Space Wrangler (8 page)

“Yes, Captain Gage. I understand completely.”

Alexia was still in the tube, parallel to the floor, when a rush of cool oxygen roused her, the same way it had done when she finished her transit through the sinkhole. For a moment, she thought maybe something had malfunctioned on the
Drifter
and the trip had been cancelled. Then she accepted the fact that four hours had apparently passed.

Unbelievable.

Was it like this for Trent when he awoke in the transit capsule, only to find himself lost in the bowels of the universe? Or was he still asleep, suspended in time?

He's awake and surviving somewhere
, she decided for the millionth time.
Either because he landed in the midst of a receptive civilization, or he's stranded alone on a habitable planet, cannibalizing the capsule to sustain himself. The equipment isn't advanced enough to let him return home, even if he knew how to do that theoretically. So he's waiting, and probably having the time of his life exploring some crazy new world.

She always imagined him that way, marooned in a strange, lava-covered land. He'd use the capsule as a boat and, rather than trying to move away from the volcano, he'd be paddling
toward
it to get a better look, all the while synthesizing food and water from the dense air surrounding him using some wacky new invention he had concocted from the capsule's technology.

Or better still, he had landed in the midst of a highly evolved culture where his thirst for knowledge was being so completely satisfied, he didn't even
want
to come home. But he'd return eventually, if only to see Alexia. Then he'd travel back and forth between the two worlds for the rest of his life.

The fantasy was interrupted by the tilting of her ACT. Then Rick slid the clear shield aside and eyed her cheerfully. “Welcome back. The Titans will be viewable in ten minutes. Just enough time to have a light snack and get you into your mask and gloves.”

As Alexia nibbled a strip of dried chicken, Rick provided narration for the real-time images on the ship's monitors. “That's the Sea-Mont recycling plant—the big moneymaker,” he explained as a series of cone-shaped metal smokestacks came into view. “No place else on either side refines usable bio-metal, or at least, not legally. The building next to it is Research and Development. The long, low one is the living quarters, and beyond that, you can see the A&R factory, which stands for assembly and re-assembly.”

Her attention had been drawn to huge fixtures resembling dark-gray pineapples atop each building.

“What do those fruity things do?”

“They clean the air,” he explained. “The fronds absorb most of the poison right away. The rest is processed through a filter and pumped full of extra oxygen. By the time the workers breathe it, it's just like Earth. Or so I'm told.”

“Why do they need such a huge assembly plant? Don't they import most things from Earth?”

“Only the things that can fit through the sinkhole. Most equipment and furniture is too big and has to be broken down before it transits. So they reassemble it here. And some things are just built here to start with. Like the
Drifter
. I ordered her and sent the specs, but she never existed E-side.”

“But you built Sensie back on Earth, right?” Alexia asked, intrigued.

“Yeah. She came through the sinkhole in the same capsule as me.”

“It's so romantic,” Alexia teased him.

“Yeah.” He grinned, then gestured to acres of bombed-out facilities and structures strewn across blackened gravel. “That's what's left of the Destroyers' civilization. They trashed the entire planet using some version of nuclear fission.”

“Why do you think they did that?”

“My guess? They didn't want it falling into the wrong hands. Their enemies, maybe.”

“Or the Titans?” She studied him curiously. “Do you think the Titans and the other machines rebelled against the Destroyers? Like some sort of retro Terminator movie?”

“We'll never know,” he began, but when she scowled, he laughed and said, “Yeah, I think the Destroyers created something they couldn't control and ended up abandoning the place because of it.”

“And destroyed what they could, then deactivated the robots so they couldn't come after them?”

Rick shrugged. “It's possible, although I don't see how the Titans could spearhead that kind of effort even if someone re-activated them. Part of me thinks the Destroyers were protecting
us
—not humans, necessarily, but any future explorers who stumbled onto this place and might set things in motion again.”

“Well, it's depressingly ugly.”

“The bogs are worse, trust me. If we had more time…”

“I've seen pictures,” she said with a laugh. “It's the Titans that interest me.”

“Good, because we're getting close. Finish your drink and we'll go out on deck.” He pushed her milkshake toward her. “Sorry, we only had cinnamon. That—and vanilla—are all they sell on the platform. If I'd known you were coming I would have gotten chocolate from the smugglers.”

“Cinnamon and vanilla—that's pure TJ. Boring to the end.” She took a sip, then grimaced mischievously.

“I can't tell if you love him or just resent the hell out of him.”

“Oh, I love him all right,” she said with a sigh. “He betrayed me. And for a while I actually thought I hated him. But in my heart, I knew we'd get back together. It's a little soon, but I need to tap into the old, romantic feelings if I want access to Prototype Number Four in time to save Trent.”

“So that's your agenda?”

“Not completely. But yes, that's what I need. At least for now.”

“Captain?” Sensie interrupted. “We are two minutes from the trudging fields.”

“Time for the show.” Taking Alexia's hand, he pulled her to her feet and led her onto a viewing deck protected by a crystal-clear shield. Then he brought out a pair of masks from a built-in cabinet.

Handing her a tube of gel, he instructed her how to coat her face, neck, hair and hands with it. “Be generous, it helps a lot. Okay, now…” He demonstrated with his own mask, covering his mouth and nose, and she followed his lead, impressed by how easy it was to breathe through the filter.

“Now the goggles and gloves.”

“But I want to see them with my own eyes. And
touch
them with my own hand.”

“Humor me,” he drawled. “When we get closer, you can take off one glove. But
not
the goggles. Deal?”

“Trent said the irritation only happens if there's prolonged exposure to the poison. And even then the damage is temporary.”

Rick seemed about to argue, then he just shrugged, as if to say that might be true, but it was
his
ship and he wasn't going to take chances. She also knew he was overprotective by nature and by grim experience. She couldn't really blame him for that, knowing how horribly his family and comrades had died.

“Captain?” Sensie's interruption was brisk. “Two thugs are approaching. Four o'clock from your vantage point.”

“Fuck,” he growled, stripping his mask back off and tossing it to the deck. “Alexia, go inside and strap into your chair.”

“Be serious. I want to help.” When he glared, she amended the request. “Let me watch. Please?”

“Fine. Sensie? I need the virtual panel.”

As Alexia watched, a bevy of lights and holographic gauges appeared in front of Rick.

“Shall I work the scope, Captain?” Sensie asked.

“Yeah, I'll need both beams for this. I want to immobilize the big guy and deal with him later. We'll use the lasso on the smaller one.”

A long beam of light unfurled outside the shield as the thugs came into view, and Alexia recoiled in disgust. They were huge and featureless despite having the basic form of apes—one six-footer, the other at least ten feet of hardened metal. They hurtled toward the ship, with the smaller of them already firing, although his bright-red missiles were deflected thanks to the
Drifter
's shield.

“Are they going to ram us?”

“The small one will.” Rick grinned sympathetically. “Use that strap on the wall to brace yourself. But don't worry. We do this all the time. Okay, Sensie,” he added in a loud voice. “I'm grabbing the big guy
now
.”

Alexia ignored the strap and instead moved closer to the viewing pane, pulling off her mask so she could see more clearly as the huge hulk slowed but didn't stop. Meanwhile, the smaller thug sped toward them, then slammed against the ship with such force and velocity she was thrown backward, landing butt-first on the deck.

“Fuck, this guy's a monster,” Rick muttered, ignoring her plight. “I need more power to the grab beam, Sensie. Lower the buffer for a minute. Yeah!” He exhaled sharply. “That's better. Jeez, he's a fucking animal. I'm gonna use the lasso on him too.” Turning to Alexia, he added dryly, “This time
brace
yourself. He's gonna ram us again.”

“Okay, okay.” She scrambled to the wall and looped her arm through the strap, then cowered when a spray of red missiles struck the shield in an eye-popping display.

“We've got him, Sensie. Now
hold
him while I finish off the little fucker.” Rick's hand swept through the air to a virtual pistol and he began firing at the smaller thug, bombarding him with firepower emanating from the hull of the ship until the beast visibly sizzled. Still Rick kept firing until one missile hit it squarely in the head and a hunk of metal went flying while a stream of smoke billowed into the air.

“Sayonara, asshole,” Rick called out with a laugh. “Track him, Sensie, and we'll haul him in later. I want to get Goliath under wraps before he breaks free. Any others on the horizon?”

“Just these two, Captain. Is our passenger hurt?”

“Just her pride.” He winked toward Alexia. “Hold on.”

“You couldn't pry me off this strap if you tried,” she told him with a laugh. “Are you going to blow the big one's head off too?”

“That's the plan. If I hit him just right, he'll go down. Eventually.”

She watched as Rick studied his prey. The giant gray robot was battling the electronic lasso while also struggling to free itself from the invisible grab beam. Both proved no match for the thug, and Alexia winced when it broke away and headed right toward them on a collision course with the deck.

No instinct for self-preservation. Or it knows something you don't know
…

When this one hit, the force smashed her brain against her skull and she howled in shock even though she was also perversely delighted. Somehow, Rick kept his footing through it all, wielding the electron rope again, but as a whip now. The tip sent a current of electricity into the thug and it raised one giant arm to ward it off, but it was too late. The lasso re-appeared, ensnaring the arm just as Rick fired a new round of missiles.

In an instant, the thug's giant head exploded. Flames leapt into the air, smoke poured from the newly created cavity, and the hulking body started to drift, emasculated and inert.

“Oh my God!” Alexia wriggled free from the strap and catapulted into Rick's arms. “You got him! You got him!”

“I shot him,” he agreed, “but I don't actually have him yet, so…” He disentangled himself, but not before giving her a victory hug. Then he explained, “That was the fun stuff, but
this
is where I make my profit.”

“Oh right.” She backed away, embarrassed but still exuberant. “They were bigger than I expected.”

“Wait till you see the Titans. They make these guys look like toys.” Turning back to the virtual display, he demanded, “Sensie? How's the power? We need to grab the big carcass soon.”

“I can do that, Captain, if you rope the small one. We need to load
him
first, agreed?”

“Yeah. Try to get that piece of skull too, will you?”

“Of course.”

As man and computer worked in tandem, securing their bounty, Alexia relaxed and enjoyed the sight of his broad, effortless movements. Muscles rippled through the fabric of his thin biohazard suit, and his voice—rich and commanding—echoed all around her, filling her ears the way his gestures fueled her fantasies.

“Hey,” Rick told her with a chuckle. “You're looking the wrong way. See what's at eleven o'clock?”

“Oh no,
more
of them?” she began, then she spied what he wanted her to see. Shapes—humongous ones—moving slowly, not through the air, but on the ground.

Trudging.

“Oh my God.”

Despite the warnings, despite the photos and the videos, she had somehow expected them to be beautiful, like the
Drifter
when the sunlight hit its cobalt-blue hull. But these robots—twenty feet wide, fifty feet tall—didn't shine at all. With bodies of gunmetal gray, and limbs like tree trunks, they resembled nothing she had ever seen.

Titans
.

Trent had named them the moment he first laid eyes on them. Warriors of titanium and biotanium. Like the thugs, their faces had no humanoid features, yet unlike the thugs, they seemed eerily alive. Supremely powerful, but at the same time, calm. Almost serene. Not just because they were partially deactivated, but because they were indestructible—even in this dormant state—and they knew it.

And so they trudged, forming wide, aimless patterns, interweaving amongst one another. Two hundred of them on the aptly named “trudging” fields.

“They're unbelievable.” She pressed her nose against the pane for a better look. “Why do you think the Destroyers chose
this
spot to corral them?”

“There's not much dry land on Destry. Mostly bogs, remember? There's this patch, and the area where Sea-Mont built its facilities, and then there's a big expanse on the other side of the globe, but it's littered with so much bombed-out debris, we think it's probably where the Destroyer population lived and worked.” He paused to give Sensie final orders on loading the cargo, then he joined Alexia. “David Seaton wants to re-animate them. Can you believe it? Not that he could figure out how to do it,” he added in disgust.