He leaped up from the table and grabbed my hand as we dashed
down the aisle toward the door. To my horror, it was slowly sliding shut. We
reached it just as it lowered the last three centimeters. The room went
completely dark.
When
the lights returned, we saw all the droids sprawled on the floor, deactivated.
The doors were still tightly shut.
“Wh-what
happened?” I stammered.
“That
explosion must have struck something large, to send the whole ship into
lockdown,” Marks explained, allowing me to cling closely to him. He glanced
around the room until he spotted a security panel.
“Ah!”
he stood and ran over to it. He tried to activate it with his keycard, but it
only showed what we already knew: that the whole ship was in lockdown. Marks
tried to navigate further, but a pass-code screen prevented him.
“Blast,”
he slammed the side of the panel in frustration, “I don’t have clearance for
anything further.”
I
looked around the mess hall. I spotted a familiar head of bright-blonde hair
just behind the counter.
“Hey!”
I cried, running over. Sure enough, the head belonged to Cher the android. The
rocking of the explosion had brought down a heavy stack of trays on top of her,
deactivating her. “Cher would know the clearance code; can you reactivate her?”
Marks
frowned, “She’s nothing but an android; leave her as she is. I can figure this
out on my own.” He turned and kept muttering to himself, but I distinctly heard
the phrases should never be that smart…anything
better than a machine…won’t be replaced.
“Marks?”
I said softly as he tried countless algorithms to no avail. He ignored me.
“Marks,” I persisted, “I don’t doubt that you have the ability to do this; we
just don’t have time to wait for you to figure it out, and we have someone here
who knows what we need.”
“It’s
not a someone, it’s a something!”
He exploded at me. “All it knows is what we
tell it and program it to do!”
“And
one of those programs can get us into those security screens!”
Marks
sighed heavily, “All right, I’ll do it,” he grumbled. He raised Cher’s head and
fumbled with something at the base of her neck. Her eyes lit up, and she
immediately got to her feet.
“How
may I be of service?” she asked.
Marks
would not speak to her, so I did. “Cher, we need the clearance code to see all
security footage for the rest of the ship, to know where the blast came from and
how bad the damage is.”
“Certainly,” she replied, and entered the code without
hesitation. Marks immediately pushed her aside and scrolled through the
screens.
“Oh
no,” he said, “The blast hit the communications wing hardest of all, and the
supply bay.”
“What
does that mean?” I asked, fearing the worst.
Marks
confirmed it. “It means that all the supplies available to us on the ship are
here in this mess hall, and there is no way to communicate with the rest of the
ship.”
Cher
spoke up, “Communications offline; cannot connect to or locate any
commanding officer.”
Marks rolled his eyes, “You don’t say, Tin Lady?”
Marks rolled his eyes, “You don’t say, Tin Lady?”
Meanwhile,
I had come across a screen that sent a chill through my bones. “Marks…” he
joined me at the screen.
Barabbians
were filing out of the supply bay, and leading them was the severe, impeccable
Captain Gayle herself!
“The
turncoat!” Marks hissed. “She’s headed
for the bridge! We’ve got to warn the Commander!”
“But
how?” I asked.
Marks
looked all around the room. He pointed down to a large square vent at the base
of the wall. “The ventilation ducts, that will get me close enough to the
supply dock to be able to repair the communications breach so we can warn the
commander.”
“You?”
I asked, “Well, then what do we do?”
Marks
glanced between Cher and me. “You two need to figure out how to lift the
lockdown and stop the aliens for as long as you can. Don’t let them get to the
commander before I do!”
He
lifted the grate off the duct and prepared to go in.
“Marks!”
I called down the duct after him. His head reappeared, already covered in dust.
“Good luck!”
“Thanks,”
he whispered back, “you too!”
Now
that Marks was gone, I turned to Cher. “Cher, can you lift the lockdown on
everywhere but the bridge?”
Cher
approached the security panel and stared hard at it. Minutes later, the doors
to the mess hall hissed open. “Security Lockdown Lifted,” Cher announced.
I
raced down the hall to where I had seen the map. I saw several people walk out
of their berths very disoriented; no one seemed to be able to figure out what
happened. I pointed the pathway to the bridge out to Cher. “Cher, you need to
seal off that hallway; Captain Gayle must not get through there,” I traced out
a pathway from that point back to where we stood, “But she must not get
anywhere else in the ship except where we can get at her.”
“My
processors deduce that the most optimal course for the plan you suggest would
be this one here,” Cher caused a pathway to
light up.
I
nodded, “It looks good, do it.”
“Hey!”
an officer called to me, “Do you have any idea what happened?”
“Yeah!”
I hollered back, “Alien invasion! We have a detachment of Barabbians on this
ship, and they’re headed for the bridge! We’ve got to stop them!”
I
dashed down the hallway Cher had marked out for us, “Follow me!” I called to
the officers on board.
Cher
proved an admirable strategist. We flanked the Barabbian invaders and took them
completely by surprise. I let those with weapons sweep past me. The Barabbians
fell upon them, hissing and clawing, but the Phantessan soldiers were brave
souls. They would not back down, no matter how many wounds they sustained. The
determination of the soldiers and the brute force of their onslaught soon
decimated the invading horde. The ship was saved! I looked over the mass of
mangled red bodies in the corridor. Not one of them was Captain Gayle. Where
did she go?
Cher seized my arm and pulled me
into an alcove on the side.
“Incoming
message from Commander Gerald,” she told
me.
“Incoming
message?” I gasped, “That’s great! It means Marks fixed the breach!”
Cher
began speaking in the commander’s voice, “Who is out there? Who is with
Cher? Hello?”
“Hello, Commander,” I called back, “It’s me, Laura.”
“Laura!
Is it true? Captain Gayle is a traitor?”
“It appears so, Commander. She’s the one who set off
the explosion, sir.”
“I
cannot believe it! Why, here she is now, with some Barabbian prisoners.”
I
grabbed Cher’s hand, forgetting how useless that was, “No, wait! Don’t let
her—“
Too
late; I heard Captain Gayle’s silvery cold voice over Cher’s broadcast systems.
“Commander,
I am so glad you are safe.”
“You
are?” He sounded dubious, “Well,
I’m glad to hear it. What have you here?”
“These
are all that remain of the invaders, Commander. They were the ones to set the charges
that allowed their forces to teleport onto our ship. I trust the exterior
defenses are still active?”
My mind raced. If the exterior defenses were still
active, that meant that Gayle could then claim command of the whole Phantessan
fleet, and not even our own weaponry could stop her! I dragged Cher with me
down the hallway to the bridge.
“They
are,” Commander Gerald replied. “It
is a relief to me to see you still loyal to Phantessa, Captain.”
“Relief?
You speak as if you had reason to doubt me, Commander.” Her voice sharpened, and I put on an extra burst of
speed. We were just down the hallway from the bridge.
“Well,
yes, as a matter of fact, that new girl, Laura, seemed to think that you were
the one heading up this operation.”
We reached the bridge just in time to hear Captain
Gayle announce, “Sir, such an accusation is totally false.”
Cher
left my side and strode boldly in front of the commander’s desk.
“Accessing
archived footage,” she announced in that
same bland, even tone she always used, “Security camera, Supply
Dock.”
I saw Gayle’s jaw tighten. Commander Gerald watched
with interest as a Barabbian wearing a Phantessan uniform snuck into the supply
dock and very distinctly set explosives. Then the Barabbian did a very curious
thing: it slipped on a pair of gloves and a mask with a wig attached. When it
turned around, there was Captain Gayle!
Commander
Gerald leaped to his feet as Gayle the Barabbian ripped her mask of and hissed
at him, her hideous forked tongue flickering out of a red, scaly mouth. The
Barabbian “prisoners” immediately drew their weapons, having only pretended to
be bound.
Just
then, a body dropped from a vent in the ceiling and landed on one of the
Barabbians. It was Marks! He wrestled the weapon away from the alien, while
Cher employed a truly astonishing arsenal of weapons from within her android’s
body to dispatch the other. Marks was able to dodge the claws of the Barabbian,
and attempted to use its own gun against it. That’s when things started to go
terribly wrong. The laser bolts had no effect on the hard exoskeleton of the
Barabbian. Some bolts bounced off harmlessly and ended up striking different
surfaces around the room, while others absorbed straight into the alien’s skin.
Marks had to fight the alien by hand, but by his resourcefulness he was able to
finally overpower his adversary. But the fight was not over yet. The three of
us turned to confront Gayle, but she already had her claws around the neck of
Commander Gerald.
“Fools!”
she rasped, “You thought you could get the better of me, but you’ve just made
your last and most fatal mistake! No one can outsmart me! Make one wrong move,
and the commander dies!”
I
could have kicked myself. Didn’t I see this coming? Didn’t I always see this coming in every novel I'd read and movie I’d ever
watched where this scenario happened? The good guys overpower all the bad guys
except one, and that’s the one that gets his hands on the good guy leader, or
someone equally as valuable, and the good guys are forced to surrender in order
to save their Most Valuable Participant. Here I was, in full control of my own
actions, and I had fallen into that same stupid trap! I remembered the
typewriter and the Door, and dimly I wondered who in fact was writing this
particular adventure. If I was the writer, I knew what I would do. I wondered
if saying anything would inspire the author with my good ideas of getting out
of this.
“There
has to be some way of getting past those hard scales,” I whispered under my
breath, “Like it’s some sort of body armor, and she can be vulnerable
underneath.”
Marks
glanced over to me. “Whom are you talking to?” he whispered.
But
under his voice, my ears had caught another noise: the sound of skin pulling
away from a shell. I knew it was now or never. With a loud cry, I leaped over
the commander’s console, my hands outstretched toward Gayle’s face. I wrapped
my fingers around the edges of her scaly face, and ripped the hard, red
exoskeleton clean off!
“No!”
she screamed, but in protecting her head,
she had released the commander. He swiftly restrained her claws and pointed a
gun at her.
“Vermin
traitor,” he barked at her, “You are mine!” He aimed the laser pistol at her
head and blew a hole in it.
We
all stood around the carcass, staring at the light pink skin of her head,
strange-looking now without the red shell.
Commander
Gerald gazed at me in awe, “How did you know that her…scales would come off like that?”
I
only shook my head in response; I wasn’t even sure how it had happened, how did
I expect to explain it to anyone else?
“You
know,” the commander continued, “For a simple diplomat’s companion, you are a
surprisingly brilliant strategist. You have not only saved my life, but you
saved the entire Phantessan fleet as well.” He gestured out the window, where I
saw that the Phantessan ships were now gaining leeway in the Barabbian
invasion. As we watched, the Phantessan ships repelled the Barabbian forces,
and the enormous mother ship recalled all the remaining fighters and began an
ignominious retreat.
Commander
Gerald turned to Cher, “Sound the alert,” he said, “Notify all ships, return to
the station. The Barabbians have gone, our work is done.” He grinned at me and
clapped me on the shoulder, “For your bravery and quick thinking, when we get
back to Phantessa, whatever you want is yours.”
“I’m
not the only one, sir,” I said, noticing that Marks hung back, glowering at the
attention I received. “None of my actions would have been possible if Private
Marks had not accessed the security panels, and then had the presence of mind
to repair the communication lines damaged by the blast.”
From
the look Commander Gerald gave Marks, he probably did not even realize such a
man was on his ship. For a commander of such high standing, I mused, he was surprisingly self-absorbed.
“Is
that so?” He exclaimed, “Well then, you’ll have to put in a request as well,
young man. There is nothing too small to thank you for what you have done.”
Marks
respectfully ducked his head as he shook the commander’s hand.
“Cher,
too,” I continued; I would show this arrogant commander a thing or two about
recognizing those under him! “She was the most helpful in letting us into the
security feed, lifting the lockdown, and closing off the hallways to protect
you.”
By
now, Commander Gerald was turning almost as red as a Barabbian himself. I could
tell that, though he might bestow honors upon a simple private, perhaps I had
crossed a line seeking compensation for a lowly android. I had thought that
Marks’ aversion to Cher was borne out of fear that he thought someone as
insignificant as he might be replaced, but now I saw that the fear of machines
pervaded the entire human race in this universe.
“Very
well,” Commander Gerald reluctantly acquiesced, “I shall see about procuring
recognition for the android.” He deliberately avoided addressing her by name,
but I did not press the matter. Cher nudged my shoulder gratefully.
As
embarrassing as such an act was, it may be confessed at this juncture that I
vainly tried to stifle a yawn. I hadn’t had a break for some time, and after
the entire escapade of running and the fighting and the pumping adrenaline, I
was tired!
Commander
Gerald dismissed us to our berths. As Marks and I strolled down the hallways
and through the various docks and bays, officers at every point stood and
either saluted or applauded us. We were heroes, through and through!
Marks
nudged me when we reached the hallway of berths.
“I
still can’t figure out how Captain Gayle could have been on this ship for so
long without anyone realizing that she wasn’t human.”
I
grunted, “Well, you said yourself when we first met, the security-bots can’t
see through clothing. All she had to do was put on a uniform and cover her
exposed hands and face with skin-like material, and the security-bots would be
none the wiser; certainly if the robots did not register, no one else would
suspect, either.”
We
reached my berth first. Marks paused.
“Laura,”
he stammered, “I want to say… thank you—for showing me how important it is to
recognize skill in everyone, and not to depend too much on my own abilities.”
I
smiled, “You’re welcome.” I slid my keycard over the scanner and opened my
door.
“See
you on Phantessa,” Marks called, walking off to his room.
For
some reason, I did not reply. Maybe I was too tired. At any rate, I had only
just laid down on the bed, when a gentle chime sounded.
“Arriving
in the dock of Port Arriva, Phantessa,” A
voice not unlike Cher’s announced. “Ambassador Laura, please proceed
to the bridge.”
I
stood with a groan. Was I ever going to get any rest any more? I stumbled out
of my berth. The hallways were strangely empty. Where had everyone gone? Was I
the last person off the ship? I had always been under the impression that the
trip to Phantessa would be longer than just a few minutes. Perhaps not; perhaps
the space station had been orbiting the home planet this entire time, and it
was only a matter of re-entering the planet’s atmosphere.
I
saw Cher waiting for me in a hallway on my way to the bridge.
“Come
this way, Laura,” she instructed. I
followed her to a wide-open space, very much like a loading dock. I could see
daylight out the window of a door at the end of a long tunnel and a ramp.
I
glanced at Cher, “Down there?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied, “Commander Gerald wishes to
speak with you.”
I
wondered what the commander could have to say to me now. I marched down the
ramp. When I reached the door, I couldn’t find a handle. This was too much; I
was thoroughly fed up with all this futuristic technology. There wasn’t even a
scanner to swipe my keycard! Frustrated, I placed a hand on its smooth surface
and pushed as hard as I could. It gave way immediately at my touch, and there
was such a blast of wind and dust that I was forced to close my eyes and cover
my face.
When
I opened them again, my first glimpse of Phantessa almost looked like a Texas
wasteland.
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