by Jim C. Hines
Kumar glanced up. “Sorry, what?”
“You said the Krakau bodies were in good shape. What was the cause of death?”
He frowned. “I . . . I’m not sure. I was looking for venom glands. It didn’t occur to me to check anything else.”
“Were they killed by feral humans?”
“No way. Ferals would have torn the bodies apart.”
Mops centered her gun’s crosshairs on Azure’s torso. “You knew the ship would change course automatically if a Rokkau was detected on board. If Kumar hadn’t spotted your hidden compartment, you or Squarm would have found a way to tip us off, right? Because you wanted to get to Dobranok.”
“Why would she want to go there?” asked Wolf.
Mops watched Azure. The Rokkau hadn’t moved, but the tightness of her skin had eased. “Because they modified their venom to kill Krakau. What else is on that shuttle?”
“Assorted terraforming technology,” Azure said quietly. “Modified for high-dispersal atmospheric seeding. And enough weaponized venom to rain down on an entire world. Once we arrive, the Krakau will tow this ship to their high-security prison and processing facility in orbit. My shuttle will automatically attempt to escape. Naturally, the Krakau will shoot it down, triggering activation of the terraforming engines. Depending on wind patterns and ocean currents, we could infect and kill ninety-eight percent of the population within three days.”
Ship’s communications were offline. They couldn’t warn the Krakau. The bay doors were locked, and handheld weapons weren’t enough to blast them open, meaning there was no way to get the shuttle off the Pufferfish. “Kumar, how hard would it be to power up the A-rings on one of our shuttles and destroy the ship?”
“We’d have to bypass some safety fail-safes,” said Kumar. “But judging by how many times I blew us up in the tutorials, I think I could do it.”
Grom raised their head. “Sir, may I respectfully suggest we search for a plan that doesn’t involve all of us dying in an explosion?”
“I’m open to suggestions,” said Mops, her gaze never leaving the Rokkau. “Your people ended my civilization. I’ll destroy this ship before I let you do it again.”
“Earth’s fate was an accident,” said Azure, a pleading note in her words. “I wasn’t lying about that. It was the Krakau who chose to abandon your people, just as they chose to kill and imprison ours. They’re not worth protecting.”
“The fact that you’re poised to commit genocide undermines your judgments on ethical matters. Kumar, activate a shuttle A-ring.”
Even with her attention focused on Azure, Mops almost missed the small twitch of one of her tentacles. With a soft spitting sound, something shot from the end of the tentacle.
Mops shifted her aim and pulled the trigger. The plasma blast burned through the tentacle and blackened the wall behind Azure. Her severed limb dropped to the floor, where it continued to twitch like a snake suffering a seizure. Azure whistled in pain, the high-pitched sound grating on the bones of Mops’ inner ears.
“Is everyone all right?” she called out.
“I’m not registering any suit breaches,” said Doc.
“You can’t stop this.” Azure huddled in a ball, dark blood oozing from the burnt stub of her limb.
Mops adjusted her gun’s power levels. “What did you do?”
“Haven’t you wondered how your crew were first infected? The Prodryans designed the weapon. It fires a specially coated sliver of metal. As the sliver punctures your suit, the coating peels off to seal the hole. The core enters your body and breaks down, leaving nothing but a pinprick and perhaps a tiny bruise on the skin. Your suit never detects the impact. I’m sorry, Kumar. I wouldn’t have infected you if your commander hadn’t forced me.”
Kumar paled. He patted down his suit, searching for the impact site. Wolf and Monroe had both drawn weapons.
Azure’s remaining three tentacles snapped out to point at them. “I never wanted to be a killer. Heart of Glass ordered the weapons implanted in me for protection. Drop your guns, or you’ll spend your final hours like Kumar, struggling to cling to your thoughts and memories while your mind melts through your fingers. Please, just do as I ask. I promise, once this is over, I’ll cure both your navigator and the rest of your crew. I’m not your enemy.”
Mops didn’t move. “What do you want?”
“You were right about our plan, all except one detail,” said Azure. “I’m not going to destroy the Krakau. You are.”
Plotjikk Contractors and Builders:
Limited Warranty
This warranty is for cruiser-class brig/cells for the EMCS Pufferfish.
THIRTY MONTHS/THIRTY PRISONERS: Warranty commences on the date construction and installation are completed and approved by the customer. Warranty is good for thirty Tjikko months (701 Earth days) or for the first thirty prisoners confined in the cell, whichever comes first.
COVERAGE: Cells are guaranteed to safely contain prisoners of all known intelligent races. Should any prisoner escape due to manufacturing defect, customer shall be entitled to a full refund for the purchase price of the cell in question. The following exclusions apply: Damage to cells caused by ship-to-ship combat.
Failure to properly search and remove weapons, welding equipment, electronic lock picks, molecular acids, and other such tools from prisoners.
Use of technology that was unknown at time of construction, such as interdimensional portals, matter transmutation, teleportation of any form, or temporal manipulation (time travel).
Any escape in which guards played a role, willingly or unwillingly, including but not limited to: The “sick prisoner” routine.
The “brawling prisoners” routine.
Psychological manipulation by prisoner.
Bribery.
Failure to follow proper maintenance and inspection protocols, per attached guidelines.
SPECIFICATIONS: Per the contract, the cell shall feature: × Full-spectrum lighting controls
× Upgraded electronic surveillance & monitoring (Standard EMC Package)
× Universal plumbing attachment
☐ Upgraded autowash
× Electronic signal-blocking
☐ Full range of calming music for all species (NEW!)
WARRANTY CLAIMS: Cell must be inspected by a certified Plotjikk Contractors team within seven days of any escape.
Thank you for your business! We look forward to serving all your future prisoner-containment needs.
—The Plotjikk Contractors Team
“THIS IS MY THIRD favorite cell in the Pufferfish.” Wolf lay on the floor with her hands laced behind her head, staring at the featureless ceiling. Azure had packed them all into cell number four. It was crowded, but not quite as bad as the escape pod the humans had been trapped on after Coacalos Station.
“The cells are identical,” snapped Kumar.
“Not true. Cells one and two are closest to the guard station, meaning you can keep an eye on what’s happening and make conversation. The even-numbered cells have slightly better water pressure for the sink and toilet. Cell seven has a recurring mold problem in the ceiling.”
Mops sat on the cot, staring at the transparent door and wondering how long it would take for Kumar to succumb to Azure’s venom. “Monroe, can you. . . . ?”
He shook his head and popped his gum. “Arm isn’t strong enough to scratch that stuff. A gun could put a hole through it, sure, but that’d just trigger the prisoner suppression routine. Electrify the floor or seal the cell and suck all the air out or activate internal weapons to blow our legs off, depending on which features the EMC sprang for when they commissioned it.”
“What do we do with Kumar?” asked Wolf. “Shouldn’t we tie him up or something before he tries to eat our faces?
No offense.”
“For once, I agree with Wolf,” said Grom.
Kumar threw an obscene gesture their way. He’d donned hood and gloves within minutes of being shot, sealing his suit and hopefully preventing him from contaminating anyone else as the venom worked through his system.
“Doc, can you do anything about getting the door open?”
“I’m cut off from the rest of the ship. No signals in or out of the brig area, except what’s hardwired through the guards’ stations. Sorry.”
Mops turned in a slow circle, surveying their limited resources and options. Movement outside the cell caught her attention. Outside the clear door, Squarm drew up to their full height. “Lieutenant Adamopoulos. You will read a message to the Krakau, claiming responsibility for the attack on Dobranok and denouncing their genocidal war against the Rokkau. Your proclamation will spread the seeds of rebellion across the galaxy. After you’ve done this, I will cure your man.”
They held up a metal tube, similar in size and shape to a standard food tube. “This is the counteragent. It successfully neutralized and protected a human tissue sample from the modified form of Azure’s venom. It will save him.”
“What do you want me to say?” asked Mops.
Squarm set the tube on the floor and pulled out a paper note written in crude Human, which he pressed to the door. Mops and the others crowded to read it.
Doc was the first to say what everyone was thinking. “I’m no literary critic, but this reads like something Puffy might compose. After overheating.”
“It’s awful,” Mops agreed.
Wolf snorted. “‘Greetings, galactic oppressors’? How’s anyone supposed to read that with a straight face?”
“The alignment of your face is irrelevant,” snapped Squarm. “You will read the words and proclaim yourselves allies to the Prodryan rebellion.”
“You misspelled ‘revolution,’” said Kumar. “And ‘glorious.’ And ‘injustice.’ You know, you could have had the computer check and clean this up for you.”
“They don’t want any version of the message in the system,” guessed Mops. She checked the countdown on her monocle. Ninety-two minutes until they jumped. “I’m sorry, humans don’t talk like this. Nobody’s going to believe me saying, ‘Rise up, my fellow human savages. Our monstrous appearance and primitive need for violence shall serve the evil Krakau no longer!’ Have you considered stealing from Shakespeare? He wrote great vengeful dialogue.”
“Who is Shakespeare?” demanded Squarm.
“Gunnery sergeant on the EMCS Crocodile,” said Monroe.
Mops ignored them both. “‘I’ll never pause again, never stand still, till either death hath closed these eyes of mine, or fortune given me measure of revenge.’ It’s from Henry VI.”
“Much better,” agreed Monroe.
Squarm snapped their digging claws in annoyance. “There is nothing wrong with my words!”
“Why are you part of this rebellion anyway?” asked Mops. “I can understand why Azure and the other Rokkau would want to team up with the Prodryans, but how did they get Glacidae and Nusurans on board?”
“What the Krakau did to their Coldwater kin, they’ll do to anyone else who threatens their power,” said Squarm. “They control the Alliance Military and Technological Councils. The Alliance Charter benefits the Krakau and their colonies over other worlds. If another species dares to challenge them, the Alliance imposes sanctions and worse. And always they hold the threat of their human army over the heads of the galaxy.”
“Earth year 2169,” said Kumar. “The Alliance evacuates the Glacidae colony of Dexatellevar 2 after severe solar flares, saving three thousand lives. 2216, the EMC liberates the Quetzalus planet of Ventazos from a military dictatorship. 2224, the Siege of Avloka. Hundreds of humans die while rescuing thousands of Krakau prisoners and slaves from the Prodryans.”
“Not to mention last week, when the Pufferfish arrived to protect a Nusuran ship from Prodryan pirates,” added Mops. “Do you have any idea how many lives that human army has saved since its founding?”
“There’s a difference between security and freedom,” the Glacidae shot back. “Look at what they’ve done to your race. A population of ten thousand, embracing servitude to the very race that destroyed your civilization.”
“Squarm has a point,” Wolf said quietly. “I’m still planning to punch their face as soon as I get out of here, but if the Krakau did this to us . . . if they kept the truth hidden all these years . . . I mean, fuck those guys.”
“Articulately put, as always,” sighed Mops.
“Take some time to discuss your options,” said Squarm, retrieving the cure canister from the floor. “But not too long. That one will begin feeling the effects soon.” They jabbed a segmented limb toward Kumar.
“You see, that’s where you lose my sympathy,” said Mops. “Humans may not be the smartest species in the galaxy. We struggle to wrap our brains around big, abstract concepts like centuries-long conspiracies. What we’re very good at is recognizing and responding to immediate threats. You attacked my ship. You infected a member of my team. That makes you the enemy.”
“Shortsighted fools,” snarled Squarm.
“Maybe.” Mops walked to the small toilet. With the lid sealed, the cube doubled as an uncomfortable stool, allowing her to rest her legs. Her lips quirked as a new idea began to come together. “But when you’re ready to apologize, you know where to find me.”
The Glacidae stared at her through the door. “Apologize?”
“And give us the cure.” Lowering her voice, she said, “I don’t care which comes first, the apology or the cure. Once we have both, I’ll consider letting you live.”
Squarm backed away. “Humans are crazy.”
“You have no idea,” said Wolf.
The translator failed to capture whatever the Glacidae said next before storming away.
“Something about lower life-forms, incapable of thinking beyond their base instincts,” said Doc. “With a few insults toward your parentage.”
“Sir, Wolf is right,” Kumar whispered, once Squarm was out of sight. “You should restrain me while you can, before I—”
“Not necessary,” said Mops. “We’re not staying here.”
Wolf threw up her hands. “I’ve been on the wrong side of that door more times than anyone. There’s no way through it. Not even a Quetzalus could bust these walls.”
“Stop thinking about breaking things,” Mops suggested. “We’re not infantry. We’re SHS. Doc, I’m going to need you to do something for me.”
“I told you, I’m locked up just like the rest of you. I can’t even access the basic ship’s information log from in here.”
“That’s why I want to apologize in advance.” She stood. “Remind me; you are impact resistant and waterproof, right?”
It took roughly fifteen minutes for Squarm to return, leaving a trail of dark fear-oil on the floor as they scrambled to the door of cell four. “What did you do?”
Mops blinked in mock confusion. “Pardon?”
“You preprogrammed the ship’s systems,” Squarm guessed. “An automated safeguard. Tell me how to disable it, or I’ll infect the rest of you.”
“Nobody on my team has that kind of expertise.” Mops turned. “Grom, did you program any automatic safeguards while we were on Coacalos Station?”
“Nope. Rewired a few bridge stations and beat some high scores, but I’m not the best programmer. I wouldn’t know how to—”
“Why won’t the main brig door seal?” Squarm pounded the console at the guards’ station.
“Because of the emergency ventilation procedure,” said Mops. “It’s designed to circulate a large volume of fresh air through the ship as quickly as possible, which means most doors are locked open.”
“But they’re coming!” Squarm squea
led.
“Who?” Wolf’s words dripped with forced innocence.
“Your crew! Those monsters are loose in the ship!”
“Well, yes,” said Mops. “Who do you think the fresh air is for? I don’t think it’s healthy to keep them restrained for so long. And I thought you and Azure might want to see the effectiveness of your bioweapon up close.”
Squarm reared up so their segmented underside pressed against the cell door. “You have to—”
“No, I don’t.” Mops stood and stretched her shoulder before walking slowly to the door. “Apology and cure, in whatever order you prefer. Or you can stay out there and try your luck against almost two hundred feral humans.”
“How?” the Glacidae whimpered. “You were locked up, cut off from the rest of the ship.”
“There aren’t a lot of systems an AI can access and control on his own.” Mops directed a knowing look at the toilet in the corner. “Doc couldn’t turn the ship’s internal security measures against you or anything like that. But he could activate the emergency ventilation subroutine and release the acceleration pod restraints on the crew, once I got him beyond the cell’s signal-dampening. If I’m remembering the plumbing setup for this part of the ship, he should be about ten meters down, trapped in waste reclamation tank three.”
“Nine point seven meters,” Kumar corrected.
Squarm produced a small pistol, which they clutched in trembling claws.
“Bad idea,” said Monroe. “A little gun like that against feral humans? You’re just gonna get them riled up.”
Mops pressed against the door, trying to see past Squarm to the end of the hallway. “Does anyone else hear groaning?”
Squarm let out a low belch of fear. “If I let you out, can you stop them?”
“Let us out?” Mops laughed. “Child, this cell’s one of the safest places in the whole bloody ship.”