Quantum Predation (Argonauts Book 4)

by Isaac Hooke

“Hangar bay two is breached as well,” Bax announced. “As are airlocks three and four.”

  Rade placed the video feed for hangar bay two in the upper right of his vision: the bugs were trashing the two Dragonflies, telemetry drones, and the Raptor stored in that bay.

  “Damn it!” Rade said. “Deploy some combat robots to hangar bay two, Fret!”

  “The robots are occupied defending the airlock breaches!” Fret said.

  Rade glanced at the overhead map and saw red dots swarming inside via two breached airlocks, which the spiders had obviously completely shot through by then. Four Centurions were defending each section, their backs to the breach seals that had closed behind them.

  “How the hell are they fitting in those airlocks?” Tahoe asked.

  Rade switched to the point of view of one of the Centurions.

  “It looks like the aliens sent along some smaller variants this time,” Harlequin said. “They dispatched the big guns to the hangar bays, and the babies to handle the rest of the ship.”

  The spiders he saw from the combat robot’s point of view were about half the size of humans, and easily fit the cramped passageways.

  This is a disaster.

  Surus once more emerged in her natural state, appearing as a mist in the atmosphereless compartment. When the Hoplites had cleared the first wave of intruders with her help, Surus floated up to the opening and proceeded to terminate the spiders that still clung to the hull outside. Some of the bugs released the hull, frantically releasing propellant from their tanks to thrust away. Those among the latter group that the Hoplites didn’t shoot down were handled by the Argonaut’s Vipers.

  Rade checked the external camera and saw that only three remained attached to the hull in the general vicinity. The bugs were backing away, perhaps intending to join their brethren in the second hangar bay. Surus could handle them. And if not, Electron would finish them off.

  Rade rushed to the inner hatch of the hangar’s airlock.

  “Electron, let me out,” Rade said.

  The cockpit opened and Rade leaped down from the Hoplite. The large mech wouldn’t fit inside the cramped passageways of the Argonaut.

  “Spacewalk to hangar bay two with the other Hoplites,” Rade instructed Electron. “Fumigate the bugs.”

  “Understood,” Electron said. “Good hunting.”

  “You too.” Rade retrieved the rifle from the storage compartment in the mech’s leg, then opened the airlock and rushed inside.

  “We’re coming with you, boss,” Bender said.

  Behind Rade, the other Argonauts were leaping down from their cockpits and abandoning their Hoplites. The AIs would operate the mechs instead, aiding Electron.

  Bender, Tahoe and Lui joined Rade shortly. Technically, the airlock could only fit four, but Shaw squeezed inside as well.

  “Shaw! What the hell!” Bender said. “She just grabbed my crotch, boss.”

  “You wish,” Shaw said.

  Rade sealed the outer hatch. He was pressed up against the inner door, unable to move because of the others. He could see the passageway beyond, through the portal in the door. It was clear out there.

  Atmosphere vented inside the airlock, then the door opened, relieving the pressure from the others squeezed in behind him. He stumbled forward, free of the cramped confines, and hurried toward the closest battle.

  He glanced at the overhead map: the blue dots of four more Argonauts crowded into the airlock. Ms. Bounty was standing with the governor in the hangar bay just beyond, waiting for her turn.

  “Ms. Bounty,” Rade said. “Secure our prey in the trap.”

  “As soon as I’m through the airlock, I’m heading directly for the cargo hold,” Ms. Bounty confirmed.

  Rade reached a breach seal. Beyond, according to the map, only one Centurion remained defending. Unit J. The other three in the area were offline.

  “Open the seal, Bax,” Rade ordered. He fell to one knee, and aimed his rifle forward.

  “Unable to comply,” Bax said. “Void conditions are present on the other side. Do you wish to override?”

  “I do, damn it,” Rade said. Other breach seals would prevent the entirety of the ship’s atmosphere from venting. Bax’s initial refusal was merely a safety precaution. “Argonauts, activate boot magnets. Unit J, we’re opening the seal.”

  “Roger that,” the Centurion replied.

  The breach seal opened a crack, and almost immediately Rade felt the inexorable pull of explosive decompression, which only increased as the hatch repealed further. Though his boots were mounted to the floor, his upper body was not, and he slammed a glove into the bulkhead beside him and activated the magnet to prevent himself from being bowled over.

  The explosive outflow ended before the door opened entirely. Beyond, several of the dog-sized spiders had been sucked outside. Many more had hung on with their spiky legs.

  The Centurion had mounted itself to the bulkhead, and it released the wall to land on its feet. The wreckages of the other combat robots lay strewn along the deck all the way to the airlock, where they had been pulled either by the bugs, or the decompression.

  The small spiders surged forward. The Centurion positioned itself between the bugs and the Argonauts.

  “Careful!” the combat robot said. “They fire tiny lasers attached to their joints.”

  Rade released his mounting magnets and dropped to one knee. He saw no evidence of those lasers of course, but he had no doubts about what the robot said, because as he watched the robot’s left arm fell limp.

  “Fire at will, Argonauts.” Rade aimed passed the Centurion and squeezed the trigger. The target exploded when struck, its insides misting and splattering the bulkheads.

  “Baby bugs!” Bender said. “Gonna squash me some baby bugs! Baaaaaabies! Watch out, bitches, the master exterminator is in the house! Wooyah!”

  Bender dove to the floor beside Rade and fired like a madman, taking down four bugs within a span of seconds.

  “Ah!” Tahoe said from just behind him. “I’m hit. Retreating.”

  Rade continued to fire, covering the retreat of his friend.

  The robot fell backwards, apparently out of commission. Rade caught it, and held it in front of his body like a shield.

  One of the bugs shot past, clambering along the wall to leap onto Bender.

  “Shit!” Bender said, rolling onto his back. “Damn it damn it damn it!” He flung the small spider against the bulkhead beside him and shot it with a blaster he drew from his utility belt with his free hand.

  More Argonauts arrived from behind, firing into the spiders, shoring up the defenses. They took cover behind Rade and his combat robot shield. Bender meanwhile continued to lay prostate on the floor beside him, firing frantically.

  Tahoe had apparently applied a patch to his suit, because he too returned to engage the enemy from the rear of the party, according to the overhead map.

  Rade continued firing like that for at least five minutes. And then, just like that, the bugs stopped coming. Rade glanced at the overhead map. There were no more red dots in the vicinity, neither inside nor outside the ship.

  The passageway was left a mess of severed limbs and bug corpses, their insides smearing the deck and bulkheads.

  “Man, I pity the robots stuck with cleanup duty,” Bender said.

  “Actually, we have no robots left,” Fret transmitted. “So guess who’s stuck doing the cleanup?”

  “Ah... bitches,” Bender said.

  “What’s the status on airlock four?” Rade said. He glanced at the overhead map, but couldn’t see any other red dots aboard, nor on the external hull.

  “Surus handled airlock four,” Fret said. “The baby bug boarding party has successfully been repelled. Though as I mentioned, we lost all of our combat robots.”

  “Hangar bay two?” Rade asked.

  “Electron and the other Hoplites exterminated the spiders there,” Fret said. “All mech units survived.”

  “Ms. Bount
y, what’s the status on our prey?” Rade transmitted.

  “I have the Phant locked away in the containment device,” Ms. Bounty returned. “Along with its host.”

  Rade exhaled. He felt a mixture of relief, and yet sadness for the lost lives of the combat robots.

  “Fret, get us the hell away from that alien ship,” Rade said.

  “Already gave the order half an hour ago,” Fret said. “We got no more incoming.”

  “I need to get to my quarters,” Rade said. “Tahoe, get your wound looked at. The same goes for anyone else who’s injured. TJ, you’re in command. Get the Argonauts to repair the breach damage pronto. Let me know if any issues come up.”

  “Should I set up the quarantine in the cargo hold after Surus returns to my body?” Ms. Bounty asked. “We were all exposed to the atmosphere down there...”

  “I don’t think we have to worry this time,” Rade said. He dreaded the thought of being cooped up in a glass tank for forty-eight hours with the other Argonauts. He just wanted to be left alone.

  “As you command,” Ms. Bounty said.

  Rade made his way back through the open breach seal with Shaw and Tahoe. Rade closed the seal behind him so he could pressurize the passageway along the way. He opened and closed two more breach seals blocking his route until he arrived at the stateroom he shared with Shaw. Tahoe bid him farewell and continued on toward sickbay. Apparently he was the only one injured. A quick glance at the team’s vitals confirmed that supposition.

  The hatch sealed behind Rade and he removed his helmet. His head felt frigid from the perspiration.

  “Well that was... draining,” Shaw said, removing her own.

  In answer Rade tossed aside his helmet. He left her there in the cramped compartment beside the bunk and proceeded directly to the head.

  He caught his reflection in the mirror. His hair was matted, damp. His face extremely pale.

  He locked the door, grabbed a towel and lay flat on the deck. He crumpled up the towel and placed it behind his head to act as a headrest, and then he stared unblinking up at the overhead.

  twenty-six

  Rade heard a knock at the door.

  “Rade?”

  It was Shaw.

  He closed his eyes. They were sore, scratchy, as if they’d been open for a long time. He rubbed them, and then glanced at the time overlaying his vision in the lower right. Apparently three hours had passed since he had lain down.

  Holy sh—

  “You all right?” Shaw said from the other side of the door.

  “Err, yeah.” Rade scrambled to his feet and flinched at the stiffness in his muscles. “You have to go?”

  “No, I went in my suit already,” Shaw said.

  “Oh.” Rade realized he was still wearing his own suit. He tried to remove the arm assemblies, but didn’t get very far. His hands were shaking terribly. He blamed it on low blood sugar.

  He sat down on the toilet with the lid down, fumbled for the straw near the inside of his jumpsuit collar, and took a long sip of his meal replacement supplement, finishing the last of it. He felt better, somewhat.

  No, scratch that. He felt worse.

  I’m not going to throw up.

  He swallowed several times in a row.

  Not going to throw up.

  Rade felt his gorge rise.

  I’m going to throw up.

  He dropped to his knees on the deck, opened the toilet lid, and vomited.

  Throwing up. He hated doing that. It was one of the more awful experiences of the human condition. The burning sensation as the stomach acids assailed the mucous lining of the esophagus, the pain as the peristaltic muscle convulsed in the opposite direction for which it was designed... all in all, entirely unpleasant.

  “Rade?” Shaw’s voice carried through the door.

  “Just some gases...” Rade said.

  “It sounded like you were throwing up,” Shaw said.

  “Nope.” Rade flushed the toilet, and forced himself to stand. His head was drenched in sweat. He went to the sink and washed out his mouth. Then he collapsed again, seating himself against the washstand.

  He wondered if he had been exposed to a contagion down on the surface after all. Maybe, but doubtful.

  He actually felt better now that he had purged himself.

  Still, he was extremely groggy. Dead tired.

  There was something he wanted to do... what the hell was it? Oh yeah. He had a ship to run.

  “TJ, sit-rep?” Rade transmitted.

  “We’ve plugged the breaches in both airlocks,” TJ responded. “Temporary measures, of course. We’ll have to pick up some new hatches when we return to dry dock. And I’ve dispatched the repair drones to the hull to fix the damage to the bay doors.”

  “What about the secondary hangar bay?” Rade asked.

  “Haven’t even touched it yet,” TJ said. “But looks like the Dragonflies are a write-off, and the Raptor. Telemetry drones, too.”

  “Don’t think we can write those off,” Rade said. “The insurance doesn’t cover alien infestations.”

  “Too bad,” TJ said.

  “All right, I’ll be on the bridge shortly.” Rade disconnected.

  He crawled tentatively to his feet. Feeling lightheaded, he stripped off the suit pieces as fast as he was able, and then began removing the thermal undergarment underneath; he struggled with the tight fabric, which was difficult to peel away from the hardpoints protruding from his shoulders, elbows and wrists, so that by the time he freed his torso, stars filled his vision.

  Guess I won’t be going to the bridge after all.

  He opened the head and stumbled toward the bunk, the upper half of the single-piece undergarment hanging from his waist.

  Shaw looked up at him. “Rade! Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, just feeling a little woozy,” Rade said. He lay on the bunk. “Better, now.”

  “I’m taking you to sickbay,” Shaw said.

  “After I sleep, maybe,” Rade said.

  “What were you doing in the head all this time?” Shaw said.

  “Staring at the ceiling,” Rade said.

  “Why?” Shaw said.

  Rade sighed, then closed his eyes.

  Shaw left, and Rade napped, falling into a light sleep. He woke up when the door opened again; Shaw was wheeling a Weaver inside.

  “I feel fine,” Rade said, sitting up. Phosphenes filled his vision. “Maybe not.” He lay back down.

  The Weaver examined him with those telescoping, spider-like limbs. Rade smiled sadly. He had had enough of spiders for a while.

  “Has he caught anything?” Shaw said.

  “Contagions, you mean?” the Weaver asked.

  “Yes,” Shaw said.

  “No,” the Weaver replied. “He simply has low blood sugar, and is dehydrated.” It directed its attention toward Rade. “Extend your hand.”

  Rade obeyed.

  The Weaver pricked him with one of its telescoping fingers. A cold, distant pain. “I am initiating an IV to restore your fluid and blood sugar levels.”

  Rade looked at Shaw. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

  “Actually, I do,” Shaw said. “You’d do the same for me.”

  Rade nodded. “I do feel better now, I admit.”

  “No thanks to my work,” the Weaver said.

  Rade held his hand toward Shaw, and she reached out and grabbed it. “No, it’s because of her.”

  “Humph,” the Weaver said.

  The surgical robot made Rade wait for twenty minutes before withdrawing the IV tube.

  A knock came from the hatch. Shaw opened it.

  Harlequin stepped inside. “How is he?”

  “Jeez, I’m all right,” Rade said, sitting up. “Does the whole ship know about this?”

  “Yes,” Harlequin said. “Shaw told Tahoe about you when she picked up the Weaver from sickbay.”

  “Tahoe?” Rade said.

  “Yes,” Harlequin replied. “H
e is still resting in sickbay, recovering from his wound.”

  “Ah,” Rade said. “How is he?”

  “Fine,” Harlequin said. “He’ll live.”

  “Well, now that you’re here, you might as well wheel the Weaver back to sickbay,” Rade said.

  “Glad to be of service.” Harlequin brought the robot toward the door.

  Before it left, the Weaver told Rade to “go easy on yourself for the next few days.”

  “Once again, thanks for taking care of me,” Rade told Shaw when Harlequin and the Weaver were gone.

  “Go to sleep,” Shaw said. “The Argonaut will survive without you for a few hours.”

  “Not yet,” Rade said, forcing himself to his feet. He swayed slightly, feeling suddenly dizzy, but then righted himself. He pulled off the rest of the thermal undergarment.

  “Rade...”

  “I have a ship to see out of danger,” Rade said. He grabbed fatigues from his locker and donned them.

  “You can do it from here,” Shaw said.

  “No, I want to be on the bridge.”

  “Fine, then let me help you,” Shaw said.

  “I can walk on my own,” Rade said. “But come with me. I need you to astrogate.”

  Rade still felt a little queasy, but that only told him he couldn’t down any more food for a while.

  He made it to the bridge, and was relieved when he could finally sit down. He chose his usual location at the head of the Sphincter of Doom, and Shaw assumed her position at the astrogator station.

  “Good to have you back, boss,” Lui said.

  Rade nodded distractedly. “What’s the status of the alien ship?”

  “Incredibly, the combined attacks of the mercenaries were able to drive it off,” Lui responded. “It has left orbit, and is currently retreating toward the wormhole.”

  “Never underestimate the power of a big payday on a group of mercenaries,” Rade commented.

  “Hell, I’d kill bugs all day for free,” Bender said. “But don’t tell Surus that. Come on, seriously... didn’t y’all just love that shit?”

  “You’re a cruel, sadistic man,” Manic said.

  “You know you liked it, too,” Bender said.

  “Well sure, but not as much as you,” Manic said. “For you, killing bugs is more than a sport. It’s a...”