Dark Vengeance (20 page)

We both charged into the adjacent room hoping to catch it wounded and finish it, but the thing was nowhere in sight. Chasing it blindly was a bad idea. We needed to cut and run in case it was circling around for counterattack. I took off back the way I had come. I was faster than Ian at running away. We reentered the game room area and stood concealed in ready positions within the noisy machines. Ian looked over at me and shrugged. He held up five fingers, a count of tentacles sliced off. I nodded.

R.J. stammered, “I’m sorry guys, you hurt it but you didn’t damage it too badly. The cut tentacles began to reform after about a minute. For a while it went crazy from the injury, though. It was bouncing off the walls.”

I jerked my head down and cursed under my breath. Ian nodded his agreement.

R.J. continued. “The thing knows you’re out there now, that’s for sure. It’s being very careful. It goes wide around any doors. It’s crossed the concourse back to the west side to another section of stateroom. It’s going in a circle now like it’s not sure what to do. Maybe it’s still healing. At least it has some fear of you, I think.”

So now what? Did this mean the weapon wasn’t really effective and we had locked ourselves in this place with no real defense against the head hunter? We could hurt it but not kill it? Or maybe the tentacles weren’t the place. Maybe a cut to the main body was needed.

“It’s three rooms to your southwest, Adrian. It’s still agitated. It’s moving around much faster now. Wait… it just went through a door and it kept down low near the floor. It’s heading in your general direction. I think it’s begun looking for you guys.”

I used hand signals to suggest to Ian we hold our position and wait for it to find us so we could try the same attack again. He understood.

“It’s moving fast searching rooms on the west side now. There’s no way to tell where it will cross back over to your side.”

We held our position and kept our blades low. I suddenly realized there was a faint burning smell in the air probably from that first encounter. I listened intently for any sound of the thing.

R.J. voice became alarmed. “It’s crossing over, guys! It just shot across the concourse like a bullet! It’s entered the stateroom section adjacent to you. It’s following along a side wall again. It will be on Ian’s side of the room in a few seconds. It will pass by just opposite of Ian!”

Ian looked over at me and tipped his head as though pleased.

“It’s following along Ian’s wall. It’s slowed way down. It’s feeling the wall with its tentacles. I’ll count you down as it closes in. Ready, 3…2…”

As R.J. took a breath to say
one
, the thing caught us off guard. A tentacle emerged through the wall. It missed Ian’s head by a foot off to his right but before he could push away the tentacle found him and whipped around his neck like a noose. The suction cup tip stuck itself to the back his neck and began pumping. Ian stiffened like a man receiving an electric shock. His hands shook still holding his weapon. His big alien eyes were bulged nearly out of his head.

I lunged and sidestepped passed the open door, bringing my blade high and then down through the narrow space between Ian and the wall. It sliced through the tentacle, causing a new wave of hideous screeching from the next room. With my free hand, I pulled him away while still trying to guard the open door. Blood was spraying from the back of his neck.  He seemed to have regained some composure. I motioned him to run.

We ducked back into the game room, took cover behind a large machine and ended up shoulder to shoulder, backs against a wall once more. With each pulse of his heart, blood was still squirting from Ian’s neck. I tore a med pack from the leg of my suit and pasted it in place over the wound. It bonded instantly and pulled itself in tight. The bleeding stopped.

Ian switched hands with his weapon and reached around to feel the wound. He looked at the blood on his hand, tasted it on the tip of his tongue, then held it up for me to see. He smiled indignantly. I could tell he wanted to say, “First blood,” but dared not make the sound.

R.J. cut in. “How bad is Ian?”

Again with hand signals I asked him if maybe he should depart to the safe area of the ship. Immediately he looked insulted. For some odd reason it made me want to laugh, and he quickly picked up on that and smiled. Suddenly the two of us were truly in sync.

“It’s really pissed now, guys. It only went as far as the next stateroom area. It bounced off a couple walls like a child having a temper tantrum or something. It’s holding there, two rooms south of you.”

Ian began checking the back of his neck again with his free hand. I stood contemplating our next move. What would Wilson Mirtos, the best special ops man I knew, do in a situation like this? I could think of one thing. He was famous for using himself as bait so a second special ops soldier could strike from behind. In this case that would be very, very dangerous. On the other hand, I had a master’s level swordsman to back me up.

“It’s searching much more quickly now! But it’s screwing up. It keeps getting turned around, going south and running into the B-section pressure wall. It’s still only four rooms south of you. But it’s racing around like a bat out of hell!”

Good comparison
, I thought. I checked the area in that direction and motioned Ian to follow.

Daring passage one room further, I found what I had been hoping for. This section had been a stateroom and was half-filled by packing crates and luggage containers, perfect for concealment. The place smelled of expensive perfumes. One half of the area was wide open. Doors on each side were the only entrances. I could stand in just the right place out in the open, draw in our biggest fan and have Ian waiting out of sight behind. The only drawback would be that if things didn’t work out, no easy exit would be available.

Hand signals to Ian explained the plan. At first he looked skeptical and shook his head in doubt. But, it was not a time for debate. We hurried and found the best place for him to hide and strike.

I took my ready stance out in the open. There was no sense in waiting. I pinched the mike control on my throat and spoke. “R.J., if this all goes to hell would you see if they can open a door behind me really fast?”

“Adrian, what are you doing? The thing heard you. It’s heading your way!”

“You heard me R.J.!”

“It’s found you!”

And it had. No sooner had he yelled the warning than the thing came flying through the door on my left. It paused for just a split second and bolted straight at me.

I raised my blade to defend. The creature stopped just out of range. Its tentacles were dancing excitedly. Its angry, blue beady-eyed expression slowly changed to one of merriment, as though it knew I had no chance. It darted left. I followed slightly late with my blade. It darted right. Again I was a fraction too slow.

But it did not attack. It was now playing, showing me I had no chance. It seemed to need to know that I understood the hopelessness. It began tiny jumps around in place, feigning attacks at me.

Then, in a moment of dread, the look of merriment suddenly changed to one of absolute satisfaction. I could sense it drawing upon its energy in preparation for the kill.

But I had already beaten it in one respect. As expressive as its beady little eyes had been, my own expression had remained resolute and unchanged. I had given no clue that Ian was moving in from behind. I jerked slightly to one side to focus its attention.

Ian’s blade came slashing down from behind. The creature had been so intent on playing me it did not have a clue. Ian’s fire blade cut though the lower body of the thing from left to right, severing a fourth of one corner of its lower body. The amputated piece fell to the floor and flopped around like a fish out of water.

The Gaglion went wild. It shot straight up, smashed into the ceiling then crashed down hard into the floor. Ian’s quick blade missed chances at two more cuts. The thing began bouncing off walls like a pin ball. The screeching was so loud it could have pierced eardrums.

There was no chance to take any more swings at it. It was a wild, screaming animal. It flew out the door and its screaming faded in the distance. We retreated. Though I did not look back, I could feel Ian following close behind. We raced through the stateroom sections and back into the game room, crouching behind machines to catch our breath.

R.J. strained voice cut in. “Holy crap, that hurt it! It’s not healing like it did with the tentacles. The cut off piece evaporated on the floor but the thing is still missing a big chunk. It’s not hunting you. It’s in pain. It’s crossed the concourse again to the west side. It’s still banging around through different rooms and screaming.”

We could still hear it. I took a deep breath and looked at Ian. He was checking the wound on his neck again. I wondered how badly it was handicapping him. He noticed my stare, and nodded.

R.J. said, “So that’s it. If it doesn’t die from that wound, you should be able to kill it.”

R.J.’s comment stunned me. I had never heard him speak with such determined malice toward anything. Of the two of us, he had always been the pacifist, always decrying the evils of technology and war. He was such a devoted altruist it had always seemed likely he would rather die than bring harm to any other life form. Then I remembered another time when his desperate inner self had reared its ugly head. Oddly enough, it was a time when we had both been serving aboard the Electra, the ship we were to take possession of. We had been under a terrible attack by aliens who possessed suits of invisibility. They were collecting our crew and depositing them in a device that sucked the life out of their bodies to be absorbed by their people. We had trapped one of the aliens on a lower deck, and as we headed that way to capture the intruder, R.J. had suggested we open that compartment to space and let the alien suffocate instead of risking a confrontation. How do you turn a person devoted to peace into a killer? There is a tipping point where living with the knowledge that you did not try to save those you love is worse than the penalty of killing.

R.J.’s voice cut in once more. “It’s settling down, Adrian. It’s not bouncing off the walls anymore. It’s checking the wound with its tentacles, but there is still no regeneration taking place that we can see. I don’t think you’ll fool it again. It will be ready next time.”

I looked back at Ian for ideas. He answered with a shrug.

R.J. came back on. “Uh-oh! It’s on the move, you guys. It’s gone out into the concourse and is headed forward. It’s ignoring the staterooms. It’s traveling fast.”

I managed to look around just in time to see the thing speed past an open door on its way toward the front of the ship.

R.J. continued. “It’s at the A-section pressure wall! It’s looking for a way into the grand gallery! It seems to have lost interest in you guys.”

I hurriedly typed:

Need to draw it away from population. Can pressure doors be closed remotely?

“Yes, Adrian. All of those doors can be opened or closed manually, or by remote control.”

We draw it back you seal off sections.

R.J.’s voice cut in. “I understand, Adrian.”

I looked over at Ian. He nodded in agreement.

R.J. said, “You’ll have to go out into the concourse to pass though the each section’s pressure barriers. In the B and C sections we won’t always be able to see you or the creature. You’ll be running blind some of the way. If you really want to try it, click your transmit key once.”

I reached up and clicked my throat mike.

“Okay,” answered R.J. “Head back the way you came until you reach the B-section pressure wall. Then wait until I give you the all clear to step into the concourse.”

I clicked my mike.

We carefully wove our way back through three of the stateroom sections to where our previous ambush had been partially successful. Through an open door ahead I could see the ash red wall of the section-B pressure wall.

Before we could head that way R.J.’s voice cut back in. “Wait, wait! It’s moving. It’s in the concourse again headed your way. Stay right where you are. Maybe it will go aft on its own.”

We hid behind the same crates used for the ambush. Across the room, the engineers had belatedly created a new open door to the concourse, the escape route I had asked for. We crouched down with our burning blades out of sight near the floor and held our breath.

Unfortunately at that moment one of the ship’s automatic systems energized causing a thump somewhere nearby, loud enough to sound like a door closing. Ian looked at the floor and shook his head.

R.J. spoke in a low voice as though he feared the creature would hear. “Uh-oh! It’s stopped out there, midway in the concourse for some reason. It’s really close to you guys. Somehow it may know you’re around there. It’s drifting closer to your side of the concourse. It’s just north of you. It’s looking around. Wait! It’s passed you by and is going in the stateroom just south of you now. It’s being very careful.”

Through an open door we saw the Gaglion enter the next room. The creature’s merriment was gone. Bloodhound had taken its place. The thing continued to check its wound with a tentacle possibly hoping the piece would grow back. It turned and seemed to look our way. We both stiffened as it entered our area. I feared it would notice reflected light from our blades, but it became preoccupied with its injury again and paid no attention to its surroundings. It slowly disappeared through the next door. I dared to step out and lean aside just enough to see it continue away.