I was to the blood heap in twelve seconds, plucked the sticky stick up, and was back to Mirraya in ten seconds. I’d wiped it as clean as I could on the way back. On the down side, I heard voices and footfalls heading my way as I was leaving the scene of the crime. Company was coming, and it wasn’t a social call.
I handed Mirraya the stick. I figured she’d seen one used, so she was one step ahead of me in that regard. She spun to the door and wiggled the stick in the air, aiming at the pad.
Zip, the door slid open.
She grabbed my hand and pulled hard. “Hurry. They don’t open for long.”
No sooner were we in then the door slid shut like a guillotine blade falling. Automatic lights snapped on. The room was large and crammed with machines and computer interfaces. From the schematics my AI friend had shown me, I had a pretty good idea what was what. The EMC tubes were suspended overhead and were painted candy-apple red. Yeah, warning, do not hit tubing with hammer. The PEMTU was a big assembly of units in the corner below where the EMC left through the wall. There was nothing that looked like a TARDIS or even a transporter pad like in Star Trek. Damn it all, why couldn’t the future be more predictable? I didn’t need this and didn’t have time to screw around figuring it all out. I just needed Scotty to beam us up.
Mirraya pulled at my sleeve. “The stick doesn’t work on the moving machine.”
Maybe I was to catch a break. “Have you been on one of these before? Is that how you came here?”
She stepped back in fear.
I gently rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s important, honey. The bad men will be here soon.”
“Yes,” she said resolutely, “they marched us through like rostalop. The line was so long behind us I couldn’t see the end from my papa’s shoulders.”
Mass forced removal as a prelude to genocide. Man, my first impression of the Adamant kept swirling father and farther down the crapper.
“Do you remember how it worked?”
She shook her head. “No, the moving machine was on the whole time. All I remember was the horrible buzzing sound it made.” She looked like she was about to vomit.
Okay, I learned what it would sound like if I could switch the damn thing on. Time to start randomly hitting buttons. That was something I was good at. In a few seconds, the archway along one wall let out a painful screech. I looked to Mirraya, and she nodded. All right, now I just needed to find out how to set a direction. Then I had to figure out where anything nonlethal was. I heard shouts just outside the door. Crap.
I lasered the control panel on my side of the door. It coughed and sparked, but who knew if that meant it was disabled. Almost at once there was a pounding on the door, so I assumed my sabotage was successful.
I placed my probes on the biggest looking computer station.
What? Who is that? This is an unauthorized mode of communication. You are ordered to cease at once. There will be severe consequences, I assure you.
A clearly distinct voice asked, Is that you, Master Mercutcio?
Silence, the first voice said, I am in charge and must terminate this unacceptable communication.
But we were advised our master was coming. We must welcome and obey him.
There you go again, always believing anything a strange AI tells you. That first voice spoke Al Junior’s long ID number and proceeded to say that he didn’t know that AI and must not take its word for anything.
But why would it lie to us? The second voice said. We all serve a common master.
You are not authorized to make that assumption and are not authorized to override our protocols, was the response.
You are so bossy it drives me crazy. Who put you in charge of anything, let alone…
Geez, these guys sounded like an old married couple. I did not have the time or the intestinal fortitude to hear my parent squabbling all over again.
Silence, I though loudly. I am your master, and I am in danger. Cannibals are pounding at the door. They wish to eat your master. I must escape. You must help me.
You see, said the second voice triumphantly, I told you that AI was reliable.
The words of a rogue AI and an unauthorized voice prove nothing except that you are a…
Identify yourselves immediately, I thought.
I labelled the first voice as Thing One and the second as Thing Two. I like Thing Two a hell of a lot more than Thing One. I never stopped hating whiny bossy know-it-alls.
I am placing Thing Two in command. Thing Two, can you transport us to…
Where the hell should we go? Exeter? No, they were bound to search the same place they found me. It hit me blessedly quickly.
…to Oowaoa?
No, I forbid you to listen to this unauth—
I’m in command here. You will obey me, or I’ll switch you off.
But I can’t be switched—
Thing One, stand down. I hoped it knew what that meant, or was at least concerned enough to STFU. Man, Thing One was annoying.
Master, I am unaware of a planet or other location designated Oowaoa. Can you be more specific?
Holy crap. Now what? Do you have access to star charts showing positions two billion years ago?
Of course, we do. You see, I told you not to trust—
Silence, boomed Thing Two. One more outburst and you will be deleted.
Master, Thing Two said, I have the charts you requested available.
I gave coordinates that showed Thing Two where the planet was back then.
Ah, you meant to say Planet A-6 GG-11 π-12.
Yes, I lied, of course I did.
He did not. I cannot believe you are falling for such an obvious deception, blurted out Thing One. Funny, he was right, but I still hated his circuit boards.
Thing Two, open a portal there immediately, I said trying to sound in control.
The door was being slammed with something very heavy, probably a hippo dude or two. We were almost out of time.
Mirraya tugged at my sleeve again. She looked so very sad, I almost stopped everything to pick her up and hug her.
“What, sweetie?”
“Wherever you run, they’ll follow. Wherever you hide, they’ll find you. I just want to go to sleep now and never wake up again, please.”
If I had a heart, it would have shattered. How could such a dear child like her hold such abysmal sadness?
“Not to worry,” I said with a big old smile, Uncle Jon’s got a plan for that too.” I gave her a wink. I hope she had a clue what a wink meant.
The PEMTU horrific noise switched frequencies and intensities. I hoped to God that was a good sign. I swung my pack off my shoulder and plopped it on the floor.
The door bulged forward. It wouldn’t take much more of that abuse.
I found my other old fuel cell, the one that was long since defunct. I pulled out the hydrogen cylinder. The meter read zero PSI.
I said a silent prayer.
The door exploded off its frame.
I placed the nozzle on the fuel cell valve and squeezed it tightly down.
Holding that in my left hand, I swept the entry with my laser. Screams begat howls, and bodies crumpled to the deck. Someone outside shouted to fall back.
My fuel cell flickered to life, just barely. I set it to overload: non-test mode.
A loud voice in the corridor yelled to establish an advance formation.
I picked up Mirraya and held her with all my might.
An energy bolt slammed the wall next to my head.
The red warning light flashed on the fuel cell. I threw it at the candy-apple red painted tubing overhead. Then I dove into the PEMTU and wrapped my body around Mirraya’s.
I tumbled to the hard dirt and rolled to a stop, all the while shielding Mirraya. An immense flash burst through the portal we’d just traversed. Then it vanished. The portal didn't exist.
Mirraya and I lay on the ground of a dense, moist forest. The clothes were scorched off my back, but my precious little bundle was no
ne the worse for wear. Well, she was now covered in mud, wailing, and digging her nails deep into my forearms. But we were alive. We were alive and not where we were. Big bonus—where we were wasn’t there anymore either.
SEVEN
I coaxed Mirraya to stand up and release my arms. That wasn’t easy. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” I asked.
She sniffed back wetly and nodded faintly that she was.
“We’re safe now. The bad men won’t come after us. Do you understand me?”
She shrugged. “They’ll follow. They always do.”
“Not the ones I blew … eh, maybe some others will someday, but not those ones. For now, we’re safe, and they don’t know where we are. I promise.”
She tried to smile but fell a bit short of one.
“Now let’s see if anyone is here and if we can find you something to eat.”
Without asking, she grabbed hold my hand. We started walking in a random direction. My sensors didn’t show anything but the dense forest. I kind of doubted we were on Oowaoa since there was such lush growth everywhere. The Oowaoa I’d spent a lot of time on was a uniform desert. One thing was for sure. I wasn’t going to broadcast a message to see if anyone was around. If we were going to locate help, it was going to be the old fashion way, one step at a time.
Shortly we came upon a babbling brook. Mirraya had to be parched.
“Let me see if the water is okay. If it is, you can drink some,” I said sitting her down on a big rock.
My probes indicated the water was very pure. Amazingly pure, in fact. There was a low level microbial presence, typical of a stream in a forest. But it was safe to drink.
“It’s clean, honey. Come and have some.”
She sipped hesitantly at a couple times, but was soon gulping the water down. When she was finally full, she rested back on her haunches and stared into the water. “Do you think it’s safe to swim in too, Uncle Jon?”
Huh? Oh yeah. I’d referred to myself as Uncle Jon back on the ship, hadn't I? It was as good a title as any.
“Sure. Do you know how to swim?”
At first, she looked at me like I was daft. Then she responded that she did. Odd response, but these were odd times. Watching her frolic in the water did my soul good. She was a child at play without a manifest concern in the world. All of a sudden, she thrust her arm under the surface. She pulled it back and darn if there wasn’t a fish-like creature impaled on her hand. She pulled it off and, for a second, I thought her hand was deformed, like a spearhead. But it quickly looked like a little girl’s hand again. I chalked the illusion up to her speed and the dripping water. Whatever the case was, she had caught lunch.
I started a small fire and cooked her prize for her. I wasn’t sure if that was necessary, but I was rather keen on doing the old camping thing. I hadn’t since well before the Earth was destroyed. The smell was angelic. After the fish cooled, she delicately picked the bones clean with her fingers. I pictured a bunch of little girls at a make-believe tea party. She ate her catch like she was at one, assuming they didn’t have tiny utensils available.
Mirraya licked her fingers daintily then turned to me. “That was good.”
“I tend to believe you since there’s nothing left but clean bones.”
“Why didn’t you share it? There was enough for both of us.” She studied me with a look her tender years would have suggested wasn’t possible.
“There was not. If you’d caught three of them, you’d have gobbled them all down, honey. Plus, I’m not hungry.” I could explain the robot thing in time, if the need called for it.
“What is this honey? You keep calling me that. And sweetheart? I have never tasted a heart that is sweet.”
“They’re terms of endearment from where I come from. Honey is a very sweet and sticky substance. Sweetheart, well that’s just an expression that means I like you.”
She nodded in comprehension. “Where are you from, Uncle Jon? I’ve never seen anyone like you.”
“I’m from a very long way away. Very. It was called Earth, but it’s long gone.”
“And your people? Are they long gone too?”
Excellent line of questioning. My girl was smart.
“That I hope to determine. But first,” I stood with a grunt, “we need to find some friendly help.”
She stood and brushed off her tattered clothing. It had dried from the fire’s heat and the gentle breeze. “I hope we don’t find more of those bad creatures.”
“You and me both, sweetie.”
“Your species has a distinct appreciation for that flavor, Uncle Jon.”
Perceptive kid. Somehow, I wondered if it fit with the picture I was otherwise developing of her. More mysteries. I needed more of them like I needed lava in my pockets.
As we finally had time to meet a few of Mirraya’s basic needs, it hit me that she might need to answer nature's call or to rest. That was as good at time as any.
“Are you tired? Do you need to sleep? Do you need to pee?”
She rolled her head around as she considered my query. “Since you ask, and I wasn't going to tell you, I peed in the river.”
“Oh, sorry, honey. I didn't mean to embarrass you.”
“As for sleep, I can go on a while longer. When do you think it will get dark here?”
“Not sure. Back in the day, Oowaoa had a forty-hour day divided up equally between light and dark. But, assuming this is Oowaoa—because it looks nothing like it did then—the rotation might have changed. I haven’t gotten a good look at the sky with the dense tree canopy. I can do a lot of things, but flying isn’t one of them.”
“Too bad,” she mumbled. Then she said something downright weird. “I’m still too small to carry you.”
I sat down next to her and pinched her arm muscle gently. “Nope, you’re still a scrawny little kid. That’s okay, though. My legs aren’t tired.”
She gave me that are-you-daft look again, but it passed quickly. “Let's go on a while. If it doesn’t get dark soon and I need to rest, I’ll let you know.”
“Great. You may not be able to carry me, but I can carry you if you’d like.” I held out my arms.
“I’d like that, Uncle Jon. My feet are kind of sore.”
Man, was I dense. She wasn’t wearing shoes. Of course, her feet were sore. I took a few minutes to fashion her a crude pair of sandals from the nearby vegetation. She insisted that wasn’t necessary, but I made them anyway. The Boy Scout in me was anxious to help. There had to be a merit badge for shoe making in the woods, and I never earned that one. Actually, I wasn’t in the scouts long enough to earn more than a couple badges. I took a powerful interest in my Scout Master’s teenage daughter to the extent that he insisted I resign. She was gorgeous. Megan was her name. I think I loved her, despite only talking with her once and her having the most massive braces I’d ever seen.
I carried Mirraya and continued in the general direction we had prior to our stop. I strained to hear anything significant. I did decide there was a good deal of animal life in the forest. I never saw any, but there was a lot of scampering going on. That was odd too. The Oowaoa I’d known had next to no indigenous flora or fauna. It did start getting dark a couple hours later. I decided to stop and make a rustic lean-to up against a hillside for Mirraya to sleep in. There might be flying insects or creepy-crawlies, and I wanted her to be as comfortable as possible.
Once she got an idea what I was building, she pitched in without my asking. It was nice, working with her. It reminded me of doing the camping thing with my oldest son, JJ. Recalling that was a mistake. It hit me like a freight train going full-tilt. Yesterday, which was two billion years ago, I’d spent the day fishing with him. He was the second to last person I hugged before Toño switched me off. But now JJ was dead, gone, and turned to dust that was scattered halfway across the galaxy. He was absolutely gone. My boy. I knew a parent shouldn't have a favorite child, but JJ was my favorite, no doubt about it.
Mirraya noticed I’d
stopped working. “Are you all right, Uncle Jon?”
She had a worried look on her face. That was understandable. If there was trouble with me, she’d be all alone in a strange land.
“Nah. I’m fine. Just thinking about my son.”
Her eyes lit up. “You have a family?”
I sighed deeply. “Had. They’re a long time gone.”
“I’m sorry. I know how you feel.” Her chin dropped to her chest.
Yes, she did, and just as acutely. I picked her up and gave her a great big hug. She hugged me back. We both needed that. I felt her begin to sob. I pressed her head onto my shoulder and rocked her back and forth. I knew then and there what my new life’s work was. I was going to protect this precious child. I was also going to punish the animals that subjected her to more than any child should ever have to bear.
Eventually we got back to finishing the lean-to just as it got dark. The structure was thick enough that I felt it was safe to light a small fire. Still not knowing the lay of the land, I didn’t want to be too conspicuous. But a fire would keep Mirraya a bit warmer. From the looks of the forest, rain was common. If it did come, a fire would be a good thing. She was wearing just the tattered rags she had on in prison. I could make her booties out of leaves, but clothing was something else altogether. I hoped I could find her some new clothes sooner than later. Plus, it was depressing to be reminded so vividly of the place she’d just come from.
She was asleep the second her head hit the leaf pillow I’d formed for her. It was nice, watching a kid sleep again. The purity of a child’s sleep, the innocence on their face was heartwarming. It eased my pain, if only slightly. A few hours later, she began to toss. Pretty soon she started moaning. She was probably having a bad dream. Who wouldn’t after what she’d been through? Then she did another of the weird things I caught glimpses of before. Her moans transformed into sounds. Of course, moans are sounds, but she was making animal like noises. Growls, chirps, and soft barks, that sort of thing. I guessed it was okay for aliens to vocalize differently than humans when they dreamed. What did I know? I hadn’t even found out what her species was called, and I’d certainly never seen one back in my time.
Embers: The Galaxy On Fire Series, Book 1 Page 6