The Darkness Page 2

  “That’s how these mercenary types work,” Stel agreed. “They seem friendly, then blammo. You’re locked away for something you didn’t even do. This one time—”

  There was a rumbling thud from somewhere deep inside the ship, and the lights in the ceiling flickered. Stel broke off, looking around uncertainly. Davin was sitting upright, his eyes glinting.

  The sound came again, and suddenly they were plunged into complete blackness. Lina pushed Milo behind her, facing the corridor. But the dark only lasted a few moments before the lights buzzed and flickered back on, a little dimmer than before.

  “What just happened?” Milo asked.

  “We’re out of hyperspace,” Stel told them.

  The ship rocked beneath them and Lina almost lost her balance, reaching out to grip the bars. “We’re adrift,” she said, her feeling of unease deepening. Where was CR-8R?

  She was distracted by a deafening slam from outside the cell. Davin was standing upright, his cup clutched in his hand. As Lina watched he drove it into the bars with all his might. The steel gate shook but stayed firm. The tin cup crumpled, but Davin punched again, driving his fist into the bars, using the cup as a shield. The noise of metal on metal resounded from the prison walls.

  “Well, at least someone’s got a plan,” Stel said, but Lina heard the discomfort in his voice. They had enough to worry about without that monster getting loose.

  “Attention, prisoner!” a shrill voice barked, and an eerie blue light filled the cell block. “Any attempt to escape will be met with retaliatory force!”

  The air outside Davin’s cell shimmered and a figure appeared. It was the Shade—or at least a hologram of her, projected from a tiny glass eye set into the floor. The form was outlined in blue, one hand raised. But the image was fuzzy, rippling and breaking like a reflection in choppy water.

  Davin shook his head and slammed his fist into the bars again.

  “You have been warned!” the hologram barked. Then a bolt of energy shot from the projector housing, missing Davin by centimeters. It hit the wall and rebounded back into the hologram, which fizzled and disappeared. The alien kept pounding away.

  “Great security system,” Stel said sarcastically. “Really, super effective.”

  “It seems like the whole ship’s on the fritz,” Lina said. “The lights, the engines. But where’s the Shade?”

  “Maybe she’s trying to fix it,” Milo suggested.

  “Or maybe she’s out of action,” Stel offered darkly. “Maybe something happened to her. Maybe she got sick. Maybe we’re stuck on a drifting ship light-years from anywhere, and all they’ll find in a hundred years is four little skeletons still locked in these blasted cells!” And he slammed the bars in frustration.

  “Don’t talk like that,” Lina said. “It isn’t helpful. And besides, we do have a chance. If all the systems are out, maybe that means—”

  “Crater!” Milo cried, and Lina turned to see the cell block door sliding open and a familiar shape floating through.

  “Crate!” she cried. “You’re okay!”

  The droid drifted toward them, clapping one hand to his metal forehead in relief. “And so are you both,” he said. “The whole time I was stuck in there, I was terrified for your safety.”

  “Stuck in where, Crate?” Milo asked. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure,” the droid admitted. “After I brought the captain her lunch, she ordered me to seal myself in a storage closet and stay there until she called for me. I tried to protest, Master Milo, honestly I did. I know how bad-tempered you get when you’re hungry.”

  Stel barked a laugh and Milo blushed.

  “But I had no choice,” CR-8R insisted. “Anyway, after some time I saw the lights go out and felt the ship start to drift. I realized the restraining bolt was no longer operating. I left the closet, but there was no sign of Captain Mondatha. I decided I should check on you first before I looked into the source of the problem. Besides, it’s very dark out there.”

  “You did good, Crate,” Lina said. “Now can you get us out of here?”

  “Right away,” CR-8R said, and tapped the code into the keypad. The gate swung open.

  “I can honestly say I have never been more pleased to see a droid in my life,” Stel said, grinning through the bars of his cell. “Now get me out of here and we can go see what’s happened to the ship.”

  CR-8R looked at Lina, who bit her lip. Then, slowly, she shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But we don’t know you. We’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as we figure it out.”

  Stel’s face dropped. “You’re leaving me here? With that?”

  He jerked a thumb at Davin, who had stopped hammering and was watching them all intently.

  “You shouldn’t go out there,” he said suddenly, his eyes fixed on Lina.

  She looked at the Lasat in surprise. Was that supposed to be a caution or a threat? Did Davin know more than he was letting on? But the giant just stared back, his gray eyes shadowed by his jutting brow.

  Lina broke away, turning back to Stel. “I’m really sorry,” she said. “We’ve had some bad experiences with strangers lately.” Milo was already waiting in the doorway. Behind him, all was darkness.

  “I gave you a food bar!” Stel protested. “I told you my whole life story. I thought we were friends!”

  “I’m sure we will be,” Lina said apologetically, joining her brother. “When this is all over, I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Just sit tight.”

  “No!” Stel cried desperately before the door slid shut, cutting him off. The darkness deepened and Lina let out a long breath. The air in the corridor was still and cold.

  “We’ll come back for him, won’t we?” Milo asked.

  “Sure we will,” Lina said. “But first let’s get up to the bridge.”

  Behind them she heard a slam, and another, and another. Davin, she thought. I really hope those bars are as solid as they look.

  “SWITCH ON your beams, Crate,” Milo suggested as they followed the droid into the deepening darkness. A dull gleam leaked from beneath CR-8R’s cranial dome and a series of blinking red lights marked the edges of the walkway. But otherwise the corridor was pitch-black.

  “I’m afraid my power is running very low,” the droid told him. “I haven’t had the chance to charge since we were on the Whisper Bird. We have no idea how much power is in the ship’s cells, or how long this situation will take to resolve. I’d hate to shut down just when you needed me most.”

  “You’re right, Crater,” Lina agreed. “Besides, a little darkness never hurt anyone. Right?”

  “I guess,” Milo said uncertainly. He’d never been afraid of the dark, exactly. But he’d never been fond of it, either.

  “I can see perfectly clearly with my infrared,” CR-8R said. “I will guide you.”

  There was a sudden metallic clang, and Lina yelled. CR-8R’s head swiveled around.

  “I’m okay,” Lina said through gritted teeth. “I just walked into something pointy. Thanks for the warning, Crate. We can’t all float, remember?”

  The droid peered down. “It appears to be a toolbox of some kind,” he said. “My apologies, Mistress Lina. I will try to be more observant in the future.”

  The droid led them on, and Milo realized his eyes were beginning to adjust. Ahead of them rose a steep flight of steps.

  “These stairs lead to the cargo bay,” CR-8R explained. “On the other side of that is the bridge.”

  “And that’s where we’ll get our answers,” Lina said.

  As Milo climbed, he tried to build a mental picture of the Moveable Feast from what he’d seen in the docking bay back on Lothal. It was a large ship—not as bulky as an Imperial freighter but a lot bigger than the Whisper Bird. He remembered the body of the craft rising above him, and he’d seen the cockpit, too, or at least a row of windows on the front of the craft.

  There was a metallic creak, and the ship tilted sickeningly. Milo stagg
ered into the railing, lurching out into empty space. Lina grabbed hold, pulling him back.

  “The artificial gravity’s weakening,” she said as the tilting stopped and the Moveable Feast settled back into position.

  “What could do this?” Milo asked. “Fry all the ship’s systems at once?”

  “I don’t know,” Lina admitted. “Some kind of computer virus? A bug in the system? I won’t know until we reach the bridge.”

  “Here’s the door,” CR-8R said, tapping in a code. “Be careful now. Just follow the sound of my—”

  “Not do move!” a voice shrieked, and a pale blue hologram flickered to life in front of them. The Shade stood in the doorway, her arms crossed. “Go back cell immedi-edi-edi. You been have warneded!”

  CR-8R paused, staring the hologram in the face. “Oh, be quiet,” he muttered, and drifted through the doorway. His metal skin shone blue as he broke through the hologram and out the other side.

  “Stop!” the hologram shrieked. “Stop right! Steps will be take-ake-ake!”

  Milo looked up at the stern, flickering figure. There was something creepy about the hologram shimmering like a specter in the darkness, its recorded message glitching and repeating.

  “Go on, Lo-Bro.” Lina gave him a gentle push from behind. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

  Milo took a step through, and the hologram turned with him. “Cease!” it bellowed. “You been have warned-ed-ed-ed-ed-ed!”

  The figure twitched manically as if it was being electrocuted, screaming the same syllable over and over. The shrill voice echoed back from the walls and the ceiling like an alarm. “Dead! Dead! Dead!” it seemed to cry, the sounds clashing and blurring until Milo was forced to cover his ears.

  Lina pushed through, gritting her teeth. In the silver-edged light, Milo could see out into the cargo bay, towering stacks of crates rising toward a shadowy ceiling.

  Then the door slid shut and the hologram vanished abruptly, plunging them into darkness.

  “Well, that was incredibly creepy,” Lina said, and Milo stifled a laugh.

  Now the darkness was absolute. He waved a hand in front of his face but could see nothing, even when he accidentally slapped himself on the nose.

  “Just follow my voice,” CR-8R called out. “It isn’t far.”

  Milo stuck out his arms, feeling his way cautiously. The floor underfoot was solid steel, but the walls were uneven, just piles of stacked boxes and containers.

  “What’s in all these crates, Crate?” he asked as they made their way deeper into the darkness.

  “Captain Mondatha told me not to ask,” the droid told him. “I suspect that whatever it is, it’s not entirely legal.”

  “Sansanna spice?” Lina asked.

  “I don’t think so,” CR-8R admitted. “We would be able to smell it. This was something else. I saw a word printed on several of the containers. Cylo.” He spelled it out for them.

  “Means nothing to me,” Lina admitted.

  “There’s a sharp turn here,” CR-8R warned them. “So be—oh!”

  Milo froze. “Crate? Are you okay?”

  “Quite all right,” the droid said. “I just…Never mind.”

  “What is it, Crater?” Lina asked. “If you’ve seen something weird, you should tell us. I know you don’t want us to be scared, but it’s better if we know exactly what’s going on.”

  “It really isn’t important,” CR-8R insisted. “I just brushed into something, that’s all.”

  “What about your infrared?” Milo asked.

  “It didn’t show up on my infrared,” the droid admitted as Milo and Lina came up behind him. “It seems to be a membrane of some sort. It’s so thin, it was almost invisible.”

  Milo reached out. At first he felt nothing, then his hand brushed against something soft and ever so slightly sticky. It wrapped around his fingers and he pulled back, the substance vibrating as he did so.

  “Hang on, didn’t you come this way a few minutes ago?” Lina asked. “On your way to the cell block?”

  “It wasn’t here then,” CR-8R said. “That’s why I was surprised. But I’m sure it’s nothing. Let’s keep moving. Maybe just a little faster.”

  The droid drifted on, his repulsors humming. Milo followed, alert to every creak and groan of the ship around them.

  After a few moments the echo of their footsteps changed and Milo knew they had entered a more open space. There was a brief flash of white light, and he saw that they were standing in the center of a wide circle of crates.

  And as the light faded he thought he saw something else, too—a tiny shape, low to the ground. It was moving.

  “That light came from underneath us,” Lina said, looking down.

  The flash came again, a jagged electric spark, and Milo saw that she was right.

  There appeared to be a hole in the floor, off to their left. It was roughly circular, about two arm spans wide and ragged around the edges, as though something had melted or chewed through the durasteel deck.

  Lina and Milo stood on the edge, peering down. The light came again, sparks spraying from a sheared cable in the side of the hole. In the glare, Milo saw how deep it went—right down into the bowels of the ship. And again he saw movement, tiny shapes far below.

  “Did you see that?” he asked Lina. “There’s something down there.”

  “I saw it,” Lina said. Then she raised her voice. “Crater! I think you should get back here. We need light.”

  “What about his power cells?” Milo asked.

  “This is more important,” Lina told him. “It’s all too weird. We need to take a proper—”

  The ship lurched suddenly beneath them, the floor tipping violently. Lina staggered and Milo reached for her, grabbing at her shirt. All around them he heard crates tottering and crashing.

  The ship shook again, and in the flash that followed Milo saw Lina falling. “Milo!” she cried out, staggering back.

  Milo tried to tighten his grip on her shirt, but the material tore and she tumbled into the ragged hole.

  The ship righted itself, and the light faded. Lina was gone.

  “Master Milo,” CR-8R said, coming up behind him. “What happened? Where is Mistress Lina?”

  “She fell!” Milo told him. “Lina! Lina, can you hear me?”

  CR-8R switched on his beams, flooding the hole with light. Milo heard that rustling again, much louder now, like the sound of hundreds of tiny feet scrabbling away on the deck below.

  “Milo?” Lina’s voice was distant and muffled, echoing up through the hole in the floor. “Milo, where are you?”

  “I’m right here,” he called back, peering down.

  “I can’t move,” Lina said. “Milo, I’m stuck. And there’s something down here. Something alive.”

  “We have to get down there,” Milo told CR-8R. “Can you float down and get her?”

  “It would be a squeeze,” the droid said. “And I won’t leave you alone. Follow me, the steps are this way.”

  “We’re coming, Lina!” Milo called down. “Just hold tight.”

  “Okay,” Lina said. “But hurry.”

  CR-8R kept his beams lit, leading Milo through the crates to the outer wall of the ship, which rose sheer and black ahead of them. In the wall was a dark opening and a winding staircase leading down.

  CR-8R went ahead, but Milo found himself unable to move. He stood at the top of the steps, his heart pounding.

  Memories flooded through him of a house they’d stayed in back on Tharl, an old wooden lodge his dad had borrowed between expeditions. Milo had loved everything about the place—except the basement. It had rickety, creaking steps, the lights never worked, and it was filled with all kinds of critters and bugs, webs and dust. He used to stand at the top of the stairs and will himself to go down there—but he never could.

  Well, he was older now, and braver. And besides, Lina was in trouble, and he wouldn’t leave her. He swallowed his fear and started down.

  LINA
FELT SOMETHING crawling up her leg. She tried to lie still, pressing her arms to her sides. Not that she could move very far anyway—she was wrapped in something smooth and sticky, the same substance CR-8R had found on the upper deck. The stuff was everywhere down there, great white webs threaded between the walls. One of them had broken her fall, but when she tried to crawl free she found herself stuck.

  Sparks flared from the hole overhead and the thing on her leg froze, then began to move once more. It was joined by another, starting down at her foot and scuttling silently upward. She craned her neck, feeling the sticky substance knotting in her hair.

  She took a breath and tried to calm herself. If she stayed completely still, perhaps these creatures wouldn’t hurt her. They had reached her stomach now, and she felt a cold, almost metallic touch on her skin as they scuttled across the exposed spot where her shirt had torn as she fell.

  Then the flash came again, and Lina had to bite her tongue to stop herself from crying out. One of them hovered directly above her, a circular shape about the size of her hand. Eight legs jutted from it, gleaming silver. Black, segmented eyes reflected the sparks from above.

  The creature was hanging by a fine thread, descending slowly but steadily toward her face. She saw tiny pincers snapping and heard the whir of microscopic gears.

  Then the light was gone. Lina felt a wave of panic, knowing that any moment the spider would touch down, would brush her face with its thin little legs. She couldn’t stand it.

  She shook her head violently, trying to tear herself free. The other spiders were still climbing, tugging at her shirt as they scuttled closer, and still closer. She felt more of them on her legs.

  “Milo!” she cried out in terror. “Where are you?”

  Then, suddenly, the deck was flooded with light. CR-8R swept in, his beams on full power. Milo followed, his fists raised.

  Lina heard a high-pitched squeal and saw the spider above her rising fast, legs writhing and tugging at the thread as it pulled itself back up. The silver skin on its back seemed to ripple and blister in the light, and she thought she saw a haze of smoke trailing from it. It vanished into the shadows, leaving a smell like scorched metal.