The blast was followed within seconds by a terrific gust of wind that rushed into the conduit from the ObLaDa habitat. The force of the explosion had ruptured the air lock and the pressurized, oxygen-rich air rushed into the burning conduit. It fanned the flames that reached into the People’s deck and beyond. Service bots were rushed into the emergency and were able to clear the doors and close off the opening, but not before the breach caused a serious loss of pressure within the ObLaDa habitat. The four Das on that level were put in some distress, gasping for air and were rendered helpless until the atmosphere could be replenished. The only good fortune the Das retained that day was that the power lines into the habitats remained largely intact and the module, though isolated and damaged, could continue to operate.
The Gracks lost three more fighters in the explosion, both Soboc and Frapkik were killed, and another was caught in the conduit and badly burned. Yacork himself was literally blown out of the tube, landing on the floor between the conduit and the human habitat, dazed but unhurt. Thus far, the Gracks had blundered about, as they never did on their home turf. Durack had no choice but to withdraw to their hated habitat to regroup and recover. The fire, with little fuel and in an oxygen-rich atmosphere, burned itself out quickly. Exhaust fans, which continuously pulled air from the habitat decks, cleared the smoke and the metal girders began to cool.
As soon as it was feasible, Durack sent Kitrak, a young and unusually small Grack, back into the conduit to secure entry points until they could return in force. Kitrack’s squad crawled into the conduit. The walls were still warm from the fire and the air still held the stench from the fire, but they were able to move cautiously toward the base of the module. The explosion had bucked the openings into the conduit and dim light streamed in from the lower decks. The first opening they came to was wide open. The doors had been blown completely off. The Gracks stepped cautiously onto this dimly lit deck. The areas around the conduit were intact and seemed to be deserted, but they must make sure. It appeared to hold another habitat.
Chapter 15 No Alternative
“Did you feel it? The floor bounced and everything shook. It almost knocked me down. Did you hear the boom? What was it? Do you know? What do the Oldies say?”
“Don’t call them Oldies and yes I heard it, of course, and no, I have no idea what it was, and the ObLaDas have said nothing. Now calm down.”
“But, mother!”
“Clovic, I know no more than you do. At least it has stopped. I hope nothing was damaged, whatever it was. Where were you, anyway? It took you long enough to get here.”
“Heneric and I were practicing splat by the track. All the dogs started barking when it happened; you never heard anything like it. We had to settle them down. Anyway, Tonbert asked us to take the big hounds for a run. Can we?”
“I guess so, if Ton needs you to, but take Gussie in case they get too wild.”
The hounds had once been large fierce dogs, raised to hunt. They could corner wolves and bring down elk and would tear the carcass to pieces in their frenzy if not stopped. Around home, one-on-one, they were now friendly, happy dogs with a tendency to sleep a lot. The tall hounds had developed a reddish coat in recent generations and were fast, high-endurance runners that had been bred and trained on the Outward to racing. It was great sport, and each pampered dog had its reputation and following.
Heneric and Clovic, along with old Gussie, a mixed breed mutt, collected the six hounds and brought them outside the compound. The long service corridor ran the entire length of the habitat and was the longest straight stretch they had. Gussie was a ten-year-old house dog, not one-third the hounds’ size, but she had more status and determination than any of them. She kept her eye on anything that she considered inappropriate behavior, no running off, no fighting, leave the boys alone, don’t tear stuff up. If they misbehaved, she was ready to charge into the fray and set things right. It was her job, and she was not afraid to do it.
“Which end do you want?”
“You take the dogs to the back and I will run up to the portal,” said Heneric. The boys intended to station themselves at each end of the long hall, barely in sight of one another, and send the dogs running to the far end and, with great whooping and hollering, turn the exited animals around and send them back again. The hounds had done this many times and knew the routine. The humans and their dogs were the only species on that deck and had been allowed the run of the floor, though no one had ever been anywhere else.
The dogs were always excited about their run, but this time something was different. They closed up into a pack once they entered the hallway and milled around with some growls and sharp warning barks. Even Gussie was in with them.
“What’s up?” Clovic wondered aloud.
“Don’t much know, seems like they smell something. Hey! Where are they going?” said Heneric.
“Let’s get ’em. Hey Gussie, what the matter with you?”
The hounds, plus Gussie, took off down the hall and disappeared around the far corner.
“They’re going to the shuttle. Doesn’t it look hazy? I think I smell smoke. Lets go get them,” Heneric called as he ran after the beasts.
“I smell Oldies,” Clovic yelled.
Kitrak had his four fighters had spread out to search the hallways surrounding the People’s habitat. It was a larger building than their own, but they recognized some of the same components. The doors into the place seemed to be secure. If it were another habitat, he thought that these aliens, whatever type they were, would be confined within its walls. If they could find no entryways into the habitat or onto the level below, the deck could be closed off and passed by. He would leave a guard, perhaps near the conduit doors, but they would not try to occupy the enclosure. Not after their experience with the Frits.
Kitrak heard the barking dogs before they came around the corner, but not by much. He turned in the direction of the sound as the first dog skidded into the open space between the conduit and the habitat entry doors. They were not far away. The attack was quick and fierce and Kitrak was alone. He could tell in an instant that these were born fighters, pack animals, and he was in danger even with his superior size and strength. He called out as loudly as he could and backed against the wall holding out his clumsy little club. There was no flaw in the attack as the dogs came toward him. He was able to hit one of them before he was bitten. They tried to cripple him, but could not do it and he was able to knock them away, with some hurt, he hoped.
Yubek came around the corner, but she was immediately set upon. Kitrack could tell that they had gotten at her face and that she was in some pain, dropping her cub to push them away. He could see nothing further as two of the dogs came back at him and he desperately slashed to keep them off. It ended soon. The last two Gracks ran into the hallway and caused beasts to back away. Just before he got to the conduit, Kitrack saw two other creatures come around the habitat and call the dogs off.
The hounds were many generations removed from the wilds of northern Europe, but these hunting dogs had retained much of their attacking instinct. The pack quickly formed and, as of old, sought to separate an individual from the herd and attack in a coordinated group. The dogs could smell other aliens on the deck, but saw that they had caught an isolated individual and attacked without pause. Tonsi, the first hound to regain her balance, ran directly at the alien. Roset and Jorie circled to both sides, and Rupe came up from the rear. Roset followed with a mock lunge and, along with Tonsi, drew the Grack’s full attention. The alien was too big for a killing bite, so Roset and Jorie closed on the left hind leg, grabbing skin and sinew with the intent to cripple. They tore with full strength, but the heavy skin of the little Grack was too tough. They did not let go until the Grack had broken Roset’s back and Jorie’s neck with its short metal club.
Yubek had just appeared at the far corner. Gussie, with Ribber and Rouge, ran past the Grack and tried to scare away this new threat. Gussie stood, barking, as a decoy, but the Grack ignored
her, she was too small, and turned to follow the larger dogs. Gussie continued her fight, and when the Grack bent over in a protective crouch, she jumped into its face, or whatever you might call the dark pits that lined the lump on its shoulders. Ribber grabbed its arm, but was shaken off. The Grack kept turning, trying to back against a wall for some protection. Tonsi and Rupe left the wounded alien and ran at the next. They joined the fight without pause ripping the flesh of both legs. The Grack got in one blow; a dull thump as the stubby club hit Rouge, cracked ribs.
The dogs backed away when the last two more Gracks came loping down the corridor. Without their numerical advantage, there was little that they could do against the bigger, stronger beasts. They would have withdrawn to harass and tire the wounded, had they the chance, but Heneric and Clovic ran headlong into the mass of Gracks, dogs, blood, and bodies. They saw the thing hobbling away. They were stunned. What was it? Then they saw the dogs. Two were dead, another injured, and the rest were cowering and growling before the menacing Gracks.
The boy’s first impulse was to turn around and run back through the hall, but they did not. They stayed to retrieve their brave animals. Calling out, they attracted the attention of the Gracks in the process. One of the aliens saw the boys, and turned. It was ten steps away, already injured, so nothing more could be done. Gussie responded first, hearing Clovic, she turned barking, calling the hounds to her, she ran, giving the beast as much leeway as possible, those that could raced to the access door without another look back, relieved to have gotten away, but two lay dead.
Heneric pulled the emergency door open and let the dogs run in. Clovic came up, out of breath, and they pulled the stiff door shut, closed the latch, hoping that it would hold. They tried to calm the dogs, all the time expecting the Gracks to attack the hatchway. Heneric heard a scraping sound and froze with fright, but nothing more happened. Walking now, the boys and dogs went through the hall toward the living quarters. Heneric started shaking as the adrenalin wore down and the shock at what he had seen sunk in.
Gunhild saw them first and knew something was clearly wrong. The dogs were more then winded, heads and tails down, Rouge struggling to walk, and the boys, pale and frightened. They did not answer her calls at first. Only after Clovic saw her did they respond. “Mother,” he ran to her and started sobbing, a boy again, so did Heneric, between gasps they choked out what they had seen, giant aliens, Roset and Jorie dead. The hounds, in their own way, told more of the story. All were bloody, Gussie as well, Ribber and Tonsi had attacked something, their mouths bleeding. Rouge had been hit hard and was injured. Gunhild helped them back to her rooms, gave them some cold water, and tried to calm them down.
Godomir came running through the corridor when he heard of the trouble the boys were in. They were too excited to communicate anything clearly except the presence of giant, hostile aliens outside their habitat; aliens that were strong enough to kill two of their largest hounds. This was sufficient to give him the gist of the conflict. He set out to call for an emergency meeting, everyone to come, immediately. Ragnar ran to the communications center to contact the ObLaDas and find out what was happening. Godomir asked some young girls to run the hallways to hurry people along. Magnaric and Ebert were sent off to collect materials that could be used to make weapons.
By the time the meeting started, Ragnar was already worried. He had tried repeatedly to reach the ObLaDas, but received no response. It was unprecedented. Contact with the Das was always open. It would be a catastrophe if they had already been attacked, or if the ship’s equipment had been damaged. The hallways buzzed with rumors of fighting, monsters, and explosions. Were they in danger? Were the Oldies already dead? Godomir began talking rapidly, his voice high pitched, hardly thinking. “We must prepare to defend ourselves. In the next hours, we will need to find weapons and organize.” Were there any images of what happened? All was confusion when Ragnar called from the back of the room. He had finally received a communication from the ObLaDas. They wanted to address the meeting.
The room quickly settled in hushed expectation. The People had never seen an ObLaDa, or even an image of one, and rarely heard directly from one of them, but they had acquired a quiet faith in their leadership over the years. The room grew silent, anxious to hear the stilted words of the computer translation. It was Captain LemTer himself. In his measured way, LemTer told them of the disastrous events of the day. He described the Gracks, their size, aggressiveness, and their war-prone heritage, and how they had broken out of their habitat and attacked a small, defenseless species. They did not stop there, he explained, but went on to break into the conduit were now able to move between decks and throughout the rest of the module. Somehow they had set off an explosion in the main conduit shaft that killed some of them and drove the rest back into their own quarters, but the explosion has created a grave problem. We have weapons, he claimed, powerful lasers, technology used in vaporizing oncoming micro-meteors, and the fly bots. All of these were being brought to the Filim module to contain the Gracks, but they were lost in the conduit explosion and the module entry port has been badly damaged. Nothing will be unable get through until it is repaired. There are other ObLaDas elsewhere on the ship, but they are not able to get here. As of now there are only ten of us within the Filim module. We ObLaDas, he said, are not fighters. We will be confined and alone within this module, for several days at least, and are almost defenseless. LemTer was not optimistic. If the Gracks were able to take over the module or kill the ObLaDas, it is probable that the Outward Voyager would be damaged beyond repair and the mission ended. The Gracks will have many advantages if a battle was to be fought, but they have only a very small population, LemTer added hopefully. Their community had no more than twenty fighters and several have already been killed or injured. The Gracks must be overcome. It is a matter of survival. That was his message and his plea for help.
Anger coursed through the room. The ObLaDas had handled this very badly. They had been careless to endanger the entire ship and everyone on it. Trapped, they were, by the Oldies’ mistakes, for what choice did they have now? If the ObLaDas were killed, or the control equipment was damaged, or communications ruined, the ship would die and they would be doomed along with it.
Looris stood and walked into the light. He was a small, tough man, plainspoken, mean some thought, but determined. “We know that these Gracks are big, strong, experienced fighters, while we People are brave and clever, but we have no experience or fighting ability. We have our old stories of battles that were fought with swords, spears, battle-axes, and shield walls. Where men stood shoulder to shoulder against their enemies and defeated them in daylong battles. They were men of strength, training, and courage. We have no such training, no skill to use a long sword or body shield. So how are these Gracks to be defeated?” he asked, puling his black robe tight across his chest. “With simple weapons, weapons that require no skill,” he went on, “but weapons wielded with strength, courage and a willingness to die. Spears, axes and superior numbers, isolate individuals, attack en masse. Attack until they are hurt or killed no matter how many of us may be lost, I say. Our smiths are already at work making long, heavy spears with sharp steel points capable of penetrating the thickest skin. We will hold our spears with pride and run at their exposed flesh, pushing our points home with all that our strength will allow. Axes, we will follow on with battle-axes, chopping at legs and faces, arms and heads. Great wounds will open, spilling their awful blood. It will be a mean, dirty fight, many will be injured, some of us will die, but if we keep at them, our numbers will tell and the last of their breed will fall.” Looris’ fierce and impassioned plea was met with the grim quiet that it deserved. Yes, that was it, we had to fall on them and fight to the end. There was no other choice for us.
LemTer had heard Looris’ speech and he expressed his deepest relief and gratitude that the People had the will and courage to fight for the survival of the mission. He had been more fearful than he dared say. He knew bett
er than they how dire the consequences would be for all of them. He was not sure what the surviving ObLaDas would do, but it was possible, even likely, that the Filim module would be sealed off, and its remaining life extinguished. They would not take any chance that would endanger the rest of the ship. The ObLaDas might have a drive to accommodate one another, but it went along with a cold willingness to sacrifice anything for the lasting survival of the species.
Godomir listened to all this talk and was troubled, not about the Peoples’ will to fight, or even the need to fight beside the ObLaDas, if it came to that. He was a practical man, his mind quickly turned to doing, and there was the problem. The decks of the Filim module were isolated with only the shuttles and large conduit passing between them. The Gracks already held the conduit, and it would be difficult to take it away from them. How else could they get into the ObLaDas habitat? Was it even safe to go there? Could the ObLaDas help take the conduit? Could they shut it off? Were the shuttles working?
No! The shuttles and the truck lift were in the arm. Damage to the conduit was extensive, even communications with some of the upper decks had been lost. LemTer broke off for a moment. The People waited, restless, were they already beaten? When his voice returned, he said that there was a way. A maintenance project had opened a small hole between the lower decks. Suspension cables and flanges were being repaired, he was not sure exactly, but the cable was within a protective casing. He would tell them where. If they broke into the casing, they could make their way to the ObLaDas decks. There were lifts between the ObLaDas living quarters and the control deck, if they could get there, but the repair project was the only opening from the People’s deck.
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