"Well then, I better get going."
"No, wait," said Cyrus. "You're not doing this on your own."
Scott raised a palm. "I'll not put any more lives at risk. I need to do this myself."
"No way," said Miranda. "We're all in this together."
He sighed and shook his head slightly. "I really appreciate that, but too many have died already. You're safer here."
"Nonsense. We're coming with you." Steph was adamant.
"No. If you really want to help me, then listen to me: I want to do this alone. This is between me and Dyrell. Let me do what I have to do."
The crew were silent for a moment before Miranda spoke. "Okay, if you insist. But be careful and don't do anything stupid." She gave a light laugh. "Remember, I won't be there to protect you."
Scott gave a lopsided smile. "I'll keep it in mind."
"You best get going, Commander," said Goodchild. "The device will be brought to the landing pad, ready for you to take onboard your craft."
Scott nodded.
"They have given no clear directions after you take off, other than simply to rendezvous with the Dyrell ship. I presume they will give you more detailed instructions once you are on an approach vector."
"Okay, I need to go." He turned to the crew. "Come on. You can walk with me to the landing pad."
22
Change of Plan
Scott strode down the wide corridor that led to the landing pad airlock. He had donned his EVA suit and carried his helmet under one arm. Regina Goodchild walked beside him, saying nothing. Behind him, Steph and Cyrus carried the EPR device, which had been reunited with its container. Miranda had chosen not to come. He was disappointed. Perhaps he had figured her wrong, like a lot of things in his life.
They arrived at the airlock and hit the button to open the inner door. Two drones now took the container from Steph and Cyrus.
"Time to go," said Scott as he held out a hand.
Cyrus took it, pulled him in, and embraced. "Good luck, buddy."
Scott nodded. "Thanks."
Steph then wrapped her arms around him.
"Hey," said Scott, "I'll be back."
Steph released him. "Sure. I know." She looked away.
The drones carried the container into the airlock, and Scott turned to walk in behind them.
"Wait, stop."
He looked back to see Miranda running up the corridor in a full EVA suit, in that long bounding style only possible in low gravity. She charged into the airlock beside him. "You're not going without me."
"But..."
"No buts, no arguments. I'm coming with you." She snapped on her helmet and elbowed him. "Better buckle up."
He had no choice, and no time to argue with her, so he just gave a smile. "Okay, if you insist." He got his helmet ready, closed the visor, and hit the button to close the inner door.
They walked out across the pad along with the two drones, carrying the container behind. Ahead was the lander, looking small and insignificant against the backdrop of the massive domes on either side and the expanse of space above.
"Why did you come? You know we probably won't be coming back," said Scott.
"Don't be such a pessimist. We're not going down without a fight. Anyway, they've nothing to gain by getting rid of us."
"Maybe, but don't you wonder why they're so keen to have me bring it?"
"They're just trying to rub it in, the whole family history thing, that's all."
"Why do you think I took this job? Five years in the backwaters of the Belt? I took it to get away from them. They were chasing me down for family debts. Debts supposedly owed to Dyrell. These are very nasty people."
"They don't care about that now. They just want this stupid thing." She pointed at the container the drones were carrying.
"I'm not so sure. The game is up for me—I don't see a way out of it."
"You can't just lay down and give up. You gotta stand up and fight."
"And where did fighting ever get you, Miranda?"
They stopped at the base of the lander, and Miranda turned to face him. "I don't need this shit from you right now, Scott. I'm trying to help you, in case you've forgotten. I'm putting my ass on the line here, so let's just get this done, and go home. Okay?"
"Sorry. Forget I said that. I... I'm really glad you're here."
Miranda sighed. "Come on, let's get this thing on board and get moving—before I change my mind."
A few moments later, they were both strapped into their seats inside the lander cockpit. Miranda busied herself powering up the systems and doing a pre-flight check.
"So, what's the plan?" she said as she glanced over at him.
"We don't want to get too close to the Dyrell ship. So, I suggest we get to within a reasonable distance and shove this container out of the lander into space—in their general direction, of course. They can go and pick it up themselves."
"Okay. Let's do it, then."
The craft's engines ignited and Miranda gently piloted it up off the pad. Through the main window, Scott could see the massive domes of Europa scroll down and across as the craft lifted and rotated out of the landing area.
The had only risen a few hundred meters when the comms bursts to life. "Europa craft, this is the Dyrell ship Enki. Please rendezvous at our stern port-side airlock where you can dock and transfer the cargo. Over."
Scott was about to transmit a reply when Miranda stopped him. "Wait. That's not going to work."
"I know, not our plan."
"No, I don't mean that. I mean they obviously don't realize just how old this machine is. It has no universal docking port. We are technically incapable of docking with the Dyrell ship."
"Okay, well that solves that problem." Scott hit the transmit button on the comms desk. "Enki, this is Europa Craft. We do not have a universal docking port so are unable to comply. However, we will bring our craft close to your stern port and jettison the cargo. You can pick it up by EVA. Over."
There was a momentary pause as Scott and Miranda exchanged glances.
"This is not acceptable. Please standby and await updated instructions. Out."
"I knew it," said Scott. "They won't be satisfied until they get me onboard that ship."
"Screw them. We just stick to our own plan."
"How badly do they want me? That's the question. Badly enough to start taking potshots at Europa if I don't comply? I would be putting other people at risk. I can't do that."
Miranda said nothing, just glanced over at him with a concerned look on her face.
"Wait a minute," said Scott. "That shuttle we took from Neo City, it has a universal docking port?"
"Well, yeah. But I don't see how that helps," said Miranda.
Scott leaned in again and hit the transmit button. "Enki, this is Europa Craft. Change of plan. We are redirecting to the Hermes and transferring cargo onto a shuttle that will be able to dock with your craft. Over."
"What the hell are you doing? Are you mad?" Miranda reached over and grabbed Scott's arm.
"Remember what you said? Sometimes you gotta stand up and fight."
"Yeah, but this is just playing right into their hands, Scott."
"You're forgetting: that shuttle is not the only thing sitting in the hangar."
Miranda gave him a strange look, trying to figure out what he meant. He was surprised she didn't get it, so he leaned over and put his hand on her arm. "Trust me."
"Europa Craft, this is Enki. Your amended plan is acceptable. You have thirty minutes to execute, or we will commence firing on Europa. Out."
"Bastards," said Miranda, before changing flight direction. "I hope to hell you know what you're doing, Scott. So, what's in the hangar that's going to help us get out of this one?"
"High explosives," said Scott.
"Of course." A big smile radiated across her face. "Now you're talking my kinda language."
Scott hit transmit again, but this time it was to contact the Hermes. "Aria, this is Co
mmander McNabb. Can you open the hangar bay doors? We're coming in. Over."
"Ah, Scott. Good to hear your voice. I have been very concerned for you all. Is everyone okay? Over."
"Yes, all good. Out."
Miranda was now pushing the little lander as fast as she dared to get to the Hermes with enough time to make the transfer. Ahead, they could see the old space station coming into view, its hangar doors already open.
"Any ideas on how we're going to work this?" said Miranda.
"Once we're back on board, we can have Aria get the code to open the container from Solomon. Then fill it with explosives and deliver it."
"I get that, but how do we get away if we're docked to the Enki?"
"We wing it."
"Wing it?"
"Let's not worry about it now—let's just get the first part done."
Miranda deftly brought the craft in to land on the extended platform. They felt a slight jolt on touchdown as clamps swiveled over to secure it in place. The platform started to retract back into the hangar. A moment later, the bay doors closed and Scott and Miranda began to unload the container.
They strapped it down to the floor of the hangar so it wouldn't float off in the zero-gee environment, and Scott entered the code that Solomon had given them to open it. Miranda already had the container with the explosives open. "Any idea how these work?" She picked out one of the small cylinders.
"They're standard issue for asteroid mining." Scott moved over beside her and lifted out one of the small handheld remote detonators.
"There's a number on the side of each cylinder. Simply tap it into the keypad on the detonator and it's primed." He flicked open a red cover on the side. "Once it's active, press here and... ker-boom." He looked into the box of explosives. "There's enough here to turn an M-Class asteroid into ball bearings. So, we'll only need a few to put a great big hole in the Dyrell ship." He began transferring some of the cylinders over to the container, one by one.
"Okay, that should be more than enough. Let's get it onboard, and I can arm them en route."
They spent a few more minutes getting it transferred onto the shuttle and Scott started arming the detonator as Miranda powered up the craft and ran through the pre-flight checks. "We still don't have a plan for how to do this and get away."
"I was thinking," Scott looked over at her with a smile, "weapons would be good. Where are the ones we brought back from Neo City?"
"I stashed them in Cyrus's workshop."
"I think you should go get them."
"Do we have time?"
"Yes, now go. I still need to prime the rest of these explosives."
Miranda hesitated for a beat before rising from her seat and clambering out of the craft. Scott watched her float across the hangar space and into the interior airlock. Once she was out of sight, he sat down in the pilot seat and hit the comms on his headset. "Aria, open the hangar bay doors."
"Yes, Commander."
Scott took a few moments to familiarize himself with the layout of the flight console of the shuttle. He had flown a few of these shuttles before but it was a long time ago, and he was a bit rusty.
"Aria, extend the platform, please."
"Should you not wait for Miranda to return?"
"Just do it, Aria."
"As you wish, Commander."
He felt a judder as the floor below the craft started to extend outward. His comms burst into life. "Scott, what are you doing?" It was Miranda. She would be unable to enter the hangar now that the bay doors were open and the platform moving.
"I'm sorry, Miranda. But there is no way out of this. I have to do it alone."
"No, Scott, we're in this together. Don't do it."
"There's no need for both of us to die."
"Scott."
"You were right, Miranda. It's time for me to stand up and fight back."
"Scott, no."
He switched the comms unit off and powered away from the Hermes.
23
Dyrell
Scott took it slow, no need to rush. He felt a deep calm envelop him; he knew what he needed to do, and it felt right. He was more certain of this path than any other he had ever embarked on, and with it came a transcendent clarity—a purity that he now understood. It was straight, and true, and final.
For too long, his life had been defined by the actions of others. It had molded him more than he had realized. Central to this had been witnessing the utter futility of his father's battle for truth and justice, which ultimately killed him and instilled in Scott an almost visceral desire to not follow the same failed path. His father's philosophy had been one of direct confrontation to the point of destruction of almost all that he had held dear. So, Scott's would be the opposite. If his father's belief was fight, then his would be flight. And so he had run far away from Earth and the ruins of his father's intransigence. But, as it turned out, far away was not far enough. Dyrell were not content with the price they had already extracted—they wanted more. So, Scott ran further, out to the very edges of the Belt. But even in that remote corner of the solar system, he still could not hide from the fickleness of chance. It was as if his destiny was to be forever embroiled with the actions of the past.
Yet sitting here now, in this shuttle, on this mission, he could not help feeling that there was a little part of his father riding with him, entangled within the quantum device he now carried. It seemed fitting for him to think this way. They were in it together. They would make it all right again, exact a just revenge. Together, they would ride this steely chariot into the gates of hell and annihilate all before them in a fireball of retribution.
The comms burst into life.
"Scott?"
"Miranda?" How was she communicating? Then he realized he had only switched off their suit comms; she was now using ship-to-ship. "You need to get off this channel—they can hear."
"It's encrypted, Scott. Only we can hear."
He reached over to switch it off, but hesitated.
"Don't do this, Scott. There is a better way." Her voice was stressed, her words rushed.
"It's okay, Miranda. I'm here with my father. We're doing it together."
"Your father?"
"Yes. We're going to charge straight in through their front door and put it all to right."
"Scott, you don't have to do it this way." Her tone was more measured now.
Through the shuttle window, Scott saw the Dyrell craft getting closer. Time to step on the gas.
"Time to go, Miranda."
"No, wait, wait. Aria says there might be another way."
"Thanks for thinking about me, but the time is now."
"No, Scott..."
He switched off the comms.
She was distracting him from the mission, making him lose focus. He needed to concentrate, find his mark, and aim for it.
What did she mean by “another way?” he thought. Don't go there. Focus. He fought to keep his mind on track. But the thought would not go away now that Miranda had planted the seed.
Destroying the device was easy. Simply press the button on the detonator he had clipped to his EVA suit. But to destroy the Dyrell ship, he would have to get the container inside, although that was not difficult either. If he were to actually dock with the Dyrell, the doors would open and they would simply take it inside themselves. The problem with that, though, was would he get time to detonate it before they figured out what he was doing? Possible, he thought. He would still be able to realize his objective. Of course, he would be blown to smithereens. But that was okay, too as he had already reconciled himself to that.
So, what did Miranda mean? How was there another way? The thought would not leave him, and he was getting close to the Dyrell ship. He would need to make his mind up soon or lose the opportunity.
The way Scott saw it, there was no way in which he could get the container inside the ship, undock the shuttle, and then detonate it from a safe distance. The problem was once the shuttle connected, it co
uld only be released by the Dyrell ship. Scott would be stuck there.
"Think," he said out loud. Maybe I could blow out the docking port? After all, he had a container load of explosives. All he needed was one charge for the port. There would be more than enough left to convert the Dyrell into scrap metal. But he only had one detonator. Unless...
Scott slowed the craft down so he could buy more time, and unstrapped himself from the pilot seat. He floated over to where the container with the EPR device was tied down and opened the lid. Inside, he had stuffed around twenty of the explosive canisters. He picked one out and examined it for a moment, put it back, and picked out another one. He was looking for a particular type, one with a built-in timer. He was pretty sure there would be at least one in here. The container these had come from was standard issue, so there should be both timed and remote-detonated charges in the mix.
On the third try, he found one. He stuffed it into a pocket, closed the lid of the container, and moved back to his seat. On the primary cockpit screen, proximity detectors were picking up the docking beacon of the Dyrell ship.
It's now or never, he thought. Time to decide. Scott paused for a beat then leaned over and flicked a switch to allow the Dyrell ship to take control and adjust the shuttle's orientation to line it up on the docking port. The monitor bleeped as the craft drew closer. Finally, Scott felt the thud as the two ships made contact and locking bolts fired to clamp him in place. He was now immobile, and would remain so until the mothership released him or he somehow broke free.
He didn't have much time; they would be opening the docking hatch in a minute or two. He rose from the pilot seat and floated into the cargo area of the shuttle. He untied the container with the EPR device and moved both it and himself into a position directly opposite the hatch. There was no airlock on the shuttle side, but there would be on the mothership. Therefore, he had to clear that to have any chance of his crazy plan succeeding. He tethered himself to the floor of the cargo hold, psyched himself up, and waited.
Scott felt, rather than heard, the clunking of the outer airlock door being opened. He wound himself up, ready to spring. The inner shuttle hatch finally swung open, revealing three figures on the far side, two holding plasma guns. Scott pushed the container out toward the opening with all the speed and strength he could muster. The container shot forward and crashed into the three figures, carrying them along as it plowed on into the cargo hold beyond.
The Belt: The Complete Trilogy Page 15
