by R. M. Olson
She grabbed another piece of cord, wound it through the railing, and fed it carefully into the drive.
It was definitely slowing now, but the smoke from where the first cord wrapped around the shaft was thickening and blackening.
She glanced around again, then grabbed a crowbar. She pulled out a utility knife and hacked a long strip from the bottom of her tunic and wound it tightly around the tool as padding.
Probably a bad idea, but then again, most of her most brilliant ideas were, at their core, bad ideas.
She nudged the bar gently towards the spinning motor.
There was a ‘thunk’ as it caught, and for a moment the drive slowed enough that she could see the individual components, straining against the bar. Jez sprang to her feet and sprinted for the door, and just as she reached it, the drive picked up one last burst of speed and flung the crowbar, whirling end-over-end, into the air. She dived for the entrance as it hit the wall of the bay with enough force to dent the metal, ricocheted, bounced off the ceiling, and embedded itself in the paneling of the door frame.
She breathed a sigh of relief, and turned back to the drive.
It was still spinning, but much more slowly now, almost sedately. The cords were wound tightly around the shaft, and they were blackened, but, thank heavens, not yet on fire.
She grinned.
Well, that had worked. Hadn’t been completely sure it would.
Lev would have had an absolute fit if he’d been here.
She waited a few moments as the drive slowed more.
There was a faint popping sound from the floor and walls, and she frowned. Maybe just a reaction to the shrapnel of bolts and hyperdrive components that had been flung at them over the last hectic couple minutes?
No, didn’t sound like that. It sounded more like—a power issue, maybe. She couldn’t tell.
She glanced back over at the drive. Compared to what it had been doing before, it looked like it was almost standing still. But if she were to try to put her hands in there now, she probably wouldn’t have any hands left by the time she pulled them out again. Give it another couple minutes. No hurry now that it didn’t look like anything was going to start on fire.
The popping came again.
The anti-grav, maybe?
“Hey, Tae,” she said, tapping her com. “You got the gravity fixed?”
“No. It wasn’t a grav issue, it was a power issue. The meltdown messed up the core. Where are you?”
“I’m just in the reactor bay. Wanted to check something out. I’ll be back in a sec.”
She picked up the crowbar, now twisted almost in half, and poked carefully at the drive. It slowed noticeably.
That was good.
She watched the spinning shaft for a moment.
It had been under a lot of pressure, but she’d checked that it was unhooked from the rest of the ship before she’d tried this. Shouldn’t even have turned anything on, just a pressure release. So what was the popping?
Power issue, Tae had said.
She wrapped her hands in the sleeves of her jacket and touched the warped piece of metal that had been a crowbar gently to the drive shaft again. It clunked, almost jerking the bar out of her hands, slowed, and, finally, stopped.
She breathed in a long sigh of relief and, hands still protected by her jacket sleeve, reached in gingerly.
It spun freely now, when she gave it a cautious tap. Lost a few minor components, but looked like nothing structural damaged.
She cut the blackened cords off the axel with a utility knife and pulled them gently free. She’d have to come back here sometime and put it back together right, but the sight of it, still functional when everything else on her ship seemed to have been torn to pieces, felt like a weight lifting off her shoulders.
She gave a slightly shaky smile.
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe they could get used to things going right every so often.
The popping came again, louder, and she glanced around uneasily. She stood, and peeked out into the corridor. The warm, old-fashioned lights set into the walls were flickering.
She frowned, her unease growing slightly stronger.
Then again, maybe not.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Impact minus 11 hours, Ysbel
Ysbel made her way to the weapons tower, Tanya close behind her. Neither of them spoke, but Ysbel could see the concern on her wife’s face.
Still, at least this was a threat they could fight. And, at least if they were going to die, she’d prefer missiles to slowly suffocating.
When they reached the tower, Ysbel pulled out her familiar tools and set to work disassembling the guns. Tanya sat beside her, their knees touching, and the familiar rhythm of working together made Ysbel’s heart ache unexpectedly.
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” asked Tanya. Ysbel nodded, because for some reason she couldn’t seem to speak.
They worked in silence, and even with the five lost years between them they moved with the rhythm of each other’s work, she handing Tanya a tool before Tanya needed to ask, Tanya placing a part in her lap before she knew what she needed. Her hand brushed Tanya’s once, and Tanya leaned in to kiss her, and she had to blink back tears.
“How’s it coming?”
She started as Tae’s voice crackled through her earpiece. She glanced down at the com. It had been almost three hours, but working together with Tanya had lulled her into a sort of trance.
She looked at the components in her hands, and then over at Tanya.
“My love?”
Tanya frowned. “I have everything together that I can, but I’m missing the S-clamps. It looks like they were burned through when the ship went down.”
Ysbel tapped her com. “Tae. Do we have S-clamps? I have the guns mostly together, but I won’t feel comfortable until we get the S-clamps replaced. All of the ones here are burnt out. I’ll need thirty or so. Do we have them?”
There was a short pause. “I don’t know. I’ll go back to the main deck and sort through, see if I can find anything. We may have to see if we can find a work-around.”
Ysbel looked at Tanya, shaking her head. “I’m not sure how—”
Tanya held up a hand. “Ysi? Did you hear that?”
Ysbel paused, frowning. “Hear—”
Then she did hear it, a faint popping sound.
“What—”
It came again, slightly louder. She exchanged looks with Tanya, and tapped her com. “Tae. While you’re up by the cockpit, maybe check the ship’s com. I’m hearing something back here that I don’t think I should be hearing.”
“What is it?” came Tae’s voice instantly.
“It’s a popping noise. It’s coming from under the floor, I think.”
“Give me a minute. I’m almost there,” said Tae, voice strained.
The popping sound came again, louder this time.
“It sounds like something sparking,” said Tanya, her face cut with unease. “Ysi, I think we should—”
“Get out!” Tae’s voice snapped over the com. “The reactor meltdown cut the power matrix. The blast doors are shutting down. Get out, or you’re going to be locked in.”
Tanya and Ysbel looked at each other.
“The children,” said Ysbel.
Tanya was down the ladder first, and sprinting towards the back of the ship where the cabins were, with Ysbel close on her heels. She came to an abrupt halt, and Ysbel barely managed to stop before running into her.
A steel lockdown door had clanged shut at the end of the corridor, barring their passage.
“Tae! Can you open it? The children are in the cabins,” Ysbel shouted.
“I’m sorry. I can’t get it back online,” said Tae, his voice strained. “I’m trying now.”
“I’m going to blow it up,” said Ysbel grimly. “Stand back.”
“Ysbel. Don’t. Those blast doors are completely non-reactive. Your explosion won’t do anything but use up oxygen,” said Tae.
“I’m not leaving my children there alone,” said Ysbel grimly. “If the blast doors have shut, the life support systems back there will shut off too. I won’t leave them like that.”
“Hey Ysbel. What, you worried I’m going to be a bad influence?”
She stared at her com for a moment. “Jez?” she said.
“Yep. Saw the doors shutting down and I figured someone had to grab the kids. They’re not old enough to swear properly yet.”
For a moment, Ysbel felt lightheaded with relief.
“You beautiful pilot,” she said.
“Careful, pretty sure you’re married,” Jez shot back, and Ysbel could hear her grin through the com. “Better get going. I’m guessing everything’s going to be shut down pretty quick here.”
Ysbel nodded, still staring at the com.
“Ysi. Come on. We can’t get to them. We’ll have to trust Jez to get them out,” said Tanya grimly. Around them, the popping, sparking sound of the power shutting down was growing louder.
She shook her head, grabbed Tanya’s hand, and they sprinted for the main deck.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Impact minus 7.5 hours, Jez
Jez slapped her com off and glanced around the darkening corridors, then took off running towards the cabins, ignoring the pain knifing through her ribcage.
The doors out were already shut. She’d heard them slam in front of her. Still, there’d be time to worry about that once she’d gotten the kids.
The lights dimmed as she pulled herself up the ladder-hatch, and by the time she reached the cabins, the hallways were all the way dark.
Of course. If the blast doors were shut, the emergency systems would be shunted to the front of the ship.
No light, no fresh oxygen. But then, they wouldn’t have to worry about that, because there’d be no heat, either, so they’d freeze to death long before they had time to run out of air.
She hit the light on her com, and in its narrow beam, she found the door to the children’s room. She pushed it open gently, and by the light of her com, she could see Olya huddled up against the wall. She was holding Misko, who had shoved his head into her shoulder.
Olya’s face was very pale.
“Mamochka?” she whispered.
Jez tried to grin. “Nope. It’s your favourite aunty.”
“Aunty Jez!”
The relief in the girl’s voice made her feel slightly uncomfortable.
“Aunty Masha’s my favourite aunty,” came Misko’s muffled, slightly sullen voice.
“Well, no accounting for taste,” said Jez. She came over and sat down on the bed beside Olya. “Hey, kid. You OK?”
“I’m fine, Aunty Jez,” said Olya. Her voice was trembling a little. “We heard the noises, and we woke up, and Mama and Mamochka were gone. But I knew you wouldn’t leave us here.”
For some reason, something choked in Jez’s throat.
“Yeah,” she said. “No way I’d do that. Who’d I be able to teach to gamble if you weren’t around?”
“Are we going to go find Mama and Mamochka?” asked Misko, lifting his head off his sister’s shoulder. He looked like he’d been crying.
“Yep. We’ll go find them. It … just might take a little while,” she said, trying to keep her voice carefree. “You stay here. I’m going to go into the hallway and talk with Uncle Tae for a minute.”
“Are you going to come back?” asked Olya. “Promise?”
“Promise,” she said with a grin, holding the light up so the girl could see her face. “I’ll be right back. Just need to check on something.”
“OK,” said Olya. She was watching Jez steadily with her pale face and her big eyes, and Jez swore quietly as she slipped through the doors.
“Hey. Tech-head. I’ve got the kids here. What is it looking like?”
There was a moment’s pause. “Not looking great, Jez,” came Tae’s voice after a moment. “Lev is going through all the specs he can find, but it’s not going to be easy to get you out of there. And—it’s going to start to get cold in there pretty soon.”
“Yeah? Well, I used to live in Prasvishoni, so guess it’ll feel just like home,” she said, in what she hoped was a jaunty voice.
“We’ll get you out as fast as we can. But you may have to hold tight for a bit,” said Tae quietly.
“Yeah,” she said. “Will do. Just … tell genius-boy to hurry it up, OK?”
“I will,” said Tae. “We’re working as fast as we can.”
She turned slowly and pulled the door open to the kids’ room again.
“Aunty Jez? Are we going now?” asked Olya immediately.
“Nope. Not quite yet, kid.” She came over and sat down beside the kids again. She pushed herself back farther on the bed and leaned her back against the wall.
The cold was already seeping in through the small cabin. Out in deep space like this, if the power core wasn’t running the heater, it wouldn’t take long to get cold.
“Olya, can you grab the blankets? Put them around you and your brother, and I’ll tell you a story, OK?”
Olya was still pale-faced, but she nodded and hopped off the bed. She gathered up the blankets from Misko’s bed, and pulled up the ball of blankets at the foot of her own bed. Jez tucked them in around the children.
“How are my babies?” asked Ysbel quietly through the com.
They’re fine. I’m teaching them swear words, she tapped back.
“Jez. I need to know. How are they?”
“Hey kids,” said Jez. “Your mama wants to say hi.” She hit the com. “Hey Ysbel. I got Olya and Misko here.”
“Olya. Misko. How are you?” Ysbel’s voice sounded almost unnaturally calm, but Jez heard the tremor in it.
“Hi Mama,” said Olya, swallowing hard. “We’re doing good. Aunty Jez is going to tell us a story. But—” She paused, and swallowed again. “But Mama, I want to go see you and Mamochka. Can we?”
She was blinking hard, as if trying to push back tears.
“Sweetheart,” said Ysbel, her voice choked as well. “Mamochka and I are working to open up the doors. We’ll see you in just a few minutes, OK? Listen to your Aunty Jez.”
“You want me to listen to my Aunty Jez?” asked Olya, clearly skeptical. “Because last time Aunty Jez came over, Mamochka said—”
“This time, yes, my heart,” said Tanya. “This one time, I do want you to listen to your Aunty.”
“We’re going to remember you said that, aren’t we, Olya?” broke in Jez, trying to grin. Her voice was shaking a little with cold, and she couldn’t seem to stop it.
“I’m cold,” said Misko. Jez looked over at him. He had started to shiver a little as well.
“Hey, Misko,” she said quietly. “Why don’t you come over here and sit on Aunty’s lap? That’ll keep you a little warmer. You too, Olya.”
“I don’t want you. I want Aunty Masha,” Misko grumbled, but he came over and settled himself in her lap. Olya joined him, and Jez pulled the blankets up around them.
Misko was a small, warm bundle against her, and Olya snuggled into her side. She put her arm around the kid and pulled her close, hoping her own body heat would somehow keep them a little warmer.
“You want to hear about the time that Aunty Jez got through three sets of police checkpoints with a ship full of counterfeit credit chips?”
They did. She told the story, and maybe she might have added in a couple parts to make it a little more interesting, but at least it seemed to keep the kids’ attention. She glanced inconspicuously at her com as she talked.
They’d been down here for ten standard minutes so far, and already she had to concentrate to keep her teeth from chattering as she talked.
As long as the kids were bundled up, they’d last a little longer, but at this rate, it wouldn’t be long.
She pulled off her jacket and added it to the pile of blankets. Goosebumps rose on her arms, but when Olya looked at her curiously, she shrugged and grinned.
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br /> “Talking makes me too hot. Thought maybe you kids could use the coat, since I’m doing all the talking.”
“OK,” said Olya.
She looked like she believed every word Jez was saying.
Jez had to swallow hard against the sick feeling in her throat.
They trusted her. What had Olya said? She knew Jez wouldn’t leave them.
People didn’t depend on Jez. No one depended on Jez. Hell, before this whole thing had happened, she’d been about to blow this damn company anyways.
You stupid, irresponsible girl. She could still hear the disappointment in her father’s voice. There always seemed to be disappointment there. I wish for once in my life I could depend on you.
She couldn’t help it. She was pretty sure she hadn’t ever been able to help it. She just couldn’t seem to remember all the things she was supposed to do, the little, important things that she’d forgotten, or screwed up, or blown off, again.
You stupid innocent. It was Lena’s voice this time. I can’t count on you to do anything. You can fly. Is that all? Is there anything else in that head of yours? Because I’m beginning to think there isn’t. You aren’t capable of being dependable.
Well, she hadn’t been wrong. After all, when she’d taken her leave of Lena for the last time, it was with Lena’s ship and half the cargo she’d stolen as part of her last job.
I knew you wouldn’t leave us, Olya had said.
She glanced down at the children again.
Lena was coming for her, after all this time. Well, according to Tae, she was coming for all of them. Some big rewards for all of them dead. But she knew Lena, and Lena wouldn’t have agreed to work with the government unless she was desperate. So there was something else, too, something that had frightened even the smuggler boss.
In the end, Tae was right. Jez had spent her whole life running—running away from the messes she’d made, running away from her screwups, running away from relationships that had gone sour.
I’m not certain if you’re even capable of fixing your problems, he’d said.
But looked like her problems had decided to come to her. And this time, there was nowhere to run.