Zoya looked at Natalya.
Natalya nodded. “I’m good.”
“If she’s good, I’m good,” Zoya said.
“Then we’re go for tomorrow,” Panko said. “When do you want to start pre-flight?”
“We can start at 0700,” Natalya said. “Time enough to get some breakfast at Rudy’s. We’ll be back in time for lunch.”
MORNING FOUND NATALYA prowling around the Peregrine much earlier than she’d intended. Having given up on sleep, she’d crawled out of her bunk at 0430 and made coffee. She settled into the pilot’s couch in the cockpit and stared mindlessly out at the docking bay beyond the armorglass. Pittman’s yacht gleamed in the bay’s stark lighting, a bright toy ship surrounded by drab working vessels. A lone pilot wandered across the bay and clambered into a dinged-up shuttle sitting on the far side of the bay. Warning lights strobed red moments before the small ship rose off its pad, lifting out of the bay and into the departure lock above. Its maneuvering thrusters made a quiet roar, which quickly cut off as the lock closed behind it.
“I thought I smelled coffee,” Zoya said, sticking her head into the cockpit. “Did you leave any for me?”
Natalya held up her mug. “Only the first cup from the pot. Should be plenty.”
Zoya rummaged about in the tiny galley for a few moments before settling into the navigator’s couch beside Natalya. “You couldn’t sleep either?”
Natalya shook her head. “Not sure why. Nerved up.”
“Scared?”
“No. I don’t think so. Mostly excited to be the first pilot to fly the new ship.”
“Um,” Zoya said, drawing the syllable out and looking sideways at Natalya.
Natalya returned the side-eyed stare. “First crew. You’ll be the first pilot,” she said. “You know what I mean. We’ll be the first to fly the new couriers.”
Zoya sipped her coffee before replying. “Well, technically, the first courier prototype.”
Natalya looked at her and found Zoya staring straight ahead, her coffee mug propped in front of her face with both hands, elbows on the couch’s arms. “I suppose that’s true. That ship is never going to be a courier, is it.”
“No, it’s not. I think you’re right about the test, for whatever that’s worth,” Zoya said. There are more systems that won’t change than will. If we find something wrong, I’m sure Ernst can fix it in the next generation.”
“I can’t believe he’s come so far so fast.”
Zoya smiled. “Say what you will about Alison. Once she buys in, she’s all the way in.”
“Think they’ll hook up?”
“Naw. Ernst would, probably, but Alison’s too hung up on appearances.” Zoya took another sip. “Probably wise given their relative positions on the org chart.”
Natalya sighed. “True.” She sipped her coffee for a few ticks, savoring the quiet, enjoying the easy companionship. “You ever get lonely?”
Zoya turned her head to stare at Natalya. “Lonely? We’re joined at the hip.”
A short laugh escaped Natalya’s lips. “You know. A relationship? With somebody?”
“You propositioning?” Zoya’s brows drew together. “You’re more sister than lover material.”
Zoya’s serious expression made Natalya giggle. “Not with me. Sister. With somebody special?”
Zoya grinned and looked back out over the docking bay. She sipped again. “Sometimes,” she said. “We’ve been a bit isolated of late. Scrambling for work. So much happening. Haven’t really had time to think about it much.” She glanced at Natalya. “You?”
Natalya shrugged a shoulder. “Just seeing Panko and Pittman maneuvering.”
“They’re cute together,” Zoya said. “I still think it could happen.”
“How soon before Rudy’s opens?”
Zoya lifted her elbow out of the way to look at the console in front of her. “Another stan, maybe. You thinking of getting an early bite?”
“I could eat.”
Zoya settled back again. “What you really want to do is go run the pre-flight checklist.”
Natalya grinned over at her. “You know me too well.”
“We’re not going to jump that ship,” Zoya frowned across the narrow space. “Right?”
Natalya chuckled. “Not in this lifetime. We could probably do a short jump. One BU. Maybe two. With our luck? The drive will toast on the very first try and we’ll be stuck there.”
“It’s not like it would be a meaningful test,” Zoya said. “Ernst’s going to replace that whole drive chain.”
Natalya nodded. “Shall we go over?”
Zoya grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.” She tossed her mug back and drained the last of the coffee. “Let’s take our softsuits and see how far we can get before breakfast.”
“I like the way you think. We can stash them aboard, run the first half of the checklist, then go eat.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Zoya said. “Suit up after breakfast and run the rest of the pre-flight while we wait for Ernst and his magic bus.”
Natalya chuckled. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter 35
Pulaski Yards
2366, May 29
NATALYA FELT A LOT calmer once she started pulling her gear together. “You got the first aid kit?”
Zoya held up the oblong box. “Suit sealer and all the basics. Should I take the forensics kit?”
“The one Blanchard gave you after Siren?”
“Yeah. Not sure what we’d use it for but with the number of fingers that have been in that pie, it might be useful,” Zoya said.
“Throw it in a carry-all. We can tie it all down in engineering.”
She pulled her softsuit off its rack and spread it on her bunk, rolling it up into a bulky package she could tuck under her arm. It wouldn’t give her much protection from sharp edges but could make a difference if the ship lost pressure. She flexed her fingers, thinking about trying to use the console with the gloves on. It was doable, but she wouldn’t win any speed challenges with it. She went aft to engineering and grabbed her small tool kit and a deck puller from the storage locker.
“You think you’ll need that?” Zoya asked, eyeing the heavy clamp.
“I hope not,” Natalya said. “But if we get out there and need it, we’re really going to need it.”
“Good point.” Zoya looked around at all the gear they’d amassed. “Can we carry all this?”
Natalya grimaced. “We can but it would take three trips, probably.”
“We should have done this yesterday.”
“We should have had the yard do this last month,” Natalya said. “With their own supplies.”
“Would you trust it?” Zoya asked.
Natalya chuckled. “Probably not.” She looked around at all the gear. “We could wear the suits over. The rest of it isn’t that much.”
Zoya pursed her lips and did another quick visual scan. “You’re right.”
Within a couple of ticks they’d pulled the suits on, strapped in the extra air canisters, and grabbed their loose gear. The walk to Bay Two had Natalya sweating from the exertion of moving in a suit designed for zero-gee and carrying almost half her body weight in tools.
“We shoulda gotten a grav-pallet,” Zoya said, puffing along beside her.
“We’re almost there.”
They staggered into the bay before Natalya realized her mistake.
“The fob is in my pocket.”
Zoya looked at her, bemusement coloring her expression. “Your shipsuit pocket?”
Natalya nodded.
They both started giggling and dropped their gear beside the ship.
“We got it this far,” Zoya said and started stripping out of her softsuit.
Natalya wasn’t far behind, stepping clear of her own softsuit before patting her pockets to find the fob.
It only took a few more ticks to get their gear stowed in the lockers in the tiny engineering space, locking the tool kit and de
ck puller into the tool bay and stowing the rest of their kit in a cupboard in the galley.
“Where shall we start?” Zoya asked settling on the couch.
“Start at the beginning,” Natalya said. “We can bring everything up until we get to the engines.”
“We can put them on ready standby, can’t we?”
Natalya shrugged. “We could but I’d feel better if they were cold if we’re not going to be here to watch them.” She looked at Zoya. “We are still going to Rudy’s for breakfast, aren’t we?”
“I hope so,” Zoya said. “I’ve worked up an appetite.”
“They open in a stan. Let’s see how far we get.”
Natalya pulled the pre-flight checklist up on her tablet and started reading down through the long and detailed protocol for bringing up all the systems in the tiny ship. She plopped down in the jumpseat right behind Zoya’s couch—reading the instruction while Zoya worked the console, bringing up displays, checking status, adjusting settings, and lighting up all the on-board systems together for the first time.
“Ships status markers green for power, gravity, and atmosphere,” Natalya said, after what seemed like a week-long checklist.
“Three greens. Power, gravity, and atmo,” Zoya said.
Natalya nodded. “That’s it for now. Next steps bring up the kickers and Rudy’s should be open.”
“Did we really make that list?”
“Yeah. We’ve got another half a stan or so to go after we eat.”
“Should we make a pot of coffee for when we get back?” Zoya asked.
“Let’s hold off for now,” Natalya said. Her stomach rumbled loud enough that Zoya looked at her. “I’m hungry.” Natalya shrugged and stood, stashing her tablet and rolling her shoulders to stretch her back. “I think the pre-flight will take longer than the actual first flight.”
“What are we scheduled for?” Zoya asked. “Two stans?”
“Yeah and we’re already at almost that on the checklist.”
Natalya keyed the lock closed behind them as they left the ship. “What are we missing?”
Zoya fell into step as they strolled up the gallery toward Rudy’s. “There’s so much that could go wrong. We’ve checked everything we could think of but what haven’t we thought of?”
Natalya sighed. “Short of tearing the ship down and reassembling it?”
“I thought of that,” Zoya said. “The problem is that it could be anywhere.”
“Ernst would probably just as soon we scrapped this ship like he did the others,” Natalya said.
“He may have a point.”
“Yeah. That’s the part that bothers me.”
“That he’s right?” Zoya asked, looking at Natalya with wide eyes.
“No,” Natalya said. “Somebody’s trying to get this project killed—or at least removed from Pittman’s management.”
Zoya bit her lip and nodded. “You’re wondering what they’ll do now that Downs is out and Panko is in?”
“Yeah.” Natalya pulled the door open and waved Zoya in ahead of her. “That’s why I want to take this ship out.”
Natalya stepped into the busy morning rush and let the door close behind her. Sandra waved from behind the counter and pointed at a table near the kitchen doors. Natalya waved back and started to thread her way through the throng.
“You want to make it a target?” Zoya asked.
“It might flush out some of the unknown actors.”
“Why would they waste time on this ship now that the whole wing has been scrubbed?”
“You ever hear the expression ‘pecked to death by ducks’?” Natalya asked.
They settled into their seats and Sandra plunked the coffee down. “The usual?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” Natalya said.
Zoya nodded, coffee already halfway to her mouth.
Sandra sped off, dispensing coffee, grabbing dirty dishes, and joking with the regulars.
“Sounds unpleasant,” Zoya said.
“I think they’ll chip away at the current management team with dozens of small, awkward failures. Just like they have so far by throwing away the valid design that everybody outside of the yard is expecting and replacing it with this monstrosity. Now that we’ve scotched that, they’ll need to do something else. Nothing big enough to attract attention but a small failing.”
“You ever been pecked by a duck?” Zoya asked.
“No. Have you?”
“Yeah. Pop-pop took us on holiday to Dunsany Roads when I was little. He wanted to show us a planet up close.”
Natalya took a sip of her coffee. “Oh, Margary. Not much by way of planets there.”
“Yeah. Bunch of us. Aunts, uncles, cousins. Made quite a parade of it.”
“Fun?”
“It was pretty shocking for kids raised in cans. That’s a lot of open sky and walking outside without a suit.” Zoya grinned, her gaze focused on the past. “One of the cousins wouldn’t leave the shuttle for the longest time. Once he got coaxed out, he didn’t want to go back.”
Natalya chuckled. “Figures, right?”
Zoya nodded. “They have this big park in the middle of Dunsany City. Lots of grass, trees. A big pond. I thought it was a lake. It looked huge.”
Sandra slipped dishes onto the table and refilled coffee. “Good?” she asked.
“Thanks,” Zoya said.
“Good,” Natalya said.
She saluted them with the coffee carafe and continued on her way.
“Anyway. Pop-pop doled out food. Little pellet things for us to feed the ducks at this pond. It was apparently the thing to do.”
“Uh, oh.”
“Yeah. I didn’t throw the food far enough away and the next thing I know, I’ve got these big-ass birds all around me. I held out one of the kibbles instead of throwing it and three ducks came at me. I dropped everything and ran. Damn ducks chased me halfway across the park.”
“How old were you?”
“Seven.” Zoya dug into her breakfast. “Anyway, I tripped and the ducks ran right up over me and started rooting around in my hair, my clothes. I kept trying to swat them away. One of them started pecking at my hands and arms before Pop-pop caught up with me and shooed them away.”
“That must have been terrifying,” Natalya said.
“It was.” Zoya took a swig of coffee. “I’ve never heard that saying, but I can tell you from firsthand experience. Being pecked by ducks hurts like hell.”
Natalya nodded. “I figured it must.”
“Then why do you want to get pecked?” Zoya asked.
“I’m willing to be the peckee if we can catch some of those little peckers who are screwing with this project.” Natalya gave breakfast her full attention as Zoya tried to stifle a giggle.
Chapter 36
Pulaski Yards
2366, May 29
SANDRA CAME BY TO CLEAR away the dirty dishes and offered the tab. “You two really taking that ship out today?”
Natalya nodded. “That’s the plan. Why?”
Sandra loaded up her tray. “Just everybody’s talking about it. Half of them think it’s a waste of time what with the new ships coming off the ways next month.”
“What do the other half think?” Zoya asked.
“It’s going to blow up and you’re both going to die in a fire.” Sandra smirked. “I may just be a glorified waitress, but I don’t think there’s that much oxygen where you’re going.”
“The explosion would probably kill us before the fire could,” Zoya said.
Natalya nodded. “Yeah. Any kind of explosive would probably ruin our day long before a little fire.”
Sandra looked back and forth between them, her mouth slightly open and her brow furrowed. “You’re not joking,” she said after a few moments.
“We hope we are,” Natalya said. “But there’s a chance that things could go horribly wrong out there.”
“Not like we’re going very far on this first run,” Zoya said. “But
there’s always the chance.”
Sandra rested the loaded tray on the edge of the table and stared at them. “You’re crazy. Both of you.”
Natalya shrugged. “Probably, but I plan on being back in time for dinner.”
“Any scuttlebutt on Downs?” Zoya asked.
“Tony?” Sandra asked. “I wouldn’t hear it anyway. His crews stopped coming in here a few weeks ago. Right after he got kicked off the station.”
“Who’s running his gang now?” Natalya asked.
“My ex-dishwasher, I thought,” Sandra said with a little shake of her head. “At least I assume that’s what Ernst’s doing. If not directly, then he’s appointed a yard boss for the project. That’s what Tony’s official title was as far as I know.”
“Yeah,” Natalya said. “He had the new prototype all laid out on his computer before we ever met him.”
“He’s had a lot of time to think about it,” Sandra said. “He wasn’t known to hang out on-station and get into trouble.”
“It’ll still be a full-time job refining the design to take advantage of as much of the current design as he can,” Natalya said. “Which is why we need to take this poor doomed prototype out for a spin around the system. At least we can verify what works and what doesn’t.”
Sandra hefted the tray and started toward the kitchen. “You two be careful out there. I’ll expect to see you for dinner. The special’s gonna be fried chicken.”
“Thanks,” Natalya said to Sandra’s retreating back.
They slipped out of the booth and threaded their way through the boisterous breakfast crowd. The hubbub of clinking cutlery and conversations shouted across small tables diminished as soon as the door closed behind them.
“Think it’ll blow up?” Zoya asked, casting a sideways glance at Natalya.
“Nope. At least not right away, and it won’t be something that screams of sabotage. If it’s sabotaged, whoever has done it really can’t afford to do something too blatant.”
Chapter 37
Pulaski Yards
2366, May 29
Suicide Run (Smuggler's Tales From the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper Book 2) Page 24