The big man kicks away the last remaining resistance to the Plexiglas, and grunts audibly as he hefts my now-limp form out the catwalk. I let him. My fingers have found the buoyancy pack handle on the front of my spacesuit and, as soon as I’m airborne out the window, I pull it.
The buoyancy pack does nothing for a very long second. The moment seems to slow down, long enough that I can take in the snarl on the security guard’s face receding away from me, the deep blue gulf far below expanding to receive me, and a bunch of shards of Plexiglas that are hovering around my head as we fall together.
The next moment the pack deploys and the shards vanish into the sky below me as my momentum is arrested. I’m hoisted up by an explosion of synthetic fabric and gas billowing out the back of my pressure suit. The fabric shapes itself into an orange sphere, not dissimilar to a giant beach ball. I shoot up past the window I recently exited, and the expression on the security guard’s face changes from anger to disappointment. He was clearly looking forward to witnessing my free-fall.
I’m disconnected from the Skylift structure, but I suddenly have an amazing view of it. Beyond the catwalk, the closest climber car is being boarded for its trip up the tether. It looks roughly like a pod, but with two bell-shaped lower fins that are aimed to capture energy from a laser array below. From my aerial viewpoint I can witness the boarding zone and I spot Mym being guided through the hatch.
The wind has carried me up and over the catwalk and I realize that in a few moments I’m going to be blown past the tether and out to sea. There is a flashing red light in my helmet viewfinder that may well indicate that my emergency is being noted. It could be that the Coast Guard is already on alert to come rescue my giant orange ball, but that does me no good if the Eternals escape. I fumble for the grappling device Eon gave me and figure out how to fire it. I release the safety and make sure my spool of cable is loaded right, then aim it for the nearest bit of catwalk. The gun is attached to my spacesuit by a cable that would be easier to manage if it was about a foot longer. I aim as best I can, but when I squeeze the trigger, the harpoon shoots out much faster than I anticipated, overshooting my mark by a good ten yards.
Shit!
I eject the wasted cable and fumble for my second one. As I’m attempting to load it, the wind carries me past the launch platform and the tether. Warning lights have begun to flash around the climber car. I finally get the harpoon loaded and search for where to aim it. I only have moments to get back and have any hope of catching the Eternals. I aim for the catwalk again, but as I do, the locks on the climber car disengage. Lights around the launch area flash green and a warning buzzer sounds. Debating for just a moment, I swing the gun and point it at the climber car instead.
“This seems like a bad idea,” my other self chimes in.
“No time to discuss this at a committee!” I say. I raise the grappling gun and fire. The climber car shoots upward as the laser array below it lights up. The car accelerates up the tether, but not before the harpoon on my cable pierces one of the lower fins and buries itself in the car’s undercarriage.
“Your jokes really aren’t funny—you know that?” my other self yells.
The harpoon gun in my hands unspools as I’m dragged upwards. The giant buoyancy ball on my back resists being hauled aloft due to all the wind resistance, but the spool in the gun quickly runs out of cable. The gun is ripped from my hands and the cable attaching it to my suit’s internal harness goes taut, jerking me upward. I rocket into the sky in the climber car’s wake.
“Aggghhhhhh!” I don’t know if it’s my other self or me doing the yelling, but we’re both equally terrified as we accelerate. The fabric ball of gas attached to my suit is pulling hard on my back as it resists being dragged through the thinning atmosphere. My body swings on the cable, arcing inward toward the elevator tether itself. Everything around me suddenly turns a brilliant red as I pass through the laser light being blasted at the panels on the bottom of the climber car. I impact something and am suddenly sent spinning away as the buoyancy bubble on my back collides with the tether itself and ruptures. The escaping gas propels me outward like a pendulum again, but the force of the wind catches me and rips the remains of my buoyancy ball off the back of my pack.
Without the resistance of the buoyancy ball, I feel the climber car accelerate faster, rocketing upward on its 60-mile trip to space.
“We’ll die if you hit that again!” My other self shouts, as the arc of my travel swings me back toward the elevator tether that is now whipping by at alarming speed. I cringe and curl myself up as small as I can as I pass the tether once more, just missing it this time.
My arc is getting tighter and faster and it’s only a matter of moments till I’ll be brought back in and possibly have my cable tangled in the tether. I don’t have time to imagine what being shredded to death by friction might feel like because I’m too busy dialing a time into my chronometer. I’m spinning wildly like an out of control yo-yo, but as the tether comes rushing back into my immediate view, I have a hand on my wrist.
There will be no missing this time.
The second before impact, I push the pin and blink.
20
“Sometimes people grow nostalgic and want to revisit their youth. The reality of time travel often quashes that desire. Spying on your younger self may remind you of your former glories, but it also refreshes the tragedy of your fashion choices.”-Journal of Dr. Harold Quickly, 1967
Earthrim, 2165
They say in space, no one can hear you scream. That’s not true when you have another self inside your spacesuit and both of you are screaming.
“Agghhh!” I reappear with the elevator tether still filling the entire view from my helmet. It takes me a moment to realize that the tether is no longer moving. Neither am I. I’m floating, buoyant again, but this time without any need for a ball of lifting gas.
I’m in zero gravity.
There is a sucking sound inside my spacesuit and then a whirring as the suit acclimates itself to its sudden new environment.
Above me—if there is still such a term—the Earthrim space station extends in a wide arc around the central core of the spaceport. Below me, planet Earth is suddenly finite, the curve of the upper atmosphere now visible in all directions. The tether I’m dangling near continues its way out into space, disappearing far beyond the station to wherever the counterweight is, but the climber car I’m still attached to has been removed from the tether and is now berthed in a gate of the spaceport.
I’ve only skipped over fifteen minutes, but that has apparently been enough time for the car to finish its trip into space and dock. An efficient system to be sure. My gravitized cable and harpoon have reappeared with me and I am now floating through space, but luckily still attached to the climber.
This space station is much larger and more expansive than the last one I was aboard. The previous station was occupied solely by traitorous friends and suicidal competitors during the chronothon. I don’t have great hopes for the occupants of this one either, but at least here I hope to have a few allies.
Pulling on the cable attached to my harness, I drift my way to the underside of the space station and find a handhold. Mym is somewhere aboard this thing, and I need to find her.
One good thing about space stations is that despite the fact that they are surrounded by a terrifying deadly vacuum, they always have a great view, and occupants still want windows. I’m forced to detach myself from the cable holding me to the climber car, but I use handholds to stay connected to the space station as I bob my way along its exterior surface. Through the many windows I can make out the interior hallways and various viewing rooms. Unlike the inside of a space shuttle or twenty-first century spacecraft, this interior looks uncluttered and clean. More Star Trek than Star Wars. I scrutinize the corridors for any sign of help.
Whoever designed this section of the station clearly didn’t have space walkers in mind because there are no handy access doors or airlo
cks for me to duck into. The view along the top of this arm of the station shows no other people outside the station. Everyone else is safely indoors. What I do see is a giant sphere of a spaceship slowly making its way toward a dock a few hundred yards down a parallel arm.
“Lights,” my other self says.
“What?”
“Over there. Something flashing.”
I concentrate on the part of the station that my other self has been paying attention to, and spot the flashing lights. A window on a perpendicular arm of the station has an amber light flashing from inside. I scramble along the surface and turn the corner so I can have a better look. Viewing from outside I have a clear understanding of what’s going on. The two windows I’m seeing through are on either side of an interior doorway. On one side, armed security personnel are trying to get through the door. On the other side the Eternals’ highjacked security guards are keeping it shut.
Longcase is there. He’s giving orders to the guards when suddenly he looks up and sees me out the window. He scowls and gestures to another security guard, then points out the window to me. I don’t know what he says, but the security guard adopts his expression, frowning at me with a clenched jaw. Longcase spins on his heel and hurries down the corridor. I follow.
The spherical spaceship is pulling into the dock now. Two blade-like wings that look like they contain main thrusters are stowing themselves into the body of the craft and smaller blue jets of rocket exhaust are bursting from various angles around the perimeter as it lines itself up with the loading door. A protruding docking collar is extending from the sphere, stretching a walkway toward the station.
I hurry to try to keep up with Longcase as he dashes along the interior corridor. There is some sort of artificial gravity system working on the inside of the station because he is not drifting around the way I am. My disadvantage slows me down and, by the time I catch up, he’s reached the bridge that extends to the docking ship. Inside this corridor, Elgin and a handful of the other Eternals are awaiting the completion of the docking sequence. Mym is there too, still wearing her darkened helmet and, to my dismay, I see that two of the Eternals are now holding a second captive, Doctor Quickly.
Whatever plan the doctor and Professor Chun had employed up here on the space docks, it’s clear that the ASCOTT agents were overwhelmed just as they were in the terminal. Some of the men and women gathering with the Eternals are wearing official-looking insignia, perhaps customs agents or port security. If whoever is coming down the bridge to meet them is expecting a normal welcome, they’ve got a surprise in store.
The action comes fast. When the lights flash green around the docking bay doors, the officials swarm through. There are no windows on the bridge leading to the ship so I can’t see what’s going on inside, but a few moments later, the port security comes back out, guiding a quartet of figures. Two women and two men, dressed in robes, much as the Eternals usually are, are being detained against their will. They look like they are a branch of the same religion, but whatever the conversation is that’s going on inside, it doesn’t seem friendly. Elgin and Longcase shout orders and the crew from the ship are handcuffed and roughly pulled aside as two Eternals come down the corridor carrying the black box. I don’t have to look long to guess that it’s likely the Labyrinth weapon stolen from the ASCOTT facility. Other Eternals follow along behind, one of them is carrying my portable gravitizer.
“Those bastards,” I mutter.
“What are we going to do now?” my other self asks.
“We need to get in there.”
“Whoa. Heads up.”
“What?” I look up and see the problem he’s noticed. A pair of security guards have found a way out of the spaceport and are making their way toward me along the length of the station arm I just came down. Unlike me, each step they take stays firmly anchored to the surface. Something in their boots is allowing them to stay locked to the station, so they are not required to bounce along the way I did from handhold to handhold.
“That’s not fair,” I mutter.
One look at the duo convinces me that I don’t want to be here when they arrive. They don’t need weapons. They wouldn’t even need to be especially strong. All they would need to do is pull me loose from the space station. One shove and I’ll go floating off toward the stars, never to return.
“This is bad,” my other self comments.
“I know.”
The group inside the corridor is moving. Elgin grabs Mym and hauls her roughly through the door. Longcase, apparently still alert to my presence, looks up and spots me through the window again. He holds his wrist up to his mouth and speaks something into it. One of the security guards approaching me outside the station pauses momentarily, then continues at an even faster pace. Longcase smiles up at me this time, then grabs Doctor Quickly and shoves him through the doorway.
There are only two ways to run. One route dead-ends into the spherical spaceship. The other continues on around the space docks in a massive loop, joining with the Earthrim resort area of the station, then eventually circling back to the arm I’m looking toward now, the one with two burly looking guards on it. I can run and possibly make it to an area of the space station that the Eternals don’t control, but I’ll lose Mym. The clock is ticking.
I consider my chronometer through the transparent rubber sleeve on my wrist. I don’t have a lot of options. I know from experience that there is only so much oxygen aboard these suits. They are also not meant for extended trips. I’m sure I’m already being exposed to enough solar radiation to be worrisome and the sooner I get indoors, the better it will be for my longevity in all respects.
It’s possible these two dudes might merely haul me inside and lock me up. It’s not certain that they are going to fling me into space. I could surrender.
“Don’t even think about it.” My other self must be running through the same options. “Being too trusting is what got us in trouble last time.”
The bridge below me trembles. The locks on the ship’s dock release. The Lost Star is leaving. I scramble along the bridge, climbing down and around the rectangular structure—forcing my pursuers to follow. They are smart though. They split up, one heading the opposite direction around the bridge, out of sight and in a position to cut me off. The ship detaches from the end of the bridge. For me it’s silent, but I feel the tremor in my fingertips as I cling desperately to the loading bridge.
Blue light glows from the circumference of the ship. The glow reflects off the face shield of the security guard headed toward me. I crouch down as low as I can, coiled for action.
“Hope you know what you’re doing,” my other self says. “If you die, I’m a goner too.”
“Are you kidding? I learned this all from YOU!” With the last word, I leap off the bridge. The security guard who circled the bridge to cut me off suddenly reappears from around the corner, reaching for me, but he misses. I launch off the space station and into the untethered void.
My trajectory is true.
After five nerve-wracking seconds of flailing through the nothingness, I impact the side of the ship. I scrabble frantically for something to hold on to, my fingertips desperately seeking purchase to keep from bouncing off again. I wedge my hand into a narrow crevice as my feet fly back off the surface.
Far below me I see the two security guards staring out from the spaceport bridge. They are receding slowly into the distance silhouetted against the glow from the planet. I can’t see their expressions. Maybe they’re disappointed. Maybe not. I might have just done their job for them. If I can’t find a way inside this ship before it blasts off into space again, I’ll be just as dead.
The wing-looking thruster mounts are extending again from the sides of the ship. Smaller thrusters fire from the port side, turning it around to head back out into the void. The view of Earth beyond the space station is tremendously beautiful, but as the ship turns, I realize that if my luck doesn’t change fast, I may not be seeing it again.
My chronometer couldn’t ever displace something so huge, but even if it could I’d only manage to send us all to the Neverwhere.
“What now?” My other self sounds genuinely worried.
“You have any ideas?” I reply. “If you do, now would be the time.”
A yellow light pops up on my viewfinder. The low oxygen warning. Figures.
The ship has finished making its turn and the main thrusters on the wings begin to glow with energy. Just as I am about to really start panicking, a section of the ship a little to my right sinks down and recesses inward, leaving a hole big enough to climb into. I don’t hesitate.
Scrambling along the surface I waste no time in sending myself tumbling into the hole. As soon as I’m inside, the section that recessed moves back into place and reseals the exterior hull. An influx of gases fills the space I’ve fallen into, and after a moment, the oxygen warning on my suit disappears. After another few seconds a new light illuminates on my display—Environment safe.
In Times Like These Boxed Set Page 155