Brynin 3 (3 page)

I gave her the standard message.

A slender, beautiful Dseo woman in a pearl-colored jacket, Ieeb—a somewhat tall female with thick lips and silver hair—sat down, stony faced. In a matter-of-fact tone, Dr. Pree talked about being assigned to Building 3, a dome that was part of the Rougt building complex. Her ID was valid. After she paid me, I sent her the ticket.

She grinned faintly, a forced gesture that lasted for less than a second. “See you soon,” Ieeb said, and left.

Was she unhappy about going to Danig, or something else? Well, it was none of my business.

Now I had enough money to repair ST7. I spoke into my tablet, telling a customer service representative where my ship was.

His voice came out of my earplugs. My order would arrive at ST7 in less than one hour.

After paying a deliveryman for my package, I entered the passenger compartment.

Yeliv peered at me, a sad look in his eyes.

“Did you find a job?” I asked.

“Possibly. During the face-to-face interview, Friw told me that Adiis Incorporated needs a residential architect, an experienced professional who knows a great deal about building apartments, dwellings that float above the Noq Ocean.

“Unfortunately, they want someone who speaks Aito fluently. If I knew more about that language, I could grasp the entire Frie and Arem Agreement, a six-year-old pact that the Aito and the Ulthe signed, and Adiis would hire me.”

“What does the
pact
say?”

“The Ulthe, an argumentative race, must compromise. The problem is that I don’t understand the rest of the agreement because it refers to Teiz and Eir, two Ulthe words that my software can’t translate.”

“You’ll figure out something. I think they’ll hire you. When are you going to hear from them?”

“In four days.”

“Do you have a place to live?”

“No.”

“Don’t you have any family or friends on Icir?”

“No.”

“I’ll be leaving Icir in a few days. You can sleep on ST Seven until then.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. Anyway, I have to leave for another job interview.” He started down the ramp.

“Best of luck,” I called after him.

“Thanks.”

I entered the hospital elevator.

Near the top of my screen, text popped up.
Nianda.
The short message indicated that she hadn’t sent me any emails or called since our last visit.

I went inside a room, and paused next to Nianda’s bed. I grinned. “You’re awake.”

“Yes. My chest hurts like hell, but I’m alive.” She smiled weakly.

I took her hand and squeezed it,.

“Thanks for coming by. I don’t know anybody on Icir. I feel so lonely. Seeing you makes me feel better.”

“I wish I could do more.”

“You saved my life. That’s enough.”

I told her why I had to leave Icir.

“I’m sorry to see you go, but I understand.”

A nurse entered the room. “Jason, she must rest now.”

“No problem.” I left.

Two days later, I returned to Nianda’s room. She was asleep.

A nurse entered and whispered, “She’s getting better. However, you should come back in about a week.”

I nodded and walked out, joyful that Nianda had beaten the odds, but sad because I might not ever return to Icir.

ST7 took off, and we flew over a six-hundred-foot diameter Glemal starship on our way out.

“Vren, I’m still worried about Youn.” I scowled.

He rubbed his neck, a tense look on his face. “So am I. I don’t think Youn knows what she’s doing.”

“I agree, but if we don’t take her to Danig, somebody else will.”

He shook his head, disgusted. “You’re right.

“By the way, did Yeliv ever find a job?” Vren asked.

“A temporary position. If Adiis likes him, he’ll go full time.”

“How is Nianda doing?”

I told him about my conversation with her.

“Are you going to keep in touch with Nianda?”

“I gave her my email address. Hopefully, Obno’s wireless networks are functional.”

Vren nodded.

Two days later, we passed a comet. Vren tapped the accelerometer, emphasizing his statement. “This is the fastest spacecraft I’ve ever been on!”

I grinned. “In twenty hours, we’ll reach six hundred thousand miles per hour, ninety-eight point six percent C.”

His eyes widened, impressed. “Yes.”

And right then a harsh unknown Ulthe male voice came out of my earplugs. “My name is Hast. Prepare to be boarded or else we’ll shoot a hole in your port side with a laser cannon.”

I flinched. “Understood.”

Were these pirates, somebody’s police, an invading army, or what? If they had laser cannons and could catch up to the ST7, I was in no position to argue with them.

At the top of a tan screen, the sixty-foot long Ulthe ship, a vessel with two delta-shaped wings, attached to a cylindrical hull, docked on my ship’s belly.

Near the top of a turquoise screen, my vessel’s passenger compartment hatch opened. A couple of Ulthe men in platinum-colored space suits stepped inside ST7, and pointed their guns at the passengers.

I stuck my hand over text.
Au.pil.on( )
. Autopilot switched on.

Vren and I left the bridge, hurrying toward the passenger compartment. As we reached it, one of the men in platinum suits aimed his pistol at my face.

He barked, “I’m Hast! Everyone must go inside my ship!”

I climbed inside the vessel, the first one in, and studied the dimly lit small room, the forward quarters, and I broke into a cold sweat, waiting for Hast to shoot me in the back. This didn’t look like any police vessel I knew.

I glanced over my shoulder as the passengers entered.

Behind everyone, in the back of the room, a hatch opened.

Another Ulthe, a stocky man with a scarred blue face, entered, his laser pistol raised. He squeezed the trigger—an orange beam hit Ieeb’s face.

She screamed and collapsed.

Blue-face pushed the barrel against Ieeb’s neck. He blurted, “You’re a beautiful woman. I’m going to shoot once and wait while you beg for mercy. Then I’ll rob you.” He smiled as his gun clicked. He pulled it away, then shot her in the jaw.

“Aooowwwww!” She dropped to her knees. A beam struck her neck. “Aoo! Please stop!”

Blue-face chuckled.

“Leave her alone!” Stio advanced, but blue-face pivoted. There was a flash of light, and Stio slapped his hand over his eye, falling to floor with a moan.

“A.opfive,” Blue-face snapped. A compartment door hatch slid open on the edge of the floor and he kicked Stio so that he rolled in. Along the edge of the floor, a compartment hatch slid open. He kicked Stio into the compartment.

“Somebody help me!” Stio wallowed there as the hatch closed.

On a wall-mounted screen, the bottom of the compartment opened. Stio reached out, trying to grab a handle. He was sucked outside, kicking frantically.

I clenched my fists, silently cursing the interplanetary conventions that kept civilians unarmed.

The other Ulthe, a man with sunken cheeks, started laughing. “Too bad.”

Hast aimed a gun at my chest. “I want your tablet. I’m going to withdraw all the money, then blast a hole in your skull.”

I glowered, then stuck one hand in my pocket, trying to get the device.

Blue-face shouted, “Everyone, give me your
tablets
!”

Vren flinched, but he didn’t say a word.

Another Ulthe male with auburn hair entered the room shouting, “Hast, did you get all the tablets?”

“Getting them.”

Youn started crying, “Please, don’t hurt me!”

Vren raised his hand. A stiletto blade popped out of his sleeve. He reached out, then slashed Hast’s throat.

As blood spurted, Hast tried to scream. He fired and barely missed Vren, then fell to the floor.

“Down!” I yelled to the passengers, dropping flat to the deck.

The Ulthe with auburn hair shot at Vren.

Vren ducked, incredibly fast. He yanked star-shaped photonic cable slicers out of his sleeve, and threw a slicer.

It struck auburn-hair’s forehead. He hollered, “Eeeee!” as blood gushed out, then collapsed.

Vren flung another one.

It struck sunken-cheek’s nose, knocking him backward.

Blue-face aimed, then fired.

The beam ricocheted off a facet, one of many protective shields on Vren’s spacesuit. Vren threw another slicer.

It struck Blue-face’s shoulder. He howled while ripping out the slicer, then sprinted away toward the front of the ship, leaving a trail of blood, and entered the next compartment.

I scrambled up and touched Hast’s neck. No pulse.

Vren stooped, and placed several fingers on sunken-cheek’s neck.

I grabbed Hast’s pistol, an LS5, then took off chasing Blue-face. I entered a dimly lit room and paused, searching.

Near the top of a server tiny lights, devices displaying meaningless information, kept pulsating. I didn’t see the Ulthe anywhere.

Behind me, beyond my peripheral vision, the sound of approaching boot-heels grew louder. I glanced over my shoulder, my adrenaline pumping,

Not far away, behind a waist-high telescope housing, Vren, a gun in hand, crouched, protecting himself. He whispered, “Jason, my slicers killed both Ulthe. I grabbed one’s LS Five.”

“Good work.” An LS5, a pistol with only two modes, kill and stun, wasn’t sophisticated. If it was in kill mode, you had to change the setting by hand. The weapon couldn’t do it automatically.

At the opposite end of the room, Blue-face peeked out from behind a spectrometer housing and fired.

The beam ricocheted off a facet on Vren’s suit, close to his neck. He flinched.

We jumped behind a chair. Both of us discharged our weapons.

The Ulthe dove behind a huge altimeter.

We fired. Our laser beams ricocheted off the device.

Our adversary peeked around the corner and sprinted away, toward the next compartment.

I ran after him, Vren behind me. I blurted, “Ey.exr.on.” My robotic left eye, which I hadn’t told anyone about, switched to extreme x-ray. I entered the next compartment, a poorly illuminated bridge.

Near the middle of the twenty-foot long room, a few inches behind a spectrometer housing, a humanoid silhouette—a poorly lit shape—stepped to the right. Because he was behind the spectrometer—equipment with thick carbon nanotube housing, a shield that made it difficult to see him clearly—I couldn’t tell if he was facing me, waiting for a chance to stick his head out and blast us.

And then blind luck stepped in. To my right, not far away, an asteroid hit the ship’s fuselage.

The impact knocked us off our feet and created a one-foot three-inch diameter hole.

Vren and I gripped wall-mounted cables as our feet were sucked toward the hole. Our helmets rose out of our collars. Then our face masks closed.

Near the edge of my screen, warning text flashed.
Docking Malfunction 2.
This Series Four craft had just pulled away from ST7!

The sucking noise became louder. Wanting to be heard, Vren’s shouted, his voice coming out of my earplugs. “Did the asteroid collision separate the ships?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps the Ulthe did it.” I crawled forward. As sweat poured down my forehead, Vren and I headed for the spectrometer housing. We went around it and paused, then looked around, searching for Blue-face, wondering why he hadn’t fired at us. Then we saw why.

At the other end of the room, our attacker sat in the pilot’s chair seat with its back to us. He peeked around the edge of it and shot at us.

Both of us jerked our heads down. The beam hit a nearby cable.

Next to the Ulthe, a pewter-colored robot, a CR with a pyramid-shaped head, a combat ready prototype with a body that was covered by rectangular shields, climbed out of the copilot’s seat and walked toward us.

We fired together.

Beams ricocheted off the CR’s head. The android kept going, then grabbed Vren’s throat.

Vren shouted, “Help me!”

I uttered a command, “Rotate.loopsixty.on.”

The CR’s arms, appendages with titanium muscles, began jerking, because I had just sent conflicting commands into the android’s hard drive. The CR and Vren fell to the floor.

Vren yelled, “Get him off!”

I shouted, “Nintwenty-two.on!” This command activated too many nanomotors inside the CR’s chest and arms. The CR’s hands began shaking uncontrollably. Soon he went into convulsions and let go of Vren.

A blast from Blue-face’s weapon hit my pistol. I dropped it, then dived to the floor after it.

As a beam hit the top of my helmet, I shot our adversary in the forehead.

He screamed and collapsed.

I jumped to my feet, then ran forward and plopped down in the pilot’s seat.

Outside the window, just over two miles from us, I saw the edge of an asteroid belt. If we didn’t turn starboard in a few minuteseconds, we’d smash into it.

I shoved my hand through 3D text.
Oyi.y.on( ).

A recorded warning, a translation, came out of my earplugs.
Improper command. Enter correct password.

I froze, stunned by the bad news. I couldn’t break through this firewall. It was impossible to steer this craft.

I stuck my hand inside 2D text
. Em.eir( ).

Another message came out of my earplugs.
Improper command. Need correct password.

I didn’t know which syntax to use.
Damn!

I glanced to the right as the CR sat up.

Vren shot it in the face.

The android crashed to the floor. Within seconds, it rose, moving fast.

Vren discharged his LS5.

A beam from it struck the CR’s leg. The robot toppled over on top of Vren. Both of them rolled over.

Vren sprang to his feet, then slashed the CR’s lower arm with his blade. He missed a thick cable, one that sent photonic messages to its hand.

The robot punched Vren’s chest.

He shouted, “Owww,” and fell down. As Vren raised one hand, trying to protect himself, the CR jumped on him. Then it punched his face. I shot the android in the back.