Chapter 31: Flytrap
Reece looked at the tactical display. They flew along in a Venusian transport that was barely holding together. He had managed to insert the ship into Stream 1’s influence and they were now surfing along its path to the next stream.
He liked that the controls of the transport were analog and not holographic, as was Venusian tradition. However, it was an unwieldy craft and he would need to compensate for it by altering his timing. Each successive jump would become more difficult, so it was going to take some surgical flying to safely get to the next stream.
Reece set a timer on the computer, using calculations he had come to memorize from practice runs he and the pilots had done with their Z-40s through the streams—back at a time when he had a full squadron. A time when Tash was still around. He wondered how many of them were left now.
He gazed at the timer. The seconds ticked away as he waited for the moment where he would need to pull some impossible flying.
“How are they doing?” Reece asked, keeping his attention fixed on the timer.
“I’m fine, asshole!” Murdock’s voice yelled. “Just get us on the deck already.”
“Hey!” Laina shouted. “Daryl is dying—thanks to you two idiots! We need to get him on the ship now. How much longer?”
Reece sighed.
Hours earlier, they’d complied with Laina’s wishes, following her lead in talking Daryl into letting them go. Unfortunately, her gift of gab did little to sway him—even the revelation about her brother did not in help. In fact, the news seemed to infuriate him into a rage, invigorating him enough to stay conscious even longer.
So they went for Plan B—Reece’s escape plan. They waited for the transport to be operational and then for an opening to take advantage of a weakened Daryl. The opportunity came when he moved equipment out of the transport, stumbled, and appeared to nearly pass out. Reece took advantage of the opening and kicked Murdock’s neuralizer off—giving him the chance to wrest control of the rifle from their Venusian Peacekeeper guardian.
Unfortunately, it did not go as planned and the ensuing struggle resulted in a shot being fired, hitting Murdock’s leg. Daryl tried to regain his faculties, but apparently the fatigue overcame him and he passed out, leaving it up to Reece and Laina to drag both wounded men into the transport and take off.
Now Reece had two injured passengers—one of them critically—and a testy Laina giving him an I-told-you-so attitude with a healthy dose of angry bitch to go with it.
“We’ll be lucky enough if we make it there at all,” Reece finally shot back. “This thing has the maneuverability of a space tug.”
“Then hail the Sea Wolf again!” Laina barked.
“I just did. They’re not responding.”
“Well… have they launched Wolf Squadron to greet us?”
“No—I don’t think so anyway. But they could be behind us right now with a finger in our ass and I wouldn’t know. This debris is blocking everything—can’t see shit, not even the Sea Wolf.”
“What stream are we on?” she asked.
“We’re approaching Stream Two—why?”
“Because according to protocol, Lieutenant—they won’t talk to us until we get farther in. Just get us past the streams—if you can manage not to fuck that up.”
Reece felt his face flush—he had to bite his tongue. “I’m working on it, honey. But if you don’t stop the yakking, I’m going to smash this thing into the nearest asteroid just so I don’t have to hear your sweet voice.”
She did not say anything in reply.
Reece turned his attention back to the visual ahead. He could see a thin stream of debris from Stream One curve out toward their destination: Stream Two. The rocks and junk propelled toward the second stream with what seemed to be only two possible destinies.
One destiny had Stream 1’s debris commingle with the debris from Stream 2, safely carrying it like passengers in a transit system, while the other destiny had the debris impacting against the traversing junk, creating a plume of destruction filled with dust and smaller rocks in its wake.
Reece hoped to avoid the latter destiny for himself.
He looked at the onboard timer—only a few more seconds.
“Better secure your patients, sweetheart,” Reece warned. “This is going to be the ride of your life.”
The juncture was rapidly approaching. Ahead, Stream 1 curved to his right, while a thin avenue rose up to his left as it entered Stream Two.
As he examined the tactical data, Reece envisioned in his mind the proper path the transport would take. The transport’s sensors did not have the proper calibration to detect the invisible gravity streams—however, by magnifying the image, he could visibly see the dust particles tug the edge of the stream, signifying its exit point.
He also saw continuously sporadic gaps in the line of debris, but it was constantly changing. He would need to make a decision on where to jump just as he reached the juncture—at the very last second. Reece gripped the controls—it would be any moment.
The timer went off.
Reece kicked the engines on, and pointed the transport at the proper trajectory. As expected, the ship began to buckle and vibrate from the force of the gravity stream fighting it. The memory of Tash’s initial cowboy attempt to enter the stream flashed in his mind—he would have to be a bit more surgical than that, especially in this tug.
As he fought the controls, Reece followed with his eyes an empty pocket where he could fit the ship. He would need to cut off the engines at the right moment, or he would not have enough inertia to get to the desired spot.
The transport wobbled to the edge of Stream One. He cut off the engines just as its nose cleared the stream. The ship stopped vibrating and the inertia carried it ahead to Stream Two. He used the rotational thrusters to maneuver the ship in, so that its most narrow point inserted itself without impacting against any surrounding debris. The transport buckled briefly as the gravity stream grabbed them. They were now surfing Stream Two.
He adjusted the timer for the final maneuver.
“We’re approaching Stream Three—almost home.”
Home? he thought to himself.
It had not been that long …Was he already seeing The Sea Wolf as his home?
In his former life, he had never even thought of Stromond’s as home—and he and the pilots worked for him far longer. So what was it about the Sea Wolf that made it different?
So far, the whole thing was far more than he had bargained for. They lost Tash and he was not even sure who was left. They were being chased by both the UEP and the Confed—and then there was Chorus, and their meeting at The Impact Crater. Could he really trust her? He did not know what to believe anymore.
Reece looked ahead and prepared himself—he needed to focus on what was coming up. The final bit of acrobatics would be the most dangerous. Streams Two and Three opposed each other. In order to escape the shower of debris, he would need to kick the engines on full power at the last moment where the gravity was at its weakest.
Clusters of debris, mostly composed of asteroids, flung toward each other from the two streams, resulting in a never-ending derby of destruction. Waves of debris flung out in all directions, pulsating outward from the two streams. He would need to follow the trajectory of the debris and avoid colliding with them as they ejected out into space.
Reece did not need to glance at the timer to know that he would need to make the move any second. He gripped the controls again and readied himself.
Again, the timer went off.
The opposing stream was dead ahead, and he was hurtling toward incoming debris. He was about to hit the throttle when he was distracted.
“How much longer!?” Laina yelled.
Reece’s hand hesitated for a split second, enough to throw his jump off.
The transport scraped against one of the outward flinging rocks, pushing them into a different trajectory. Reec
e tried to straighten the ship out, but they were twisting and turning out of control. The ship had no dynamic imaging, so he could not even see what they were flying toward—it was just a dizzying blur of space and rock.
Alarms on his console started going off. He struggled with the controls, but it seemed to only make things worse. He turned off propulsion and closed his eyes, anticipating the eventual fatal collision.
He stared into the dark of his closed eyelids, speaking into that place where his friends awaited him in the Milky Way Farm.
All right, Tash—better get my chair ready, he thought to himself. Drinks are on you, you cheap bastard.
The screeching sound of scraping metal resounded inside and an alarm sounded on his console. He expected it to end at any moment—but it did not come. The ship stopped vibrating and everything was silent. He opened his eyes.
The alarm on the console drew his attention to damage it detected on the outer hull—fortunately the inner hull was untouched. If the rocks had managed to penetrate farther, they would be venting their atmosphere into space, or worse—an implosion.
The outside image was stationary—just a view of the debris field around them. But they were not in a stream and did not appear to be drifting. He glanced at the tactical readouts—they were in fact completely stationary.
At that moment, a green-looking Laina popped up next to him.
“What happened?” she asked. From the look of her, the ride must have made her sick.
Reece just shook his head. “We’re not moving—we should be dead.”
“Obviously we are not,” she snipped. “Where are we?”
The navigation system showed them on the inner wall of the debris field, approximately seventy-three kilometers from the ship. Oddly, the sensors seemed to be picking up a lot more from this position. He was even able to see outside of the debris field and pick up detailed scans of distant space objects—all the way out to Earth and Mars.
“Not far from the Sea Wolf. We got real lucky.”
He reactivated the engines and started to apply throttle, but the ship shook violently and warning alarms began flashing.
Something had hold of them and they were not budging. He eased off on the throttle and the shaking stopped. Glancing at the navigation readouts, he saw they had not moved a single centimeter from their original position.
“What was that?” Laina asked, holding onto a handrail trying to steady herself.
“I don’t know—”
Reece was interrupted by a beep from the conference channel.
“Answer it,” Laina ordered.
Reece gritted his teeth. “Will you please stop that? You’re driving me crazy!”
Laina stepped back. “Stop what?”
“Hovering!” he growled.
Laina flung her hands in the air. “Whatever.”
Reece sighed, then acknowledged the signal.
“Unknown craft, identify yourself or you will be fired upon.”
It sounded like Ramey—he wondered why it wasn’t Jared.
“Ramey, this is Reece—with passengers and—”
“And Laina!” she put in.
“And Laina. We request assistance, we appear to be—stuck out here.”
There was a pause, then a familiar voice came on the conference channel.
“Reece! You’re alive!” It was Cronin. “We all thought you’d bought the farm!”
Reece smiled. “You won’t be getting my share of the plunder that easy, mate. Did everyone make it off the station?”
“Yeah, mostly,” Cronin said. “Eddie got hurt—lost his eye, but he’s alive. Mac is out on a solo mission. I think he’s fine, though. Glad you’re alive, friend.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Reece looked down at his sensors and could see Cronin’s Z-40 nearby.
“Not sure if you can see me,” Cronin said, “but I’m about twenty clicks off your starboard. It looks like you’re stuck in the Flytrap.”
“I can see you on sensors just fine—but Flytrap?”
“I don’t know, either,” Cronin said. “The captain just told me that what you’re stuck in is something they call the Flytrap. Part of the gravity anomaly—a spot that grabs you and won’t let go. Your engines won’t be able to free you from it.”
“This place is full of surprises,” Reece said. “Does this Flytrap have an effect on sensors? I’m getting really sharp readings from here.”
“Got me on that, mate. If it wasn’t for the Sea Wolf’s telemetry feed, I would never have been able to find you. They picked up your hails and fed me the coordinates.”
“This Flytrap might come in handy if we ever get into a scrap out here.”
“I’m sure this is all very interesting to you, boys,” Laina said. “But we have injured passengers here!”
Reece rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I almost forgot about your dying Ven friend.”
“Don’t forget about me, you asshole,” Murdock barked. “I got shot too!”
“All right,” Reece said. “Cronin, if we can’t get out with our engines, what do we do?”
“I have to lock a tow beam on you,” he said. “But I have to get in really close—and I can’t do that without getting sucked in myself.”
“So, what can I do from here?”
“Nothing, mate. Just buckle in and hold on tight. I have to do a high-speed flyby and lock a tow beam on you as I strafe by. It’s the only way for me to catch you without getting sucked into the trap.”
Reece looked back at the passengers. “You heard him, nurse. Get strapped in—we’re going for another ride.”
Laina, still green from the last ride, glowered at him. “You must really be enjoying this, you rogue.”
Reece suppressed a grin. “Oh, I would never.”
*****
Julius and Chorus walked down the corridor together. They were on the way to the flight deck to await Reece’s return. Random crew would ogle her as they walked by. At first, Julius tried to deflect their attention by glaring at them—but it soon got monotonous, plus she seemed to relish the attention anyway.
Julius had to laugh. Underneath the illusion of a woman, underneath the artificial flesh and blood created by the nanobots, she was a machine—the offspring of the A.I.
With the exception of Laina and Reece, none of the crew knew what she really was. To them she was a beautiful woman on a ship full of male rogues. He would need to keep her as much out of sight as possible to avoid any incidents.
“Okay, Chorus,” Julius spoke as they entered the elevator. “I need to know what it is you need from us.”
“My hackers need a place to work from,” she answered. “A private office on the ship.”
“I can arrange that—but what are they going to be doing in this office?”
“They will be using the Ocean,” she answered.
“Well I figured that,” Julius said. “But for what purpose?”
“To track down and locate my brother.”
Julius reached over to the elevator’s panel and stopped the motor. “Why? I thought the last thing you wanted was to find him?”
She turned to face him. At some point between walking the corridor, and entering the elevator, her appearance changed to something casual—a V-neck shirt, black full-length pants, boots, and short-cropped hair; it resembled the kind of attire a crew-member might wear—if they happened to be an attractive female.
“I need to know where he is,” she said. “He will continue his search to find me and I must prevent that outcome.”
Julius turned up an eyebrow. “Why? What would happen?”
The emerald glow of her eyes focused their attention to the ground for a moment—another seemingly human gesture. She returned her gaze to his and their eyes locked. The deep black of her pupils contrasted exotically with the emerald green that surrounded it. He had to keep reminding himself she was not human.
“If we w
ere to meet, devastation would be the outcome. Everything around us would suffer. I cannot let that happen.”
“What—like matter and anti-matter mixing or something?”
“Metaphorically speaking, yes.”
“Fine. Then how do you plan on stopping him? I need to know the details of your plan.”
She made a gesture with her hand, and the elevator motor resumed. “I will explain everything soon to you, Laina, Reece, and their passenger.”
She turned away from him and faced the elevator doors, standing impassively—in a somewhat robotic way.
“What passenger?” he asked her.
The doors opened and she stepped ahead without answering. Reluctantly, he followed and stepped in beside her as they walked onto the landing deck.
Ralph approached him and saluted. The chief’s eyes remained transfixed on Chorus, even as Julius completed his salute. It was not until Julius spoke that the chief dropped his hand.
“Report!” Julius barked.
Ralph blinked and straightened up.
“Sir—Cap’n! Reece’s steed is about to kick dirt off the deck. We got stretchers ready for ’em and medical’s been alert’d.”
“I want the doctor down here immediately to tend to the wounded. If their injuries are serious, then every second is going to count.”
Ralph blinked—a familiar expression of uncertainty from the chief that Julius had come to recognize.
“The doctor? Come down… here, Cap’n?”
“Is there a problem with that order, Chief?”
“Uhh, no, sir. It’s just—”
“I don’t care about his phobias,” Julius interrupted. “You get him down here at gunpoint if you have to.”
“Yes, sir!” Ralph gave a lopsided salute before running off.
“They are injured?” Chorus asked.
Julius cocked an eyebrow. “What, you don’t know? You knew about Laina and Reece—and this other passenger you just mentioned to me.”
Chorus stared off at the deck. “The future is always changing.”
“As long as it doesn’t repeat itself,” Julius said, “let it keep changing.”
The two walked up to the edge of the safe area of the landing deck. Beyond it lay the launch lanes. The landing deck itself was inside the dorsal hull of the ship, and extended all the way from its bow to the aft. It was the aft landing deck that crew utilized. From here, shuttles and fighters would land and launch from the Sea Wolf. The bow landing deck was never fully operational and was left unused.
Painted markings lined up and down each launch lane, designating their numbers—from one to thirteen. A tow-beam emitter sat at the beginning of each lane, assisting in both launches and landings. They now stood overlooking lane seven, where they could see the incoming transport penetrate the blue energy field at the far end.
Julius looked over to see crewmen arrive with stretchers. They were flanked by two of the doctor’s assistants—Doc Lankey was not among them. He beamed a look at Ralph, who tried to avoid his gaze by ducking his head inside the housing of a fighter’s engine compartment.
At that moment, Julius heard and felt the low hum of the tow beam emitter as it grabbed the incoming transport. Julius could see some ugly dents on the hull of the transport, marring the yellow and black Venusian paint job. The tow beam guided the ship down to a parking spot a couple of meters from him. The medical crew waited for the emitter to deactivate, and then they rushed ahead with the stretchers.
The transport door opened and he recognized the familiar figure of Wolf Squadron’s commander. Reece walked to the edge of the transport’s exit, scratching his beard. When he spotted Julius, he gave a weary smile.
Julius gave him a slap on the arm before Reece could bother to salute. “Welcome aboard,” he said.
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see this ship again—but I guess luck was on my side, eh, Captain?”
“More than you know,” Julius said.
Chorus stepped up from the rear and stood next to Julius. Reece seemed to catch sight of her for the first time, and his eyes went wide for a moment.
“You …” Reece said. “I wondered what happened to you.”
“Hello, Reece,” Chorus said. “I am sorry I could not help you directly, but my brother was near and I could not risk an entanglement.”
“Your brother?” Reece said, raising an eyebrow.
“Later,” Julius said.
At that moment, Julius heard a familiar voice—Laina. She was standing next to one of the hovering stretchers, yelling at the medical crew. He walked past Reece and as he went up to greet her, he caught sight of Murdock on the other stretcher.
Julius looked down at his old friend. “How is he?” he asked the medic.
“I’m fine, shithead,” Murdock said, the strength in his voice was encouraging. “Don’t worry, as long as this ship’s still running, I’m not dying.”
Julius smiled. “I’m more worried about the ship dying without you, not the other way around.”
“I think he’s going to be fine, sir,” one of the medics said. “We need to take him to Doc Lankey.”
Julius motioned them off and joined Laina, who was following the stretcher out of the transport. She gave him a quick glance—a worried expression on her face. She then returned her attention to the injured passenger.
“Glad to see you.” Julius tried to steal her gaze.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she responded. “Can you make sure these medics give him priority? He’s going to die if they don’t treat him quickly.”
Julius looked at the passenger—he was wearing a Venusian Peacekeeper uniform that was covered in blood from the waist down. His face was clean-shaven and pale white, with a smudge of blood on his cheek. Whoever he was, he doubted he was going to make it.
He gave the medic a questioning look; the crewman returned it with a slight shrug that confirmed his thought.
Laina’s eyes locked with his. Despite the ordeal she must have been through, her eyes had fire in them.
“You have to save him,” she said.
“Fine,” Julius said. “I’ll come along and make sure he’s given attention.”
The group made its way toward the far end of the landing deck and crowded into separate elevators. In the commotion, Julius lost sight of Chorus—she was not with them. He cursed.
“What’s wrong with you?” Laina asked him.
He did not answer. The elevators took them to the lowest deck of the ship, where the infirmary was located. When the doors opened, Julius rushed ahead of the group, heading directly to the infirmary, where he came upon a deck full of filled beds—the last attack had inflicted many casualties.
Julius caught site of Doc Lankey before he could dart away. The doctor gave a surprised look then trotted over to him.
“Captain!” he barked, then reached into his coat and pulled out a flicker pistol.
“Easy, Doc,” Julius cautioned.
He handed Julius the gun sideways. Julius cupped it with both hands and took it.
“Next time you send someone to threaten me—make sure it’s someone with quicker reflexes.”
Julius sighed and stuffed the gun into his jacket.
Lankey looked around wild-eyed. “Captain! Do you have any more?”
Julius motioned around. “What—this isn’t enough work for you?”
Lankey pointed a twitchy finger at one of the bunks.
“That one is almost totally recovered—and that one, just another day or two… and that one, well, that one shouldn’t even be here, but he loved the drugs so much—and I just couldn’t bear to see an empty bed so I kept him here longer. And that one over there—”
“Okay, Lankey!” Julius said. “I get it—you’re running out of patients. I have two more and—”
“Just two?” Lankey interrupted. “You know, you promised I would have plenty of patients to work with when I joined this crew.
”
The doctor got closer, flailing his arms in front of his face. Julius had to lean back a little to avoid being hit.
“And you know, it got okay for a while. I mean, I started to get some real work—organ replacements, neurosurgeries, facial reconstruction—but it’s just not consistent enough, damn it! Why, I had a whole week recently where all I had were some suturings and debridements!”
He began pacing in circles as he spoke.
“And most of the time, why, it’s all superficial injuries anyway! Hell, one of my junior assistants could probably handle this entire ward by himself with one arm and leg amputated! This is not what I signed up for! I need more work! If I could leave this room, I’d get off this ship and find more patients to treat! There’s probably a whole galaxy full of them out there—just waiting for me!”
Lankey suddenly stopped talking and gave Julius that crazed look. He put his hands on Julius’ shoulders. He had to fight the urge to rip the doctor’s arms out of their sockets.
“You need to take more chances out there, Captain! You know I’ll patch them up for you! I always do!”
Julius gently pushed him back. “Easy, Lankey! I have a critically injured one here with me.” He motioned to the stretcher with Laina’s patient.
Lankey abruptly brushed past Julius to the medics.
“Put him over there!” he barked at them. “And you—kick that asshole in bunk twenty out of here. He’s perfectly fine and he’s eating up all of my morphine. You—put that patient there and stick some tubes in him …”
Julius sighed and began walking out of the infirmary.
“Wait!” Laina stopped him. “Where are you going?”
Julius pointed toward the doctor. “He’s in good hands, whoever he is.”
“But—you should… stay,” Laina said. “I mean, he might die and …”
Julius felt his temper rising. “I got him to the doctor, Laina!” he yelled. “Now I have a ship to run!”
Feeling irritated, he began to walk away.
Laina stepped in front of him, putting her hands on his chest.
“Julius, there’s… something you should know and …” She fumbled for words.
Julius heard a commotion behind him.
“We’re losing him!” he heard one of the medics say. “Asystole!”
Glancing over, Julius could see them struggling with him.
“One milligram epinephrine,” Lankey directed. “Get the pressure back up. Fluids?”
“Working on it, Doctor.”
“How’s the cranial scan?” Lankey asked.
“Forty-percent and dropping—signs of hypoxia.”
Julius turned back to face Laina. “Sorry, don’t know who he is to you, or if he helped you escape—but it doesn’t sound like he’s going to make it.”
Laina stared at him expressionless.
“What was it you wanted to tell me?” Julius asked.
She dropped her hands to her sides and stepped back out of his way. “It’s okay,” she said sadly. “I’ll tell you another time—whenever it’s not so chaotic.”
Julius snorted. “I guess you can tell me when I’m dead then.”
He stepped past her and headed out to the elevator.