Suicide Run

by Nathan Lowell

“What do you mean?” Natalya asked.

  “Well, they hire most of their ships and crews. According to Cecil, they don’t do a lot of repairs and upgrades.” Zoya shrugged and waved a hand. “Why do they have all this?”

  “Maybe it’s an artifact of the old days,” Natalya said, lining up on the docking bay. “They must have needed some significant construction when they set this up.”

  “Two centuries ago? It’s still here?”

  Natalya shrugged. “Maybe it’s where they’ve been building the buoys and just expanded out as needed. Not like they needed to shut it down.”

  The docking light turned green and the doors slid open, allowing the Peregrine to slip in and settle to the deck beside a battered cargo frame and a sleek, shiny, bullet-shaped craft. Natalya secured the engines and triggered the shore ties. A soft thunk under their feet signaled the successful docking.

  She took a moment to consider the lines of the ship next to them. “They can’t be serious.”

  Zoya stood up from the couch and stretched. “It’s pretty.”

  “Pretty small. The lines are wrong based on what Dorion showed us.”

  “Maybe they changed the design.”

  The lock-call buzzer sounded, interrupting Natalya’s train of thought. She led the way down the passageway to see who’d come to meet them. She peeked out to see a stocky man with spacer-cropped hair peering back at her from the other side of the port. He raised a hand and waved—wiggling his fingers at her. He grinned and stepped back.

  “This should be interesting,” Natalya said and keyed the lock.

  The hatch hadn’t completed its cycle before the man was back, practically sticking his head through the crack as the lock opened. “A Scout. Holy guacamole. A real Scout. I never thought I’d see one of these in my life,” he said, his eyes scanning everything in the cramped entry. “Do you think you could give me a tour before we get started?” He turned puppy-dog eyes on Natalya.

  “You are?” she asked.

  “Oh,” he said and stuck out his hand. “Downs. Anthony Downs. Tony. Project lead. You must be Regyri?”

  Natalya took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “I am. This is Zoya Usoko.” She nodded at Zoya.

  Downs extended his hand to her as well. “I’m very pleased to meet both of you. Thanks for coming out to look over our little project.”

  “We were in the neighborhood,” Zoya said.

  He paused for a moment as if trying to process what she’d said, but chuckled and grinned even wider—a feat Natalya couldn’t have believed possible. “Indeed,” he said. “Indeed.” He looked at Natalya. “A tour? I’ve been working off the old design documents to build the new bird, but seeing one in the flesh as it were ...” He shook his head. “I’m speechless.”

  Natalya shared a look with Zoya who hid a smile behind her hand.

  “Come aboard, Mr. Downs,” Natalya said.

  “Tony, please. We’ll be working together and I don’t do formal well.” He stepped up into the lock as Zoya backed into the passageway to make room. “It’s tighter than I imagined,” Downs said.

  “We don’t usually get a crowd,” Natalya said. “Or we didn’t before we started working for Dorion. What would you like to see first?”

  “Engineering?” he asked. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  Natalya took the three steps aft and opened the hatch. “Right this way, Tony. Nothing’s very far away on this ship.”

  “Except a large room,” Zoya said.

  Downs barked a short laugh and shot her a rueful smile. “I bet that’s true.” He glanced up and down the passageway. “Still roomier than it looks.”

  The tour lasted only a few ticks. Downs barely took the time to look about a compartment as if measuring it with his eyes before nodding and moving on to the next thing. In the cockpit he paused and eyed the couches and consoles. “Those aren’t originals,” he asked, pointing at the displays.

  “Upgrades. About as far as we can go without rerunning the data buses,” Natalya said.

  He nodded. “That’s one thing I noticed on the original plans. These babies weren’t overengineered in any aspect. Just enough to do the job. Nothing more.”

  Natalya nodded. “My father spent a lot of time getting her into shape. He and my mother replaced all the power runs fore and aft. They upgraded a lot of the data network, too, but that was some time ago.”

  Downs snorted. “And nothing changes faster than data requirements, eh?”

  “Something like that,” Natalya said. “There’s room in the cable races to double up the cables, but just barely. What I need to do is pull it all out and upgrade to the forty-eight-channel fiber for the backbone.”

  Downs looked at the deck as if he could see through the surface to the cabling below. He nodded. “We put that in the new bird. Ran parallel systems for the ship services and comms.”

  “Forty-eights on each?” Natalya asked.

  Downs nodded and shrugged. “Corp is bitching about the cost, but time is the expense they can’t get more of. The less time the pilots spend syncing up the data, the more time they have to get to the next system.”

  “And the sooner they get back with it,” Zoya said.

  He smiled at her. “No flies on you, either, eh? You’re not an engineer?”

  “Deck officer,” Zoya said.

  “Nothing wrong with that. You the pilot, then?”

  “It’s her ship,” Zoya said, nodding at Natalya. “I’m just along for the ride.”

  Downs looked back and forth between them for a few moments, then nodded as if making up his mind about something. “Well, you wanna see her?”

  “That’s what we came out here for,” Natalya said with a smile.

  He grinned and led the way aft and off the ship. Natalya and Zoya followed him out into the docking gallery and down the passageway toward the main station. “Not far. We routed you to the closest open bay,” Downs said. He stopped at the next docking port and led them into the open bay. “There she is.”

  The ship crouched on three skids, looking much like a flattened egg. It looked to be almost the same size as the Peregrine in overall length, but not quite as tall. The black skin pulled at Natalya’s eyes and made her blink. “Black body coating?” she asked, forcing herself to look away.

  “Not as such, no,” Downs said. “Just very good nonreflective skin. Almost invisible to radar across the spectrum and damned hard to see in space unless it’s backlit.”

  Zoya pressed her fingers against her eyes and rubbed. “That’s hard to look at.”

  Downs chuckled. “Takes some getting used to. You won’t notice it from inside.” He fished a small object from a pocket and tossed it to Natalya.

  She caught it and examined it. “Remote door locks?”

  “Yup. Open her up.”

  Natalya pressed the green button and a ramp clam-shelled open amidships, a soft yellow light glowing from inside. “Snazzy.” She handed the fob back to Downs.

  “We’re trying to make it something you’ll want to fly.”

  “Why’d the test pilot back out?” Zoya asked as they walked toward the ramp.

  Downs ran a hand over his face, scrubbing it over his mouth before answering. “Let’s take a look inside, shall we?” He walked up the ramp and stood waiting for them to follow.

  Natalya glanced at Zoya, who shrugged before following Downs into the ship.

  Natalya stopped at the top of the ramp and peered in. The entry lock was about the same size as the Peregrine’s with some updated controls and fresh paint. “I’m not sure there’s room for the three of us in there unless you open the inner hatch.”

  Downs shuffled back against the bulkhead and waved her in. “Plenty of room. Come on in.”

  Natalya saw something in his eyes and stepped into the airlock, crowding against Zoya. “Snug,” she said.

  Downs punched the lock control with a stubby finger and waited until the other doors closed with a whine and a chunk.

>   “They want me to say ‘I don’t know’ but the truth is, I do.” He scrubbed his mouth again. “He thought the ship was a flying coffin just waiting for a body.”

  “Is it?” Zoya asked.

  Downs sighed. “We don’t think so.” He paused. “I don’t think so.” He paused again. “I’m not a pilot, I’m a structural engineer.”

  “Why did he think that?” Zoya asked.

  “He didn’t say. He took a quick tour, said, ‘I’m not flying in that coffin,’ and caught the next shuttle off the station.”

  “Why are we huddled in here talking about this?” Natalya asked.

  Downs sighed again. “Black box recorders inside. Everything gets recorded. Safety feature.”

  “Bull,” Zoya said. “Black boxes only work if you can recover them. Something goes wrong with this ship and you’ll never find the pieces.”

  Downs nodded. “We all know that.”

  “But management has trust issues and wants to know everything that’s happening in their ships?” Natalya said.

  Downs’s head bobbed once.

  Natalya nodded. “Well, pop the top. Let’s look inside this can. Thanks for the heads up.”

  Downs nodded again and punched the lock control again. The inner door slid open with a ping-ping sound. “We still need to fix the sensors so both doors can operate at the same time when the external pressures all match,” he said. “That’s something we plan on working on this week.” He sidled out of the lock and into the passageway beyond.

  “This looks familiar,” Natalya said, following Zoya out of the lock and into the fore-and-aft passageway beyond.

  “It should. The basic deck plan came from the old Scouts. We’ve modified it to bring it up to date in terms of engineering, life support, and navigation,” Downs said, sounding more like a ship dealer than an engineer. He headed aft. “Power plant’s back here.” He opened the airtight hatch and swung it out, dogging it against the bulkhead. “Most of this should look familiar.”

  Zoya stepped aside so Natalya could go through first. “You’ll know more about what you’re looking at than I will.”

  Natalya grinned and stepped into the small space. She stopped and stared at the single drive hunkered down on the deck. “What’s this?”

  “That’s your Burleson drive,” Downs said, his mouth twitching as if not sure it should be smiling or not.

  “Yeah, I get that it’s a Burleson drive. Where’s the other one?”

  “What other one?” he asked.

  Natalya looked at him. “I thought you said you used the Scouts as a basic deck plan.”

  “Well, of course,” Downs said. “But we upgraded the power plant.”

  “And took away one drive?” Natalya asked, pointing to the massive machine. “You can’t be serious.”

  “That drive is rated at three times the old ones,” Downs said. “What’s the problem?”

  “This doesn’t match the specs we saw in Dorion’s office last month,” Zoya said.

  “Things change,” Downs said, frowning. “A month is a long time when you’re doing rapid prototyping.”

  “Have you ever designed a ship before, Mr. Downs?” Zoya asked.

  Downs frowned and stepped back. “Well, I didn’t design this one. We just took the Scout plans and upgraded them.”

  Zoya looked at Natalya and shrugged. “Looks like we’re out of a job,” she said.

  Natalya nodded. “Maybe.”

  “Wait,” Downs said. “You’re walking away?”

  Natalya stared at him. “You don’t seem to understand,” she said. She pointed at the drive again. “That’s a single point of failure. You’re a structural engineer. You know what that means.”

  “Well, of course,” Downs said. “But—”

  Natalya cut him off. “But nothing. That drive goes down and the ship never comes home. Period. The reason the Scouts survived is because they had two drives. One drive fails and the other drive takes them home again.”

  “That drive is rated at over twenty stanyers between failures,” Downs said. “We don’t intend to let it fall into disrepair so that a failure can happen.”

  “I’m not flying in this,” Natalya said. “It’s suicide.”

  “How can you say that?” Downs asked, looking back and forth between the two. “You’re barely out of the Academy. What do you know about ship construction?”

  Zoya’s smile carried nothing like humor. “I’ve been sailing since I was tall enough to hit the lock button. I’ve logged thousands of hours in space. More than half of them in command. I’m not an engineering officer, but even I know that’s not a viable design.”

  “And I am an engineering officer,” Natalya said. “I’ve been up to my elbows in the Peregrine’s guts for a decade and I’m telling you this design is going to cost you a ship, a pilot, and the data you need that pilot to bring back. It may not be the first run or the second or the hundredth but it will fail. How many of these are you going to build?”

  Downs settled back on his heels. “First flight is ten.”

  Zoya frowned. “That’s hardly cost effective.”

  He shook his head. “Shakedown prototypes,” he said.

  “How many?” Natalya asked, taking the three steps toward Downs. “A hundred?”

  “Company wants a thousand by this time next stanyer.”

  Natalya stared at Downs. “What’s the design criteria driver for this?”

  “What? The single unit?” Downs asked.

  “Yeah. Cost?”

  Downs flinched. “Well, cost is a factor. They’re expensive little birds.”

  “What’s the incremental cost of two drives?” Zoya asked.

  Downs looked at the deck and rubbed his palm over his lips again. “I’d have to look up the exact amount.”

  “Rough number,” Zoya said. “Ten percent?”

  Downs shot a glance at her. “These ships are expensive.”

  Zoya shook her head. “Not that expensive.”

  “How much would it cost to just build new Scouts?” Natalya asked.

  Downs looked at her, eyes open wide. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’re old. We’ve learned a lot about ship building in two centuries.”

  Natalya gave a pointed look at the single drive. “Obviously not enough.”

  Downs looked back and forth between the two for more than a few heartbeats. “We can’t change that,” he said, nodding at the drive.

  “Why not?”

  “We’d have to upgrade all the power systems and reroute all the communications and power to add another drive.”

  “How much will it add to the cost?” Zoya asked. “Roughly.”

  Downs looked at the deck. “Another five percent.”

  “Five percent?” Natalya asked, her voice echoing down the passageway. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re risking the viability of the ship for five percent?”

  Down’s shrugged without looking up. “Not my call.”

  “Whose call is it?” Zoya asked.

  “Management.”

  “That’s a department not a who,” she said.

  “Alison Pittman. She flies that yacht you’re docked next to,” Downs said.

  “Fancy,” Zoya said. “Why not use that design?”

  “Doesn’t have the power or the legs we wanted.” Downs bit his lips and shrugged.

  “And you can’t get the license for it,” Natalya said, guessing.

  “And we can’t get the license for it,” Downs said with a sigh and looked at the deck.

  Zoya snorted. “So management is too cheap to pony up for this project that’s supposed to reimagine the backbone of what might be the richest operation in the Western Annex.”

  “You don’t get rich by spending your credits,” Downs said without looking up.

  “You don’t get rich by investing stupidly,” Zoya said. The sharpness in her tone made Natalya shoot a glance in her direction. Zoya ju
st shook her head and leaned back against the bulkhead, crossing her arms. “My grandparents didn’t raise an idiot.”

  Downs sighed. “You’re above my pay grade here. What do you want to do now?”

  Zoya looked at Natalya and shrugged. “May as well see what else they’ve done.”

  Natalya nodded. “Let’s finish the tour, Mr. Downs.”

  “Tony, please,” he said, glancing up at each of them without lifting his head.

  “Tony,” Natalya said. “Where did you spend the money if it wasn’t back here?”

  Downs levered himself off the bulkhead and headed forward. “Cockpit is this way.”

  Zoya’s lips twisted together in a rueful smile as she motioned for Natalya to go ahead. “Something tells me it wasn’t on this ship,” she said, her voice barely louder than the blowers.

  Natalya snorted and Downs stopped at the lock. “You can leave now if you’d rather,” he said, looking back down the passageway.

  “One thing at a time, Tony. Show us your baby and we’ll keep an open mind,” Natalya said.

  Downs nodded and moved along the passage. He tapped on a door. “Head.”

  Natalya opened the door and stuck her head in. “Interesting,” she said.

  “Same size and about the same place as the port-side head on a Scout,” Downs said.

  “Yeah, but it’s laid out better,” Natalya said and stepped back to let Zoya see. “You made the whole compartment watertight?”

  Downs nodded. “The Scouts all use a modular head with separate sink, toilet, and shower. We just took out the booth and routed the plumbing so that the same valves feed the sink or shower, depending.”

  Zoya stepped in and looked around. She stretched out her arms to either side and smiled. “I couldn’t do this on the Peregrine.”

  “That’s pretty clever,” Natalya said, nodding her approval to Tony. “What else you got?”

  Downs shrugged. “Galley is next.” He moved down the passage and took a turn to port.

  Natalya followed him into the galley with Zoya right behind her.

  “We used the space taken up by the stateroom on a Scout to expand the galley into something more than a closet with a coffeemaker,” Downs said.

  Natalya surveyed the expanded galley space, taking a moment to run a hand across the top of the new table and spin each of the four chairs on their gimbals. She pointed across the passageway. “What’s over there?”