‘Help me,’ she said as he fell against the open hatch. She led him inside, to a circle of seats. There were three people in the chairs, sitting upright, their heads held back against the cushioned seats, but Wynn could tell that they were dead. Bara began to release one of the bodies from its harness, lifting it towards the hatch.
‘Put this outside,’ she barked, already working on the next corpse.
‘What happened to them?’ Wynn asked as he dragged the body outside.
‘I don’t know. They’re dead, that’s all,’ Bara said as she deposited another body at Wynn’s feet.
Wynn hauled the carcass outside, dropping it close to the first. He returned to Bara, asking, ‘Why are we doing this?’
‘Computer logic,’ she explained as the last body fell from its chair. ‘The spiders are looking for organic matter, so we give them some. They’ll deal with this lot first, then come for us. It buys us time.’
Together they lifted the third figure out of the lifeboat and dropped it with the others. Wynn looked down on them, feeling remorse at these three lives, discarded like rubbish.
The sinister shape of a spider appeared on the crest of a nearby hill, and Wynn felt his body tense.
‘C’mon, we don’t have much time.’ Bara said.
They retreated into the lifeboat and pulled the hatch shut.
Wynn stared at the confined circular space. ‘We’re going to just wait in here?’
Bara shook her head. ‘It looks to be in decent condition . . .’
‘You think it can fly?’
‘Maybe.’
‘But those people, they died in here.’
Angrily, Bara replied, ‘I know that! You’ve a better idea?’
Wynn laughed. ‘No.’
Bara turned away from him to peer out of the tiny window built into the hatch. ‘They’re coming,’ she noted.
Wynn saw it too. The spiders were converging on the lifeboat. Each one collected a body and dragged it across the field of debris.
‘Okay,’ Bara whispered, ‘we don’t have long till they come back.’
She turned to study the control panel set into a column at the center of the pod. ‘Main power is still online . . .’ A low hum vibrated through the space as subdued lighting illumined the seats. ‘Fuel seems fine . . . Ah.’ Bara’s face furrowed.
‘What is it?’ Wynn asked, feeling helpless.
‘No oxygen left. They had to purge due to a toxin leak. By the time the air was clean there was nothing left to breathe. That’s why our friends died.’ She looked up at Wynn, her eyes full of despair. ‘We’re not going anywhere.’
‘There’s air in here now,’ Wynn replied. ‘We can breathe this for a while.’
‘A while?’
‘Long enough to get out.’
‘It beats staying here,’ Bara mused as she scrolled through the control panel screen.
‘Can you get us airborne?’
‘That’s the easy part. If we want to survive we’ll have to get out of this hanger, and we can’t ram our way out of that door.’
‘We need to wait for another junk drop?’ Wynn asked.
Bara nodded grimly. ‘When the door opens we launch . . .’
‘And fly through the junk.’ Wynn added.
‘Making sure we’re outside before the hatch closes again.’
Wynn laughed darkly. ‘You make it sound easy.’
‘It might just be possible, if not for those spiders out there.’
Wynn checked the small window: he saw movement from over the rise of junk. ‘They’re coming back.’
Bara nodded silently, checking the screen. ‘I’ll shut everything off. These walls should hide our bio-signals, unless they look closely.’
The power ebbed out of the lifeboat. The lights dimmed and the subtle moan of activity faded away to nothing.
‘Keep watch,’ Bara whispered. ‘Let me know when that door opens.’
Wynn nodded, then turned back to the window, almost jumping at the sight of the dark mass of a spider directly outside the hatch. He froze, not daring to move.
The spider scanned the lifeboat, its sensors checking over the exterior. One of its lights flicked over the glass, catching Wynn’s eye. Every nerve in his body cried out for him to retreat, to drop down and hide behind the metal door. But he did not dare to move. The light played over the glass, illuminating Wynn’s face in its red glow. One of the spider’s tendril arms reached out and scratched at the door, tapping, tapping. More spiders surveyed the scene, moving closer. One of them climbed onto the top of the lifeboat, its arms clanging against the hull. Wynn and Bara stared upwards, listening to the slow, deliberate banging from outside. Then the spider at the hatch began to claw at the door’s release mechanism. Wynn watched as it gripped the handle and began to turn it. Slowly, it rotated, letting off a menacing whine. Wynn gripped the door from the inside, hoping he might be able to hold it, but it was no good. Air hissed around the seal as the door began to open. It turned slightly, revealing a narrow gap at the edge, and a metallic pincer tested the opening, inching its way inside. Wynn watched in horror as the mechanical fingers gripped the door, ready to pull it open.
Somewhere, a feeble alarm began to tone. Vibration resonated throughout the hanger and the spider’s claw stopped. It let off a series of chirps and the other spiders responded, withdrawing from the lifeboat.
Wynn peered through the thin gap in the hatch and realized why they had retreated. ‘The door’s opening,’ he shouted.
Bara worked at the control panel, bringing the craft to life. ‘Get that hatch shut!’ she barked.
Wynn pulled at the mechanism, satisfied when a red light pinged to confirm it was sealed. In the same instant, the lifeboat tilted as it began to rise from the wreckage.
Wynn rushed to one of the seats and strapped himself in. Bara did likewise, pulling the control panel towards her chair. The screen lit up with a representation of the hanger bay and the opening door somewhere above them. A dark mass was already coming through the hatch.
‘More junk,’ Bara noted.
‘Warning,’ a synthetic voice intoned. ‘Collision alarm. Stand by for avoidance routine.’
‘No!’ Bara shouted. ‘It’ll hide us away from the junk. We need to go through it.’
‘I am unable to allow that,’ the voice commanded. ‘The lifeboat would sustain too much damage. Your chances of survival are higher if I move us to a safe–’
‘Computer,’ Wynn shouted, ‘override computer safety measures and give me manual flight control at this station.’
‘Authorization?’
Wynn spoke without thinking, the information coming from somewhere deep within him. ‘Command Obsidian, red nine T-H-Y axis, four, one, three, K.’
‘Authorization confirmed.’
A screen rotated towards him, control and navigation icons already forming. He felt a trembling excitement as he began to punch a series of commands into the computer. He knew how to fly this thing! It was as instinctive as breathing.
He settled into the chair, letting his fingers trace his impulses into the computer’s system.
The lifeboat responded, lifting, turning towards the vast door.
‘Viewer,’ Wynn demanded.
The ceiling above the chairs rippled with light as an image began to form. There was the distant door, half-open now, debris already plummeting through the gap. His chair tilted back so that he could see it, and, as his fingers danced over the control screen, Wynn felt that he and the lifeboat were one.
Bara watched as he navigated his way closer and closer to the vast opening. Beyond was the inky blackness of space, just visible in between the tumbling debris coming towards them.
‘Collision alarm,’ the computer droned.
‘Acknowledged,’ Wynn replied, already shifting the lifeboat with ease. On the screen, a twisted bulkhead fell past them, making Bara jump in her seat.
Wynn weaved through the field, avoiding the largest pieces of
metal. From time to time smaller fragments pinged off the hull, tiny musical notes that rattled and chimed through the interior.
Bara stared at the approaching mass of plastic and metal. ‘There’s too much. We can’t–’
‘We can!’ Wynn insisted, his eyes never moving from the view. His fingers glided over the control panel, maneuvering, guiding, shifting their flight. Ahead, the dark mass seemed to break apart, revealing a star-encrusted portion of space. Wynn responded and pushed the little craft towards it. At the same moment, a giant fragment of burned hull smashed into another piece of debris, and the gap began to close.
‘We’ll never make it,’ Bara warned.
Wynn didn’t reply, his entire focus was on the screen. He saw the multitude of spinning fragments and calculated the best course to see them safely out of the hanger. The lifeboat ducked, rotated, shifting like it was alive under Wynn’s command. He could see space clearly now, and he allowed himself a brief smile of satisfaction. They were going to make it.
‘Collision alarm.’
It came from the edge of his vision, a giant slab of scorched alloy and girders, whirling towards them. The vision of stars disappeared, and only metal remained.
Wynn reacted, but it was too late. There was a sickening sound as the debris smashed into the lifeboat. For a moment the lights flickered out, plunging them into darkness. At least the hull hadn’t ruptured, he thought as he fought to regain control of the vessel. Then he felt a breeze passing over his face. He twisted to see a tiny hole in the skin of the lifeboat, the air rushing out through it.
Bara saw it too and released her harness. She fell from the chair, plummeted towards the ceiling, then tumbled across the hull towards the hole as the lifeboat span. She pulled out a small canister from her overall pocket and squirted it at the finger-sized hole. A plume of grey foam filled the void, expanding and hardening rapidly, until the damage was sealed.
‘That’ll hold for now,’ Bara gasped. ‘Can you get us out of here?’
Wynn checked the flickering viewer above him. They had stopped spinning and were moving towards the door again. The debris fell about them, but there was less of it now.
‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘I think I can.’
He adjusted his flightpath towards the exit and engaged the thrusters, watching as their velocity increased, satisfied that they had enough momentum to carry them out now.
That’s when the door began to close.
THE INFINITE
‘We can’t make it!’ Bara cried. ‘Pull up!’
‘It’s too late,’ Wynn said through gritted teeth. He ran through every on-board system, diverting all the energy he could spare into the thrusters.
‘You’ll get us killed!’ Bara cried desperately.
The door inched closer. The gap became smaller and smaller, just a line of blackness blotted with the last fragments of debris.
It was hard to judge distances from the viewer, the door was so vast, so Wynn relied on the numbers counting down on the control panel. But something else guided him; the same intuitive knowledge he’d tapped into when he’d taken control of the lifeboat, an innate confidence in his own abilities. He could make this, he knew it.
The gap was almost gone now, a black edge between life and death. Wynn made his final adjustments and let go of the control panel. There was nothing more he could do. He let his head rest on the padded seat as they flew faster and faster towards the closing door. Wynn squeezed his eyes shut, tensing as they came upon the exit.
The lifeboat rattled, vibrations rocking it as they thundered through the gap. Behind them the door rumbled shut, expelling the last of the hanger bay’s atmosphere into space. The lifeboat tumbled on the currents, spinning away from the Bone-Grubbers’ ship.
Wynn opened his eyes, realized he was holding his breath, and exhaled.
Beside him Bara laughed, trembling. ‘How the hell did you do that?’
‘I don’t know,’ Wynn confessed. ‘I just did it.’
They both smiled with relief, taking a moment to compose themselves.
‘Rear view,’ Wynn ordered. The screen flickered and he saw the vast ship they were retreating from. It was a huge elongated mass, an ugly jumble of connecting hulls and modules. It looked ancient, as if it had been added to and built upon for decades, possibly longer. In front of the giant door was a funnel of wire netting that extended out into space. About it was the vast debris field of the Ark Royal Obsidian, its remnants caught on the net and corralled towards the hanger bay.
Bara checked her screen. ‘Fuel seems okay, we should be able to find somewhere safe to go to.
‘If we can get oxygen . . .’ Wynn added.
‘Computer, how long will the air supply last?’ Bara asked.
‘Approximately twenty-three minutes of usable air supply remaining,’ the computer replied flatly.
Wynn turned to face her. ‘Any friendly ports in range?’
Bara smiled. ‘Computer, scan for a ship with this transcode frequency.’ She keyed in a long number sequence into the control panel.
‘Scanning,’ the computer diligently replied.
‘What are you hoping to find?’ Wynn asked.
‘When they gave the order to evacuate I couldn’t get to the main hanger, so I took a lifeboat instead. Lexica was in the hanger and–’
‘Lexica?’
Bara looked up, pride in her eyes. ‘He’s my ship. When I couldn’t get to him I signaled for him to launch and get to safety. If he’s okay I should be able to get him to come and pick us up . . . if he’s not still angry with me.’
Wynn stared at her, quizzically. ‘Your ship . . . is angry with you?’
‘Long story.’
‘Transcode frequency found,’ the computer said.
Bara whooped in delight, slapping her chair. ‘Okay, patch me through on an encoded channel.’
‘The vessel requires an authentication code to initiate communication.’
‘Pickles,’ Bara replied with a grin.
‘Contact made.’
A faint com channel opened, filled with distortion. ‘I’m not talking to you,’ a smooth male voice said.
‘Yes, you are,’ Bara laughed.
There was a pause, then, ‘What do you want?’
‘I need a pickup, and quick. We’re running out of air.’
‘We?’ There was a hint of accusation in the voice.
‘Who is this?’ Wynn whispered to Bara.
‘Lexica. My ship. He’s an acquired taste. A bit highly strung.’
‘I can hear you,’ Lexica moaned.
‘Sorry, Lex,’ Bara soothed. ‘That’s Wynn, he’s okay, you’ll like him. Can you pick us up? Please.’
‘I’m damaged, remember?’
Bara winced. ‘I busted his starboard flank in my last fuel scoop. That’s why he’s angry with me,’ she explained to Wynn.
‘And you managed to tear off my docking array,’ Lexica said. ‘I am unable to operate the docking clamps from here.’
‘Then we’ll have to open it from the outside,’ Bara said optimistically. Her entire tone had lifted since she had contacted her ship. She turned to Wynn. ‘We do have spacesuits in here, right?’
He undid his harness and let himself drift into the center of the lifeboat. He searched the space and pulled out a space suit from an emergency locker. He found a second suit and threw it to Bara. She climbed out of her seat and began to pull on the survival suit. ‘Computer, plot a rendezvous course with Lexica and take us to him.’
‘I have control,’ the computer announced as the lifeboat began a new set of maneuvers.
Bara closed her suit around her neck. ‘If we survive this, what will you do?’
‘Do?’ Wynn asked as he pulled his suit over his head and joined the seal at his waist.
‘I’m going home, ‘Bara explained. ‘I wasn’t from the Obsidian, I’m just a hired hand, I’ve worked there for just over a year. My home is . . . it’s a long way from here. I think it�
��s time I went back for a while.’
‘I . . . I don’t know where I’m from,’ Wynn said. ‘I need to find out who I am. And I want to find out who destroyed the Obsidian.’
‘Revenge?’
Wynn tensed. ‘They should pay for what they did.’
‘That’s a big fight you’re stepping into.’
‘Maybe . . . I don’t know . . . I don’t have any answers. I wish I did.’
‘Well, you’re a top-notch pilot,’ Bara noted. ‘You’re a high-ranking Kenric who knows a few command override codes. If you’re looking for answers I’d start on a Kenric arkship; that’s where you belong. And that’s probably the best place to start if you really want to fight back.’
‘Then maybe that’s where I’ll go,’ Wynn said with a determined smile. He paused, thinking, then added, ‘Tell me about the Obsidian.’
Bara sighed nostalgically. ‘A beautiful ship. You know it was the family’s capital ship, don’t you?’
‘The family?’
‘The Kenric family. They’re the last royal House. You must remember the Prince?’
Wynn tried to hide his frustration. ‘I remember nothing, really.’
Bara studied him. ‘Okay, right . . . well, the House of Kenric, it’s the last royal household, and it’s ruled by Prince Thyred . . .’ She thought for a moment. ‘If he’s still alive, that is. He was on board the Obsidian.’
‘Did you know him?’
‘Me?’ Bara half-laughed. ‘No, I didn’t know him. We moved in very different circles. I remember once, he came down to the engine deck for a tour. We spent days cleaning it all, making everything perfect, and the old guy only spent fifteen minutes there. Hardly looked around at all. I don’t think he was interested.’
‘Who do you think attacked the Obsidian?’
Bara looked down. ‘I don’t know. It all happened so quickly.’
‘But what about the Gilgore grid? Shouldn’t that have . . .’ Wynn’s voice tailed off. ‘I don’t know what that is, it just came to me.’
Arkship Obsidian Page 3