Rosemary snorted. “I’m sure they treat their prisoners well.”
“Well, that’s the thing. I doubt a civilian ship like that has facilities for transporting captured spies.” She sipped her drink. “I bet they’d make good use of the airlock, though.”
●
The wrench fell from Kizzy’s hand and clattered down behind the regulator. “Oops.” She climbed down the pipes, making her way to the space between the machinery and the wall.
“You want me to get it?” Jenks asked.
“Nah, there’s plenty of space.” Kizzy jumped down to the floor and began hunting for the errant tool. After a few steps forward, she paused. Something wasn’t right. She turned around and looked at the wall. There was a hatchway there, but it wasn’t properly melting into the surrounding wall. The seam around it flickered, as if someone was activating and deactivating the door faster than it could respond.
“Hey, Oxlen,” Kizzy called.
“Yes?”
“Is there a service panel back here?”
“I think so, why?”
“Looks like it’s malfunctioning.” Kizzy thought about the way the walls worked. “Could something be interfering with the structural lattice? A wonky circuit or something? Anything generating a signal?”
“I suppose. I don’t really know. Do you think the mine damaged the door?”
Kizzy looked back up at the regulator. The relay hub was a long way up. She shook her head. “I doubt it. Nothing else this far down was damaged.” Kizzy pressed her hand against the panel. She could feel the polymer beneath her fingers liquefy — though that wasn’t quite the right word, because the wall didn’t feel wet. Just…fluid. Kizzy gave a little laugh. “Cool.” The panel melted aside. The frame twitched and wiggled, but it held in place. She stuck her head into the wall and switched on the two little globulbs attached to her lenses.
The wall held power conduits, fuel tubes, waste lines — all the things you’d expect to see within a ship’s wall. She stepped inside. There was a narrow service pathway there, big enough for a lone tech. The pathway led upward, disappearing into the darker regions of the ship’s innards. She gazed around, looking for a sparking circuit or a leaking tube.
A small flash of yellow light caught her eye. Just a little ways above her head, easily within arm’s reach, a strange object clung to a bundle of fuel tubes. Flat, black, round. Like a metallic jellyfish, tendrils wrapped tight. It was obviously of different make than the surrounding tech, but Kizzy couldn’t quite place it. There was another flash. Then a pause. Then a flash again.
“What the hell — ” she muttered. She reached toward it. But before her fingers made contact, she froze. Another flash appeared in the corner of her eye. She craned her head up to follow the pathway. There was another one of the objects, positioned a few paces away from her. Then another. And another.
She turned off her globulbs. Stretched out in a steady line, disappearing into the dark, a row of tiny yellow lights blinked in rhythm.
With a rising horror, she realized what they were.
Kizzy threw herself back against the wall as if burned. Run, she thought. Run. But she didn’t run. She stared.
“Kizzy?” Jenks called. “You okay in there?”
She swallowed hard, trying to work some spit back into her mouth. “Mines,” she said.
“What was that?”
“Mines,” she said, louder. “The wall. The entire fucking wall. It’s full of mines.” And big ones, too. Earlier, she’d found a piece of casing from the one that had knocked out the atmospheric regulator. Intact, it had probably been as wide across as her pinky. These ones were about the size of an outstretched hand. Things that big weren’t made for knocking out an isolated system. Things that big were made to go boom.
Back in the room, Jenks and Oxlen were making a lot of noise, talking over each other, calling their respective captains. But to Kizzy, they seemed distant. Her heart was in her ears. Her muscles started to shake. Her body begged to get away. But a quiet thought cut through the panic, holding her steady. How long before they go off? She thought about this. If they were ready to go off in seconds, running away wouldn’t make any damn difference, not for her, not for the cargo ship, nor for the Wayfarer. But if there was more time, even just a minute or two, maybe…could she?
She looked at the evil metal jellyfish nearest to her. Explosive or not, it was still a machine. She understood machines. Machines followed rules.
“Oxlen,” she called. “Do either of those soldiers happen to be weapons techs?”
“What? No, no, they’re just guards, we don’t have anyone who — ”
Kizzy ignored the rest of whatever Oxlen was saying. She unhooked a pair of clippers from her belt, flicked her globulbs back on, and climbed up close.
“Kizzy,” Jenks said. “Kizzy, you need to get out of there.”
“Quiet,” she said. “Give me a minute.”
“We may not have a minute, Kizzy, get out of there.”
“If we don’t have a minute, it won’t make any fucking difference where I am.”
“Kizzy — ” Oxlen started.
Kizzy flipped her scanner lenses into place. “Both of you. Shut up. I can do this. Just — just shut up.”
Somewhere very far away, she could hear more yelling, and a clanking sound — probably Jenks climbing over the pipes to come get her. She ignored it and peered through the lens into the heart of the mine. Its interior was solid explosive material — kedrium, given the density — which was seriously great news. For starters, that meant the triggering mechanisms were only on the outside of the mine, so there were no surprises inside that she needed to worry about. Better still, she knew kedrium. Back in her teens, she’d been grounded for her whole summer break after she and her friends had blown up an old junker skiff with a block of the stuff. Cheap explosive, used for clearing rock. You could get it at any market stop. If the mine used kedrium, that meant there had to be two triggers — one to start a heating device, and one to spark the kedrium once it was hot enough to be reactive. She took off her gloves and felt around the edges of the mine. Still cold. That was a good sign. She ran a finger over the seams. There. She shifted around so that she was hunched over within the fuel tubes. From that vantage point, she could see little trigger knobs sticking out from the backside, surrounded by dried beads of sealant. This wasn’t some fancy-pants military-grade tech. This was hackjob work.
She placed the clippers between her teeth and pulled a heat awl from her belt. The sealant fizzled and thinned under the awl’s searing tip. She switched back to the magnification lens. Okay. That looks like the primary trigger, so if I just pop it loose — The yellow light blinked steadily, unchanged from before. There’s the heater. And there — She held her breath and pulled the knob away from the frame. A thin cable trailed after it. She let the awl fall to the floor and took the clippers from her mouth. Her hand began to shake. The clippers rattled. She cut the cable.
The light switched off.
“Kizzy — ”
She pried the blasting cap free of its gutted frame. It fell into her hand. Heavy. Cold. Harmless. A shudder of air burst from her lips. Her vision swam. She slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor, pressing her free palm against her forehead.
“Holy fuck,” Jenks said, falling against the door frame. “You did it.”
Kizzy took a deep breath. Her muscles shook all the harder. She laughed.
●
One of the problems with talkboxes was that operating them required no small degree of mental concentration. If the wearer was distracted or impaired, the computerized words would come out jumbled. Such was the case with Pei, who was more upset than Ashby had ever seen. She stood fuming over the pieces of the disarmed mine that Kizzy had placed on the dinner table. Her cheeks were purple with anger, dark as a bruise.
“I can’t — bastards on — what we might — brought you into — sorry for — ”
“Pei,” A
shby said. He raised a halting hand, minding his tone with care. They were surrounded by her crew and his. He was alarmed, she was furious, and their people were afraid. It was just the sort of situation that might make one of them slip. “Try to slow down.”
She took a shuddering breath. The colors in her cheeks flared, but held steady. “Saery. I can’t believe he was a coincidence.”
“What do you mean?” said one of her crew. Sula, a short female.
“Think about it. If the Aeluons give you sand between your teeth, and you want to cause some damage, why go to the trouble of taking out one cargo ship when you could take out a docking hub? Or a repair station?”
Oxlen’s cheeks darkened. There were a lot of purple faces at the table. “They knocked out a vital system so that we’d have to stop for repairs. They figured we’d pull into port somewhere. That’s why the mines haven’t gone off yet. They timed them to wait a few tendays, because that’s how long it would take us to get to a dock. They weren’t planning for us to get help along the way.”
Sula’s eyes narrowed. “And they made sure we didn’t have a tech to fix it. He wasn’t mugged. They must’ve watched him.”
Pei took a few steps toward the window, fists balled against her sides. Ashby stuck his hands in his pockets and pressed his feet to the floor. Sissix caught his eye. Almost imperceptibly, she flashed him the Aandrisk gesture for sympathy.
“We can get angry later,” Pei said, turning back. Her cheeks had dulled to a dusky blue. “Right now, we have a bigger problem. Ashby, I can’t believe I got you mixed up in this. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not,” Ashby said. “You might not have known anything was wrong if it wasn’t for Kizzy.”
“See, this is why fixbots are stupid,” Kizzy said. “There are so many things they — ”
Jenks lay a hand across her arm. “Not now, Kiz.”
Tak picked up one of the pieces of the mine. “It must’ve been one of the dock workers. Slipped away while the others were unloading cargo. This is our fault. We should’ve been more vigilant.”
“Nobody expected this,” Pei said. “I’ve been running cargo for ten standards, and whenever somebody wants a piece of what I’ve got, they come at me directly. I’ve never dealt with anything so underhanded.”
Tak’s second eyelids darted in, then back again. “I don’t understand why they’d use such crude tech after going to all the trouble of getting aboard our ship.”
“If you were at a public docking port, that’s the only way they could do it,” Jenks said. “How are they supposed to get fully assembled explosives through security? It’s way easier to bring in the pieces individually and put them together in a closet somewhere. Kedrium has legitimate uses on its own. It’d be easy to sneak through. And the rest of this stuff, it’s just odds and ends.”
“Be happy they made them that way,” Kizzy said. “I wouldn’t have been able to figure ‘em out otherwise. They should’ve hired better techs.” She glanced up at the Aeluon soldiers. “Or, I mean, um, hrm.” She grabbed a cookie off a nearby plate and shoved it into her mouth.
Pei tapped her fingers on the table. “You’re sure they’re nowhere else on the ship?”
“Positive,” Oxlen said. “I ran a full scan, after I knew what to look for.”
Pei’s cheeks flooded with colors. Ashby knew that look — hesitancy. “Kizzy. I wish I didn’t have to ask this, but — ”
“Yeah, I can do it,” Kizzy said. She looked Ashby right in the eye before he’d even said anything. “I can. I poked at the timer, and they’re set to go off in three days. That’s way more than I need.”
“I don’t doubt that you can do it,” Ashby said. “But just because you took care of one doesn’t mean that the others might not go off.”
“If we do nothing, they’re all going to go off.”
Corbin spoke up from his vantage point by the kitchen counter. “Would that be such a bad thing?” he asked. “This…situation puts all of us at risk. No offense, Captain Tem, but this is not our problem.” Sissix opened her mouth, but Corbin continued. “I’m sure we could drop all of you somewhere where you could find transport back to wherever you’re going. Why not call the ship a loss and let us give you passage? We might even have room for some of your cargo, so long as you prioritize.”
Pei looked to the two soldiers. Their faces erupted with color, shifting fast as a kaleidoscope.
A minute passed. “Um, so…” Kizzy said.
Jenks frowned. “They’re talking, Kizzy.”
“Oh.” She covered her mouth with her hands. “Right.”
Pei exhaled. “Sorry. The trouble is that our cargo is…important. The soldiers feel that if there is a chance of saving all of it, we have to take it.” She met Ashby’s eyes. “And I feel terrible for saying it, but I’m inclined to agree. Not because it’s my ship or because I want to get paid. But what we’re carrying…it could really help. I’m sorry, I…” She glanced at the soldiers. “I can’t explain further than that.”
Ashby looked to Kizzy. “I’m not going to make you do this.”
Kizzy nodded with more composure than Ashby had ever seen in her. “I already said. I can do this.” She picked up the blasting cap. “I was freaking out while I took this one apart. I’m one-hundred-percent chill now. If I could disarm them while I was losing my shit, I can totally do it now.” She smiled at Rosemary, who was biting her lip. “I got this.”
“I’m going with you,” Jenks said. “It’ll go faster with two.”
“No,” Kizzy said. She grew quieter. “Something could still go wrong.”
“All the more reason you need some help.”
“All the more reason you should stay.” She fidgeted with the blasting cap. “If something goes wrong, the Wayfarer still needs a tech.”
Jenks looked hard at her. “Don’t you talk like that.” Everyone at the table could hear him, but there was a soft urgency in his tone that was meant for her ears alone.
“We should move our ships as far apart as possible,” Corbin said. “If something does go awry, we need to make sure our ship is protected.”
Pei nodded. “That’s a wise precaution. My people will stay here while Kizzy deals with the mines. I’ll be going with her.”
“Why?” Ashby said, the word out of his mouth before he’d had time to think. But he wasn’t alone in the sentiment. The other Aeluons’ cheeks flashed with urgency.
“I’ll go,” Tak said. “I’m here to defend this cargo.”
“It’s my ship,” Pei said.
“You’re a civilian.”
“It’s my ship.” Pei leaned forward, colors flaring. Whatever she said, it was enough to make Tak back down. She turned to Kizzy. “I won’t ask someone from another crew to risk something that I’m not prepared to risk myself.” Pei looked to Ashby. “Don’t worry. We see anything we can’t handle, we’ll get out of there fast. I’ll take care of her.”
Ashby sighed and put on the bravest smile he could. “I know you will,” he said. But who will take care of you?
●
Kizzy stood in front of the open service panel, tools in hand, looking at nothing. Little yellow lights flashed in the dark. They were waiting for her. She didn’t move.
Pei placed a hand on her shoulder. “Finding some courage?”
Kizzy shook her head. “No. I’m good.”
Pei blinked her weird eyelids sideways. “This isn’t that Human thing where you pretend not to be scared, is it?”
“No. Really, I’m good.” She climbed into the wall. Pei followed, hanging back by the access panel. Kizzy made her way to the closest mine. It seemed smaller than the first. She turned on her globulbs and got to work, moving with steady hands and quiet breaths. “Is that a Human thing? Isn’t that something everybody does?”
“Oh, no. It’s a Human thing. See?” She pointed at the colored patches on her finely scaled cheeks.
Kizzy let go of the mine and looked up. “I…don’t know what that
means.” She made an apologetic face. “Sorry, I don’t really know any Aeluons.”
“Are they red? Mostly? Maybe a bit of yellow mixed in?”
“Yeah. They’re all, like, swirly.”
“Yep. I’m scared.” She cocked her head. “And I’m curious as to why you’re not.”
Kizzy pursed her lips and looked back down at the armed explosive. “I don’t know. I was super scared when I first found them, but now, it’s not so bad. Nervous, maybe, but no more than, like, working on the outer hull or putting out a circuit fire. There’s a problem, and it’s serious, but I’m fine. I don’t really get why, but there you go.”
“You’ve examined the situation and are confident you can fix it. That makes sense.”
“I guess.” They both fell quiet as Kizzy worked her way around the mine, melting the sealant, snipping the cables. As the blasting cap fell into Kizzy’s hand, Pei audibly exhaled. It was strange, hearing a sound come from her mouth, instead of the talkbox.
“Stars,” Pei said. “I feel so useless, not being able to help, but all the same, I don’t know if I could do that.”
“Really?” Kizzy said, moving up the walkway. “You deal with this kind of shit all the time. Like, guns pointed at your face and bad guys on your ship and all sorts of stuff.”
“Guns and…bad guys, yes. But this” — she nodded toward the mines — “is not the shit I deal with all the time. This is not something I can fix. And that’s what scares me. There are few things as unsettling as a lack of control in an unfamiliar situation.”
Kizzy raised her tools, and silence returned. She crouched to examine the sealant. She frowned, and flipped down one of her magnification lenses. “Ah, shit.”
She could practically hear Pei tense up. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry, nothing major.” She squinted, then rolled her eyes. “These hackjob goofballs. They let sealant get into the cable channel.”
“Is that bad?”
“No, it’s just stupid. I’m going to have to melt it on super low heat, so that the kedrium doesn’t get too hot.”
The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet Page 25