Galaxia

by Kevin McLaughlin

  “Dad never did like needles,” Carmen explained. “Who’s next?”

  Eight hands went up.

  Carmen looked over at Pierce, who still wasn’t moving from where he hung. He was watching the whole scene dispassionately. The chill on his face unnerved her. “Pierce? Do you want dibs on the next dose?” she asked. She wanted him sedated ASAP. He scared her more than these kids ever could.

  “No, a good leader takes care of his men first,” Pierce said. “Go on.”

  She ground her teeth together. She’d have to move fast. No telling how long before Pat or her father went under from the sedative. She needed to get to all nine of them before that happened.

  Carmen started in. The soldiers had already formed a line, which helped. Being in zero gravity didn’t. It simply took her longer to move around from one person to the next. Sweat was beading on her brow by the time she reached the last man. How much time did she have left?

  He was tall, and heavily muscled. It took her less than a moment to find his bicep – it was hard to miss. But she had to be careful to avoid the patch on the sleeve of his uniform. She brought the injector up, aware as she had been this whole time of Pierce keeping a watchful eye on her.

  “Hey, what’s wrong with that guy?” asked the man she was about to inject.

  Carmen looked up, knowing what he was talking about even before she saw. Pat was floating in the air, his head lolling off to one side, clearly unconscious. Next to him, her father likewise drifted in sleep. She looked up at the man’s face, seeing the storm clouds of anger building there as he realized if not what she’d done, at least that something was very wrong.

  She stabbed home the injector, pumping a dose of the medicine into the man’s arm before he could react.

  “Ow!” he said, his hand reaching out to his arm out of reflex.

  “It must be the virus,” Carmen lied, hoping she’d be believed. “Quick, help me get them to the infirmary!”

  Pierce pushed off with a grunt, floating to where her father hung suspended in the air. Carmen held her breath as he took a pulse and then lifted an eyelid. Pierce knew what to look for. Damn it!

  “You’ve drugged them!” he roared.

  “Sir, I don’t feel so…good,” one of the soldiers said.

  Carmen looked around. Two of the soldiers were already lightly snoring. The one speaking joined them a moment later. The rest stared at her in horror.

  “It is a cure. It’s also a sedative. Just so you’ll rest,” she told them. “You’ll be fine.” She hoped that was true. Some of them were pretty advanced in the disease. Better to tell them something hopeful that to have them terrified as the drug slowly dulled their senses.

  Pierce was still unimpeded, though. “You bitch!” he said, his face mottled red.

  Time to get the hell out of here! She pushed off hard, jetting back toward the main hold even as Pierce struggled to chase after her. He had nothing solid to push against. Carmen caught a glimpse of him struggling his way toward the wall as she shot away.

  Carmen was moving fast – way more quickly than she really thought was safe. She shot into the cargo hold and only narrowly missed the first row of crates. She twisted, and dodged the next set, zipping between two rows of the big containers. But then another set loomed directly in front of her. She could see them in her path, but there was nothing she could do to slow down. There wasn’t anything in reach that she could grab. She tried to flip around, so her head wouldn’t crack into the cases, and managed to get about halfway through the turn before she smashed into the storage units with her left shoulder.

  All the air went out of her lungs in a whoosh, not even leaving enough for a shout of pain. She bit the inside of her cheek, copper flavor filling her mouth. But worst, her whole side hurt. She didn’t think she’d broken anything – quite – but her shoulder, arm, ribs, and hip on her left side hurt worst than she’d ever hurt before.

  For a moment she hung there, barely able to move. She reached out her right hand to grab on to the crate she’d collided with so that she didn’t drift away, but that was all the movement she could manage. Instead, she focused on breathing, Every breath was painful, every inhalation like fire lancing into her side.

  “I’ll kill you,” Pierce said, from somewhere below her. She jolted at the sound. He was close, and must be coming closer. He might be moving toward the front of the ship more slowly than she had, but he’d catch her soon enough if she didn’t move.

  If he was following her, at least he wasn’t hurting Pat or her father. If she could draw him away… But there were only so many places on the shuttle to run. She needed help.

  Her radio chirped, and Fred’s voice came out of it. “You OK out there?” he asked.

  “Yes!” Carmen gasped. She’d all but forgotten Fred in her rush to get away. “Any luck on the air system?”

  “Nope. But all those soldiers are out like a light. Need me to come help you?”

  “Yes, please!” Carmen said. Then she paused. The biggest threat wasn’t Pierce. It was that the ship would follow Patrick’s course and fly off into deep space. “Wait. Can you wake up Pat?”

  “How?”

  “There must be a first aid kit in engineering. Look for some epi-pens.”

  “Will that work?”

  She hoped it would. Adrenaline to counteract the sedative should work. “Yes.”

  There was only one place on the ship that she thought she might be able to lock herself in. She’d only visited the cockpit a few times, but didn’t airplanes have a lock on the cockpit, to keep people away from the pilot? Maybe the shuttle had the same feature, since it too was designed to carry crew and passengers. It was the only thing she could think of, the only place which might have a lock on it. Besides, maybe she could shut off the jamming from the cockpit and Jacob could guide the shuttle in remotely.

  It was slower going than she wanted. Her left arm wasn’t working well – every time she bumped it against something it flared with pain again. So she was stuck pulling herself forward from handrail to handrail with just her right hand. She exited the cargo area and shut the door behind her. The cafeteria space beyond looked pretty much the same as it had the first time she’d seen it. Carmen found herself wishing she had a gun, or something that would let her blow up the control panel on the door so that she couldn’t be followed. Pierce had to be right behind her.

  She kicked off hard, aiming herself at the far side doorway. It was open – the corridor beyond seemed small and dimly illuminated from here. Carmen remembered Pat helping her glide across the room on her first visit here, and prayed he was OK. All Pierce’s men should be out by now. It was just him she had to deal with now.

  “I see you,” Pierce called out in a sing-song voice. Carmen looked over her shoulder and saw him steadily making his way up toward her, moving hand over hand along the rails. Her gut clenched when she saw the look on his face.

  No time to waste. She aimed her body as best she could at the far side, trying to ignore how small the open corridor seemed from here. Then she tucked her legs up underneath her and pushed off hard, launching herself out into open space.

  She was flying. It was exhilarating – and terrifying. She had nothing to hold on to, out here. There was nothing to slow her movement. She might as well be falling toward the ground on Earth, and for a terrible moment her brain started to react as if that was what was happening. Adrenaline smashed into her system as her body reacted to what felt like a fall. With a struggle she re-oriented herself, using force of will to convince her mind that she was jumping up instead of falling down. It wasn’t easy, and she panted with the effort of holding panic at bay. The far wall loomed closer and closer.

  A growling sound from below her got Carmen’s attention. Pierce had made the cafeteria, and jumped across to follow her. He had pushed off even harder than she had dared to, and was gaining on her! She held her breath, hoping that she could evade him long enough to get into the cockpit.

  She sho
t through the doorway, still moving at a good clip. A moment later, he slammed into the edge of the doorway with a bang and a curse. Carmen allowed herself a little half smile. It wasn’t nice – but it felt good.

  She was floating through the passenger berths now, and slowed her forward movement a little by tapping her hands on the chairs as she went by. There were people here but she realized they were not going to be a threat. Women, children, and a few men too sick to be up helping Pierce. Some of them were gasping for breath. All were showing signs of infection. She might be able to save some of them, if she could get the cure to them in time.

  “Found the epi-pens,” Fred said over the radio. “How many do I use? There are three.”

  “Hit him with two adult pens,” she said.

  “Why two?” Fred replied.

  Carmen growled under her breath. “Little busy here! I’m at the cockpit.”

  The cockpit door was just ahead. Carmen caught herself on the edges of the doorway to stop her forward motion. Just her head peeked into the space beyond. Nobody was inside! Pierce hadn’t left even one man behind to monitor the ship’s course?

  The moon loomed in the windows. They had to be very close to the moment when Pat’s course would put them into a slingshot around the moon. There was no coming back, once they did that.

  Carmen drew her legs up into the cockpit – until she felt hands lock around her left ankle! She looked down, and saw Pierce hanging there, both hands holding her tight.

  “Got you now,” he said.

  He brought his legs down to a rail and locked his feet in place. Then he pulled hard, almost yanking her out of the cockpit.

  Carmen screamed and kicked down hard. The first blow snapped his head back. She kicked him again and again with her free leg – and he lost his grip! Swiftly she drew her legs back away from him. The door, the door – she had to shut the door. She grabbed the big metal frame and started to swing it closed.

  Pierce smashed into the door from below with enough force to send her flying back away from it. He slid up into the cockpit, a wicked grin on his face. Carmen backed away from him, but there wasn’t much space in here. No room to maneuver. Piece drew a knife from his belt.

  “I’m going to cut you out of that space suit. And then I’m going to get real creative with you,” he said.

  Carmen was breathing hard. She needed to keep a clear head, look for a way to get the advantage. She pulled out her injector and dialed up a huge dose. If she could get that into him, she might have a chance of keeping him off her long enough for the sedative to work.

  Pierce saw the device and snarled. “Not going to help you, honey.” He dove in at her faster than she could react and slapped her hand, knocking the injector away. It slipped from her fingers and lodged against the console. Pierce continued his mad rush, his left hand trying to reach for Carmen’s throat, and not quite managing it thanks to the suit’s helmet. His right hand still held the knife. Pierce stabbed downwards, trying to slash at the fabric of Carmen’s suit. It seemed he planned to make good his threat, but Carmen didn’t want to wait around to see what his idea of creative might be.

  She grabbed his right wrist with both of her hands, stopping the knife cold. Pierce snarled at her, and pulled back his left hand to punch her. He swung. She turned her head so that his fist impacted the hard side of her helmet instead of her face. He howled with pain and rage, twisting his knife hand. The point was only a few inches from her chest now, and he wasn’t trying to cut the suit anymore. He was driving the point straight in.

  Carmen gasped for breath. Pierce’s sweat-stink filled her nostrils. His face was right there, inches from hers. She tried to slide away from him but he stayed close. Carmen’s back was against the window now. She had nowhere to run, and Pierce had his feet planted in the pilot’s seat, so he could push against her.

  “Going to slice you right open,” he said.

  Carmen gritted her teeth together to keep from screaming. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She looked aside, trying to look away from the deadly knife.

  And saw that Pierce still had his pistol in its holster.

  She twisted sideways, taking one hand away from the knife. The blade skittered past her, striking hard against the window behind her. She had the butt of the pistol in her hand. Moving faster than she’d ever thought she could, she whipped the weapon up and brought it around to aim at Pierce.

  He saw the threat and dropped his knife, grabbing for the gun. His hand slapped it sideways at the same moment as she pulled the trigger. The gun roared, deafening thunder. But the muzzle was turned. The bullet flew at the window, instead of at Pierce.

  Carmen heard a crack behind her. Where the bullet impacted, a huge spider web of cracks grew. She had just enough time to slam down the faceplate of her helmet before the window blew apart into fragments, spinning out into space. Carmen fell halfway out the window before she managed to stop herself.

  The air whooshed past her. Pierce tried to check his forward movement, fighting to hold on to his seat. Carmen brought a booted foot down on his face. Stunned, he released his grip and slammed into Carmen. Both of them rocketed out into space. She could see him mouthing something at her – she thought it was “you bitch”, but she couldn’t hear him in a vacuum. She shoved him away from her, hard, and he was already freezing up. He didn’t even struggle.

  The shuttle glided away from her. When the decompression pushed her out of the cockpit, it shoved her away from the ship, too. The shuttle engines were still off. But it was going straight toward the moon, and she was now drifting off at a sharp angle into space.

  Carmen looked at the moon, tracking the shuttle as it grew further away, and gulped. She’d never been out in space, not like this. She doubted she’d have turned down a spacewalk on a good day, but this was anything but.

  “Someone will come back and grab me,” she said aloud, as much to hear a voice as anything else. Pat would be out for a while, but Fred was still awake, right? She fiddled with the radio controls, making sure it was operating well so that she could reach someone when they came back for her.

  A beeping reached her ears. At first she thought it was the radio – someone trying to contact her already? Then she saw the icon flashing red on her helmet display. Low oxygen? She should still have some… She looked down at the little bottle, remembering how little had been left before. The suit must have continued pumping air out of the bottle even though her faceplate had been up.

  She had less than ten minutes of air left.

  Chapter 19

  PAT’S FIRST SENSATION was stinging pain on his right cheek. A moment later, the pain repeated itself on the other side. He opened his eyes, and saw Fred – about to take another swing at him. He reached up and blocked the slap. Then he reached over, grabbed Fred’s arm, and twisted – hard. Fred grunted but had no way to stop the spin. Pat let go and Fred crashed into the hallway ceiling.

  “Damn it, Pat! That hurt,” Fred complained.

  “So did the slaps,” Pat said. His head was still fuzzy. What the hell had happened? He looked around. The lights were all flashing red. Rosa was floating there, still tied up and unconscious. And a big collection of Pierce’s goons were here, too, all out cold. No sign of Pierce – or Carmen! Memory came flooding back. She’d injected him with something, and then started in on Pierce’s men. He’d fallen asleep.

  “She drugged us?” Pat asked.

  Fred nodded. “Didn’t have much choice. I watched it through the doors. She had to prove that the drug was safe, so she proved it on you. I brought you around with these,” he added, holding up a handful of spent epi-pens.

  Pat grinned. His head still felt like it was full of mud, but he was awake. That was something. “Where is she? And where’s Pierce?”

  Fred frowned. “Last I heard, she was up in the cockpit with Pierce in hot pursuit.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing?”

  Fred waved his hands at the flashing lights.
“See all those? The ship automatic alarms and emergency systems at work.”

  “What happened?”

  “Explosive decompression,” Fred said, each word grinding out like he didn’t want to say them. “In the cockpit. I checked the cameras – both she and Pierce were blown outside before the emergency doors shut.”

  Outside meant a death sentence for Pierce. He hadn’t had a suit on. But Carmen had – she might still be alive out there. And the shuttle was getting further away every second that passed!

  Pat’s head whirled as he tried to move too fast and his body just didn’t have the reaction time. He blinked back the grey at the edges of his vision. He didn’t have time for dizziness or nausea right now. Carmen needed him. “How long ago?”

  “Maybe a minute,” Fred replied. “But all we had were bottles for air – mine ran out about ten minutes ago. Hers might last longer...”

  “Get us slowing down and turn the shuttle around,” Pat said.

  “Will do. What are you going to do?”

  “Try to save her.”

  Pat pushed off, darting up into the cargo hold. The red flashes made the place seem more ominous than he’d remembered, and the occasional dizzy spells weren’t helping. What the hell had she dosed them with, anyway? He still felt sick from the virus, and now he felt sick from her sedative, too. But the cure was real – he knew that much. Fred wouldn’t have come along on this hare-brained mission if he didn’t believe in Carmen’s cure.

  Pat reached the cargo airlock where the Hopper was still waiting. He tapped controls on the console, and the inner doors opened back up. His eyebrows rose when he saw marks on the aluminum shell that looked like the result of automatic gunfire. Hopefully the thing would still fly! Only one way to find out. He slipped inside the Hopper and flipped a few switches, bringing the small craft to life.

  All of the telltale lights on the control console glowed green. “Miraculous,” he muttered. They really had built the thing tough as nails.