by Easton Royce
The rattle of Cooper's bones against the steel echoed through the corridor.
"What is it with you people?" shouted Potter. His face was only an inch away from Cooper's. "How can you expect to be a Marine when you can't follow a simple order?"
Staring at the Tank, Potter felt the anger inside him spike like a solar flare. He slammed Cooper's shoulders back against the door one more time.
Cooper never took his eyes off Potter's. "Don't ever touch me again," he growled.
Potter burst out laughing, amused that a Tank would dare to threaten him.
"Oh, and what's so special about you?" he mocked. "I've got a petrie dish—I can always make another Tank."
Potter wanted to fight. Any excuse to land his fists on this Tank would do. Even if it drew some of his own blood, it would be worth it. And if he just happened to kill this sorry Tank in the process, well, no one would question that it was self-defense.
It never occurred to Potter that Cooper might kill him. After all, everyone knew that Tanks were too lazy to put up a good fight—too stupid even to know how.
But before they could start, alarms squealed out all around them. The ship began to shudder violently once more.
Chapter 8
The reactor scrammed again, sending Damphousse and the rest of the crew into another emergency shutdown.
In the cannon turret, Wang and Shane arced their weapons back and forth. But their electronic view sights showed them nothing to fire at.
On the bridge, crewmen and Marines fought to get the bucking spaceship back under control.
Captain Llewellyn grabbed the radio. He had to hold on to a support beam to keep himself from being thrown across the bridge.
"Generator room!" he radioed, "reactor down, go to secondary energy supply! Now!"
"Aye, sir!" came the garbled response.
On the bridge, they could hear the generator crank on. The dimmed lights began to brighten.
BOOM! An explosion ripped through the ship so violently it felt as if it was being torn apart. But this time, the explosion wasn't caused by anything outside—it came from the generator room.
"Fire in the hole!" screamed the chief mechanic over the radio. "Generator one blew!"
The lights sputtered and died, plunging the ship into complete darkness. The only sound was the roar of the flames eating up the generator room.
Llewellyn tried to stay calm.
"Potter, this is the captain!" he radioed down. "Get a fire team to station four! Repeat—fire team to station four!"
In the cargo hold, Potter and Cooper were still face-to-face—ready to brawl. Potter backed away first, heading off to deal with the latest emergency.
In the bowels of the crippled ship, the primary generator was twisted and shorn to jagged pieces. Flame, smoke, and steam engulfed the entire room.
The smoke was so thick, Potter and Hawkes could hardly see as they made their way along the catwalk. They met up with Keats and several other men as they hurried along.
"How bad is it?" Potter shouted.
"Bad," was Keats's only response. "Our mechanic's dead."
They pried open the fire doors and climbed onto the catwalk above the generators. Shafts of scalding steam cut through the billows of black smoke.
"We've got to get to the emergency shut-off valve," said Keats. He was pointing into the inferno of steam and smoke below.
Potter turned to one of the other crewmen. "Can you get to it?"
The crewman shook his head fearfully.
"We've got to do something," insisted Keats, "or we'll lose the second generator, too."
"There's protective gear in the cargo hold. Go!" Potter ordered the crewman.
Keats grabbed Potter's arm. "We don't have time!"
"There's no other way," Potter responded defiantly.
Cooper took a step toward Keats and grabbed the wrench out of his hand.
"Cooper! What are you doing?" Keats asked.
Without a word, Cooper turned and walked to the end of the catwalk. He carefully climbed down the ladder into the flesh-searing steam.
The fact was, Cooper knew he was capable of doing some pretty amazing things. He'd surprised himself in the Battle of the Belt, for instance—risking his own life to lure the Chigs into an ambush. They even gave him a medal for it.
But what finally convinced him was the arrogant look on Potter's face. He'd show Potter just how "worthless" Tanks were.
Above him Keats shouted, "Are you crazy? You don't owe anyone this, Cooper!"
Cooper pushed Keats's voice out of his mind. If the generator blew, they were all dead. Life support would go out with the power. Then it would be only a matter of minutes before the heat from the twin suns boiled them in this tin can of a ship. It was either die now or die later.
Cooper finally reached the generator floor. The steam blasted into the air all around him, scalding his lungs as he breathed. His flesh felt as if it were melting from the heat. For the first time, he felt true fear take root inside him. He forced it out, letting his anger at Potter drive him on. He pushed forward through the steam.
The heat was too intense. He thought he might crumble like volcanic ash. Beside him he spotted a heavy piece of shrapnel from the blown primary generator. Snatching it up, he held it before him like a shield. It helped a little.
He knew where the shut-off valve should be for the generator. At least, he thought he knew. If he was wrong, he would die down here—just like the chief mechanic.
Red emergency lights were blinking all around him, making the steam itself look as if it were on fire. He passed the twisted, jagged mass of the blown primary generator. He was almost there. But it was hot, so hot. Steam was singeing off the neck hairs around his gestation navel. The navel burned like fire, for it was one of the most sensitive parts of his body.
Holding his breath he pushed forward. His lungs couldn't take one more load of the super-heated nir. If he didn't find that valve soon... His hand touched something. The shut-off valve!
Hooking the wrench around the rusty bolt of the valve, he cranked it—hard. Then again and again. On the fourth turn, the sound of the steam seemed to change. Another crank, and the heat didn't seem so intense, the steam so thick.
Cooper kept pushing on the wrench until the hissing stopped and the steam had been cut off. Only then did he dare to suck in another breath.
It was hot and heavy, but it no longer scalded his lungs. The steam had put out the fire, and he had shut down the steam. His whole body was drenched with sweat. His flesh was beet red from the heat, but that would pass. He looked up at the catwalk. Through the clearing steam, First Mate Potter stared down at him with more hatred in his eyes than ever before.
Cooper matched his gaze, still breathing hard. In front of everyone there, Cooper had proven himself to be a better man than Potter. And it was worth everything to see that furious look of humiliation on Potter's face.
Turning to the crew members around him, Potter started barking orders. "Cargo hold! Now!" he shouted. He stormed off with several of the others following in his wake.
Potter tried to maintain his air of power and control. But his voice—even his arrogant walk—suddenly took on the empty threat of a coward.
Chapter 9
"Colonel, I'm getting something again!"
McQueen turned to Nathan West at the radar screen. "What's its signature?" he asked. "Can you identify it?"
"I can't be sure."
McQueen pounded his fist against the console. He was rapidly losing patience with the young pilot. "What does your gut tell you, West? What's the level of threat?"
Nathan shook his head. "I can't tell, Colonel. Not without more information. All I'm getting is microwave emissions."
Nathan picked up a light pen and zapped the screen. The image enlarged. It was gray, shapeless, and hopelessly out of focus. It could be anything. McQueen also stared at the image, thinking hard. "Do you remember the specs on the U3-78?" he asked.
> Nathan turned to him, clearly annoyed. "What we have here is an unidentified blob—"
"GIVE ME THE U3-78 SPECS!" McQueen screamed so loudly that everyone on the bridge stared. Nathan was nearly blown back in his chair.
"Uh... the U3-78... it's an Alien class-D destroyer... a hunter/killer."
"Weapons package?" demanded McQueen.
"Rockets... mines... guided weapons..." recited Nathan.
McQueen leaned closer. "What else?"
"Special Ops thinks it might have advanced microwave technology," said Nathan, "that can interfere with—"
Suddenly Nathan looked up at McQueen. "Can interfere with electronic communications!"
"And cause reactor temperatures to spike," McQueen added.
Nathan nodded. "It goes for the soft kill," he said. "Our reactor could have blown! We'd never even have known the Alien ship was there."
"My gut tells me your unidentified blob is a U3-78," McQueen said. "They know we're not dead, and now they're coming in for the hard kill."
Around them the lights suddenly flickered. With the primary generator blown, the overloaded second generator wouldn't last much longer.
Nathan looked back at the radar screen. His hands began to work quickly on the controls. "Sir," he announced, "I have radar contact. Bearing two-seven-six... range two parsecs... azimuth four-niner..." Nathan turned to McQueen. "A U3-78."
The lights flickered wildly again. This time, the radar screen went on and off with them. McQueen turned to Captain Llewellyn. "We're going to need more power to get us out of harm's way," he said.
Llewellyn gritted his teeth. "There's only one way to get it. Cut power to one section of the cargo hold."
McQueen hesitated. This ship had a living cargo—humans and In-Vitros.
"You mean... we have to kill people."
"It's simple math, Colonel," Llewellyn said. "Either one cargo section dies, or we all die. There's really no other choice." He paused and went on. "Section 46 gives us the most power for the least number of lives." Without waiting for McQueen's response, he picked up the intercom and sent the orders.
Down in the generator room, Keats and Cooper were busy tightening everything that had been rattled loose in the blast. As they were struggling to lift a heavy spool of wire, Llewellyn's orders came over the speaker.
"Generator room, stand by to cut power to Section 46. Repeat, stand by to cut power to Section 46, on my order."
It was like a sharp kick in the ribs. The spool slipped from Cooper's hands and clattered to the soot-covered ground.
He looked at Keats. "He can't be saying what I think he's saying."
Keats snatched up the intercom handset. "Section 46 houses twelve containers of In-Vitros, Captain," he said. "That's more than two hundred lives."
Llewellyn's response was cold. "The generator's failing. It's the only way to give us the power we need."
"There has to be another way, Captain."
"That's an order, Keats. Stand by." The captain terminated the transmission.
Keats slammed the intercom back in its cradle.
Cooper had heard every word. "McQueen won't let this happen," he insisted. "He's one of us."
"He's on the bridge with Llewellyn. Did you hear him raise his voice in protest?" Keats snapped.
Cooper couldn't think of a thing to say. His gut felt like it was trying to claw its way up his throat. McQueen—McQueen was going to let Llewellyn go through with it. Cooper was suddenly overwhelmed by more emotions than he'd ever thought he had. And what he felt was more painful, more awful than even the searing steam he had faced to save the generator.
Keats took a long look at Cooper, without speaking. At last he gestured at the tattered cargo manifest that was still sticking out of Cooper's pocket.
"What did you find?" Keats asked.
Cooper's voice was barely a whisper.
"I've got a sister in Section 46."
Chapter 10
The U3-78 was probably the most powerful, most advanced warship in the entire Alien fleet. This was the ship that was now headed straight for the MacArthur. And the MacArthur was a helpless target—drifting crippled in the fiery gut of Blood Alley.
"Engine room, this is the bridge," radioed McQueen. "Can you go on-line?"
"Negative," Damphousse said, confirming what they already knew. "There just isn't enough power." The lights flickered again. By now they were so dim it was hard to make out anyone's face in the shadows.
Captain Llewellyn turned to McQueen. "We just ran out of options, Colonel."
McQueen nodded silently, handing Llewellyn the intercom.
Captain Llewellyn pressed the intercom button. He spoke loudly, filling the room with his words.
"Keats," he said. "This is the captain. Cut power to Section 46."
***
In the generator room, Keats held the intercom but did not press the button to speak.
"Keats," the captain said again. "Do you read me? Cut power to Section 46."
Finally Keats brought the intercom to his lips and responded. "No, Captain."
Cooper stood behind him in the shadows. He was too confused to do anything but stare slack-jawed as Keats disobeyed a direct order.
"What's the problem, Keats?" asked the captain, his voice angry and threatening.
"I'm the problem, Captain," Keats replied with a calm resolve in his voice.
"There's not a lot of room for interpretation in my order," said Captain Llewellyn.
"I won't do it," Keats replied. "Too many of us have died fighting your wars."
On the other end they could hear Llewellyn losing control. "You're putting every life on this ship at risk, Mr. Keats."
"Fine," Keats said. "Then we will all die equals." The muzzle of a handgun moved out from behind the shadows, followed by a body. Potter stepped out from behind the generator with his gun trained on Keats's forehead.
"But some are more equal than others," Potter sneered. He clicked the safety and tightened his grip on the trigger. He grinned. He was more than happy to make Keats the first Tank to die.
Cooper didn't stop to think. He leaped from the shadows and rammed his shoulder into Potter, kicking Potter's knee and bringing the first mate to the ground. He wrenched the gun out of Potter's hand.
In seconds, two other crewmen were scurrying down the ladder to the generator room. They were both In-Vitros—ready to join Keats's side.
Keats jammed his knee in the small of Potter's back. He wrenched Potter's hands behind him and tied them together with heavy graphite duct tape.
"Get him up," Keats ordered.
The two crewmen hauled Potter to his feet. Keats snatched the gun from Cooper and took control. "Get him out of my sight," Keats ordered. The two men took Potter away—the first hostage of an In-Vitro mutiny.
Keats turned to Cooper. "You gonna help me save those Tanks in Section 46?" he asked. "Or are you gonna kill your own people?"
Cooper couldn't move—couldn't act. He felt as crippled as the great ship itself—drifting, powerless. But Keats didn't have time to wait for an answer. He left, clattering out of the generator room with the other Tanks close behind him.
Captain Llewellyn was still on the intercom. His voice sounded weak and tinny over the small speaker. "Keats!" he shouted. "Keats! Confirm you're cutting power to Section 46!"
Cooper looked at the power grid in front of him.
The console of buttons were marked from one to one hundred, one button for each section of the cargo hold.
"Keats!" demanded the captain's voice over the speaker. "Answer me! What's going on down there?"
Cooper held his finger out over the console and found number 46. Just a short time before, he had risked his own life to save this ship. But was he willing to sacrifice the unborn? Was he willing to sacrifice his sister?
Cooper thought back to the flight simulations they had done in basic training. They were practice simulations for battle. The choices were clear cut—kill or be
killed. But there were no practice simulations for dealing with impossible choices. And that's exactly what Cooper was faced with now.
In his six years of life he had never known anyone who shared his blood. He had been unbelievably lucky to find someone now. He knew he would probably never find a blood-relation again.
Button number 46 seemed to glow at him from the console. A simple movement from him could save the ship and end the mutiny.
Right.
At that moment he knew he'd rather jettison himself out into space than lose his sister.
Chapter 11
In the engine room, Damphousse, Ashby, and Sorrell still tended to the reactor, working side-by-side. That is, until Keats stormed in. He pulled Ashby and Sorrell aside.
After hearing what the captain had ordered Keats to do, the two In-Vitros joined the mutiny. Within minutes, Keats had mustered all the In-Vitro crew members together. They raided the ammunitions locker and headed toward the bridge with furious determination. And their first hostage—Potter.
On the bridge, an alarm suddenly blared. But it had nothing to do with the approaching band of In-Vitro pirates.
"Missiles launched!" Nathan shouted. His eyes were fixed on the radar screen. Two blips emerged from the U3-78 that was stalking them.
McQueen reacted quickly, picking up the intercom. "Engine room! Give me everything you've got!"
"Aye, sir!" responded Damphousse. "Three point six kilotons thrust, everything we have left!"
The MacArthur jolted as its proton engine fired up. They were burning the last bit of stored energy the ship had.
"Vansen! Wang!" shouted McQueen. "Lock on those missiles!"
"We're locked!" Shane announced. "Ready to rock and roll!"
But the missiles were moving too quickly for them to hit. Shane and Wang were useless behind their ancient laser cannons.
The Chig missiles were sophisticated pieces of machinery—rarely known to miss. If one of the missiles hit the ship, it would tear it in two, killing everyone on board. If both hit, there would be nothing left of the MacArthur but tiny balls of molten metal.