Infinite Mayhem Read online

  Roak staggered up onto his feet and began to fall downward toward where the ship was hovering and Reck was climb-crawling to the open rear hatch.

  Then it went to all the Hells as the giant did what every other living creature knew to do when faced with something irritating on its scalp: it shook its head.

  Before Roak could get to the ship or the jump box, he was flung completely off the surface of the giant’s scalp and sent flying out into open air. His heads up display was a jumble of images, but he was almost certain Reck had made it to the ship before the unfortunate head shake. That was as much attention as Roak could give to the others before he was forced to take a hard look at his own situation.

  He was falling fast and from what he could see, he was at least a kilometer from what he figured was the real ground of the planet. Roak checked his armor’s systems and tried to initiate the leg thrusters, hoping to brake his fall a little and slow his descent, but all he managed to do was send himself into a spin that came close to vomit speed.

  “Anyone care to come get me?” Roak called over the comms.

  There was no answer.

  “No, seriously. Come and get my ass!”

  Still no answer.

  “Eight Million Gods damnit,” Roak snarled. He studied his spin and was able to orient himself enough that he knew when he was facing the giant and when he was facing the vast expanse of the planet’s true landscape. Which didn’t look much different than the giant.

  Roak took aim with his Flott, waited for the right time, then squeezed the trigger.

  More head-splitting cries filled the air. As did a good amount of greenish blood. Roak was coated in the stuff as he kept firing and firing, slicing a gouge in the giant’s skin as he fell.

  Tentacles came for him, just as he thought they would. He holstered his Flott and held out his gloved hands. A tentacle smacked him hard and even with the armor on, Roak thought he wasn’t going to be able to take a full breath for a long while. His gloves gripped the tentacle’s surface and Roak hung on with all his armor-enhanced might.

  Roak managed to achieve his goal of not falling to what could have been his death. Maybe his armor would have saved him, maybe it wouldn’t have. Realistically, he would have ended up a mangled mess at the giant’s feet or whatever it had down below.

  The massive maw opened wide and Roak got a good look at all those teeth. Teeth that were growing bigger as he was moved closer to them. Moved closer because the tentacle he was clinging to was about to shove him deep inside.

  Bright flashes. More head-splitting cries. Then he was falling once more, but while attached to a tentacle that was spewing blood everywhere.

  Roak grunted and suffered through the list of alarms that erupted inside his armor as he collided with something very solid. The tentacle was on top of him and he felt that weight. He felt it in every bone.

  “Hold tight,” Nimm called over the comm. “We got you. Yellow Eyes is coming to get you inside the hold.”

  “Yellow Eyes?” Roak asked then the tentacle was flung free, taking his gloves with it, and Roak was dragged along on his back down the length of the ship.

  “Hey there,” Yellow Eyes said once they were inside the ship’s hold.

  The rear hatch slammed shut and Roak struggled to get his helmet off. He took several deep breaths of the ship’s air, not hating the canned taste at all. Yellow Eyes stood above him, smiling and nodding, as Roak slowly got to his knees then stood all the way up. He glanced at his hands.

  “What in all the Hells…?” he muttered as he saw the blisters that coated his hands.

  “Yeah, so the reason the atmosphere ain’t so great on this planet is because the giants’ blood is corrosive and they try to kill each other all the time,” Yellow Eyes said. “There’s like a blood mist everywhere. Not pretty.”

  “It didn’t affect you,” Roak stated as he tested the strength in his legs. Confident he wasn’t going to fall on his face, he walked to the lift. “I though acid harmed you.”

  “Corrosive and acidic aren’t always mutual,” Yellow Eyes replied following close behind Roak. “And it may not be all acid that harms me. Could just be that particular acid that was on the flechettes back on Ligston.”

  “That would be a coincidence,” Roak said. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Not that kind.”

  “Right, me neither,” Yellow Eyes said as the lift doors opened and they stepped on. The doors closed and Yellow Eyes pressed the button for the bridge. “That means someone knew what harms me and told Lawman Pitch. Which really sucks, man.”

  “Father,” Roak said. “He told Pitch.”

  “Or someone under his control told Pitch,” Yellow Eyes suggested. “Could have been anyone, man. Anyone.”

  The lift stopped and Roak hurried onto the bridge.

  “Hessa and the AI in quarantine?” Roak asked as he sat down in the co-pilot’s seat.

  Nimm occupied the pilot’s seat and Reck was on weapons. Bishop had his boots up on the navigation console and was busy swiping back and forth between star charts.

  “They are,” Reck said. “Nothing can migrate out of the quarantine drives unless I physically connect them to the ship’s system. They are in a singular environment.”

  “Hold on!” Nimm shouted and the ship took a steep dive then was climbing fast before anyone could adjust to the dive. There were a few loud groans from Bishop, Reck, and Roak. Yellow Eyes raised his arms in the air and grinned from rubbery cheek to rubbery cheek. “Alright. We’re out of the atmosphere.”

  “What was that last thing?” Bishop asked, back to swiping through star charts.

  “Flying giant,” Nimm said.

  No one acted surprised or phased by that statement.

  “We need a place to lay low for twenty-four hours,” Roak said. “This system is off most maps, but there is only the one planet. We’ll be easy to spot if anyone comes snooping. We need chaos.”

  “Already on it,” Bishop said. “We came to that decision while you were playing jungle boy swinging from tentacle to tentacle out there.”

  “I grabbed one tentacle,” Roak snapped. “And you don’t make decisions without me.”

  “Told you,” Reck said. She smiled mockingly at Roak. “So, where should we go, fearless leader?”

  Roak started to ask Hessa where the closest system with as much celestial interference was. He snapped his mouth closed when he realized Hessa was not going to answer. Anger bubbled up inside him and he stamped it down. He’d come to rely on Hessa. He wasn’t going to rely on the others.

  “Let me see,” Roak said and tapped at the co-pilot’s console, bringing up a clone of the navigation system. He began swiping and studying the different systems as he entered parameters that would meet their needs. He could feel the angry eyes on him. He stopped searching and leaned back in his chair. “Fine. Where are we going?”

  “I know a place,” Bishop said.

  “Which means Father knows that place,” Roak responded, extra smug in his voice. No Hessa to chastise him. That thought made the anger in his guts roll. “Nimm? You’re the only one not tainted by Father.”

  “Not exactly sure who this Father really is, but I have an idea where we can go,” Nimm said. “We’re going to Skrang Alliance territory anyway, correct?”

  “Yeah,” Roak replied.

  “Then let’s go,” Nimm said. “We’re already in the DMZ. I know a small asteroid belt in the next system that we can slip into and be safe for at least twenty-four hours.”

  “That’ll give us time to figure out if the information you got from the bartender on Ligston is an actual message from Sha Tog,” Reck said.

  “Do it,” Roak said and stood up. “I’m going to heal my hands then have a steam and something to eat.”

  “Gump stew!” Yellow Eyes exclaimed and was gone in the blink of an eye.

  Roak stomped his way to the lift and was glad it was empty when he reached it. He enjoyed the solitude as he made his way down to t
he med bay. Although, he would have liked to confer with Hessa on the lift ride down.

  And the anger in his guts grew with that thought.

  14.

  By the time the ship reached the asteroid belt, Roak was in a full-on internal fury.

  The long steam he took didn’t help. The bowl of gump stew he ate while Yellow Eyes jabbered on across the table from him didn’t help.

  Roak found an isolated work station in a part of the ship he rarely frequented. There was enough space that he sometimes didn’t see areas of the ship for weeks. Now the place felt so crowded Roak was about to put on an enviro suit and climb out onto the hull.

  But it was his ship, Eight Million Gods damnit.

  The holo display came up as Roak sat down at the work station. He would have told Hessa to show him the inventory data Sha Tog had given Z, but that wasn’t an option. Roak scrolled through the ship’s system until he found the data and brought up the list.

  Roak pored over the information, sure he would see what Sha Tog meant for him to see. But all he saw were duplicate entries of items that Z would need for the tavern. It wasn’t even a weapons inventory.

  “Hessa? Filter out…” Roak punched the work station and the holo display flickered then died. “Eight Million Gods damnit…”

  Roak found a new work station and brought the data up again.

  “Duplicates,” Roak said. “All Sha Tog did was duplicate every entry that Ally already had in the inventory system.”

  He tapped at the keyboard and manually filtered out the duplicates. Nothing was left. No entries at all. Roak could not figure out what he was missing. Why simply duplicate data that was already in Ally’s system? All that would happen would be double orders from vendors.

  Orders from vendors…

  Roak tapped furiously at the keyboard then almost punched it when he couldn’t get what he wanted to happen. He leaned back and closed his eyes tight.

  “Reck?” he called over the comms.

  “What?” Reck replied. “Where are you?”

  “Deck Three, some office work room place,” Roak replied.

  “Thanks for narrowing it down,” Reck said. “We just arrived in the asteroid belt, by the way. Thought maybe the captain of the ship would want to know.”

  “Not the captain of the… Never mind,” Roak responded. “I need your help. Can you recreate the inventory and ordering protocol that Ally would have used at her tavern?”

  “Maybe,” Reck said. “I should be able to recreate something similar.”

  “Good. Do that,” Roak said.

  “I’ll be right there,” Reck replied.

  “I’ll be here… Waiting,” Roak said, but realized she’d already killed her comm.

  Roak tried not to be too impatient. He tried.

  “Took you long enough,” he snapped when Reck arrived.

  “Back off,” Reck said. “Everyone knows you’re jonesing for Hessa to return, so do not take it out on us.”

  Roak was going to respond, but kept his mouth shut and pointed at the holo display of the inventory data.

  “Make the orders,” Roak said calmly when he knew he had his anger under control and wouldn’t yell the command. “Create orders to the vendors just like if Ally was placing them.”

  “You think that’s the key to finding Sha Tog? A little risky,” Reck said, shoving past Roak and taking a seat in front of the holo display. “Z could have placed orders and given it all away.”

  “Z noticed the duplicates, knew they were from Sha Tog, and sent the coded message to me,” Roak said. “Exactly like Sha knew he would. Groshnels can be anal retentive. Z is the most anal retentive of any Groshnel I’ve met. Sha knew that too. No way Z would have placed orders without seeing the duplicates.”

  “Fine. We can try,” Reck said and got to work.

  Roak paced behind her as she typed at the keys. Several times, Reck swiveled her head to glare, but Roak ignored her and continued to pace.

  “Roak?” Nimm called over the comms. “I’m taking Yellow Eyes down into the engine compartment. We’re going to do some work that I think will help us slip into Skrang Alliance territory undetected.”

  “Yeah. Do that,” Roak said, his eyes on the back of Reck’s head.

  “It means tweaking the stealth protocol,” Nimm said.

  “Then tweak the stealth protocol,” Roak replied. “If you screw it up, Hessa will fix it when she’s back.”

  There was a pause. “You sure?”

  “Nimm, just do it,” Roak said. “You’re not some rookie. I doubt you will do anything that will jeopardize the ship since you’re also on the Eight Million Gods damn ship!”

  “Alright. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Do that.”

  “Wow,” Reck said after a couple seconds of silence.

  “Wow, what?” Roak asked, moving in close to the holo display. “You figure it out?”

  “I’m close,” Reck replied. “But I was wowing just how much that AI of yours has worked her way into your psyche. Lone Roak isn’t really so lone anymore. I was half joking about you jonesing for her. Not sure I should be joking at all.”

  “Keep working,” Roak snapped.

  Reck kept working.

  Several minutes later, she stood up from the work station and pointed at the holo display.

  “There you go. All of the orders that would be placed if this was Ally or Z placing the orders. Duplicates down the line…” Reck frowned and leaned closer to the display. “Except this one. It’s not a duplicate. It’s also blank. There’s nothing being ordered.”

  “Let me see who the vendor is,” Roak said and pushed Reck out of the way. Reck almost protested, but shut her mouth when Roak turned and smiled at her. “You did it. Good job.”

  “Uh…thanks?” Reck replied.

  Roak pointed at the vendor name and galactic address. “Chitty McArmor,” Roak said. “With coordinates that I’m guessing will lead us into Skrang Territory.”

  “Chitty McArmor?” Reck asked then grinned. She laughed hard until Roak’s frown threatened to pull his cheeks off his face. “Sorry. But that is funny. Can’t wait to meet this Sha Tog if he’s calling you Chitty McArmor.”

  “Get those coordinates to Bishop and start plotting a course,” Roak ordered. Reck raised an eyebrow. “You want me to be captain? Then do what I say.”

  “I never said I wanted you to be captain,” Reck responded as she turned and walked away. “Just said you are captain. Two very different things, Roak.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Roak said to an empty room. He glanced up at the speaker set into the ceiling and shook his head. “When this is over, no more crew, got it? We drop everyone off wherever they want to go and we are done. I’m the only living being on this ship after that.”

  There was no response, and Roak hadn’t expected one, yet he still felt disappointment at the silence.

  Yellow Eyes appeared in the doorway.

  “What?” Roak asked. “I thought you were helping Nimm?”

  “I was. I am,” Yellow Eyes said. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

  Roak was fairly certain he did not want to see whatever Yellow Eyes was going to show him. Especially since Nimm sent the being to fetch him instead of calling over the comms.

  Yellow Eyes’ many nubs twitched and fidgeted the entire lift ride down to the engine compartment. The room was larger than the cargo hold and noisy as all the Hells. That got Roak’s attention. The room should not have been noisy unless there was something wrong with the engines.

  “Nimm!” Roak shouted over the cacophony. “What is going on?”

  “Not a clue!” Nimm shouted back when Roak reached her. “They’re working on their own and won’t respond to any commands!”

  Roak watched as an army of bots were busy disassembling and reassembling various portions of the engine drives. They were making all of the noise, not the engines themselves, which gave Roak some comfort. At least the ship didn’t look like it was
going to explode anytime soon.

  “They won’t respond at all?” Roak asked. “When did this start?”

  “A few minutes ago,” Nimm replied. She scratched her head. “The thing is, the bots are doing work that is similar to what I was going to do.”

  “What exactly were you going to do?”

  “She was going to change the frequency our engine drives put out so that frequency matched Skrang tech and didn’t look like GF tech,” Yellow Eyes said. “Right?”

  “Yes. Correct,” Nimm said.

  “And the bots are doing the same thing?” Roak asked.

  “Yes, but more efficiently, in my opinion,” Nimm said. “They are changing out certain systems I wasn’t going to touch.” She looked about the engine compartment. “And they are making the changes in a way that is not taking the engines offline or affecting the ship’s status at all.”

  “Bishop?” Roak called over the comms.

  “Yes, Captain?” Bishop replied.

  “Eight Million Gods…” Roak sighed. “How long ago did you enter the coordinates that Reck gave you?”

  “Approximately, twelve”—”

  “Exactly. Give me the exact time.”

  “Eleven minutes and forty-three seconds. Forty-four seconds. Forty-five seconds. Forty”—.”

  Roak cut the comms and looked to Nimm.

  “Yes. The times match up,” Nimm stated.

  “Alright. Not happy about this, but I don’t think it’s meant to harm us,” Roak said. “This is Sha Tog helping out.”

  “You hope, man,” Yellow Eyes said, watching bots scurry to and fro. “Otherwise, we’re kinda screwed.”

  “I’ve been screwed plenty of times and bots making changes to the frequency of our engines is not screwed,” Roak said.

  “Might be,” Yellow Eyes countered.

  “I doubt it,” Roak said and held up a finger before Yellow Eyes could keep the argument going. “Keep an eye on the bots. Report to me if any of this work takes a bad turn. I’m going to the bridge.”

  “I’ll come with,” Nimm said. “We should talk.”

  Roak eyed Yellow Eyes.

  “He can watch the bots on his own,” Nimm said.