Andrew Mackay - Pink Symphony

“Manuel?”

“Yes, Viktor?

“Stop calling me that. Call me Tor.”

“Certainly, Tor .”

“What’s the situation with Pure Genius?”

“The supercomputer is fully operational, now. Everything is well.”

“Good,” Tor ignored Baldron and pointed to the vector image, “Sit-rep report on all souls aboard Opera Beta, please. Engage coordinates, and show them in purple.”

“Certainly.”

“Comrade, please,” Baldron pleaded, “Have Manuel remove this thing from my neck.”

“Look, comrade . We need to know where the others are, and I want to make sure Jaycee is dead—”

The door to the control deck slid open. Tor and Baldron averted their attention to the man entering the room.

A stern-looking Tripp Healy, complete with K-SPARK heavy artillery, “Hey, guys.”

“Hello, Tripp,” Tor clutched at his neck and stood in front of the opened Decapidisc nestled on the comms panel.

“Did you get those nuke thrusters replaced okay?”

“Yes, we did. Everything is… well .”

“You’re starting to sound just like him.”

“Who?”

“Manuel,” Tripp smiled and nodded at the vector image of Opera Beta, “What are you doing with that, Tor?”

“Oh, I…” he stumbled over his need to lie, “Just working out if Pure Genius is up and running.”

Tripp clocked Baldron’s nerves getting the better of him. He threw Tor a look of suspicion but kept his manner friendly and professional, “I see you managed to get your Decapidisc off?”

“It was hurting my neck,” Tor held his breath and watched Tripp walk towards the flight deck. A swift change of conversation was required. “Um, where have you been?”

“Where have I been?” Tripp gripped the back of the flight chair and chuckled with faux confusion, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to report my whereabouts to you at all times.”

Tor and Baldron just knew something was wrong. Tripp knew it, too, and decided to have fun with them. He clocked Jaycee’s glove in the corner of his eye but made out he hadn’t noticed.

“Where’s the big man? Was he helpful?”

Baldron gulped hard, trying not to sweat. His pores had other ideas, though.

“Y-Yes,” he stammered and almost croaked, “H-He was—”

“—Why are you sweating, Landaker?” Tripp asked.

“This is unusual,” Manuel butted in, “I’m detecting a lot more souls than anticipated.”

Tor ignored Manuel and focused his attention on pleasing Tripp, “I’m… not. It’s just hot in here—”

Manuel activated himself and shifted around the room, “Tor, the sit-rep is available. But I’m afraid to report there are many more—”

“—No, Manuel, not now—”

“—Sit-rep? Souls ?” Tripp stepped toward the vector image, away from the flight deck, “What sit-rep?”

Tor held out his hands in defiance. “Manuel, no—”

“—Ah, hello, Tripp. Tor asked me for everyone’s coordinates within Opera Beta. Here they are.”

Tor closed his eyes as three purple dots blotted out inside Medix. Three in the control deck, and one in the corridor just outside.

“Those are just the crew, however.”

Baldron scrunched his face in confusion at the last pulsating purple icon. Someone was just outside the door. He shot Tor a look and then made for the glove on the flight panel.

Tripp didn’t see Baldron snatching the glove – he had his back to him.

“Why do you want to know where everyone is?” Tripp lifted his K-SPARK and slipped his finger around the trigger.

Dozens of purple blobs appeared around the ship’s vector.

Manuel flew around the room trying to catch everyone’s attention, “I seriously advise you act on this information, good people.” A giant blob appeared at the front of the ship’s vector image.

“B-Because…” Tor struggled.

Tripp opened his mouth and shouted at the door. “Jaycee, now!”

“What?” Tor didn’t know where to turn. He backed up and gripped the edges of the deck, “Quick, the glove!”

“I got it, I got it!” Baldron wiggled his fingers into the glove.

Jaycee stomped into the room and pointed his gun at Baldron, “Hey, you .”

“No, d-don’t shoot!”

SCHPLATTT!

Everyone turned to the source of the noise. A giant creature slapped itself to exterior of the flight deck windshield.

“Jaaaaysus,” Tor gasped at the underbelly of the thirty-foot tall creature thumping the transparent plastic.

“Gah!” Baldron looked up at the hundreds of sharp teeth scratching at him from up above. The magnificent beast was darker in color than the other, smaller ones they’d seen, “We’re in hell!”

“Shut up,” Jaycee aimed down his sight and stomped his foot to the ground, “Hey! You idiot, over here.”

Baldron turned around in an utter daze, “Huh?”

The creature shunted the windshield, squealing an ungodly roar at the humans on the other side.

“I want my damn glove back,” Jaycee’s K-SPARK beamed to life, seconds away from firing a bullet, “Throw it to me.”

Baldron squeezed it in his hand, “No!”

“I said give me the damn glove!”

“No!”

CRAAA-AAA-ACK … Scores of hairline cracks blasted across the windshield. It wouldn’t hold off the beast much longer.

“Hell’s teeth!” Tripp backed up and waved everyone to the door, “Everyone, get out of here.”

Manuel flew through the vector image and emitted a beam at the hundreds of purple flashing dots, “Tripp, these unidentified things everywhere. Observe, Primary Air Lock, Level One.”

The vector contours of the airlock image enlarged, offering a more detailed view. A flurry of purple dots bundled up at the line pushing one of them through.

“We’re on level one!” Tripp gasped.

A thunderous crash rattled down the walkway followed by a cacophony of high pitch screeches.

“It’s them ! We’re stuck,” Baldron screamed, “We’re all gonna die!”

Jaycee lifted his K-SPARK to the windshield and yanked the trigger back with his index finger.

“You first.”

The bullet charge bolted out of the barrel, tore through the vector image, and made its way to the dead center of the windshield.

KERR-RAASSH!

Baldron threw himself back. The plastic shield exploded, raining sharp fragments of plastic over the control deck. The giant creature smashed against the flight panel, accidentally knocking the yellow thruster level forward.

“Gaaah!” Baldron tried to swipe at the creature.

Jaycee stepped back slowly as he led the retreat to the closed door, “Quick, behind me.”

“What?” Tor yelled and pointed at Baldron, “You can’t leave him there. That thing will kill him.”

“Good riddance. He can keep that big, ugly bastard busy while we run.”

The entire ship began to rumble to life. Manuel spun around on the spot, “Engines initiated. Prepare for launch.”

“We’re going!” Tripp backed up with Jaycee. Both held their K-SPARKs up at the enormous monstrosity.

“Holy hell, look. It’s killing him.”

“No, no!” Baldron slapped the creature’s bulbous mid-section with the glove. His Decapidisc kept his neck and head inches from the floor, rolling side to side. It also protected his neck from the sharp talons as they jabbed away at his face and neck, “Help me, p-please!”

The creature roared into his face, rippling his skin up the front of his face.

“Gah, gah, please,” Baldron rolled his neck along the rim of his disc and looked at Jaycee, “P-Please, shoot it.”

“I will,” Jaycee looked up from the sight on his gun, “Just as soon as it kills you.”