Outward Borne

by R. J. Weinkam

  LePan saw the Cathians burst into the passage. She was cut off from the shuttle and, without any protective covering, she feared making contact with them. LePan turned and scuttled back toward a large dark brown block building, disappeared through its heavy door, and slammed it shut behind her.

  It was the first time any alien had ever seen an ObLaDa and the Cathians were stunned. It was big and agile, probably very strong, definitely slimy, and that sucking mouth seemed to gleam with menace. After the shock of the encounter, they followed the thing to its low sprawling refuge.

  Laboratories, dissection rooms, and operations buildings had been built wherever needed within the large open medical deck and now the Cathians were loose within that maze of buildings. Pok went around the low, single story structure to see if she could trap the Da inside its set of rooms. She was surprised at how large the irregularly shaped building was. Fortunately, there were only a few openings and these Pok tried to block by tying them shut. It might not prevent the ObLaDa from getting out, but it would slow it down. The air was hot and strangely heavy. It made her skin hurt.

  A file of six Sticks flowed into the laboratory as Til was detaching the portable lights and piling them onto her cart. Surprised, she spun around to look at them and knocked her head against an overhanging rack. The Sticks formed an ark around Til and followed her every move with a series of coordinated dips and bows. She ignored her fan club and pushed the heavily laden cart to the double doors. She readjusted her mask and propped the doors open to get the cart through the air lock. The Sticks followed, they could breathe the air, it seems, and the stink did not affect them, but the foul stench and hazy atmosphere of the ObLaDas chambers bothered Til even through her breathing mask. She pushed it around on her face trying to make a better seal while looking into the dark hallways to locate Zep and Pok. There was no sign of them. Her eyes began to water. She thought it was from the smelly oils. She fumbled her way through the dark corridor. As she was about to reach the conduit, the Sticks spread out in front of her, bodies low and parallel with the floor and with an exchange of clicks they formed up in a wedge and went across the hall and between the buildings opposite. Til had no better option than to follow.

  Once in the next corridor, she could see Zep and Pok outside of the ObLaDas’ old building. She ran as fast as she could with the awkward cart, leaving the Sticks behind. Pok and Zep considered blockading the ObLaDa within the complex. They were reluctant to break in to find who-knows-what waiting there, but when Til arrived, they saw that she had only a few small air tanks. Time would be limited. They decided to enter the building and lock the door behind them. There were only three of them in the maze, so they had no choice but to turn their backs on any threat from beyond and take their chances with whatever was inside.

  They exchanged their spears for short picks that would be more effective in confined spaces and went into the darkness. Pok held up a light to see what she could. They were in a small empty entryway with connecting narrow corridors, all streaked by the slimy ObLaDas. The oils, or whatever was on their body, had turned black with age giving the place a grimy decrepit look, but nothing in there moved. They knew that their every step could be watched. With no ability to surprise and being unprepared and probably outnumbered, Pok decided to use a full speed rush against any force they encountered. All or naught! Hopefully, the effect of their full weight concentrated on a narrow front might carry them through. They would move side-by-along the hallways until they found the Hag.

  The Cathians moved deep into the interconnected rooms, taking chances, bypassing doorway after doorway. The floors were sticky and the walls too scrummed to touch. It was becoming clear that the Da was not going to stand against them itself and would probably rely on its robotics. They had fought against the bots often enough and had beaten them, but the real weapons they feared were the flybots and their darts. It was, in fact, the only effective weapon the ObLaDas possessed. None of the robots carried any real arms; they were workers with worker’s tools, still they could do damage if they got close enough to use their short limbs, sharp blades and strong clamps. The farther the Cathians moved into the complex, the more certain Pok was that the Da had gone to the far end of this nest of rooms and was hiding behind as many protective bots as it had. They kept moving, with every step increasing the risk of being attacked from behind. It was an obvious strategy, hide a few bots in rooms along the corridor and wait for them to pass by, it would be easy enough to surround any invader, but it did not happen.

  The Cathians moved far into the compound before they met the robots, a mass of them standing ready in a high open space. It was the largest opening that they had seen so far. Four corridors converged in the circular atrium and two ramps led to an overhanging second level. It was only about ten, maybe twelve paces across, not so large. The bots stood as barriers before three hallways, the Cathians were in the fourth. Pok took a few steps into open space directly across from the largest mass of bots. They moved closer together as she did so. A large service bot, several lightly armed maintenance bots and the lightweight but quick spider bots were grouped before each of the openings. Some were holding pointed objects, but they were not armed with anything that could be dangerous, unless they got too close, that was the problem. No flybots were around, but Pok motioned toward the upper level indicating that the site could give the flybots room to descend upon them. There were fewer bots than the Cathians had feared. Still, if the machines were able to combine their numbers and surround them, there would be trouble. Even the small bots had a tight mechanical grip and you could not shake them off once they had hold of a piece of flesh. Pok discounted retreat into the maze of hallways. They might be able to find a way around the courtyard, but if the bots got behind them, they could easily become trapped in some dead end corridor. The Da would not even need to fight them, just wait for their air to run out.

  The bots appeared to be disorganized, however, maneuvering around to sort out positions, some standing still as if shut down, while others bumped into one another following some command. Perhaps the Da was having trouble controlling all of these machines at the same time. Pok thought they might have gained some small advantage by getting to the bots faster than expected, so she moved quickly to keep whatever edge they had. She led the three well-armored Cathians and their cart at a fast walking pace toward the nearest exit. The bots made no move. She turned to the middle hallway; this caused a reaction, a few bots from both sides moved toward the center. It was what Pok hoped to see. The ObLaDa did not want them to enter the middle way, so that is where they would go.

  On her signal, the three Cathians charged into the bots. If they moved fast enough, they could drive straight into and hopefully through the group. They might be able to enter the narrow corridor beyond before any flybots came out of hiding, but there were no flybots on that deck, never had been. Within seconds, the Cathians hit the front line of large bots, pushing these unarmed masses aside to reach the more dangerous spider bots. They hoped to ruin each bot with a single well-placed metal-piercing blow and keep a row of newly dead bots between themselves and the sharp knives of anything still active. The bots crowded together each trying to follow their program to slash or grapple with the aliens and as they did so, they became too tightly packed. The Cathians were able to slide the lightweight bots against one another where they became tangled and immobilized, losing both their ability to maneuver and use of their weapons. Still a low boxy thing had a grip on Zep’s foreleg and twisted enough to open a cut. It took several blows before the thing dropped off, each hit painful as the wound worsened. The Cathians overmatched the muddled bots once again and could have destroyed most of them, but with only three fighters, no further casualties could be risked.

  With a last swing at a spider bot, Pok broke free of the mass, and with a brief look to confirm that Zep and Til were still with her, she ran into the hallway beyond the cluttered plaza. The Cathians held a desperate hope that the ObLaDa would be hiding in th
e back of the complex, having run as far away as it could get. So now, with Til stationed in a narrow passage to block any bots from following, Pok and Zep moved on, this time they searched each room they came to. They were right.

  LePan had lost track of the Cathians while she was trying to control the bots. She was frustrated. Those things really were helpless doing anything that differed from their routine. She was standing in the small communications room, the image of Buth NuTet, Captain of the Outward Voyager for the last sixty years, displayed before her. Zep pushed open the door. LePan turned in surprise, shocked that they had gotten through the complex so quickly. Buth NuTet watched, disgusted. LePan was bigger, quicker and faster than the Cathians, in spite of her bulk, and easily dodged past them and out into the corridor. She was not sure and then remembered a door not too far away. She might still escape in the waiting shuttle. Pok followed LePan with her low undulating gait, while Zep, limping, went out the far door into the next hallway and headed toward the rear of the complex. The Cathians came down both sides of the corridor as LePan tried to force open the very exit doors that Pok had long since tied shut, unfortunately for her, from the outside. Even though the ObLaDa outweighed the stocky Cathians, she did not put up a fight. LePan stood passively as Pok hobbled her rear legs, looped a line around her forearm, and led poor LePan back to the communication room. Buth NuTet had told her she would not survive contact with the aliens and, if that were to occur, he would consider her dead already. No wonder she succumbed.

  Zep was elated. This was the hoped for but unexpected culmination of her plan. With the captured Da in full view and with operational communications, they would be able to make their demands known and force the Hags to listen. Still, communicating would be a problem, as the ObLaDas had only a minimal understanding of the Cathian language. Then again, it should not be hard to guess what a rebellious captive species that had been forcibly transported from their home might wish.

  As soon as she entered the room, Zep could see the image of another ObLaDa on the large wall screen. She pulled LePan forward to make it clear that it was under their control. LePan said some words, very calmly in Zep’s opinion. The image on the screen did not make much of a response and, without saying anything, it moved away. A few seconds later, the lights, the screen, and all power in that level of the anti-module went off. LePan cried out and collapsed to the floor, surprised by the sudden blackout. The ObLaDas, it seemed, had not mastered the negotiation concept, or maybe they had, but rather not. On the far side of the deck, the shuttle quietly moved out of the antimodule.

  The initial shock of the shutdown and the apparent disregard for their follow ObLaDa was soon replaced by a sense of confusion. Zep’s plan had run its course. Pok, as was becoming typical, attempted to find a way to recoup their situation. They could still function as long as their air supply and portable lights held out. They had one captured Da as a bargaining tool, of doubtful worth, and they could not go back. From the start, they were on a one-way chance with long odds and limited resources. Pok decided to run for the shuttle tube and move through it toward the ObLaDa habitat. They would take the risk, their plan never had much chance of success from the start, an act of defiance became her goal, and she would pursue it to the limit.

  Chapter 9 Worthless Hostage

  Zep trussed up the sad and confused LePan while Til rigged lights to the front and rear of the cart. The three together hefted LePan’s bulky body onto the top and stuck supplies into whatever space remained. They went out into the deserted deck. Pok tied the door closed from the outside. They did not expect to be pursued by the leaderless house bots, but why make it easy for them to try? The three plus LePan took off at a fast pace toward the shuttle. No bots or Sticks or any moving thing could be seen.

  The large circular conduit passed through the connecting arm and the modules. Both of the shuttle tubes ran along the inside of conduit tube and most of the remaining space, that not taken up by the pipes, wires, load baring cables and supporting beams, was given over to the heavy truck lift that could move construction materials and large loads throughout the ship. Pok and Zep came to the distinctively painted shuttle door and wedged it open. It was the one they had been through. Zep stuck her head into the open tube. The shuttle itself was nowhere to be seen. The empty tube disappeared into the darkness below and up through the Filim anti-module, where some light could be seen far above. They considered climbing up the tube, there was a ladder of sorts, but the distance to the habitat module was too great for that.

  Zep picked up one of the lights and went off to look around the conduit exterior. She found two large wide doors to the right of the shuttle that were much too heavy to budge. There was a smaller access door just beyond, a regular entry, not locked, Zep opened it and stepped onto a small landing. She could make out a platform some way below and climbed down a supporting pillar to get to it. Each step shot a sharp pain up her injured leg. It hurt, she thought, much more than it should.

  Zep walked onto a flat five-sided platform that was around ten paces across. The contraption was attached to four heavy cables that ran the length of the module and off into the darkness. To the side, a dim light glowed inside a small hut on what looked like a simple control panel. The self-propelled heavy-duty lift sat just below the medical deck and, using the control rod, she was able to slowly raise the platform to the floor level. As soon as she stopped the lift, a switch lit up on the conduit wall, and Zep was able to open those vast doors. Pok and Til were waiting there and wheeled their cart with its restless cargo onto the platform. Up, they decided, and with Zep at the controls, they set off.

  The conduit contained all if the air, water and vacuum pipes, power and communications cables, anything that might need repair or could not withstand the harsh cold of the uninsulated arm itself. All of that complexity disappeared when Til switched these off the lamps to keep their position hidden. They passed the anti-mod decks, one after another, into the darkness until the lift came to the top of the module. The lift slowed by itself as it approached the barrier. The bulkhead door opened automatically. A rush of the heavy hot air accompanied them as the lift moved up into a small space and the lower door slid shut behind them. Zep, momentarily chilled with fright, felt trapped within the air lock, but soon the upper bulkhead door slid open. This time the warm air left with a whoosh and was immediately replaced by cold, very cold, very thin air of that long dark shaft.

  Outside the conduit, the arm was near the vacuum of outer space and held only enough inert gas, mostly helium, to preserve the metal fame and keep the internal temperature high enough to prevent damage to the bots or any materials that need enter. The interior of the conduit was better protected, warmer, but still cold, and it now contained a thin ObLa atmosphere that had built up over the centuries as a little anti-mod air seeped in each time the bulkhead opened. No Da could enter that space without a protective suit. It was the world of the bots.

  The Cathians runched their skin to withstand the cold, and huddled together in the control hut. The lift moved slowly up through the cluttered conduit, LePan, unused to the freezing temperature, began to suffer. The lower portion was quite dark, but as they moved farther along, they came upon isolated lights, like a train passing a lone farm in the night. Zep took hope that they had found a way to pursue the ObLaDas, but Pok grew increasingly concerned. In spite of the cold, she went and poked around the empty platform. She had to hold on to the floor slats and metal tracks as the simulated gravity decreased. She viewed the platform as one large platter serving them up for the carving. The lift could be a one-way trip into an ambush. The Hags or their robots would be prepared for them, she thought, they would not just allow them to move all the way through the ship unopposed.

  They passed by a shelf stacked with spare construction materials. Pok called for Zep to stop and go even with the storage shelf. Large wall panels, beams, premade boxes and used bins were piled up and held in place by large nets. Pok went to the edge on the platform a
nd leapt onto the storage shelf, she was surprised at how far she traveled. Cathians could not jump on Cathia. The lift had taken them more than half way through the rotating arm where only the low gravity made it possible for the Cathians to drag the massive beams onto the platform and stack them up like logs. They placed wall panels in layers over the hut to make a sturdy roof. It might afford some protection in case of an attack. Pok collected rods, poles and some solid looking connection clamps, whatever might serve as a weapon. Til cut off a large section of the net and fixed it across the width of the pallet, tying it down where she could. It should hold things in place and might tangle up some bots if they were attacked.

  As the lift began to move again, there was a pronounced scratching, scraping sound. Zep went to the edge of the platform to see if anything was hanging over the side. Turning back toward the others, she stopped with a start. Three Sticks were arranged before her, in a typically straight line, with identical postures, all oriented in her direction. Zep had not seen them follow her onto the lift. Smiling in spirit, she waved them onto the platform, but the Sticks did not follow. Instead, they pointed their tubular bodies in different directions, rocking themselves along that line. Til knew enough by now to realize they had something else in mind, so she gestured them on their way. The Sticks went off, each in a different direction, scampering over the nets, inspecting the barriers and weapon stashes. After a thorough look, they returned and lined up in front of Til. Again she invited them to come further. They declined. Two of the Sticks turned to point away from the opening, while the third could not resist stepping toward LePan and giving her a poke. All three went off and disappeared over the edge of the pallet. They did not seem to mind the cold or the air, what little there was of it.