by M. D. Cooper
Fred answered, like clockwork.
The scuffling sounds Tim had heard earlier repeated far down the tunnel.
He didn’t stop checking the suits.
Fran came back over the Link.
Andy paused.
Lyssa watched Andy try to control his adrenaline spike.
Andy pulled down the suit with active panel lights. “Tim,” he said. “Come here. We need to get you into this suit.”
“I think Em’s asleep.”
“Set him down.”
Fred’s voice slid against the Lyssa’s barrier.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
STELLAR DATE: 09.14.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Mars 1 Guard Sector 985 Garrison
REGION: Mars 1 Ring, Mars Protectorate, InnerSol
Cara walked slowly and steadily across the open floor of the Mars 1 Guard shuttle bay. She stole a glance at a well-stocked tool chest a few meters away, admiring the gleaming wrenches and diagnostic sensors organized in neat rows.
Ahead, there were two shuttles facing the giant airlock gate. A mechanic was shoulder-deep in an open maintenance panel on the closest shuttle. Next to him sat a wheeled drone, handing up tools with long, articulated arms. As Cara got closer, she heard the mechanic whistling to herself.
A set of windows looked down on the bay floor. Cara glanced up as she walked, not seeing any movement from the officers above. She felt a bit more calm, but couldn’t stop her heart from hammering in her chest. She kept herself from looking back at the doorway where Petral was waiting. The woman had pushed her out into the open space with a serious expression but Cara couldn’t help feeling this was all a game to Petral. If Cara got caught, she didn’t trust that Petral would stay to help her.
The drone beeped and rotated a sensor toward Cara. The mechanic didn’t notice and instead waved a hand for another tool.
As Cara passed directly behind the M1G mechanic, she stopped, waiting to see what the drone was going to do. The sensor had continued to rotate, following Cara’s progress across the bay floor. It made musical tones the mechanic continued to ignore. She had a hard time splitting her attention between the drone, the bay door and the observation windows above, where she expected someone to appear and spot her any second.
Taking a deep breath, Cara kept walking. The second shuttle was fully in her view now, its side access door standing open. She could see the edge of a bench seat just inside the door. If the shuttle was anything like the one in Sunny Skies, it would probably hold six passengers, with two seats at the front for pilot and navigator.
Cara had nearly passed the rear of the first shuttle when she shifted her foot wrong on the deck and the sole of her shoe squeaked against the deck. She froze, looking back at the drone with its watchful sensor array. She couldn’t see Petral inside the door from her vantage.
Why hadn’t she followed the wall, staying away from the mechanic? Because this had seemed like the shortest route, and if she got caught, it wouldn’t seem like she was hiding anything. Cara mentally rehearsed the speech she’d prepared about being lost but always wanting to see the inside of a shuttle. Pretty weak story, she knew, but she was ready to try. It was the only option they had right now, and she knew—somewhere on another part of the ring—her dad and Tim were being chased by the Mars 1 Guard. This was easy compared to that, certainly.
Cara did her best not to let her mind run off on the thought of never seeing them again, of being trapped on M1R. Who would look out for her if not for Dad?
She wished she’d brought her pistol and vowed never to leave the ship again without it. Maybe never be without it again, period.
The mechanic cursed at something inside the access hatch. Cara allowed herself to relax and took another step toward the second shuttle. In another five steps she was up its short ramp and standing inside the main passenger compartment, where she found another mechanic asleep on the bench.
Cara jammed her fist against her mouth to stop from screaming.
The plump man was sprawled across the seat with one foot on the floor and an arm over his eyes. He didn’t make any sound as he slept.
Why hadn’t she thought of this? He was breathing evenly, round stomach rising and falling inside his tight coverall.
Standing as still as she could, Cara took stock of the shuttle’s interior and found everything else as she expected. The navigation control systems were online, though the displays were in sleep mode. Other indicators around the cabin showed normal operation. Everything was perfect except for the man sleeping on the bench.
Cara looked for something she could use to tie him up. The only loose object in the shuttle was a toolbox sitting on the deck next to the man’s head. It was closed so Cara couldn’t see what might be inside.
She was searching for the onboard first aid kit when she remembered to check the bay. Petral was moving slowly along the wall beneath the observation windows. The drone’s sensor array was still pointed at Cara. Petral was either outside its range or the drone had decided it specifically didn’t like Cara.
The mechanic working near the drone pushed herself out of the hatch and sat back on her haunches. She wiped her forehead and sat staring into the hatch like she was trying to work out some problem. From this side, Cara scanned her for weapons and spotted a small pistol on her utility belt. Her gaze slid to where Petral had been, but she had already moved beyond the observation windows out of Cara’s sight. She must be coming around the back of the second shuttle now.
“Kaylin!” the mechanic shouted.
Cara looked back at the man asleep on the bench beside her. He didn’t respond.
“Kaylin! Damnit, I need your help with this. Are you asleep again?” The woman made a disgusted sound and pushed to her feet, wiping her hands on her thighs. She didn’t look much older than Fran, with the same confidence in her shoulders. Cara pressed herself against the bulkhead just inside the door. She wondered if there was space between the navigator’s seat and the wall where she might squeeze down and hide. She slid in that direction.
The man on the bench sniffled. He lifted the arm off his eyes and wiped his face furiously. He rose on an elbow.
Cara took two more creeping steps along a cabinet until the navigator’s chair jabbed her side.
The man was still facing the back of the shuttle. He hadn’t looked around yet. Cara slid toward the floor, pushing herself against the base of the chair. She squeezed into a small gap between the chair’s mounting assembly and the bulkhead, not sure how much of her was really out of view. If she stayed still enough, maybe he would look over her head.
“Kaylin, you better wake up.”
“I’m awake!” the man said. He had a whiny voice. “Can’t you figure out a simple power flutter, Dina? The freakin’ drone could do it.”
“I fixed that an hour ago. There’s a seal on the rear exhaust heat exchanger that doesn’t want to seat.”
C
ara heard Dina’s footsteps stop just outside the door, then the shuttle shifted slightly as she mounted the steps and stuck her head inside the opening to look at her coworker, who still appeared as though he was ready to flop back down and ignore her.
“I swear, you’re the laziest chief I’ve ever worked for,” Dina said.
Cara suppressed a smile.
“I’m giving you ample opportunities for personal improvement,” Kaylin said.
“We need to get the shuttle up. We already ignored the call to quarters and you’re going to catch more hell for that then me.”
“Call to quarters? When?”
“About ten minutes ago. A fire in the barracks or something.”
“Those never amount to anything. It was probably a drill. The commander’s crazy about her drills.”
“This one was real. People were running all over the place.”
“Then why didn’t you leave?”
“Because you told me the commander wants her shuttle up and running.”
Kaylin fell back on the bench and rubbed his face again like the light hurt his eyes, or Dina was giving him a headache.
“This one’s up, isn’t it?”
Dina shook her head in exasperation. “This one’s got that environmental control problem. It won’t hold air, remember?”
Cara’s eyes went wide.
Kaylin chuckled. “This one won’t hold air. The other one won’t maintain burn. Can we smash them together and make one good one?”
“The commander won’t approve deadlining one ship to get another one green. I thought you said you were going to troubleshoot this one?”
“It’s a software thing, I already know it.”
Cara assumed ‘deadlining’ meant breaking one ship to fix another one. She wondered how bad the propulsion problem was? It didn’t matter right now.
“What?” Dina demanded abruptly. She fell forward into the shuttle cabin as if someone had shoved her and Petral appeared in the doorway with a heavy pistol in one hand. Kaylin immediately stumbled to his feet and flattened himself against the back wall. He put his hands up without being ordered.
“So this tub’s leaking, huh?” Petral said. She stepped up into the cabin and looked around. Her gaze found Cara and she smiled. “What else did they say, hacker trainee?”
Cara pushed herself out of the gap and used the chair to stand. “The other shuttle has a propulsion issue.”
Dina gaped at her. “Where did you come from?”
“She’s invisible,” Petral said. She pointed the pistol at Dina. “You, stay right there. Get up and I’ll put holes in you.” She switched the muzzle’s focus to Kaylin. “You, get out.”
Kaylin looked at Dina, hands still up near his ears. He shambled forward, keeping as much distance between himself and the weapon as possible.
When he was standing on the steps, Kaylin said, “I’ll get help, Sergeant Pierce.”
“No, you won’t,” Petral said. She shot him and the pulse wave passed through both calves before hitting the deck outside.
Kaylin screamed, crumbling against the side of the door. Petral kicked him the rest of the way out and Cara heard a dull thud and no further movement.
“Now,” she told Dina. “You get in the pilot’s seat.”
“I’m not a pilot,” the mechanic said, still lying on her stomach.
“Of course not. But I know you types. You can power this thing up and get it moving as good as anyone. We’re not going far. If you’re a good girl, you’ll be bringing your shuttle right back to this bay when we’re done.”
“Once it powers up, you won’t be able to override the AI,” Dina said.
“We’ll see about that.” She waved the pistol. “Let’s go. You’re starting to bore me.”
Cara wondered if the shuttle’s AI was sentient, like Lyssa, or if it was just a dumb NSAI. Those were impossible to reason with.
When Dina was settling into the pilot’s chair, Petral handed Cara the pistol. “You know how to fire one of these?” she asked.
Cara nodded. “But won’t it be biolocked? I heard military weapons are biolocked.”
Petral snorted. “Yeah, the good ones. Not the pistols they hand out to the grease monkeys.”
Petral gestured with the pistol again, and Cara took it in both hands. She kept it carefully pointed away from anyone in the shuttle.
“Not like that,” Petral scolded. “I want you to point at her. Did your dad tell you something ridiculous like ‘You kill it, you eat it?’ We’re not hunters, girl. We’re Operators. Come on, now.”
Cara swallowed and re-aimed the pistol, keeping the open sights centered on the back of Dina’s seat. The mechanic was showing obvious anxiety now, which didn’t lessen when Petral slid into the seat next to her and slapped her on the shoulder.
“When I tell you,” Petral instructed, “you start the power-up procedure. Not before. If you touch anything before I tell you, my protégé there is going to put a hole in your skull. Right, protégé?”
“Right,” Cara said.
“Good. Now.” Petral cracked her knuckles and activated the holodisplay. She moved easily past the generic M1G login screen and navigated quickly among menus. Cara glanced away at Dina, who was staring raptly at Petral’s hands, and when she looked back, the display was flashing a warning about disabling the onboard computer. Petral entered another code so quickly that Cara couldn’t read it, and the warning disappeared.
“There we go,” Petral said. She pointed at Dina. “Do your thing, mechanic.”
“My name is Sergeant Dina Pierce,” the mechanic said irritably.
“You trying to write your obituary? Otherwise I don’t care. Strap in.” Petral glanced back at Cara. “Strap in but keep a line of fire on her. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
STELLAR DATE: 09.14.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Mars 1 Port Authority Terminal 983-A4
REGION: Mars 1 Ring, Mars Protectorate, InnerSol
Andy stood in the airlock with Tim at his back. The lock’s inner door had closed behind them, and the outside one had opened on huge dark space, punctuated by pinpoint lights and streaks formed by ships moving away from the ring. A few larger freight haulers were braking on their approach to Mars 1, their engines flaring as brightly as Sol.
He stepped to the opening and peered out, keeping his breathing steady. Andy only had the oxygen currently in his suit. He would need to look for the scarlet flashes at the edge of his vision and the syrupy warmth of carbon dioxide poisoning.
“You there, Tim?” Andy’s breath frosted against the helmet’s face shield as he shouted so Tim could hear him. He reached back to grab Tim’s hand, then worked down the chest of his son’s suit until he found the tether linking their two harnesses. He checked the comm setting that would pass Tim’s voice through Sunny Skies to Andy’s Link. Another reason for Tim to use the charged suit.
Andy frowned, wishing he could have saved all the gear he’d bought for the dog. With only one tether in the locker, he didn’t have a good way to ensure Tim didn’t lose the dog, and he needed both his hands when Alice arrived.
It was strange hearing his son’s voice over the Link, like Tim’s innocence was finally over and he had entered the world of adults. Though he supposed jumping off the M1R as it whipped around Mars also qualified.
Tim grumbled and the dog’s whining came through the Link as well.
Andy said.
Andy was surprised when the AI answered,
Maybe it was the tired quality of Andy’s voice, but Fran’s voice nearly broke when she answered.
Out in the dark, Andy caught a flash of light that was closer than the distant ships. He squinted through the fogging faceshield until it flashed again, slighter larger the second time. It was Alice. Gradually, the drone’s blasts of steam propellant became visible and then its two red forward sensors. A blast of braking steam obscured the red lights and then Alice was bobbing in front of the airlock, jets maintaining its position relative to the station.
Andy said.
