Trace the Stars

by Nancy Fulda

  Loralee went ashen-faced. “Two lines? What’s the other line?”

  Roger traced the other line back to a valve on a different pipe.

  Roger’s eyes opened wide as he almost yelled, “Oxygen? You mean to tell me he turned the storage room into a bomb?”

  Loralee said, “I didn’t think to check the oxygen tank since there was no alarm.”

  “Yeah, it has different alarm thresholds since we use it for lots of things.” He sat in thought for a moment and then continued, “That does it for me. I say we pile into the emergency pods and let Cloud One handle the damage control. Fixing this ain’t what we signed up for. Let’s go tell Pen.”

  The station’s two pods could each hold two people, so the station had a maximum crew of four. The highly durable pods had life support and an emergency beacon, as well as an automated flight control system which would activate upon launch. It was possible to override the launch flight path, but the default action de-orbited the escape pod, landing in a New Mexico desert.

  They entered the command center with the large plastic toolbox to see Pen looking through Phil’s duffel bag.

  Pen held out a book. “Did any of you know he followed the Anti-Orbiters? They protest the exploration and use of space and believe money spent in orbit is wasted, or even dangerous. They’re anti-research and anti-expansion. They’ve become more radical lately.”

  Loralee gaped. “I had no idea. Sure, he’s a putz, but I never pegged him as loony. Maybe that’s why he tried to steal all my seeds.” She hadn’t ever tried to keep her research secret from the other crew members since they used the ring daily.

  “You’ve been breeding plants for orbit-friendly traits. They have better survivability, higher radiation resistance, and whatever else you’ve been breeding into them. Remember, Anti-Orbiters? They hate everything you stand for in your research.”

  Roger held his hands up like a sports timeout signal. “Hold on, everybody. From what we know, he’s trying to blow up the station, and you’re worried about seeds? He’s a total nut bar! If he’s with the Anti-Orbiters, then we have even more reason to bail and let the pros deal with the problem.” He opened the case and pulled out one of the remote switches, handling it with a great deal more care now he suspected what it could trigger. “I think he put some of these switches out, but I don’t know what they do. My guess is it’s something designed to make our room full of volatile gas explode. We need to leave the station, and we need to do it now!”

  Pen said, “I think he planned to leave, too, except he drank himself into a coma. Thank heaven for idiot alcoholics. I like Roger’s idea. We get in the pods, eject, and wait for pickup. We can put the pods into a holding pattern rather than drop us out of orbit.”

  Loralee said, “Then we take him with us.”

  Pen tilted her head to the side in confusion. “Take him with? Why?”

  Loralee replied, “Because we’re better than that. Besides, I don’t want him to blow himself up with the station. More than our lives are at stake. You two can take one of the pods if you like, but we have room for four between the two pods. Four of us leave. He’s a total jerk and wants to kill us all, but he’s a human being.”

  Roger gave a matter-of-fact shrug and said, “Fine by me. I’ll go open them up. Be ready to go in five minutes.” He pushed off and coasted through the door to the main hall.

  Pen pulled herself up to the console with the Spider’s camera view. An error blinked on the screen.

  “What is it?” Loralee coasted near to look over Pens shoulder.

  Pen said, “It saw an obstruction and stopped. It never made it past the docking ring.” She panned the camera around until she saw something clamped onto the ring. “See that? It looks like one of those accursed switches.”

  Loralee’s eyes went wide with horror as she realized what else Phil had done on his spacewalk, and that more switches could be in place anywhere on the station. “He put out traps.” She turned to the door and yelled, “Roger! Don’t open the hatches!” She shot out into the hall at racing speed and repeated her warning as she arrowed toward the escape pod hatches.

  She arrived as Roger exited the first escape pod. He said, “What’s all the yelling for?”

  “Booby traps! He set switches up as traps! I’ve spotted one on the docking ring. He had time to put more of them out. He could have put them anywhere.”

  Pen yelled from down the hall. “Spotted another. It’s on the outside of the airlock door.”

  Roger looked around and then reached out to grab one of the handholds to keep from drifting. “Okay. Slow and careful-like. I’ll inspect the other escape pod door while you watch. You keep hold of my feet, so I don’t drift into anything.”

  Loralee wedged her toes into two of the handholds across the hall to stabilize her position then grabbed Roger’s ankles while he went hand over hand to get into position for a close look at the second hatch.

  Roger talked himself through each step. “It’s not sealed tight. See the gap?” He held on with one hand while he got his mirror-tipped pen from his pocket. “I’ll check around the edges. He probably left it ajar on purpose.”

  A tense half-minute went by as Roger eased his tiny mirror into various nooks and crannies around the door while Loralee held his legs steady as a rock. At each position, he muttered, “Nope.” She wanted to warn him of cramps forming in her hands, but he grunted and pulled back away from the door before she could speak.

  Loralee let out a sigh of relief. “So it’s okay?”

  “Nope. I finally got a good view of the far side of the hinge. It’s trapped. I might could get it out without pushing the button, but I ain’t sure. Now see, this is why I left the Marines and got a safe civilian job.”

  Loralee wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he’d done in the military if living on an experimental space station was considered a safe job. She said, “So if you had opened this escape pod hatch first . . .”

  Roger flicked his fingers out as he said, “Boom.”

  Pen, who had stopped a safe distance down the hall to keep from distracting them, said, “So we can only evacuate two, we can’t use the airlock, and if we wait for the shuttle from Cloud One to arrive, it will hit the switch on the docking ring. And if we bump anything too hard, like with the one working escape pod, we might blow up the station anyway!” She grew louder and angrier as she spoke. She finished, almost at a yell, “That tears it. He’s covered all the bases!”

  Pen’s outburst devolved into a convoluted stream of curses aimed at Phil which ranged from his uneducated choice in music to his toiletry habits.

  Roger looked impressed. “Ain’t never heard half of those before.” He winked at Loralee to lighten the mood. “Guess she’s finally mad now.”

  Loralee thought for a moment. “Roger, we know where he put all the oxygen and propane. How much adjacent wall space do we have? It wouldn’t make sense to have an active detonator earlier because he could press a button by accident, like with the escape pod door or the airlock trigger.”

  She knew Roger had most of the mechanics and layout of the station memorized, so she waited as he looked up in thought and ticked off something on his fingers.

  Finally, he said, “We got about thirty linear meters of hallway and forty meters of maintenance crawlway. It’s divided between where he put in the new piping and a second hall across the top of the storage area.” He seemed to catch on to her idea as he continued, “Do either of you know the mechanical systems well enough to spot something out of place in the pipe runs?”

  Both women shook their heads.

  Loralee said, “Not if he tried to hide it and make it match the other equipment. I’ll come along with you as a gofer. Pen, can you cover the electronics side and watch for anything unusual?”

  Pen said, “That sounds good, but I think we’re pretty well past unusual by now. I can put the spider out where the shuttle can see it’s in the way. They won’t dock until we can get those switches cleare
d.” She paused in thought, then continued, “Could I drill from outside to empty the explosive gas? It might take a while, but I think the spider’s battery could last long enough.”

  Roger shook his head. “There’s too much chance of sparks or heat. It might set it off instead. Better to park it in the way of docking like you said. Best chance is to find and disarm the detonator since it might could destroy the station even without the explosive gas. We can’t tell how much damage it can do, so we have to assume the worst.”

  Loralee tagged along behind Roger as they traversed the main hallway. Roger pulled himself into and out of the crawlways as they searched. He had crawled into a tube up to his ankles when she heard a yell, followed by Roger breathing hard and fast.

  She asked, “Need me to pull you out?”

  His breathing slowed to about twice its normal pace, and he replied, “No. Not yet. Got a box strapped in place, and it’s plugged into the network. The network cable has its lock tab removed, so it came out when I bumped it.”

  Loralee asked, “So didn’t he hook it up then? Can you move it?”

  Roger said, “A timer counted down from three minutes when the network connector fell out. It stopped counting when I plugged it back in. It says two minutes and fifty-six seconds now. I think it’s a failsafe. If we unplug this thing for more than three minutes, it goes off no matter what.”

  Loralee talked her way through the options. “Airlock? No. It’s rigged. Keep it plugged in? We could get a cable without the broken tab, but it could have another internal timer. We have to get it off the station, and I see only one good way to do it.”

  Roger chimed in, his breathing close to normal now. He drawled, “Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.”

  Loralee gave a nervous laugh. Her adrenaline levels were pretty high, but she couldn’t imagine what Roger felt as he sat face to face with a detonator. “So, you read Sherlock Holmes, huh?”

  He replied, “Yup. I read them all as a teenager. Now, what’s your improbable option? I’m a little distracted here, what with the detonator and all.”

  “We can eject it using the working escape pod. The default program to de-orbit should get it away from us fast enough. It goes off once it’s well away from us. That will cut down the local debris if it blows apart.”

  Roger said, “Okay then. I’ve got nothing better. I need to cut some tie straps loose. Hand me the wire cutters from the toolbox, then get out the red can of leak-stop adhesive foam. We also need Pen.”

  She handed the cutters past his leg and asked, “What do you need the foam for?”

  “That’s not for me. That’s for Pen to spray into the opening of the other escape pod hatch. It’ll set up and hold it in place so the launch can’t bump the door’s trigger. Give her the can and the instructions, and then get set to fly this box down the hall.”

  Loralee handed off the can to Pen who sprayed it around the opening to the booby-trapped escape pod. The foam, a special adhesive designed to set in ten seconds, held the door in place so it could no longer shift if it got bumped. Pen said, “I’m starting to feel a bit punchy here from lack of sleep, so I’m not taking chances. I gave it a good slathering. I pity the person who has to clean up this foam.”

  Loralee said, “With any luck, that’ll be us. I need a practice run so we can time it. Be ready at the hatch with the spray can. I’ll stop long enough for you to spray it, and then I’ll stick it inside the escape pod. The can should have plenty of glue for a test run with a fake detonator. I don’t want a bomb rattling around loose when a three-gee booster goes off.”

  Pen said, “Got it. You fly to me and stop, I spray the box, and then you stick it inside. You come out, we shut and latch the door, and then we hit the launch button.”

  Loralee fingered the activation tag used to enable the launch sequence. “Pull the safety tag after my test run. We don’t want to launch it empty by accident.”

  Back where Roger’s feet poked out into the hall, she asked, “What are the rough dimensions? I need a practice box.”

  At first, he lay still, but after a few seconds he shifted in position. “Yeah, I can measure this for you.”

  “Did you fall asleep?”

  “Nah. Just sending off a prayer.”

  “I never took you for the religious type, Roger.”

  He answered, “I don’t parade it around, but I spend time on my relationship with God pretty regular-like. You never know when you might end up face to face with Him. But you asked for measurements. Let’s see. I’d estimate about ten by twenty by fifty centimeters.”

  “Great. I’ll use one of the smaller toolboxes for a test run. Are you holding up okay? I’m not as ready as you are to meet God right now.”

  Roger said, “My fingers are a bit stiff, but I think your plan will work out okay. I suspect you’ll die of old age surrounded by a horde of beautiful, intelligent great-grandchildren.”

  She couldn’t tell if he said it to ease her stress levels, but it worked regardless. She transferred tools from a small toolbox into the larger box and prepared for her test run.

  She called down the hall, “Pen, ready to start a timer on my mark? Three, two, one, mark!”

  She sat in place to allow for the time it would take to pull Roger out, then grabbed hold of the toolbox and shot down the hall at full speed.

  Her time on the college swim team meant she knew how to do a flip turn at the bend in the passage. She pulled and kicked her way down the straightaway to where Pen waited, then flipped and stopped herself against the handholds with her feet.

  Pen gave the toolbox a quick spray of foam, and Loralee sprang into the escape pod and mounted the toolbox to one of the seats, holding it in place until the foam hardened and locked it in place.

  She pulled herself back out, then called, “Time!”

  Pen looked at her chronometer. “Just under fifty seconds. We will have over two minutes for the escape pod to boost away. That will be plenty of time. Worst case, even if it doesn’t contain the explosion and the whole pod turns into shrapnel, the parts will all travel away from us by then and should burn up in the atmosphere. I hope.” She pulled out a data tablet. “Let me aim the spider’s camera along the pod trajectory to record it.” She tapped for a few moments then continued, “We’re as ready as we’ll ever be. If we’re alive ten minutes from now, I’ll buy you a drink.”

  Loralee checked the toolbox. The foam had sealed it down tight, so she drifted back to Roger and tapped him on the foot. “Are we ready to do this? Do you need to work on your relationship some more?”

  Roger answered from inside the access way, “Nah, we’re good. Give me a countdown, and then pull me out. I’ve got the detonator with both hands.”

  “On my mark again. Three, two, one, mark.” She pulled on his feet with her own feet braced against the wall next to the narrow access tube. Roger’s head glanced off the corner on his way out, causing him to grunt in pain.

  He steadied himself and handed off the package. “You have control. Fly, girl.”

  The practice should have made the real trip feel more ordinary and less terrifying. Neither was true. Loralee’s adrenaline rushed through her bloodstream as she shot down the hall with the box. Its timer counted down in a cool, monotonous parody of her emotions as she flip-turned at the corner.

  Pen pulled the pod’s safety lock free as Loralee approached.

  Loralee got a better grip on the container as she flew to meet Pen, and noticed the back of it had a recessed area. As she stopped, she gasped out, “Use more foam. It’s not flat.”

  Pen, ready with the can, slathered on a double portion and called out, “Go!”

  Loralee pushed through the escape pod door and flattened the container against the second seat, then held it in place with her forearms. With the odd shape and their good safety margin, she decided to press it into place a little longer to guarantee it sealed down tight to the seat.

 
; She felt the warmth as the foam cured, then heaved a sigh of relief. As she let go, she realized why she had felt the heat from the foam. It had sealed her right forearm to the side of the box where excess foam had squeezed out.

  “Got a problem, Pen. I’m stuck. The foam sealed me to the box!”

  Pen yelled, “Stuck? Pull it loose!”

  “Working on it. I can’t reach any farther than the inside control pad. Hurry to the hallway first-aid kit down by Roger and get the yellow spray can from it. Now!”

  Loralee tried various forms of leverage to peel her arm loose, and then gave up on halfway measures. She planted her feet on both sides of the box and pushed with all she had.

  She screamed as a narrow strip of skin pulled away, now a permanent part of the escape pod.

  Loralee pulled herself out with her good arm, leaving a crimson smear wherever her bad arm touched.

  She pulled the hatch closed and jabbed the launch button and held it in as its calm prerecorded message called out, “Ejecting in four, three, two, one, Eject. Eject. Eject.”

  The walls rumbled as the pod detached and its boosters fired, shooting it away from the station at three gravities.

  Loralee heard the vilest curses she’d ever heard from around the corner, interspersed with her name. She looked up in time to see Pen execute a spin-turn to rival her own and rocket up the hall toward her. Pen froze mid-flight, mouth agape and holding a yellow can from the first aid kit.

  Loralee tried to catch Pen with her good arm as Roger also came around the corner.

  Pen yelled, “You got me out of the way! I thought you had ejected yourself with the pod! You don’t even need this, do you?” She waved the can at Loralee.