed the door shut, and realized with a hollow feeling that it didn’t have a lock. She pressed her weight against it and called out.

  “Dana, double-time it!”

  There was a loud thump against the door. The handle began to turn. Christie struggled against the force, but the Kau’Rii was much stronger than she. She braced her leg up against the jamb and used her knee to bolster the effort. It worked, temporarily. Soon the pain began to mount and Christie felt herself slipping.

  “God damn it, Dana, did you stop off for a snack or what?”

  Dana appeared from below, holding a M1A rifle.

  “Get out of the way,” she said, shouldering the weapon.

  Christie nodded, and dropped her leg. The door swung open, and she allowed herself to be pushed aside by it. The Kau’Rii stumbled into the hallway, quickly righted itself, and looked at Dana.

  “Bad kitty,” she said, and fired.

  Six rounds later the Kau’Rii was floating toward the rear of the zero-g room, but otherwise motionless. As it hit the rear bulkhead, Aldebaran and John appeared in the airlock corridor. Dana handed the rifle to Christie and stepped inside, holding onto the jamb until she could reactivate the gravity. The Kau’Rii fell to the deck next to Nathalier’s body. Aldebaran and John rushed inside, followed by Ray.

  “Are you two all right?” asked John, kneeling by Nathalier.

  “We’re okay,” said Dana. “Just half deaf.”

  “Nathalier is toast,” said Aldebaran.

  Fernwyn, Talvan, and Richter appeared in the corridor. John beckoned to Dana and Christie.

  “Get over here and help us get this equipment aboard,” he said. “We’re not waiting another second with these things running around!”

  “Nathalier!” yelled Fernwyn, dashing forward.

  “He’s had it,” said John. “I’m sorry.”

  “Let’s not let his death have been in vain,” said Talvan. “We still have a lot to do.”

  27.

  The zero-g room on the Reckless Faith was a scene of muted frenzy. The crew had hurriedly dragged the entirety of the lab equipment aboard, and a triage had been set up. Dana was the only one absent, having returned to the bridge to pilot the ship back into space. Christie, Ray and Aldebaran were running the triage, and had to force everyone but Talvan to sit down, shut up, and let them work.

  Talvan’s wound appeared to be the most serious, but it turned out to be superficial. Richter’s pinkie and ring finger on his left hand had been severed, a cut so neat that stopping the blood flow was proving to be difficult. John’s thigh was split open in a line about twelve inches long, but a tight dressing kept it from bleeding much. Fernwyn got off the easiest of those injured, suffering only minor cuts. She bound most of them herself.

  “You’re going to need stitches, Scherer,” Richter said, cradling his heavily-bandaged hand.

  “I’d ask you, but you’re short-fingered,” replied John.

  “I know how,” said Fernwyn. “It will take at least an hour, though.”

  “We should move to one of the bathrooms first. It’s getting messy in here.”

  Indeed, the zero-g room was becoming rather splashed in blood. John looked at the two corpses lying on the deck, one of a friend and the other of an assassin.

  “You’re all set,” said Aldebaran to Talvan, patting his dressing with assurance.

  “I don’t get it,” said John, standing up carefully. “How could they know we were coming here?”

  “Pirates make a lot of enemies. Don’t assume the Tenchiik were for us. Just because we thought they were a fairy-tale doesn’t mean they’re not quite well known in another part of the cloud.”

  “Yeah, but they thought we were all Umberians,” said Ray.

  “That one saw me and assumed we were all Umberians. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. They killed more
than one group of pirates down there. It looks to me like they got their assignment and decided to kill everyone else as a bonus. When we showed up, we were simply more targets to play with.”

  “I’m not so willing to dismiss this as coincidence,” said John. “We should consider the possibility that they were sent after us, and killed everyone else for fun while waiting for us. If that’s the case, they must have known that we’d be going to the enclave. The question is, did they think we were just going to hide out there because of you, Aldebaran, or did they know we were going after the lab equipment?”

  “I certainly hope the latter isn’t true,” said Talvan. “If the Zendreen know I’m trying to cultivate a virus, they may be working on countermeasures.”

  “Just how are you planning on implementing this virus, anyway?” asked Fernwyn.

  “It’s quite simple, really. Well, actually, it’s quite complicated. You see, it’s easy when you look at the whole picture, but the devil is in the details.”

  “No shit,” said John, grunting. “Look, everybody take an hour off and get yourselves cleaned up. Aldebaran, Ray, if you could move the equipment down to the cargo bay, I’d appreciate it. I’ve got to have this wound sutured. Talvan, you’re in charge of setting this stuff up.”

  “Fine.”

  “Christie, good job on medical. Please work on getting a meal together in the interim.”

  “No problem,” said Christie.

  Richter laughed. “So I’m the only one who actually gets an hour off?”

  “You’re assigned to light duty until you can use your hand again,” said John. “In fact, I may ask you to stay aboard for the next few days.”

  “My place is on the ground, Scherer. Once this bleeding stops, I’ll be able to apply a better dressing and start using my hand again. Maybe not at one hundred percent, but I’ll manage.”

  “You’re a tough bastard, Richter, but everyone has got to have a limit. Do me a favor and when the time comes, give me a zero-bullshit assessment of your capabilities. Fair?”

  “Fair.”

  “Good. Fernwyn, if you don’t mind...”

  Fernwyn grabbed a medical kit, and helped John to his feet. They took a hard look at the corpses before exiting the room.

  “Do you want to use your quarters?” asked Fernwyn.

  “Might as well. How are you holding up?”

  Fernwyn entered John’s passcode into the console by his door, and helped him inside.

  “I’m fine. I’m better than Nathalier.”

  “I don’t understand why they were standing around with the airlock door open.”

  Fernwyn helped John sit down in the bathroom, and removed what was left of his pants.

  “Maybe they knew we were about to return,” she said.

  “Yeah, but we didn’t call. I’ll have to ask the girls what they were thinking.”

  Fernwyn began to prep the wound for sewing. “Nathalier shouldn’t have died. It was pointless. I never should have asked him to help us.”

  “It was his choice, Fernwyn. And if he hadn’t come, we’d still be sitting on Residere Delta.”

  “Maybe you would. There was nothing wrong with my ship.”

  John grinned. “We could have held on to the wings. Ouch!”

  “Get used to the pain, John. It’s only going to get worse.”

  “I’m sorry about Nathalier, Fernwyn. I know he was your friend. He was also a member of this crew, whether he thought so or not. That’s three we’ve lost to this mission, and they all deserve our respect and gratitude.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “We need to bolster our courage now. Think about what we can accomplish here. The liberation of an entire planet.”

  “I haven’t forgotten the goal, John.”

  John nodded, and looked away. His head began to spin, and he realized he’d lost a considerable amount of blood. He eyed the needle Fernwyn produced with ire.

  “Mind if I pass out for this?”

  “You’d better not.”

  “Damn.”

  One hour later, John stepped out of his quarters. Fernwyn had finished stitching his cut ten minutes ago, and John had just finished cleaning up and putting on new clothes. It was time for a meeting in the conference room, and John gathered his strength before continuing down the hall. He had a bad feeling about the future in the back of his mind, and he began to focus on something positive to alleviate it.

  John thought about the members of his crew. They seemed to be holding up well, despite the constant chaos. Talvan was an exception to this. John worried that they might be asking too much of him. He’d lived under ten years of peace, even if it was also under servitude, and John knew how the mind dealt with change. Perhaps Umberians were heartier in that regard than humans, but John doubted it.

  Talvan’s age was also a concern to John. Aldebaran had mentioned that the professor was in his late fifties, which was early middle age for Umberians. John had found this information to be disconcerting, since Talvan looked older than that. The years had not been kind to him. John hoped that Talvan wouldn’t be needed on the ground for the next mission, both for his own safety and for his perceived limitations.

  John thought about Ray, Christie, and Dana. In many ways they bore little resemblance to the people they were the day before they left Earth. Ray had changed the least, but he was just a bit less affable than he’d been. He seemed more introspective, especially since he was shot. John still leaned on him for moral support, and was glad to see him standing strong despite everything that had happened.

  Christie had become a confident and capable adventurer, which was a large departure from her bearing before they’d said goodbye to Earth. She was every bit as sharp and eager as before, but now she complained about little and avoided no challenge. John recognized the change in her, as he had seen the same change in himself. She’d reached a point where her own welfare was second to that of the crew. Richter had mentioned it once as the difference between defined responsibility and implied responsibility. When you realize there’s much more to the latter, it can change your outlook on a mission.

  Dana was still a bit of a mystery to John. She’d been the most vocal critic of the choices and tactics that they’d employed in pursuit of success, but never failed to back them up once the mission had begun. Her skill with and understanding of the ship had become second to none; the absence of Ari had provided her an opportunity to become the expert thereof and she’d grasped it firmly. Even Christie had to defer to Dana’s knowledge of most of the ship’s systems. Her confidence was also increasing, and John wondered how long she’d be willing to limit herself to the ship in the future. She was missing out on a lot of amazing experiences, even if most of them resulted in combat. It was irrelevant for the next mission, however. No matter how it played out, she would be most needed aboard.

  John entered the conference room. Everyone else was already there. Richter and Aldebaran stood in the wings while the others sat at the conference table. Someone had brought the coffee decanter and a set of mugs, so John helped himself. Christie, Dana, and Talvan were in the middle of a conversation.

  “Using a device called a Superluminal Relativistic Compensator,” Talvan was saying, “anyone can detect and track ships moving in Superspace. Ships equipped with a SRC device can communicate normally with anyone in the rest of the universe. Before it was invented, it was impossible to track a ship in Superspace or for the ship itself to communicate with normal space. Such compensation requires an enormous amount of computational power, so as SRC technology has improved so has their efficiency and speed...”

  “Excuse me, Professor,” said John. “What’s our status, Dana?”

  “We’re in orbit around Distare as requested,” said Dana. “No ship-related problems to report.”

  “Good. Ray?”

  “Nathalier’s body is wrapped up and ready for the service,” said Ray. “The Tenchiik has already been jettisoned.”

  “Fine.
Richter, how’s your hand?”

  “Stable,” Richter replied. “I’ll have to change the dressing every few hours, but I have good use of the remaining fingers. Rylie tells me that if we ever repair our relationship with the SUF, I can get cybernetic replacements for cheap.”

  “That would be handy. Talvan, how’s your injury?”

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” Talvan replied.

  John sat down in the remaining chair. “Okay, then. Let’s talk about the next stage of the mission. Talvan, you’re the man in the spotlight.”

  “The first thing we need to do is culture and refine the virus. We’ve finished setting up the lab downstairs, so I can start right away. Once enough of the virus has been produced, we can return to Umber.”

  “How can you be sure the virus isn’t harmful to Umberians?” asked Fernwyn.

  “Because I’m infected with it.”

  “What?”

  “How else do you think I’ve been hiding it? All I have to do is take a blood sample from myself and I can isolate it. I think I can do all the work in less than twenty-four hours, now that I have good equipment.”

  “What about deployment?” asked Richter.

  “That’s the tricky part. The virus spreads by contact in Zendreen, but we have to initiate the infection via a liquid spray. We can infect any random Zendra, but the virus won’t spread through the entire occupation population that way.”

  “We could introduce the virus into the atmosphere,” said Christie. “Turn the Faith into a global crop duster.”

  “The virus won’t live long enough under those conditions. I have another idea. The commander of the occupying force and his general staff routinely inspect sites of major importance all over the planet. They keep to a regular schedule.”

  “How do you know this?” asked Dana.

  “I’ve had ten years to gather information. Even the Zendreen say too much when they get bored or sloppy. The liberation underground can’t do much else but gather information. The next place on the commander’s inspection list is the largest power plant on the northwestern continent. He’s due there in three days. If we can infect him and his general staff, they’ll spread the virus all over the planet. Within two to three weeks the majority of Zendreen will be infected, and a couple weeks after that the full effects of the virus will kick in. Then the Zendreen will be powerless to resist an uprising. Ideally, some of their space fleet will be infected, too, but even if not they’ll still be forced to withdraw from the Umberian system.”