Amish Vampires in Space (56 page)

• • •

The sun filled enough of the bubble now that any bay that was opened would be bathed in its light. There were no sounds from below the hatch. The four occupants of the bubble exchanged questioning looks. Hopeful looks.

Finally, Seal held up a hand. He walked stealthily to the hatch and disengaged the lock. Slowly pried it open.

The chamber below appeared empty. He laid on the bubble floor so he could lean his torso down through the hole and look again. No vampires anywhere.

“Okay…looks like they’re gone from here, at least. Go check the scraddle.”

Jebediah and Singer both exited the bubble, leaving the young man with Seal. A few moments later Seal heard a commotion from below. Then Singer’s voice came up the ladder. “Scraddle is a no,” she said. “Smeared with lots of stuff. It’ll take me awhile to figure it out.”

Seal resisted swearing, but it was difficult. “But we have other forms of communication, right? Flashing the lights or something?”

Singer was on the ladder, coming up. “Something like that. Everything else we have is limited by the speed of light. Semaphore strobing, radio…”

“Which means?”

She raised her shoulders. “Means that, from our current distance, it will take some time to get a message to Obelisk and back. Hours, probably.”

He scowled and swiped the pilot’s desk. Navigated through the sundry command and control ledgers. Miscellany galore. Finally, he found what he was looking for: the bay door controls. He moved down the list until he found 17. “Let’s hope Darly’s other theory works.”

Singer took a seat in the co-pilot’s position to Seal’s left. “If nothing else, we have them contained now, right?”

“Do we? Anyone want to go out and search?”

Singer started manipulating the desk. Ripples formed and coalesced as her hands danced across its surface. Soon it was filled with an array of interior views. She studied them, then massaged a corner of the desk, filling the screen with still more images. “I can’t see any yet from the onboard cameras. Slides, bays, hallways…”

“What about Bay 17?” Seal asked.

Singer frowned, shook her head.

“What?”

“The Amish asked for the cameras there to be disabled, remember?”

Seal shut his eyes, giving a frustrated sigh. “Yeah, I remember that request. Seemed trivial at the time. I mean, there was no danger of theft. Or violence.” He opened his eyes. “Did you check anyway?”

She nodded. “Nothing but black.” A shrug. “Still, if I was to bet on anyone, it would be Darly. I think it worked. I think they’re there.”

“But aren’t there prisoners?” the young man said. “My people? Maybe your people too?”

Seal nodded. “You can’t just contain evil, can you?” He put his finger on the door control. “Let’s let in a little light…”

He pressed the control. It winked green, then went to red.

“Uh-oh.”

• • •

Jebediah returned to the bubble. Everyone looked worried. Frustrated. Above, the sun of this new system shined brightly, obscuring the rest of the heavens. Blanking the stars. The visibility was good enough that he could see dark spots on the sun’s surface. It made him wonder what it would look like through the prism he used on Alabaster.

“So we can’t do anything from here?” Singer said.

Seal shook his head. “I have the shields calibrated correctly, but I can’t open the 17’s doors. Lots of space between here and there. Sometimes you see that. Usually it isn’t an issue.”

“Because we open them locally,” Singer said, frowning. “From inside the bay itself.”

Seal nodded. “There are two switches there, actually. One is in the bay control center, the other on the floor. Not that that’ll do any good. The place is filled with vampires by now.”

“The control center should be accessible,” Singer said.

“No,” Seal said. “When the doors are closed, the control center is positioned near the ceiling. Above the room.” He sighed. “We should probably just worry about the scraddle. Take our chances on some help. We have the situation controlled for now.”

“There is no other solution?”

Seal looked at Jebediah. “The bay doors won’t open.”

“Can we send the creatures somewhere else,” Jebediah asked. “To another room that opens?”

“Not a bad idea…” Seal returned his attention to the desk. Swiped and pressed on it a few times. Scowled. “Looks like we can’t open
any
of the doors from here. So much for maintenance doing their job.”

“Could be sabotage,” Singer said. “Like the scraddle.”

“There
were
goats all over your ship,” Jeb said, frowning. “Hungry goats.”

Seal cradled his head with a hand. “Makes no difference now,” he said. “We’re stuck.”

“And how long will Darly’s pheromones keep them?” Singer said. “The symbiote seems to adapt.”

Seal nodded again. “We’re on borrowed time, no matter what.”

“I will go,” Jebediah said.

“Go where?” Singer asked.

“To open the door,” Jeb said.

Seal took a long breath. Frowned. “I don’t think you understand,” he said. “The switches are
inside
the bay. With the vampires.”

Jeb nodded. “They were my people. Perhaps they won’t bother me. Or think I’m one of them.”

Singer motioned toward the hatch. “They have changed quite a bit. At least, the ones that were here. I think they’ll know you’re different.”

Seal looked at Jeb. Smiled softly. “Listen, Jebediah, you’re a good man. Whatever sin, whatever wrong your people feel you’ve committed, well, I think you’ve more than atoned for that. The rest of the ship should be fairly safe.” Seal motioned toward the young man. “I’ve told Greels to get the survivors out on a shuttle. You two should try to join them. Singer and I can handle it from here.”

Jeb shook his head. “There could still be prisoners in that bay. Those that have not been affected. They are my community.” His throat hitched, and he found himself looking at the floor. “As are you.” A nod. “I will go.”

“You can’t earn it, Jeb,” Singer said softly. “Salvation. It is a gift. Either accepted or rejected. But still a gift.”

Jeb nodded. “I understand. The notion brings me comfort.” A quick smile. “This will be
my
gift.”

She shook her head, bowed to look at the desk in front of her. She started manipulating the void there. Pushing maps and lists around. Hiding.

Seal snapped his fingers. “Maybe we could get Darly to douse you in Sarah’s pheromones. That would help, wouldn’t it?”

“But we just used those pheromones to get the vampires into 17,” Singer said without turning. “Can we risk driving them out again?”

“Regardless, it would take time,” Jebediah said. “Time the prisoners may not have.” He felt a lump form in his chest. He scratched his head to try to distract himself. To mollify the feeling. “Please tell Sarah she is an honorable woman. A dependable helpmate. She’ll make a wonderful mother.” He nodded. “I love her dearly. I will go, if only for her.”

“I’ll go with you,” the young man said. “They’re my people too.”

Jeb shook his head. “No, just me. You should try to join the others.” He gave Seal an imploring look.

Seal nodded. “Yes, we’ll loan you a com unit to help you find them…” He leaned forward and picked up one of the crossbows from the floor. Held it out for Jeb. “At least take this with you.”

Jeb nodded, took the crossbow and remaining bolts, and moved toward the ladder.

Singer waved him back, pointed at her screen. On it was an wireframe design of some sort. Like something a builder would use. “This is a schematic of the bay.” She pointed to a square near the top. “There’s an overhead door control here, in the control center.” She pointed to the right side of the drawing, “And here, near the inside entrance.” She indicated the top again. “The control center is the only one you can probably get to, though, so memorize that location. You’ll have to climb to get there.”

She gave him a moment to take it all in, and swiped the screen again. A rectangle with two arrows was displayed. “The control itself is just a small screen, similar to the wall device you used to call the captain before, remember?”

Jeb nodded.

“It is like that, but smaller. And hearty looking. Like it can take a beating. Because they usually do.” She paused, pointed at the arrow-filled rectangle. “It is hard for me to know exactly how the control face will look, because the operators aren’t necessarily consistent in how they leave them, but what you’re looking for is this.”

Seal smiled halfheartedly. “The door control operates just like a desk, Jeb, and I know you know how to use those. Just move things around until you find that image. Then press it. The doors will open.”

Jeb stepped away from the desk. Singer didn’t look back. “Take one of our com units too,” she said. “So we can help you. Guide you if you need it.”

Seal tossed him his com unit. “That works just like a desk too.”

Jeb bowed, looked at Singer’s back, then at the youth again. “I’m sorry about your parents, son. I am partially to blame.”

He gripped the ladder. Began his descent.

With a little guidance over the com unit, Jeb was
able to find his way back to the long “red” slide that led back to the larger bays. He considered ’fliding again, but decided to conserve his energy. He didn’t know what he would have to do. In fact, he didn’t know if he could do anything at all. But putting himself in the place of opportunity, in the position to be used, seemed right and just. So he would do that. It was no longer about him and Sarah, or the people of Alabaster. It was, it seemed, much bigger than everything he’d known.

Who is my neighbor? It was a question from the Scriptures. From Mark’s message long ago. Jebediah thought he might finally have the answer.

He wore the captain’s com unit attached to his waist, like he’d seen the others wear it. It felt uncomfortable, even though it was light. Its mere presence would’ve gotten him shunned on Alabaster. Good thing he was shunned already.

Of course, he had a crossbow slung over his back, as well. A double-shunning?

The com unit vibrated and he reached for it. He was thankful when the image of Singer appeared without effort. He wouldn’t have to navigate its small screen.

“Jeb?” she said. “I figured some things out here.” A pause. “Where are you?”

Jeb searched for a sign ahead. “Near bay number thirteen.”

“You’re close. Okay. Good. There’s an overlook for Bay 17. I need you to get off at that slideway stop.”

“The captain said the controls were within the bay…”

“They are. But there are two, remember. You’ll need to use the one in the control room. It is the only way this can work. Only way we have a chance.”

Jeb nodded. “I appreciate you looking out for me.”

Singer shook her head. “I know you feel responsible, but I’m responsible too. I helped you talk your people into leaving.”

“Perhaps we both have sinned then.”

“We did our best with the information we had. We’re not omniscient. Either of us.”

“Samuel would say that’s why there are laws.”

Singer shook her head. “Perhaps. But I’d say that’s why there is grace.”

“You are a thoughtful woman, Miss Singer. My Sarah is like that. Keeps me ever guessing.”

Singer’s hand touched her eyes, and her cheeks seemed to redden. “You’re lucky to have her. We all are now.” She touched her eyes again. Shook her head. “Call me when you get to the overlook. I need you to do something before you proceed.”

“What’s that?”

“I need you to change your clothes.”

“Now you really remind me of Sarah.”

• • •

Jeb reached the inspection overlook. The room was a small rectangle, with only a railing on the side facing the bay. It reminded him of a milking stall more than anything. That’s all there was room for. Him and a hopefully-compliant Holstein. Not Clara.

All memories of Alabaster were banished by the view beyond the railing, though. The room was dim except in a few places. The area where the Amisher dwellings had been was now a disorganized pile of belongings. A heap of used and discarded things. Portions of the dwelling walls still surrounded the heap, though, as if it was the approved dumping ground for this new “community.”

To the left of that section was the area where the animal pens used to be. These pens were still in use, but they had been reconfigured. Enlarged to hold their new livestock—human beings. There were places here where lights had been affixed. He could see dozens of humans, both Amisher and Englisher, gathered in clumps. Some sitting, some apparently sleeping. Some eating. All looked worn and abused. Soiled.

What frightened him most, though, were the others. There were hundreds of them. Large masses huddled together on the ceiling amidst what he’d once thought were support structures, but what he now thought were small pathways. The creatures appeared to be resting, but they weren’t still. There was constant movement and sound. The noise was a mixture of squeals and human murmuring. Occasionally a creature would drop from the ceiling, flutter its wings, and find another part of the mass to roost in. The others would shift and make room for him. Then another would wing across the air. Perpetual motion.