My Other Car is a Spaceship

by Mark Terence Chapman

  Hal gripped the other’s shoulder. “At least you made it back in one piece—more or less.”

  Kalen gave him a weak smile in return. “Yeah, but we’re going to have to find something else to wear. They saw me in the black coveralls, so they’ll be looking for those in the future.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll think of something. The important thing is you got away.”

  “This time. But it’s getting harder and harder to avoid those patrols, and they’re getting increasingly suspicious. Worst of all, they didn’t even try to capture me. They shot at my head! I don’t know how much longer we can get away with this.”

  “You let him get away again?” A vein pulsed in Penrod’s forehead and he sat up straight in his chair. “I want you to double the patrols, around the clock—every guard you’ve got, working double shifts—until you get them! No more excuses. It’s either them or you. Got it?”

  “As you say, sir. We will catch them.” Ishtawahl nodded firmly.

  “So you keep saying!” Penrod stopped to take a deep breath. Afterward, he spoke in a more measured tone. “But this is your final chance. If you can’t do the job, I’ll find someone who can.”

  Before an awkward silence could emerge, he continued. “So how’s the nuke coming?”

  Ishtawahl relaxed. This time he had good news to report. “It was loaded an hour ago. Queen Anne’s Revenge should be ready to depart within two hours.”

  “Good. It’s nice to see something going according to plan.”

  “Today? They’re leaving today? Damn!” Hal looked over his shoulder to see whether anyone had overheard his muttered outburst. The corridor had been clear when he pulled Nude’s tiny note from the crack in the stone corridor wall they’d agreed to use as a dead drop to leave each other messages—but you never knew when someone might come around the bend.

  The note said Queen Anne’s Revenge was leaving within hours—with two nukes aboard. The note identified which hangar the ship waited in and said that Nude had dosed a crewman with a mild emetic to induce a brief case of vomiting.

  Crap. There’s four ships docked in the hangar. How the hell do we identify the right one, get aboard a ship full of armed pirates, sabotage either the missiles or the ship, and get out in one piece? And do it all in the next hour or two?

  I sure hope Kalen can come up with something.

  Kalen frowned. “All we can do is sneak down there and try to find a way onto the ship. Once aboard, we look for a way to stop them from using the nukes.”

  “That’s it?” Hal countered. “It’s not much of a plan.”

  The other man shrugged. “There’s no time to scout the hangar and formulate a detailed plan. Give me some intel and a few days to think about it and maybe I could come up with something. Lacking that, all we can do is improvise.”

  Hal sighed. “Aye-aye Captain. Now boarding the S.S. Make-Shit-Up.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Kalen chuckled. “Let’s leave Nude a note in the dead-drop so he knows what we’re up to, and then let’s go and kick some pirate ass.”

  “So, what’s the good word from my favorite Captain?” Penrod asked.

  “Tro says he is almost ready to leave,” Ishtawahl replied. “A crewman fell ill suddenly and had to be taken to the med center. Tro is merely awaiting the arrival of a replacement. He expects to depart momentarily.”

  “Excellent,” Penrod replied with a smile. “Our bank account has been looking a bit anemic lately. It’s time for another transfusion of cash to give it that healthy glow again.”

  “Money is good,” Ishtawahl agreed.

  “And the only thing better than cash,” Penrod said with a wink, “is lots of cash.”

  Hal and Kalen hid behind a stack of crates and boxes near the back of the hangar, observing the activity around one of the four ships. As with most pirate ships, three were hodgepodges of engines, weapons pods, and communications arrays from disparate ships married to a stock frame. But the fourth was something else entirely. She sported beautiful, graceful lines, clearly designed for atmospheric use. However, she was equally well equipped for battle in space, with more than the usual complement of energy weapons and missile tubes. She was as deadly as she was beautiful.

  It was this ship that was the focus of all the activity.

  “That has to be it, don’t you think?” Hal asked.

  “Must be.”

  “So how do we get aboard?”

  Kalen shrugged. He and Hal now wore the forest green coveralls and caps of ship’s crew. That was as much planning as they’d been able to accomplish in the time available to them.

  “I don’t know. According to Nude’s note, we may have a shot. But can we trust the sick crewman not to return before one of us gets aboard and the ship leaves? Nude said he’d keep the guy there as long as possible, but who knows how long that’ll be?” He shrugged. “All right. I’m going in.”

  “Why you?”

  “Simple. I’m the captain.”

  “Yeah, and I’m the pilot. So what? I figure I’ve got just as good a chance to get aboard as you do. Why should you have all the fun?”

  He grinned. “Tell you what, why don’t we flip for it? I’ve got my lucky coin.” He pulled it from his pocket.

  Actually, it was his only coin. When he was ‘abducted’ by Kalen way back when, he had a quarter in his shorts pocket. He’d kept it with him ever since. For whatever reason, the pirates hadn’t bothered to take it from him.

  Kalen thought for a moment and then shrugged again. “Fine. You’re on.”

  “Okay. Good luck, Captain. Whoever wins, these next few minutes could get hairy.”

  “Good luck to you, too, Hal.” Kalen shook the other’s proffered hand.

  Hal flipped the coin. “Call it.”

  “Heads.”

  The coin hit the floor to Kalen’s right and bounced past him. It rolled several meters farther and ended up against a crate. Kalen followed the coin and bent over to see who’d ‘won’—won the right to risk his life by attempting to infiltrate the ship’s crew and somehow sabotage the missiles or the ship.

  “Heads! I wi—”

  Hal was nowhere to be seen. Too late, Kalen realized the coin’s trajectory hadn’t been accidental. He’d been too busy chasing it to realize that Hal hadn’t bothered to wait for the results. Kalen rounded the stack of crates to see that Hal was already twenty meters ahead, with a sack of fruit riding on his shoulder and his cap pulled low to keep the guards from identifying him as one of the escaped prisoners.

  Damn him! It should be me going in.

  He shrugged mentally. All right. The plan’s changed. Nothing I can do about it but go with the flow.

  Kalen watched Hal approach the ship. Sixteen meters to go.

  “Hey, you!”

  Crap. The guard spotted him.

  Kalen watched as Hal slowed and pantomimed a “who me?” gesture. Twelve meters.

  “Yeah, you.”

  Kalen kept watching. There was nothing else he could do. If he had to, he could always run out and try to distract the guard to give Hal a chance to duck inside the ship. With any luck, everyone would be too busy watching Kalen tussle with the guard to notice Hal.

  Kalen tried not to think about the guards’ shoot-on-sight orders with respect to the escaped prisoners.

  “What’s up?” Hal kept walking, albeit slowly. He was now only nine meters from the boarding ramp.

  Can he bluff his way past the guard?

  “The captain has been waiting for you to get back. You are keeping the ship from leaving. Move your ass. Double time!”

  The guard didn’t recognize him!

  “Yes sir!” Hal tossed the guard a mock salute and dashed up the ramp. Just before entering the hatch, he turned his head enough to give Hal a wink from behind the sack of fruit, as if to say, “That was easy.” The hatch cycled shut behind him.

  There’s nothing else I can do here. Kalen turned and headed for the door behind him, keepin
g the stack of crates between himself and the guards.

  As he exited, he looked back toward the ship in time to see it gently lift off and float toward the outer hangar door. The door retracted, leaving only the force field over the opening to keep the atmosphere of the hangar from boiling out into vacuum. The shield was barely strong enough to hold in air; the ship slipped through easily. Within seconds, it was gone. The armored hangar door slid closed, shutting out the universe, the ship—and Hal.

  Damn it, Hal!

  Is there a chance of him coming out of this alive? Any of us?

  Unbidden and unwelcome, a thought stole into his mind.

  And then there were four.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “There was nothing I could do,” Kalen told a shivering Merry. He held her close. “The hatch closed as soon as he was aboard and I had to leave before the guard saw me and wondered what I was doing there.”

  “Will Uncle Hal be all right?”

  Kalen exchanged a glance with Sue, who stood opposite Kalen with a hand on Merry’s shoulder.

  “I hope so, sweetheart.”

  “But, what’ll we do without him?” Merry’s big brown eyes glistened with moisture.

  Kalen shrugged. “We’re Unity officers, aren’t we?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, then, we’ll do what Unity officers do: we’ll keep on fighting the pirates until we defeat them. Right?”

  “Right!”

  Her sharp nod and certainty brought a smile to his lips. “Good.”

  Moments later, he and Sue left her playing with a tuber that she’d decorated to look like a dolly, with straw sticking out of its “head” and little bits of rock shoved into the flesh where eyes and a nose would go. It hardly looked human, but it seemed to pass muster with Merry.

  “The child raises a good point,” Sue began. “You cannot do everything yourself.”

  As before, Kalen shrugged. “I’ll make do. What other choice do I have? Someone has to stay with Merry. Pardon my bluntness, but you’re a civilian. It makes more sense for you to stay with her while I do the dangerous stuff.”

  “No. You are taking on too much risk. Two of us have a better chance of succeeding than one. Despite your misgivings about my civilian status, consider than I am bigger and stronger than you. I am fully capable of taking care of myself. Plus, as you yourself have noted, there are more Chan’Yi in this fortress than there are humans. If anything, I will be less conspicuous than you. And as a scientist, I may have skills that you and Hal lack—not to mention my more acute hearing.”

  She paused for a moment to gauge Kalen’s reaction. “There is no reason we cannot share both the risk and the babysitting duties. Or do you consider yourself above caring for Merry?” The latter was said with eyebrows raised.

  A wry smile spread across the captain’s lips. “I’m guessing you were on your high school debate team back home. You make a strong case.” He nodded. “Very well, then. We’re a team. We’ll split the duties.”

  “Good. I was getting ‘cabin fever,’ I believe you call it, stuck in here all day every day caring for Merry. It will be most refreshing to get out and about.”

  “Okay. But just remember the ultimate goal.”

  Sue’s face grew hard. “Do not worry. I have not forgotten that these pirates murdered my friends and colleagues or sold them into slavery. I cannot undo that, but I can make the pirates suffer in turn.”

  Kalen didn’t like the sound of that. “Fine, as long as you make defeating the pirates a higher priority than making them suffer.”

  She shrugged. “As far as I am concerned, the two goals are not mutually exclusive.”

  “I’m sorry, Chief, I got lost on the way to the hangar. I just found out I was replacing the other guy a few minutes ago. I’m new here—well, new to the fortress—and I guess I got confused on the directions.”

  “I care not that you are new here. I care only that you were late! You held up the entire ship. Captain Tro is displeased at launching later than planned.”

  The short, stocky Blensian scowled up at Hal through watery eyes. “He is not one to displease. I have seen him personally throw crewmembers who have displeased him out an airlock.”

  “I understand, Chief. It won’t happen again.”

  Maintenance Chief Wenchen Floretha Greh nodded once. “See that it does not. This is your only warning.” She frowned. “Where is your gear?”

  Hal had dumped the sack of fruit as soon as he boarded and was empty-handed by the time Chief Greh caught up with him.

  “I wasn’t given time to pack. Just told to get my ass down here pronto.”

  She nodded. “Very well. Get some clothes and toiletries from ship’s stores. You are bunking in the aft crew quarters. Dump your stuff and report to your duty station. You will be working a double shift today as punishment for your tardiness.”

  “Aye, Chief. Uh, where is my duty station?”

  Greh scowled at Hal like he’d suddenly grown a third arm in the middle of his forehead. “Where—? You are a hyper tech, are you not?”

  “Uh, yeah. Of course—the engine room. On my way. Sorry, Chief. Everything happened so fast, I’m still a little fuzzy-headed.”

  Although he was unfamiliar with the design of this particular ship, Hal knew that all ships had certain design constraints in common. One of them was that engines had to be located in the center of the aft part of the ship. Due to the noise from the nearby engine room, aft crew quarters wasn’t the preferred place to bunk; but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Although he didn’t know the precise route to take to get there, Hal was confident he would find it eventually. One thing he did know, however, was that the last thing he would do was ask Chief Greh for directions!

  He turned and jogged aft, sent on his way by a glare from the Blensian.

  I’m aboard, and we’re under way. That was the biggest hurdle. So far, so good. Now I just have to hope that we get far enough from the fortress that we can jump to hyperspace before someone discovers the crewman left behind and radios the ship.

  If that happens, I’ll be looking at an airlock from the outside.

  Penrod frowned. “So what if a crewman got left behind? That’s Tro’s problem. Why bother me with it?”

  “Because you said you wanted to be kept notified of all developments involving the escaped prisoners.”

  “You’re not making sense, Jern. What does an AWOL crewman have to do with the prisoners?”

  “Normally, nothing. In this case, however, a guard reports the last crewman boarded the ship right before it launched.”

  “But—”

  “Twenty minutes later, someone else arrived at the hangar claiming to be the missing crewman. We have verified his identity.”

  “Then who—? Ohhh…. Of course. Have you radioed Tro to let him know of his intruder?”

  Ishtawahl nodded. “We attempted to, once we understood what must have happened, but by then it was too late. The ship had already jumped.”

  “Huh.” Penrod tugged on his lower lip in thought. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now. Tro will deal with him once he discovers he has an unwelcome guest aboard. But that reveals yet another hole in our security system.” A sidelong glare accompanied his words.

  “I’ve had enough of this nonsense. Screw the cost. I want every employee issued an ID badge with their holo image and a tracking chip. Anyone found walking around without one will be shot on sight. All incoming prisoners will get a subcutaneous tracking chip upon arrival. Every holding pen is to have a holocam installed, so we can keep track of their activities. We’re not going to have a repeat of this ridiculous situation. Got it?”

  Ishtawahl nodded.

  “Good. Now, how long will it take you to implement all that?”

  Ishtawahl thought quickly. He didn’t want to give Penrod a chance to work himself into another rage. “We have more than five hundred people working here permanently, plus dozens of others passing through. Taking the
holo images and making the badges will take several days, due to the number of employees and the different shifts. But installing the tracking equipment across hundreds of kilometers of corridors, ordering and installing the checkpoint scanners, training the security people on the new equipment and procedures, hiring more security to monitor the holocams and scanner consoles, and everything else involved—that will take weeks. We are still installing the holocams in the corridors, as you requested earlier. Continuing to do that while also installing this other equipment will tie up even more personnel. Is that really what you want?”

  Penrod closed his eyes, slammed his head back into his seat and grunted in frustration. “Why can’t anything ever be easy?” He waved off the question. “No, we can’t afford to tie up that many people. I’ll let you figure out the best way to implement everything I’ve asked for in the least amount of time—without bringing everything else to a halt.”

  Ishtawahl nodded. “In that case, it will take at least two months. But we will have partial coverage before that, increasing incrementally week by week.”

  Penrod rubbed his temples. “Fine. Whatever it takes. Just get it done.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “You know, Jern, some days it’s just not worth getting out of bed.”

  For the next four days, Hal did his best to avoid appearing incompetent at his job.

  A hyperflight drive tech. Terrific. Why couldn’t he be a cook or a hydroponics tech? There’s a huge difference between using a hyper drive and repairing one. I barely know how the technology works, let alone how to fine-tune it. If they ask me to do much more than monitor the drive status I’m in trouble. Fat lot of good my implant does me. I may have been the master of everything aboard Adventurer, but without being granted neural access to this ship by the captain, I’m just another grunt on the outside looking in.

  I’ll have to do something about those nukes before they discover I’m a fraud. The problem is, what can I do? If I disable the nukes or the ship, the pirates can fix them eventually. It’ll only delay the inevitable, and when they figure out who the saboteur is, I’m dead. On the other hand, if I find a way to detonate the nukes or blow up the ship I’m just as dead.