Short Story Snippet: Marker

Marker by Geoffrey Baxter

Acrid smoke hung in the cold, sterile air as bright green blood began to form rivulets on the diamond plate floor. Her aim was true and this Raven would tell no tales. As the adrenaline began to wear off, she felt the shakes on the edge of her consciousness. She holstered her pistol and looked the Raven over. She almost retched at the smell. The smallish form, black as the deep, lay splayed out on the deck. There were no signs of life.

The ringing in her ears and the mental haze overpowered her radio. She finally realized that the bridge was trying to reach her. She composed herself and reported in. "Sizemore here. Raven's down and out."

"Good job, Randi. We're towing in the ship now," responded the Captain. "Let's wake everyone up. Break out the scanners."

"Aye, sir." Lance Corporal Randi Sizemore shook her head in vain. The ringing would be there for a few days. She sighed. They would be scanning the whole exterior of the ship, not an easy operation, and dangerous. She cursed. Randi got out a tarp, a mop and a bucket from a closet down the hall as the Captain opened a ship-wide channel.

"Attention all passengers and personnel, attention all passengers and personnel: We have a matter that requires your urgent attention. Please join me in the mess in five minutes. Repeat: the presence of all passengers and personnel is required in the mess in five minutes."

Randi placed the tarp near the body and then attached a gravlift to the Raven's sleek, jet black armor. She hoisted the body gently and placed it on the tarp, then went about the business of cleaning up.

 

The Captain, an imposing figure in both girth and vocal presence, continued his briefing. "We have no more ships on long or short range scanners, but we have no clue how that Raven found us. We have reviewed all the psy evaluations in our records and everyone here is ostensibly clean," explained the Captain. "Corporal Sizemore did an admirable job of plugging the Raven before it could get to any of you. Many of you owe her your lives."

 

Randi stared at the floor, the praise flushing her cheeks. Any other would have done the same. That Raven could have turned the ship into a derelict within minutes. Lucky, though: just happened to phase in right next to her. Scared the hell out of her, too. Randi let the moment of praise pass then returned her attention to the passengers.

"We have the Raven's ship in our cargo hold now and we will be scanning its comm logs to see if we can expect any further company. I hope we won't." The Captain paused and sighed. "The question now is, as we all know, what do we do now?" The Captain made eye contact with a few different people around the mess, his inquiry unanswered. Randi did the same. She could see no sign of subterfuge or shame, only fear.

The Captain continued. "The way I see it, we have a few options: first we have to make an assumption. Either we have a marker, or we don't. If we don't, we were hella unlucky, and we can probably continue our present course unmolested." The Captain let the loaded silence marinate in the recycled air.

A small hand went up at the back of the mess. It was 8-year-old Jony Firth, affectionately known as little Jony to the longtime crew, accompanied by his parents. They traveled regularly, Mr. Firth being an aide to Parliament, and they were all familiar with the risks of space travel. "Yes, little Jony?"

"Captain, Sir, what if we do have a marker?"

The Captain hesitated for a moment. "Well, little Jony, then we have a decision to make: either we deal with the marker, or we don't. With the distance that remains between us and our destination, I would prefer the former option, at least for now."

Little Jony's mother decided it was her turn to opine. "Well, that will depend. What if we've been tagged? What if—"

"There are a lot of what ifs, Ms. Firth, and I've got them all rattling around in my head, and in the end, I make the decisions on this boat," the Captain interrupted. "Your concerns are appreciated. Anyone else have a comment, or perhaps a confession?” The Captain’s eyes grew hard, his anger burning just below the surface. “No? Very well, then. You all know the laws. I am going to assume the worst and hope for the best. Corporal Sizemore?"

"Yes Sir, Captain?"

"Take one of the work-trippers with you and scan the ship." The Captain made one more critical, withering sweep of those assembled. Then he left the mess in a huff. The passengers began to file out, muttering amongst themselves. Randi had dealt with Ravens (and markers) before, but she shared their fear. Being a Survivor only helped her to hide it much better than they did.

Randi noticed a young blond woman who looked to be in her last trimester. A pair of men, one skinny, the other quite large, both appearing to be in their twenties, helped her out of the mess, whispering amongst themselves. All three of them had boarded during their last stop on the planet Trendhatan. Randi made a mental note to review their files after she finished sweeping the ship.

A trio of work-trippers remained behind. They were all young, in their late teens, working their way across space. They had been reliable thus far. They knew there would be a bonus.

"Volunteer?"

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--Geoff