Archaea (21 page)

“Nice, Gene”,
Jane said. “We lugged your toolbox down to engineering for you already, while you and the captain had fun flying around.

“Fun? That's a laugh, Shorty. Next time Dak wants someone to hang on for dear life while he blasts around tons of whirling death, you can volunteer.”

“Oh come on Gene, you live for a life of danger and adventure, don't you?”

I laughed, despite the look of murderous intent Gene flashed at Jane, or maybe because of it.

We kicked on down the companionway, and I reflected on how quickly we went from pushing terrified into the unknown dark, to familiarity. Jane and I were still strapped, but we were definitely at ease. Who knows what thoughts we might have later, remembering images we've locked away behind the companionway hatches in our minds – but for now we were on mission.

Gene was like a kid on Christmas morning in the engineering space, pulling parts and pieces off of the machinery, taking valves, sensors, crates of parts he found in a storage compartment under a deck hatch – he was keeping me pretty busy, working like a
Sherpa. Jane had taken a station in the cargo hold back aboard the Archaea, organizing, sorting and strapping down cases and boxes, like some brutally efficient pint-sized quartermaster. Between Gene on one end of the trek, and Jane on the other, I was really starting to feel the burn of a good sweat.

“Gene”, the captain's voice crackled in our helmets, “I
have been thinking more about those seven empty berths. Do you know when you'll be done field-stripping this beast?”

I chuckled to myself, imagining the look Gene is flashing at Jane right about now.

“We're getting there, Dak – I have just about all I need from engineering...I want to make a quick check through the bilge deck in case there's anything else we can't live without, but then we should be good to go.”

“Make it snappy please. I don't want to be here if the seven dwarves come home.”

Jane and I met Gene coming out of engineering, and we dropped down the elevator shaft. I was just about to the bilge hatch when something drew me up short. I'm not a jumpy person by nature, but I've spent enough time in combat, with real live people shooting real live ammo in my direction, to have a sixth sense for danger. My hackles were up, and something didn't smell right.

Jane's eyes opened wide, and her gun was at the ready and aimed at the hatch almost faster than I could see her move. Behind and above her, Gene hooked on to the wall and flashed a concerned look down the shaft at me. We all clicked off our helmet lights and set image amps to max.

“Captain, be advised, Yak may have some activity in the bilge” whispered Jane. “We're moving in now, stand by.”

“Roger, Shorty – stay frosty and keep me posted.” His voice was heavy with concern, but rock-solid and calm in my ears, in diametric opposition to the sudden hammering in my chest.

I waved Jane down to take a position at the opposite corner of the hatch, and mirrored the companionway leading aft through the bilge compartments. At first I didn't see anything, but then a brief flash of movement all the way towards the stern caught my eye. I slowly pivoted the mirror until I could see what looked an awful lot like two men lined up to pop the next person through that hatch right in the dome.

I looked up at Jane, and pointed at my eyes, then held up two fingers. She nodded, and took a wrap in her rifle sling, sighting down at the open hatch. I took another quick look with my mirror, and noted two firing positions on either side of the companionway, right where the next
bulkhead met structural framing inside the companionway opening.

“Jane,” I whispered, “we have two firing positions to port and starboard of the companionway with solid cover. It looks like we have similar positions all the way down the bilge deck, so we might be able to leapfrog to grenade range if we cover our advance with suppressing fire. Are you up for this?”    

She nodded her head violently, never taking her eyes off the hatch.

“Okay Jane, I am going to toss a flashbang, and then we're going to push that position as hard as we can – here we go, on three...two...one--” I pulled the pin and hooked my arm around the upper edge of the hatch, and hurled the grenade as far as I could right down the corridor like I was throwing a touchdown pass, shut my eyes as tight as I
could and waited for the flash.

When it went off, the light and sound in the enclosed space caught me off guard, but they always do – even when you know it's coming, you never really remember how horribly loud and bright they are.

Even though I had my eyes tightly shut when it went off, I could barely see through the afterimage of the explosion as I boosted around the edge of the hatch and kicked for the starboard bulkhead – but I could see well enough to spot a man standing in the open at the end of the hallway. He looked just like a target silhouette in a shooting range, and I put two shots from my chemser right through him at center mass, and watched him kick loose and tumble.

Jane was in position now on the port bulkhead, and popping fire down the corridor, so I pushed ahead to the next station, praying her aim was tight. As soon as I tucked in, I started suppressing fire, and she moved up to the next station ahead. As she moved up, a shape at the end of the corridor leaned out, and I put two shots through his helmet.

Jane and I checked fire, and waited a moment to see if anything else was moving at the end of the hall.

“Captain, two down.” Jane breathed into my ear. “Rolling up now Yak, cover me.”

I had the end of the hall scoped, and she moved down slowly, carefully keeping out of my field of fire.

“Clear, move up.”

“Roger, moving up”, I said, kicking off down the corridor.

It doesn't matter
how many times I've looked down the barrel of a rifle and watched a man fall because of my action, my finger on the trigger, my will to survive – the mind still recoils in horror at the savagery and brutality of the moment.

All the training in the world can only help you push that emotion aside and focus on shooting straight, and shooting first – but afterward, in the dark of the night, in the shadows behind your eyes, that feeling of the trigger being squeezed, the waves of emotion and sick fear like a hot pit in the bowels of your soul come rushing in.

Even the toughest marine feels it, the remorse and shock, the connection made and broken forever between enemies on the battlefield. I knew it would haunt me, another terrible and exhilarating memory to be filed away forever in the cold, dark room in the very back of my mind.  

As much as I didn't want to, as I moved up I couldn't help but come face to face with the reality of what had just happened. Both men were clearly dead, slowly floating amidst red globules of blood despite cauterization from the chemser fire.

Jane moved up, and touched my shoulder, held her hand there for a moment, and I just about broke down and wept at the humanity in her simple expression.

“We had no choice, Yak”, her tiny voice whispered in my ear.

I sat there for a moment, locking the scene away, saving it against a future time when I might no longer care, might not have this humanity in my heart.

“Yeah...it's just...it never gets any easier.”

“I know...but those men were going to kill us, Shaun. If it wasn't for us coming along to give Gene a hand, it would be him lying here at the end of this corridor right now.”

She was right, of course, as emotional as she might be at times, right now her heart was tempered steel, her eyes were cold as ice. Despite the bodies, despite the crushing waves of emotion, of fear and regret, we had a job to do and  we didn't have time to waste.

“You're right, Jane. Let's get that hatch open and see what these clowns were trying to protect.”

“That's the spirit, Yak – crack out that plasma rig and cut me up a slice of that hatch”, she said, taking up a firing position at the nearest bulkhead.

“Captain, Gene – Yak and I are making an entry on a sealed compartment at the stern end of the bilge. Please stand by.”

I took a position to the side of the hatch opposite of Jane, and started cutting, white-hot globs of molten metal spalling into the corridor around me, sparkling brightly through my darkened visor. When the lock section had been cut away, I looked back to make sure Jane was in a good position, and at her nod, hauled open the hatch.

She gasped in my ear, as I looked in and saw a man in manacles, lying on the floor.

*****

I left Janis in charge of the bridge, with explicit instructions to notify me immediately of any condition I might need to know about, and then to take whatever action she needed to take if I wasn't able to respond quickly enough, and Pauli and I met Gene, Yak and Shorty in the sick bay. They had an NRB mask on the prisoner's head, but he had a weak pulse, and looked blue.

I clamped a pulse oximeter to his finger, and bawled at Gene to get me something to cut off the binders, while Shorty and Yak hovered in the background, stinking like chemical fire.

“Yak, Shorty – get that gear off, and get it stowed. I need you both back here on the double”

They both kicked out like their tails were on fire – I guess that's one benefit of being captain in null-g, when you say hop, people literally do. Pauli pulled over the vital console, and we started hooking him up, pulse, temp, heart monitor, the works.

Gene returned with cutters, levered off the binders, and we both cringed at the sight of the open sores underneath.

“Gene, get to work cleaning those up, and I'll finish getting his vitals. Janis, dear – what is your current level of understanding of medical science?”

“Captain, I have extensive physiological, neurological, pathological--”

“Yes dear, I am sure you do – though I don't need a full list right now. Can you help me make sense of this man's vitals and recommend treatment?”

“Certainly sir. This man is suffering from shock, malnutrition, dehydration, hypoxia, and carbon monoxide poisoning due to smoke inhalation. He will need an IV started right away for aggressive fluid resuscitation, and then administer intravenous doses of ampicillin, vancomycin, and sodium bicarbonate for acidosis.  I have already boosted the humidity level in this section to 85%, but for now keep using the non-rebreather mask and assist his breathing.”

“Will do Janis”, I said, motioning to Gene for an IV from the cabinet.

“Does anyone know who he is, did he say anything?”

“No Captain,” Shorty said, “he was chained up and
lying   on the deck when we made entry, sir.” Her eyes grew big, as Gene cleaned a spot on the top of his hand, and I uncapped an IV needle.

“Do either of you need anything else over there?” I asked, looking at Gene and Shorty.

“No sir.” Gene looked at Shorty for confirmation, and she nodded.  “We're both good to go. We have filled our hold with just about everything that wasn't bolted down, and then some--”

“I even hauled over the mystery cases we saw right after we entered.” Yak added.

“We have the gig, some really nice latest-gen turrets, all the hardware and gear we could carry – we loaded up enough hot-blend reactives to take us to the farthest reaches of the outer rim ...If there's anything else on that tub, we don't need it. I'd say we're good to go, Dak.” Gene and I locked eyes for a moment, and I nodded.

“Sounds good. Janis, please bring this ring up to speed for point-seven gee. Gene, I need the fire lit as soon as possible. Shorty, I need you on station, but I'd like Yak and Pauli to stay here with our guest. Let's get a move on people. Time to haul mass.”

I climbed up into the gun deck, and kicked off for the bridge. I started running through the checklist to prep for launch while the sound and vibrations of various pumps and machinery starting up signaled the ramp up of the tokamak.

Some modern ships are push-button flybots, but not the Archaea – we have to work through a pretty complex series of procedures to make sure she's ready for launch, even just to undock. I have to go through all system screens checking caution-and-warning status, warm up and test attitude and maneuvering thrusters, test flight controls, check to make sure our departure lane is clear, check comms, and then wait for Shorty and Gene to go through their procedures and report green-to-go back to my board. It's a process, and while I've been known to stab it and steer on occasion, I don't make a habit of it.

I was pretty much done with everything I had to do, and was waiting for Gene and Shorty to talk back when I started to think. Now don't get me wrong, I know the best captains have people to do that for them, but right then I had the bridge to myself and nothing better to do. It occurred to me that we were just about to leave a pretty significant amount of military hardware just floating out here for any old swinging  dick to just waltz on up and use. Besides the seven dwarves we knew were out there somewhere, this destroyer, as slagged as it is, would still make a pretty decent base of operations for the bad guys.

“Gene, I know you're busy right now--”

“Then why are you bothering me?” he snapped, right on cue. 

“Because it's what I do, and I am pretty damn good at what I do.”