“That’s just gonna get you killed,” said Jolo. “You of all people know exactly how these cells are made.”
“Yes, and that’s why I am exactly the person to come up with something,” said Barth.
“The only way out is if they try to move us. We fight our way free,” said Jolo.
Greeley stopped pacing. “What’ll make ‘em move us? Gimme one of those little, smooth-faced, green bastards. Hell, I’ll take two out before one a those wussies even gets a shot off.” He was standing in the center of the tiny cell now, his chest out and fists balled, the muscles in his arms bulging.
Suddenly Filcher appeared, alone, on the other side of the energy field. It was like looking at someone through a thin wall of water, his blue uniform slightly distorted. His voice was a little off as well, like he was farther away, even though only a few meters separated them. Greeley ran towards the wall but Jolo put out his hand to stop him. “Let us out you yellow, worm lovin’ little bitch!” Greeley spit out his words. He went on for awhile longer, until he was out of breath. Jolo put a hand on his shoulder.
“Soon,” said Filcher. “I’m waiting for rendezvous coordinates. We’ll be heading out to the fringe to protect the survivors.”
“So you’re going tuck tail and run while the human race is obliterated?” said Jolo.
“No.” He fiddled with the top button on his jacket. “I’m saving those that can be saved. I’m saving you.”
“What about my people on Duval?” yelled Jolo.
“They will run if they are smart. The core will be taken.”
“The core will be taken? We’re led by cowards and fools!” screamed Barth.
“Realists!” said Filcher. “Do the math! Even you, Captain Vargas, who always jumped in head first without a plan, can see that we can’t stand against the black bast—” Filch stopped, glanced up at a tiny light on the ceiling, then continued in a lower voice. “…against the Bakhane Grana. They will help advance human civilization with their superior culture and intellect.”
……
There were screams from the room next door. Katy sat on the cold concrete floor and put her hands over her ears but the muffled, gurgling, gagging moans from the next room bored into her head. She tried to go to another place in her mind, so she imagined the blackness of space, wished herself piloting the Argossy, and she could hear her thrusters roaring when they burned, but then another desperate wail shattered the illusion and she was sitting again on the dirty floor. Katy, Merthon, and two locals that were helping with the move had been rounded up and thrown into one of the small bays alongside the main hangar. They were lucky to still be alive, she had seen the blond synths and the big, terrible mechs killing men and women, Duvalites who were helping with the evacuation.
The big black ships had come all at once. The pirate patrol orbiting Duval got out a warning message before they were destroyed, so the ground crews had about two minutes to man the big surface guns. But fighting a ground assault was the last thing they were prepared for. All efforts had been about escape. Most of the big guns had been taken down and put on the large transport with all of their supplies. The big Fed merchant carrier that was going to take them all away was still on the deck, but Katy last saw it engulfed in flames. Two men, one named Park, who wasn’t even a pilot, had tried to get the big ship airborne, and at least have a chance to jump out and hide, but the BG had come too quick, and there were too many. Most of the smaller pirate ships had all been blown away by the big ion cannons on the BG cruisers, the surface guns reduced to large, black craters in the orange clay.
Suddenly, the door swung open and Marco landed like a bag of potatoes on the concrete floor, blood on his shirt and all over his face. He lay motionless, a pool of red bubbles forming on the ground under his bloody, drooling mouth. He was breathing. Katy crawled over to him and started to cry. Marco tried to speak but nothing came out except red.
The one-armed synth girl stood in the doorway clutching an old pair of pliers, blood dripping down from the end. It was the one named Silana that Merthon had captured. She pointed the bloody pliers at Katy. “This one is next.”
Two black hover bots grabbed Katy by either arm and raised her up. Merthon jumped between the bots and the synth. But the hover bots forced him out of the way, picked Katy up and carried her into the room, her feet dragging on the floor. They dropped her and she sat up and looked around: two bots, the Silana, a BG warrior and Merthon. She could hear the terrible sound of the big, black mechs moving around topside. Each step shook the walls. She’d seen them cut down the old and sick with their energy blades. The others had been rounded up and driven into a transport like cattle. Ion cannon blasts tore through the upper levels rattling the lights above, but the blasts grew less and less, and Katy imagined the few remaining pirate ships up top were either dead or running.
The warrior grabbed Katy in his metal claws and held her up so high her feet dangled off the ground. Her head bumped the ceiling and she wondered if this is how it would end. She could see Merthon from the corner of her eye on his knees. “Where is Vargas?” the BG warrior screamed in his terrible high-pitched electric voice.
She spit on his shiny round head. It dripped down into the red eye slit and the worm inside began to shriek. He grabbed her by the neck and pushed her up until her head broke through the lightweight ceiling tiles and for a split second she could see the dark crawlspace above the room. This is it, she thought. Now he’s going to kill me. I don’t want them to pull out my teeth. Just kill me, or give me a gun and let me fight. But not like this.
He pulled her back down and she struggled to get her feet under her, but then he snatched her up again and she heard a little pop and wondered if her neck was broken. She realized no air was moving through. She wanted a breath of air but the fight was leaving her and her body began to feel heavy and dull.
“Where is Vargas!” the big machine screamed at her again, but his voice barely penetrated the dense fog surrounding her, dulling the sound, dulling the pain. She could see the shiny black head shaking as it yelled, and it was almost as if she wasn’t there anymore. She tried to spit at it again but couldn’t. Her head felt thick and heavy and a darkness on the edge of her vision began to creep in. And then she couldn’t feel anything at all, her legs were there but it was like she was floating.
A tiny part of her knew the big, black mech had her in its alacyte fingers and was squeezing the life out of her, but she was leaving, the darkness had swallowed her but she felt strangely warm and safe. She could feel sunlight on her face and grass under her fingers and her father’s voice called to her, “Katerina, Katerina, come home.” And she ran to the sound.
There was a flash across her vision and another distant voice. She wanted the new voice to go away. She wanted to stay under the soft green grass with the blue sky above and white clouds drifting by. But the other voice got louder and suddenly her face felt cold again and there was a pain growing in her neck and she felt herself falling down, back down, into the pain from before and this wasn’t the place she wanted to be. And then she heard a name: Jolo. They kept repeating it. Yes, Jolo, she thought. I’ve got to go back for Jolo.
She sucked in a deep breath and screamed, her neck was on fire and her whole body convulsed. And she could hear a desperate voice talking fast. It was the Vellosian, Merthon. He was telling a story. “…Yes, yes!” he cried. “That is the truth of it. He went to see Admiral Filcher. Keep her alive and he will come. He loves her.” And the worm inside started to laugh, a screeching wail. And the sounds got louder and louder and Katy’s knees throbbed where she had fallen, where she’d been dropped. She realized she was under the mech, her head on one of its alacyte feet and she crawled back and Merthon helped pull her through the door into the room from before. The Silana locked them inside and Katy put her head in Merthon’s lap and she felt his gentle hands checking her neck and her back. “I’m sorry,” he kept repeating to her over and over.
He said Jolo loves
me, she thought.
……
Jolo heard them before they made it around the corner. “That sounds like worms comin’.” Soon two giant Bakanhe Grana warriors stood motionless on the other side of the energy wall. Filcher, looking frail and helpless, stood right between them. Two Fed security detail grunts moved off to the left, behind the BG. The older marine with the scratched up armor trailed them a few meters back and stood behind everyone. The young marines’ rifles were hot. Jolo could see the thin blue line of plasma glowing on the top of the forestock. They were tense, unlike the older one who was standing at attention with a bored, sour look on his face. We can’t win this one, thought Jolo. He hoped Greeley wasn’t going to try anything. The odds were too high. Three Fed guns vs. Jolo and Greeley on the move, down the hallway, and there was some hope. But the two big mechs threw everything off. They could kill all of the humans in a second.
Filcher’s hair was messy like he’d just woken up, his eyes bloodshot, one button on his jacket undone. His breath came in ragged gasps like he’d run all the way there and he swayed just a little like there was some imaginary wind moving him. He went for the flask in his jacket pocket and took a pull. “You three will follow these, uh, these gentle-, uh, black mech bastards to their ship. They have graciously arranged passage back to Duval. I’m sure it will be a safe trip.” Filch started to fall in towards the energy wall and one of the mechs used his staff to pull him back.
The older marine spoke into his comm. “Cell block 472 section D, release door.” That’s the only one with his wits about him, thought Jolo.
Suddenly the lights on the side of the wall went green and Jolo could see Filcher and the BG clearly. Filch leaned in towards him and the young marines tensed but held their ground. “Stand down, you fools!” Filcher screamed at them and they shuffled back a step. Meanwhile the big black mechs stood motionless like giant metal pillars. The only thing moving were their red ocular receptors behind the slit on their round, black heads.
“I know these men and would like to say a formal goodbye, if you don’t mind,” Filch said to the warriors. He tried to push one of them back but he might as well have just tried to shove the side of a building. “Fine, I’ll just step inside.” And Filch stepped into the cell block and gave Jolo a sloppy, drunk, hug. “Here, take a drink,” and he handed Jolo the flask, but Jolo refused. So he gave it to Barth, who took a pull, and then Greeley. The big man paused and stared hard at Jolo. Then slowly the flask went back to Filch. “Come on, buddy. For old times’ sake.” And Filch put his back to the BG and he gave Jolo a look. His expression changed for a flash and he handed Jolo the small bottle and Jolo took it and had a swallow. The flask was metal, but Jolo’s thumb sunk into a soft section on the back.
Jolo knew immediately he was holding a small breach charge designed to put a hole in a door lock mechanism. They were Fed military issue and even though Jolo and Greeley would normally blow doors open with their guns, Jolo remembered them from long ago. Computer, he thought, how many seconds after contact with metal will a Federation breach charge explode?
0 to 34 seconds.
Well, let’s hope it ain’t 34 or we’re all dead, thought Jolo.
By then the BG warriors were gesturing for them to file out. Jolo needed a small diversion to get close enough and right on cue Filch fell into the black mech on his left, by then Greeley was half way out so Jolo slammed the small charge hidden by the flask on the chestplate of the mech on his right. He yelled and dove back, Greeley bowled into the Fed greenies and a split second later the charge went off and the big BG fell to the floor in a hunk of metal. The other one was tangled up in Filch, but deftly recovered, moving the Admiral out of the way without injuring him and then coming down with his fully lit staff in one smooth movement. He missed Jolo by a centimeter but cut one of the young marines. The energy blade tore through the man’s armor and nearly cut him in half. He landed in a pile next to the downed mech, his eyes open, mouth twitching but no words, a dark red spreading outwards in a circle around them on the white floor.
Greeley snatched the rifle from the other young marine and unloaded on the standing mech, who turned and stepped towards him, its staff glowing red on both ends. The worm inside was screaming murder. Greeley realized too late that his weapon was set to stun and wasn’t making much headway even though he was focused on the chestplate. Jolo tried to reach for the other rifle but the strap was still wrapped around what remained of the marine, and then the mech stepped forward, slipping in the blood, the blade arcing down for Greeley’s head.
The old marine unloaded on the BG and pushed it back, out of range of its long staff, both ends angry red blades. Greeley recovered, scrambling backwards, reset his weapon and they both fired on the mech until the chestplate was cherry red. The big warrior lurched forward, straight into the stream of both Fed rifle blasts, the worm inside crying out in a high-pitched wail, and made one last attack, the glowing blade swiping down again from on high. The mech started to fall towards the cell and Barth jumped back onto Jolo, the blade swooshed overhead and came down carving a black gash into the wall of the cell and the warrior fell screaming into the center of the tiny room. Smoke rose up from its chestplate, a melted mess of alacyte and burning worm.
Jolo pulled Barth back against the wall, but the BG did not move, the screeching had finally stopped. It was dead quiet suddenly, the only sound was heavy breathing and the sizzle and pop of the worm frying inside its own armor.
Finally Jolo stood up and grinned, “Smells like a barbecue.” Greeley, still clutching onto the Fed energy weapon, stepped over the fallen Fed marine and the tangled alacyte mess of BG warrior.
The young marine without his rifle jumped up and demanded Greeley hand over the weapon. “Unauthorized use of a Federation firearm is against the law and punishable—” he said, but then Jolo had him by the neck and walked him back against the wall.
“Be quiet,” Jolo said. He loosened his grip and the marine started up again so Jolo threw him in the cell. Greeley held him inside at gunpoint. “Shoot him if he says another word,” said Jolo.
The old marine was kneeling over Filcher, checking for a pulse. The admiral was splayed out on the floor, the pool of blood from the dead marine had engulfed Filcher’s legs in a glossy, dark slick. “Is he okay?” said Jolo.
“He’s alive. He knew the blast was coming but he didn’t get out of the way. He told us to stand back.”
“Maybe he wanted to go,” said Jolo.
“I’m gonna call in a med team.”
Jolo took the downed marine’s knife and cut away the thick black strap, then slid the knife under his belt and took the energy rifle. “Greeley, Barth, let’s go,” he said.
“Your ship is in the impound. I can take you there,” said the old marine.
“How we gonna get around security?”
“I’m captain of the guard. I’ll call them off.”
“Why are you helping?” said Jolo.
The old marine looked down at Filcher. “Because he told me what’s really happening.”
Decisions
Aboard the Argossy
1 day left
The old marine named Kess put neck rings on Jolo, Greeley and Barth. “This is just for show,” he said. “They aren’t active but most won’t be able to tell.” Then he marched them straight to docking bay 7 four levels down with his rifle aimed at their backs, cursing them when other Feds showed up in the passageways of the big ship. Jolo glanced over at Greeley and the big man had a smile on his face.
“Head down and try not to look so happy,” said Jolo.
“Cain’t help it, Cap’n,” said Greeley. He aimed his head down and tried to erase the smile but ended up with a strange grimace.
In this way they made it down to the docking bay. There was a small sec detail on the deck and Kess ordered them up to the cells where they’d just come from. All four marines hustled out and the only people left were ground crew who didn’t seem to care about the g
ray haired marine and the three prisoners.
The docking bay was huge. They walked past two smaller transports and there, right next to a gunship was the Argossy. It stood out amongst the Fed ships with its old-style rounded nose and odd dorsal fin. The Fed ships were angular and had an aggressive look, but Jolo knew in a pinch he’d take the old Argossy any day over one of the Fed boats.
The docking bay door was a giant energy field much like the cell door they’d just left. Jolo could see out into the blackness of space, but he could also see the energy field shimmering and the blue generators on either side glowing.
“How we gonna get through the door?” Jolo said to Kess.
Kess turned to a one of the ramp hogs, a skinny man with a dirty coverall and a red hat. He carried a big spanner used to lock the power cables that recharged the boats.
“Private,” Kess yelled to the man and pointed at the Argossy. “This thing juiced up?”
“Yes, sir. She’s full up, but locked down,” he said, heading for one of the smaller Martin GX transports. Lately, the Fed had begun to rely on outsourced boats like the little Martins since the Fed had slowed ship production.
“How about unlocking it?” said Kess. The man stopped and eyed Jolo and company.
“I’m not supposed to… uh… I’ll need authorization.”
“Well, we’ll need to bypass authorization. You’ll have to do it manually.” He aimed the rifle at the man’s head, then reconsidered and pointed it at his knees. “Call ops and you’re gonna need some new legs.” Then he turned to Jolo. “Y’all take off the collars.” Jolo rubbed his neck.
Soon he was onboard the Argossy waiting for the all clear. The crewman had to manually override the energy field at the main junction box near the generators. Kess was standing nearby making sure he didn’t try to run. Koba came on to the bridge holding a rifle. “Captain!” he said. “Good to see you.”
The Jolo Vargas Space Opera Series Box Set Page 36