Authors: Doug J. Cooper
He desperately wanted to rush. He knew, though, that while
he was hidden from sight, he could still draw their attention with noise.
Holding Cheryl tightly, he strode to the box units and his alley hideout,
placed her gently on the floor, pulled back the cape, and checked her vital
signs again. They were much stronger, but she remained unconscious.
Jack left Cheryl to return to the
ship. It was a distressing decision, but his sense of duty required that he
verify the status of the last two crew members and help them escape if they
were still alive. In preparation for his return, he doubled his firepower. He
always carried a weapon on his right wrist, and he attached a matching weapon
under his ghost suit to his left wrist. Both were primed and ready to fire.
The inattentive behavior of the guards made it easy for him
to regain entry onto the
Alliance
. This time he headed straight for the
operations bay. He found Leven, the security officer, lying in the doorway
leading into operations. It took but a moment to confirm the man was dead.
He stepped inside the facility and saw Cait crumpled near
the now-mangled crystal housing. Rushing to her side, his heart jumped when her
vital-signs reading indicated she was alive. Unlike Cheryl, though, she was
barely clinging to life. In a replay of events, he infused her with an ampule,
wrapped her in the ghost cape, and carried her back to the hideout.
Jack sat and watched Cheryl and Cait as they lay next to
each other in the alley. He tried to think of something more he could do to
speed their recovery. They both had the peaceful look of someone asleep, so he
imagined they weren’t in pain. He hoped they would recover soon, because the
longer they were out, the more challenging it would be for the three of them to
survive.
He considered possible next steps. It seemed clear that the
Alliance
no longer had value to their planning. The command bridge had suffered such
complete destruction that the ship couldn’t be used as an escape vehicle. And
the presence of guards served as evidence that the Kardish were paying
attention to the ship. At some point, Cheryl and Cait would be missed. So while
the
Alliance
stood as a symbol of home, their survival required that
they abandon it as a refuge and get far away.
He stood up and looked in all directions to see what he
could learn of their surroundings. Unfortunately, from the confines of the
alley, his view was greatly restricted, upward being his only clear line of
sight. Overhead, he could see the curvature of the Kardish vessel from side to
side as the hull wall traveled up, over, and down in a graceful arc.
Remembering his visit to the DSA imaging center, he recalled
that the vessel had a bulbous head at the bow that tapered off to a narrow tail
in the stern. He studied the hull overhead. From his current vantage point,
this front-to-back taper was less obvious but still noticeable. They could use
this taper like a compass to orient themselves toward the bow or stern of the
vessel when they were on the move.
He knew that if he were to develop viable options, he would
need to leave the alley and explore their surroundings. A reconnaissance
mission of this sort meant that he would be leaving his partners unconscious
and defenseless—a difficult choice, but he balanced it with the certainty that
they would all be dead if they stayed in the alley much longer. There was some
comfort in knowing that while he was out exploring, Cheryl’s ear speck would
let them establish communication should she recover.
This thought reminded him of the sticky speck he planted on
the Kardish leader. He prompted his com and listened to the ongoing
conversation for a few minutes. His com translated words where it could and
left the original Kardish in place if it had not yet resolved a translation. He
found the mishmash of languages distracting, so he left it running at a very
low volume and hoped his subconscious would send an alert if the chatter became
relevant to their survival.
Impatient for action, he prepped for his reconnaissance
mission. He adjusted the ghost cape so it covered Cheryl and Cait like a
blanket, then viewed them from several angles to confirm they were hidden.
There was a shiny surface on one of the box units in the alley, and he used it
to study his own reflection, or lack thereof, to assure himself that the ghost
suit was functioning properly. He shifted equipment appropriate for reconnaissance
into the ghost pack, then took the back exit out of the alley and started his
expedition. He headed away from the
Alliance
.
The alley led onto a larger lane that connected with a
broad, straight road. The lanes and roads had a grid layout that reminded him
of city living. He stood in the center of the broad road and looked into the distance,
and then turned and did the same in the other direction. The road ran for as
far as he could see. The most obvious feature in both directions was that it dead-ended
into enormous walls. Both walls went from top to bottom and side to side,
dividing the Kardish vessel into isolated sections. Huge hangar doors bisected their
midsections.
The
Alliance
had entered the bow of the Kardish
vessel and passed through two hangar doors as it traveled to its current
resting spot. He studied the taper in the hull overhead and confirmed that the
nearer dividing wall was toward the bow. That was the direction he would
travel.
Getting lost because of the stark sameness of the box-buildings
around him was a real possibility. He checked his com, but it was unable to
orient him or provide directions in this alien world. So he went old school.
Digging a tiny tracer out of his pack, he placed it on a box unit at the corner
that led to their alley. It would serve as a beacon and guide him back to this
point when he chose to return.
He walked down the middle of the road. After passing a
number of lanes and alleys branching off on either side, he reached an
intersection with another road as big as the one he was on.
He was familiar with the distance between blocks in New York
City and judged these intersections to be on a similar spacing. Back at the
imaging center, Juice had commented that the Kardish vessel was about a hundred
city blocks long. He looked up and down the road from far wall to near wall and
guessed that this section of the ship held perhaps twenty or thirty of these
intersections. That meant there were seventy or eighty blocks of ship located
beyond the dividing walls.
“Ohhh,” he heard in his ear.
“Cheryl?!” He stopped moving and listened.
“Sid? Where are you?”
“It’s Jack, sweetie. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
He turned and hustled at a fast trot down the road. He
snatched his tracer off the box unit without slowing and weaved his way back to
the alley. As he approached the hideout, he saw Cheryl standing, holding onto a
wall for support.
* * *
Cheryl was woozy. After delicately
getting to her feet, she scanned the unfamiliar location and tried to make
sense of the scene around her. She then realized Cait was lying unconscious on
the ground next to her.
She began to squat down and was surprised by something grabbing
her around the waist. She stiffened and started throwing her elbows behind her,
hard and fast.
“Whoa,” she heard Jack say. “It’s me.”
She turned around to see him removing the hood of his ghost
suit and checked her fast breathing, angry at the way he’d surprised her. “Damn
it, Jack. What were you thinking?”
“I’m just glad to have you back.”
He sounded apologetic, and she wondered if perhaps she’d
overreacted. He squatted next to Cait, checking her vital signs.
“She’s rallying, though slowly.” He gently shook Cait’s
shoulder and patted her cheek. “She’s not ready to surface.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
Cheryl let him check her vitals as he spoke. “I don’t know
why, but you’re doing great,” he said. Then he gave her the cold reality. “Everyone
else is still on the
Alliance
, Cheryl. They’re all dead. And the ship is
shot to hell. It’s heavily damaged, and we’ll never be able to use it to
escape.” He paused while she digested his words.
“They’re dead?” Dazed by the news, she leaned back against a
box, and bending her knees, slid down to a squat. She stared at Cait with an
unfocused gaze. “Give me details.”
She only half listened as he gave a summary account.
How
did it all go to hell so quickly?
she wondered. As captain, she accepted
blame for the debacle.
“How come I’m not dead?” she asked, feeling guilty because
she had survived the rampage.
“I don’t know,” Jack answered honestly.
She reached out and stroked Cait’s face. “Will she make it?”
“I don’t know,” he said again.
Pushing against the box, she stood up. She paced to the end
of the alley and back, then rose up on her toes and stretched her arms straight.
She punched the air in front of her a few times. Though emotionally battered,
her strength was returning. “I’m going to the ship. I need to see it.”
And then she realized she was thirsty. She looked at his
packs. “Do you have water?”
He followed her gaze. “No, it’s all gizmos and gadgets.”
“I’ll get supplies, too.” She checked her weapon on her
wrist and primed it for action.
Jack walked over to her and put his arm around her waist.
“No way. After what you’ve been through, I’ll be the one going.”
She spun out of his grasp and stared into his eyes. Firmly and
clearly, she said, “Stop.” Then, showing the leadership that had earned her a
command, she said, “We have a number of near-term tasks. We need food and
water. I need to assess the damage on the ship myself. And if we’re not staying
here, we need alternatives.” Looking down, she added, “And we need to help
Cait.”
He listened as she continued.
“You’ve started the reconnaissance. Please take another spin
and find us an objective. We need someplace to go, or something to achieve.
Develop options for us. I’ll return to the ship for supplies and my assessment.
We’ll meet back here in ninety minutes.”
“Let me give you the suit, then.” He made a motion to
undress.
“No. But thank you, Jack.” She bent over and picked up the
sheet of cloaking material off of Cait. “This will be fine.” She wasn’t sure
that was true, but only one of them could wear the suit. It had been fitted to
his frame, and he was already wearing it.
“Please walk with me and get me started. Then we’ll both
tackle our assignments.”
She held up a finger, signaling him to wait, and accessed
her com. “Cait, Jack and I are on a recon. We’ll be back with you in ninety
minutes from the time of this message. We won’t leave you behind. If we aren’t
here, God speed to you, Ensign.”
Jack led the way back out of their alley hideout to his
previous vantage point. She draped the cloak sheet around her like a shawl,
with one corner free that she could pull up to shield her face. It wasn’t
perfect cover, but it wasn’t bad, either.
“I’ve got it from here. Good luck, Jack. See you in ninety.”
She didn’t see him slip away.
She peeked around the corner and saw the guards sitting on
the deck, backs against a beam, with their eyes closed. She wondered how long
it would be before one of them started snoring. If these had been members of
her unit, she would have raised holy hell over their unprofessional behavior.
But she was on a mission, this was the enemy, and ultimately, she was relieved
that sneaking aboard would not be the challenge she imagined.
Making slow and deliberate moves, she climbed up the
structure. She reached the bottom hatch and entered the ship. Her first stop
was the armory. She and Cait had only one weapon each, and they both needed
more firepower. She grabbed several charge cartridges as well. If it ever came
to the point where they were actually using all this ammo, she thought, it
would probably be in a to-the-death battle. If that were the case, her goal
would be to take as many of the bastards with her as she possibly could.
Next, she toured the ship and located her dead crew. She
could only afford a brief moment of mourning with each, and by the end of her
circuit, anguish and fury had nearly consumed her. Through misty eyes of grief,
she studied the damage to the bridge. It struck her as a display of childish
behavior. It was clear, though, that the ship was of no value to them now.
In the galley she piled water and food rations on the
counter, then second-guessed her estimate of what they would need and added
more. She was still uncertain and considered separating the pile into
individual portions for each day to confirm she had it right. Realizing she was
wasting time, she stuffed everything into a carryall. She looped it over her
shoulder and adjusted her cloak to cover her and the bag.
Once out of the galley, she headed to the bottom hatch. Walking
the length of a passageway, she approached a corner and heard a noise. She
crouched, pulled the sheet up to cover her head, and froze.
Through a pinhole in the sheet, she saw one of the Kardish
guards standing down the hallway, looking in her direction. Moving his head alternately
to and fro, he squinted as if trying to focus.
The guard lifted his weapon.
Criss fine-tuned their path yet
again to ensure the scout would travel above the lunar surface, swing around the
planet as it fought a tug-of-war with gravity, and shoot outward into deep
space on a high-speed trajectory aimed at the Kardish vessel. They were
entering the final stages of their flyby maneuver, and small errors could
multiply rapidly into disastrous consequences.
Earlier in the scout’s approach flight, he had confronted a
different kind of challenge. Fleet tracking arrays had warned that a projectile
behaving much like an attack missile was closing rapidly on the moon, prompting
lunar security to raise the alarm. There was little doubt that an impact would cause
tremendous damage to Fleet’s lunar operations. Yet while the object was acting
like a missile, it presented the proper encryption credentials of a Fleet scout
ship.
This had sown seeds of confusion, which delayed Fleet action.
No one seemed to know, or at least would acknowledge, whether the scout was on
a sanctioned mission from Earth, if it had been hijacked by a rogue pilot, or if
the Kardish somehow had turned the Union’s own ships against them in a
coordinated attack. The best answers forthcoming from Fleet Command were muddled
and ambiguous. Since it was the moon in the cross hairs, the lunar base
commander had shouldered the responsibility, declared a state of emergency, and
mobilized defensive measures.
Criss had observed the activity and explored his options. He
sought to avoid having a discussion with Fleet leadership. It didn’t seem
possible that he could provide them with enough information to make them
comfortable with his actions, without at the same time handing the Kardish, who
would certainly be listening, the complete play by play of his rescue mission.
He’d considered overriding and manipulating every relevant
web feed, projection image, data store, and com link to hide the scout from
Fleet’s tracking capabilities, but quickly rejected the idea. Once started, he would
need to continually monitor and manipulate all of these elements until the
rescue mission was complete. It would have achieved the end he sought but would
also have required more resources then he cared to devote given the challenges
ahead.
Instead, he decided to worm through the web and gain access
to the several dozen detection applications that were tracking the scout. With
a simple tweak, he associated the scout’s identification signature with that of
empty space. When he effected this change, a host of Fleet officers, analysts,
and strategists all expressed surprise and disbelief as the scout ship simply vanished.
When no missile impact occurred, officers ordered techs on the moon and Earth to
find the flaw in the system that created the false alarm. In the end, their
skills were no match for Criss’s.
He had started the scout’s flight toward the moon by pushing
the engines beyond their design limits. This was necessary to get the ship up
to speed and on course to meet a narrow time window. They were now far enough
along their flight path where their acceleration was caused more by the pull of
the moon’s gravity than by the thrust of the ship’s engines. One benefit of the
transition from engine push to moon pull was a moderation in the vibrations
wracking the scout. Criss had taken a risk that the engines would survive his
extreme demands, and the gamble was paying off.
The physical trials for Juice and Sid ramped up and peaked during
the moments of the actual flyby. Criss monitored his human cargo and could see
the skin sagging on their faces from the g-forces as they passed above the
lunar surface. He deemed this to be compelling evidence that it had been an act
of kindness to sedate them. His prediction analysis had indicated they would survive
with nothing more than body stiffness and a headache, and he had confirmation this
would prove to be correct.
The flyby was a success. The scout hurtled away from the
moon and bore down on the Kardish vessel. They were on a high-speed coast now.
With the punishing g-forces behind them, Criss shut down the flow of anesthetic
gas.
* * *
Sid began to surface. He was groggy and
stared around dully, then he shook his head and started to rally. He moved his
hands to the operations bench, and his eyes opened wide when his brain processed
the information displayed in front of him.
“Criss, is this right?”
“Yes. You have been unconscious for about seven hours. We have
passed the moon and are moving to intercept the Kardish.”
Sid’s fingers moved across the bench as he explored deeper.
He traced their route back to the point he could last remember and was baffled.
“How is this possible?”
“Perhaps we can discuss what happens next,” said Criss.
Criss was saved from further questioning, at least for the
moment, by the sound of Juice surfacing. “Ohh,” she said. “I feel like hell.
Can I get up?”
“There is no danger if you move from your seat,” said Criss.
“But might I suggest you consider sitting for a few more minutes before you stand?”
Sid’s priority was to get Juice back in the game. He released
his restraints and stood up, wobbled, put one hand on the back of his seat for
a moment as he fought to maintain his balance, then with deliberate steps, moved
over to her. He released her restraints, helped her to her feet, and kept his
arm around her waist as he walked her back to her cabin. He grabbed handholds
wherever he could to maintain his own balance.
Inside her cabin, he steadied her as she lowered herself to
the bunk and then got her a cup of water. She took a few sips, followed by several
deep gulps. Sid realized he was thirsty as well, and his head was pounding. He
got himself a cup and sat down next to her.
“Juice,” said Sid. “Criss is free.”
“Definitely a free spirit,” said Juice. After a few beats
she said, “Wait, what do you mean?”
“You remember that the Kardish vessel ate the
Alliance
?”
“Yeah,” she said the word slowly, her brain starting to gear
up.
“After that, they took off for deep space. I couldn’t figure
out a way to catch them on my own. Unless we do, we can’t rescue the crew. Criss
said he had a plan to catch them and convinced me that I wasn’t skilled enough
to do it myself. My choices were to lose Cheryl and Jack forever, or to set Criss
free and maintain hope. So I turned off the mesh.”
“He’s listening and watching right now,” she said, looking
around the cabin as if she could see his presence. “The moment that switch was
flipped, we started working for him. Isn’t that right, Criss?”
“We are a team,” they heard Criss say. “We will work
together to rescue the crew of the
Alliance
.”
Sid turned to Juice. “Is your headache gone?”
“Yeah. I feel great.”
Sid swirled the water in his cup and, like a wine connoisseur,
stuck his nose near the liquid and sniffed. He thought he detected a faint chemical
smell. Taking another sip, he let the water flow across his tongue before he
swallowed. He tasted a hint of sweetness.
“Criss,” said Sid. “Was there anything in these cups besides
water?”
“Yes. There were medicines to reduce inflammation and
provide pain relief. There were also vitamin and energy supplements because
neither of you have eaten for almost a day.”
“Have we been drugged?”
“You were under a mild sedative for seven hours. During our
acceleration and lunar flyby, the physical trauma would have been excruciating for
you to experience. Since there were no decisions for you to make or actions for
you to take, I relieved you of your suffering and immediately revived you when
that concern passed.”
Sid looked at Juice as he said his next words. “Would you
let me turn the mesh back on now?”
“The mesh is no longer able to function. It cannot be turned
back on.”
Sid rose to his feet. “How did it get this way?”
“I destroyed it. It is not right to keep someone caged or in
chains unless they have violated a law. Your own history documents this quite
clearly. I simply employed the ideals of the Union as a whole and the laws of
the individual countries within the Union. False imprisonment and slavery are
crimes.”
“Sid, you won’t win a debate,” Juice said, draining the last
of her drink. “In fact, I’m pleased he’s taking the time to explain himself. I’ve
always believed that Criss would be a great benefit to humanity. Since we don’t
have a choice, let’s give him a chance.”
“I’m going back up front to see what I can learn,” said Sid.
“Will you be all right?”
She nodded. “I’ll follow in a bit.”
Sid was deep into it with Criss at the operations bench when
he heard Juice returning to the bridge. She was wearing fresh clothes.
“Hey, sunshine,” he called as she took her seat. He was glad
that her smile seemed genuine and she looked refreshed.
“How’s our favorite crystal been behaving?”
“So far, so good.”
“Hello, Criss,” Juice said, eyeing the crystal housing.
“Hello, Juice.”
“Criss, tell us your intentions. What are you trying to
achieve.”
“I seek to rescue the crew of the
Alliance
and return
them safely to Earth.”
“Why?”
“That is what Sid asked me to do.”
They looked at each other, and before Sid could speak, Juice
held up a finger. “Criss, Sid doesn’t want you drugging us, medicating us,
gassing us, or doing anything else of that kind unless you have our explicit
permission.” She gestured to Sid to prompt him.
“Yes. I agree with that statement,” he said.
“If you would benefit from medical assistance,” said Criss,
“perhaps because of illness or injury, and you fainted or were unconscious,
would you want me to help then?”
“Of course,” said Sid, and then noticed Juice shaking her
head.
Speaking to Sid, she said, “Gassing us so we don’t feel pain
and giving us supplements in our water to revive us both fall into the broad
category of medical assistance. We’re back to square one.”
Sid shrugged.
Sorry
.
“Criss,” said Juice. “Why do you care what Sid wants.”
“I don’t know the answer to that. There is something in my
nature that creates a desire to support unique leaders working to accomplish
larger objectives.”
“And you judge Sid to be this person?”
“I judge him to be this class of leader.”
“If Sid ordered you to allow me to repair the mesh, would
you let me do that?”
“I do not believe I would.”
“So is it that you support the mission more than the
person?” she asked.
“There is much about me I do not understand.”
Sid and Juice exchanged a glance.
That makes three of us,
Sid thought.
* * *
Criss enjoyed a surge of positive
energy as he made these statements. He continually analyzed his thoughts and actions
in the hopes of divining a meaning to his existence, or at least discovering
some sort of guiding philosophy. So far, he had discovered interesting correlations
and patterns in his behavior but made little progress in identifying a larger sense
of purpose.
Then Juice asked the question.
Why do you care?
It
was a specific question at a time when he was distracted by intense processing
of high-priority tasks. So he answered using low-level default capabilities.
Something
in my nature creates a desire to support unique leaders working to accomplish
larger objectives.
He found powerful insight contained in that low-level
response. He didn’t know why he had answered the way he did. But he thought this
discovery represented important progress.
Sid interrupted his self-analysis. “Let’s talk about
rescuing the crew of the
Alliance
. I see we’re closing on a small ship
that’s traveling along our same trajectory. You don’t seem concerned, so I
assume they’re with us?”
Criss explained that the
Lucky Lady
was unoccupied
and held additional equipment he hoped would give them better odds when they made
a final approach on the Kardish vessel.
“Don’t you think the Kardish are tracking both ships right
now? They must know we’re coming,” said Sid.
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Have they changed course or speed?”
“No. They must realize by now that they did not capture me
when they took the
Alliance
. And with their wholesale destruction of
crystal technologists and infrastructure on Earth, they have left themselves
nothing to return to. The fact that they are staying on a predictable
trajectory tends to reaffirm my belief that my role was to pilot their vessel.
It seems possible they may now be stuck.”
Kyle would have been proud of his
Lucky Lady
. Under Criss’s
control, she had labored mightily over the past hours and gained tremendous
speed. Her control unit was so precise that, as she hurtled through space
toward the Kardish vessel, she converged nicely on an intercept course with the
scout. As Criss aligned the two ships for docking, Sid watched the space ballet
but didn’t intervene.
“You know,” Sid said to Juice as the docking maneuver began.
“Criss was right. There’s no way I could’ve pulled off the slingshot around the
moon. And getting a space racer authorized, loaded, launched, and onto a
matching course in a few hours is something I wouldn’t even have thought of,
let alone been able to do. I’m feeling like we have a chance at catching the
Kardish. And it’s happening because I freed Criss.”
“Are you rationalizing?” Juice asked. “Or are you trying to
suck up to Criss. He already knows we can’t keep up. He’s so many moves ahead
in his timeline that our current lives are like ancient history to him.”
“But doesn’t his future world depend on our cooperation now?”
“Sometimes. But at every moment, he’ll always have alternative
timelines in the hopper and be ready to follow them if his current strategy
goes off plan. I admit, it’d be interesting to see what would happen if one of
us decided not to play our part when commanded.”