Amish Vampires in Space (53 page)

“It is wondrous.”

Seal turned toward the engine again. “I suppose it is, if you squint at it long enough. I find it unsettling.”

Jeb could barely take his eyes off it. He almost felt sorry when he had to leave. The next room contained a desk similar to the one in Jeb’s room, except it was longer and completely dark. There was a smaller window into the engine room here, as well.

“A diagnostic area,” Seal said. “We could stop the engine here, but then we couldn’t steer the ship. Unfortunately.”

The captain led them on. They reached a room with a narrow spiral staircase. Seal led them to the stairway and then up. The room above appeared much darker and had a bit of a red cast to it. As they ascended, Seal brought out his com unit, and with an adjustment, was able to produce a narrow beam of light. Singer did the same.

“One more room,” Seal whispered, “and we’ll be near the foot of the bubble.” He ascended into the room above and stepped clear. The rest of them followed. Quietly, they climbed free of the stairway. Formed a half-circle around it.

The lighting was incredibly dim and there was a faint sickly sweet smell—like rotting apples. Singer and Seal played their light over the floor of the room.

“Wasn’t this one of the office corrals?” Singer whispered. “It looks entirely empty now. Where are all the dividers?”

There was an uneasy feeling to the room. A sense of closeness that didn’t seem right in a room that appeared so empty. Their lights reached out only a few meters in every direction. What were they missing?

Singer took a few steps, paused, and suddenly moved her light all around her. “Hey,” she said. “I just felt a drop of something, I—”

Seal hushed her and slowly turned his light toward the ceiling.

All fell silent.

• • •

The microbay was quiet for many minutes after the captain’s party left. The individuals in the room drifted into groups. The Amish formed a group near Jebediah’s work bench. The few Englishers—namely Darly, Greels, and Tenra—formed a small group of their own. Only Sarah remained apart. She stood near the now-closed doorway, one hand on the door’s edge, another on her hip. She smiled when she noticed Darly watching, but then lowered her eyes to the floor again.

“What do we do now?” Greels asked. “We can’t just wait here. They’ll find us.”

“No, we can’t,” Darly said. “But where would we be safer?”

Greels snorted. “In a loading shuttle,” he said. “About a hundred light years from here.”

“Impossible,” she said. “Not while the—”

Greels scowled. “Don’t lecture me, I know that.” He looked at Tenra. “This one really likes her rank. Uses it all the time. Even confined me. For trying to save us…”

Tenra hung on each word, eyes wide. Darly couldn’t believe the intern—if that’s what she truly was—could see
anything
in the greasy loading supervisor. Yet she seemed genuinely interested in him. Latent effect of cryo-sleep? Some sort of bonding behavior? Like hatchlings for a mother duck? Darly didn’t know, but she suspected there was a research paper in it. But first she wanted to smack them both.

“I’m going to my lab,” Darly said. “To the medical office. I want to test some things. Try to see if there is another way I can help.” She looked at Tenra. “You’re welcome to come. I’m sure your knowledge would be useful.”

Tenra glanced at Greels. “Will Mr. Greels be coming?”

Greels scowled. “I’m supposed to stay here,” he said. “Guard the flock.”

Tenra nodded. “Then I’ll stay with you.”

“This is no time for…” Darly looked to the sky, shook her head. “Tenra, we could make a difference, I think.”

Tenra squinted her eyes together, brought a hand to her forehead. “Ahh! I can’t…” She wobbled a bit, and Greels quickly steadied her. Tenra smiled but kept her eyes closed, massaged her temples. “I don’t know what this is, but I better sit here a while.” She eased to the floor but looked up at Darly apologetically. “I need more time to recover, I think. You can call his communicator, right? If you have a question?”

Darly nodded. “If I could, I’d order you to come with me to let me check you out. But since you aren’t really one of us…” She turned to find Sarah standing behind her. She was listening but trying to appear like she wasn’t. “Just the person I wanted.” Darly smiled. “Would you accompany me? I could use some help. And some companionship.”

“You’re going to go by yourself?” Greels glanced at the group of Amish. “You shouldn’t go out by yourself. Maybe one of the beards will go with you. Give you someone to trip, if, you know, bat-things come your way. Just trip them and run.”

Darly narrowed her eyes. “We’ll be okay. Medical is close.” The captain’s two guns were leaned against one wall. She pointed at them. “I’ll take one of those.”

Greels looked unconvinced but nodded anyway. “Yeah, just leave one for me. I don’t want to use that Amish stuff.”

Darly nodded.

Ten minutes later she and Sarah arrived safely at the medical center. She unlocked the door to find the lights in the reception center flickering. There was a new smell present, as well. It was both pungent and synthetic, as if all the center’s medicinal supplies had been emptied and mixed together. Darly thought she detected the scent of roses in the mix, as well. She brought her weapon up and tried to act like she knew how to use it. Killing things was not something that came naturally, but she could learn.

“What has happened here?” Sarah whispered.

Darly shook her head. To the right, the reception area was completely trashed. The table was upended, one of its legs splintered off. All the seats were shoved out of place. Reading boards were scattered on the floor. Active artwork torn from the walls. There were dark smears on the walls, as well.

She brought her wrist to her mouth. Concentrated on breathing, on staying in control.

The reception desk was out of place too—swung wildly to the right. She noticed something on the floor behind it. A heap of blue, roughly two meters long. Her eyes went wide and she hurried to it. She stooped and rolled it over. Swore.

Behind her, Sarah gasped. “Who is it?”

Darly shook her head. “One of my assistants, Dixon. A kind man.” She pushed at her eyes, wiped wetness away. “He’s gone.” She did a visual check of his neck. It had been pierced in two places. The same bite wounds she’d seen on Candle. “He must’ve come in like normal.” She fought with her emotions. “Of course, there was no warning. No real effort to warn anyone. No time.”

“I am truly sorry,” Sarah said.

Both drew quiet, studying the downed man.

“Pardon me,” Sarah said finally. “Could he…get back up?”

Darly felt a twinge of anger, but realizing the honesty of the question, she pushed the emotion away. She searched the reception area, found the table’s broken leg. It had a jagged point on it. It would work. “Only one way to be sure…” She positioned the leg on Dixon’s chest and used the end of the gun to drive it in. Dixon did nothing, thankfully.

“Again, I’m—”

There was a rattle and a sound of movement followed by an uncanny shriek. The snort of a pig with the wail of a jackal. A chill ran down Darly’s back. Something swooped overhead. Something large.

Sarah yelled.

Darly turned and backed away. She felt the air moving above her. More alien snorts. She saw a dark shadow swoop into the reception area. It was about a meter long and half a meter wide, with wings and feet. The latter clattered along a wall as the animal banked and turned. It aimed for Sarah, who was still standing in the middle of the room. But when it got to within a meter of her, it squealed, made a midair backpedal, and moved away toward the hall that led to the examination rooms.

Darly recovered her gun and fired. Missed. The shot and the narrowness of the hall seemed to spook the animal further. It growled, turned their way, attempted to swoop low, but got shaky in flight. Seemed to lose its momentum. Darly shot again and connected. The animal sizzled with energy, screamed, and dropped to the floor.

They approached the creature warily, with Darly keeping the gun focused on it. It rustled a few times as they got closer, snorted, but then grew very still. It was brownish-grey and the face was pig-like, as were the limbs. But above the forelimbs were two long webbed appendages, very much like bat wings. Black. There were sharp fangs at the end of the snout.

“Is that a flying pig?” Sarah asked.

Darly nodded. “I believe so.”

“I guess we’ve seen everything now, haven’t we?”

“I guess we have.” Darly frowned. “I wasn’t expecting that. The physical changes are much more pronounced now. Shifting between baselines.” She poked at the creature with the end of her gun. When nothing happened, she stooped over it and grabbed it at the crux of the wing. “Quick, help me get it to the examination room. This could be important.”

Samuel’s pain was omnipresent. It saturated
every fiber of his being. His soul wept both remorse and regret. Only a few dozen of his flock remained now: an even mix of men, women, and children. Barely enough to sit around the table for dinner, much less start again on another world.

They were lost. Lost like his wife and grown children. Like everything they’d left on Alabaster.

It was not about how you felt, of course, but how you behaved. And he would act righteously until the end. Even in old age, he would be a rock. A banner of truth. That was all he had.

Standing amidst the objects from Jebediah’s barn, he reflected on the irony. On the mockery of making weapons using the tools of one so far from righteousness. Wasn’t that what the Scriptures taught, though? How one sin led to another, even larger sin? A cascade of decadence. Sorrow pierced him again. He felt for the souls of those that were gone. And for Jebediah. But the Lord had absolved Samuel of that. He brought up his hands for the others to see.

“We should pray now,” he said. “We can do nothing more.” There were nods, and the Amishers formed a rough circle. The two others, the one who always wore short-sleeve shirts and his new lady friend, just stood near the door. The man attempted to act like he wasn’t watching. But the girl seemed distinctly interested.

“You may join us, if you like,” Samuel said, smiling. “I will not ask you to pray.”

The young woman just shook her head. Continued to watch.

Samuel only nodded and bowed his head. He missed having a hat to remove, he realized. His heart seemed exposed without it. “Oh Lord, we don’t know why You have brought us to this present trouble, but we are certain You have a plan in it. Protect our members wherever they are. Protect the Englishers, as well. Save all that can be saved. Use us as You see fit. Keep us ever on Your path. Your will be foremost and forever. Amen.”

Deacon Mark prayed then, but Samuel barely heard what was said. Though there had been much betrayal—by both Jebediah and James—the failure of the settlement ultimately rested with him. He could not see his error. He was blind to where he had gone wrong. He had followed the Ordnung all his days. Followed it diligently.

But now there was only confusion and sorrow.

• • •

Tenra tapped Greels arm, then tugged on it, causing him to stoop closer. She brought her mouth next to his ear. The closeness warmed him. And the touch of her breath on his face? Exhilarating. “What are they doing?” she whispered, cupping hand over mouth.

Greels snorted. “A crazy Amish thing. Calling the wind for help or something.”

“A religious exercise?”

“Yeah, they call it ‘praying,’ I think.” He shrugged. “Better than them talking to me, I guess. ’Cause I wouldn’t help ’em.”

“They believe they are talking to a deity?”

He nodded. “They do it all the time. They believe they’ve got a leg up on the rest of us. A com unit straight to God. Can’t fly a shuttle or run a smartloader, but
God
they can handle.” He frowned. “The nerve, right?”

She smiled. “You have no proof they
aren’t
talking to God. They could be. Animals don’t have com units, but they manage to do all sorts of things. Communicate over large distances. And sometimes without sound.”

Greels smiled. “Why, aren’t you the little defender? Looking out for the backward.”

Tenra blushed. “Does it bother you?”

Greels shook his head. “Not at all, young lady. I continue to be shamed by your presence. Makes me want to—” He felt a wave of nervousness, of sudden insecurity. He glanced at the Amish again. They were starting to sing now. Blazes, they were weird.

“Want to what?” Tenra fully turned his direction, looked up into his eyes.

So sweet, so perfect. “I want to get out of here,” he said. “With you.”

Tenra’s eyes widened. “But the captain said…he said we can’t leave. Not while the ship is moving.”

“Yeah, but it’ll have to stop eventually. My guess is it is on auto now, and that means it’ll stop at Obelisk, regardless.” The singing stopped. Greels noticed the old Amish man was sorting through the pile of weapons. He selected one of the sharpened sticks and seemed to be studying it. He then turned it so the point was up and leaned on it carefully. Used it to help him walk. Greels rolled his eyes. “Anyway, we can get off at the stop. Grab a shuttle and just head out.”