by CJ Birch
I keep my mouth shut. I know Hartley won’t appreciate his sacrifice, but the forty-five thousand people aboard the Posterus will.
“Let’s go,” I say, pointing toward the open dock. Just beyond, I can see the bustle of people in the corridors of the docking station. Hartley tugs the container, and it glides along behind him as he makes his way through the port.
Growing up, I’d heard so much about the Posterus and all her innovations, but I’ve only ever seen 3-D renderings. This will be like stepping through the looking glass and discovering an imaginary world turned to reality. The ship was designed to be an amazing flying bio-station, long-term and self-sustaining. It grows, maintains, and recycles its own food supply. We can harvest and create water on the fly, and all our energy is from renewable sources.
Hartley and I report first to the station manager to let him know that we’ve arrived and will need an internal escort to the engine room. Hartley fidgets with one of the case clamps with a nervous energy I’ve come to expect from him. He scratches at his beard, and for the first time, I take a good look at him. He’s exhausted. The sallow pouches of skin under his eyes sag, and his skin is dry and flaky. I kick the container to get his attention, and when I have it, I give him a look that silently asks if he’s okay. He nods. It’s a sharp movement, and just as soon his gaze moves toward the activity beyond. I empathize. I haven’t slept in what feels like days. My eyes feel as if they want to drop from my face and look for someone else who will treat them better.
I need him present. I need us to make it to the engine room. For my plan to work, we have to go through with this. If for any reason we divert, Sarka has promised me that Jordan will die. I can still feel his breath on my ear at the whispered exchange as I left her cabin. I don’t doubt his sincerity that her death would be excruciatingly slow and painful.
The station manager points us toward a behemoth of a man standing at the entrance to the main throughway of the ship. He’s dressed in the green uniform of the Posterus crew and has short, cropped hair and a square jaw. He must be part of the engineering team that will help us install the engine core. Originally Hartley was to have our crew help, but Sarka had Jordan send a message saying we will do it with a much smaller team.
I approach the engineer, wondering if he’s going to salute or shake my hand. If he were Union fleet, protocol would require him to salute, but seeing as he’s part of the Posterus crew, he isn’t required to. He smiles at me and gives me an informal salute and then holds out his hand. I shake it quickly and smile tightly.
“Lieutenant Ash?” he asks, and I nod. “I’m Amit. It’s good to meet you. Welcome to the Posterus.” Then his eyes focus on the man beside me, and I’ve lost him because Hartley has another geekling to add to his collection.
The man’s hand shakes as he reaches for Hartley. “It is an honor to meet you, Dr. Hartley.” I almost laugh at the title. But the fawning is good for Hartley, as he loses some of his nervousness and puffs slightly at the praise.
“Lead the way,” I say, stepping on the main concourse of the Posterus, and then stop, as all my attention is pulled short at the sight that greets me. The concourse is massive, and even that isn’t doing it justice. The corridor is probably half a kilometer wide and at least two long. It stretches above us to the windowed ceiling, showing a smattering of stars beyond the thick metallic glass. On either side, office and cabin windows overlook the concourse. Everything is integrated in both form and purpose. Edible plants line one side of the wall, forming part of our food chain, aiding in filtering out carbon dioxide, and adding to the aesthetic of the concourse.
Hartley slaps me on the back. “Don’t forget to breathe, Lieutenant.” He winks at me, and I wonder where this sudden confidence comes from. A second ago he looked like he was going to burst into tears.
“Hartley, I hope you’ve brought some Jackies. I think we’re going to need them.”
He nods, and I know he’s prepared for a number of contingencies.
We follow Amit as he weaves and skirts groups of people milling about. It really is like walking through a city. There are markets and shops where people can barter and trade for goods. We pass several commissaries full of people eating, laughing, talking. I’ve never seen anything to rival it, not even Alpha, and that biosphere is easily the most impressive of all the human settlements on the Belt. Seeing it like this, my resolve hardens. I can’t let Sarka destroy this. It is the ultimate in human ingenuity. On the Belt, we have the asteroids to mine and pull resources from. We have the unflagging solar energy from the sun. But once we begin our journey, we’re on our own. We will have to mine asteroids as we go, collecting water and other valuable resources en route. But more importantly, we will have to problem solve on the fly. There are a million things that can go wrong, and we won’t know all of them. No one can possibly predict every possible outcome. And only once we’re out there will we know whether we planned for enough contingencies to make it. This is our future. Despite the turmoil inside I can’t help but feel the excitement, the energy within everyone I pass. It crackles like a live connection stringing everyone together. Every single person aboard this ship is making history. We are all Erikson, Gagarin, and Kita in one, ready to brave the unknown, not because we can, or even because we should, but because we must.
Amit and Hartley are deep in conversation ahead of me. Every now and then Amit will raise his voice and turn to include me in the tour he’s giving. It takes a few moments to shift his whole body, turning as if his head is fused with his shoulders. I nod but don’t actually hear what he’s saying. As we get closer to our destination, my mind becomes focused on my goal, and everything else fades away, all my fears, all my emotions, leaving the all-consuming need to succeed.
We enter a lift and descend to the bowels of the ship. It’s less elegant the farther down we go, but no less impressive. The sleek design has been replaced with more functional and lightweight components, but the grandeur, the massive scale is still there. The lift’s windows reveal myriad worlds. Like a honeycomb, each is self-contained, yet part of a larger whole. We exit the lift and enter the engine room, which is almost as grand as the main concourse—almost. There are no windows of any kind, but the ceiling is easily five decks high, with open corridors housing computer banks along the edges of the room. In the center is the well for the core. A hydraulic arm is suspended above the pit to lift and position the core into place.
I stop at the entrance and take stock. There are a few engineers scattered at various workstations around the room, no more than six people. My first priority is to get them out. I haven’t figured out how yet. We’ll need help getting the engine core into place, and I don’t know how long that will take.
“Amit, do you mind if I speak with Hartley alone for a second?”
“Of course, take all the time you need. I’ll be over here briefing my people. When you’re done come find me.”
Amit plods toward central control, where he’s swarmed by green-clad engineers, like worker bees waiting for their orders. He towers over them and speaks in a low rumble, giving orders. A few steal glances our way.
I motion for Hartley to follow me over to the control panel, scanning it for what I need. I bring up a couple of screens and then add a shortcut so I can regain access to that menu as quickly as possible later. Hartley is watching me, and his eyes grow wide, missing nothing that I’ve just done.
“Lieutenant, why do I have the feeling I’ve been left in the dark here?”
I try to ignore the growing panic in his voice and keep mine calm. “What exactly were you told, Hartley?”
He opens up a menu on the panel in front of him and reviews several procedures. Without even waiting, he’s started the initialization sequence. “I was told I would be using the team from the Posterus to install the engine core instead of my own. I don’t like it, Ash. Why did they decide to keep my guys out of it? We’ve been setting up protocols all week.” He turns to me, and I can see his brain wor
king through the events of the last couple of days, trying to piece it all together.
“Who told you that?”
“One of the Burrs. They said they were coming with us, that they weren’t going to be left behind.”
Huh. Smooth. Hartley will be more likely to play along if he thinks they just want a ride. He has no idea he’s about to help blow this whole place to bits. I close my eyes, wondering if I should just tell him. Instead, I think back to Jordan’s cabin. Before I left, she grabbed my arm and made me promise not to do anything stupid. I can still feel the tender brush of her thumb against my wrist, though I wish I could forget. It makes what I have to do next all the more difficult. I see Jordan’s eyes, intense and dark, staring into mine, urging me to promise to be careful. It’s an easy lie, and I tell it well.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Hartley, I need you to listen carefully and do exactly what I say.”
His curious gaze follows the direction of my finger pointed at his chest.
“Exactly, okay?”
He steps toward me, and I take a step back. I don’t want to risk touching him. I pull the restraints from my cargo pocket. I grabbed them off the bed when Sarka had his back to me. I hand them to Hartley. Step one, make sure I can’t get near Hartley.
“I need you to cuff me to this console. Choose a new combination for the lock, one I won’t know. And then I need you to bring me a Jackie, but set it down so I can reach it if I need to.” As I speak, the frown on Hartley’s face deepens. Now I know he’s scared—there’s no inappropriate comments about restraints and bondage. This is all too much for him. I’ll be lucky if I can get him to focus for more than a minute. What should have been a triumphant, life goal moment has been stolen from him, and his confusion is quickly turning to suspicion.
“What’s really going on, Lieutenant? What do you need the Jackie for? Those things can kill you if you don’t know how to handle them properly.” He pulls out a set of work gloves and shoves them toward me. “Here, at least take some safety gloves.”
I snatch the gloves from Hartley and stuff them in my cargo pocket. I won’t need them. The whole point of having the Jackie is to overload my system, so Hartley doesn’t.
When I first discovered the Jackies, I was furious. Instead of working on the Persephone’s new hardware upgrades, Hartley was dicking around on something that not only appeared useless, but dangerous. One touch and a hundred amps course through your body, enough to kill anyone, even someone as large as Amit. Let’s hope I have the guts to use it.
Hartley is staring at me, all bug-eyed. His fingers are twisting themselves into a knot, and his hairline has become slick with sweat. He’s about five seconds from bolting.
“The Burrs aren’t coming with us—”
“If they want to come, I say let them.” He swipes at his forehead with his arm, causing the hairs in the front to stick out in odd directions.
“They have no intention of letting us get out of this solar system.” I point to his back. “I wasn’t trying to kill you when I stabbed you.”
“I know, Ash. It was the mind knot that made you do it. I don’t hold that against you.” His expression is so understanding and open that I actually believe he’s forgiven me.
“That’s not what I mean,” I say. “The Burrs didn’t want you dead, and that’s not why they had me stab you. It was a cover. I was lacing you with nanobots. You’re as combustible as a dead pine tree soaked in gasoline.” I thrust my arm toward him. “When you cuff me, don’t touch my skin, okay?”
“I’m not going to cuff you, Ash. What’s really going on?” He hesitates, then lowers his voice, even though he’s already talking so low, I can barely hear him. “Is this you talking, or the mind knot?”
“Hartley, just cuff me to the goddamned console already.”
“But why? What happens after I do that?” He’s edging away from me now. If I don’t get him on board quickly, he’s going to bolt.
“The Burrs are trying to sabotage the mission. They want to blow up your engine.”
He’s shaking his head now, and I’m worried I’ve lost him. He’s got this look on his face, the one people get when they’re wondering just how crazy you really are. I can see the inner fight he’s having with himself, weighing how likely it is that I’m lying with how likely it is that the Burrs would want to destroy his precious engine. He peers over at Amit, who’s still conferring with the six engineers off to the side. He looks over at us, and I wave to let Amit know everything’s fine—although it makes me appear even more insane.
“You’re nuts, Ash. You know that?” Hartley says.
“Hartley, I may be a lot of things, but you know I would never put anyone but myself at risk. I need you to trust me, a lot of lives depend on what you do in the next five minutes. And if you don’t want to believe me, I understand. All I ask is that you leave the engine room and let me do this.”
“What are you going to do?”
I take a deep breath. Here we go. “Eject the core.” Since the system is in place to protect the ship, the core will be well out of range by the time we explode.
“From in here? You’ll suck us all out! It’ll take months to find the engine core and repair it!” His volume is getting higher with each syllable. “You can’t do that—”
“Keep your voice down.” Amit is starting toward us with the group of engineers following closely. “Are you in or out?”
His gaze shifts to the well beside us.
“Hartley, there are forty-five thousand people on board this ship. There are only nine people in this engine room. Do the math. You want to be a hero or a fucking idiot?” I watch him agonize over it. There really is no decision, not when you factor in the numbers. I guess he’s deciding whether to stay or go.
“Jesus, Ash.”
“Hartley, there are only two outcomes. Mine at least saves the engine.” And the ship, and thousands of lives, but this is Hartley. I have to appeal to what he really cares about.
His eyes bore into mine, and I see his choice. I’ve said the right thing. That engine is like his firstborn. “Fine, I’ll help. But just for the record, I wish I’d never met you. I better get something named after me.”
I let the breath I’ve been holding out. “I bet they name the engine after you.”
“I don’t need to blow up for them to do that. I invented the damn thing.”
The next few moments turn slowly, feeling like hours instead of minutes. I’ve given up trying to think of a way to get the engineers out. Anything I can think of would be too suspicious.
As I wait, I think of Jordan and every little part that had me so drawn to her. From the moment we met. Her fruit-laced scent, her ivory skin, her inky hair. That determined look. But most of all, her strength. My mind flits from one moment to the next, the way the water glistened off her eyelashes in the shower, the feel of her strong thighs wrapped around me in the pod. It breaks my heart, all the moments we’ll never share now. But it’s because of these next few moments that she’ll live, and these sacrifices are the only way to make that happen. She’s the only person I ever truly felt a connection with. There was just something about the way she looked at me, like she was seeing past the surface, past the bravado, and really seeing me, with all our differences and similarities. She, better than anyone, understands my struggle to break free from my father’s shadow, and that it doesn’t define me, but makes me stronger. It made us stronger. And even though I never said the words, I love her. And for the first time in my life, I know, without having to ask, without having to hear it, that she feels it, too. It’s this thought, more than anything, more than duty or responsibility, that gives me the determination to complete this task. And deep down, one day, I know she’ll understand.
It takes another ten minutes to connect the engine to the hydraulic arm and another twenty to lift it into place. Focus. The actual initialization process is what will take the longest. It’ll take at least two weeks to integrate it into al
l the ship’s systems, but we’re not expecting to keep the engine that long. I don’t suspect we have too much longer. There’s a hum beginning underneath my skin. I’m not sure if it’s mental anticipation or something else, something more dangerous.
I’m doing the right thing. No more thoughts.
As soon as we have a moment alone, I tell Hartley to connect me to the console and leave. He slides a Jackie along the ground next to me but shakes his head.
“You need two people to eject the core, didn’t you see the protocol? Besides, they won’t name shit after me if I live through this.”
I smile at him. If you’d asked me two weeks ago whether I thought Hartley was capable of this, I would have said no. Hell, half an hour ago, I would have said no.
Just then, the ship rocks, banking us to the port side, and sending Hartley and me to the ground. The Jackie slides and drops into the well and I stupidly reach and grab for it. When my hand connects, my whole consciousness explodes into a million pieces before reassembling. My arms and legs buzz with electricity as one hundred amps surge through my system.
Vaguely I hear Amit shout, “What the hell was that?” I can’t move. Instead I’m lying on the ground, my hand still fused with the Jackie.
Hartley pulls himself up. His fingers fly over the console. “I don’t have any access to the sensors from here.”
Amit pushes him to the side. “You won’t, not down here. Only the bridge or the main command center will have access to the sensors.”
The ship rocks again, and I slide closer to the well. In my head, I’m screaming, but nothing comes out of my mouth.
“Are we under attack?” asks Hartley. He must be wondering the same thing I am: Either Union fleet got word of the Burrs’ interference, or we’re being attacked by Burrs. Maybe they thought things weren’t progressing fast enough.
“The bridge is still trying to figure out what’s going on,” says Amit. “There aren’t any other ships in the area. We couldn’t be under attack.”
