Authors: Gary Gibson
What are you talking about?
The pattern of light representing Bash shifted and flowed.
The
Ingersoll
’s pilot is a man called Bill Szymurski
, he explained.
When Megan and I last visited the
Wanderer, all those years ago, it learned a lot about how our machine-head implants work. Because of that, it was able to get inside Szymurski’s head pretty much the instant the
Ingersoll
jumped into this system. He’s been compromised almost from the start.
After a pause to let that sink in, Bash continued.
And that means the Wanderer has already got effective control of the
Ingersoll
. Tarrant and the rest of his cronies have
absolutely no idea just how utterly fucked they really are.
So what do we do?
she asked, horrified.
The only way now to stop the Wanderer, before it’s too late, is by destroying this whole damn system.
But I’m still stuck here in this cabin
.
I can get you out of there
, said Bash.
But after that the rest is up to you. You need to find some way to launch the
Ingersoll’s
nova mine into the sun. Then, even if
we can’t kill the Wanderer outright, we can at least stop it from stealing the nova drive and sterilizing the whole damn galaxy of every last trace of life.
Gabrielle came to with a start and realized that hours had passed. Bash still knelt by her bunk, but the intelligence had once more faded from his eyes. Instead he stared, calm
and unseeing, at a bulkhead.
She glanced over at the cabin door and saw with a surprise that its light was glowing a dull green, meaning it was unlocked.
Her gaze returned to Bash.
He did this
, she thought.
Then she stepped over to the door, hardly able to believe anything would happen, and watched in numbed silence as it hissed softly open.
Standing on the threshold, she tried to think of what she needed to do next. She now understood that it wasn’t the
Ingersoll
’s shielding, or even her inhibitor, that kept
her safe from the Wanderer; for both she and Megan were, in essence, part-Magi – and that was all the protection they needed.
The same, however, couldn’t be said either for the
Ingersoll
’s pilot, Szymurski, or for the rest of the ship with the useless shielding built into its hull.
Gabrielle decided to head for the command deck. If she was going to find the trigger code for the nova mine anywhere, it would most likely be there.
She closed the door again, and spent the next several minutes coaxing Bash into his clothes. Then she retrieved her homemade blade, winding the same piece of cloth from under her mattress around
the blunt end and tying a knot to secure it. Finally she pushed it through a belt loop, where she could feel it pressing against the small of her back.
One glance at Bash told her she couldn’t possibly take him to the command deck with her. Manoeuvring him in normal gravity was one thing, but now they were in orbit, the
Ingersoll
was operating in zero gravity. Getting him all the way across the ship would be excessively difficult, unless he decided to come back to life again of his own accord.
She stared at him and waited for some small sign, some flicker of awareness as before. Of course, there was none.
‘I’ll be right back before you know it,’ she explained, kneeling beside him, then stepped back over to the door and palmed it open.
The empty corridor beyond beckoned. Playing around with the ship’s data-net, even under restrictions, had already given her a pretty good idea of the
Ingersoll
’s layout.
Halfway to the nearest drop shaft, she ran into a crew member, who came to an astonished halt. He was one of the guards who usually escorted her to and from the bridging suite, and she therefore
knew his name was Travis.
‘What the hell?’ he barked. ‘How did you get out of your cabin?’
She swallowed hard and decided to try and brazen it out. ‘I need to find Mr Schelling,’ she replied, trying to sound more confident than she felt. ‘It’s
urgent.’
‘First you’re going to get the hell back to your cabin,’ he demanded. ‘Then you’re going to tell me how you managed to override the lock.’
She didn’t move. ‘I’m serious,’ she said. ‘You need to warn them that the
Ingersoll
isn’t under their command any more.’
Travis’s expression grew incredulous. ‘I don’t have time for this.’ He moved closer, his boots making a ripping sound as he headed across the strip of sticktite that ran
the length of the passageway. ‘Turn around
now
,’ he barked, reaching for his gun.
As he grabbed hold of her around the waist, Gabrielle pulled her homemade shank loose from the belt loop and drew it swiftly across Travis’s cheek.
He yelled in surprise; the wound it left was deep and raw. His pistol spun away from him, clunking loudly against a bulkhead. She threw herself away from him, chasing after the gun and grabbing
hold of it.
She twisted round, bringing it to bear on Travis just as he came sailing towards her, with hands outstretched.
The gun seared a line across the man’s chest. He jerked, his arms and legs flailing, and smoke started billowing out of his mouth as his internal organs combusted.
Travis drifted up against a bulkhead, his limbs still and lifeless. Gabrielle exhaled a rush of air ending in a half-choked sob.
Pushing herself as far away from the corpse as she could manage, she stared at the weapon still gripped in one shaking hand. It felt strangely unwieldy, its grip being too large for her small
fingers. She shifted her fingers to cover the coloured band wrapped around the weapon’s grip, whereupon several virtual menus immediately appeared around the gun’s barrel.
She let out a small gasp as the weapon’s grip began pulsing and quivering beneath her fingers. It gradually changed shape, and even size, adapting itself to her grasp until it felt better
balanced in her hands. Where before it had felt awkward and unwieldy, the weapon now felt as if it had been made just for her.
She pointed it towards a ceiling light further down the corridor. Lines and numbers appeared around the tip of the barrel, flashing with greater rapidity as she centred them over the fixture.
Then she pushed the weapon deep into a jacket pocket, and made her way towards the drop shaft and the command deck beyond.
A few minutes later, she found herself outside the command deck. Footsteps echoed from further around the curve of the corridor, coming closer.
She looked round until she saw a door marked SUPPLIES on the opposite side of the corridor; she slipped inside, peering back through the small window set into it in time to see a man with
cropped blond hair entering the command deck. In the moment before the door closed again, she caught a glimpse of Tarrant.
Deciding she needed to try and talk to Megan, if she could, she found her access to the transceiver array was still active. She sent out a hailing signal and waited.
She didn’t know how long she might have before Szymurski noticed her using the transceiver, assuming there was anything human left inside his skull that was still capable of noticing . .
.
<. . . Gabrielle? My God, it is you, isn’t it? Listen to me – the
Ingersoll
is under attack, and—>
sent Gabrielle.
’s pilot has been compromised by the Wanderer, and nobody on board knows about it except me. The only way we can stop the Wanderer
getting what it wants is by triggering the nova mine and destroying this entire system.>
<
Trigger
it?> sent Megan.
Gabrielle sighed. Clearly she was going to have to explain things, even though there really wasn’t enough time.
,> shouted Megan.
?>
Gabrielle then told her everything she knew about the Wanderer’s ultimate purpose, as well as explaining further about Szymurski, the
Ingersoll
’s pilot.
Ingersoll
in about another twenty minutes. Some of its
components are already in place, and it looks as if they’re preparing to open up the hull so it can dig out the
Ingersoll
’s drive. Whatever happens, Gabrielle, you need to get
yourself and Bash the hell out of . . .>
Megan’s voice faded until Gabrielle could hear nothing more than the ship’s normal background hum. In the next moment, her net access failed abruptly.
She blinked, looking around the dusty supplies room, and guessed that Szymurski – or, rather, the thing controlling him – had finally cottoned on to her presence.
Ignoring the sudden clutch of fear in her belly, she slid the pistol back out of her pocket, wrapping her fingers around the grip. She was really on her own now.
Stepping back out of the supplies cabin she headed across the corridor towards the entrance to the command deck, taking a firm two-handed grip on the gun, exactly as she had seen Tarrant do on
numerous occasions.
She touched the door panel with her elbow, then stepped through just as it slid open.
Sifra was inside, along with Tarrant, and also two others manning consoles whom she didn’t recognize, but one was the blond-haired man she’d spotted earlier.
She took a quick glance past them towards the astrogation chair, and saw its petals were still folded up, concealing Szymurski from view.
All four of them froze on the spot as she trained the gun on each of them in turn, from her position by the door. She was conscious of breathing hard, her hands shaking with sheer terror and
adrenalin.
‘Gabrielle.’ Tarrant spoke slowly and carefully, ‘I’d like you to put that thing down before you hurt yourself.’
‘I told you we should just have shoved her in a medbox,’ muttered Sifra. He stood up with his hands still hovering over a console.
‘Manning,’ said Tarrant, ‘go over and take that gun away from her.’
With a nod, the blond-haired man stepped away from his console and began moving towards her.
Adjusting her grip on her weapon, she backed away. Then she squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened.
Sifra snorted with laughter. ‘She’s got no idea how to even use the thing. I swear, Gregor, I—’
She squeezed again, paying more attention to the gun’s control interfaces this time.
There was a bright flash accompanied by a hissing sound. Manning stumbled to his knees, one hand clasping his shoulder, his face white and his teeth clenched.
‘God damn it, Gabrielle,’ Tarrant shouted, ‘what the
hell
do you think you’re playing at?’
‘Don’t come any closer,’ she said. ‘I mean it.’
‘She hasn’t got it in her,’ sneered Sifra.
‘Go and ask Travis that question,’ she said quietly.
Tarrant looked towards the remaining crew member. ‘Rohloff, go and help Manning to the medbay. Myself and Mr Sifra will handle things here.’
Rohloff helped Manning upright, before leading him out of the command deck.
‘Perhaps I underestimated you,’ began Tarrant, as the door closed behind her.
‘The Wanderer,’ she said, ‘has launched an attack on us.’
Tarrant frowned, before glancing towards a display. ‘There’s no sign of it attacking anything,’ he said. ‘As far as I can tell, it’s in orbit exactly where we last
saw it.’
‘As far as you can tell,’ she repeated, nodding towards the astrogation chair. ‘Just ask Szymurski,’ she said. ‘Ask
him
if we’re under
attack.’
Tarrant’s mask of outward calm began to slip. ‘Gabrielle, nothing you’re saying makes the least damn bit of sense.’
‘He’s dead,’ she snapped. ‘He’s been dead almost since the moment we entered this system.’
Tarrant’s face darkened. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Szymurski – or what used to be Szymurski – has been altering the external sensor feeds to keep you from finding out about the attack until it’s too late.’
‘And you know this how?’
‘Bash isn’t as brain-dead as you think. He knows more than you could possibly guess, such as the fact that the Wanderer’s already started digging through the
Ingersoll
’s hull, to get at its nova drive. So, unless you take action right now, we’re all dead.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ said Sifra flatly. He reached into a pocket, retrieving his gloves without once taking his eyes off her.
‘No, wait a second,’ said Tarrant, stepping closer to the display he had been studying moments before. He activated a virtual panel, his hands moving through the projected light.
‘There’s something not right here.’
‘What?’ asked Sifra.
He looked back at Sifra, shock evident in his gaze. ‘The external feeds – they’ve been running on a repeating loop for the past hour!’
‘While you’re at it,’ said Gabrielle, ‘maybe you should ask Szymurski to come out of his chair.’
Tarrant glared at her, before touching another panel. ‘Szymurski, you there?’