The Dead Priest

by K A Bledsoe

  “Okay.”

  Quinn could see his sister visibly calming but long experience told him his mother was not.

  “Let’s get me into a suit, Quinn.”

  He nodded as he unbuckled and wondered why she was more worried than she let Allison believe.

  As they pulled his mother’s suit out of the engine room, she put it on without the inner layer.

  “What about this?” he asked, holding up the undergarment.

  “No time. I won’t be out there long enough to need it.”

  “Why isn’t there time?” Quinn felt his adrenaline go into overdrive. He grabbed his mother’s helmet before she could. “What aren’t you telling us?”

  “Give that here, Quinn.”

  “Not until you tell me. I get you not telling Alli, but I need to know. In case you don’t come back.” He was surprised at his own words, but the anxiety was mixing heavily with anger.

  His mother’s eyes snapped fire, but he stubbornly kept the helmet out of reach.

  “You are right. You need to know.” Lenore looked down at their floating feet for a breath then looked him straight in the eye. “Those mines sometimes explode with shrapnel designed to cut through not only suits but cables. It is possible he could be floating free, farther away every second, with his suit depressurizing rapidly. There is no way to know until I reach him.”

  Quinn nodded as he handed the helmet over, fear threatening to overwhelm him. He took a slow breath through his nose and out his mouth like his mother had been teaching him during her fighting training. He felt his mind settle as he turned his adrenaline into a useful tool.

  “Then I will prep the shuttle. In case I need to come after you both.”

  Through the helmet’s faceplate, Quinn could see his mother’s eyes widen. But they went almost instantly back to normal as she nodded.

  “Good idea. I hope it won’t be necessary. Those cables are tougher than they look.” She briefly gripped his shoulder. “And so is your father.”

  They both pulled themselves up the ladder and opened the hatch to the airlock.

  “Everything all right?”

  Quinn turned, startled that he hadn’t heard anyone coming, but then again, there were no footfalls in zero g.

  “Kurla, everything is fine. Please return to your cabin.”

  “I’ll take care of this, um, Captain.” He was proud he stopped himself from saying “Mom”. Since the hatch was open, she nodded and entered the airlock. Quinn secured it behind her and turned to Kurla.

  “Please, Ms. Plaad. We need to work. Please go back to your cabin.”

  “But I want to help,” she said.

  Any other time and Quinn would be happy to have that concerned face stare at his while working alongside him.

  “If I... if you are needed, we will let you know. Now I need to know you are safe.” He gently grasped her arm and lightly pushed her through the door to the lounge. “Strap in. That’s an order.”

  Kurla gave him a smile that was oddly respectful, then nodded and pushed her way through the other door.

  Quinn didn’t realize he was watching her until she turned back to grin at him right before heading into her cabin. He cleared his throat and went to tell Allison that he was going to prep the shuttle.

  Just in case.

  ***

  Lenore tried to settle her breathing as she stepped into the black nothingness, quickly turning so her eyes were on the ship. She had barely made it through this part of her training with the Xa’ti’al and never truly got over her fear. Without her implant, that fear was twice as hard to control, but the horrifying image of her husband possibly drifting farther and farther away with a depressurizing suit spurred her into action.

  The airlock had closed so she reached for the tether that Diarmin had secured. Giving it a tug, she realized it was still attached to the other end. Breathing a sigh of relief, she attached her own line to the cable itself, not the ring. She couldn’t take the time to walk there, she had to do her least favorite mode of travel, hand-over-hand.

  Grasping the secured line, she kept her face away from the void as she pulled herself along as fast as she dared. At the top of the yacht she paused, trying to see if she could spot Diarmin but with no lights working on the suit, it was next to impossible to see him. Grimly she kept pulling herself along.

  When she reached the first ring, she unhooked her line to attach it to the second one, but as she grabbed that cable, she nearly lost her own grip as it pulled toward her. Trying not to panic, she reeled it in. It didn’t take very long which wasn’t a good sign. She examined the end and it looked like it had been sliced clean through. That meant that it had been a shrapnel mine. Her stomach clenched and she again strained her eyes to find her husband.

  “Mom?”

  Allison’s voice in her helmet startled her, the reaction causing her to start drifting away from the ship. She pulled herself back down and planted her boots on the hull.

  “Mom! You haven’t checked in. Are you there? You are supposed to give running commentary.”

  Since Allison’s voice sounded like it was filling with anxiety again, Lenore tried to reassure her. Not easy when her own guts wanted to scream.

  “Sorry, Alli. I am here. I’m simply concentrating on doing my job. You know I don’t usually talk a lot during a mission.” She tried to chuckle, but it didn’t sound very comforting. Get Diarmin back, then she will be fine. We all will be. “Attaching second line now and heading to the third.”

  Lenore really didn’t want to, but she grabbed a protrusion on the ship and pulled her feet off. I am tethered, I am tethered. She kept up the chant and pushed herself toward the next handhold. It was the quickest way, but she didn’t have to like it.

  She reached and grabbed the handle, carefully sighted on the next and within sixty seconds, she was on the other side. Peering down she could vaguely make out a drifting line. Panic swelled in her, her mind imagining the worst despite the fact she kept telling herself it was probably the other half of the broken cable.

  “Heading down starboard side.” Lenore planted her feet and made her way to the third ring. Keeping her eyes firmly on her goal instead of looking around in a panic, she walked as fast as she dared. When she saw the ring, her breath came out in an explosion. First, for reaching the end of her cable and, second, for seeing that Diarmin’s third safety line was still attached to the ring. It was pulled taut which indicated a weight at the other end.

  “Alli. Do you have a fix?” Lenore grasped the loose line as she let her eyes slide along the one hopefully still attached to her husband.

  “I think so. There is something out there that seems to be maintaining the same distance almost directly to starboard.”

  “That makes sense. The cable seems to go up for me but since I am standing on the side of the ship, that would be starboard.”

  But Allison didn’t sound reassured. “The problem is that the heat signature is so faint that the computer goes back and forth on whether it is there or not.”

  “Don’t worry, Alli. The suit is probably keeping the computer from registering body heat.”

  “Come on, Mom. I can scan through walls and ship hulls; a single suit isn’t going to stop it.”

  A wry chuckle escaped Lenore. “You are right, my genius daughter.” She sobered. “But the point is that it does read heat so that means the suit hasn’t lost all atmosphere. I am going to reel him in now.”

  “Shuttle prepped and standing by,” came Quinn’s voice over the comm. “And by my count, we are out of safety lines so be careful.”

  Lenore tucked her foot under a handle so she wouldn’t be pulled off the hull as she pulled down on the cable. If there is still heat, Diarmin must still be alive so why didn’t he pull himself in? Is he unconscious? Lenore tried not to let her thoughts run away with any dire possibilities, which would cause her to yank too hard.

  Hand over hand she kept pulling, occasionally glancing up to see if she could spot
Diarmin. She felt it was taking far too long but a glance at her suit chronometer showed that she had been outside only fifteen minutes. She looked up again and could see a blot against the starry background. She switched her helmet light to a narrow, bright beam, and it lit up Diarmin’s suit.

  “I see him!” she said, wincing at the echo of the yell in her helmet. She pulled again but her foot slipped, and she felt her boots lose their magnetic grip. Fortunately, her line was at its limit so she only drifted about a meter. Keeping hold of Diarmin’s line, she grabbed her own to reset her boots onto the hull and continue pulling. She concentrated on her breathing, trying to ignore the sweat she could feel starting to drip down her temples.

  As the suit got closer, Lenore could see Diarmin’s hands. His left hand was holding his right arm and his right hand was pressed to his stomach. The faceplate didn’t seem to be damaged even though he was still too far away for her to see his face.

  When he was about eight meters away, she could see that his eyes were open, but so was his mouth, either showing the lack of oxygen or heat buildup inside the suit. That means the emergency supply was running out, or the suit had been compromised. Probably a tear or two which is why he is not moving his hands to help pull.

  Six meters.

  She started to breathe easier as a relieved smile crossed his face.

  Five meters.

  Without warning the line gave a twitch. Diarmin hadn’t moved that she noticed, but she could see his eyes widen as he looked at the line she was pulling on. There was an obvious split in the cable fairly close to his body. The twitch must have been it further separating, and now it looked to be only a single slender wire.

  Lenore stopped pulling, afraid to break the line. Besides, he’s close enough to drift the rest of the way.

  But as she stood there, quite aware of the seconds ticking away, Diarmin didn’t appear to be drifting any closer. She noticed him lightly jerk his head as if trying to point at something to her left. As she looked that way, her light showed a sparkling trail of ice coming from the ship. The leak was still there and pushing the ship away from Diarmin. Not very fast, but enough to keep him from drifting close before his suit gave out.

  “Alli. Turn off the environmental systems. Just the oxygen.” Maybe that would stop or at least slow the leak. Even so, she knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  Lenore turned her helmet light back to Diarmin. She had two choices. Give a hard yank and hope that’s enough momentum to bring him in or keep pulling very gently and hope the cable won’t snap. As the light hit Diarmin’s face, she could see the same thoughts in his eyes. As he shifted slightly, Lenore could see a small stream of air between the fingers on his stomach. He rearranged his hand and it stopped, but the cable started to slip through Lenore’s hand as he drifted away. She grasped it tighter, stopping the momentum but could see his mouth moving and guessed he was cursing himself for letting his hand slip.

  That hole must be getting bigger. We are running out of time.

  She began her hand-over-hand tug again, trying to be as gentle as possible.

  Four meters. It was working.

  Three meters.

  Lenore’s entire focus narrowed to the slow progress of the line growing shorter way too slowly. A glance at Diarmin’s face showed his eyes starting to drift close.

  Two meters.

  Suddenly the cable snapped. Lenore reached her hand up, but he was still too far away. Desperate, she jumped off the hull to grab her husband, hand still extended, but her tether stopped her. She saw him reach for her with his left hand.

  “Don’t!” she cried, but he couldn’t hear her. His suit puncture caused a stream of air to push him away. He put his hand back, but it was too late. He was floating away from the ship again.

  Lenore wrapped the end of the newly broken cable around her left hand and wrist twice then gripped it in her fist. She pulled the cable still secured to the ship so her feet were back on the hull and looked up again for Diarmin.

  In those few seconds, he had drifted back out to about four meters. She knew she only had one shot. Taking a breath and slowly letting it out, she detached her safety line and pushed off as hard as she could.

  The distance between her and her husband closed quickly, and she reached for anything to grab on to. She missed his toolbelt but managed to grip the arm that covered his stomach tear. It leaked very briefly but Diarmin stopped it and Lenore hooked her arm through his, determined not to lose either grip.

  Though they were still heading away from the ship, Lenore wrapped the loose cable around Diarmin so she could have a free hand. She reached above her head for the emergency attachment that would hook her suit to his, transferring air and removing carbon dioxide using her own PLSS. Diarmin’s eyes flew open and she could see him taking a deep breath. His small smile reassured her, but they were still on the clock.

  Making sure they were securely attached to each other, Lenore began to pull both of them toward the ship. It was slow but steady and she didn’t take a full breath until her feet were on the hull. Since Diarmin’s systems were down, his boots didn’t have the magnetic effect so she kept hold of him.

  “I’ve got him,” she said. “Quinn, meet us at the airlock.”

  The trip back was agonizingly slow, and Lenore was reaching exhaustion. Weightlessness while hauling another body was no easy task. As the airlock cycled, she could see both kids looking in, concern clear on their faces. When the hatch opened, both of them reached to help pull them through the hatch and into the lounge where there was more room. Quinn popped off his father’s helmet and Alli helped Lenore with hers.

  “I can’t tell you how good it is to see your faces,” Diarmin croaked. He licked his lips and Lenore noticed he still had his hands over the suit punctures. Gently she removed them as she felt the tears in her eyes.

  The usual letdown after stress. “Quinn, he is dehydrated. Help me get him out of this suit and into the medbed. Alli, go warn the passengers and turn the gravity back on.”

  As Allison floated her way back to the bridge, Quinn helped remove the suit. Diarmin was still conscious but very weak and Lenore was beginning to feel the effects as well. Quinn tugged at the pressure undergarment a little too fiercely.

  “Why...is...this...so hard?” he ground out between pulls.

  “It’s supposed to be skintight,” said Lenore. “Careful.” She had noticed Diarmin wincing with each tug. “Ease up a bit, Quinn. It’s easier to peel it off rather than pull.”

  “Good thing I had the pressure suit,” said Diarmin. “It kept me alive.” His voice was merely a whisper now. As the suit peeled down past his stomach, Lenore saw the reason for his pain, a jagged cut where the suit had been torn.

  “Attention. Full gravity will resume in ten seconds. Please secure yourselves.”

  They all made sure to orient themselves with their feet toward the deck, Lenore and Quinn helping Diarmin as they pulled off the last of the inner suit. Suddenly weight returned and they were pulled the last inch down. Lenore managed to stand on her shaky legs but Diarmin kept going until he was in a heap, hand on his stomach again.

  “Should have maneuvered him above the bed while still weightless,” said Quinn with a grunt as he helped her lift Diarmin.

  Supporting Diarmin’s weight with his arms around their shoulders, they managed to get him into the bed. Lenore rummaged in the drawers for a couple of specific tools. She found the subdermal scanner first and ran it over Diarmin’s wound. When it beeped, she looked at her son.

  “Quinn. Go get him some water please,” she said.

  As soon as he left, Lenore held up the small forceps. Diarmin nodded, knowing the beep indicated shrapnel. Using the scanner, she located the piece and extracted it while Diarmin bit his lip against the pain. Lenore quickly covered the wound with a healing patch that also included painkillers and blood coagulants. She had just begun hooking up IV’s when Quinn came back with a cup and straw. Allison showed up as Diarmin sucked down the
water.

  Lenore activated the various medical devices. “Fortunately, there was no damage to your inner organs, just that nasty cut. Rest now.” She could tell he was about to lose consciousness, but he had one more thing to say.

  “You know. I never fixed that leak.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Allison gazed at her dad’s sleeping face. Then she looked at the rest of the family doing the same and noticed that her mother still had her spacesuit on though she had removed the gloves.

  “Alli,” she said. “Stay here with your father. Quinn, go to the bridge and monitor from there as I go back to fix that leak.”

  “No. You’re exhausted,” said Quinn. “I’ll go.”

  “Absolutely not,” she said. She pushed past Quinn to retrieve her gloves and helmet from the lounge. Quinn followed her and Allison could see the angry stubbornness starting again in her brother’s face. She hovered in the doorway to watch.

  “Why not?” he demanded. “I can do it, and, in your condition, you may make a mistake. What if there’s another mine?”

  “If there happened to be another, it would have been set off by the first. Besides, it has been years since you have worn your suit, and it probably won’t even fit you anymore.”

  “Then I’ll wear yours. I’m about the same size as you now,” he said, crossing his arms.

  Lenore looked at him, blinking rapidly as if she hadn’t realized that fact until now.

  Honestly, I didn’t realize it either, thought Allison

  The two stared at each other and Allison thought hard for something she could do or say to keep both of them from another fight. She got an idea and delved into the drawers below the medbed. Aha, there it is! She grabbed the bottle and an injector and dashed into the lounge.