Transmuted (Dark Landing Series Book 1)

by Robin Praytor

  Curtis was only partially listening to Barlow now. He’d understood the plan about three sentences in. He concentrated on the rattles and dull humming noises coming from above the corridor and thinking of all the things that could go wrong. He figured whatever they used to weld ships together was too strong to drill through. After all, if the welds were vulnerable to a common drill, the station would always teeter on ripping apart at any time, wouldn’t it?

  “Chief Walker?”

  “Yes, Barlow, I can hear them working now. What’s happening?”

  “They’re almost through. Can you see the occupants?”

  “No. The space is too short.” He peered through the hatch port, standing on his tip-toes and craning his head down, but he still couldn’t see the deck. He rapped on the port to get Toby’s attention—if it was Toby. No response. As he watched, the control pad light changed from flashing green to solid red.

  “You guys need to hurry. There’s no more oxygen.”

  “Just another minute. It’s slow going,” Barlow responded.

  “A minute’s a long time if you’re not breathing.” Curtis banged on the hatch port.

  The station shook again, this time more violently, throwing Curtis off balance. He fell on his back, hitting his head hard on the deck. The siren whoops restarted. After dragging himself up, he looked through the aligned ports for new debris. That hit had been close. He pressed his face against the window, straining to spot flotsam that might identify the extent of the damage. A hand popped up and slapped the glass directly in front of him. Startled, Curtis jumped backward and tripped over his own feet. He fell again, this time on his ass. The hand continued slapping the glass. From the deck, Curtis glanced to the control panel. The light blinked green once more. The chamber was getting oxygen, but it must still be leaking through the damaged seal. The hand waved energetically, so the kid was breathing.

  “Barlow, are you there?” His connection to Barlow had broken. Back on his feet, he slapped his side of the port and yelled.

  “Is that you, Toby?” The hand waved furiously as the boy jumped up and down. An arm and the crown of his head were intermittently visible.

  “If you can hear me,” Curtis yelled, “make a fist.”

  The hand balled into a fist.

  “Great! That’s really great. Okay, if the answer’s yes, open your hand wide. If it’s no, make a fist. Okay?”

  The hand opened yes and Toby spoke, his voice faint, but clear, “If I can hear you, can’t you hear me?”

  Curtis laughed out loud. “Yeah, yeah, I can hear you. I’m pretty dumb, aren’t I? Is Letty there with you?”

  “Yes, she’s here. Her head’s bleeding, but only a little. And she’s been moving a little too, and mumbling.”

  “Those are good signs, Toby. How are you? Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m okay. Can you get us out of here?”

  “We’re trying, kid. Just hang a minute while I get environmental back and see where we are.”

  When Curtis reconnected with Barlow, he provided Curtis the location of the leak. It was a pinprick-sized hole at the top of the exterior hatch, well above Toby’s reach.

  “The leak was larger a few minutes ago,” Barlow said. “The hatch managed to self-seal, leaving just the smaller hole. Still enough to keep the interior hatch in lockout status.”

  “So, what do we do?” Curtis asked. “Miss Taleen is only semi-conscious, and the kid is too short to see through the port, let alone reach the top of the hatch.”

  “Hold a sec,” Barlow said.

  Curtis called to Toby, “You hanging in there, kid?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Letty said something a minute ago, but I couldn’t understand her.”

  “Try shaking her a little, but not too hard.”

  “Okay.”

  Barlow came back on the connection. “We have a possible fix. It’s not very scientific, though.”

  “What is it?”

  “Have the boy take off his shirt and try throwing it up to the top of the hatch. Even with a small leak, the vacuum pull might be strong enough to suck the fabric against it and seal it. He’d have to hit it dead-on though.”

  “Okay, I’ll have him try.” Curtis stepped up to the hatch port. “Toby, how’s Letty?”

  “She’s sorta okay. I shook her a little and her eyes opened, but now she’s sleeping again. Can’t you get us outta here?”

  “We’re going to try something right now. There’s a tiny leak just above the opposite hatch. I know you can’t reach it, but . . . ” He explained what they needed Toby to do. “You understand?”

  “Yeah; I’ll try.”

  Curtis watched and cheered Toby on as his shirt repeatedly flew to the top of the hatch without catching. It finally caught, but he couldn’t tell if it was snagged on the hatch’s surface or being held by the vacuum. The green light continued to blink. After a few seconds, the shirt fell.

  “My arm’s getting really tired. This is kind a lame.” Toby’s frustration matched Curtis’s.

  “Keep trying, kid. It looked like you had it there for a minute.” Two environmental staff had come up behind him, adding their words of encouragement.

  The shirt flew upward twice more. The second time it caught and stayed. Curtis watched the blinking green light. It blinked, then held solid for two seconds before blinking again . . . held for several seconds, then blinked . . . intermittently holding and blinking. Curtis palmed the control pad, and entered the override code over and over as fast as he could. On his fourth attempt the green light held long enough for the code to be accepted, and the hatch slid back.

  Curtis reached into the airlock, grabbed Toby by the arm, and flung him into the corridor behind him. He clasped Letty by one ankle as another man crowded next to him and took hold of the other one. They fell backward, yanking Letty out as they went. When she’d cleared the hatch, Curtis commanded the hatch to close.

  He sat up and knelt next to her, cupping the back of her head in his hand. Her hair was wet and sticky, but the bleeding appeared to have stopped.

  “Letty, Letty, can you hear me?”

  “T-toby?” She moaned, opening her eyes and quickly closing them again.

  “Toby’s right here. He’s fine. We’re taking you to med-lab. You’ll be okay too.”

  One of the men had disappeared for a minute, returning with a stretcher which he laid next to Letty. Curtis helped them lift her off the deck and onto the stretcher.

  “Wait a sec,” Curtis said to the men. “Are you sure you’re okay, Toby?” He held the boy by the shoulders and turned him around slowly looking for injuries.

  “I’m fine, sir. I’m not hurt at all.”

  “That’s good. Just to be safe, go along with Letty to med-lab and Doc will check you out.”

  “No,” Toby said. His body posture and facial expression froze in defiance.

  Curtis had seen his rebellious look before. The two men couldn’t drop Letty to chase after Toby if he ran, and arguing with him would be a waste of time. He nodded to the men to go.

  “Come with me then, but stay close. If you get blown up I’m not stopping to pick up your pieces.”

  Toby stepped next to Curtis and took his hand.

  Chapter 29: Escape Pod

  E2 broke away while E3 kept the Reagan occupied. In quick succession, the station took three hits to dockside. A single energy pulse wouldn’t breach a bulkhead, but repeated salvos would do the trick eventually, and the Diak ships were fast. Too fast for the Bin ships, though both appeared of a similar class, and three times as fast as the heavier-class ETOC ship. Even with its superior tracking capability, the Reagan’s lasers racked up only near misses. Not one burst had hit its mark. E2 returned to take on the Reagan while E3 positioned itself for a new salvo dockside.

  The damaged Bin ship had stopped firing altogether, conserving power for life support. Its partner stayed by its side, shields weakened but holding. Its lasers connected with E1. Colors rippled across the s
urface of the Diak ship. How long can this last? The good guys weren’t losing, but they sure weren’t winning.

  Jonesy monitored station damage reports at another terminal. He caught Drew’s glance and wiggled his hand back and forth. They were holding their own for the time being. Still, if the attack continued, the station in its entirety would be at risk. This proved what he’d always suspected. The outer cells—ships—were the most vulnerable, and detaching and reactivating them was dangerous. It would take far too much time to offer a practical escape option. But then, no one had considered that the ships might need to be separated while the station was under attack.

  He could evacuate everyone to the center of the station, and was deliberating whether to go a step further and move them all over to Spud when the command hatch opened. Curtis entered with a shirtless Toby.

  Drew took one look at Toby and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  Curtis nodded. “She’s okay. Hit her head, but was conscious and talking. I had her taken to med-lab.”

  Drew exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and returned his attention to his display.

  Curtis joined Drew behind the monitor. “How long can we last?” he asked.

  “A while yet, I think. But we’ll be the worse for it. We’re transmitting a mayday for any ship nearby, but no response. And they won’t be any help if they’re unarmed. Have dispatch order the staff to move people into the center of the station.”

  Curtis stepped to one side and tapped dispatch, relaying Drew’s order. “Should we evacuate everyone to Spud?”

  “I was just thinking that. Only the west armature is passable, and getting there might be more dangerous than staying put. It’s a two kilometer trip and we’ll lose everyone in the arm if it’s breached. But, if this keeps up, Spud may be the safest place. And we need to act while it’s still an option.”

  “Why don’t I put together a team? We can take the women and children over in small groups . . . say a hundred at a time. Can we defend the passage?”

  Drew shook his head. “If the Reagan repositions itself to protect the west armature, it’ll be even more vulnerable because it’ll clue the Diak onto what we’re doing. We could ask the Bin ship to put itself between the arm and the Reagan. To the Diak it would appear like reinforcement for the Reagan, but that would sacrifice the damaged Bin ship. Our best strategy is to move groups to Spud as quickly as we can without signaling our intent.”

  “Yeah, I ag—”

  The room filled with cheers and applause. Simultaneously Drew and Curtis looked to the main viewer. New green squares entered from the top of the screen. First one, then three Muck ships appeared in frame.

  A greeting came over the com, “MCTT Zeta Quadrant Lt. Commander William William here. Do you mind if we join the fun?”

  Drew responded, his voice wavering in relief. “Not at all, sir. This is Chief Cutter, good to see you again. Have at it.”

  As they watched, the green squares split up to engage the Diak. With the added fire power, in a matter of minutes, E2 and E3 were only fragments. E1 turned and ran with all three Muck ships in pursuit.

  As the chase moved to the outer edge of the viewing screen, Curtis pointed to a piece of debris. It floated in the middle of the fragment cloud that had once been Diak E3. A red circle pulsed around it, with the side tag “E3: Escape pod.”

  Drew hailed the Reagan. “Can you send a shuttle to retrieve that pod?”

  “We’re on it, sir!”

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  Curtis walked with Drew to the Reagan, which had docked on what remained of sublevel one. Having caught and destroyed E1, a Muck ship was assisting the damaged Bin vessel while another picked through the Diak debris. Commander William William and a handful of his men shuttled to the Reagan to join the pod examination, while his command ship took up patrol. The chief made an announcement letting everyone know Muck had destroyed their attackers and was now protecting the station. Residents and guests applauded, shouting words of thanks and praise as they passed.

  Drew flashed a victory sign to a particularly boisterous group and spoke to Curtis. “I’ll be surprised if that pod has an occupant, or at least a living one. There wasn’t much time, but if it was undamaged, it should have cleared the debris zone well before the ship disintegrated.”

  Curtis nodded and glanced back over his shoulder just as Toby ducked into a side corridor. They’d ordered him to stay in HQ, but he hadn’t expected Toby to obey. The kid was on his own now and had to get out of his own scrapes. Curtis didn’t want to become his babysitter.

  “Did you speak to Doc?” he asked Drew.

  “Yes. Letty had a cut on the back of her head and a mild concussion, but otherwise she’s okay. Doc wanted to keep her in med-lab for a while, but she wouldn’t listen. Doc’s got her hands full, but Letty’s meeting us on the Reagan.”

  Curtis looked back over his shoulder again.

  “Is Toby behind us?” Drew asked without turning.

  “Yep. What are you going to do with him? Did Jonesy or Kyle find any relatives?”

  “No. I’ll speak to Letty. I think she’ll want to take him back to Earth when she goes.”

  Curtis gave Drew a sideways look. “So . . . she’s going back to Earth. You going with her?”

  “Don’t you wish.”

  “Maybe.” Curtis wasn’t eager to give up his new position. Things had finally gotten interesting, and he liked flying at the top of the pole instead of half-mast. Besides, he was good at it, even Drew had to admit that. And the staff seemed to genuinely respect and trust him now, which surprised the hell out of Curtis. As day commander, he’d only garnered grudging respect. Mattie must be gagging in her cell at my new standing, he thought. I’ll have to stop by and rub it in. He didn’t have the background to continue as chief of administration. The position required an engineering degree, usually in space safety. He could angle for chief of security if Drew left the picture, but not without Drew’s recommendation.

  “I’m kidding, Chief. Everyone’s glad to have you back, including me. I just think if you let the lady go, the distance might kill any chance you have with her.”

  “Day-by-day it seems less likely I have a chance,” Drew confessed. “She hasn’t shown any interest, and there’s been plenty opportunities.”

  Curtis felt as forlorn as Drew looked.

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  A group surrounded the Diak capsule on the shuttle deck of the Reagan. Letty was already there, along with Secretary Rostenkowski, Lt. Commander William, and a combined contingent of armed security crew from both ships.

  “Well,” Drew asked, “what have we got?”

  Rostenkowski took the lead. “Nothing, as far as we can tell. Scans show no life signs, but the pod doesn’t appear to be damaged.”

  “It’s something though. More than we’ve had up to now,” William William said with a soft hum.

  “Have you tried to open it?” Drew asked, as he circled the object looking for an access latch or control panel of some type. The pod was ovoid, seven feet long, three wide and three high, a dull metallic gray, with a smooth, seamless surface.

  Rostenkowski nodded to a woman with a handheld. She stepped out from behind two security crewmen. “This is our ship’s engineer, Sarah Larsen,” Rostenkowski said.

  Larsen consulted her processor and shook her head. “There are no life signs because it’s not a capsule. It’s made of a metal alloy and solid through. There’s nothing to open. Perhaps it’s a ship part, but I can’t imagine its purpose. I don’t think it’s dangerous.”

  “Why would the sensors have identified it as an escape capsule?” Drew asked.

  “Most likely because it was intentionally ejected from the ship,” Larsen said.

  As the group stood silently contemplating the item, its surface undulated in a series of multi-colored ripples, then settled back to smooth, dull gray. In unison, the observers moved back several feet and the security crew raised their weapons. A f
ull minute passed without a word spoken or further change in the pod’s surface.

  Drew finally broke the silence. “How do you know it’s not dangerous? Any possibility it could be a weapon?”

  “Nanoids?” Rostenkowski interposed before Larsen could respond.

  Larsen squinted at her screen and toggled her head from one side to the other. “I can only interpret the readings, which tell me it’s a solid piece of unknown metal alloy.” To Drew, Larsen didn’t look that confident in her readings.

  “I want it off my ship,” Rostenkowski announced.

  “Do you want to space it?” Commander William asked.

  “No—I mean, maybe. I just don’t want it on my ship. Any suggestions?”

  Without taking his eyes off the object, Drew offered, “Why don’t we put it back on the shuttle and move it away from the station. Larsen can share her readings with my engineers and Commander William’s. If there’s a consensus—or not—we’ll decide what to do from there.”

  Rostenkowski looked reluctant. “My ship only has the one shuttle.”

  “Likewise,” Commander William said.

  Drew shook his head. “We only have a two-man maintenance craft. It’s too small for the pod.” He considered moving it to Spud, when Curtis spoke up.

  “What about the screamer cell?”

  Letty glanced from Curtis to Drew. “What’s a screamer cell?”

  Drew hid his annoyance. He didn’t want the Diak object on his station any more than Rostenkowski wanted it on her ship. Though it was a perfect example of what the cell had been designed to hold. “It’s a cross between a maximum-security detention cell and an ejectable airlock,” he said. “Plus, we can introduce an anti-contaminate or knock-out mist if either’s called for. We’ve used it twice. Once for a screamer that Doc refused to sedate, and once for a nut case who insisted on smearing feces on herself and anything else in her reach. Neither were dangerous, but the cell was designed to hold anything that could threaten the station. When it’s occupied, it’s under twenty-four-seven scan.”