by Rachel Aukes
She took a long drink. It helped but didn’t take away the scratchiness. “How could you see in the dark?”
He shook his head. “I can’t, but we get blackouts in the tunnels all the time. I’ve learned that if you stay calm and rely on your other senses, the dark’s not so bad. Those guys out there? They were screwed the moment they freaked out.”
She chuckled. “I’ve never been saved by someone with only a spray bottle before. You may be the craziest person I’ve ever met.”
He gave her a wink, then sobered. “We need to move. Those guards carry radios. It won’t take them too long to find someone to reset the breaker for them.”
He helped her to her feet.
“I’ve got a bum right leg,” she said.
“I figured that,” he said. He slid his arm around her back, and she placed her arm over his shoulders for support. He began walking them down the tunnel to the right. “Guaranteed they’re headed to the same place we are.”
Her upper lip curled. “The Javelin.”
“We can get to it first, but you won’t like the way.”
“I’ll like it just fine if it gets us there before Jakob—oh.”
“Yeah, I saw it. He ain’t recovering from that,” Mutt said.
She grimaced. Jakob was the only one who wanted her alive. Every other guard in that squad had strong motivation to see her dead. They’d be racing to the West docks as soon as the tunnel lights were reset.
Not that they’d be out of danger if they got there before the squad chasing them. She had no doubt that Jakob would’ve stationed guards at the Javelin as soon as he reneged their deal. Mutt and Throttle were going into a gunfight, and neither one had a gun.
“You don’t happen to have a gun on you, do you?” she asked.
“Nope. I had a rifle. One of the bastards grabbed it in the tunnel. I had to cut it loose.”
She sighed, and while she tried to hold herself up, her body was weakening. She was running purely on adrenaline, and even that was nearing empty. Her muscles quivered from exhaustion and the beginnings of dehydration. Her fingers had gone cold. She knew she’d lost some blood from her latest injury, but they couldn’t stop to patch it up, not that she had anything to patch it with. Her body just had to get her to the Javelin. Then she’d give it the rest and care it needed.
Mutt carried much of her weight as he hurried them through the tunnels. The only times he let go of her was when they had to descend ladders. Luckily, they were going down rather than up. She wasn’t so sure she could climb more than a few rungs. As it was, she grabbed onto the outside verticals of each ladder and slid down.
Mutt and Throttle stopped at a tunnel door that had a warning sign on it that read TUNNEL COMPROMISED. DO NOT ENTER.
“I’m guessing this is a gutter rat trick to keep people out?” she said.
He shook his head. “No, the wall was perforated by some debris once and was never sealed properly.”
Her eyes widened. “We can’t survive the vacuum.”
“It’s not completely compromised. It’s just slow leaks here and there.” He swallowed. “When I open this door, it’s going to try to suck us right through, so be careful not to hit your head. I’ll take us through as fast as possible. Oh, and keep your fingers tucked into fists. It’ll be twenty below in there, and you’ll likely get a touch of frostbite. Not much we can do for our ears and noses.”
She had her doubts, but he didn’t ask if she was ready. He simply reached for the door and cranked it open. She was a little surprised to find that it wasn’t locked, but she suspected that most people would know to avoid a door with a large red X on it.
The door flung open, and the pressure popped her ears. She was tugged forward, but with Mutt holding her, the pair had more weight and fended off the initial change in pressure. They stepped through, and she could already feel the bitter cold. That she could breathe, though the air was thin, meant that the tunnel was mostly sealed. She’d spent a lifetime in the black and knew the sensations from every level of breach. A few pinpricks were all it took to make a place unlivable.
Mutt was practically running. Throttle was doing everything she could to keep her working leg from dragging. The cold stabbed at her skin, and she started seeing stars before her eyes. Soon the stars became black dots, and the dots were expanding. Her fingers had gone numb.
Then she was on the floor, and Mutt was struggling to push a door open. She tried to get onto her knees to help but fell forward. Time started to slip.
She felt herself floating, and heat began to nip at her frozen skin and renew her energy. She attempted to open her eyes, realized they were already open, and shook her head to clear the ringing in her ears. Mutt knelt before her. “You still with me?”
“Yeah.” She pushed herself up and held out a hand. He helped her stand.
“It’s not much farther now,” he said. “Just a couple of turns.”
She talked as he led them to keep herself focused. “How are there so many tunnels? Seems inefficient to be pumping power and air through unnecessary spaces.”
“They’re not unnecessary. They’re not even tunnels as people think of them. Most of them are the structural braces that hold the various living units together. The braces are hollow to preserve resources. Originally, there used to be air circulated through all the living units. With new technology, they found more efficient ways of distributing the air. Since the tunnels are still needed by maintenance crews, they decided to keep them functioning and just closed all the doors to cut down on air waste.”
“You know a lot about these tunnels,” she said.
“I’ve lived here my entire life.” She felt him shrug. “I taught history at Jade City Campus until they made the switch to computer-based courses.”
“And you ended up in the gutters.”
“And I ended up in the gutters,” he echoed.
He turned a corner and kept walking.
She spoke again. “Thanks. Back there. You saved my life.”
He smiled. “Twice, and that’s just this past hour.” He blew out a breath. “You’re my ride out of here. I need you alive until I’m at least off this hunk of metal.” His voice changed then. “We’re coming up on the dock.”
He helped her lean next to an access door and then opened it a couple of inches.
“Here they are! Freeze!” someone shouted.
Mutt yanked the door shut and slid a knife through the handle to keep it from turning. “We’ve still got some of West’s buddies out there. And my guess is that someone told them to expect company.”
She could feel someone pounding on the other side of the wall. She’d lost the shiv somewhere along the way, but knew it’d do little good in a gunfight. She tapped her wrist-comm to open the channel. “Sylvian.”
“Captain, we’re ready for takeoff. We show that you are nearly here.”
“I need you to come get us. We’re at the tunnel entrance…don’t know how many guards are out there.”
“Hang on. We’ll be to you in no time.”
She smiled. “Help’s coming.”
She heard gunshots and shouting. And an explosion. She shook her head. “Damn it. Garrett’s going to breach the dock.”
After the explosion, there were only a few more shots before she heard nothing else. Someone tapped on the door. It was the same rhythmic sequence he did every time he knocked.
“It’s him,” she said and grinned again.
Mutt opened the door to reveal Garrett standing there with a photon rifle and two strings of shock grenades strapped on his chest. “Finally, I get to join in on the action around here!” He noticed Mutt. “Who’s this guy?”
Throttle made quick introductions. “Garrett, Mutt.”
“Help your captain on board, Garrett,” Mutt said and stepped through the access door.
Garrett whistled. “You really did a number on your legs, boss. Your braces—”
“Yeah. I know,” she said.
“Bi
rk’s not going to be happy.”
“No, he’s not,” she said.
They followed Mutt to the airlock. It would’ve made more sense for Mutt to help her walk since Garrett was the one with all the weapons, but she imagined the gutter rat figured he’d done enough.
“Thanks for the help back there, Garrett,” she said.
He guffawed. “I would’ve come out a lot earlier if I could’ve done some good.”
“I know you would’ve.”
They stepped through the Javelin’s airlock doors, which shut immediately behind them. She found Mutt staring at the placard on the wall.
Mutt glanced over his shoulder. “Fortes fortuna adiuvat. Fortune favors the bold. Interesting choice.”
Ah, so that was what it meant. Throttle let the meaning soak in and shrugged. “I like it.” She motioned him to follow her to the bridge. “How do you know what it means?”
“It’s written in one of the ancient languages that were used before there was a universal language. The only reason I remember it is that it’s from an old legend from back in the early days of space colonization.”
As Garrett helped her down the hallway, Rusty spoke. “Hello, Throttle. I’m relieved to have you back on board.”
“Hi, Rusty,” Throttle said. “You ready to get out of here?”
“Very much so. I find this place unwelcoming.”
“Nice ship you’ve got here,” Mutt said, then shrugged. “But I’ve never been on a ship before, so I’ve got nothing to compare it to.”
As soon as they reached the bridge, Sylvian rushed forward and gave Throttle a hug. “I was getting so worried.”
“See? Nothing to worry about?” she said as Garrett helped her to her seat.
Aubree stepped forward and looked Throttle up and down, her arms crossed. “Look at you. How many times did you get shot?”
“Only once, I think,” Throttle replied. “But I could use a plasma pack.”
“You’re not the doctor. I am,” Aubree said.
Throttle waved at Garrett. “Go into my quarters. Bring me a stim. Birk keeps them in a sock in the bottom drawer.”
“Sure thing.” Garrett took off.
“You’re not taking a stim,” Aubree said as she opened her medical kit and sat before Throttle. The medic gingerly pulled away the shredded chime suit from her leg and winced. “You need a plasma pack.”
Throttle shot Aubree a hard look. “It’s one thing getting the Gabriela and Javelin out of here, but we still have to go pick up our sleepers.” She glanced up. “Rusty, give me a view to the dock.”
The window cleared.
“Looks like they finally caught up with us,” Mutt said, looking at the squad at the airlock.
She nodded toward Mutt. “Take any open station.”
Aubree looked at Mutt and shot Throttle a questioning look.
“Mutt’s with us, and he can be trusted,” Throttle said loud enough for Sylvian to hear. “Now, what’s the status of the Gabriela?”
“It took Birk and Nolin some time to program in the flight plan to Hiraeth and run all the launch checks, but they’ve just undocked and are moving toward Jade-8’s warehouse now,” Sylvian said.
“Good. Keep in contact with them. Tell them we’ll join up alongside them once we’re clear of Jade-8’s airspace,” Throttle said. “Do you have the coordinates for the warehouse unit?”
“I do,” Sylvian said. “I’ve sent them to Nolin and also saved them on Rusty’s network.”
“I see them.” Throttle tagged the coordinates on the map in front of her before she glanced upward. “Rusty, create a flight plan to Hiraeth. As soon as we grab the sleepers, we’ll initiate the flight plan.”
“Compiling data now,” Rusty said.
Throttle tapped the comm on her panel. “Hey, Eddy. How’re we looking for launch?”
“It’s about time. I’ve been ready since yesterday. At least as ready as we can be, given all I have to work with is what’s on this ship. By the way, I get first dibs on the printer when we get it back. I’ve already designed the new units and have some ideas. What do you think of—”
“We’ll talk about it later, Eddy.” Throttle ran her fingers over the panel and pulled up the prelaunch checks and then paused. “Rusty, can you run all the prelaunch checks?”
“Yes. I’m capable of performing many flight-crew operations.”
Throttle waited a moment. When Rusty didn’t say anything else, she added, “Run the checks, Rusty.”
“Running prelaunch system checks now.” A few seconds later, the central command system spoke again. “Checks complete. All systems are within operational parameters. I’m sending the results to your screen now.”
“That was fast.” Throttle scrolled through the numbers. “Okay. Everyone, buckle in. I’m initiating launch sequence.”
“I’m not moving until I can at least stop your bleeding,” Aubree said.
Throttle glanced down to see three deep gashes on her right leg. “Okay, but hang on because things might get bumpy.”
Aubree nodded, but she didn’t grab anything solid and instead returned her focus to Throttle’s leg.
“You can’t launch yet,” Mutt said. “If that airlock door is open when we detach, it’ll kill everyone near here.”
Throttle grimaced as she considered options.
Rusty spoke. “Captain, the dock is pinging us.”
Throttle opened a comm channel as she looked through the window at the dock. “Javelin to dock control. We’re undocking. You’d better close that airlock.”
“You can’t. Your ship still has a restraining cable attached,” the guard said with a haughtiness to his voice.
Throttle looked to Sylvian. “Tell me you got in.”
Sylvian smiled. She ran several commands on her panel. Throttle didn’t hear the cable locks release, but the guard’s expression confirmed they were free.
“We’re launching. You have five seconds to close that airlock,” Throttle said.
They had it closed in three.
Chapter Twenty
Throttle pulled the Javelin out from the dock faster than she normally would, but she was tired, sore, and in a hurry to meet up with the Gabriela. As she reversed the ship, she saw several other ships docked down the row. That none seemed to be powered up gave her hope that they could get out of Jade-8’s airspace without any more problems.
Her fingers flew over the controls as she repositioned the nav engines to turn and propel the ship away from the Jade-8.
“Rusty, keep an eye out for ships in Jade-8’s airspace that are on trajectories that could intercept us or the Gabriela.”
“I’ll monitor the airspace, but the station’s structure creates a lot of noise for my sensors.”
“Understood.” She felt movement at her hip and saw that Aubree had twisted the injured leg and was stitching the second of the three gashes.
“Here you go, boss,” Garrett said as he tapped her shoulder.
Throttle glanced up to see him holding out his hand, a tiny slip of brown paper in his palm.
“Thanks.” She picked up the stim and placed it on her tongue. It had a mild yet tart flavor. Within seconds, she felt more awake.
Garrett spoke. “You ought to see how many stims Birk’s got stashed, not to mention the sweet soy and other stuff. He could start a drug cartel.”
“He likes to keep things on hand to barter,” Throttle said.
“He’d better not try to sell that shit to my people,” Mutt said. “Some of them have addictive personalities, and they don’t need more demons to fight in their lives.”
“He won’t. I lost a good friend to sweet soy, and I won’t let it take anyone new,” she said, though she suspected he was saving all those drugs for himself. As far as she knew, he only used stims. He’d better not be using sweet soy. She made a mental note to throw all the sweet soy out an airlock after they were free of Jade-8.
“Good. Because if I catch any of my people with
Trappist drugs, I’m going to have a bone to pick with your guy pal,” Mutt said.
“Fair enough,” Throttle said.
“There,” Aubree said as she pushed to her feet. “I’ve stopped the bleeding, but you’re going to need surgery to repair the muscle and ligaments, and I don’t have the tools to perform anything like that on board.”
“We’ll worry about it later,” Throttle said.
“They won’t heal properly as they are right now,” Aubree continued.
“Aubree, when Jade-8 is behind us, you can work on my legs as long as you want.”
She added power to the nav engines, and the station moved faster by the windows. To reach the tag on her map, she had to fly to the other side of the station. As they came around the outer edge of the rotating station, she saw the Gabriela moving at a snail’s crawl to the warehouse.
Beyond the cargo ship, Throttle saw dozens of standalone white cubical structures all tethered together to a central sphere from which a single thick line, large enough to be a tunnel, attached to a pivot point at the center of Jade-8 that kept the warehouse structure from rotating.
Each cube was a warehouse unit well over five hundred feet on each side. Identification numbers were painted across the sides. They weren’t smooth—the walls looked like many small boxes were smashed together and used to build containers. As Throttle expected, there were round loops located on the edges and sides for tug hooks.
Throttle glanced at her map. They were coming up on the tag, but there were so many units, she couldn’t tell which one was the right one. “Sylvian, do you have a number for the unit?”
“Yeah, I have it here somewhere. Just a second.” Sylvian’s head made small bobs as she read through a list. “It’s three-three-eight-one. The printer and other supplies are in a second unit. That one’s zero-one-nine-three.”
Throttle scanned the warehouse units. “I’ve got the sleepers. And,” she drawled out, “I’ve got the second unit. They’re not too far apart. It looks like the Gabriela is going to the sleepers first. Good.”
“Sorry,” Sylvian said.