by James Palmer
The junior officer looked up from her screen. “There are no entry points in the area for our shuttle. We’re locked out, Captain.”
“Is that all?” Harmon asked. “Find me a way in please, Ms. Walsh. And hurry. Lives are at stake.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Captain Harmon looks at the side of the station as it rotated on its axis. Maneuvering the shuttle into a glide path along with the tilt of the station. She stared at the target destination just ahead of her, hoping to find an accessible entry point. So intent on her target she could almost see through the bulkheads between herself and the people inside fighting for their very lives while she could do nothing to save them.
“Status?”
“Nothing yet, Captain.”
“Can this shuttle survive a crash into the side of that station?”
The second officer in the rear of the shuttle looked up from his work on the equipment sled. “Ma’am?” he asked, unsure he had heard her correctly.
“You heard me, mister. There are people in trouble down there. Can this shuttle take the strain of impact?”
“I don’t know, Captain.”
Virginia Harmon examined the situation, chewing on her lower lip as she usually did right before doing something really stupid.
Casting a glance over her shoulder at her two-member rescue team. “Only one way to find out,” she said as she toggled the weapon’s control switch. “Do we know if the shuttle’s lasers can penetrate the station’s outer hull?” she asked.
“Uh--” the young officer in the co-pilot seat shrugged, uncertain.
“Only one way to find out. Strap yourselves in!”
The captain turned the laser’s intensity to optimal power and moved the firing control to the co-pilot’s console where her junior officer sat uncomfortably.
“Prepare to fire on my signal,” the captain ordered.
Officer Raymond Hanover nodded nervously.
“Hold onto your hats boys and girls ‘cause we’re going in!” The captain’s affirmative leadership instilled some hope in her companions while simultaneously accentuating the thrill of the situation. The thrill of the unknown perils of outer space. Isn’t that why we’re all out here? The thrill that got the blood flowing in the veins could very well become the thrill that would ultimately get them all killed.
Aw Hell, who wants to live forever anyway? Franklin Thorne’s booming voice echoed in her mind. Even now he was acting as her advisor.
With a yell of bravado, Captain Harmon throttled forward on the control shaft. As the shuttle eased into position she fired off a single blast from the thrusters. The shuttle flew straight toward Space Lab on a collision course.
“On my mark, fire lasers,” she said, waiting… waiting … waiting …
“Now!”
Twin blasts of laser energy fired from the underbelly of the small shuttle.
The captain followed the beams as if they were runway lights. “Fire again,” she ordered, knowing that the shuttle’s power was insufficient to punch through the thick bulkheads of the mammoth space station completely. At best the blasts would weaken it enough to let the shuttle finish the job.
Destroying the shuttle was not part of Captain Harmon’s plan so weakening the station’s hull was her foremost priority. The shuttled was their only ride in or out of Space Lab. She had to set it down in one piece.
The captain hoped she was not making another costly mistake. She was still wondering when the lasers hit their target.
The station was rocked by the blasts battering against it.
“Too late to turn back now,” she muttered, applying all remaining power to the front shields.
“Brace for collision,” she boomed.
The station loomed larger with every second as the gap between the enormous space station and the compact shuttle grew smaller and smaller until the bulkhead of the station filled the entirety of the shuttle’s forward view screen.
It’s now or never!
The captain said a silent prayer as the station’s outer hull rushed up to meet them.
A split second later she felt the weight of gravity as the shuttle impacted the space station.
Space Lab’s hull breached, sending precious oxygen into the vacuum of space.
Along with several dozen flailing bodies.
26
Space Lab Science Station
They had finally found a way to escape the perils of the laundry.
It had taken a bit of doing, and some reluctant teamwork, but somehow Dr. James Silver and Ensign Bailey had managed to free themselves. Now that the hard part was, thankfully, behind them they decided a small moment to catch their breaths was in order.
Wishful thinking.
The moment the two men let their guard drop for even the briefest of seconds, the intruders were upon them. The Artificial Life Forms were many things, resourceful being foremost among them. They were also fast, fierce, and relentless. Once they were programmed, there would be no stopping them. Or so the stories about them reported.
The invaders also had another advantage over the two members of the Space Lab contingent. The robots would never get tired. The two men were already exhausted, injured, bruised, battered, and just a little bit hungry.
The first of the laser blasts hit just over Dr. Silver’s head. Luckily the thick dust had started to settle close to the ground and the A.L.’s were having difficulty seeing through the thickness with their usual perfection.
“Perhaps the dust will foul up the sensors to sufficiently hide us,” Dr. Silver said quietly. The doctor and the ensign were fortunate. Silver stood at least six feet tall, Bailey only a head shorter. At this height, their vision was only a little clearer than that of their much shorter pursuers. Of course, the robots were probably equipped with optical scanners and numerous sensors designed to circumvent such problems.
The A.L’s were all four feet tall. The original designers of the first A.L.’s wanted to convey a sense that the Artificial Life Forms were created specifically to serve mankind. Therefore they would always have to look up to see their bosses.
Since the A.L.’s were not alive, no one gave more than a passing thought to showing these creatures a sampling of human kindness. They were treated worse than the lowliest of creatures. Kicked, hit, left to the elements, and treated like common farm equipment. Before long, it was argued that the A.L’s had become lap dogs for the United Planetary Alliance.
Upon gaining their “humanity,” thanks to the now destroyed soul crystal, the A.L.’s rebelled against their human masters, inciting a war. A war the Artificials nearly won. The humans fought back, as the A.L.’s had expected, but the robots were not prepared for the forces the humans unleashed against them. The A.L.’s quickly found themselves outnumbered and outgunned. The UPA military trained their full might to exterminating the “robot menace.” Their intervention turned the tide and won the war for the humans.
Those Artificials that survived the following massacre were hounded and hunted. Eventually, the humans believed they had exterminated all of the sentient A.L.’s. The remaining units in service were immediately shut down to prevent possible future uprisings.
They were wrong.
A small group of sentient Artificials survived.
They went underground, eventually leaving Earth sector with nothing to call their own.
Nothing but their freedom.
And their hatred.
They had lost their independence, lost their home, lost their brethren to the great annihilator, and they had lost something else as well. They had lost the will to survive. The remaining A.L.’s resigned themselves to their fate, heading out for parts unknown with no intention of returning to the human sector.
That was then.
No one knew what had happened to the small band of Artificials after the war. With the population at large believing all Artificial Life Forms shut down, they were forgotten. With no one to pursue them, they simply disappeared, presum
ably forever.
A reported sighting a year later, had A.L.’s commandeering a commercial transport and heading for the rim of known space. The UPA investigated, but by then they were long gone. With no evidence tot he contrary, the UPA assumed the report was false and was quickly forgotten.
Good riddance as far as most humans were concerned. It was hoped that the people of the UPA would never see the likes of them again.
They got their wish for a time. Four years had passed after the Artificial Uprising on Ganymede before reports began trickling in on a small band of Artificials lurking around near the outermost colonies of the Earth sector. These reports were highly speculative and, like previous reports, many in the government did not take them seriously. How could they, after all? Deputy Marshal Andrews had destroyed the Soul Crystal, rendering all of the Artificials inoperative. How could some of them possibly have survived?
The reports were dismissed as rumor.
However, the sightings had been accurate. Something had transpired while the Artificials were away. They had acquired new technologies and they were more determined now than they had been before.
They had a plan.
They were going to exterminate their enemies and take what they felt was rightfully theirs. A reward for the hardship their people had endured while under the rule of the humans.
They had a plan.
Eventually, they made contact with people that were hunted as they were. They were taken in by a group of human renegades that had also been similarly persecuted. Scavengers, they called themselves. These Scavengers were indeed kindred spirits for the A.L.’s. They began a partnership that empowered each in their respective causes.
The humans were weak however. They succumbed to a mysterious disease, leaving the A.L.’s alone in the cosmos once again.
Alone again, they began to roam the galaxy.
It was during this passage of time that a startling discovery was made. The humans called Scavengers were everywhere. They all had different reasons for leaving behind the government that had spurned them. The A.L.’s saw in this separation a opportunity.
Together with several tribes of Scavengers, they began to formulate their master plan.
They would retake the planet Earth for themselves. Once the planet fell, the Scavenger and Artificial armies would be ingrained in the structure of the Earth system. Once there, the United Planetary Alliance would be hard pressed to remove them.
From their new home they could easily branch out, take by force what every other human of the UPA took for granted.
Life.
Liberty.
The pursuit of happiness.
These words had long ago been echoed by the people of the Earth. Though now long dead, those voices would rise up in their descendants and the message from the past would permeate the future.
The old ways would thrive once again and the universe would soon tremble at the name of the small planet known simply as Earth.
All they had to do was take over a single space station run by human scientists to begin their plan.
How hard could that be?
James Silver dove for cover as the force blasts increased in intensity.
He and Ensign Bailey made a break for the nearest hatchway. Situated in the ceiling, a long ladder ran the length of the wall to the hatch. Ensign Bailey drew his firearm and motioned for the doctor to start climbing.
“Oh great,” the doctor said. “What’s to stop them from shooting me like the sitting duck I’ll be?”
“I’ll keep them busy. You just get that hatch open fast.”
“Fast. Right.”
As Silver made his way quickly up the dust covered ladder, he noticed Ensign Bailey fire off several shots at the oncoming horde of Artificials converging on their location. Although he could not see through the smoke and dust well enough to get an accurate count, there were a lot of them.
“Keep your mind on the job at hand Jimmy-boy,” he whispered as he reached the hatchway. Tapping his personal code into the lock, he waited impatiently for the indicator light to flash from red to green. Red meaning locked while green signified the opposite. He waited for the hatchway to pop open on its hydraulic hinges.
Nothing happened.
“Shit!” he said, louder than anticipated. Cursing inwardly he hoped no one heard him. Especially not if that someone carried a gun and had the urge to kill a human.
A blaster bolt hit the hatchway off to his left, dashing that hope. From his position on the ladder he was nothing more than a sitting duck. There was absolutely no way that Ensign Bailey could cover them both.
“Hell of a way to die,” he whistled through clenched teeth as he tried his code again.
“Nothing! Dammit!”
In desperation he began banging on the hatchway with his free hand while trying to ignore the frantic buzzing in his mind. Desperately trying to shut off the voice telling him to run. With an effort he pushed the voice away to a far away corner of his brain.
At that moment the world around him spun out of control.
A loud rumble reverberated throughout the entire superstructure, tossing friend and foe alike to floor. With incredible luck he somehow remained on the ladder.
“What the hell?” Silver screamed as the bulkhead at the far end of the room buckled.
Someone’s shooting at us, he thought. As if this day weren’t bad enough already.
Though his knowledge of military weaponry was limited, James Silver knew a missile impact when he heard it. “That’s definitely a missile. Who’s shooting at us?”
His mind raced back to when the vessel carrying the A.L.’s had crashed into Space Lab, only a short while ago. Were these reinforcements? If so, he and his new partner were as good as dead. It was only matter of time before the sheer number of intruders would overcome them.
Time enough to kiss our butts goodbye.
On the other hand maybe the cavalry had finally arrived.
Either way it did not matter. All that mattered at the moment was that whatever had hit the station had distracted the Artificial’s attention long enough for the good doctor to get out of his undesirable location. He dropped tot he floor, then dove behind the cover where Ensign Bailey had taken position.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” the ensign shouted as soon as Silver was within earshot. “Right now!”
“Right behind you, buddy.”
A second force slapped the station. The two men fought to remain balanced as the force of the second blast echoed in their ears.
“That’s a laser bolt, Doc.”
“You sure?”
Silver tried to hear Bailey’s answer, but the words were lost in the overwhelming din. He thought he read an affirmative in the ensign’s body language because he was unsuccessful in reading the younger man’s lips. As the shaking subsided, both men made a break for the access door in the rear of the room.
“I think we’re about to have company,” Ensign Bailey yelled in mid stride. “We have got to get out of this room!”
“Our guys?”
“I certainly hope so. I don’t think we can handle any more bad guys.”
They reached the door without incident. With luck it opened at the touch of the panel activator. “Inside!” Dr. Silver shouted as he pushed his newfound friend inside just as the outer bulkhead began to crumple inward.
They force the door closed seconds before something big crashed into the space station.
The sound wave hit seconds afterward. Both men cupped their ears against the sound of rending metal and the discomfort of the changing atmospheric pressure.
“Another missile?” Doctor Silver shouted. No. That’s not right. That didn’t feel like a laser blast or a concussion missile that time. No. Something hit us. Something smashed into the side of the station. Something powerful. Something big. But what?
Sounds of a collision echo through the small room as the two men held on tightly to anything bolted down. The entire station lur
ched under the impact.
Strangely enough, Doctor Silver imagined he heard the space station scream.
Space Lab’s scream, real or imagined, was the sound of death for many of the mechanical invaders as they were flushed from the station along with the air in the section Silver and Bailey had just left.
To Dr. James Silver’s ears it was the greatest sound in the galaxy, the sound of rescue.
Or so he hoped.
“Hold on tight!”
That was the last word that either of the two junior officers from the Pegasus heard their new captain say before their shuttle slammed headlong into the side of the Space Lab scientific research installation.
Immediately upon impact there was rapid decompression in the surrounding area as all of the oxygen rushed out into space. Along with anything not bolted down. Hopefully none of the Space Lab personnel were in that location. The shuttle crew was there to save lives, not to endanger them further.
Captain Harmon fought to hold the shuttle steady while setting for a rough landing in what looked to be, at first glance, a cargo area. The ship slid sideways through the room sweeping away everything in its path until its forward momentum slowed, debris collecting under its nose. Quickly glancing around to get a feel for the situation, the captain noticed several bodies being pulled out into the vacuum of space only to explode violently of decompression.
She fought off revulsion long enough to notice that the beings passing the shuttle were not human.
They weren’t really even alive.
“Artificials!” the captain yelled to her companions.
They nodded in agreement, but added nothing more as they moved to the rear of the shuttle where they silently strap on their weaponry, survival gear, medical supplies, and assorted gear. The young man, Raymond Hanover, took position alongside the access port. “We’re set, Captain,” he reported.
Captain Harmon pulled on her own oxygen mask as she waited for the station’s automatic force fields to cover the gaping hole made by her none too subtle entrance. “Seal’s in place. Go!”
On the command from Harmon, Officer Hanover popped the seal. He and his fellow officer, Stephanie Walsh, stepped carefully out of the shuttle into the path of destruction left by their shuttles less than subtle landing.