“Mon chéri,” Desi broke his reverie. “The captain ordered an orbit change once the cargo has been retrieved. Lt. Pascal will meet you in the bay.”
“Roger that, Desi.” What now?
His light amplification faded out as lights flickered on in the bay ahead. Eric and his team unhooked and kicked off the comet fragment, reorienting to land boots down. He absorbed most of the landing with bent legs and his boots jerked as the maglocks engaged. While his team of miscreants filed through the airlock, Eric watched the ice comet shard drift into the bay and strike the makeshift cradle the engineers had cobbled together.
Eric winced as vibrations from the bowing cradle shot up his legs. Cracks spidered across the fragment’s surface. Smaller chunks and ice dust leapt from the fragment and bounced off the deck below. After a few unnerving seconds, both the cradle and the comet stilled.
“Guess the engineers earned their pay, eh, Friedrich?”
Eric glanced over his shoulder to find Lt. Pascal.
“I’d say so, sir. Wasn’t sure if the cradle was going to collapse or if the fragment was going to shatter like the first one did.”
Pascal nodded and sighed, “Yeah, what a pain in the ass.”
Eric shifted his weight as he glanced about the hanger before asking, “So, LT, why are we staying out here and not going in with the others?”
“Sensors guys picked up an object nearby,” Pascal replied. Eric felt vibrations through his boots and grabbed for the nearby stanchion as the Fortune’s acceleration pulled at him. “We’re matching orbits and checking it out.”
“Nothing out here but ice, sir. What’s worth burning fuel when we’re low as it is?”
The lieutenant smiled.
Eric asked, “What?”
“You’re right, Friedrich. There’s supposed to be nothing out here but ice. This thing, whatever it is, has too much mass to be just ice. At least that’s what Simon told the captain.”
“So an honest asteroid?”
“Not likely. Our sensors are still jacked up and the cloud isn’t helping. Return’s unusual for an asteroid or a comet fragment at this orbital. We’ll find out shortly. Should be alongside in five or six minutes, so you’ve got time to change out tanks.”
Eric shrugged and walked over to the stowage locker to do as suggested.
Weird, but whatever. Just want to hit my rack, but I guess that’s not happening any time soon.
At least Lieutenant Pascal’s estimate turned out to be accurate. Eric’s clock had just ticked over six minutes when he noticed an irregular arc of black occluding the starscape behind it. Lack of light and reference points made judging scale difficult, but the shadow was easily larger than the Fortune, possibly by several times. The lieutenant glanced back at him and the others that had filtered in over the last few minutes.
“Okay, duty nav is telling me we’ve matched vectors. The plan is pretty simple, go over there and find out what’s special about it. Radar doesn’t show any fast moving debris nearby so random strikes aren’t likely anymore, but be cautious anyway, we’ve already lost too many people. Keep your eyes open, and stay in contact. Friedrich, you’re with me.”
Eric nodded and one by one the men around him disengaged their maglocks and pushed off toward the silent shadow overhead. Eric and the lieutenant were traversing the gap when the Fortune’s dorsal observation lights flickered to life. Only a quarter of the infrared spotlights had activated. Half of those flickered and failed, but the handful of that remained gave more than enough light to amplify. At first glance, Eric was inclined to dismiss the behemoth before them as just another dirty ice ball circling the outer reaches of a barren system, but an odd shadow lurked just below the surface.
Eric toggled his radio and said, “Hey, LT, you tracking that shadow? Our one o’clock?”
“Good eye,” Lt. Pascal commented.
Eric beamed as they adjusted their approach to touch down where it seemed closest to the surface. Pascal unholstered a small pistol and fired a piton into the ice. Tethering to it, he motioned for Eric to do the same. “Fortune, how do you read?”
“Signal is loud and clear, Pascal,” the Fortune’s communications officer replied.
“I’ve got my men covering elsewhere, but I believe we’ve found your artifact.”
“Any ideas, lieutenant?” a rough voice cut into the channel.
“Nothing certain. Whatever it is, it’s big and appears to be embedded in the ice, Captain.”
“Continue your investigation, Pascal,” Captain Fox replied.
“Aye, sir.”
Over the next fifteen minutes, Pascal directed the others to join them as their own searches came up dry.
“Fortune, I believe we’ve located the thinnest part of the ice, but we’ll need equipment to get through,” Pascal transmitted.
Eric’s heart beat a bit faster as he waited for the reply. This thing is huge. What the hell is it?
“Pascal, have your men return to the Fortune. We’re sending Ensign Winters and a few others from engineering over. You’re to remain to coordinate.”
Lieutenant Pascal looked over at Eric, “Permission to keep Friedrich with me?”
Another pause.
“Granted, but he’s your headache, Pascal,” Captain Fox replied.
Eric rolled his eyes. The officers always acted like having him around was a chore, but they never passed up the opportunity to have him nearby.
Lieutenant Pascal glanced at him. “Before you ask, and I know you’re going to, Winters spent a decade as an asteroid miner. Foreman by the time he quit, if I recall. If anyone can crack this quickly and safely, he can. There’s a reason he led the planning effort for cracking that last one.”
Moving shadows across the ice surface caught his eye and Eric looked up. Several vac sleds traversed one of the spotlights just forward of the aft cargo transit bay. According to his few acquaintances in maintenance, the sleds were difficult to work on and spent more time under repair than they did under operation.
“Lieutenant Pascal, Ensign Winters and engineering team on approach. I figured we could bring a few air tanks in addition to our gear so you two can top off.”
“Roger that, Ensign. Good thinking,” Pascal replied.
Thanks to the extra reaction mass, the sleds approached much faster than his team had and were spiked and tethered in half the time it had taken Eric’s group to arrive. While his team unstrapped their equipment, Winters attached a corded black wand to his tablet and slowly waved it about while pacing a circle around Eric and Lt. Pascal.
Eric’s radio crackled as Ensign Winters addressed his crew. “Tori, Spinks, set the base up over here, tether it off at least ten meters. Azarov, Church, help them set up the inductance drill when they’ve got the base anchored. Everybody else back off, there’s a hollow chamber underneath us. It might have atmosphere, so there’s a chance we’ll have some decompression when we breach it.”
The team carefully assembled the base, anchored it, and then mounted a large bore drill piece.
“Captain, Pascal. Winters is activating the inductance drill.”
“Carry on.”
The flat bit descended to the surface and slowly rotated against it for several moments before water began to climb its sides and the bit began to descend. Eric noticed most of water slipped up the surface of the drill bit into a collar instead of puffing off into space. He shot an inquiring glance at Winters.
“Hydrophilic surface coating. Draws the liquid to a chamber so it can be reclaimed. The umbilical from the drill to the sled carries more than just electricity, Friedrich,” Winters explained. The ensign’s eyes darted back to the drill. “Careful, slow the bit!”
Before the operators could react, the slow stream of liquid water became a jet and then shards of ice and liquid water burst forth lightning quick in all directions.
“Shit! Kill the power!” Winters yelled over the shocked voices that filled the channel. Eric flung his hands up to shield
his face. Ice pinged off his visor and pelted his suit. A shadow passed overhead and more ice pelted him from behind moments later.
The chaos on the channel squelched out, overridden by the ship’s command channel. “Pascal, Fortune. Status?”
“We had a blow-out, Captain. Pocket had atmosphere. Temp and pressure were higher than Winters expected. One minute.”
One by one, the team called out their status as the ice cloud dispersed. The drill was gone, so was the sled it had been secured to. A ragged hole slightly larger than the drill base remained where their equipment had been. Checking behind him, Eric spotted the battered sled and the drill. The drill had been blown off the ice by the decompression and uprooted its tethers on the way out. Held by the umbilical and the sled’s anchor, instead of shooting straight out, it had followed an arc and imbedded itself in the ice behind them.
“Fortune, Pascal. No injuries to the crew, though we’re patching two suit leaks. The drill and the sled it was attached to might be a loss though.”
Captain Fox sighed over the radio. “At least the crew’s safe. Carry on.”
While the team gathered at the bore, Ensign Winters smirked and said, “Now you see why I got out of ice mining, Friedrich. Too fucking dangerous.”
“Hey, that thing still had the price tags on it when we pulled it out of the crate. Do you think it’s still under warranty?” Church asked. His question brought several chuckles.
“Fortune, Pascal. Looks like the blow-out opened up a chimney of some sort, too narrow to traverse. Bends out of sight about three meters in. We’ll need some time to widen it.”
“Pascal, Fortune. You’ve got three hours before we need to leave.”
“Acknowledged, Fortune,” Pascal replied.
Eric stared down at the darkened hole, imagining what might lay at the other side. Nothing’s been all that dangerous so far. Could be something valuable, maybe I can get a bonus for going above and beyond? Wait, or what if there’s nothing down there? We could be back home three hours sooner if I do this. Either way, that works.
“Sir,” Eric said before Lieutenant Pascal could issue orders.
“Yes, Friedrich?”
“If I ditched my propulsion pack, I think I could fit.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, sir. Looks like it would be tight, but I should be able to manage.”
“Fortune, Pascal. Spacer Friedrich has volunteered to enter the chimney while we widen it. Any objections?” Pascal asked.
“Provided he knows the risks, none,” the Captain replied.
“Roger, Fortune. I’ll keep you updated. Friedrich, give me your pack. Winters, did you bring a SAR belt on one of those sleds?”
“Standard load includes a search and rescue belt, LT. Church, grab the one from your sled,” Winters said.
“Friedrich, you familiar with what’s on a SAR belt?” Pascal asked.
“Part of my cross-training, sir,” Eric told him.
“Good. Well, no time like the present, off you go. Stay on the radio.”
Eric nodded as he handed his pack over and slid into the shaft. He passed through several meters of jagged ice before the surface suddenly smoothed out at the curve. Continuing on, the ice smoothed into a clean sheen, like it had melted and refrozen dozens of times.
Eric paused when he came to a bend and pondered what that meant a moment before toggling his radio.
“Well, Lieutenant, the shaft continues at least another eight meters after the curve. It curves again, upwards. Uh, up relative to my face. Would be straight ahead if you haven’t moved since I crawled down here, I think. It’s weird, LT. Ice is real slick down here. Still frozen, but it looks almost like glass.”
“Got that. How’s the fit?”
“Well, not too bad actually. I suppose now is a bad time to point out I’m mildly claustrophobic?” Eric commented as he pulled himself through the narrow tube.
Pause. “No, now would not be a good time for that. What else?” Pascal replied with mild amusement.
“Past the curve it starts getting narrower. Sec, I’m going to see if I can squeeze through,” Eric said, looking at a particularly narrow spot.
God I hate tight spaces.
Pushing further in meant he had to crane his head to the side to get his helmet to fit through. Using fingers and toes, he scooted against the ice hugging him from every direction. And then he stopped.
Fuck.
The top of his helmet hadn’t hit anything. He couldn’t get any traction with his fingers and his boots only slid across the ice behind him to similar effect. He was stuck.
You’ve got to be shitting me. No, calm down. Calm. Down. Nobody’s getting stuck out here. Help is only like ten minutes away. Breathe in. Breathe out. Fuck me. Stop panicking, asshole.
“Panic kills,” Eric whispered to himself repeatedly as beads of sweat trailed down his forehead. “Panic kills, asshole. Okay, what are we going to do? We’re not stuck, life just hates us. Narrow tunnel, no traction. Make ourselves smaller? How? Right.”
Eric exhaled, forcing every bit of air out of his lungs that he could and tried pushing off with his boots. He moved forward a few centimeters.
Fuck yeah. With the ice even tighter around him, he couldn’t inhale completely. Aw fuck. Keep going, keep going, asshole. A few more centimeters, and even tighter than before. Maybe I should turn back. Ah shit, how? He toggled the oxygen saturation with a chin switch, breathed what little he could, and then pushed again.
He drifted into a much wider open space, a chasm filled with ice glass, stalactite-like spikes, and frost everywhere.
“Friedrich?” Concern colored Pascal’s voice.
“I’m okay,” Eric panted into his radio. “Almost didn’t fit, but I’m through. Far side is, ah, interesting.”
“How so?”
Eric panned his light across the chamber. “Chamber, bigger. Lots bigger. There’s something in here, huge. Looks like maybe the ice melted away from it. Suit’s detecting radiation, alpha and beta particles mostly. There’s only one area I can really get to. It’s coated with frost. Give me a second, I’ll try to clear some off.” Eric braced himself against the ceiling of the chamber and began brushing back frost to reveal their prize. “It’s--this is a hull plate.”
“Say again, Friedrich. Hull plate?”
“Yeah. It looks brand new. Different from most of the plating I’ve seen before, shinier but more dull at the same time if that makes sense? Uh, I’ve found something. Looks like it might be a hatch or an airlock of some sort. Design is different from ours, but similar. I’m going to see if I can’t find a way in.”
“Wait a second; let me confer with Captain Fox.”
“Roger,” Eric replied as he brushed away more of the hoarfrost.
“Captain says you’re good, but be careful, we don’t know whose ship this might have been. Keep an eye on your suit’s displays, no telling what sent this ship to its grave.”
“Uh, sir, I found something else. There’s labeling by the hatch, and a set of ensigns to the right. I’m taking pictures, but my data link isn’t working.”
“Describe what you see, Spacer.”
“Hatch is inset to the hull, maybe a few centimeters. Yellow and black hatching along the frame. Writing in English says this is ‘Aft Airlock #2’. Series of numbers separated by dashes over that. One dash one hundred forty dash eleven dash letter ‘Q’.”
“Relaying to Fortune, continue.”
“Appears to be five ensigns on the hull next to the airlock. From the top, alternating white and red horizontal stripes. Upper left quadrant is dark blue, white dots. Quite a number of them. Second ensign, a bit harder to describe. Uh, red lines to the center from the sides and corners. The red is framed thinly in white; rest of the ensign is blue. Third ensign, left and right third of the ensign is red. Inside band is white with some sort of red emblem centered. Fourth ensign, blue. Upper left-hand quadrant is the second ensign. There’s a set of stars off to the rig
ht, and another single star below the inset second ensign. Uh, last ensign is identical, except it doesn’t have that lone star from the previous.”
“Roger that, standby.” Eric spent the next few seconds examining the hatch when Lieutenant Pascal broke in. “Did you copy that?”
“Uh, no, sir. Squelch didn’t even break.”
“Fortune says that numbering system sounds like a Protectorate ship, but the ensigns aren’t from any known colony of theirs. You can come back if you want and let us take over, Captain doesn’t want to put you in any further danger.”
The Right of the Line Page 43