Metal Boxes - At the Edge Page 29

  “Folks, I’m Trey Stone. This armored gentleman next to me is Tim Dollish. We are here by Empire writ to help free you.”

  The man grunted, “About freaking time.” But his grin belied his words.

  “Let me warn you, that on the other side of this gate is a sentient being called a drasco. Her name is Jay and she may look scary, but she won’t hurt you.”

  The man said, “Can’t hurt us no worse than them other critters been doing to us.”

  Stone said, “Jay, would you get the gate please?”

  The drasco stepped into sight, grabbed the door, and yanked. She tossed it away with a clang and stepped back.

  The man and his two friends bolted through the door. One of the men backed up at the sight of Jay, but the big man walked right up to Jay, standing face-to-face with her. “You’re intelligent?”

  Jay typed into her TTS, “More than you.”

  The man guffawed, “You’re most likely right there. Pretty thing, aren’t you?”

  Jay said, “Prettier than my sister, but not as beautiful as my daughters.”

  The man looked up at Stone. “This thing helping us against those abominations using us as slaves and for lunch?”

  Stone looked down. “Their kind have been eaten by the Hyrocanians as well.”

  “Hyrocanians? Boy, are you sure? That there Prophet back on Holliman’s Rift said the war against the Hyrocanians was over and we was at peace with them.”

  Stone nodded, “I’m sure. The Prophet is a liar.”

  The man spat, spittle hitting a wall. “I figured as much.”

  Stone walked along the wall to the next pen. A dozen humans stood staring up at him.

  A woman with tears in her eyes asked, “You here for all of us, Signore?”

  Stone nodded, “We won’t leave anyone behind.”

  “Bless you, Signore. Bless you and your drasco both. You just get this gate open and I’ll bless her to her face whether she be an ogre, demon, or the devil himself.”

  Stone noticed that Dollish had backed away, keeping the big man in his sights. He had darkened his faceplate so the man could not see where he was looking. Dollish was not pointing a weapon in the man’s direction, but it would only take a quick flick of a wrist. Stone had seen Dollish throw a knife from farther away at smaller targets. He understood his friend being uncomfortable around the man. He was imposing and had an air of unconcern about his own well-being or those around him. Stone wondered if the man was trying to protect the weaker humans in his cage or simply looking for an excuse to cause a scuffle. The man was not exuding any odors that Stone could detect, he smelled emotionless.

  Tuttle and Hector came around the other way. Still sealed in their suits, they were large figures when compared to unarmored humans. Tuttle held up four fingers of a gauntleted hand indicating all clear. She shoved Hector by the shoulder, sending him toward the far door to cover their way out.

  The big man said, “They’s more of you’uns?”

  Stone nodded. “Jay?” He gestured to the gate of the next pen.

  When Jay moved past the big man, he reached out a hand to pat her. Before Stone could say anything, the man lost a couple of layers of skin on her thick sandpaper hide.

  Jay grabbed the gate and yanked. The woman raced out, followed by the gaggle of humans in the pen. She dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around one of Jay’s legs. Disregarding the loss of skin, she hugged the drasco. “Bless you, creature of God.”

  The man shouted, “You still believe that fairy tale?”

  The woman stood and said, “I admit I was lead astray by a false lying prophet, but that doesn’t mean that God himself doesn’t exist.”

  The man made a rude noise.

  The woman continued. “I did not lose my faith in The Almighty and He sent these good angels to save us.”

  A pair of hands raised above the mesh over the next cage. “Hey! What about us? We got sick folk in here.”

  Tuttle was closest to the pen’s gate. She grabbed it with one hand, jerked it loose and tossed it to the side.

  “Dang hat on a hot hut! That’s some suit your fellow got there,” the man said. “I been pulling on these bars off and on all day long and they ain’t budged one smidgeon. Um…where do you suppose a feller could get a suit like that?”

  Stone watched a couple of people rush out of the third pen. The woman from the second pen rushed in to check on the sick folks. Ignoring the big man’s question, he turned to Dollish, “Tim, see if you can give them a hand. I know you’re not a medic, but you know more first aid than I do.”

  He looked back at the big man. Once free, he seemed to have forgotten the people he had been caged with. Stone asked, “I take it you’re not a convert of the Prophet?” He paced along the wall, followed by the big man. He looked down into the pen on the far side. He did not recognize the type of animal in the pen, but he did not see any sign of intelligence. All of the creatures were head down in a pile of feed, ignoring what went on around them.

  The man laughed, “Me a convert? Not on your life. I’m just an ordinary Joe who done got sent here by mistake.”

  The woman stepped back out of the pen. “I know who you are. You’re nothing but a common criminal.”

  The man laughed, “No, lady. There ain’t nothing common about me. I’m only got sentenced to the labor camps because that cow of a girlfriend of mine turned me in for the reward.” He laughed harder. “She got what she deserved. The lying Prophet kept the reward and sent her here with me instead.”

  Tuttle spoke to the small crowd using her suit’s external speakers, “We don’t have much time here, Signore Stone. Let’s get a move on.”

  Stone nodded at her and said, “You look healthy enough to keep working. Why did you get sent here?”

  The man said, “Because I don’t work for no man, but me.”

  Stone pointed at another man who was standing between the gate and the other people in the first pen. “You, signore?”

  The man shrugged.

  The woman said, “No time for modesty. Signore Stone, Benjy was caught sabotaging the ships we were supposed to be building.”

  The man shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. It didn’t work. I got caught before I could finish.”

  Stone pointed at the man. “You are now in charge of everyone here.” He looked at the big man and said, “Him, not you. Any deviations from his orders and I will personally make sure you regret it.”

  The big man shrugged. “I’m good with that. Don’t want the job of babysitting kiddings, old farts, and sickos no way. You give me a gun and I’ll help you kill more of them Hyrocanians.

  Stone said, “I don’t have time to take on amateurs, signore. Folks, we’re still not secure on this ship. My team has more areas to lock down.” He popped his helmet back on and latched it tight. Activating his external speakers, he said, “We’re going to have to weld you in here for the time being. I’ve already sent a message to our ship letting them know you’re here, so even if we don’t come back, they will send someone to you.”

  The big man said, “Come on, pal. Give me a gun here.”

  Stone boomed, “I’m not your pal, signore. Stay here and stay safe. I have enough human blood on my hands without adding yours.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Stone checked his copy of the ship’s diagram on his HUD. They had taken the most direct route to the bridge from engineering up a level. The next bend in the corridor should put them right outside the bridge hatch. The ship schematics, as roughly drawn as they were, had shown one hatch.

  His only plan was a direct frontal assault on the bridge hatch, meaning probable injuries or death for his team. Flipping up his faceplate, he inhaled deeply. The thick odor of roses dipped in maple syrup wafted on the air. He tried to discern how many Hyrocanians might be guarding or working on the bridge, but the odor was too thick and cloying to tell.

  He looked at Jay. She was hunkered low to the deck ready to spring into attack. H
er back feet were planted, but her front feet were dancing up and down in excitement. Her mouth was open wide, taking in the enemy’s aroma. Stone wanted to ask if she could tell how many they were about to attack, but usually, the drascos would only express numbers as few, many, or very many.

  He was about to order his small team forward when he caught an odd scent on a small eddy of air moving through the life support systems. The fragrance was light but undeniable. He could not order his team forward. He knew that only he and Jay would stood a chance of surviving once they stepped around the corridor bend.

  He slammed his faceplate closed and spoke over his team’s comms, “Tuttle, Dollish, and Hector, get back to those people. Get them off the ship now. Use them to herd the animals out. Stampede them if you have to. Fast!”

  Tuttle said, “I’m not leaving—”

  “Get out!” Stone hissed.

  Jay echoed his hiss as she caught the scent of sandalwood on the air.

  Without waiting for further response, he turned, chucking a long series of hand grenades from his left bicep down the corridor. Before the grenades exploded, he followed his left arm around the corner, racing toward the Hyrocanians on guard at the hatch.

  The grenades exploded in a fury of wind, debris, and Hyrocanian body parts. He stitched a long row of slugs from the high caliber handgun on his right forearm without aiming. Each recoil jolted his arm back at the shoulder.

  Running through the flames and ferocity of the grenade explosions, he bolted into the bridge. It was no different from any other Hyrocanian configuration. There was a long row of monitors with control panels and three command chairs. There was only one station in operation. A fat alien sat at the communications monitor. Leaning over to the next station, it rapidly poked the buttons at the navigation control panel. It was preparing the ship to break away from the welded docking clamps. Stone pulled his TDO-960A into position and squeezed the trigger. It barked twice, spreading Hyrocanian navigator goo across the monitor, burying its slugs into the screen’s frame. The reliable rifle clunked and stopped. Empty.

  Two obese Hyrocanians flanked a truly corpulent Hyrocanian admiral. The nearest alien bolted from its chair, flying at Stone. Drawing kitchen knives from its waistband, its arms whirled in a scythe-like motion.

  Jay was only a step behind Stone. The second Hyrocanian leaped at the drasco. For some reason, it did not draw its knives. She ducked, flicking her tail up in time to skewer the four-armed freak in mid-air. Her titanium-armored tail spike gored deep into the creature's guts, its little eyes wide in puzzlement as its insides slipped free.

  Stone caught the attacking Hyrocanian officer in the iron grip of his suit’s gauntlet. Standing twice as tall as an unarmed alien, Stone wondered if the creature thought his excessive bulk was enough to bowl him over. Instead of being knocked off his feet, Stone dispatched the creature using his preferred method of shoving his fist into its gaping maw, grabbing something soft at the back of its throat, twisting his wrist, and yanking hard.

  He shook the remains off his gauntlet and prepared to attack the admiral. The creature was so fat that Stone was not sure it could move out of its chair. No human could get that fat and move, but Hyrocanians were known to be quick on their feet no matter how much fat they carried.

  He froze. The Hyrocanian admiral held up all four hands, with open palms showing he was not carrying any weapons.

  Jay asked, “Kill it, Mama?”

  Stone answered, “I cannot. It’s surrendering.”

  He took a step backward and prepared his last heavy bunker-buster for discharge, but held his fire. His suit fed him an almost overpowering fragrance of sandalwood. The concentration was so thick Stone knew he had only smelled this level before in the presence of the virion nest inhabiting the Prophet. A small stream of gray dust whirled around the bottom of the creature’s garish pant legs before escaping across the floor toward Jay.

  Stone preferred not to think about which orifice the virions were using. Jay did not care where they came from. She snapped and snarled, stomping her feet in a wholesale slaughter of the tiny virions. They retreated from the drasco, disappearing back into the Hyrocanian admiral.

  A second thin stream tried coiling up Stone’s leg. He let it reach his waist. His suit was designed to protect him from biological entities much smaller than two hundred nanometers in size. Flipping on his torch, he seared millions of the virions, sending the rest scurrying back to their host.

  It stared from Stone to Jay and back again. Its eyes wide with amazement. Both sets of teeth worked furiously, without making any sounds. Contorting its face, it looked like it had been chewing on something foul and disgusting, and was unable to clear the taste out of its mouth.

  It spoke.

  Stone activated his P.A. comms. “Kat, this is Stone. Do you still have your Hyrocanian translator from our time on the Rusty Hinges?”

  Emmons responded quickly. “Of course, Trey. I’m a real scientist. I would never throw—”

  Stone used the best command voice he could muster when he interrupted. “Get it on now. Translate playback immediately.”

  Emmons said, “Why—”

  “Now, Doctor.”

  The admiral spoke again. Stone’s P.A. translated, “Astounding. Living creatures with a brain that I can’t even penetrate, much less subjugate.”

  Stone said, “Move and I will kill you.”

  The admiral looked at Stone as his unit translated the warning. “Well, well, well. Simply astounding. We had been informed that humans, even those wearing combat armor were easy to invade. We have not been programmed to control your fragile bodies, but we should be able to easily…what was the phrase we were given…yes, cause you to stroke out. That is shutting off your brain, yes?”

  Stone ignored the question. Adding additional frequencies to his comms, he said, “Peebee, do you have the Prophet contained?” His question was translated to Hyrocanian and broadcast over his suit’s speakers to this virion nest.

  Peebee replied, “Yes. Locked away. It had managed to scour the one-way membrane for air exchange and escaped that way. The piglets fixed it.”

  “Repair the other cage and get it over to ramp eighteen on the double.”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  “Kat, get me a couple of your antibiotic spray bottles. Don’t wait for Peebee to get that cage ready. Get someone in a suit to bounce it to the main hatch at eighteen. Do it now.”

  The comms were silent, but Stone knew Doctor Emmons would do as he asked…said…ordered. Yes, he had made the command and demanded she comply. He was positive she would.

  “Jay, get down to the main hatch. Retrieve those sprayers and make sure the corridors are clear between here and the cage.”

  The virion nest said, “I have surrendered to you. Killing will not be necessary.”

  “Don’t make it necessary and I won’t kill you.”

  The Hyrocanian laughed in a bizarre, coughing, staccato grunt. “It doesn’t matter. We have already won. Do what you will.”

  Stone said, “That is exactly what the Prophet said when I threw him in the cage.”

  “Oh, you have met us through my counterpart. That is inconvenient, but not devastating to our victory.”

  Stone said, “Doctor Emmons, please scan this ship’s contents. It’s a different configuration than other warehouse ships we’ve seen, but I’m sure it is a supply ship. I need to know what its cargo is.”

  “You are a pirate? Only wishing to steal our goods? That doesn’t matter. We have others arriving soon enough to take back what is ours. You see, you are an inconvenience only, not a serious impediment to our plan to bring peace to this galaxy. You will either give up your hostile, warlike ways or your species will perish. We shall prevail.”

  Jay slid onto the bridge, her feet scrabbling on the deck plates. She tossed a spray bottle to Stone and pointed the second one at the Admiral.

  Stone looked at it in surprise. He expected something fancy and sci-fi looking
. Instead, it was a simple polyethylene bottle filled with a watery blue liquid. It looked like something he would find in the janitorial closet.

  Jay gave a great imitation of a human shrug.

  Stone said to the admiral, “Do you want to test our kill solution? A few quick squirts of this will kill you. And I don’t just mean the body you are inhabiting, but the whole virion nest.”

  The admiral raised its hands even higher. “No. I will not resist. We will rescue us shortly.”

  Stone said, “Over my dead body.”

  “Why, yes. That is the most likely outcome.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Stone scanned through the long list of goods on-board the Hyrocanian warehouse ship. Concentrating on the long, mundane list of everyday products was a challenge, listening to the conversation going on around him was even harder. The fragrance of sandalwood seemed to be stuck in his nose and the Platinum Pebble almost reeked of it. The odor was the residual holdover from the Prophet’s escape. His nose, his drascos, and every possible ship sensor was confident every virion was locked up in one of the two transparent plasticrete cages firmly ensconced on M Deck. Jay and Peebee were incensed at the presence of the two virion nests. They refused to take breaks from guard duty, taking turns watching the two nests.

  Ryte said, “I don’t know why we’re even discussing this. I’m here under emperor’s writ to find and stop the manufacture and sale of goods to the Hyrocanians. The emperor and the senior Signore Stone allowed me to commandeer this ship and crew to accomplish the goal. We need to return to Lazzaroni, so I can file my reports and press the UEN to get here faster to destroy these vessels.”

  Stone looked up from his reports. “Agent Ryte, your investigation may once again have saved the human race from destruction, but you did not do this alone. You are in charge of the investigation, but this is my ship. It goes where and when I say.”