She felt particularly awkward. Her inefficient progress threatened to exhaust her as the minutes sped by and their chances of success decreased. Finally, to her relief, she caught up to the Dva, who had stopped in front of a rock wall.
Facing them stood the widest access to the portal network that the pilot had seen so far. She estimated it to be fifteen feet high by twelve feet wide.
With Rupo in the lead, the Dva hastened through. Despite their frail appearance, they were able to survive under water much longer than humans and so could wait safely on the other side.
Standing before the veil of darkness that represented the portal, Mallory took a few deep breaths. Wrapped around her left arm, Squish stiffened in apprehension as she stepped forward.
A vertiginous fraction of a second later, the pilot was gripped by freezing cold. Suddenly blind, she cursed as she realized she would also have to cope with total darkness.
She felt the jufinol’s reassuring thoughts slip into hers, preventing her from panicking. Barely discernible at first, a little yellow light appeared, then two, then three…
Squish made it possible for her to perceive the Dva, or rather the glow of their minds. The aliens could see in complete darkness since their eyeballs captured all spectra, so all she had to do was to follow them.
Knowing where she was going didn’t mean she wouldn’t drown. Hoping that the trip wouldn’t be too long, she struggled to follow the aliens.
This is a job for Laorcq! she thought, letting out some of the air in her lungs.
Thirty seconds later, she could no longer prevent her body from taking a deadly breath.
The yellow lights before her were beginning to waver, when her hands touched the smooth, hard surface of a sloping floor. She skirted along it until she emerged from the icy wave. With her mouth wide open, she took several loud gulps of air before looking around.
She first thought they had come out into a half-submerged tunnel.
The synergetic tube! she realized, seeing the many electrodes that lined the walls of the “tunnel.”
The vessel was partially buried in ice, and the red water had seeped into the main thruster. A little further on, she saw that it was completely clogged with frozen liquid, like a large ruby stuck in the neck of a bottle. The Saharjs’ frantic attempts to break free of the asteroid and the frozen sgarfo must have created this pocket in the middle of the tube.
She saw that the Dva had already set to work. The flagship was permanently connected to the data network. By working from the inside, they could allow Jazz to access it too, so he could analyze its architecture and find a way to sabotage it.
Emerging directly into the propulsion system was an unexpected bonus. While she was being chased through the shipyard on Solicor, Mallory had discovered that going through the synergetic group was an excellent way to attack a ship.
As long as no one activated the forward tube. Normally, it was only used after the ship had been launched. If the Saharj decided to try it anyway in attempt to break free, Mallory and the Dva would be vaporized on the spot.
Trapped in an impenetrable mass of red ice, Torg wished he knew what was happening. Carried far from the tower after his fight with the artificial soldier, he was struggling against the current when he had been seized by a feeling of intense cold. The liquid had finally completely frozen.
After trying unsuccessfully to contact Mallory, he attempted to communicate with the Sirgan.
“Jazz! Answer, you brain-in-a-can!” he said in frustration through the navcom implanted at the base of his cortex.
His claustrophobia manifested quickly. While the cybrid wouldn’t suffocate, the confinement might drive him insane. He clung to the one thought that allowed him to overcome his irrational fear: Mallory needed him.
Concentrating on this idea, he tried to relax his body and noticed that the ice around him wasn’t as solid as he had thought.
The sgarfo didn’t behave at all according to Torg’s expectations. When he used his limbs’ full strength, he encountered complete resistance. On the other hand, very small movements allowed him some latitude. Relieved, and with a degree of patience that surprised him, he continued to move slowly, clearing more and more space. He wasn’t really concerned with whether he would end up inside the asteroid or in the void: the main thing was to free himself.
He found a sequence of efficient gestures, which he repeated mechanically. A bubble formed within the frozen material, rewarding his efforts. From there, he began to dig in the direction that seemed best to him, guided by instinct.
He swam and dug again and again, with the feeling of being trapped in one of those nightmares where you keep walking without making any progress. When he finally reached something other than the icy mush, he didn’t notice immediately. His steel claws scraped repeatedly against a metal surface, generating a hollow sound, before he realized he was touching the hull of a ship.
Still guided by an indefinable sensation, he turned right and skirted along it. He emerged from the thick red puree, crossed through an empty space, and found himself back in the liquid. In the deep darkness, Torg’s eyes, far better than a human’s, managed to make out a few shapes. He recognized the aft of a vessel and the gaping mouth of a synergetic tube. He dove in.
As he progressed, he saw a faint glow ahead. Without thinking, he swam in that direction.
Now clearly visible through the sgarfo, the low light appeared to have a scarlet halo.
Torg accelerated and followed the slope created by the submerged propeller. He emerged into the open and stood, already knowing who he would find.
Alerted by Squish of her bodyguard’s arrival, Mallory stepped away from the surface of the red liquid. Behind her, the Dva were busy working on a set of components connected to the synergetic tube’s curved wall.
“Torg! I thought I lost you! If we hadn’t been able to redirect the flow here…” She left the sentence unfinished and asked, “What happened to you?”
He shrugged. “A Saharj made me let go. I killed it, but I couldn’t make it back to the tower before the current carried me away.”
He approached her and examined her carefully. Soaked from head to toe, she was shivering with cold, and her lips had turned blue. Around her arm, the small jufinol didn’t look much better—its fine multicolored coat dripped with sgarfo.
Worried, Torg exclaimed, “You’re suffering from hypothermia!”
He immediately pressed her against him. Mallory discovered that the cybrid’s fur was warm despite his time in the icy liquid. Under the shock of thick black and red fur, she felt Torg’s body reheating her slowly. Squish purred with comfort.
Still holding her against him, Torg picked up Squish and perched him on his shoulders. He picked her up and went to sit down in an almost dry place, where he snuggled her against him. Mallory’s chills subsided and were replaced by a pleasant torpor.
Too soon for Mallory’s taste, Rupo stepped away from his comrades and approached them.
“We’re ready. Your Natural Intelligence has access to the vessel and to the engine’s controls.”
She withdrew reluctantly from Torg’s warmth. “If Jazz is connected to the ship, we can call him, right?”
Rupo agreed. She grabbed hold of her collar and opened a line to the Sirgan to get a report. The connection was established.
Jazz growled like a senile old man. “Shit, shit, and more shit! This fucking Saharj machine is nothing like the others. We can’t destroy it like the ship in orbit around Solicor.”
Mallory felt her blood freeze: sabotaging the tube was their only remaining option. If they couldn’t disable the flagship, the Vohrn would never be able to defeat the Saharj. And who knew what kind of havoc Vassili’s weapon could generate?
The pilot ordered Jazz to try again. “Rack your brain. There has to be a way!”
He fell silent for five seconds: enough time to analyze the Saharj archives several times over. “Well. There is one option, but it’s not particula
rly subtle: it’s more like something a drunken Orcant would do.”
Mallory frowned. “This isn’t a good time for jokes, Jazz.”
“Vassili’s infamous weapon is a kind of missile,” he continued. “There must be a way to make it explode without firing it—that would destroy the ship. The problem is that the Saharj botched the installation: instead of being linked to the ship’s network, they just created a series of connections to enable manual launch from the bridge.”
Mallory nearly lost her composure. Their plan consisted of storming a ship full of combat-ready alien soldiers and then detonating a missile without having the slightest idea of its destructive power.
“Your idea is completely suicidal. We’ll be blown to bits if the Saharj don’t tear us to shreds first.”
“Don’t exaggerate,” Jazz said defensively. “There must be a timer. Beyond that, now that I have access, I can isolate the portals we need from the rest of the ship. That will make things easier for you.” As an aside, he added, “Speaking of a suicidal assault, where’s the big hairy dude?”
“Here with us,” reassured the pilot.
She knew he was too proud to ask directly for news of the cybrid.
“Perfect! He’ll be your vanguard and your shield. We’ve upgraded to sober Orcant status. That’s much better.”
Once informed of these details, the Dva set to work: they began to use their precision tools to dismantle an entire section of the synergetic tube, which would allow Mallory and Torg to get into the Saharj vessel.
For his part, Jazz was responsible for ensuring that the incursion wouldn’t trigger any alarms.
When the panel released with a metallic click, the cybrid joined the group of little aliens and helped them drag it aside, revealing a wide opening.
The pilot stuck her head inside, annoying Torg.
“Could you not wait just a second? What if there had been a Saharj right there?”
She ran a hand along her back, pulled out her hypertrophic revolver, and held it up. “I would have knocked the mummy unconscious.”
“Worry about your breathing mask instead. My nose tells me that the air in the ship won’t be good for you.”
Mallory took the filter the Vohrn had given her out of a pants pocket. “I had a feeling I’d have to use this thing again.”
As she adjusted it to cover her mouth and nose, Torg entered the enemy ship. Near the synergetic system, there was a set of beams wound with cables like boas sheathed in plastic. The lighting was limited to a vague glow from the control panels.
From the corner of her eye, Mallory saw the map transmitted by Jazz scroll by. The hologram on the makeshift navcom blurred from time to time. She walked silently behind Torg through the corridors, which ran along the ship’s octagonal structure. She was growing concerned about the length of the route Jazz had planned for them when Squish fluttered around her arm and urged her to look over her shoulder.
She saw that a Dva had followed them, and she had no trouble guessing who it was. “Rupo! You decided to get yourself killed?”
She was going to insist that he return to his team, but he said, “You need me for the missile.”
The pilot nodded. The Dva was right, even if his presence further complicated their task.
“Stay behind Mallory,” Torg ordered. “Things will get serious fast.”
With that, he went to the first door. Jazz opened it remotely, and it slid sideways, revealing a long hallway. Three tall dark silhouettes stood out against the bright yellow light. Torg rushed at them, taking advantage of their surprise.
The first Saharj in his path took brunt of the attack. Torg slammed into it with his 440 pounds, and it collapsed to the ground. The cybrid then threw a punch at the second Saharj just before it pulled the gun from its belt. Torg’s steel-reinforced knuckles crashed into the Saharj’s skull, which collapsed in turn.
The third Saharj unholstered his gun and pointed it at Torg. The cybrid dodged, throwing himself to his knees. He also cleared Mallory’s line of sight. She opened fire from the other end of the corridor. A small ball shot from her revolver, hardening and expanding to a hundred times its original size in a split second.
The big ball knocked the alien off its feet and threw it against the door at the other end of the long corridor. The ball fell away from the battered body and liquefied. A large pool formed and vanished in a flash.
Torg leaned over one of the Saharj and relieved it of its weapon. He stood and put a bullet in each of their heads.
Mallory grimaced at the sight. She didn’t like executions, even if they were merited.
Knowing this all too well, Torg spoke before she could. “This is our escape route. We can’t take a chance that they’ll stay knocked out. I’m all for leniency, except when it’s suicidal!”
She held her tongue: unfortunately, he was right.
Jazz’s voice rang out from her navcom necklace. “The Saharj are trying to kick me out of their system. I’ll hold out for as long as I can, but this is your warning not to dawdle…”
Mallory and Rupo crept between the corpses and joined Torg at the end of the corridor. Addressing the Natural Intelligence, the latter said, “Next door!”
The metal panel slid open to reveal the interior of the bridge. Mallory barely had time to note the physical setting: twelve Saharj turned to stare at the intruders.
Torg opened fire immediately. The weapon he had just picked up was an automatic. Taking cover behind the doorway, Mallory added bursts of hypertrophic bullets to the cybrid’s barrage.
Caught off guard, the Saharj fell under the fury of the assault. Only three of them were able to fight back. Torg advanced on them, absorbing a large number of bullets before beating them down at close range. He even allowed himself the luxury of killing the last one with a monumental blow that crushed the alien’s face like a hammer smashing an egg.
Absolute silence followed the intense series of explosions. A slight but persistent hissing told Mallory that her ears hadn’t appreciated the noise from the weapons. Standing in front of her, Torg turned and shook Saharj blood from his dripping fingers. He declared:
“It was almost too easy. I think… Oh. See? I knew it!”
Mallory gave him a quizzical look, then realized he was looking behind them. She spun in turn and discovered Rupo lying not far from her in a pool of dark red, almost-black hemoglobin flowing from his head.
“Crap!” she swore. “Rupo!”
In three steps, she reached him and knelt. A bullet had struck the left side of his face, destroying at least five or six of his yellow eyes. The torn eyeballs were bleeding profusely. He moved slightly and seemed to be in shock, at least as far as Mallory could tell.
“Rupo! Say something!”
The Dva barely reacted to her voice. He managed to gasp out three words.
“Spray. Foam. Repair.”
She saw his tiny fingers waving in the air, seeking to grab hold of something. As she looked, she realized that he was wearing a harness made of several pockets closed with flaps.
Mallory opened them one by one. She found and removed a spray can. “Is this what you want?”
The ailing Dva nodded and asked her to cover his mutilated face with it. Aware that every second counted, she did so without any hesitation.
A yellow foam sprayed from the vial and quickly covered the entire impressive wound. The substance seethed for a moment and then froze gradually like a block of rubber.
As the strange first aid kit did its job, Mallory looked at Torg over her shoulder. “I don’t know if this lemony whipped cream will be enough to save him.”
Squish responded to her concern soothingly. He was sure Rupo would pull through.
A few seconds later, she could see that the jufinol was right. Rupo’s still-working eyes lost their stare and focused on her. As if nothing had happened, he said, “The synthflesh will allow me to hold on for a while.”
While helping him to stand, Mallory could not help b
ut wonder how such a frail creature could be able to speak after such a serious injury. The foam was probably full of stimulants and wouldn’t merely seal the wound.
Mallory and her companions watched the Dva totter around the flagship’s bridge. He went from console to console, carefully examining their configuration. He eventually chose one of them. The pilot couldn’t tell what made it different from the others.
The Dva’s thirty-two fingers touched the keyboard, which was designed for Saharj morphology, and began typing furiously. His actions produced a steady, almost hypnotic stream of sound, like the burble of a stream.
Finally, with one last keypress, he turned to Mallory. “I programmed the missile to detonate and locked the launch tube. However, I have no idea how the weapon itself works. I suggest we leave the asteroid with all due haste.”
XXV
INJURIES
MALLORY moved quickly, carrying the wounded Dva in her arms. The thin, black-furred alien seemed to weigh no more than twenty-five pounds. Squish and Torg followed her, the jufinol once again riding on the shoulders of the cybrid, who wanted to have his hands free in case they ran into any Saharj. They passed the aliens they had slaughtered during their incursion into the flagship and arrived at the synergetic tube. The pilot looked for the panel that the other Dva had disassembled to allow them to get onboard, while struggling to contain her anxiety: she didn’t know how long they had, and Rupo had just fallen unconscious.
When she located it, she couldn’t repress her sigh of relief. The Saharj ship had now become a time bomb, and she didn’t feel like hanging around to learn more about the weapon Vassili had provided from up close.
Holding the unconscious alien with one arm, she struck the panel four times. In response to this signal, the Dva who had stayed behind opened access to the synergetic tube.
She stepped up and said, “It’s done. Let’s get out of here!”
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