Battlecruiser Alamo: Shadows in the Sky

by Richard Tongue

   “Or if you prefer,” Mortimer said, “A pistol with a single bullet. That's what they used to give to sailors marooned as a punishment, back on Old Earth.”

   Frowning, Kepteros said, “We're not going to be ready to move out for hours. We've got wounded, and we need to make sure those bastards don't try for some sort of counter-attack.”

   “I understand,” Clarke said. “What can you give us?”

   “Horses,” Sekura replied. “Fast horses, as swift as the wind. They could cover the distance between here and the shuttle in a few hours. They were bred for raw speed.” A smile crossed his face, and he added, “You will find them eager mounts.”

   “Horses?” Fox said, looking uncertainly at Clarke. “Sir, I don't know about this.”

   “What about their buggy?” Maqua asked.

   Kepteros gestured towards one of the larger fires, and said, “They tried a last stand there. A pair of captured grenades brought their battle to an end, but I'm afraid there's nothing much left to salvage. I can spare a couple of guides for you, and I'll follow with everyone I have as soon as I can.”

   Nodding, Clarke said, “Garland, you'd better stay behind and help with the wounded. Koslowski can act as liaison with the second wave. See what sort of weaponry you can come up with. What's the situation with firearms?”

   “Plenty of rifles, damn little ammunition,” Fox reported. “We all spent it like water.”

   “Then we'll just have to make do with what we've got.” Turning to the cringing guard, he added, “And while you corral us some horses, you and I are going to have a conversation.”

   “You know,” Mortimer said, “Sometimes you have a real mean streak, John.”

   “Whatever the occasion demands.”

  Chapter 17

   Harper gave the data cord a brief tug, making sure that it was in position, then reached down to the control pad on her wrist, carefully bringing up the pressure in Hanson's suit. The traitor's eyes jerked open, and he found himself sprawled on a rock, with Harper a hundred feet away, sitting in the shadows. She raised a hand as he struggled to his feet, and shook her head.

   “I wouldn't. You see, I have complete control of your suit's life support system, and at the touch of a single button you'll find yourself breathing vacuum.” Gesturing at the cord, she said, “Your communication system is fried as well. That cord is the only way you can talk to me. Pull it out, and, well, let's just say that bad things happen.” She smiled, and added, “In the remote chance that you did find some way to overpower me, it wouldn't do you any good. Unless I enter a ten-digit code every three minutes, all of your oxygen will be vented into space.”

   “My people will come and get me.”

   “If you're talking about the beacon on your suit, it's five miles away and getting more distant by the moment. You really didn't cover your tracks very well.” She paused, glanced to the side, then said, “Have you ever read the Arabian Nights?”

   “What?”

   “The Arabian Nights. You must at least be aware of the basic premise. The Sultan's Wife told stories to her husband, making them interesting enough that he elected not to have her executed. Well, today we're going to be taking part in a reenactment of that story. I will be the part of the Sultan, you the wife. And you'd better keep me interested, or I might decide to stop entering that coded sequence. I will give you one brief ray of hope, though. Scheherazade had to keep her husband occupied for a thousand and one nights. I'll settle for an hour or so.”

   “And if I talk, it's just a slower death. You won't let me live.”

   “Not necessarily,” she replied. “Yes, you're not leaving this spot under your own power. I already dumped all of your thruster fuel into my suit, and you've only got six hours of oxygen left at the outside. Should my side win, I'll send someone to come and get you, and promise that you will be treated as a prisoner of war.” She settled back, and said, “I already cracked most of your database, so I'm aware of your relationship with Endurance. And for the record, knowing that you have chosen the side of slave-holding mass-murderers hasn't endeared me to you.”

   “I wouldn't expect you to understand our situation, our problems. If you let me go, then...”

   “That isn't going to happen, Lieutenant, and I think we both know that. As I was saying, I've already managed to brief myself about the basic situation, but there was remarkably little on the actual reasons for our capture, and the purpose of this installation. I assume you were concerned that we were going to find a way to crack through the sphere, potentially discover this place, but so far all I've found are the same sort of ruins that our landing teams reported on the surface. They don't seem to be worth dying for.”

   “I'm going to need more than a theoretical promise of survival to help you.”

   Scowling, Harper replied, “Now, Lieutenant, I'm afraid I'm not finding these protests particularly interesting, and I might have to start considering withdrawing your oxygen. I'm certain that I can find my own way out of here, and will almost certainly defeat your plans without you.”

   “If you're so certain of that, kill me now and get it over with.”

   She looked at him with new eyes, nodded, and said, “You'll make things a lot easier, I'll admit. So, let's go to another old story. Think of me as your Fairy Godmother, willing to grant you a single, realistic, wish. Though if I decide you are asking too much, I'm afraid our conversation will be forced to come to an unceremonious end.”

   “Freedom,” Hanson said.

   “Define it,” Harper replied.

   “You'll release me down on the surface, with emergency rations and a survival kit. There are billions of humans out there. I don't have anything holding me to the Hegemony.”

   She paused, nodded, and said, “Nothing else changes. If I don't win in six hours, you die. If we win, then I'll see that you are released down on the ground, and you can take your chances out there. Though you'll forgive me for not wishing you luck. Now you get to earn your freedom. Talk.”

   He frowned, nodded, and said, “Originally, the plan was to capture Endurance. My commanders are afraid that it could become the nucleus of a major revolt. Already there have been incidents, and the results are verging on catastrophic. Ending the rebellion before it can truly begin is the only option acceptable to my government.” He paused, then added, “Of course, if your ship would assist us against Endurance, we could come to an agreement.”

   “No. Carry on.”

   “We've been exploring the sphere for years, and while we aren't any closer to understanding any of the technology involved, we have been able to activate some of it. Specifically, a jamming field capable of blocking all communication and sensor input, rendering a ship blind.”

   Harper's eyes widened, and she said, “Details.”

   “It's area-based. We can't target it. And naturally, we can't use any equipment of that type ourselves while the field is in operation. There are limitations. We found it in one of these caverns, four years go. Our guess is that it is a part of the sphere's own defense system, but we've never really been able to understand the psychology involved. All we know is that it works.”

   “Any other fun surprises waiting for us?”

   Shaking his head, he replied, “Not really. The laser weapons were acquired by a scouting party down on the surface, traded with an advanced culture in exchange for information on the state of the galaxy. We've explored out to a radius of a thousand miles, covering areas of interest.”

   “And you have a base on the surface?”

   “About a hundred miles from the entrance. A captured settlement. That's where the first team we captured were taken. If you allow me to send a signal...”

   “I can assure you, Lieutenant, that I am not that stupid. This device. Is it man-portable? How does it work?”

   “I don't know. It took a team of experts years just to activate it, and the process is
not simple. It's about twelve miles from here, I think. Marked as Point Theta on the charts you'll have stolen. Heavily guarded, of course. You won't even get close.”

   “Let me worry about that,” she replied. “I want you to remember something. I might have wrecked your transmitter, but the receiver is still working fine. Meaning that I can control your fate at a nice long range. If I find out that you've lied to me, even by omission, then I promise that I will find time to make some interesting alterations to the composition of your atmospheric mixture.”

   “There's nothing more,” he replied. “Except that I know we're planning to lure Endurance and Alamo into the trap. We've got reinforcements coming in, enough to deal with both of them, especially with the jamming field. The same system worked on Monitor.”

   “That was your people?” she said, her voice harsh.

   “We tried to capture them, but something went wrong. I wasn't here at the time. I only know what was in the reports, and that wasn't much.” He grimaced, then said, “If I knew anything else I would tell you. I'm no fool, and I don't have any wish to die any time soon. I know that the best chance I have is if you manage to beat my former friends.”

   “Only chance. And my heart is warmed by my loyalty.”

   “I'm showing the same loyalty to them as they did to me. They promised that I wouldn't be taken prisoner with the rest of the crew of Endurance, then changed their mind at the last minute. I think they were expecting you to kill me.”

   “You never know, Lieutenant, they might yet be right about that.” Gesturing down the tunnel, she said, “This takes me back to the main passages? And on to Point Theta, later on?”

   “Yes, but you'll have problems getting through the security. If you take your time...”

   “Neither of us have the time, and I'm not getting close enough to you to top up your oxygen reserve.” She reached for the cable, then said, “Anything else you want to tell me, now is the time.”

   He frowned, then said, “If you make it, let me know that help is on the way. And if you can't, don't let me die slowly. Just cut off my oxygen and get it over with. I think I've at least earned the right to determine the means of my execution.”

   “Very well. Sweet dreams.”

   “What?”

   She tapped a control, turning the oxygen level down, enough that Hanson rapidly slumped into unconsciousness. While she was reasonably certain that her reprogramming would hold, there seemed little reason to take a risk. Tugging out the data cord, she wound it back down, then flicked up the charts she'd stolen, plotting out a route through the tunnels.

   The Hierarchy had done a thorough job of mapping, if nothing else; there were half a dozen good routes through, most of them with guard posts marked. She looked at the obsidian blade concealed in her glove, and smiled. That wasn't going to be any good against armed guards, not unless they displayed a level of incompetence that was far too much to hope for. Before anything else, she needed weapons.

   On a faint hope, she checked her communicator again, only receiving the same roar of static as before. Likely the jammer was already working, albeit at limited range. That would explain the lackluster response to her escape, and gave her a weakness in the defenses that she could exploit. As long as she was careful to cover her tracks, the enemy would have no way of knowing they were under attack.

   Less than a mile away, according to the chart, there was a small storage area, a single guard on duty. That was her first target. She kicked off, letting her thrusters fire, gentle pulses of fuel to send her drifting down the corridor, easily overcoming the microscopic gravity field. Turning a corner, she spotted a light in the distance, off down a side shaft. Her pursuers, still blindly following her beacon. Just to reassure herself, she flicked onto the camera view of the drone, catching an image of three suited figures rushing after it, struggling to catch up.

   That race wouldn't last for much longer. As far as she could tell, the drone was almost out of fuel, and they'd learn about her deception as soon as they caught up with it. There was nothing she could do about that, and they were still far closer than she would have liked. At least her current objective was in a different direction.

   She drifted onwards through the corridors, periodically glancing up at the text on the wall, her computer still struggling to translate the original images, flashing occasional alerts to inform her of its progress, still barely one word in twenty successfully decoded. If she'd had access to Alamo's computers, it would have been the work of a matter of moments, but the processing power of her spacesuit, even with her own creative modifications, was far more limited.

   The Hierarchy hadn't even got that far. From the notes that she read, they viewed them as little more than unintelligible decoration, had made no serious attempt to translate them. One more potential advantage for her, assuming she could find a way to make use of it. She ducked around a rocky outcrop, then spotted a green light in the darkness, far down the passage. The supply dump.

   All she needed was the guard's weapon, and maybe the thruster fuel in his backpack. A quick inventory flashed down her screen, all interesting items, food, oxygen, spare parts, but nothing she could find any practical use for. At maximum magnification, she could just make out the figure, moving back and forth, sweeping a searchlight around.

   Her suit sensors could track his every movement. She still didn't know the capabilities of the enemy suits, but even at this range, she'd have expected to be spotted. Cautiously, she fired a quick pulse of fuel, sending her lazily drifting down the corridor, cutting her helmet lights as she moved slowly towards the guard, her hands well clear of her empty holster.

   At fifty feet, the guard turned, aiming his rifle at her, and she quickly corrected her course, hanging dead in front of him. For an instant, he looked away, glancing at a dataport on the wall, and Harper's eyes lit up. There was a way for her to signal Alamo, albeit one that would risk giving away her position. A wired communications network, running through the passages. Likely with a link to a relay out of range of the jamming field.

   Time was not on her side. The guard moved forward, gesturing for her to drift to the side, and she briefly complied, cautiously playing her thrusters as she settled into position. Then she gestured at her life support gauge, shaking her head, throwing a confused frown on the face of the guard, who tentatively began to approach her.

   When he was within range, she stabbed her thruster control once again, hurling herself towards him. His gun fired, and alarms started to ring through her suit, a puncture on her leg, burning agony from her shattered bone. Momentum and instinct carried her attack home, and she slashed her blade through the guard's suit before he could fire a second shot, the force of exploding air popping seams, leaving the man's body exposed to the near-vacuum beyond.

   Harper reached into a side pouch, panting for breath, and looked down at the breach. A single puncture, nice and clean, right through her leg. She took the largest patch she had, wrapping it around the two holes, holding it in position for long enough to ensure a good seal before risking the release of her hands.

   While she worked, the auto-med in her suit started pumping her full of drugs, painkillers and stimulants designed to keep her moving, while the diagnostic computers began their work. For a time, she would feel fine, and with the gravity as low as it was, her thrusters could carry her around the caverns, but as soon as the drugs wore off, she'd almost certainly fall unconscious from the pain.

   Taking the pistol, she carefully pushed forward towards the dataport, keeping her wounded leg clear of obstructions, plugging in a cable and linking it up to her suit. She paused for a second, knowing that she was certainly giving away her position, but getting word of the danger back to Alamo was worth the risk.

   “Harper to Alamo Actual. Come in at once. I don't have much time.”

   “Alamo Actual here!” Salazar said. “What's happening?”

   “You're hea
ding into a trap. They've got some sort of jamming field that blocks communicators and sensors. I'm going to try and knock it out, but I'm going to need help. Anything you can send me. I'm not sure I can pull this off alone.”

   Despair filled Salazar's voice as he replied, “We're currently being pursued by two enemy cruisers, with Endurance in fast pursuit. Our course is taking us back to the portal, but it will be hours before I can get any shuttles down to you, even if we could get the damned thing open.” He sighed, then said, “We'll do everything we can. Are you alright?”

   Looking down at her leg, she replied, “Not a problem, Pavel, though I could use some company. It's a little lonely around here, though I suspect it won't be for much longer. I'll call if I can. Harper out.”

   At least she'd passed the warning, even if it hadn't changed the situation. One crippled officer against dozens of trained soldiers. Cold comfort that these weren't the worst odds she'd ever faced. With a sigh, and a quick look at the distressing reports feeding in from her medical monitor, she fired the thrusters again, sending herself racing down the corridor.

  Chapter 18

   The horses thundered across the plain, almost skimming over the grass as the group raced towards their destination, their shuttle just visible in the distance, close to the pit leading to the surface. Clarke was holding on for grim life, but he had a wide smile on his face, the wind rushing through his hair as he and his team sped towards their way home.

   Their equipment was a strange mix of the primitive and the advanced, all of them retaining their swords, the rifles slung by their sides only loaded with a single clip for each. Mortimer had scavenged some binoculars from somewhere, but she hadn't dared to reach for them in hours, fearful of falling from the fast-galloping mount.

   Fox was taking up the rear, her face a mask of terror, and Clarke struggle to suppress a smile. All the battles they had fought together, and this was the first time she had ever evinced any flicker of fear, riding a horse across wide grasslands on a beautiful morning. Somehow, for the first time he soaked up the enormity of the sphere, the lands surrounding him on every direction, and a part of him longed to simply ride on, to continue into the unknown reaches beyond.