Shadows of Mars (Broken Stars Book 1) I.O. Adler (read people like a book TXT) 📖

had been lacking. It would be easy with a boost, or perhaps they could find something to use as a step stool.

Why would the Cordice make the hatch access so awkward?

Jenna landed next to her.

They were in a ring. Much like the harvester, the upward curve was a gentle slope running either direction. Visible hatchways stood to either side. A panel on a wall sat open. Inside were bundles of wire. Some appeared to have melted.

Strange.

Carmen picked a direction and went to the first door. It opened by automatic sensor. The room beyond had dozens of consoles and cabinets. Metal dishes were stacked on every inch of the counters and a few were scattered on the floor. Many of the cabinets had open sliding doors and stood empty.

With Jenna on her heels they went from room to room. The fermented smell clung to the air throughout the ship. They found more storage rooms in various states of disarray, some holding much larger cube containers that had no clear mechanism for opening. One half-open portal led to a room that featured large opaque tanks of foamy liquid.

Jenna stopped her. “What if the door slides shut and we can’t open it?”

Carmen hesitated. “You’re right. The hallway doors open automatically and I don’t see any buttons. Let’s keep going.”

Next door they found banks of boxes made of gray metal. They were covered in brown fuzz that ran down to the floor and grew in conjoined circles. The musty odor was stronger. The boxes radiated heat and a slight hum emanated from them. Machines? They had no visible controls.

The fuzzy growth extended into the hallway and led to the next pair of doors, which were across the hall from each other.

They were careful not to step in any. Carmen went through the door to her right.

Beyond lay the largest chamber they had seen. It ran to the left and curved almost out of sight. Cylinders stacked five high had been placed on racks. More of the machines were inserted between each stack. The fuzz grew everywhere in thick mats that covered everything. The color of the moss varied between orange and dark mustard.

“Is that rust?” Jenna asked.

“I don’t think so.”

She found herself wanting a face mask or space suit. What were they breathing? She Who Waits had said the air was safe, but had she considered whatever mold spores were no doubt in the air?

One of the cylinders nearby had its cover off. It was overflowing with the moldy growths. But there was something solid with straight lines beneath the cover. Carmen navigated the pools of fungus. Her sister said something in a worried tone but Carmen didn’t turn in time to read her lips.

“I said be careful,” Jenna said.

“I just want to take a better look.”

She pushed the cover away and let it clatter behind the rack. What looked like a metal skeleton of a bot like the ones on board the harvester lay within the cylinder. It had an oval head and four legs and reminded her of a dog. Sections of dark metal jutted from a pool of mold.

“The smell,” Jenna said. “It’s like being inside a brewery. So what is that thing?”

“I don’t know. Maybe this is how they store their tech. It’s just so…messy. She Who Waits might have contacted the caretaker by now. We should get back.”

Something in the corner near the door shifted. A form was hunched against the wall next to one of the machine boxes. It shivered.

She edged closer for a better look. Realized she was holding her breath.

Like the bot in the cylinder it had four legs and sat on its haunches with its head bowed and pressed against the box. It began to gently thump its head.

“Hello? I’m Carmen. This is Jenna. We’re here to return—”

The bot reared its head back and slammed it against the box, leaving a dimple in the center.

Carmen cried out. But the thing had grown still. It looked bulkier than the metal frame lying in the cylinder. But then Carmen realized its torso was covered in the same brown moss that was growing everywhere, only slicked down.

The bot chirped. The single note was piercing and made her flinch. The sound wasn’t far off from what a swooping hummingbird might make if it was hooked up to an amplifier.

Her heart raced. “Can you hear me?”

It began to tremble again. It let out another chirp and grew still.

“Are you the caretaker?”

The head turned almost completely around. A line of red illuminated on its face. Carmen felt the thing staring.

Chirp!

Carmen held up her hands. Kept her head partially bowed. Thought “I’m a friend” over and over as if the thing might hear her thoughts. Meanwhile Jenna was pleading with her. Something about getting out of there. But all their efforts had culminated in this moment.

Carmen couldn’t run away just because she was scared. “I’m from Earth. I’m a human like Sylvia Vincent and Hamish Townes. We have your harvester and wish to return it.”

The next chirp was loud enough to hurt her ears. The staccato burst rang in her head. The thing quavered as it rose on its legs. A bed of moss growing against the wall detached and it was dragging one of its forward limbs, the metal appearing to be bent.

“She Who Waits is with us. You sent her—”

It lunged. As it came at her it swiped with its forelimb but the lame arm didn’t cooperate. It missed Carmen by inches as she scrambled back. She collided with Jenna, who grabbed her and pulled her into the hallway.

The thing trotted to the portal, a wobbly awkward gait on three limbs. Carmen and Jenna ran. Carmen fought to keep her feet under her as she pressed her sister ahead of her.