The Ancillary (Tales of a Dying Star Book 2)

by David Kristoph

  "So what?" she said. This part of the Ancillary was old. It was unsurprising to find marks and blemishes.

  Now Keld looked at her, concern in his blue eyes. "It was still warm to the touch when I arrived. And the wires are damaged too neatly, like they were cut and then shifted to make it look like a short."

  "Cut? What are you saying?"

  Keld pulled a small tool from the ground. He gripped it by the handle with the other end extended away like a two-pronged fork with a gap in between. He pressed a button, and a red laser connected between the prongs. Carefully, he extended the tool into the exposed panel. The length of the laser lined up perfectly with the vertical mark on the metal.

  "I'm saying this was done intentionally. I'm certain of it."

  Her mouth hung open. The evidence was damning; the wires were cut by a tool, too cleanly to be an accident.

  This doesn't make sense. None of this makes any sense.

  "Who else knows?" she asked.

  "Just you. I wanted you to look at it first." He stared at her, waiting for her to make a decision.

  "Good. Go ahead and repair it, and don't tell anyone else." The wires would take less than an hour to fix.

  Keld shook his head. "That's not all I found. The relay circuit, back here, is missing. Normally it wouldn't be noticeable behind these wires, but I started looking closely at everything once I became suspicious."

  He rearranged more wires so she could see. Beth was unfamiliar with this section of electronics, but it was obvious something had been removed.

  "Can it be replaced?" she asked.

  "Nope. The relay piece is ancient, probably as old as the Ancillary itself. I doubt any factory in the Empire makes it anymore." He scratched the back of his head, thinking. "I might be able to remove another circuit and reconfigure it, but it'll take hours. And it still might not work."

  Beth frowned. "So we've no long-range communications until then?"

  "Correct, only short-range," Keld said. "Though we can realign those arrays for long-range if we need to."

  "I don't have the codes, but Javin will be rock-side soon," she said. Javin was the only one who held the codes to realign any of the Ancillary's external equipment. And with good reason: the transfer laser was powerful. If it became misaligned the damage would be catastrophic indeed.

  Beth said, "For now, try to replace the relay circuit with another part. We'll realign some arrays once Javin is rock-side. Don't tell anyone."

  She stood to leave, but Keld grabbed her arm. "Beth... who would do this?"

  Beth saw the concern in his eyes. "I don't know."

  The dimness of the hallway was disconcerting after Keld's revelation. When she reached the junction with the ring she stopped. Why would someone sabotage their method of contacting Melis? Their short-range communications still worked. It didn't make any sense.

  And who would have reason to do it? Most transmissions were personal messages from workers to their families, or data reports from Elo. The sabotage would make the workers more homesick than they already were, and delay their progress reports, but little else.

  She passed two workers in the hallway, young men whose names she didn't know. They nodded politely to Beth. She eyed them with suspicion until they were out of sight.

  She thought of Javin, and the blame he would receive if their work was delayed. Was he the reason for all this? It was no secret that he disapproved of the dismantling program. He'd even been suspected as a member of the Children of Saria, the separatists that wanted the Empire to remain in the Sarian system. Could this damage be an attempt to incriminate Javin? If so, it was a poor attempt.

  Whatever the reason, Javin needs to know, she decided. This was something that couldn't wait. She turned left, toward the dock.

  She bumped into someone coming through the doorway. Mark's eyes widened when he saw her. "Uhh, I'm sorry, madam Custodian," he said, looking at the floor.

  "You're in a hurry," she said, slowly. "Did you finish your work on core three?"

  "Almost," he said, still not meeting her gaze. "I was taking a quick break to grab some water. I'm not feeling very well, after Darren's accident."

  His flustered attitude normally annoyed Beth, but now it gave her pause. Everything suddenly seemed suspicious, and Mark stuck out more than most. "Why don't you take the rest of the shift off," she said, forcing some cheerfulness into her voice. "I'll find someone else to finish the work."

  "Yes, Beth. Err, madam Custodian. I would like that. Thank you." With that he shuffled past her toward the living quarters.

  Beth continued down the hallway, frowning to herself. Mark's about as dangerous as a tube of jelly, she thought. Still, his behavior concerned her. She had a good feel for situations, and she didn't think it was paranoia.

  Javin would take care of all of it when he was rock-side. She repeated the mantra to herself like a prayer.

  The space-facing wall of the dock was transparent, giving a view of the black outside the asteroid. Airlocks were built into the glass, six cube-shaped spaces that protruded into the room and leaned out into space. The spare Carrion ship was docked at airlock five, the only one currently occupied. The junker was wide and ungainly; while docked it nearly blocked the airlocks to either side. Another reminder of how foreign the dismantling process was to the Ancillary, which was built with smaller maintenance ships in mind.

  The room was busy with workers preparing for the change of shift: crates of supplies were carried through the airlock onto the Carrion; electroids were removed from a closet and activated one-by-one; workers put on space suits so they could help unload the storage bay of the returning ship.

  Beth turned to the latter, two workers named Alissa and Gola. "There's no need to suit up. The incoming ship doesn't have any panels loaded."

  Gola snorted. "Javin's been gone for three rotations. What's he been doing out there by himself?" She moved her hand to her groin and made a rude gesture, sending both women into fits of laughter.

  Beth bristled. "That's Custodian Javin. And if you insult him again in my presence, stars help me, I'll have you cleaning the pipes in the living quarters for the rest of your stay here. Now go help Jane with the crates."

  Alissa's eyes widened at the threat; Gola rolled hers. But they obeyed, shedding their space suits and walking over to where Jane worked.

  Beth touched the knife at her belt. If Javin didn't assume command soon Beth would definitely stab something.

  Next to the door was a computer screen. She tapped the code for the command room. "Elo, how much longer until Javin's docked?"

  "A few minutes," came his voice. "He's syncing up now, I think. But there's..." he trailed off.

  "What is it?"

  A slight pause. "His ship has visible signs of damage. They look like explosions on the hull, sloppily repaired and covered-up with paint."

  He sounded confused. That alone worried Beth; the man was punctual and informative, precise and acute, but rarely confused. "Connect me through to Javin," she said.

  The computer screen didn't show his face, but Javin's voice was clear. "Beth? I'm docking now."

  "What electrical problems did you have, Javin? What exactly?"

  "I told you," he said, annoyed, "it was a problem with some of the electroids."

  "No," she said, "you didn't tell me that. And Elo says your Carrion is damaged. How could the electroids cause that?"

  "Damnit Beth," he snapped, "I'll be there in a few minutes. We can talk then. I'm just sick of being alone with these useless machines, and want to get back to managing the Ancillary's workers. I'm never taking over one of your shifts again."

  The voice cut off.

  Beth stared at the wall computer. She felt scolded like a child. She'd never heard Javin speak that way to anyone, let alone Beth. She turned back to the airlocks. The Carrion was visible through the glass, drifting alongside the Ancillary, slowing down to match its speed now that it was caught up to the asteroid. She could see the damage E
lo spoke of: one blemish faced the dock, slightly discolored compared to the rest of the circular ship, with metal repair work that still left part of the hole uncovered.

  The repair job was something she would expect from one of the new workers: rough and sloppy, done quick instead of thorough. The stress was affecting Javin's work. His mood was certainly off. Everyone took yearly psych evaluations; she wondered when the engineer was due for his. That was the sort of thing Javin would avoid, if he could. I'll check when I'm back in the command room, she decided. He would listen to her if she insisted.

  A few of the workers in the dock had stopped what they were doing to stare at her. They'd heard Javin's voice; it was easy to tell something was wrong. With effort she pulled her mind back to the present. "Get your asses back to work! Jane, those crates were supposed to be loaded by now."

  They snapped back to work at her command. With small satisfaction she watched Javin's Carrion turn and begin the docking procedure at airlock number two.

  Whoosh. The door behind Beth opened, and when she turned Keld was there. He was frowning, his eyes wide.

  Beth made sure nobody was within earshot before saying, "What's wrong? Are you unable to replace the relay junction?"

  "No," he said, "I haven't begun that yet. I was examining the rest of the comm room, to make sure I didn't miss anything." From his pocket he pulled another circuit, small enough to fit in his palm. Half its face was charred. "This is part of the proximity sensor. It was damaged too. I... wanted to tell you in person."

  She understood; he didn't want to speak over the public comms. She turned back to the computer screen. "Elo, are the proximity sensors down?"

  "Uh, yes, madam Custodian," came his voice. "They've been unresponsive since the comms began having issues."

  "So we've been blind for an hour? Why am I only hearing of this now?"

  "I thought it was related to the comms Keld was working on," he said. "And you told me to save all problems for Javin."

  The doors to airlock two hissed as pressure began equalizing.

  Keld still looked to her, concerned. Everything jumbled around in her mind. Sensors and communications were down, destroyed by someone on the station. Were they going to be attacked? Their systems had been down for an hour, so it should have happened by now, if so. Somehow, she was missing the full picture. Javin would know.

  Javin. He was acting strange, saying things that made no sense. Calling electroids useless, dumping panels into open space. Saying he just wanted to return to managing the workers. The workers.

  And in a flash of insight Beth understood. Javin was trying to give her a message. He was telling her something was wrong.

  She jumped back to the computer screen. "Elo, close all airlocks! Lock down the Ancillary!"

  "What? But Javin's ship..."

  Airlock two opened.

  Men strode inside. They were ragged and disuniform, with baggy clothes that hung loosely to the floor, rifles held and aimed. Green lasers began hissing through the air, followed by shouts of alarm. Jane fell to the ground with a cry.

  Beth dove behind a crate, her instincts taking over. After a moment she got up and sprinted through the door behind her. Keld followed, barely slipping into the hallway before the door slammed shut. Through the small window she counted: two, four, six, eight. Eight men total, spreading out inside the dock, shooting as they went. Jane lay dead on the ground, a smoking hole in her chest, but she was the only one. The remaining workers were captured one-by-one and thrown to the ground by the airlock. Gola tried to throw a punch and was struck with the butt of a rifle.

  One of the men stood out from the others. His clothes fitted better than the rest. A steel plate covered the left side of his face, glowing red with electronics. He pointed at the door, at Beth, and walked toward her. Then the reinforced blast door fell into place, blocking her view.

  Chapter 10

  Beth sprinted down the curved hallway away from the docks. Alarms wailed, red light flickering across the walls in time with the siren.

  Keld's footsteps rang behind her. She didn't dare look back. Blast doors were positioned every fifty feet, and though she had to duck to pass through them, she didn't slow her stride. Every time they passed under one she could hear it slam closed a few seconds later. Elo was waiting for them to pass before locking down each one. The blast doors were for emergencies; once closed they could not be opened again for a full hour.

  They passed the hallway for the personnel airlocks, then the living quarters. By the time they burst into the command room her chest burned. She put her hands on her knees and gasped for breath. Keld did the same beside her.

  When she finally rose she took a count of the command room. The three technicians were standing, their screens of data forgotten. Elo still sat at one terminal, squinting and moving his hands to sift through data. Six other workers were gathered in the corner of the room. It was silent, aside from the screech of the alarm. They all faced the primary computer screen, suspended high on the wall in the center of the room.

  It showed a video feed of the dock, from a camera in the ceiling. Beth's workers were huddled in the corner by the first airlock, arms tied behind their backs. Four of the guards stood over them with rifles held at the ready. Three more of the intruders peered at the door leading deeper into the Ancillary, examining the blast door that blocked their way.

  The man with the metal face sat on a crate by the door with one leg crossed over the other and his hands clasped on his knees. His face was hideous, the skin twisted and unnatural where it met metal. He would have looked bored if his electronic eye weren't darting around, inspecting the room.

  Elo's hands moved over computer screen. The alarm stopped. A few moments later he turned to face Beth. "The station's locked down. Do you want me to enable the defensive turrets?"

  "You haven't already?"

  "No," Elo said. "With the proximity sensors down they won't know friend from foe. They might shoot at Javin's ship while it's docked. Do we risk that?"

  "Leave them disabled for now; Javin might still be alive." Now that the intruders were on board she doubted they needed Javin anymore, but she didn't want to risk it. If he were alive she would want to get him back.

  "What do they want?" asked one of the technicians. Her arms were crossed, shivering. "Why are they doing this?"

  It didn't surprise her the vultures were already swooping in before the Exodus Fleet had left. Beth had dealt with pirates before. It was always the same: they'd pick a station clean of all valuables and equipment, ransom it--and its inhabitants--back to the Empire, then flee. People only died when they resisted. Beth explained such to the others.

  "Then why are we resisting?" the technician asked. "Shouldn't we surrender peacefully?"

  "I don't know," Beth said. This didn't feel like a normal ransom job. Something about it all was different. She needed time to think, to consider her options. It'd be easier if everyone weren't staring at me.

  Elo pointed at the screen. "Custodian, I think he's speaking."

  The man with the metal face was still sitting, his lips moving. He tugged at his boots as if trying to tidy himself.

  "Turn on the receiver," Beth said. "Maybe we can hear what he's telling his men."

  Elo obeyed.

  "--when you are ready to negotiate," came the man's voice. "I will wait here presently until then."

  Elo licked his lips. "Is he talking to us?"

  Beth walked to the terminal, pressed a button, and bent to speak. "Who are you?"

  The man's head swiveled and stared directly at the security camera. The red eye spun and focused. "Hello Beth! I was beginning to wonder if I was speaking only to myself."

  "How do you know my name?"

  "I know much about you. About all of you. I am pleased to introduce myself as Soren."

  "What do you want, Soren?"

  "What do all men want, Beth? Food and shelter. The chance at prosperity. Safety for those they love."

&
nbsp; "What do you want from us. Tell me, or this conversation ends now."

  Soren's flesh curled up in a half-smile, the metal side remaining unmoved. "I would like control of your command room, if you please."

  Of course. "Why should I negotiate with a pirate?" Beth asked.

  That made Soren laugh. "Pirate. So pejorative. I think you will find me quite civilized." The smile disappeared. "But only so much civility can be accomplished with voice alone. If you do not allow us entrance to your command room I'm afraid of what we will be forced to do."

  "You still haven't explained why I should believe you."

  Wordlessly, Soren rose and strode to the airlock where the Carrion was docked. When he returned Beth's heart sank.

  Javin wore the thin underclothes used with a space suit, though instead of white they were grey and soiled. His hands were bound with wire in front of him. Face and arms were bruised purple, and his head hung to his chest as he limped along. Soren walked behind, gripping Javin's shirt in a fist, urging him forward.

  Soren stopped and looked at the camera. "Give me the control room, Beth."

  Elo's eyes were wide. Keld shook his head. I should have listened sooner. Javin was trying to tell me the whole time.

  "If I let you through," she said slowly, "you'll kill all of us anyways."

  "I give you my word that I will not."

  "You won't," she said, "but your men will? Is that it?"

  Soren sighed. "I am not playing word games with you. I tell you truthfully: nobody, not myself or my men, will harm any of the Ancillary workers so long as you surrender now."

  One of the technicians behind Beth, a small, blonde-haired man named Bul, scoffed. "They already killed Jane. She wasn't even armed!" Tears welled in his eyes.

  Soren heard Bul through the computer. "I am truly sorry; that was not our intention. As you can see, we captured the others unharmed." He was looking at Jane's body, unmoving on the floor, with something close to sorrow. He's a skilled liar. Don't listen to him.