by B. C. James
Briggs smiled and told Arnold how to shut down main power while Sharp completed the oxygen transfer.
“Got all that?” Briggs asked after he’d finished his instructions.
“Uh, sure,” Arnold replied.
“Well, get going then,” Sharp ordered. “Oh, and Arnold, try not to take too long. I’m not sure I can convince Morales not to leave without you.”
Arnold rolled his eyes and left the bridge. Sharp gave Briggs a questioning look.
“He’ll be fine… I think,” Briggs said as he pulled on the armored pressure suit. Sharp laughed and lifted the replenished life support module onto his shoulders. Sharp placed the helmet over Briggs’ head and sealed it then helped him into his gloves. Briggs pressurized the suit, and when he nodded, Sharp boosted him up to the airlock door. He pulled it open and Briggs moved through. He activated his magnetic boots and gave Sharp a thumbs up.
“Open cargo bay three,” Sharp instructed, holding up three fingers to reiterate. “That’s the one Pierce emptied out to put his embryos in. It’s mostly clear. Should be plenty of room for the lander.”
Briggs nodded and Sharp swung the door closed, sealing him in the airlock. With the power to the controls still out, Briggs would have to pop the outer door without depressurizing the room. Sharp watched through the porthole as Briggs flipped upside down and placed his mag boots onto the ceiling next to the hatch. He gave Sharp one final look and twisted the handle.
The pressure in the airlock blasted the hatch open. Briggs stumbled as the rush of air tried to push him out along with it, but he caught himself, his hands braced on either side of the opening. The rush petered out, and Briggs disappeared through the circular hole.
Alone now, Sharp took a deep breath to calm his nerves and made for the lander. He trusted Morales would have it ready to launch when he got there. Briggs was on his way to the cargo door and Sharp didn’t want him stuck out there waiting on them.
When Sharp reached the long corridor where the remaining lander was docked, the lights went out, plunging him into darkness. As his eyes adjusted to the dim glow trickling out of the open lander hatch, Arnold entered the far end of the corridor and floated over to him.
“Got the power shut off,” Arnold reported as they ducked into the lander.
Morales peeked over her shoulder as they entered, barely acknowledging them before returning her attention to the control panel. Sharp pulled the hatch closed and clamped it tight, trying not to think of the five-hundred-year-old seal that would soon be the only thing separating them from the vacuum of space.
“You ready to go, Ensign?” Sharp asked.
“I’ve been ready. I was waiting on you two, you sure took your sweet ass time.” The lander module jerked as she released the docking clamps. “Better strap in. Things might get a little bumpy.”
Sharp settled into the seat next to her and fastened his harness. The wide arch of the aft warp ring filled the tiny viewport in front of him. Morales rolled the craft and the central hull of the Pescado Rojo came into view. The dark ship was barely visible, only a shapeless mass blocking out the distant stars. Morales flipped on the lander’s spotlights. A long gray gash of exposed metal glinted on the hull where the Endurance had smashed into it. Sharp looked over at her, and she returned his gaze with a frown. “Sorry,” she apologized.
“That’s coming out of your pay,” Sharp joked, shrugging it off. The gash didn’t appear to be very deep, and more importantly, there were no jets of escaping atmosphere, the telltale sign of a hull breach. He suspected most of the damage to the Rojo would be internal, caused by the nuclear blast and its shock wave.
“Fair enough,” Morales replied, “but I expect some overtime pay for this mission.” She guided the module forward along the hull, the spotlights bathing the ruddy-brown metal in a ghostly glow. She swerved around the warp ring support pylon, and as they passed over the Dyson collector, Briggs came into view. The lights on his helmet illuminated his tiny form against the massive ship. He’d made it to the rear-facing door of cargo bay three and was busy working on getting it open.
As Morales brought the lander to a halt above the engineering section, its bright spotlights washed over Briggs. He put an arm up to shield his eyes from the blazing light cannons.
“Cut the lights, Morales,” Arnold barked. “You’re blinding the poor bastard.”
She quickly switched off the beams, and Briggs went back to work. A few moments later, the cargo door cracked open, creating a narrow gap at the bottom, but refusing to move any further. Briggs turned to them and put up his index finger, indicating he needed a moment longer. Squatting, he reached down to the bottom of the door and slipped his gloved hands into the slim opening. His body went rigid and the maneuvering jets on his EVA module sparked to life. He nearly lost his grip as the jets blasted him upward, but he held fast and corrected. Bit by bit, the door began to open.
The jets sputtered out. Sharp knew they were powered by the same precious oxygen Briggs needed in order to breathe, and he wouldn’t have much left after his stunt. Briggs released his grip on the door, and it dropped half the distance it had opened, leaving just enough room for him to slip under by laying down. As he slid under the door, his bulky life support module snagged on the bottom edge. He struggled for a moment before the module jerked free, and he disappeared.
Sharp clenched his jaw and dug his fingers into the armrests as they helplessly waited for Briggs to get the door open. He tried not to calculate how much air Briggs would have left after his little rocket man stunt. He attempted to clear his mind, but instead, it wandered. He imagined Briggs floating on the other side of the bay door, passed out from lack of oxygen. His macabre vision was wiped away as the door jerked upward. Briggs was still alive. The door stayed motionless for half a second before lurching up again.
He was using the manual crank to open the door, but it was slow going. At his current pace, Sharp worried Briggs would run out of air before the door was all the way up.
“Morales,” Sharp said, trying to conceal the tension in his voice, “don’t wait for the door to fully open. You get this bucket of bolts through that opening as soon as it’s wide enough, understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Morales replied as she edged the lander closer to the door. They waited anxiously, intently watching the gap grow bit by agonizing bit. The door jerked up once more. “Now,” she called out as she engaged the forward thrusters.
The nose of the lander disappeared into the darkness as it plunged through the gap. Just as Sharp’s eyes adjusted, the rear of the craft nicked the bottom of the door, sending them ricocheting into the bay floor. They skidded and rolled across the deck as the gravity plating took hold of them, finally coming to a rest just before smashing into the embryo containment unit in the center of the bay.
As soon as Sharp regained his senses, he ripped off his harness and jumped to the exit hatch, flinging it open recklessly. He dropped to the floor below and scanned the room. It was dark, only the red emergency lighting active. At the end of the bay, the glowing-blue energy field keeping the bay pressurized mingled with the red, creating an eerie-purplish haze. Beyond the field, an inky black rectangle, dotted with small points of white, peeked in through the half-open bay door.
He rushed toward the pale-purple glow, repeatedly calling out Briggs’ name as he ran. No answer came. Dim flashes of sparks from his damaged ship shown through the half-open door, illuminating a large dent in the bottom edge where the lander had smashed into it, but offering no sign of Briggs. Ignoring the damage, he made for the end of the door where the manual crank was located, being careful to keep a safe distance from the energy field.
As he neared the end, his heart sank. The motionless form of an EVA suit lay prone on the floor beyond the energy field, one hand still hooked over the crank, the blue-tinged hump of its life support module silhouetted against the dark void outside the bay door. Morales came up beside him, raising her hands to her mouth and gasping as she spo
tted Briggs’ limp body.
“I’m going through,” Sharp said calmly as he moved forward.
Arnold arrived just in time to catch him by the arm and jerk him backward. Sharp stumbled and fell hard onto his backside. “No you don’t,” Arnold said, looking down at him. “You’ve got to save the ship. I’ll save Briggs.” Before Sharp could react, Arnold exhaled completely then jumped through the energy field into the vacuum of space.
Sharp scrambled onto his feet and tried to follow Arnold into the void, but Morales darted in front of him, blocking his path. “No, Cap,” she pleaded. “It’s too dangerous. We can’t risk losing all three of you.” Knowing she was right, his shoulders slumped in defeat, and he watched as Arnold made his way toward Briggs’ limp form.
Arnold grabbed hold of his life support module and yanked Briggs backward. He didn’t budge, and Arnold stumbled to one knee, becoming unbalanced from the unexpected resistance. With considerable effort, he regained his feet and pulled tentatively at Briggs’ suit, trying to discover the source of the snag. Briggs’ hand was still poised on the crank, not so much as a testament to his devotion to getting the door open, but rather because his glove was wedged between the crossbars. Noticing this, Arnold released his hold on the suit and lunged for the crank, desperately trying to free the glove. Finally, it popped free, and Arnold dragged Briggs back through the energy field, collapsing onto the hard deck as soon as he was clear.
Morales went to his aid and rolled him over. Arnold’s chest heaved as he lay on his back, sucking in huge gulps of the precious air, trying to catch his breath. “He’s ice cold, but I think he’ll be okay,” Morales reported as she felt his forehead.
Sharp knelt next to Briggs’ lifeless body and reached for the latch on his helmet. It hissed as the seal was broken, sucking in oxygen from the cargo bay. Sharp pulled the helmet free and grief washed over him as he looked down at his crewmate. His damp brown hair was pasted over his brow, contrasting with the unnatural blue tinge of his skin. His eyes were shut and his mouth hung agape as if deep in a peaceful slumber.
Sharp delicately cradled Briggs’ head and lowered his ear to his mouth. His despair deepened as he found no sign of breath. Partially in desperation and partly to stifle the wail of agony threatening to escape his throat, Sharp pressed his mouth over Briggs’ purple lips and breathed out, pushing precious oxygen into his inert lungs. Sharp pulled away and the air rushed out, but Briggs didn’t inhale. He pushed another breath into him. Still, nothing. Sharp was losing hope. Holding back tears, he breathed in again.
Briggs body convulsed in Sharp’s arms, and a cough erupted into his mouth as Briggs began breathing on his own. Sharp recoiled, spitting on the floor and wiping the excess saliva with the back of his sleeve. Briggs’ eyes squinted open, and he licked his lips. “Thanks, Cap, I love you too,” he joked between rasping breaths.
Sharp half laughed and half shrieked as he hugged his friend. It was a miracle no one had died. Against all odds, they’d escaped from the Endurance and made it back to the Pescado Rojo. Sharp was relieved to be back on his ship, but he knew there was still a fight ahead of them.
He stood and looked past the crashed lander, eying the embryo containment unit strapped down in the middle of his cargo bay. He started toward it. It was time to take back his ship.
16
Home
Cormac poked at her unresponsive console. The bridge had gone dark, save for the soft red glow of the emergency lighting. The view screen was dead. The controls were dead. Whatever Sharp had done to drop them out of warp had also knocked out main power.
She heard a stirring behind her. Pierce groaned as he raised himself off the floor. He’d been thrown from the command station when the shock wave had rocked through the ship.
“What happened?” he asked, lifting his hand to the trickle of blood running down his cheek.
She stood and moved to the command console. “There was an explosion,” she answered as she punched at the dead controls. “We’ve lost main power.”
Pierce slumped into the side console jump seat, holding pressure on his wounded temple. He looked around in a sudden realization. “We are out of warp?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “Dropped out after the explosion.”
He slammed his hand into the dark screen next to him. The glass shattered and collapsed inward. “What caused the explosion?” he yelled.
“I don’t know, all the controls are dead. Your guess is as good as mine,” she said while thinking to herself it had to have been Sharp.
Pierce didn’t appear to accept the answer and opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off as Commander Thompson entered the bridge. “Sir, we’re hearing noises from cargo bay three, but we can’t get the door open to investigate.”
Pierce spun to face Cormac, his eyes digging into her. “Sharp. Where is he?” he demanded.
She leaned away from him and shook her head. “Couldn’t tell ya. Last time I saw him, he was on the Endurance.”
Pierce yanked the device out of its holster on his belt and vigorously tapped its buttons. It was unresponsive. He howled in frustration and hurled the device across the bridge. It hit the wall and shattered, sending fragments careening in all directions. He grabbed Cormac roughly by the arm and dragged her off the bridge. Thompson scurried after them, trying to keep up.
When they arrived in the cargo corridor, Baker and Daniels were struggling with the door to bay three. Pierce pulled Cormac forward and released her, sending her stumbling into the wall. Alice stood nearby, watching the men work, and caught her before she fell. She helped Cormac back to her feet.
“Report,” Pierce yelled at the two men.
Baker turned to Pierce. “I heard a loud crash inside the bay not long after the explosion, and then couldn’t get the door open to check it out.”
Pierce scowled. “Sharp, I know it is.”
“But, Sir,” Daniels cut in, “that’s impossible. He’s in stasis back on the Endurance. I watched Thompson put him under.”
Pierce slowly turned to Thompson. Thompson stared down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. “Commander?” Pierce questioned.
“Yes, Sir,” Thompson replied, still averting his eyes.
“You put them in stasis, correct?”
“Uh… yes. Of course, Sir. Just like you… uh… ordered me to,” Thomson said, rambling.
Pierce’s eyes narrowed further. “Then can you explain how they got into this cargo bay?”
Thompson twisted uncomfortably. “Well, Sir,” he paused, choosing his words carefully. “I did put them into cryostasis, but I didn’t want them to be stuck in there, conscious, like we were. It was so horrible, Sir. I wouldn’t wish that nightmare on anyone. So, I set the chambers to revive them after a couple hours. I figured we’d be long gone by then, Sir.”
Pierce was quiet as he glared at Thompson. His nostrils flared as he breathed in and out. A fire of rage smoldered behind his eyes. Everyone stopped what they were doing and fell silent, watching the two men.
“Sir, I—” Thompson began.
Pierce silenced him with a hard smack across the face. Thompson’s head twisted with the blow. He shrunk away, raising his hand to his reddening cheek. His eyes glistened as they became watery.
“Alice,” Pierce said, not turning away from Thompson, “take this traitor and confine him to quarters. I will deal with him later.”
Alice took Thompson gently by the arm and lead him out of the corridor. Pierce turned to Cormac. “Now, Commander, If they got into the cargo bay, then so can we.”
“Good luck,” she quipped. “That door is made of solid turbinium. It’ll take you hours to cut through.”
Pierce grinned at her. “We are not going through.”
She twisted her mouth in confusion. “Then how are you gonna get in?”
“We are going around. The same way Sharp got in.” He grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her out of the corridor. “Come on. We need four EVA suits.”
> ***
“Morales, bar the door. I don’t want anyone getting in.” Sharp ordered as he moved through the cargo bay toward the embryos. “You two, quit slacking and grab a couple grav-jacks,” he called to Arnold and Briggs, who sat on the floor recovering.
“Give me a minute. I just came back from the dead,” Briggs joked as he raised to his feet.
Sharp undid the straps holding the embryo containment unit to the floor. Arnold came up next to him, a grav-jack in tow. “What’s the plan, Cap?” he asked in a low serious tone.
Sharp turned to him. His eyes were hard. He was done playing around. “If Pierce wants these goddamn embryos so bad he can go and get ‘em.”
“Out the door then,” Arnold said, guessing the next step. “Should we turn on the decontamination field and scramble these little bastards?”
“No, we want them still viable. Pierce won’t go after them if they’re dead. They’ll act like bait for him, he’ll be too focused on saving them to worry about us.”
Briggs came up with another grav-jack. “Okay, Briggs, you get that end. Arnold, you’re on that end,” Sharp directed, pointing at the two opposite ends of the unit. They slid the grav-jacks under the unit and it raised off the floor, hovering a few centimeters above the deck.
A loud bang sounded through the bay. “Sir, they’re trying to get through the door,” Morales yelled from the side of the room.
“Hold the door. Don’t let anyone get through,” Sharp called back to her.
She held her meager weight against the handle, stopping it from turning as she looked around for something to pile against the door. The handle jerked from her hands as someone yanked it from the other side. “Cap, help! I can’t hold it,” she yelled.
“Briggs, go help her. Arnold and I got this.”
Sharp took control of the grav-jack as Briggs sprinted off to help Morales. He watched as Briggs grabbed another jack and rammed it into the door, knocking Morales out of the way and slamming it shut. The jack suctioned to the floor with a thwomp as Briggs activated the magnetic brake. The handle on the door unlatched but was blocked from swinging open by the jack locked to the deck in front of it.
