Grace pulled her hands to the front and nearly cried in pain as she moved them freely for the first time in two days. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “Let me see the door.” She pushed past the women. She raised her left hand, ignoring the sharp stabs in her muscles, and grabbed one of the bars with her bracelets to give it an exploratory pull. It didn’t budge, but the door itself shifted. “No chance. Solid welds and I’ll make a lot of noise if I even try. What about your laser?”
“The battery won’t last long enough to get through that much steel,” Whitaker said. “If you can’t break out, we’ll have to wait until they come for us. It won’t be long.” Grace shuffled to the rear of the prison and put her arms behind her back to conceal her freedom. Whitaker dug a metal cylinder out of the cavity in his arm and passed it to Davey. “Here’s my beacon. When you’re clear of the Sparrow, my ship will pick you up.”
“Oy in there.”
Grace could just see the pair of guards outside. “Is there a problem?” Yvonne asked as she turned and folded her arms.
“Mr. Logan wants to have a word with you, Ms. Naude. Everyone else, step away from the door, please.” He gestured his rifle to emphasize the point. Grace readied herself as Elizabeth crossed to sit beside her and gave her a wink. She took a deep breath.
The door swung open. Grace grabbed one of the guards and threw him with bone-shattering force into his comrade. Davey was out the door like a shot and fumbling for their weapons mere seconds later. Grace bounded after him, and despite all of her best instincts screaming that it was a terrible idea, she shut the door. Much as she wanted to fight and retake the Sparrow, there were too many enemies to risk it, especially with nonfighters like Elizabeth and Yvonne. Someone had to escape to get help.
Grace saw three more terrorists dive for cover the second she appeared. She couldn’t resist the smug smile that crept across her face. They’d respect her now. The only problem was that they’d have backup swarming down that ladder before they knew what was happening. And then Grace would be overwhelmed again with more targets than she could swat away.
“Grace, move!” Davey was already backing towards the lockers that held their pressure suits, keeping Grace in between him and the hiding terrorists.
She backed toward him, eyes searching for anyone getting a brave or stupid idea. So far, they were all keeping their heads down. She risked a quick glance at Davey. He already had their suits out and was prepping his. “Make it fast,” she said.
“What do you think I’m doing?” He shoved his legs into the suit. “Taking a leisurely stroll?”
“They’re coming down the ladder, so any faster would make our odds of not dying go up.” She grimaced at the stream of men coming from the main deck. This was going to take too long. “Please tell me you’re almost done.”
“Close enough,” he said, latching on his helmet.
“Then give me cover,” she said and started working on her own suit.
Davey hefted his scavenged rifle. “Keep your distance!” he shouted. “My sister made a mess of you last time, and I’d hate to punch the rest of you full of holes.”
“There’s nowhere to go,” a voice said from the ladder well. As she pulled the suit over her waist, Grace glanced over her shoulder to see Logan duck behind cover. Of course, if he was dumb enough to expose himself, she’d take a few extra risks to rid the universe of that slime. Unfortunately for the rest of the human race, he had more brains than that. “Even if you make it out of the ship,” he said, “as the pressure suits clearly imply, there’s nothing within millions of kilometers. This is your last chance to avoid certain death.”
“Or you could just surrender to us,” Davey suggested.
“Is that honestly the best taunt you’ve got? You’ve been listening to too many radio dramas.”
“I think they’re underrated. Maybe give them a chance.”
Grace clipped her helmet on. She nodded at Davey, and in unison they hit a switch on their suits. Air rushed from the compressed canister as they pressurized. “Thanks for letting us stall, you thruster nozzle.” She reached out with her bracelet and hit the panel for the main lift some distance from her. There was a mechanical groan as it started to lower, and the environmental shield snapped into place. “How long does the lift take to bottom out?” she whispered to Davey.
“About thirty seconds.”
“We don’t have that long.”
“Take them now!” someone shouted. “Before they escape.”
Grace grabbed Davey by the hand, and they ran, closing the four-meter gap and diving through the shield just as bullets began to shatter around the invisible barrier provided by her bracelet. Grace looked up as faces appeared overhead. She wrapped her arms around Davey and molten fragments splattered from blocked gunfire. Any second now, the air would be ripped from around them, so their attackers wouldn’t risk coming through the shield. But Grace couldn’t help but hear Matthew’s warning that her bracelets couldn’t protect her indefinitely.
Were they almost at the bottom?
The sound of the gunfire nearly disappeared as the lift cracked into open space. There was a faint rumble still transmitting through the metal of the ship, the lift, and up into their boots, but it was a lot less terrifying than the deafening barrage it had been. The crack widened until it was big enough to squeeze through. Davey yanked her hand, and together they slipped out of the Sparrow.
They were free. Her magnetized boots stuck to the hull and she let her body hang slack in the zero gee. “Test. Do I have you?” Grace said into the suit-to-suit comm.
“We’re live. Hurry. They may suit up and try to follow. And if they borrow one of our suits, they’ll be on the same frequency.” Davey reached a tether from his suit and clipped it to Grace’s.
Ready?”
“On three. One. Two. Three.”
Hand in hand, they demagnetized their boots and pushed off the hull, aiming for the black of space. Grace gritted her teeth as she watched the Sparrow start to recede. She’d feel better if they’d had time to grab their thruster packs to put some distance between them and the ship. Their warm bodies would show up on the scope for several minutes, and there was a small window where they could be chased down. Being separated from the ship without any means to return to it also brought a shiver of fear. It was a worst nightmare scenario for any spacewalk, and they’d just done it deliberately.
But the Sparrow sat silent and unmoving as it slowly receded. The only sound was her own breath and occasionally Davey’s when the comm picked it up. “Pretty wild, huh?” she said, mostly to hear her own voice.
“If Whitaker was lying about his ship, this is going to be a bad way to die.”
“I trust him. He had nothing to gain by sending us off to suffocate.”
Davey grunted. Here between the planets, there was no rescue. No way anyone would find the two lost siblings if she was wrong. A needle in a haystack didn’t even begin to describe the scale of how small they were in the universe.
“Hey, look at that,” Grace said. The Sparrow’s main engines lit up and it accelerated away until it was just a pinprick of light amongst the stars. “I guess Logan thinks he just executed us.”
“Whitaker said his ship would keep its distance until he gave the signal at our escape. It should be on approach now.”
“Just how many controls were on that little beacon?”
“I didn’t get a good look. But we’ll have time to poke at it later.” Grace saw him smile through the faceplate. “And we’ll be able to explore his ship. He’s probably hiding all sorts of secrets.”
“It’s probably booby-trapped.”
“You’d think he’d warn us if that was the case.”
Twenty minutes later, the lights of a ship approached them. They had seen it once before after the adventure with the Mosaic frigate when Whitaker picked up the rescued salvage team. Of course, Grace hadn’t had any need to pay attention back then, and now she had a few more years of experience in ap
praising ships. The Imperious Doubt was easily larger than the Sparrow and more heavily armed. It would probably qualify as a Patrol Craft rather than a Utility Vessel, like the Sparrow. And like everything else that Whitaker owned, it was very modern and high tech.
“You know,” Davey said. “I have no idea how we’re going to get in safely without a thruster pack.”
“Let’s just see what happens.”
The Doubt slowed its approach and turned its port side to face them, steam thrusters firing to make fine course adjustments. It lined up and crept ever closer. When the airlock opened right in front of them, Grace was hardly surprised, but she was impressed. The precision required for the computer to pluck them out of space like this was unreal.
And then she realized they were about to have a rough landing. “Uh... Davey.”
“Yeah I see it,” he said. “And I’m not happy about it.”
The airlock engulfed them and gravity hit, dropping them upside down to the floor. Grace lay on her back, head spinning and arms no longer hurting, but now starting to feel like overcooked noodles.
“Come on, sis,” Davey said. “We’ve got to find the cockpit and get out of here. If the Sparrow sees us and comes back to investigate, I’d rather not get blown up.”
“Or worse, let Whitaker’s ship blow up the Sparrow. I have a feeling it might defend itself.” That’s all it took for Davey to jump to his feet and frantically bang the airlock controls to let them into the main part of the ship. He disappeared as soon as it opened. She sighed and tossed her helmet aside and followed after him. As usual, they were in way over their head.
THE THREE REMAINING prisoners were dragged out of the cage, rather roughly this time, and thrown to the floor of the hold. Elizabeth winced as she hit the ground and cradled her knee. She bit her tongue to keep from making a sound. Avoid attention. So far, the terrorists were almost entirely ignoring her. It was probably best if they never realized that Matthew Cole’s mother was in their power. Whitaker was drawing most of their ire, and they recognized Yvonne as in charge when Matthew wasn’t around. Rather than being his mother, she was just a nameless old woman.
And that gave her power. They didn’t know that she was an excellent shot and had no qualms about fighting for those she cared about. If the opportunity arose, she would be the last person they considered a threat, a mistake that might prove deadly.
Yvonne wasn’t worried about any such anonymity. “Is this really necessary for two old women and a washed-up con artist?”
“Where are they?” Logan asked, his voice cold and soft. “I know they aren’t stupid enough to throw their lives away like that.”
“We told them not to go,” Yvonne said. “Why do you think we remained behind? And if you wanted them back, why did you sentence them to their death by burning the engines?”
He shook his head. “You care too much for them. If they were dead, you would be grieving. Not playing coy.”
Whitaker made a show of picking himself up into a sitting position. A quick glance was all Elizabeth needed to see that his shoulder had been dislocated again in the fall. She wasn’t looking forward to helping Yvonne put it back in its socket. He cleared his throat. “If you’re so certain, then where are they? You’re an awful lot of talk right now for someone that’s just murdered two kids in the middle of nowhere.”
Logan paced in front of them, hands folded behind his back. “Thanks to your little trick sabotaging the frameshift, we’re stuck waiting on a tug. I have men scouring the hull as we speak. They can’t have much air and will have to sneak back inside soon. And if there are any hidey-holes for them to disappear into, I suggest you tell us now. It may just save their lives and keep us from tearing the Sparrow apart while we wait on the tug.”
Yvonne shrugged and Elizabeth shook her head. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m new.”
Logan stopped in front of Whitaker and used the heel of his boot to push the man back to the ground. Despite her distrust of the man, Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel sympathy as he cried out and curled in on his shoulder. Logan didn’t give him a heartbeat to recover. “And what do you have to do with this? The one that always has wheels turning within wheels. What parlor trick did you use to spirit those two away?”
Between shallow breaths, Whitaker managed a response that was cryptic even for him. “I have the... Had the Helm of Hades. Not the Merkabah. Moses never worked the bugs out of that one, if Josiah Carver is to be completely trusted.” He shrugged. “I don’t, personally, but then I don’t think he lied about it either.”
Logan didn’t appear to be amused. “I’m not interested in mystical nonsense.”
“Neither am I, but Moses at least found such foolery to be a useful naming scheme for his toys. Alas, I don’t have the power to translate a pair of dumb kids out of your reach, and if I did, I promise you I would have sent you into the depths of space instead.”
“Make him regret that sharp tongue of his,” Logan said, turning away. “And find those kids!”
Elizabeth turned away as Whitaker was kicked savagely. Sharing a cell with a man that had caused so much pain to her son was disturbing, but no one deserved such dehumanizing treatment. When they were thrown unceremoniously back into their prison, he landed hard on the floor and didn’t even try to pick himself up.
She bit her lip and gently roused him. “Come on. Let’s get you onto the cot.”
He glared at her, which she ignored, and she helped him roll himself up onto the bed, where he curled into a ball, injured shoulder up. She looked over at Yvonne, who sighed.
“We have to reduce that shoulder,” she said softly.
“I’d rather die right now,” he said. “Thanks for the offer though.”
“I’m not offering euthanasia,” Yvonne said. “Matthew would disapprove.”
After a long moment of silence, he sat up and leaned against the wall. “This better have been worth it.”
“They’ll come through. You’ll see.” She gave Elizabeth an apologetic look. “I may need your help with this.”
That’s what she had been afraid of. She grimaced and rolled up her sleeves.
BY THE TIME GRACE CAUGHT up to Davey, he had already made it to the cockpit. Her jaw dropped as her eyes fell on the state-of-the-art consoles. “Flippin’ shiny. I never knew the Sparrow was such a piece of junk.”
Davey frowned at her and then went back to the main console. “It’s not junk. It’s just an older and much sought-after classic. And technically, this is an even older model, closer to how they built them in Moses’ day. They’re too expensive to build these days.”
She slid into the seat behind him and to the right. Rather than a single copilot’s chair, there were two behind and to the side. “Since when are you an expert on ship models?”
He shrugged. “Benny’s right. The Venus Circuit is really cool when you get into it. I’ve got the Sparrow on scopes. They’re still running hot and moving away. In a few minutes, we’ll be able to fire up the engines without risking them spotting our heat signature.”
Grace swiveled her chair to her console and pulled up navigation on one screen and the scopes on the other. This was so much cooler than the Sparrow. “Well first, let’s figure out where we are and where the Sparrow is likely heading.” The navigational chart populated, and the answer was immediately obvious. “Just over a day out from Mars,” she said. “Unless they’re stopping briefly and moving on, there’s no doubt. Convenient, since Matthew and Abigail will be waiting for them.”
“Without a ship,” Davey said thoughtfully. “But at least they’re on the right planet.” He facepalmed. “There’s just one problem. I don’t know his comm number.”
“Yeah, we might have an issue there.” Matthew had been pestering them both to memorize his number for some time, but neither had ever gotten around to it. Spending the effort to memorize a thirty-two-digit number-letter sequence had hardly seemed like fun.
“And we’ll even deserve the lecture
this time. Okay, plan B. Whitaker has to have it in the computer somewhere. Let’s see. Communications. There we go.”
She turned to look over his shoulder as he tapped through a few screens. A promising solution turned into disappointment in only a few seconds. The equipment all seemed good, but the address book showed empty. “What’s with that?”
He hefted the cylinder that Whitaker had given him. “Security, I bet. This thing acts as a beacon that lets the Doubt follow along, and even acts as a passkey to some extent. But it won’t get us into Whitaker’s personal files or contacts.”
“That’s a stinker. I bet we could find all sorts of juicy information on that creep.” Which gave her another idea now that she stopped to think. It would have to wait until they actually had a plan. “What about heading to Mars and just tracking them down?”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
Okay, good point. Mars was a planet, and even one of the colonies would take them forever to search. She looked at the navigational chart again. They could always return to Antioch, but that would waste days of time, and the Sparrow would probably beat them to Mars. Who else did they know that they could get to quickly enough to make a difference? The answer hit her like a meteor strike. “Gebre’elwa.”
“What about her?”
“Her home base. It’s on an asteroid that shares Mars’ orbit, right? I know I heard Yvonne talking about it.”
“That would cover all our problems,” he admitted, coming over to her display. He gestured at the empty space behind Mars. “It used to be a pirate base, so it’s not on the public registries.”
“Could we just go look for it?” she asked. “Start at Mars and work back half a million kilometers at a time.”
“Sounds tedious.”
“I’m waiting for a better idea.”
He shook his head. “Let’s go to Mars.” He went back to his station and prepped the Doubt for the trip.
“And you really know how to fly this thing?” she teased.
After Moses: Wormwood Page 39