Fluency (17 page)

These slug creatures were originally native to Sectilia’s moon, Atielle. After the two cultures integrated, some of the creatures were inadvertently transferred to the planet. The population e
xploded—like rabbits in the Australian Outback. Without a natural predator, they multiplied out of control.  A highly adaptable species, they filled many new niches and interbred with similar terrestrial fauna until their genetics were quite different from the original, moon-based creature.

When this newly hybridized creature was reintroduced to its native habitat, new characteristics were unmasked. Atielle, as one of several moons orbiting such a large planet, was extremely ge
ologically active. The annual cycles of tectonic and tidal activity influenced by Sectilia’s gravitational fields resulted in a localized volcanic emission of xenon gas. The gas, normally present in Atielle’s atmosphere in low percentages, became quite concentrated, triggering a transformation. The formerly benign species became a dangerous predator: the nepatrox.

All of this was new information to Ei’Brai. Normally, the slug population was not his concern. He didn’t bother himself with tri
vialities that had no effect on him. Perhaps this was common knowledge among the Sectilius who inhabited the ship—so common, it wasn’t necessary to discuss it.

It was the leak
…the xenon gas…that had set this in motion. The despicable part was that it hadn’t been accidental. There had been a leak of xenon gas, but it’d been minor. Ei’Brai augmented it, purposefully, for effect—to create a scenario that would push her to be dependent on his help so that he could demonstrate his power and ultimately gain her trust.

He’d tried to hide that from her. It had been but a momentary lapse in his control of the information she received from him. But she’d seen it. And it changed everything.

A painful, tingly sensation rioted from her core outwards. Her face felt hot. Her ears burned. Why did he think he needed to force anything by manufacturing a situation? Why couldn’t he just have given her the time she needed to adjust to communicating with him?

He’d wanted her to learn to trust him. But he hadn’t trusted or respected her at all, had he? He could have killed Alan or Walsh, or both, with that gas. She could never have forgiven that. And what he’d started wasn’t over yet. There were still plenty of oppo
rtunities to die from the reckless choice Ei’Brai had made. Jane stood there, stunned.
Walsh was right all along.
 

Ei’Brai inundated her thoughts with apologies, contrition. He begged her to see his desperate need, reminded her of the bigger picture—the Sectilius goal, the Cunabula and the hope humanity could provide to the uncounted centillions of species in the un
iverse. It was a torrent of ingratiation and regret. She wanted none of it.

“Neu!” she cried aloud.

She came to herself abruptly with the others gathering around her. She closed her eyes and stood stock still, raging silently,
Get out of my head, goddamn you!

All at once, he withdrew. She rocked on her heels as she felt him slip away. She was completely alone inside her head for the first time since they docked with the ship. The hum had gone s
ilent. Not even a tingle at the back of her mind was left. She felt surprisingly empty. Now, in his absence, she could see that he’d infiltrated her mind so completely, she’d begun to feel normal with him there.

It was a relief. And it was lonely. That was disconcerting.

Walsh nudged her roughly. “Quit stalling, Holloway. Keep moving.”

Alan pulled her away from Walsh, propelling her forward again. Before he could query her about what just happened, she whispered, “Do you still have a weapon?”

He nodded slowly, looking confused and uncomfortable. “In my pack. Jane, I did fine at the shooting range, but I’m no match for Walsh.”

She put a hand on his arm, squeezing, and darted a look back. “I
…no, no. Walsh is right—I think we should go. I’m just worried we aren’t going to make—”

She froze. Something had moved in her peripheral vision.

15

A preternatural feeling of dread washed over Jane. She felt a strong urge to run, but logic told her that was a bad choice. She turned slowly, peering into the shadows around them, instinctively looking for a place to hide.

They’d covered several hundred feet since they left the deck-to-deck transport, but there were no doors in the immediate vicinity. They’d passed one just a minute or two before, but in the dark, without the connection to Ei’Brai guiding her through the mental maps of the ship, it was difficult to guess how far away that had been or how close another one might be.

Oh, God, turn on the lights, Ei’Brai,
she thought, but he was no longer listening. Banishing Ei’Brai from her thoughts no longer seemed like the most sensible decision.

“Holloway—”

“Sh!” Jane sent Walsh a quelling look.

Something scuttled in the dark nearby.

“What…was that?” Ajaya whispered, her eyes gone wide.

Jane put her hand over Alan’s, steering the flashlight to one side. A creature the size of a house cat stood there watching them.
It was hard to tell what it was, exactly. It didn’t precisely fit into any category Jane knew. The nepatrox had a maroon, segmented shell like a lobster or scorpion, but its head grew from its trunk more like a fish. It whipped an ominous-looking barbed tail around, as though agitated.

It crouched and opened its mouth. A hinge on each side unfol
ded, revealing fuchsia and coral-colored flaps as well as rows of jagged teeth. It hissed defiantly and took a few steps forward.

“Holy fuck, what next?” Bergen muttered.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Walsh grit out.

Ajaya spoke softly, “It hatched, didn’t it Jane? From the pupa.”

Jane nodded gravely. “Yes.”

Gibbs’ voice sounded mildly disturbed. “That little dude looks pissed.”

Ajaya said, “It looks like an arthropod of some sort. It appears to be territorial. Will it attack if we go further, I wonder?”

“I think it will,” Jane said. “This is what I was trying to warn you about. We should go back. The deck above this one stores Sectilius battle armor. We need to protect ourselves.”

“From that little thing?” Walsh said dismissively.

Ajaya frowned. “Some of the pupa are quite large, Comman
der.”

“Then let’s get going before they hatch. Move,” Walsh barked.

No one budged.

Gibbs spoke up, “Maybe Jane’s got the right idea. There might be a lot more of these things. They’re going to be hungry, don’t you think? What are they going to eat?”

The nepatrox advanced, hissing and slashing at the air in spirals with its tail. It was closest to Jane. She backed up involuntarily, bumping into Alan. He put a hand on her shoulder and tried to push her behind him. She resisted his gentle shove and stayed put, noting that motion of any kind seemed to enflame the creature’s temper. But even that subtle movement antagonized it. It lunged forward, hissing, clacking its teeth together rhythmically, flaring and pulsing the bizarre, hinged flaps that framed its mouth.

“What else do you know about these creatures, Jane?” Ajaya asked.

Jane felt Alan’s hand on her shoulder, tensing as the nepatrox crept closer.

“They’re extremely aggressive. The stinger contains a paraly
tic. They prefer to eat their food while it’s still alive.”

Walsh glared at them with disdain. “I’ve seen rats bigger than that thing.” He shrugged off his breathing harness and gripped the strap at the top of the tank, moving deliberately toward the cre
ature.

It held its ground, front claws prancing like an excited dog. The rhythmic gnashing and flapping escalated. It charged.

Walsh was ready. He swung the tank of compressed air like a golf club, striking the animal with a solid whump, sending it flying. It hit the wall and slid to the floor, lifeless.

Jane’s stomach turned over.

“Well, there’s a strategy for you,” Alan said dryly.

Walsh turned and glowered at them. “All right? Move out.”

“Ah, Walsh, you’ve got another little friend,” Gibbs said nervously, gesturing down the hall with his flashlight, revealing another creature emerging from the darkness.

Walsh’s eyebrows came down into a thunderous expression and he pivoted. Alan lifted his light a little higher, to join Gibbs’. Jane gasped. There were actually several creatures approaching Walsh’s location.

One of them was the size of a full-grown labrador retriever. It opened it’s hinged jaw, flaring the winged flaps to a span of three to four feet, then turned and scooped up one of the smaller creatures, choking it down before the thing could even struggle. It flared and pulsed its mouth flaps, letting out a shrieking cry.

The call was taken up by those around it
. The chilling sound echoed and was answered again and again from farther and farther back down the hall.

The blood drained from Jane’s head. She felt lightheaded and cold. Her heart thudded and her muscles tensed to run.

The largest nepatrox regarded Walsh intently, its dark eyes gleaming with hunger, its tail swinging in long lazy arcs. It hissed.

“Walsh!” Jane called out. She wasn’t sure if she was warning him or pleading with him at that point. She felt helpless, rooted to the spot where she stood.

Time slowed to a trickle. She felt, rather than saw, Alan behind her rummaging inside his pack for his nine millimeter. Ajaya and Gibbs took up defensive stances, shoulder to shoulder, guns pointed at the end of trembling arms.

The lights came on with a bright flash. Jane flinched and blinked.

The creatures stopped advancing for a second and in that second Walsh fired a deafening shot into the largest animal’s open mouth. Its head exploded into a four-foot radius of gore, the hollow-tipped bullet designed for maximum destruction upon impact. The beast dropped instantly.

The other creatures sprang back at the sound, but quickly r
ecovered, sniffing and hissing around their felled neighbor. Within seconds they’d ripped its carapace apart and were feasting on it.

Bile rose in Jane’s throat and she coughed reflexively. She was glad she hadn’t consumed anything for a few hours. She didn’t have anything to bring up.

Walsh stood there watching them, weapon at his side.

“Walsh!” Jane screamed, “Defensive formation!”

He came to himself with a start. He looked at his weapon, then back at them as though confused.

The others started yelling too, calling for him to come back to the group.

“Jane—get Compton’s gun out of his pack,” Alan urged in her ear.

She grabbed Tom and shoved him behind Ajaya and Gibbs, sliding the pack from his shoulders. She fumbled in the pockets until her fingers closed over the textured grip of Tom’s Beretta. There was a clip already loaded. She scooped up three additional cartridges and slid them into the side pocket of her flight suit. She pulled back the slide, and let it spring back into place, effectively loading the first round, then brushed her thumb over the safety, just like she’d been taught.

“You got it, Jane?” Alan’s eyes were wide and dilated. He jerked his head back toward the way they’d come. “Take Compton back to the deck transport, where he’ll be safe. We’ll never make it to the capsule.”

She started to protest, but weapons fire cut off any sound she might make. It was overwhelmingly loud in such an enclosed space. She looked up. Walsh had returned to them with more cre
atures in pursuit.

As a group, they retreated. The four of them fired into a gro
wing mass of hungry animals, trying to keep them at bay. There seemed to be more arriving every second.

Jane glanced back. The hall behind them was clear.

“I’m not getting much penetration here!” Gibbs yelled.

“Aim for an open mouth!” Walsh barked. “It’s their weakest point! When you empty that cartridge, load armor piercing rounds!”

Alan shouted, “For the record, I’m very uncomfortable firing ballistics inside a space ship!”

Jane grabbed a hold of Tom’s arm and pulled. He took a single staggering step and stopped.

She pulled again. He resisted, swaying.

Gibbs backed into Tom and there was a precarious moment when it seemed like Tom might go down. Jane wrapped her arms around him, supporting his weight so he wouldn’t pitch forward and tried to ease him into movement.

But his legs just crumpled under him. He fell to his knees and Jane buckled too, under his weight. She struggled for a long, desperate moment, trying ineffectually to lift him back to his feet. He was dead weight against her.

“Jane!” Alan’s face was contorted in a tortured expression. “We’ll have to leave him.”

Gibbs and Ajaya kept looking back at her, desperation plain on their faces. They needed to move. The nepatrox were relentlessly pressing them back.

She shook her head in denial and eased Tom to the floor. She slipped the weapon in a pocket, grasped Tom’s arm, and pulled with everything she had, dragging him across the floor, back the way they’d come.

She pulled with a strength she didn’t know she had, Tom’s inert frame trailing behind her, ducking and swerving to avoid the slimy tendrils dropping from the ceiling. She glanced back, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She’d managed at least 100 feet back toward the deck transport. She’d hoped the others would be right behind her, but there was still a lot of distance between them.

She heard Ajaya declare, “Cover me—reloading.”

Seconds later, Alan yelled, “I’m out of ammo.”

Jane stopped in her tracks and turned, her hand going to her pocket and the clips there, but Gibbs had already passed Alan a
nother clip. He was reloading.

“Make every round count!” Walsh roared.

Those few moments gave the creatures an opening. They surged forward, a few of them circling around Alan to attack from behind.

“Alan! Behind you!”

He and Ajaya were already aware, moving into a diamond-shaped defensive formation, backs to Walsh and Gibbs, as the animals gained more ground, slowly surrounding them.

She dropped Tom’s arm. She hated herself for doing it, but it couldn’t be helped. She slipped the breathing gear off her back and grasped it with her left hand, just as Walsh had done. Then she palmed the cold steel of the Beretta in her right and flicked off the safety with her thumb.

She couldn’t let them get cut off from her. She refused to lose all of them to this madness.

Her body vibrated with tension, itching for movement. She blinked in slow motion, a hyper-awareness sharpening her senses. She took off at a run. Nothing would get by her. She couldn’t a
llow it. Every pounding heartbeat brought her closer. They came to meet her with a greedy glint in every eye.

She swung her left arm like a metronome. Each sweep cleared the path between her and the others. She glanced back. One of the larger ones was smart enough to see she was distracted by the smaller ones and snuck by, heading for Tom.

She raised the weapon and braced herself. Without a second of hesitation, she fired. The recoil painfully compressed every joint in her wrist, elbow and shoulder. The scent of hot metal and burnt carbon stung her nostrils, but she’d hit it. It went down, possibly only stunned, but it was down for the moment, anyway.

“Jane—try to get away!” Alan shouted.

She didn’t reply. Resolution pushed her forward, inch by inch. She ignored the ache in her left arm and kept swinging. If she missed a shot the first time, she hit it the second. As she drew closer to the rest of the crew, the monsters came on her harder, faster.

Some of them got too close. She kicked at them viciously, ho
ping the military-issued boots were tough enough to protect her from the flailing stingers.

She curled her lip in contempt. The nepatrox would just as soon have a bite out of each other as they would out of the humans. The mass of them hissed and spat and sniped at each other as they a
dvanced. There was but five feet left between her and the rest of the group. It might as well have been 100, because it was swarming with nepatrox.

The others were trying to use their tanks in a similar manner but they were tightly grouped and fighting both sides at once. They were being overwhelmed. They weren’t going to make it unless they tried something else. They needed some kind of strategy. She cast around, taking in the immediate environment.

Now that the lights were on, she could see there was a door, a few feet back and to her left. If that room were empty—if they could get inside—they would have the time to hatch a proper plan to get to the capsule and escape. That was as far as she could think, for now. They couldn’t keep going on this way. There were too many and more kept coming. They were all getting tired.

At worst, it would be just a break. Maybe they could pick off the larger ones, one at a time, through a crack in the door. At best, there might be something inside that room they could use. Tom was the only hitch in the plan.

She darted back to the door and tapped the door control. The door slid up. She smashed a few more animals then slipped inside. The lights came on, but nothing came to greet her. It appeared to be empty. Not even a slug. It was full of crates, like the first room they’d entered on the ship.