Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard by Eleanor Farjeon (best new books to read txt) 📕

Eyes flitted upwards as something banged through some ducts above them, retreating to the fore. I thought I was done with all that zombie nonsense! Gus rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen up against the tightness and tension that threatened to crush him.

“What was that?” someone asked on the comms.

“Probably zombies,” Gus replied instinctually, forgetting the mental link they all shared. He winced as the mental communication also transmitted a slight quaver in his voice.

Gus was still getting used to the system that networked Nth used when in a party. It allowed limited communication and data transmission as long as the party stayed within range. Gus could see Nick playing a small video in the bottom right corner of some of Gus’ old battles with varying types of zombies.

A chorus of groans and gasps came across the mental link. Supers weren’t scared of most things, but zombies appeared to be the one foe that they all seemed to fear. Gus felt like he had not taken them as seriously as he should have, based on the effect the creatures had on the others, who were much more experienced and battle-hardened than he was.

When silence returned, the party moved forward again. Gus led the small group, his resistance to infection being a primary factor. What it didn’t take into account was that if a zombie did manage to jump out and attack him, it didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.

Gus looked to his left and sent a mental command to Jet to scout further ahead. The blade dipped in a nod of agreement and shot forward silently. Metallic clicks were the only sound as the spider-like mapping drones crawled ahead, shining their beams around, illuminating this area of the ship. It was the largest transport Gus had ever seen, and he was not looking forward to how much time it would take to clear the vessel.

A loud *thunk* brought him back to the present. Following its programming, one of the mapping drones did a deep scan of the wall in question, but by the time the drone went through the cycle, all that was revealed was an empty duct.

Gus stared at the spot now visible on his display, trying to gauge if a mantid could fit in the tight space. Were they different sizes? Yeesh. Some of the group had moved forward, following the drones.

“Rattle ya dags,” an accented voice sounded in Gus’ mind. Looking up, one of the Crew was motioning for him to hurry up and get back in the lead. Gus nodded in embarrassment and resumed point. The cheerful super gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder as he led the group to the next section of the ship.

The group exited the cargo area and filed into a line as they entered the main cabin, with seats on either side of a small aisle leading forward. Gus was grateful for the drones going ahead and revealing that there was nothing lying in wait between the seats. Windows had broken in the area and the plastisteel bits crunched noisily as boots walked across the debris moving to the pilots’ cabin.

In the gloom, Gus could smell mold and saw a couple of mushrooms growing where moisture had pooled in the seats and on the ground. Volcanic rock had punctured the ship in this area, allowing the jungle outside to invade. Dry vines had wormed their way into the gash, filling it up and muting the light in the cabin. They appeared to have cut off their own light supply, killing themselves in their urge to explore.

“What is this, a class A transport? Enough seats here to fit a hundred, hundred-fifty easy,” a deep voice asked on the comm.

“Its designation is actually SS,” a female voice replied, “and there are two more cabins just like this, one above and another below us on different levels. Ship’s name appears to be The Banoi. We need to find some intact ports to see if we can interface with the ship’s computers and get some answers.”

“You’re using a remote interface, right? Don’t connect directly to anything—” the deep voice warned.

“Yeah, yeah. I have done this before, alright?” Gus didn’t recognize the super the voice belonged to, but he imagined her to be a mischievous pixie or elf from the lilting tone of her voice. He caught himself mid-musing, wondering how much got transferred along with this mental form of networking, and tried to focus on the task at hand.

The mapping droids had begun to make it to the next section of the ship and its layout was being stitched into existence on his display. It was odd to maneuver in the almost perfect dark sections of the ship with glowing amber lines and textures showing the world around him in monochromatic majesty. Some were so dark it felt like walking in space, supported by some invisible flooring.

“Finally!” pixie-voice cheered and brushed past Gus on her way to a bank of computers. Pulling out a small box about the size of a small dictionary, she fed some cables into various ports and powered on the machine. “It’s downloading, ladies and gentlemen. Wait for it… and it looks like no contamination in the ship’s computer systems. That’s good, but also bad. We still need to locate patient zero or the vector of infection.”

“Is it possible that all of them are gone, that patient zero was already killed?” Gus asked hopefully.

“Maybe. But we’re a long way from anywhere. From what I’m getting from ship logs, this had to be a premeditated attack. What are you feeling, Harmony?”

A woman with a sultry voice beside Gus placed her hands on her temples and pinched her eyes shut. “I sense something ahead. It’s dark…”

She suddenly went limp, another teammate barely catching her before she hit the floor. The rest of them looked toward the doorway that yawned ahead.

Chapter Two

Electric Barbarella

“What happened?” Gus blurted out loud, rushing to kneel next to