“Okay, but I am sure I am going to hate this,” Paul grumbled as he floated after Gretchen. They gathered their backpacks, equipment belts, and checked their weapons. Having the gear they needed, they then went to the door.
Brinley placed the gig exactly where it needed to be in the hanger bay. She activated the controls to extend the stub and it smoothly went out. It sealed around the pressure door with a shuddering and a clicking sound.
“You have about four minutes to disembark,” Brinley said. “I will need to move the gig after that to avoid the path of the wrecked shuttle. We got lucky, the pressure door responded to a remote command and it is open.”
“Thank you Brinley,” Gretchen said as she touched the buttons on the automacubes. Paul activated the gig’s door and they moved out of the gig and through the stub. The pressure door of the hanger bay was open. Just as the first automacube reached that pressure door threshold the gravity manipulation field dropped it to the deck. It rolled off on its six drive wheels.
“I am here,” Paul said as he slipped from zero gravity to the full feel of gravity as he too passed that threshold. “The air smells in here, but there is power and light.”
Gretchen pressed some buttons on the back of the other automacube. It then connected up to the trailers which they had used with the other supplies. The second automacube, pulling both trailers, then passed into the hallway and was followed by Gretchen who shut and secured the pressure door. She lifted the multiceiver and thumbed for Brinley. “We are inside and the pressure door is sealed. Looks like this was a secondary entrance for the hanger bay. No controls or observation decks.”
“I will retract the stub and wait for your return. I will just keep the gig safe and dodge the junk in the bay until you get back.” Brinley’s bright and smiling face shone on the screen.
Gretchen returned her smile and then turned to Paul. Her big brown eyes were excited as she brushed some of her dark frizzy hair out of her face. “Our objective, the Reproduction and Fabrication facility is on this level, and should be easy to find. The automacubes will follow us, pulling those trailers. We may need those for the cocoons we are acquiring. I set the automacubes using this location as home, and they will do mapping so they can return here with the equipment. I imagine that hauling the suspended animation cocoons here will take them several trips. While they are doing that, we will find Tiffany’s ALP.”
“Tiffany set the location on the multiceivers,” Paul confirmed. “But what is between those places and where we are now?”
“We will find out,” Gretchen said and started off down the corridor.
The walls were a light greenish color with a thick dark blue stripe running horizontally. Doors were set in the walls. There was a large plaque with a picture of three uplifted spears on in. The spears were white, red, and green colored. At the bottom of the plaque was an inscription, ‘Hastas Nobiles’ and ‘только копья почетным’ which both Paul and Gretchen understood.
“Yes, this is Safari alright. And I have my dishonorable weapon.” Paul patted the holster on his belt. “I wonder? Even with that toxic stuff on them, how well did their spears do when the Jellies invaded?” Paul asked sarcastically. “Are there any survivors here to meet us?”
“There were two survivors who made it to Larissa,” Gretchen reminded him. “Perhaps the Artemis will be here somewhere and we can rescue some of these hunters as well?”
“We only have room for a total of twenty people. There are six of those children, they must come, and the six known survivors, so eight more people is all. Eight out of thousands!” Paul answered. “Where is The Artemis? Or Jodie? Or Tennard? How many others are just missing?”
“Paul, it has been very bad, but we need to stay focused on this mission,” Gretchen reminded him.
The overhead lighting was intact and fully functional which gave the whole corridor a brighter than usual feeling. At the first junction, there was a cross passage. There were also signs indicating what was located in different directions. The hall they were using had white lettering in the middle of the blue stripe. It pointed and read ‘Hanger Bay D2991’. The other hallway was labeled as ‘Researcher Quarters’ and the third was ‘Solar Mimicry’.
“That is our way. The Reproduction and Fabrication facilities have all been near the sky tubes, and this one will be there as well.” Gretchen patted Paul on the shoulder and they walked onward, the two automacubes rolling along with them.
A bulkhead door impeded their progress a ways further along. There had been side doors, all closed, which they ignored as they made for their goal.
Gretchen reached out and tapped an override code into the color pad control next to the door. There was a negative function sound.
“Try the green, green, green. Brinley said that one was a general command,” Paul suggested.
Gretchen tried that next sequence, but still there was no opening of the door.
“Back to the old ways,” Paul said. “I will cut us a way inside. Unless you know a different route?”
“The deck plans do show some alternatives, but they are way out of the way. With Brinley jockeying that gig around the floating junk, we need to make this as fast as possible. Cut it open!”
“Even if there is vacuum or toxins on the other side?” Paul asked.
“Do we have a way to test for that? Tiffany, can you tell us what is beyond this door?”
From the multiceiver Tiffany answered. “No. I am lacking in any kind of probe, or other mechanism. The multiceiver is quite limited compared to my prior abilities. There are no adequate sensor devises on the yellow automacubes. I am sorry I am not more help.”
“I hate this so much, but what can we do?” Paul looked down the corridor, but there was not a safe place, and he just did not really care so much anymore. “Here goes.”
Paul connected a molecular torch to the fusion pack and set it for a deep cut. He severed off the hinges which were on that side of the door. They fell to the deck with a sizzling plop which rang out louder than he expected. The echoes of those droppings reverberated down the corridor. The locking mechanism kept the door from opening, despite Paul yanking on it. So Paul altered the molecular torch and cut into the gaskets along the seams of the door. A few moments later he had circumcised the entire perimeter of the door and made a slit about two centimeters wide for the entire way. Still the door would not pull open. Paul set the cutting blade for a deeper scoring into the gasket. After again following the perimeter and this time cleaving as deeply as possible, he could hear items falling as muffled clangs and clacks from the other side of the door. When he had finished making his way all around the line of cutting, he heard a pop.
“Well it did not explode or decompress. Now we just open this and continue,” Paul said as she stepped back and kicked the door. It fell with a crash on the other side.
Paul replaced the fusion pack and the molecular saw, and was about to step through. Then he hesitated. He moved back and gestured for the lead yellow automacube to proceed. It rolled ahead and passed the newly severed door. Paul stepped after it.
There was a small stream of water rushing on the floor. It was very cold. It was coming from a broken pipe which had run vertically up the side of the bulkhead door. The molecular torch had sliced into that as well. The water was flowing down across the floor and draining into an air vent.
“At least it was not some volatile substance you cut into,” Gretchen said. “Water is not so bad.”
“It is not brown toxic water, and I am surprised,” Paul answered. “Back in Dome 17, did you ever think you would see water just freely flowing like this?”
“No. It is still amazing to me,” Gretchen answered.
“And it will all be gone if our plan works. Gone like Oasis, and Inaccessible Island. Gone like everything else. Dome 17 is gone, and now this whole colony ship is in its last days.”
“But we are not,” Gretchen said and gave Paul a hug.
The newly ex
posed corridor was not well lit, but rather was lit by red emergency lighting. An ESRC was across from where the door had been opened. It had two of the red lights shining down at angles from above it.
“It looks like this section of the deck has suffered a lot more damage than where we just came from,” Gretchen said. She pointed at the wall which was dull white colored without the thick blue stripe. There was a barely legible label which pointed the way, ‘Solar Mimicry’.
The two automacubes and the two people passed through and began walking along. Gretchen commented, “That blue stripe, that was different on the walls in that first section. That bulkhead door was hard to cut open and on this side the conditions are worse. Was that first section a Free Ranger safe zone?”
Paul laughed a mirthless chuckle. “How safe was it? That hanger bay is a huge mess. Nowhere is safe on the Vanguard.”
None of the doors they walked by were open, and they did not inspect any of them. Soon they were approaching a set of stainless steel doors which had large lettering over them. The lettering read, ‘cолнце дает жизнь’ and ‘sole autem vivificat’ and was engraved into the permalloy.
“The sun is life. That does sound like we have found the sky tube,” Gretchen said.
“Sure, the sun gives life. Worked out so well on Earth and here on the Vanguard,” Paul said with a sad frown. “Just dead hopes on a dying ship.”
The nine section color pad next to the doors was illuminated in a weak glow. Gretchen entered a sequence for an override code. The doors slid apart and retracted into their pockets in the wall.
“The monkey has a pony!” A stentorian voice cried out as something rushed forward and pummeled Gretchen to the side. It then seized Paul by his arm and wheeled him about. “The monkey has a pony!”
Paul was off balance and tried to remain on his feet as the Roe yanked and tugged at his arm. He was having great difficulty as the Roe was very strong and its fingernails were cutting into his flesh. He danced along as he was pulled, but could not do much more than stay upright.
Gretchen rolled over and drew out her pistol.
The Roe had once been a man. A very tall man. It was bald-headed but had a vandyke style mustache and beard. Dried blood and other caked, slobbery junk was stuck in the facial hair. Its glaring orange eyes were like fire set into their sockets. It pulled Paul close to itself and its foul breath and spittle covered his face. Its grip on his arm tightened as it yelled right into his face. “The monkey has a pony!”
Paul punched with his free arm and smacked the Roe in the abdomen. There was no effect from his blow. The Roe twisted around and dragged Paul sideways while its free arm beat down upon his back. Fortunately the backpack deflected most of the impact, but the Roe continued to pull at him and lurch from side to side.
“I cannot get a shot!” Gretchen yelled as she regained her feet and aimed at the Roe who was wrestling Paul from side to side. It was holding his arm upward as it wrenched him around and beat him with its other arm.
Paul brought his foot up and stomped down, raking the Roe’s leg and breaking bones in its bare foot. It staggered just a little and continued to beat on Paul while straining his arm about.
Paul threw his head back as the Roe turned him, and the back of Paul’s head cracked into the mouth and nose of the thing. “The monkey has…”
The Roe’s words were cut off as its teeth shattered on Paul’s head. Paul repeated the rear head butt and felt the Roe’s nose crunch. That was when the grip loosened and Paul pulled free.
Piff. Piff. Piff.
Gretchen fired the pistol. The high velocity pellets struck the Roe squarely in its chest and knocked it backward and into the room from where it had originated. Paul raced after it.
The promenade in front of the sky tube control section was better lit than the hallway. Paul glanced down, half expecting to see clear permalloy, but the floor there was dark gray colored. The railing around the enormous machinery was intact at this location and the chairs around the counter were still in place. Across the way was the open doors of an elevator. The blue hand symbol next to it flashed in an irregular manner.
“The monkey…has…a… pony!” The Roe yelled as it staggered about. Blood was coming from its mouth and nose. Large holes were in its back from the exit wounds of the pellets. Blood flowed freely from them, yet the thing continued to stumble about. It swung its fists at Paul as he charged it.
Paul struck it with both his hands and shoved its chest. Although much taller than Paul, the Roe stumbled backward, but did not fall. Paul ran up to it again, and this time had to block a weak swing of the Roe’s fist. He again shoved the Roe hard in its wounded chest.
“Back away! I will shoot it again!” Gretchen yelled.
Paul either ignored her or did not hear her. He pressed his shoving attack against the Roe. Smacking its chest over and over and shoving it backward. In its weakened state it lacked the energy to resist, its arms just flailed uselessly about. Paul shoved again and it was up against the rails which ran along in front of the solar mimicry machinery.
“The… monkey…” the Roe jabbered as it still tried to punch at Paul who easily avoided its now feeble attacks.
“Has a pony!” Paul finished for it as he banged both hand into the Roe and shoved as hard as he could.
The Roe toppled over the rail and fell down into the machinery. Paul looked over and saw the body strike a projection of a large pipe, and then slide off that and fall among the other ducts, conduits, pipes, and apparatus.
Gretchen rushed up and stood next to Paul as he looked down. “The tagalongs will rush to feed on it down there. Good job Paul!”
Paul collapsed to the floor. He was bleeding profusely from the injuries on the back of his head.
“Oh Paul. That Roe’s teeth ripped up your head,” Gretchen said as she dug the medical kit out of her backpack. She connected the wires around to the sides of the injury. The blood was coagulating in Paul’s white-blonde hair. Gretchen activated the medical kit. She skipped the diagnostic display and went directly to treatment. ‘Apply to injury’ read in the screen as a pale blue gel was pressed out the side of the medical kit. Gretchen slathered it on the injury. The blood sealed over and the bleeding was stanched. ‘Inject into any large muscle group’ the display read as a syringe also came from the medical kit. Gretchen injected that into Paul’s shoulder.
Paul felt renewed strength. His head was still sticky and sore, but the pain was less. His arm also felt relieve from those injuries.
“We need to get that equipment,” Gretchen said. “Are you up to standing?”
“I really hate the Roe, but yes, I can stand. We are in this together.” Paul dug a food ration bar from his pack and ate it quickly.
As Paul stood up he could hear crunching, squealing, and cracking noises coming up from where the Roe had fallen. He licked the last bit of crumbs from the food ration off his lips. Neither he nor Gretchen looked over the rail again. They had seen tagalongs feed too many times already. Instead they walked over and made sure the two automacubes followed them the short distance into the Reproduction and Fabrication facility.
The doors were already open, and yet Paul drew out his pistol, as they entered.
“Welcome to the Reproduction and Fabrication facility,” a mechanical voice said. The voice emanated from the center of the large conveyor belt construction complex which took up the majority of the room. To the right side there were a line of rectangular objects vertically standing in an orderly manner against the wall. “I am TSI-1008RF how may I be of assistance to you?”
“We have placed an order, Tiffany set it up,” Gretchen answered.
“Oh yes, that was a very substantial order and involved unique designs and constructions. It was a pleasure to assist in that endeavor,” the AI replied. “It has been very quiet and lonely here. Do you have any news about the temporary inhibitions of the lattice?”
“Nothing new to report,” Gretchen replied. “Are thes
e the twenty suspended animation cocoons? They look like the right things.”
“Indeed they are. My servomechanisms have been able to stack them there awaiting your pickup. They are too large and of an inappropriate shape for sending through the gravity conduits. Additionally the admixture headboards for them are to your left,” the AI reported. “I attempted to summon additional assistance from Machine Maintenance, but received no reply. However, I see that action was in vain. You have brought your own transportation automacubes. Is your destination established? If so I can instruct the automacubes on where to transport these items. Or Tiffany can give me directions, or perhaps I can assist in some other manner?”
Gretchen was squatting down near the lead yellow automacube. She pressed several buttons on its small display screen. She then repeated that process with the second automacube. “I have set them to move the cocoons. It will take them maybe five trips to get all twenty to the hanger bay.”
The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle Page 189