There was a tablet on the wall, mounted on a bracket. I floated over to it, and it turned on before I touched it.
“That’s interesting,” I said to myself, more to fight the feeling of being alone on the derelict station than anything. “If it turns on by itself, that’s by design. It wants you to see it.” I grabbed it, sliding it from its perch on the wall.
“Dea...wher...stati...theo…” A series of words cut in and out of my earpiece, startling me. I dropped the tablet, but instead of falling to the ground, it floated beside me.
“Mary!” I called back. “We have to join the pieces. We’re each in one of the three. We need to drag them together.” I prayed she’d hear me, but there was no reply. I kept talking for a few minutes, then waited another five for an answer, but the connection was lost.
Focusing my attention back on the task at hand, I looked at the tablet. The symbol for the Theos appeared on it, glowing blue. If I hadn’t found the hint at the map station, this was the failsafe clue.
The image swirled, melting into a finished picture of what the station looked like intact. My guess had to be right. There was only one way to accomplish this, and I was going to test my theory. I held on to the tablet and raced back down the long corridor, casting my glance toward the other section, where either Mary or Slate was trapped right now. It flew by in a blur as I kept pushing myself, floating quickly toward the hangar.
Soon I was back inside the large, open ship-lined storage box, looking for supplies. I hadn’t walked in the center of the room, and that was where I spotted what I needed. The mechanics area sat there, right in the middle of the action. From here, a mechanic could get to any corner of the room in a matter of seconds if they hustled. Spare parts lined shelving units and, as I hoped, there was a tow rope coiled up on a hook beside a desk.
I tested the dexterity of the line, unsure of the material, and found it oddly familiar to the ones we’d attached to the Kraski vessels after the Event. It turned out to be three lines, and after unwinding them, I measured them to be about a hundred yards each. They’d have to work. Now the test became attaching them to my station. I didn’t relish the idea of going for a space walk, but I knew I needed to. My pulse sped up at the thought, and beads of sweat dripped down my face, fogging the clear mask momentarily before the built-in filtration released some cool oxygen, dissipating the condensation. I could do this.
First, I needed to get off the station. From my point of view, there were two places to do that: from the far room where I’d just found the tablet, and from the hatch above, where the fleet would be able to exit the station. The blue energy field had to be a containment field. It would keep the deadly vacuum of space out but allow an object to travel through it.
The ropes had clamps on them and would let me connect to a hook or handhold outside. Without overthinking it, I strapped one of them around my waist and carried the other two on my shoulder. I wound my way across the room, between dozens of pyramid ships, and made it back to the computer screen, where I knew I could open the hatch to space. With a few taps, the room was vibrating again as the large slabs slid open, revealing open space.
Grabbing a nearby shelf, I pulled myself to the ground so my feet touched down on the metallic floor. For a mechanic’s shop, the area was spotless, and I wondered again if this place was ever used, or was just a testing facility for the Theos.
Bending my knees, I lowered myself and pushed with all my strength, floating up toward the ceiling. I stretched my arms out, realizing my aim was off just enough to set my mind into a panic. If I missed my target, I’d fly out of the station, with no way to stop once I crossed the barrier into space.
My arms flailed as I attempted to adjust my trajectory. Even though I was moving slowly enough to see it all coming, it was almost worse because I had more time to think about the outcome if I missed catching the edge. As the barrier neared, I flopped my body, my back now facing the ground and my fingers stretched to their limit.
My grasping hands hit the edge, seeking something to grab on to. The momentum caused my legs to swing out through the energy field, but I had a firm hold, so my body bent at the waist. My breath came fast and ragged as I struggled to keep a grip; the energy of the containment field sent a constant light jolt over my lower half. My legs twitched as I struggled to pull them back into the station, but after a stressful moment, I was able to calm down.
I moved away from the energy field, looking for a spot to attach my rope. I quickly found a manual handle lever for the bay doors, and I clamped an end to it, tugging it to make sure the connection was solid. After triple-checking it was firmly clasped to my suit, I moved back toward the exit, craning my neck to see the closest station piece, which would play the middle of the station once all three were connected.
I couldn’t tell how far away it was, but it seemed much farther than I could reach with these paltry ropes, even if I could get my trajectory right. I was confident I could find a spot to attach one to, but the trick was going to be arranging them so that I could grab them using a pyramid ship.
“Worry about that afterwards,” I said to myself.
I ensured my pulse rifle was firmly secured and shook my head back and forth, giving my brain a quick reset. I could do this. I wasn’t afraid of being in space. I’d be back home soon, and all of this would be behind us.
Not entirely convinced, I took a deep breath, exhaling through the strange Theos-designed filter mask, and pulled out through the containment field, the energy tingling through my body as I entered it.
I was out of the station. The EVA had a built-in temperature adjuster, and I didn’t even notice the cold, nor had I when I’d been inside. I hoped they also had radiation protection. For all I knew, I was being blasted with some serious rads.
Pushing the concern to the back of my mind, I focused. When my foot touched the outer metal wall of the station, it pulled down, sticking to the surface. This was new.
“A built-in magboot. That’s cool.” I stepped down with the other foot, and it pulled toward the flat veneer. With a little effort, I lifted my left leg up, breaking the tension seal, and stepped forward. I repeated it, like a toddler first learning to walk. Soon I had a system, and I was walking along the outside of the station, a man on a mission.
The hangar went on for a way, and when I made it to the edge, I decided that would be far enough to attach one of the ropes. Before I went any further, I took a moment to look around. From my vantage point, the water planet beyond was staring straight at me. It was mesmerizing to watch as immense soft white clouds swirled in a dance.
With a tilt of my head, I scanned over to the station piece nearest me and swore I could see someone in the window of the closest section’s corridor. From this distance, there was no way to see anything more than a dark outline.
“Mary. Slate. Come in.” I had to give it a chance.
“Dean?” A feminine reply came through crystal-clear.
“Mary? Oh, thank God.” My whole body tensed up in excitement at hearing my wife’s voice.
“Where are you?” she asked, her voice choking up instantly. I could picture her eyes welling up and her chin quivering just slightly, like it always did when she was caught off-guard with emotion.
“I’m outside.”
“Outside? Are you on the planet?” she asked, the first word a shout.
“No. I’m walking on this hunk of busted-up space station. I’m on the one farthest from the star. Which one are you on?”
A pause. My stomach dropped, thinking I’d lost the connection. Just as I was about to repeat my question, she answered, “I’m in the middle. I think I can see you!” The excitement was back in her voice.
“Do you know what it is we’re doing?” I asked, hoping she’d figured it out.
“Making the station whole again?” She asked it like a question that didn't need to be answered. “Just how are you thinking of doing that?”
“You first,” I said, curious to hear her pla
n.
“I was going to wait for Slate to figure it out and do it for us,” she said, and I laughed. It felt like a while since I’d smiled like that, and my cheeks hurt.
“Good plan.” I could see her now in the corridor window, and she waved at me. I waved back, a tiny stick man waving a stick arm.
“Seriously, though? I was going to get into a ship and try to find you. What was your plan?”
“I’m out here attaching some heavy-duty tow ropes so I can latch on to it with a modified ship, and then I was going to drag it over to your section. From there, we’ll have to set it in place. At this angle, I can see how they would fit together.”
The corners of the hangar section stuck out in a V shape, and the whole square had a lip a yard tall. I got this view as I leaned forward, looking around the side of the space I was standing on. They couldn’t connect where the hangar doors opened. I realized it wouldn’t matter who was the top and who was the bottom. Their symbol could be flipped, and it would still look the same.
“I love it. Do you know how to fly one of them yet?” she asked.
I laughed again. “I’ve been a little too busy to learn. Let me guess, you’re self-taught?”
“Best damned pilot in the system. Or maybe the tablet with the clues on it had a training video.”
“You have to be kidding me. I didn’t get that far.” I’d been so preoccupied with getting here, I hadn’t taken the time to see if the tablet held any other secrets. Evidently, it did.
“Why can’t we talk with Slate?”
“I’m thinking there’s a block when two of us are inside, or maybe he’s too far away. I really can’t tell you for sure,” I replied.
“Should I get outside and try to reach him?”
I pondered it for a moment. “I’ll set up the ropes, then we can decide.” With one rope clamped down, I made the slow walk around the perimeter, making sure to keep one foot magnetically locked onto the metal station’s outer shell.
“Dean,” Mary said with a lingering question that didn’t come.
“Yes?” I attached the clasp at the end of the rope to the other corner. I now had a loop I could catch. It reminded me of the wire on the back of a cheap painting. I just needed to attach the nail to the bottom of the small pyramid ship, if necessary.
“Are we going to get through this okay?” Her energy sounded wilted. The wide-eyed, excited Mary at the start of this quest was giving way to the exhausted, upset Mary. I was right beside her in that feeling.
“I think so. Look how far we’ve come in…what? Two days?” I honestly had no idea how long we’d been gone from New Spero.
“This place. The isolation…it had me thinking. I couldn’t live without you. At first, not being able to contact you…”
“I know, babe. We’re in this together. All of it. Not just this crazy mission, but life.” I stood still, watching the station Mary was floating inside, wishing I was there with her to hold her, to kiss her neck and smooth her hair while her breath caressed my cheek.
“I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I don’t know what came over me. I got so excited, but right now, I just want to be home. At our farmhouse outside Terran One, not Earth. I miss it.”
Mary typically wasn’t so open about her feelings. I knew she loved me, but no one would ever call her sappy. “I do too. We’ll be home soon, then we can relax. I know we keep saying it, but I mean it this time. We can tell Sarlun and the Gatekeepers we need a break.”
“What about the Unwinding?”
“What about it? When did that message even come from? A thousand years ago? Longer?” I made my way back toward the containment field.
“Maybe it explains the outer reaches you saw emptied. The world where you and Slate met Suma could have evacuated because of this Unwinding.”
“They could have left for any number of reasons. Speculating won’t help us get home. I’m heading back inside. Can you help me fly one of these things?” I used my first rope and pulled on it, through the energy field one more time and into the station.
“I can. Then you can pull that hunk of junk over here, and we can get one part done. If I know Slate, he’ll either have this solved or he’s currently shooting something on his station.”
I unclasped my anchor rope and pushed against the ceiling, heading back down to the ground at a medium pace, feet first. It was time to fly out of here.
“I’m getting in,” I said, looking for a handle.
“Dean…” Mary’s voice trembled slightly.
“What is it?” I quickly asked.
“We’re not alone. A ship just arrived.”
Twenty-One
The ship that arrived wasn’t much more than a dot, and I was surprised Mary could even make it out from her window. But she was right. Mary had explained how the tutorial on the tablet worked, and in ten minutes, I felt confident enough to have a passing ability at maneuvering this small pyramid ship from point A to point B. The tricky part was seeing if the ropes would hold, and lining up the landing gear to snag the floating tether.
“Are we pretending it doesn’t exist?” Mary asked. She was concerned with the visitor.
“Like I said, it might be them.” I didn’t have to say who “they” were. “This could be it. The final countdown. Let’s get the task done and move on.”
“There are five sections before their homeworld. They said to follow the map. The cube map had five symbols before theirs.”
I was hovering in the ship, just about to exit the station, and I bumped the ceiling lightly as I tried to make it to the containment field unscathed. “Damn it!” I said, louder than I planned. With both our hangar doors open, we were still able to communicate. There was still no sign from Slate.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I let her conversation slide and lifted out of the station. The inside of the ship was abnormal. I’d flown the landers on New Spero a few times, but this was nothing like them.
I was lying down, totally enclosed in the ship, with no viewports. A large screen was above my face, displaying all angles of the ship outside. The forward view was centered on the viewscreen, the side and rears on the edges. It was confusing at first, but I guessed by the time you were used to it, it was effective. The controls were in a strange spot, and I wondered what the biology of the native users was like.
My hands already wanted to cramp as I adjusted the thrusters and direction, each independently, on opposite sides of the cockpit. I narrowly managed to avoid clipping the hangar roof as I slowly urged the ship closer to the hanging rope loop. I felt the ship tug at the rope as the landing feet passed over it, but it slid free.
“I missed the first run. Why am I doing this again?” I asked, half joking.
“Good question. It seemed to make the most sense, but now that you mention it…” She let the jab go without finishing it.
I spun the ship around and tried again. After missing it for seven straight attempts, I was ready to give up.
“One more time,” Mary said calmly. I closed my eyes and took a breath, lowering down from my previous positions. The rope hung in space, like that wire from the back of the painting, and this time, I ran the front of the ship into it, letting it slip underneath. My ship jarred as it pulled tight.
“Got it!” I called, getting prematurely excited. I still didn’t know if this little thing had enough juice to get the station moving. If I went out and tried to push the station with my arms, I would just float away. But the thrusters acted as my forward energy, and when I fired them up, the ship pulled on the rope, which carried the station with it. “It’s working.”
I moved slowly, because stopping it at the other end would be a hell of a task if I raced over there. I inched along, sweating more with each passing second inside the cramped cockpit.
“Steady.” Mary repeated the phrase a few times. As I neared, I saw her form on the viewscreen, standing locked onto her station hangar roof, wearing the thin EVA. She was tethered securely in cas
e something went wrong.
Moving along at a turtle’s speed, the station followed me, and soon I was cutting the thrusters entirely, letting the inertia carry us forward. I had to line up the sides, where they would fit together. Her end was the plug, and mine the receptacle. We just had to time it perfectly.
“Dean, I don’t want to alarm you, but our new friend is moving,” Mary said, her voice under control. She didn’t want to panic me.
“Is it coming toward us?” I looked at my viewscreen, checking the side and rear views. None of them showed the recently-arrived ship. It was still out of my proximity. These ships weren’t equipped with any long-range sensors, but they did have weapons, which the quick tutorial didn’t detail.
“It was, but it looks like it’s taking the long way around. It’s still far enough away.”
“But close enough for you to have a visual. That’s closer than I’d like.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just finish the task. You need to pull down a few degrees. We have to do this by eyeball, so stick to the plan.”
Our plan was relying on my brain’s spatial mapping skills, which didn’t fill me with confidence. But I had no choice. It was either crash this thing and end up stuck here with no food and water while waiting for our friend to destroy us, or I land the pieces together, and we move on to work with Slate and get out of here.
I tilted the stick while giving the slightest thrust from my left side. This gave the desired effect, and the prongs rubbed against Mary’s middle station piece just enough to cause her to cry out.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“I’m fine. Just about lost my footing. You’re there!” she said, and I could make out her peeking head on the side viewscreen feed.
The Ancients (The Survivors Book Four) Page 15
