IN THE MAZE OF MINOS
They were being hunted. Two artificial people trapped in a world of human pain and terror. It shouldn’t have been like this.
Mae sat, staring at her silhouette as it cast shadows in crimson light, while she contemplated the end.
Was this what Father went through?
Knees folded tightly into her chest, she stared at the communication panel in front of her. It blinked a few times before going out.
Rook touched her shoulder. “This won’t help. We have to move—right now.”
The pulsing red light cast the pilot of the Blackstar’s sharp, angular face in strange shadows. It bounced off the myriad of ragged scars in his synthetic skin and the slightly twisted jaw that he’d attempted to repair himself. Like her, he wore a human face, though his was considerably more battered. Mae’s face was unique, while his was repeated all over the middle heavens. Bishop models were prized in technical fields, but today he was performing an even more valuable role: helping her save the Jackals.
Mae feared the next message she waited for wouldn’t come. That was awful, but logical—yet she found herself rooted to the spot. The klaxon blared, filling the corridor with relentless noise and flashes of scarlet light to show time was running out. Not much of it remained.
“Attention. Emergency. All personnel must evacuate immediately. Get to your nearest escape pod. You now have ten minutes to lockdown protocol.” The soothing voice was that of a calm, collected woman, not one trapped in a dying space station with monstrosities in every shadow.
Her mother, Colonel Zula Hendricks, called it the Mama Warning, or in her darker moments, the Kiss Your Ass Goodbye Warning.
Despite the screaming klaxon and the message repeated over and over, the beast still pounded on the hatch. Rook tilted his head towards it, as if to remind her again that she couldn’t keep waiting for another message that would never come. The repetitive thud of chitin hitting reinforced steel somehow made itself heard over the wailing alarm. Fear welled inside her. She would have dearly loved to hear from her father, Davis, in this moment.
He’d been there when she first woke on the Righteous Fury and provided guidance in those first days as a synthetic person. He would have said something useful now, or at least something funny.
Most of all, she wished her mother, Colonel Zula Hendricks, stood at her side, giving orders and telling her the right action to take. But that wasn’t possible. She was with Red Mae. Hopefully, that splinter persona would help Zula and her unit stay alive until Mae Prime came back with help.
That wouldn’t happen if she didn’t move right now.
Rook took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He was a strange synthetic, unhooked from human control in a way she’d never seen from another of their kind—except for herself. Sitting as still as she was, he must’ve been worried she’d picked up a corrupted subroutine. “The elevator isn’t far.”
Another bang echoed through the dark station corridor. At this sub-level, they were alone. They’d lost their unit during the chaos of their mission. One desperate message from Colonel Hendricks and Red Team was all Mae hung her hopes on. Whether they’d made it to some kind of safety, she couldn’t tell. Her mother only managed a single transmission: she and her unit were trapped while trying to make it back to the space elevator.
All the Jackals would die here in the darkest corner of the universe if Mae or Rook didn’t escape and let someone know what happened on Minos
Station.
Mae wondered if Rook experienced the same swirl of emotions as her. They hadn’t found time to compare notes about their specifications, and it didn’t look like they’d have any now.
They’d lost audio contact with Red Team, but she still glanced at the personal wrist device all Jackals were equipped with. Willpower wouldn’t make green letters appear on its screen. Another pause gave the Xenomorph a chance to think, too.
The monster changed tactics, going from rhythmic banging to something more cunning. The sly scratching around the hatch was somehow even worse than the thundering attacks. This variant of Xenomorph wasn’t like anything they’d encountered on Shānmén. That was the inherent horror of the beast: it adapted to every situation by stealing the advantages of its host.
Mae checked the records from the Jackals’ database within her. While Xenomorphs—particularly queens—were observed opening doors, they’d never been recorded opening an airlock or hatch. However, they were not animals, which was the greatest peril. Complacency in the matter of Xenomorphs always led to disaster.
There is no greater danger than underestimating your opponent.
Could that be the echo of her dead father? Mae filed that away for later—if there was a later. She pushed away from the wall. “Okay, right behind you.”
Rook was the only other synthetic who knew Mae’s secret. It was comfortable to share a small network as they did. They didn’t need words, but she’d been practicing her human reactions for months. Rook’s mouth crooked in a slight smile at her strangeness, but he’d picked up a few of his own quirks, too.
Together, they bolted away from the hatch. Even if the Xenomorph didn’t open it, there were always the air ducts and other vital pipework. Xenos had a particular knack for sniffing out those claustrophobic spaces and the station artificial intelligence wouldn’t lock them down, since that would mean death to all the human residents. Given their options, though, that might’ve been a mercy.
Rook’s and Mae’s synthetic eyes didn’t operate like a flesh-and-blood human’s. The station AI had activated evacuation protocols, restricting power to emergency and running lights leading to exits. Luckily, neither of them needed any illumination to find their way down the utilitarian corridor.
As a synthetic person, Mae realized she shouldn’t feel this tired. Her efforts to become more like her mother over the last few months began to bear fruit, but right now it got in the way of survival.
They both discarded their pulse rifles long before the ammo counters clicked to ‘00’. Rook carried a pistol, and Mae clutched a bowie knife Zula had gifted her. Neither of those would be much use if a Xenomorph decided they were a threat, though. When she chose
to abandon her combat droid body for one more like a human, she gave up a lot of durability. Mae was almost as fragile as a human in many respects, now.
The Bishop models were sturdier—but not built for heavy combat, either.
This way. I overheard Station Chief Rolstad mentioning an elevator for executive staff that goes directly to Minos’s command center. He seemed quite proud of it. We can get a shuttle from there.
The corridor flashed blood red occasionally as they ran through the administration section of the facility. The staff left everything behind: papers on the floor, spilled cups of coffee, and overturned chairs. Unattended lights and alarms beeped urgently.
Under evacuation protocol, every one of the codes that Mae and Rook would have used as synthetics to connect with the station computer, open doors, and find their way was disabled. They were equally as fucked as the rest of the humans on this infected space station.
Something in the shadows moved above them, a creaking in the pipes that caused Rook to stop and duck behind a desk, pulling her with him. Rook slowly lifted one finger to his lips, gesturing Mae to be silent.
Normally, a Xenomorph would not be interested in a synthetic person. They couldn’t host a growing embryo in their chests. The abominations needed flesh to grow their colony, and would only attack a synthetic if they carried a weapon or posed any other threat. However, these infected Xenomorphs acted differently to the ones in Mae’s records.
On the lower levels, she’d witnessed them rip combat synthetics apart even as they stood in their charging racks. She and Rook were in as much danger as the genetic humans on this station. Perhaps while the humans studied them, the Xenos ran their own investigation in return. They’d certainly been around synthetics every moment this experiment was in progress.
Rook’s eyes tracked the pattern of the sound reverberating off the ceiling above them. You know, I used to be called Father at one time. So let me be that now to you. I’ll go first. Stay down.
You’re not my father, Mae shot back. She wondered in what context he’d be a parent, but that story would have to wait.
His eyebrow jumped up at that. A father is someone meant to protect, and your mother entrusted you into my care. However, if you prefer, I can address you as Lieutenant.
Rook chose this moment to remind her of the rank. Mae sent the synthetic equivalent of a middle finger across their connection.
It is my duty to never harm or allow a human to be harmed. I count you among that number, as far as the colonel is concerned.
She couldn’t argue
with that.
He crouched down and glanced back. His gentle green eyes locked on her. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. I may be synthetic, but I’m not stupid.
Mae shook her head. Artificial people often batted that line amongst themselves. It was as close to humor as most got. But in that millisecond when she was disarmed, Rook took action. He darted between the desks and towards the larger offices.
He remained so calm that Mae was almost jealous. He disappeared from view, even as the creaks and groans from above sounded louder. The Xenomorphs did love to travel in the air ducts. They were much more agile than a human up there, and it suited their favorite method of attack: ambush.
I’m calling the elevator now. It’s safe. Rook’s transmission was slightly distorted. Their fragile shared network had a limited signal strength amongst the metal of the station’s superstructure.
Mae leaped to her feet and hustled after him until the pressure door slammed down centimeters in front of her face. On the other side, Rook spun around.
Safeguard protocol on the executive level must have triggered when I called the elevator. He hastily examined each side of the door. It’s under evac protocol. I can’t open it.
They stared at each other for 8.23 seconds through the glass. Behind Rook, the elevator pinged a bell-like tone to announce its arrival. It was an incongruously happy sound given the situation.
You can reach the small freight deck directly off the galleria. The kitchen staff get all their supplies delivered there. Your mother ordered the Blackstar moved there for repairs. Rook pressed his hand against the door for a moment. Go back down one corridor, turn right. Take the transit. Go now.
Mae felt a touch of panic. We were supposed to go together. You have my Deep Lock key. What if something happens to you?
He nodded. I’ll be fine. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ll find you. Go.
Dampening down her concerns, Mae took one last look at Rook and ran back the way they’d come until she spotted the large, distressed words under a scarlet arrow on the wall:
TRANSIT STATION TO GALLERIA, OBSERVATION DECK, AND CANTEEN.
Mae had little experience with space stations. However, it made sense they’d have supply shuttles for ferrying the food and supplies needed to keep humans productive. The Jackals complained about and rejoiced in food. It almost made Mae wish for taste buds, sometimes.
She’d couldn’t afford to think of Shipp, Yoo, or Littlefield right now.
Crouching low, Mae followed the arrow along the corridors towards the transit tram. It was still functional—at least for a few more minutes. She jumped on, and when the doors finally shut, she found it appropriate to sigh. Even without lungs to fill with oxygen, it felt good.
“Where are you headed?”
The voice made her spin around, ready to attack.
A David unit sat alone on the bench seat, but shuffled aside as the transit tram whirred to life and rumbled on. His handsome face turned to her and smiled. Mae realized with a lurch that all the synthetics on the station were being abandoned. Even if the station survived, they’d be wandering around with Xenomorphs that would eventually rip them to pieces. That, or they’d gradually fail and fall apart. Mae couldn’t decide which was the worse fate.
She sat down on the seat next to him and smiled back. “Galleria.”
“Lovely at this cycle,” he replied. “The two moons outlined against the sun.”
Mae stared down at her hands for a moment. “You should probably go into rest mode. The humans are evacuating.”
“But you’re not.” His right lip curled as David’s smile stretched a little too wide. “You are, in fact, an intruder on this station.”
He gave away his intentions a nanosecond before attacking. Mae anticipated and swayed back as his lightning-fast punch came for her head. She ducked and rolled away as he kicked one leg towards her, seeking to crush her torso against the steel floor.
Mae grabbed hold of his leg in an attempt to unbalance him, straining against the power of the other synthetic. Turning, he grabbed her head in his hands, face contorting into an even more unnatural smile.
“You’re becoming hysterical. Let me calm you down.” His voice came out soft and calming, even as he strained against her.
Mae understood immediately that his methods were going to be fatal. All this time she’d worried about the Xenomorphs, and now one of her own brethren would kill her.
2
SEEKING A STAR
In a combat body, Mae would have been able to overpower this David unit easily. However, she currently occupied her custom made, most human-like shell. Although Davids weren’t created for combat specifically, over time the public realized they still could cause harm. The company put this model out of commission after fatal malfunctioning incidents. Many attempts to staunch the secondary black-market trade proved futile. The UPP and fringe colonies, as well as companies looking to slash their bottom line, took advantage of cut-rate prices.
Much like he attempted to slash her major control micro-hydraulics. They traded blows up and down the transit tram. Mae deflected his strikes on her forearm, but leaving her upper body vulnerable. He inflicted a cut on her neck. For a human, that would have been deadly, but it still knocked her back. He’d cut a narrow slice in her skin, and a thin line of her bespoke red circulatory fluid trickled over her shoulder. The David’s gaze darted to it in surprise. All androids’ fluids were a thin, milky white.
His bewilderment gave her a moment. As the transit tram gained momentum, both reached for the rail to stabilize themselves. She activated the one advantage she possessed. Though Mae wasn’t in a combat body, she did still have the programming. Security subroutines activated, mirroring a human adrenaline rush.
Catching the David by the arm, she spun him around, throwing him into the orange vertical grab rail. The carriage resounded with the crash of his internal structure connecting, carbon fiber against metal. He rolled to his feet, though the pole remained bent to his shape.
Faster than any human could, he closed, landing three successive powerful punches on Mae’s torso. She absorbed them with a snarl she’d learned from Captain Olivia Shipp, her mother’s greatest confidante. Then, spinning, she caught the next punch he threw in her hand, squeezing and twisting at the same time.
Mae used the force of his momentum to shift him off balance. She stepped around him, and in one smooth move, pulled her bowie knife from her boot and rammed it into the side of his head.
White circulatory fluid exploded over her weapon and fist. The David’s eyes went blank. His hand twitched fractionally. It was a clean blow to his central processing core, and he dropped to his knees.
Mae jerked the knife free, and he toppled over onto his face with a thud. She might have felt a twinge of remorse, but she’d never liked the David models. Knowing their history as she did, she was pleased to take at least one out of commission.
The transit tram lurched to a stop as the station warning sounded again.
“Attention. Emergency. All personnel must evacuate immediately. Get to your nearest escape pod. You now have five minutes to evacuation protocol.”
Mae bolted out of the tram and onto the galleria deck. Only a few hours since she’d stood here watching the citizens of the station line up for noodles. Now the empty storefronts flickered with red emergency lighting. People once ate here, communed with their colleagues, and enjoyed an unhurried moment. The company designed the station to conceal its terrible experiments, but everyday people still lived here.
Now it was a broken nightmare-scape of people searching for a way out. The tang of blood filled the air, while control panels sparked with barely contained fires. The workers clustered near the safety bay on the galleria’s outer rim, which held ranks of cryo escape pods. Deep space versions like these were self-propelled, designed to travel to the nearest shipping lane or habitable
world, but slowly enough to preserve its fragile cargo. However, such safety measures would take too long for her purposes. Mae needed to reach the Blackstar and get help for the Jackals immediately.
Small groups of station personnel argued by the remaining three pods. Fists were flying, and Mae’s internal protocols were at an impasse. Her orders were to seek help for Zula Hendricks and the Jackals, but these were people who needed her assistance, too. Davis, however, controlled her specifications when she was made, and he’d chosen to give his daughter free will like a genetic human. It was a tough choice. If she waited here to sort this out, she might not get off Minos. The Jackals and her mother would perish.
In the end she chose her mother and her team. Mae bypassed the fight and ran past the escape pod array, towards the door marked NO ENTRANCE.
A young woman stood by the control panel, furiously punching numbers. She turned her terrified face in Mae’s direction. A name tag on her shirt said ALICE PRIM.
“My shuttle’s in there,” Alice gasped as her eyes grew huge. “I delivered power cores a few hours ago, but now it’s locked me out.”
“I’ll run a bypass,” Mae said. “Give me one second.”
The woman nodded, blinked back tears, and scooted out of the way. Mae withdrew her kit from inside her jacket and plugged it in. Hopefully, in the chaos, Alice wouldn’t notice she did it faster than any genetic human could. The lights swirled and blinked before letting out a low beep that was almost lost in the surrounding noise.
The door slid open, and Alice let out a relieved laugh. “Oh my god, let’s go!”
Behind her, the red emergency light flashed and Alice, in her haste to escape, didn’t notice the large ink-black shape moving in the shadows.
An artificial person didn’t attract its lethal attention, but a warm human body did. The monster moved fast, its talons failing to find purchase on the floor, skittering across the metallic floor on all fours before rising onto its back legs. It leaped on the young delivery driver as she let out a startled howl. Mae, devoid of any weapon capable of working against such a monster, froze in place. It wrapped one hand over Alice’s face and dragged her away, screaming but alive. Her fate would be far worse than death.
The group of squabbling people shouted over each other, their voices echoing in the escape pod bay. They fared no better. Their loud voices became a dinner bell.
Two Xenomorphs darted out from the kitchen of one of the abandoned noodle shops. They scrambled over overturned chairs, clambered over the counter, and vaulted among the terrified people. A woman in a white coat screamed as the subject of her research was suddenly on top of her, tearing her flesh from her like bark
off a tree. The others scattered, running on primitive instincts to escape. Except there was no safety to be found on this station. The only escape was death.
Now Minos belonged to the Xenomorphs and their needs.
An older man almost made it to Mae. His glasses fell off, his white coat flapping as he reached out towards her. She tried to grab him, but the monster was faster.
The Xeno’s inner mouth punched out, kissing the man’s forehead and breaking it as easily as an egg. His panicked screams ended in a spray of scarlet. The human blood struck her on the shoulder, mingling with her own red synthetic circulatory fluid.
The Xenomorph turned to face her. Its smooth featureless head tilted as it pulled its lips back from gleaming, sharp teeth. In the flickering half-light of the galleria the slight blue tinge of the Kuebiko infection gleamed over the creature’s carapace. Blood and spittle ran down from both its mouths. A bowie knife wouldn’t help her, but if she stayed still, it should move on. Staring it directly in the eyeless sockets for a long moment, however, Mae wasn’t completely sure of that assertion. ...
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