by C. Gockel
27
The Test
Uncharted Space
Through the hole in the ceiling Alexis saw the night sky. Something was happening out there. She’d heard more ships take off and someone shout. “A ship! But not the Guard or Fleet.”
More pirates then. It frightened Alexis more than it should. She was shackled to a cot on a planet that was on no one’s maps, according to her captors. What difference was one pirate or another? But she’d already seen a difference between her captors. General and Molest were frightening, but Galt was somehow more terrifying than either of them. It could get worse; it could get much worse.
All was silent then, for half an hour, perhaps more. And then footsteps whispered outside her curtains, and her heartbeat picked up. This was a test, she said, arranging herself cross-legged on the mat and raising her chin. Heavier footsteps joined the soft footfalls and sweat prickled the back of her neck, even though it was cool. It wasn’t Molest; he’d be too loud. And it wasn’t General. She could tell by the gait.
She closed her eyes. They can take nothing from you that you don’t give, she reminded herself. Dignity was hers. The Three Books reminded her that even in cases of rape, the only shame belonged to the aggressor. But if it was Galt, she didn’t think it would be rape he would be after. That thought gave her no comfort. She gripped the chain, giving it slack so she could whip it in a loop at anyone who entered.
Will came to the opening between the curtains, and her stomach sank. In his hand he bore another bowl. She heard heavier, adult steps on all sides of the curtains. “Get back, Will,” she said.
“You need to drink the water.” He approached her, but Alexis knocked the bowl out of his hands. He blinked once at it, and then stepped toward her, slowly and calmly, in a way that chilled her blood. With a cry of despair, she kicked the little boy’s feet out from under him, hating herself for it. She heard someone behind her to her left and whipped the chain around, catching a woman with empty eyes in the face. Winding back her arm, she lashed at a man who’d just entered. The chain hit him in the chest, and he reeled back, but then rushed forward and caught the chain before she could strike again. She threw up her arms as he drew nearer, trying to remember her brother’s instructions on how to deliver a punch. But someone grabbed her right arm from behind and another grabbed her left. She tried to drive her heels into their toes, but Will crawled over and threw his arms around her legs. Other children joined him. None of her assailants spoke. The only utterances from a human throat were Alexis’s cries, her voice echoing in the warehouse.
And then Galt entered the curtains, a flask in his hands.
A third adult grabbed her from behind and held her chin up.
Alexis struggled with all her might, feeling her stitches rip open. But she was immobilized. For some reason a forbidden myth she’d read where a God turned his daughter into a tree, trapping her in bark and wood to save her from rape, came to her mind.
Galt grabbed her cheeks and squeezed so hard her lips parted. She scowled at him and tried to meet his eyes to show that she was unafraid—even though she was. He didn’t sneer or show any sign of anger. He just lifted the flask to her lips.
Crouched behind a wall, circuits sparking, 6T9 waited until he heard the door of the warehouse slam. Volka crouched beside him, phaser pistol ready.
A gentle breeze sighed through the abandoned building they sat in. It must have ushered some clouds out of the path of the planet’s moon because a beam of moonlight spilled through a hole in the roof and across the floor. Volka withdrew a foot to keep it from being caught in the natural spotlight.
Taking a deep and useless breath, 6T9 glanced through the empty doorway. Alexis’s prison was across the weedy, cobblestone alley that passed for a street. There were no guards that 6T9 could see, and he didn’t think the door—a simple piece of metal sheeting—was locked. It was lax security, even for pirates. Their disorganization lent more and more credence to this being an inside job—no one this clumsy could attack a ship at lightspeed without help. Then again, a rescue team making it to a planet that wasn’t on any charts and navigating on foot through a carnivorous flower-forest was probably not something they expected. He closed his eyes. He wanted to reach out to Time Gate 1 and see if the star data he’d uploaded had pinpointed their location yet. If that happened, the Luddeccean Guard could complete this mission. He swallowed. If the Merkabah’s repairs were made. If the Luddecceans had another faster-than-light ship at the ready. If the Republic shared the data in a timely fashion. He had to assume that if they weren’t here yet, they couldn’t be here. If the Dark was here, Volka and his mission couldn’t wait. Volka’s side touched his in the dark. He was struck by how small she was. Her small life was on the line for billions. The universe was unfair, but the institutions of man were supposed to be just, and yet they’d failed her. He thought of the prejudice weere faced on Luddeccea. Mankind had failed her multiple times, and yet here she was, fighting for them.
Volka touched his arm. Withdrawing from the doorway, he leaned close to her and whispered, “I heard four adults and at least eight children go inside.”
She nodded. “Same. Should we go in now?”
He stared at the pistol in her hand. There were children in the warehouse. “Let’s wait a few minutes.”
Volka didn’t move, but she whispered, “It won’t get easier in a few minutes.”
The sound of footsteps on the “street” kept him from responding. He hazarded another glance around the doorway and saw a man with a phaser pistol pacing toward the warehouse. Sixty quickly pulled back behind the wall before he had been seen. At least he hoped he hadn’t been seen. He reminded himself the envirosuit had Fleet’s most technologically advanced holo-camouflage—where it wasn’t patched with duct tape, anyway. 6T9 heard footsteps approaching the building. His faux breathing stopped. Had the man heard their whispers?
There was rustling on the other side of the wall directly behind him. Was the man pulling a grenade from under his layers of clothing? 6T9 lifted the stunner up to his ear. He felt Volka tense but laid a hand on her knee. If anyone was going to do something stupidly heroic, it would be him. If he threw himself through the doorway, landed on his side, and fired up, he might be able to stun the other man before he tossed a grenade into the home, phasered Volka, or him.
6T9 leaned forward, preparing to do it…And then he heard something he’d become very familiar with traveling with independent traders. It was the sound of a man relieving himself against a wall. 6T9 relaxed, minutely, and waited. And waited.
6T9 was seriously considering the possibility that the man had an augmented high-capacity bladder when the pirate finally finished up with an audible, “Ah.” There was the familiar rustle of fabric, retreating footsteps, and then a shout. “Galt, the flowers aren’t going to fertilize themselves and the pub house latrines still smell like shit! Get those miners out here!”
“We are coming,” the man who must have been Galt replied.
Footsteps shuffled from the warehouse onto the street. The door slammed. 6T9 counted all the adults and children. His eyes closed briefly in relief. The children and their parents wouldn’t be in the warehouse when he and Volka entered. They wouldn’t be caught in any crossfire. But were there other children inside? Other prisoners? They’d have to save them. His Q-comm sparked with a realization that made his limbs freeze up. Tied to two powerful Luddeccean families, Alexis was more important to the Luddeccean-Republic alliance than any other prisoner here. Saving her might save billions of lives in the future, but to do so, they might have to forfeit the lives of the other prisoners.
His lip turned up in a soundless snarl. Before his Q-comm, he’d never had been able to have that gear-rusting realization.
Oblivious to the data he was processing, Volka rose and crept to the door. At the thought of her proceeding alone, his joints recovered, and he followed. His Q-comm lit, promising him that after they rescued Alexis, a Luddeccean Guard team would
come back for the others.
At the door, they both checked side to side before exiting. There was no one down either side of the street. But his auditory apps put the freighter with the damaged hover engines at only a kilometer away. Crouching low, they crossed to the warehouse. Pressing her back to the warehouse wall, Volka scanned one end of the street and then the other, covering him as he opened the door. They’d planned to do that in case there was computerized security for him to tangle with, but there was only a simple sliding lock of the sort that might be found on a garden shed. 6T9 slipped it loose as quietly as he could and opened the door for Volka. She slipped silently inside, phaser raised, and he followed, gently shutting the door behind them.
He heard someone spit, but, scanning the warehouse, he saw no one. It was empty except for mats on the floor, a few compost toilets, and a curtained area off to the side. Again, he heard someone spit. This time his auditory apps put it as behind the curtains.
Silent as a shadow, Volka stalked toward the cloth partition. The phaser rifle strapped to her back logically should jostle, but her movements were like liquid. Every few steps she stopped and surveyed the room again through her phaser’s sights. The spitting continued.
6T9 followed her, his steps booming in comparison. The spitting stopped. The person behind the curtain shuffled a few steps, and metal clinked lightly against stone. Reaching the curtain, Volka halted, fell to one knee, and aimed at the warehouse door. She gestured for 6T9 to go into the curtained area. If it was Alexis, and she was injured, he was better equipped to help. His eyes fell on the phaser Volka held ready to fire and hoped that a child didn’t walk through the door. He knew she’d never shoot a child on purpose…still. Outside he heard the whine of the freighter’s engines and shouts less than 250 meters away.
Biting back his misgivings, and literally biting the inside of his lip due to an emotional response set a little too sensitive for this sort of thing, he entered the curtained area. Alexis Darmadi sat on a mat on the floor, legs crossed, head high. Her hair was disheveled; her dress was ripped and stained at her breasts. In her hand, she held a loop of metal chain. She glared at him without any sign of fear.
He held up his hands in surrender. Outside, the freighter’s engines were screaming through its landing sequence. Its lights were on, and their dim yellow glow cracked through gaps in the roof and walls, bolstering the moonlight that was faint and indirect in Alexis’s cell. Humans read lips, even the ones never trained to do so. Afraid a whisper would not be heard, and a shout would draw attention, he opened his visor so she could see him more clearly. Her face softened, and the hand with the chain drooped. Carl and Volka had mentioned something about interrupting Captain Darmadi as he studied sign language with his werfle Solomon. Sudden inspiration overtook 6T9 and he whispered and signed in Luddeccean sign language. “Mrs. Darmadi, I’m here to rescue you.”
Her brow constricted.
Outside, there was the sound of landing gear connecting with stone and the freighter’s engines quieted. They were running out of time. He eyed the chain, held up a hand in the universal sign for “just a minute,” and retreated outside the curtain. To Volka, he murmured, “Phaser.” She handed him hers without question or letting her eyes leave the door. He left her reaching for her spare pistol.
He returned to Alexis, kneeled beside her proffered ankle, pantomimed what he was about to do, and gestured for her to put her foot over the edge of the mat. He found himself tensing, half expecting her to protest, but her eyes lit with understanding—the phaser could set the bedding on fire. She set her foot over the stones, and he set the weapon to its highest setting and aimed at the metal links twenty centimeters from her ankle.
A cloud must have passed over the moon, because the warehouse became darker. Outside, the engine’s roar silenced completely and gears ground—the gangplank was lowering. The links were red hot and providing most of the illumination in the warehouse. They became misshapen but did not give.
He heard boot steps outside, and a man shouted, “Galt, is everyone on latrine duty?” 6T9’s auditory processors ran the man’s voice through his databanks. It was the original Android General 1, the man whose name 6T9 had stolen while reprogramming a hold-full of stolen sex ‘bots. “The General” had promised his men would rape Volka, he’d kidnapped a child ‘bot with a Q-comm and was active or at least complicit in the torture of FET12. There was a moment of utter blackness in 6T9’s processors, and his head jerked to the side. 6T9 wanted…things he couldn’t imagine. His system came fully back online in a rush with that acknowledgement. Lips turning up in a growl, he jammed his boot onto the side of the heated links closest to Alexis’s legs. There was the sizzle of plastic from his sole, and he realized her ankle was possibly burned by the transferred heat.
“Well, who is watching the prisoner?” the general asked.
Keeping the phaser aimed at the molten links and his foot on one side of the red-hot metal, 6T9 yanked the other side of the chain. It parted with a clank that echoed in the warehouse. He had nothing to cool it with, nor time. Still gripping the phaser, 6T9 reached over and hauled Alexis into his arms so her feet wouldn’t trip on the chain or be burned by the links. She wasn’t as light as Volka, but he was a machine and the gravity was low; he wasn’t in danger of running out of power anytime soon. He passed through the curtained partitions sideways. Even with his superior night vision, without the moon and stars behind a cloud, Volka was just a shadow. And then the shadow passed. He couldn’t use her phaser for defense and held it toward her, letting it dangle from his hand. Volka took a step toward him. The visors were made to be non-reflective, and the burst of moonlight illuminated her features. In the darkness of the warehouse, it was as bright as a spotlight.
Alexis’s body coiled. “You!” she shouted at Volka, struggling to escape 6T9’s arms.
Shaking her head, Volka went to the door without a backward glance.
“The prisoner!” the general shouted. In the distance, a grenade exploded.
“They’re on the perimeter!” someone else shouted.
“Galt, get to the prisoner!” the general shouted. “Molest, get the ship’s guns on the trees.”
“Let me go!” Alexis demanded, banging her hands against 6T9’s shoulders.
Volka cracked the door open. “It’s clear. Hurry.”
Struggling furiously, Alexis demanded, “Let me down! Let me down!”
Volka looked back over her shoulder. “We don’t have time for this. Stun her, Sixty.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Alexis declared. Outside, the sound of a phaser cannon tearing into the flower forest ripped through the night.
6T9 would dare, but he was unable to reach his stunner with her occupying both arms.
“They’re firing from the trees!” someone shouted, and 6T9 exhaled. Carl Sagan had done it.
The roar of a cannon echoed in the warehouse, and phaser fire briefly silhouetted Volka’s body in the doorway. Pulling back inside, Volka backed toward Sixty, aiming at the exit.
Setting Alexis down, 6T9 retrieved his stunner. And then two things happened at once. Alexis bolted and the door opened from the outside. Lunging for Alexis, 6T9 aimed at the door over Volka’s shoulder.
In the doorway stood a child. Over a hundred years ago, when 6T9 had first escaped the Luddeccean System with Eliza, their ship had picked up children from mining settlements. This child wore the same sort of rough, dull-colored, ill-fitting clothing and was similarly undernourished. The child’s lips moved, and 6T9 read, “Mrs. Darmadi must be returned to Luddeccea. You are from the Republic.”
Two other children appeared beside the first. Another phaser cannon blast roared into the night.
Volka shouted something 6T9 couldn’t hear, and then she shot the children. All of them.
Alexis screamed. “He’s a child! He’s a child!”
6T9’s stunner rose to Volka, but she was already out the door.
6T9’s processors went off-line, and the
n sparked in confusion. Volka was, by human and weere standards, dependably moral. She didn’t shirk from danger. He remembered her cradling BOY4, the Q-comm possessing child ‘bot they’d rescued from the general. She cared for children, even those that weren’t human.
There was a momentary lull from the cannon. Outside a phaser pistol was going off. The fragile corpses of children were still in the entranceway, holding the door open.
“She’s killing children!” Alexis screamed, sitting on the floor, not moving. 6T9’s Q-comm went white hot. No matter what happened, he couldn’t handle Alexis struggling. He stunned her, heaved her over one shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and charged out the door.
Volka was on her knees outside, firing at unarmed men, women, and more children. They wore miner’s clothing and were advancing toward her from all directions. 6T9 raised his stunner toward Volka. He hesitated. She was suited, her visor down, but at such close range one stun could disable the suit, he could open the visor, peel the suit off, stun Volka, carry her and Alexis both—
Turning, she looked at the barrel of the stunner, and her glowing, amber eyes rose to his. “These people are infected by the Dark,” she shouted over the cannon roaring again. “We can’t save them.”
The stunner trembled in his hand. “There has to be a better way.”
Ignoring his stunner, Volka resumed firing. “We have to save Alexis. Billions of lives are at stake.” Tossing her spent pistol aside, she took out the next and resumed her grisly task.
He glanced furtively at the advancing infected humans. They were advancing too quickly. Even with his superior strength he’d be overwhelmed, Volka and Alexis would be infected by the Dark if she stopped firing. His Q-comm understood. But he didn’t understand this Volka, and he didn’t drop the stunner. The Volka he knew didn’t perform such cold calculus. The Volka he knew didn’t pick Luddeccean over Galactican; she had revealed Republic technology to Luddecceans to save all humans.