The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books

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The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books Page 168

by John Thornton


  “Tan means death,” Cammarry muttered.

  “Cammarry, I am pleased you are here,” SB Sherman stated from some hidden speakers. “I have securely locked this door, and I doubt the intruders know what is in here.”

  The teleportation orifice folded in on itself, and closed. She had not seen it do anything precisely like that before. Several loud popping sounds followed as the whole teleporter shut down. Fumbling with her supplies, she dropped the backpack, and set the AWAD aside. She pulled out her fusion pack and turned on the light.

  “SB Sherman? What is happening here?”

  “Patrolmen from Wolf City have broken into the Reproduction and Fabrication facility. They crawled through ventilation ducts, and circumvented my abilities to lock them out. This happened at about the same time as we lost contact with Sandie. I do not believe it was a coincidence. One of their technicians has opened the log reports manually and discovered the list of those items which have been manufactured. They are looking for where those items were sent. I have provided a false trail along one of the gravity conduits into a wilderness area of the sand-hills. using disingenuous entries on the opening and closing of those conduits. I believe the technician is fooled, but I am not sure for how long.”

  “What about the other synthetic brain…” for a moment Cammarry lost track of names. “Bodowa who runs that place?”

  “SB Bodowa was sequestered away, by the technician, after the logs were opened,” SB Sherman replied. “I shut down the connections between SB Bodowa, SB Yomaris, and me right after that happened. I do not know what the current status is. I am limited to accessing things and personnel at egress points; doors, hatches, conduits, lifts, and dilators.”

  “Well, we will find out the story now,” Cammarry stated. “I need to get to the hanger bay immediately.” She drew out her Willie Blaster and stood next to the door. She then remembered the AWAD and its effects on automacubes. “Less destructive, more effective. I hope Siva was right.”

  Cammarry reshuffled her equipment, holstering the Willie Blaster. Thinking back to the explosions in Terraforming, she was not eager to use it in confined spaces. She strapped her backpack on securely, and then made sure she could have both hands free to operate the AWAD. It was olive-drab color with a tubular barrel. That made it somewhat long and unwieldy in the tight quarters, but she needed every advantage. She pulled the thick, insulating butt stock into her shoulder. She fingered the sliding lever, just in front of the trigger assembly, and saw by the readouts that the weapon was ready. She glanced down and understood her Willie Blaster could be accessed only by slinging the AWAD onto her back, or dropping it, which she was unwilling to do.

  “So which way to the hanger bay?”

  “Which hanger bay?” SB Sherman asked.

  “Swanson something.”

  “All the hanger bays in Habitat Alpha are designated as Swanson, followed by deck and location numbers,” SB Sherman replied.

  Cammarry wracked her brain trying to recall which hanger bay Carter the Kidnapper had taken her to, but then just asked. “Do you recall which one I first came to?”

  “I first encountered you at the egress door for Bridge 1,” SB Sherman answered. “I granted you a special dispensation to enter.”

  “What hanger bay is closest to that position?” Cammarry asked.

  “Swanson 6101 is closest to that location,” SB Sherman replied. “I must warn you. There has been tampering happening, not only in Reproduction and Fabrication, but also in doors near to that hanger bay, and in other locations scattered around the exterior compartment of Alpha The shell has been compromised. I have attributed these acts to the technicians who also took over Reproduction and Fabrication, however, the styles and methods of tampering have varied. Incidentally, Swanson 6101 is two levels up from the ecosphere level. Currently we are at the peak level. Just outside here is Reproduction and Fabrication, which I explained to you earlier has been seized my patrolmen from Wolf City. They did that even though engineering automacubes had rebuilt the perimeter doors.”

  “So, there is no way to avoid going through Reproduction and Fabrication?”

  “Not for a human being from here, no.”

  Again checking the AWAD, Cammarry said, “Then just slightly open this door. Let me take a look.”

  The door slid apart a tiny amount. Cammarry peered out.

  Reproduction and Fabrication was dimly lit by some pole mounted flood lamps. Cammarry was somewhat surprised by the rebuilt doors which now existed where she last recalled doors which had been destroyed by explosions. The large apparatus at the center of the room was in shadows of gray. A multitude of conveyor belts and rollers in the complex, multileveled apparatus were sitting idle. There were various chutes connecting from the walls and ceiling with openings onto assorted places on the conveyor belts. Inside those chutes was just darkness, or the chute ends were closed. The entire machine had the feel of being shut down, inert, dysfunctional.

  Even at the center of the apparatus, which was somewhat more visible as the light beams shined down on it, nothing was happening. There were a series of arches over of the conveyors, but where Cammarry remembered lights generating a spectrum of different hues, now it was darkness, except for the portable lights, which did reflect off very polished and mirrored surfaces at the end of the main conveyors. All the parabolic dishes, and nozzles pointing at the conveyor were still. Nothing was being reproduced, or fabricated. In fact, the whole system just looked passively inactive.

  Several green-uniformed patrolmen were standing about. A person in a set of coveralls was sitting at the control counter in front of the large conveyor belts, working at some instruments. Wires led from the control board to the portable lights, but the limited number of gadgets that were illuminated on the controls reinforced the impression of dysfunction.

  Two red automacubes were slowly rolling, on the prowl, around the room.

  Cammarry assessed the situation and knew she could not leave the apartment without being quickly observed.

  “SB Sherman, open this door enough for me to pass.”

  The door slid open with a screech.

  Cammarry dropped to one knee and took careful aim.

  Waap!

  Cammarry fired the AWAD, and cocked its lever. The nearest automacube shuddered and its manipulation arm drooped.

  Blam! Zing!

  A projectile from the other security automacube ricocheted off the door frame next to Cammarry.

  Waap!

  The second red automacube was struck before it could fire again. It slowed its rolling as it turned in a lazy, uncontrolled arc away from Cammarry. Sparks flew up from beyond it, out of a section of the fabricator’s conveyor system. The patrolmen, one with a brown stick of lek hanging from his lips, turned in a sluggish manner toward Cammarry. The female patrolman tried to draw out a weapon from a holster, but it got struck on the restraining strap. She swore and fumbled around trying to unhook the strap.

  Cammarry jumped up, slung the AWAD over her shoulder, and rushed outward.

  Bang! Bang! The male patrolman was wildly firing his sidearm. He chomped down on the lek stick and swallowed quickly. Through spittle and fragments of his drug, he screamed, “Cubies! Get them!”

  Both red automacubes were inert and unresponsive.

  Sprinting quickly, Cammarry reached where the patrolmen were standing. They were sluggish in their reactions, and just as the female finally got her weapon drawn, Cammarry was next to her. Cammarry kicked her legs out from under her knocking her hard to the deck. Her head struck with a sick squishing sound. The pistol went flying and landed with a clang some distance away.

  Bang! Bang!

  Two more wild shots missed Cammarry.

  Cammarry vaulted over and swung a fist which struck the shoulder of the patrolman. His gun went off again, this time into the deck. She grabbed his gun arm and pulled him into her uplifted knee. His abdomen absorbed the impact and he spit out a great quantity of air. Cammarry fro
wned as the foul breath and smell of lek washed over her, but she locked her arm around his gun arm. He continued to fire, but the pistol was now pointed past her.

  Bang! Bang!

  Cammarry butted him hard with the top of her head, striking his nose and mouth. He reeled back from the blow, blood flowing from his mouth. Cammarry held on, his arm clenched in place, her body moving with him.

  Bang! Bang!

  Wild shots went off as the entangled two twirled around, the gun behind Cammarry’s back, the patrolman trying to extract himself, and keep his balance. One bullet struck the technician who was trying to get up from the workspace at the control counter. He let out an agonized groan and limped toward the exit doors.

  She held onto the patrolman’s arm, locked under her own, as she pushed into him again. She stomped down, raking his shin and crushing onto his boot. He was taller and heavier, but moved slower and with imprecise steps. She slammed him again with her free fist. He stumbled backward, and as he moved toward Cammarry to gain his balance, she then just threw herself back that same way, heaving with all her might. She landed on her backpack, head tucked forward, the AWAD and backpack clanking into the deck. The patrolman’s wrist snapped beneath the AWAD’s bulk with a bone crunching sound. He screamed right into Cammarry’s face.

  With her free hand she punched him in the ear as violently as she could. He tried to block it with his free hand, but missed. She then jabbed her thumb into his eye. He screamed again, and with great force pulled himself off of Cammarry. His broken wrist slipped out from beneath her, the gun he had held missing. He stumbled several steps to the side, and fell to one knee. He was yelling obscenities which would have made Bigelow blush, as he rubbed his bleeding eye with his uninjured hand.

  Piff.

  Cammarry had pulled the Willie Blaster out as he lifted off of her. The high velocity projectile shot through his body, its kinetic energy knocking him over and against the large conveyors. A tank of some kind of fluids ruptured as the projectile penetrated the steel after piercing the patrolman. The amber colored fluids sprayed out in a line splashing all over the control counter.

  “Not again!” Cammarry uttered as she again thought about Terraforming.

  Looking down, she saw that the patrolman was dead in a heap at her feet. She looked at the other patrolman, the female, and she had not moved since Cammarry had knocked her to the floor. The technician was pounding on the nine-section color control pad next to the exit doors. The doors and controls looked newly repaired, but the door was not responding to his entries.

  “I have refused to open the egress point for you,” SB Sherman stated. “I am allied with the freed slaves, and not with the corrupt Parsons and slave masters who are abusing the people.”

  “Let me out! She is crazy!” the technician yelled. He slammed his palm into the controls. “In the blessed name of the Goddess Araceli, and all that is religious, let me out, now! Parson Frederich will hear of your disloyalty.”

  Cammarry picked up the gun the man she had wrestled with had used, and tossed it away. She set the AWAD to the side, dropped her backpack on the deck, and pulled out her medical kit, all while keeping the Willie Blaster aimed at the technician.

  “You have been shot,” Cammarry stated. “By that patrolman, but I will use this to heal you, if you cooperate with me.”

  “You are one of those infidels, those abolitionists! I have no idea what that torture machine is!” The technician’s eyes were glued to the medical kit. He swore and cursed. “You killed McAlister and Estefanna!” He was holding his flank where the bullet had grazed him. His clothing was somewhat bloody, but not soaking through.

  Cammarry walked over, to the female patrolman. She knelt down and looked her over. The injured patrolman was breathing, but unconscious. “This woman is not dead. I will use this to heal her. That man, I am not sure which name goes with him, yes, he is dead.”

  “You are barbaric! Let me go!” The technician turned and again pressed a series of colors on the control pad, but the door sounded a negative function. “I have the identification. You must obey me!”

  “No,” SB Sherman replied.

  Cammarry connected the wires from the medical kit to the unconscious woman and pressed the diagnose button. It read out, ‘Unknown female patient. Primary condition: recent moderate trauma with occipital condylar fractures. Subdural hematoma causing increased intracranial pressure. Prognosis guarded if no treatment applied. Secondary condition: derivatives of Banisteriopsis Caapi, and Psychotria Viridis found in all bodily tissues from long term abuse. Psychological and physical dependence very likely. Treatment to counteract those elements added to the care plan. Inject into any muscle, and apply gel under nasal passages. Full recovery expected after application.’

  A syringe slid out as well as a small packet of blue gel. Cammarry looked at the technician, and then set her Willie Blaster carefully down. She used the syringe and then spread the gel across the woman’s upper lip. The woman began to breath deeper, but as she did, Cammarry tied her boot’s laces together, and took the woman’s belt off her and bound her hands with it. It was not a secure restraint, but would inhibit the woman from attacking when she awoke.

  “You see, I have healed this one,” Cammarry said and picked up the Willie Blaster.

  “Let me go!” The technician again pounded on the control pad.

  “I could just kill you to shut you up,” Cammarry said with irritation.

  A sizzling came from back at the conveyors and fabrication apparatus. The liquids which had been pouring out of the tank were now depleted, but the fluids had caused more damage. Some smoke puffed up from parts of the large machine.

  “SB Sherman, can you reconnect SB Bodowa to do some repairs here?” Cammarry asked.

  “Unfortunately no, I cannot do that,” SB Sherman said.

  “Well, then, it seems we are at an impasse. I only need one person to answer my questions, and tell me the story of what is happening,” Cammarry said and nodded to the woman on the floor who was now opening her eyes. “She will do, and I guess you are expendable.”

  The technician fell to his knees. “Oh Goddess Araceli! Please deliver me from the hands of this heathen. Do not let her kill me, and may your punishment upon her be swift and without mercy of any kind. Let her know the terrible wrath of your revenge. Oh great Goddess Araceli, forasmuch as she has to pay, let it all be laid on her account. You commanded us to have slaves, to be sold, and to be used, and this heathen is part of those who corrupt your ways and will for us. Save me from the abolitionists.”

  “Oh shut up!” Cammarry snapped. “Or I swear I will shoot you right now!” She walked briskly over to the technician.

  He looked at her with trembling fear, but said nothing.

  Cammarry placed the Willie Blaster to the technician’s head and said, “Do not move.”

  In trembling fear he complied.

  She connected the medical kit’s wires to his side. The diagnostic read out, ‘Unknown male patient. Minor flesh wound, non-life threatening. Minor evidence of derivatives of Banisteriopsis Caapi, and Psychotria Viridis. Treatment of one trauma gel capsule.’ The blue capsule emerged from the side of the medical kit.

  “Now eat this,” Cammarry said.

  “You seek to poison me? A slow and agonizing death? You are a barbarian, a vicious and awful heathen. Oh Goddess Araceli, please…”

  Cammarry jabbed the muzzle of the Willie Blaster into his stomach. She then rammed the capsule into the man’s mouth as he yowled out. She held his mouth shut until he swallowed it. “It is not poison. It is medication, you ignorant fool.”

  The technician swallowed.

  “Now what do you know about SB Bodowa?” Cammarry asked.

  “I will never help you, not even if you offer me the antidote to your poison. Never will I help an infidel or heathen. Goddess Araceli knows my heart and devotion. You may be able to corrupt machines, but you cannot corrupt my pious heart.”

  “I did n
ot poison you, you dolt. I gave you medication. Look at your injury.”

  The technician did look down at his side, and lifted up his torn shirt. “Goddess Araceli be praised! She has heard my cries and protected me from your poisons. The Goddess proves herself yet again.”

 

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