D'Mok Revival 1: Awakening (17 page)

He held up a hand stifling her, brow furrowed. “But they look like they’re destroying the ship instead of fixing it!”

She glanced behind him, then across the control panels. “Where’s an access port?”

Together they ran to an access port as she pulled the cord from her armguard. The end of the cord glistened like a ball of shiny modeling clay.

“What are you doing?” Mencari called after her.

As she inserted the malleable end, she said, “It reshapes into whatever connector type’s needed. And I’m waiting for a response from the computer core.”

Opening her hand, a holographic cube appeared. When she tossed it into the air, it exploded in a shower of light, re-forming into a computer interface. She closed her eyes. Within seconds, the men saw a small version of Toriko inside the holographic projection. Ujaku shook his head in wonder. “Still fulla surprises.”

“It’s my special holographic interface—complete with Mini-Toriko!”

Her virtual projection floated toward a gateway. As her avatar reached out to open it, a searing light exploded at her. The physical Toriko cried out as the light’s intensity pushed Mini-Toriko’s image back, away from the gateway.

“The control matrix is compromised,” she said.

A yellowish-green bubble surrounded her virtual body, blocking the searing light. Her tiny image pushed forward, driving forward into the gateway. As she passed through, before her, a virtual city of pathways, structures and various-colored creatures appeared.

“Toriko, what
is
all that?” Ujaku blurted. “Where did that city come from?”

A laugh emanated from a hidden speaker on her wrist. “It’s my system’s way of representing data, functions and access routes that are user-friendlier. Whatcha think?”

Ujaku nodded.

“Wow.” Mencari stared in amazement.

Behind Ujaku another panel blew, and the two men whirled around.

“What’s going on?” Mini-Toriko said.

“They hit the defense system. Maybe part of the engine controller too!” Ujaku blurted.

“Need to roll-back the control programs,” Mini-Toriko said from her virtual city, and the figure raced to an officially dressed robot behind a decorated booth. She quickly gained clearance, then moved deeper into the complex. As she approached the central building, they saw the same black growth as in the real world.

“Definitely a virus here,” Mini-Toriko said. “A nasty one.”

“How’d I get a virus?”

“Dunno,” she said, pressing on.

Deformed guardian robots immediately stalked toward Toriko’s avatar. Outmaneuvering them, she touched each one as she dodged their attacks. A white glimmer poured from where her fingers landed. The light burned away the shadow, restoring them to their original forms.

“
This
virus is mildly aggressive,” she said.

Mencari said, “That’s a good thing?”

“Could be worse.”

Mencari looked at the other panels of the ship, then at Ujaku. “You think your scanner still works?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Just want to make sure we’re still alone around here. Especially with your ship being crippled like this.”

“Good thinking.” Ujaku pointed to a panel next to the copilot’s seat.

Mencari made his way over and activated the system. “Nothing showing here,” he said a moment later. “So, we’re either fine, or about to get mobbed.”

They heard Mini-Toriko call out, “It’s definitely gotten into your main systems here.”

They made it back to the screen in time to see her projection shudder and disappear. Ujaku called out to her, but she didn’t reply.

The projection scrambled before filling with countless miniature versions of Toriko in various poses.

Ujaku said, “Hey, Toriko, are you—?”

The projected fragments pulled back together and a new glow surrounded Toriko’s avatar. “Okay, so it’s tough. I’ll give it that.”

She entered a virtual room and found it covered in gray filth. As she touched the infected systems, they burst with a cleansing light. Rather than disappearing, the dark flecks floated up and coalesced, reforming into the shapes of Toriko and her sister.

Ujaku gawked in disbelief. “Maro?”

The display began to glitch again as the virus attacked Toriko. They saw fragments of her dodging blasts and bladed arms.

“Tori, what can we do?” Ujaku said concerned.

“Nothing… Not…. Um, busy… now.”

The audio cut out, then engaged in the middle of a determined cry as Mini-Toriko appeared to unleash a blast toward the gray imposters. As it hit, the gray shattered away, leaving behind two cheerfully colorful robots.

“Are you okay?” Mencari called to her. “Toriko!”

Mini-Toriko’s projected body panted, “Yes. I’m fine. That should’ve done the trick.”

“What happened, Tori?” Ujaku asked.

“When those infected instances swarmed, they overwhelmed my system, but then I remembered a useful little hack.”

A few minutes passed while she tracked down and cleaned the last of the system infections. Satisfied, she returned through the doorway and back into the computer core before ending the projection.

The physical Toriko opened her eyes. “I’ve put up a barrier against that virus. You shouldn’t be infected again. But . . . that virus? I recognized it. Something Maro and I made for fun when we were kids. It had our digital signature on it.”

Ujaku said, “But how could it have gotten into my ship?”

Mencari answered for her. “If Maro gave the virus to the Nukari on Tericn . . . those mercenaries who attacked you must be working with the Nukari.”

Ujaku gave a low whistle. “Oh boy.”

“Who knows what they’ve done with Maro’s creations?” Toriko said. “But for them to even have this . . .”

She thought a moment. “This isn’t something you can just upload. Did those mercenaries come in contact with your ship when they attacked you?”

Ujaku shook his head. “I ran into them while in space flight. They never got that close.” His eyes widened in realization. “The computer did report torpedoes being fired. Then nothing happened. Well, there was a thud. That’s all.”

She nodded. “Then they must’ve gotten in through your outer access ports.”

The two followed her into the docking area. A moment’s inspection, and she found a spider-shaped object fastened over the computer access port.

“That’s how they did it,” she said. “They were waiting for the virus to start working. They—”

“They didn’t want to kill me. They wanted me alive for some reason.” Ujaku turned to Mencari with panicked eyes. “Maybe they just wanted my ship?”

“Maybe you
should
hang low for a while,” Mencari said. “Let’s get out of here before we have any more surprises.”

Ujaku sighed, and handed him two small cards. “Before I go, here’s the pass and license to the spaceway. We’ll need it in your ship now. ’Cause I guess I need a tow.”

Toriko prepared the two ships for the trip to the asteroid base. Soon they were headed back, each with their own thoughts about what the Nukari were capable of, each wondering how they could stop the Nukari when their enemy’s influence was apparently weeding its way into everything around them.

“Oh boy…” Toriko said.

“What?” Mencari asked concerned.

“Oh, nothing.”

She bit her lip, staring across multiple warning indicators as the ship began to its docking protocol.

“Seems more than nothing,” he said, fighting to keep the ship on course.

“Maybe stress from using the spaceway, or maybe something from the EM pulse and—”

The ship shuttered again, as they slid into the mining asteroid’ docking bay.

She squinted painfully. “Um. . . And I think the extra strain from towing Ujaku’s ship was maybe-kinda the last straw.”

The engines abruptly lost power as they approached the docking clamps. Emergency thrusters fired, throwing the tiny crew forward. The strain of metal echoed as the ship came to a complete halt. Toriko looked around, waiting in apprehension for the telltale hiss of a hull breach. When none came, she looked with relief at Mencari.

“Sorry.”

Mencari sighed. “Can you assess the ship for damage?”

“I . . . already did during the flight, when the warnings started coming on.” She nibbled on her lip as they unstrapped and headed out the airlock.

Ujaku was waiting, entertaining Spark on the walkway outside their ship. He seemed about to say something, then he saw Toriko’s baleful expression and opted to wait for later. Even Spark’s enthusiastic energy dampened.

“And?” Mencari prodded.

She hesitated, face pruning. “No more long-distance trips. I wouldn’t try to use the spaceway, either. At least not until I can get some parts replaced.”

“I don’t know if the credits I’ve earned can afford repairs for the ship, given all the other things we need.”

They continued into the base, entering the lift.

“I’d offer my ship, but it’s going to take a while for those nanites to get it back together,” Ujaku said.

“Maybe the nanites could work on Osuto’s ship too, now that the virus is gone?” Mencari said hopeful.

Toriko shrugged. “I could ask Maro. They’re similar to her creations. I was never good with nano-tech.”

Osuto gave a warm greeting as they entered the control panel. Seeing him, Toriko snapped her fingers. “Hey, what about that graveyard of ships you were talking about before?” she said. “It’s not far away, right? Couldn’t we check that out?”

Osuto looked to Toriko. “You’d have to leave the ship to go inside the graveyard. Do you feel ready for your own spacewalk?”

She nodded and gave a brave smile.

“You have other suits?” Ujaku asked. “I could help.”

Ujaku didn’t know about their abilities, Mencari realized. Toriko’s in particular were proving quite impressive. Osuto had just begun to help her explore them in more depth before the sudden trip to rescue Ujaku from the mercenaries.

Osuto turned to the newcomer. “Ujaku, why don’t you stay here. It will give me a chance to explain. . .
everything
.”

* * * * *

“Steady girl,” Toriko said, closely monitoring the ship’s strained systems as they plotted towards the ship graveyard.

Mencari knew that if they didn’t get the small miracle of a find, they could be in real trouble. In theory, the Coalition would be able to send parts. However, nothing had been heard from them in a while. Their recent silence made that scenario something he didn’t want to count on.

Mencari wondered if it was a mistake to bring Toriko here? He looked over at Spark. The cyber-dog was helping by attentively monitoring various ship’s displays. Mencari had to marvel at the young girl’s talent. Even if it was a bit inconsistent. It didn’t matter. She was here now, and involved. He could only hope for the best.

Mencari reviewed the steps Osuto had drilled Toriko on a few days earlier, showing her how to manifest her innate abilities, including how to form a protective shield.

“All set?” he said.

“This is totally weird.” She closed her eyes and focused. In moments a golden aura radiated around her.

“Good,” Mencari said.

Spark’s bark cheered her on. Toriko laughed, pleased, and nodded to her metallic companion. “Watch the systems for Mama, okay?”

With a playful pawing in the air, Spark dashed back to his seat.

“Just stay focused and all will be fine,” Mencari said, opening the airlock. When Toriko gave a thumbs-up sign, he gently nudged her into space.

She flailed a bit at first, but soon got the hang of it. “Hey, it’s not that hard.”

“Just go easy. And stay focused,” he warned.

They took things slow, floating together into open space. Even Mencari fought the feeling of vertigo while they moved from ship to ship, entering and looking for suitable replacement parts in the airless, abandoned vessels. Now and then, Toriko found useful items and placed them in a pouch on her side, which was soon bulging.

When they passed a field of debris, she stopped. “Oh my gosh!”

Mencari saw her sudden exuberance turn to panic when she generated far more motive force than intended, sending herself careening toward a large, dirt-covered ship . Her body stopped with a thud and stuck against the hard, unforgiving hull.

He flew over and helped her peel herself off. Her face shone red as she rubbed her temples. “Yech. Now I know how a bug on a windshield feels.”

He chuckled. “Flying in space takes some getting used to. I still have to think about what I’m doing.”

She looked back at the ship she’d just collided with. “Hey! Do you know what this is? A Mudulo X350 Ultra LE, that’s what!”

Mencari shrugged. “That means . . . what?

“It was a revolutionary ship design! Brilliant, but abandoned, like, fifty years ago. I don’t think what they replaced it with was all that.”

She floated around the hull, looking into every crevice. “I can’t believe they junked this. It looks in great shape!”

The doors opened only halfway before the last of the ship’s power bled away. Undeterred, she squeezed through and activated some portable lights fastened to her wrist guard. “Yep, it’s in amazing condition! Just out of power. I’m pretty sure I can fix it up.”

She thought a moment. “Towing it could be the problem. After Ujaku’s ship, another long tow might finish off Osuto’s for sure. But if we took it slow, I think we could get it back to base. We need to avoid using the electro-towing system.”

Mencari didn’t find the idea of being stuck in space appealing, but nodded. “We’ll need physical cabling, then. There should be plenty around here.”

They found more than they needed among the abandoned ships and other junk. With the two ships hobbled together by cables, they slowly headed back.

* * * * *

“Come on! Come on! It won’t take long!”

It was hard even for Seigie to decline Toriko’s excited invitation to see what days of dedication and labor had brought about. At first, Seigie had been put off by Toriko’s too-eager demeanor and her desire to inspect each and every crystal embedded in her skin. She’d done her best to avoid the young woman, either by staying at work in her lab or by continuing her solitary program of self-training in the mines. Yet at Osuto’s quiet command, she’d left her crystal lab and now strode on clomping, mineral-weighted feet to join the rest.

Amid gasps and
ohhhs
from the others, Mencari said, “Is that—?”

Toriko nodded gleefully, then motioned to Ujaku’s ship docked beside it. “I’ve figured the nanites out too. Well, mostly. Ujaku’s ship is not completely repaired yet, but it’s more than space worthy again.”

“Nice,” Seigie muttered. “Show over?”

“No!” Toriko squealed. “We need a maiden voyage. And you have to come, Seigie. I just know you’ll love the old ship. I mean, considering your age and all.
Really
smooth suspension system. They don’t make ’em like this anymore, for sure!”

The others hid grins. Seigie rolled her eyes. “I nearly have my crystal cultures set up, I’d rather—”

Osuto overruled her. “I need to stay here to keep an eye on things, Seigie. I’m still trying to re-establish contact with the Coalition. The rest of you should go.”

Seigie glared at him.

“Please?” Toriko said. “Just a short spin!”

With a sigh, Seigie muttered, “Fine. The faster we do this, the sooner we get back.”

Her feet stomped begrudgingly toward her mobile prison, and she heaved herself over the small gap between the dock and ship, pointedly moving to the seats farthest away from the front. She plopped down, grumbling, “Are we going, or what?”

Mencari noticed Osuto’s playful smile, which turned serious when he touched Mencari lightly on the arm and whispered, “Help Seigie understand that, at some point soon, you may need to rely on one another.”

“I appreciate that you always give me the easy jobs,” Mencari muttered back, grinning. He took the copilot spot next to Toriko. Spark bounded in, too, and snapped into the special harness Toriko had modeled after his docking bed.

The airlock closed, as Toriko reviewed the controls. A high-pitched whine filled the air as the engines charged. Holographic consoles projected before her as each system came online. She squirmed in her seat, her eyes twinkling.

In a sudden burst that would’ve startled Mencari right out of his seat had he not been strapped in, she threw her fist high above her and shouted, “Let’s go!”

“Yes, let’s do,” Seigie said. “I’ve got plenty to work on, and I
don’t
have time for long joy rides.”

Mencari looked over at her, and gently said
,
“Seigie, Toriko worked hard—”

“And I’m working hard on
other
things.” Seigie snorted. “This is why I liked my dark, quiet cave. No interruptions. Everything was nice and efficient. Structured.”

Mencari saw Toriko’s head tilted their way as Seigie’s rant continued. “Dealing with people? Well, that isn’t my forte. Some are easier to deal with than others. And that’s without
prolonged, forced
exposure.”

Toriko kept her eyes on the navigation console, checking the displays. “Seigie, I know you’re only doing this as a favor to Osuto. I’ll make sure it won’t take long.” She added in a cheerful tone, “So, where should we go?”

“Second star to the right, and on ‘til morning!” Mencari said.

Seigie lurched against her harness. “Wait! How long is this ride going to be?”

He grinned. “It’s just an old sailor’s expression, Seigie.” Then, to Toriko, “How long
is
this ride going to be?”

“I say we head toward Rigel 8,” she said. “We can test out the tunnel travel and get there fast. This baby’ll
fly
through a tunnel!”

Mencari’s head twisted toward her with curiosity. “Tunnel travel?”

“It was used before spaceways were around. Um . . . Like opening up your personal spaceway. Sort of.”

“Sounds like space folding—something the Coalition ships can do—” He stopped in mid-thought. “And, this tunnel travel works?”

“My simulations ran with a ninety percent or better success rate!”

“And that’s good?”

“‘Good enough to try,’ like my dad used to say! Ship: prepare for tunnel travel!”

On command, a tone rang out. The ship computer’s cheerful voice chirped back: “Affirmative, Captain Purg.”

The voice sounded suspiciously like Toriko’s.

Mencari glanced back to see Seigie’s face scrunch in disapproval. He just grinned and said, “Captain Purg?”

Her face flushed. She pressed a button, and her nose wrinkled as a stale odor blew about the cabin. “That smell’s just from the old elements left in the ship. It should still work just fine.”

Mencari held his nose. “What are
the old elements
for?”

“Er . . . something about buffering the impact of tunnel travel on our bodies.”

“Meaning?”

“So we don’t go ‘squish.’”

He shuddered. “I’d rather not go squish.”

“First stage complete,” the ship’s computer said. “Beginning tunnel travel preparation, Phase 2.”

Security panels emerged, sectioning off the craft.

Seigie was agitated. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Travel seals. Safety devices used to ensure hull integrity in the event of a compromise. A standard—fifty years ago.”

Mencari rapped on the one directly behind him. “Pretty solid. It’s hard to believe a ship like this was abandoned.”

Toriko shrugged. “I heard there was some problem with tunnel travel.”

Mencari and Seigie blurted simultaneously, “What kind of problem?”

Toriko laughed nervously. “Something about breaking up at high speeds. That was the other ten percent of my simulations. I’m sure it was overstated, though—”

“What?!” The cry echoed throughout the ship as the final panel sealed shut, isolating Seigie in the rear section.