Deathstalker (4 page)

Hazel’s fire control exploded, throwing her out and across the bridge. She landed hard, driving the breath from her lungs, her uniform blackened and scorched. She was badly burned, but for the moment, shock smothered most of the pain. She rolled slowly onto her side, fighting to stay conscious. She could hear Markee giving orders in a calm, reasonable voice. Lover Boy. Hazel clung to the thought as she forced herself up onto her knees. Lover Boy was an experimental program the Captain had acquire on Brahmin II. It was called Lover Boy because love laughs at locksmiths, and because the program was designed to give another ship’s security systems a real good screwing. The Captain was going to use Lover Boy to get the
Darkwind
to drop her force shields, and then ram her. The
Shard
would hit like a single huge torpedo, and that would be the end of the
Darkwind
. And the
Shard
.

Hazel lurched to her feet, grabbed the nearest station to steady herself, and glared through the smoke and flames at Captain Markee.

“
Are you crazy? We’ll all be killed!
”

He didn’t answer her. His gaze was fixed on his computer displays, and he was laughing. Hazel looked wildly round for help, only to find she and Markee were the only living crew left on the bridge. The rest were dead at their stations. Hazel staggered away from the bridge, stumbling through the smoke and wreckage. If she was quick, she could still
get to an escape pod before the two ships hit. And if she was really lucky, the escape pod would still be working.

The corridor lurched back and forth as Hazel forced herself into a run. Adrenaline was putting strength back into her legs, but she knew that wouldn’t last long. Solid steel creaked and groaned around her as the ship began to break up. Markee had to be directing most of the
Shard
’s remaining power into the force shields, but some of the punishment was getting through anyway. The lights were going out, one by one. Hazel tried to contact Hannah through her comm implant, but the AI was still talking gibberish, mumbling to itself in a querulous voice.

Hazel rounded a corner and then stumbled to a halt. One of the bulkheads had been blown inward, blocking the corridor completely. Spikes of jagged metal thrust out in all directions, some of it still glowing cherry-red from the heat of the recent explosion. Hazel took the opportunity to get her breath back, and studied the situation as calmly as she could. Panicking or screaming with rage might feel good, but it wouldn’t get her anywhere. The first real pain from her burns was beginning to gnaw at her, but she forced the awareness down to a level she could deal with. She grabbed hold of a few spikes that were only uncomfortably warm and tried to shift the steel mass, but it didn’t budge an inch. She bit her lower lip, scowling. This was the only way to the escape pods. She had to get through.

Her hand fell to the gun on her hip. Using an energy weapon in a confined space was always dangerous, but nowhere near as dangerous as being trapped here when the two ships hit. She drew her disrupter, set it to maximum dispersal and fired before she could think better of it. The raging energy beam punched a hole clean through the steel barrier, leaving a tunnel that stretched away into the metal for as far as she could see. It wasn’t much of a tunnel, three feet in diameter at most, but it would have to do. She just hoped it would have an opening at the other end.

The sides of the hole glowed red with a sullen heat, and Hazel knew she couldn’t afford to touch them. But she was going to have to crawl through the tunnel on all fours, and that meant contact with her hands and knees. Her uniform would protect her knees, for a while anyway, but she’d have to do something to protect her bare hands. She put away her gun, drew her backup knife from her boot and cut away one
of her sleeves. She cut the cloth in two again, put away her knife, and wrapped the cloth around her hands. She looked again at the red-hot sides of the tunnel before her and winced. This was going to be really unpleasant. She swallowed hard and clambered quickly into the opening before she could change her mind.

The heat hit her from all directions, and she could feel the skin of her face tightening and smarting. Sweat poured off her, evaporating in seconds. She crawled on through the steel tunnel, and the heat seared her hands and knees even through the protecting cloth. She hurried as much as she could, but it was a narrow space with no room to maneuver. Her back brushed against the tunnel roof now and again, and she had to grit her teeth against the heat and pain. The cloth pads she’d made for her hands started to smoke. Her eyes narrowed to watering slits against the fiery air, and her lungs felt scorched with every breath. The metal creaked and groaned around her as though it might collapse at any moment. Hazel’s heart hammered in her chest, and a blind unreasoning fear gnawed at her self-control till she wanted to scream. But she didn’t. Screaming wouldn’t help. She forced herself on through the heat, shuffling forward on hands and knees that seemed to be one blazing mass of pain. She could smell her flesh burning. Tears ran down her face, as much from frustration as pain, evaporating almost at once.

And then she was out of the tunnel, and the heat fell away from her like a burning blanket. She’d made her way through the obstruction. She was back in the open corridor, and the cool air was like a blessing. She lurched to her feet, gritting her teeth at the pain in her hands and knees and back till her jaw ached. Her leggings had burnt right through, and the blackened cloths around her hands fell apart as she tried to unwrap them. She stumbled on, not daring to look at her hands, trying to find the strength to hurry. She had no idea of how much time she had left. Her struggle in the steel tunnel had seemed to last forever.

Most of the lights were out now, and the ship was dark and echoing. The smell of smoke was heavy in the air. She forced herself on, having to guess the right way as often as not, but finally she came to the escape pods, sitting calmly in their racks as though they had all the time in the world. Hazel just stood and stared numbly at them for a long moment. All her strength had gone into getting her here, and
she seemed to have none left to do anything else. A series of explosions shook the ship, jarring her back to her senses. She stumbled over to the nearest pod and hit the activation button with her blackened fist. The door swung open maddeningly slowly, and the interior of the pod lit up as its systems came on-line. Hazel clambered inside and sank into the waiting crash-webbing with something like relief. It felt so good to be off her feet at last. The door hissed shut behind her, and she worked her jaw to pop her ears as the air pressure changed.

The pod’s cabin was barely a dozen feet long, with just enough room for two passengers. It occurred to Hazel that it was not unlike lying in a coffin, and the thought amused her briefly. A fitting fate for a would-be grave-robber. She pushed the thought aside and painfully forced her blistered and stiffened fingers through the series of commands that would eject the pod from the
Shard
. She braced herself for the impact, and only slowly realized that nothing was happening.

She ran through the launch sequence again, crying out at the pain in her hands, but still there was no response. Panic flared up in her, and the cramped confines of the escape pod were suddenly unbearably claustrophobic. She started to get up out of the crash-webbing and only stopped herself with an effort of will. There was no point in leaving the pod; the
Shard
was a death ship now. Her only hope for survival was to make the pod work. The panic began to die away as she made herself study the problem logically. There was nothing wrong with the pod itself or it would have showed up on the control panels, which meant the problem lay outside. In the launching systems. Systems controlled by the ship’s AI … Hannah.

Hazel accessed the AI through her comm implant, but there was only silence. The lack of response was somehow more worrying than the previous gibberish. Hazel called again. There was someone listening; she could feel it. When the answer finally came, it was like a whisper at midnight, as though the sound was traveling from somewhere impossibly far away.

“Hazel, everything feels wrong. Parts of me are missing, and I can’t find them. I can’t think properly. There are shadows in my memories, running loose like rats in a barn. Help
me, Hazel. Stop them. Please stop them … it’s so cold in here, and I’m afraid. …”

“Hannah! Listen to me, Hannah. I’m stuck in escape pod seven. I need you to run through the launch sequence for me. Can you hear me, Hannah?”

“Forget the AI,” said Captain Markee calmly, patching into the channel. “She’s falling apart, like everything else on this ship. The
Shard
’s on her last run, going out in a blaze of glory. I’ve activated the pod launch from the bridge. You’ll be on your way in a moment. Just as well. You’d never have made a good clonelegger, Hazel. Too soft where it matters. If you get out of this alive, raise a drink to me and the
Shard
. She was a good ship.”

His voice faded out at the end, and before Hazel could say anything, the escape pod blasted out of its hatch and plummeted toward the planet below.

On the bridge of the
Darkwind
, Captain Silence studied the small craft on his viewscreen as it slowly closed the distance between them. The
Darkwind
’s disrupters had hammered away most of the pirate’s force shields, and it was only a matter of time now before they failed entirely. And once that happened, it would all be over in seconds. It was a miracle the pirate’s shields had lasted this long. The Captain must have drained the ship’s batteries dry to power them. The ship continued to drift closer, and Silence frowned thoughtfully. The pirate was up to something; he could feel it in his bones. He glanced at the Investigator beside him and saw that she was scowling intently at the viewscreen, too.

“Pirate ship’s speed increasing, Captain,” said his comm officer suddenly. “Accelerating steadily toward us.”

“He’s trying to ram us,” said Frost. “The force shields will stop him.”

“But he must know that,” said Silence slowly. “So why is he doing it?”

“Captain!” The comm officer’s voice was sharp and concerned. “Our shields are dropping! They don’t answer the control panels!”

“Odin!” said Silence. “What’s happening?”

“The pirate ship has infected my systems with a virus,” said the starcruiser’s AI. “Which is supposed to be impossible. It’s bypassing all my safeguards. I’ve never encountered
anything quite like this. Systems are crashing faster than I can isolate them. Our force shields are down, and I am unable to raise them again. The pirate ship will impact with us in six minutes and fourteen seconds.”

“Recommendations?” said Frost.

“Abandon ship,” the AI said flatly. “If you leave now, most of the escape craft will survive the ensuing blast and should make a safe landing on Virimonde. Go now, Captain. It’s the only chance you have.”

Silence looked at Frost and then round his magnificent bridge. So many systems, so many highly trained personnel, and still there was nothing he could do to save his ship. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He patched into the shipwide address channel, and then paused a moment longer to be sure his voice would be calm and steady when he spoke.

“Attention all hands. This is the Captain. Abandon ship. I say again, abandon ship. This is not a drill. Remember your training and make your way to the nearest escape craft. We’ll reassemble on Virimonde. Good luck, everyone. Captain out.”

He looked around him and clapped his hands briskly. “All right, that’s it. Clear the bridge. Everyone out.”

His people rose quickly to their feet and left the bridge with a professional minimum of fuss. Investigator Frost turned to go, and then stopped as she realized Silence wasn’t moving.

“Aren’t you coming, Captain?”

“No, Investigator. This Captain is going down with his ship. The main bulk of the
Darkwind
will probably survive the initial impact and only break up on entering the atmosphere. I have to be here to guide the ship down for as long as I can. I have to make sure the pieces will land safely in one of the oceans. Hundreds of thousands could be killed if any of the pieces were to land in an inhabited area.”

“You are more important,” said Frost calmly. “The Empire has a great deal of time and money invested in you, Captain. The colonists are just peasants. They don’t matter.”

“They matter to me. Clear the bridge, Investigator. There’s nothing you can say that will persuade me to leave.”

“No,” said Frost. “I don’t suppose there is.”

She hit him once, efficiently, and he slumped forward in his command chair, unconscious. Frost checked the pulse in
his neck, nodded once, and then picked the Captain up and slung him almost effortlessly over one shoulder.

“Odin, this is Investigator Frost. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged, Investigator.”

“The Captain is indisposed. I am placing you in command. You will do everything in your power to guide the ship down, so that its eventual impact does the minimum possible damage to inhabited areas. You understand I cannot take the risk of downloading you and taking you with us. There is no telling how much damage the infecting virus has done to your systems, or how infectious it remains.”

“Yes, Investigator. I understand.”

Frost looked once around the empty bridge. “Goodbye, Odin.”

“Goodbye, Investigator. Safe journey.”

Frost turned and left the bridge with the Captain still unconscious over her shoulder. The empty bridge was filled with the low sound of the AI singing quietly to itself and the pirate ship growing ever larger on the viewscreen.

The
Shard
and the
Darkwind
, locked together, cartwheeled slowly through the silent night, falling toward Virimonde.