“No!” Tag yelled. The ship was too close to the Argo, hidden under its belly in a blind spot, and the Stalwart was still loading Mechanics as the seconds ticked down until Drone-Mech contact. He couldn’t let Coren get swallowed up by that ship. They’d already lost G. Gorenado’s life might be forfeit. No way was he losing another crew member.
“Captain!” Bull shouted over the comms. His thrusters glowed behind him as he steadied himself and caught up to Tag. His gloved fingers grasped Tag’s shoulder. “We’ve got to get back to the ship.”
“Not without Coren!” Tag pushed Bull’s hand away.
He started to accelerate toward Coren but then abruptly stopped. There would be no way to physically yank Coren away from whatever traction was sucking him into that ship. He had to try something else. The rocket launcher unclipped from his back with ease, and he shouldered the weapon, held in place by intermittent bursts from his thrusters. Firing a gun with any amount of kick would send him careening backward, and using a weapon in zero-g went against all his instincts. But the rocket launcher used self-propelled rounds suitable for this environment. All that was left was to lock onto his target. A targeting reticule popped up on his heads-up display, and he aimed at the open mouth of the sapphire ship.
Then he pressed the firing mechanism.
A self-propelled rocket exploded from the launcher, making a straight line for the azure ship. The vessel didn’t even seem to notice as the rocket slipped into the opening. A moment later, Coren stopped then shot backward from the ship, his thrusters firing and pushing him away. The hatch swirled shut like waves crashing together, and the sapphire hull of the spacecraft appeared smooth and fluid once more.
Bull and Tag spiraled toward the Argo, joining Coren. As Tag reached to grab a handhold on the airlock, he waited for the sapphire ship to explode into a spreading cloud of jutting plasma and melted alloy.
But it never did. Instead, the brilliant blue alloy shifted to orange, as if a fire was spreading just under the surface from where the rocket had hit. The orange shifted into a dazzling sunset of colors until the entire ship went black. Abruptly, the vessel turned and raced into space, speeding away from the Argo, the Stalwart, and the oncoming Drone-Mechs in a vivid blur more striking than a lightning bolt. Tag shook himself from his shock and hoisted himself into the airlock. Bull stood next to him, holding Coren in place. The Mechanic’s limbs still trembled as Tag hit the terminal command to shut the airlock. A slight quaking resonated through the airlock’s bulkhead as the hatch shut. Air rushed in around them, and the grav generators reactivated within the space, tugging them all back to the deck.
Coren still seemed shell-shocked as they each rushed from the docking port, back toward their stations aboard the Argo. When Tag secured himself into his crash couch on the bridge, Alpha reported two minutes until contact with the Drone-Mechs. A thousand questions flew through Tag’s mind in a typhoon of uncertainty, curiosity, and frustration.
“Alpha, initiate jump,” Tag said. “Now!”
One burned brightest in his mind as waves of plasma broke across the ship.
What in the three hells just happened?
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“Different Drone-Mechs. Different xenos. No Dreg.” Bull summed up their failed outing to Herandion rather curtly. The muscles in his jaw worked as he stared around the conference table. “Don’t tell me this is just a coincidence.”
“I certainly would not offer such an assessment,” Alpha said.
Sofia brushed a sweat-matted strand of hair from her face and then let out a sigh. “I checked all our files and all the data the Mechanics have. That Sapphire ship is unlike anything we’ve ever seen. Not even a close match to another species.”
“The theory still stands that the Drone-Mechs or the Drone-masters are cultivating a coalition of nanite-infected species,” Tag said.
“Or, for that matter,” Sofia said, “maybe the so-called Sapphires and the Dreg are simply accomplices. Maybe the Sapphire ship is from the Drone-masters.”
Tag shuddered to think they had come so close to what might be the Drone-masters. But he had his doubts. Had the Sapphire ship been in league with the Drone-masters, he couldn’t imagine they would have been allowed to escape like that. “Whatever the case, we can’t rule out those possibilities based on what we’ve seen.”
“And we’re still left with a couple of unresolved theories as to how the Drone-Mechs are tracking us,” Bracken said. “One is that the Dreg and these Sapphires are complicit somehow. Perhaps they are serving as sentries or lookouts of sorts.”
“Viable answer,” Coren said.
“On the other hand,” Bracken said, “there is a very real possibility that someone aboard our ships is compromised.”
“Thing is,” Sofia said, “Alpha and I have been looking for outgoing signals. I haven’t spotted a damn thing.” She looked at Bracken’s holo expectantly.
Bracken’s serious expression never wavered, but Tag could hear the defeat in her voice. “We also have not detected any signal.”
“And again,” Tag said, “with a crew my size, I’ve pretty much got my eye on them at all times. You’re looking at all of ’em in here save for three marines who have risked their life time and time again for us. I can assure you it’s not us.”
“Don’t you dare insinuate it’s one of my people,” Bull said, practically snarling at Bracken before she could get a word in. “Admiral Doran and I hand-selected them.”
“I hate to reiterate a known fact,” Alpha said, “but the nanites do not affect human biological systems. In fact, I have run simulations that demonstrate the nanites possess no self-assembly ability within a normal human physiologic environment. They are merely expelled.”
“All the same,” Bracken said, “we’ve run the assays and tests you sent us. We haven’t identified any traitors in our midst.”
“Then this should be a good thing, right?” Sofia said. She adopted an almost dreamy expression, which Tag found strange on its own. “Imagine the hundreds of species we don’t even know exist.” Ah, there it was: the ET anthropologist side of her kicking in. The scientific wonder of the unknown. Her thirst to learn about new species, study their cultures. Didn’t fit into a war room briefing like this, but then again, as Tag looked around, who did? “The Drone-masters have technology none of us could have fathomed. It stands to reason that they’re flying around out there in places we don’t even know yet meeting peoples we couldn’t even think up in our wildest dreams.”
“Or nightmares,” Bull added.
Sofia shrugged. “Or nightmares. And they’re forging alliances and enslaving people left and right. Maybe they have an established network, and we’re just the little flies that keep bumping into their spider web.”
“It is not an illogical point,” Alpha said.
“No, no, it’s not,” Tag said. “And I think it’s worth testing.”
“How do you propose that?” Bracken said.
“Our next stop is Chronamede,” Tag said, gesturing to a holo of the planet rotating in the middle of the table. The planet had been under investigation as a candidate for terraforming when the nanite outbreak hit. There were supposed to be only two ships—one military, one research—stationed at the planet to commence the operations. “I propose we skip past it.”
“Do you mean we won’t return to investigate it?” Bracken asked.
“No, not at all. I think it’s a worthwhile candidate. But I don’t want to transition into normal space anywhere near there. Let’s recalculate a route that takes us an extra five days in hyperspace past Chronamede.”
“That will take us well beyond sensor range,” Alpha said, “and there is absolutely nothing out there within a day of hyperspace travel.”
“That’s my point,” Tag said. “We transition there. Where everything is wide open to us. No space stations. No planets. Not even a damn asteroid. We won’t be crossing any known trade routes or science expedition trajectories. Just
us and the emptiness.”
“Ah,” Bracken said. “Very well. The chance of any alien species, Drone-Mech or otherwise, randomly existing in such a spot would be virtually zero.”
“Right,” Tag said. “So if we transition there and wait it out a day or two, we shouldn’t see a damn Drone-Mech jump anywhere near us.”
“Assuming another species is responsible for signaling them,” Sofia said.
Tag nodded. “Which is what we think is most likely. I know it prolongs our mission of scouring space for free Mechanics by a few days, but I think it would be worthwhile to test this.”
“Ever the scientist, Captain Brewer,” Bracken said. Her thin fingers clasped together. “Very well. Let us examine this hypothesis. I hope we can lay to rest any doubt that one of our crew members is causing the signal.”
“Well, that’s not exactly true, is it?” Bull said forcefully. “If it’s one of us in this room, they know what we’re doing...then this whole plan is already fucked.” His eyes danced between Bracken and Coren.
“Once again, I don’t appreciate the wild accusations,” Bracken replied, her tone colder than the vacuum of space. “But at least we’ll have narrowed down our pool of suspects.” Her eyes met Bull’s. Even through the holo, the distrust radiating between them stung Tag as if it were a leak from the fusion reactors powering the Argo.
“Good,” Tag said. “Then it’s decided. In the meantime, how is the development on the grav wave program?”
“Theoretical models have been implemented,” Bracken said. “We have several physicists investigating the matter, and they believe it’s possible to disrupt the signal without killing any Mechanics infected with the nanites. But we’re still weeks from a practical solution to using the Lacklon Institute to disable the Drone-Mechs.”
“But that means you think there is a solution?” Tag asked.
“I do,” Bracken said. “Preliminary simulations...” She let her words trail off and inhaled as if preparing to subject herself to some kind of pain. “Preliminary simulations, thanks to the data your team has provided, suggest an overlap between the Institute’s technology and that of the Drone-masters’ nanites.”
Tag couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face. “I’m happy to hear we could do something helpful.”
Bracken’s slightly defeated expression turned ever so slightly sour. “How about the vaccine?”
A knot formed in Tag’s gut. “Good news and bad news. We’ve confirmed that the free Mechanic we found had an acquired immune reaction to the nanites. She was infected, but her body more or less fought them off.”
“Bad news?”
“We have no idea how she acquired this immune reaction,” Tag said.
“No idea yet,” Alpha added a bit too cheerfully, emphasizing the “yet.”
Even though Bracken’s expression had hardly changed, Tag had found he had gotten better at reading Mechanics’ expressions. There was clear disappointment etched in her slightly downturned lips and flat-pressed fur.
“We need a vaccine,” Bracken said. “If we figure out how this mess of Drone-Mechs is following us and manage to find any remaining free members of my species, the last thing I want to do is drag them all to Meck’ara and make it that much easier for the Drone-masters to finish their work of eradicating my brothers and sisters.”
A weight heavier than the Argo settled over Tag. “Trust me, I understand.” A brief thought flitted through his mind regarding the state of the Montenegro and what his own species was up to. He had sent the SRE constant updates via drone courier. But between their sporadic mission schedule and the fact that they never sent their next destinations via courier for fear of interception by the Drone-Mechs, they had been unable to receive any messages back. For all he knew, the entire human race had already been destroyed or enslaved by the Drone-masters. He had no doubt the Drone-masters were attempting to spread through the universe like some kind of galactic disease, and all they had was a single sample from a free Mechanic to develop a vaccine against them.
Then it hit him. They had far more data than he’d ever realized. His sudden epiphany must have made its way into his expression judging by the shrewd look Bracken was giving him.
“You look like you just solved the issue of developing a vaccine,” she said.
“As a matter of fact,” Tag said, “I might have.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Sofia, Coren, and Alpha were gathered in the med bay with Tag. Lonestar looked at them with passive interest as she performed a couple of light exercises Tag had given her.
“I am thrilled to finally be included in the club,” Sofia said, “but I’m not big on needles.”
“No needles,” Tag said.
“And you’re not strapping me with some kind of droid work—no offense, Alpha.”
“Why would I take offense?” Alpha asked. “I’m not a droid.”
“No,” Tag said, looking between Coren and Sofia. This was going to be a long shot, but it might actually work. He recalled his epidemiology courses and seminars once more. He wasn’t looking for a patient zero this time. Rather, he wanted to know more about the people who hadn’t been affected. “On Eta-Five, you two played a whole bunch of recordings and holos. Every one of them featured a Mechanic or a group of them who were under attack or trying to escape from Drone-Mechs.”
“Ah.” Sofia was already calling up the data on her wrist terminal. “I get it. You think at least most of them are probably free Mechanics, right?”
“That’s my hope,” Tag said. “I want to dig up as much data on them as possible. Maybe there’s something they share in common. If there are any patterns in their medical histories or something, we might identify what it was that gave them immunity to the nanites.”
“Tracking down all this data will not be easy,” Coren said. “Especially given that our connection to Mechanic databases outside what we have on the Stalwart is tenuous at best.”
“I know. We’re not exactly in a great spot, but at least we have something to go off of.”
“And I suppose combing through these databases will be my responsibility?” Coren asked.
“Sofia’s, too, and Alpha’s when she’s not helping me with our patients,” Tag said. “If I’ve got free time, I’ll be right there with you.”
“Data mining and data entry duty?” Sofia asked with a mock expression of disgust. “This is definitely not why I studied ET anthropology.”
“We can drop you off with the Dreg instead,” Tag said. “I’m sure a five-year immersive xenopological study on those guys would be a blast.”
“The only part of that plan that would be a blast is when I shoot every goddamn one of those little assholes that try to drill into our ship again,” Sofia said.
“Harsh.”
“Hey, they left their grimy little prints and broken ships all over the Argo for me to clean up.”
“I thought the repair bots were responsible for extraship maintenance and repairs after the Dreg assault,” Alpha said.
“Don’t get smart with me,” Sofia replied. Alpha’s face remained immobile as if she was trying to figure out exactly what Sofia meant. “Humor, again. Anyway, point taken. Happy to help with the free Mechanic study.”
“Good,” Tag said. “I’m sure you’ll find the work vastly rewarding.”
He left Coren and Sofia to begin scouring through the data they had compiled from the initial nanite outbreak. With a gesture, he had Alpha follow him to Gorenado’s regen chamber. The terminal still glared with a bleak “N/A” next to the estimated time of healing. Normally by now, tendrils of red blood vessels and ligaments would be crisscrossing the void, serving as a scaffold for the other tissues and replacement organs to regenerate. But the hole was still a hole. Tag could peek straight through the polyglass and see the back of the regen chamber through Gorenado’s injury. Something was stopping the regen chamber’s AI from filling in the devastating wound on the marine’s chest.
“Should I prepare the surgical suite?” Alpha asked as if she could read Tag’s mind. For all he knew, maybe that wasn’t so farfetched with her built-in biosensor arrays. He wished he had some way of knowing what she was thinking.
“Yes,” Tag said. His heart started to climb into his throat as he imagined the surgery ahead. An image of his deceased med bay assistant, Curtis Morgan, scraping at the med bay hatch during the initial Drone-Mech attack on the Argo floated through his mind. Some extra medical experience around here would have been nice. If the AI couldn’t figure this one out, he wondered what the odds of him and a weeks-young synth-bio life-form helping Gorenado were.
As it was, the only thing keeping Gorenado alive in any semblance of the word was the mechanical blood-pumping and breathing control offered by the regen chamber. Alpha returned to Tag’s side with a hovergurney attached to a mobile life-support system. Seeing the life-support system reminded Tag of his failed attempt to save Staff Sergeant Kaufman.
I won’t let you down, Tag said as he disengaged the regen chamber. This time, the marine in his charge would live. He promised himself they would save Gorenado. He couldn’t imagine the outcome any other way. Whatever it took, Gorenado would open his eyes again and walk through these passages with the rest of the crew.
The regen chamber hissed open, and Tag lowered Gorenado’s body onto the hovergurney. The biomonitors attached to Gorenado blatted with high-pitched alarms reporting systemic organ failure. Tag ignored the reptilian part of his brain screaming in fear in response to the alarms and let his medical training prevail. Deliberately and carefully, he secured the life support system around Gorenado’s chest. Electric signals passed through Gorenado’s skin from the system, telling his cardiac muscles what to do. A tube down his trachea ensured proper oxygen flow, and rivulets of blood seeped from parts of the wound that had opened again from moving his body.
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