Farlost: Arrival Page 14

  She’d listened to it talk to the crew from the tram that was even now hurtling farther away from the Betty. Heard ‘Daisy’ offer comfort in its strange, almost human tones to other, less human voices.

  Dina was very proud she could still shuffle all this into her mental deck.

  “You are in a degrading orbit one thousand, four hundred and twenty kilometers above a Thorn,” Daisy continued. “I project a seventy-eight percent chance we can integrate your reactor systems with our Betty’s engineering section, and avoid both ships’ falling into the shatterzo-“

  The angry, gruff voice cut in. “What the pretty talking tree is saying is that your ship and our ship can both get out of this, if our boy parts and your girl parts can still play.”

  “Uh, did he say ‘Tree’?” Raj asked.

  “He said ‘Tree’,” Murray murmured back.

  Daisy's voice. something too perfect about it, Dina realized. A machine interface can’t do it that well.

  “Sorry, what?” Beacham blurted, his voice half confused, half excited. “Did you say tree? Like with leaves? We’re talking to a tree?!”

  “Beacham!” a very exasperated Commander Montagne called again.

  Another voice shouted over her. Gruber again. “Ah, hell, Haskam, just tell us if you went and created a new power standard since the New York Olympics I missed when my ass got shot into space to mine the belt! ”

  Beacham’s voice came on again. “Of course we’ve upgraded power systems! I made them upgrade them twice, just to renew my contract! It’s all backwards compatible with your boat, though, I’ve got the schematics in front of me.”

  “Beacham,” the Commander said, over Beacham. His voice died out. “Forgive me, Captain Travis,” cut in Commander Montagne, sounding definitely pissed, Dina thought. “We’re grateful to hear your voice, and we’re definitely in need of some help over here, but we’ve got a few minutes and I’d appreciate a crash course. Where the hell are we?”

  Dina pushed her earpiece hard against her ear. Not a sound came over the common line, not even Murray and Raj’s usual heavy breathing.

  A very human sigh from the Betty: “Sorry Commander. Yeah, there’s a lot to talk about. I formally offer you full Pax and all the assistance The Betty and my crew can offer.”

  Montagne was sounding angrier by the second. This time, Dina tapped the volume of her earpiece down a notch. “Captain, we don’t know you. We don’t have the lay of the land. I’m talking to the captain of a ship that’s been missing for a hundred years, in a neighbourhood I’ve never visited before! I know we’re pressed for time, but What can you give me in a thirty second sit-rep?”

  The gruff voice laughed faintly. “I like her,” Gruber said.

  Then Captain Travis was back on the horn.

  “Alright, Commander. Hold on tight, because we don’t have time to do this right. When you and your crew went FTL, you were fed to that spiky thing beneath us. We call it a Thorn. We can get drunk later, and wax philosophical about what the hell really happened, but you’re here now no matter the ‘why’. The Thorn’s noticed you, and it’s sucking us down harder. if we don’t get our mains back online and boost us free soon, gravity’s going to get thick around these parts and we’re going to be crushed.”

  “We heard voices,” Beacham said. “Not human voices.”

  “You heard right,” the Captain sighed. “The only humans on Betty are me and Ben.” To Dina’s ears, he sounded sad when he answered. “We’re all aliens here, man.”

  The silence stretched.

  Dina was tapping on the canopy glass, risking frostbite, before the Commander came back on.

  “Captain Travis, you offered peace terms like it was an every day thing. What are we looking at? What should I expect?”

  “Well, not quite an every day thing,” the man laughed. “We’re no pirates, Haskam. And look-we don’t really have a choice but to work together, fast. There’s a lot you need to know but we need to get out of here before we can’t. I don’t know what a stranger’s word is worth to you, but I promise we’ll do everything we can to leave you better than we found you. Please, Commander,” his voice twisted.

  Dina heard fear in his voice. But not for himself, she didn’t think.

  “I’ve got to get to my crew before…”

  “Enough foreplay,” Gruber growled over the line, louder now. “We get in bed together now, or we die down there. Capiche, Haskam?”

  “Is this guy for real?” squeaked Raj.

  Dina shushed him.

  Montagne’s voice was a little lighter when she replied. “Bottom line is, you've got an engine and we've got the gas. I’m patching in my navigator and science expert. They say we can reach you with the thrust available to us, but mating up won’t be pretty, and we won’t be much use to you after that.”

  “We just need what’s in your pants, lady,” Gruber joked. Dina laughed out loud. So did Murray on the shared line.

  And, to Dina’s surprise, so did Montagne on the public one. “I’ve had worse offers. I’m accepting your terms, Captain” Montagne said. Then her voice changed. “Don’t make me regret it. What do you need from us?”

  “Get out of the chair, Sam!” Gruber’s muffled voice said. Then, clearer, he said: “First, light it up and get your ass up here! Then we tether up. If you can disengage a couple of those -what are they, spaceplane tanks?- around your waistline, we can slot you into one of our cargo holds and reinforce your structural integrity before we burn.” His voice grew animated. “Hell, I might see my kids yet!”

  Dina took a deeper breath than she had since the first rock stabbed HHL-6, hearing the fatherly tone momentarily replace Gruber’s caustic one.

  “Rose, find the second EVA mech team and get them ready for whatever we need.”

  “You’ve got EVA teams?” Captain Travis interrupted. “Do you have craft or mech? What kind of range?”

  Dina was tapping herself into the public line before she knew what she was doing. “Craft, captain. Dina Rodriguez here sirs, piloting one of our short range repair and resupply craft. If we max on fuel, we can stretch it pretty far, sirs,” she shouted out on the party line. “Fourteen thousand clicks is the Toad’s orbital record.”

  Dina was scared, she was running on adrenaline… but by god she had a ship and if she could do some good, she would. “I take it your crew needs a lift home?”

  “Waitaminute!” Beacham said over her. “They’re going to fly free of this thing, aren’t they? Do they have fuel and power to ride it out, because two support ships are better than one if we’re trying for a hard seal with that ancient piece of-—“

  “No,” Travis said, his voice higher and pinched with worry. “They’ll be lost if we don’t get to them soon.”

  “LIDAR and the tracking computer say I can get there with plenty left over to match up with you later, Commander,” Dina said. “Since you’re planning on following me up, I can burn fuel all the way.”

  “Bold, Rodriguez,” Commander Montagne said, her voice heavy. “And brave. Nav Okoro confirms most of the debris that could foul up the Toad has blown clear of your route.” Dina listened to the Commander’s thoughtful tone. “I don’t like people dying.” A heavy sigh from the commander. “In for a penny… You have a go for payload retrieval, pilot. Gas up the car and beeline it.”

  “Thank you!” Three different voices called out on top of each other.

  Dina grinned, already punching buttons and turning the Toad back toward her bay.

  “I’ll go straight from school to Sally’s house mom, I promise, and you can pick me up on the way out of town.”

  “What the hell?” muttered Raj on the private line, but he didn’t sound at all surprised.

  “Speed freak,” Murray called out. “Always gotta be first to the party.”

  Dina rode the pressure of her thrusters and her adrenaline junkie’s high in equal parts as she jockeyed the Toad back to bay to fill her tanks.

  “Don’t worry boys
, I’ll bring back some new friends for you to play with.”

  31

  "C&C," Dina Rodriguez's tinny voice sounded in Arnel's ear. "Toad is fueled and clear."

  "You have a go for burn, Toad," Nav Officer Okoro called back.

  Arnel listened to the staticky feed in his helmet speaker, taking it all in as best he could as he waited for Taggart to complete his work.

  Pilot Rodriguez had been fast, he marveled. She'd refueled her EVA craft in less time than it took for he and Taggart to make it down to Cellar Two, stomachs in their throats for fear of what they'd find in that emergency station.

  His emotions were on hold now, overwhelmed to have found the crew of Cellar Two safe, while he heard the tinny voices of other human beings, in a centuries old ship, calling them for help.

  His fingers tightened around the mesh bag he held out for Taggart in his space-suited hand. Too many highs and lows had him reeling. Plus, he really had to pee and wanted out of his suit before he did.

  Why that was so important, after all the death and carnage he'd seen that day, Arnel had no idea.

  Taggart grunted, pushing down on the bent tube running along the wall with the long wrench. "Just about...got it!"

  The bolt turned with an ear-splitting shriek. For a moment Arnel wished he'd left his helmet visor down. Then he took the bolt from Taggart and pushed it inside the mesh bag at his space-suited hip.

  Taggart's massive shoulders bunched and released as he shook out the strain of removing the seized bolts on the thick armored tube in front of him. The security officer had seemed better, more 'with it', since they began their trek to Cellar Two. As soon as they'd briefed the crew in Cellar One and put them to work, in fact, his thousand-yard stare had disappeared.

  "Idle hands, they do suck," Taggart grumbled through his own open faceplate, as he tugged sheared fibre optic cable out of the tube. He said it as if in response to something Arnel hadn't said.

  Okay, Arnel thought, so Taggart was still being a little creepy. "How long?" he asked.

  They'd opened access panels on either side of a fold in the tube. The walls had shifted and the alloy tube had crimped, cutting off comms to Cellar Two.

  Other than that, Arnel thought, this tank, leading to the access hatch to Cellar Two, was in better shape than most of the ship. The air was good, there was no impact damage from the storm, and the ventilation was feeding warm air.

  He looked over at the door to Cellar Two. The airlock seal-light flicked between red and green, indicating that it had been jammed shut when the tank's frame shifted. Dealing with a jammed door was just an annoyance, after what he and Taggart had seen on the trip down.

  They'd crossed through completely airless tanks, using wireless comm units to notify the repair crews behind them, spent valuable minutes spraying patch foam into leaks the automated systems had missed, and all the while wondering if they'd find all their friends floating dead inside Cellar Two when they got here.

  "How's it look," he asked Taggart again, not too concerned by the man's silence. He went from reading Arnel's thoughts to missing direct orders in the span of a minute.

  With what HHL-6 was going through, and how useful even an erratic Taggart was proving, he wasn't going to complain.

  Taggart nodded. "Just a quick throw of fiber and they'll be plugged back in." He was already tugging cabling and a tool from the side of his suit to make the repairs. "Then they can join us in the land of the lost!"

  Arnel kicked off and floated back to the airlock. He gripped the handhold beside the access panel and lifted the handset there, which ran on a dedicated channel to the inside.

  "We'll have you online in two shakes, Green."

  Duty officer Green's face was mottled red. He looked angry, but Villanueva recognized that as a poker face. He’d taken enough of the man’s money over the years to know.

  Green’s hand tightened around the handset of the airlock hardline. “Faster than….” He cut himself off before he blurted 'Light'.

  The masses of people trapped in Cellar Two gave the duty officer breathing room now, looking calmer after his and Taggart's arrival, but explaining things to the mob would be tricky, Arnel knew.

  Let them think they were right as rain behind a stuck door for now, he though.

  "It's going to be a shock. Remind everybody we're in one piece, we got here under our own power and there's no reason we can't get ourselves back."

  "Is that true, sir?" Green licked his lips, leaning into the small airlock window. “We can get back?”

  Villanueva kept his own face neutral and redirected the conversation. “Remember the physicist, Beacham? We’re stuck in a gravity well right now. He says we can't try FTL again until we clear it.” He nodded his head toward Taggart. “When this feed goes live, people are going to panic. Keep them calm. We'll get you out. We'll keep you alive. We're all going home! We clear?”

  Green nodded. “Knowing you’re alive out there makes it easier. All things considered?’ Green flashed a weak grin, “I’d rather be losing my chips to you than manning this post.”

  Villanueva laughed sourly. “Keep them from hurting themselves, Richard, and I’ll spot you a stack of chips when this is over! I've seen you play: that's the only way you’ll leave the table up more than me.”

  They traded dry chuckles before a bony hand closed over Duty officer Green’s shoulder and shoved him aside. A rail-thin man appeared, in -of all things- a tailored-for-space business suit.

  Haskam's very own Chairman Goss. Arnel knew him to be a tough as nails business man. Eccentric as hell but still sharp as a whip.

  Arnel stood straighter.

  The man tugged on the necktie velcro'd to his shirtfront, raising his chin imperiously as he did so. He was holding it together better than Burkov had, Arnel could see.

  "Status update, Third!" He barked into the receiver Green had surrendered. "Where’s Commander Dwyer?"

  Arnel floated closer to the window again. "Dead sir," he said, his hand over his mouth to obscure the words. "I'm acting as first under Security Chief Montagne. Please keep what I'm about to tell you quiet for now, sir."

  Chairman Goss's eyes narrowed. "What?" he sputtered, but n Arnel could see belief and acceptance in the old man's clear eyes.

  The old man accepted Dwyer's death as easily as he had the trauma of being bounced around in the Cellar by the storm they'd escaped. He switched up his questions. "And, is whatever is happening out there the reason First Officer Yu did not join us?"

  Villanueva took a deep breath.

  Bill Yu didn’t make it to the Cellar? he thought to himself, feeling an extra sadness pile on his shoulders.

  "Then Yu’s most likely dead sir. We’ve had serious casualties."

  The old man leaned forward, his fingers tensing around the hardline handset pressed to his ear. Moisture from his snarling mouth collected on the airlock window pane. "What are we still doing in here? Why isn’t there a whole shift here to open this door! Explain!"

  "Sir, what I'm going to tell you is difficult to hear. HHL-6 encountered a micrometeorite storm. The ship’s in emergency condition and the crew from Cellar one is in the midst of emergency repairs. There have been deaths. We'll assemble a team to get you out as soon as we can spare them. The ship's still bleeding air and hasn't been fully examined yet."

  Goss's manicured hand appeared in the window, brushing away Arnel's words. "Yes, fine, get on with it then, Villanueva!" The chairman turned to leave, accepting Villanueva's reality with the trademark cold business acumen he was known for.

  "Testing signal," Taggart muttered by the wall. Arnel nodded, and was about to hang up the handset when the Chairman's voice blared from it. "Get Burkov here."

  Arnel shook his head. "Sorry, sir. Burkov became hysterical and the Commander had to restrain him to the C&C duty cabin."

  The folds of skin around the old man's clear, sharp eyes folded into a narrow glare. "She put a Vice President of the Corporation under house arrest?"


  "Signal's solid," Taggart muttered behind him. "Patching data through."

  "Sir," Arnel told the chairman, forgetting Taggart's words. "During the radiation storm that required you all to gather in the cellars, our course trajectory and acceleration were interfered with by multiple sizable impacts. We would have died if we stayed in place. We took extraordinary measures to… relocate, and the Vice President became hysterical."

  "Aaand, we're live!" Taggart said with a grunt of satisfaction.

  “What the hell do you mean, extraordinary measures?" Goss said, his voice brittle and angry. "And this nonsense about relocating… are you being smart with me, son?”

  Villanueva bristled. "Sir, this is a Condition Red emergency. Commander Montagne has shown great restraint with--" his voice died out as, behind the chairman, he saw people crowd around the monitors and begin to gasp.

  Oh, shit, Arnel thought, only then realizing Taggart had already patched the Cellar in.

  Taggart was standing beside him now, peering in as Goss turned to look at a small monitor displaying the Thorn and the spaceship graveyard.

  "I'm sorry Chairman Goss, I'm needed elsewhere." This was a formality, for the chairman was facing away, the handset forgotten as he stared at the screen like all the rest. "A work team will arrive soon to assist with the door," he finished and hung up the handset.

  Arnel fixed Duty Officer Green with a stare and nodded slowly.

  You know your duty, his body language said.

  Green nodded back, confirming that he did.

  "What do you know, he's worried about the others," Taggart murmured. "Thinking of how to keep them calm." Arnel stared at the security officer as he bumped their shoulders together. "Old Goss has a heart after all. A little stumpy one."

  Arnel just stared, from Taggart to Goss and back, then shook his head. "Can you do anything more here?"

  Taggart laughed. "Not if you want that door to close again. Otherwise I have some explosive charges--"

  Arnel snorted. "Let's go."

  They kicked off. Arnel toyed with leaving Taggart behind, but it was an empty symbolic gesture. HHL-6 needed all hands right now.