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Authors: Mark Wayne McGinnis

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HAB 12 (Scrapyard Ship) (16 page)

BOOK: HAB 12 (Scrapyard Ship)
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It took Ricket less than five minutes to recode the belts. Instructions were minimal—pretty much point and click. But at ten miles, HUD zoom and night optics would be stretched to their absolute limits. Risks of shifting into a rock or tree or anything else was significantly higher. For that reason, Ricket instructed them to calculate phase-shift locations to several feet off the ground. No guarantee, but one small safeguard. Ricket was huddled up with Dira and Morgan. The codes required to open the second portal were fairly complex and needed to be followed in a precise order. Jason saw Dira nodding and making notes into her virtual tablet. Team Lion assembled in a straight line, side-by-side—everyone looking toward a tree-lined horizon off in the distance.

“Team Lion, are your coordinates set?” Jason asked over their comms. "Ricket, double-check each of their coordinates.” Ricket stood still for a moment, obviously reviewing information on his internal HUD display.

“Drop location coordinates are all acceptable, Captain,” Ricket said, looking up at him.

“Let’s go ahead and phase-shift,” Jason said, and immediately disappeared.

Simultaneously, Jason and his team reappeared two feet above the ground ten miles away. When Traveler’s thousand-pound bulk landed, the ground shook. Now, ten miles closer to the tree line, the team settled in for a thirty-minute wait time while their belts recharged. Jason took a deep breath, relieved none had gone up in a ball of fire.

“Any ideas on what we’re going to do once we clear the portal, Captain?” Billy asked, now standing at Jason’s side.

“Not really. Problem is, we have no idea what we’ll be walking into. We’ll be emerging into the Craing world of Halimar
.
The limited meta-data provided gives us nothing to go on regarding their current population, or even the technological levels of their populace. All we know is the air is breathable, and the planet is roughly the size of Mars. My main concern is getting back to
The Lilly.

At the thirty-minute mark, the team lined up again, reset their coordinates, and phase-shifted at the same time.

* * *

 

“They must be a thousand feet tall,” Billy said, as they eyed the massive redwood-like tree trunks that reached into the nighttime sky. Above the treetops, looking close enough to touch, a nearby red planet with Saturn-like rings hovered in the heavens. Three other neighboring planets, smaller and fading into the distance, were also observable in their shared concentric orbit. Jason assessed his HUD display and the now-blinking purple rectangle.

“Two point five miles, Captain, through that break in the trees,” Ricket said, pointing off toward the right where amber lights flickered in the distance.

“Campfires,” Billy said, “and quite a few of them.”

Traveler, towering over the others, took a step forward. Standing tall with his hands on his hips, he said, “The portal is there within their encampment. It is there amongst the indigenous people.”

Jason subconsciously nodded his head. “Of course it is. Why should we expect things to become any easier now than the way the mission has gone so far? Let’s move out; stay together.”

The five team members headed off toward the distant campfires, skirting twenty- and thirty-foot diameter tree trunks. Several inches of long pine needles covered the ground, quieting their progress.

“I suggest we go dark, Cap,” Billy said.

Jason turned around and saw four backlit faces staring back at him through their helmets. He, and then the others, laughed out loud. They’d taken such care to sneak up on the Craing encampment, but had ignored the fact they were lit-up like Christmas trees. One by one, their helmets went dark.

They reached the outskirts of the encampment. There was a large clearing in the forest with what appeared to be some sort of stable—no less than twenty thatch-roofed structures—each illuminated by a small, slow-burning torch. Jason opened his helmet visor. Typical stable-like smells permeated the air: leather, manure, and saddle oil. Team Lion crouched down low when movement ahead was detected. To Jason’s surprise, it wasn’t a Craing warrior on sentry duty but a seven-foot-tall Serapin. The beast walked leisurely by, then stopping to check various locations before he continued on out of sight.

Jason signaled for the team to move forward. Passing in front of a structure’s open doorway, they could see inside. Curled up into circular balls, with their tails wrapped snuggly around their bodies, ten Serapins slept together on a hay-covered floor. Jason had assumed these beasts were held captive, used like horses back on Earth. But it was evident their relationship with the Craing was an entirely different one. After passing a large corral, and what looked like an arena with numerous chariots parked and aligned in parallel rows, they headed towards a wide path that led deeper into the forest.

From behind the trunk of a massive tree, a Serapin sentry guard emerged. Startled, the Serapin froze in his tracks. Without hesitation, Traveler moved forward, pushing Billy and Jason aside. His thick, muscled arms came up—his fingers extended wide, encircling the Serapins neck—all in one fluid motion. The Serapin’s feet left the ground as Traveler slowly lifted the beast’s thousand-pound body into the air. As his grip continued to constrict, the Serapin’s tongue frantically flicked forward, his eyes widened. Without access to his airway, no sound escaped. The eyes lost focus and the tongue fell limp. Traveler continued to hold the beast in his grip for several more moments. He stared into now lifeless eyes, then casually let the Serapin fall to the ground in a heap. The team moved forward without exchanging a word.

They arrived at another large clearing, the size of several large football fields. Numerous small campfires encircled the area, with a larger campfire in the center. Several hundred Craing warriors knelt on the ground. Jason had seen this before. A repeating mantra had begun and droned in the background. Each Craing kept his head lowered, as if in reverence or submission. Just like weeks earlier onboard the Craing battle cruiser, there was a loud cracking noise—one that sounded like snapping twigs or small bones being broken. The sounds echoed into the night.

The Craing suddenly turned in unison and faced in another direction, bowing several times in rapid succession. When the sound came again, in unison they turned forty-five degrees and bowed again. They did this ritual four times—bowing north, south, east, and west. When the strange sounds stopped, the Craing sat up and faced a solitary figure standing on a raised platform several yards ahead in front of the fire.

With a stubby sword at his side and dressed in elaborate leather garments with reflective metal fittings, the figure addressed the crowd. Jason had no idea what he was saying; he hadn’t realized that when he retracted his helmet’s visor, the rest of his team members had followed suit. Not a problem, unless you needed to access any of the HUD readouts. Readouts that would have signaled the approach from behind of thirteen Serapins and the oversized net they carried between them.

When the net was cast high into the air and caught by another team of Serapins, there was no time to phase-shift away or to use their weapons. In mere seconds, Jason and his team were forced to the ground, immobilized.

Jason lay with his face on the ground. Billy, inches away, was still struggling against the netting and then stopped.

“Didn’t see that coming,” Billy said, smiling.

“Can you move? Anything?” Jason asked him, trying to see more of the approaching crowd around them.

“Maybe. My right arm seems to have some movement.”

Jason could see why. Traveler was on that side of Billy’s arm. His bulk raised the netting just enough for Billy’s arm to have some freedom of movement.

“If I could just reach my Ka-Bar,” Billy said as he moved his arm closer to his belt. “Another few inches …”

Struck in the head from behind, Jason never saw if Billy managed to get hold of his knife.

Chapter 20

 

When he awoke, he was naked. Naked and tied to a pole several feet off the ground. His head throbbed and something was wrong with his side. Looking down, Jason saw the flesh on his right hip had been ripped open.
Is that my hip bone?
The pain caught up with what he was seeing, and he moaned.

“That looks like it hurts,” came a voice close by. Jason turned his face as far as the leather straps holding his head back against the pole would allow. Billy, too, was strapped naked to a pole. Then, as his vision cleared, Jason noticed two more bodies propped up on poles: first Rizzo, and then Traveler, at the far end, who was secured to three poles. Arms and legs spread wide to smaller cross beams. Jason saw that each could move somewhat.

“Everyone all right?” he asked.

Billy answered first: “Couldn’t be better, Cap.” Then Rizzo, “I’m good, Cap.” Then Traveler, “This is not an honorable way to die.”

“Well, you’re not dead yet,” Jason said, turning his head in the opposite direction but not seeing another pole there. “Any idea where Ricket is?”

“I’m here, Captain.”

Jason heard the mechanical voice coming from below. Ricket, helmetless, seemingly unhurt and still in his battle suit, stood below him looking up. Behind Ricket, in a semi-circle, were at least one hundred Craing warriors, and behind them, just as many Serapins. A murmur of quiet talking filled the air.

“I could use an update about now, Ricket. What the hell’s going on?”

“They are deciding your fate as we speak,” he replied.

“Is there a reason I’m pinned up here on a pole with blood streaming down my leg, while you’re standing down there, perfectly fine?”

“First, they believe I am no threat. Second, they are intrigued by my … mechanical qualities. They’re quite intelligent, Captain.”

“Fine. What are they going to do with us? I don’t suppose you could reason with them?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve been actively doing that. Seems the killing of their sentry guard has complicated matters. Theirs is a clan steeped thousands of years in tradition. We have dishonored them. They fully believe in an
eye-for-an-eye
form of justice.”

“Perhaps we can give them something they want or need,” Jason said, seeing the same Craing who had spoken earlier making his way through the crowd. Jason then noticed in the distance other Craing beings—a handful of females with their small breasts exposed and small Craing children holding their hands.

“In speaking with their leaders, I found they need for little,” Ricket said. “I had noticed very few females lived among the tribe. When I mentioned this and that we had the medical capability to assist them with that imbalance, I detected elevated heart rates, although they showed no outward signs of interest. That same condition is borne by both Craing and Serapin.”

The Craing leader had joined Ricket at his side and was looking up at Jason.

“Can you translate for us, Ricket?” Jason asked.

“I will do my best. I’m learning this dialect as I go, sir.” Ricket turned to the Craing and spoke in a strange, highly-guttural language. The Craing listened and then slowly nodded his consent. They both looked up at Jason.

“I’m sorry for the death of your …” Jason paused:
What the hell should I call him?
“The death of your fellow …”

“No offense, but you’re kinda fucking this up, Cap,” Billy intoned with a wry smile.

Jason ignored him. “I’m sorry we killed your sentry. There is no excuse. We acted impulsively when he discovered our whereabouts. We are simple travelers and only wish to move on,” Jason explained.

The Craing spoke for an extended period of time, first looking at Ricket, and then up at Jason. Similarly to how humans speak, he used his hands in gestures and to emphasize his points. Jason and the Craing looked to Ricket for the translation.

“His name is Wik-ma—at least, that's the English phonetic equivalent. He says he is inclined to just kill the lot of us, me included. They are especially excited about the amount of meat that would be available from Traveler. He mentioned another tribe, the ones we saw on chariots earlier. They are currently not completely at war. He phrased it as a brief lull. That tribe has far more Serapins. From what I understand, Serapin are the lifeblood of a tribe. For many years now, the other tribe has possessed the singular female Serapin, the queen. Many times this tribe has attempted to abscond with her. All attempts have failed. The other tribe is too strong. He said if we could bring the queen here to his tribe, that it would go a long way towards getting us our freedom.”

“Like kidnap her? That’s ridiculous. He’ll just have to do that himself,” Jason said, while maintaining as much of an impassive expression as possible.

“I advise you to reconsider, Captain. He is quite serious about killing us. He fears the other tribe. Overtly breaking the peace treaty would be catastrophic.”

Jason’s mind went to Mollie and Nan and the pirates. Time was running out. “Well, how does he see this working? We certainly can’t do anything tied to these poles,” Jason said, looking at the Craing leader.

“They’ll release three of you. But Traveler stays.”

Jason noticed the Craing leader and Ricket were looking at his private parts.
What the hell are they looking at? No … not at his private parts … his
injured hip
. Over the last few minutes, the nanites had worked overtime; the wound had completely healed. Wik-ma turned and walked into the crowd, which parted, leaving a wide opening. At fifty yards out, the Craing leader turned back around and faced them.

Jason looked over at Traveler. “You going to be okay up there a while longer, Traveler?”

“Yes, I am fine,” he replied stoically.

“Listen, we’ll be rescued. Zebra team is no more than a half-day out, can you hang in there that long?”

"That will not be a problem, Captain,"

Thump thump.
Two arrows, one in each upper thigh, pierced Traveler's thick grey hide. Blood spurted and flowed freely down his legs. He made no sound. He continued to look straight ahead, no indication of what must be excruciating pain. Jason turned to see that Wik-ma was now holding a long wooden bow and had knocked another arrow at the ready.

BOOK: HAB 12 (Scrapyard Ship)
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