“Good. There’s not much time. Let’s get set up, everyone.” Bonita waved at the tops of the crate stacks. “And someone tell that professor not to wander down here while we’re fighting.”
“Did she just take charge of my defense of the ship?” Johnny asked.
“I believe so, yes,” Qin said. “She’s a captain, you know.”
“And has the nickname of Laser. I look forward to seeing if this is earned.”
“It is. You’ll see.”
Johnny nodded and trotted off to find high ground of his own. Qin went to adjust the big crates to provide cover for the exit in case they needed to retreat.
It had been less than a week since Yas had briefly spoken to his parents and decided he was obligated to finish out the five years he’d promised to serve as Rache’s doctor. He already regretted it.
How was he supposed to run a blood analysis in the crude sickbay of a submarine under attack and springing leaks?
The lights went out, and he groaned at this additional obstacle. Whoever was in navigation had stopped firing torpedoes. Either because they’d run out or they couldn’t hit their targets.
As Yas stared at the glow of the display on his blood analyzer, he tried not to acknowledge the fear building in his chest. He tried not to think about how nobody would ever find them if their submarine went down here, about how the ocean was so deep that the vessel would implode after it fell to a certain depth and the pressure grew too great.
The result of the analysis popped up, and he swore as another reason to be afraid presented itself.
“Sir?” Yas had seen Rache run past sickbay a few seconds ago, and he leaned out.
Rache was in the corridor with Kim, tearing open ration packs and dumping gravy-slathered vat meat into a bag. Yas stared, too puzzled to speak. They filled the bag, cut a couple of holes in it, and Rache sprang into the airlock, slamming the hatch shut behind him.
Yas caught Kim’s gaze. “What is he doing?”
“Hoping they’re hungry,” she said.
“The drones attacking us?”
“They’re not drones. They’re creatures.”
“There’s no life on Xolas Moon, not even bacterial.”
“There are astroshamans and whatever life they created or brought with them.”
Yas looked toward a porthole as something glowing green zipped past. “Oh, like guard dogs?”
“Guard fish, it seems. Or maybe more like guard sharks.” Kim waved toward two mercenaries working to weld a leak. “Guard sharks that like the taste of submarine hulls.”
Yas grimaced. “And Rache is going out there with them?”
He would be in his armor, but if those creatures could harm a submarine hull, would that be enough?
“Just to drop the bait, I think.”
“Got a patch put in,” one of the mercenaries yelled. “We’re airtight again.”
The submarine lurched, and a new seam split. Water dribbled in.
“Never mind.”
Yas pushed a hand through his hair. This was madness.
Kim appeared far too calm for the situation. Her dark hair was back in a ponytail, and there wasn’t a single strand out of place.
Her gaze fell to the analyzer. “Did you find anything?”
“Yes.” Yas was reluctant to admit what. The last thing they needed was something else to worry about.
“Show me.” Kim’s eyes were intent.
Not curious, he thought. Maybe she already suspected.
He held out the display, knowing she would understand the finding by the scientific name that had popped up. “Do you know where he would have contracted it? Tiamat Station? It’s not like mankind has eradicated it, but it’s infrequent to find humans that are infected anymore.”
Yas grimaced at the thought of the virus already having had several days to incubate in Casmir’s system.
“We pulled a body out of one of the submarines before we left. A woman. I didn’t see the face or I would have known right away.”
Yas nodded. There were telltale splotches that appeared on the skin.
“The dead woman had been stabbed multiple times.” Kim tugged at her ponytail, the first time she’d showed any nerves that he’d seen. “At first, I assumed it was a crime of violence, something to do with the rebellion.”
“Someone must have recognized it and been terrified, thought killing her would stop it from infecting him or her.” Yas shook his head. “They probably weren’t in danger to start with. The only ones here who should be are Casmir and Rache.”
Neither of whom Yas wanted to lose when the team was depending on them to outsmart the very smart astroshamans.
“There’s not a cure, is there?” Kim asked. “Aside from the genetic modifications to a person’s mitochondria?”
Yas shook his head. “A simpler cure eluded scientists two hundred years ago. That’s why they were so desperate and made the genetic change—and why everyone rushed in for the treatment, even those in the gene-modification-hating Kingdom.”
“And since that worked, and the change was hereditary, nobody’s been that motivated to keep studying it to find a way to eradicate the virus.” Kim shook her head.
Yas shrugged helplessly. She knew this information as well as he did. They had read the same articles. If anything, she probably knew more.
“Kim?” Casmir called back.
She leaned out of sickbay to look at him.
“Where’d Rache go?”
“He stepped out temporarily.”
Yas didn’t see Casmir mouth “stepped out” but imagined that he did.
“When you see him, tell him I’ve found the base.”
“Good. I will.” Kim leaned back into sickbay. “Do you have any drugs that might boost his immune system or at least act as a palliative to make him feel better until…” She flexed her hand. “We’ll have to figure something out.”
“Yes, I have both. And some people did survive.” He smiled, hoping it was encouraging.
“Fewer than ten percent. It almost wiped out humanity. And those who survived were usually people in excellent health to start with.”
“Casmir and Rache are in the prime of their lives.”
She grimaced. “Casmir has a handful of health issues. I don’t know if…” She swallowed, moisture gleaming in her eyes. “Just prepare anything you’ve got that will give him a good chance. I need to think about this.”
Think about it? What did she think she could do? Concoct some bacteria to eat the virus? Or more likely a virophage. But thousands of smart people had tried that two hundred years before. Yas was sure there had been numerous advances since anyone had seriously tried, but what could she do down here? In a submarine in the middle of a forsaken ocean? A submarine under attack?
Although…
“Has the attack stopped?” Yas asked.
They hadn’t been struck for several minutes. All he could hear were the grunts and clangs of the mercenaries working to patch the leaks.
Kim blinked and looked up—her mind had clearly been elsewhere. “I think so.”
The inner airlock hatch squeaked as it opened. Rache, water dripping from his armor, stepped in and removed his helmet. The bag was gone.
“They’re eating the stuff,” Rache said, looking into sickbay. “I’m not sure how long it will keep them busy. If they come back, I want some poison to shove in the food.” He looked expectantly at Yas.
“I didn’t bring any poisons along. I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea what would work on sea life imported from who knows where.”
“Make some guesses, Doctor,” Rache said. “The other submarines might be getting attacked too. I’m going to have to risk opening the comm to warn them. And until we locate the base—”
“Casmir found it.” Kim pointed toward his seat. “I’m sure he can give your pilot directions.”
“Good.” Rache started toward him, but Yas leaned out and caught his wrist.
“Sir, wait. Y
ou need to see this.” Yas held up the display and lowered his voice to say, “Casmir contracted the Great Plague. You may get it too.”
Whatever Rache’s reaction was, the mask hid it, and his tone was dry as he said, “I guess I should have been more concerned about him breathing on me.”
12
Qin crouched atop a high stack of crates, surveying the cargo hold from the position that Bonita had chosen for herself. At Qin’s insistence—and Johnny had chimed in his agreement—Bonita was closest to the exit into the corridor, their escape route if they were overwhelmed and had to retreat.
Shortly, Qin would head over to the spot she’d chosen on the other side of the cargo hold, ensuring they had the most coverage possible for shooting at their enemies while staying out of each other’s crossfire. Johnny had claimed a spot near the airlock hatch. They had also set traps on the deck.
Would Captain Amazing’s men rush straight in and bumble into them? Or hurl out grenades or other projectiles first? They had to expect that the crew would defend the ship, but hopefully, they would be overly confident when they saw only three life signs aboard. The loaded droids wouldn’t appear on any scans.
“Bonita,” Viggo’s voice came over their helmet comms. “My long-range scanners show that the Maze Runner has stopped near the undamaged airlock. I estimate they’ll have their tube extended, locked on, and be ready to board within ten minutes.”
“Thank you, Viggo.”
“Captain Amazing commed the Dragon to threaten you. I answered and said you were too busy having vigorous sex with a passenger to reply in person.”
“That seems as likely an excuse as any.”
Johnny was walking over, and Qin wondered if he could hear Viggo’s words.
“What did he say?” Bonita added.
“That old women having sex was gross.”
“It most certainly is not, and I’m not old. I’m mature. But what I meant is did he sound suspicious?”
“Ah,” Viggo said. “I don’t believe so. There’s no reason he would expect you to stay behind to defend another ship, right?”
“Right. Because there is no reason a sane captain would have done that.” Bonita shook her head.
Qin raised her eyebrows, fearing she had regrets. She hoped Bonita wouldn’t be hurt in this altercation. Or worse. Qin had never intended to talk her into helping.
“Do you have any unofficial updates to your will that you would like to make in case your plan doesn’t work out?” Was Viggo thinking along the same lines?
They were probably being overly pessimistic. Qin hoped the would-be salvagers would back away when they realized they had a real fight on their hands. All they stood to gain was money, which wasn’t a prize worth dying for.
“No, I’m not leaving you to Casmir,” Bonita said, as if they’d had this conversation before. “Professors don’t make enough money to pay the loans and taxes on spaceships.”
“It is an unfortunate universe that we live in.”
“Tell me about it.”
“In any case, I shall wish you and Qin luck. Oh, and furthermore, you may wish to thoroughly embarrass and injure Captain Amazing, if you get the chance.”
“Why?” Bonita asked. “Did he insult your vacuums or call you a garbage scow again?”
“He threatened to chase us down and blow us out of the stars if we took anything but people off the Machu Picchu. And then he called me a garbage scow.”
“At least he didn’t call you old.”
“Which is ironic, since I’m far more mature than you.”
“You’re older. You’re not more mature.”
“We disagree,” Viggo said. “Qin will have to be consulted for the tie-breaking vote.”
Before Qin had to irk one of them with that vote, Johnny stopped at the base of the stack of crates and looked up at them.
“You’re in my sights, Toes.” Bonita tapped the rifle she’d set up, its tiny legs extended like a tripod for extra stability.
“So you won’t miss seeing my handsome face.”
“Is it somewhere under those ugly tattoos?”
“You don’t think the daggers enhance my cheekbones?” Johnny touched one and raised his eyebrows. “The tattoo artist said they did.”
“How much were you paying her?”
“She got a good tip.”
“I bet.”
Johnny lowered his hand, his face growing more serious. He looked at Qin, then Bonita, then opened his mouth, but the door slid aside before he spoke.
Beaumont and Kelsey-Sato walked in, making an odd couple even by galactic standards.
“The smugglers will be boarding any minute,” Bonita said. “You two might want to hide in a storage locker together. On the other side of the ship. Assuming you’re not here to fight.”
Beaumont looked down at the pink Lady Shufflebottom and over at the comparatively drab stunner Kelsey-Sato had borrowed from the Dragon’s armory. “No,” he said, “that is not our intent. We merely wished to inform you that their ship is about to dock, but it sounds like you are aware of this.”
“Yup,” Bonita said.
“We also wish to thank you for helping us.” Kelsey-Sato lifted one of her furred hands toward Johnny, but she also included Qin and Bonita with the gesture. “We are simple civilians working for the university, so we can’t offer a reward, but I will be pleased to mention you in the acknowledgments of the book I’m putting together.”
“What’s the book on?” Johnny asked.
Qin wondered which name he would give her to use in those acknowledgments. Surely, no book had ever been dedicated to a Johnny Twelve Toes.
“It’s a collection of numerous papers I’ve done on the gate network and the gates themselves,” Kelsey-Sato said. “I hope to be able to update the material with new data soon.”
“I’ve never been mentioned in a book,” Bonita said.
“Nobody’s written about the exploits of Laser Lopez?” Johnny asked.
“No.”
“Maybe you should be giving passage to authors instead of roboticists,” Kelsey-Sato said.
“I don’t know,” Bonita said. “I got new knees, thanks to Casmir.”
“It would be helpful if he were here now,” Kelsey-Sato said. “If we’d been able to get the drive engines back online, we could have flown away from these disreputable intruders.”
A warning flash came from the panel next to the airlock. Another ship’s tube was attaching.
“Positions,” Bonita barked toward Qin and Johnny. “And a storage locker for you two.” She pointed at Beaumont and Kelsey-Sato.
“Do you think she would be recommending such a location if we still had human bodies?” Beaumont asked Kelsey-Sato.
“I don’t know. I was petite even when I was human.” She guided him toward the exit.
“I was told I was chosen because my android body was considered an advantage for this mission. Storage lockers weren’t mentioned.”
They slipped off into the corridor, and the door slid shut on the rest of their conversation.
Qin hopped down, but Johnny lifted a hand. He hadn’t yet headed for his chosen spot.
“Before this starts, I want to thank you both for coming to help. I wasn’t expecting that.” Johnny nodded at Qin and held Bonita’s gaze longer. None of his usual sarcasm twisted his lips. “I hope you won’t regret it.”
“Me too.” Bonita shooed him toward his spot.
Johnny smiled, bowed to her, and complied.
Qin ran to her chosen stack of crates, ensuring it was stable, then sprang twenty feet to the top. She dropped to her belly, one leg crooked, her elbows braced to hold up the rifle she’d chosen, and she sighted the airlock hatch.
She also shrugged her Brockinger off her back, but she wouldn’t use the explosive rounds until their enemies were well inside. She didn’t want to blow a hole in the hull and cause them all to be blown out into space. Besides, there were explosives planted on the deck below, charg
es designed to detonate upward without damaging what lay underneath.
The main lighting was still offline, but Johnny must have gained access to the auxiliary systems, because once he was in position, the emergency guidance lights along the deck disappeared, and it grew dark inside, the control panels by the doors shedding the only illumination.
Qin could still see. Anyone who entered in combat armor would have night vision and still be able to see until…
She drew a few smoke grenades out, ready to deploy them. Bonita and Johnny also had some. They’d raided the Dragon’s armory so they could give these smugglers a hard time.
The airlock hatch whispered open, and Qin focused. At first, nobody came out. Then three canisters lofted into the hold.
Qin almost fired, but they weren’t coming near any of them, and she recognized them as smoke grenades. They clattered to the deck, spewing their contents. It seemed everyone had the same idea.
Bonita snorted softly, the comm just picking it up.
Once the camouflage of smoke was provided, a team of twelve armored men raced into the cargo hold. Qin and Bonita calmly laid down fire.
The armored intruders weren’t hurt, and indignant shouts of “Up there!” and “Ambush!” echoed through the hold.
While they were distracted firing upward, two men stepped on the explosives planted on the deck, the smoke having obscured them. Booms thundered from the walls, and a man screamed.
Qin, her heart hardened to these opportunists who were willing to kill a crew to salvage their ship, switched to her Brockinger. She fired at the men, knowing her explosive rounds would blow through their armor—and knock them across the hold.
Bonita fired relentlessly, sticking with her rifle, but she’d been the one to lay most of the charges on the deck, and even with the smoke, she found them with uncanny accuracy. The men stepped on some of them, but she detonated far more, her crimson DEW-Tek bolts slamming into them.
The chain of booms hurt Qin’s sensitive ears, but she did her best to filter it out. Someone moved in the smoke below her crates, and she fired.
“Where’s Toes?” Bonita growled, not stopping her own firing. “He shot twice and then disappeared.”
Gate Quest (Star Kingdom Book 5) Page 19