“So let’s have the Kardish think we’re dead. We’ll push off from the racer, blow her up, and at that moment of distraction, we turn on the cloak. We disappear in a ball of fire. Bing, bang, boom—we’re gone.”
“And what’s the collection of cutlery for?” asked Juice.
“When the racer explodes, there will be a natural cloud of fragments. We’ll fire shrapnel at the Kardish during the explosion. If we do it right, the shrapnel will appear to be a result of our disintegration. With luck, they’ll be hitting their vessel at the same time we land.”
Juice nodded. “So the impact from our landing grapple will get mixed in with the pitter-patter of falling forks.” She reached out and rubbed his arm. “Very creative.”
* * *
Criss embraced the spirit of Sid’s idea but redesigned the implementation. Juice was assigned those duties that could be performed from inside the scout. Sid donned the space coveralls and took up station in the Lucky Lady. Criss kept them hustling as he directed them through long to-do lists, feeling he was achieving success in being a patient but demanding taskmaster.
Criss used the dots the two were wearing to help them understand his version of the plan. He showed Juice what a good fragment looked like. As she scavenged items, he guided her on how to cut some of the larger pieces into appropriate sizes and shapes. He had her stack these into piles outside the hatch so Sid could load them into the launcher in the proper order when he was ready.
At Criss’s direction, she opened a row of wall plates and pulled out a long, flexible hose that brought drinking water to the exercise room. She drained it, coiled it, and carried it down to the hatch where she connected one end to an outlet on the wall and arranged the remainder in neatly stacked loops near the hatch door.
Following Criss’s instructions with care, she prepared the explosive mixture they would be feeding through the tube. For safety, Criss’s recipe created it as two separate chemicals that would flow individually out to the racer. Neither was explosive by itself. When combined in the propellant tanks of the Lucky Lady, the mixture would become a potent and spectacular pyrotechnic.
Inside the racer, Criss maintained an ongoing dialogue with Sid as he pulled down every wall plate from inside the cockpit and the life support area behind it. Guided by Criss, he tiled the pieces together to form a cylinder centered directly under the docking ring. Using multiple rolls of fiber tape, he wound loop after loop around the outside of the plates. The first roll worked to hold the wall plates in position. The rest gave necessary structural strength to the assembly.
He fitted a washbowl pulled from one of the scout’s crew cabins into the base of the makeshift cylinder. The bowl material was strong enough to withstand the pressure of an explosion, and its shape would direct the discharge as the fragments were propelled upward. Criss’s creation wasn’t a cannon as Sid imagined it, but it was well designed to launch a collection of objects out through the racer’s docking ring.
Sid next worked on loading the launcher for business. He cut a demolition square into small pieces and followed Criss’s guidance as he arranged them in a pattern inside the bowl. After checking with Juice that it was all clear, he opened the hatch and retrieved the fragment piles. Criss showed him how to arrange the pieces inside the bowl for maximum effect. Criss remained silent while Sid picked out the mallet from one of the fragment piles and set it aside, leaving it inside the scout.
With the fragment launcher completed, Sid grasped the end of the hose Juice positioned for him. Pulling it gently to avoid snags, he wormed his way behind the racer’s cockpit, paused to snap the safety tether to the loop on his coveralls, then floated out the access hatch. Coils of hose floated behind him.
Gaining access to the fill spout of the propellant tank proved to be more challenging than either he or Criss had anticipated. After a session of swearing, grunting, and more swearing, Sid finally succeeded in forcing it open. He snaked the hose inside and held it while the two chemicals flowed, one after the other, into the tank. He dropped a trigger circuit inside, sealed the spout shut, and returned to the scout.
Before Sid closed the scout’s hatch, he picked up the mallet, studied the docking ring, and smacked the latch. The tab bent from the blow, but it moved. He smacked it a second time and it popped free. Like a cork in a bottle, the two ships were again held together only by friction. Carrying it like a boy with his toy, he brought the mallet with him when he returned to the scout’s bridge.
“How are we doing for time?” asked Juice as she took her seat.
Sid wanted an update as well. “Please step us through it, Criss.”
“The scout will pull away from the racer in a manner that causes it to rotate. After the two ships have gained sufficient separation and the racer is properly oriented, I will fire the fragment launcher and shoot our spoon shower at the Kardish vessel.”
Juice giggled at the “spoon shower” reference.
“I will immediately follow this with a detonation of the chemicals in the propellant tank. The sequence will be so close that it will all appear as a single event. The racer will be oriented at that point so almost all of the real fragments will travel away from us. There is some risk here. There is a small possibility that a random fragment will hit the scout and cause damage.
“Assuming the scout is unharmed, I will activate the cloak and the scout will appear to vanish when the flames are at their brightest. While still engulfed in flames, I will initiate a thrust burst that will send us on an intercept course with the Kardish vessel. We will arrive above the vessel hull at the same time the scrap storm reaches maximum intensity.”
This time both Sid and Juice laughed. Sid finished the plan. “And our grapple will sound like one of the impacts.”
Juice beamed. “Nice teamwork, guys.” After a pause, she asked, “So how do we get inside their vessel?”
“I have three ideas,” said Criss. “But we won’t be able to test any of them until we are attached to their hull. Our best hope is that our stealth communications link works as designed. If it does, we will coordinate with the crew of the Alliance and see if we can help them open a hatch from the inside. A second option is that we burrow through the rubbery outer layer and make firm contact with the surface of the hard hull. I may be able to connect through it to the subsystems of the Kardish vessel, override protocols, and open a hatch myself. The last idea is to entice the Kardish to come after us. They will have to open a hatch to do battle. We will then have a physical opening and can attempt to fight our way in.”
“I don’t like that third one at all,” said Juice, shaking her head. “Let’s do one of the first two.”
Sid and Juice engaged their seat restraints, ready for the performance to begin. Criss pulled the scout away from the racer, doing so in a fashion that caused it to turn end-over-end in a lazy spin. Sid brought up an image projection, and he and Juice watched as the Lucky Lady drifted away.
“Ten seconds,” said Criss.
Their eyes were glued to the image display as the nose of the racer rotated upward. “Here we go,” said Criss. It happened so quickly that neither Sid nor Juice saw it as individual events. They saw a brilliant flash and then the scout shook violently. The shaking passed quickly and transitioned into a brief pressure as the scout accelerated to become part of the projectile cloud that would provide cover as they approach and attach themselves to the Kardish vessel.
Criss spoke with urgency, “The cloak has engaged, but it is going to fail.”
“How can I help?” Sid asked.
“The shock wave has loosened a link where Juice connected the cloak to the main power unit. I cannot pinpoint the precise circuit, but something is not seated properly. We will lose the cloak in moments.”
Sid disengaged his seat restraints, jumped up, and ran toward the rear of the scout. He’d taken only a few steps when he saw his mallet hanging on a rail. He snatched it up and accelerated toward the operations compartment where Juice had been w
orking.
Stepping inside the small room, he ripped the plate off the wall, yanking it with such force that it flew out the door, bounced into the passageway, and started spinning. He was on his back, his head inside the partition, before the spinning stopped.
Both Criss and Juice viewed the connections and circuits through Sid’s dot. He reached up and fiddled with this and that.
“Could it be the central spline?” Juice asked.
Criss didn’t answer as he shifted ever more resources into identifying the failing circuit. He watched Sid wiggle bits and pieces as he struggled for a solution. And then a piece he touched caused a change Criss could detect. “It’s near there.”
Sid backed up in his progression and again jiggled the items he was working on. He was on his second jiggle when Criss said, “That’s it. That’s the problem piece.”
It was a small gray box. Sid pushed it, pulled it, and twisted it, hoping for an all good signal from Criss.
“Your efforts have not solved the issue,’ said Criss. “We are losing the cloak.”
Chapter 27
Juice felt responsible for the failing cloak. She held her breath as she watched Sid make blind attempts at an emergency repair. From her vantage point on the bridge, she did not see him reach down by his thigh and grab his mallet. She did see it, however, when he moved it into position beside his head.
“What are you doing?” she said with clear alarm. He didn’t respond.
The space inside the wall was so cramped that he could only use wrist motion. He cocked the mallet and thwacked the box, then pulled the mallet back, readying for a second attempt.
“That’s it,” said Criss. “We are cloaked. I believe we were visible for just a brief moment. The cloak appears to be stable now.”
Sid pulled himself out of the wall, jumped up, and shook his mallet in victory. “I am Thor,” he called as he walked back to the bridge. He stood in front of Juice and held the mallet at his hip. “Would you help me make a holster? I want to carry this baby with me all the time.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but sat in his chair, absently twirling it as he daydreamed.
Juice, who had been thinking that a hammer was a dubious tool for delicate circuit work, flashed on a few variations for a holster design as she watched Sid play with his toy.
“Update, Criss. How are we doing?” asked Sid.
“The cloak is holding. We are in the midst of the cloud of fragments. Our intercept trajectory is good. We should be firing our grapple in a few hours.”
Waiting is difficult, and doubly so during moments of tension, thought Juice.
Criss placed them on a course to approach the Kardish vessel from the rear and float above its surface as they drifted past the fins and over the hull. As planned, the scout was moving inside a cloud of fragments. These would be hitting the surface of the alien vessel as the scout traversed its length.
During the approach, Sid and Criss debated where to deploy the grapple. Criss, having viewed two decades of record of small craft entering and exiting the vessel, could pinpoint precisely where that hatch was located. Starting from the stern, they should travel two-thirds of the way down the Kardish vessel and then attach the scout.
“I make decisions that maximize my options when it comes time to make my next decision,” said Sid. “The place that keeps the most options open is the halfway mark. In a monster vessel like this, there have to be lots of hatches. Since we don’t know where the Alliance is, whether the crew is still with it, or what options they’ll have to help, the halfway point is where we’ll attach.”
When they reached the Kardish ship a few hours later and passed over the finned tail of the vessel, the immense, menacing view sidetracked the debate. Juice watched mesmerized as the black, featureless expanse of alien ship passed beneath them.
She sensed that Sid was about to order Criss to attach when a crack of light became visible through the vessel hull up ahead. Sid zoomed the image for a closer look.
A hatch was opening! Juice thought with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
“Criss,” said Sid. “I can’t tell how big that is. Can we fit through it?”
There was a pause as the hatch continued to open. “It is now wide enough to pass through safely.”
Sid tapped the operations bench, and when nothing happened, anger flashed in his eyes. “Give me the controls,” he commanded. “Now.”
Our first test of who’s in command, thought Juice.
Sid tapped the bench again and this time the scout responded. “We’re going in. Help me hit the sweet spot.”
“Perhaps we should move to the opposite side of the vessel,” said Criss. “It seems likely we are about to be attacked.”
“The best defense is a good offense,” Sid directed the ship toward the gap. “Here we go.” He swung the scout out to improve the angle and then swung back in the direction of the Kardish vessel.
Juice bounced in her seat as the scout started bucking. She double checked her restraints and looked at Sid, wondering if he really was as confident as his calm exterior seemed to project.
“Whoa,” said Sid. “Gale-force winds are blowing out of that thing.”
In fact, a steady stream of air was rushing out, forming a cloud outside the ship and then dissipating into the emptiness of space.
Sid aimed the scout straight into the turbulence at the hatch opening, and the unpredictable maelstrom of swirling air pushed it around like a toy bobbing on the ocean. Criss reacted fast enough to continually adjust their course as they passed through the violent eddies and currents, and his rapid-fire actions kept the scout from slamming into the hull of the larger vessel. The shaking became increasingly violent and then, suddenly, it was quiet. They were inside.
Juice surveyed the image projection of their surroundings with wonder. A huge open deck lay below them, and at a distance in front sat rows of cubicles. To the left was a solid wall. To the right was a sea of box-like structures.
Something shook the ship and Sid asked, “What’s going on, Criss?”
“We are in a gravity environment. I am slowing our descent.”
Sid looked at the displays on his bench. “Get us on the deck quickly and keep us near the hull. As soon as we touch, power down. Essential systems only.”
Juice held on tight, thankful that just seconds later, they were settled on the deck.
Criss shut down all nonessential operations, setting life support, communications, and other necessities to their lowest functioning level.
As minutes passed, Juice felt tension building inside her. She reacted to the silence. “This is too weird.” The quiet stretched out. “Are we still cloaked?”
“Yes,” said Criss.
“Where are they? Is anyone approaching?” she asked.
“The scout’s sensors are not designed for an enclosed environment and are of limited value in this setting,” said Criss. “I can report that there is no life in our immediate vicinity. But there are hangar doors open to the vacuum of space right above us, so that is not unexpected.”
After more minutes of quiet Criss said, “The hangar doors are closing. We still have time to slip through and escape. Otherwise, we will need to find a way to open the doors ourselves if we are to leave in the scout.”
Juice squirmed when she heard they would soon be trapped inside the Kardish vessel.
“We’re going to stay and play this out,” said Sid as he poked the operations bench. Looking at the different displays, he asked, “Why would they throw away all that air? It doesn’t make sense.” He continued his activity but seemed lost in thought. “Criss, in your review of the record, how often did you see the Kardish vent gas directly to space?”
“Never.”
“Any ideas?”
“It is a way to create a rapid decompression inside this section of the vessel.”
“Huh,” said Sid. He released his restraints, stood up, and stretched. He reached a hand out to Juice and motioned for her
to join him. Juice welcomed his strength and his presence. His example bolstered her resolve. I can do this, she told herself, taking a deep breath and standing up next to him.
“Let’s try that secure link thing that Juice built,” said Sid. “Let’s see if we can raise the Alliance.”
After several seconds, Criss said, “I can connect to the ship, but I am only receiving returns from automated subsystems. The crew does not respond.”
An image popped up above the operations bench. It was of poor quality and Juice squinted, trying to discern what they were seeing. It was like looking through fog.
“It is the Alliance,” said Criss. “The image is corrupted because portions of the ship have been heavily damaged.”
Sid studied the image, walking around to view it from different angles. “That’s the command bridge,” he said. “It looks like a war zone. Can you locate Cheryl or Jack? Or any of the crew?”
Criss cycled through a series of different views from inside the ship. Some images were so corrupted it was difficult to decipher what part of the ship they were looking at. With each view, they searched for signs of life.
“I have enhanced and analyzed everything I can recover from the Alliance. Their image record has been destroyed, so I can only see the present. I cannot locate any personnel, though there are several areas I cannot view because of equipment damage.”
Juice grasped Sid’s arm with both hands. She had been fighting to contain her emotions over the loss of Mick and Sheldon. This disturbing information started the battle anew in her head. She sought yet again the reassurance of physical contact. Sid wrapped both his arms around her and gave her a hug.
“We’ll find them and get them home,” he whispered to her. They stood together, lost in their own thoughts, then Sid announced, “I’m going out to explore.”
“The air pressure is rising,” Criss replied. “It won’t be long before one of you can exit without a suit.”
Sid bent down and picked up his mallet and toyed with it while he waited for the time to pass.
Crystal Deception Page 20
