by Cheri Lasota
“We're going in there?”
“Yes, this sector of the ship was remodeled a year ago, but this shaft, what is essentially an older crawl space to access the central maintenance chute, was abandoned and likely forgotten about by the Founders. I only remember it because my Reachers had a devil of a time repairing portions of it due to an accident involving a wrench that I won't get into.”
“Ah,” Dextra said, clearly uninterested in the details. “Well, as long as you know where we're going.”
“Long story short, it will eventually connect us to the central maintenance corridor that will take us one step closer to the Cav Compartment. I'm going to try contacting Tavian again. Hold on.”
“UI, NEW MESSAGE TO TAVIAN HUNT: WHAT'S YOUR STATUS AND LOCATION?”
He finished with the panel and removed it, tucking his hex key back into his pocket for later use.
“Actually go ahead and lock us in with that code, Dextra. I won't be able to close up this access panel from the inside. Hopefully, no one will try to get in here within the next hour.”
“All right.”
Solomon saw a message pop up in his HUD. “Hang on. Tavian finally responded.”
“Did they detain him?” Dextra asked.
“Ui, check messages.” Solomon's muscles tensed as he read.
IN CAV ROOM. 5 FOUNDERS TAKING A SHORT BREAK FROM ROUGHING ME UP. IF YOU DON'T WANT THIS PERFECT FACE LOOKING LIKE ROADKILL, YOU BETTER SPRING ME OUTTA HERE.
“Damn,” Solomon whispered under his breath, his hand twitching again. “They've detained him, but he's still in the Cav Room.”
“UI REPLY: DISTRACT COMMAND AND GET THEM OUT OF CAV WITHIN THE HOUR. ON MY WAY.”
Tavian replied immediately. Dextra leaned over to read the message on Solomon's wrist UiComm.
YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?
“UI REPLY: IF YOU WANT TO LIVE, I RECOMMEND IT.”
SURE, PLAY THE “IF YOU WANT TO LIVE” CARD. TYPICAL BOSS.
“UI REPLY: SMIRK.”
“This Tavian Hunt is rather a charming fellow,” Dextra said in a posh English accent, her smile distracting him from the fact that he was about to face five Founder crew before the hour was up.
“He better be as smart as I'm paying him to be,” Solomon muttered.
“Well, you hired him.”
“Actually, Vida did.”
“Maybe you should mention that the fate of the world is on his shoulders.”
“Tavian's the type who does better when he's relaxed . . . or amused.”
“And what type are you, Solomon?”
“Hmm . . . a workaholic.”
She wrinkled her nose and smiled. “I noticed.”
“I suspect you are as well.”
“Touché.”
“All right, next leg of the journey is down the rabbit hole.”
“Flashlight?” she asked.
“Ah, yes. We'll need it through this abandoned section here.” He thought for a moment and eventually found a small one after rummaging around in the desk's bottom drawer. “Keep in mind that most of these shafts—but not all—are built to hold the weight of a man for repair purposes. So follow my lead and go where I go. But just to be on the safe side, stay at least five feet behind me to distribute the weight more evenly. The last thing we need is to bust something in here.”
“Comforting,” Dextra said, pulling out her best deadpan.
He slipped the flashlight into his mouth and dove headlong into the tubular maintenance shaft, mumbling to her to follow quietly. As they moved through the cool tube filled with various lines of electrical conduit, he flipped through the engineering drawings for this sector in his mind, trying to keep his bearings straight. He eventually found access hatch FH3, which he knew would lead out into the Central Deck 7 Corridor, which was essentially one long gangway down the center of the Engineering Sector for the sole purpose of providing maintenance access for his workers. Once there, they'd head a bit further aft and down toward the maintenance compartment just below the Cav.
The opening lay just ahead. He could see the gaping hole and the corridor beyond. He came out into the gangway and straightened to a standing position. No one in either direction. Good. No hassle. Exactly what he was hoping for.
“I had no idea this was all back here,” Dextra said, as he took her hand and helped her to rise out of the shaft.
“We've come to the central maintenance corridor,” he said, pointing to the larger rows of conduit as they ran along the corridor's bulkheads. “It branches off into various other compartments.”
“You know where we're going?”
“Let's hope so.” He smiled.
“Yes, let's.”
They walked for several minutes in silence, as he led her further into the bowels of the ship. Eventually, he turned them toward a starboard branch where they crawled through another shaft that led to the corridor he was looking for.
“Once we're out, head straight for the compartment directly across the corridor. Code is six-four-nine-five. Don't forget. And if someone comes, just act normally. Remember, no one is looking for you.”
“So you say.”
“Well, at least you're not as valuable.”
She raised her eyebrows and mock-scowled. “Oh, really?”
Solomon bit his lip. “That might have come out wrong.”
“Uh huh.”
“Mea culpa. Would it help if I saved your life today?”
“It might. But don't count on it.”
“Hmm . . .”
She was playing hardball. He liked it. And he felt like kissing her again.
“Listening one more time.” He pressed his ear to the panel. Still nothing.
“We're good. Now go.”
He popped the panel out, and it clattered to the ground. Dextra scowled at him. He motioned her across the corridor, which was, thankfully, empty.
She rushed to the other side to punch in the numbers on the compartment's codebox. Voices forward of their position were faint but approaching fast. He moved quickly to key in the top left fastener. Leaving it open would look too suspicious.
“Solomon!” Dextra whispered harshly.
“Keep the slider open,” he whispered back as he kept on with the hex key. The people were getting closer. They'd turn the corner at any moment. He just needed the one fastener in to keep it flush with the wall. Damn. He got it to the point where it would stay up, but the fastener was sticking out quite a ways. He'd have to risk it. They were too close.
He brushed past the panel but the hex key hit one of the grills of the panel and fell out of his hand. The people were turning the corner just as he slipped into the compartment. He didn't know if they saw him or not. But it was so fast they could hardly have identified him. He was certain they were Founders as he saw a flash of their blue uniforms.
He disabled the slider with his override code, and then pressed his ear to it to try and pick up any of their talk.
“What's that?” a woman asked.
“Looks like a hex key,” a man replied.
“What do you make of this? Looks like someone was repairing this panel.”
“And they just left right in the middle of it?”
“Probably got called away when the alarm sounded about Solomon Reach.”
“Do you think they'll ever find him?”
“Of course. Just a matter of time . . .”
“Where do you think Reach is?”
“Since I don't know what he's after or what his plan is, it's hard to tell.”
“Simple: he wants to kill the Founders and take over the ship. Nothing else makes sense . . .”
The voices began to fade away aft, and Solomon couldn't hear anymore. So it seemed that word of the disabled Cav Drive hadn't spread far. He supposed that was a good thing. He didn't want his Reacher crew to catch wind of Challenge Command's betrayal. If they did, they might do something rash, like rising up in mutiny as Command had originally feared. He wouldn't put it past
his crew. They were a loyal bunch, and they valued their lives as much as the next guys. As Dextra would say, it was in their nature after all.
He tried not to be disturbed by the fact that Founders aboard this ship would immediately think he'd want them dead. But then again, they wanted him dead, so they would likely assume he was just as cold-blooded.
“They've headed on.”
“Where to now?” she asked.
“Now we hitch a ride through another shaft that will lead us directly to the compartment underneath the Cav.”
“Do you still need the key?”
“Yes, but I'd need to get it so we can cover our tracks anyway.”
He disabled the door after checking for people in the corridor. When he reached out to grab the hex key, the slider next to the maintenance compartment where they were hiding opened suddenly.
“Ha ha!” said a man who was entering the corridor. “You've got nothing on me—wait, what?”
Solomon looked up to see two of his Reacher crewmen staring at him, eyes wide. It was Jonesy and Baern, both engineers in the Operations Sector.
“Hey guys.”
“Boss.” Jones touched his aviator cap out of amused respect and nodded, even though his eyebrows were still raised.
Baern stared warily at him. “Sir, I suspect you're well aware Command put out a call for you. How should we—”
“Respond?” Solomon answered, starting in on re-securing the panel.
Baern nodded.
“I'll give you the short version, and then you can decide.”
He explained the gist of it in approximately 60 seconds.
“How can we help?” was Baern's immediate reply.
“Can you find out whether there are any Founders in the Cav Room currently? If there are, can you call them away? Maybe say that Challenge Command wanted to get a status on the Cav Drive as well as an ETA of when it will be fixed? That should alleviate any suspicions on their part as well as reduce the number of people we have to deal with.”
“Yeah, sure, boss,” Jones said.
“We're heading that way and will be there shortly,” Solomon said.
“Via the port or starboard corridor? We'll lead them in the opposite direction,” Baern asked.
“It's best I don't tell you in case you are questioned. Once you complete this task, I want you to muster with the rest of the Reachers on Watch Deck 16.”
“Got it. We'll get going.” Baern slapped Jonesy on the back and the two headed off.
“Hey boss,” Jones said, glancing over his shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Solomon half-smiled. “I'll need it.”
“Your crew is incredibly loyal considering they received a direct order from their superiors to turn you in.”
“Well, now, superior is a subjective word, don't you agree?”
“Yes, agreed.”
“All right. Panel's closed up.”
Once prepped, they were on their way again, traversing corridors and sectors he knew by heart. He stopped at Maintenance Compartment 3J and got them in. This compartment was little more than a broom closet, but it would get them where they needed to go.
Once they made it through the panel, it wasn't long before they came to a junction around which a twenty-foot drop lay in wait. It was a tight fit in this section, so he maneuvered around so his feet were facing first. It was unbearably hot in this shaft, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“This is going to be the most difficult bit here,” Solomon said. “We're about to drop down twenty feet through this shaft so we can come out in the compartment just underneath the Cav. So you're going to need to shimmy your way down. But bear in mind, this shaft wasn't designed to take our weight, so be careful, eh?”
“Well, I don't know. You look pretty heavy.”
“There are a lot of things I could say at this moment, but intelligence dictates that I keep my mouth shut.”
“Good man. You're smarter than you look.”
“A backhanded complimented. I should always be so lucky.”
“You first, Chief.”
“Don't mind if I do.”
Solomon took his time, testing the shaft's sturdiness as he braced his hands and feet against it. Once down, he shined the flashlight up at Dextra.
“This doesn't look overly easy,” she said.
“Just keep a steady pace and push with your legs. We need to keep the noise down as much as possible. The sound will carry. And don't jump down at the end here. You'll dent the metal.”
“Heaven forbid.”
“You're standing in a work of art, I'll have you know, woman. A precision piece of ventilation.”
“Well, if you had designed it properly, you would have cooled the place down and left room for a woman's bust.”
“Ah. I'll give that some thought in my next redesign.”
She thumped into the shaft just behind Solomon, ending up nose to nose with him.
“Is it wrong to point out that from this vantage point I have an excellent view of the proceedings?” Solomon asked, failing utterly in his attempt not to peer down at her cleavage, which was spilling out from her partially unzipped uniform.
“Yes, I do believe it is.”
“Ah, well. I probably should read up on the Nautilus Code of Conduct.”
“You're such an engineer.”
“Guilty.”
“I think it likely we both need to brush up on protocol before my mother gets on to us,” she said, eyes mischievous in the flashlight's glare. “Something tells me she would not approve of this particular excursion.”
“We'll turn ourselves in for protocol violations after we save the world,” Solomon magnanimously offered.
“Good plan.”
“Just a few feet more, and we'll be in the maintenance compartment just under the Cav.”
Solomon shimmied backward a few more feet, gave Dextra the flashlight and started working on the fasteners.
“Sounds loud up there,” Dextra said.
“Yes, that will work in our favor. Should mask any noises we make as we come up through the floor of the Cav Compartment.”
He pushed the panel out and lifted himself into the blinding light of the maintenance compartment directly below the Cav Room. He turned to take Dextra by the hand and pulled her out too.
“You all right? None the worse for wear?”
“Yes, I survived your rabbit hole after all, Chief Reach.”
“Excellent. Take a look up there.” Solomon pointed toward the panel above a block of machines that made up part of the ship's power systems.
“That's where we're headed? Ever hear of a door? How do you propose we reach it?”
Solomon glanced around the compartment at what was to hand. “Hold tight and I'll have an answer for you.” He pulled over a supply cart and flipped the stopper to lock it in place.
“Ready to save the day?”
“Right.”
“Have no fear. I'm a professional.”
“You know, I'm pretty sure this wasn't in my job description.”
“I'm pretty sure saving the world wasn't in mine.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Actually, it was, Solomon.”
He snorted at that. “Not really. When I took over Reach Corp back when my father passed away, I had one objective: make a lot of money in the aerospace industry so I could go on spacewalks.”
Dextra actually laughed at that. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. It all started with a dream. Vida's not the only one who likes a good jaunt out in the great black vacuum.”
“I suppose that's the first dream for anyone who studies enough to get top marks in their astrophysics classes.”
“I just had a gift for astronomy and aerospace engineering. My father kept placing me in fast-track programs to groom me into taking over Reach Corp. I wasn't too keen, but then Mads Graversen found me and dragged me back up to space.”
&nbs
p; “What?” By the look on her face, she was genuinely shocked. “What do you mean? I thought you met him on the Solix Sky like the rest of us.”
“Oh, no. It was back at MIT.”
“That asshole was your classmate?”
Solomon's smile was grim. “He was my professor.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, he got me into this mess in more ways than one.”
“I saw the look in his eyes when Edge was torturing you,” Dextra said, her voice softening. “No emotion at all.”
“Yes, well . . .” Solomon's hand smarted at the memory of it, but he was thankful the majority of his pain had subsided with the healing thrombin bandage. “Mads was always a complicated man. And yes, an asshole too.”
She tilted her head and studied him, then. “I—”
Solomon stopped her with a touch on her arm. Voices resounded overhead. He motioned for her to stand back.
“You'd best stay down here unless you have considerable skill in hand-to-hand combat,” he said in a low voice.
“Not usually a useful skill in space,” she said, and her wary glance at the ceiling was a sobering reminder to him that she was under his protection too.
“Definitely stay here, then. Likely this will be over quickly.”
“Mr. Hunt, I'm not going to ask you again,” a muffled voice said from above, “where is Solomon Reach?”
“As I mentioned the previous fifty times your underlings asked me,” Tavian responded, “he's not here, and I don't know where he is.”
Dextra heard too. She gave Solomon a “now what?” look.
Frankly, he had no idea. He wondered where Jonesy and Baern were. Had they come and gone? He wished he could see what was happening. It would help to know how many people were in the compartment and where they were located in relation to the panel.
No matter what, he was going to have to get into the Cav Room, so he didn't delay further.
Solomon glanced at Dextra. “No matter what you hear, if you find yourself in danger, just head out the slider door and find the first Founder you see. No sense in you getting hurt.”
Dextra nodded, but he could tell his sensible advice was falling on deaf ears. Admirable and maddening woman!
Solomon hoisted himself up on the cart, and then rolled onto the whirring systems machines. As he settled onto his back to key the fasteners, he listened to the quiet sounds of pacing and the occasional throat clearing or murmuring of the others in the compartment above. He figured that there might be as many as four people in there: Tavian, the interrogator, and maybe two others. Those other two voices seemed further away from where he lay.