Jupiter Fleet 1: Werewolves Don't Purr (17 page)

After that, the Supes succeeded in placing nine or ten auto-cannons, set up very quickly, in the three hallways. They must have been coordinating their actions. Anything that moved in any of the three hallways ended up getting fried by a laser beam.

Corporal Meighen, formerly of the Second Battalion, PPCLI, in Winnipeg, Canada, was able to aim and fire a .95-caliber rifle at one of the auto-cannons, which exploded. Unfortunately, as he fired his second round at the laser-cannon, he was hit by a beam and killed. However, his group sent runners to the other two corridors to yell about the tactic to the other fighters, and that rallied the troops. They all started firing at the cannons. Within seconds, under a massive hail of heavy rounds, the cannons fell in all three corridors.

The thirty-man teams equipped with .45-caliber pistols then charged the positions held by the Supes. The Supes were hiding around the corners from where they had placed the laser auto-cannons. When they got to the corners where the Supes were hiding, the men started firing around them, with the barrels of their weapons poking out, using the corners as cover. Some of the fighters used ricochets to their advantage by bouncing rounds off the walls behind where the Supes were hiding. Many of those rounds actually hit their targets. It was a short but intense firefight. The humans took the positions they had won from the Supes, and were able to finish sweeping Deck Three shortly after that.

The most damage, proportionately, was done to the werewolf group. The commandos lost fourteen of their thirty-two COBRA and reclaimed wolves, and there were forty-five human casualties. Commander Gupta reported this to Leona, including the deaths in action of Constables Saxena and Mistry. With his clipped Indian delivery, his report seemed very dispassionate—until she saw the sadness in his eyes.

She decided to contact the Alpha wolf. She went over to a communications console nearby and signaled to him.

“Alpha, we have lost a number of our werewolves in a firefight. Can you send some to us as reinforcements?”

“I will send you thirty wolves to assist,” the Alpha replied. “We have taken Deck Four and are moving on to Deck Five.”

The Alpha broke communication with Leona and then turned to one of his wolves.

“Yellow Fang, take thirty wolves with you and go help the humans. They have just taken Deck Three. Also, you might have to do this.”

The Alpha wolf telepathically showed Yellow Fang what Leona had shared with him. It was an image of a werewolf purring while a little girl patted his head.

“I’m not doing that,” Yellow Fang replied, baring his fangs.

The Alpha shrugged. “You can do that, or you can get shot by the humans. I guess that’s your choice.”

CHAPTER 6

Onward and Upward

November 12, 2038, 11:00 a.m.

On Board Alien Ship

For the Alpha, the hardest thing about the task was not taking Deck Four, it was leaving it. Deck Four was the same size as Deck Three, one kilometer long by half a kilometer wide. It was filled with shops and, most importantly, restaurants. Most of the wolves had been in captivity in the Alpha’s cell for the last six months. None of them had ever been permitted on Deck Four before that day.

While all the Masters had fled the deck, the humans and other sentient life forms were currently hiding in the stores and restaurants where they lived and worked. The Alpha told his troops not to harm any of the humans. As a result, the human slaves were extremely happy about being left alive and being freed by the wolves, and were more than willing to serve the werewolves lots of food.

The open area in the center of the mall where the battle had taken place was cleaned up at a rapid pace by both cleaning staff and robots. In less than an hour, the blood and fur were gone from the floor. The only thing that looked out of place was at the end of the mall, where gravity had not been restored. There was still a myriad of doughnuts floating in the null gravity, in a cloud of swirling color, which some wolves were playing with. They had made a game of trying to launch from the floor outside the zero-gravity zone, and grabbing the doughnuts with only their teeth.

The group of rust-red-furred werewolves playing the game were starting from a standing position, with their upper limbs down at their sides. Then they (each in turn, with minimal snarling or jostling) leaped like furry missiles into the floating cloud of pastries. Turning their heads from side to side and snapping their jaws, they were usually successful in grabbing a colorfully decorated doughnut out of the cloud before caroming off the bulkhead at its far side. The grinning werewolf then made his way to the point of entry, where he suddenly dropped into the normal gravity zone and could gobble his tasty prize.

The Alpha wolf watched the fun out of the corner of his eye and then turned away. As a younger wolf, he could have joined in the game, but at the age of seven hundred plus ship years, and with his accumulated rank, it was not a pastime that he could be part of without a loss of dignity. Still, he suffered a pang of envy, and his ears tracked the yips and barks of the happy doughnut seekers briefly.

The Alpha had found a store in the center of the mall that sold a variety of human weapons. The weapons that most caught his eye were the swords. There was a small black-haired man in the store that was an expert with them. He exhibited what he described as a
samurai
sword, or
kitana
.

The Alpha wolf discovered that his old Master had commissioned this man to make a sword for him before he was killed. The Alpha growled that
his
werewolves were rebelling against the Masters. The small human showed him not only a beautiful twelve-foot sword, but also a smaller seven-foot companion sword. He gave the swords to the Alpha, who was extremely happy with his new toys.

The man also showed the Alpha a variety of throwing axes and large throwing knives, complete with belts designed for werewolves that would hold a multitude of these weapons. The Alpha took six of the belts and as many of the axes and knives as would fit. He had so many handles of weapons sticking out of scabbards that he looked like a large, extremely lethal porcupine.

The sword-maker was plainly no ordinary slave—still in possession of all his memories and skilled knowledge. When the human bowed ceremonially to the huge Alpha, the startled werewolf leader bowed in return. The Alpha was not able to interpret the stern facial expression on the human’s face.

The sword-master’s name was Isamu, and he said he came from a place on the planet Earth called Japan, or Nihon. The Alpha wolf didn’t understand why a place would have more than one name, but the expert slave just let the subject go rather than lecture a six-meter-tall werewolf about Earth languages and international trade.

The Alpha walked out of the shop into the main area as five hundred werewolves came pouring down three of the staircases and started filling the open area. The Alpha stood there facing these stranger werewolves, and they looked around at all the other werewolves that were eating in the various restaurants. As they stood there, they started smelling the wonderful smells coming out of the food court. The Alpha saw a lot of sniffing noses, so he addressed the group forcefully.

“Did you come here to fight, or would you rather have good food and join us?” he thought to them.

The Alpha’s telepathic strength made the mild question seem like a warm summer gale in their faces.

The wolves stood there, obviously agitated, tails wagging furiously with indecision. The Alpha felt them being pushed by a hidden Master. He focused on trying to find him, then realized it was not
him
but
them
. Standing on the fourth stairwell—the one the werewolves were not using—were four Masters projecting an image that they were part of the stairs.

The Alpha started throwing his knives quickly. The first one struck a Master in the head, instantly killing him. The next two missed altogether and clattered down the stairs. The Alpha wolf thought he would try his throwing axes next. The first one hit its target. However, by the time he had the other axes in his paws, the Masters had disappeared up the stairs.

The crowd of newly arrived werewolves looked at the bodies of the dead Masters with consternation. Some faint yipping was heard. The Alpha wolf turned back to them.

“Now what is your decision?”

There was no hesitation from the werewolves. They broke formation and headed in every direction toward the restaurants.

The Alpha decided to get some food for himself. He went to the nearest restaurant—one that had wonderful-smelling charred meat. When he walked in, the wolf at the head of the line offered his food. The Alpha accepted the gesture, and gave the wolf a cuff of thanks. The wolf looked at all his friends with a grin on his face, as if to brag, “Alpha took
mine
!”

Just as the Alpha wolf was starting to chew the food, Leona contacted him through the ship’s system.

“Alpha, do you have time to talk?”

“Yes, just having some food.”

He projected a picture of the food so that she could see it. One of the advantages of being a telepath was the ability to share images. Another was that it was possible to talk and chew at the same time.

“Smells good. This is amazing. I wish I was having some! Anyway, I’m wondering when you’re going to assault Deck Five.”

“I am not,” replied the Alpha, sending the taste of the food to Leona just to bother her. “If we attack one deck at a time, it will be too simple for the Ship Master to cut us off and blow the air out of the decks we capture. The fact that he does not know the fate of his cousins is all that is keeping us alive now. If he thinks the ship is lost, he will not hesitate to space us.”

“So what are you going to do?” asked Leona.

“I am going to take the fight to him. After my wolves have had their food, we are going straight up to the Command Deck,” thought the Alpha.

“The elevators will not take you to the Command Deck,” said Leona.

“Who said anything about elevators?” replied the Alpha wolf.

“But”—Leona drew in a breath—“that is seventy-five decks above you. Even
you
would be exhausted going up seventy-five decks on stairs!”

“Who said anything about stairs?”

Leona stood by the elevators beside Commander Gupta. They had been waiting for five minutes, five very long minutes, on Deck Nine. Leona, along with fifteen wolves and fifteen humans, had traveled up on the first pair of elevators.

“What is taking so
long
?”

Commander Gupta snapped his rusty-furred tail back and forth. “I do not know. Leona, I must renew my objection to your coming along on this mission. If something has happened to Ashley, you are the only one who can translate communications between werewolves and humans.”

“That’s the reason I
am
here. Until we find some combat-trained people who can liaise between wolves and humans, I’m
it
.”

Commander Gupta just growled in response.

“Speaking of communicating, let’s access a ship’s terminal and find out why our second team isn’t here.”

The commander signaled two of his wolves to move forward to the first empty room. They double-checked to make sure there wasn’t a trap by physically touching each of the walls to be certain a Supe was not hiding within a projection.

“Let’s move. The cabin—room—is empty and it has a terminal.”

Leona entered the room and accessed the communications terminal.

“Arjun, what is going on? Why aren’t you here?”

“The elevators have stopped working,” came the reply. “I guess they got around to locking out our level.”

“
That’s
bad. Make sure that everyone is in an airtight room in case they vent the atmosphere.”

“Already done. Except for the teams guarding the stairwells on Deck Four and elevators on Decks Four and Five, everyone is in an airtight area.”

Leona turned to the COBRA commander and rubbed her forehead. She shared the situation with him. Gupta put his ears back and bared his fangs.

“We are on our own. Let’s make our way to the lab as fast as possible.”

It was only thirty yards to the hallway that the conversion lab was on, but it felt a lot longer. Leona felt like every breath might be her last. She noticed that she was gulping air and holding each lungful as long as possible. A pain stabbed her forehead and she told herself that it was stress, just stress, not decompression.

As soon as they turned the corner to the erstwhile conversion lab, Leona’s heart seemed to stop. There were several dead werewolves and two dead Supes lying in the hallway. The door to the lab was blackened and bent.

However, when she looked closely at the door, she saw that the door panel had been patched from the inside. Leona breathed out—she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath. She sighed, bringing more air into her lungs.

Trading glances with Gupta, Leona decided to take a chance, and after checking to see that the commander had placed scouts in either direction, she knocked on the door. Her knock pattern was the old “shave and a haircut, two bits.” She doubted that any aliens would know about that old tradition.