by M. D. Cooper
“Try to talk,” Kylie urged. “Please.”
The woman grabbed Kylie’s hair and pulled her down close. Her ear hovered just above the dying woman’s lips, her words were hushed and came out in a soft rush of air. But Kylie heard. She understood.
“We see you, Kylie Rhoads.”
Kylie twisted and stared into the woman’s eyes, seeing clarity, peacefulness, and hope, but for what? The assassin’s hand relaxed as it let go of Kylie’s hair and fell to the rocks beside them. She was gone.
Dead.
And Kylie’s answers had just died with her. She sat beside the fallen woman, gazing across the way, desperate to process everything that had just happened, everything that had just been said. There were no logical answers. This woman was dead. And for what?
Well that just tears it, Kylie thought as she picked herself up and hobbled down the tunnel. Time to get moving. Nothing like climbing a few kilometers via ladder. The sooner she got started, the faster it would be over with.
She limped her way to the shaft, and closed the hatch behind her, seeing the air pressure gauge on her HUD begin to climb once more.
“That’s at least something,” she said aloud and it echoed in the small tube.
Kylie gripped one of the overhead rungs, the metal ladder cold in her hand. Time to do this, she gazed up the tall shaft that extended further than she could see.
Gritting her teeth, she started to climb, the searing pain in her right arm a constant reminder of the broken bone within, the pain in her leg, her ribs…. She was going to feel this all the way up.
THE HOLE
STELLAR DATE: 11.05.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Chimin City, Level 32
REGION: Chimin-1, Hanoi System (independent)
Rogers and Bubbs rushed down the corridor, took a left, and ran toward the west side of the Chimin-1 installation. They pushed through the crowd of people gathered before them, forcing their way through to get to the lift.
Or rather, this was where the lift should’ve been.
Instead, a gaping hole in the deck dropped down into darkness. Twisted steel and warped plas hung over the gap, and several people were clinging to girders hanging out over the void.
“Quick, Bubbs!” Rogers called out and held onto her gun barrel while leaning over the chasm to grab onto a woman and pull her to safety.
Once on solid-ish ground, the woman wrapped her arms around him.
“Thank you, thank you!” she cried, and Rogers patted her back while staring up at a pair of legs dangling at least two levels up. He could make out more people on other levels and wondered how many people had already fallen to their deaths.
What the hell had happened here? A lift crash wouldn’t have caused this. Someone had to have sabotaged it…and then some. Someone would have to have a prime target in mind to pull this off.
A pair of nurses rushed by, and he realized they weren’t far from the hospital—where Kylie had been.
Bubbs helped pull two more people from the gaping shaft and her eyes made contact with Rogers’, concern passing between them—a moment before a man wrapped her in a shaking embrace.
Bubbs held her arms up, as if under arrest and glanced around with pursed lips.
Bubbs patted the man’s shoulder, looking more robotic than anything. The miners who had come to the precinct rushed around the corner, and Rogers turned to them. “Get everyone back, we need to cordon this thing off. If you have friends, get them to each level, people need help.”
A female in a helmet nodded, her yellow jumpsuit dirtied with rock dust. “Then what?”
“You tell me, you work rock. What kind of damage are we looking at?”
The woman shook her head as she approached and peered down the shaft. “Shit…this is the one that went down to 317. The oldies—the people who first hollowed out this rock—they went too deep there. The skin is only a few meters thick in places. Like an egg shell.”
An older man in the back nodded. “This’ll take Jim’s crew to fix up. They’ve got experience patching rocks back together.”
“Jim’s crew? Where are they?” Rogers asked.
“On Chimin-5; they were setting up some deep shafts to work some rare ore. Haven’t heard from them in a few days, though. Comm tower on Chimin-5 has always been flakey.”
Rogers swore, Chimin-5 was almost clear across the Chimin Group. With the Barbaric Queen tucked in the docks and the reactors cold, it would take half an hour at best to get her into the black. Even worse, the bay was so small that they couldn’t get the shuttle or pinnaces out.
“Do you have a ship to get over there fast?” Rogers asked.
“Crew shuttles are all off station right now,” the woman said. “Just took teams out earlier in the day for new shifts on the other rocks. Only two ships on Chimin right now are yours and the Winthrop.
“Crap.” Rogers shook his head. The Winthrop wasn’t going anywhere.
“What if those aren’t options, is there any other way to get over there?”
“Could take the shotgun,” one of the other miners suggested.
“Shotgun?” Rogers asked. “That doesn’t sound safe.”
The woman snickered. “It’s not. That’s why we use shuttles. But it’s fast, and you’ll get there in twenty minutes, tops.”
The woman passed Rogers the location of the shotgun, and he gave a resigned sigh. He’d heard of things like that. Never thought he’d ride in one, though.
“OK. Get to work. We need to make sure this place is safe.” Rogers had turned and gazed at the wall, collecting his thoughts, when he noticed something wrong and walked toward it. He ran his hand along the beam that was twisted like soft serve ice cream. To the naked eye, the metal appeared smooth and unbroken, but after feeling the surface of the beam, Rogers could tell it was not.
His vision changed again, showing the world in the schematic view. He could see stress fractures on the beam, as well as along the stone wall. He peered down the corridor and saw that they ran in every direction, all angling down toward the shaft.
Bubbs approached. “Bad?”
“Bad,” Rogers agreed. “I still can’t reach the Captain either. You?”
Bubbs shook her head. “Nope.”
Damn. Rogers hated this. “We need to start a search, go level by level if we have to. I’ll send word to Ricket.”
“And my prisoners? What am I supposed to do about them?”
Rogers sighed. “They’re locked up. We’re going to have to hope that no one comes to break them out. If Chimin-1 falls, it’s all on our heads.”
Bubbs broke out into a light jog to c
atch up to him. “Guess you were right. We do need new recruits if we’re going to pull this off.”
For once, Rogers wished he hadn’t been right. He hated that this was the reason they needed more volunteers.
REJOINDER
STELLAR DATE: 11.05.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Unknown
REGION: Unknown, Hanoi System (independent)
The top of the tube within which Winter lay slid open. He gasped, finally feeling like he could breathe again. He reared up and twisted, trying to take stock of his surroundings, and saw movement as someone approached.
The light overhead shone bright, blocking out the face of Winter’s visitor. A wave of nausea washed over him, and he groaned, laying back down as someone gripped his shoulder.
“Mr. Winter. Finally stable enough for us to do what we’ve intended all along.”
The voice belonged to Chief Raynes, and Winter glowered at him. “You son of a bitch, Raynes. When I get out of this damn tube…”
“You won’t.” Raynes bent down low so Winter could see his smiling face. “But your life will bring great change. To the people of Hanoi, to the AI. You will be the ultimate weapon. Have you heard the story of a trojan horse, Mr. Winter?”
“I’ve heard nothing, but if you think I’m going to let you use me to hurt innocent people….” Winter couldn’t believe what a sap he sounded like, but it was true, wasn’t it? He’d never wanted to hurt regular people just getting along. Maybe once he’d wanted revenge, he wanted to steal and take from those who’d stepped on him—who stepped on regular folks.
“I won’t let you do it.” Winter fought against his restraints. “Kylie, my crew mates, they’ll come for me.”
“I’ll never get away with it?” Raynes laughed and jabbed something big through Winter’s abdominal cavity. A needle of such length, of such width, that Winter hollered in pain, his legs and arms going rigid.
Raynes slid the door of the tube shut again.
Anything but that, Winter thought, anything. “Raynes!”
“Cryostasis will keep you and the weapon safe for now. You won’t feel any pain, don’t worry. Enjoy your sleep. I have better things to do than keep a freak albino company.”
Winter tried to reach out to Kylie, the Barbaric Queen, anyone who would answer, but his Link wouldn’t connect to a network. He found a signal, but it denied him access. Winter was hitting various ports trying to make a connection when the cryostasis tube activated, and suddenly Winter felt like he was falling.
Falling through a deep black hole, back to places he didn’t want to be. People he didn’t want to remember.
SHOTGUN
STELLAR DATE: 11.05.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Chimin City, Level 19
REGION: Chimin-1, Hanoi System (independent)
The dingy bay outside of the shotgun platform had once been painted a light grey, though long ago a few leaking pipes had been left unattended and now streaks of rust ran down the walls.
Old red lockers stood against one wall, their paint faded and chipped away. Rogers pulled one open and found an EV suit nestled inside. He was still wearing his Mark X FlowArmor but decided that if people riding the shotgun normally wore EV suits, he’d add one to the mix as well.
He pulled the suit on and grabbed the helmet, checking the seals over before pulling on his gloves. While getting his fingers into the right holes, he paused and looked out a porthole into space
Though the other asteroids were close, they certainly weren’t within space-walking distance, or even near enough to jet over on a skiff. He could barely make out Chimin-5, which was visible only as a point of light drifting in the distance as Chimin-1 rotated on its axis.
He could see the end of the shotgun as well. The long tube protruding into space, anchored into place by long cables. A crazy ride out to another one of these crazy rocks, on the hope that they could find someone to help them save these people’s home.
As he was staring out into the vast expanse of space, he heard a noise behind him and from the pleasant scent, knew it was Ricket. “Don’t turn around,” Ricket said, her voice sounding breathy to Rogers. “I’m changing.”
“You are not,” he said, though he complied and didn’t turn around. “Unless you made your flow armor transparent.”
“Touche…I think I’ve had this stuff on for two days now. I wonder if that’s safe. How’s everything going with you?”
“Oh, you know, everything’s smooth as silk except for the missing crew members and the dangerous compound that Raynes is running around with. Oh, and the fact that Chimin-1 is going to fall apart around us.”
Rogers listened to her zip up her EV suit and then turned around slowly as Ricket shook her hair out. “I told you not to turn around.”
“I could hear you were done. Besides, I can see the blue of your armor peeking out of your collar. Your modesty is safe with me.”
Ricket smirked as he stepped up closer. “You and your super hearing. You’re turning into a cat.”
A cat? Well, that wasn’t very sexy. “Not Mr. Fizzle Pops, I hope.”
Ricket giggled, the picture of sexy mixed with adorable. It made Rogers want to reach out and brush the hair off her brow.
“It’s a zipper,” he said to distract himself. “Everyone knows what a zipper sounds like. I could give you a demonstration, if you want.” He placed his fingers on top of her zipper, just at her neck.
She smiled warmly. “Are we going to dance around this forever, Rogers?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Ricket snorted. “Oh, please. You’re desperate to kiss me. You’ve been desperate to kiss me since the day we met.”
“The day I rescued you, you mean? Plucked you out of the stars and brought you on board the Barbaric Queen.”
“Ha ha, funny. Yes, that day.” Ricket stared up at him. “I guess I owe you my life three or four times by now. So, I suppose if you want a kiss, I’d oblige.”
Rogers felt more insulted than anything. “Out of the goodness of your heart? Now you’re the one playing games. I know I’m not the only one who wants that kiss. Don’t play, Ricket. If you want it, just say so.”
Rogers turned and walked toward the grav field that wrapped around the shotgun’s entrance. He pulled his suit’s helmet on and drew a deep breath, tasting the air before stepping through.
Beyond lay an open airlock—so much for safety precautions—which he walked through before examining their conveyance. It was known as a Shell, this one big enough to seat a dozen people in its simple enclosure.
Right now, the shell was split in two with the upper half suspended in the air above them. Rogers climbed in, and Ricket walked into the launch bay a moment later.
“You know why it’s a bad idea,” Ricket said as she climbed in after him.
“Sure do, but at least I didn’t make a joke out of it. Here everyone’s always saying I’m the player. Flyboy pilot, right? Girl in every port.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I saw you in your suit, there was something sexy about the way you stood, studying space. Anyway, effectively—until we find Kylie—you’re in charge. I kinda wanted to kiss you, I was trying to deflect.”
“So, you like space ship captains….”
Ricket smiled. “Who doesn’t?”
Rogers glanced at her briefly, taking in the beauty of her face from behind the confines of her helmet. “Guess we’re both safe now, unless we smoosh our helmets together.”
Ricket laughed. “Long as you forgive me. I handled it wrong. I’m sorry.”
Rogers knew their ribbing wasn’t meant to be mean-spirited, so he nodded, even if his heart still stung a little bit. “When this is over, we really need to get a meal. I’m starving.”
“For once, I agree with you.”
He lowered himself into his seat and pulled the harness over his shoulders. Ricket did the same and once she was secure, he keyed in the activation command for the
shotgun.
The shell’s upper half lowered over them and sealed into place.
“I wonder when the last time was that this thing went through a safety inspection,” Ricket muttered. “It looks older than these rocks we’re flying between.”
“I’m trying not to think about that,” Rogers said as he keyed in their destination, then waited as the shotgun’s navigation systems calculated spin and the location of the Chimin-5 receiving net.
“You know,” Ricket added. “No sane person uses these things for humans…shotguns are for inanimate cargo. Really sturdy inanimate cargo.”
Rogers nodded. He was all too familiar with that. “Let’s hope it has good a-grav dampeners.”
The console at the front of the shell displayed a countdown and Rogers gripped his harness as the numbers slipped below ten, then five, then one.
“Hooooeeee!” Ricket cried out as the shell accelerated down the rail at breakneck—almost—speed.
“Ugh,” Rogers grunted. “That had to hit at least ten gs for a second there.”
“What a ride!” Ricket said, grinning at him as the shell burst from the shotgun’s tube and out into open space. “We only felt a bit of it. I bet this thing pulled forty g’s without the dampeners.”
Rogers nodded as he looked out the windows into the black void around them. “This is surreal…we’re in space, with no engines.”
Ricket pointed at the console. “It has some grav drives for maneuvering.”
“Barely.” Rogers snorted. “If this thing misses the asteroid, we just fly forever.”
“Well, that’s a lovely thought,” Ricket replied. “Did you cross check this thing’s firing trajectory?”
Rogers gave Ricket a worried look and watched her eyes widen.
“You didn’t?” she gasped.
He managed to hold onto a worried expression for another few seconds before bursting into laughter.
“Of course, I did. Think I was going to trust this thing’s math without a cross check?”
“Stars, Rogers, if I wasn’t worried about the seals on your suit and this shell, I’d knock you in the head right now.”