Rift Breaker (24 page)

He carefully stepped forward. When his foot hit the floor again, pain shot up his leg and he grabbed Milton.

‘Oh, this is ridiculous,' he growled, leaning back against the bed. ‘I'll never make it. You go on without me. I'll only slow you down.'

‘Very funny. Here, lean on me,' said Milton ducking under Tazman's left arm.

Tazman swung his wounded leg ahead and pressed all the weight he could onto Milton to avoid the pain.

He hobbled onward and fixed his eyes to the exit. Outside he could see guys bolting to and fro. He could imagine any one of those boneheaded CJs smacking into him for lack of not watching where they headed.

He aimed for a medical trolley when he wanted to stop.

‘Detour,' he said, hopping towards it. He picked up a surgical blade. ‘One moment,' he added. Biting his lip and looking up
at the ceiling he took the blade around his back. When he was certain he had the right position, he made an incision in his pants. He smiled and discarded the blade. Reaching back again, he pulled tail through the hole. It swung about in relief. ‘That's better,' Tazman sighed.

Tail's end curled to a loop and pressed into the ground. The pain was eased somewhat, but not by much. Tazman's grin was cut short by another step and they continued steadily out of the room.

‘I have no idea where Luylla is,' said Milton. They reached the hallway. Tazman looked around the bustle. People ran in different directions with shouts of jargon among them and their communicators. He saw the info terminal, a transparent rectangle, attached perpendicular to the wall. Tazman pointed and the pair went forward again, making every effort to dodge the traffic as they crossed the busy corridor.

When they got there Tazman worked fast. He was familiar with the Composite directory system. The map scrolled into view. He ran a search for the prison quarters and got its location. When he tried for the list of captives he was denied access. The glow of the touch screen flickered with a distant explosion.

‘The ship was topside,' Milton cried in realisation.

‘They might've moved it,' said Tazman.

He muttered the names of the commands as he keyed them in. He tried for surveillance of lower hangars but was denied access again.

‘I need clearance,' he said glancing about the hallway. He spotted something and paused.

‘This might hurt,' he said. Tazman broke from Milton's support and limped out into the hallway by himself.

‘What are you doing?' yelled Milton.

‘What are any of us doing?' he muttered dismally. He approached a grey-faced uniformed officer striding by. He pretended to stumble and draped his arms over the man's shoulder pads.

‘Watch where you are going, you fool!' the officer screamed with large flaring nostrils. Tazman's body went limp. The officer struggled to remove his floppy form, swaying Tazman from side to side. Tail flicked off the floor.

‘I'm sowy, I'm weally sowahhry,' Tazman slurred, drunkenly rocking his head. The officer removed him and he landed on his feet.

‘Despicable,' said the officer, straightening his jacket and storming off.

Tazman, on his own weight, felt the pain again. Milton darted forward and helped him. With great concentration the Freegu stepped back to the terminal.

‘Why?' asked Milton.

Tail whipped round to his front. On the end, a clearance card dangled from a neck strap. Tail passed it through the slot mounted on the side of the screen and the reader emitted a positive sounding tone.

‘There,' said Tazman, pointing proudly. ‘We are here, Luylla's there and the ship is here, in this lower level hangar.' Beneath the map, surveillance images revealed the destinations. The
Inhibitan
sat lonely in an empty hangar and Luylla paced in a cramped holding cell.

‘We go this way,' Tazman added, pointing down the corridor. ‘Lucky for us,' he bragged, ‘I have an eidetic memory.'

Luylla propped against the rusty wall of the holding cell with arms folded, brooding over the mess she'd found herself in. Her situation had progressively worsened since she'd picked up that escape pod. She had been on the run from the Composite, then the Tyde and now those Xoeloid things. Now, it seemed, her bad luck had reached its peak. She was in custody for false charges and the base was under attack. The
Inhibitan
was probably blown to smithereens by now. And she was left to rot in a disgusting, force-field sealed alcove.

She was always thinking, dwelling, formulating the next move, getting sidetracked, thinking more. Her mind was always a mess and now she didn't even have options to consider. So she opted for the unhealthy practice of dwelling on alternative realities. What would have happened if she hadn't picked up the pod? What if she hadn't accepted the
Orisurrection
delivery? Things would've been much different. She would have safely remained an unknown to both the Composite and the Tyde.
Being recognised as a threat by these parties was somewhat counterproductive to her mission.

She went to the force field. It hissed loud like a nulla bug. She turned to her side and looked left, down the corridor, to the window of the office. The warden had disappeared. Good riddance. A spark of electricity shot into her flesh arm. She squeaked and jumped back, rubbing the point of contact.

A clatter came from down the passage. She went forward again with her hands behind her back and peeked. Someone disappeared into the office. A voice called out.

‘What was the cell number?' It belongled to the Human, Milton. He came back. The Freegu, Tazman, appeared at the cell block entrance leaning against the doorframe.

‘Seven two B,' he yelled back.

She glanced behind her at the large worn-out markings on the wall.
72B
. She smiled in relief. The force field disappeared and she reverted to her steely gaze before stepping out.

‘Hello, lovely,' said Tazman.

She never would have anticipated her gladness in seeing him. Milton appeared from the office and saw her.

‘Let's get out of here then,' he said.

‘You came back for me?'

‘Darling, we like you. Don't be dramatic,' said Tazman. ‘I know where the ship is,' he added. ‘It's close so let's get moving.'

Tazman pointed the way through doors and hallways, asking them to read signs and look for clues along the way. Every now
and then he would stop, close his eyes and mutter to himself, as if a map was tattooed under his lids.

The gunfire was getting uncomfortably close. The trio moved to the side as a line of armoured soldiers jogged past. Their full body plating rattled and chinked. They heated their weapons. The one at the back barked orders to secure a certain section of the complex.

‘Right here,' said Tazman, tail stretching to press a large button. A huge reinforced set of blast doors clunked open to Poria's gradient sky through a curving transparent wall. The passageway hugged the outside surface of the complex body. Tazman struggled on with Milton's aid.

‘We're very close,' slurred Tazman. He let out a moan.

Luylla glanced back. Tazman's head dropped forward and all his weight pressed down on Milton. Milton, trying to hold him, could not get a grip on his relaxed limbs and Tazman's arm slipped off his neck. Luylla lunged from the front and caught the Freegu before he could hit the ground.

‘I have him,' she said, bending at the knees. She transferred his weight to her artificial shoulder and hoisted him up to continue down the transparent passage.

Shouting and gunfire erupted behind. The blast of a weapon shot past, narrowly missing her. The scorching heat trail hung in the air. She stretched her gaze around. Back in the complex, a squad of Composite soldiers, retreating down the corridor, blasted back at the end of the hallway. They took cover, ducking into doorframes, side pillars and lying on the floor.

They held their fire for a moment and a Xoeloid warrior sprang out from behind the corner. The armour of the Xoeloid revealed them to be lean, yet muscular, creatures. It returned fire from a jagged, black, single-handed weapon that extended down its forearm and had a glowing hot blade extending out the front.

More warriors followed behind. They moved as a single entity. Bursts of scattered Composite pulsefire landed ineffectively on the metallic mineral armour, only serving to slow the creatures as the shots sparked harmlessly on contact. The armoured body suits seemed to give them strength under fire, the hard material flexing with their movements. The first of the enemy wave laid down suppressive fire and the Composite solders took cover where they could. A second group of Xoeloid charged down the hallway, making use of the heated combat blades. They used momentum, ducking and rolling the Composite streams, landing in prime positions to slice open their enemies, executing slashes and blasts with perfect timing and technique. The last soldier stepped out and sprayed his weapon discharge with no particular aim. One of the Xoeloid dropped into a roll and thrust its blade into the soldier's torso, lifting him off the ground. The soldier's pulse rifle clattered to the floor.

Milton ran back to the side of the blast doors and hit his hand on the control button. The soldier croaked and laughed, spraying blood onto the Xoeloid warrior's face as the door sealed.

Luylla pushed on. Around the curve, a jagged-edged warship
hovered above. Its side was endowed with flat shapes with pointed ends that spanned the body. Flaps slid open on the skin and dark, winged fighters swarmed out at attack run-speeds. Laser and pulsefire exchanged between the warship and a group of Composite fighters. An explosion flared against the cylinder wall above. Luylla held tight to Tazman and a continuous bombardment followed. One heavy blast after another wore down the complex plating. Debris tumbled though the smoke and patted the glass.

Another set of blast doors was sealed over the other side of the walkway. Luylla reached over for the clearance card dangling from Tazman's neck and slid it though the reader. The doors unlocked and began to part. She looked back and spotted Milton running up from behind. He stopped abruptly and glanced to the side.

The walkway frame caved. Glass and metal scattered as an out of control Composite fighter crashed through. It flipped and crumpled against the complex wall with a screech and puff of flame. The craft spun away uncontrollably, exploding below. Hot gas and the smell of burning fuel wafted up to the gaping hole left in the walkway.

Howling winds and the noise of battle flooded the soundwaves.

The blast door opened. Milton put his hands to the sides of his mouth and howled something.

‘Say again,' she yelled back.

‘Cenyulone! That's the planet they're going to attack next. You have to go there and warn the Composite.'

Milton's side of the walkway shifted downward. She hesitated.

‘You know what has to be done,' Milton added. ‘Go!'

She nodded and said a prayer for him as she turned to answer the call of her ship.

Twenty-one

Another glass pane imploded and the tube walkway shifted down the complex wall. Milton's path steepened. He slipped to his knees and spread his palms on the floor to increase surface contact. Clicking vibrations resounded through the crumbling hollow. Glass and bits of framing rattled down the sloping walkway, tumbling past Milton to the windy drop behind.

He sprang to his feet and ran. Something snapped. A whipping cable slapped against the top of the walkway, breaching the glass above and sending splintering cracks down the wall.

Milton swung his arms and stepped up. His boots began to lose grip. He dived and grabbed the ledge at the blast door. The walkway dropped vertical.

Milton lifted and swung his leg onto the ledge. He rolled up to safety and palmed the door button. With a deafening snap and spring, the walkway broke off, flipping out into the air. Wind blasted him; he pressed firmly against the door with his
body sticking halfway off the edge. It started to open; he slipped though the emerging crack.

He backed into a body-littered hallway. The Xoeloid soldiers had moved on. Superior communication had made them efficient infiltrators. A takeover of the
Reconotyre
would not have required many troops. Bursts of gunfire pumped in the distance; the noise was starting to get less frequent. As the fighting died Milton could only deduce most of the Composite soldiers had too.

He crouched to take a weapon from one of the deceased. The dead, gloved hands held tight, as Milton twisted the rifle to pry it loose. He stood and ducked under the strap.

A shadow closed over the mouth of the passage. Milton spun to a Xoeloid craft hovering outside. He dropped facedown and slid up against two of the dead. Holding his breath, he peered over a man's chest armour.

The ship, made of the black mineral of the safe haven, was a lightweight fighter with a refined aerodynamic shape. Spots of reflected sunlight glinted across sharp, angular wings. Its front edges sheathed back and two long spines extended with glowing white tips. The ship swivelled to face the hallway. Milton sank into the floor and moved his hand to the trigger of the rifle, unsure of the weapon's effectiveness against a starship.