⫸ [ TIME: 23:15 LOCAL PLANETARY TIME ]
⫸ [ LOCATION: HORIZON SEEKER – ENGINEERING DECK ]
⫸ [ STATUS: BLACKOUT ]
The ship was dying.
The emergency amber lights which had flickered bravely for days were gone. The chemical batteries made from the Scuttler carcasses were dry husks. They leaked acidic sludge onto the deck plates and filled the air with the smell of corrosion. The Horizon Seeker was a tomb of cold metal and silence.
Deep in the Cargo Hold the Stasis Pod for Alara was running on its own independent reserve. It had five years of power. However the ship itself had zero. Without the main power bus the defensive perimeter was offline. The atmospheric scrubbers were dead. The fabricator was a paperweight.
Elian stood before the blast door of the Main Reactor.
He was stripped to the waist. His new skin looked strange in the beam of his handheld glow-rod. It was matte grey and tessellated with a microscopic hexagonal pattern. It looked like the hide of a reptile forged in a foundry.
"Grom," Elian said.
The Giant foreman stood behind him. Grom held a heavy slab of hull plating he was using as a riot shield. He looked at the door with superstitious dread. He could feel the heat radiating through the three inches of steel.
"Fire-Room," Grom grunted. "Death is inside."
"Power is inside," Elian corrected.
He handed his glow-rod to the Giant. He picked up a heavy canvas sack. Inside rattled the shattered remains of the Warlord's chest cage. It was the Totem of the Unknown Class-II Predator. To Grom it was a sacred relic. To Elian it was high-density bio-nuclear fuel.
"Wait here," Elian commanded. "If I do not come out in twenty minutes seal the door. Go to the Cargo Hold and guard the Sleeping Girl."
Grom thumped his chest. "Iron."
Elian turned the manual release wheel. The metal was hot enough to blister normal skin. Elian felt only a dull warmth. He cranked the wheel until the locking clamps disengaged with a groan of stressed metal.
He pushed the door open.
◤ ENVIRONMENTAL HAZARD ◢
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
⬢ Ambient Temperature: 148°C (Rising)
⬢ Atmosphere: Toxic (Coolant Leak)
⬢ Radiation: Moderate
⬢ Status: Critical
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The heat hit him like a physical blow.
It was not a fire. It was a suffocating pressure. The air shimmered with thermal distortion. Steam hissed from ruptured pipes and filled the room with a thick white fog that smelled of sulfur and ozone.
Elian stepped inside.
A normal human would have collapsed instantly. Their lungs would have scorched. Their eyes would have boiled in their sockets. The proteins in their blood would have denatured in seconds.
Elian breathed. The air was hot but his modified trachea cooled it before it reached his lungs. His skin tingled. The hexagonal scales shifted microscopically as they opened vents to dissipate the thermal load.
[ Core Temperature rising. ]
[ Thermal-Lattice active. Efficiency at 94%. ]
[ You have approximately 18 minutes before heatstroke induces organ failure. ]
"Plenty of time," Elian wheezed.
He walked onto the catwalk. Below him the Reactor Core loomed like a dormant beast. It was a sphere of containment magnets and tungsten carbide the size of a small house. It was silent.
Elian looked at the damage. The crash had severed the primary coolant loop. The antimatter injector was fused. The magnetic bottle had collapsed.
He needed to perform surgery on a heart that was made of metal and fire.
He climbed down the ladder. The rungs were burning hot. He gripped them tight. He felt the heat travel up his arms and dissipate into the air around him like steam. Every movement was heavy. The gravity in the room felt stronger due to the heat fatigue.
He reached the Fuel Injection Port.
It was designed for refined antimatter canisters. It was a precision slot made of ceramic glass.
Elian opened his canvas sack. He pulled out a chunk of the Warlord's glowing bone. It pulsed with a violent red light. It was warm to the touch.
"A.R.C.," Elian said. "Can the injector handle solid mass?"
[ Negative. The intake is designed for gas or plasma. ]
[ You must liquefy the biomass manually. ]
Elian looked around. He scanned the room for chemicals.
He saw the Auxiliary Coolant Pump in the corner. It was leaking a steady stream of superheated chemical fluid.
"Chemistry," Elian muttered. "Solvent."
He grabbed a heavy wrench from the maintenance rack. He walked to the pump. He did not turn the valve because it was rusted shut. He raised the wrench and smashed the pipe.
CLANG.
The pipe burst.
Blue coolant fluid sprayed out at high pressure. It hit the floor and hissed. It ate into the grating.
Elian dragged a metal waste bucket under the spray. He filled it with the boiling chemical.
He dropped the Warlord's bones into the bucket.
The reaction was immediate. The alien biology of the Totem reacted with the industrial solvent. The bone did not dissolve. It melted. It turned into a thick luminous sludge that glowed like molten lava. Bubbles of red gas rose from the mixture.
[ Bio-Fuel Slurry created. ]
[ Energy Density: 400 Terajoules per kilogram. ]
[ It is dirty. It is unstable. It will work. ]
Elian grabbed the bucket. The handle dug into his palm. The heat radiating from the sludge was intense enough to push his thermal skin to its limit. His grey skin turned a flushed angry red.
He climbed back up the ladder to the top of the Reactor Core. He moved slowly. He balanced the bucket of liquid fire.
He opened the manual override hatch on the top of the sphere. He looked down at the dark magnetic chamber. It was a void waiting to be filled.
He poured the bucket.
The glowing red sludge cascaded into the core. It hit the ignition chamber at the bottom with a hiss.
Elian slammed the hatch shut. He spun the locking wheel until it clicked.
"Ignition," Elian gasped. He wiped sweat from his eyes. His body was overheating. He was dizzy. The edges of his vision were turning black.
He stumbled to the control console. The screen was cracked but functional. He bypassed the safety interlocks. He rerouted the power from the last reserve of the ship's emergency battery to the Spark Gap.
"Wake up," Elian whispered.
He pulled the lever.
THH-CHUNK.
Inside the core a high-voltage arc struck the bio-fuel.
WOOOOOM.
The ship shook. It was not a rattle. It was a deep harmonic vibration that resonated in the marrow of Elian's bones.
The sludge ignited. It did not burn like wood. It burned like a star. The chaotic isotopic energy within the bone was released in a sudden violent expansion.
The magnetic containment field flickered to life. It caught the expanding plasma. It wrestled the energy into a tight spinning torus.
◤ REACTOR ONLINE ◢
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
⬢ Output: 42% of Maximum
⬢ Fuel Source: High-Density Bio-Plasma
⬢ Stability: 88%
⬢ Coolant: Rerouted to Secondary Loop
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The lights in the Engineering Bay slammed on.
It was blinding. The gloom vanished. The hum of high-voltage transformers filled the air. The ventilation fans kicked on with a roar as they sucked the toxic heat out of the room.
Elian slumped against the console. The cool air from the vent hit his face. He laughed. It was a dry and rasping sound.
"We have power," he said. "Alara is safe."
[ Commander. I have accessed the main sensor array. ]
[ The radar is active. The lidar is active. ]
[ I am detecting... everything. ]
"Show me," Elian commanded.
A holographic map materialized in the air above the console. It showed the ravine. It showed the jungle. It showed the mountains.
It showed the sky.
Through the magnetic fog the high-powered sensors of the Horizon Seeker pierced the veil.
For the first time Elian saw the world clearly.
It was not a planet. It was a prison.
The sky was dominated by a massive artificial ring structure that encircled the equator. From this ring hung the Floating Islands. They were not geological formations. They were observation platforms. They were anchored by tethers that stretched down into the clouds.
[ Analysis: The "Firmament" is a hard-light barrier. ]
[ It blocks all subspace transmissions. It keeps us in. ]
"We are rats in a cage," Elian whispered.
[ Alert. Proximity Warning. ]
The map zoomed in.
The activation of the Reactor had sent a massive electromagnetic pulse through the jungle. It was a beacon.
Five kilometers away at the edge of the sensor range a new signal appeared.
It was not a beast. It was not a giant.
It was a formation of aircraft.
They were not technological. They were wooden ships. They floated on clouds of golden light. They moved with impossible speed.
On the deck of the lead ship stood men in red robes.
◤ THREAT DETECTION ◢
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
⬢ Target ID: Humanoid Hostiles
⬢ Faction: Unknown (Red Robes)
⬢ Energy Sig: High-Density Isotopic Radiation
⬢ Count: ~300 Units
⬢ ETA: 20 Minutes
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The Warlord had been a brute. This was an army.
Elian pushed himself off the console. His skin was cooling down. His eyes were hard. He realized his victory against the tribe was just the prologue.
He keyed the intercom. His voice boomed through every speaker on the ship. It reached Grom outside. It reached the Giants in the cargo bay.
"ALL HANDS. BATTLE STATIONS."
Elian turned to the exit. He walked past the humming reactor.
"A.R.C.," Elian said. "Warm up the Fabricator. We have power. I want to print something big."
[ Blueprint: The Arbiter (Mark-II). ]
[ Railgun Capability: Online. ]
Elian stepped out of the burning room. He walked into the light.
[END OF CHAPTER 9]