by Jaleta Clegg
“Don’t push me.”
“Let’s look in those crates. Then we can try to figure out how to get out of this mess you got us into.”
“Me? Leon did it. And I thought you wanted to leave them sealed, Jerimon.”
“Leon had lots of your help. You didn’t have to activate the engines.” He pushed me against the wall, leaning past to hit the door controls.
I squirmed. He was too close. I backed into the cargo bay as the door opened. “What about the mess you got me into?”
“So we’re even.” He followed me inside. The door slid shut behind him. “Which one do you want to open first?”
I unhooked the net over the larger crates, deliberately putting space between us. He was even better looking when he was angry. “How about one of these?” I set one on the floor.
Jerimon unhooked the clipboard with the manifest sheet from the wall. “What number is it?”
I turned the box around until I found the label.
“Should be spare machinery parts,” he said as he checked the manifest.
“It’s heavy enough. I need something to cut the seal.” I rummaged through the tool locker.
“Do you want help with that?” He hung the clipboard back on the wall.
“I’ve got it.” I pulled a screwdriver from its slot, slamming the locker door shut as I turned back to the carton. Jerimon stood in my way. I tried to back up but I had nowhere to go. The cargo bay was too small. “You’ll have to move.”
“Where?” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
The ship lurched. I stumbled and fell right into Jerimon’s arms. I stared into his blue eyes, my heart racing. He had a funny look and I suddenly thought about kissing. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. I put my hands on the wall on either side of him and pushed. His arms tightened around me. The door slid open, spilling us into the cabin. Alarms buzzed. The engines whined.
“I think that’s an important noise, isn’t it? Something’s broken in the engine.” Worry wrinkled Leon’s face. He’d wriggled out from under the table and to his feet.
I said a bad word and scrambled for the cockpit, knocking him onto the bunk in my hurry.
Jerimon was right behind me as I dropped into the pilot’s seat. The control panel glowed solid yellow and red lights. I slammed my hands over the switches, working to shut down anything not essential to keeping us alive.
“I think we lost more than rear stabilizers.” Jerimon slid into the copilot’s seat, his hands moving calmly over the controls. “We have to drop out of hyperspace. The sublight engines are still functional. Hyperdrive stasis field is losing integrity.”
The ship shuddered heavily.
“We’ll be stranded. Unless you have some navigational skills up your sleeve.” I powered down the lights. Red emergency lights cast a weird glow over the cockpit.
“Are we going to die?” Leon hopped to the cockpit, the webbing still tangled around his legs.
Jerimon ignored him. “What else can we do? We drop into normal space and turn on the emergency beacon.”
“Can you guarantee who will pick it up first? Or have you forgotten the Sessimoniss who are looking for us?” I pulled out the headsets, handing one to him. “I’m going back to look at the engines.”
“What good is that going to do? You don’t know how to fix them. We’re both pilots.” He reached for the emergency abort.
I grabbed his hand. “I’ve got an assistant engineer rating. You touch that button and I will shoot you with Leon’s gun over and over.”
“And do what? Give me a nasty headache?” He moved his hand away from the button.
I let go and pulled on the headset. “If I wanted to do that, I’d hit you over the head with it.” I ducked out of the cockpit. The engine whine carried even through the two closed doors. I shoved Leon onto the bunk as I ran for the engine access behind the cargo bay.
The cargo bay door had shut automatically. I opened it and swore at what I saw inside. The cartons I’d unwebbed had fallen across the floor. Two of them were split open, spilling their contents. I slammed the button to shut the door.
“What?” Jerimon’s voice came over the headset.
“The cartons are open,” I answered as I picked my way through the mess to the engine room door. “Any way you can keep Leon occupied?”
“Is that his name? I’m already rather busy if you haven’t forgotten.”
The ship lurched. I slammed into the wall.
“How could I forget? Take a minute to tie him up at least.”
“What’s back there?”
“Guns. Blasters. Pretty nasty looking ones, too.”
Jerimon said the same bad words I’d said just a minute before.
“I’ll tie him up, there isn’t much I can do here right now anyway. Pressure’s dropping fast on the main line.”
I kicked the cartons out of my way, ignoring the weapons. If we lost pressure completely the engine would freeze; we’d be dumped into normal space with a very hot core. I’d done that once before and didn’t want to do it again, especially considering this ship didn’t have escape pods like my last one.
I crawled through the narrow hatch to the engine. It looked normal, except for the faint blue haze of smoke that hung in the air. A high whining vibrated through the ship. I inched my way around the engine. The ship was designed to be as small as possible. Access to the engine was restricted to a very narrow walkway down the left side. It wasn’t designed to have someone trying to repair it while it was running.
I made my way gingerly along the wall, examining the engine for damage. I heard Jerimon scaring Leon into behaving over the headset and had to grin. Jerimon wasn’t really that bad, except for his penchant for wanting to trust the Patrol. And the mess he’d gotten me into with the Sessimoniss, of course, but how much of that was really his fault? How was he to know that a rock was so important? Still, he shouldn’t have sold it. He should have given it back. He should have told me about it before I hired him. The scars on my shoulder itched. I decided I would continue to be mad at him after we got the engines running again.
I edged around the rear of the engine and found steaming fluids pulsing onto the floor from a split hose. Every breath tasted of burning plastics.
“Found the problem,” I said. I looked around for the emergency repair locker where spare parts and tools were stowed. The designers had done at least one thing right. The locker was next to me, located near the parts of the engine most likely to need repaired. I dug through the locker for a length of tubing and sealant tape.
“Leon’s tied back up and behaving. He doesn’t want you running him over again.”
“What do the gauges read?” I asked as I cut a length of tubing long enough to replace the leaking one.
“Which ones?”
“Coolant pressure and temperature.”
He read the numbers. They were bad, the pressure too low, the temperature much too high.
I stepped into the steaming mist while I pulled strips of tape loose, ready to use. “I want you to hold down the manual bypass.” I ducked the steaming fluid pumping out of the tube like blood out of an artery.
“Do you know how dangerous that is?”
“I’ll work fast.” I had the tube and the tape ready. “We don’t have a lot of choice, Jerimon. On three, hold it until I tell you to let go. One.”
“Are you sure, Dace?”
“Two.”
“Ready.”
“Three.” I waited a second until the fluid quit gushing. The engine whine climbed in pitch. I jerked the split hose off, jamming the tubing over one connector. Hot fluid ran over my hand. I ignored the burns and wrapped tape over the end of the tube. Something in the engine started to grind. The whole ship shook horribly. I slipped in the puddled fluids, banging my head against the wall. I scrambled to my feet then jammed the other end of the tubing to the spout. I wrapped tape as fast as I could. Smoke poured from the engine in a blue cloud.
“
Now!” I shouted into the headset. Fluid gushed through the tubing. A few drops welled around the tape, dripping sluggishly into the puddle already on the floor.
“Pressure is holding steady,” Jerimon said after a moment. “Core readings are rising. Seven-two-nine.”
“Blast. Hang on a minute.” I worked my way to the valves over the core.
“Seven-five-oh.” Jerimon sounded almost like he was reading a very boring recipe. If the core hit eighty, we’d have to dump it.
I was on the edge of panicking. I banged at the nearest valve. They were automatic, at least they were supposed to be. “The valves are stuck. Try resetting them.”
I waited a moment, listening to the engine shake and whine. Smoke wreathed through the air.
“Still rising. Up to seven-eight-four.” Jerimon’s voice was a bit strained.
I twisted the manual adjusters. Fluid gurgled through the pipes next to my ear. The housing under me ticked as it heated up.
“Six-eight-two and dropping,” Jerimon said, his voice calm again.
I adjusted the knobs over the valves, then waited. The engine whine faded slowly down the scale. The smoke thinned.
“Five-oh and still falling.”
I said a few choice words as I leaned into the engine. The pressure was falling too far. I tweaked a few valves.
“That help?”
“Back up to five-six-three,” Jerimon replied after a moment. We both waited. “Looks stable now at five-eight-eight.”
“Close enough.” The number wasn’t as high as it should have been, but it was high enough that we should make it to Tebros. I wriggled around to the locker to put the tubing and tape back away. “How does it look now?”
“We’ve still got yellow, lots of them, but the reds are gone. How does it look back there?”
“Still a few leaks, we’ll probably have to keep adjusting the core. The valves are jammed. Could have been worse.” I threaded my way back along the narrow walkway and into the cargo bay. “Got a minute to come pick up our cargo? It’s all over the floor.”
“How about we just lock the door?”
“I would, except there aren’t any locks. I really don’t want Leon in here getting ideas.”
“I’m coming.” He shut down the headset.
I flipped mine off then hung it on the wall next to the clipboard. I opened the door into the cabin. The burn on my hand throbbed. Blood trickled across my scalp and down my neck.
“You can’t keep me tied up like this,” Leon said the minute I stepped through the door. He lay on my bunk, trussed up like cargo.
I planted my hands on my hips and gave him my most ferocious glare. “The way I see it, Leon, you have three choices. You can either go out the airlock—”
“You can’t do that!”
“She can and she will.” Jerimon lounged in the cockpit doorway, looking completely relaxed as he examined his fingernails.
Leon twisted his head around to stare at Jerimon. “You’re the captain. You can stop her!”
“I ought to shove you out for that.” I took a step towards Leon, straightening the captain’s bars on my collar. “But I won’t because it would take too much effort. Your second option is to spend the next three days shut in the locker under the bunk.”
Leon didn’t say a word. His face paled, his watery eyes opened wide in fear.
I leaned over his prostrate form. “Your last option is to cooperate with us. You tell the Patrol that we were duped. We knew nothing of Belliff’s smuggling operations.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“You’ll get locked up for a while, yes, but at least you’ll still be alive.”
He nodded. “I don’t really know anything. And I can’t guarantee anyone will listen to me. But if that’s all you want, I’ll cooperate.”
“Good.” I straightened, turning my glare on Jerimon. “I should shove you out the airlock for getting me into this mess in the first place.”
“I wasn’t the one who signed on with Belliff.” Jerimon’s grin faded.
“No, you’re the one who started a war with the Sessimoniss. They attacked the Venturer. They were at Viya Station looking for us. They were shooting at the Patrol.”
“Who were shooting at us because of your stunt leaving the station!”
“I was the one with the gun who forced you to do it.” Leon said. We both glared at him. He tried to make himself smaller.
“We could have dealt with the Sessimoniss except now we’re running from the Patrol.” Jerimon scowled, his grin completely gone.
“We’ve got a good story. We’ll take Leon to them on Tebros.”
“Do you really think they’ll believe it? Any idiot can see Leon isn’t a threat to anything except himself.”
“What do you think the Patrol is going to do, jump in and protect us? They’ll most likely hand us over to the Sessimoniss with an apology for causing them any trouble.”
“Who are the Sessimoniss?” Leon asked.
“Because of you blasting your way out of Viya.”
“Did you really want to be caught in the Patrol raid?”
“I doubt the Patrol raided anything. What are you trying to hide, Dace? You were part of Belliff’s smuggling ring from the start.”
“I didn’t know anything about it until Leon pulled that gun on me. The Patrol wouldn’t have tried to shoot us down if you hadn’t decided to play hero.”
“What was I supposed to think? I woke up to find some guy with a gun standing over you in the cockpit.”
“So you decided to save the poor helpless female.”
“He had a gun on you. How was I supposed to know it was an excuse for a stunner? Next time I’ll just let you handle it by yourself.”
“Do that, please!” I turned to my locker. I banged the door open before remembering all of my clothes were still in the cleaner.
“You’re bleeding,” Jerimon said as I turned.
“I know.” I pulled clothes from the cleaner, throwing them into my locker. “I’m going to clean up. Keep an eye on Leon.”
“Is that an order, Captain?”
I slammed the door. “Is that the way you want it?”
“Are you going to threaten to shove me out the airlock, too?”
“Don’t push me. You know why I don’t want him loose on the ship.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll just sit out here and keep an eye on the prisoner.” He snapped a mock salute.
“Do that.” I shut the door of the bathroom in his face.
I stripped off my filthy suit then stepped into the shower. On such a small ship, artificial gravity couldn’t cope with running water. The shower was just a cubicle lined with nozzles that sprayed a very fine mist. The warmth soothed the ache in my head. I gently wiped blood from the gash on my scalp.
Why had I gone blasting out of Viya? It seemed the best choice at the time. Looking back, it was rather stupid. I didn’t trust the Patrol to believe me and I didn’t want to spend months in their custody. I didn’t think I could convince them I really didn’t know what was in the boxes in my cargo bay. Jerimon could probably convince them. He was, after all, just a hired pilot. That argument wouldn’t work for me. I was the captain, I was responsible for what happened on my ship.
The water shut off automatically. The nozzles blew warm air instead of mist.
What story could I tell on Tebros that the Patrol would accept? We had at least two crates of highly illegal blasters on board. Leon was much more convincing as a hijacker with that evidence handy.
The engines hiccuped. I froze, waiting for them to smooth out again. The ship shuddered slightly then resumed its more normal vibrations. I grabbed up my underwear and suit and got dressed.
I prodded at the cut on my head. Blood still trickled down my neck but it wasn’t serious. Another scar wouldn’t make much difference. The burns on my hand from the fluid were superficial. I gathered my boots from the floor, rinsing them in the sink. I left them in the corner t
o dry. I could handle it for a couple of hours, I hoped. I had a phobia about being barefoot. I picked up my dirty suit from the floor then opened the door.
Chapter Five
Leon lay on my bunk, wrapped head to toe in cargo nets. It would take him at least an hour just to work a hand free. I shoved the dirty suit into the cleaner, ignoring his wary stare. Jerimon slouched in the cockpit, watching dials. I sat at the table and punched up the dispenser menu. I stared at the short list for a minute, then thumped the machine on the side.
“Why are the only things available chicken soup and fish curry?” I said.
“Because that’s all Tebros would give me,” Jerimon answered. “Some screw-up in their ordering system. Everything else has already been eaten. We didn’t have time for supplies at Viya.”
“I think the universe hates me. I can’t stand either.”
“I like curry,” Leon said tentatively.
“Give me one good reason why I should feed you.” I hit the button for the chicken soup. It was better than fish, but not by much.
“Because I’m hungry,” Leon said.
“Because you’re not really sadistic,” Jerimon added. “Temperature’s fluctuating again.”
“How bad?”
He gave me the numbers. It wasn’t serious yet, but I’d have to adjust the valves soon. The dispenser beeped, delivering reconstituted chicken soup with a package of smashed crackers on the side. I pulled a face as I found a spoon. Leon watched me eat, trying to look pitiful and succeeding.
“Tell you what, Leon.” I spooned up one of the shapeless lumps that vaguely resembled chicken. It wobbled. “You testify against Belliff, getting charges against me and Jerimon dropped, and I’ll feed you. We won’t say anything about you and a gun and Viya Station. Agreed?”
“Will you untie me?”
“Only to eat. I don’t trust you, Leon. Not yet.” He sighed. “I agree. Although I’m going to end up in prison for the rest of my life. How am I going to explain to my wife?”
“You should have thought of that before hijacking my ship.” I finished eating the soup. I leaned over Leon, wagging my finger in his face. “You double cross me in any way, and you’re going to wish I had shoved you out of the airlock. Got it?”
