Providence - Max Barry Page 0,53
at station and you’re down there.”
He hated that. But it was hard to argue. She was the captain. Ultimately, it was her call. “Everything is fine at the moment.”
“Except for the unexplained fault,” Jackson said. “And the thousand crabs. And the secret engagements.”
“Anders is dark on ping,” Beanfield said. “With permission, Command, I’d like to force his location.”
“What are you talking about? He’s in quarters. He’s confined.”
“Actually, there’s an issue with that that I want to discuss with you.”
“Are you telling me you released him?”
“It’s complicated,” Beanfield said.
There was a metal squeal. Gilly peeled off his film to get a fix on its direction. It seemed to be coming from dead ahead. He pushed on, forging through crabs, trying to ignore the sensation of little spindly legs beneath his boots. When he reached Eng-6, he found crabs massed around the doorway, limbs weaving, knitting. The edges of the doorway were disappearing. The crabs were converting it to a wall.
He lunged forward and swiped at them with his gloves. “They’re walling up Eng-6!” He jammed his film back on and kicked at a cluster near the floor, scattering them. “Fucking crabs everywhere!”
“Say again?” Jackson said.
The squeal came again, louder, and this time he located it as coming from Eng-6. He ducked through the doorway. Inside was Anders, kneeling atop one of the green core bank housings, pushing Gilly’s drill through the thick translucent polymer.
He was frozen by the insanity of what he was seeing. “Anders!”
Anders looked up. He had gotten himself a long screwdriver to use as a drill bit, Gilly saw. Of course he had. Gilly had described the technique in debrief.
“What are you doing?”
Anders hunched over the drill and drove it downward. White smoke leaped and twisted. Lines appeared on Gilly’s film:
□ CORE #0127 SELF-CHECK FAILED (ENG-6)
□ CORE #0126 SELF-CHECK FAILED (ENG-6)
Anders jumped down from the housing. He began to climb the adjoining one.
“What?” Gilly said. “What?”
“What’s happening down there, Intel?”
“Anders is drilling the ship!” He couldn’t understand what Anders was hoping to accomplish. “He’s destroying cores!”
“Anders,” said Jackson. “Stand the fuck down.”
Anders spun the drill experimentally, positioning it over the housing. “We don’t need the AI. I can run Weapons.”
“No, no, don’t drill it,” Gilly said. “Don’t drill it!”
Beanfield: “Anders, you won’t be confined. Please don’t damage the ship.”
Anders leaned on the drill. It began to squeal.
“There are thousands of cores!” Gilly shouted. “You can’t drill them all! Anders, stop!” He slapped the core housing. “Anders!”
Jackson: “Gilly, take him down.”
He wasn’t sure how he would do that. When he glanced around for inspiration, he saw that the doorway had shrunk. Already it was barely a quarter of its original size. The rest was dull yellow metal. Around its edges, crabs worked, knitting, walling them in. He yelped and ran to the door and swept them away. But there were too many: As he repelled some, others surged. “Anders! Help me!” He threw a glance over his shoulder, but Anders was still intent on the drill. “Anders!”
Beanfield: “I’m on my way.”
“Anders, help me!” He couldn’t keep the crabs away. He remembered trying to cut his way into Eng-13, unsuccessfully, because when the crabs walled up a door, they did so in a way his tools couldn’t penetrate. “Anders!” Finally he abandoned the doorway, ran to the core bank, and slapped the housing. “We have to leave!”
Anders glanced at him. Gilly pointed at the doorway. Anders’s gaze shifted to it and Gilly had never seen anyone look so shocked. At last, Anders got it. Gilly extended a hand but Anders came down boots first, at speed, and knocked Gilly off balance. He fell to one knee. To his astonishment, Anders left him. He fled for the door and began to wriggle through it. His hips caught and Gilly watched his legs flailing. There was a sizzling, Anders getting too close to the burning metal the crabs were weaving. Then his legs disappeared. A moment later, Anders’s