As on the Black Ship vessel, Jessie had no idea how much time passed. Since becoming a doll, though, she had found the sole benefit in that she no longer needed sleep. This allowed her to work around the clock to tutor the other Bloc captives on how to reanimate themselves. Whiskers aided her in this, as did some of the others.
Their first convert had been a cobalt-furred raccoon who later gave her name as Laura Raccoon. [You're Ricky's mother!] Jessie said.
[Yes. Is he still alive?]
[Last time I knew. He saved my life. Mine and Whiskers'.]
[That sounds like Ricky. So much like his father that way.] Using her newfound ability to move, Laura tilted her head sadly. [What of my other sons?]
[Zeke was still safe aboard the Mutt last I knew.]
[And Vern?]
[I don't know. I'm sorry.]
[He was taken captive with me. We were separated.]
[We'll find him,] Jessie said. [Once we get out of here.]
They had made little progress on that front, working instead on getting the captives mobile. During her few breaks, Jessie mulled their options, but she still couldn't come up with any ideas. The main problem besides their small size and inability to use weapons was that they didn't have much of an idea of the base's layout. None of the captives knew any way in other than the elevator tube, which certainly wouldn't work unless they found a way to kill or otherwise incapacitate the Black Ship warriors.
In a conference with Whiskers, they decided they would have to sneak out and gather as much information as possible. The immediate problem Jessie foresaw was that she was now nine inches tall, making it impossible for her to trigger any door release mechanisms. If they could get enough of the captives together, perhaps they could form some kind of stuffed animal ladder to allow her to climb up.
As Jessie was working through the logistics of this in her mind, she heard the door to the trophy room open. [Everyone to your places!] she shouted. Word went down the line, the stuffed animals resuming their positions on the shelf to feign being inanimate again.
Jessie had just gone limp on the shelf when the Black Ship Commander strode up to her. "I hope you're having a good time. Perhaps by now you aren't even alive. Maybe you've convinced yourself that you really are a doll. That would be unfortunate." The Commander poked her in the chest; Jessie made no reaction. "In any case, it's time to watch the beginning of my final triumph."
She didn't have any idea what he was talking about, but there was nothing she could say without giving herself away. The Black Ship Commander scooped her off the shelf, carrying her roughly by one yarn pigtail as he tromped out of the trophy room. At least she would get a chance to carry out part of her objective to reconnoiter the base.
She followed the winding turns with her painted-on eyes, moving her head ever so slightly now and again to take in the path they followed. The Commander punched a button to open a red door. Inside, Jessie saw a room that looked very similar to the bridge of the Mutt, with dozens of computer terminals and a holographic projector displaying the planet.
All around the planet she saw blue and red dots. Though not a military officer, she knew these represented Bloc and Black Ship fleets. They had come to rescue her! If she still had one, her heart would have leapt. Then she felt a wave of fear. What if what had happened to her happened to Tom and Will?
The Black Ship Commander confirmed what she had already figured out. He tossed her onto the keyboard of a terminal before explaining, "They've come here to rescue you. Instead, they're going to become part of my collection."
One of the blue dots started to arc towards the planet's surface. "Looks like your friends are sending a team to rescue her. Too bad they'll be debris before they even find you."
Jessie watched the blue dot approaching the surface. Though she couldn't be sure, she could feel Tom and Will on board. They were going to be destroyed without even reaching the surface. She couldn't let that happen. But what could she do?
She turned her head slightly to examine the terminal on which she sat. From what she could tell the terminal controlled the sensors that fed the holographic projector with data. She had little knowledge of computers, but she didn't need much knowledge in this case. At the moment the sensors were running passively to make it impossible for the Bloc ships to find them. Jessie had only to bring one saddle shoe down on a red button to make the sensors active.
Red alert klaxons sounded throughout the base. The Commander turned around to stare at her. "What have you done?" When she didn't answer him, he picked her up and began shaking her. "Answer me!"
[Now they'll know where to find you, asshole,] Jessie said. The Commander threw her against the wall; fortunately her plastic head and fabric body prevented her from taking any serious damage.
He towered over her, managing a haughty look despite the armor. "It's not going to make any difference. They're still going to die. Open fire with all batteries!"
Lying on the floor, Jessie wished she could muster tears from her painted-on eyes to mourn Tom and Will.
#
Halfway through the insertion into the atmosphere, the locker became too hot for them to take. Will kicked the door open to spill out onto the floor of the landing craft. Fighting against the G-forces, he scrambled into an empty seat to strap in, followed closely after by Tom. Heather Catt, accompanying the commando team, turned on them. "What are you two doing? Didn't you learn anything from the last time?"
"We have to help her!" Tom said.
"You could help her by staying on the ship," Heather said.
"We can't go back," Spot IV said. "They'll have to stay with us."
"They can stay with the landing craft. I'm not going to have them interfering like their friend did on Cattatonia. This is a mission for warriors, not children."
If not for the G-forces, Tom would have reached over to strangle Heather. Then again, without the G-forces she might have already killed both of them for stowing away. "Our friend is one of the Creators. So are we in case you forgot," Tom said.
"I'm not concerned with that Creator nonsense," Heather said. "You'll stay with the landing craft and let us perform our mission."
They were still arguing as the landing craft began to settle down and cool off. It quickly turned bitterly cold in the compartment; Will wished they had thought to bring some jackets before stowing away. With his teeth chattering, he asked, "Do we know where to go?"
"Not yet," Heather said. "But we'll find them soon enough."
Will wasn't sure about this. If the Black Ships could hide their base from the Cerberus, he doubted a tiny landing craft would have much better luck. The best they could hope for was to stumble on it by accident.
Or by the Black Ships giving themselves away. "We're picking up active sensor emissions," the co-pilot said over the loudspeaker.
"We've got them now," Heather said with obvious glee. "Home in on that signal and bring us down."
"What if it's a fake?" Spot IV asked.
"It's the only lead we have. And don't forget I'm the mission commander."
"I haven't."
"Good. That's my mother down there and I'm going to find her."
Will thought of warning her about losing her objectivity, but that's what had prompted he and Tom to board the landing craft in the first place. The co-pilot called back again to say, "It looks like the sensor emissions are coming from beneath the surface."
"No wonder we didn't pick them up," Spot IV said.
"It doesn't matter. We'll just have to dig them out," Heather said.
"They're firing on us!" the co-pilot said. "Buckle up back there."
Buckling up proved a moot point as the right side of the landing craft turned to debris a moment later. The landing craft began to spin, tumbling out of control towards the surface. There was nothing Will could do but hold on for dear life and pray.
#
The two fleets began to deploy for battle. The Bloc fleet formed up behind the Cerberus while the Black Ships spread themselves into a formidable wall to bar their enemy from the planet. The Hellhound fighters stayed in their hangars this time, at least for the moment. Once the Cerberus unleashed its main gun and the two fleets engaged, the fighters would be used to provide support and—though no one openly admitted this—to draw fire.
Spot II watched all of this with a sort of detachment. Though this battle would decide the fate of the entire Bloc, including his family on Muttlandia, he was for the moment little more than a passenger. The real fighting and dying would be up to the dogs, cats, and raccoons operating the ships and fighters of the fleet. And those heading to the surface.
He took a moment to think not just of his son on the landing craft but the two Creators as well. They had learned of Will and Tom's stowing away not long after the landing craft left, but there was no time to recall it. He would have to simply hope that the other two Creators met a better fate than their friend. As for his son, Spot II knew Spot IV could take care of himself. Of his twin sons, Spot IV had always been the stronger, more aggressive one though he had been born two minutes after his brother. Spot III had been sickly as a puppy, starting with a broken tail as he exited his mother's womb, while his brother had been born healthy and full of energy. It was only natural then that Spot III should follow his father into politics while Spot IV went into the military.
When Spot IV had completed the grueling tests to become a Special Forces commando had been one of the proudest moments of his father's life. Though he had never participated in such trials, Spot II knew from secret reports the sort of tests a cadet endured. They were starved nearly to death, sent out into the wastelands of Muttlandia and forced to fend for themselves. More than a few had never returned. Not only had Spot IV returned, he had found his way back sooner than anyone else in history. Perhaps, though, this mission would ask too much even for him. If so, they were all doomed.
"We're nearing firing position," Zeke said.
"Begin powering the main gun," Jonathan said.
Spot II edged forward in his seat. He still did not approve of Buster constructing this dreadnought in secret, but at the moment it was their only hope for victory. If they survived this battle, there would be some serious discussions about any other projects Bulldogovia might be working on in secret. In turn, Spot II would reveal a few secret projects the Muttlandian government had in the works. There was in particular quantum singularity research being conducted in a lab under Terriertown. If only they had that technology available, it would be easy enough then to transport Spot IV and the commando team to the surface.
"Sir, the landing craft has been shot down," Zeke said.
"What?" Spot II said. He rose to his feet, staring in shock at the front monitor.
"Any survivors?" Jonathan asked calmly.
"Not sure, sir. We're getting some kind of interference on the surface."
"We have to send another ship," Spot II said. "There could be survivors."
"Belay that," Jonathan said. "We don't have the personnel right now."
"But—"
Spot II felt a hand on his shoulder. Buster stood next to him. "My daughter was on that ship too. But Jon is right: we don't have the troops for it right now."
"Then we can go. Just the two of us. With our Power Collars—"
"You're the one always telling me to think rationally. Take your own advice."
Spot II blew out a breath, forcing himself to think rationally. Jonathan and Buster were right that they didn't have another unit ready to send in. Moreover, going down himself would only invite more disaster. His place was here. He nodded to Buster. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Don't worry, those buggers are about to pay."
"Main gun is ready," Zeke said.
"Target the largest concentration of enemy warships," Jonathan said.
"Target locked."
"Fire."
Spot II had to put a hand to his eyes at the brightness of the light unleashed by the Cerberus' main gun. A blue beam a quarter-mile wide erupted from the barrel of the weapon to streak towards the enemy fleet. At least fifty Black Ships simply disappeared in an instant without so much as an explosion.
"Good shooting!" Buster shouted. "Hit them—"
He didn't get any farther before all the lights went out on the bridge. "We've lost power," Zeke said, stating the obvious. "Backups are offline."
"We're dead in space," Spot II said. It wouldn't be long before they were more dead than that.
No comments:
Post a Comment