Ship Wrecked III Read online

  Ship Wrecked III

  Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Other Books by MWM

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  “You know it’s not real, right? That it’s just sprayed on . . .” Heather said in a voice that bordered on irritation. “Oh, come on, Cam.”

  Cameron gently slid his fingertips down the contours of her flat belly, feeling the soft bristles of her blonde, strangely animalistic fur—fur that now covered virtually every inch of her body. They were both naked, having just made love for the second time in a row. God, it’s good to be here with her, he thought. He’d almost given up hope of ever seeing her again. The distant drone of the Aquitaine’s big drives were soothing, and sleep was now calling to him. Soon the ship, previously designated the Ginott 3, would be passing through the next slip band. They should probably both get some rest.

  He kissed her lips instead of answering.

  She pulled away, “What is it with all you men? Captivated by things that are weird or abnormal?”

  His fingertips stopped at her bellybutton. “All us men?”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head—he could tell she regretted her choice of words. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re twisting what I said.”

  Cameron had seen the way Deputy Kirk had looked at Heather earlier, the way he had kept on looking at her ever since their reunion back on Sang Morang. Now, suddenly, this HOD seemed claustrophobic with the two of them inside, despite how much he’d longed for her closeness.

  The tubular device was multifaceted. An inducible deep-sleep chamber and a comprehensive bio-health facilitator, it was also a full-body-cleanse device. But right now, all Cameron could think about was getting out of it. That he needed some air. Their stolen reprieve from an all-too-harsh reality had been broken. It was as if all those little emergencies, those demands for his attention, had suddenly found their way into the hide-a-way HOD enclosure.

  He brushed several strands of her hair from her face. Her voice was just a whisper now. “I love you, Cam. The last few weeks . . . I wouldn’t have survived any of it if I didn’t know you were searching for me. Coming for me. You know you are my world, right?”

  Suddenly, he felt like an ass, ashamed of this jealousy, especially when she had done nothing to warrant it. Why am I sabotaging something so amazing? Finally, they had been reunited back on Sang Morang, the same planet where it had all begun. Where Cameron had originally been marooned. Where he and the giant Loth had lived and survived in that harsh alien wilderness for so many months, all while back on Earth, another Loth was laying waste to his small mountain hometown of Larksburg Stand. Now Earth was being ravaged again, this time by scores of the Loth’s offspring. How much of the planet was already lost? How many lives taken? Millions? He didn’t know. What he did know was that he needed to get back there.

  Cameron drew her in close, breathing in her sweet scent. Kissing her, he opened his eyes slightly and saw that hers were already open as well. She was thinking, considering things. She placed a palm on his chest and moved her mouth away from his. “You know, I was never . . . with him.”

  “Him?” he asked.

  “That Ginott character. I got off that fucking planet with my, um . . . dignity, virtue, whatever, still intact.”

  He saw the intensity in her stare. “I believe you. Still, what you went through . . . it was awful. That you should feel you even need to explain anything is my fault. You were the victim.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Hey, don’t assign that word to me. I’m no victim; I’m a damn wonder woman! From the moment I was abducted by that fucking droid XI back on Sang Morang, I fought and never stopped fighting. And I never gave up. It would have been so easy to find some corner to hide in, to crawl and cower into. But knowing the Loth was with me on that ship—and then later on when we’d arrived at the planet, on Winforge, the Loth gave me strength. I knew, somehow, that together we would survive. And I knew you were looking for me.”

  Cameron smiled. “And look at you now. Yeah, you’re right. You’re certainly not a victim. You not only survived being chained to a post inside a packed arena where wild beasts fought savagely nearby, you were triumphant.”

  “Well, in truth, it was the Loth who was triumphant. But I guess it allowed me to use some smarts,” she said.

  And that she certainly had. She had told Cameron the story. How it had been the proprietor of the great arena, the wealthy overlord of that world, Thoran Ginott. He had dispatched a ship from Winforge, looking for great beasts to battle within his arena, for alien degenerates from all over the nearby star system to come and make their wagers as to which gladiator-like combatant creature would survive. And it had been one of Ginott’s vessels that had absconded with Heather and the Loth from Sang Morang. Ginott had chained her to a post, dressed as some stereotype of a defenseless virgin, clad in a flowing white nighty. But the Loth had won its battle against a far larger beast, and it had come to Heather’s rescue. Once the Loth had one of its tentacles wrapped around Ginott’s body, once the overlord was tightly secured in its grip, Heather was holding all the proverbial cards. Her demands were straightforward. All the beasts being held on Winforge were to be freed. She and her friends, and of course the Loth, were free to leave. And one more thing—his prized modern spacecraft, the Ginott 3, which she had insisted on renaming the Aquitaine, was to be hers.

  Suddenly, a familiar voice filled the HOD. “Emergency! Emergency! Hull breach detected. Atmosphere is venting. Life support systems compromised.”

  Cameron recognized the voice as Alice’s, an AI cyborg being he had known on the Aquitaine’s sister ship, the Primion. But of course, the Alice he knew was not, could not, be onboard this vessel. She was gone.

  Both Heather and Cameron hurried to get dressed within the combined space.

  “What is she talking about?” Heather asked, her eyes wide with concern.

  “I don’t know, but we need to get to the bridge fast and see what’s happening.”

  Chapter 2

  By the time Cameron and Heather had reached the bridge, the others onboard had started to shuffle in. The hour was late, and most, evidenced by their mussed hair and bedraggled appearance, had been awakened by the still-wailing klaxon.

  “Can someone please turn that damn thing off?” Cameron yell
ed above the noise.

  The ship’s cyborg, Tori, whom they had been introduced to just prior to liftoff from Sang Morang, bowed her head slightly. The klaxon went quiet.

  Heather and Cameron exchanged a quick glance. Tori had dramatically altered her appearance in the few hours since they had first met. No longer a plain-Jane, no longer robotic-looking with polished chrome from head to toe, she now had shoulder-length black hair, bright blue eyes, and lifelike flesh. She also seemed to have grown a few strategically placed feminine curves. All in all, she now looked surprisingly human.

  Heather spoke under her breath. “She looks like a dumbed-down version of Alice. Why is she trying to look like her?”

  Cameron had no answer for that. One by one, others meandered onto the bridge. No one looked happy being awakened at such an ungodly hour. As far as Cameron knew, this was everybody now onboard the Aquitaine, with the exception of the Loth, who was secured within a hold several levels below them. Cameron did a quick headcount. Passengers and crew here totaled fifteen. There were those whom Cameron had arrived with onto Sang Morang onboard the little squab-lift spacecraft. That included Heather’s father, Sheriff Christy, and his deputy, Kirk. Others onboard Cameron’s squab-lift included the android Sanu, Rand the Thidion alien, the bat-like and very dangerous Hengtied Portule, whose name was Joe, and a robot named Thack. Then there were those who were part of Heather’s group and had already been aboard the Aquitaine: the humans Manny and Cleeanne, a sour-faced alien Craing named Phonk, a medical bot named Radiant 211, and Captain Peel, a short and dark-haired human of about fifty, who was the vessel’s skipper.

  Then Cameron saw XI, and he was not happy about it. The fact the droid was still in existence, let alone operational, was cause for true concern.

  “What is this all about?” Sheriff Christy said, stepping forward and using his deep, authoritative voice to let everyone know he was the man in charge. He wasn’t, but at well over six-and-a-half feet tall, barrel-chested, and with a shiny, domed pate, he could be fairly intimidating looking.

  Another voice spoke up. “What kind of fucking operation are you running here, missy?” Phonk, the short Craing, turned an angry grimace toward Tori.

  More alarms had begun to sound all around the bridge. Captain Peel, Tori, and even Radiant 211 were seated behind one console or another, all frantically tapping away on their consoles.

  Captain Peel said, “I apologize for the inconvenience. But this is an emergency situation. Upon leaving the last slip band, the Aquitaine sustained substantial damage. Making sudden course changes, even slight ones, can evoke a cataclysmic outcome. We’re looking into what happened, if it was accidental or . . . somehow an act of deliberate sabotage.”

  Alarm bells went off in Cameron’s head. But before he could press further on the matter, Tori spoke over her shoulder. “We have a breach to the hull. Consequently, atmosphere is venting into space from Levels 5 and 6, above us.”

  The hovering XI droid whisked from the bridge compartment to the very back, where it disappeared into an open hatchway situated below a curved staircase. If this vessel’s design was similar to that of the Primion, and so far it seemed to be, the ship’s primary AI, called TAM, would be housed within that area. Cameron took several steps to his left to get a better angle to see into the somewhat-darkened compartment. Sure enough, he saw it was another kind of hall of glowing doughnuts. Each stood upright and over seven feet in height. Even from this angle, he could see straight through the first of the circular, doughnut-hole centers. The others would be situated one after the other, lined up along the curvature of the compartment, each softly glowing with their faint bluish casts. Like the bridge, that compartment was also oval-shaped.

  Turning back to the bridge, Cameron noticed that Tori was looking back at him while her fingers still moved in a blur of motion at her console. Cameron knew that the cyborg and TAM were interconnected. Tori, like Alice before her, was more or less the physical interface for the TAM AI. Although, she could also work autonomously, if the situation arose.

  “What the hell is that droid doing here?” Heather asked. “You can’t actually be trusting it, giving it any real responsibility? You do know XI has tried to kill me.” She glanced over to Cameron. “Both of us, on multiple occasions. The thing’s a fucking killer. It’s diabolical!”

  The sheriff sent a disapproving glance toward his daughter. “Language please, Heather.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “XI’s root programming has been thoroughly cleansed. It’s no longer influenced by any of the earlier Winforge directives. At present, we need the droid’s help,” Tori said.

  “Can you fix it? The hull breach?” the sheriff asked.

  “No. Not with the limited crew onboard the Aquitaine. The best we can do is isolate Levels 5 and 6 from the rest of the ship. But even doing that will only put off the inevitable—the total loss of breathable air onboard this vessel.”

  “So is that the full extent of the damage?” asked Manny, gesturing toward a series of flashing red lights on a nearby console. Cameron remembered Heather mentioning that the muscular young woman had been one of the arena fighters back on Winforge. She looked to be one tough chick.

  Captain Peel shook his head before sharing a discerning look with Tori.

  She spoke for the two of them as she got to her feet. “The Aquitaine has also sustained damage to one of its drive’s antimatter containment fields. Although we are in the process of shutting that drive down, we must land to make proper repairs—repairs that will ensure the containment field’s integrity can be maintained. And as mentioned, the breach must be fixed as well. Simply put, there is not sufficient breathable air to make the extended voyage all the way to Earth. So we must change course. We must land somewhere nearby. Replenish our onboard air reserves and complete the necessary repairs, as mentioned.”

  “Okay, so let’s do that,” Cameron said with a shrug.

  Tori nodded her approval.

  “Wait a minute . . . how long will that take? These repairs and all that you mentioned?” the sheriff asked.

  Tori said, “It could take anywhere from a week to a month, depending on the service capabilities on the planet. The Aquitaine is highly advanced. Well beyond most—”

  “A month! No way I’m getting waylaid out here for another month while that infestation of monsters continues their destruction back on Earth.”

  Captain Peel spoke up. “The issue is that the nearest acceptable planet, Caprice Loland—with a breathable, compatible atmosphere—is 0.6 light years’ distance from our current location in space. Simply put, our air reserves will not last long enough for all of you, us, to survive.”

  “I have a suggestion,” Tori offered. “We have ample escape pods onboard the Aquitaine. Each pod has room for four individuals. Each can be pre-programmed to advance through the various slip bands and make the trek back to Earth. There, the pods will land automatically. You can decide where. So, you see, there is no need for any of you to continue on onboard this vessel.”

  “So what are we waiting for? Let’s get off this doomed ship,” Phonk said smiling, his beady eyes looking for approval between Cameron and the sheriff.

  Heather nodded her head, looking optimistic. “Excellent! We can break up into three groups of four . . . three pods headed for Earth?”

  Cameron eyed Joe, the fifteen-foot-tall Hengtied Portule. Would he even fit inside such cramped quarters? Then he thought about the forty-foot-tall Loth undoubtedly sleeping within the hold somewhere below them.

  He let out a breath. “It’s a pretty good plan.” He looked over at Heather. “I’ll catch up to you as soon as possible. Maybe find a way to shorten that repair-time estimate.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re coming with us, with me!” Heather said.

  Before Cameron could reply, Deputy Kirk said, “It’s that damn beast of his. No way he’ll leave it behind.”

  Grimacing, Heather closed her eyes and opened them
again. “Of course. Sorry I forgot, Cam. But certainly, the captain can deliver the Loth later.” She looked to Captain Peel. “Surely you have enough air for the Loth to survive?”

  “Actually, no. Nowhere near sufficient for a prolonged journey. But we do have environmental suits.” He eyed Joe, the tips of the alien’s high-reaching wings protruding up behind his shoulders. “Suits that are designed for the humanoid anatomy, or the like.”

  Kirk momentarily smiled before changing his expression to one of concern. He placed a consoling hand on Heather’s shoulder. “Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Hey, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, right? We need to get home, Heather. You need to get home. And then we can do needed recognizance . . . for when the Aquitaine shows up later.”

  She ignored his words and the hand on her shoulder. That sounded ridiculous to her, but perhaps there was some kind of logic to it. “So, you’re telling me that our oversized organics, as you put it, wouldn’t survive a trip to this Caprice Loland?”

  “That is correct,” Tori said. “I’m sorry. You must all leave, and soon. And our Hengtied Portule friend certainly could occupy a pod by itself, no?”

  “Well, that still leaves the Loth suffocating down there in its hold. There must be other planets with breathable air—ones that are closer,” Cameron said.

  Tori exchanged another glance with the captain. “Yes, but not ones with adequate facilities for making repairs to an advanced starship such as this one. I’m sorry.”

  Cameron gestured toward the primary view screen. “Fine, let’s forget about the repairs for now. Show me any nearby planet that has a suitable atmosphere, an environment that supports life.”

  “No!” Heather rebelled. “You’re not doing that, Cam!”

  He raised his palms up to her—a just-let-me-speak kind of gesture. “Listen to me, I’m not leaving the Loth here on this ship to suffocate. We’ve been through too much together. So, don’t even try arguing with me.” Cameron faced the captain. “Look, find me a compatible planet close by. Before landing, you can send off a distress call, a mayday or whatever. Surely there are other ships that traverse this section of space?”