Outward Borne (10 page)

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Authors: R. J. Weinkam

Tags: #science fiction, #alien life, #alien abduction, #y, #future societies, #space saga, #interstellar space travel

BOOK: Outward Borne
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The car was small, old, scuffed
up, and dirty. The bots spent some time maneuvering around in the
poorly lit box until they were attached securely to the walls. The
doors closed with a hiss. Even through their masks, the Cathians
could smell the stench. Zep could feel the car accelerate, just as
Kit described. The car seemed to travel a long way before it came
to a final stop. The door flew open and they were taken quickly
through some very large dark rooms and into a smaller
equipment-filled space. There they were left alone.

Pok risked looking around. Kit had
described the space and this seemed very similar. It was a large
room with ceilings higher than their habitat, filled with
instruments and equipment, hanging lights, tubes, and movable
racks. Pok signaled Zep. They slipped off the carts and removed the
breathing masks. It was up to Zep to make the first move; she
needed to stop looking around and concentrate.

Two odd looking little bots sat
motionless, shut down, no Hags were in sight. Zep could see a
series of large cages against the wall to her right, but she could
not make out who was there. The nearby bots seemed to be inactive.
Pok grabbed the weapons that had been plaguing her and gave Zep a
small pick, one of the sharp pointed weapons Sut had made from the
bits they took from the captured bots. As Zep moved closer,
something flew by her head; one of the small bots had jumped to
life. It was a mechanical bot, built to repair equipment, but it
was moving quickly. Zep was able to raise up high enough in the
reduced gravity to clear the bot and smash through its top before
it could turn around. She had to put her foot against the dead
machine to pull the pick free. The second bot had spun itself into
a corner and was easy prey for the enraged Cathian.

Pok picked up the remaining
weapons and took the time to tip over the large defenseless carrier
bots before they could move away. A small bot came from behind Zep
and turned quickly toward the door on the far side of the
laboratory. Pok ran after it and landed a fatal blow into the
computer brain. Zep was tense with excitement as if some memory of
Cathia’s violent and dangerous past had been revived. Pok and Zep
had hoped that the Hags would be in the lab when they arrived. Now
they would need to hunt them down.

Loft was still alive. Pok opened
the cage door. Loft took a step to go out, then stood staring
toward the far corner of the lab. She had fresh cuts on her head
and lower back. Pok called her name. She was about to ask Loft if
she was all right when Loft turned and stared past her with vacant
eyes. Pok could do nothing to help. She just left her be, she would
be safer here if things turned bad.

Til was in the next cage. She had
recovered after being struck down by the flybots and apparently had
been left alone. Til all but jumped onto Pok’s back when set free.
She latched on with all legs and wondered how, why, what, all at
once. Til was fine, scared to death, hungry, but still alive. Til
had a load of questions about how they had gotten there, but Pok
waved her off. There was no time for that. The Hags were probably
watching and might come at any time. Without further comment, Pot
grabbed a shield and an improvised spear and gave them to
Til.

Til had not seen any Hags
recently, but she thought one might be in the next room. Til showed
Zep and Pok the small sliding door they had used. Zep began
searching the room for anything useful. She found eight more air
tanks and some sharp blades that could be used as knives, though
they were rather small. She piled her findings in the middle of the
lab, while Pok and Til gathered to plan the next move. Til was
young, strong, and, as of now, fearless. She had given herself up
for dead or worse, and so held her life cheaply. Til was not as
tough as Pot, but had become more dangerous.

They could move through the double
doors, the ones Kit said the gold suit thing had used. There was
definitely something in there. Should they go there first? Til rose
up and swished her legs in frustration, before she would leave, she
intended to wreck as much of this place as possible. These machines
must be destroyed so they can never again be used to cause
pain.

Til picked up some heavy rods and
began smashing instruments and pulling things down from the
overhead racks. Zep examined the small sliding door. No lock, it
could be opened, she pointed to the floor, scuffmarks, it was
frequently used. When the bust-up was finished they collected their
best shields and weapons, put on breathing masks, and gathered at
the doorway. Pok listened for any movement, particularly heavy
sounds. Hearing nothing but muffled scrapes and chirps, she
motioned that it was time. The Cathians had agreed to remain silent
and move as quietly as possible. Body movements and sign language
were very expressive tools and Pok motioned that they should take
up positions against the door. Sounds were louder now, much more
movement, but still only a light scratching. Zep forced open the
door and dove to the floor just beyond the opening. Pok was ready
to charge at any movement if there were bots or Hags waiting for
them. With a rush, they entered the brightly lit and cluttered
laboratory.

 

The ObLaDas had been monitoring
the Cathians ever since they entered the dissection room and had
watched them attack the bots and destroy their equipment. It caused
a flurry of activity in the control center in the far deck of the
Filim module. Nothing like this had ever happened. A signal was
sent to the three ObLaDas that were in the Filim antimodule. They
were ordered to leave at once. The aliens would then be isolated,
at least that would give them time to figure out what to
do.

LePan LuKut was the only Da on the
laboratory deck. She should have left immediately, but she delayed.
The sections and tissues from the alien species that had been
disassembled over the ages were very important to her. She put away
the Cathian samples and closed the freezer cabinets. There were no
locks on anything, so they were not at all secure. Her only
recourse was to gather the available bots and have them protect the
storage facility as well as they could. There were not as many as
she wished, but she thought it would be enough. The aliens probably
did not care about those samples anyway. She was right about that,
but it was a mistake to have stayed on the deck. It never occurred
to the ObLaDas that any alien species might cause trouble and LePan
was unprepared.

It should have occurred to them,
perhaps that was the problem. The uncaring and harsh treatment the
Cathians experienced had become common for all the alien species
still on the Outward. This neglect had crept in unmarked over the
generations of ObLa control. The aliens were taken for granted,
especially for those who were not sufficiently developed to ever
establish an advanced society. The poor living conditions drove
down the alien’s population, leaving the survivors weakened and
dysfunctional, further earning the ObLaDas’ disdain. Now three of
them were fighting back.

 

Pok moved straight ahead, quickly
bashing three small dome-shaped bots as they tried to turn and move
away. They were not fast enough. The path through the middle of the
lab was cluttered by a group of eight small tables, each surrounded
by a mass of equipment, much of it hanging from racks strung
overhead. There was a thin, desiccated-looking body on one table.
Pok caught sight of more small bots just beyond that cart and took
out after them. She felt awkward running on four legs and holding a
weapon in this low gravity.

Til pushed against Pok’s back as
she moved to the left side of the lab, almost tripping over a
small, dirty old bot that she stopped to smash with the but-end of
her spear. When she looked up, she was confronted by a large server
bot much taller than she was and inside the point of her long
spear. She hit out, but her sharp rod bounced off its hard surface.
A clamp cut into her leg and pulled her off balance. Suddenly it
stopped. Pok had jumped on top and was smashing away. A crab-like
machine got above Til and dropped onto her back. Til spun around as
two blades plunged into her shoulder, but they were too wide and
too short to penetrate her thick skin. In pain, but not maimed, Til
scraped the lightweight bot away, smashed it with her shield, and
ran along the high wall in the direction Pok was moving.

Zep followed those two into the
room, ran a few steps, and stopped cold. The adjacent wall was
stacked with large cages full of moving sticks, or so it seemed.
There was a sudden wave of scrapping as the Sticks grouped together
and aligned themselves in Zep’s direction. The creatures had hard
brown cylindrical bodies and thin, highly articulated legs. They
were spindly thin straight things, with a smooth, hard,
reddish-brown outer shell. There were dozens of them.

The noise changed to a clacking
sound when the Stick people saw that these intruders were attacking
the hated bots. Zep stood mesmerized by the coordinated unnatural
swaying motion of the Sticks and their flexible legs. Her attention
was snapped back to the lab by a loud crash against the far wall.
The very large bot Til had bypassed was now racing across the room
where it smashed itself against the wall. It blocked Pok and Til
from catching two rolling service bots. These two had broken off
their preprogrammed attempts at fighting and were speeding toward
the exit doors. Both escaped before Til could work around the
wreckage.

The three Cathians gathered before
the now silent Stick people. Crowded into cages, stacked to the
ceiling, they moved in unison with their tube-shaped bodies swaying
and pointing as one. It seemed from a distance that the Sticks had
no heads, if they did, it did not move apart from the tubular body.
In fact, these things had few if any recognizable features. They
had hard brown bodies with a wet-black surface around the top that
was shaped like the flared end of an oboe and a few blackish
patches elsewhere, but that was it. In fact, they looked like oboes
with stung together piccolo legs and even though the tubular body
was straight and very stiff, they were able quickly move in any
direction using their remarkably jointed limbs.

Somehow, the synchronized body
positions communicated their status as a captive species. Zep felt
a certain degree of sympathy for them. She tentatively went up to
one of the smaller cages and released the lock. The door sprang
open, but the five Sticks stood motionless. A wave of soft clicking
noises passed through the cages and instructed the five as they
walked slowly in a single file through the gate and stood in front
of the Cathians. Standing upright with their legs partially
extended they were almost as tall as the Cathians, but carried only
a fraction of their weight.

The five Sticks shifted positions.
Each angled toward a different spot on the ceiling. When Zep and
Pok took a short step back, the Sticks interpreted this as consent
for their unspoken plan and they started climbing into the
equipment-laden overhead racks. Pok was initially alarmed, but Zep
bent her body in a calming motion. The Sticks easily moved through
the racks using numerous spindly prehensile ‘fingers’ that appeared
from the tips of each limb. They grabbed hold of the tubing and
systematically went through the racks pulling surveillance cameras
out of their sockets.

Pok took Zep and Til aside, she
was anxious to move against the Hags. They had some element of
surprise in their favor, but no longer. The Hags now knew that they
were loose and must be planning some effort to recapture them or
escape. Deciding that the Stick people were no threat, and likely
were victims, Zep went along the bank of cages and opened each one.
Pok and Zep returned to the first laboratory.

Pulling off the bothersome masks,
they began stripping down one of the dead rolling-table bots, they
needed to use it as a cart to carry spare air tanks, food, water,
and the few extra weapons they could find. Pok grabbed Zep as soon
as she returned and, each armed with a shield and pick, they went
to the double doors. There was no window to see through, but the
sharp scent of the Hags was much stronger. The double doors led
through a high wall and probably out of the laboratory area. So
far, the Cathians had stayed within a somewhat understood
territory, now they were at a passage into the unknown. What was
out there? Could they gain some notice? What good would it
do?

 

The doors slid open with a whoosh.
Two large gold suits and helmets hung from the ceiling in the small
space. The outer doors opened easily, but with a gust of heavy warm
air that pushed their masks hard into their face. ObLa air. The
Cathians looked out into a wide dark corridor. Zep went back into
the lab and grabbed one of the portable lights that hung over the
operating tables. Waving the lamp at Til, signaling for her to
bring more, Zep trundled out and caught up with Pok. Her first
objective was to find a Hag. Their task would be immeasurably more
difficult if the ObLaDas had already escaped into the trans-arm
shuttle. Pok led the way, moving quickly through the wide corridor.
They could barely see the row of small buildings ahead and to their
right. The buildings appeared to be immensely old, with stained
walls and sagging rooflines. Far down the hallway they could see
the light on the large round conduit and two shuttle doors
side-by-side. It was the way they had come. Pok looked closely, but
she could not see any movement in either direction. She began
moving toward the transit port to cut off that route of escape,
when she saw a flash of light. Quickly, waving Zep to follow, she
ran between two of the small buildings and out into the open space
beyond.

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