Four on the Run

by Jeff Deischer

  Observing the open bay door, Rastheln’iq said, “It appears the crew abandoned ship.”

  “No sign of beam or torpedo damage,” said the Tatar girl as she inspected the hull of the great derelict as the shuttle came near the Vishnu.

  The ship was dark, though dim lights were visible at certain points, including the bay. This was not bright enough to reveal what lay within, but the proximity sensors of the shuttle were better than light. The little craft sailed into the hangar bay of the derelict, for the sensors’ measurement taking was more precise than any eye could make.

  “Looks like their own shuttle is missing,” observed Indri, gesturing to a marked area to one side that was vacant.

  “As I surmised,” murmured Rastheln’iq.

  The Tatar girl set the shuttle down with remarkable gentleness in the fifty-foot high space. As she left her seat, the Viridian scientist said, “There are but two atmosphere suits. Indri Mindsinger and I will investigate.”

  “I’m tougher than the both of you put together,” Noomi Bloodgood snarled. “I don’t need protecting.”

  “On the contrary,” said Rastheln’iq, “if you are injured or killed, we will have no one to pilot this shuttle. If there is danger, any survivor that makes it back has a chance of escape if you are here.”

  “He’s right,” the Delphian priest agreed, though he did not want to. Fellow Delph had died at the hands of Wormwood, and Indri wanted as little to do with him as possible. But what he said made sense.

  As the two men suited up, Indri Mindsinger said, “I sense a presence here. Faint, but real.”

  “Oh?” asked the Viridian scientist in a tone full of wonder.

  “Yes, and it feels that it belongs here. But it’s also afraid.

  “I can’t say more. Psychomancy isn’t magic, you know.”

  Rastheln’iq studied the Delph. “It is a shame you are not a pilot. I would feel safer with the Tatar by my side.”

  “Likewise,” retorted Indri unkindly.

  With that, the two men disembarked from the small fore chamber, going out into the hangar bay. This was a hundred fifty feet wide and two hundred long. A number of doors surrounded the bay.

  The pair’s first order of business was shutting the large bay door. If there was any atmosphere in other parts of the craft, it would then not escape when they left the bay and entered the ship proper. The controls were simple and straightforward, and Rastheln’iq had no trouble getting the big bay door closed. The fact that the controls still functioned meant that the ship’s power plant still had some life in it. That gave him some hope for his plans.

  Meanwhile, Indri Mindsinger explored the bay. What first got his attention were a number of corpses. These had been perfectly preserved by the vacuum of space. They appeared human, though with the injuries that had killed them, it was difficult to be certain. Their wounds were obvious. Most had scorch marks on their navy-colored uniforms. Two had been torn apart.

  Indri moved on.

  For the first time, he noticed that the prison shuttle had no markings of any kind on its exterior. This was not only illegal, although it wasn’t always strictly enforced, since electronic identification was commonplace, but impossible in the Imperium. The navy had regulations about that sort of thing. This was another puzzle in the mystery of Perga.

  At the bow, the Delphian priest found cold sleep units. He was intrigued by this, for they had not been in use for centuries in the Imperium except in medical facilities, and only the most primitive planets still used the occasionally unreliable technology. That would certainly explain the unfamiliar configuration of the ship, being from some less advanced world that was just exploring space. The Imperium kept an eye on these cultures, but the Delph, having been in custody for some time, would not have heard the news of a new one attaining space flight and Overdrive capability. Known space was a big place and there were still habited planets that had not yet been discovered. What lay beyond the territory of the Layeb Instrumentality, the Imperium’s only real enemy, was unknown, as was what lay on the other side of the Imperium from Earth, known simply as Cosmos Incognita. Perhaps Purgatory was located on the frontier and this derelict belonged to some undiscovered species? That could account for Perga’s secret location.

  Yes, Indri decided, that seemed the likeliest explanation. All that made sense – except for the script on the side of the Vishnu. That made it an ancient Republic of Earth ship – unless the markings coincidentally looked like Englot, but was not. His knowledge of Englot was not sufficient to draw any definitive conclusion about this. It was a mystery.

  Could the Vishnu be the actual ship upon which that the legend of the Brobdingnab was based? Over time, legends grew and warped. Perhaps the Brobdingnab was never the largest luxury liner ever built, and its story morphed as centuries passed. But there was then the problem of the difference in names. No matter, Wormwood would sort it out once he accessed the ship’s computer.

  The Delph had examined the first several of the cold sleep chambers and found them empty when Rastheln’iq’s thin, reedy voice came over the radio. “Are you ready to proceed to the next level, Mindsinger?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  They met at the elevators that lay at the front of the bay, behind the cold sleep chambers. These only went up, this level being the bottom of the ship.

  Indri saw that Rastheln’iq had removed his helmet, and plumes of steam escaped his thin green lips as he breathed the cold air of the bay. Once the Delphian priest had done the same, he heard the Vir say, “I activated the blowers. It will be comfortable soon enough. The ship has been in hibernation mode, explaining the dim lights we observed. I expect that there will be atmosphere in other parts of the ship. Once we find the master computer, I should be able to find out more about it.”

  The two entered the elevator, and took it one level up. There was a single corridor that appeared to run the length of the ship. Not far distant, at the bow, was an airlock. Toward the aft was a collection of rooms. The men moved in that direction. Splitting up at an intersection, they found a number of staterooms, too few for the size of the ship, Rastheln’iq thought. But before he could give this much thought, Noomi Bloodgood’s voice came over his helmet radio, “A robot just came into the bay! I’ve never seen his type before but he doesn’t look friendly!”

  “Perhaps that is the presence you sensed,” Rastheln’iq suggested to the Delphian priest.

  “No,” retorted Indri Mindsinger, “I cannot detect cybernetic minds, only organic ones.”

  “Then perhaps an organic one is directing the cybernetic one,” returned the Viridian scientist.

  “I don’t think so,” Indri replied in a thoughtful tone. He was plainly puzzled by what he sensed – and what he did not. Finally, he told Rastheln’iq about the little Zam gun he’d found – so named for the peculiar sound it made when fired – mentioning, “It will do nothing against that robot.” Zammers, as they were sometimes called, were stunning firearms for use on organic life, temporarily short-circuiting nervous systems. “What shall we do?”

  “The Tatar is probably perfectly safe inside the shuttle,” said Rastheln’iq, “unless the robot is a combat model. With her Templar background, I presume the girl would recognize this if it was the case.”

  “So you propose to do nothing?”

  “Not at all,” answered the Vir. “I propose we continue our search and look for something to stop that robot if it comes looking for us.”

  “I’ll let you know if he heads your direction,” came Noomi Bloodgood’s voice. “Where are you?”

  As if anticipating the response of Indri, Rastheln’iq cut in: “Better not to say, in case the robot can hear and understand us.”

  The Tatar girl watched the robot. It resembled a primitive cast iron pot-bellied stove, standing some eight feet tall and possessing a number of arms, none of which resembled another; each seemed designed for a singular function. One of the arms resembled a tentacle. The robot’s skin
was unadorned silvery metal for the most part. Despite its ancient appearance, it glided over the metal floor of the bay effortlessly, circling the shuttle, using anti-gravity propulsion. It appeared to be studying the small ship. It made several passes around it, then departed, moving toward the bow where the elevators lay.

  “It’s on the move,” Noomi warned the two men.

  “Understood,” came Indri’s voice.

  When Rastheln’iq did not respond, he called out, “Wormwood?” Silence. “Wormwood!” he called out again, now moving back toward the central corridor. Finally, the Viridian scientist’s voice came. “I am fine. I found something. Meet me where we split up.”

  If the robot comprehended this, it still would not know where the two escapees were. Considering the old script on the hull, Rastheln’iq doubted it could process modern language, but their situation was delicate enough that it would not do to invite trouble. No sentient being, except for possibly heavy gravity-worlders, was a match for any robot, no matter how innocuous or well intentioned it was.

  When Indri arrived at the intersection a couple of minutes later, he found Rastheln’iq there, his thin arms full of weapons. The Delphian priest did not recognize their model. But their configuration said “handgun”. They were small, boxy, with a handgrip and a snout. They might have conceivably been tools of some sort, but if so, Indri did not recognize them.

  Reading the puzzlement on the Delph’s mottled features, Rastheln’iq said, “I do not recognize them, either, but using them is straightforward enough.”

  This was true. Handguns had not changed in millennia; hands were common enough among sentient races of known space that all weapons possessed handgrips, and firearms you merely had to point at a target. Simple enough.

  Rastheln’iq handed over a number of the weapons, explaining, “They appear to use primitive light technology. It must have been effective for it to be their means of offense or defense. We might find it effective against the robot if need be.”

  Indri Mindsinger unfastened his jumpsuit and deposited a few of the weapons into it – the prison uniforms possessed no pockets – retaining one in each hand. The Vir did the same, but left a single hand free.

  “I found the brig,” said Indri.

  “And I, the armory, obviously,” answered Rastheln’iq. “This must be the security level, and the rooms quarters for soldiers.”

  “I agree. Let us go.”

  But no sooner had the plant man cast his gaze in the direction of the lift when he announced, “The elevator is not there. The robot must have summoned it.”

  Indri raised his two weapons and pointed them at the elevator opening.

  “Do not be foolish, Mindsinger,” said Rastheln’iq. “I saw an elevator in the armory. Follow me.” He hurriedly led the way through the maze of rooms and corridors until the pair arrived at the lift. Getting in, the Vir touched a glassine plate with an “up” arrow on it. Like other controls he had found, it was sensitive to touch. The elevator began to rise.

  Two doors and a corridor lay outside the elevator. It faced another lift, a wall having been between them on the lower deck. One set of doors led to another corridor, one that ran the length of the Resvishnu. Ignoring that for the moment, Rastheln’iq tried the other doors. Beyond this lay a control room of some kind. While Indri Mindsinger stood watch in the corridor, the plant man studied the control panels. These were marked in the same old script as the name on the hull, and it took him some time to decipher the various plates that were activated by touch. When he was finished, he reported to the Delph: “Weapons control. This appears not to be a warship. If my interpretations are correct, the ship only carries defense missiles, not autodrones or torpedoes.

  “The system is currently off. It must be re-activated before anything functions other than the elevators or doors. This ship is in hibernation: Autonomic functions are working, but the ship’s operating system is off. We must find the mainframe.”

  Indri Mindsinger nodded.

  “It seems unlikely it would be on this level, so we should continue upward.” Without waiting for a response, Rastheln’iq returned to the elevator. The Delphian priest followed.

  As it rose, the Viridian scientist observed, “We are bypassing a level, based on the length of time that is passing.”

  “The first elevators we used were larger,” remarked the Delph. “They must be the main lifts, stopping at every level.”

  “Hopefully, the robot will confine his travel to them. If so, we may avoid him for some time. Leaving the weapons level so quickly should delay him finding us, at any rate.”

  “You think he’s looking for us?”

  “I intend to act as if he is. It is safer that way.”

  Indri nodded. “You’re right.”

  “I usually am,” Rastheln’iq agreed without so much as a hint of pride in his thin voice.

  The elevator then stopped, and the two men stepped out. They chose the short hall to the aft, rather than the doors in the other direction, which, if this deck followed the plan of the others, would lead to a corridor that ran the length of the Vishnu.

  The door at the end of the short hall opened, and Rastheln’iq surveyed the chamber, which was diamond shaped and sixty feet along its major axis, which was also the keel of the Resvishnu. Near the center stood an elevator.

  The plant man went to one console and studied it. “This appears to be auxiliary control. I may be able to get the main operating system working from here. Access to the ship’s library may tell us quite a bit about where we are.”

  Standing in the doorway, Indri Mindsinger smiled grimly. Little by little, their chances were improving. They had done the impossible by escaping the prison transport, survived a minefield of anti-matter and found a functioning derelict – at least partially functioning. Re-starting the engines would be the litmus test of success in the Delphian priest’s mind. “Are you making any progress?” he asked patiently.

  “Some. I not only need to ascertain the purpose of unfamiliar controls, but also decipher the ancient script that labels the controls. I assure you I am doing my best.”

  “I know.”

  Rastheln’iq continued to work in silence, and Indri Mindsinger did not disturb him.

  Suddenly the hum of the elevator permeated the deck.

  “The other elevator is arriving!” the Delph barked. Moving into the auxiliary control room, he leveled his guns at the lift door. He waited for the elevator to stop and disgorge its passenger.

  Behind him, Indri heard Rastheln’iq on the radio confirming that Noomi Bloodgood had not left the hangar bay, to ensure that she would not be shot by accident. The Viridian scientist seemed to think of everything.

  The elevator door opened, revealing the robot, the type of which Indri had not seen before, either. Without waiting to see what it would do, the Delphian priest fired his two weapons. Hot, bright light pulsed out of them, and struck the robot. Most of the beams’ energy seemed to dissipate against its tarnished skin, seemingly deflected by some arcane alchemical means.

  As the robot came forward, Indri stepped back into the room. The door shut behind him, and he shot the controls to keep the robot out. Through the metal door, he heard the arms of the robot begin to work.

  Glancing at Rastheln’iq, he asked, “Now what?”

  “As loath as I am to take the elevator without knowing its destination, it seems we have little choice,” answered the plant man. He moved quickly to the single lift in the room, and found the glassine plate in it indicated that it only went down – to the level they’d skipped.

  Indri Mindsinger joined him, and the Vir set the elevator in motion.

  They emerged in an irregularly shaped chamber. Taking the equipment therein in a glance, Rastheln’iq explained, “Unless I am mistaken, this monitors the sensors and communications array, but it is incredibly primitive. Everything here is.” His mind began working to solve the puzzle of the ship, unable to resist the challenge.

  “I�
��m not hopeful that the broken door control will stop the robot,” admitted Indri.

  “No, probably not,” the Viridian scientist agreed.

  It quickly became apparent that the elevator was the only entrance or exit to the monitor room. The chamber held less than two thousand square feet of floor, so there was no chance of the pair having missed a door or stairway in their search.

  “I can find only one avenue of escape,” Rastheln’iq announced finally.

  “Oh?” Indri asked with an undertone of hope, for it still eluded him.

  “Outside.”

  “What?” Indri asked, not completely certain he had heard the plant man correctly.

  “Certain elements of the sensor equipment lie outside, on the hull of the ship,” explained Rastheln’iq. “There is probably a way out to repair them from here.”

  “And then we return to the bay along the skin of the ship, where Noomi can let us in,” Indri said excitedly, following the Vir’s train of thought.

  “Actually, there is a closer way in,” said Rastheln’iq. “The ship’s missile rack is one deck below. There is probably an exterior manual override that will grant us entrance there.

  “And if not, we can make our way to the hangar bay as you suggested.”

  Pulling on his helmet, Indri Mindsinger began looking for the hatch that the Viridian scientist postulated. Soon, the two found what they were looking for: It was not an airlock, but simply a hatch that opened the room to the vacuum of space.

  The elevator arrived, and, opening, revealed the robot.

  “It’s here,” cried Indri, pulling one of the guns he carried and firing at the robot. As before, this had little effect on the machine, which came toward the pair.

  Rastheln’iq, who had also donned his helmet, frantically opened the hatch, and the two men were blown out into space by the greater air pressure within the chamber. The robot, held in place by its anti-gravity propulsion, silently watched them as they activated their suit impellers and made their way back toward the hull.