Surviving the Theseus

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Epilogue

About Randy Dean Noble

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Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Regina

Regina Valensky had been called killer, murderer, widow maker, assassin, slayer, butcher, heartless monster, and worse. But that didn’t bother her. She’d been a Search Out and Destroy officer – a SOAD – for so long, those accusations no longer fazed her.

She walked down a wide open corridor, watching people excitedly go about their vacations. The cheese factor was not without its charm, but it quickly became too much, too gaudy, too in your face. Regardless of the business touting its bounty – food and drink, souvenirs, gambling, whatever – each place suffused her eyes with a kaleidoscope of lights from their storefronts.

With her superiors forcing her to go on vacation, she’d decided upon the space cruise ship, Pyramid One. What better place could there be to study people, their mannerisms, interactions, and idiosyncrasies that made everyone so unique and so damn hard to understand? And understand she must, or die she would. Hunting the worst of the worst required blending in, becoming what she needed to be in order to get closer to her goal: the kill.

She understood the decision of the powers that be, with her peers getting stabbed, shot, and hung. Why chance the decimation of the entire SOAD department? It was her nature to observe others, so although technically on vacation, she would be soaking in all the various behaviors.

As she walked, her cold glare almost never failed to make someone uncomfortable, causing them to look any other way but at her. It brought a smile to her face.

As Regina walked past bars and restaurants with names like, Pyramid Burgers, The Pyramid Palace, King Tut’s, she kept alert. Each restaurant’s flashy facade had some sort of garish adornment. She didn’t know how many gigantic pyramids, golden pharaohs, and sphinxes she could handle.

People never ceased to amaze and baffle. Families crowded the hallway with children shouting, excited, looking forward to events to come and talking endlessly about events passed. Parents smiled, frowned, yelled, laughed, rolled their eyes, or ignored their children altogether.

Then there were couples, some amiable, others bickering over the most ridiculous of things that no one with any sort of reason would be offended by. Why would anyone care if their significant other looked – not gawked, not leered – at a person of the opposite sex? And to the point of calling their mate a loser, a piece of shit, or saying that they suck? Insecurities abound and trump common sense, for what is only a natural inclination to observe others—whether the desire be passing intrigue, lust, curiosity, whatever—it didn’t matter.

But none of those people interested Regina.

The loners got most of her attention, especially the ones who stared at her or anyone for longer than what she deemed reasonable. She’d seen the behavior so many times, and sometimes it was only a daydreamer unintentionally looking at what appeared to be a specific person. Other times, someone was looking for a mark, someone to steal from, or worse… hurt. Nothing sinister caught Regina’s eye, which she was glad for. She wanted to eat.

Finally, near the end of the cavalcade of restaurants, she found a lounge called The Club. A large golf club decorated the entrance, something a giant would swing. She stopped, her black running shoes squeaking on the tile floor, and then walked in.

Inside the bar, Regina was reminded of something she’d seen in a museum once: Tube Televisions. They were everywhere, of varying sizes, showing games of golf, football, baseball, hockey, soccer, and basketball. Classic sporting events that survived the test of time, now with modern equipment but not much different than what was in the museum.

She walked by several pool tables, a row of beeping, screeching video game machines, and headed toward the bar—an island of stools, glasses, and liquor bottles. Regina sat down.

After ordering a steak, a baked potato, and a beer, she found a booth in the back corner.

Hello, Miss.

Regina looked up to see a short, middle-aged man. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a large bump on his hook nose. She frowned. You talking to me?

Sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you might let me buy you a drink, he said.

Regina tried making eye contact, because it said so much to her. But his focus on her breasts said even more. I don’t think so.

The man sat down across from her anyway. I’m Roy.

Regina scrunched her face, bemused. She couldn’t believe his audacity. Look, Roy, I just want to be alone. A strange vibe emanated from him. She couldn’t pinpoint anything specific, other than he felt wrong.

Regardless of what she was doing, or where she was doing it, she always carried her weapon. She was used to wearing it in a holster around her shoulders, but didn’t want strange looks from people if she wore her trench coat. Instead, she carried the gun in a holster on her leg. She’d rather have a large bulge around her calf than the inevitable questions she’d get wearing a trench coat in the middle of a cruise spaceship.

She doubted the weapon would be necessary, but she shifted her right arm just in case she needed to quickly grab it.

A beautiful woman like yourself shouldn’t be all alone, Roy said.

Nice one, Roy. Cheesy, but nice. Look, I’m trying to be considerate, but you really need to go away now. I won’t ask again.

Roy stared at her silently for a few moments, and then he stood up. Sorry to bother you. I had to try.

The sound of glass smashing behind her caused Regina to turn around. She watched as a waitress scrambled to catch her tray as it crashed to the ground. What the hell is wrong with you? she hollered, as a young male patron shrugged his shoulders.

When Regina turned back around, Roy was gone.

She finished her beer just as a waiter brought her food. The steak melted in her mouth, juicy, delicious, and the baked potato was not as good but good enough as she drowned it in butter. When she was done, she ordered one more beer.

Chapter 2

The Chase

A small, diamond-shaped ship with a blue-steel shine sped through the black void of space, chasing another ship just like it. Behind them were three more in close pursuit.

Are they stupid, or is it just me? asked Cindy Everette.

They’re stupid, all right, replied Michael Steen, steering the ship chasing the one in the lead.

The cockpit seated four, and a rear holding area fit eight, but Cindy and Michael were the only two on their ship.

They were both strapped in with shoulder harnesses; Michael with one hand on a large joystick-like yoke controlling the ship, and his other on a small gray handle controlling the speed. Both the yoke and throttle were holographic; the only way they became tangible was with the black gloves he wore that were covered in small, clear beads.

Wearing her own set of special black gloves, Cindy checked a three-dimensional navigational screen, scanning the area of space within their vicinity.

She looked up as the runner took a hard left. Michael had no problem following every movement it made – every twist and turn was no match for his experience as a pilot.

All the other ships followed suit, giving him a slight lead.

I betcha anything they’re kids, and probably SPARS kids, Cindy said. SPARS—the Space Patrol and Rescue Squad—were what Cindy and Michael were, as well as their buddies behind them.

Another left turn.

It baffled Michael how anybody thought they could lose someone in space. There was nowhere to hide. You’re probably right, he said. Although it wouldn’t be hard for someone to find out how to access one of our ships, including the controls. It’s posted all over the Universal Network.

Michael—young at the age of twenty-eight to have the SPARS rank that most don’t see until they are at least thirty-five—pissed off other SPARS, or at least those who didn’t know him. They thought of him as an ass kisser, but all it took was a crap-load of time on duty and dedication. He commanded a 1D ranking, just three positions away from the highest rank of 1A.

A voice spoke up in Michael’s ear. It was his leader, George Pratt. Mike, are you gonna just follow him around all night, or are you gonna take some fucking initiative? Do something soon, or I’ll pull out in front of you.

He didn’t actually know what he was waiting for. Truthfully, he was bored and had nothing better to do. They’d all been cooped up for days, running the same drills over and over again, getting ready for security on the Planetary Games. This was their first real chance to get out and let loose. Well, most of the others wouldn’t call it that, but Michael would.

All of the SPARS wore the same gear, including what looked like a pair of round-rimmed glasses, speakers in the handles, a microphone in the front band, voice-activated communication controls, and a camera—too small to see— recording everything.

The boss man has spoken, Michael said to Cindy, even though he knew she got the same message.

George spoke up again. Ahh, Mike… I can still hear you.

Michael smiled. He was well aware of the eight-second delay before the communication channel cut off and would then have to be re-initiated. A Comm Off command would’ve cut off communication immediately, but George never gave it.

The runner pulled up and over them. Michael followed.

The chase offered so little challenge that Michael looked down at his olive green fatigues, making sure there were no food stains.

Let’s give these guys a Flat Fanny, Michael said.

You got it, boss man, Cindy said. She was the lowest ranked person in the group, at a 9, yet she was stronger than others with higher ranks by Michael’s standards.

Cindy touched a floating icon of a gun on the navigation screen. A weapons information screen came up with two options: short range and long range. Cindy touched short range. Now the screen displayed a three-dimensional rotating image that looked like a flat bullet, with a listing of five classes beside it from A to E. Cindy clicked on Class C.

A radar-like screen replaced weapons, showing all of the SPARS ships and the runner. She touched the runner and received a confirmation message: Target acquired. What area do you want to target? The words hovered above the panel in her three-dimensional display. Several options flashed onto the screen next, and Cindy picked Engines. A final confirmation came up: Locked and loaded. Fire? YES NO

Cindy chose Yes.

Class C Flat Fanny on its way, she said.

Michael continued to match every move the runner made.

Chapter 3

Where is Everyone?

The next morning, Regina woke up in a total fog. She didn’t remember going back to her room, or where she’d put her gun… or anything after the second beer.

She was still wearing her jeans and t-shirt from the night before. Twelve hours went by and she had no memory of the events that had passed.

Showering took some of the fog away, and so did donning fresh clothes. She knew she didn’t get pissed on two beers, so Roy was a possible suspect at the moment. Maybe a failed attempt at date rape. He definitely never got under her clothes, but her skin crawled nonetheless at the thought.

She looked for her primary weapon everywhere. It was gone.

What the hell happened?

When Regina stepped out into the hallway, not a person was stirring anywhere, not even a single cruise employee. No noise. Deathly quiet. Odd. Very odd. Since boarding the vessel two days ago it had always been bustling with activity, no matter the time of day or night.

Regina walked cautiously down a long corridor on the fourth passenger level. The only sign of any activity, strange as it was, were piles and piles of clothing strewn about on the carpeted floor, as if everyone on board had gone on a naked tirade.

Some of the passenger room doors were open. Regina couldn’t understand it. She’d experienced many strange things in her life, but nothing like this.

The hallway was wide and rounded, like a tunnel. It glowed with a dull light, which under normal circumstances Regina found very soothing. The night before, on her walk to find something to eat, the tunnel walls were alive with images of forests and wildlife. Now she felt them closing in on her, the comforting nature images gone, and just a creepy hallway before her.

Regina continued on, listening for any sounds. She did not stop at any of the open doorways, only quickly glanced in to see if anyone was around.

She was alone, but couldn’t get rid of the feeling that she was being watched. A nagging feeling that would not go away.

Regina came across the biggest pile of clothes she’d seen yet as she walked by a T-section of a hallway – white pants, shorts, t-shirts, boots, shoes, socks, underwear, and hats were scattered everywhere.

When she looked down the hallway perpendicular to the one she came from, she saw more clothing. She wanted to go left, to get to the center part of the level where there was transport to either end of the ship via an automatic train. But Regina decided to keep going straight.

She hated not knowing what happened. Where was everyone?

She figured she was at least midway across the ship now, making it over half a mile, going forward toward the cockpit.

A deep orange glow emanated from under a door in front of her, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of dread. Eyes wide, body tense, she felt the need to get away from the light—that it would harm her somehow if it touched her.

Regina pulled her secondary weapon, a silver-plated 45-caliber handgun with a nice little bonus: a high voltage and high amp current that would most likely kill you if the bullet didn’t.

Regina slowly walked toward the door, her gun in front of her. She wondered what waited on the other side, stirring up feelings she hadn’t felt since her rookie year as a patrol cop in a city full of drug addicts, rapists, and murderers.

Cursing herself for being a coward, Regina walked past the door, never taking her eyes from the bottom where she saw the orange flash. As she walked by, she turned and inched backward, staring, as the mysterious glow filled the hallway.

Chapter 4

Shenanigans

On the ship behind Michael sat George Pratt, the commander with a rank of 1B, and Travis Deckstill with a rank of 4.

George was tall and heavyset, in his early sixties, with a gray crew-cut and a kind-looking face. He came across as a big teddy bear the first time Travis met him. Travis, twenty years younger than George, was short and in shape, with blonde hair and an infectious smile.

Travis did not get intimidated easily – at least he liked to think so – but when he heard George talk for the first time, with his raspy, almost angry voice that commanded attention, he did a double-take. George just sounded tough. That was the easiest way for Travis to describe it.

Comm Set. As soon as George spoke, the communications channel on his and everyone else’s eyeglasses in the group opened up. Mike, before you try it, Travis is going to attempt to contact them again. George looked over at Travis, who smiled back at George.

Travis leaned over the console and touched the screen to open a channel with the runner ship. Ahhh, this one goes out to all those who forgot to put their brains back in their head after a night of shenanigans. This is your last warning. Cease and desist or we’ll blow you up. Oh yes, we will. Travis closed the channel as George looked over at him with a frown and narrowed eyes.

The runner did not stop. It veered every which way, zigzagging erratically through space.

Chapter 5

The Kill Zone

Regina turned and ran away from the orange light. The eerie glow diminished in less than a second.

Her heart pounded. She’d never felt more threatened in all her life, like the light itself would attack her, like it had a consciousness of hatred and malice so deep, one would not survive its wrath if one iota of it made contact. It felt like something was there, yet nothing was, nothing visible at least.

She chanced a glance back, seeing nothing. She kept running and took a hard left into a stairwell, grabbing the edge of the open