Star Glory (Empire Series Book 1) Page 19

  “So the secret of the Empire beamer design is that magnetic ring?”

  “It is. While your ship ejects unconfined antimatter into the plasma vortex emitted by your vessel’s three thrusters, the emission of antimatter from this beamer is confined and focused.” He gestured at the person-high ring. “The ring generates two spirals of magnetic field force, each moving in a spiral opposite the other. This creates a positive magnetic tube which contains the negative antimatter.” He looked away from the block and up at the planet overhead. “The magnetic tube loses coherency at a range equal to 20,000 of your kilometer measurements. But that is enough coherency to make it a deadly weapon.”

  I fully agreed. The memory of a coherent black beam reaching out from one of the Empire ships to hit and kill the HMS Dauntless was not something I could forget. Nor could any member of our crew forget it. Now, we would be able to fight back with a similar deadliness. “Can it only shoot sideways?”

  Wick-lo’s tufted ears flared outward. “No. The ring mount can lift and angle over by 45 degrees in any direction. So the beam will shoot forward, to the rear and to either side.”

  That sounded pretty flexible. And since we had powerful lasers at the ship’s bow and stern, along with the gamma ray lasers on port and starboard, having the antimatter beamer at the ship’s stern gave it the ability to hit any enemy on that side of the ship. “Too bad no one knows how to achieve the Empire’s greater range for its laser beams.”

  Wick-lo looked down, then over to me. The three red eyes of the alien fixed on me. “All raiders agree with you. If we possessed that secret, we could combine it with this antimatter beamer to create a true danger to the Empire. Without it we are limited to surprise attacks on Empire cargo transports and isolated combat vessels.”

  I nodded. By now the alien understood it was the human body language for agreement. “Well, the Decider has the location of stars with planets further uparm. If you build a base around such a star, you could ally with humanity and other species to fight the advance of the Empire. And obtain valuables at the same time.”

  “This alliance appeals to me. And to the Decider. We have no willingness to fight a pointless fight. But if we can obtain valuables while harming the Empire, most raiders will like that.”

  Below us the derrick finished moving the beamer block. The ten aliens of various shapes now moved to the hull of the Star Glory. Their magnetic attachments allowed them to walk or shuffle or hop to where the block touched the hull. In seconds bright yellow blazes of welding began all along the contact line. The presence of workers like these and specialists inside who had worked with our Weapons Deck chief to create the gamma ray laser nodes left me wondering.

  “Wick-lo, the people below doing the welding are not raiders. Nor are the specialists who work inside your base on weapons design or the crafting of your interior habitations. Where do they come from?”

  The raccoon-being gestured at the planet overhead. “Some come from urbanoids on the surface of that world. It was empty of intelligent life until the Decider arrived many years ago. Some raider crews grow older and choose to live on this world. They have offspring. Many of those offspring attend knowledge dissimatories and seek employment at this base.” Wick-loo reached back to his suited tail and pulled it around to his belly. “I have thought of doing the same. But my duties for the Decider do not allow time for a personal life.”

  This alien sounded like some of the admirals and EarthGov pollies who spent their lives working, rather than living. Inside I gave thanks for my parents. Naturals they were, but Mom and Dad had created a home for me and my sisters. They had run our ranch well enough that we always had food, we always had shelter and we were able to do well at the public schools of Castle Rock. And some of our relatives had worked on the ranch when my older sisters left home, leaving me the sole manager of 400 cattle. Now, the ranch was sold, Mom was living in an apartment with my younger sister, and my older sister was busy raising her children and working from home as a designer of environmental algorithms. The climate change of the last century had forced many nations to figure out how to deal with rising seas, dying sea life, warmer oceans and melting ice caps. The Earth had achieved a kind of climate equilibrium when we left in 2091. I hoped it would be even more healed when we returned. But that was the problem. How much longer must we remain homeless in the galaxy?

  “Shall we return inside?”

  Wick-lo gestured agreement. I had learned his body language as much as he had learned mine. “Agreed. Let us return.”

  In minutes we reached the outer airlock hatch that gave access to the base interior, and the nearby drydock. I followed Wick-lo through the hatch, into a yellow-lighted room where gravplates grabbed our feet, then waited for the airlock hatch to close. A glance at my wrist sensor told me normal air pressure and near-Earth oxy-nitro air had filled the room. We both removed our vacsuits. That left me wearing blue and gray camo shirt and pants, a holster with my .45, and Wick-lo wearing little. From his shoulders hung leather straps that went down and connected to a leather belt at his waist. From the belt hung pouches filled with pieces of metal that I now knew were indeed tools. A black disk was stuffed into one of his waist pouches. I gave thanks he had not stuffed some creature carcass into another pouch. Carnivore he most definitely was. And a cannibal of intelligent beings he sometimes was. But he shared most of the concerns that mattered to intelligent beings. Like food, shelter and a job that mattered. I now saw him for the person he was, versus the Earth animal he resembled. Carrying my vacsuit with me, I followed him through the inner airlock hatch and out into a side hallway. At the end of the hallway moved dozens of aliens as they traveled the Mainstream concourse.

  He pulled the black disk from its pouch and looked at it. “The Decider calls me. Do you wish my company on your return to your entry space?”

  His caring touched me. While we humans were just one of the fifty or more species represented among the thousands of aliens who lived, worked and moved within this base, Wick-lo had always accompanied me when I traveled away from the new warehouse space guarded by combat suits. The Marines were only there. We had all learned that we could travel the Mainstream and visit other parts of the base so long as we did not attack nearby aliens, or did not drip blood and look wounded. Then some aliens who were apex predators might see an easy meal. Or valuables in our computer tablets and .45s. I was healthy, felt fine and was eager to get back to my station on the Engineering Deck. In a few minutes First Shift would end and I could head up to the Mess Hall and have lunch with my friends. They had all been busy with assignments from the captain. I missed their company, especially that of Evelyn. She had stayed over with me twice and it seemed we were now a couple. My yearning for Cassie had faded. And Oksana, while surprised by our closeness, seemed to enjoy Evelyn’s presence at our lunches. Five good friends had become six good friends.

  “I will return on my own.” I stopped as we reached the spot where the side hallway joined the Mainstream. “I have a comlink tab that connects me with other humans in our arrival space. And the translator tube continues to link into your Empire translator just fine. Go.”

  “Departing.”

  He hopped away to the left, moving with the flow of other beings on the concourse. My memory told me that the Decider’s dome access tube did indeed lie in that direction. I turned right, crossed the incoming crowd of weird-shaped aliens, and joined a flow of aliens moving opposite to the other flow. Going to the right would eventually take me to the side hallway that connected to the warehouse entry which lay beneath the ship’s boarding tube. Idly I let my mind inventory the various shapes of thinking beings around me. Two Komodo dragon reptiles stood ahead of me, walking slowly, their long tails sliding from side to side. On my left hovered a flyer that resembled a black and yellow wasp. On its chitin-covered head was something that resembled headphones. Did it listen to music as it flew? Or was it simply shielding itself from the creaks, groans, barks, squeals and thump noises mad
e by the seventy or so aliens who surrounded me to the front and rear. Briefly I caught sight of another rolling boulder alien. As before the overhead lights dimmed with its passage along the unmoving Mainstream concourse. I looked right at the oncoming flow of aliens. Three aliens who resembled walking panthers strode by on clawed feet, wearing green robes over their black-furred bodies. Behind them came two reptiles who resembled the saltwater crocodiles of northern Australia. Except these reptiles had gripper hands on either side of their long toothy jaws. Clearly they had evolved the ability to push food into their canine-filled mouths, in addition to just biting and wrenching flesh loose, as was the manner of alligators and crocodiles on Earth. More importantly, these two reptiles wore goggles over their eyes. Which told me they had evolved on a world with less sunlight than that put out by Sol. Alien crocodiles wearing shades brought a smile to my face. Sudden movement in the approaching flow drew my attention.

  Three aliens who resembled walking insects moved quickly on two of their six legs. Their flexible carapaces were covered in red and black bands, they had pairs of head horns and their compound eyes were looking my way. Their mandible mouths opened and shut, but all I heard was a loud hissing. Which did not translate into English anything. They looked like cockroaches. But giant ones. And they seemed agitated, if their body movements meant anything I understood. Seconds later wing pairs spread out from the upper backs of each cockroach. They rose as a group and flew over the heads or bodies of other aliens. I watched, wondering what was so urgent.

  “There!” hiss-spoke one flyer.

  In less than a second all three dove at me.

  Instinct made me crouch. Dropping the vacsuit, I swung. My right fist hit the thorax of one flyer. Its chitin skin crunched. It fell. The other two swarmed over me, their head horns stabbing at me.

  I grabbed the head of one cockroach with both hands and pushed inward. The chitin ruptured and gray brains spurted out. As I held it, the third cockroach twisted and came at me under the body I held. Its two horns sliced into my waist. I felt pain in my kidney areas. It hurt. It hurt a lot. Smashing the dead cockroach down onto the one below stunned it. Briefly it stood on all six legs. I kicked with my right leg. My boot hit its soft abdomen, penetrated, then the creature tumbled away from me as it moved through the air like a giant football. My super eyesight saw it slam against a nearby wall, fall and not move. The first cockroach I had punched now scrabbled away from me, hissing low. Two dead, one wounded. Breathing hurt. I pulled my .45, took aim and shot three times.

  “Kaboom! Boom! Boom!”

  The wounded flyer’s skull showed three black holes. I stuck my pistol inside my belt, hurting too much to be tidy.

  “Marines! I’m Stewart! I’ve been attacked and I’m bleeding. Heading your way on the Mainstream.”

  Putting both hands against my sides I did my best to stop the flow of red blood. It leaked out anyway, dribbling down my pants. Some spatters hit the floor. I growled at a nearby panther alien. It moved away. As did other aliens. While it was clear I was wounded, no nearby alien seemed willing to finish the attack on me.

  “Coming!” called the familiar voice of Matsumoto Osashi over my comlink tab. “Nathan, we have your location on our sensors. You’re a mile away. We’re flying on leg jets. Hang on!”

  I did not bother to answer. Instead, I pressed my palms against my sides and stomped forward slowly. Shock set in. While I might have super eyesight, super hearing and super strength, I was not invulnerable. The two cuts felt deep to my fingers. I hoped my kidneys were okay. While Medical could do transplants, I did not like going under anesthesia. Losing awareness, even while sleeping, was something I had always tried to avoid. That was one reason I had added a blocking bar to my personal cabin’s slidedoor. No one could enter while I was asleep. Leastwise not without using a laser torch. During Evelyn’s visits I had not used the bar. Admitting my fear of being vulnerable had not fit the hero image others had of me. And it mattered to me what Evelyn thought of me. I wanted her to care for me as a person, not as a stereotype sailor. She might be smarter than me, but I knew she cared for me. The mind image of her smile, her caring touch, her hug, they kept me able to walk. I breathed slowly, doing my best to fight off the shock disorientation. Looking ahead I noticed the aliens seemed double. Shit. My vision was messed up. Blood loss does that to you. But I heard the thundering roar of the leg jets that could move a Marine combat suit through the air and to a new combat position. Or drop them atop an enemy outpost. It was a welcome sound. I stumbled. I walked slower.

  “Got you!” cried Osashi.

  Arms wrapped around me. They were armored arms. But they were human arms. Behind him came the roar of two more leg jetting suits. Had they left only one Marine at entry guard? They should not do that, just for me. They . . . my double vision of Osashi’s armored arms vanished. Darkness filled me. My heart beat strong. I breathed okay. But I felt tired. Very tired. Sleep came.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Nathan? Can you open your eyes, please.”

  It was a voice I did not recognize. Briefly I wondered why I had been asleep. It was First Shift and I was on duty. Or, wait, wasn’t it about time for Second Shift to start? Wasn’t it . . . a rush of memories brought back my time with Wick-lo, his departure, my walk along the Mainstream and the attack by three flying cockroaches. How bad was I hurt? I opened my eyes.

  A woman’s face hovered over me. While her mouth was covered by blue gauze, her nose and black eyes and curly black hair were visible. Though the hair was covered by transparent fabric, still, her cheeks were pink normal against dark brown skin. Above her glared a bright yellow-white light. My back felt softness under me. Fingers and feet and toes moved to my commands. Whatever, I did not have brain damage.

  “They’re open. Who are you? Where am I?”

  She smiled quickly. “I’m Doctor Indira Khatri. You’re in Medical. The Marines brought you in. I’ve stopped your bleeding. And I closed your side wounds with elastic stitches. But you lost a lot of blood.”

  I took a breath. It made my sides hurt. “My kidneys. Are they okay?”

  “Oh yes,” she said quickly. “Your internal organs are fine. While your abdominal musculature was penetrated, there was no harm to your intestines or kidneys or other organs. We’ve replaced the blood plasma you lost. I predict full recovery.”

  That was good news. Equally impressive was the fact the top boss of Medical had operated on me. I knew her name, like the I knew the names of the other two surgeon doctors who worked in Medical. My wounds sounded modest compared to the wounds sometimes suffered by Marines, or industrial engineers moving heavy equipment. Why her?

  “Thanks. Can I get up?”

  She looked to her left, then back to me. A thoughtful frown showed. “Not yet. The blood plasma is still entering you, see?” She pointed a blue-gloved hand down at my right arm.

  I looked. Clear tubes led from my inner elbow out to a nearby pole that held a bag of red liquid. Which puzzled me. Why was she using gravity flow when hospitals today used powered blood injectors? I noticed six, no seven silver buttons attached on various parts of my bare chest. They had no wires. Clearly they were the normal wifi sensors that sent biodata to the doctor’s monitoring machine. Which I saw stood on the left side of my bed. There was a wall beyond the machine. Then, further down the wall, sat a blue-gowned medtech watching a vidscreen. I looked to my right.

  “Good to see you alert,” said Captain Skorzeny.

  Shock filled me. Then surprise. Being in one of the treatment rooms of Medical was to be expected in view of the deep lacerations I’d suffered. But to have the captain here when there were 368 other people on the Star Glory that needed his attention, that surprised me. A look past him showed an open slidedoor. A male nurse dressed in blue surgicals passed by. Low voices came through the door. My mind inventoried every device, every vidscreen in my treatment room, per my automatic habit. Before my ears could start feeding my brain every word spoken by anyon
e on Medical Deck, I shut down that sensitivity. It was bad enough that I noticed the tiny white kernels of cotton that adhered to the grating of the ceiling ventilator opening. Sometimes my super senses needed to be shut down. Or lowered. I breathed deep, felt two aches on either side, realized the doctor had not dosed me up with heavy opioids, and gave the captain a left-handed salute.

  “Sir! I’m alert. I’ll get back to duty as soon—”

  “Stop.” The captain looked to Khatri, who had stepped back a little from my bed. “Doctor Khatri, thank you for your work on PO Stewart. I am pleased at his quick recovery.”

  Her black eyebrows rose. “Captain, he is recovering faster than normal. The anesthetics I air-injected into his sides have cleared from his bloodstream. So have the painkillers, though I used only a mid-grade synthetic. And his heart rate, oxygen level and body temp are back to human normal. Maybe a bit elevated,” she said, looking quickly to me, then back to him. “But look, the elastic stitches are peeling away. The skin gashes are nearly gone. Just a few red lines where the alien horns penetrated. No one I know has skin that heals that fast.”

  The captain gave her a quick smile. “PO Stewart has a physiology that is a bit beyond normal, doctor. While I did not know his body would heal so quickly, I am not surprised. Please stay,” he said when Khatri stepped back, pulled off her blue mask and looked ready to leave. “I wish you here during my discussion with PO Stewart.” My boss reached down to a table beside my bed, grabbed something and held it up. It was my recorder tablet. Which I recalled had been attached to my belt all through today, both in the vacsuit and outside it.