by C. Gockel
Rebecca took a deep breath. “Yeah. Okay.” She picked up one of the sleeves as Liu finished her leg pieces. Issk’ath hovered in the doorway.
“Why do you have an extra shell, Emery?” it asked.
“I have to go outside. Just for a little while, to make sure the explosion didn’t break the ship. The thermal suit protects me for longer than our normal suits.” The sleeve clicked around her wrist.
“You are in distress,” said Issk’ath. “Your interior systems have become rapid.”
Liu glanced at her but said nothing. “I lost a friend. And I am frightened. But I am— operating within normal parameters,” she said.
“Remember that you’re going to feel pressure on your chest,” said Liu, lifting the torso pieces over her head. “It’s best to take three slow, deep breaths.” They breathed together as Issk’ath stared at them. “Ready?” Liu asked.
Rebecca held her breath and nodded. Liu fastened the suit and connected her filament. “Going to pressurize it now, you’re going to want to let that breath out. Pull your helmet on, it’ll be easier to breathe the suit mix.”
She twisted the helmet on and Liu tapped on his feed. The suit compressed and her breath whooshed out. “Hate this part,” she wheezed.
“Trust me, it’s better with the suit. The last thing you want is the bends out there. It’ll feel easier once you are outside.” He checked the pressure and the suit seals and moved on to check Al Jahi. “I’ll be watching the whole way, Chione,” he said, “You just be my hands.”
Al Jahi nodded. Rebecca fumbled with the tool kit, eventually clipping it to the suit.
“This appears to be inadvisable, Emery,” said Issk’ath.
She looked up at the sleek metal insect beside her. “It has to be done. We have to make sure the ship is okay. For us, for you, for the colony.” She patted its chassis. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be back soon. You can watch, with Liu.” She turned to him and the pilot hesitated but then nodded.
“Yeah, of course,” he said.
“Perhaps you should stay. I am unfamiliar with the sky, but it seems hostile to organic life. I will go in your stead. I do not require your breathing apparatus.”
“No Issk’ath. Captain Al Jahi and I have practiced this. We know how to move around, what to do with the tools once we get there. You may not require air, but the temperature and different pressures outside— I’m not sure what would happen to you. And you wouldn’t be able to move with ease. We couldn’t come back for you if you were lost. You have an entire people to keep safe. We just have ourselves.”
Issk’ath glanced down at the lights in its chassis, as if it had forgotten they were there.
“Besides, you just saved us. I think you deserve a rest. And a polish,” said Liu, scrubbing his sleeve over one of its pale eyes to sweep away the soot. “Come on, the sooner we let them go, the sooner they’ll be back.” He pulled Issk’ath by the outer edge of a wing. Al Jahi opened the lock’s inner door and slid inside. Rebecca followed her. The door closed and the small room echoed with a loud whoosh as the air was sucked out around them. Al Jahi grabbed her hand and squeezed.
“It’s going to be okay, Emery,” she said. “Just like training, right? Smooth and slow.” She put her other hand on the button. “Okay, here we go.” She gave Rebecca’s hand another tight squeeze and pressed the button. The door slid open.
Black. Endless, uninterrupted black. Rebecca felt as if she had gone blind. She fumbled with the filament, clicking on the helmet’s lamps. Nothing changed. “Where’s the planet? Where’s the sun?” she gasped.
“It’s okay, Emery. Deep breath, planet’s behind us, to the rear of the ship. That’s why it’s so cold, remember?”
Rebecca laughed nervously. “Sorry. Of course. It’s just, there were other people in training. Lots. Things to see. The Keseburg. Distant stars. Other people floating with trainers.”
“It can be disorienting. We’re going to go out and turn toward the Wolfinger now, you won’t have to look at space, okay? I’m going to let go now, I’ll be right outside the door. Use the handrails, I’ll hook up the tether.”
Al Jahi floated slowly into the opening, her fingers trailing along the brightly lit strip along the edge, she swung to the side of the opening and all but her hand disappeared from sight. Rebecca panicked a little and pushed forward from the deck, grasping the rails inside the doorway. She stuck her head out. Al Jahi was there, moving slowly along the side of the Wolfinger, like one of Spixworth’s flies on a rotten fruit. She clipped the tether at her waist to the anchored slider and leaned back to make space for Rebecca. “It’s all right, Emery, you can come out now. Just grab the rails and I’ll do the rest.”
Rebecca inched out. It wasn’t so bad, just more floating. She was somewhat used to that by now. But when she pulled herself sideways, turned around and the glass of her helmet clunked clumsily against the hull, the fear began to worsen. She was on the wrong side of the metal. Out in the breathless, silent cold, a seed out of its pod. She clutched at the rail. It felt too small, too weak, as if she could snap it off with one wrong twist of the wrist and go hurtling off into the dark. Like an Earth sailor sucked into the depths without even a shout left behind. “Man overboard,” she muttered.
“What’s that, Emery?” asked Al Jahi as she clicked Rebecca’s tether into the slider.
Rebecca shook her head. “Nothing. Old— old joke.” She took a deep, steadying breath and began to follow Al Jahi’s careful glide down the length of the ship.
“Are you there Liu?” asked Al Jahi.
“We’re here. Issk’ath and I. Your feed is coming in well. The ship diagnostics say the blast range began about forty meters ahead of your position. Are you able to see any debris from where you are?”
Al Jahi pushed gently away from the wall. Rebecca bit back a moan of anxiety as Chione floated out of reach. The tether spooled out, straightened, yanked back. Al Jahi began pulling herself in. “Nothing yet.”
“Just be careful— It’ll be like shrapnel if there’s any still nearby.”
Rebecca risked reaching a hand out toward Al Jahi. “Thanks,” said Al Jahi as she grabbed it. “You saved me a face plant. I never got the hang of this momentum thing, no matter how often I’m out here.”
Rebecca nodded and tightened her grip.
“Okay, not so bad, right? Couple dozen yards. Think of it like the trampoline therapy for Spindling. Just jump a little forward and glide. Used to do it hours with Dia.” She balanced awkwardly on one foot and bent at the knee. Her leg straightened suddenly and she was gone, sliding swiftly down the hull, her arms spread beside her and the tether a shining ribbon in her wake. “He used to laugh and laugh when I did that,” she chuckled, catching herself on the slant of the wing to stop. She twisted around to look at Rebecca. “Come on then, you try. Fly like Issk’ath,” she said.
“Her density is too great,” Issk’ath’s voice was clipped and strange over the feed. “She seems to find that distressing. I would suggest you avoid mentioning it Al Jahi.”
Liu laughed and Rebecca shook her head. “Sounds like a challenge to me, Emery.”
“All right, all right, I’m going,” she grumbled, but the unintentional joke made her feel better all the same. Still, she wasn’t quite as brave as Al Jahi, opting to keep her fingers grazing over the metal, just in case. Her breath was sharp and ragged in her ear and she tried to smooth it out, tried to let go, as if she were diving into the trampoline in the therapy cells. Her arm snagged and tangled on the tether and she let out an undignified squawk.
“Aww, flopped it, Emery,” chuckled Liu as she stopped and began drifting backward. “It’s okay, try again. You’re almost there, the blast zone should start just over the far end of the wing.”
Rebecca untangled her arm and pulled herself back to the surface of the ship. She held on tight to the tether and ran against the hull. The slider lurched and she swung forward. She let go and skidded over the side of the Wolfinger, her boots
sending little tremors up her legs with every bump. She twisted over Al Jahi as she slid past reaching an arm toward her. Chione grabbed it and they spun over the wing before the slider caught and their tethers yanked them back in.
“See?” said Al Jahi with a laugh as they bumped against the hull, “you’re a natural.”
Rebecca blew out a shaky breath. “I feel better now,” she said.
“Good, because I can see you two have work to do,” said Liu. “Can you see the gash? A meter to the left and up, Emery.”
She looked up, tilting back to see. A ragged rent poked out at them. Seeing it made the whole thing more real. The light relief was gone, crushed under loss and fear again. There was no chance Titov had somehow survived. “I see it. Do we just sheet it and go?”
“Hold on, I’m pulling up the schematics. I just want to be sure there’s not another problem further in.” Liu fell silent for a moment.
Al Jahi climbed over her gripping a nearby hand rail. She clicked on her helmet light and peered into the gash. “Well, the good news is that I don’t see any busted pipes. Don’t know about the electrical. Your dad teach you anything about that?”
“No,” said Rebecca, “He wasn’t part of—”
Liu’s voice broke in. “You’re good to go, weld a sheet and keep going. I’ve got to— I’ll be back as quick as I can.” He broke off as raised voices overwhelmed his and then the feed went silent.
“Liu? What’s going on? Liu? Come in, Liu.” Al Jahi was entirely focused on the feed. Rebecca eyed the hole in the hull. The faster they got this done, the faster they could get back. She ignored Al Jahi and climbed up beside her, shoving her boot into a nearby strap. She opened her kit and pulled out the metal sheeting, unfolding it into a long strip. It rippled and bent as she pulled the thin alloy over the hole. She always expected these things to tear.
“Hold that corner,” she told Al Jahi whose attention snapped back to what they were doing. Rebecca pulled out the welding gun.
“You think we should try to hammer it back first?” asked Al Jahi.
Rebecca shook her head and clicked on the welder. “We just have to keep this thing sealed, not make it pretty. Besides, we couldn’t even if we tried. Nothing short of the shipyard is going to have the tools to smooth this out.” The welding gun sparkled and vibrated in her hand as the helmet auto-dimmed to protect her eyes. The silence unnerved her. She was used to hearing the snapping arc of the sparks as they struck the metal. “Never going to get used to the quiet,” she muttered, passing the welder over the edge of the metal sheeting.
“You would,” Issk’ath’s voice broke in. “More quickly than you know.”
“I hope I never have to,” she said.
“I hope that for you as well, Emery.”
Chapter Forty
Leroux sobbed over Titov’s bunk. With Spixworth and Stratton preceding him, Titov’s room was empty now and was the logical spot for a makeshift infirmary. But it didn’t help Alice’s guilt. Neither did Leroux’s noisy weeping. She angrily cranked the wrench as she began unbolting Spixworth’s old bed. They had to make more room. “Should I call Dr. Cardiff?” she asked, trying not to snap at Leroux.
“No,” said Leroux, clearing her throat. “I don’t want to talk about it with her. Besides, she’s intoxicated. She should stay put.” She slid an arm over her face and tapped her feed to check on Cardiff’s blood acidity. It had been a close thing, formic acid had already begun building in Dr. Cardiff by the time Issk’ath had shown them what happened to Titov. No infirmary meant no drugs, no tools, no easy treatments. Leroux had been limited to the pitiful emergency kits scattered through the Wolfinger and a dubious bottle of cosmic glug stashed in Captain Stratton’s belongings. She still wasn’t certain if Dr. Cardiff would lose her sight. She clicked off the feed and began loosening another bolt. They were quiet for a few moments. “He was a good chemist. He always followed protocol,” Leroux muttered, “Always. Why didn’t he check what it was first?”
“He probably thought it was water. Looked like water on the feed. I’m not even sure he had time to realize what it was before it ignited,” said Alice. She bit the tip of her tongue. She hadn’t meant for Titov to go like that, but she told herself it was too fast to be painful. And it saved her a great deal of trouble. The last bolt came free. Alice pulled on the bunk and it slid easily from the wall. Leroux helped her tilt it down and they guided it out into the corridor. They brought it to Blick who was rearranging the equipment lock’s crowded storage.
Leroux stared vacantly at her for a moment. “But how did the container of methanol get a hole in it?” she asked.
“And why didn’t the lab sensor trigger?” added Blick.
Alice’s ribs seemed too tight. “Maybe he disabled it,” she said, trying to sound casual. “You know he’s done it before.”
Blick shook his head. “That blanket was soaked. You saw the feed. That much methanol would have set off the alarm long before he walked into the lab.”
“Maybe the sensor was faulty,” called Martham from the hallway. She pushed past Alice into the lock and twisted off her suit’s helmet. She glanced back toward the bridge and lowered her voice. “Maybe that thing shut it off.”
“It was in here the whole time—”
“That doesn’t mean it couldn’t have, Lionel. It’s got access to all of our systems, remember?”
“Sure,” he whispered, his eyes flicking nervously toward the doorway, “but why would it? It couldn’t have made the hole in the methanol. It wouldn’t have known what would happen.”
“Maybe it had help,” whispered Martham.
Leroux shook her head. “From who? And why? Who’d agree to kill Titov?”
Martham raised an eyebrow. “You think the target was Titov? No, he was an accident. Who knew he was going to be in there?”
Blick crossed his arms. “I did. You want to make this about me?”
“You knew hours before that he’d be in there? And when?”
“No, about ten minutes before he went in.”
“See? He was an accident.”
“So who was the real target?” asked Leroux. “Dr. Cardiff?”
Alice let out a short laugh. “Who’d want to kill her ? She’s useless, but she doesn’t exactly inspire raging passion.”
Martham shook her head. “Not Cardiff either. Someone’s been picking us off one by one—”
“Oh, give it a rest,” said Blick, “You keep saying that but why would any of us do that? And how? The others were all accidents.”
“Maybe,” she admitted, “or maybe they just look like accidents. This one was meant to. That is, whoever did it meant it to appear accidental, just in case it failed, which it did.”
“How did it fail?” asked Leroux. “Titov’s dead and Cardiff is dangerously ill.”
“Because they weren’t the targets. Well, not the only targets. The methanol was meant to blow a massive hole in the Wolfinger and suck us all into space. We were never meant to get back to the Keseburg at all.”
“That’s insane. Whoever did it would die along with the rest of us. Why would anyone risk that?” asked Blick.
“You heard Emery in the kitchen. She doesn’t want anyone to know about the planet. That robot thing has her— hypnotized or brainwashed or something. It did something to her when she was alone with it. It probably told her to cut the methanol container,” Martham hissed.
“Flaming Core, Beatrice! What has Emery ever done to you? You’ve had it out for her since training, but this is too far,” snapped Blick. “All she said was that we should be careful. That it was going to take more than just dumping our luggage to settle the planet. Why would she kill us? And the robot is just as lost without the ship—”
“Maybe it doesn’t care,” said Leroux. “If all it wants is to keep us from the planet, maybe its own— death, or whatever you want to call it, maybe that’s an acceptable price.”
“Look, if that’s what it wants, why don’t we just—
why don’t we consider it?” asked Alice. She felt a pang of guilt for not overtly defending Rebecca, but it was a short jump from Rebecca to herself, and Alice couldn’t afford to be exposed yet. Not until they agreed never to speak of the planet. Until they agreed their place was aboard the Keseburg. The others turned toward her. “I’m not saying we— promise anything, just let it think that we’re on its side,” she said. She needed to get them partway there. Needed time to convince them, rationally. With Titov gone, her biggest obstacle had been removed. Cardiff was still a problem, but if she could turn the opinions of the others, Cardiff might cave. It left only Al Jahi. Her children made her unlikely to shift, for the same reasons as Titov. But Al Jahi was outside. If Alice could get rid of Issk’ath and Al Jahi at the same time, Rebecca might be an acceptable loss. She regretted it, but her friend would be dying for a good cause.
“So we’re just supposed to be held hostage here while that machine and Emery decide which of us is convincing enough?” snapped Martham.
“No, shhh,” said Alice, glancing over her shoulder toward the bridge. “Rebecca is outside right now . For all we know, she could be doing worse things to the ship even as we speak.”
“But Captain Al Jahi is with her,” said Leroux.
“Then she’s next,” said Alice, “unless we get rid of Issk’ath first. If we can persuade it that we’re on its side, it won’t want to destroy the ship.”
