by M. R. Forbes
They needed it, and they needed it now.
10
Steven didn't wait for Mitchell to come back. He knew his little brother well enough to know that Mitch would still tell him he couldn't go, and he would do something stupid to stop him if he insisted.
No, if he was going to defy orders yet again, he was going to have to do it quietly.
He went back to Tio's hidden armory before he headed out, quickly going through it and taking a pair of sidearms and extra magazines for both, grabbing as much as he could carry without it being obvious. Then he walked out of Tio's home, taking a detour off to a darker part of the open space just in case Mitchell chose that moment to return. He considered his plan as he did.
He would need to get to the dock without anyone noticing, and find a ship there that would be suitable for the journey. He had no intention of robbing Mitchell of a starship that could aid him in a fight. He would have to find something else, like a true trawler or miner or something, one that was poorly prepared for a fight yet jump capable. Then he would have to convince the dock operator to release the clamps. That shouldn't be too hard.
At that point, he would make the jump out to the coordinates. If there were something there that he could take, he would. If there were nothing, he would turn around and come back. He would have to hope that Mitchell decided to leave him some indication of where they might be going, and that the Tetron either hadn't returned to Asimov or had come and gone again.
If Mitchell didn't leave him directions and Asimov was still there, he would return to the station and try to figure out where his brother had gone. Failing in that, he would wait there for Mitchell to return to claim the prize.
What if Asimov was gone? He tried not to think about that possibility. No directions, no station? Whether he was carrying anything or not, that result could be disastrous. He decided he would wait it out in the ship he stole. If he ran out of food before Mitchell came back or if Mitchell never came back, so be it.
At least he would have tried.
He took an alternate route back to the quarters he and his crew had been given on their arrival. He felt a pang of regret and failure at the fact that he was going to be abandoning them, and at the same time he knew that his willingness to leave them meant he was resolved. Besides, John was a good man and a good First Mate. He would take care of the Carver for him.
He made it to his room without incident, dropping the weapons he had taken on the bed and quickly shedding the uniform he had worn to Millie's memorial. He stepped through the sonic to have the grime removed and then changed into the Navy fatigues he had brought with him. Nobody would question his decision to get more comfortable before he continued with his work.
He also grabbed his duffel, throwing the guns and magazines in it, along with a pair of grays to cover them if he had to open the duffel for any reason. Finally, he went back into the bathroom and shaved off his beard.
He stood and stared at himself in the mirror. He barely recognized himself without the growth around his mouth and hanging from his chin. He looked younger, but also less dignified. He laughed at himself.
"I look like an uglier, balder, older version of Mitch," he said.
He gave himself one last look, staring into his own eyes.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked himself.
He nodded. He was. He turned away from the mirror, grabbing the duffel from the bed and heading out the door. He made his way through the hallways and out to the front of the building.
Captain Rock was going in as he was going out.
"Admiral," John said.
"John," Steven replied. "Going to crash for the few hours until morning?"
John smiled. "I figured an hour or two of sleep never hurt anyone." He tilted his head, staring at Steven. "You shaved your beard."
Steven rubbed his hand against his bare chin. It still felt strange. "Yeah."
"Why? It took you months to grow that thing."
"It just seemed like the right thing to do. It'll grow back. Anyway, I'm headed back to Tio's to continue the work I was doing with Mitch. Enjoy the shut-eye."
John continued to stare at him. Steven could feel his heart rate going up. His best friend knew there was something off about him.
"Yeah, okay," John said. "Well, goodnight, sir."
Steven swallowed heavily, feeling the tension building as John ducked his head and started making his way past him. He hated lying in general. Lying to his friend was even harder.
"Damn it, John," he said, reaching out and grabbing his Captain's arm. He moved in close, speaking quietly. "I'm leaving Asimov."
"What?" John said, a little too loud. He repeated it in a whisper. "What?"
"Mitchell told me that he got something in the Construct. Coordinates to something that Origin thought would help us. I offered to go and check it out, and he said no."
"And you're going anyway?" John asked.
"He doesn't want us to split up. He's right that he needs to get ahead of Watson, but he's wrong to think that I need to go with him. I don't want him to screw humanity because of it."
"And you were going to, what? Hop into a transport and ride off in the Carver?"
"Don't be stupid. I was hoping there would be a less valuable ship I could take."
"He won't let you leave."
"Which is why I'm trying to leave quietly. He needs this. He just doesn't know it yet."
"Are you sure it's him that needs this?"
"What does that mean?"
"Just that I know you, Steve. You hate sitting and waiting for things to happen. Add to that the fact that your family is in harm's way, and there you go."
"Okay, I need this too. I can't stand the idea of human civilization ending because we didn't make a hyperspace jump."
"How far out is it?"
"Three weeks."
"Shit, Steve. That's far."
"I know, I know."
"Mitch won't be here by the time you get back. Heck, Asimov probably won't be here."
"I know that, too. It's a risk, but at least I'm only risking myself and a single ship."
John shook his head. "No. You aren't just risking yourself. I'm coming with you."
"No. John, you can't. I need you to command the Carver."
"Lewis can handle the Carver."
"I want it to be you. I also don't want to be responsible for you dying. You have someone back home, too."
"Who is just as in harms way as Laura and Terry. I'm coming."
"No. That's an order."
"Take your orders and shove them, Steve. You know rank doesn't play here."
Steven stared at his friend. He knew John would never let him go alone. He also knew in the back of his mind that was why he had told him.
"Fine. Grab your gear and meet me at the docks in ten minutes."
"Yes, sir," John said. "You promise you won't leave without me?"
Steven spread his hands in submission. "I promise. You're a good friend, John."
"I know it. I'll see you there."
11
The docks were busier than Steven had expected. The evacuation of Asimov was well underway, with ships arranged along the main hub such that they could be maneuvered into position against the loading bays when it was their turn. A large trawler was already attached to the primary loading area while a dropship was hooked to the secondary. Dozens of Tio's people moved through the space with purpose, leaving him barely noticed in the chaos.
He leaned against the wall, trying to remain as inconspicuous as someone who was just standing there could be. He held his duffel slung over his shoulder, casting his eyes back and forth, making it obvious he was waiting for something.
"Sorry," John said, materializing out of a group of techs. He was surprisingly capable of blending in despite his heavyset appearance and the Navy fatigues he was wearing. "I ran into Lewis on the way down."
"Did you say anything?"
"About this? No, but the story I
made up for what I was doing was lame."
"Let's hope he doesn't tell anyone. Come on."
They walked the length of the corridor towards the control station. It would be a good vantage point to use to find a suitable ship.
Then all they would have to do was steal it.
"Are you sure you're sure about this?" John whispered.
"Do you have a better idea? You know Mitch won't listen."
"You're his big brother. I think you could convince him."
"Do you want to risk Bill's life on it?"
"Fine, but look at this place. They've got over forty ships crammed into a space that was meant to hold thirty-six at most, and there are people everywhere. How are we going to sneak out?"
Steven shrugged. "I don't know yet. We have to take it one step at a time."
"Great plan, Admiral."
They reached the entrance to the control station. It slid aside at their approach, the security systems all shut down to provide easier access during the evacuation. There were three people in the room, each wearing headsets and communicating with the captains of the various ships. One of them, a short woman with long gray hair, turned around when they entered.
"Did you come to relieve me?" she asked. "It's been fourteen hours."
That was a long time to be guiding this kind of traffic.
"No. Sorry," Steven said, moving past her to look out at the ships. Only the smaller vessels would even fit in here, which meant there were only a few that were jump capable in the mix.
"Then what are you doing here?" the woman asked.
Steven froze, trying to think of a good excuse.
"Selecting ships for inspection," John said, saving him. "Colonel Williams asked us to make sure the cargo bays were being loaded efficiently."
"Oh. Do you think you could ask the Colonel to find someone to replace us and give us a break? We're dead on our feet."
Steven nodded. "I'll mention it to him when I make my report. It will probably be at least another hour, though."
She didn't look happy about that, but she nodded and turned back around, hitting a button. "This is Control."
Steven scanned the docking arms, positioned in rows and columns around them. There were a lot of ships in the space, and they were almost uniformly old and worn, with dented metal plating and scorch marks suggesting their more illicit use.
"What about that one?" John said, pointing at one of the most beat-up ships in the dock. It was also one of the largest with hyperspace engines.
"No," Steven replied without offering any further reason.
"That one?" John offered a jumpship. It was small, but it was also one of only three the fleet possessed.
"They might need it."
John sighed. "There are only two others on the docks right now."
Steven checked them both, his heart sinking. He should have guessed his best intentions would be stymied by a lack of resources. No. He wouldn't allow the to happen.
"Yeah, you're right. The jumpship."
John nodded, and they began retreating from the room.
"Don't forget about us," the gray-haired woman said as they left.
Now came the hardest part. Steven could feel his heart beating harder with every step they took, his resolve starting to crack a little. He knew what came next, and he didn't like it, even if it did need to be done.
"Having second thoughts?" John asked while they made their way down to the jumpship's docking arm.
"No. I just don't like this part."
"Well try to not like it a little less, because we're getting looks."
Steven noticed the people around them, their eyes glancing his way as they passed. He had always been guilty of wearing his heart on his sleeve. It was survivable on the bridge of a starship where only your officers would see it. It was going to get them caught if he didn't do something about it now.
He pictured Admiral Hohn in his mind, working to mimic the man's near-constant outward calm. It wasn't about removing the fear; it was about hiding it.
"Better," John said.
Steven wondered how his friend was staying so cool under the pressure.
They reached the hatch to the docking arm. It slid open ahead of them, leaving them along in the long cylinder of clear carbonate and metal flooring that stretched hundreds of meters out into empty space. Steven shifted the duffel to his chest, unzipping it slowly as they walked. The ship was tenth in line for loading, which meant it should be unoccupied.
He found the gun in his bag, taking it in his hand and moving it behind the duffel. If it weren't clear, he would have to hijack it and hope whoever was inside didn't fight back. That was the thing that scared him the most. He didn't want to hurt anybody.
"I can take it if you want," John offered.
"Here," Steven said, handing John the other gun. "You might need one too."
They reached the airlock. It was open, and when Steven looked in he didn't see any sign of occupants.
"We'll sweep it quick to make sure it's empty, and then we'll go," he said.
"Roger."
They entered the ship. John moved to the right toward the rear of the ship while Steven turned left and headed forward to the cockpit. The ship was silent; its engines powered down and most of the electronics off.
He paused a few times, listening for John, as he was sure his friend was listening for him as well. He stopped one last time before he made it to the hatch of the cockpit, making sure that John hadn't stumbled into trouble. When he didn't hear anything, he reached forward and hit the panel to open the hatch.
He stepped in. His heart was racing, his hand tight and clammy on the gun. If there were going to be anyone on the ship, they would likely be here, waiting for confirmation to move into position for loading.
"Admiral Williams?" Germaine said, swiveling in his seat at the sight of Steven.
Steven's eyes grew wide, and he raised the gun from behind the duffel. He had been so damn close.
"Put your hands up," he said, his whole body shaking.
"What are you doing?" Germaine asked. "Are you a Tetron?" He didn't look concerned about the pistol aimed at his face.
"I need the ship."
"Why don't you just ask Mitchell for one? I'm sure he'd let you borrow it."
Germaine wasn't taking his threat seriously. Then again, why would he? He doubted he looked much like a threat either.
"I already asked him," he said, lowering the weapon. "He said no."
"Why?"
"I need to jump to unexplored space to check something out. It's going to split us up in a bad way."
"Check something out? Are you sure you aren't a Tetron?"
"Do I look like a Tetron?"
Germaine laughed. "Everyone looks like a Tetron. You aren't acting like one, though. You're acting like yourself."
"What does that mean?"
"I spent a couple of weeks in the cockpit of the Avalon with your brother. He told me stories. All I kept hearing about is how nice you are, how upstanding and successful and settled. You can't even keep the gun on me. He's jealous of you, you know."
That took Steven off guard. "He is?"
"Yup. No joke. So what about this something in unexplored space? Clearly, Mitch doesn't want you to go, and you think you should. Considering that you're such a nice guy and yet you're willing to try to steal a jumpship, there has to be a good reason for it."
"Origin gave Mitchell the coordinates on Hell."
"You mean the Construct?"
Steven nodded.
"And he doesn't want to go?"
"He wants to go, but not yet. He wants to stop Watson first."
Germaine laughed again. "I get it."
The conversation paused as they heard boots moving towards them. Not one pair like Steven expected. There were at least two people coming.
John appeared a moment later, a bruise next to his eye and an apologetic look on his face. Cormac followed behind him, holding the gun Steven had
given John to John's back.
"What the frig is going on here?" Cormac asked.
His voice had a strange, echoing lisp to it, caused by the half-mask he had over the destroyed side of his face. It was made of a solid black carbonate and looked to be screwed into his skull to hold it on.
"Cormac?" Steven said.
"Yeah, I know," the grunt replied, running his hand over the mask. "Diggs made it for me. Simple, yet sophisticated. He said he would work on the laser for the eye."
"Sorry, Steve. He caught me off-guard."
"I was standing right next to the bloody fool," Cormac said. "He nearly got himself killed. What are you doing here, Admiral?"
"Stealing the ship," Germaine said, still laughing at the whole thing.
"You're doing a bang-up job, sir," Cormac said.
Steven shrugged. "From what I gather, this is more your kind of mission."
"Riiigg-ahh," Cormac said. "Yes, sir. Why are we stealing a starship?"
"To help Mitchell," John said.
"Without Mitchell knowing," Steven said.
Cormac did his best to smile. "Now that's something I can get behind."
"You don't want to take the Corleone," Germaine said. "We only have three jumpships in the fleet, and this is the only one with a mech drop module."
"It was the best I could spot from Control," Steven said. "What were you two doing in here, anyway?"
"I told you; this is the only jumpship with a mech drop module. If you took this one, you might have left us with no ship to go planetside if we need to bring the heavy guns. I was inspecting the flying parts, and Cormac was in the back inspecting the explosive parts. Qualified hands are tight, and we all need to do our part. Anyway, don't sweat it, Admiral. I've got the ship for you. We can head on over and be out of here before anyone knows we're missing."
Steven was confused. "We?"
"Hell, yes, Admiral," Germaine said. "Mitchell's my friend, and if he's doing something stupid, it's my responsibility to make it less stupid."
"You think he's making the wrong call?"
"I don't know, but you're his brother and an Admiral. That makes you way smarter than I am. If you think he is, I trust you."
"You ain't leaving without me," Cormac said. "Let me just grab my grenades from the back."