Read Online Damage Control - ARC by Mary Jeddore Blakney - Free Book Online

retraced their steps, stood back-to-back in the
center of the triangle, and waited. Several more ships hovered
above the trees in all directions.
    All three spaceships opened. Six Chuzekk
soldiers stepped out: scaly-skinned, bigger than Humans and
hideously fierce-looking.
    One of them approached the women. “Jade
Massilon?” It sounded like “Jade Bassilod?”
    She wanted to say no, she wasn't Jade
Bassilod. She didn't know any Jade Bassilod. But if she did, these
cold-blooded brutes might turn this whole area into one big crater,
just like they had the Pentagon in the first few minutes of the
war—and all those deaths would be her fault. “Yes,” she said. Or at
least she tried to, but her voice wouldn't work.
    The soldier got the message. He took her arm
in one clawed hand. With the other he pointed to one of the ships.
“You will enter that pod.”
    She walked in without resisting. She tried to
catch a glimpse of Becky's face, but by the time she was allowed to
turn around, the door was closed.
    She thought of the time she’d been in Zuke’s
vehicle, just like this one. It was strange to think it had been
less than six months ago. So much had happened since then,
including a new war closer to home, a lot of self-discovery and a
wonderful new boyfriend. And just when things were looking up—with
maybe even a great career boost to top it off, with the Fletcher
job—here she was being forced inside a Chuzekk pod.
    The first time she'd been in a pod, Zuke had
practically had to drag her out of it. Then, she would have given
almost anything to get back inside. But that was before the war.
Now, she'd give anything to get out.
    “You will kneel here,” said the soldier.
    She didn't see any place to kneel, but still
the soldier propelled her forward. There was nothing there but a
sort of sculpture made of tangled, shiny pipes. Had Zuke’s vehicle
had something like that? She couldn’t remember.
    The soldier kept pushing until her thighs
touched the sculpture, and adjusted the pipes so they touched her
shins instead, just below the knees. There were pads on the pipes
where they touched her. The soldier pushed her a little more so
that her knees bent and half her weight was on the pads. Then he
secured another set of pipes around her torso. She was locked in.
Vertical pipes on both sides of her were attached to the floor and
ceiling, supporting the whole arrangement. Otherwise, she had a
good view of half the interior of the craft. And, though she
couldn’t reach anything but the pipes, her arms were free.
    A second soldier started typing with his
claws on a gray metal support-post, and the walls began to light up
with readouts. A short text appeared near the ceiling. She had seen
one like that the last time.
    “What does that say?” she asked,
pointing.
    “Twenty-six-pod optimal status,” answered the
soldier who was typing. Last time, the translation had been
“Twenty-six-pod propulsion failure.”
    “Twenty-six-pod,” Jade repeated. “Is that
what kind of ship this is?”
    “Yes. Any small, ultra-maneuverable,
surface-capable spacecraft is called a pod. Or our word translates
into English as 'pod'. It was originally used only for the
protective shell of certain seeds. This pod is version twenty-six.
Twenty-five is still used, but I don't think that any twenty-fours
are still used.”
    “Probably not,” The soldier who had locked
her in the sculpture-cage studied one of the readouts. It showed a
line drawing of a body with many colored lines and symbols
superimposed on it.
    Jade shifted her weight to her right knee,
just for a change, and some of the lines changed color. Curious,
she leaned on her left knee, and they changed again. She stayed on
her left knee for ten seconds and the readout stayed basically the
same, but when she put her weight back on both knees evenly, it
changed again. Meanwhile, the soldier kept looking at the readout,
then at Jade, then back at the readout again.
    He had a short