Spinebreakers

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Spinebreakers Page 15

by Mitch Michaelson


  Steo had let them all down.

  The generation ship had been honed as a weapon and set loose upon the galaxy. Killing the man who lit the fuse didn’t accomplish anything. Many people, possibly hundreds of thousands, had already been killed. A station taken apart, a city bombarded. Another solar system was in the storm’s path.

  The AndroVault was more than a weapon now. It was a movement, a cause. With millions of people it was a war machine that could take resources by force and grow. It could devour everything in its way.

  Steo was responsible for not taking enough action to stop it. He had spoken to their leader Muuk. He had pleaded with him to change course. Obviously he hadn’t swayed Muuk a bit. Steo hadn’t been enough. The fault was in himself.

  More damning, Steo had many opportunities to simply end the threat once and for all: they could have stopped the generation ship with a single missile. The AndroVault was a vulnerable target. He had refused to fire on it, thinking somehow he knew best. He thought he could perform a ‘surgical strike’ and be in and out, just like every gearjacking job before. Despair sat on his shoulders like a crushing weight.

  This wasn’t just an unfortunate development. It was a catastrophe. A cataclysm of death and destruction approached the Veert Commonality. Steo had a chance to stop it but didn’t. He stared abject failure in the face. Slaught had won. The mercenary had defeated the pitiful crew of misfits. Slaught got what he wanted: a galactic war.

  Steo saw that the ship was in the atmosphere so he got up and pulled on his circuit-pattern shirt. He located his gadgets and stuffed them in his bag.

  He said to Governor, “You’ll find someone to care for.”

  In the bridge, Hawking came back online but wasn’t capable of speech yet. Renosha was still down.

  The ship hovered over a swamp. The sky was full of smoke and ash.

  “Cyrus? What’s the matter?” Glaikis said.

  “Did anyone check on Steo?”

  “No, but he’s with Governor,” she said. “Oooh.” She realized the EMP would have knocked out Governor too. Internal scans showed Steo wasn’t on board.

  They left Hawking and Renosha and went down to the crew quarters. Yuina led the way. Steo wasn’t in his cabin. They searched for clues where he might have gone.

  “Do you think he died or something?” Yuina looked distraught, like she’d lost something.

  “How could his body disappear?” Cyrus was more baffled than worried.

  “No alarms went off. Our sensors were recording activity near the ship,” Glaikis said.

  They tried to activate Governor. Nobody knew Steo better than the robot.

  “Where did Yuina go?” Glaikis said.

  They left Steo’s cabin and found her in the holobridge, frantically moving images around until she found a topographical map of Insolent Stray. “How do these things work?” She fumbled with icons.

  From the bridge Hawking’s voice said, “What are you looking for Pilot Yuina?”

  “Tracking apps, something to scan for him!” she said with a hint of hysteria.

  Hawking said, “If Steo doesn’t want to be found, he can become nearly invisible.”

  Glaikis tried to calm her down. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

  Yuina brought up maps and scanners with agitated hands.

  “He can’t leave us,” the tirrian muttered.

  CHAPTER 28

  Tumblewell on Insolent Stray

  The debris from the Fire Scorpion spread in all directions. Amidst the twisted sheets of armor and hunks of equipment hid a single escape pod.

  A common space saying was, “A minute in an escape pod is the most dangerous minute of a man’s life.” During that time the little shuttle could be caught in an explosion, hit by debris or shot to bits by an enemy ship.

  The four people packed into the tiny pod held their breath as the battle receded behind them. Eventually they relaxed.

  “All right, here’s what we’re going to do,” gurgled the kalam.

  The three human men looked at each other, then back to him. “We haven’t decided who’s going to be the boss yet,” one said.

  The alien was armed, but so were the crewmen. They weren’t cyberenhanced mercenaries, but they were still dangerous. Pesht eyed them and considered his options. He fingered his fusion pistol.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. You were an officer on the Scorpion. Then you claimed the captain’s chair. Now the ship is blown up.”

  “You were taking charge.”

  “Look back there. You didn’t make the grade.”

  “What are you saying?” Pesht said. “I have more experience than all three of you combined. I’m most qualified to be leader.”

  “You’re a mercenary, aren’t you? Not a plain soldier.”

  “Oh yeah, you are. That’s right. You want to be leader? Why don’t you do what your kind does when accepting failure. Take responsibility.”

  Pesht was in close quarters with three large soldiers. He needed to establish his superiority.

  “I have the Torment Bundle. You want me to trigger it to take credit for that? Would that wipe the slate clean?” Pesht said.

  They looked at each other and agreed. “Yeah, that would. Then you can tell us what to do.”

  Pesht had done it once before so he knew what it would be like. He calculated his options. Then he triggered the bundle of nerves at the base of his brain. The kalam fell to the floor, thrashing in agonizing pain, all six limbs curling up.

  “Quick! Grab him!”

  Two of them took the little alien and tossed him in the airlock. The third waited for the door to seal, then shot Pesht into cold-space. Rapid twitches ate up his oxygen.

  “We’ll sit in the pod for a couple days to avoid being noticed.”

  “Right. Then we’ll land on the planet once everything’s calmed down.”

  “At least we won’t feel that whip anymore.”

  Pesht died in unknowing misery, betrayed by his own men.

  Glaikis said, “Based on all the signals flying around, can I get an overview of what happened, Hawking?”

  “Yes, Navigator Glaikis. The planet Insolent Stray is a pirate base, its only real city being Tumblewell, a large city of ramshackle buildings, grimy slums and the occasional lavish mansion. When Admiral Slaught’s fleet appeared, it immediately attacked. They first cleared local space of ships, then shot down communications satellites and atmospheric fighters. They captured the space station Gasseon.

  Most of the admiral’s fleet was equipped for space battles. Those armed with guns and atmospheric missiles bombarded Tumblewell from orbit. Much of the destruction was random. A large conventional explosive was used on a compound, destroying almost a square mile of buildings. Organized resistance was minimal. Many fled.”

  “What did they take?” Glaikis asked.

  “Following the orbit, shuttles were sent down with armed troops. They seized general stores like food and water. They moved compressed-gas freighters from the supply dumps up to Gasseon to refresh the fleet. Tumblewell is low on nitrogen stores now.

  Weaponry and ammunition plants were assaulted in force. The squads also took technology and raw materials for the fleet. They undertook a daring raid on the sole nuclear facility, stealing fuel and fissile material. The reactor is empty and cold now. Tumblewell’s energy production is low.”

  “What was the damage?” Cyrus asked.

  “To the inhabitants, surprisingly low. If Tumblewell had been the target of knight-mercenaries, there would be nothing left. If pirates had raided, they wouldn’t have sown so much wanton destruction. Of the million or so residents of the city, deaths and injuries measure in the thousands. However the lawless nature of the city makes it difficult to tell. The city is recovering. Rivals have taken the opportunity to attack one another. Looting was to be expected. The fires have been extinguished. Tumblewell is as chaotic as ever.”

  “There’s no way Steo knew somebody way out here,” Cy
rus said.

  “Yeah, he said even Slank had limited contacts this far out in the Percaic spiral arm,” Yuina said.

  Glaikis wondered, “Where would he go? He wouldn’t want to stay here, would he?”

  Cyrus said, “If he left us, then I don’t think he wants to settle down here.”

  “Yuina, help me with Renosha. Cyrus, can you go down and see if Governor is restarted yet?” Glaikis said.

  Soon they regathered at a table in the holobridge.

  “Governor has a long startup process with all those medical apps he loaded. Did you find out how Steo left?” Cyrus asked.

  “Glider number four is missing,” Yuina said. She bounced her leg nervously.

  “The robots won’t be able to predict where he went, so let’s work this out,” Glaikis said.

  “He wouldn’t go out into the wilderness. He would go toward people,” Cyrus said.

  “On the other hand, he seems to be in the mood to avoid people,” Yuina said. “He’s running. I’ve run before.”

  Glaikis leaned forward. “That’s a good point. What else?”

  “Steo has resources and skills. He’d use them. If his goal is to get off this backward mudball, he’d look for a ship. I would just rent a seat and go. His credits are still good out here.”

  “Wait a minute. He’s a wanted man. Hawking! Have they heard of Steorathan Liet here?” Glaikis said.

  “Indeed they have. The bounty is still news. Even his DNA sequence is known. Admiral Slaught did a thorough job of character assassination.”

  “It sounds like we’re getting somewhere,” Cyrus said.

  “Uh oh,” Yuina said. “Hawking, what else was in that bounty?”

  “The bounty is on both the Eye of Orion and Steorathan Liet.”

  “Then we need to keep the ship low-profile too, and leave soon.”

  Glaikis said, “Okay. Steo would go to that city … Tumblewell. He’ll have to find a way off the planet that doesn’t reveal his identity. There’s nobody he can trust out here, in a pirate base. I think I know what he would do.”

  “What a gearjacker would do: steal a ship!” Yuina said.

  “I don’t know about that. In these conditions? I would think every ship that could take off has,” Cyrus said. “What do you think, Glaikis?”

  “I think he’d try to fix up a ship. It only needs to fly.”

  Steo kept his hood up and his breathing mask on. It obscured his features but that wasn’t why he wore it. Insolent Stray’s atmosphere was thin and mildly acidic, so his eyes stung if he took off his mask. The environment was survivable but irritating.

  He was deeply unhappy about the turn of events. His stomach was twisted in a knot. The only way he could shake off the pervasive feeling of inadequacy was to take action. He was dead-set on leaving, though he didn’t know where he was headed.

  Smoke still rose from the city. Tumblewell was a confusing jumble of shacks only made worse by the orbital bombardment. Steo steered his glider clear of the city. He rode around it to a repair depot. It looked like it had been assaulted. The main gate was mangled.

  Besides piles of hardware, there were entire ships here. The caustic rain had rusted through most. Even those that weren’t orange were dull from weathering.

  As he entered the depot, he noticed movement behind some equipment. He slowed down. Then he heard a voice, “Hey! I got you covered! Stop there!”

  Steo stopped as ordered. “The attack is over. I’m looking to buy something. Do you have any ships that can fly? Faster-than-light?” His voice was a little muffled by the mask.

  A man came out with a long-barreled laser. He was young and had adapted to the environment. Over his clothes he wore a layer of clear material that protected him from the rain. His gloves and shoes were also made for the acrid environment. He lowered the laser, and walked over to Steo.

  “I got what you need, but I need credits. Not trade, not barter. I don’t need Vupurian chickens. I need credits!”

  “I can pay.”

  “Then come on. The ships wouldn’t be here if they were totally useless. The raid set me back on parts. Some of the ships were hit, two fell over. I got one that could be whipped into shape in a day or two, though. I’m Namgup.”

  Steo followed Namgup through the yard. They stopped at a tall, dull, blue and gray ship. It stood on its own next to a tower of girders. The sides were scarred with black streaks, and some armor plates had been reattached.

  “You know what a twist-ship is?” Namgup asked.

  Steo got down off his glider. It looked like a plain freighter with the telltale big belly.

  Before he could venture a guess, Namgup said, “This is the Bitter Widow. Call it whatever you want if you got the credits. A twist-ship looks like a freighter but it’s an ambush ship. They’re normally heavily armed. When a pirate approaches it, the twist-ship limps along and acts weak. Then when the pirate gets close enough to board, the twist-ship opens fire.”

  “It looks like this one lost its last fight,” Steo said.

  “Tumblewell brings them all down,” Namgup said. “The Bitter Widow has a functioning tachyon subengine, but the main graviton engine is busted. It can gather gravitons but the e-cores can’t hold much energy and the controls are cracked, so you’d burn up just trying to get out of atmosphere. I said it has weapons, but they’re old. Besides, there’s no ammo, so you’d have to buy that in the city.” Namgup looked Steo up and down. “Though maybe you aren’t the type who’s cut out for the city.”

  “I parked the ship in a safe place,” Yuina said. “Can we get going?”

  “Where are we?” Glaikis said.

  “In a crater.”

  “Why a crater?” said Hawking.

  “It’s not because I thought the odds of a second missile hitting was less inside a crater. It’s because it gets us below the horizon so we’re harder to detect.”

  “Excellent decision,” the robot replied.

  “The ship is set up. Are we ready to go?”

  “We?” Glaikis said.

  “I’m going with you.” Yuina had a look that meant business.

  Cyrus said, “Governor is almost restarted. Renosha is on, but I can’t see any diagnostics to know what’s going on inside him. Hawking can manage the ship.”

  They collected masks and gliders.

  Inside his mask, Cyrus said, “Do we know where we’re going?”

  Glaikis looked at Yuina.

  “I do.”

  After a deposit, Namgup gave Steo the control codes for the Bitter Widow and left. Steo rode up on his glider, opened a small door and stepped inside. Tiny lights hardly illuminated the empty passages. It smelled dusty. He didn’t even get the positive vibe of a fresh start. Somebody’s dreams had died with this ship.

  The Bitter Widow didn’t compare to the Eye of Orion. The old ship was worn and broken. There was nothing shiny or interesting about it. The best he could do was repair it so that it got from point A to point B.

  The first thing to do was repair the graviton controls. The tower next to it held the ship steady. He found that there was a lot of internal damage, though the holes had been patched. He worked his way to the aft and found the engineering compartment. It was cramped, with dangling wires and cracked consoles. One wire looked like it was held together with glue.

  He set his tools down, stepped over junk on the floor and found a panel. It didn’t turn on. He switched on his lee and looked for a signal. There were a few weak ones in the junkyard, but none inside the ship. He put away his lee and immediately missed his ship. This wasn’t his, but it was all he had.

  Working his way back into the compartment, he found a hole that led down to the guts of the engines. The e-cores were down there. It wasn’t a smooth tube with handholds, more a space confined by metal spars. Steo took his tools and inched his way down into the hole. Fortunately he was skinny and could fit between the spars. In a way, it felt comforting, like he had a little bit of purpose again. He didn’t m
ind how long it would take to fix, though he knew he couldn’t linger on the planet.

  As they flew over the ground in their bubble-shaped gliders, Glaikis and Cyrus heard Yuina’s voice say in their earpieces, “When he left, he disabled the ship’s security so that told me what time it was. He took a glider so I calculated how far he could have traveled.”

  “That’s a big circle,” Cyrus said.

  “Glaikis said he would go toward the city but wouldn’t go into it. That narrows it. I searched his quarters and the rest of the ship. He took more than his personal gear. If he was planning on buying his way off the planet he would travel light.”

  “What else did he take?” Glaikis asked.

  “Tools.”

  They flew over the ground at the gliders’ top speed. The sun was setting and they didn’t know much about the terrain so they wanted to get there quickly.

  Yuina led the way north. They passed collapsed structures and burned-out vehicles. The outer limits of the city were a dumping ground. Soon they came in sight of an area surrounded by a thick concrete wall. The gates were bent and useless. The three of them entered and pulled into a flat muddy area. The extensive yard was big enough to hold piles of gear as well as complete starship bodies.

  A man stood up on top of a mound of metal. He wore a clear coat over his clothes and had a long laser rifle. “I don’t have anything for you! We got raided. Go somewhere else!”

  Yuina glared at the man. She lifted her mask. “Look, human. I’m in no mood for an adventure. I’m looking for someone and you’re going to tell me where he is. Now!” She glared at him and pulled a rod from her holster.

  The man pressed a button on his wrist. A heap of metal shifted. The rusty machine stood on three legs. It pointed what looked like two arms at them.

  In her mask Glaikis said, “Slow down. War robot. Those are probably fission guns it’s aiming at us.”

  Cyrus shifted his glider forward. He took off his mask and squinted up at the man. “Stop,” he said assertively. “I understand, this yard is your property. I understand a man wants to protect his property. In fact, I’m looking for some of my own.”

 

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