He walked back over to the maintenance closet where some of the larger tools were kept. There was a reinforced cabinet where the second tank of Zexum had been stored. Ben turned on the light in the small room, opened the cabinet, and screwed a small device to the top of the tank outlet. The device had a simplistic digital readout on the amount of gas inside the tank: 98%. The display wasn’t large or sophisticated enough to spell out what was inside. Instead, it gave a chemical formula that corresponded with the gas’s elemental number: CH4.
Ben had no idea what CH4 was, only that it wasn’t Zexum. He removed his instrument, checked to make sure it was working correctly, and began to reconnect it with the tank when he noticed a tiny seal around the top. It would have gone unnoticed if Ben’s intuition hadn’t warned him that something was wrong. He pulled out a headset with a high-powered light and magnifying glasses that were made to work with tiny electric fibers. It took Ben a few moments to make out exactly what he was seeing, but it came to him like a bolt of lightning out of thin air. It was an explosive release seal, the kind used for removing excess fuel tanks on orbital craft. It was tiny and clearly not meant to be destructive. Ben thought that might be standard issue on large gas tanks to get the nozzle off, but that made no sense. The nozzles were welded into place to keep the highly pressurized gas from popping them loose in the first place. The only reason for an explosive seal was to empty the tank rapidly, which made no sense to Ben.
He left the storage closet and returned to his workstation in the engineering bay. He punched in the chemical formula CH4, and the name of the gas came up on his display screen: METHANE. Ben could only think of one reason for having a tank of methane, which was highly explosive when mixed with oxygen. Unlike on planets where the atmosphere was a mixture of gases, the air in the Echo was almost pure oxygen. The second tank wasn’t more Zexum, it was a bomb.
Ben slumped into a chair, trying to figure out why Holt had loaded a bomb onto the ship. It made no sense. Methane couldn’t be used in the fusion reactor. And the explosive seal could pop and release enough gas to detonate inside the ship, perhaps even blow a huge hole in the hull. Was it possible that Holt didn’t know what it was? Somehow, Ben didn’t think so. The Confederate was smart, almost cocky about what he claimed to know, and he had brought the two tanks onto the ship by himself. But why, Ben wondered. Was it to sabotage the Echo because Ben didn’t want to join their cause? Or did he think they were going to double-cross him and turn him over to the Royal Imperium?
In the end, it didn’t matter, Ben decided. The only thing that mattered at that moment was to get the dangerous gas off the ship. The lift wouldn’t go into the cargo hold, and Ben didn’t think he could manhandle the heavy tank around the pallets of steel by himself. Instead, he went to the artificial gravity generator and dialed the gravity down manually, setting the controls so that Nance couldn’t override his changes from her station on the bridge.
He knew he had to hurry. Holt was probably still awake, and if the Confederate felt the change in gravity, he would probably guess what Ben was up to. One jump carried Ben back to the storage closet. He opened the reinforced cabinet and quickly unstrapped the tank. It was almost as tall as he was, and wide. Still, with the gravity dialed back, Ben tilted the tank toward him and heaved it up onto his shoulder. It still felt heavy and Ben could feel his spine compacting under the weight, but he could hold it up and that was all that mattered.
Ben carefully backed out of the storage closet and then hurried from the engineering bay. He was halfway across the cargo bay when Magnum called out to him.
“Ben?”
He turned and found Magnum halfway down the metal staircase that led to the cargo bay. Even more importantly, Holt appeared at the railing above.
“Don’t let him stop me!” Ben shouted, turning and continuing toward the air lock, which was located near the rear hatch of the cargo bay.
The reduced gravity made the impossible, possible. The main deck of the ship was twenty feet above the floor of the cargo bay. Normally, jumping from the overlook would be folly, but with the gravity dialed down to just ten percent of its normal force, Holt sprang into action. He vaulted over the railing and dropped to the deck easily.
With the heavy weight of the methane tank on his shoulder, Ben couldn’t move quickly. He was sweating from the effort and ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he took one careful step at a time. Holt came bounding after him and would have overtaken Ben if not for Magnum. The big man also sprang into action. He didn’t know what was going on, but of the two men, he knew who he trusted.
Holt’s attention was on Ben, and he didn’t see Magnum coming after him. They were halfway across the cargo bay when Magnum reached out with his good arm and snagged Holt’s quilted coat by the collar. He jerked the Confederate back, and Holt’s feet flew out from under him. He would have fallen hard if not for the weak gravity. Instead, Holt twisted to the side, breaking free from Magnum’s grip. He sprang to his feet as Magnum reached for him again, but Holt was ready. He slipped to the side and lashed out at the big man, hitting him hard between the shoulder and neck, right where Magnum’s wound was located.
Magnum grunted and dropped to his knees. Holt turned and bent low, meaning to lunge toward Ben, who was nearing the air lock. But Magnum wasn’t out of the fight yet. He flung himself into the Confederate. It was a reckless move, and the stitches that hadn’t torn from Holt’s blow ripped through his flesh as the two men crashed to the ground.
Ben heard the commotion but didn’t dare look back. He was almost to the air lock and couldn’t waste a second. The air lock had a lever, and Ben glanced back as he pulled it. Holt and Magnum were on the floor. The big man was doing all he could to stop the Confederate, who at that very moment kicked Magnum hard in the face. The rebel’s heavy boot smashed the big man’s nose and ripped open a gash in his face. Ben felt a sense of rage inside him, but he had a task to complete. The air lock door was open, and Ben careful set the tank inside.
“Stop, you fool!” Holt shouted.
Ben ignored him and shoved the lever back into place. The air lock door slid shut just as Holt was jumping for Ben. There was just enough time, and Ben hit the release that cycled the air lock. There was a swoosh of air, then the outer door opened. Holt grabbed Ben by his shirt and flung him away. But it was too late, the tank had been sucked from the room and was spinning away from the ship.
Ben toppled to the floor, just as Kim appeared at the railing. She shouted for Ben to look out as Holt turned toward him with a look of furious rage on his face. He dove for Ben, who was fumbling with his pocket. The Confederate crashed into Ben, knocking the wind out of the young engineer’s lungs. Holt raised himself up while still pinning Ben to the floor. He pulled back one arm and was about to drive a fist hard into Ben’s face, but the younger man was slightly faster. He pulled a socket wrench from his pocket and bashed Holt across the side of his head. The Confederate went down and Ben scrambled free.
“What’s going on?” Nance said, her voice booming over the ship’s speakers.
Magnum was on his feet but looked shaky. Ben felt a thrill of victory but also a stab of anger as he looked down at Holt. The man had been ready to kill them all, that much was clear. In fact, Ben thought to himself, it was a miracle that he hadn’t blown the cap on the methane gas in their narrow escape from the Fleet in the Torrent system. Ben pointed the wrench at Holt, who was bleeding from a gash on the side of his head.
“He was planning to kill us,” Ben said. “Help me tie him up.”
Chapter 34
Kim had hurried down to the cargo bay, retrieved plastic wiring tie downs, which Ben used to secure Holt, then helped Magnum back to the sick bay. Ben carried the unconscious Confederate up the stairs and into the infirmary, thanks in no small part to the reduced gravity, and slung him into a chair. They saw to Magnum first, using bio-glue to close his wound back up. His clothes were once more coated in blood. Kim rebandaged the wound and helped the big m
an get comfortable. His nose was broken and the gash in his cheek would scar, but he would live. Once his wounds were cleaned and the bleeding stopped, they turned to Holt, who was still unconscious.
Ben had to shave the thick hair around the wound just to be able to see it. They irrigated the gash and sealed it with bio-glue, although Ben hated to use it on the man.
“Alright,” Kim said, washing the blood from her hands. “You want to tell us what is going on?”
“We should wait until Nance is here,” Ben said.
“I’m listening,” Nance said over the speaker system from her place on the bridge.
“Alright,” Ben said. “I finished the repairs and remembered I needed to check the other tank of Zexum. We were told we had two tanks of gas, but I wanted to be certain, and I’m glad I did.”
“It wasn’t Zexum in the second tank?” Kim asked.
“No, it was full of methane,” Ben said.
“What? Why would they bring methane onboard?” Kim asked.
“Methane mixed with oxygen is highly explosive,” Nance said in a calm voice.
“That’s right,” Ben said. “And the tank had a blast ring around the nozzle. I’m not sure how it would have been triggered, but it was made to blow off the nozzle and vent the gas rapidly.”
“So it was a bomb,” Kim said as Holt began to come around.
“Exactly,” Ben said. “Holt brought a bomb onto our ship.”
“Why?” Nance asked.
“We’ll have to ask him,” Ben said.
“Hey!” Kim shouted in his face. “Why’d you bring a bomb on our ship?”
“What?” Holt asked, sounding confused.
“The tank of methane, you bastard,” Kim snarled, grabbing the collar of his coat and shaking him. “We know all about it.”
“I don’t know...” his voice trailed off.
Kim slapped him hard and his eyes opened. The fury in them was impossible to miss.
“Hurts, huh?” Kim said with a grin.
“What the hell are you doing?” Holt said in a savage tone.
“We’re going to find out what you’re up to,” Ben said. “Why’d you bring methane onto our ship?”
“I didn’t bring methane. That was Zexum, you fool,” Holt said.
“No, it was methane, I checked it,” Ben said.
“We alter the readings so that if we’re caught with it, we won’t be breaking the law,” Holt insisted.
“The tank said Zexum,” Kim said. “It was printed right on the side.”
Ben felt a stab of fear. Was it possible that Holt was telling the truth, Ben wondered. Had he thrown an entire tank of Zexum out the air lock for no reason?
“Plausible deniability,” Holt said. “If we get caught, we say we thought it was methane, but the tests show it’s something else. Being stupid isn’t a crime. Having Zexum without a license is.”
“So, it was just a scam,” Kim said.
Ben’s fears were building. What had he done?”
“Then why,” Kim went on, “did it have an explosive ring around the nozzle?”
“What?” Holt said.
There was just the slightest hesitation in his reply. It could have just been that his throat was irritated or that his mouth was dry, but Ben’s self-doubt disappeared.
“There was a ring around the nozzle,” Ben said. “And explosive used to vent the gas. No one in their right mind would put such a device around a ring of Zexum.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Holt said angrily. “But no one would put an explosive ring around the nozzle of a tank containing methane either. You’ve all lost your minds.”
“No,” Ben said. “I found it, and I was right. You brought that tank onboard just in case you decided you couldn’t trust us.”
“Why would I do that?” Holt said. “If you die, I die.”
“Better than being captured by the Royal Imperium,” Kim said. “You said so yourself.”
“And you’re no coward,” Ben said. “But you would do anything to protect the Confederacy, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course I would, that’s no crime. But I didn’t bring a tank of methane on this ship.”
“So when we search your cabin,” Kim said. “We won’t find a detonator?”
“It’s probably in his coat,” Ben said.
“Hey, you can’t do that,” Holt snarled as Ben started searching the man’s pockets.
“It’s really a genius plan,” Kim said. “You sneak down to the escape pod. Blow the nozzle on the gas, which gives you just enough time to get away before the explosion rips a gaping hole in the hull and kills everyone onboard.”
“You’re out of your mind,” Holt replied. He was so angry he was practically shouting.
“Oh yeah?” Ben said. “So what made you hurtle the railing and charge after me like that?”
“That gas is worth thousands of credits, you fool,” Holt snarled.
“Well, you seemed crazy desperate to stop Ben when you could have used your words,” Kim replied, as if speaking to a preschooler. “Just look at what you did to Magnum. You’re lucky, actually. If he hadn’t been wounded he probably would have snapped your neck and saved us all a lot of trouble. Ben could have thrown you out the air lock with your tank of methane.”
“You’re all insane,” Hold said.
Ben had collected several items. Two small knives, a few coins, an old-fashioned key, and what looked like a remote. It was small, with just a single button on it.
“Looks like a remote detonator to me,” Ben said.
“That’s an electric starter for my glider back home,” Holt said.
“Too bad we can’t test it and see,” Kim said.
“We can,” Nancy said. “Join me on the bridge.”
Ben had Holt’s hands bound tightly behind his back. They forced him onto his feet and marched him to the bridge. On the main display screens was a magnified view of the Zexum tank slowly spinning through space.
“Try the detonator,” Nancy said. “We’re probably still in range.”
“Won’t it explode?” Kim asked. “How far away is it?”
“It won’t ignite,” Nance said. “Methane is combustible with oxygen. It won’t do anything in space, but we should be able to see the nozzle shoot off.
Ben had another tremor of doubt. He told himself that if nothing happened it still didn’t prove that he had been wrong. The tank could be out of range.
“Let me do it,” Kim said, reaching for the device.
Ben let her take it and watched the screen, barely breathing.
“Three, two, one,” Kim counted down. “Blastoff!”
She pressed the button and nothing happened, for a second. But then the nozzle shot off, like the cork out of a bottle of champagne.
“Would you look at that,” Kim said, bending low beside Holt’s blood-encrusted ear. “It worked.”
Ben felt a sense of relief. Partly because he had been right about Holt and the gas, but also because the dangerous gas was safely off the Echo.
“What should we do with him?” Nance asked.
“The air lock gets my vote,” Kim said. “Send him out with the rest of the garbage.”
“We can’t do that,” Ben said. “He’s our only connection to the Confederate forces.”
“So what?” Kim said. “They’re all a bunch of lying, double-crossing traitors. What do we need them for? We have fuel, and we have cargo to trade.”
“But we don’t have a way to get more gas or any connections to move the steel alloy. And if we get caught with it by the Royal Imperium, we’re dead. We need them, as distasteful as that is.”
Kim was angry. She didn’t like Ben’s reasoning, and neither did he, but she knew it was true. They were operating outside the law, completely off the radar of the Royal Imperium’s tightly controlled government. If there were places that weren’t completely under the Imperium’s fist, the Confederates already had their hooks in it. Being a complet
ely neutral party wasn’t an option, not until they had a few connections of their own.
“So what, then?” Kim asked. “We take him back to his people and show them we’re not fools?”
“Something like that,” Ben said.
“I don’t trust him,” Nancy said.
“Me neither,” Magnum added.
“We don’t have to trust him,” Ben said. “We’ll keep him secured so he doesn’t have a chance to betray us again.”
“I didn’t betray anyone,” Holt said, sounding a little less angry. “The tank is standard procedure. I have to have a way to ensure that you aren’t Imperium spies.”
“And doing your dirty work doesn’t prove that?” Kim asked.
“Not completely, no,” Holt said. “In fact, I’m beginning to wonder about you four with your fancy old ship and the way you just manage to stay one step ahead of the Fleet.”
“That’s because we’re good,” Kim said.
“Or the Security Force missed on purpose,” Holt said. “The Fleet did clear the way for the ship to make hyperspace.”
“We’re not with the Fleet,” Ben said. “We just salvaged enough goods to get this ship flying again. We even got most of the furniture and equipment onboard by taking what we could from the ruined ships around Torrent.”
“So you say,” Holt said. “That doesn’t make me trust you.”
“At least we didn’t try to kill you,” Kim said. “And we could have.”
“I heard,” Holt said. “You need me. Is that because you need an in with the Confederacy?”
“We aren’t traitors,” Ben said. “We’re just looking to make a life out here.”
“Fine, but how am I supposed to trust that? You’re no different than me.”
“We’re way different,” Kim said.
“Let’s hold him on the bridge,” Ben said. “That way someone can always keep an eye on him.”
“Works for me,” Kim said. “I’ll take first watch. The rest of you can get some sleep.”
“I wouldn’t argue with that,” Ben said.
Kestrel Class (Kestrel Class Saga Book 1) Page 17
