Kraken Mare (13 page)

“Wait, they're out of their cells?” Isaac asked. I nodded, distracted by the thought of mind control. Could someone have put those dreams into my head? My thoughts drifted back to the now-deceased Doctor Marillac. She had moved awkwardly, like a puppet on strings. Had someone been controlling her?

“Yep, they're out,” I answered as I thought of the implications of mind control.

The odds of my survival were not good.

“Oh God,” Isaac whimpered. “I thought you'd gone rogue or something.”

“Not yet,” I replied. “But I'm getting real damn close.”

“Where's Doctor Marillac? She has to know! She
must
know!” Isaac began to look frantically around the research level. “There are protocols for this.”

“She's dead,” I answered in a harsh, cold tone. “And yeah, I know the protocols. Why do you think I have a firearm and not a stunner?”

“She's…dead? What? How?” Isaac was shocked and horrified.

“I put a round into her head after she ate my boss.”

“What? You…
killed
her? How could you? Why?!”

“She ate Gerry.”

“Ate…how…?”

“Later,” I said and looked around the research level. It was dimly lit and empty of all the other scientists. Nobody else from my shift was down here. I needed to get Isaac somewhere safe before heading back up to Control. I could only hope that the layered prison cells held them to the west side of the station. If they managed to get past more than half of the security posts, then all hell truly would break loose.

The decision came easily to me. I grabbed Isaac by the back of the shirt and hauled him away from the plasteel. “Right now my job is to keep you alive. Worry about all that other shit later.”

“We're on a moon where everything can kill us!” Isaac's eyes were as wide as plates. “Air. Lake. Planet's surface. Everything! Where are you going to find safety here?”

The scientist had a point, as much as it bothered me to admit it. Inside the station was as safe as anywhere on this moon. Outside for any amount of time meant death, from either methane poisoning or the atmospheric pressure scrubbing the flesh from our bones before we would feel the pain. Theoretically, at least. Still though, I wasn't about to be the first volunteer to test that one.

It was a tough position for anyone to be in. It still didn't quite top the list of bad places I've found myself over the years, though. Which either says a lot about my career choices, or my decision-making abilities.

“Let's get to Central first,” I decided after running through our options a few more times in my head. “Control’s a lost cause, but Central might still be up and running. We'll worry about the dying part later.”

Chapter Eleven

“Science has made us gods even before we are worthy of being men.”

–Jean Rostand

I was shocked to find that Central was not only manned, but that both Thing One and Two had survived and taken control of the backup station. They had been equally surprised to see the two of us alive and relatively unharmed. Well, okay, Isaac was uninjured. I was nursing too many injuries to count. The Things looked like hell warmed over, but I was pretty sure my blood-and-gore covered shirt and pants trumped them both. Isaac’s pristine lab coat and well-groomed appearance was a stark contrast to us all. I wiped some blood on his sleeve.

I’ll admit it, I felt a rush of hope at finding the twins alive. The thought of trying to get the situation under control with only Isaac for help was depressing. Granted, we weren’t out of the woods yet– the odds were definitely against us, and we’d probably die trying. But hey, company!

Once I had Isaac safely tucked away in the corner and quiet, I turned and began giving orders to the Things, who apparently had been waiting for someone in charge to show up. Unfortunately, they only got me.

“Got the comms back up, but I’ve locked them out for now except on the emergency channel,” Poole told me as soon as I got Isaac out of the way. “Wi-Fi is back up but weak. Not sure why. General overhead PA system is back online as well. Someone did a number on the comms system but we’re good now. One of the maintenance people must have gotten into the system and fixed it.”

“Seal off the access tunnels and make certain that the elevator is disabled,” I said, staring at the monitors. Nine of the twelve tracking devices were showing cell breaches and movement. The last—Captain Holomisa's—showed that he was still in his cell, though the containment field had clearly failed. I recalled what Gerry had said and nodded to myself.
Treat a man like a man and he will act as such. Treat him as an animal…
“Sound off the alarm to upstairs. The Navy has to know. Where is everyone else? Last thing we need are hostages.”

“Posts One and Three are not responding,” Poole replied as he hastily complied, punching in various commands into his control console. “Two, Four and Five are secure.”

“Damn it,” I growled. Post One led to The Well, and Post Three led to the civilian quarters. Neither news was good, but hostages could make things even more dangerous than they already were. I had already suspected Post Three was down, since it would have stopped anyone from making it to the Doctor Marillac’s quarters. Some bad news was worse than others at this point, though. Of course, I had no idea why Post One would be down. Other than The Well, there was nothing down that way except for some maintenance areas that contained very little. “Have you heard from anyone who is a senior supervisor yet? What about Joseph?”

“No sign of Gerry anywhere that I can see,” Lockhart answered, his worried tone matching Poole's in a nearly-identical manner. “Voecks' comms and vitals aren’t registering, and I'm showing the same for Capdepon. You see Gerry out there?”

“April and Bigfoot are dead,” I swore under my breath. I didn’t have the heart to let them know that their boss was definitely dead, nor did I want to get into details and specifics. Admitting that Gerry was getting some from the scientist before she tore open his throat with her bare teeth would be horrible for morale. Plus, I didn’t want him to be remembered that way. “Gerry’s secure with Doctor M in her quarters”

“On the plus side, it appears that the prisoners aren't trying to make a break for the hangar just yet,” Poole informed us. “Both transport shuttles are locked down and only I've got the codes to unlock them. There's no way they'll know who did it, either, so once they figure that out, they'll want to negotiate. Then we'll own them.”

I had a bad feeling about the plan but couldn’t see a better alternative. I doubted that we would ever “own” them, so to speak. They’d been two steps ahead of us from the moment the jail break had begun. I doubted they would slip up this soon. “Fine. Let's focus on shoring up our defenses at the posts who are still responding. We have twenty-two guards in the facility and fifteen scientists. We've got to find someplace secure to establish a safe zone from where we can fight back from.”

“Don’t forget the maintenance crew,” Poole reminded me.

“How many are there?” I asked.

“Two dozen, but they’re wiped,” Poole stated. I stared at him, shocked.

“They let
wiped
do maintenance work?”

“They’re reprogrammed to only do their assigned tasks and go to their berthing,” Poole said in a defensive tone. “It’s part of their sentence.”

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed, defeated. I’d read about that, somewhere, but had completely forgotten about it. It wasn’t as if I saw much of the maintenance crews around anyway. Their mental reprogramming limited their communication skills as well as their decision-making. They were almost as good as autonomous androids, but were far cheaper and easier to maintain.

“How did they get out, anyways?” Lockhart asked as he punched in orders, “The prisoners I mean. Those spheres are supposed to be indestructible.”

“It only takes one to escape and let the others out,” I said. I thought back to my first tour of the facility. The cells had certainly seemed rather tough back then. Now, though, I wasn't so sure. Not after seeing whatever Jou had turned in to. Plus, my gut was telling me that something far worse was going on. I just wasn’t ready to admit it yet. “Give me a confirmation on the elevator being disabled.”

“Done. There's still the emergency stairwell, though,” Lockhart reminded him. I swore again in memory of being dragged up those damned stairs. If I ever saw them again, I’d firebomb something. “Plus The Well,” Lockhart added. The layout of the station was proving to be a tactical nightmare.

“The Well is suicide.” I paused, then added, “I think. None of the DSRV's can make it
up
The Well, right?”

“They're too big,” Lockhart confirmed. “They can go down and out, but not up. It’s a designed funnel.”

“Okay, I've got two ideas for that safe zone you were looking for,” Poole announced suddenly. “The scientist’s living quarters are on the way to the hangar. There's two ways in and out. The main entrance is defensible, and the back way means that any attacker would have to move all the way around the station and through the hangar to get in. This is good, except that it's nowhere near the armory. Anyone who isn't carrying is screwed.”

“What's the other option?” I scowled. “I don’t like the idea of being unarmed and trying to protect a bunch of civilians from a bunch of escaped convicts.”

“Unarmed?” Isaac piped up, surprise in his voice. “You’ve got the pistol you threatened to shoot me with!”

“Really?” Lockhart raised an eyebrow in my direction. I shrugged.

““I’m out of rounds,” I admitted to all present. I focused my attention on Isaac. “I wasn’t going to shoot you.”

“Sure seemed like you were,” he groused.

“The Observation Deck,” Poole interjected, getting the conversation back onto the rails. “It's only got one way in and out, which could mean a death trap. But it's also above the hangar, and the hangar is probably the best protected place on the station—outside of the cells, at least. Plus, the Armory is closer.”

“Not the best comparison,” I said, still scowling. I mentally ran through the schematics of the station. “Damn. Damn it all to hell.”

“What's up?” Lockhart looked at him.

“The Observation Deck is the safest place and easiest to secure.” An idea began to form. “We control Post Two. I think. That leads to the hangar and the Observation Deck. Send out a coded alert to everyone who has checked in. Post Two will be our rally point.”

“Rally point?” Poole asked, surprised.

“Yeah, a rally point.”

“A rally point usually means that we're rallying to somewhere,” Lockhart stated.

“We are. Or rather, we will. We have to take back this station. We'll start from Post Two. Civilians will be safe in the Observation Deck.”

“I don't know…” Poole's tone was filled with doubt
.

“Worst-case scenario, the civilians die last because there's nobody left to protect them.” I rolled my eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “C'mon, it's not as if we have a ton of options here. Outside of nuking this place from orbit—and considering that this place was
dropped from orbit
, I seriously doubt a nuke will hurt it—our only options are to take back the base or run. My knees ache and I'll probably have a bad back one day, so you can understand why I hate running. Plus that means leaving civilians behind. Helpless, mostly innocent civilians. Nowhere in my NDA or contract does it state that I am to abandon my post and leave everyone else to die if the feces strikes the rotary impeller. So that means we take back the station. From Post Two. Any more questions?”

The duo was silent. I gave Isaac a curt nod before I gave my orders to the Things.

“Good. Code that message. I'll be back.”

“Where are you going?” Poole asked as he began to relay information through Central's hub. I grabbed one of the PDA ear buds that we almost never used and popped it in. As expected, the device was the wrong shape for my ear and a dull ache began almost immediately. However, in a situation like this, it was worth the discomfort. It would allow for me to remains hands-free at crucial times.

“Someone's got to go check the Armory and see what type of weapons we have. Might as well be me.” I pointed to the screen. “Looks like the way is clear. No better time than the present.”

ঠ

The path to the Armory remained remarkably clear the entire length of my harrowing yet short walk. I was fortunate to have the Things in my ear, since they could keep an eye out and warn me about any impending danger. It was still a psychological ordeal, though, one I didn’t want to repeat anytime soon.

I spotted the door which led into the Armory. There were no guards posted, which wasn’t too surprising. I was a little more shocked that none of the prisoners had tried to take it yet. Then again, thinking back to what I had seen Jou turn into, they probably didn’t even need the weapons the Armory provided. I keyed the door to the Armory and stepped inside, making sure it closed securely behind me. That done, I looked around.

Ok, I’ll admit it, I wiped away a tear of sheer joy. A manly tear, dammit.

Guns. Guns everywhere. So many guns, and neatly arranged on the racks, a shopper’s dream come true. The image made me wish I was Jou’s size and strength just so I could carry more. I moved through the storage area, muttering to myself.

“All I’ll need is this rifle, really. And these pistols. That’s all I’ll need.” I started strapping on holsters, slinging the carbine across my back. “And these magazines. The rifle, these magazines, and these pistols. That’s all I need. And these flash bangs. I shouldn’t need anything else. Just the rifle, magazines, pistols, flash bangs, and this baton. Oh dear God in Heaven, is that a bullpup .50 caliber submachine gun? Fuck me, it is. That’s it. That’s all I… Ooh, body armor!”

The fight with Jou had rattled me a bit. This, naturally, led me to start quoting every damn movie I’d ever seen. It helped me both get my brain back on track as well as prepare me for any surprised which may come up. I hated walking into a situation blind, and the random banter with myself helped calm me down a bit. Besides, who knew what the other prisoners would be able to do? Lift a shuttle? Leap tall buildings in a single bound? No, that was too insane. There was a point where enough was enough.

Was I at the breaking point yet? I couldn’t be sure. Better safe than sorry. I went for more weapons.

“Okay, that should be good. Rifle, pistols, magazines, flash bang grenades, and the baton. Leave the bullpup? Yeah, yeah, better leave the bullpup. That’s all I need. Shouldn’t need anything else. Wait…are those breaching charges?”

“John,” Lockhart’s voice came over the earpiece. “Who are you talking to?”

“Just thinking out loud.” I clanked a bit with each step. “There’s a couple of packs here, I’ll load them up with small arms for you guys.”

Several more pistols and ammo went in the backpacks, along with a roll of duct tape. There’s always duct tape. I juggled things around until it was reasonably balanced out. Beggars can’t be choosers.

I looked back down at the breaching charges. An evil thought came to mind.

“Hey Lockhart, you there?”

“What’s up?”

“How’s the fire suppression system in the hangar bay? It’s a Halon-type of system, right? Just like the ones they use on Navy vessels?”

“Uh…why?”

“Better question: can we turn it off?”

“Why?”

“Actually, can we safely activate the Halon-3303 and dump it all into the hangar
after
I do something and get to a safe area?”

“
Why?!
”

“I have a really stupid idea,” I admitted, “but if it works, then it’s not stupid. Right?”

“What the…?”

“Relax,” I interrupted in the best soothing tone I could possibly manage given the circumstances we were in. “The worst thing that could happen is that I kill us all.”