The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle

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The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle Page 52

by John Thornton


  A very large and very muscular Free Ranger stepped out from a small side office. “Glad to help Trade Master Beatriz. I will take her to the show at the auditorium.”

  “No, please! My momma is infected and needs to be saved,” Zoya cried as Arancaya firmly pushed her out of the door and into the hallway.

  “Come along. I will take you to the minstrels. You can stop your game now.” His firmly pressed grip on her shoulders told her more than his mere words. She knew he would never listen.

  She walked along with the big man. They came to an elevator. He placed his hand on the hand shaped symbol, and the doors slid open. The elevator descended and when the doors opened, before them was a large auditorium.

  “Here you go. No more lies and stories to officials. We are far too busy for childish nonsense. You are too old for such playtime.” He pushed her out toward the crowd of people in the auditorium.

  The door of the elevator slid shut before Zoya could do anything or say anything else. Her anger at being ignored and accused of lying burned in her.

  The auditorium had seating for roughly a five hundred people, and had about half that many in attendance. The stage was covered by props and decorations. Some kind of performance was taking place.

  The smell of baked breads, meats, and vegetables wafted over to where Zoya was standing. She had not realized how hungry she was. She walked over to the stands along the perimeter of the auditorium and got into line. When her turn came she grabbed a platter and filled it with foods.

  Sitting down on one of the chairs, she slowly ate the food and considered what she would no next. She lackadaisically observed the play that was taking place. It was about Feegin the Thief. She already knew the story, but this version had singing and dancing as well as the morality tale.

  The last song for the play was sung, as Feegin was banished from the Free Rangers. In this case that meant he was dropped off the side of the stage into a prop that looked like a broken part of the Vanguard.

  The crowd laughed and then applauded. The children squealed in delight. To Zoya it all seemed to be surreal as she wondered where her mother was and what she should do next.

  A woman came up onto the stage. She had a beautiful voice, straight black hair which hung down to her chin. Her hair was slightly longer on the sides and in front than in the back. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the crowd. She exuded confidence and self-assurance. She was dressed in sweeping and shimmering robes. “Did you all enjoy Feegin the Thief?”

  “Yes!” the crowd roared back. Some of the children were laughing so hard they were rolling along the aisles; others were singing some of the songs from the show and dancing besides the chairs.

  Before Zoya realized what she was doing, she dropped the platter, and raced forward. She leaped up and onto the stage.

  “Will you help me find my momma?” She begged.

  “Oh my,” Jodie said with compassion. “You are rather old to have gotten lost in a crowd. What can I do to help?”

  “My momma got infected and became a Roe! I must save her!” Zoya pleaded in her loudest voice.

  The crowd became silent. The idea of a child losing a parent to the infection was not uncommon to many in the crowd. Some thought this might be a new addition to the show and so watched eagerly for what Jodie would do. Others were uncertain what the adolescent girl was doing.

  Jodie wrapped her arms around Zoya and said, “That is terrible. Come with me and we will talk about it.” Then turning to the crowd, Jodie said, “We will be taking a break for a few moments so I can assist this young woman in whatever her situation is about. Our juggling troop will be up next with some fine examples of hand-eye coordination. Grab some food and stay around!” She gave a final wave as she escorted Zoya off the stage behind the curtains.

  “So please tell me more about this,” Jodie said as they each took a seat in a partitioned off part of the stage. “What were you saying about your mother?”

  Zoya started to explain. She had only gotten a few sentences out when another woman walked between the curtains and joined them.

  Jodie looked and smiled. “I thought that was you in the audience. I know you like Feegin the Thief.”

  The woman had shoulder length, straight, light brown hair and large expressive hazel eyes. Her face was showing a wide toothy smile.

  “Yes, Jodie, I like your shows,” Brinley replied. “But I am more concerned now with this situation. May I help out?”

  Zoya looked at Brinley. “My momma became infected. I need to go and save her. But I doubt you will even believe me. No one else has.”

  “I am Brinley. I want to hear your account of what happened. I will listen to what you have to say. I know what it is like to not be believed.” Brinley pulled up another chair and sat down. The chair was backwards and she was straddling it and resting her forearms on the back. This was due to the tools which were on her belt.

  Zoya began again and this time started with the attack on the shuttle. Brinley’s ears perked up with that and she paid very close attention to what was said. Zoya reported a strange object attached to the hull, the crash, the chase, the fight, the conduit, and the time in the medical unit.

  Jodie did not look at Brinley but kept her eyes on Zoya. She then said, “Zoya, I believe you. I think we can help you.”

  “Yes, I believe you as well.”

  “You really believe me? But there is no way to help my momma is there? I mean, the Outbreak… and being a Roe….” Zoya broke down in tears. Relating the whole account had made her see how hopeless it all appeared.

  “I was once a Roe,” Brinley confided as she placed her hand gently on Zoya’s shoulder. “That is the truth, but few believe it.”

  “And I have seen a Roe healed,” Jodie added.

  “Please… can it really be healed? Is my momma lost forever? Should I have ‘saved one for myself’ or should I have ended it for her?”

  “There is hope. I will help you, and I know others who may help as well,” Brinley stated.

  Jodie interjected, “However, what you are asking is extremely difficult, I have to be honest with you. Few will believe it possible, and your mother is missing. Finding her may be the greatest challenge. I cannot leave my show, and besides, I am no tracker or adventurer, but there is an automacube that I think will be very interested in helping as well.”

  “Doctor 147?” Brinley asked.

  “Yes. I saw it a few days ago here in the medical unit when I first came to set up the show.” Jodie pulled out her minicomputer and sought a coupling. She adjusted the display screen and then said, “Doctor 147 has been summoned. I did not say why, but coming from me, I believe it will arrive soon.”

  Brinley pulled her hair back and revealed the communication link. “I will ask my friends if they will help.”

  Zoya was almost in shock at people actually helping her.

  Jodie looked at her minicomputer. “Doctor 147 is still in this safe zone. It says it will be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “Paulie?” Brinley said into the communication link.

  “Brinley?” Paul responded on the private channel. “I am glad to speak to you. We have a situation here.”

  “And I too have a situation,” Brinley replied. “May I explain mine? It involves a lost mother and the Roe.”

  “Let me hook Gretchen into the conversation.” Paul could tell by Brinley’s tone it was something serious. So while it was hard to resist telling Brinley about Klara’s claims, the possible map, and the threats, he listened instead.

  Brinley gave a concise and accurate account of Zoya’s experiences. When she was finished she asked, “Zoya, was that the general idea?”

  “Yes, I must save my momma.”

  “Brinley, did Paul explain our situation with Klara?” Gretchen asked.

  “Klara? The information maven? What is that about? What did she want?”

  Gretchen explained.

  “It infuriates me that Klara would threaten to help Larissa. Klara
is all about power and what is in it all for her. It seems there are more reasons to have Doctor 147 come back to your place with me,” Brinley stated grimly. “We have unfinished business on several issues, but helping this girl find her mother must be our priority. You both saved me, and now we need to save her.”

  “I agree,” Gretchen stated.

  “If we can find her,” Paul added. “Contacting Tiffany might help with that as well.”

  “You getting a good deal with Klara would be clumsy at best. She always works the angles to her favor, and would manipulate you in ways you would never see. We can see what she has to offer, but only after I get back to help you both,” Brinley replied. “Zoya, when that automacube arrives, we will head for the hanger bay and my shuttle. You are now officially a member of my crew. We are on a mission to save your mother.”

  8 flight risk

  Brinley and Zoya met Doctor 147 as it rolled out from an elevator near the hanger bays. The white automacube had been polished and was gleaming in cleanness.

  “Doctor 147, I am glad you have joined us,” Brinley stated.

  “Jodie summoned me, I am heading to see her right now,” the machine replied. “It is pleasant to see you. Thank you again for granting me free will.”

  “Jodie summoned you for us. This is Zoya, let me explain,” Brinley said and squatted down and quietly explained the situation.

  “I will access the medical records from Medicinal Aeronautics V45.” The white automacube rolled up to the wall and connected a cable into a port. “Records received from that artificial intelligence system show it is only operating at 27% of capacity. It has been restricted and segmented from the lattice for security reasons. I am reviewing the records.”

  “Will this automacube assist us? The AI in medical healed me, but called me delusional. I actually do know what happened to my momma!” Zoya said. “Will this automacube believe me?”

  “Records reviewed. Appropriate medical care was administered: however, premature diagnostics were done due to limited interaction and lack of essential background knowledge. I conjecture your reported account, Zoya, is more likely to be true than delusional; however, I cannot make a complete determination until field work is completed. I chose to align myself with your party to assist in seeking your mother.” Doctor 147 withdrew the cable and rotated around on its six drive wheels.

  “So you believe me?” Zoya said with growing hope.

  “I do not immediately assign your claims to delusions or hallucinations,” the automacube replied. “I believe there is reason to suspect your account is based on facts. The truth will need to be investigated. My understanding of the Outbreak, treatments, and potentials is still evolving.”

  “Paul and Gretchen have been approached with a possible map to the location of their scout ship. Doctor 147, what do you make of that?” Brinley inquired.

  “I am not a transport automacube, so I have no opinion on that issue.”

  “My shuttle should be ready to depart,” Brinley said and led them on to the shuttle bay.

  Brinley entered the Trade Master’s office. A few moments later she came back out.

  “Trade Master Beatriz reported that there have now been four shuttles which are unaccounted for from this hanger bay. She left the decision to us, but did warn that this is an unusually high number of shuttle incidents in a very short time. She did not ask any questions about my newest crew member. You are signed in as ‘Zoya my cargo hauler’ I hope that was acceptable to you?”

  “As long as we find my momma, you can call me a turtle if that helps.”

  Brinley laughed. “Our initial destination is set as Hanger Bay 219, outside of Oasis. I do not have a cargo yet. That was supposed to arrive in a few hours, but I made other arrangements. At Hanger Bay 219 we will meet Paul and Gretchen and decide our next steps.”

  They entered the hanger bay and approached Brinley’s small S14 shuttle. Zoya looked it over with care and saw that it was excellently maintained, even though it was small.

  “This is the same type shuttle we were flying when we crashed.”

  The hatch to the shuttle opened, and the automacube rolled in followed by Zoya and Brinley.

  “Brinley, from Zoya’s report I recommend that you two use spacesuits for this journey,” Doctor 147 stated.

  “I am already ahead of you,” Brinley replied. “I traded the cargo I was going to haul for four space suits. Trade Master Beatriz told me they are in high demand now, so it took the entire cargo. Some pilots are refusing to fly at all, and others are taking multiple precautions. No one seems to know what had caused the loss of the shuttles. Zoya, you seem to be the only one to have survived one of those attacks.”

  “My momma survived as well,” Zoya said firmly.

  “Yes, of course. Sorry,” Brinley replied.

  “Doctor 147, are you prepared for flight?” Brinley asked.

  “Affirmative,” the white automacube replied. “Secured and in place.”

  Two of the space suits were on the pilot seats of the shuttle; the other two were stored in the small cargo area. Brinley stripped down to her coveralls, and stored her tool belt and other equipment in containment netting. Zoya slipped on the spacesuit with ease. Before they put on the bubble helmets, Brinley connected a cable line to each of the suits. “This way we can speak to each other directly, even if we lose short range communication.”

  When all was in place, Brinley followed the protocol for departure of the hanger bay. The bay was depressurized, the door opened, and the gravity manipulation turned off. They then flew the shuttle out of the hanger and into the cosmic environment of space outside the Vanguard. The stars shone in a myriad of specks against the blackness.

  Brinley looked back, as the shuttle rotated, and everything appeared like a normal flight, except there was an uneasy sensation as the people standing on the observation deck waved to her. The hanger bay doors closed and Brinley adjusted the thrusters to fly her away from the Pampas Cylinder and toward Oasis.

  “Do you know the sequence of things to look for to follow the route from here?” Brinley asked.

  Zoya racked her mind. She had memorized many of the landmarks and routes, but she had concentrated on her home safe zone as the starting point. “I will just watch you and learn.”

  “Good enough. You said your shuttle was struck as your flew by the Wild’s Cylinder where the hanger bays were destroyed. We will not be near there so this flight should be without incident.”

  “Yes, we were flying from C Habitat, the Woods to the Wilds. I wanted to see the destruction. If it had not been for me….” Zoya began to cry.

  “It is not your fault. We do not know why the crash happened, or what struck your shuttle. It is not your fault,” Brinley emphasized. “We are going to look for your mother, and I have a feeling we may find out all about this incident. My friends Paulie and Gretchen have a way about them.”

  Zoya was unsure what more to say. She barely knew Brinley, and did not know anything about Paul and Gretchen beyond what little had been said. She considered asking to be taken back to her own safe zone, but then her mother would still be lost. At least these people seemed to offer some chance, and they did claim to be able to cure the Roe.

  “Speaking of Paul and Gretchen, it reminds me,” Brinley stated. “Tiffany?”

  “Who is Tiffany?” Zoya asked.

  “Tiffany is an AI that could really help us. Unfortunately we have lost contact.”

  “Of course you cannot contact an AI in a shuttle,” Zoya said. She knocked on the bubble helmet Brinley was wearing. “We have only short range communications, or have a cable link to speak to each other. How do you expect to contact an AI out here?”

  “We have a communication system that is unique. Did you wonder how Gretchen and Paul spoke to us before?” Brinley asked.

  “I did not think much about it, I guess. I am too worried about momma.”

  “Well, Tiffany is their AI and for a long time we were able to in
teract, but something happened. Paul and…” Brinley hesitated to share more of their history. She knew Zoya was already overwhelmed. “Suffice to say, they have some high quality tools we can use.”

  “Tiffany? Please respond,” Brinley tried.

  There was no response. They lapsed into silence for a bit. Both Zoya and Brinley were wrestling with their own thoughts and memories.

  Brinley pushed the thrusters to maximum. She did not want to spend any more time in a spacesuit than was necessary. She also kept the shuttle further away from the hull than she normally would have done. She hoped that that would give her a few extra moments if some catastrophe should happen.

  “We are over Oasis now, and approaching Hanger Bay 219.”

 

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