Shadows

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Shadows Page 10

by Brian Whiting


  “Stay there, we are entering.”

  A burst of gunfire came from both the datapad and the room below. Alex watched as several Gothans died as they returned fire toward unseen targets. Then he observed Gs Ho Tae approach the base of the tree with about four others. They were skilled warriors using their handheld weapons as often as their claws as they fought one-on-one combat with the occupants in the room.

  In a flurry of motion, the room suddenly swelled in numbers and Gs Ho Tae was pinned to the ground.

  “Stop!” came a voice from the datapad.

  Alex decided he needed to get down there. The only thing he saw that might help were four stainless-steel-looking poles that hugged the interior walls and went down to the bottom. Perhaps I could get down that way, he thought to himself as he put down the heavy Thean weapon.

  “I am excited to see you here. Gs Ho Tae, I must admit you are resilient still yet without you we will usher in a new era for our people.” Ga Det Gru said.

  “You kill over nothing, the gats aren’t better. Who would you mate with, if you killed all the others?” Gs Ho Tae said while looking up at Ga Det Gru.

  “Ahh, well, nothing a little science couldn’t cure.”

  Alex grabbed onto the pole and slid down at an alarming speed; he quickly learned there was an odd slime that covered the pole that accelerated his descent. No matter how hard he tried to tighten his grip on the pole, it was no use. He hit the floor very hard. Pain shot up both of his legs. He pulled both sidearms and, from his position lying on his stomach, he began firing off rounds.

  The room burst into a frenzy of activity. Dozens of child sized aliens running, shooting and slashing at each other. Alex was barely able to focus on what was happening. But he fired at any Gothan holding a weapon, killing most of those he shot at. Then, as if a sixth sense was talking to him, he looked to his left abruptly just in time to see a Gothan diving through the air, claws extended. Like a child pouncing on its parents while they read a book.

  Alex managed to raise a leg and partially deflected the incomer, but a claw caught his ankle and opened him up to the upper thigh. With the butt of the pistol, Alex smashed the attacker’s head in. He found it was easy to crush, like an uncooked egg. Then his own pain began to register, and he howled into the building causing a terrible echo. Like a long-forsaken beast rising from the ashes.

  Alex glanced at the wound. It wasn’t particularly deep, perhaps. He couldn’t really tell from his face first on the ground position. Then he felt another wave of even more intense pain as he looked over and realized that two eyes of another Gothan were face-to-face with him, its claws buried deep in his left shoulder. With his right hand, he grabbed the neck of the Gothan, tiny as a cucumber, and swung its body in the air and onto the floor. He felt the neck snap under his hands more than once, he was sure. The Gothan’s eyes became motionless, and he tossed the far-too-light creature away from him. His pistol was out of ammo, and he needed to reload.

  He fumbled with a closed pocket trying to remove a magazine from it when fresh new pain registered in both of his legs.

  “Argghhh!” Alex screamed. The general chaos and shooting in the room continued, which dulled only for a moment as everyone, friend and foe, turned to look at Alex on the floor as he screamed.

  “Enough, it is over!” an imperious voice shouted over the noise. Alex knew that this was Ga Det Gru.

  Still lying belly on the floor, Alex felt something move behind him and then a sharp pain, and then wetness. As he looked back, he saw a Gothan standing between his legs, arms out to its side and claws dug into each on his thighs. His own blood was pooling on the floor.

  Ga Det Gru and a dozen others approached the injured Gs Ho Tae and two of his men, as they too lay prostrate on the floor. Without ceremony or speech of any kind, Ga Det Gru fired two rounds into the heads of Gs Ho Tae’s followers, leaving Gs Ho Tae surrounded by his enemies in a growing pool of his followers’ blood.

  “I am in charge now, Gs Ho Tae. I will lead our people, and we will be safe and free. We will prosper like never before, especially since we will not have to support your kind anymore.”

  Alex groaned as the Gothan behind him shifted its weight, the claws moving slightly within his flesh as a result.

  “Human, do not speak here, in this place!” Ga Det Gru walked across the area to where Alex lay helpless. Alex watched the small, frail-looking alien nearly standing on his head, even though at full height Alex could still arch his back and be eye to eye with it, but he was far too weak to use his arms to support his weight.

  “You have nothing to offer us. It will be a fitting end,” Ga Det Gru said, dropping gat weapon and instead holding gat fist out, closer to Alex’s skull.

  Alex noticed the openings in the fist where he knew the claws lay dormant, between the knuckles. He watched until the fist of the Gothan touched up against his skull, claws ready to extend into his brain.

  Alex was sure it spoke some more, but his attention drifted. His mind wandered to Amanda. He hoped to see her soon. How would the UEF react to his death?

  He didn’t notice the pain anymore as he awaited death’s embrace. In a flash he reviewed his life, all he had accomplished and everywhere he failed. Lingering maybe too long on his failures, he thought about what led him to this situation. The words of Lanora rang in his ears. He closed his eyes, sure the moment was imminent.

  Something soft splattered not too far from where he lay, and he opened his eyes. Ga Det Gru was frozen in gat stance a moment away from gat claws springing into Alex’s skull. Alex looked right to the location of the noise. A glowing orb began to flatten against the ground, first a bright orange but slowly turning brown and black as it flattened. Alex was still trying to identify it as even larger molten blobs splattered against the ground, and a small droplet of splatter reached out toward Ga Det Gru and ga spun to avoid the object. Ga was too slow as it stuck gat arm, and ga screamed in pain as ga fell backward onto the ground.

  A moment later Alex watched a stream of tiny stars descending from above all around him, some striking the Gothans but plenty missing targets, and the ultra-heated ground quickly began to warm up the room. Gothans screamed in terror and fled in all directions, like scattering cats, with about half made it to nearby openings along the wall.

  Alex looked behind him, noticing the Gothan behind him was no longer there. Looking further up he saw Jeremiah fire off two more rounds into the area around him as he fired the alien weapon from the opening Alex had created by melting the wall itself with this same weapon. The weapon stopped firing, an unmistakable swishing sound signified its emptiness.

  A moment later another team of Gothans flowed in from behind Jeremiah and used the nearest pole to slide down to the floor level. They rushed over toward Gs Ho Tae to protect him and quickly treated his injuries, ignoring Alex completely.

  Alex was too tired to care any longer. His eyes closed all too willingly, as he noticed the chill in his body.

  Chapter 9

  Unwanted Presents

  Deep within the Enterprise was a special room. Lanora stood at the far end and watched as the thing did its work. The room itself was bare. Inside the room sat a massive machine. The middle of a far wall held a huge compartment filled with piping, cables, conduits, and electrical components. The thing, the fabricator looked very sophisticated, she had to admit. Still had no real idea how it worked, though she understood the concept.

  Several small flat tables surrounded the machine. Over each table was a small mechanical arm affixed with pipes and conduits. Each arm was attached at the base of the large machine. The top of the machine wielded three very large arms of various sizes. Each arm could reach out and touch any point within the entire room.

  Lanora watched as the technician calculated the amount of material required versus the amount of material on hand. Even at a glance Lanora knew they had plenty. Yet the technician took his time making good calculations.

  “So…”

 
“Yeah, one second.”

  Lanora raised her eyebrows and looked away, feeling anxious.

  “We have enough; it will take one-point-two days to fabricate it.”

  Lanora looked back toward the technician. “It’s a priority piece of equipment. Get it done.”

  Suddenly the three large arms came to life, moving and whirling around in a frenzy. She was startled further as a loud hum filled the air as the fabricator quickly warmed up. The smaller arms began to move and make small quick jerky motions. It was hard to see, but even from where she stood she could see something taking shape on many of the small tables.

  One of the large arms seemed to rest on the floor as another came from above to meet at the middle between them, tips touching. A small glow manifested at the point of the upper arm, as solid material shifted from the base of the machine to the end of the lower arm via the conduits. Tiny metal ore shavings vibrated toward the end, where they were liquefied as the lower arm moved slowly, allowing the material to take new shape.

  Lanora watched for a few minutes in amazement. The lower arm retreated a few feet, and the third arm appeared. A tiny laser shot forth for an instant, clearing away imperfections as the lower arm continued its work.

  “Cool, huh?” the technician said, in a tone that struck her as obsessive.

  Lanora slowly tore her gaze away and glanced at the tech.

  “See, the little arms make smaller components, and when ready the smaller of the three arms will grab it and move it to the center of the room where it attaches it to whatever device that’s being created.”

  “Certainly those arms are not precise enough to make micro-circuitry.”

  As if on cue the first microcomponent completed processing within the bulky machine as a tiny arm reach out and grabbed it.

  “It’s not really micro-circuitry like we think of it,” the technician said. “It’s more like a gelatinous computational compound. One drop of that stuff far exceeded our previous technological abilities.”

  “If it’s so good, why aren’t we using it more often? Like, with our datapads, comm equipment, everything?”

  “Well, everything we’ve created with the fabricators has involved that material. Once we create more designs, we will eventually add it to everything and make everything smaller, better and faster. It’s just we haven’t had time to really pursue that kind of thing. It’s mostly been armor, weapons other machines and such, and now a subspace transmitter. Once someone designs a datapad using this material, I’m sure we can print it.”

  “I see. Well, thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Lanora turned and began the very short journey to the engineering lab, where she found the chief in a haze of emotion as he shouted at one of his subordinates. “Stop sputtering around like you lost something. Pick up your gear and move on,” the chief yelled.

  Lanora watched as a crewman, hunched over at the waist, quickly gathered some things.

  “Don’t forget that one, you—” The chief stopped himself and somehow, beyond what Lanora had thought herself capable of believing, he became even more enraged. “You don’t leave your tools around. Put them away after you’re done using them. If we came under attack a moment ago we would have your heavy tools floating around the bay causing untold havoc! Are you trying to kill people?” He finished shouting at the top of his lungs.

  Lanora thought she could hear the crewman mutter some kind of apology as he scurried out of the room. The chief focused his attention on what two other crewmen were huddled around. Lanora stepped into the bay and quietly strolled over.

  “You’re doing good, but try moving the adjacent bulkhead that way. We can replace this one much faster since you’ve given yourself that bit of extra space. Yes, good like that,” the chief said.

  Lanora watched as the two other crewmen manipulated the screens in front of them, and a representation of existing ship damage was rendered beautifully as they conducted virtual repairs.

  The chief startled Lanora when his whole body jerked as she approached.

  “Wha—” he began to shout before he stopped himself. “Captain,” he said, instead nodding respectfully.

  “I’ve got the fabricator creating a replacement subspace transmitter. It will be ready tomorrow. How long will it take you to install it?”

  “Ah, well… I mean, I could have it installed in two or three days. It will require a couple spacewalks, but that means Deck Four will continue to be exposed to space, if you let me finish there and then move the team onto the transmitter, it will save overall time, rather than jumping from one repair to another and back again.”

  “Don’t you have a couple repair teams?”

  “Well yes, and they are all needed to secure the massive bulkheads and repair exterior hull breaches. Once we can move around Deck Four without EVA suits, repairs will go much quicker.”

  “We need to get a message to Earth as fast as possible. We don’t have time to fix things.”

  “Transmitter it is then, don’t worry I will get it done.” The chief nodded again.

  She slowly turned away from him and began walking toward the bridge when she recognized a familiar face: Robert, otherwise known as the man that was almost fired. She knew he was on the ship, of course, she was the XO. But she hadn’t gone out of her way to converse with him, either. A question about him had stuck in the back of her mind like a splinter. She felt guilty for thinking it, but it was still there, it would always be there, his name tarnished for the rest of his life. She managed to say “hey” as she walked by him and pretended to be disinterested. She fought hard not to turn back and look, but an injured crewman walked past her field of view, and she refocused again on what was important. She berated herself for letting her ill-conceived notions about Robert distract her.

  “Captain to Deck Two, Section Twelve, please!” a voice from the ship’s speakers.

  Lanora changed her direction of travel. It was another couple minutes later before she was met with a slightly frantic crewman who, upon seeing Lanora, ran up to her screaming, “There’s a missile in there!”

  “What?”

  “Look out the window!”

  Lanora stepped around the frantic crewmen and entered the room. She scanned it visually: standard crew quarters, everything secured as it was supposed to be. She casually walked toward the window and before she got halfway there she noticed something odd just outside. As she got closer she realized it was attached to the hull. She stepped nose to the window and there it was: a missile, drill still attached to the hull, undetonated.

  She calmly realized she had no idea how to take care of this, and walked over to the in-cabin display screen where she messaged the chief and Jack to come and join her in the cabin.

  Jack was the first to arrive and nearly spouted off a comment before stopping himself when he saw Lanora staring out the window. He approached behind her, noticing a pleasant smell. Shoulder to shoulder they stood.

  “Oh crap!” Jack said.

  “Crap what?” the chief said as he entered the room. He walked up behind Jack. “Oh crap!”

  Lanora looked at them for a few moments and let it sink in. “We need a plan to remove it.”

  “Well, I say we should cut into each of those three arms that are buried into the hull, and it should drift away,” the chief said, looking at the metal he would have to cut through.

  “Umm, hell no! You’re going to cut this entire wall out and let the wall float away into space. We will find more quarters,” Lanora said.

  The chief looked at Jack with a smile. Jack’s expression grew cold. “You can’t be serious. The risk is too great, we have no idea how it will react when we cut into the damn thing. It might detonate; it’s a risk, a huge risk to the ship. Let’s amputate this room, rather than lose the ship!”

  “We could save the room though, and if we’re careful we can analyze the missile and learn more about it.” The chief looked to Jack.

  “It’s a miss
ile, it blows things up! Learned all I need to know.” Jack had his hands out to his side and was becoming a bit animated.

  “Cut the wall, Chief, it’s not worth the risk, make this your new priority.” Lanora turned away from the pair only to see another crewman barge into the room.

  “Captain! Our intralink went down.”

  Lanora pulled out her datapad and saw the words no signal. “Damn!” she said, and looked back toward the chief. “I’ll be on the bridge.”

  Jack looked at the chief, too. “If the intralink is down—”

  The chief cut him off and said, “The ship’s computers just went down.”

  Chapter 10

  Alternate Paths

  The sun was beating down, and crickets and other insects were buzzing wildly. The hat did little to stifle the heat. Carefully stepping around some thorny plant, he made his way to the well-worn path. Now he could pick up some speed. The ground was flat and worn. He approached a building whose original purpose was unknown. Many of the exterior walls were covered in vines, dirt, and mold. Before he reached the rear door, it opened for him. A thin screen door followed by a standard door that looked worn down as well.

  The room was cool, thanks to the newly installed air conditioners. As he entered the various rooms of the building people would stand up straight, some saluted, others just nodded their heads in respect. As he approached the other side of the building, he looked out the large wide windows that overlooked the village.

  Without looking at anyone in particular, Jorge said, “Ring the bell, there’s another load to unpack.”

  A younger male ran out of the building at a full sprint. The terrain was sloped at a downgrade, and he ran even faster until he disappeared in a small building. Moments later the bell on top of the building rang exactly two times.

  Over the next couple minutes, several people exited various buildings around the area and began to make their way up to the overwatch building. They were directed to a location to pick up the new supplies and distribute them.

 

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