“On me Zuri, Noah move to this door when we are through.” Finn slipped his hand in to the low but wide handle, fully aware now of the Haven physiology that dictated it. He pushed the handle release mechanism, unsealing the safety door as he pulled the whole panel towards him. A rush of stale air greeted him. Air was good, better than the potential vacuum, but Finn remained conscious they were dealing with combat in a unique environment.

  If this is the sign of things to come, then we need to train for space combat.

  Again, he used his sight to look round the door, this time on a thermal setting so the image was blurred but his weapon swiftly adjusted for him. Nothing, cold, an empty corridor.

  “Moving in.” Zuri gave him a tap of agreement, and as a reminder to be careful. Finn slipped between door edge and corridor wall, easing himself along the latter as he continued to move anti-clockwise. Zuri followed, then on signal swapped to the opposite wall. She slid along, low with her thermal visor screen giving little to worry about. The floor was clear with thankfully no dust.

  One more room and then it’s the junction.

  Zuri reached her viewpoint without incident, watching the door as the junction edge appeared. Scanning through night vision and thermal modes there was nothing to see, normal vision was also clear. After the docking bay and the previous corridor section this seemed too easy.

  “Clear, Finn. Move up.”

  “Thoughts?” Finn asked as he took position next to the door.

  “If we ignore it, then we potentially have something at our rear. Never good. If we disturb something in there, we have a fight we don’t need.” Zuri knew Finn would want to investigate, but outlining the options was always useful.

  “Okay, we go in. Ready?” Finn waited as Zuri took the right, she readied a flashbang grenade. Another upgrade, this one’s intensity should blow any thermal imaging for a good thirty seconds. Finn took hold of the door and pulled but it didn’t shift. Zuri put the grenade back, opened her backpack and placed a chemical charge along the door edge, needing to melt through the multiple locking bolts required on a Space Station designed to seal in case of an atmospheric breach.

  “Clear. Three, two, one.” Zuri and Finn had moved back towards the other room when she detonated the chemical charge. This time they’d need an alternative approach. Finn led with Zuri to the side. He kicked the door open but didn’t follow in, the molten edges were too risky and cooling them would reseal the door.

  “Grenade!” Zuri threw the grenade as it opened, both throwing themselves against the corridor walls to avoid the blast. Heat, light and sound seared through the doorway and on into the darkness of the corridor. Finn and Zuri unpolarised their visors, hastening to the doorway. With the door swinging they were at a danger point.

  “Finn, movement top left corner. With all the thermal crap I can’t get an image.”

  Finn crouched low next to the doorway and pointed his rifle through, using the mirror sight to scan the room beyond. There, top left was a metal and glass device about six inches square. Camera? Possibly. Then three sets of mechanical legs popped out, and it scuttled down the wall. Finn fired, energy bolts searing across the space to the left and right of it. Zuri aimed through the doorway, her bolts fizzing into its casing and the spider-cam dropped to the lab floor. It gave a last hiss before a small fire burnt through the casing.

  “Those sights are alright, but you can’t hit crap with it when they’re moving.”

  “I have movement,” whispered Noah’s voice through the radio. “A wheeled motor of some form echoing through the corridor.”

  “Coming,” Finn replied and sped back down to Noah’s position, Zuri watching their rear. Back at the first door of this section a motor gunned on the other side of the rough bulkhead, the sound echoing through the hole in the lab wall. Noah waited at the door, gun trained on the hole.

  “Hold here, I’m going forward. If I signal through, you follow. Zuri on the door.” Finn approached the hole, slipping the sight into position to view the doorway in to the first lab. Another forklift was ramming against that doorway, burning out its motor as the wheels span. Finn realised it came from the docking bay; they’d left the doors open to prevent them sealing in case of a breach. He could hear a deeper thrum behind it.

  “Uh-oh. I think by the audio analysis we have three vehicles in that corridor. All mad as hell, all with the same signature as before,” said Smith.

  “If we can eradicate the threat of the front forklift, we should then be able to disable the rest using it as a shield. But if the motor blows soon and the whole forklift goes up, we could be stuck this side of the bulkhead.”

  “Agreed. I’ll work on the target point.”

  “Zuri, Noah, we have a corridor full of angry vehicles. I’m going to disable a vehicle. You do not need to react unless I call. Hold position. Smith?”

  “Directly between the two motors there’s a familiar signature. You can reach it if you aim here.” Smith made a cross hair appear on the visor, automatically adjusting as Finn moved. “It’s going to move about as the engine revs but focus. I’d suggest repeated energy bursts, the armour-piercing is likely to set the whole thing off and then we’re screwed.”

  Finn took a position flat on the floor, near enough to the hole so he could scoot through at speed. Resting the rifle in a sniper position he left the sight alone and allowed Smith to set the target through his visor. It rocked back and forth as the motor powered on but he had enough to hit for about three seconds at a time.

  Finn pressed the rifle trigger, sending seething energy bolts into the exact spot Smith marked. He waited until it came back into view and hit the molten hole with three more, the last causing a squeal in the motorised system. The engine howl rose quickly and didn’t stop, smoke now rising from the machine. The wheels stopped spinning, and the forklift came to rest with the hole in its side covered by the doorway. Finn moved closer, he could see enough space to wrap the rifle round and aim into the hole using the mirror sight, he brought the rifle down and shot through the hole.

  A robotic arm swung from above the forklift, spearing down towards him. No time to get out the way, Finn brought the rifle up and under the hydraulic limb, his elbow servos heaving as they pushed back. The tip of the arm opened, deadly blades spreading like petals began to spin with a screen eye in the centre. The hydraulics heaved, and the arm extended towards his visor, a whirling promise of death.

  Finn heard an internal explosion in the forklift, exactly where his energy bolts had hit. The pressure through his elbows eased, he threw himself backwards as the blades made one last lunge. Landing on his back, he kept his eyes fixed on the screen as the petals folded in and the arm sagged.

  “Did you…,” started Smith.

  “Yeah, I did. Looked like one of the Haven staring right back at us.”

  Chapter 10

  Havenhome Orbital Station

  Zuri stood at the junction corner, the mirrored sight letting her know there was a distinct heat signature twenty yards down the corridor. Whatever it was, it was active and probably knew they were there.

  “Finn, target about twenty yards along the centre of corridor. Distinct heat signature. No way I can differentiate the data plaque from whatever the rest of it is.”

  “Okay, I’ll come up with Smith. Noah, watch the second door.”

  When Finn reached her, Zuri let him look. It hadn’t moved, but there was a sway to the thermal signature that gave the impression it couldn’t keep still.

  “Thoughts?” he asked.

  “All the others have been motion or camera triggered. This one is activated, most likely one of the last two cameras has relayed a message. We could see if it reacts to any motion. Then if not, hammer it with the artillery rounds just to be sure.”

  “And if it reacts?”

  “We hammer it with artillery rounds just to be sure. Then run.” He could feel Zuri’s smile through the mask.

  “Sounds like a plan,” added Smith.

  Zuri took out her water bottle from the pouched belt. With Finn at the ready she threw it at the far junction corridor wall, enabling it to bounce diagonally down the connecting corridor towards the heat signature. It moved, turning slightly sideways towards the bottle. But that was it, just swaying in its new position.

  “Frag it?” asked Zuri.

  “Wait. Noah up here.” Noah arrived a few seconds later. “You and Zuri have full charge in your rifles. You’re going to blast that robot thing with artillery rounds. I want two shots each, move and assess. Zuri, you are on the floor, Noah crouched. I’ll watch the far side where this corridor continues in case we get another reaction. Agreed.”

  “You see what happens when you listen to the best trainer in the world. He makes a thinking soldier’s plan,” interrupted Smith.

  “Can it, Smith. You have two directions to monitor and a full sensory field. Do your job, you are on full fireteam radio. No idle comments.”

  Boy did I enjoy that. Maybe I should be this assertive more often.

  “On my mark. Three, two, one, mark.”

  Zuri rolled out, keeping the wall covering her lower half with space to get back in should she need. Noah crouched behind, half the corner covering him from the robot’s line of sight. They punched two rounds each into the middle of the robotic figure, they melted the metal where they hit allowing the secondary bolt to drill in before exploding. All four rounds staggered the machine backwards, and it toppled.

  “One more Noah,” shouted Zuri and they both let loose, smacking into the crumpled heap lighting up under the explosions that followed. “Hold fire.”

  “No signals, no sensory changes,” chipped in Smith.

  “Okay, stay in position.” Finn moved forward keeping out of the line of fire. The light from the burning robot ahead forcing him to switch to normal sight mode on his visor. As he moved in closer, he could see a tangle of strings and drums, melted brackets attached to a set of wheels. It reminded him of the confusing sculpture or instrument they’d seen in the House back on Earth.

  “Death metal,” laughed Smith. “No telltale signature, this one’s a goner. No signals ahead. We may be in the clear.”

  “Okay, everyone up.” Finn waited on them both, searching the area ahead as best he could with the flickering of the robot fire making it difficult. When they arrived, they all moved towards the centre of the Station. The schematics and Yasuko’s information had showed the living quarters were in the two rings above them. This ring served as the laboratories and working rooms. They were closest to the docking bay in case of emergency, reflecting the Haven way to save data copies and clones first. It seemed all backward but humans hadn’t exactly got much to shout about in the morality stakes.

  The central hub contained the control room at the bottom, again nearest the docking bay, with the rest dedicated to the AI core, engines, and gravity field generators with the gyro motor if they needed a gravity backup.

  Zuri reached the control room door first, Finn shadowing. The doors were ajar, a wedge of ruptured bronzed floor jutting up where a metal shard had nearly punched through preventing them from shutting.

  “Smith?” Finn queried.

  “One heat signature, not the same as the mechanical beastie’s we’ve been fighting. More connected, possibly a data plaque in a charge slot.”

  “Zuri, check ahead.”

  Zuri brought her corner sight in to play, visually scanning the left side of the room but the gloom defeated her. Switching to thermal the intermittent light issues were problematic, she didn’t have the same sensitivity as Smith. Zuri swapped to night vision, hoping the residual firelight may help. It did.

  “Ah. We have a Haven. At least we have a robotic one. Looks like someone’s built a Haven body from scrap metal and put a data plaque in the centre. It’s sat against the wall, inactive for now.” Zuri felt ill at ease with the machine where it was. It seemed at rest, sad even. Almost as if it had decided this was its final resting place. This was not the action of an unthinking programme or robot, but that of something that had lived.

  Mafanikio sio mwisho, kushindwa si mbaya: ni ujasiri wa kuendelea ndio muhimu. It is the courage to continue that counts. You lost your courage whoever you are.

  “We follow procedure, Zuri ready with the stun grenades. Noah at our rear.”

  “Wait, Finn. Wait. This one is different. I don’t think it’s been built to fight.” Zuri felt very unsure of herself. What was happening? She was the safety-first person, the survivor. “I’d suggest we repeat throwing something in, seeing if it reacts. Assess.”

  “Zuri, we’ve been battered and bruised just to get this far. You want me to act on your intuition?” replied Finn. The last time he’d acted on intuition in combat he lost a man, and that death in a sea of fire haunted his every night. The memory wafted the smell of his death across his nose.

  No more. Especially not you.

  “No, follow procedure. We survive Zuri.” He grimaced knowing full well he was quoting herself back to her. “We come first, before others. And if that causes consequences, we’ll deal with those too.”

  Zuri looked back towards Finn, her eyes stealing against the fire behind him. How can the sadness portrayed through metal and wire have made her think otherwise? Was it being surrounded by the dust of the Haven people? Or the weirdness of wanting to live forever that hung in their laboratories? She nodded agreement.

  Okay, we can’t solve everyone’s problems. Focus on our own. Survive.

  Zuri readied the flashbang, waiting on Finn’s signal. As she threw it in, they turned away, letting the magnesium flare and the explosion reverberate across the room and on into the corridor. Finn surged through the door, swiftly bringing his rifle to bear as he reached the central console. Zuri stepped over the threshold and put her last three armour-piercing rounds into the rising machine. Finn followed suit, sending two more. The robot shattered into molten pieces as the rounds drilled through wire and frame. The ensuing explosion scattered pieces across to the far end of the room.

  As the last warped pieces settled, the metal plaque lay pulsing on top of the pile. Like a beating heart its rhythm steady, still active amongst the surrounding destruction. Finn raised his weapon, but Zuri’s hand signalled a hold. This time he agreed; the danger was in the machine not its heart.

  Zuri prized the plaque from its recess, the pulse fading away as she did so. If it was anything like their weapons it could be charged, maybe this one would survive even now. She threw it to Noah who pouched it.

  “Okay Smith, time to do your thing.” Finn slipped his mask off after pulling up an oxygen mask from his pouch ready.

  Got to keep learning. Preparation, as Smith would say over and over again.

  He removed Smith’s plaque and Noah placed it in the main console recess. After a few fleeting seconds Smith appeared, blue above the console.

  “The AI is dead, gone. The controls for the sterilisation won’t respond. The radio’s dead too. Without the AI to learn from I am lost in here.”

  Chapter 11

  Havenhome Orbital Station

  Yasuko stared at the pile of data plaques Noah had placed on the middle console. Inside there was a sense of avoidance, a fear of what she would find running her virtual hands through the data. The last ones had shocked her, the ancient death they heralded bringing home what her sensors had shouted at her on the way. The Orbital Station was dead, Havenhome was dead, her people were dust. Yet the constraints remained, she was the ship’s AI. If they told her to act, then she acted. Choice was for those that were free.

  Though the chains were set by those I mourn.

  She finished reviewing the film footage from their visor cams. The last mechanical creature interested her more than the others. In her view the rest had been residual data plaques, their personalities eroded to preserve their power. Nothing lasted all that time unless it was on the merest trickle of energy. These that Noah collected from the second lab would be dead copies, as much dust as the rest of the Haven.

  “Can you help, Yasuko? We need to know if there are any clues about what we can do next,” asked Zuri.

  Always asking, never instructing. The human way, or at least that of the one fate chose as her Captain. Yasuko pointed to the one she needed. “Can you put that one in the panel Noah?”

  Noah did as he was asked and where Smith usually appeared a Haven stood, hunched and low. Ancient by human standards. A low thrum assailed the humans in the room, hurting their ears but the sound always distant, not quite within their range.

  “Scientific Officer Xxar,” said Yasuko, Zuri felt she was speaking in two languages at once as the hum remained, “there is no one here with implants, and your frequency is far too low for these humans to hear. Your words are beyond their knowledge. I will adjust so that you hear our words as you should, but they will hear in English.” Yasuko sought agreement from Zuri as she spoke, reading her facial response she carried on, “This should be pretty much simultaneous. He will label me Yasuko, though he uses no name in reality as I am just a tool to him, an ‘it’. Any names will be as you know them. I will change times to Earth standard.”

  “Yasuko, when are we?” the voice was a stylised low rumble.

  “It is the thirty-fourth millennium since the anomaly was found. I am thirty-three thousand years late.”

  “Ah, that’s why I feel so old. I made this plaque thirty-two thousand years ago. I lived in that machine copy to copy for a thousand years. I think my mind left me sometime after the second century,” the deep reply reverberated through the room.

  “May I enquire what happened at the Station? To the Haven?” Yasuko’s voice was subservient, not in awe but as a slave to a master.

 

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