by Chris Turner
Impossible to get the image of the ghastly lattice out his head. Did it serve a higher function? Like reproduction of the race, producing higher strains, more intelligent breeds of the organism without the reproductive parts? It was almost too fantastic to contemplate.
A faint glow from the leftmost wall caught his eye. A glass patch—an oval portal—revealed a view outside that staggered him. He continued on, transfixed. A dusky brown planet glowered dimly below with orange-hues around the centre. He caught sight of the hard, shiny surface of the edge of a ship of fantastic design. Massive hexagonal pods tiered many times on top of the other, forming a vast complex, radiating outwards from a central hub like the reaching arms of tentacles.
He was on a ship.
Miko shook his head. Impossible. Beacons of light poured from windows farther down the sides. The vessel was huge, like a planet itself.
So, it was not a bunker he was in, or some land base, but a huge ship. An incomprehensible ark that had transported this parasitic race through the galaxy, from world to world. An ark of horrors.
Miko looked out from somewhere on the edge of this gargantuan spacecraft while the brown planet swung below, a hundred thousand miles away.
From a triangular portal far down its side, alien vessels buzzed back and forth like silent ghosts toward the dim planet and from round cargo ports scalloped on the edges of the ark.
Miko pulled himself away from the glass, forcing speculation from his mind. To his left stood a feeding station, the first he had seen since the lattice. The victim, blinking within the canister, was not some primitive beast or some horrid hybrid of one—it was human!
Miko stared with fascination. The scalpel fell loose in his hand. Revulsion seized him. The man was in his prime, well-built, of medium stature with thick brown hair and blue eyes, dressed in pilot’s garb similar to his own. A military man?
Miko tapped on the glass with his scalpel. No reaction.
In a fit of passion, he smashed the glass with the pipe which he kept tucked at his waist. The fluid gushed out from the tank in a steaming putrid stream, taking the occupant with it. The liquid splashed on the floor.
The man fell to his knees, choking out lungfuls of foul liquid. His limbs shook in convulsions. Sobs of despair gurgled from his throat.
Miko tried to help him, but the prisoner brushed him away with a quivering hand.
Miko took a step back. “Who are you?”
“I—I’m Fenli,” the man gasped. His voice was hoarse, affected with a singsong trill, difficult to understand. The glands in his throat were likely swollen, doubtless from exposure to the air after such a long period immersed in the locust brew.
“I’m Miko,” the pilot murmured. “I’m your liberator.”
So strange was it to hear his own voice. Months it had been, years it seemed since he had last spoken to another person. How long had it been since he had been kidnapped by the Zikri? He shook off the memory. “We must go. The locusts have been alerted.”
“Where—what?” The man blinked at Miko, reaching out to grab his arm, as if he were struggling with some old, buried memory. The man stumbled after Miko, fighting to gain use of his stiffened limbs. Whatever the strange liquid did, it did not affect the occupant’s motor skills. It kept him remarkably intact.
Miko guided Fenli along, one hand clutched on his scalpel. How long would the man’s seemingly good condition last before he keeled over and died from some obscure complication?
Fenli seemed to recognize this part of the ship and gave a hoarse grunt. He pointed a shaking finger ahead in the plum dimness. “There lies the depot. I was a cargo-master once. They captured me on a routine run to Belronus. If we make it over there, we may have a chance.”
“A chance at what, escape?” inquired Miko.
“Stand-by ships—they can take us out of here—if we’re lucky. That’s how I got here. Hellfire, man, you look bad. What are those flaps on your neck? They look like gills.”
Miko scratched at the loose flesh on his throat. “I got off on the wrong foot with an alien. For the record, you don’t look too good yourself.”
“After sitting in water for a lifetime, would you?”
“It’s amazing your muscles haven’t atrophied.”
Fenli shrugged. “What’s your story? How did you get here?”
“I was waylaid—by pirates—” Before Miko could elaborate, another portal gaped to their left. Now he could see activity out in space—aggressive activity off to port.
Pods or enemy escape vehicles shaped like aphids, streamed from the perimeters of the ship and others came to intercept from the direction of the planet below.
“The web—”
“It powers the locusts’ light drive,” the man said, “the space jump transporter system.”
The information sent Miko into a tailspin. “The amalgamator—”
“Yes, whatever you want to call it.”
Of course—it made sense. What other sinister fuel could power such freakish technology? And who but the locusts could have engineered the diabolical means to use human and animal life to power a web of hyperjumps?
Miko had no time to ponder the implications. He saw three enormous ships burst in from near space. Monstrous shapes, hulking, black and grey. Their forecastles loomed top-heavy, but they were lean in the stern—battle cruisers of formidable design.
A luminous point of light flared from a weapons-port and slowly they came winking toward the ark.
Miko gazed spellbound as a deafening crash smote his ears and the space station rocked to its core. Metal plating slewed sideways, landing in heaps around them.
A buzzer bleated; a klaxon shrilled. The sound tore at the air. Fenli and Miko were sent sprawling on their faces. Gingerly, Miko rose from his crouch and glanced about, as the plates continued to crumble from the wall. The sound of escaping gases hissed like a thousand snakes. He felt a hollow tug at his ears, as of a massive depressurization.
“A breach,” croaked Fenli, gasping for air.
The frenzied chattering of locusts rose above the screech of tortured metal.
The cargo man scrambled toward the corridor’s exit, nursing his bruises from the fallout.
“You fool!” croaked Miko. “Where are you going?”
The stranger scrambled on.
A beam fell from above. A section of the ceiling collapsed, almost crushing the two of them.
The cargo-master shook his head. He clambered past the twisted wreckage down the corridor.
Miko, on impulse, raced after him. He snatched up a sharp chunk of metal and strapped his long, wicked-looking scalpel at his waist. The cargo-operator seemed to have inside knowledge of the ship. They were dead if they didn’t take action fast. How they could stand on two feet in deep space without floating off in zero gravity was a mystery to him. The insect creatures must have installed gravity stabilizers somewhere. He did notice his body felt lighter here than on Rogos.
He tagged Fenli’s heels as they ran dodging wreckage, threading their way through broken command stations and overturned feeding tanks. The temperature fell; the whoosh of escaping gases blew like gales. In swift succession they crashed headlong into a team of security guards.
Miko staggered back on his heels. He tossed Fenli his pipe. The cargo-master clutched it with gratitude and flailed at the nearest locust whose dripping mandibles snapped at him. Fenli thrust himself flat to the ground before a burst of gunfire flared past him and left a smoking hole in the wall.
Miko picked himself up. They fled down a short corridor into a large depot, chased by guards. Another explosion. The station rocked. Metal beams and plates rained down, sealing the guards off in the hall. Miko shook the dust out of his eyes. Oval windows showed a grim view out in space. Lights and explosions of a vicious space battle were in progress.
“Jakru cruisers!” Fenli hissed. He motioned with grim intensity toward the approaching ships. “We’re not the only ones who hate these damn parasites.
”
The battle cruisers stormed closer, raining fire on any craft within their reach. These fearsome juggernauts were decked out with radar dishes, storm cannon and atomic disrupters.
Chaos reigned. They were in some sort of cargo bay. Many ships lay docked off to the side by the cargo ports. Amongst them, more of the locust-built pods and other alien vessels sat parked, stolen or commandeered.
Fenli and Miko ran toward the ships. Fenli waved at a larger vessel, one with a tapered end, wide middle and painted with locust markings. “There!”
“What do you mean ‘there’?” cried Miko. He hacked at a locust who had edged in from the side and strove to impale him with its fore-pincers.
At the foot of the boarding ramp, a large tank, overturned, had crushed several locusts. The blast had levelled the team transporting it.
A clacking furor issued from behind. Miko whirled, barely evading a blood-smeared pincer lancing out at his throat. He was about to lay into the attacker, when he spied the telltale red band on the skull.
The outcast from back at the laboratory! He stayed his hand. How had it made it this far?
The creature stabbed a claw through a lunging locust opponent’s neck, then looked up. The creature seemed to remember Miko. For a few brief seconds the two stared at each other in recognition.
It was an unspoken alliance.
They ran up the ramp to the ship.
Fenli grabbed Miko’s arm and motioned him back to the overturned tank. “Get the occupant. It’s a woman. Help me.”
“Are you crazy?” blurted Miko.
“She’s important,” the man grunted. “Look at the decals on her dress.”
“So?” Miko blinked.
“She’s Jakru. Worth a fortune.”
“Are you kidding me? You’ve got to be stark raving—”
Fenli grumbled. “No time to free her. Let’s grab the entire tank. You won’t regret it.”
Miko gaped with frustration. “Ransom?” Maybe Fenli wasn’t such an innocent victim after all. “Listen, they kidnapped her to add to the lattice, as sustenance for their feeders. I don’t want to abandon her, but do you want to end up in a bottle like her?”
Another blast rocked the ark from out in space, sending a shock wave reverberating throughout the bay. A battle cruiser went up in flames. A mini nova surfaced on the immediate horizon, almost blinding their eyes. Tinier locust ships weaved in and out of the debris, many going up in flames like fireflies struck by shrapnel or the shock wave or lethal Jakru crossfire.
A landing party of twenty Jakru soldiers stormed the bay and fought hand-to-hand with the locust-aliens. These were human-looking mercenaries, with handsome faces and prideful confidence—efficient, graceful fighters. They wielded stun blasters and wore ornate winged helms and engaged the locusts with unfettered ferocity, tearing off their heads and beating their way closer to the ship where Miko and Fenli were fighting a last stand.
Fires of fierce hatred smouldered in the locusts’ eyes as they stared down their invaders. They clacked in a fury to engage them. More insectoids swarmed in from the side bays.
The outcast stared at the battle with confusion writ on its face. Then it dipped its antennae and bounded up the ramp to the ship.
“Hey, you can’t—” But Miko’s words were lost in the tumult.
He shook his head and helped Fenli drag the tank up the ramp aboard the ship. Laser fire zigzagged off the walls. It flashed perilously close to Miko’s back. One caught the tailfin of a nearby locust vessel and it ignited, engulfed in flames. Miko rasped out a gasp. His breath puffed out white clouds. His lungs stung from the chill blasts of air. The air was thinner here; it was hard to breathe, and now ten degrees cooler.
Locusts swarmed about, trying to contain the breach in the hull while engaging the merciless enemy that poured in from two sides. Some wore masks and others, full pressure suits. Most of the locusts’ attention was diverted to these new foes, but one came skidding up with lumo-javelin aimed. Miko sidestepped the blast. The locust lunged forward. But a Jakru stun-gun hit it broadside and the creature’s head exploded in a puff of gore and its pincer only raked Miko’s arm as he twisted away. He cried out as a thin spurt of his own blood splashed on the floor plates. Crouching, e cursed and ripped his jagged metal piece upward at the enemy’s throat. He took green flesh and a piece of its claw away. Fenli veered in, smashing the pipe down on the thing’s bony skull, splitting it open like a melon.
“Hurry! The air’s thinning,” Miko cried.
A team of the Jakru burst through the locust defences. The locusts’ distraction gave the two an opportunity to live a few more seconds. Orange and blue laser fire arched dizzily around the area like a fireworks display. A blast nicked Fenli’s left foot. He stumbled, groaning in pain, but picked himself up.
They hauled their glass prize into the cargo ship, their chests heaving. The hold was low-ceilinged and cramped, panelled with more of the octagonal plates. The fluids in the tank sloshed to their jerky movements. For a second, Miko saw the grey eyes on the face blink.
He stared. The woman was astoundingly beautiful—at least her face was. The broad, seashell-like horns that curled from the back of her head down to her shoulders was a shock, but the iridescent hair that trailed down her back caused him to look twice.
The ship’s outer hatch was sliding shut. The metal jammed at the last second as a pry bar thrust through the crack. The thunk of weapons pounded against the hatch. Fire raged past the door and noxious smoke began to billow between the crack.
Hot vapours filled Miko’s lungs. He coughed out poisons. Fenli limped back, gasping, his hands on his knees. Miko gaped. The cramped cargo hold composed the far end of the ship’s bay, hexagonal in shape. Alien controls, lights, dials and various gear littered the walls: weapons, harnesses and grapples.
Miko saw the locust outcast making a beeline for the cockpit at the front of the ship. The enemy pilot, another locust, was strapped in his harness before the controls, chittering and gnashing to protect its position. Trying hard not to breathe, Miko turned back with Fenli through the clouds of smoke and hacked at the pincers that tried to clack their way through.
Miko gaped, completely unprepared. A sawlike instrument thrust through the gap. He scrambled aside with a yelp. The jagged edge had come close to cutting into his arm. His scalpel did nothing to hinder the tool’s progress.
The gap ever widened. Miko crowed in frustration. The serrated edge bit deeper into the door and severed metal. If it were to continue, the cargo door would be unsealable, the locusts would storm through and this crate would be their coffin.
A motor whirred and metal ground, mangling the edges.
Miko roared an oath.
The locust saw retracted and slid down coated in a smear of blood. In its place a corkscrew weapon jammed through, some kind of fishhook and gun which sent a blast of heat careening into the bay. The various gear hanging upon the walls erupted in flames. Miko ducked back, his back throbbing from the heat. The stun weapons of the Jakru were turned up to lethal.
Barking angry words at Fenli, Miko flung a fist down at the feeding station and its regal, blue-robed occupant. “Those are Jakru weapons! They would not be destroying this ship, if you hadn’t insisted upon bringing her aboard.”
Fenli seemed beyond pain or caring. He shrugged, staring wildly. Peering out from a liquid matrix for so long had likely resigned him to a life of slavery, a prisoner of parasite aliens. “These ships are L-Doraxu design,” he grunted. “There is a buffer wall that shields these cargo vessels, if the outer hatch fails.”
“Well, you’d better hope—”
The clink of metal alerted them to something flying through the gap. An apple-sized object, a spiked ball of some sort, rolled out of sight.
“That’s a class C gren—” But Fenli never finished.
An explosion ripped through the back hatch just as he dove for cover, sending him and Miko flying, while hot gases singed the hair on th
eir heads.
III
Patches of Miko’s hair came away in charred clumps. His shoulder was bashed and his left side was raw and singed from the heat. The smell of charred locust flesh lingered in his nostrils. He wiped futilely at the blood and ash coating his forearm.
He pulled Fenli away from the chaos. Fire trailed from the walls; wreckage burned everywhere. Figures were moving in the dim, smoke-torn ruin. Red glossy eyes, cold, alien, glinted with inhuman intelligence, and in them, Miko saw a hatred running deep that defied understanding.
A fresh burst of the pincered devils swept through the gap in the outer hatch. Muscles straining, Miko heaved a smoking locust whose arm was half torn off back into the others. He cast a wild eye toward the cockpit. He caught the watery glint of three feeding stations aside racks of equipment. Each was populated with some gruesome, goggle-eyed creature. He also saw space suits, foul weather gear fitted for the locusts, for excursions off world. What more but further proof that the ship was an exploratory vessel with purpose to acquire new hosts. Miko’s loathing for the locusts only spiked to new levels.
He particularly did not like the look of the two amalgamators housed at the far end of the cargo hold. One set of parallel plates flashed amber, now the other pulsed green.
Miko strained in the blood and heat. All these images registered in his mind for a split second. He lifted the butt end of his scalpel to smash it into the eye of an attacking locust. Two more materialized in a kaleidoscopic rain of sparkles from the left rear amalgamator. He was about to club them to oblivion when more jumped out behind him from the gaping outer hatch and a blast of cold air sent him broadside as a partial vacuum swept in from the cargo bay.
He reeled back, the thin air clawing at his lungs. Caught off guard, he ws knocked stumbling by the foremost attacker that charged him with lumo javelin raised. The other bore straight for the Jakru tank. A metal tong was raised in its claw to break the glass and terminate the woman.