A Check for a Billion

by Vasily Mahanenko

  This time nobody bothered us. Inside the security perimeter, we were tiny dust motes against the backdrop of the immense flying fortress. The fighters which might have noticed us were busy being repaired after the battle with the Anorxians. The stream of transports going in and out of the fortress were all on autopilot, so I calmly opened my throttle and headed for the central part of the vessel. We didn’t have the time to mess around with a spire like last time.

  Ten minutes of flight, and my suit’s magnets tightly clamped us to the hull. Eunice cut a small hole in the surface, we crammed one of the armor suits inside and opened its visor.

  “Get to work, boys! Show us what the pirates were so afraid of!”

  Chapter Ten

  Fifteen of the cacodemons had grown to such a size that they now obstructed the fortress’s corridors with their bodies. Lazily opening their jaws to meet the oncoming waves of Zatrathi, they consumed all the defenders and went on growing. Having reached the ceiling, the creatures crawled along the corridors, like bacteria that had encountered a Petri dish. To my disappointment, the consumed Zatrathi did not leave any loot behind. Mercaloun’s spawn devoured everything without leaving any leftovers — even the loot.

  “Brainiac, where should we go next?” I connected the orbship to the fortress’s network and waited for an answer.

  “There is no connection and there is no signal. The vermin have chewed through all the wiring. Captain, do we have to work with these gluttons? There’s no profit from them, only losses. Why do they have to eat everything?”

  It was easy to understand the computer’s complaints. Instead of dealing with the personnel on board, the cacodemons gnawed through the bulwarks, the floor, the ceiling, and even the furniture. Everything their circular jaws could reach. By the time the Zatrathi defenders arrived, Mercaloun’s gluttonous spawn had lost their former agility and could no longer move very effectively. But this in no way prevented them from feasting on the plasma from the defenders’ blasters, as well as the blasters themselves and finally the defenders too.

  “Follow me!” I barked at Eunice, squeezing into one of the unobstructed corridors. There were no Zatrathi here, which, undoubtedly, was a bad sign. In theory, all of the enemy combat units would be fighting the invaders and an empty passage meant that there was either a dead end or some non-essential ship system ahead. Either way, it would surely not be the ship’s bridge.

  Attention! You have lost a party member. 29 Mercaloun spawn remaining.

  A couple minutes later, we received some unpleasant news. Then some more. And still more. The Zatrathi had found a way to deal with our raiding party. The creatures that the pirates and the Anorxians had spent centuries fighting to no avail were defeated within ten minutes by Galactogon’s main foe. The last swollen cacodemon managed to hold out for another three minutes, giving us time to get away. We ran as fast as we could. If Brainiac can’t connect to the network, then the Zatrathi on board had lost contact with this part of the ship too. It stood to reason that they couldn’t track our movements. Rounding a corner, we stumbled onto a dead end. The corridor had ended.

  I kicked in the nearest door and we found ourselves in an industrial facility. Everything here was automated. Dozens of long robotic arms deftly manipulated and maneuvered huge vats and tanks, constantly stirring them, swapping them, and pouring the mysterious contents into smaller containers. A pair of smaller, nimble units picked up the containers and put them on a conveyor belt which whisked the cooked ‘food’ to the upper decks. There was no doubt about it — we had found our way into the ship’s kitchen. Six open ovens brought the temperature here to such heights that my suit activated its integrated AC.

  “Brainiac, translate this inscription,” Eunice asked, indicating a series of odd characters on the side of a container. The computer did as requested, but I didn’t really see the point of knowing that one of the containers contained ‘galinurium’ and the other ‘betar-carnitine partina.’

  “What are they for?” the girl followed up, poking around the container with odd curiosity.

  “One solution provides calories — the other, minerals to grow muscle fibers.”

  “Oh! How fascinating!” Eunice hummed and, grabbing a container of energy drink, carried it to a large cauldron. She dumped the contents inside, raising a large cloud of dust. The automated assembly line did not react to this change in the formula and went on with its manufacturing process. After a few dozen seconds, the first batch of energetically saturated ‘shlocage’ went up the conveyor belt.

  “Why’d you do that?” I asked, since Eunice hadn’t explained anything.

  “Well, you never know…maybe it’ll like poison them or something,” came her reply.

  “Or they’ll go into hyper berserker mode,” I proposed an alternative. “And then they’ll tear us to shreds.”

  “No they won’t,” waved the girl. “The overall volume of food is very small, which means that there are not that many Zatrathi up there. They’ll get their required calories and get done eating faster. Then they’ll rush off to do their duties. The mess will clear, and the next round of diners won’t have arrived yet. That’ll be our chance. Just wait a bit!”

  Saying this, Eunice hopped up on the conveyor and activated her stealth cloak. A minute later she reported:

  “Eh…It didn’t exactly go as I expected…but it’ll do. You can come up now. It’s clear.”

  I tossed the remaining suit full of cacodemons onto the conveyor and joined my wife. The mess hall was like set from a horror movie. Zatrathi warriors crawled over the floor trying to tear apart their own throats. Others were vomiting without interruption, literally turning themselves inside out in the process. After a bit of suffering, they froze and died, freeing the system resources allocated to them.

  “The worst part is we got no XP from that at all.” Eunice was entirely unconcerned by our enemies’ suffering. Pulling out her blaster, she shot a few of the Zatrathi who had not eaten enough of the poisoned food. “Not even from these guys. Come on! There is nothing to do here.”

  I did a double take at my wife. I didn’t know she could be this cold-blooded. And yet, she was right too — it was time to go. We had just over an hour left to complete Mercaloun’s mission. Looking around for anything that could be of help, I noticed an automated food cart. Deftly skirting the corpses along its route, it went on delivering food to the tables. Having made its final delivery, the cart stopped, awaiting the next wave of diners.

  I smashed its CPU unit with my fist and brushed off the leftover food. After making sure that the cart had lost its automated control and could still roll tolerably well, I loaded the armor suit full of cacodemons onto it and the disguised it with some Zatrathi armor that was lying around. Turning on my stealth cloak, I pushed the cart out of the mess, keeping to the right wall as close as possible. Eunice followed behind me. Hardly had we walked a few meters, when we encountered a squad of Zatrathi on their way to the mess hall. There were about a dozen of them, clumped in a dense group, so that it was clear that one of us would have to make way. Still pushing the food cart, I mentally prepared for a fight. The Zatrathi approached. I squinted at the cart a bit doubtfully. I wish I knew how these things ordinarily behaved in this situation. Maybe they were programmed to cling to the wall and stand still whenever it encountered a living creature? For that matter, were they even allowed to leave the mess? Suddenly, I started from Eunice’s hand clapping me on my shoulder. She was ready too. We continued calmly on our way, neither accelerating, nor slowing down. Here came the moment of truth…

  A meter before the collision, the Zatrathi reacted to the oncoming obstacle. Two of the warriors directly in my path deftly stepped aside, letting us pass. They paid no attention to the strange armor suit we were transporting. The Zatrathis’ full attention was focused on the door to the mess hall. The starving soldiers wanted to eat. Minor details like impolite food carts did not concern them.

  Turning the corner, I exhaled loudly.
I had been holding my breath the entire time, terrified that they would hear me breathe. Stopping the cart, I turned to Eunice. I wanted to understand how she passed this test.

  “Strasder woo premintal shlocage cartoo!” The guttural exclamation came like a bolt from the blue. Slowly, trying not to make any sudden movements or disturb the air around me, I turned. Eunice was about to pounce, but I grabbed her hand in time. A Zatrathi warrior had emerged from a nearby door and stopped next to the cart. We blocked his passage, and the Zatrathi stared at this unexpected obstacle with evident displeasure.

  “He said: ‘A pox on these experimental food carts!’” Brainiac translated the Zatrathi’s speech.

  Making sure Eunice wouldn’t move, I let go of her and slowly pushed the cart away from the doorway. The path was now clear, but the warrior was in no hurry to go about his business. All four of his upper limbs began to move, inspecting the junk on top of the cart. He picked up a piece of armor, clicked his mandibles, and carefully placed it on the floor. Then he picked up the next one.

  “He is surprised.” Brainiac could understand the reason for the warrior’s confusion. “As I understand it, this armor belongs to his squad members. This is the commander of the Zatrathi you just poisoned.”

  “Got it!” Eunice had remained patient for as long as she could. Seeing the Zatrathi get closer to our armor suit of monsters, her patience snapped. Pulling out her blaster, she came out of stealth. The Zatrathi’s mug expressed surprise and then puzzlement. He generally seemed like a puzzled type. I couldn’t stop my wife in time. But I did manage to send the Zatrathi back through the doorway with a kick. Eunice’s blaster bolt struck the wall with a shower of sparks.

  “This way!” I cried, rushing after the enemy. “Get the cart in here!”

  My kick had some spite to it — the Zatrathi slammed into the opposite wall and slumped to the floor. This cabin was a small one — three square meters at most — and furnished in a Spartan manner. A vertical contraption that vaguely resembled a bed, a table with a monitor that almost looked fit for a human, a small chair and a rack with a disassembled armor suit. Nothing more. Neither personal belongings, nor plunder fit for a pirate.

  “Let’s finish him off!” Eunice took aim but I stepped between the blaster and the unconscious Zatrathi. “What’re you doing? What’s wrong with you?”

  “Chill! This is a prisoner. We need to talk to him.”

  “We don’t have time for that!” Eunice dug in — but I dug in too.

  “I will deal with him myself. You go and plug Brainiac into the socket. We need him to take over the ship’s network and figure out where we need to go.”

  Eunice put the blaster away and got to work. Naturally, we were equal in our partnership, but as she had already pointed out, this was my mission and therefore I called the shots here.

  While the Zatrathi was out, I disassembled the ‘bed,’ fashioned a few durable bands from the resultant material and tied up the prisoner. Using my manipulators, I lifted him into the air and forced his limbs into different directions. There was an unpleasant crunch, then a long moan, and the warrior regained consciousness.

  “Brainiac — translate: ‘You are my prisoner. If you cooperate, you will remain alive.’”

  My suit’s speaker echoed the message in the guttural Zatrathi tongue. Good thing Brainiac had been to the orbital station. There was no one else in all of Galactogon who knew how to communicate with the Zatrathi.

  “Who are you? What do you want from me?” The prisoner asked without betraying the slightest emotion. Perhaps our sudden appearance had blown his fuse and his brain was no longer capable of processing what he was feeling…

  “Where is the captain of this flying fortress? Can you show us the way?”

  “The captain?” asked the forever-puzzled warrior — puzzling me in turn. I tried to explain.

  “The senior officer. The Uldan with the brainworm.”

  “Brainworm?” Clearly, we were lost in translation. “Only the Queen reigns over us!”

  I had no idea what the proper name of the creature that controlled the Uldan butterfly was. Then it hit me suddenly:

  “There is a room on this ship with a multicolored door. I need to see the one who is inside.”

  “You seek the Regal Relay? The conduit of Her Will?”

  Why look at that! Helpful info about our old friend the brainworm. They are not independent beings, but relays of the queen’s will.

  “Yes! The very one. How can this be arranged?”

  “The Regal Guard won’t permit it. You must have authorization. Neither the junior nor the senior officers have it,” the Zatrathi said quite frankly, forcing me to think. Why is this prisoner so helpful anyway? Why would he want to cooperate?

  “If I let you go, will you attack me?”

  “No. Why should I attack you? Are you an enemy?” For a moment, the Zatrathi regained his emotional faculties and surprise sounded in his voice. Now I really was stumped. I slowly lowered the warrior to the floor. He leaned against the wall, lowered his bound paws and went limp in a rather uncomfortable position. Like a doll. Just as I had set him down. At this point the question that occurred to me was so stupid that I couldn’t resist asking it:

  “Why did the Zatrathi attack Galactogon?”

  “We are fulfilling the purpose for which we were created. We are cleansing the galaxy of the Vraxis.”

  “Ask him where their homeworld is!” Behind my back, Eunice was closely following the interrogation. I had Brainiac translate the question, but the Zatrathi just shook his head.

  “I am a simple warrior. My job is to command my company, doing as my Queen commands. I don’t know where the planet you are talking about is located.”

  I readied my manipulators to restrain the prisoner if he tried anything and deactivated my helmet. The Zatrathi did not even twitch as if he already knew that he was speaking to a human.

  “Brainiac, why is he not aggressive? Why doesn’t he think we’re enemies?”

  This was no trivial question. Back at the orbital station the Zatrathi had fought tooth and nail. Later, on the flying fortress, they did all they could to kill me and the rhino. The ships of Fighting Breed that had come to pick us up on Shurtan had been shot down immediately — but for some reason this one Zatrathi was friendly. He just stood there, blinked his eyes, twiddled his mandibles and answered all my questions. Where’s the catch?

  “We are ready!” Eunice announced happily. “Brainiac has calculated a route to the brainworm — it’s only twelve kilometers. Wrap it up here and let’s go. What’d you take your helmet off for?”

  The helmet! Every time I had encountered the Zatrathi warriors, they had been wearing their helmets. In effect, this was my first chance to see the Uldans’ creation without their customary armor.

  “Cover me. I want to check something,” I told Eunice and took off my armor suit. The prisoner remained still. I even came right up to him and untied his limbs. The Zatrathi was about two heads taller than me, yet even now, having the opportunity to attack, he showed no aggression. He massaged his stiff paws and sat down calmly on the floor, his legs crossed beneath him.

  “Let’s go, Lex!” Eunice reminded me impatiently, but I just raised my hand in a calming gesture. Leaving the warrior alone, I walked over to his armor. The helmet was larger than mine, but quite recognizable. Turning it over in my hands, I couldn’t think of anything better than to put it on.

  “You are great! You are mighty! You are unique! You are all my children! All the others are enemies! The Vraxis are all around us! They must be destroyed! You are great! You are mighty…”

  The red glow inside the helmet filled my head with the weight of lead. My thoughts became confused — disjointed. I looked up and saw a Vraxis swinging its sharp limbs next to me. My hand reached for the blaster — to kill the revolting insectoid. Alas — the monster was faster! The creature dodged and was out of reach! Bells clanged in my head, my legs buckled and the red glow
faded into darkness.

  “And what did you mean by that?” An ache in my shoulder brought me back to my senses. My armor suit’s medunit was diligently healing my debuffs. The Zatrathi helmet was lying nearby, the Vraxis was gone, and I was splayed out on the floor looking up at my wife. Understanding perfectly well that my question might be a stupid one, I still ventured:

  “Mean by what? What happened?”

  “You don’t remember anything?” Eunice frowned and came closer. “Hold still. Let me look at you.”

  She fixed me with her penetrating gaze, searching my eyes for something known only to her. At last, evidently not finding anything, she sighed.

  “Everything seems normal.”

  “I remember a little. As soon as I put the helmet on, it began to brainwash me. ‘The Vraxis are enemies, they must be destroyed, we’re the strongest and the best’ and all that. Then I saw a giant bug and rushed at it — and then darkness.”