8
The COM was not too far away from the med-bay, only two levels up. The room’s tight span was made tighter by the presence of four grown people. Captain Milos was scratching his chin thoughtfully at the center, his chair looking upon the other chairs in the room from a height. Milos and the three other people in the room—Wiz, Fenny, and Ross—turned to look at Ramya as soon as she stepped inside. Wiz smiled and waved, Fenny nodded, Milos let out a grunt, and Ross turned away hastily.
Ramya couldn’t stop her mouth from twisting. What was wrong with Ross? Did he think acting dismissive was fashionable or something? Making a mental note to never smile at Ross again, Ramya walked closer to Milos. She didn’t have to say one word. Milos rose from his chair and grabbed a jacket lying next to him.
“Sosa needs me,” he announced, slipping an arm into the jacket. “Are we all set for entry into the SLH?”
“Yes, Captain. I can do it in my sleep. Except for . . . you know . . . those.” Wiz punched a few buttons to make the visual on his screen larger and pointed at a distant cluster of tiny black dots on the screen.
“What in the stars are those?” Ross stepped closer to look.
Wiz shrugged. “Hard to see from here. We’re still an hour out. But I’m guessing they are the SLH Troopers.”
“Iffin ten of them,” Fenny scoffed. “What the hell are they doing there?”
Milos headed toward the door. “They’re not there to welcome us, I suppose,” he said gruffly. “Commander, please secure our cargo. Take Fenny with you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wiz, can you handle the entry on you own?” Milos asked, his voice calm but tired. “I have to go visit Sosa.”
“Sure thing, Captain,” Wiz replied.
“Use the comm if you need me,” Milos instructed before nodding at Ramya. “Let’s go, little girl.”
They walked out through the hatch, Ramya following the captain. As soon as they were a few steps away from the COM, Milos turned toward her. “Did Sosa have a message for me?”
“She said, ‘It’s time.’”
“All right. You’re excused from med-bay for now.”
Ramya nodded vigorously. Milos walked into the elevator right across from the COM. As the doors shut, Ramya thought how strange it was that both Sosa and the captain were so eager to excuse her from the med-bay.
This is a weird place, she thought. They’re mixed up in something that’s for sure. Was it something about the debris in Sector 22? Or the survivor they had picked up?
She had barely taken ten steps along the corridor when the doors of the elevator creaked open and Milos stepped out.
“Come with me,” he said, marching back toward the COM and beckoning Rami to follow.
Ross and Fenny were hovering behind Wiz when they entered. They fell away like a pair of swatted flies on seeing the captain.
“I don’t want to interrupt your ongoing investigation,” Milos said drably. “Just came to remind you of our other cargo in case you’ve—”
“The iffin eggs,” Fenny blurted. Her face wilted like fresh-cut salad under a summer sun.
“Yes, Fenny,” the captain said. “Just in case, please go to the hold prepared.”
“Damn eggs,” Fenny grumbled.
“Yes, I agree,” the captain said. He scratched his chin for a moment and then eyed Ramya. “Why don’t you take her along? She’ll learn a thing or two, and you’ll have an extra pair of hands.”
Neither Fenny nor Ross seemed to like the captain’s suggestion. Fenny gawped disbelievingly and Ross openly scowled before both protested.
“But she’s just a kid, Captain,” Fenny said.
“Sir, she’ll only be a hindrance,” Ross said. “She’s untrained and . . . new.”
While Ramya didn’t quite understand what eggs they needed to secure and how she was going to help, the way Ross dismissed her yet again made her want to quash his head. Hindrance? Really? What kind of klutz did he think she was?
The captain’s left brow had shot up. “You’ll need the help. And she needs to learn the ropes.”
“There’s hardly time,” Ross grumbled.
“Then I suggest you get started quickly, Commander,” Captain Milos said before walking out of the COM.
Ramya followed Fenny and Ross to a room a level below the COM. It was the weapons storage room. The range of guns and munitions stacked on every shelf was an easy giveaway. But why in the stars did they need weapons to visit the cargo hold? Before Ramya could overcome the chill that had invaded the tips of her fingers and toes and was quickly streaming further up her body, Fenny handed Ramya some armor. It was a bulky brown thing of metal, as outdated a model as the ship they were in, but in pretty sturdy condition nonetheless.
Ross and Fenny donned their armor in silence. Ramya followed, hoping that no one would notice her trembling fingers. Wish I had a glass of water. No, I need Sosa’s Pax right now.
“Here, take this,” Ross held a medium-sized rifle and a flashlight out for her. “This is an Oori,” he explained, pointing at the firearm. “It looks small but is quite potent. Use it only if you have to.”
Ross picked a couple of large, mean-looking blasters and handed one to Fenny. Ramya noted the grim look on both of their faces. Why they were gearing up for battle, she still couldn’t fathom. Since no one was explaining, she decided to ask.
“What exactly are we going to do?”
“Visit the cargo hold,” Fenny replied.
“To do what?”
“Didn’t you hear the captain?” Ross said. He was shoving handful of ammunition into the recesses of his armor.
“Of course, I did,” she retorted. Why couldn’t they answer a simple question? “I don’t get why we have to dress up in battle gear to visit the cargo hold,” Ramya said somewhat snappily.
“Because of the iffin eggs, that’s why,” Fenny replied. She busily checked her blaster settings and nodded at Ross. “Good to go.”
“All right, let’s move.”
“Fenny, what about the eggs?” Ramya asked on the way down to the lowest level of the ship.
“They’re not just any eggs, kid,” Fenny said. “These are Pterostrich eggs.”
Ramya had to clutch at her Oori tighter to stop it from slipping off her hands.
“Ptero-pterostrich eggs?” she stuttered to life after a while. “You don’t mean those gigantic birds from Limitor, do you?”
Fenny nodded in a futile, hopeless sort of way.
“But they are dangerous predators,” Ramya yelled, as if her calling them dangerous would make the current situation any better. “Why do you even have them in the cargo hold?”
“Long story, kid,” Fenny said with a deep sigh. She stole a glance at Ross. “We would’ve delivered them to the Komilahns already had it not been for a detour. Now, we’re stuck with them. And the eggs are about to hatch in our cargo hold.”
Ramya gulped. It must’ve been noisy because Ross eyed her coldly. Ramya didn’t care. She was going to face Pterostrich chicks in a few minutes, the commander’s rudeness was nothing compared.
“So, we simply kill them, right?”
Fenny looked at her like she had just seen a ghost. “Hell no, kid. We kill no one unless they try to kill us first. All we do is make sure they’re secure. That’s all.”
Ramya leaned back against the cold, hard wall of the elevator and closed her eyes. God of the stars! What have I gotten myself into!
9
The door of the cargo hold opened slowly. A chill drifted out from the dark insides as soon as the panels parted. But that was not what sent a shiver down Ramya’s spine. It was the smell—a thick, suffocating smell typical of a wild animal’s lair.
Let those chicks be dead already, Ramya prayed. Please!
Pterostriches were ferocious beasts. They were flightless birds with talons that were as big as a full-grown human’s arm. Found only on Limitor, a tiny rocky planet in Sector 79, they were treasured for two things: t
heir flesh was considered a delicacy and the young birds were used for racing. On Limitor, free of larger predators, Pterostriches had a thriving population. Yet, due to their ferocious nature, few were captured. The price of a live mature Pterostrich could easily reach a hundred-thousand lieres, so obviously there was no dearth of people trying to catch Pterostriches.
“Turning lights on now,” Ross said, reaching for the controls on the inside wall. The ceiling flickered to life, bathing the space in cold, drab light, but only for a second. Then it was dark all over again. Ross tapped the controls a few times. The hold stayed lightless.
“Damn!” Fenny said. “Gotta get Flux take a look at that.”
Ross slapped the bright red button of his wrist-mounted comm. “Flux, hear me?”
“Ross,” Flux’s voice crackled back. Ramya remembered the engineer; he was with Fenny on Nikoor. “Whassup?”
“The lights are out in the cargo hold. Can you fix it from your station?”
“Lemme check.” He went quiet for a second or two. “I don’t see any alarms up here, Ross. I’d have to check out the controls down there.”
“All right. Do it later, but get to it today, all right?” Even before Ross switched the comm off, thoughts started pelting Ramya’s mind. What is wrong with this crew? They are wacky, grumpy obviously, but suicidal too?
“What do you mean later?” she asked, incredulous. “Don’t tell me we’re gonna walk into that dark. There could be Pterostrich chicks roaming around in there. They’d be hungry. And—”
“And we’re food. I know,” Ross replied calmly. “But they shouldn’t be roaming around. We put them in a cage.”
Fenny snorted and Ross frowned at her. “In any case,” Ross huffed, “we have to get inside and secure the other cargo. We can’t wait for Flux to fix this. There’s not enough time.”
Fenny leaned closer to explain. “Ross is right. We have to get this done before we reach the AP. If the troopers board the ship and check the hold, we’ll be in trouble. There’s not enough time for Flux to come here and investigate. Besides, we can’t let Flux in until we make sure it’s safe in here.”
Ramya shook her head. They couldn’t let Flux in, but they could happily drag her along? Did they see a “Pterostrich food” label on her forehead or something?
“Those iffin troopers,” Fenny grumbled. “What the hell have they lined up for? And not just one ship either. A whole iffin squadron. As if fugitives are on the loose or something.”
Ramya’s gut flipped. Fugitives? What if . . . ? She couldn’t finish the thought. The wave of fear and nausea hit her back to back. Ramya breathed, slow and deep.
The panic subsided a second or two later and she forced herself to consider the idea. What if Fenny was right? The SLH Troopers could be checking for fugitives, for her. Her father could’ve easily gotten a squadron of troopers dispatched.
“Get your flashlights out,” Ross commanded. “You,” he nodded at Ramya, “stay between us. Fenny, I’ll take the left.”
His rough order, like a dog running through a flock of birds, scattered Ramya’s fears. Worrying was hardly of any help anyway. If the SLH Troopers were indeed after her, she was done for. Out here in space, she had nowhere to run.
“All right,” Ramya replied eagerly, almost happy to immerse herself in the adventure. Fighting Pterostriches was better than coping with the idea that her father could be close—very close—to dragging her back to Somenvaar.
They filed inside. Ramya rushed along to keep up with Ross and Fenny. The door closed noisily behind them and the whole room plunged into darkness.
Ramya shined her flashlight around. The hold was huge, its other end hidden somewhere far in the darkness. The near vicinity of the room was filled with crates, boxes, and cages of all sizes. The walls seemed to curve and close in further ahead.
“There,” Ross said, looking toward the left. Ramya peeked from behind him.
“Damn,” Fenny cursed.
It took Ramya a second to fathom Fenny’s frustration. Far to their left in the darkness sat a bunch of eggs in a thick wire enclosure. The spotted eggs were each about as tall as Ramya. There were four eggs and a giant heap of broken shells. Clearly, some of the eggs had hatched. Ramya tried to deduce how many—two at least! Whatever was inside those eggs was now nowhere to be seen.
“That’s two iffin chicks missing, Ross. Where the hell are they?” Fenny whispered.
“Must be behind the other eggs,” Ross replied. He didn’t sound too confident of that assumption. “Come on, let’s make sure.”
Ramya didn’t quite understand. What was there to check? A metal mesh—albeit not too sturdy-looking—surrounded the eggs. Even if a chick or two had hatched, they’d have to be confined within that cage. All was good, wasn’t it? Was she missing something?
“Fenny,” Ramya leaned forward to whisper, “they’re in a cage. It’s all good. Why are we even worrying?”
“Because this is a makeshift cage. Pterostriches are strong creatures capable of . . .” Ross let his words trail off, but Ramya could guess what he meant. They could break out of the cage.
“Why didn’t you put them in a stronger cage then? You knew they were about to hatch.”
Ross stopped and turned to throw an annoyed look at Ramya. “Because we haven’t had the time. We’ve been running from here to there and having to rescue people who get into trouble, and responding to other people who won’t shut up.”
Jab complete, Ross resumed his cautious walk toward the Pterostrich cage. Ramya followed, fuming and frowning behind him. She had only asked a relevant question.
“Or perhaps you’ve been slacking,” she said to Ross’s back. He didn’t turn around or stop, but did he slow just a tad? Good, that meant her retort had its intended effect.
“We just need to make sure they’re all accounted for, kid,” Fenny whispered. “Pterostriches can be wily.”
Dimly illuminated by the flashlight, the gigantic eggs looked ominous. The emptiness that had been spreading at the pit of Ramya’s gut now threatened to suck her from inside like a black hole. The tremble in her fingers had now spread to her teeth, and Ramya gritted them to keep them from chattering accidentally. She didn’t need to give Ross another reason to mock her.
They found the newly hatched chicks, enormous red-beaked monstrosities, sitting behind the unhatched eggs. One of them raised a lethargic head on seeing them. Its eyes were dazed and as shimmery as honey in sunlight. There was something odd about that gaze, or perhaps it was some primeval instinct shining through that made Ramya fidget. She wanted to get away from the birds, as well as from their yet-to-be-born siblings.
“Let’s set up a perimeter while we’re here,” Ross suggested hastily. “Then let’s get out of here.”
“Yes, that iffin bird is giving me the creeps,” Fenny said.
Ramya agreed. They were creepy, especially the way its eyes kept lingering on Ramya.
“You stay here, kid,” Fenny said. “Keep your eyes on the birds and your hand on the trigger. Don’t worry. Ross and I will be back before you blink.”
Both of them walked off to other parts of the hold, their flashlights sweeping the high shelves that lined the walls. Ramya waited, keeping her senses alert but avoided looking at the chicks’ yellow eyes. She tried to forget where she was, but the chilly and stale air wouldn’t let her.
Fenny and Ross returned soon with crates. Fenny pulled out two boxes of dog food from hers and together with Ross she deftly extracted their contents into an oblong plate. Then they placed the plate between the two adjacent bars of the cage and pushed it in.
“Must be hungry, poor things,” Fenny said. Ramya could’ve sworn she detected a whiff of guilt in Fenny’s voice.
Inside the cage, the chicks quickly moved their necks, their unblinking gaze studying the offering. In the next second, they were pecking away hastily at the meat.
“All right, now let’s get started,” Fenny said, beckoning Ramya over to wher
e the crates they’d carried in. One of them contained three battery-powered spot lamps, which Fenny set up swiftly around the cage. The other one had a lot of loose parts, mostly long and black sticks and some wire. Ross pulled out a few and handed them to Fenny who promptly walked over to Ramya.
“These will make the post. Here, see, pass this one”—Fenny twirled the longer of the two sticks—“through this notch in the shorter one, plug it in this base, and there we have a post.”
It didn’t take them long to make sixteen posts. The chicks watched them work, their golden yellow eyes following the humans as they put up the posts around the cage and secured them to the floor with clamps.
“Rami and I can take care of the wires,” Fenny said when the posts were set up. “You get the power.”
Ross nodded and disappeared in the darkness. Ramya and Fenny had almost completed linking the posts with wire when he reappeared, dragging a large box behind him. Quickly, he pulled a pair of thick cables from the box. Ross plugged one end of it into a wall receptacle, and the other he connected with a clamp to the wire fence. Tiny red lights on the posts blinked in unison.
“There, it’s up and running,” Fenny said, observing the lights. “That electric fence should keep the chicks contained until we get the new cage ready.”
“New cage?” Ramya blurted.
Ross’s brows furrowed. “Weren’t you the one accusing us slackers for not making them a stronger cage?”
He had her there. That had been her suggestion. But now, a different question popped into her mind. “How long do you plan to keep them here? You’re not planning to raise them as pets, are you?”
Fenny shrugged. Ross looked disinterested.
“Perhaps before we go anywhere else we should deliver them to whoever had wanted them?” Ramya said, even though she knew her advice was unwanted.
“The Komilahns never buy hatched chicks,” Ross informed with an air of derision, as if everyone in the galaxy was supposed to know that fact. He started gathering the tools scattered on the floor into one of the boxes.
The Last Stryker (Dark Universe Series Book 1) Page 8