Survivor (11 page)

"If they wanted to exchange ideas," Cal
said, picking up on some of Nova's thoughts through her chip, "Why
would they send out a shockwave to kill all life on this
planet?"

She frowned as her joyful imaginings were
cut short by Cal's grim reminder. His words sent her thoughts back
to the scenes of the desert. The toppled ships and torn bodies
replayed in her mind.

"I don't know," she said, opening her eyes.
There was no chance of returning to daydreams now.

"I'm just saying, if they were a peaceful
species, they wouldn't have started with that," Cal said.

"Maybe they had a bad experience when they
went in and they were making sure the same threat wasn't here?"

"That sounds like grasping at straws to me,"
Cal said.

"I suppose it takes a special kind of
species to decorate their tombs with promises of taking over the
universe."

"Exactly."

"Well I'm not going to go in there with guns
blazing. I don't want to be the one that starts a war."

"Shouldn't Doctor Codon be introducing the
human species?" Cal said. "He is in more of an official position
than you."

"You heard him," Nova said. "The Doctor
would rather leave the planet and find one of his superiors to do
it."

"I don't think we'll have that much
time."

"Yeah, plus he's stranded too."

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"You're a robot," Nova said. "You're not
supposed to get hunches."

"I can if all of the available data points
to a poor outcome," Cal said, collecting her empty plate and
disappearing around the corner.

She grunted and went back to staring at the
table. She was bursting with energy, with the need to know who
these new aliens were. She knew her body was exhausted, that she
should probably rest, but how could she? There was no way to know
how long she had before the Ancients had ships, and were on their
way to the human colonies.

Her mind bounced back and forth from one
course of action to another. She had to sleep; it was the only way
to get her head back in the game. Six hours would be enough to get
her body back into working order and mind straight. If the Ancients
managed to make lift-off before then, well there wasn't much she
could do.

She pushed herself up from the table and
trudged to her sleeping pod. She collapsed onto it and relished in
the cushioned mattress. The pillow was as soft as anything she'd
felt, and promised a good night's sleep.

"You're covered in sand," Cal said. His
voice ripped Nova out of her near-sleep.

"I know."

"You should shower before going to bed."

"But I'm so tired."

"I have to clean your sheets."

"What do you mean clean them?" she said.
"You pick them up and throw them into this shoot."

She held out her hand and tapped a
rectangular panel next to her bed. It led down underneath her bed
to where Crusader's more mechanical parts did their work. The
sheets would be cleaned, dried and then sent back up to a shelf
next to her bed.

"Well, it's annoying," Cal said.

"Again," Nova said, talking slowly and
enunciating each word, "You're a robot. Things aren't supposed to
be annoying; you're just supposed to do them."

"Ah but you're forgetting something very
important," Cal said.

"What?"

"I'm a very special robot."

Cal chuckled, hovering out of Nova's
reach.

She groaned and swiped her hand after him,
far too slow. She glanced down at her bed; there were already
grains of sand spread across the sheets.

"Damned Robot."

CHAPTER TEN

Nova awoke to Cal prodding her arm. His metal pincer jabbed
her forearm repeatedly until she threw off the blanket and sat up.
She glanced at the neon blue clock, six hours exactly.

"Morning," he said.

Nova scowled. She'd been having the nicest
dream about a calm beach with no foreign aliens or dead bodies.
Back to reality. She rubbed her eyes and stretched. Thoughts of
losing her possessions, being stranded on a foreign planet, and
confronting an alien race, had faded away. Her stomach rumbled.

She headed straight for the
food-generator.

"Porridge."

The machine whirred into action and one
minute later, it dinged. She opened the door to reveal a steaming
bowl, complete with a coating of sugar.

"Nova, we have a problem," Cal said,
hovering in from the pilot's pod.

She groaned.

"What now?"

"They're about to test a weapon."

"What?"

"It looks dangerous."

She frowned and stood up, carrying her bowl
into the pilot's pod. The front screen was filled with a flickering
image of the oasis, along with the Ancients. Grey lines of static
roved across the screen and a loud buzzing drone overlaid the audio
feed.

"How are you getting that footage?" Nova
asked.

"We hacked into some of the cameras from the
fallen ships. With no one on-board, security is minimal."

"Why is it dark?"

"With the planet's current orbital position,
the day and night cycle aren't consistent," Cal said. "My sensors
suggest there will still be three more hours of darkness."

Raised voices drew Nova's attention back to
the aliens. Three creatures were gathered around a metal cylinder
the size of full-grown man. An Ancient stepped forward and gestured
towards it. Another Ancient ran forward and spoke in a flurry of
syllables, also pointing at the cylinder.

The bigger creature nodded once and they all
stepped back, almost to the line of trees.

The smaller aliens gathered around and
propped up the metal cylinder.

"What are they pointing at?" Nova asked.

A second video feed opened on Crusader's
front screen showing the sky and the small red moon. The image was
tilted to one side; the camera feed had to be from a toppled
ship.

"Based on the angle of trajectory, they're
pointing at the moon," Cal said.

The faint crimson glow reflected off of the
metal cylinder and bathed the surrounding ground in red.

An Ancient pressed a raised red button on
the side of the cylinder and dove towards the trees. They scrambled
over one another. Grunts and shouts crackled over the audio
channel.

One Ancient was knocked back by his
companions and fell into the sand. His heavy metallic body sunk
deep. It struggled to get up, like a turtle on its back. Its head
swung desperately, glancing first at the device, and then at the
other Ancients, safely in the cover of the trees.

Nova's fingers clenched around her spoon,
something tightening in her throat. The Ancients were scared, and
that terrified the shit out of her.

The command pod filled with sound. A booming
explosion echoed into every crevice of Crusader, blowing out some
of the speakers.

Nova ducked, covering her head with her
hands and squeezing her eyes shut. She waited for the inevitable
rain of shrapnel, but nothing happened. She unclenched her arms and
stood on shaky legs.

The cylinder was still there but surrounded
by a crater gouged into the sand. The Ancient which had fallen over
was now just a red splash on the sand. Pieces of black armour
dotted the ground around the crater, intermixed with chunks of raw
flesh.

The device glowed red-hot, almost white.
Nearby sand had been melted into chunks of glass.

Nova's mouth hung open.

The aliens spoke rapidly in excited tones.
They gestured and pointed to the sky. It was only then that she
noticed the second video feed. The red glow from the second moon
was gone. All that remained was a gaping piece of space with
nothing in it.

"They destroyed a moon with that tiny
thing?" she said. Her words caught in her throat and came out as a
whisper.

"Worse," Cal said. "According to Crusader's
readings, they turned it into a black-hole."

"They what?"

"The energy from the gun compacted the moon
into a mini black-hole. It lasted only a fraction of a second, but
it was there."

"How can that be?"

"Tiny black-holes lose their energy almost
as soon as they're formed. Your eyes wouldn't have detected it, but
the scanning equipment did."

Cal's voice was panicked.

Nova's mouth flapped but no words came out.
Such technology was impossible.

"It can't be," Cal said.

"You just told me that's what happened."

"Yes, but it can't. No weapon could create a
black-hole."

"Well apparently theirs can," she said.

It felt as though her heart had dropped
through to her stomach with the demonstration. The sight of such
awesome power, tossed around for the sake of a test-run, was
mind-boggling. She trembled at the thought of what else they could
assemble.

What had felt like an exciting adventure was
slipping into a nightmare. The hairs on Nova's neck stood on end,
poised and waiting.

She breathed hard. Her hands gripped the
metal control panel, her spoon lying forgotten on the floor like
the porridge at her side. It could get cold, go mouldy and grow its
own ecosystem and she still wouldn't have noticed. It was too much.
There was no way she could walk out there with confidence and
convince them to be peaceful. She had nothing to bargain with. It
was a wonder the Ancients hadn't detected her already and shot her
into a cosmic crap hole.

"I think this further supports my hunch,"
Cal said.

"Yep," she whispered.

"Crusader," Cal said, "Try to leave
again."

The engines rumbled underneath their feet
but nothing happened. "I'm afraid we're still constrained here,"
Crusader said.

"I have to go out there," Nova said.

"I don't think so," Cal said. "They'll take
one look at you and squash you like a bug."

"What else can I do? It would be pointless
for me to go in waving my gun around."

"There are no viable simulations."

"Right, so you've got no ideas either."

"They're doing something else," Cal
said.

Nova returned her attention to the front
screen. All hunger had fled from her stomach. Her bowl of porridge
looked like congealed sludge.

She looked back at the creatures with a
furrowed brow. A new level of fear and respect coursed through her
veins. Her legs and back tingled; all she wanted to do was run away
from the new beings and their powerful weapons. Maybe if she ran
hard enough she could make it. Somehow, Crusader could break free
of the force-field and she could be free.

She chided herself; that line of thought was
foolish. Creatures with the power to create black-holes could
outrun anything.

Nova took a deep breath. Her heart beat
erratically in her chest. Every muscle in her body was tensed,
ready to spring.

She knew that her weapon would be useless
against the creatures without having to fire it. Perhaps if they
were without armour, then maybe her puny plasma pistol could do
something. As it was, they were all covered from head to foot,
unstoppable.

The only weapon she could be sure was strong
enough was one of theirs.

As if in response, loud voices signalled
another demonstration. The Ancients gathered in an armoured
semi-circle. One wielded a long black gun, the same length but much
thicker than the rifles Nova was used to.

Nova forced herself to watch every second of
the display. She had to know exactly how to use that gun. There
wouldn't be any time for practice shots.

The bigger creature, the leader, pointed at
the nearest tree. The Ancient lifted the weapon to its shoulder,
aimed, then fired. The gun kicked, sending the armoured beast three
paces back. There was no evidence of a gun blast or plasma bullet;
no bright spark or streak of lightning.

The tree collapsed on itself like a
cardboard box. Every limb, branch and leaf took a mighty heave and
fell inwards.

The impossibility of it all hit Nova like a
slap to the face.

The lead Ancient marched to where the tree
had been and bent down to something in the dirt. He heaved it up
and held it aloft. His arm shook. To Nova, it looked like he
clutched a tiny cube.

The creature tossed the cube towards the
other aliens. It didn't soar, as Nova would have expected, and fell
far short.

When the cube hit the ground, vibrations
shook the area. A wave of sand shot up leaving a car-sized crater
with the cube nestled at the very bottom.

"What the-" Nova's mind boggled.

"It's some kind of compression device," Cal
said. "It compacted every atom of that tree into a tiny cube. No
wonder it weighs so much."

Nova clenched her teeth and stared at the
static-filled screen. Her stomach rolled, bile rising to the back
of her throat. Cold gripped her heart and spread through her
body.

She had to get hold of the gun. With a
weapon like that, maybe she could protect the universe.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The aliens soon lost interest in the cube and the gun which
had created it. The weapon was laid against the large cannon. The
shiny rifle glimmered in the light from the remaining moon. It was
polished to a sharp sheen, despite being stored in the core of the
planet for who knew how many centuries.

Nova licked her lips; she wouldn't have
long. There was only once chance. She had to grab hold of the gun,
and tell them to back down or be killed. It wasn't much of a plan,
but it was the best she could do, given the circumstances. The last
thing she wanted to do was wait. The longer she took, the more
weapons and power the aliens would have. Better to take them out
now, when they were still waking up.