With a cry coming from her lips, Connie sprinted forward. Soon the overhead drone started telling her what her heart rate was, and it climbed all the way up to 170. Based on Connie’s age and weight, her target heart rate was 80 percent her maximum heart rate. Her maximum was 165, so Connie felt like she was going to die.
But Smitty was ruthless and belted out one profanity after another till Connie could only hear her heartbeat in her ears. She soon had tunnel vision and could only see straight ahead. With a growing fear, Connie wondered if that was the light at the end that signified her death.
But it wasn’t. It was the mini flashlight Pickle was passing over Connie’s eyes, trying to get a response out of the fainted section commander. Connie had run until she couldn’t any longer. According to the overhead drone, she had run about 3.5 miles and her heart rate was slowing down to 110 beats per minute. Carefully sitting up, she realized she hadn’t died.
“Get your ass back to your quarters and have a shower,” ordered Kriss. “I want you here every day running once in the morning and once at night before supper,” said Kriss. “Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” whispered Connie.
“Now get your sweaty ass out of my gym,” barked Kriss. “By Lord Jesus I’ll have you in shape before we get to A-64. Smitty, it’s your ass on the line if my orders aren’t followed.”
Yelling at Connie, Smitty said, “You heard the captain! Now get your ass out of here and I’ll see you tomorrow morning at 0900 hours.”
Stumbling out of the gym, Connie went to crew quarters and had a shower. The hot steam felt refreshing. Emerging from the shower pod, she toweled herself off and headed to her private room. She was so tired that she got into her bunk and fell asleep in the damp towel.
*
Dozer had carried Hiccup to Libby and Susanna’s room. Jumping up onto the bunk, he dropped the kitten on the blanket beside Libby’s face and pushed the little black bundle up to Libby with his nose. At first the baby didn’t awaken, but Dozer was persistent, and eventually Libby opened her sleep-laden eyes. It took Libby a moment to realize what she was looking at. When she did, a squeal of delight came out of her mouth.
“Momma, look! Dozer brought me a baby.”
Susanna was deep in sleep. Cuddling the kitten against her, Libby began petting Hiccup and soon the kitten was purring. Lying down beside Libby, Dozer formed a protective wall, with the kitten between him and Libby. Soon after, the little family fell asleep.
*
Spice was walking through her garden, as she often did late at night. Enjoying the quiet growth of the plants, Spice relaxed and felt at one with her creations. She didn’t meditate, but her plants brought her peace. Spice couldn’t explain it, but with Earth gone, she still felt the connection here in her garden.
Soon she came to the moon pond. A piled-up space suit was left at the pond’s edge. Peering down through the gel, she saw the crescent moon, but no one was in the pond.
Very strange, thought Spice.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Leea was in a great mood. Images of the breeding cave were still vivid in her mind, and she whistled as she walked. As she headed back to her quarters, she thought there was nothing that could erase this euphoric feeling that she had.
But she was wrong. Upon entering her room, she sensed an acrid ammonia-like smell. She couldn’t pinpoint its origin, so she began to pick up everything around her and put her nose to it like a bloodhound.
She spent a good twenty minutes searching for its location and was about to give up when she flipped her pillow over. Underneath, the pillow was saturated with a yellow liquid that had stained the white pillow. Putting her nose to it, Leea took a whiff.
Grabbing the bag stashed under the bottom bunk, Leea darted out the door. Her face had a grim, determined look. Clenching her teeth, she growled, “I’ll find you, you little cocksucker. Then we’ll see who gets the last laugh.”
Leea searched the ship from one section to another. The longer she looked, the more pissed off she got. Finally, she stepped into Med Bay and surveyed the room. Looking through a clear glass door, Leea could see Connie standing in the room with her back to Leea. The chief science officer was working on something on a stainless steel gurney.
Pushing the door open quietly, Leea entered behind the commander. As Leea inched closer, a deep-throated growl greeted her. Dozer was crouched on the gurney with his ears back and his mouth open, baring his teeth in an evil grin.
Turning, Connie blurted, “What the hell is going on?” She didn’t like being snuck up on, and Dozer’s warning had scared her. Connie was holding Hiccup in a towel and had been feeding her before the sudden intrusion.
“I’ve come to get that motherfucker,” said Leea, pointing at Dozer.
Being pointed at in an aggressive manner didn’t sit well with the cat, and he growled.
Whipping the bag up with one hand, Leea reached into it with the other and grasped the cold metal handle of the object inside. Pulling it out, she brandished the bolt gun at the startled commander.
“Out of my way, Connie. This is between him and me.”
Connie started to speak, but Leea hit her on the side of the head with the butt of the bolt gun. Connie went completely limp and hung there in zero gravity. A large black bruise was beginning to form on her temple.
Flipping the selector to the infinity symbol, Leea pulled the trigger. A spray of bolts traced the movement of Dozer. But he was lightning fast and jumped on Leea’s head, his claws raking her face as he bit deep into her scalp with his canines.
Leea screamed in pain and held the bolt gun above her head, pulling the trigger. The bolts missed again, but sprayed another line of bolts across the wall and shattered the glass door. The glass fragments hung in the door’s threshold.
Dozer was gone.
Yelling with rage, Leea ran through the curtain of glass, the shards spinning around the room. Exiting Med Bay, Leea saw Dozer running down the hall and brought the weapon’s holographic sight up to her open eyes. Leea squeezed the trigger to engage the laser. Breathing in slowly, she brought the laser’s red dot up and held it right between the cat’s exposed shoulder blades. Breathing out, she squeezed the trigger with grim satisfaction.
Nothing happened. The mag was empty.
Dumping the mag and inserting another fully loaded one, Leea brought the bolt gun back up to eye level before realizing Dozer was gone. Racing down the hall, she saw a streak of orange as the tip of the cat’s tail disappeared into the garden. Leea smiled wickedly. She knew the cat was cornered, and savored the thought of the kill.
Inching in, Leea saw a digging trowel stuck down into the soil matrix. Pulling it out, she jammed it into the mechanism overhead that opened and closed the doors. No escaping now.
From above, Dozer watched Leea with his large yellow eyes. He wasn’t fooled; he had played this game many times on Earth with birds. The problem was, Leea was a lot bigger than any bird he had ever killed. But he had a fire burning in his chest that was strong. He wasn’t scared to attack something six times larger than himself. Dozer had the rage of a tiger and wanted to growl, but he knew it would give his position away.
The cat was perched at the top of the vine that Leea had swung from earlier. It was wrapped through a giant eyehook mounted on the ceiling, large enough to hold the vine, and with enough space for Dozer to sit in its opening. The eyehook was shaded by the vine, so Dozer was not visible from the floor.
Leea crept around the garden. She stopped frequently and scanned from right to left. She knew it was only a matter of time before she found her prey.
Suddenly, the com crackled and a shaky voice croaked, “Man down! I repeat, man down!”
Within a few seconds, the ship’s shrieking alarm was triggered. Then Kriss’s voice came on the PA, loud and clear.
“We have a man down! Everyone, se
arch your sections! We have a medical emergency!”
Leea flinched at the sound of the captain’s voice.
Sometimes the best way to stalk your prey is to let it come to you. Leea was getting close to just the right place for Dozer to attack when a noise was heard from the entrance. Bang, bang, bang went a fist on the door. Neither of them budged.
Grunting with frustration, Smitty executed a roundhouse kick to the doors. She was wearing magnetic boots, and even with weightlessness, it was a devastating blow. The doors vibrated loudly, and the garden trowel rattled partially free of the door mechanism. Smitty gave another powerful kick, and this time the shovel broke free.
Smitty carefully walked in. She knew the door had been intentionally jammed, and the call for help on the PA was also a warning of a potential threat. Grabbing the dislodged garden trowel as a primitive weapon, Smitty advanced silently.
Cussing softly, Leea observed the advancing first mate as Smitty walked towards the moon pond.
“That’s far enough!” yelled Leea.
Turning to the voice, Smitty was shocked to see Leea aiming a bolt gun at her head.
“Drop the weapon now,” commanded Smitty.
“Not a chance,” said Leea. “I’m going to kill that cat first.”
“What is wrong with you, Leea?” cried Smitty. “I outrank you and I just ordered you to drop your weapon.”
“Well,” Leea said, “my gun outranks you because you are unarmed.”
“You don’t have the balls,” hissed Smitty.
The metallic safety clicked loudly to the off position. “Try me,” said Leea through clenched teeth.
Smitty slid the digging trowel just behind her leg. Firmly grabbing the end of the handle, Smitty contemplated whether she could flick her wrist powerfully enough to throw it like a knife. She didn’t like her odds.
Talking calmly to buy more time, Smitty said, “You don’t have to do this, Leea. Put the weapon down.”
“So help me God, you so much as flinch and I’ll kill you.”
Leea was uncertain as to what her next move should be. Soon, more crew would show up. Maybe I can make it look like an accident.
Leea started to squeeze the trigger. The laser lit up and painted a perfect red dot between Smitty’s eyes.
Smitty could see its crimson beam, sweat pooling on her forehead. She never thought this was how her life would end.
Leea began to take up the slack in the trigger when suddenly, without warning, an orange flash came streaking down and hit Leea on the side of her face. She squeezed the trigger instinctively, and at exactly the same time, Smitty threw the trowel. The first bolt struck Smitty’s cheek with deadly precision and buried itself into her flesh, exiting out her body. The trowel spun end over end like a throwing knife and hit Leea’s throat with the butt of the handle. The impact caused her to fall forward and cough violently.
Smitty immediately closed the distance and attacked. Dozer still hung on to Leea’s head and was biting deeply into her scalp, but Leea was a tough bitch. She saw the advancing Smitty and head-butted her with enough force to stun Dozer, as he was pinned between both combatants; the combined impact caused him to let go.
Holding her throat with one hand, Leea held her other hand back in a striking position. Blood was streaming down the small, bolt-sized wound on Smitty’s left cheek, but it was flowing severely out the exit wound on the right cheek. The bolt had caused a quarter-size piece of flesh to have been blown away. Smitty also had been hit with another bolt that had struck her scalp, cutting a perfect groove of the bolt’s radius the entire length of her skull.
Leea had inadvertently let go of the weapon when she was struck in the throat. As she looked around wildly for the gun, a loud metallic crack echoed through the garden and a tremendous gas explosion ripped through the air. The bolt gun had spun out of Leea’s hand and hit the inner hull. The impact had caused the weapon to fire, and a bolt had punctured a steam line.
Immediately the garden filled with super-heated water vapor, and the billowing clouds of steam obscured everything. Dozer awoke disoriented. His senses told him up was down and left was right. Closing his eyes, he shook his head and opened them again; this time, the fog in his brain cleared but he still couldn’t see. The garden was a complete whiteout.
Instinctively, everyone was crouched down. Smitty tried to find Leea, but it was pointless. Feeling with her hands, Smitty ran her fingers over the soil matrix, trying to find something to use as a weapon. Inching forward, her foot bumped something. Reaching down, she realized it was a stake. She pulled, but it was solidly anchored down with a mat of pea vines.
Smitty began to break each vine. When they broke, they made a wet, fibrous snapping noise; it seemed loud, but with the steam venting, it wasn’t noticeable. With one last tug, she freed the stake. She could tell by its cool, textured surface that it was made of aluminum.
Making careful movements with probing strokes of the stake, Smitty advanced to where she thought she had last seen Leea. The overhead grow lights gave the steam a yellow halo effect that added to her disorientation.
Leea’s breathing slowly came back to normal. When she swallowed, her throat felt bruised. The exploding steam hid her coughing and allowed her time to recover. Leea tried to spot Smitty, but she was fighting the same issue with the steam; it was like being in a giant blender with loose cotton swirling around.
Dozer was smarter; he was as close to the garden floor as possible, and had even dug into the soil. From this position, he could see below the steam cloud. It was like looking under ice, everything below the surface clear and bright.
At first the cat saw nothing, but then he saw two feet inch into view, then a garden stake wiggle back and forth. Dozer saw two hands and two knees sticking down below the steam cloud, crawling towards Smitty like a clumsy human caterpillar.
Sensing Smitty needed his help, Dozer ran quickly behind Leea. Lowering his head below the steam, he stealthily approached Leea from the rear.
Smitty stopped and held her breath. Did she just hear Leea cough? Smitty panicked. If Leea had the bolt gun, she could spray the room with automatic fire and kill anything in range. Smitty wanted to yell on the com’s PA to deactivate Leea’s RFID chip. But to do so would compromise her position.
Smitty heard a noise and jabbed the aluminum stake like a spear, waist high. The stake missed the crouching form of Leea and instead glided smoothly through the air. It made no noise, but Leea could sense something above her. She froze, but immediately let out a loud scream as Dozer bit through her Achilles tendon above her left ankle.
The stake sliced through the air and made contact with the side of Leea’s face. It sounded like a bullet hitting a large animal. Leea didn’t move, kneeling on the floor from the force of her magnetic boots.
Abruptly, the hiss of the steam stopped, and two overhead cooling fans came on and sucked the steam cloud up into the vents. Captain Kriss and Merc came barreling into the garden. The ruptured steam pipe had sent an emergency signal to Engineering, and Merc had shut down the steam generator. Once the fans were going, they could see, and what they saw angered them.
Smitty looked like someone had tried to decapitate her. The blood from her cheeks had soaked completely through the collar of her space suit and down her chest. Her helmet, split in two, was hanging off the back of the first mate’s head, held on by the partial strand of chin strap.
Rushing towards Smitty, the captain yelled, “Get Medical here immediately!” Grabbing Smitty by both arms, Kriss asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered back. “I did my best.”
“I know you did. Help is on the way,” the captain said softly before turning to Merc. “Cuff that bitch.”
“I think she is dead, Commander,” said Merc.
“I don’t care if she is alive or dead. Cuff that bitch.”
> Chapter Fifty-Three
The electric screwdriver was making a slow gear-reduction noise as it reversed out one recessed screw after another. The Russians had always overbuilt everything they made; what they made wasn’t always beautiful, but it was durable.
The screwdriver’s battery was winding down as it discharged the last of its stored energy. With a twist of her wrist, Sophi removed the last few threads of the remaining screw with the dead tool. Sliding the two freed pieces of plastic apart, she split the telecom helmet. Flipping down some magnifying loupes, she traced the intricate circuitry of the communication helmet. It was to serve another purpose now. No longer needed for KGB contact, she hoped to use it to signal the drone. Not one of the training drones in the gym, but a much larger one she and Merc had been working on. It was a prototype—neither woman had ever built a drone before—but with their combined knowledge, they had come up with a draft.
The drone, hexagonal in shape, was made out of raw aluminum and had a flat, nonreflective surface that made it look sinister. It had six rotors in each of its six corners, and their blades were painted black. The center housed a large lithium super battery that had a shiny, reflective finish that served as a solar panel. This panel would convert 100 percent of the sun’s energy into electricity. The underside of the drone was an array of cameras and sensory equipment to map the new planet.
The captain had mandated that Engineering build a drone to be deployed before they landed on A-64. Its purpose was to do recon for a suitable landing site and, more importantly, to look for alien life. The drone built on Earth had not been loaded prior to launch.
Merc and Sophi were satisfied with their design, but hadn’t been able to test it yet. They still didn’t have a proper way of remotely communicating with it. The telecom helmet was deemed the most logical choice, and it was up to Sophi to make it work.
Connie couldn’t tell yet if the new planet had as dense an atmosphere as Earth’s. If it was denser, there would be more heat generated, and if it was less dense, there would be less heat. Whichever conditions existed had to be anticipated by their design; otherwise, the drone would burn up and be lost. The bottom of the UFO-like protective tub was coated with heat-dissipating tiles sandwiched between layers of heat-resistant super metals. The ship would launch the disc at just the right trajectory to best survive reentry. If the drone made it, a remotely controlled explosive charge would split the protective pod open and release the drone. This was all theory, but Merc and Sophi were determined to master this obstacle.
Mutationem Page 14