Marko shunted all the remaining hydraulics into getting the guns snug against the ship’s body again as the starboard ammo feed failed completely. He equalised the power to the starboard AG unit and fired up the main hover fans as their craft sank closer to the surface. The major was yelling at Base for immediate air support, and if possible bombardment from the Orbitals. The Games Board were, of course, countering the requests, citing that the crew’s predicament made for really good AV. The Games Board monitors seemed to be smiling at everything, to say nothing of the bandwidth they were hogging while they uploaded the action.
The Intel AI proxy had disappeared from the rear deck as there were no more larger octopoids to engage and seconds later Marko watched as it powered out of the hangar with the now battered octopoid in tow and Glint still attached, dragonlike, biting deeply down into its head. The octopoid was flung sideways into their slipstream as an obviously protesting Glint was unceremoniously seized by a leg and dragged off the creature by the proxy who, with its full flight systems engaged, looked like an avenging angel towing the devil’s own hound. The sight obviously delighted the Games Board monitors as one of them actually laughed, something Marko had heard only very rarely.
Marko’s control board was, if anything, getting worse. The port-side weapon was no longer moving towards the body of their ship. Jan was still engaging as many targets as possible with it, including some rather nice shooting blowing the smaller alien creatures off the housings of Mudshark. He was trying to get the starboard ammo feed sorted while balancing the craft at the same time, but it was no use. They still had a dangerous list to port, and at their current speed there was no way they could make a safe transition to full hovercraft surface mode. The only good thing was that fewer octopoids were presenting themselves on the surface.
Marko made his assessments. ‘Boss, we have to lose the port-side gun assembly. Starboard one is offline, although the Tech AI says he needs five minutes to sort it with Glint’s help, and requests Flint as well. In four minutes we will impact the surface anyway.’
The major, who was still wrestling with the controls, barked out, ‘Lose it!’
Jan yelled in response. ‘Give me five seconds, Marko!’
She fed commands to the pod and stopped the ammo feeds as Marko engaged and then fired the cut-away charges when she nodded at him, the whole assembly dropping and spinning away to clip the port outer thruster with the resulting bang felt right through the ship. The craft now rolled until it was only a few degrees off the horizontal.
‘Rigged for surface operations, pilot,’ Marko said.
‘Stand by, stand by, gun pod detonation in five seconds,’ Jan called.
The major smiled, thinking what an excellent crew he had. ‘OK Jan, nice work, that will sort out some of those bloody things at least.’
The sea hundreds of metres behind them suddenly heaved as the rail guns were deliberately electronically overloaded some twenty metres down under the water.
‘Transitioning to surface. What can you give me, Marko?’
‘Basically full hover, sir. The fuel feeds can now be augmented with the sea water. Will be a dirty oxygen/hydrogen catalytic cracking, but considering we will be with friendlies soon, I hope, the converters will hold out. I can now also cool the port-side AG unit and hopefully get that back online. Best speed in our current state is seventy-five kilometres per hour. Glint reports that the starboard ammo feeds have been further damaged by small octopoids. They may be able to get one single gun operational within fifteen minutes.’
The major nodded and turned to Jan. ‘Status?’
‘The surviving probes have either been recovered, or are covering the Gjomvik sub. The pilot has been identified as Squadron Leader Eva Marks. Intel considers her an important capture, as she is a senior member of Leopard Strike and is their Intel analyst. She is currently in sick bay, unconscious. The octopoid came very close to killing her. She is stabilised but needs major reconstruction work on her skull and upper body.
‘We are down to having thirty per cent functional craft Orbital sentries. Most other weapons are expended. The AI proxies are both functioning, but seriously damaged, and Glint has lost part of his tail. The proxies and Glint are removing the last of the octopoids remains. So if we go up against anything over the next eighty-five standard minutes we have very little to fight with.’
The major gave her a smile. ‘Please assist with octopoid removal, thanks, Staff. Good work. Fritz, what have you got to add?’
The little man was still totally immersed in his systems but, as they watched, one of his slim hands reached up inside the dome surrounding his head to scratch his hairless pate.
‘Primary communications are fine, but the main aerials are damaged. It seems that the octopoids target all communications gear. Secondary comms links are down, although the Games Board systems are still at one hundred per cent. Gjomvik sub is making twenty kilometres per hour and the octopoids are no longer showing any interest in it. We have a surface escort meeting us in one hour. I shall cannibalise some of the damaged gear and get us one good working aerial at least.’
‘Good. Thank you, Technical Sergeant van Vinken. Sergeant Major Stevens?’
‘Yeah, right. This thing is only just hanging together, but we will get home, I am sure.’
The crew smiled, knowing that Harry loathed having to say anything when on camera. Jan moved around, checking for anything and everything and doing her best mother duck impression by asking if anyone needed a drink. Then she disappeared aft with her pistol in hand.
One of the Games Board monitors arrived back at Marko’s station. ‘May I ask your views of this action, Sergeant Major?’
‘Certainly. Well, on balance I would say we did rather well. Nothing broken that cannot be repaired, although we lost a percentage of our capabilities. Most interesting craft this, and certainly built tough. The AI proxies are a bit bent and I note that our junior crew member ACE, Sergeant Glint, has lost a part of his tail, probably by stabbing it into the mouth of an octopoid, but they are the only casualties.’
The monitor nodded with great enthusiasm. ‘Yes! Our local viewers are already commenting on his most excellent abilities in a fight and, yes, you are quite right, he did use his tail as a stabbing weapon. Most impressive. He has been awarded an additional bonus in that after he had his tail damaged he seemed to become even more tenacious in attempting to bite the alien creature’s head off, or just tear it apart. You must be very proud of him.’
Marko did not know if he should shake his head or nod in agreement so did neither. ‘I’m pleased about his actions, although I must admit that I’m not pleased about him trying to chew on the octopoid’s brain while flying over a very deep ocean. He would have taken months to get home if he had gone into the sea.’
‘Indeed, that would have been unfortunate. However, the still images of him being dragged off the alien, protesting loudly, by the Intelligence proxy are selling extremely well. Thank you, Sergeant Major Spitz.’
Marko smiled, nodded and turned back to his board as Fritz yelled: ‘Contact, contact, six o’clock, suborbital, non-Administration, thirty-five kilometres above us and descending fast. Gjomvik!’
A beautifully regulated voice chimed into their on board comms system, something it should not be able to do, thought Marko, but then again it was their ship.
‘Greetings to the Administration occupants of KA14. I thank you for retrieving my good friend and colleague Squadron Leader Marks. I hoped to find her well, but alas the medical computer tells me otherwise. I also note that you were not responsible for her injuries. I am in your debt. You are welcome to the tech that is the KA14 and the tech in the pilot’s pod of the submersible.’
As whoever it was said this, Major Michael Longbow arrived in their compartment, pulled Fritz’s headphones off and whispered in his ear. The major then turned and went back to the bridge of Mudshark. Fritz’s fingers flew over his various keyboards and touchscreens. Marko knew some
thing was up and hoped whatever it was, it was not detectable by Mudshark’s remaining Gjomvik tech, as Fritz announced: ‘Missile launch from the incoming craft! Vector is eighty kilometres to our stern. Impact in three minutes. It’s very specific. It’s our prize! Sorry, Intel, there is nothing we can do.’
Marko shrugged and carried on the balancing act of keeping Mudshark level and moving when the major was suddenly at his side whispering in his ear. ‘Mate, find Glint, hide him in the AG unit and for fuck’s sake shut him up. I do not want these pricks knowing that he is here. I shall report him lost over the side. Run!’
Marko leapt out of his seat as the restraints peeled off him and ran aft, finding Glint just outside the rear hatchway sealing off his damaged tail. He grabbed him and dragged him back inside the hatch telling him what he had to do. Glint nodded, then sprinted back to the engine room and had most of the main inspection hatch cover plate nuts off before Marko arrived panting behind him. As soon as the cover was removed, Glint clambered inside. Marko slammed the hatch back on, effectively hiding him in the dampening systems built into the wall of the AG unit, and felt him leave his mind. Glint had once mentioned to him that there was an additional link between them, but Marko had never really thought about it until that moment. He arrived back at his station just as the ten-kilometre proximity warning was issued by the major who added: ‘Combat alert, crew. They are going to be alongside in about seven minutes. Intel proxy, you are reminded that I am in charge of this operation; step away from the Squadron Leader now. In fact, place yourself in the open and try to learn as much as possible about their craft.’
The sleek humanoid machine responded. ‘Certainly, Major.’
‘Technology-Materials proxy, have you a functioning rail gun yet?’
‘Unfortunately not, major.’
The major sighed. ‘Stand down, then. Attempt repairs to the front hatchway, please.’
‘As you wish, Major.’
Marko checked his instrument board with its multiple screens and saw that everything was pretty much the same. He had shut down the port AG unit earlier, notwithstanding it was partially functioning again, and as the starboard one was only just ticking over, while they were in hover mode he let them be. Considering his inbuilt shielding, Glint would have been all right in the working antigravity unit anyway but Marko wanted to be sure of the ACE’s safety. He switched to one of his side screens to pick up the Games Board commentary on the approaching ship.
‘What an exciting day it has been, folks, and here we have a most interesting and unexpected additional piece of data for you. Yes, it is an often spoken of, but rarely seen, Gjomvik craft. It is a private cruiser from the der Boltz family fleet, yes, information gained from a voice match tells me that it is captained by none other than the legendary Colonel Baron Willie der Boltz himself! As you can see, it is big, but not really, really big. However, it is certainly capable of lifting this Mudshark many times over and definitely appears long-jump interstellar capable. The fact that it is also capable of descending into an atmosphere, and indeed of operating on antigravity in this world’s major gravitational well, speaks volumes of the enormous power it must possess. And, as we can see, it is beautiful, illustrating the difference between a fishing trawler and a luxury yacht. Both ply the sea, carry people and goods, but that is where the similarities end. We wonder why it has appeared here on this planet. Could it be that this planet has something that the Gjomvik Corporations would rather steal than negotiate for? And could it be that, once again, the heroic crew of Basalt has thwarted them? The Administration must be very anxious about it, but as this is an outpost base it is not well-equipped to deal with a threat such as this.’
As the beautifully streamlined and sculpted starship slowed to match their speed, they could see the weapons being trained on them in ports slid open in its side. Harry complimented the major on doing the right thing and not being aggressive towards them.
‘Jan, Fritz, get down to the hangar and prepare to transport our guest, please.’ Harry instructed.
The hangar cameras, what remained of them, showed Jan and Fritz flanking the gurney with its inbuilt medical systems at the edge of the ramp, as a tongue-like structure descended from the starship and reached across to rest firmly against the remains of the ramp supports. Harry noted that no words had been spoken about them slowing or heaving to. He concluded that the Gjomvik starship must have seen the damage and known that if they stopped Mudshark it would probably not be able to get under way again. He also concluded that the Baron must still be an honourable and generous person to make such a decision as he had decided many years earlier, while doing business with him, that he liked the man.
‘Major Longbow. You have an excellent crew, sir, and my special thanks to Sergeant Major Spitz. I can see you listening, Marko, my thanks. The dragon is still with us and most appreciated. Major, we would honour your inclusion in our company should you or any of your people see fit. And at the risk of sounding impolite, may I ask if you have any fresh apples on board?’
The major cleared his throat to ask, ‘Who am I addressing, please?’
The voice sounded through their comms again. ‘As the Games Board has rightly assumed, I am William der Boltz, Major.’
Michael Longbow looked across the displays to see heads shaking, then glanced at Harry, who also shook his head. He turned in his seat to catch the eyes of the other crew present. ‘I thank you for the opportunity to work with your company, sir. I decline. My crew can make up their own minds. And, yes, I am sure that we can find you a few fresh apples from Basalt’s gardens. Please accept them with our compliments.’
The crew all chorused their declines, except Fritz, who just ignored the question. Seeing that the comms link with the baron had been cut, Marko said: ‘Apples! What the hell? Now, we’ve all heard of the legendary Willie der Boltz, and I have even done business with him. But apples?’
Harry strode past Marko, heading for the little galley. ‘Yeah, one of his only vices. That and tea. Even has his own tea plantations!’
Five minutes later the bridge crew watched as the still unconscious Eva Marks, sealed inside an AG medical unit, was manoeuvred into the hangar with a box of apples and other fresh fruit at her feet.
The baron spoke again. ‘You are honourable people; my thanks to you for looking after Eva. Please place the gurney on the ramp.’
As they watched, the end of the ramp gently folded around the gurney then rapidly withdrew into the starship. A few moments later it reappeared, the gurney now loaded with cases of wine and beer. The gurney was placed inside the hangar and the ramp withdrew to the Gjomvik ship.
The major laughed and thanked der Boltz, to which the baron replied: ‘Well, I’ll take any opportunity to gather a little fruit from the legendary gardens of Basalt. I hope one day we can all break bread together. Thank you and goodbye.’
While the elegant, mottled mauve and black craft lifted rapidly, ascending into the afternoon sky, Marko noted that a highly compressed message in one of Fritz’s codes, from the Baron’s dragon, had arrived in his private message box. He smiled, wondering what it contained.
The rest of the journey back to base was uneventful. Marko plucked Glint from his hiding place and with the aid of the Tech proxy sealed off the tail stump. Marko wondered why the major had wanted him hidden as the Gjomvik ship would have been aware of the ACE from the Games Board feeds. He decided that the major knew something that he did not. He was thinking about it when the Tech proxy slid up beside him. He looked up at it and raised his eyebrows in query. The machine nodded its sleek head to him. ‘My apologies for interrupting your reverie, Sergeant Major. I have a small matter that I would wish to discuss with you.’
Marko indicated Jan’s empty seat. She was out on the aft deck taking a few minutes’ break. As the sleek machine folded itself down into the seat, Marko asked it what it wanted to discuss. The machine unfolded a large screen out of its wrist which displayed a small monkey-like creature; th
is got Marko’s immediate attention as he could see that it was an ACE. The video showed the creature carefully moving across the ceiling of one of the base’s hangars.
‘This is definitely an ACE, Sergeant Major,’ said the Tech proxy, ‘as we have been watching it for weeks, but it possesses high-tech chameleon-ware and has avoided capture. As Tech AI, I have taken it upon myself to talk with you about it and wonder what we should do? We have scans of the ACE and believe it may have originated from your home province and be of Dine family manufacture.’
Marko looked through the displays, mapping them against his own internal records, and wished that Topaz was present to verify his thoughts. ‘Interesting. Yes, I believe you’re right. Looking at the scans, I would say that the ACE may be out of its indenture and travelling throughout the Sphere.’
‘Yes. That is probably correct, but it keeps trying to gain access to the incinerators. We wonder if it is trying to commit suicide.’
Jan had quietly entered the cockpit and heard what was said. ‘It happens. It’s sad, but it happens. They become lonely and distraught just like any other sentient creature and decide oblivion is the best answer. The neverending problem with life creation. What if the living created creature does not wish to live?’
Marko and the proxy nodded in understanding. Fritz, who had been quietly listening, said: ‘Um, I have a piece of music that might help. Kind of peppy and a real tonic for sad souls. Particularly ones that have been engineered. Hey, Marko! I know that look. You are about to help another lost waif ACE, eh? Here, have opened the music file to you. Just play it in that hangar and watch what happens.’
Crystal Venom Page 5