Crystal Venom

by Steve Wheeler

  He paused for a second, tapping his wrist screen and saying, ‘Memo: I need to talk to the boss about that ammo. End.’

  He looked around at the crew and continued. ‘OK. The cooling pumps we’ll refit with ours; also need a new computer and the Tech AI is happy to give us some of himself whenever we are ready. There is a massive load of deep scoring under the hull and subsequently about twenty-five per cent of the underside armour is stuffed. We have that being made as well and delivery is about ten hours away. They had class armour as they pinched our Cobra gear and placed another beryllium bronze layer over it. Nice. The camo is actually bonded into the surface, bites in about point two of a millimetre. Have already loaded up the specs on that to the Intel AI. She likes it. More points for us. Having said that she is going nuts trying to figure out what damaged the armour.’

  He paused for a few seconds to look at one of his wrist screens then continued. ‘All she is coming up with is a biological agent. Says she will have some results in a day or so. Like I said, the power plants are sweet, but Glint, I need you and Marko to get into the software on them as there is something there that the AIs can’t ID yet, so give them more raw data. Try not to wreck them, will ya? The figures say the plants are pumping out some seven per cent more usable power than ours are.

  ‘Now, the AG units are both wrecked. That’s the big ticket item. The boss has started negotiations with the Games Board. They like the idea of Mudshark going up against a bunch of our units, but I kind of like the idea of new tech for good or not so good. Or maybe someone has cooked up some interesting punch up to justify the manufacture of this machine. Still, you all know my views on the Games Board as they are getting more and more manipulative to get their stories. Anyway, let’s get on with it. The Base AI stripped all the self-destruct stuff out and the Harpoon has been disengaged so everything has been made safe; that’s what Base says but … be careful, eh. And keep an eye out: we still don’t know why this thing is on this world, so any clues upload ‘em right away. See you all at smoko. Oh, Fritz, the boss wants a report on the Harpoon as soon as you are ready.’

  While Harry had been briefing them they had all quietly powered up their neural spectral links, placing them in their ears. They still wore their headpieces but Base could only hear them if they spoke aloud. Comms now became very fast and seamless, with an interface that linked through Glint; his was always the primary job of laying out the link networks, which he did with his usual speed and efficiency, more often than not helped by the large mechanical spider, Flint, and, when he was around, the cat, Nail. The small self-aligning scales, which would automatically adhere and orient themselves so that their light-based comms systems could operate, seemed to float off Glint as he rounded bends, establishing line-of-sight maser communications throughout Mudshark.

  As they followed him, the usual gossip, news, new music from Fritz and jokes — as gathered by Flint — were uploaded from the seven of them onto their own personal net, completely free of outside interference or snooping. The Base AIs could not hack into it as they knew that Glint had some unique software running through his bulletproof self. Neither Fritz nor Marko could actually get a handle on it either. Fritz said that it was based on his original designs and code but that Glint had taken it to a whole new level. Marko believed that Glint had come up with it himself, but Harry believed that Stephine had given the ACE something. Marko, being a proud dad, still believed that his creation had done it for himself.

  Marko went to his assigned locker and pulled out the coffin-like light engineering suit carrier. He stripped and laid down as it formed itself around him. Leaving the helm off, he caught up with Glint as they made their way onto Mudshark.

  Thinking about it, Marko decided it would be nice to see the wonderfully enigmatic Stephine, and her man Veg, together with her ACE — the cat, Nail — again soon. The crew seemed incomplete when they weren’t around. As soon as they had all arrived at the Base, Stephine and Veg had sent a quick “bye and see you soon’ and disappeared to a remote part of the planet to search out interesting life types in their own ship.

  Everyone had a chuckle as they viewed Glint’s latest exploits as seen through his eyes: a perfect shot of a small piece of bloody mince being deftly deposited on some unfortunate senior staff member’s shiny head as he stepped from the shower.

  ‘So, Glint, what are you really doing with all that nice food now in your new guts? Are you processing it, storing it, turning it into projectiles, or what?’

  ‘Everything actually, Marko. The processing plant is more like the stomach of a tuna fish from Old Earth. Topaz helped me with that and Patrick made the parts. Ernst made some very good suggestions in regards to the linings of my intestines, and also designed the compressing units so I can make my own ammunition for the rifle. Very fast and efficient. I can take energy, trace elements, basically anything I need to function, and can now grow at a much slower more controlled rate than I would normally through my purely mechanical upgrades. I concluded, after talking with the other AIs, that I may as well consume normal human food — I mean, you guys stop all the time for food and fluids — so why not join you for more than just conversation and enjoy myself with new experiences?’

  Marko chuckled as Glint continued. ‘And then I also decided, well, why not fit myself out with the whole package? Did you know that since I installed the taste sensory package my sense of smell is much improved as well? And besides, creator of mine, I can now taste everything for poisons, carcinogens and also what is good and bad for you and everyone in the squad. Jan will be very pleased. Ernst downloaded a huge file about that. You really are quite fragile in some respects, Marko. There are many many compounds that can make you very sick or even kill your biological self. I would have thought that as you are a sentient species you would have addressed those dangers long ago. But as Ernst says, you are only human! Flint is jealous of my changes though. It’s unfortunate that you can do nothing for him.’

  Marko groaned. ‘Yeah, well, you make it all sound like something to look forward to. And Harry wants to keep Flint as compact as possible, so I don’t think we can do anything about that. Don’t go making changes to him by yourself, will you? That would be stepping outside accepted protocols. He can always make the changes should he decide to leave Harry once he has finished his indenture to him. Right, Fritz, can you open up the engine room access, please?’

  ‘Give me a couple of secs, Marko. Having to route everything through the Intel AI. She’s controlling the ship until the new computer arrives in a couple of hours.’

  Marko frowned. ‘Why so long?’

  ‘Nah, it’s just the boss said do everything right. The mercs had a nice compact unit, our closest is 7mm too large so a new case is being made. Ah, there you go, guys, full access.’

  The access door clicked and opened a few millimetres as Marko said, ‘Glint, do your thing.’

  Marko hung back around the corner while Glint slipped in through the large transparent hatchway. As soon as the hatch closed, Marko went up to it and watched as the ACE moved around inside the engine space, looking for any threats.

  ‘Marko, there’s a funny smell in here. Everything scans fine but my databases cannot ID the smell. Uploaded. Intel AI says fish! Why would fish be in here? I should have recognised it. Rotten fish can kill you, you know.’

  ‘Well, Glint, that’s something else for you to experience. Fresh fish dinners! Very nice and yes, rotten fish is nasty so please don’t get any ideas about using it for your set-ups, eh, as that would be taking things one step too far. Anything hazardous to me?’

  ‘Not that I can ID. But go for Contam Protocol anyway.’

  On the bridge of the hovercraft the major was listening and confirmed: ‘Proceed, Marko.’

  Marko nodded, bringing up his suit protocols, which hung as if projected in front of his eyes, and in his mind told the suit what he wanted of it then said, ‘Thanks, boss.’

  Marko placed his carryall on the deck in fr
ont of the hatch, looked down at his suit and smiled, contemplating the excellent equipment. Lightweight, with all the electronics, filters, power supply and self-repairing capability contained in the actual fabric of the suit just as the crew had designed them, based on Veg’s specs. He only had to form the thought to seal it: the gloves folded out over his hands, even his impervious artificial cobalt-blue left one, and all the pockets closed shut while the sleek elegant helmet formed over his head, neatly accommodating his archaic glasses.

  Glint opened the door for him and then closed it as soon as he stepped through the hatchway and walked over to the starboard-side antigravity unit. Glint plugged into it and the data started to flow across Marko’s faceplate as the crew link shared the information. He grimaced looking through the data, deciding that the unit was damaged beyond repair. ‘Harry, the starboard AG unit is stuffed. The casing can be used again but the rest is fried. Readouts say the same about the port-side unit. Specs on the way.’

  They then walked aft with Marko crouching slightly due to the low ceiling lined with electrical conduits and fluid piping to the main power plants. As he looked around, his faceplate automatically translated all the visible readouts, displays and serial numbers for him into his own language. He noted that both generators were in standby mode and producing just enough power to provide heating and lights. He pointed at the main control panel and instructed Glint. ‘OK mate, interface with it.’

  Glint’s right front foot/hand detached completely and walked on fingertips across to the main control unit, climbed it and then extruded a probe from a fingertip into the nearest datalink plug. Marko mused that Glint was a very cautious entity and that he never actually trusted any other AI, with the exception of the Basalt crew. Meanwhile, more data started to flow into Marko’s display as the entire control unit was systematically invaded by Glint’s investigative programs, which had been written by Fritz. The programs flowed through Mudshark’s software, encapsulating the guardware in the equivalent of an electronic blanket, effectively isolating all the safeguards and enabling control. A torrent of data, which was far too much for Marko, started to flow to the Intel AI and onto the other AIs who were watching. Marko thought about it and locked his attention onto the holographic images of the main Bierwage Fusion generator and in particular the fuel feeds for the plasma flux. He started, then exclaimed, ‘Holy crap! Guys, check this out!’

  He could feel everyone pause whatever they were doing and watch as individual atoms of antimatter were slowly fed into the plasma stream.

  The major was the first to reply. ‘Pox! They cracked it! Micro-antimatter injection! Nice. Guys, concentrate on that. The Materials AI wants immediate access. Give it to him.’

  Marko smiled. ‘No sweat, boss, Glint is onto it.’

  Harry’s voice came into the conversation. ‘Class! They built some really high-grade containments in there. Think I’ll come in myself.’

  Marko smiled, knowing his friend’s love of new tech. ‘OK, Harry. I’ll isolate one for you so you can get a close look at it.’

  *

  Two

  Marko continued to analyse the data, identifying specific components, isolating those that were not familiar, and making lists of what needed a closer look. Glint was in a trance-like state, poring through the information and holding a simultaneous conversation with at least eight AIs, including the Orbitals. Marko squatted down beside his carryall, opening it and pulling out various tools in preparation for Harry’s arrival, knowing that he would want to take apart a couple of the more interesting pieces of hardware then and there. As he lay the roll-up of fine tools on the deck, he felt something grasp his left hand and squeeze it very, very hard. Hard enough that if he had had a real hand it would have become paste. Something using chameleon-ware was trying to crush his hand. Marko instantly rotated his fingers and grasped whatever was attacking him, squeezing it hard, feeling it go rocklike. In the same instant, all personal attack protocols in the suit fired up and a tiny pulse laser mapping unit mounted in his helmet scanned the area of threat as identified by the suit; the image of a small, really unpleasant-looking octopoid-type creature came across his helmet display The alarm went out to the squad and Glint moved to Marko’s side with extraordinary speed. His body was becoming straight and rigid, his legs effectively aiming the tip of his tail at Marko’s left fist as it grasped the writhing, incredibly tough creature. The ACE’s head had rotated to the rear and his teardrop-shaped skull had flattened, with his eyes now much wider apart than normal.

  ‘Fuck’s sake, Glint, what are you doing?’

  ‘Stay very still, Marko, and hold that thing as far away from your body as you can.’

  ‘Answer the bloody question, Glint.’

  ‘I want to kill it using the lowest possible setting for my rail gun, but I need a different type of projectile. I will need a few more minutes to create that bullet.’

  ‘Shit, Glint, you’re going to kill me!’

  ‘Shit … yes, that’s right, Marko. But it will not kill you. It will wreck your arm but you can always make another one of those and you have spares anyway. Just be thankful I had breakfast so I can now make shit.’

  Marko could not help himself and started laughing as he considered the position he was in. His son, Glint, was internally making a projectile from shit so that he could kill the octopoid creature at the lowest possible setting of his spinal rail gun, which he knew was twelve hundred metres per second.

  The major’s voice boomed into their heads. ‘Don’t shoot, Glint. The AIs want that thing alive, not blown to a thousand bits and covered in your shit, no matter how hard it is. We will be with you in ten minutes. We have scanned the entire ship and facilities now that we know what we are looking for and have found other small pieces of whatever the hell it is. Hang tight, Marko.’

  ‘Yes, major, sir — just fucking hurry up, will you? This thing is slowly but surely chewing through the outer casing of my hand. It has already destroyed the suit glove and I’ve had to shut down the pain receptors in the hand and wrist.’

  Looking carefully at the creature, he wondered what it was learning of him as its beak-like mouth chewed on the side of his first finger; the tough chitinous material which made the outer sheathing of his hand was slowly being eroded by the constant action of the beak and the accompanying saliva. Marko, fascinated in spite of his situation, ramped up the magnification through his faceplate to study the effect of the saliva on the hand and magnified further to study the beak, wondering what it could be made of to inflict such damage. Harry broke through his contemplation. ‘Hey, you’ve dealt with weirder stuff, Marko. OK, we switch to plan B. Cryno it is. Freeze the sucker hard! Sorry, buddy, you’d probably need a new hand anyway if we have to hard chill it. With you in a couple of minutes.’

  Two of Glint’s hands walked over, linked together and then climbed up Marko with one hand gripping tightly onto his forearm while the other grappled with the flailing beast, pulling its tentacles off his flesh and wrapping them together. Marko watched as data uplinked from the hand that investigated the creature’s makeup through tactile and sensory pads. The alien suddenly reacted to Glint’s hands and tried to bite them, always meeting air as it lunged and snapped with Glint’s reaction time creating a blur of motion.

  The door opened and Harry and the major walked in wearing full combat suits, sealed, and carrying a squat container between them with Caution bio-hazard. Liquid Nitrogen warnings on the sides.

  ‘OK, Marko? Nice that we have a great workshop to play in, eh?’ said a smiling major.

  Marko hated rhetorical questions, so he just grunted in reply as the major continued. ‘Right, Glint, everything indicates that this was once a squid-like creature. Its entire molecular structure is chain-linked, in that the structure is double or even triple bonded into itself which is why it’s so bloody tough. There is no other bio or electronic hazard present. Well, not one we can identify. You can disengage your hands and take them back, Glint, as Marko
lowers it into the cryno. All the way to the bottom, mate. We want to know if it will freeze. In your own time.’

  ‘Cygnus 5 all over again maybe?’ Harry queried.

  Marko shook his head. ‘Bloody hell, I sure hope not. That was nasty. We’ll know soon enough once we know what this is.’

  As Marko lowered his arm past the lip of the container, Glint’s hands jumped onto the floor. The creature’s tentacles shot outwards, grasped the edge and hung on. Harry reached over as Marko struggled to push the creature further in and pushed down hard on his upper arm while Glint, with his hands reattached, came forwards and pried the tentacles off the edge. Marko’s arm and the creature suddenly sank down into the liquid nitrogen, some of which splashed up onto their suits causing Glint to shake vigorously to ensure that none stuck to his coat. The creature was tough, thrashing around for the best part of ten seconds before going solid.

  ‘Can’t get the arm out, guys: it’s no longer responding. Disconnecting. That’s a pissoff. That was the original forearm and hand we made on Basalt after I lost my arm to that shitty urchin! That’s just plain annoying as it’s probably a complete write off. Bloody hell, that is one amazingly tough little critter! We’d better spec up all our munitions if we ever want to go up against them.’

  Marko raised what remained of his left arm, now terminating at the elbow, as the suit also detached that part of itself and sealed across the artificial stump. Harry slammed the lid closed and latched it down. Marko looked at the sealed container. ‘Better start work on a new hand to the same specs as everyone knows what that one looks like. That will cost.’

  The Base AI suddenly answered. ‘We will assist you with a replacement as soon as we can, Warrant Officer Spitz, and we shall pick up the tab.’