"Close Encounter" - excerpt

 

by Madeleine Urban

 

Tris lounged outside the hatch, now grudgingly reattired in dusty boots, worn leather and loose cotton. He punched a couple buttons on the hand remote, and the ship’s cargo bay door opened.

 

Sam walked out of the ship’s cargo bay, heading toward the docking bay door, two stacks of long, metal cylinders strapped to a motorized tug trundling along behind him.

 

“Tris, I see you haven’t changed.”

 

The captain looked up to see a tall man in a black military jumpsuit enter the docking bay. Tris grinned and stood to meet him. “Rey. Great to see you, man.”

 

Rey accepted Tris’s offer to clasp arms. “Thanks for bringing the cargo on such short notice,” he said.

 

Tris shrugged. “Money talks. And for this trip, it screamed.”

 

Sam glanced at them as he walked by, the tug following. He stopped to listen, and the secured cylinders shuddered as the tug halted as well. He looked over the newcomer, silently approving of the close-cropped haircut and closely trimmed goatee. It fit with the man’s military demeanor.

 

“It’s important that the research here continue uninterrupted,” Rey said, walking over to check the small, computerized displays on the cylinders.

 

Sam perked up. “Research?”

 

“Rey, this is Sam. Sam, Rey. And Rey’s business is not our business, Sam. We deliver the cargo, we get paid, and we leave,” the captain said dismissively.

 

Rey blinked at the console, and he turned his chin sharply toward his friend. “They didn’t tell you what you were transporting?”

 

Sam shook his head, looking grim. “Told you we should have asked, Tris,” he muttered.

 

Rey gestured to the cylinder on top. “These patients are highly critical cases. They may give us the final breakthrough to beat 728PM.”

 

Tris went totally still. “What?”

 

“You mean...they’re...” Sam’s eyes widened, and he looked at the cylinders in shock.

 

“Blue Stripes?” Tris interrupted in a strained whisper. “We were transporting Blue Stripes, and they didn’t even tell us?”

 

Rey nodded slowly and swallowed, shrugging.

 

They all turned to look at the cylinder Rey had touched. It had spun in place to expose a clear view port. The patient hung suspended inside, frozen in place by cryotechnology.

 

“Yeah. Blue Stripes,” Rey confirmed. “We’ve about got it beat - the docs think these patients may have the final answer to beating the virus.”

 

Sam was pale, and his jaw tightened grimly. “All right. Nothing to be done for it now. Let’s get these ... people ... inside - where they need to be.”

 

The captain stared at the patient in the top cylinder – he was a young man. Dark brown waves surrounded what was in life probably a very pretty face, triangular, shaped by sharp cheekbones, a tapered chin, and thin pink lips. The closed eyes tilted up at the corners, like he was of Oriental extraction. But right now it was pale and drawn, like wax.

 

Rey nodded, and he was reaching for the tug’s controls when an alarm blared. Before anyone could react, the carrier lurched violently, throwing the men across the docking bay. Tris slid right into the tug and its cylinders while Rey and Sam fell in different directions. They climbed to their feet, only to fall as the ship rocked again and a call to stations sounded.

 

“Fuck – they found us,” Rey yelled. “You guys got to get outta here and get clear.”

 

“They? Who’re they?” Sam yelled.

 

Tris stared at the face in the cylinder while he held onto it to keep from getting thrown. He suddenly knew who was attacking. He turned to Rey, who had regained his balance. “It’s a Bluumeaan attack squad. That was what the debris was outside – scout ships.”

 

The look on Rey’s face confirmed Tris’s answer. “We thought we’d gotten them before they transmitted our position. Looks like we were wrong,” the soldier said. “These people have to be secured. Let’s get them to medical.” Sam nodded and soon they moved into the carrier proper, the tug of cylinders following.

 

When the three men stumbled into the medical bay, the tug got stuck in the door as another internal explosion shook the carrier. Doctors and technicians rushed about the chaotic lab.

 

“Are you sure this is where we should take them?” Sam asked, peering into the dark, hazy laboratory. He bumped against the wall as a couple technicians pushed past him carrying stacks of data cards.

 

“This is where the containment section is - nowhere else to go,” Rey explained. “Let’s get them inside.”

 

The three men moved some debris and got the tug into the lab, and the mechanical door finally slid shut.

 

“Just how much shit are we in here, Rey?” Tris asked.

 

Rey moved to a desktop display and punched some buttons. He started talking to someone elsewhere on the ship, requesting a status report.

 

A broken and harried voice answered. “… carrier is taking heavy damage … fighters are almost wiped out … attack squad has boarded … don’t know how to stop them - can’t get away … bridge gone … officers gone. Abandon ship!’

 

Rey growled in frustration. “That’s it then - we’ll have to save the research and the doctors and get the hell out of here.” He stalked over to a cabinet on the wall and hit an access code to pop the seal. The doors slid open to reveal a stash of powered rifles.

 

Sam glanced over to the cylinders. “What about them?”

 

Tris followed Sam’s gaze, trying to get the patient’s pale face out of his head. He almost missed catching the rifle Rey tossed to him.

 

“I’ll take one with me. The rest will have to be left behind,” Rey answered, slinging a blaster over his shoulder.

 

Tris cut to the chase. “So you leave them here to die?”

 

“They’re already dead,” Rey said harshly. “They’re critical cases with zero chance of recovery. They’re technically alive only because they were put on ice for transport. Otherwise they’d be dead already.”

 

“Then why take one?” Sam asked. He accepted a rifle, holding it awkwardly.

 

Rey jabbed a finger at the cylinders. “These patients hold the key to beating 728PM. Without one of them all the research and work is useless. If all four die – so does humanity.”

 

The last words echoed in the lab just as a stronger explosion shook the science vessel. Several ceiling panels crashed to the floor with a huge puff of smoke, and hissing steam poured into the lab.

 

 “Go on, you’ve got to get moving.” Rey shook his head at the mess, trying to climb over it to get to a computer station.

 

Tris stared at the cylinders until Sam pulled on his arm. “C’mon Tris - there’s nothing we can do.”

 

“The doctors are in the escape vessel, it’ll jettison any time - you need to get back to your ship,” Rey said.

 

Tris looked to him. “What about you?”

 

Rey glanced around the lab. “I have to make sure there’s nothing here the Blue Meanies can use against us. Then I’ll blow the rest of the carrier.”

 

“With you on it?” Sam’s voice peaked in disbelief.

 

“I sure as hell hope not,” Rey barked. “There’s another escape pod. I’ll just have to set it on auto and wait for someone to pick me up.”

 

“And if the Blue Meanies pick you up?” Tris asked from his place in the doorway.

 

“Get out of here!” Rey waved them off and started punching keys, working at wiping the computers as the other two fled.

 

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