Death Drop (The D-Evolution)

by Sean Allen

  “Don’t worry, Major, I’ll take good care of your friends.” Mia was smiling her reassurance, but it wasn’t enough to put Otto at ease.

  Otto moved quickly down the main deck and through the wide open door to Stateroom A. The interior had been sterilized by the superheated air that flowed into the compartment during reentry, and there was no trace of the contents that had once filled the room; three-and-a-half walls, a floor, and a ceiling were all that remained. Dry, hot air surged through the enormous gash in the hull and filled the space like a vaporous scavenger hoping to find a scrap of material left unincinerated by the stratosphere. He moved to the hole and peered over the edge. Several incarnations of Nori were busy building a scaffold just a few feet below the lip of the tear, and Otto could see Rilek talking to a squat, round figure whose face and exposed limbs were just a few shades lighter than the green desert sand they were standing in. The green fellow jabbed a long finger toward the damage, and Rilek turned and motioned for the major to join them.

  Otto jumped to the top level of the scaffolding. He gripped the outermost rail then leaned over the bar at the waist and flipped head over tail, landing softly on the next level. He repeated his acrobatic feat several times—moving laterally along the rail to avoid the smattering of Noris on each level—and was soon padding across the sun-baked sand.

  “Impressive,” Rilek said as Otto stopped in front of them. “I wonder what other skills you might have.”

  “How can I help?” Otto said.

  “Can you weld?” the green character croaked brusquely.

  “Major, meet Kriegel, my chief engineer,” Rilek said without taking his eyes off Otto.

  “Pleased to meet”

  “Yes, yes, I’m sure you are, but I need to know if you can weld?” Kriegel said.

  “Yes,” Otto replied.

  “Now, the question is, are you any damn good at it?” the engineer said under his breath as he turned to spit in the sand.

  “Rigs and equipment in the Aquatics Brigade have to be just as air- and water-tight as your precious ship there,” Otto said as he nodded back toward the gash in the Lodestar. “But whether I’m any good behind a welder shouldn’t matter much. The way the Triton ripped through your hull, I’d say your engineering is holding this bucket together with rust and bubble gum.”

  Rilek arched his brow in amusement at Otto’s reply. Kriegel was caught off guard and stared in surprise at the major through two large spheroids set wide apart on his broad face.

  “Care for some?” Otto said, reaching into a pouch on his belt and removing several sticks of gum. “I believe it’s spearmint.”

  “Ha!” Rilek bellowed. “I think the Major’s your man.” He was smiling under his hooked nose and shaking with quiet laughter, and Otto couldn’t help feeling a surge of pride. Kriegel’s scowl softened a little at the sound of the admiral’s chuckling.

  “He’ll do,” Kriegel croaked.

  “Major, the chief doesn’t mean to be rude, but we needed to be certain of your abilities. As you pointed out, the Triton ripped a rather large hole in our hull; the largest, actually, since I sailed her from the shipyard years ago. We’re not sure we have enough patch material to seal her back up, and that means we can’t afford any mistakes. Your welds have to be perfect.”

  “Understood, Admiral,” Otto said. “They’ll be perfect.”

  “Chief,” Rilek said.

  “Move the patch panels from the cargo hold to the scaffolding,” Kriegel instructed. “We have four load-bots in the hold; just tell’em what you need, and they’ll follow your orders. And before you ask, only one of ‘em is outfitted to weld—that’s why we need you.”

  “And you?” Otto asked. “Won’t you be joining us?”

  “Unfortunately, your friend smashed the helm to pieces, so unless you know advanced mechanical engineering and how to reprogram the flight computer, I suggest you get to work.” Kriegel was glaring at Otto, and now he knew the reason for the engineer’s caustic treatment: Malo had almost killed them all and had done his part to help wreck the Lodestar.

  “Fair enough,” Otto said flatly, then turned and headed for the cargo hold.

  ***

  Even with the load-bots, hauling the heavy sections of replacement hull from one side of the ship to the other, hoisting them into place, and then welding them into position was exhausting. Much to Otto’s relief, he wasn’t left to handle the monumental task on his own: three Noris toiled alongside him and the machines. So far, Otto had seen Nori divide himself into ten individuals, and he pictured three of them helping Kriegel, three more in the infirmary with Dr. Weiloonyu, and the remaining Nori preparing charts for their departure.

  The sun had crept slowly to its highest point, and even in the shade of the stateroom, the heat was sweltering. Otto wiped the grime from under his flipped-up welding hood with the back of his forearm as Kriegel inspected his work and Rilek looked on.

  “It’ll do,” he grunted. He was trying to look unimpressed in front of the admiral, and especially of Otto, as he ran three of his long, suction-disk tipped fingers over the seams of each panel. In actuality, Otto’s work was flawless, and the welds were every bit as good as if Kriegel had done them himself. The gruff engineer stood back, crossing his arms over his belly and looked disapprovingly at the large gap that still hung above their heads. “We just don’t have enough panels. I don’t know how much useable material we’ll get if we cut up the skiffs and the major’s little fighter in the docking bay, but it’s the only thing left to do.”

  “Do your best, Chief”

  “Admiral!” one of the Noris interrupted as he dashed over and stopped at attention. “I’ve picked up a beacon!” Otto shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. He knew that this particular Nori hadn’t picked up a beacon: he’d been hoisting panels and welding next to Otto the entire morning. He deduced that another Nori—probably the one standing on the bridge and charged with communications duty—had discovered the signal and that all of the ensign’s replicas shared some sort of mind connection.

  “Well, of course they share a connection,” Otto thought, “why wouldn’t they?”

  “Where’s the beacon coming from?” Rilek said.

  “Nineteen-and-a-half kilometers to the south.”

  Rilek raised his left arm to stroke his chin as his right arm crossed his chest and supported the other at the elbow. “Could be a trap… Chief, what’s the chance of patching the hull with pieces of the skiffs?”

  “Experience tells me to leave one of them intact in case something goes wrong and we need to evacuate. With that in mind, there’s no way we can seal that hole.”

  “Then that settles it,” Rilek said as he dropped his arms to his sides. “Major, take your Hellion fighter and Nori” Otto gave the admiral a questioning look. “Make it three Noris, and recon the beacon. Remember, we’re looking for scrap material, not trouble. If you spot any sign of the Triton or any other hostiles, get the hell back here double-time, got it?”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Otto said with a gleam in his eye. Although he didn’t mind welding, reconnaissance was one of Otto’s military specialties; a field mission was exactly what he needed right now to truly feel useful. He twirled his finger in the air to tell Nori it was time to go and they started for the exit.

  “Major,” Rilek called after him, “if there are unfriendlies out there, try not to give away our position, eh?”

  “Don’t worry, Admiral. You can’t count on me.”

  “Yes, I believe I can,” Rilek said with a wink. Otto smiled briefly at the vote of confidence and then disappeared through the portal toward the docking bay.

  ***

  It was always hard to keep track of time when you jetted from planet to planet, especially when you were on a world that didn’t seem to have any civilization to speak of. But, by the look of the sun, Otto guessed it was a few hours past midday as he and Nori skimmed the green dunes in search of the transmission coming from the north, and hop
efully something they could use to complete the patch job on the Lodestar. “Major,” Nori said as he pointed out of the viewing pane at a line of dark smoke on the horizon.

  “How far to the target?” Otto asked. Nori glanced down at the controls in front of him.

  “Three kilometers.”

  “Throttle down to twenty-five percent, and set us in the sand a click out,” Otto said.

  “In the mood for more fun in the sun, Major?” Nori quipped.

  “We don’t know who these chaps might be, and I don’t want to tell ‘em we’re here by coming in too hot. Better to scale the engines back and hike a bit to stay undetected.”

  “Aye, Major.”

  Otto took his leave, and as the Hellion approached one kilometer from the beacon, Ensign Nori pulled the throttles back. The engines were all but silent beneath the hissing wind as he gently set the ship down as ordered. The lights on the control panel were still fading when Otto returned to the cockpit with a machine gun over one shoulder and a large duffel bag over the other. He set the bag down, unzipped the top, and plunged his hands inside. He pulled out two more automatics, handing both to Nori, then fished out a third gun and several extra clips of ammunition. “Do you want to…you know…multiply or whatever, or should I put this stuff back in the bag and you can carry it by yourself?” Nori gave Otto a sly grin and then blurred into three. Now that his entire recon team was assembled, Otto flipped his webbed hand over and motioned toward the door. “After you, Ensigns.” All three Noris nodded politely as they filed past Otto onto the small main deck, then disembarked down the extended plank to the right and marched into the desert.

  They covered the distance between the Hellion and the beacon quickly and quietly and found themselves perched on the back side of a dune staring down at a ship they were all very familiar with by now. The Ghost was listing on its side, and one of its engine cowls was still burning. Otto removed the binoculars attached to his belt and studied the scene.

  “Cockpit’s dark, doesn’t seem to be any movement. Let’s move in and see if we can’t get a better view.”

  The team relocated to the back of the Ghost, but nothing changed with the new vantage point: it was still quiet. The only signs of life were the slow flicker of dying flames and thick curling smoke that rolled from the tail end of the ship and turned the pale blue sky a dingy gray. The cargo ramp was down and it listed to the side with the rest of the craft like the lolling tongue of a slain beast. Otto dialed up the zoom on his binoculars, but he couldn’t penetrate the shadows of the exposed bay beyond the ramp.

  “Doesn’t appear to be anyone home,” Otto said as he passed the binoculars to the closest Nori. The ensign nodded his consent and handed the lenses back. “We’ll flank the tail end and come up on either side of the cargo ramp out of sight from the interior of the bay.”

  The team executed their approach to the ship like they’d been working together for years and was soon on opposite sides of the extended plank. Otto peered around the corner at the Nori across the way and held up his hand with all five digits flexed out into the air. He counted down with his hand, and as soon as his forefinger was all that was left, he gripped the underside of his gun and jumped onto the incline. Otto was on one knee, sweeping the barrel of his automatic slowly across the compartment, and from the corner of his eye, he could see a Nori opposite him doing the same. The major motioned forward with one arm, and a Nori on each side stepped carefully around the cover positions and moved inside the bay.

  The team swept the entire ship, clearing each room one by one. It was deserted. It was also picked clean. There were no weapons left in the armory and no supplies. Otto wore a puzzled look as he turned them all around and headed back to the cargo hold. He stood in the shadows and scratched his head as he looked around.

  “What is it, Major?” Nori asked.

  “Most of the ship’s been turned upside down,” he said. Otto pointed his gun toward the ceiling, and the light under his barrel showed four torched collars swaying on their cables. “But the bay’s not quite empty.” He brought his beam back down and shined it in front of them.

  Nori was so focused on securing the location, he didn’t even notice until Otto pointed it out, but there they were—four cargo containers still locked down to the floor. “Something might’ve happened to their loading equipment,” Nori offered. “Or they were afraid someone else might show up before they got it all.”

  “Or they didn’t want what was inside,” Otto said as he trained his light on the end of a container. Nori moved in closer to find a patch of the corrugated box had been cut away. He turned back to find the major grinning from ear to ear, and he gave Otto an unsure look.

  “I completely forgot what was in these things until I spotted the holes and wondered what could be so worthless that scavengers would let it rot. Rilek set up the run and provided the cargo: scrap and spare parts from hacked-up derelicts on Flanagar. Useless junk unless you need it to patch a hole in your ship that’s the size of a small moon, and then it’s priceless!” Otto paused his happy lecture as the beam of his light caught something sticking out of one of the containers. He stepped around and moved closer, scrutinizing the long shaft of metal in front of him.

  “It looks like a harpoon pushed through from the other side,” he said. “Now, what do you suppose that’s all about?” Nori didn’t seem to have any theories, and the only thing the ensign could think to do was shrug his shoulders as he headed for the back of the ship and open air.

  Otto squeezed the com link strapped around his neck to activate it and reported the good news. There was still a chance that whoever had ransacked the ship would be back for the cargo, but Rilek agreed that if the pillagers had the technology to look into the containers, they probably had the equipment to take it if they found anything worth their while inside. As a precaution, Otto recorded the exact coordinates of the crash site and turned off the ship’s beacon.

  The team was in good spirits after a job well done, and each of the Noris bounded from the cargo ramp, their spry leaps into the air as light as their shared mood. The green sand swallowed most of Otto’s feet as he plopped down after the last Nori, and he froze solid. The sense of satisfaction he had been feeling after commanding a successful mission under Admiral Rilek, and the silly shit-eating grin he was wearing because of it, withered and died, blowing away in a shrill wind of fear. Although he had never actually seen a Mewlatai in person, he knew exactly what they looked like—after all, they were legendary creatures—and, judging by the sifting of the sand, the tracks he was staring at said one had been standing at the tail end of the Ghost just minutes before they arrived.

  Otto followed the marks with his eyes, and he noticed another set of prints. He bent down and examined the new shapes. Whoever had left them was walking backward. “Scared out of his wits and retreating from the sword-carrying maniac is more like it,” Otto thought as he stood up and followed the two sets of tracks. He walked carefully up the side of the ship with his gun at the ready, glancing down at the ground and then up again. The Noris had picked up on his change of tack and were now fanning out behind him. He could see that both sets of prints stopped just a few yards ahead, in front of two bright spots in the sand. There was something resting in a dark liquid, and as he stepped closer, Otto could see that the lights were reflections from two lenses. It was a pair of mechanic’s goggles, and they were sitting in a rather large pool of blood. His gut told him to get out, and this time he didn’t mind listening as he signaled the Noris to head back to the Hellion double-time.

  It took them several trips to move all the containers, and despite Otto’s apprehension about the Mewlatai, Rilek decided that it was worth the risk. He ordered all ten Noris—apparently ten was the maximum number of Noris—to join the mission, and each was well armed. The crash site had to be secured each time they came back, and by the time they loaded the last container, the sun’s light had softened into hues of red and purple.

  ***
>
  Night fell and without the sun, the desert wind bit with a stinging cold. Otto woke with a sudden jerk and looked around the unfamiliar setting. He was scared at first; visions of being sliced to ribbons by the rogue Mewlatai had terrorized his sleep. But then he realized the bed he was in was far too comfortable for him to be in any danger. He was in one of the luxurious staterooms aboard the Lodestar. He flopped his head back on the soft down pillow and yawned, thinking about the last thing he remembered before waking up in his lavish surroundings.

  Kriegel was having trouble with the flight controls—a fact that made him even more abrasive toward Otto than he had been when they first met. The surly engineer reminded Otto on several occasions that it was his man that was responsible for the mess they were in. Kriegel volunteered to work through the night, and Otto had done the same, when Rilek ordered him to take a stateroom and get some rest. He protested at first, but the mere mention of sleep instantly wracked his body with an unbelievable lethargy that made it hard to think, let alone weld. Otto realized he hadn’t had any shut-eye in over four days. Rilek promised him that the containers would still be stacked in the sand come morning, and there would be plenty of work for him to do. He smiled as he remembered Rilek’s final words of goodnight, “Good job today, Major,” and the crisp salute he gave as Otto floated down the main deck to his room in a numbing haze of exhaustion.

  He flipped the switch on the elaborate lamp next to his bed, and the soft glow revealed the plush accommodations Otto was beginning to expect from Rilek. “Man, this guy knows how to live,” he said as he admired the beautiful paintings and furniture throughout the room. He slipped on his uniform and walked out into the hall. Otto wasn’t sure what time it was exactly, but he was certain it was before dawn and he wanted to accomplish two things before the work day began: get something to eat and have his meal under the kind of twinkling, magnificent night sky that only a place completely devoid of people can provide.