“Stand away from the door,” the frightened voice said.
Floyd stomped his foot on the ground a few times, but he didn’t give up his spot. “Okay. We’re standing back.”
He heard the bolt pull back and was so excited he held his breath. The heavy hatch opened, and a woman stood there, her clothes wrinkled and her skin stinking of fear. She stared at Floyd, realizing too late she’d been tricked. “Oh, my God,” she said, trying to pull the door closed again.
Floyd grabbed the hatch and pulled her out of the storage room. “Well, not exactly.”
Floyd got busy with killing the woman. The acolytes got the rest.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Even though Floyd and his renegade crewmembers had stopped trying to cut into the bridge for now, Dirk busied himself reinforcing the welding along the access hatches. He had just finished up the last one when Logan came up behind him. Logan leaned over and inspected the welds, then nodded sagely.
“Nice work,” he said, as if his opinion mattered.
Dirk didn’t say anything. He just waited, trying not to inhale the stench of alcoholic sweat that clung to Logan’s skin. He knew Logan had more to say, so Dirk just waited and let the captain squirm. Logan gestured to a small storage room. Evidently this conversation required privacy. Logan must be ready to admit he was wrong about something. There were so many mistakes attached to Logan that Dirk was at a loss over which one would actually be the magic bullet.
He followed Logan into the storage room and waited while the captain secured the hatch. “What do you want?” Dirk asked.
“We need to talk about that damn ship,” Logan said in a harsh whisper.
Now they needed to talk about the ghost ship. Now that everything was turning to shit around them, Logan was concerned. “I’m listening. What do you want to do?”
“How much longer do you think we have until that damned thing blows up and takes us with it?” Logan asked.
Dirk folded his arms across his chest. “I have no idea.”
“Well, we have to do something about it,” Logan said, stating the obvious.
Dirk stared at him. “It was your decision to wait.”
“I know that, Dirk. But now I’m thinking that might have been a mistake.”
“What was that?” Dirk asked, cupping his hand behind his ear. “The great Logan made a mistake? It can’t be possible.”
“I’m not finding you the least bit funny,” Logan snapped. “Especially since our survival is at stake. I need you to go back over there and cut that tractor beam.”
Luckily, the flight deck with the shuttle was on their side of the lockdown. Floyd could still try to interfere with the launch, but it wouldn’t be easy. All he’d be able to do is throw off Dirk’s navigation system by releasing debris from all over the Mastodon. But as far as real mischief went, that was about it.
“What about Floyd?” Dirk asked.
“I’ll deal with Floyd. He’s a big problem, but not as big a problem as the derelict ship. Will you do it?”
Dirk nodded. What choice did he have?
“First I want to stop by the clinic again and see how Sonya is doing. Then I’ll take off.”
Logan nodded a little too vigorously. “Of course. Radio me back and let me know, will you? I’ve been worried about her, too.”
Dirk didn’t believe a second of it. “Sure, Logan. I’ll be in touch.”
* * * *
The sick bay was surprisingly full. Most cots had sick or wounded in them, but most disturbing of all was that the patients were restrained. Doctor Barnes spotted Dirk from across the room and came over to join him. The doctor followed his gaze to a woman secured to a cot, her eyes glassy and bloodshot. Dirk also noticed a mouth guard secured to her face to prevent the patient from spitting.
“Every time I think we’ve hit a bottom, things keep getting worse,” Dirk said.
Barnes nodded. “Yes, but I do have some good news.”
Dirk searched the doctor’s face. “There’s good news in this unholy mess?”
Barnes led him to a recovery room in the back of the clinic. Sonya was sitting up in bed doing a crossword. Dirk could barely believe his eyes. He pulled the curtain around them and lowered himself into a chair. Sonya smiled at him and draped a lock of black hair behind her ear. “I hear things are going nuts all over.”
“You were right, Sonya. You were right about not towing that damn ship, and dragging back those bodies. You were right about everything.” He took her hand and squeezed it. She blushed, and his heart took flight. God, she is beautiful. The relief at seeing her okay was close to overwhelming.
“I guess none of that really matters at this point,” she replied. Sonya placed the crossword puzzle on the table next to her bed. She looked great for someone who’d just had some alien organism spit into her eyes.
“I don’t understand how come you didn’t get sick. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad but . . .” Dirk stopped talking before he said something stupid.
Sonya smiled, and it made her look so much younger. “Doc Barnes believes that my epilepsy meds saved me. Turns out the medication’s toxic to the organism. He’s experimenting right now with those infected to see if he can reverse what’s happened.”
“I sure hope so. But thank God you’re doing better.”
“That’s very sweet, Dirk. Thanks.” Her lovely dark eyes searched his face. “So, what’s going on with that tractor beam? What’s Logan’s latest stupid plan?”
Dirk leaned back in his chair but didn’t let go of Sonya’s hand. “He’s allowing me to go back to the ghost ship and try to disconnect the damn thing. I only hope it’s not too late.”
“Me, too.” Sonya jumped up out of bed and pulled her clothes off the rack next to her bed. She peeled her hospital gown off with her back to him and began to dress. She was so beautiful Dirk thought he was going to fall off his chair.
“What are you doing?” he asked when he could finally speak.
“I’m coming with you. You’re going to need my help.”
“I’d welcome the company, but are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked.
Sonya turned around while buttoning up her uniform. “If we don’t get that derelict ship off our backs, we’re all dead. I can’t think of any better reason to get back to work.”
Dirk stood up. The woman had a point, and she was good at deciphering the alien code. She’d definitely be a help. “You’ve got a point there. Okay then.”
Sonya hesitated. “Should we tell Logan I’m going with you?”
Dirk just shook his head in disgust. “Fuck Logan. I’m done with him. It’s obvious he’s in way over his head. It’s up to us to save this ship.”
“Okay then,” Sonya said. “I’m ready.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dirk docked the shuttle to the ghost ship with ease, which made Sonya even more nervous about what kind of state they’d find the ship’s clock in. That was almost too easy. Was it still counting and ready to self-destruct? The thought made the hair stand up on her arms even under the heavy space suit. Finding the bridge again was simple. All they had to do was follow the chalk arrows Dirk had drawn on the walls during their first visit.
They came onto the bridge expecting the worst, like they only had ten seconds to disengage the tractor beam, when Sonya noticed the clock had stopped. She blinked, unable to believe her luck. She approached the strange glowing alien numbers. They were definitely not advancing. Sonya glanced back at Dirk.
“What do you think happened?” he said.
Sonya went over to the system controls. After experimenting with a few keys, she noticed a few lines of code that appeared to have frozen the entire operating system. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said, unable to take her eyes off the screen, “but I think it’s a computer virus.”
“Maybe the aliens couldn’t stop the countdown any other way,” Dirk said.
Sonya nodded her agreement. “But that st
ill doesn’t answer what happened to all of them. All their shuttles are still here, but with the exception of just those three bodies, there’s no sign of anyone.”
“Well, judging from what happened to Floyd, we know that the parasite makes its host homicidal. So, where does that leave us?” Dirk looked around the bridge as if the answer were written on the walls. Then he leaned in close to a monitor flashing random scenes of the ship’s empty passageways. “Wait, aren’t the cargo doors always secured during flight?”
Sonya came over and waited for the grainy picture of the aft cargo doors to come back on the screen. When the image appeared, Sonya felt her stomach drop. The control panel had a bunch of colored buttons, but one had been flashing red ever since their last visit. Taking a chance that it controlled the cargo doors, Sonya pushed the button, and, sure enough, the large steel doors closed. “The last three survivors must have lured the crew down to the cargo area and . . .”
“Flushed the whole damn crew into outer space,” Dirk said, finishing her thought.
Sonya tried to quell the horror building in her gut. “That’s a hell of a way to die.”
“Yeah,” Dirk agreed. “Now let’s find that tractor beam and leave this cursed ship where we found it.”
Scanning the controls, Sonya quickly found the original button and pressed it. The tractor beam immediately disengaged. They both let out a big sigh of relief. “Let’s get back to the Mastodon. We need to stop Floyd before he manages to flush our whole crew into outer space.”
“Hopefully we won’t be too late,” Dirk said.
Chapter Twenty-Six
As far as Logan could tell, most of the crew on Floyd’s side of the ship was either infected with the parasite or dead. He’d tried to talk to Floyd by radio, but the man was too far gone for conversation. Floyd spoke in a series of shrieks and grunts that Logan believed meant nothing at all. So, that left Logan with no other choice but to infiltrate Floyd’s part of the ship and either kill everyone over there or take them prisoner. Logan wasn’t the Rambo type. Neither choice appealed to him much.
He watched Whittmeyer studying the Mastodon’s ventilation blueprints. After more than two hours of heated discussion, there appeared to be only one viable way to sneak over to the other side and catch Floyd off guard.
“There’s at least a dozen ways of getting over there, Captain.” Whittmeyer magnified a large section of twisting ducts and pointed at one in the auxiliary engine room. “According to our monitors, they’ve been spending a lot of time in there.”
“Probably trying to plot a way of overriding the bridge,” Logan muttered.
Whittmeyer leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Probably.”
Logan rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “How many can fit into a duct at one time?”
“Two,” Whittmeyer said. “Any more than that and they’ll probably fall through. The ducts weren’t meant to hold people crawling through them.”
A group of crewmembers stood in a small group talking on the bridge. They seemed calm enough, but Logan could see how nervous they were. This was life or death, and everyone knew it. If they couldn’t stop Floyd, there was little doubt the infected man would find a way into this part of the ship and kill them all. But then again, if Dirk and Sonya couldn’t get that ticking time bomb off their backs, they were dead there, too. Nothing like being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Logan turned to Whittmeyer, who was still staring at the blueprints. “I know you want to go with me, Whittmeyer, but I want you to stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because if something happens to me, I need you to take command of the ship and try to keep these people safe,” Logan said.
“What about Sonya or Dirk? Aren’t they supposed to assume command if anything happens to you?”
“They have another assignment.”
“So, who are you going to take with you?” Whittmeyer asked.
“No one,” Logan said. “I’m going alone. This whole thing, the parasite, that damned ghost ship attached to our ass, is all my fault. I should be the one to go alone. There’ll be plenty of time for you and the crew to try other heroics if I don’t make it out.”
Whittmeyer slapped Logan on the shoulder. “It’s your call. Good luck, Captain.”
* * * *
Logan hadn’t worn a blaster in years, but the thing felt comforting and familiar as soon as he strapped it on. Then he grabbed the map Whittmeyer had printed out and started making his way through the first duct.
Traveling through the ventilation system was less pleasant than Logan had imagined. After only a few feet, his knees began to pop and crack, aching with all-too-familiar arthritis. But he pushed himself forward, stopping at every juncture to examine the map and pray he hadn’t already been overheard by Floyd and his people. Finally, when Logan thought he wasn’t going to be able to travel another step, he came to a covered grate and beyond it, he heard the agitated voices of Floyd’s followers.
This was it, he thought. Just like Custer’s last stand, only this time it was only one man against an overwhelming number. Shifting in the small space so he was sitting on his buttocks, he placed his boots against the grate and groped for the hip flask of liquor he always carried. He sucked the contents dry and charged the blaster to full. Wouldn’t those crazy bastards be surprised to see him? Logan sure hoped so.
The alcohol took effect quickly, firing his senses with drunken fury. Logan squeezed the blaster’s handle like the farewell hug of a loved one, took a few deep breaths, and kicked the grate open. He jumped into the midst of Floyd and his people. They were all standing in a circle around him smiling with yellow teeth, just like rats. So much for the element of surprise, Logan thought. And then, as the crowd closed in around him, Logan started firing.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Mastodon, this is Chief Miller. Do you read me?” Sonya stared at the large silhouette of the cargo ship as they made their docking approach. Dirk shifted nervously in the seat next to her.
“Mastodon, do you read?” she repeated.
After a long pause, her radio sputtered to life. It was Whittmeyer, who was apparently feeling fine. “Yeah, Chief, we read you. How did everything go on the alien ship?”
Sonya leaned back in her chair and chuckled with relief. “Things went good. The countdown was stopped by an internal virus. We also managed to disconnect the tractor beam. We’ll be completely away from the ghost ship in just under an hour. I’m confident we’re safe.”
“Did you and Dirk ever find out what happened to the crew?” Whittmeyer asked.
Sonya glanced at Dirk. He took her cue and leaned forward to explain. “From what we could gather, they got forced into the cargo hold and were jettisoned into space.”
“Wow. What a shitty way to die.”
“What’s the status of our ship?” Sonya asked.
“We’ve got the bridge and starboard side secured, but Floyd has a rebel crew trying to take over. The captain’s on a mission to see if he can reason with them,” Whittmeyer said.
“And if he can’t?” Sonya asked.
“We’re just playing it by ear. I haven’t heard from him in a whole hour. At least he took a blaster with him.” Whittmeyer’s voice was tense and cryptic.
“How did he get to the other side if all the hatches are welded shut?” Dirk asked.
“He went through the ventilation system.”
“Can you bring a copy of the map he used to the docking bay?”
“Sure can,” Whittmeyer said. “Good to have you both back in one piece.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sonya stood on a chair and looked into the ventilation system. “It’s pretty narrow. I don’t think you’re going to fit, Dirk.”
She climbed down again and met his unhappy gaze. “I’m not comfortable with you going alone.”
“Well, it’s either that or we all sit around here and wait for the crew to cut through all these sealed-off hatches.
That could take hours.”
“Come with me for a second,” Dirk said. Sonya followed him down a few passageways until they reached his stateroom. They slipped inside and closed the door behind them. Dirk wrapped his huge arms around her and hugged her close. “Can’t you just send someone else?”
Sonya hugged him back. It felt good to feel him in her arms. “I’m the Chief. You know I can’t.”
“I have something for you.” Dirk let her go and went to a small safe next to his dresser. He worked the combination and removed a nasty looking Turnbull blaster. Sonya had never seen one, but she’d heard they were big in the last Korean War. They could blast a basketball-size hole in anything up to ten feet away. The Turnbull was on the restricted list of weapons, meaning Dirk had to have bought this one on the black market or brought it back from the war with him. He handed it to her. “This ought to make things more even.”
Ghost Ship Page 8
