Goliath, p.18
Goliath, page 18
Drefus appeared at the entrance, pausing to look around the chamber before stepping inside. He didn’t see Singh, who had quickly withdrawn his head the instant the prefect appeared. Smiling to himself Drefus toured the chamber, lifting a hand to stroke the underside of one of the turbines. He watched the glittering filaments for a moment before moving away, settling himself beside the shrine. He nodded to the old heretic, who paid him as much attention as he had Singh.
His mind aflame with questions Singh stared at the prefect’s back. He couldn’t understand why the man would come here. This was a heretic haven, a place diametrically opposed to everything the prefect stood for. It made no sense. What was he doing?
Singh jumped, his pager going off in his pocket. Swearing he pulled out the slim device and silenced it quickly, even though there was no possibility of anyone hearing it whatsoever. If it hadn’t been set to vibrate he wouldn’t have known it had been activated himself. He read the neat LCD lettering on the screen quickly.
You are needed immediately. Come to my office. Drefus.
“What?” Singh mouthed, the words lost in the cacophony. He peered around the stack of brochures again, if only to assure himself the prefect was still there. He was. The man had not moved. “Bloody hell.” He must have left instructions with his secretary to summon Singh at a predetermined time.
Still, it was not something he could ignore.
Sweat breaking out on his brow Singh studied his route out of the chamber. There was simply no way he could escape without Drefus seeing him. Cursing silently he sidled forwards, trying to see what the prefect was doing. He would have to wait until the man left before making his escape.
With a smile on his lips, Drefus leaned forwards, moving his mouth to within centimetres of the AI’s communications port. He spoke, the words lost in the noise. Situated where he was Singh could easily read his lips.
“We have found him.”
The screaming stopped.
Chapter Sixteen
“Shit, it’s dark, Boss.” Marco leaned over the edge of the walkway and looked down, shining his light into the gloom below. He cleared his throat noisily to gather spit and then lobbed it over. He watched the glob vanish below. “Fuck me.”
Sollander wrinkled her nose in distaste but said nothing. She was impatient to be moving, her two companions were taking far too much time. They had a long way to go yet, and there was a limit to how much time she could spend in orbit before someone started asking questions.
After two hours of trudging through total darkness, they had found no trace of the first mission. All the doors they had passed, each armoured and at least twenty centimetres thick, stood open, slid back into their bulkhead recesses. It felt wrong somehow. This was a warship, designed to resist boarders, yet here it stood, open and inviting. Perhaps the vaunted Confederate Navy had not been quite so diligent after all.
They had discovered their second body within minutes of leaving the staging area. A young woman, collapsed forward on her face as if her death had come as a surprise. Her uniform was still crisp and neatly ironed, as if she had died just yesterday. Her skin was a different matter. Desiccated after decades in the dry, musty atmosphere her skin had contracted over her bones, revealing time yellowed teeth and staring eyes. She didn’t smell any more, that indignity had passed a long time ago.
After that the bodies were a regular occurrence. They were scattered up and down the passages, most simply collapsed where they had stood. Others had fallen behind marine checkpoints, their weapons scattered on the deck. Marco spent some time examining the weapons, hoping they could be pressed into service. A fruitless exercise. Whatever their power source it had dissipated a long time ago, leaving the weapons dead. Sollander warned the shorter Smithy twin of the possibility of radiation contamination, should the weapons’ containment systems be fractured, but he simply waved away the concern.
There were signs of battle here and there. Score marks on the bulkheads or ceiling, the odd pockmark from projectile weapons. Some were associated with bodies, a marine collapsed on the deck, her body shattered from the horrendous attack she had suffered. Another still clinging to his chaingun, most of his upper body seared by the impact of a plasma bolt. Whatever had happened aboard the Goliath it was neither consensual nor unanimous.
Two hours after leaving the staging area they entered into some kind of storage facility. Freight Containment 4B (Delta) was inscribed on the entrance. None the wiser the three ventured inside, the passage leading out onto a suspended walkway over a gaping chasm.
“Just don’t fall off the edge,” Davido warned. “Who ever heard of a walkway without a railing? They not heard about the Health and Safety Directorate?”
“Probably not,” Sollander commented. “Besides, there probably are, you just can’t see them.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “Well, they liked playing with force fields, didn’t they?”
“Of course. Still, keep away from the edge, Marco. The force fields won’t be switched on today.”
“What bloody stupid idea is that?” Marco groused, carefully positioning himself in the centre of the walkway.
“Defensive feature,” Sollander commented, before turning and heading on. “It would be good if we could find a shortcut to the bottom of this bay.”
“Yeah.” Davido contemplated the darkness below. He cupped his hands. “Sissy!”
Marco jumped. “Shit, Boss.”
Davido shouted again.
Grimacing Sollander stopped and turned around. “That might not be such a good idea.”
“Why not?” He took a deep breath. “Sissy!”
She rolled her eyes. “You remember the dead bodies?”
“You keep on telling me this ship is dead. There’s no one here. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Well...” she hesitated. “We must keep our minds open. Members of the previous mission were obviously killed, and from all appearances it was by something on this ship. Until we know more we need to be a little... circumspect.”
“Bloody hell. That’s not what you said earlier.”
“No, it wasn’t,” she conceded. "In all likelihood the girl was killed by one of the shuttle crew. We had to be somewhat liberal with our recruitment criteria." She shrugged. More than one of them had an interesting past. "But we just don't know."
“Don’t tell me, you were just disagreeing with Prentice.”
Even in the light of the torches it was clear to see Sollander’s face suffuse with blood. It was true, she had to admit to herself. There was something about that woman that rubbed her the wrong way. As illogical as it was, she couldn’t resist it. Still, she had been hoping no one had noticed. That Davido had was embarrassing.
“Let’s just keep moving.”
Davido laughed. “Hey, she’s available, you know. Although Sash might fight you for her.”
“She the one with the dragon?”
“Yeah. Cool, aint it? Be careful, she’s ex militia.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
Davido shrugged and turned away from her. “Sissy!” he yelled again.
“For fuck’s sake, would you quit that?” Sollander snapped.
“Unless you’ve forgotten, the reason we’re here is to rescue my sister.” He took another deep breath.
“Bloody don’t!” Sollander warned him.
“Hey, I've got a gun.” Davido patted the shotgun strung over his shoulder. “Good luck to anyone who tries to get in my way. Remember, the last mission wasn't armed.”
“I don’t think it would have made any difference.” Sollander shuddered, remembering the frenzied swirl of blood left outside the airlock door. There was something aboard this ship that killed the unwary.
“Hey, I’m with you, Boss. Sissy!” Marco shouted into the silent darkness.
Muttering Sollander turned her back on them and kept walking. She neared the edge and looked down, trying to discern any shapes below. It would help if they could make it to the floor of the bay. So far they had come across no means of descending to the lower levels, although there was bound to be one here somewhere.
She shuddered, disturbed by the feeling that they were being watched from somewhere out there in the darkness. She shone her lamp towards the walls, but of course she could see nothing. They were simply too far away.
“Dammit, come on will you?”
“In a rush or something?” Davido joined her.
“We have a long way to go.”
His shrug was lost in the gloom. “They could be nearby. There’s no point getting lost in this thing if we can help it.”
“Their mission was to go to the vessel’s bridge and investigate the possibility of reigniting its attitude controls. At least manually. Then they were to check on mains power, to see if it could be restarted.”
“Dangerous that, isn’t it? I mean, the Syat shut this thing down for a reason.”
"I have reliable information that the Syat never boarded this ship. Besides, they weren’t going to bring the AI... the demon back on line. The ship's human crew pulled the hard line on that, it’s beyond redemption. Anyway, my point is that you are more likely to find your sister near the bridge or in the engineering spaces. That was their objective, that was where they were headed.”
“Clearly the mission was scrubbed,” Davido commented. “Or hadn’t you noticed it wasn’t very successful?”
“If there was any problem with the mission, they were all to make their way to the bridge and wait there. That was their standing instruction. It’s a long way from here, but it’s central and its the easiest compartment to find.”
“That puts a different spin on things. Would have been worth mentioning that earlier. So, you know this thing’s layout then?” Davido headed off down the walkway, not waiting for his two companions to follow.
“Somewhat. There are several other warships in the Parking Lot. No one’s been aboard them but two of them were severely damaged and their internal spaces are exposed. We can get a half decent view of their cross sections. As these things all followed a similar pattern we can deduce the layout of the Goliath.”
“Oh, lovely. So we’re navigating by guesswork.” Davido grimaced. “OK, so what’s this supposed to be then?” He waved his own lamp about the blackness surrounding them.
“Guesswork is better than nothing, I think?” She paused. “I’d say some sort of cargo bay. They’d have several of these scattered about their internal structure. These ships are big, they certainly have the room. During the war with the Shoei they engaged in blockade busting, shipping supplies to besieged colonies. That didn’t happen in the conflict with the Syat.”
“Sounds a bit odd to me.”
Sollander said nothing.
“There would be an airlock on this then, wouldn’t there?” Marco asked.
“Sure. A pretty large one.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“Is it?” Davido asked.
“Yeah, well. If we get stuck here, they would have shuttles and shit in some kind of landing bay. We could hotwire one and get out of here.”
“Why would we need to do that?” Davido glanced towards him, wondering what had brought on this line of thought.
“Well, we’ve not heard from the shuttle in a while. Something might have happened to them.”
Davido laughed. “You think Jeno will try something? I’d not rate his chances against Adele, would you? She’d kick his ass.”
Marco chuckled. “Right you are, Boss. She’s a feisty one.”
“Don’t forget, the first group didn't manage to hotwire... as you put it, a shuttle and escape. And there were some good engineers on that crew,” Sollander observed.
“That’s why I’m thankful we have the best with us,” Davido remarked. “If anyone can do it, you can.”
“Your confidence in me makes me feel warm all over.”
“Sarky bitch.”
“Oh, shit.” Sollander stopped mid stride, almost losing her balance and falling forwards. She had opted to keep her pressure suit on for the extra protection it offered. The breastplate put her slightly off balance. Sudden stops were not recommended.
“What the hell?” Davido peered over the drop that had just presented itself to them. “Force fields, you’re gonna tell me?”
The walkway came to an abrupt end; its end balanced on nothing buy inky darkness. There was no indication as to what travellers were supposed to do next.
“No, I wouldn’t have thought they’d expect people to walk on force fields. For one their surface has zero friction, so you’d go flying right off it. It wouldn’t be good for anyone with vertigo either.”
“And this is?” Marco waved towards the completely absent railings.
“So, where’s the rest of it then?” Davido demanded.
“It could have sheared off,” Sollander said as she knelt carefully. Not an easy task in the pressure suit. She placed one hand—the suit gloves were clipped to her belt—against the end and felt the shape of it carefully. “Remember, the ship has taken some damage. We should expect this.”
“So? Is that what this is? Do we have to turn around now?” Davido asked. He didn’t relish the thought. They hadn’t passed a side passage for some time.
“No. No. I don’t think so. The edge is too smooth. It was made like this.”
“Genius. So, now what?”
“Well,” Sollander stood carefully, wary of the drop before her, “they may have retracted the rest of the walkway. It might have been in the way when they were moving freight about.”
“Doesn’t help us. How’d we get it back into place?”
“It’s a long walk back, Boss,” Marco said.
“Well, maybe not,” Sollander said, studying the darkness below them carefully. “It can’t be that far to the bottom.”
“Planning to jump are you?” Davido suggested.
Sollander ignored him, unclipping a pouch from her utility belt. She slipped out a simple reel mechanism and attached it to the belt. “I have a hundred and fifty metres here. It can’t be further than that.”
“How far is it from here to the core?” Davido asked.
She shrugged, the gesture all but lost in the bulky suit. “One... one and a half kilometres. Thereabouts.”
“So, I think the answer is, yes it bloody well can be further than that.”
He could hear the impatience in her response. “This bay won’t be that big. It can’t be, it would represent a breach in their defences.”
“I can give it a try, Boss,” Marco offered. “Where’d you get that from?” He flashed his lamp towards the reel.
“I came prepared,” was all she said. “This is monofilament; it’ll take our weight quite easily. It’s also motorised.”
“Great, so what’re you going to attach it to?” Davido asked.
“Me, I guess. You’ll have to help.”
Davido hesitated, peering over the edge himself. “Shit,” he said. “And what if we do get Marco down there? Then what? How’re we going to join him? And how will we get back up again?”
“We need to expand our options,” Sollander said. “Currently we have two. Stand here shouting, or go back the way we came. Which would you prefer?”
“Shit.”
“Exactly.”
“All right, let’s get going,” Marco said with false bravado.
They checked radios quickly as Sollander strung the harness about Marco. “Now, be careful not to touch the filament, no matter what happens. It will take your fingers off.”
“Lovely,” he muttered. “You sure this will hold?”
“Absolutely."
Not looking too pleased with the notion, Marco allowed himself to be manoeuvred into position, his back to the edge. He eased himself over it as Sollander and Davido took his weight.
“Don’t take this personally, darling,” Davido said as he braced himself against the engineer, stopping her from sliding after Marco. Under different circumstances he would have found this quite arousing. He had to admit, she was an attractive woman. Too combative by half though, he considered. Not too unlike another woman he knew.
“Damn, I need a drink.”
Careful to keep his hands away from the filament Marco spun wildly beneath the walkway, the filament humming as his weight bore down on it. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about the blackness beneath him.
“You’ll need to tell us when you hit something,” Sollander said.
“I’ll be sure to let you know,” Marco responded.
The dim light cast by the lamps above the walkway receded as he dropped swiftly into darkness, his spin slowing and then reversing as the filament untwisted itself. Taking his mind off it he started counting slowly.
“You ok down there?” Davido asked.
“Sure, Boss. No problem.”
“You should be getting close to the bottom now,” Sollander said.
“How’d you know that?”
