Scrapyard Ship

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Jason now realized that these cauldrons were actually more like giant cooking grills. He scanned the room. Obviously, these meal times were part of some kind of religious ceremony. A repeating mantra had begun and droned in the background. Each of the Craing stopped and lowered his head, as if in reverence or submission. Jason watched and wondered if they were praying to the lizard statue in the center of the room.

  "Captain, you seeing this shit?" Billy hissed, over his comms.

  "Yeah, I'm seeing it," Jason replied, still mesmerized by the scene.

  “So these are the aliens that are terrorizing the universe? I just don’t get it, Cap.”

  A loud cracking noise, what sounded like snapping twigs or small bones being broken, echoed around the large chamber. The Craing suddenly turned and faced the forward bulkhead in unison, and bowed several times in rapid succession. When the sound came again, in unison they all turned forty-five degrees to face another bulkhead and bowed again. They did this a total of four times—north, south, east, and west—giving homage to whatever or whomever. Eventually, the strange sounds stopped and the Craing returned to their meals.

  The caldrons around the chamber hissed and splattered as pieces of meat were thrown onto the grills. One of these flashes illuminated the open areas above. Looking up, Jason saw what looked like little fenced-in alcoves. Jason looked down at the eating area and then back up at the surrounding four vertical walls, filled with alcoves and long encircling catwalks. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he’d already put the pieces together. That the alcoves above were actually cages and that the pieces of meat on the cauldron grills were human arms, legs, and even a side of human ribs. Moans and screams had been filtering down from above all along. But that was nothing compared to his most recent realization. Somewhere, way off in the distance, high up above, he could hear the familiar Boom Boom Pow ringtone. Nan’s cell phone.

  Ricket must have configured the Craing AI to forward cell calls. Jason took a slow deep breath. It was all he could do to keep himself from shooting every one of these barbaric Craing right here and now. Jason looked back to his team; four dimly lit faces stared back, with gaping jaws and wide eyes. They had each set their HUD displays to piggyback onto Jason’s. They’d seen exactly what he had seen.

  Jason hailed Billy. “Let’s get these…what ever the hell they are, rounded up and secured. They don’t seem to be armed. Have Cougar team prepare a mock brig back in the hold area.”

  “You got it, Cap,” Billy replied.

  Both Lion and Bear teams rushed in simultaneously, with weapons aimed at the Craing’s heads. The unarmed, near naked Craing turned this way and that. Astonished to see their vessel infiltrated, without warning, the small aliens scurried around frantically. Jason thought it strange—the act of raising one’s hands must be the universal sign of submission. Each of the startled Craing crew was ushered out into both side corridors. An alarm klaxon sounded. That same dreadful sound Jason had heard near the scrapyard.

  “Captain to Ricket,” Jason said.

  “Go for Ricket,” the mechanical man came back. “Captain! I’ve made cell phone connection to…”

  Jason cut him off, “Yes, I know what you’ve done. I heard the phone ringing. Is she all right, is she hurt?”

  “I do not know. She did not answer. But the phone is located on deck nine right above your current location,” Ricket said.

  “I’m investigating. What’s going on with The Lilly?” Jason asked, finding it nearly impossible to concentrate.

  “Shields are now operational. Orion says the weapons are still down, but she’s making good headway.”

  Jason ran for the nearest of the four lifts, surprised by the archaic slide-up metal gate and exposed cables and its old-fashioned pulley system above. After several tries he figured out the control lever and the lift slowly began to rise. The lift itself was coated with a splattering of a sticky-syrupy mixture of congealed blood and God knew what else. The second deck came into view through the metal mesh gate. The cages here were empty; only an occasional piece of torn off flesh, an odd finger, or an errant tuft of hair remained, stuck fast in the rough metal flooring.

  Decks three through seven were a repeat of the same: empty cages and just as disgusting. Jason tried to keep his mind from venturing too far toward hopelessness and the growing possibility that Nan had recently been dismembered, carved up, and grilled on an open flame below. His stomach turned, and he fought the urge to retch. The lift was coming up to floor eight and immediately things looked different. Complete bodies, stationary, some sprawled out on cage floors, obviously dead. Others stripped down and partially dismembered. In a cage off to the right Jason saw a familiar shape. An aluminum walker. Two florescent-green tennis balls still secured to its front legs. Jason’s mind flashed back to Nan helping an elderly man across the desert, as they were ushered into the alien ship. This ship. Rolling carts, similar to hotel maid’s carts, were positioned down the catwalk in front of several of the cages.

  The closest had an assortment of tools and cutlery—a strange type of saw lay atop a bloody cutting board with congealed blood and tissue, still wet. The carnage was horrific. Jason wanted to pull his eyes away but couldn’t. The lift was coming up on the ninth floor. Again, more bodies. Movement now. At least some of the people on this floor were still alive. All hog-tied, with their hands and feet secured tightly behind their backs. Faces looked out from behind the bars of cages with fearful eyes. Louder now, it repeated, Boom Boom Pow. Jason turned his head from side to side to get a better fix on its location. The lift came to a stop and he rammed the lift gate open. He turned left and ran down the catwalk, listening for the phone. Surprised faces watched him run past.

  “Hang on. You’re safe now. I’ll be back.” Jason repeated these heartening words over and over again as he ran down the catwalk, making sure he made eye contact and looked as reassuring as possible. The cell phone ringing got quieter. Jason backtracked, slowing to a walk. He looked in each of the cages, one-by-one, where terrified eyes stared back at him.

  He found Nan’s cage. Back in the corner was a woman, not moving. Her hair covered her face. Jason pulled on the cage door. It was locked. He stepped back to assess the lock. Like the lift, it was a simple, old-fashioned mechanism. Positioned on the catwalk, out of arm’s reach, was a release lever. He pulled it and the door released with a loud clang. Jason flung the door open and rushed to the woman’s side. She stirred. Carefully, Jason moved the hair from her face and with both hands cradled Nan’s scratched and bruised face. Her eyes opened halfway and then went wide. Realizing he still had his helmet on, he used one hand to disengage its front latch and pulled the helmet over and off his head. Then, carefully, he pulled the gag away from her mouth. He kissed her forehead.

  “You’re safe now, you’re OK,” Jason said, to reassure her.

  Staring back at him in disbelief, Nan tried to talk, but started coughing instead. She swallowed, tried again, “Get me the fuck out of here, Jason!” she screamed. Jason almost smiled.

  “OK, OK… let me free your hands and feet.” Looking behind her, he realized he’d need a key for the metal shackles. “I have to leave you just a quick—”

  “Don’t you dare leave me here, for God sakes, Jason, please don’t leave me here!”

  “I’m just getting a key. I’ll be right back.” Jason kissed the back of her head, ran from the cage and headed off down the catwalk to one of the carts parked at the far end of the floor. He saw more terrified expressions and heard muffled cries for help. This cart was relatively clean. The Craing tools-of-the-trade were still lined up on its metal cutting board. Jason, near frantic now, looked for the keys. He pulled open its cabinet-like doors and rifled through more cutting implements, letting them fall to the deck plates with a clang. Frustrated, he moved back up to the top shelf, where those items ended up on the floor as well. Finally, he found them hanging from the push-handle, swinging from a thin chain. He yanked it free and ran back toward Nan
’s cage.

  As if she’d been holding her breath, Nan exhaled and relaxed, somewhat, when Jason was back at her side. As he worked the lock, Nan looked back over her shoulder, “How’s Mollie? Oh God, Jason, tell me she’s all right.”

  “She’s perfectly fine. You’ll see her soon.”

  Jason got the lock open. He gently opened the shackles on her wrists and ankles and threw them on the cage floor. Slowly, Nan straightened her legs and pulled her arms back around. Relief spread across her face. “Thank you, Jason, I didn’t think I’d ever—” Nan pulled him into her arms and buried her face in his shoulder. Her tears turned to sobs, her body shook uncontrollably. Eventually, she looked up and kissed Jason on the mouth. Slowly, she pulled away and tried to stand. Off balance at first, she managed to stand upright. “Oh my God, turn around,” she said.

  “What do you mean, turn around?” Jason replied, not understanding.

  “Just turn around. I’ve got to pee, Oh, my god, I’ve got to pee!”

  Jason turned around and heard the sound of urine hitting the side of a metal bucket. He checked in with The Lilly.

  “Go for XO.”

  “What’s the status on the rest of the Craing ship—they obviously know we’re here?”

  “Captain, they’ve cordoned off this deck from the rest of the ship. Our sensors indicate there are still another hundred Craing on board that we’ll need to contend with. Also, Admiral Crawford came through with additional troops, but the Craing are shooting at anything that moves out there. So we’re on our own ‘till we take out their weapons.” Just then Orion hailed Jason.

  “Go ahead, Gunny.”

  “Weapons are back up, Cap.”

  “Excellent! XO tells me that Admiral Cramer delivered on her promise and is standing by with a company of SEALs. So we need to do something about the Craing’s onboard weapons. Is there any way The Lilly can target them from inside the hold?”

  “From inside this ship? Are you serious?”

  “Of course, I’m serious. Yes or no?” Jason barked.

  “I guess… yes, that shouldn’t be a problem. Give me a few minutes to figure it out though.”

  When Jason turned around Nan was buttoning her pants. “You OK to walk,” he asked, putting an arm around Nan’s waist and carefully helping her take a few steps.

  “I think I can walk, I’m alright.”

  In front of her cage on the catwalk was a procession of other released prisoners. Jason’s team was already ushering them to the lifts. Five at a time were being moved below to the bottom deck. In the distance, Jason heard weapons begin firing, then a hail from Gunny.

  “What do you have, Gunny,” Jason asked her, into his NanoCom.

  “I’m working with Ricket on the best way to target the Craing weapons. I’ll need a few more minutes on that.”

  “Good work, Gunny.”

  Jason and Nan reached the lift and shuffled on with three other women captives. As the lift made its way downward, they looked up at him, each with tears in their eyes. An elderly woman mouthed the words “thank you,” reached up and gently touched Jason’s face. When the lift came to a stop, Jason pulled open the lift gate and helped everyone out, moving them past the Craing meal hall, and into the far corridor. Jason watched as Nan’s eyes locked onto the fiery caldron grills and then looked up, into his eyes. She knew exactly what they were, what they were used for. Jason’s team had assembled their Craing prisoners outside the large chamber, but everyone was moving into the corridor. Too high off the ground to escape, they sat along bulkheads in groups and were provided water.

  “I want to get you onto The Lilly, so you can see Mollie and get cleaned up. How’s that sound?” Jason asked, as the two of them continued down the corridor.

  “That’s fine. I don’t know what The Lilly is, but just get me out of here.”

  Chapter 13

  When Nan entered the captain’s suite, Mollie screamed and ran into her mother’s open arms, almost bowling her over.

  “Mom, I missed you so much.”

  “I missed you too, sweetie,” Nan said, stroking Mollie’s hair.

  “I wanted to be a big girl, for Dad and everyone, but it was really hard.”

  “I’m so proud of you, Mollie. You are a big girl.”

  As they hugged in the Captain’s ready room, Jason rushed back to his bedroom to collect some of his things. He’d put Nan there so she could be closer to Mollie, and he’d bunk in one of the officer’s open quarters. Long term, he wasn’t sure if Nan would want to stay on board or not, but for the time being, this was the safest place for both her and Mollie. Jason arrived back in the ready room with arms loaded up with his officer’s jumpsuits, his old backpack, and assorted odds and ends.

  “Jason, I’m not kicking you out of your room…” Nan said, with a furrowed brow.

  “I’ll be right next door. This way you’re with Mollie. Hey, I’m in and out—crazy hours.”

  Earlier, on their way into the ship, Jason had given Nan an overview of The Lilly, and what had transpired over the past few days. When he mentioned the part about landing the ship in the Pentagon courtyard Nan stopped him with, “You did what? You landed this spaceship at the Pentagon? Who’d do that sort of thing?” she spat. After some explaining, she almost understood his reasoning, but not completely; especially the fact that Mollie had been on board during the whole escapade. Jason told her his father was still alive and leading the United Planetary Alliance, and about the impending attack by the quickly-approaching Craing fleet.

  Mollie was still talking a mile a minute, and Nan looked exhausted.

  “Mollie, let’s give your mother some time to get cleaned up and rest,” Jason said, pulling his ex-wife to her feet and leading her to the back bedroom. “Washroom’s in there. The bed’s surprisingly comfortable. I’d like to have you checked out in Medical when you’re up to it as well. If you need to talk—you know… about your whole ordeal—”

  “Thank you, Jason.” She pulled Jason closer, so Mollie couldn’t hear. “I was unconscious during some of it. When I woke, it was so awful. I heard their screams. Jason, they cut these people up—alive. I knew I’d be next. I kept waiting for that cart to pull up in front of my cage.” Nan headed for the washroom, turned and looked back at him before closing the door.

  Jason turned and headed for the door. “Can you watch over her, Kiddo?” Jason asked, looking over at Mollie.

  “I’ll take good care of her, Dad.”

  * * *

  Jason made it back to the bridge just as Orion and Ricket had begun targeting the Craing weaponry systems. An elaborate virtual representation of the Craing ship, with targeting vectors crisscrossing in multiple directions, was displayed with bright yellow lines.

  “What’s the status on taking out their weapons, Gunny?”

  “Just making sure we don’t kill ourselves in the process—or take out crucial Craing systems. We’re going under the assumption you’ll still want this ship to be operational once we’ve taken her.”

  Ricket looked up from the console and said, “The biggest problem is keeping the Craing bridge intact, as well as these two primary drive systems, here and here,” he said, pointing up to their locations on the wrap-around display. Jason had a hard time concentrating on what the mechanical man was saying having just encountered the Craing—of which Ricket was clearly the same species.

  “But we think we have it. Short micro-bursts using our four plasma cannons, which will give us a wider selection of shooting angles,” Ricket said, already back at work at his console.

  “How about the Craing crewmembers being held in our makeshift brig, and the released captives still out in the corridor?” Jason asked concerned.

  “As of right now the targeting vectors don’t put anyone in a direct line of fire,” Orion said, “that is unless someone moves.”

  “Go ahead, Gunny, fire when ready,” Jason commanded, taking a seat in the command chair. Displayed in red, the four plasma cannons snappe
d into position on The Lilly’s outer hull. The gimbal-mounted cannons immediately started to rotate, track and then lock onto their pre-programmed targets. The cannons started to fire in unison; bright red vectors overlapped the yellow ones indicating the new shooting solutions. Within thirty seconds the firing stopped.

  “Weapons destroyed, Captain,” Orion said, a confident smile on her face.

  “Nice work, Gunny, you’ve redeemed yourself from blowing up that mountain yesterday.” This brought chuckles from the other crewmembers. Jason looked up at the virtual display, still hovering above their heads. “Gunny, other than the ones we’ve taken prisoner—can you display the positions of the Craing—those on other decks?” Jason asked, the seed of an idea forming.

  “Here you go. Craing are represented by the orange symbols now displayed throughout the ship on decks two through ten.”

  “Is there a way to target them without blasting through the outer hull?” Jason asked, looking from Orion, then to Ricket, and then over to his XO. Both Perkins and Orion shrugged, not sure. But Ricket’s expression seemed to convey there was a possibility.

  “Not everyone on those decks could safely be targeted. Not without destroying engineering and bridge sub-systems. But certainly here, here and here would be no problem.” Jason looked on as Ricket drew virtual circles around various areas on the ship diagram. “That’s approximately ninety-three percent of the Craing crew.”