The mining concession manager paused to collect his thoughts. Ultimately, he was responsible. All the people on the planet relied on him not only for jobs and income, but also to watch out for them, keep them safe, keep them alive. He had been outsmarted, made a fool of, and they were all paying the price now. “Next thing I know, I wake up, we’re all in the dining hall, no e-suits, doors locked, access walkways sliced open, radios and computers disabled. Their shuttle lifted off, and they left this jerk here. Real sweetheart, this one. We ask him for anything, medicine, you name it, he tells us to shut up, says we’ll all be dead soon, so what’s the difference?” Yomuri’s fists clenched at his side. He would love to punch the pirate right in his face. He turned toward Nelson before his anger got the better of him. “Did he tell you what this is all about?”
“Only that they were hired, by who he doesn’t know, to steal something off our ship. He says he doesn’t know what it is, and I believe him.” Nelson said, looking Mac straight in the eye. “This one’s too stupid to be told anything important, he’s just muscle. And disposable. My guess is, that pirate ship is going to leave him here.”
“No they’re not! They’re coming down here to pick me up, and they’ve got missiles-“ Mac’s shouting was interrupted by a hard backhand across the face from one of the miners.
“You,” Yomuri said menacingly, “keep your mouth shut, unless we ask you a question. You’re right, Nelson, this one looks like he’s got the brainpower of a rock. Listen up, smart guy, I’ll give you something to think about, if you can wrap your brain around something simple. You’re alive only as long as we think you might be useful. If any pirate shuttle comes down here to pick you up, all they’re going to find is your body outside, that’s a promise from me. Now, do you have anything more to say? Like who you’re working for, or what’s going on up there?”
Mac worked his lips side to side, and blood trickled down his chin. He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it, and shook his head no, staring defiantly at Yomuri.
One of the miners stepped forward. “If he’s got nothing more to say, can we throw him out the airlock now?” He snarled in Mac’s direction.
Nelson stepped forward, then waited for Yomuri to speak. This was Yomuri's mining camp, Nelson was a visitor. Yomuri looked torn, trying to decide. Then he straightened up and shook his head. “No. Not yet. I think it’s better if he stays right here until the Navy arrives. They’ll find out who he’s working for, I’m certain of that. Then he can spend the next fifty years staring at the walls of a prison cell.” Yomuri walked over to Mac and put his hand around the pirate’s throat. “Every time I’m sipping a nice twenty year old scotch, or relaxing on a beach somewhere, or every time I’m enjoying the company of a woman, I’ll be thinking of you, alone in your cold little cell. You think about that.” Yomuri released the pirate with a disgusted look. “Take him away. Lock him in a storage closet for now, until I figure out a better place to put him. But nobody touches him, you hear me?”
The miners grumbled but obeyed, leading Mac away none to gently. Now Nelson did speak up. “Mr. Yomuri,” he figured addressing the mining manager with respect would help the man’s bruised ego, and make things go more smoothly, “sir, I think we need to check out your life support equipment as soon as possible. My men are experts.” He neglected to mention that Rick was an expert at xenoarcheology.
“Yes, that is a priority. You, Tilden,” he gestured to a miner, “show these men to the life support center.” Yomuri pointed out the window. “It’s the tall orange building over there, next to the crawler garage. Thanks for your help, by the way, we were too busy earlier to properly thank you. I’d offer you a drink, but that jerk either drank, or smashed, all my good liquor bottles.” It looked like the manager considered that almost to be Mac’s greatest sin. “When this is all over, I promise you a rain check on that drink, for sure.”
Nelson thought of something. “Hey, you said you scoped out the pirates’ ship when it arrived? Can we use your equipment to see what’s going on above us?”
“Ah, I wish we could, all we had was a simple telescope at I kept in my office. They smashed it, I’m sorry. Did you have any luck with the radio?”
Nelson frowned. “No. Your radio is working fine, they left that alone. It’s still being jammed. Your hyperwave, they did smash that.”
“Huh. I’ll have one of my guys monitor the radio, in case they drop the jamming.” Yomuri offered sympathetically. Nelson was not comforted.
CHAPTER 15
Valjean stopped, his senses alert to danger. The door at the end of this compartment was closed. All the other doors were open, why was this one closed? Probably something stupid Dooley had done, or forgotten to do. The sooner Valjean was done with Dooley’s services, the sooner he could ditch him and his robot. Dooley had been useful so far, but Valjean didn’t plan on splitting the money with Dooley. Or with anyone. He looked over at Taney, who was waiting, his back to Valjean, covering his boss. Taney was a good man to have in a fight. And Taney carried the explosives, and knew how to use them. That didn’t mean Valjean needed Taney much longer, either. Valjean jerked his head to the side. “Detour,” he said, out of breath. Valjean wanted to reach the aft end of the cargo compartment before the children could get there, he and Taney had been running full speed. Or, running at Valjean’s full speed, as Taney wasn’t even breathing hard. They had halted several times, to listen when they heard roaring sounds. Valjean had decided it was most likely something the children were sending over the intercom, intended to frighten the pirates. He had news for them; he wasn’t scared.
“What is that noise?” Dooley whispered, waving his gun around. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. The sound was unnerving, like a wild animal. Dooley couldn’t figure what, aboard a starship, could make a noise like that. Maybe the children were playing a recording intended to scare him. He had news for them; the sound was scaring him. Dooley slowed to a stop. They had been trotting, rather than running, following Valjean’s plan for him and Taney to get ahead, and then flush the children back toward Dooley and his robot. “Rocko?”
The robot turned its armored head toward him. “My database cannot identify the sound. The closest equivalent is a wild animal of some type, a predator.”
“Oh.” Dooley had already figured that’s what the sound was. “Artificial, or natural?”
“I cannot determine what is generating the sound.”
A natural source was improbable, Dooley knew, being as they were on a ship in orbit. Knowing a fact, however, and feeling it in your gut, believing it, were two very different things, Dooley reflected. “We’ll move, a little slower, from now on.” If there were anything dangerous ahead, let Valjean and Taney find it first.
Kaylee’s forearms were cramping from hanging onto the ladder, the bottom of her feet hurt, where the narrow rungs dug into her soles. Tino or not, she needed to climb down. Their plan was in tatters. A tino now had the box, it could be anywhere by now. She had no idea where the pirates were. And there was no way she was going aft, where the tinos had gone, towards the hatch she was supposed to use for her escape. She dithered, trying to make up her mind.
She would climb down, at least. Then, at the bottom, she could decide. When she got to the bottom, she waited, straining to hear in the semi-darkness. There were sounds, probably tinos, off to the right, toward the back of the ship, where the tinos had gone. Maybe she would just go to the forward end of the compartment.
Once there, she was still undecided, so she walked slowly forward, creeping along to one side, until she got halfway, then she burst into a run and raced out the door at the other end. She skidded to a stop, holding onto the door frame. There was a sound again, this time, not behind her? She couldn’t tell, exactly, sounds echoed so much in the cargo pod. There was no choice now, she had to go forward. Her brother was waiting, one way or another. She tightened the straps of her backpack, which was now considerably less bulky. A roar spurred her into action
, and she ran in the only direction she was sure the roaring sound hadn’t come from: forward, and to the left.
Dooley skidded to a stop, frozen in place by a roar that made his blood run cold. It was close, whatever it was. He leaped to the side, and put his back to the wall next to the door, holding his pistol up in front of him, his heart racing. With his other hand, he gestured for Rocko to take the other side. Dooley took a deep breath to get his courage up, crouched, and spun around the door frame-
And collided with Kaylee, who was running as fast as she could. Both humans crashed to the ground, and Dooley’s gun went flying off into the darkness, lost among the crates. Pirate and girl were both so startled that for a split second both they sat, sprawled on the deck, and gaped at each other uncomprehendingly. Dooley recovered first, holding onto the door frame as he scrambled to his feet. Shouting his own cry of anger, he launched himself at the girl.
With a display of lithe athleticism that would have made her school gymnastics teacher proud, Kaylee leapt to her feet in one smooth motion. The pirate was coming toward her, arms outstretched, so she reacted as she was taught in self-defense class at Cesar Chavez Junior High School. She pointed her right toes forward, and kicked the pirate in the crotch with all her might.
Dooley went down like a sack of potatoes. Not a sound came out of his mouth, he was unable to speak, even to breathe. His eyes and mouth wide open in shock, he curled up in a ball on the deck, immobile.
The kick had thrown Kaylee off balance, she staggered sideways, windmilling her arms until her feet were solidly planted beneath her. She felt her back bump up against something, and then something seized her arms.
Kaylee looked up in surprise at the combat robot that had taken hold of her. Its eyes, glowing faintly orange, bored into her. She opened her mouth to scream, but only a whimper came out. Twisting her body in an attempt to get free was futile, the robot was immensely strong.
As suddenly as she was seized, it let go of her. “Are you injured, young Miss?” It asked.
“N-no.” Kaylee answered warily, rubbing her left arm, which was bruised from the robot's crushing grip.
“Be careful, young Miss.” It advised in a gentle tone.
“You’re not going to hurt me?” She stole a glance at the downed pirate, who was now rocking back and forth on the deck, his breath coming in great, choking sobs.
“No, but these men will. I suggest you leave this area immediately.”
With one last look at her surprise benefactor, Kaylee spun on her heels and ran away. The robot watched her with its infrared vision until she turned a corner, and was out of sight.
Dooley managed to stagger onto hands and knees, where he made a retching sound, deep in his throat, and then barfed up his last meal onto the deck. He spat to clear his mouth, and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. Rocko strode over and helped him to his feet. “What the, what the hell is wrong with you?” Dooley gasped. “You let her get away!” Had the robot not acted because Dooley hadn’t specifically ordered it to hold onto the girl? Stupid machine! “Go after her, I’ll follow you.”
“No.”
Dooley didn’t know what to say, or do. Machines didn’t say ‘no’! There were things they couldn’t do, but not things they wouldn’t do. Dooley was already in a very bad mood. “Command override-“ he started to say.
“Command refused.” The robot interrupted him, stepping closer to loom over the human. “I will not harm children. And I will not allow you to harm children.”
There was another roaring sound, closer, Dooley turned to peer into the darkness. The robot would surely protect him from, whatever was coming toward him. He looked up into the glowing eyes, his mind racing. If he could shut the robot down, and run through the restart sequence, maybe he could fix it. “Something’s coming.” He pleaded. "Do something."
"Do something? I will provide advice." The robot was unmoved. It leaned forward, so that its armored face was close, and looked Dooley directly in the eye. “Running would probably be your best course of action at the present time.”
Dooley was so thrown off balance by Rocko’s betrayal that he didn’t wait to see if the robot was joking. With a sob, he turned to limp away as fast as he could, bent over and shuffling his feet. Another roaring sound, this one very close, spurred him onward.
Rocko watched the tino approach, the animal was vividly visible in the infrared spectrum. It moved in great, bounding strides across the deck, coming straight at the robot. Tinos, too, could see in the infrared spectrum, it was how they hunted at night. And, beyond Rocko, it saw Dooley. This prey was moving slowly, staggering, injured. An easy kill. First, though, there was this other strange creature. The tino halted, ten meters from Rocko. It sniffed the air. It did not recognize this scent. What was this thing, which looked so much like its prey?
Its belly almost touching the deck, the tino padded quietly forward. There was something wet and fragrant on the deck, smelling vaguely like its prey. With one eye on the robot, the tino licked the puddle of vomit Dooley had left on the deck. Things did not taste good or bad to tinos, they tasted edible, or inedible. This was at least sort of edible, and it lapped it up, smacking its tough lips in a disgusting display. The robot did not move, even when the tino pressed its nose directly at it and sniffed the robot’s leg.
Dooley saw the tino. He didn’t know what it was, other than that it was massive. And fast. In the dim lighting it looked like an oversize tiger. Even if he weren’t half doubled over in pain, he wouldn’t be able to outrun the beast. Dooley thought fast. Could he get through the door at the end of the compartment, use his notepad to close and lock-
His notepad. He’d dropped it, back there, along with his gun. Hide. He needed to hide. Dooley turned toward the first crate he could reach, turned the latch, and popped it open. The crate was full of what looked like clothing, in vacuum-packed bags. He put both hands on the side of the crate, and with a desperate heave, he tipped it over, spilling the contents onto the deck. Frantically, with one eye on the tino, he pulled the remaining clothing out.
The tino finished sniffing the robot. Whatever this thing was, the tino decided, it wasn’t edible, dangerous, or a rival. The robot moved, and the tino jumped backwards with a menacing growl.
Rocko put its arms across its chest, fingers pointed in both directions. “He went that way,” the robot said.
The tino didn’t understand pointing gestures. Its nose was not confused, and it had Dooley’s scent. It claws skittered and scraped on the deck as it bounded off toward the pirate.
Dooley got the crate emptied, and pushed it back upright, just as the tino sprang at him. The pirate hopped into the box, and swung the lid closed a second before the tino hit the crate, bowling it over. The lid cracked open, and Dooley experienced a flash of panic, grasping in the dark at the inside of the lid, trying to pull it closed, then the crate was upside down, and the lid slammed closed, as Dooley tumbled to land on his head and shoulders.
The tino roared in frustration, swatting at the crate, raking it with its claws, biting at the corners. It was no use. The material the crate was made of was tough, very tough, designed to last for half a century of less than gentle handling. And even a tino’s incredibly powerful jaws could not penetrate the box, its teeth slipped, finding no purchase on the smooth surface. Its teeth slipped one last time, and the jaws snapped closed, nipping the tino’s tongue. The animal backed away, flicking its tongue in its mouth, annoyed by the sharp pain, studying the cargo box.
Rocko watched the tino, not with amusement, or any sense of satisfaction, since Rocko was a machine. Perhaps there were subroutines that were fulfilled, parameters which were exactly within specifications, and there is a sort of satisfaction in that, for machines.
The tino stopped licking its lips, and sniffed the air, then the deck. The prey in the crate was forgotten, now that it was inaccessible. The scent of the prey it was originally tracking was still strong. It sniffed the air again, then took off
at a loping run.
Rocko watched the tino run away. Running in the same direction Kaylee had gone. The tino stopped, sniffed the deck, and took the same turn Kaylee had taken, tracking the girl.
Kaylee pressed her right hand into her side, where she was getting a cramp. Her collision with the pirate had thrown off her stride, her breathing was labored, and her legs felt like she was running through shallow water. Never in her life had she run so far without a break. Soccer games didn’t count, she had always been able to get at least a bit of rest during a game. Soccer games didn’t involve being chased by a tino.
The tino had fallen silent, which unnerved her more than hearing it roar. Her neck hurt from constantly glancing behind her in fear.
What was that? A shadow, moving behind her. Tino! She caught a glimpse of light reflecting off wet teeth. Kaylee half turned to get a better look, and stumbled, falling against a crate. She pushed herself off the crate to run, and the tino was right there, charging down the compartment, its mouth open, fangs exposed. It gathered itself and sprang through the air at her. Kaylee heard herself scream.
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