by Alan Black
Tuttle bellowed “ooo-rah” and rushed into the corridor stopping in the gap Li’s team had widened after the drascos had passed. She swung her battle-axe one armed in a wide arc, slashing through flesh and metal alike. She was at the end of her arc when two Hyrocanians jumped at her. She didn’t have time to spin the axe back, so she used the end of the handle like a punch, driving the blunt end deep into the face of one of her attackers. Putting a boot in the middle of the second Hyrocanian’s chest, she shoved. The creature was pushed backward into a knot of goo left by Li’s passing. Swinging the axe around, she missed the four-armed freak with the bit edge of the blade, instead crushing its skull with the flat of the axe head.
Stone dropped to one knee, flicking off his rifle’s safety. He squeezed the trigger, emptying the clip along the corridor bulkhead. His TDO-960A wouldn’t hurt his drascos even if he shot them from point blank range. It didn’t have much punch-through power. It wouldn’t even put a scratch in marine armor, but its bullets tore chunks of flesh from unarmored bodies. So far, the only unarmored creatures in the corridor were Hyrocanian.
He stood, swapped magazines, and moved into the corridor. A bellow from unsuited humans washed over him and a dozen military personnel raced past him. The front line of their attack caught up with Tuttle and spread across the corridor, chopping and hacking at any Hyrocanian still moving. Many humans dropped their homemade weapons to collect guns dropped by the aliens.
Stone was startled when he caught sight of the edge of Agent Ryte’s camouflaged outfit. She had set the coveralls to completely disappear, yet he could still see the outline of her suit, just as he saw the edge of marine armor on gilley setting. She danced between two marines wielding knives in such quick slashing movements it looked like a wheat scythe. Moving quickly, she disappeared down the corridor following closely behind Li and his drascos.
He shouted, “Jay and Peebee. Do not get too far ahead of us.”
“Yes, Mama.” He wasn’t sure which drasco shouted. They halted their headlong rush at the junction of another corridor. He could see Jay and Peebee turn back into the corridor they had rushed through. They each impaled an alien and grabbing a second one, threw them at Li’s armored team, letting the marines apply the killing strokes. They began tossing bodies at the marines as if it was a game to see who could throw the most aliens the quickest.
A small knot of Hyrocanians stymied two marines in front of Stone. The two hacked away at them, but the aliens were fighting back with enough strength to slow down their advance. He jammed the muzzle of his rifle between two marines and blasted a Hyrocanian in the face, shifted aim and finished off two others. The female marine on the right took that moment to jab a bare hand into the throat of a four-armed freak in front of her. Her hand came back with a fist full of goop. She must have pulled out something important because the creature dropped to the deck. It wiggled and tried to grab at the marine’s ankles before Stone put a bullet into its tiny brain.
The male marine on the woman’s right suddenly dropped to the deck, a huge red stain spreading across his chest. Stone started to step into the gap, but a huge hand grabbed him by the back of the neck yanking him backwards. He looked back to see Allie pulling him away. He wanted to pull loose and step up to help the female marine, but Allie wouldn’t let him go.
Sergeant Janson’s armored bulk stepped over the dead marine. He jabbed a long spear through three Hyrocanians and slammed a heavy forearm against another’s skull. He grabbed the unsuited female marine who’d been in front of Stone and yanked her backward. An armored marine from Janson’s team stepped into the gap. Soon a line of six armored marines walked down the corridor, barely impeded by the unsuited Hyrocanian defenders. The aliens soon found themselves trapped between Janson’s team and Li with the drascos. They panicked and tried to run, but there was nowhere to go and they were soon dispatched with ease.
Allie glanced at Stone, her one eye glaring with an odd mixture of anger and concern. “Reload your rifle.”
Stone said, “I still have a couple of bullets left in this clip.”
“Screw a couple. Do a tactical reload. Your clips hold a hundred bullets. The next time you pull the trigger you may need a hundred, not a couple. It isn’t wasteful because if we get desperate enough later you can always go back to the couple.”
Stone made the switch. He grinned, “Just because you’re right this time, doesn’t mean you’re the boss of me.”
Allie snorted, “It’s nice you think that.” She pointed her handgun at an alien lying in the corridor. The creature had twitched, but rather than shoot, expending her limited supply of ammunition, she stomped on the Hyrocanian’s throat and walked on. A marine behind her put a sword through the creature’s chest, even though he now held a Hyrocanian weapon.
They reached the corridor intersection and glanced each way. The suited marines faced all four directions, protecting the unarmored humans in the middle. Stone patted Jay and Peebee, taking the time to yank an unidentifiable hunk of Hyrocanian off Peebee’s tail.
Stone saw the outline of Tammie Ryte’s suit disappear through an open hatch. He pointed and said loud enough for everyone to hear him, “Agent Ryte went through that hatch. Sergeant Janson, she is camouflaged, so set your visor to see her. Take half of these folks that way and cover her back. Our objective is to find and destroy the engines and the command center. Lieutenant Vedrian and I will go the other way with Sergeant Li.” He pointed at another hatch.
Li said, “January and al-Julier, on point. Let’s stick it in deeper, people.”
January laughed as she disappeared through the appointed hatch. Her voice echoed back to them. “That’s what Tuttle said.”
FORTY
Stone held his rifle at the ready, trying not to point it at any humans or at any metal surface that might cause a ricochet back onto a human. He was baffled how someone could do that on a spaceship. He spent more time watching the muzzle than he did his own feet. Even so, he knew he wasn’t in any danger of having to shoot. Allie had him carefully controlled by the collar, dragging him back to the middle of their team each time he strayed from her protection. He felt like he was on a leash, but had a hard time being angry with her. She was his girlfriend and he was the governor of the planet he’d named after her; two good reasons she wanted to keep him alive.
January and al-Julier were on point, but they’d given up being first when Jay and Peebee refused to stay with the team. They raced forward, sniffing at hatches and halting at corridor junctions. Li insisted they check every hatch at first, even the ones Jay and Peebee passed by. He soon realized what Stone already knew. Jay and Peebee could smell when a room was empty, so they passed it by. The drascos excitedly shouted at Stone whenever they smelled Hyrocanians inside a room. He didn’t mention he could smell when the aliens were there or not, as well. He kept his conversations with the drascos to himself and his odor sniffing ability a secret.
Allie knew the drascos could talk, but she was keeping mum about it. Stone was hoping it was because she trusted him, that he wasn’t really insane, and that talking to the drascos would be more than helpful in the long run.
They entered an area with fewer hatches and the rooms they checked were larger warehouse bays. Some of the hatches were frozen shut, not locked or barricaded, simply jammed mechanisms or broken latches. Some hadn’t been opened in so long dust was piled up in the corners, the rooms behind them abandoned or accessed through secondary hatches.
Peebee stopped in front of a hatch and said, “In here, Mama. Not many.” Jay danced on past, her head swiveling at each hatch she passed. Peebee hopped excitedly waiting for January and al-Julier to catch up to her.
Stone called out. “I think there are only a few Hyrocanians in there.”
Li yelled back at him from the front of their team. “How do you know, Ensign?”
Stone raced forward, ducking Allie’s hand on his collar. She should have been able to snag him with her marine reflexes, but her bad back w
as slowing her down. “Because of Peebee’s body language, Sergeant. You weren’t with us on Lazzaroni Base. The marines often trained with these drascos and you can tell a lot by how they’re reacting.” He didn’t think keeping their ability to speak a secret was a lie of omission.
Tuttle replied, her voice amplified through her suit’s system as all of the marines had their faceplates locked down, “True that, Sarge. Jay and Peebee get excited all of the time. They have different levels of excitement. Peebee is acting like there is minimal danger.”
To prove Tuttle’s point, Jay slid to a stop by a large hatch. She raised herself to her full height, head brushing the ceiling. She flapped her vestigial wings, snapping them back and forth. Dropping to her feet, she hunched as low to the ground as she could get, her tail zipping over her head to point directly at the hatch, hovering the bone point within inches of the hatch, yet not touching it. She hissed audibly. “Mama, bad things here. Many bad. We go this way and stop the bad.”
Peebee left her hatch and raced down the corridor, sliding to a stop, her talons digging deep grooves in the deck plating as she skidded to a stop. Emulating her sister, she hunched down into her attack position. “No. No. No. Hurry here.”
Stone ran past Peebee’s original hatch and ordered Li to assign a mop up crew for the room and to hurry forward to the next hatch. He heard the hatch behind him cycle open and closed. A muffled whump vibrated through the air. Glancing behind him, he saw Allie raise her handgun as Tuttle kicked the hatch open with a huge armored boot. Three quick shots later and the two women turned their backs on the damaged hatch, a sure sign there wasn’t anything left alive to be a danger.
He slid to a stop between the drascos and leveled his TDO-960A rifle at the hatch that concerned the girls. They were right. It smelled like roses dipped in maple syrup covered in licorice. He recognized these odors. Roses and maple syrup represented the sweet stench of murderous intent and licorice indicated hidden desires. The odor oozed through the bulkhead, thick and syrupy.
Jay screeched audibly, her front feet dancing on the deck in anticipation. “Hurry. They have us in there.”
Allie grabbed Stone by the collar and yanked him away from the hatch. “Dammit, Stone. Quit leading from the front. I’m not going to tell your parents I let you get yourself killed.” She pushed him at Tuttle. “Hold him, Corporal, and dammit, hold him tight.”
Tuttle laughed, “My pleasure, boss.”
Allie pointed a warning finger at Tuttle. “Better not be.” She rounded on Li. “Sergeant, these drascos are like the best hunting dogs in the galaxy. They are giving us a clear indication there is a heavy concentration of hostiles behind this hatch. Grenades on three, followed by armor.”
Stone shouted, “No. Wait. There are a lot of hostiles, but there are others in there, too. Maybe prisoners. No grenades.”
Allie glared at him. “How the hell—never mind. Okay, Sergeant Li. No explosives. We do this the hard—”
Jay interrupted by slamming her bone spike into and through the hatch. Peebee quickly imitated her sister. They yanked in concert, ripping the double sized hatch off the hinges. They threw the hatch into the now exposed warehouse bay with flicks of their tails. Following the hatch into the bay, Jay roared with rage. Peebee was only a step behind.
Armored marines flooded in behind the drascos, if you could call eight marines a flood. Stone imagined if he ever saw two angry drascos and eight huge marines in armor rushing at him, he would think of nothing less than a flood. A dozen unarmored humans rushed through the gap. Allie had holstered her handgun, now empty and grabbed a long wrecking bar from a marine private who pulled an extra sword from a makeshift belt. Allie didn’t rush into the room, but she didn’t have far to go before she swung the bar in a wide arc, crushing the skull of a Hyrocanian holding a long flexible wand. Allie winced as the weight of the bar continued around, twisting her back. Stone wanted to rush forward to help her, but Tuttle held him tightly, wrapped in her damaged arm. Her good hand spun her battle-axe, seeking a target.
Stone watched as Allie dropped the bar, letting it clank away on the deck. She yanked the wand out of the dead alien’s hands. Depressing the handle’s button caused a sizzle of electricity to zip along the wand. A second alien rushed at her, waving a knife in each of its four hands. Spinning a small knob, she touched the wand to the second Hyrocanian. The creature jerked back with a shiver, but attacked again with increased fury. Allie spun the small knob the other way, blocking a knife thrust with a stiff forearm. She jammed the wand at the fat creature’s bare chest. Sparks flew and the scent of burning flesh exploded over the area as the Hyrocanian was electrocuted and half cooked before it fell to the ground.
Stone and Tuttle hadn’t progressed more than a few feet into the bay, when Spacer Dollish squirmed past them. He picked up the four knives from the dead Hyrocanian and yanked a small pouch from its waist. Grinning, he dropped two knives into the pouch and spun two knives in his hands, whirling them, with their blades twinkling in the overhead lights. With a flick of each wrist, he threw the knives at an advancing Hyrocanian. The hilts were all Stone could see as the blades buried themselves deep into the four-armed freak’s little piggy eyes. Dollish pulled two knives from the pouch and slid forward to collect the two he’d already thrown. Allie moved forward with him, wielding her wand like a fencer’s epee.
Dollish looked back at Stone and grinned. Spinning his knives, he said, “Kitchen practice, sir, in between washing pots.”
Stone glanced around the massive bay. He’d lost track of Jay and Peebee. Dozens of Hyrocanians were attacking with whatever they held in any of their four hands. Stone spotted four armored Hyrocanians at the far end of the bay because they were as tall as a navy combat suit, heads above their unsuited friends, but dwarfed by the size of a marine combat suit. They were armed, probably with full magazines, as they held their fire. They were positioned next to a small hatchway. No friendlies had reached them, but Sergeant Li had spotted them. His armored marines were fighting with handmade weapons that might or might not have any effect on alien armor. He shouted at January and al-Julier to wait for back up before trying to take out the four at the hatchway.
Stone wondered why armed guards were so bent on protecting one hatch. The only logical answer was that whatever was behind it was important. What the Hyrocanians thought was important was exactly where he wanted to go. He looked around at the bay, but seeing the expanse of the place was difficult because of his height. Even at six-feet-four, he was a shrimp compared to Tuttle as she wrapped an arm around him. The high walls and thick fences inside the bay blocked most of his vision.
He dropped to his knees wiggling out of her grasp. The only way she could hold him was to squeeze him so tight she would do more damage than good. Stone vaulted up the side of a barricade. Scrambling to his feet, he had a clear view of the bay. He almost dropped back down to vomit. He’d seen Hyrocanians feed, seen them surround the little two-legged piglet creatures and start eating them alive and raw. He’d seen them pull Doctor Triplett to pieces and eat her still warm flesh. What he saw here sickened him beyond words.
This wasn’t a storage or warehouse bay. This was their cafeteria. Cages, fences and barricades separated the enormous space into rows and aisles. Each containment area was filled with creatures of all descriptions. In the pen behind him, dozens of piglets raced in circles, screaming and screeching as a pair of fat Hyrocanians, oblivious to the human assault on the other side of the thick barricade, grabbed a piglet, bit into its throat, gobbling it down in huge chunks. Other piglets sat quietly in corners, piled together for comfort, waiting for their turn to die. Once the Hyrocanians had selected their lunch, the piglets stopped running and sat, dropping to the deck wherever they happened to be. They looked numb.
Stone leveled his rifle and put a bullet into the top of each alien skull immediately below his position. The small pop from the gun barely made a dent in the noise of the bay as creatures of all kinds hooted, scream
ed, cried, and screeched in pain, anger, and terror.
Tuttle vaulted over the barricade, ready to swing her axe. Seeing the piglets, she skittered trying to land without crushing a piglet. The piglets squealed, racing around their pen, trying to get away from Tuttle. When she didn’t try grabbing them, they all stopped to stare at her with wide eyed curiosity. Tuttle kicked the pen’s door down, her massive suit sending the gate skittering across the aisle.
Stone walked along the wall of the pen. The barricade was wide enough he didn’t have to worry about his balance. He wondered why the Hyrocanians needed such thick walls for piglets that didn’t appear any more dangerous than a basket of fruit. He thought it might do the Hyrocanians some good to eat a few fruits and vegetables, they might not get so fat. The next pen with a similar barricade was filled with odd goat-like creatures, bleating plaintively as a pack of thinner Hyrocanians, raced around trying to catch them. These Hyrocanians were adults, yet they’d not achieved a decent level of fatness for status or promotion. A few quick shots from his rifle and the goat-like creatures were alone.
Tuttle and Dollish paced Stone’s progress in the aisle between the pens. He stopped as soon as he could see into the next pen. Two huge antlered moose-like animals were inside. He recognized them as a creature from Allie’s World. There were two circles of Hyrocanians, one surrounding each of the creatures. The circles were slowly contracting although both of the creatures weren’t done fighting. They struck out with their sharp hooves and swung their antlers like scythes. One of the creatures managed to slice a sharp antler across the mid-section of a Hyrocanian who’d been too slow to get out of the way. The wounded alien yowled in pain to the amusement of the others. These were a fat bunch, their status as officers or leaders obvious in their obese folds and oozing flab. A couple of the blubber-sided aliens had knives in their hands, the rest were without weapons, simply expecting to grab their meal and take a bite.