Dreaming of Atmosphere (40 page)

49.

The closer the Xerxes got, the faster it seemed to be travelling. In actuality, it
was
travelling faster each second, but the rate at which it grew in my vision was startling. It was at this point in an axial deployment that most rookies bail out. The fear that one would collide with the target at too high velocity differential was real, and it took courage and a trust in your own reflexes, your own technology, to see it through.

I aligned my-self so my feet were pointing down, the grav-plav between the ship and my boots. I waited the final few moments with baited breath; my thumb on my jet back thrust controls. If I miscalculated this, and I bounced off the hull, I was as good as dead. Maxine would not be able to come around and pick me up, there were no rescue shuttles in the area to collect floating marines after the battle. I had to wait until the grav-plates synchronised with the stabiliser field of the ship before I could engage my jet pack. If I ignited my thruster too early the inertia of the jet pack would also be cancelled, and I’d collide with the hull with enough force to shatter every bone in my body. I had a window of about half a second.

If I managed to get that window right, I could arrest my velocity with ease, slowing down to a safe speed relative to the ship to allow the bottom of the grav-plate to magnetically clamp to the hull. At first, I thought I’d horribly miscalculated my chances of this occurring, and it only occurred to be half way through my drift through open space, as the hull of these organo-ships were living tissue. Tac had assured me, though, that the outer hulls were constructed, or grown, using an organic composite that include ferrous properties. He said it was essential to starship construction that the hulls were able to interact with electro-magnetic forces in order to allow certain functions. He assured me that mag-boots and grav-plate mag clamps would indeed work. Time to put that theory to test.

The Blade of Xerxes was huge, not just big on a starship scale, but truly massive. It was easily several kilometres in length, and several hundred metres in diameter. It was shaped like a giant terrestrial squid, with a bulbous front section that tapered off at the end in a trio of tendrils. It was a solid matte black, with hundreds of arrays and sensor pods all around it. I thought I could make out the rail gun porthole near the centre of the mass. I figured it would be near there as it was a spinal gun that ran the length of the ship.

The final distance closed to a few metres, and I saw that I was in trouble already. The hull curved, sweeping back towards the outer flanges of the main bulk further back on the ship. The angle would mean that I had a very real risk of simply sliding off, despite doing everything right. My training kicked into over drive, and I angled the grav-plate to match the hull, but due to the angle of approach, it wouldn’t make much difference. My overlay pulsed white, my signal from Tac that I’d synchronised with the stabiliser field. I activated the jet pack and bent my knees slightly.

With a bone jarring impact, I hit the hull, and the grav-plate mag clamps struggled to grip the hull. As I feared, the angle of force directed me towards the rear of the ship and I began to slide at an alarming rate. My back was throbbing in pain, as were my knees. I halted the jet pack burn and leant forward, falling onto my hands. I engaged the mag clamps in my gloves and gradually began to feel myself slow. A passing antenna array warned me to turn around and try to see where I was sliding. A head, about fifteen metres down was another array, all jutting spikes and branch-like outcroppings. If I hit that, a suit tear would mean the end of me. I tried to angle my slide by flailing my arms on the hull, trying to anchor myself somehow, but it was no good. In desperation, I use Spatial Translation and teleported fifty metres but up the slope, from the direction I came. I still had my momentum, but the grav-plate mag clamps had not re-engaged. I released my boots’ lock on the plate and kicked it away, using my own mag boots to grip the hull. I was on all fours, feet and hands, sliding still, but now I had more control. Eventually, I slowed to a halt, my arms shaking with effort and my breathing heavy. I waited a few moments to catch my breath.

“Tac, please let the Dreaming know that I have successfully completed stage one.”

Certainly, Seth. Congratulations.

I took stock of my surroundings. I could stand now, and I stretched my legs and bent my back to try and work some of the pain out. No broken bones, no sprains or other deadly debilitating injuries. I unhooked my equipment bag and rummaged around for my tool bag, extracting a pen shaped device, careful not to dislodge anything and lose it to outer space. I secured the bag again, and activated the device. A light green light emitted from the end, and I played it slowly over the hull all about me. It was a hand scanner that would map the surface looking for anomalies that could indicate the presence of an airlock. A three dimensional map appeared in my overlay as I scanned, and soon Tac highlighted an area about forty metres away towards the…well. I hadn’t yet designated an ‘up’ and ‘down’, but I guess I could use the front of the ship as ‘up’. The hatch was to my left and down about thirty degrees.

I carefully made my way over to the hatch and looked for any controls. Better yet, I found a small view port that showed the darkened interior of the airlock. I pointed my scanner into the port and mapped out the inside.

“I have enough info to translate directly into the ‘lock. Density of the atmosphere indicates it’s pressurised, so unless I want to alert the ship to a hull breach, this is the best way. Worth the expenditure of charge.”

I concur. Informing the Dreaming of stage 2 progress. The Captain wishes you a speedy return, and Zoe sends her love.

“Okay, here we go.”

I concentrated on the space inside the airlock and activated the Spatial Translation paradigm. The shift in gravity was disorienting, and I fell to the deck like a sack. The ship’s local gravity was oriented so that ‘down’ was aft, towards the stern of the ship. I untangled myself from the mess I’d fallen in and began to strip down out of my space suit. It was a struggle, these suits were never meant to be put on by a single person, but eventually I was free of its burden. I pulled on the Infantry Vest and my ablative coat, strapped on my PX-2, attached my brace of grenades and party poppers, stowed my extra batteries on my webbing, clipped the
lurzak
to my belt, slung Tac over my shoulder and attached an anchor point to my webbing at my back and hooked the bag with the explosive charges next to it. My tool bag was slung from a utility hook on the other side from the sword.

I examined the inner ‘lock hatch, and found the access panel. I inserted Fel’s override device and a green light lit on the controls. The hatch slid open and I stepped into a long darkly lit passageway. The air in here was warm, and had a strange smell to it. I could feel a breeze flowing aft and hear a hushed sound like a constant breath.

“Is that the life support making that sound?”

There are several oxygen organs at the far end of this passageway. I would assume the organs would try to circulate air constantly about the ship.

“It’s warmer in here than the Dreaming.”

Also the result of using living organs for life support. All of the organs generate heat as a by-product, which in turn bleeds into the ship as heating. It is a very efficient system.

“We can marvel at its ingenuity from afar, while it’s drifting disabled through space and I’m escaping in a ship back to the Dreaming.”

I understand, Seth. I shall focus my commentary on purely factual and advisory observations.

“Appreciated. Which way now? I can’t linger here for too long.”

Ships of large scale need fast means of transportation along their axis, for emergency and operational requirements. I would advise you locate one as soon as possible.

I moved at a brisk jog towards to my left. The passage curved around in both directions and I passed a hatch on my way. I paused to see if there were any notifications or designations on the hatch, but could find none save for an alpha numeric code – C2:028.

I continued on my way, passing several more hatches. Each one had an ascending number – C2:029, C2:030, C2:031. I began to realise that each number represented the access hatch. The C2 probably represented the deck number. After jogging for about ten minutes, I’d come full circle. I had passed C2:040 and the numbers had begun again at C2:001. The airlock hatch was C2:028. I would have to enter one of these hatches.

I returned to C2:001 and pressed the release button. The hatch slid open to reveal another passageway ahead about twenty metres the ended in a T-junction. I checked the designation on the combing behind me as I stepped through. It read B2:015. The letter must represent the ring of compartments on each deck. I said as much to Tac.

Logic would dictate that the main access corridor should be on ring A.

“I agree. If the hatches follow the same pattern, the access to ring A should be at B2:001.”

I trotted off in one direction, and found B2:014. As I was running past it I heard the hatch begin to open, and I turned around with my carbine at the ready. I kneeled as a figure stepped out of the hatch and turned their back to me without a care. The figure walked away, in the middle of a conversation on his overlay, no doubt. He was a dark blue jump suit and was unarmed. I watched and waited, and when the figure was almost around a bend, he checked a pocket and came up empty. He turned about as if he’d forgotten something and saw me. He froze and starred down at my gun. Don’t do it, I thought. He did. He turned and was about to run, but I opened up with a three round burst straight into his back. He fell to the deck, his flesh a smocking ruin. He was dead by the time I got to him. I checked down the passageway as far as I could see and rummaged through his pockets. I found a writing stylus and a packet of candy. I sighed and began to drag his corpse back to the hatch he’d left. I checked the compartment first, finding it to be an empty office with a couple of consoles and a desk. There was a cupboard against one bulkhead, and a half-empty stationary store. I pushed the body into the cupboard and closed the door. It would have to do.

I left the compartment and continued on my way, counting the hatches as they went down towards B2:001. I had two more encounters on the way, but luckily, I was able to duck out of sight while the crew walked away. My luck would not last.

I made it to B2:001 and opened the hatch. Inside was much like when I entered C2:001, a straight corridor that lead to a T-junction, which was also a ringed passageway. Suddenly, a pulsing light and an alert sounded. A throaty, deep sounding voice carried throughout the passageway, and for a moment, I thought I’d been discovered. What I heard chilled me to the bone, though.

“All hands, prepare for firing. Three rounds. T898 Thermal warheads.”

In moments, I heard a vibrating chuffing sound that echoed throughout the entire section. Three times. I hoped the Dreaming was ready. I had to pick up my pace. I ran around the passageway, counting down towards A2:001. In my haste, I made a mistake and ran straight into view of three crew walking towards me. They were surprised, and only one was armed. I stitched all three across the bellies with my carbine, and they died thrashing in pain. I walked up them and made sure they were dead before looking around for a place to hide their bodies. The nearest hatch was A2:007. I popped the hatch and covered the entrance with my gun. It was an equipment room of some kind. Occupied by a single crew, bent over a console in concentration. He looked up as I opened the door and was confused by what he saw. My first shots caught him squarely in the chest and he died, still unsure of what he was seeing. I dragged the corpses to the compartment and hid them behind and beneath the consoles. This appeared to be a monitoring station of some kind.

“Tac, is there anything here you can interface with that might give us some information about the ship?”

One moment. Yes, there is a configurable display on the farthest console. I believe I can access the ship’s deck plan from there. Low level information only.

“Better than nothing. Do it. How long will you need?”

Downloading information now.

“I forgot how fast you can crack systems.”

Sending packet to your overlay.

I brought up the information, and saw that my guess was right. The decks were arrayed in concentric circles, stacked on top of each other. There were twenty nine decks, all up. The last twenty were along the tail spine, but the majority of deck space was in the main bulk in the forward section. Three spinal corridors ran the length of the ship.

I believe one of those central shafts is the rail gun. The other two should be a main access corridor and secondary access corridor.

I left the compartment and made my way around to A2:001, careful not to make the same mistake. Sure enough, the hatch led to a large semi-circular compartment with two large hatches against a straight bulkhead in the centre. I also spotted a few security cameras in the compartment. I ducked out of sight of them, and consulted Tac once more.

“I should be able to mask myself from those cameras with my Invisibility paradigm, but opening one of those hatches will probably alert security.”

Agreed. These access corridors will more than likely be heavily monitored.

“Any ideas?”

Locate an access pass of some kind? Alternatively, allow me to access the panel using the override device.