T'aafhal Legacy 1: Ghosts of Orion (36 page)

“It looks like a flock of sheep. And, look! There are two people running up the hill!”

“You're right! We may not have missed everyone after all.” Bobby slammed the throttle forward and the shuttle lept toward the foothills, racing above the oncoming blackness on the ground.

Bobby angled the shuttle to the north of the two fleeing shepherds, so they would not be harmed by the shuttle's powerful repulsors when he brought it to a hover in front of them.

“Cargo Hold, look alive back there,” Beth called to the Marines in the rear of the craft, “we have a couple of survivors.”

Without waiting for a response she unstrapped from the copilot's seat, telling Bobby, “I'm going to get into position. When we are on the ground drop the ramp.”

“I'm not going to land, that stuff is coming on too fast. I'm going to do a nose up hover and pop the ramp so it just touches the ground.”

“Right, I'll tell the others.” Beth headed aft at a run.

The shuttle approached the rocky ground at an alarming rate, triggering plaintive warnings from the collision alarms. At the last minute, Bobby pitched the shuttle's nose up to almost forty five degrees and decelerated cruelly. At the same time he slid the massive craft sideways, in front of the running settlers. Dust and lose stones flew from the heavy shuttle's repulsors, but away from the prospective survivors. With the tail less than ten meters from the ground, Bobby dropped the rear cargo ramp. It barely kissed the surface.

Concentrating on holding the shuttle's position, Bobby kept his hand on the main throttle, ready to catapult the vessel away from the surface if necessary. While Bobby fought to keep the shuttle's awkward hover stable the Marines moved down the extended ramp. The Gunny took the lead, moving to the very end of the ramp on the left. Kato hung back on the right side by the ramp's support strut. Between them ran Beth. 

Hills Above New Mecca

Running uphill in Paradise's heavier than Earth-normal gravity quickly had both girls breathing hard. Upon reaching bare rock, Shadi looked back over her shoulder to check on Dorri. Her sister was three meters behind her, laboring up the incline and almost free of the grass.

Looking at the sheep, still near where their shepherds had abandoned them, Shadi gasped. The flock had finally realized that they were in danger and tried to run after their human guardians. Too late. Ropey black sinews whipped around their plump bodies, wrapping them into struggling black bundles. The bundles quickly ceased their struggles and were absorbed into the growing black flood. The threads rushed on, up the slope after the last two humans on the planet.

“Run, Dorri, run!” Shadi urged her sister on. She then resumed her own uphill flight. 

Dorri didn't bother to reply, but she did increase her effort, running a bit faster now that she was on bare ground. As they struggled up the rocky slope a low thrumming sound swelled up around them. The sound became louder, to the point where it resonated in their chests, as a huge gray wedge of metal passed them on the left.

It pulled ahead of the running girls, rearing up like a motor cycle doing a wheelie. As it pitched up at a forty five degree angle a ramp opened in the shuttle's rear. As the bottom of the ramp touched the rocky hillside figures moved down it, standing at an odd angle to the planet's gravity. The first figure was a huge gray-black monster. Dorri screamed.

“Djin!” she shrieked, thinking the dark shapes were demons. 

“No, Dorri! It's a shuttle. They are trying to rescue us.” 

Before Dorri could reply a second figure appeared. This one was also large and gray but it was recognizable as some form of space suit. Within its transparent bubble helmet was the head of an African woman. She spoke to them in Arabic. 

“Yella, yella! Run and jump onto the ship!” 

Shadi turned and yelled to her sister.

“Jump up on the ramp, Dorri!”

The almost exhausted Dorri stumbled past her sister and with a final effort jumped onto the shuttle's extended ramp. The African woman grabbed her, pulled her up the ramp and passed her to another dark figure inside the ship.

Shadi felt an instant of relief as Dorri was whisked to safety.
Allah is merciful, we may live after all.
 

Then she looked back and saw black sinews reaching for her.

Shadi screamed.

Shuttle One, The Hills Above New Mecca

The shuttle's cargo ramp contained deck gravity plates that created a local gravity field normal to its surface. This meant that those standing on the ramp appeared to be standing at a forty five degree angle with respect to the ground. Whether this gave the approaching survivors any pause was not evident as the smaller of the two jumped for the ramp.

The young girl stumbled in the unexpected gravity shift. Beth grabbed her arm and half lifted, half drug her back into the cargo hold. She passed her living burden off to Kashi, waiting just off the ramp inside the hold. 

Turning back down the ramp Beth saw the second settler, also a young girl, facing away from the shuttle. The girl was screaming and immobile, frozen in fear. Beth ran, but she knew she was too far up the ramp to reach the girl in time. Beth yelled.

“No, damn it!” 

The Gunny was closest to the girl, standing almost on the end of the ramp. The lead Marine quickly sized up the situation—the First Officer was too far up the ramp to help and the black shit was already reaching out for the helpless girl. Rosey swore under her breath.

“Fuck it.”

Rosey jumped from the ramp to the rocky hillside below. She landed heavily on her left leg, flexing to absorb the force of the landing. In a single continuous motion, she swung her left arm wide, scooping up the paralyzed girl and throwing her bodily into the shuttle.

Beth was halfway back down the ramp when the second girl came flying on board. She managed to catch the second survivor as she saw with horror that the black threads had reached the Gunny.

Thrown off balance, Rosey rolled on the ground. Under the weight of the heavy armor she struggled awkwardly to her feet. Back upright, she managed a single step in the direction of the ramp.

“Bobby, punch it!” Beth cried, realizing that there was nothing they could do for the Gunny and that the ravenous black threads would be on board the shuttle in another instant.

Bobby, with reflexes faster than a mongoose, rammed the forward thrusters to full even before Beth had finished speaking his name. The shuttle jumped from the ground at the same forty five degree angle it had been hovering at. 

Beth held on to the second survivor, hugging the girl close to her armored chest. The view out the back of the shuttle's open cargo door showed the ground rapidly falling away. As the cargo ramp closed, a sea of roiling black threads seethed around the figure of Rosey Acuna.

The shuttle sped safely away, but the last thing Beth saw was burned into her mind—the Gunny's outstretched gauntleted hand, reaching out of the swarming blackness.

Bridge, Peggy Sue

“Peggy Sue, Shuttle One. We are headed for orbit with two, I repeat, two survivors from New Mecca.”

“Copy that, Shuttle One. Interrogative casualty count?”

There was a pause.

“One casualty, Gunny Acuna. She's missing and presumed dead.”

Oh dear God no! Rosey is like family.
The Captain's thoughts raced.
The crew will take this badly, not to mention the surviving Marines.
 

“Roger, Shuttle One. Be advised we are moving to intercept the Fortune, though there no longer seems to be any point in delaying them.”

“Captain,” said Doc White, who had come forward from the sick bay during the rescue operation, “tell them to put the survivors on pure oxygen for an hour or so. They have been under higher than normal atmospheric pressure for an extended period of time. Their tissues are probably saturated with nitrogen.”

“Right Doc. Shuttle One, the Doc says to put the survivors on pure oxygen, otherwise they might get the bends.”

“We copy, Peggy Sue. We will report in when we are in high orbit. Shuttle One, clear.” 

The Captain stood quietly for a moment, his face unreadable. He squinted momentarily and then sat down in the command chair, evidently having arrived at a decision.

“Helm, Lay in a course to pick up Shuttle One.” 

“Aye, aye, Captain.” 

Cargo Hold, ESS Fortune

Leon was still trying to cajole his wards into the large elevator at the center of the cargo hold. That lift ran up the ship's spine, all the way to the crew quarters just below the bridge. Frank was finished securing the shuttle for the trip home, shutting down its reactor and shifting all onboard systems over to external power from Fortune. He descended the airstair and was standing in the door of the airlock when he heard a scream. 

Looking to port, he saw another shuttle pilot, Steve Chu, running along the hold's perimeter. The man screamed again and then shouted.

“It melted him! It fuckin' melted Bell!”

Before Chu could clarify his statement a thin whip of black cord lashed out from behind him and encircled his legs. Chu went down as more threads engulfed him. In an instant he was gone and the threads shot forward, seeking new prey.

“Go!” Frank shouted to the party boarding the elevator. He ducked back inside the airlock hitting the emergency close button on the inside wall. The door slammed shut and Frank bolted up the airstair, retracting it behind him.

* * * * *

At the elevator, Leon was having trouble convincing Brother Abraham that he needed to talk with the Captain. Frank's warning cry, followed by the appearance of rapidly moving black threads from the far bulkhead convinced the three ex-colonists where Leon could not. They dove for the inside of the lift, cowering against the far wall of the car. Leon stepped inside and punched the up button. 

“Come on you recalcitrant piece of garbage, move,” he yelled at the door as it slid shut. The door slid home just in time, though banging and rasping sounds could be heard from outside. After an instant's hesitation, the car rose toward the bow of the ship. 

“God please spare me!” Abraham beseeched the almighty. “It is surely Lucifer who thirsts for my soul, who has pursued me even into space from that vile hell below.” 

“Brother Abraham, what are we to do?” wailed one of the young men who had also escaped death on the planet. 

Abraham ignored his followers and continued to beg God's forgiveness for his manifold sins. By the time the elevator deposited the four on the crew level, Leon was regretting not letting the blackness take the craven sycophant.

* * * * *

After sealing the shuttle's crew hatch Frank paused for a few moments to don a space suit. He didn't know if a suit would protect him against the ravaging black death but he figured it couldn't hurt. Making his way to the flight deck he began reversing the shutdown sequence he had finished only minutes earlier. Waiting for internal power to be restored, he transmitted a message in the clear over the open emergency channel.

“All personnel on board the ESS Fortune. Be advised that the black contagion that wiped out the planetary settlements is on board the ship. I say again, the contagion is on board the Fortune.”

After repeating the warning twice he got a reply from Fortune's bridge.

“Party broadcasting on the emergency frequency, please identify yourself, this is the ESS Fortune. Over.” 

“Fortune, Shuttle Bravo. This is Frank Hoenig, pilot in charge. That black crap just ate Chu as he was running away from shuttle bay three. I don't know if it got Leon and the three settlers we rescued or not.” 

“Shuttle Bravo, be advised that Leon and the survivors have made it to the bridge. What is your situation? Over.” 

“I'm locked inside the shuttle with the airlock doors all sealed.” 

“Did any of it get inside the shuttle?” 

“If it had we wouldn't be having this conversation.” 

“What would you suggest we do? Can you stay in the shuttle for the trip back to Earth?” 

“Plenty of air and water, but scant rations for a month. You're not planning on doing a transit back home with that shit in the hold are you?” 

“Affirmative, Shuttle Bravo. It is Captain Chakrabarti's intention to get underway immediately.” 

“You're crazy! The Fortune is not like a warship, with lots of separate airtight zones, its life support is all interconnected. The black crud will find its way to you before we get home. I suggest you get to the escape pods and abandon ship. I can pick you up in the shuttle later.” 

“And then what do we do?” 

Frank had no answer for the last question so he said nothing.

Chapter 26

Shuttle One, Paradise Orbit

Shadi and Dorri sat on uncomfortable canvas jump-seats with breathing masks over their noses and mouths. The African woman who had helped rescue them disappeared right after they left the surface of the planet and none of the others had tried to talk to them except for another African, a man in a bubble helmeted suit like the woman wore. He got them seated and strapped in and pantomimed breathing through the masks they now had on their faces.