Authors: R. J. Weinkam
Tags: #science fiction, #alien life, #alien abduction, #y, #future societies, #space saga, #interstellar space travel
Zep reached out to help Pok get
free. Til had tied herself and her cart to the platform. She was
held fast and looked across the floor as the weightless
construction materials broke free of the lift and continued to
crash around. Slowly the debris settled as they became stuck in
some corner or moved out into the void. Til kept hold of her cart
and pushed clear of the wreckage. The floor was not as smooth as it
looked from a distance. It was lined with rails and studded with
hold-downs of all sizes. She could move along quite well as her
agile feet found plenty to gasp. The lift sat oddly upside down
just above the floor, the megabot still tangled in the net. Zep
climbed back into the crushed cabin, reversed the lift, and jumped
away. It only went as far as the next cutout pinching the net and
entrapped megabot against the edge of the platform. The bot
struggled to rip free of the net, but could not get the leverage it
needed. It finally shut itself down and waited to be cut
loose.
Til held the cart with one hand
and pulled it and herself along. She could handle it if she moved
slowly. Two lights came loose and floated away, they were broken
anyway. Pok and Zep struggled with the debris and their injuries.
They needed to find some way to get through to the other side of
the hub and the habitat module.
The terminal floor held a number
of small buildings filled with tools, spare parts, and some spare
equipment. Til was puzzled by the immense strength of the hub and
the thick flanges that were attached to the supporting cables. It
was as if they were made to hold the entire world, but why? For the
moment they were clear of the megabots, although you could hear one
climbing down through the platforms, but another problem was
forming up near the bridge portal. A group of midsize spider bots,
each larger and stronger than they had ever seen, was massing at
the far end of the hub. They would be trapped where they were if
they did not move quickly.
Til led the way toward the cables,
there was an opening, but she did not have time to look through.
Zep was hurting. Her leg pained her more than it should. She was
becoming distracted. Til tied the cart to the wall to keep LaPan
from floating away and helped Pok wedge a wall panel between two
flat cars. It would provide some shelter if they needed
it.
Trouble arrived from above or
below. The Cathians were still disoriented as to which way was up
in that rotating, weightless sphere. The first megabot, the dirty
reddish brown one, had floated to the very top of the hub and,
rather than begin the long slow climb back down, it launched itself
in a slow glide toward the terminal floor. It landed near the
resting rail cars, almost bounced away again, but caught a
hold-down. It now stood between the Cathians and the shuttle tubes
and seemed to be resetting itself.
A pack of spider bots started
crossing the deck as a group. They were sturdy construction
machines, not the flimsy things the Cathians had smashed up in the
anti-module. The spider bots struggled to carry two large, awkward
laser welders. These were not meant to be portable machines and had
no convenient handles, but they were powerful devices that could
cut through anything on the ship. The spider bots passed between
the legs of the megabot and faced the aliens. Suddenly the spider
bots froze in place, as only machines can do. A clicking sound grew
louder and faster, becoming almost a buzz that seemed to move back
and forth through the room.
The broken lift truck looked as if
it had come alive. A brown mass covered its edge and began to flow
off the downturned platform onto the floor. Dozens of Sticks, the
whole tribe, had attached themselves to the bottom of the platform.
They must have gone there while LePan was being captured. Now they
were moving as a mass onto the hub floor, pressed close to one
another, forming up in rows. A few ran around and gathered up bits
of junk and broken tubing, whatever floated by, and distributed it
among the ranks. The clicking buzz maintained constant
communication between the Sticks as they moved quickly and easily
across the weightless hub. Their tentacle-like fingers found good
purchase on the floors and walls.
The Sticks split ranks in a
well-coordinated maneuver that sent out a screen to hold off the
spider bots and streams that headed toward and over the megabot.
They appeared frail and helpless as they climbed onto the powerful
machine and clustered around its joints and tubes. The big bot
tried to knock them away, scratching and scraping with their
jointed limbs. The Sticks tried to keep away from exposed areas as
they wedged bits of metal into moving joints and hacked away at the
soft tubes and connecting cables. Gradually, the tiny Sticks won
out and the megabot slowed, one leg after another, immobilized,
while its arms and massive clamps waved around helplessly. The deck
was littered with broken Sticks.
The much smaller and lighter
Sticks had found a way to overcome the megabot, but the spider bots
and their laser tools proved to be too lethal. The spiders
clustered around the lasers to focus their aim on the clicking
Stick people. The lasers went on with a crack, shooting beams of
white light across the hub. The intense beams wavered around until
they found their target. The beams cut through the Sticks’ long
thin legs at the instant of contact, snapping with a sickening pop.
The wavering beams were too fast to avoid. The few remaining Sticks
scattered. Individuals panicked, insecure when separated from the
group. The surviving Sticks joined the Cathians in their makeshift
shelter, as the spider bots marched past the crippled megabot as
the big machines began scraping along with one leg and two arms.
Slow, but fast enough.
The Cathians tried to beat off the
spiders with their long poles, but it was hard for them to gain
leverage in the weightless environment. Pok had some success, but
she only succeeded in becoming a target as a laser stitched welts
across her neck. The scrabbling megabot moved ever closer to the
railcars. Worse, the green megabot was being cut loose from the
netting by a swarm of spiders and would soon come rumbling across
the deck.
The Cathians had to move quickly.
Their meager shelter would not stand a moment once a megabot got
there. They had no good options. Til pulled the cart to the edge of
the wide opening that led into the habitat side of the hub. She
shoved it through. Til, Pot, Zep, and the Sticks all followed. They
were able to grab onto the service pipes and pull themselves toward
the Filim arm bulkhead. For some reason the bulkhead door had been
left open, the long conduit leading toward the habitat module
offered an inviting escape, but Pok and Zep were hurt. Til held
onto the bulkhead frame and was able to grab Zep before she went
through the opening. All but two Sticks gathered there. Pok thought
the shuttle tubes might have better air or at least be warmer than
the conduit, but there was no visible way to get into them. They
each took a fresh air tank from the cart.
The megabots did not bother to go
after the aliens, but the spider bots climbed into the platform
girders and maneuvered their lasers into place. The things cracked
on and the ominous sound echoed across the hub. White beams raced
across the bulkhead as the spiders sought to steady their aim. Two
more Sticks were hit and pieces floated off. Pok was zapped again,
this time the distance was too great. The burns were painful, not
severe, but they were completely exposed on the bulkhead surface.
There was no place to hide, no place but the open gap into the long
conduit.
It was all too clear that their
captive, LaPan, was no bargaining chip. Its fellow ObLaDas had no
apparent interest in its fate. Til set about cutting LePan loose.
She was of no value and deserved a chance to look out for herself.
She was conscious now and seemed to know what was happening. The
Sticks may have had some other ideas.
Working their way through the long
conduit to the Filim module would be difficult for the Cathians,
they were all injured, already tired, and it was doubtful that
their air would last, but it was their only chance. Til hoped that
the Sticks might be able to make it, as she pushed off the barrier
into the long wide tube. All followed except LePan, but the Sticks
did not intend to leave her alone and pulled her into the conduit
where she drifted slowly along. The Filim arm was rotating at full
speed and the forces of that motion would increase as the aliens
went further through its length. For now, they were doing well. The
cables and other pipes and wires gave them something to grab from
time to time to adjust their fall, which always tended to bash them
against the wall, but for now they were not falling too fast to
worry about. They might make it if they could glide far
enough.
It was cold. There was some light
farther down the tube. In fact there was a ring of bright lights up
ahead. It was a guide as they groped their way through the dark
tube. Zep particularly thought it was a welcome sign. She was
having problems with the pain from her wound and a burning
sensation on her feet. It was hard for her to focus. She wanted to
be in a warm place and rest, and dreamt of being there. Pok was
more alert even as she needed to struggle to move. Her cuts and
burns hurt more than they ever had and her side had stiffened. She
was not so sure about those lights and peered ahead as closely as
she could.
The lights were being held by
spider bots that ringed the conduit’s perimeter. Some held flybots.
The flybots could not maneuver in the thin air and had trouble when
weightless, so they were being carried, their darts ready and
pointed into the chamber. Pok would have given the alarm, called
out a warning, but to what purpose? Most of the aliens were
floating through the open space in the conduit and could not stop
themselves. Perhaps a few Sticks might catch something, but
everyone else would move slowly through the ring of lights. It
would not be long now; it was not far. Zep did not seem to be aware
of what was about to happen, that was all right. Til saw them and
looked at Pok, she shrugged. She knew what that meant. The darts
hit her side, she did not know how many, enough. Suddenly numbed,
it was a pleasant feeling. She relaxed; this was not so bad. She
felt as though she could float through space forever.
Buth NuTet was terribly upset and
most of the ObLaDas shared his rage. Not only had LePan LuKut been
killed, but also two alien species had actually attacked the
Outward Voyager. This was unprecedented and even more horrifying
because it was unexpected. In the clutches of the hysteria that
followed the conflict and LePan’s death, all the ObLaDas shared the
outrage and the decisions that followed. They had followed a
rational if cruel course, or so they thought at the time, but it
did not have a rational outcome.
Afterward, after the anger
settled, after their hormones had adjusted to what had happened,
all changed. The ObLaDas were stunned, shocked, and deeply saddened
by what they had done. The crew fell ill. What had they become?
Immobilized by the betrayal of their hopes, they grew determined to
reclaim themselves. It was a turning point of some consequence. The
leadership would be changed. New individuals selected, cloned, and
raised to establish an improved crew. Habitats would be renovated
to provide a sustainable environment for their aliens. New species
would be adequately studied and encouraged to reach their full
potential. It would take many years to put all of these changes in
place, but the ObLaDas were determined to make amends.
The temperature fell throughout
the night. Airflow and power had shut down; only the dim lights
remained on in the Cathian habitat. Over time, everything had gone
quiet and then still. Large bins had been lined up outside the
entry portal and the trans-arm lift was waiting for its first load.
Twelve service bots entered the habitat to start body removal. It
would take three days to clear out the rooms. The corpses would be
recycled of course, there were worthwhile chemicals there, but it
would take months to feed the remains through the digestion vats
and separation columns. Frozen storage units would be required,
temporary units were being set up. It was best this way, they had
thought. Neither the Cathians nor the Sticks were very bright, no
hope of finding much intelligence there, was there? Best to dispose
of them, troublemakers that they were. It seemed the right thing to
do until after they had done it.
Chapter 10 Gwynyth of
Feldland
Note:
Gwynyth of Feldland wrote her
memoirs toward the end her life on the Outward Voyager. By that
time, she had become a leading figure within the community, well
respected, and sought after for her learning and frank common
sense.
- MDK
It has been a long time since I
walked on Earth, but there are some things I recall most vividly,
and I have decided to enter them into memory. My life at that time
was only beginning. I was a mere girl living on my father’s farm.
The winter was long the year that my Father died, cold and wet, and
I spent most days huddled in my cot in our dark two-roomed hut. I
worked and tended to my father. He had been ill for a long time,
slowly weakening. I had my daily chores, sweeping the dirt floor,
bringing in firewood from the forest, raking hay for the horses,
cooking, all the time wet and cold. Not much else happened until I
was sent away.