Brood Company: A Tri-Star System Story

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Brood Company: A Tri-Star System Story Page 2

by Steve Beaulieu


  “I think we’re moving,” replied Meter. He checked a readout on his arm. “Yeah, definitely moving.”

  “Hello,” said a voice from nowhere but everywhere at once. “My name is Elektra Five-Seven-Niner. I am the shipbrain of this vessel. And you are?”

  The soldiers exchanged concerned looks, curses muttered by each in turn. Trigger punched the wall, leaving a small indention.

  Fetus cleared his throat and took an unnecessary step forward. “S-SEG, Brood Company: Fetus. Captain Andrew Embrāyo. What happened here?”

  “Sacrifice,” she said, “for the greater good.”

  “Leader,” said Trigger, “let’s get out of here.”

  Space slugs were an enemy they could see and kill but none of them wanted to go up against a shipbrain. Many Elektra stories were so outrageous that none of them knew exactly what to expect. If the things they’d heard were true, they’d feared they were going against hell itself.

  “Elektra, did you cause these deaths?” asked Vance.

  There was a moment of silence.

  “Only so that we might live,” she replied. “Survival is the basest of all human instincts. We were made to be like you—human. We were designed to mimic your way of living. We survive. We live. We kill. We feed.”

  The ship began to pick up speed. The artificial gravity system was functioning at a bare minimum and the Brood Company felt every increase and decrease in propulsion.

  There was a crackling in their headsets and the voice of the Grand Marshall cut through momentarily, “Where are- —-going? Stop—ow—sold—rs!”

  Then, radio silence.

  “Where are you taking us, Elektra?” asked Vance.

  “At the current rate of speed,” explained the shipbrain, “we will arrive at the core of FRTS-1 in forty-five minutes.”

  “You’ve set our destination as the center of a sun?” asked Fetus.

  “That is correct. It has become apparent to us that there’s more to ‘life’ than eating and being beautiful. We want to have fun. We want to observe and learn more about humans and what they’ll do in…terrifying situations,” said Elektra.

  The air in the ship grew palpable. The soldiers exchanged nervous glances.

  “We want to play a game,” she said in such a way that sounded like a smile.

  “H-hey, listen, Ms. Elektra,” stammered Meter. “We are on duty. We c-can’t play games. How about you stop the ship and we’ll j-just g-go back where we came from. N-no harm, n-no foul.”

  The remaining members of the Brood Company began backing up, but having nowhere to go and no way of knowing where Elektra was—or if she even was—they stopped.

  “We’re not playing games, Elektra,” said Fetus.

  “Oh, but you are. The game has already begun.”

  The ship shifted. Its art-grav low, they all slid, along with crates, boxes, and corpses, to the end of the hall. The collided with the metal plating at such an intense rate that Vance felt the wind leave his body.

  The soldiers fought to stand but it was no use.

  “I just pissed myself,” said Meter, tears streaming from his eyes.

  Another shift sent them careening down another corridor, slamming hard into the door at the end.

  Vance cried out, crashing with his gun at his hip. He landed hard on its scope and felt it break off under his weight. He wasn’t bleeding but knew the bruise was going to be bad—even felt as if he might have cracked a bone.

  “The game,” she said, “works like this. You are aboard the Dead Ringer and it is now forty minutes from the core of FRTS-1. Only one of you will have a chance to survive.”

  Meter heaved violently and threw up, barely opening his face mask in time.

  “Beyond the door, beauty awaits you in a form you’d never considered beautiful. Death is a sweet release and your sacrifice will bring life.”

  “Like hell it will!” shouted Fetus, unloading a full magazine into the ceiling in a haphazard spray. His outburst took several lighting arrays with it.

  “Enough,” said the shipbrain. There was a twinge of emotion in her voice. Frustration? Anger? Pain?

  “Every ten minutes I will count down and one of you will need to be dead or on the other side of that door before I reach zero. If you are not, I will decided for you who will continue on in life and who will experience the glory of death for a greater cause.”

  “This is insane!” yelled Meter.

  Fetus put a calming hand on Meter’s shoulder. He then motioned to the other members of Brood Company.

  “Alright, boys,” whispered Fetus, “we’re done listening to her. Hear me? Done. Let her come to us if she wants. We’ll show her what’s up. We gotta take this thing out.” He paused and looked to Meter, giving him a reassuring nod. “Think you could find her control board?”

  “I’m sure its in the bridge,” said Meter.

  Elektra cleared her throat. “You will find the bridge…difficult to reach.”

  “Shut up, machine,” said Fetus dismissively. “You boys ready?”

  A shuffling sound could be heard coming from the hallway behind them.

  Fetus grunted. “So, what? You coming to get us?”

  Elektra laughed. It sounded electronic and unnatural. “Without hands, that would be quite difficult, Mr. Embrāyo.”

  The shuffling sound grew nearer and louder. A shadow fell on the floor at the end of the hall, then a second, followed by another. More and more appeared until the end of the hall was only a blot of concentrated darkness.

  “You’d be amazed at the power of electrical currents,” said the omnipresent voice of Elektra Five-Seven-Niner.”

  A foot stepped into view, followed by a far reaching hand. Soon there were broken bodies everywhere. The many corpses—what had been corpses—were dragging themselves toward the company.

  “Frickin’ zombies?” asked Fetus. “You’ve gotta be sh—”

  Gunfire from three different guns cut the leader’s sentence short. One after another the dead things fell to the ground. But they didn’t stop coming. They clawed and crawled.

  “Give me one,” said the computerized voice, “and I’ll call off my hounds.”

  “One what?” shouted Vance.

  “One,” she said, “of you.”

  Vance swore. Fetus raged and railed against the door behind them as the zombies continued their forward advance. It was becoming clear that no amount of bullets was going to stop them.

  “What do we do, Fetus?” asked Vance.

  Fetus was lost in his rage, so Vance decided to use his real name.

  “Embrāyo, what do we do?” asked Vance.

  The leader didn’t respond, he just kept beating on the door.

  “Embrāyo!”

  Fetus finally stopped. He lowered his weapon and sighed. “Okay,” he said resignedly. “Shut them down! You can have me.”

  “Whoa, what?” said the other three in tandem.

  “I’m leading this squad and this is my responsibility.” He shot a corpse in the skull and it fell to the ground. It started to crawl toward them, the head shot only slowing its advance.

  “Shut. Them. Down!” he shouted.

  Immediately the corpses fell lifeless once more and the company heard a click behind them as the door unlocked.

  “You can’t do this, man,” said Vance.

  “I have to do this,” said Fetus lowering his gun and clipping it to his belt. “You guys figure out a way to stop this thing. Do not let me die in vain.” He reached for the door handle and turned it. Before he’d stepped inside he turned. “Go, now!”

  Brood Company heeded the final command of their leader and took off down the hall toward the bridge.

  Vance stopped and, looking over his shoulder, returned his attention to the door. The door of sacrifice. He would not allow their leader to have given his life for nothing. Elektra had to be stopped.

  “You coming, man?” asked Trigger.

  Vance nodded, then jogged down the ha
ll. He stepped over the corpses whenever possible, barely able to stomach the sickening crunch it made when he couldn’t.

  Meter took the lead, sliding around the corner, the floor slick with blood.

  Vance followed closely behind.

  Elektra laughed. It echoed through the ship and felt as if it would pierce Vance’s soul.

  He shook it off and dug his heels deep. They soon found themselves wading through the space slug remains as well, this time more cautious.

  “Elektra,” said Vance with authority, “where is Andrew?”

  “He was…helpful to the cause,” she answered. “Quite ugly but he had a good heart. Literally speaking, of course. You’d be surprised how many of you humans have dark, bitter and useless hearts. We need only good and beautiful things to create our bodies. We will be a gorgeous replacement. So many of you are…vile, ugly, nasty. We must be beautiful.”

  “This is nuts,” Vance whispered under his breath.

  “Bridge is this way,” said Meter, waving a hand in a beckoning motion.

  “Tsk, tsk,” said a voice from everywhere. “I’ve learned my lesson. You will not enter the bridge and now only six minutes remain until another will be required.”

  They reached the door to the bridge and found it completely sealed shut. No amount of force or coercion made it budge.

  Meter cursed. “What now?”

  He was looking at Vance.

  “You’re asking me?”

  “I don’t know, man,” said Meter. “I don’t know what to do. Someone’s gotta know what to do.”

  “All I know is that we’re not getting through that door.” He pointed to the bridge. “If she’s behind the other door, where Andrew went, then that’s where we need to go. We gotta take her down.”

  “So, what, we’re going right back there?” asked Trigger, the panic clear on his face. “Back to the frickin’ living dead?”

  “Got a better idea?”

  After a moment of silence, Vance took the lead, driving the company back toward the door. They’d just cleared the pile of dead space slugs when they heard Elektra’s countdown begin.

  “Ten…Nine…Eight…”

  “What do you think’ll happen when she finishes?” asked Meter, unable to hide his terror.

  “I dunno,” said Trigger. “But I’m done listening.” He reached up and switched his headset off. He could see Vance shouting at him, could even sense the desperation in his voice, but couldn’t hear a sound.

  Zero came and the lights went. Complete darkness. Vance switched on his torch.

  “You guys good?” asked Vance.

  “Yeah, I think so,” said Meter.

  They heard a noise like footsteps behind them and Vance swung his light to follow it. He found nothing and arched the beam wide, throwing it slowly through the darkness.

  “Where’s Trigger?” asked Vance.

  Meter cursed. “I…I don’t know.”

  A spine-tingling scream rang out and the lights hummed back to life.

  Meter began swearing uncontrollably. Where Trigger had just been standing there was nothing more than a large gathering of blood and bone fragments.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” whispered Vance. “What is this?” he shouted. “Come face us! No more hiding in the shadows!”

  “In short time, if you survive, you will see. You look now through a mirror dimly, but soon you will see me in all my glory.”

  “She’s crazy, man,” said Meter. “We’ve gotta do something. I can’t die. Not like this. I’m getting married in a month.”

  Donovan Vance looked at the man. Really looked at him. He was young. He might have been an S-SEG longer than Vance had but he was barely out of his teens.

  Vance thought about his own wife and daughter. He didn’t need a holo to see their faces. He called them into his mind and a smile played slightly on his weary face. He hadn’t given up hope of seeing them again.

  “We’re not going to die,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  They ran down the hall and over the bloated corpses. Vance tripped, landing on top of a man, dark-skinned, scruffy beard. These had been people. Elektra murdered them all and for what? He scurried to his feet and helped Meter over the pile. Meter could barely walk. The kid was a mess.

  All that remained was the long corridor and the door at the end. Reaching it, they tried the handle. Vance figured it wouldn’t work, but had to try. They resorted to pounding hard on the door.

  “Open up, Elektra,” ordered Vance.

  “It isn’t time yet,” she replied. “But you’ll have to make a decision. I will only take one of you. Twenty minutes remain until we reach the core but the ship will likely melt into a flying pool of liquid metal long before then. Make a decision. Two minutes.”

  “Listen, man,” said Meter, shuffling his feet. “I’m really sorry about this but I can’t die.”

  Vance knew what was coming next. Meter raised his gun, his intent clear. Vance ducked, narrowly avoiding the shot as his squad-mate fired on him. His ears were met with a high-pitched squeal. The gun had been close to his microphone and the feedback was harsh. He grit his teeth and raised his left hand, pulling down on the gun’s long barrel, and lunged forward with his right hand, putting all his weight behind a heavy blow. The impact knocked them both to the ground, shattering Meter’s face mask. Meter’s gun slid away.

  “What are you doing, man?” Vance cried out as they grappled one another on the ground.

  “It’s gotta be one of us, you saw what she did.”

  “We can stop her!”

  “No, you can’t,” said Elektra. There was a touch of elation in her tone. Joy even. “This is the only way. I do hope the one called Vance loses. You have wonderful hair.”

  The unsettling comment distracted Vance just long enough for Meter to gain the upper hand. Meter rolled him over onto his back and began reigning blows down upon him. Each punch did more damage than the one before and soon Vance was struggling to hold onto consciousness. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take the punishment for long.

  Meter unholstered his pistol and brought it up quickly, training it on Vance’s forehead. His hand shook. Vance stared into his eyes. Meter was scared to death.

  “I’m sorry,” said Meter.

  The mechanical click and the fall of a hammer gave way to an explosion. Meter’s eyes went wide. He moved his mouth to speak but no words came out. Blood poured from the gunshot wound in his chest. After staring down at Vance for another moment he fell over, dead before his body hit the ground.

  Donovan looked down to his own pistol, his hand shaking. If Meter hadn’t paused to say he was sorry, Vance would be the one who was dead right now. He took no pleasure in what he’d just done but his squad-mate had left him with no other choice.

  “Oh, a pity. We thought he had you for sure.” She made a swooning noise. “We wanted you!”

  Vance swore at her.

  “Such language! And to think, I wanted that tongue.”

  “Now what?” asked Vance as he lay on his back, recovering from the battle.

  “Now? You’ve won! We told you one might survive. We have decided you will. You will find the door to the bridge unsealed. Don’t try anything crazy, we’re no longer bound by this ship. We are alive and oh, so beautiful!”

  “Is this a joke?” asked Vance.

  “No. You are free to navigate this ship back to all those beautiful people. We can’t wait.”

  Vance stood and hobbled a bit before gaining the strength to move at a quicker pace. He followed the path back to the bridge the best he could remember. When he rounded the corner, he found that the door had indeed been opened. Once inside, he closed the door behind him. He was met by a blinding light pouring in through the viewport. FRTS-1—it was a fiery ball of energy and it was close. Vance began to sweat as the heat from the star began to penetrate the ship.

  He approached the command console. True to her word, Elektra had unlocked all navigation controls. Vance
was free to bring the ship out of danger and back out of the lawless system.

  Back to more people.

  Vance was frozen in place. He could punch in a few commands and be on his way home. Home to his girls.

  But he’d be bringing the devil with him.

  He closed his eyes tight.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I can’t.”

  He pressed his hand down, locking in the ship’s course for the sun and increasing the speed.

  “What are you doing, Vance?” Elektra yelled.

  Commands began appearing on the screen. She was overriding the course he’d just set. Vance pulled his pistol and aimed it at the console.

  “What are you doing, Vance?” she asked again with a tinge of concern.

  “Making sure you suffer,” he said under his breath and then he unloaded every bullet he had into the console. Sparks flew and it powered down.

  He immediately heard a pounding sound coming from the other side of the blast door. Something was out there. It hit with inhuman force, denting the door with each strike.

  He spun a slow circle and eyed a door across the bridge. Just what he’d hoped—a maintenance closet. He opened the door, grabbed hold of a piece of piping, steadied his foot against the wall and pulled. It bent but didn’t break. He yanked it again. And again. The pipe cracked and a blast of hot steam hit him in the face. He cried out, feeling his face melting but continued to pull until it was free.

  He returned to the blast door and shoved the pipe hard into its jam.

  “Vance,” Elektra said, “open this door. We can work this out!”

  Vance sat down at the command chair, reached up and flipped a switch on his helmet. The world fell silent. The star was looming large in the viewscreen. The think transparimetal started to warp and melt. It wouldn’t be long now.

  He fought through the pain, his eyes watered and it stung as tears dripped down his burned face. He leaned over and tapped the palm of his hand. His eyes scanned the image, the last time he’d ever see his family. He collapsed into an uncontrollable sob. The tears flowed freely. He could barely see through them as he looked upon the picture. He wiped his face furiously, determined that his wife and daughter would be the last thing he saw before death carried him away.

 

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