She shone her flashlight around on the damaged items, then farther into the darkness beyond them. The beam caught on something white. She swallowed. A broken bone.
Leonidas walked over and picked it up, then held it toward the light so she could see. “A human femur.”
Alisa had already recognized it. “Broken in half.”
She slid her beam along the floor, wondering where the other half had gone. Maybe she didn’t want to know.
“Not by a rat.” He walked closer, holding it out toward her. As if she wanted it. But all he did was point to gouges in the bone. Teeth marks.
“No,” she agreed. “Not unless a giant mutated space rat did it.”
He looked at her, once again no hint in his gaze that he appreciated her humor.
“Sorry,” she said. “Was it someone you knew?”
“No.” He laid the bone on top of the closest crate. “The person I seek is a man.”
“I’ve noticed all of the doors are opening for you. Is there a comm? Could you try calling him to see if he’s here?”
“I suspect that if he were here, he would have taken care of this.” He spread a hand, whether to indicate the bloodstains and bones or the mess in general, Alisa did not know.
“You sure? If there was something roaming around killing people in my research station, I’d hide in my lab with a box of ration bars and something heavy in front of the door.”
“This happened a while ago.” Leonidas touched the bone again—it had been completely cleaned of muscle and tendon. “Months ago, likely.”
“A box of ration bars can get you far. So long as you’re bright and don’t open the door when something with claws knocks.”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her again. “You should get your own set of combat armor if you’ll be out in the system on your own.”
She blinked at the non sequitur. What had prompted that?
“My armor is my ship,” she said.
Much like engineers, pilots weren’t supposed to go tramping around in dangerous places outside of their ships.
“With your mouth, that won’t be enough.”
“Oh, you’re very charming,” Alisa said, understanding his comment now. “How is it there wasn’t a Mrs. Cyborg squatting in my ship with you?”
His jaw clenched, his expression growing frostier than she thought the joke warranted. Unless maybe there had been a Mrs. Cyborg once and he had lost her.
She opened her mouth, intending to apologize, but he spoke first.
“You’re quick to claim ownership of a freighter that was registered to a junk man.”
“You looked up who owned it before squatting in it?”
“To see if the owner was alive and if anyone would come for it, yes. You were unforeseen.”
“Sorry to get in the way of your plans.” Alisa was on the verge of reminding him that he would still be sitting on that dustball if it hadn’t been for her, but Yumi joined them first, Beck walking behind her protectively.
“Do we know who these people were?” Yumi asked.
“People?” Alisa asked. “Is there more than one, or did you just find…” She kept herself from finishing the thought aloud, that Yumi might simply have found more pieces of the dress wearer. It was too bleak to bring up—everything here was bleak.
“There are some more bones over there. A skull.” Beck pointed toward some crates stacked by the entrance to the side corridor. “And a man’s clothing that’s been ripped up. Also found this.” He held up an Etcher, similar to Alisa’s. “It’s out of bullets.”
“Typical armament for imperial scientists manning a research station?” Alisa asked Leonidas.
“No.” Again bypassing the side corridors, he headed for a door at the end of the room. “According to my map, the labs start in here.”
“It might be a good idea to take the women back to the ship,” Beck said before Alisa and Yumi could move off.
“Oh, that sounds like an excellent idea to me,” Alisa said, “but I doubt he’ll allow it.” She waved at Leonidas.
Beck glowered in that direction, his hands tight on his rifle. Leonidas had moved far enough away that Beck might get a shot off before he raced back here to attack him. Of course, Leonidas had his helmet off. One shot might be all it would take to blow his head off. Assuming Leonidas didn’t sense it coming and dodge in time.
Alisa laid her hand on Beck’s armored forearm on the chance similar thoughts were going through his head.
“Let’s just see what’s here,” she said quietly, turning her back so Leonidas would not hear. “If the station has been abandoned by everyone except—” she glanced at the bones, “—rats, we might be able to salvage valuables without incurring anyone’s wrath.”
“That’s probably why they were here,” Beck said, waving his gun at the remains of the dead. “Something sure got wrathful.”
With that feeling of bleakness growing heavier within her, Alisa only shook her head and walked toward Leonidas. If they were close to the labs, this little quest might be over soon. And the labs would be a likely spot for valuables. Probably. She had no idea what kind of research had been going on in them.
Leonidas hadn’t opened the door yet. He was looking at the control panel beside it. Most of the control panel. The face of it hung askew, the screws missing and wires dangling out from inside of the wall.
“Someone tried to hack their way through a locked door?” Alisa asked.
“Hacked may be an apt word.” Leonidas stepped aside so she could study the door itself.
Her flashlight beam highlighted cuts and scorch marks in the door, along with some dents that might represent someone’s attempt to open it with bullets. A couple of dents marred the front of the control panel too. Leonidas looked back the way they had come, waving for Beck and Yumi to step aside.
He startled Alisa by taking her hand, his cool gauntleted fingers wrapping around hers.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he directed her multitool so that the flashlight beam pierced the darkness, landing on the door they had come in, one that had slid shut as soon as they all entered. She hadn’t noticed it when they came in since it had been behind her, but the control panel there had also been shot up.
Once they had all seen it, Leonidas let go of her.
“Next time you want to hold my hand, you should ask,” Alisa said. “I have high standards as to who I let fondle my fingers.” The joke came out of habit more than because she thought there was anything funny about the situation. Quite the contrary. Her unease over everything was growing by the second. But she always found it preferable to make jokes than to admit to fear, to vulnerability. Especially now that she was a captain.
As usual, Leonidas ignored her humor. “I’ll see if I can open this one.”
He turned back to the door, lifting the dangling panel and poking at the wires inside. The consummate professional.
“Someone got trapped in here?” Beck said, looking back and forth from door to door. Alisa hadn’t moved her arm, so her flashlight still shone on the damaged panel on the other side of the room.
“And wanted badly to get out, it looks like,” Yumi said quietly. She stood close to Beck, having perhaps lost some of her interest in wandering off to explore.
“Why wouldn’t they have gone that way?” Beck pointed toward the yawning corridor leaving from the side of the room. There was a door on it.
“Maybe that’s where it came from,” Yumi said.
“You have any idea what it was?” Alisa asked.
“Is,” Yumi whispered.
“Pardon?”
“What it is. There aren’t any animals that can pilot spaceships, so unless someone came and picked it up, it’s still here.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” Alisa said.
Leonidas stepped back from the control panel and considered the door again.
“No luck?” Alisa asked. “Guess we’ll have to leave.”
She was willing
to give up her chance at salvage to avoid being eaten by whatever had munched on these people. If they could still leave. The doors had opened to let her team walk into the station, so why had they locked when these people had wanted to leave? Had this all happened at the same time as the gravity failed? Maybe the power had failed on the whole station. Or maybe someone had deliberately turned off the power so that the doors wouldn’t work. But who would do that? Not some animal, certainly.
Leonidas shifted his weight so he could lay both of his palms against the door. Metal squealed as his shoulders flexed. The door slid open a couple of inches, and he let go with one hand, lunging to slip his fingers into the gap. From there, he heaved it open with more squeals of metal. It did not retract all the way flush with the jamb, instead hanging crookedly, a few inches still tilted outward on the top, but when he let it go, the door stayed open like that.
“Guess these people didn’t have a cyborg with them to help them escape,” Alisa said.
“I could have done that with a little help from my armor,” Beck said with a sniff.
Leonidas ignored him and walked into a new room. This time, the lights flickered on, gleaming on the shoulders of his crimson armor.
Alisa turned off her flashlight, relieved that they would not have to deal with more shadows. Before putting the multitool away, she commed the ship.
“Marchenko checking in. Anything interesting happening back there?”
“Aren’t you supposed to say more official things than that?” came Mica’s voice in response. “Like, this is the captain. Status report, crew.”
“You’re thinking of the military. I don’t think things have to be that official on a freighter.”
“The doctor and I got bored in NavCom and are playing video games in the rec room.”
“I’ll assume that’s a no, then. You have nothing of interest to report.”
“I’m close to getting the high score on Space Avenger.”
Alisa snorted. She was amazed Finnegan hadn’t ripped the game console out of the table and sold it, though maybe it was so old that it would have cost him more money to tote it out of the junkyard than he would have gotten for it.
“That’s the shooter game, right?” Alisa asked. “You’ll never touch my score on the piloting one.”
“Probably not, but I’m doing well here. The doctor keeps losing his man in the practice area before you board the ship and try to take it back from smugglers,” Mica said. “I didn’t know you could actually die before you got to Level One.”
“It’s not necessary to report that,” Alejandro’s voice sounded in the background, extremely dry.
“She asked what was interesting. I found that interesting. And amusing.”
“It wasn’t that funny.”
“No? Then why did I laugh so hard that tea came out of my nose?”
“Sounds like a problem with a deviated septum. You should have a doctor look at that.”
“My nostrils aren’t available for study.”
“We’re fine in here,” Alisa said, rolling her eyes. “Thanks for asking.”
“You’re welcome, Captain,” Mica said.
Alisa turned off the comm. Yumi and Beck were looking at her, eyebrows raised.
“The others are fine,” she told them.
“Clearly,” Beck said.
Alisa headed through the doorway and into a rectangular room. Three of the walls held shelves and cabinets, many of them broken. Carbon had scorched the floor, leaving giant black marks, as if someone had set off an explosion in here. The fourth wall was mostly made of glass and had survived whatever bomb had been detonated. Another room stood behind it, one full of desks and workstations and equipment. One of the labs, presumably. It appeared to be mostly intact.
Relieved by the lack of bones and bloodstains on the floor, even if the carbon was puzzling, Alisa walked toward the closest set of shelves that wasn’t mangled. She had to walk around a broken grid in the floor, metal bars warped or completely blown away. Water trickled past down below. She almost pulled out her flashlight again to investigate, but the shelves were far more of a pull.
She did not know what she had expected the lab to hold, but the rows of strangely shaped molds were not it. She stared at a shelf full of pieces of a puzzle that looked like they could be assembled to form a forearm. Another shelf held kneecaps. Another squishy, gelatinous implant of some sort. Her first thought was that they had come to a plant for assembling androids, but she had seen prosthetic limbs before, and this was something different. These looked more like they would be inserted in—
It struck her like a hammer on a gong.
“Cyborg parts,” she blurted, turning toward Leonidas.
He had already opened a door in the glass wall and entered the lab. Beck and Yumi were talking quietly in the other doorway and had not yet entered the room.
It might not be noble or wise to think of scavenging when there were dead people twenty feet away, and their own safety was in question, but Alisa couldn’t help but realize she might have found her moment—and her prize. Cyborg implants ought to be worth quite a bit on the black market. She had no idea how to sell things on the black market, but she could learn.
She slipped her hand into her satchel and pulled out an empty sack. Leonidas had his back to her. Good. He would object to the theft. No, not theft, she told herself. Scavenging. She wasn’t a thief, damn it. She was an opportunist, and there was nothing wrong with that. This place had been empty for months, and the empire wasn’t around anymore, not in anything like its previous incarnation, so it was highly doubtful anyone was going to come out here to claim these items. The cyborg assembly line would probably be on hold indefinitely. Not a bad thing, in her opinion.
Looking for the least damaged items, Alisa turned her back to the lab—and Leonidas—so she could surreptitiously slide some of the implants into her bag.
A soft splash came from behind her, from below that broken grid in the floor. She paused and looked toward it, not certain if it was something to do with the station’s water filtration and plumbing system or if some of the cyborg parts needed to be tested in liquid for some reason.
Another splash sounded. Were those noises a result of the way the water was running through the channel? Or—she swallowed—was something down there?
Her gaze shifted toward the lab, as she wondered if Leonidas and his superior cyborg hearing had detected anything. Her hand shifted toward the blazer Beck had lent her. He and Yumi were still arguing about something by the doorway.
“Beck?” she started to ask.
A thump and a big splash from below made her stop, dropping into a crouch. Something dark and huge flew up through the opening in the grid. It whirled and jumped straight at her.
Chapter 12
Alisa had the impression of fur, fangs, and at least four hundred pounds of muscled bulk before the creature was in the air, springing toward her, and all she could see was her death in its yellow eyes. She fired, shooting it in the chest, and dropped to the floor at the same time, doubting that even Beck’s powerful blazer pistol would slow its momentum.
She meant to roll, to scramble out of the way as fast as she could, but she was too slow. The massive creature slammed into her, smashing her against the shelves.
Its bulk crushed her, and pain exploded from both sides of her body. Shelves and implants tumbled down as fur filled her eyes. She sensed it raising a paw to strike with deadly claws. She shot again, point blank this time, then tried to fling herself to the side. Half-pinned against the broken shelves, she could not go far. She glimpsed light and pushed toward it, trying to escape, but it only spun to follow her. It raised its paw again, as if those blasts had not hurt it at all. She tried to fire again, but the heavy paw smashed against her wrist, thwarting her aim. The blast of energy flew harmlessly wide, slamming into the ceiling.
She dove away, not caring which direction she went, just needing space between her and the monster so she could th
ink, figure out something. Before she could think of anything, the ground disappeared beneath her. The stupid broken grid. She had been too busy fleeing to notice it.
A bar gouged her ribs as she tumbled down, flailing, unable to find anything to grab onto. She splashed into two feet of water.
Afraid the creature would be right behind her, she yanked out her Etcher, ignoring the fresh wounds that shouted out for attention. She’d dropped Beck’s blazer somewhere, so this would have to do.
Shouts came from above. With water rushing past around her legs and blood roaring in her ears, she couldn’t understand them, but she couldn’t see the creature, and that was a good thing. A dark furry paw flopped down onto the grid. She flinched but aimed her gun at it. She almost shot, but it wasn’t moving. The shouts had died down too.
A crimson suit of armor came into view. Leonidas knelt next to the hole and peered into her oubliette.
“You all right, Marchenko?” he asked.
Alisa lowered her Etcher. “I’m alive. Things hurt. I hope our semi-retired doctor doesn’t have cold hands. I hate being worked on by doctors with cold hands.” She clamped down on the stream of words, barely conscious of what she was babbling.
Worrying about cold hands was ridiculous right now, but being hurt and thinking of medics made her flash back to those months in the hospital, those first weeks she had been awake and when she hadn’t been sure if she would live or die. Too many bad memories flooded her brain, threatening to take her over the edge.
She took several deep breaths, struggling to calm herself. Pain came with those breaths, but she welcomed it. Pain was grounding. It meant she was alive, that her body was working as it should. Thankfully, she did not think she had broken any bones. Not this time.
“Can you give me your hand?” Leonidas lowered his gauntleted hand, the red of his armor making her think of blood, of the fact that he was a cyborg, the enemy.
Alisa eyed the dark depths from which the water was flowing. From which that monster had come. What the hell had that thing been? And were there more of them? What if there were more coming right now?