by Cheri Lasota
“You done?” Dextra asked.
“Yes, let’s be quick about this. Help me prep.”
They headed into the suit up compartment, and Solomon went straight for the compression suit. He made quick work of stripping out of the blue janitorial get up he donned earlier to hide his red Reacher uniform. Then he did a visual inspection of the compression suit. It wouldn’t do to get everything in place only to find his suit had a puncture in it, however unlikely that scenario might be.
These suits were the most advanced models the space community had ever designed. Unlike the classic EVA suits of the previous decades, these suits contained nickel-titanium memory alloys, which shrunk them into form-fitting but flexible compression suits. He loved the new “shrinks,” the nickname the crew used to describe the suits’ shrink-wrap qualities. Or maybe it was that he loved spacewalking, and anything that helped him achieve more walk time was a good thing.
“Flip the expander switch for me?” Solomon asked Dextra, who nodded and rushed over to the suit monitor panel and turned it on. The suits were so effective at compression they had to use powered nanosilc technology to expand the suit enough for an astronaut to slip into it—a small price to pay for supreme mobility.
Once the suit was fully expanded, he began the process of shimmying into it, checking his uniform didn’t get caught in the compression suit’s tight weave.
“You’re not going to take off your uniform first?” Dextra asked.
“I don’t want to waste the time.”
“Your mobility may be affected.”
“I don’t need to do intricate work, so it’ll do for this EVA.”
“All right.”
After he was fully inside the shrink, he made some minor adjustments around the neck, and Dextra helped him slip into the arms and torso portions. He gave her the thumb’s up, and she released the expander. The vacuum-like seal tightened around him, which was always a mildly uncomfortable experience. He checked the fit on all sides while Dextra unhooked the suit from the expander cable.
“You good?” she asked.
“Yeah. Can you find a full consumables module for me? I need to rummage around the tool modules for a pipe cutter.”
“What? Why?”
“Don’t ask.”
Dextra glanced back at him, her expression wary. “You’re not going to harm that boy.”
“I don’t plan on it, but I have to have a contingency plan.”
She glared at him but said nothing further.
He picked up the most powerful pipe cutter he could find and secured it inside the tool module complete with a pistol grip tool and several other key repair and patching materials.
Dextra was already bringing over the consumables pack when he began piecing together modules using the module builder hanging from the bulkhead. Dextra helped him mount the pack onto his back, and then there was nothing for it but to get moving.
“All right, time for me to take a walk.”
“You promise you won’t hurt Zander?”
He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “How about I just say that the last thing I would ever want to do is harm that boy, and I will do my level best to avoid it.”
“Not good enough.” Her voice was low as she held out his helmet.
He took it and touched her cheek with his gloved hand. “I know it isn’t. But my job is to save three thousand people—not one boy. He is our best chance.”
“You may be right, but I still don’t like it. He is innocent.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Didn’t you hear about the time he—?”
“Solomon, you’re getting distracted.”
“You’re my distraction.” He slipped a light kiss onto her lips. A faint smile touched those lips after he pulled away, and it reminded him of why he needed to survive this spacewalk. He pulled on his helmet and locked it into place.
Dextra grabbed hold of either side of his helmet and kissed the visor. “Take care of yourself.”
Solomon gently touched her cheek again with his gloved fingers, and then she moved out of the airlock. He wasn’t used to the feeling, but the room felt a little colder after she left. He locked himself in and glanced out of the airlock’s tiny fenestella. He’d need to use his gold-plated visor to block the sun’s rays before he headed out. He didn’t bother with running the Gravitational Flux to switch the AGG to micro-gravity. He just hooked on his tether and strapped into a chair along the bulkhead before keying in the O2 flush and airlock prep.
Solomon squeezed the pipe cutter attached to his belt, and mentally prepped to do whatever it took to force Docking Commander Marcks to start the ship’s launch initiation. He figured he had maybe a 50–50 chance of success. He’d had better odds.
The airlock opened and Solomon unbuckled from his seat and touched off the bulkhead with his feet to start his trajectory out of the hatch. He couldn’t see Zander from this angle, but he knew exactly where he was: the portside nose of the ship working on a nanosilc panel recently damaged by a micrometeoroid. It was a simple switch-out of the panel, which made it a perfect first job for the newest member of the Nanosilc Repair Team.
He had never admitted it to anyone, but incorporating nanosilc technology into the ship’s design was Solomon’s proudest achievement. Nanosilc was in and of itself an engineering marvel. An army of silicon-based robot-like nanobots only a few nano thick, nanosilc had multiple uses aboard Asteria-class ships.
First and foremost, once deployed, the fabric-like material created a shield on and around the ship’s hull to protect against micrometeoroids. Its electromagnetic field aided in the hull’s integrity and rigidity as well as funneled solar radiation toward the back of the ship where it was deflected further by nanosilc diffusion streamers trailing the ship for over a kilometer once they were underway.
Not only that, but the clever little things were going to get them through the Sideris Gate and through the wormhole, the Sideris Cavum. Once—or rather, if—the SS Challenge made it there in six months’ time, Challenge Command would deploy the SECASM, another ridiculously advanced use of the nanosilc tech. The Solar Energy Collector portion of the SECASM was built to act as a solar collection array, which they’d make use of as they approached Jupiter. Once at the gate, they would deploy the second function of the SECASM: the one-kilometer diameter Ford-Svaiter Mirror.
Some genius back in the day theorized that giant mirrors would provide the missing piece for creating a man-made wormhole. It wasn’t until nanosilc went into heavy use in the astro-engineering fields and Reach Corp started testing the material that it went from theory to production.
Solomon couldn’t help smiling as he floated on toward the nanosilc panels. Nanosilc was the little engine that could.
***
Zander fiddled with his wrist unit, switched to a direct EVA-to-EVA comm channel, and waved him over. “Hey, man, what’re you doing out here? I heard all about the shit you pulled earlier. What happened? Did they walk you or something?”
Solomon laughed, despite the seriousness of the situation. “Nah. I’m out here for a Sunday stroll.”
“For reals? They let you out here with all that chaos going on?”
“It was all a giant misunderstanding we finally cleared up. However, our time table for launch has been moved up exponentially, so they sent me out here to help you with your panel repair issue to get things rolling along.”
“Wow. I haven’t heard anything about a schedule change on the comms.”
“I suspect that’s either due to a spotty connection on your unit or the fact that everyone has been busy with the lockdown situation going on and hasn’t had time to update you.”
“What’s the new ETA for launch?”
“Far too soon to be lollygagging out here. We need to hurry. What’s your status on the repair?”
“Did you bring the tool I requested from the Astro Lab?”
“Yeah, got it here.” Solomon unhooked the drill from his belt and handed it to Za
nder, hoping it was the one he wanted.
“Well, I’ve got the panel in, but I’ve been unable to lock it down since I stripped my good drill.”
Where’s the damaged drill?”
“Ah, yeah, that bugger’s probably made it to Jupiter by now. I let it float. Didn’t see much point in keeping it since we’re heading out soon.”
Solomon frowned. While the possibility was low that the drill would impact the station, ship or other smaller craft, it was still a safety hazard and not worth the risk. However, Solomon didn’t chastise Marcks, because a brilliant plan had popped into his head. He silently thanked Zander for giving him the idea and simultaneously hoped it wouldn’t result in the kid’s death.
Solomon worked alongside Zander until they accomplished the task of securely locking down the newly repaired nanosilc panel.
“All done. Good job, kid,” Solomon said as the sunlight moved behind the hull of the ship. When they both raised their gold visors for better visibility, Zander flashed him a grin. “Reattach your tools and get things cleaned up. We’ll head in shortly. In the meantime, I’ll let the Astro Lab know we’re finishing up.”
“Yes, sir, Chief Reach. Thank you for the assistance.”
That jabbed Solomon in the heart a bit. After all, he had nothing against this kid.
“You’re welcome.” Solomon also realized this was the perfect opportunity to disable Zander’s comm unit. “I’m going to check out your comm unit. If for some reason it goes dead or wonky, our plan is to head right back into the airlock after I have a conversation with your mother to give her a status report on the repair. Stay tuned.”
“We can wait until we get into the airlock if you want.”
“For safety’s sake, it’s best we do it now in case we have an issue on the way back to the airlock.”
“Understood.”
Solomon moved around behind Zander and pretended to fiddle with the comm unit. “Your comm does appear to be showing an error. I’m going to remove it to see if re-seating it will fix the issue.”
“Sounds good,” Zander responded as he began to load up his pistol grip tool onto his tool belt.
Rather than waste an expensive piece of equipment they might need on the journey to New Eden, Solomon didn’t float the comm unit. Instead, once he removed it, he faced away from the ship and station and slipped it into his pocket.
When he shifted back around, he tapped gently on the side of Zander’s bubble helmet. Zander glanced up from organizing bolts.
“Lost your comm,” Solomon mouthed as he gestured at the back of Zander’s head and made the motion of floating.
“Gone?” Zander mouthed.
Solomon nodded.
Zander smiled and shrugged while Solomon pointed to his own comm unit, and then up at the Nautilus Command Bridge, indicating he wanted to make a call to Docking Commander Marcks. Zander nodded and went back to his work.
Solomon switched to a direct comm channel to connect with her. Glancing up toward the module where she worked, he could see her at her usual control panel. Vida Rosado stood behind her, holding something to the back of her head. Looked like Vida had escorted her into the Nautilus-11 Command Control Bridge and cleared the room as he had instructed.
This was it. Everything he had done thus far had culminated in this moment. Either she’d do the right thing and save the right people—including her son—or she’d choose Challenge Command’s directive. Surely she wouldn’t be that insane. Right?
“Marcks, this is Chief Reach on an encrypted channel.”
“You bastard. What the hell are you doing? You need to call off your dog here, or I’ll see you get walked.”
“Look out your window,” Solomon said. When she saw him, he gave her a little wave.
“Solomon, get your ass back on that ship. Get my son back on that ship.” Her voice rose exponentially higher with every word.
“Take a closer look, Marcks. Look at what I’ve got in my hand.”
He had already grabbed onto Zander’s tether and held the compression pipe cutter he had brought with him up to the Spectra tether cord. It was cut-resistant, but nothing could withstand a Reach Corp-approved pipe cutter.
“What are you talking about, Reach? Wait! Stop—” She halted speaking when the realization sunk in. “Don’t you dare touch my son, Reach.”
“What happens next is up to you, Daniela. You’re either going to save your son’s life alongside the lives of three thousand Reachers, or you’re going to make the wrong choice. I leave it to you. But I warn you: I have nothing to lose. You already know your son’s life is not my priority.”
“Take your hands off his tether. I’m going to call—”
“No, you’re not, Marcks. If you call anyone, if you make anyone suspicious of what’s going on here, I will cut this cord. I will cut your child loose, and make you watch him float off into the void.”
“Zander!” she screamed.
“I’ve disabled Zander’s comm unit, so don’t even try. Besides, if you make him suspicious of me, he’s likely to do something really stupid that’ll get him killed.”
“Dammit, Reach. What do you want?”
“I already told you. You need to make a choice right now. I know who you’ve got in Serica Sector. And I know what your vote was in that Joint Board Meeting. But now you can make the right choice. Now you can save your son. And you know as well as I do the Reachers have earned this ride.”
“I can’t help you. They’d leave me and my son behind if I helped you.”
“I can save you both, Daniela, but first you have to help me.”
“What the hell do you want, Reach?”
“Vida?” Solomon addressed his drive ops chief.
“Yes, Chief?” he heard her say faintly in the background.
“Has the Command Bridge been cleared of crew?”
“Yes, temporarily.”
“Good. Your job here is done, Vida. You and Kasen evacuate to the SS Challenge Shuttle Sector immediately. You’ll have one hour and no more.”
“Yes, sir.”
He watched as Vida’s form moved away toward the back of the bridge, silently wishing her Godspeed.
“Don’t even think of moving out of that chair, Marcks. I want you to start emergency undocking procedures for the SS Challenge right now.”
“I don’t—”
“No more excuses, Marcks. Do you want to live with your own son’s death on your hands for the rest of your life?” With those words, he glanced at Zander who was staring at Solomon’s face, obviously trying to figure out what he was saying to his mother as well as perplexed as to why he was holding onto his tether. Solomon had done his best to hold the pipe cutter behind the tether so Zander couldn’t see it.
“What about everyone still aboard the Nautilus?” Marcks asked. “That’s not enough time—”
“It’s up to you, Daniela. If you think you can get aboard this ship before it takes off, then give it your best shot. After you key in the launch codes, you’ll hit the station-wide evacuation emergency alarm. After that, I’ll leave you to board in whatever way you see fit.”
No way. I won’t be left here to die.”
“Your time is up, Marcks.”
Solomon hadn’t planned to go through with it, but he realized she was going to need some powerful motivation if he was going to get through to her. He opened up the metal shears and, without looking at Zander, clamped down on the boy’s tether. He released the pipe cutters and let them float away, which wasn’t the best idea, but they were the last of his worries at this point. He grabbed hold of Zander’s tether before he lost him.
He heard Daniela screaming in his ear, mostly a mix of expletives and her son’s name, but he focused on Zander’s face, which was ashen and full of fear. The question in his expression nearly killed Solomon. He could even see him mouthing the word: why? Why? Why?
Hand-over-hand, Solomon yanked Zander closer. He could tell Zander was conflicted, both wanting to be a
s far away from his would-be killer as possible but needing that proximity to survive. Solomon didn’t envy the kid’s predicament. He’d be scared shitless too.
He pulled him in until they were nearly helmet-to-helmet. Solomon wrapped Zander’s cord around his belt loop and secured it as best he could. And then he grabbed hold of Zander’s helmet and looked him straight in the eye.
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed. “I’ve got you.”
Zander shook his head, disbelieving, but even so, he dug his gloved fingers in between Solomon’s compression suit and his tool belt and held on.
“I’ll do it, Solomon,” Marcks shouted in his ear. “I’ll do it!”
He glanced up at her, saw her shadowed arms flailing in anger through the fenestella.
“Just don’t let go of him. Please don’t let go.”
“You understand now I’m dead serious, yes?” Solomon finally said in between her screams.
“Yes, all right, all right. I’ll do it. It’s going to take me a few minutes. Hold on to him.”
“You need to focus on my instructions, Marcks. Lock it down with the emergency lockdown codes for the launch procedure. No one—not even you—will be able to override it.”
“I don’t have that code sequence—”
“Yes, you do, Marcks. I know the codes, and I’m going to watch you input them via remote DOT in my HUD, so I can be assured you are not deviating from this plan. Only after that is completed to my satisfaction will I get your son back into the ship. Do we have an understanding?”
“Yes, Reach, we have a deal.”
“You’ve made the right choice. Now open up your module remotely and share it with my suit’s HUD. Suit number is”—he read off his armband—“4B52TTE84.”
When she repeated the number back to him, her voice was shaky.
“That’s correct.”
A minute passed, and then Marcks’s screen popped up in his helmet’s HUD. One by one, he relayed the codes to her as she inputted them into her control module, a series of four that had to be keyed in at set intervals and in the right order.
“Set time to launch at one hour and no more,” he prodded.
