Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (56 page)

“Dilgarth,
why did it have to be Dilgarth?” Yvonne muttered. She looked at the relay from
Barry. She saw Art's vitals and her eyes clung to them with determination. He
had to make it. He had to. She'd find a way to get him out of this mess. She
should never have let him come. Never.

Irons
was thinking about the Dilgarth as well. He wasn't sure why they were here on
the station, but he had a hunch they were the descendants of the station's
security force. Dilgarth made lousy soldiers but moderate mercenaries and
adequate security. The sight alone of one of them was enough to cow most would
be trouble makers.

Dilgarth
was really a misnomer. Oh it was their name now, but it wasn't their species
name. They were the Garth, Sentient raptor predators from their home world of
the same name. The Dil meant they were devolved. If a Garthian ate a diet of
alien meat something in the diet did bad things to their brain and body. The
meat acted as some sort of prion, attacking the brain and lowering their higher
brain functions while boosting their predatory ones.

Of
course that was the theory. He wasn't sure about it. He was pretty sure
malnutrition was only one factor. A second was social. They were predators
after all. Sure they would act as proper omnivores in civilized society, but
they were well known to cling to their old pack ways of the hunt.

Even
in his time the Garthians were known to hunt sentients. They of course had been
disciplined over it repeatedly. Their position in the predator union had made
it difficult if not impossible to discipline their species as a whole though.

A
Garthian sentient came in two genders. VilGarth, which were the males, and
Hilgarth, the females. They also had subset cultures and cults just like
Terrans. Some clung to the old ways while others employed the Ynari to reform
them into new more dangerous forms.

These
had been sculpted. He looked at a body closely. Garthian's normally weren't an
off white with purple raccoon bands on their body. They had tridactyl hands of
course, two stubby thumbs and a meter long scythe index finger. The finger
blade was deadly.

There
was a classic big raptor claw on the index toe matching the index finger claw
on the hand. The body was well muscled, with spines and tentacles on its flanks
and rear.

It
had a short stubby tail and hunched over appearance. The knees, flanks, elbows,
shoulders, and muzzle was calluses and be speckled with parasites similar to
Terran barnacles. The front lip was split over two fangs.

Two
eyes, the usual sunken ears... Not much different than a stock... no wait. His
toe touched the forearm. He saw a hollow above the wrist. Interesting.

They
had organic spine launchers on their long forearms. Flex the clawed hand just
right and it shot a ten centimeter long spine dart. The dart was made out of
something like bone. He was hopeful that it didn't have any sort of poison in
it. From the look of the tip... He picked one up. No, no such luck. It was hollow.
Hypodermic. Great.

He
turned his head slightly to view the medic patching Derrick's leg. “Doc they
have a hollow in the darts. Expect a poison. Fast or slow. Most likely slow. A
neurotoxin of some sort. Possibly a paralegic.”

Mal
looked up and over to the admiral. He frowned. “You sure?”

Irons
held up the spine in his hand and pointed to the hollow tip. He went over to
the medic and showed him the dart with the light from his suit. Mal frowned and
looked at his patient. Derrick grimaced.

“There
is some signs of... I don't know, necrosis in the tissue but I'm not sure. I
thought it was due to exposure to the atmosphere in here.”

“I
doubt it. Not this quickly,” Irons said. He could feel Proteus direct nanites
into the dart. After a moment the AI had the answer for him and projected it
onto his HUD. “According to Proteus it's a complex neurotoxin and slow acting
paralegic. There is some necrotic toxin in it too boot.”

Mal
scowled. “Lovely. Why slow acting?”

“Garthian's
love to hunt. Killing the prey to quickly is against their religion. They like
long drawn out hunts.”

Mal's
face worked, as did everyone else nearby as they heard that over the radio.
Yvonne bit her lip.

“So
we're in for more of them?” Savo asked.

“Probably,”
Irons said.

“I'd
say that's a definite,” Barry said over the radio link. “Why you may ask? Cause
we've got some parked outside our door trying to get in right now. You wanna
hurry it up over there?” he demanded.

“We're
on it Barry,” Irons said turning back to the path.

“Should
we split up?” Yvonne asked, helping Xander to his feet. The man limped and was
slow but he could walk under his own power. Derrick apparently could too.
Xander hadn't been injured; he'd just tripped over his own two feet during the
attack and twisted an ankle. That was a relief.

“No,”
Irons said. “Defeat in detail,” he said. “There is safety in numbers. Old herd
mentality. Circle defense.”

“We're
on it,” Savo growled. “But I ain't going to be any damn raptor's hamburger so
let's get the hell out of here. Fast.”

Finally
they worked their way around a detour to get to Barry's trapped team. Yvonne
rushed in past the admiral just as they chased off the last Dilgarth.

“We're
here! Stay calm, we'll be with you in a minute!” Yvonne said. “Art are you
okay?” she demanded.

“I'm
fine sis,” Art replied testily and then the lock turned unexpectedly. Irons
spotted motion off to his left on his HUD and turned. There were a pair of
Dilgarth at the corner, they had stopped and returned while he had finished off
their pack mates. He turned to engage them but it is already too late, they
were firing darts.

Art
opened the door in time to get his helmet and throat pierced by a spine. Yvonne
stared in shock for a moment as Art started to crumple. She started screaming
no, shaking her head in anguish. She rushed forward, trying to hold him as he
slumped into her arms. She took his helmet off as he gurgled, looking up at her
helplessly. His hand reached for her face and then fell as if his body suddenly
lost its puppet strings. His eyes rolled back. Her vision swam as tears fill
her eyes and drop onto her visor.

“Medic!
Mal get your ass over here!” She screamed rocking her son and clutching at him.

“Just
a sec, let me patch this,” the medic called, putting a clamp onto a bleeder.
Somehow in the confusion Kyle had taken a hit in the abdomen. He looked up at
her and then to Art and his face tightened. The look of helplessness on
Yvonne's face was too much to bare. He looked down at his patient and then back
to her.

“Go
doc,” Kyle told him through the biting pain. His hand shifted to cover the
wound. When it did the clamp failed and blood squirted anew. He gasped in shock
and surprise.

The
blood hit Mal as he started to get up. Immediately he turned. “Damn it!” He
said turning back to the patient in front of him.

Irons
looked from one to the other. The medic is busy and had made the triage call.
But there had to be something that could be done. He could see Yvonne rocking
the red haired boy, crying softly over the team push. Most of the team were looking
around helplessly, not sure what if anything they could do. The boy's readings
were fading fast.

“Mal!”
Yvonne cried. “Do something! Someone!” Yvonne's anguish is heart breaking. He
had to do something. He looked at Mal. The medic was up to his elbows in blood.
His face was set. He was making the hard call. Savo darted a look at the boy,
so did Teela. Teela turned away, eyes stinging. She should have been the one to
open the door, not the boy. She'd told the kid to wait but he hadn't listened.
Damn it. Damn the luck, she thought. She grimly turned to watch for more
attackers, turning her back on the drama unfolding. She was actually hoping
something would attack so she'd have something to kill.

Irons
pushed Yvonne away. She tried to push him back but he reached in with his right
hand. He pulled her hand gently away and then wrapped his hand around Art's
throat. She clawed at his hand but he ignored it. “Proteus do it,” he growled.

“I...
I'm not sure what to do,” Proteus said. “I am not a medical AI admiral. I keep
telling you I'm not programmed for this!” Despite the protests the admiral
could feel nanites moving to his hand and fingertips.

“Same
as an engineering repair just with organic components. Pretend it's a broken
water line. Patch the blood vessels. Do your best. Use plastic to sheath them
if you have to. Something to keep the blood flowing to the brain. Do that now,
then his air way,” the admiral ordered. If they could keep the brain alive...

“Understood
admiral,” Proteus replied. Nanites flowed through Irons. His hand morphed
around the boy's neck sealing it.

Yvonne
stared at the hand, her right bloodied glove going to her mouth but stopped by
her helmet. It left a red smear on the plastic. Art gasped, trying to breathe.
Irons focused on Proteus's work, tuning out the exterior world... It's rough
and crude, the AI wasn't a medical AI. Proteus patched the blood vessels and
the wind pipe and then withdrew.

Art
gasped, still breathing as the admiral withdrew his hand. The spine fell away.
Yvonne looked at it and then her son. Art is still breathing, eyes closed. She
can see his abdomen moving. His fingers curl. She looked at Irons in raw
appeal. “Is he going to live?” she demanded, ashen. Mal and the others turned
in surprise.

“He's
in rough spot. I've done what I can. We need to get him to the infirmary stat,”
he said grimly. He knew the kid would be lucky to live much longer. He had lost
a great deal of blood and there was also the shock and the threat of blood
clots to consider.

“My
bird is closest,” Barry said. He was holding a spine in his leg. Irons looked
it over. “Think you can do that to me?” he asked hopefully. Al was propping
himself up, injured as well. Teela was hovering beside him.
“I don't know. But if I don't you'll slow us down,” Irons said. He reached over
and let Proteus go to work.

When
the admiral was finished he grunted. “The best I can do is meatball surgery.
Stop the bleeding. You need to get to the doctor.”

“Don't
I know it,” Barry gasped. “Damn couldn't do anything for the pain?” he asked.

“You
want me to disconnect your nerves in your leg?” the admiral demanded. The
poisons were gone but there was still damage.

“Um,
no, I might need them,” Barry grunted.

“Thought
so,” Irons straightened. He looked at the medic.

“We've
got the others admiral, they are stable,” Mal said, checking Art over.
Unfortunately he was out of blood.

“All
right. Let's get them mobile then. Rig a stretcher. Five minutes and then we
move out. Someone find Barry a crutch.”

“I've
got an idea on that,” Savo said looking up and over to Irons and the knot of
people around Art. “Think we can find a hover pallet?” he asked. Irons slowly
smiled.

They
used the generator to power a cargo pallet. Irons was their best deterrent, his
presence made the alien raptors flee in abject terror. They loaded up the
pallet with the wounded and gear and moved off, Gus pushed it down the
companionway as fast as his short legs allowed. Irons cautioned him to not push
too fast or he'd lose control. Gus had a few steering issues at corners making
even Barry wince as he held on for dear life.

Unfortunately
the medic had run out of saline and plasma treating the other wounded before
Art. He would have to make due until they got to the shuttle, that was all
there was to it. Irons grimaced when he heard the news. He couldn't do any
more, he had to be on the lookout for the predators and besides, nanites had to
have something to go off of. His body was being stripped of water as it was.
Each time he fired his plasma weapon the nanites had to strip apart water
molecules to replace the hydrogen for the next shot. At this rate he was going
to be as dehydrated as some of the others. He'd already drained his suit's
water supply.

“Okay,
definitely going to be a while before I hand over the keys to one of my
shuttles at this rate kid,” Barry called out as he nearly toppled off the
pallet.

“Sorry!”
Gus called back. There was a clatter and a loud “Oops!” followed by cussing.
Irons sighed as they called a halt.

He
doesn't like it that they were so strung out, but some people like Barry could
barely keep up.

Get
the kid and other wounded back to the shuttle to go to the infirmary, that was
the plan anyway the admiral thought as they moved. Yvonne held the boy's hand
the entire way. She constantly reassured the boy he'll be okay. Irons wasn't so
sure. He had lost a lot of blood and taken considerable damage. He'd be lucky
if his heart and organs didn't collapse and shut down.

They
reached the dock where Barry had parked his ride without further incident a
half hour after the rescue.