Best of Beyond the Stars

by Patrice Fitzgerald

  It didn’t matter. She was a fighter.

  Level 62 was currently under Yahr’s control. He’d been a crime lord, a pirate on the outside. He’d lived a pretty cushy life but had gotten greedy and tried to hijack a big elite ship, knocking it out of the jump lane to loot it.

  No one understood how or why, but it had landed the pirate captain in prison.

  Yahr controlled eight of the Commons levels.

  Oddly, those were the safest.

  To Domino’s left, spectators shouted at a cage fight. She’d participated in fights like that to bring in money. Not tarn, the four systems’ currency, but ration packs. Everyone needed to eat. She’d made a name for herself in those cages.

  Skirting the edge of the crowd, she continued to the stairs.

  “Thirty-seven.” Targie’s words were clipped as she gave Domino the update.

  They’d spent too much time with Long John and too much time in the service corridors. In order to make it, they needed to trim off two more minutes.

  “Stairs.” Domino wasn’t going to deviate from the plan. They could use an elevator, but their ident chips would be scanned and they didn’t have a pass to clear certain levels.

  Besides, she was betting on an escape attempt. The new recruits always made a run for it when they heard an armada was near, and they’d be using the elevator because they didn’t know any different. Domino would need that distraction.

  Low-level thugs ran traffic on the stairs, which was another reason the new recruits would use the elevator.

  Domino pulled eight ration bits out of the packet on her right thigh. Ruley needed the extra packs for his woman, who was pregnant. Through a break in the crowd, she held the bits up and wiggled them, catching his eye.

  He was one of the few people she knew with blue eyes. He nodded once and took a step to the side, resting his stick against the wall. He looked away as they approached.

  She slipped the small, rectangular bits in his pants pocket. “Hope it’s healthy.”

  He blinked to acknowledge her statement.

  She opened the heavy door and slid through, the hairs on her arms coming to life when she passed under the red electrostatic net. Hopefully, their boards held up. The staircase was metal grate and climbed as far as the eye could see. She headed up, taking the stairs two at a time.

  The low g made it easier for her and Targie. Em struggled a little more.

  Domino paused on Level 48.

  “We gained a minute,” Targie huffed as she slipped past.

  “Don’t slow down.” Domino gave her a helpful push.

  Targie didn’t reply, she continued her run up the stairs, her hair wet with sweat. That would be a problem when they made it out. That sweat would freeze and could do irreparable damage to her skin.

  But they had to make it out first.

  Em slogged her way to the landing, breathing heavily. “I’ll make it.” She didn’t stop.

  Tough kid, but that wouldn’t be enough.

  Domino grabbed the girl by her belt and launched her up the to the next landing.

  They did that for another dozen floors.

  At Level 36, they stopped.

  Her breathing ragged, Targie gasped, “We’re still fifteen seconds short.”

  Seconds were the difference between life and death.

  Domino turned to Em. “You sure about this? No turning back once we step out that door.”

  Em’s dark eyes were resolute.

  Doubting the girl even really understood the consequences, Domino nodded once. There was a very good chance Em was going to end up dead. Domino didn’t like it, but she didn’t have the luxury of time to worry over it.

  She cracked the door and peered out. There wasn’t much to see. A large dock where small to medium-sized personnel ships could put down. The hangar bay was sealed with an irising door.

  No ships were currently docked. She didn’t think anything had parked in those bays since the station had been built. The docks in use were out on the gravitation ring. A few ships used them: voyagers out of luck, pirates who knocked ships out of the lanes to steal their goods and intrepid pioneers looking for their own piece of livable rock.

  Domino didn’t need to get them to the ring, just to the far end of the hangar.

  Large equipment worked the area, moving massive, metal crates. The cargo and supplies for the entire station came through there.

  Prisoners too.

  As a ship closed in on the push point, they would drop their load, grab the gravity well of the station’s ring, and push off for the next push point. The station sent shuttles to collect the crates for processing and distribution.

  To get resupplied after they jettisoned the crates with their trade goods into the jump lanes for pickup, they used much the same system, but instead of jettisoning, they ‘hooked’ crates and pulled them in as they readied for the push point.

  The crates were designed specifically so prisoners couldn’t climb in and wait for the next ride. They were rigged with defenses that slaughtered escapees in any of several gruesome ways.

  Leaving by prisoner pod wasn’t an option either. They were melted down on arrival for that very reason.

  No. Their only option was getting into a crate and overriding the protocols.

  Domino couldn’t see anyone. She slipped into the hangar and motioned for Targie and Em to follow.

  A shout came from the right.

  Domino ducked behind a stack of crates and peeked round the edge.

  Right on schedule, a group of prisoners charged out of the elevators with whatever weapons they had gotten their hands on.

  Kold’s heavily modded guards moved to intercept the aspiring escapees. Domino didn’t know how Kold managed to pull that off from the confines of the station. Modded guards were used by the elite upper crust. To have them in prison? Impressive.

  Em looked up at Domino, her eyes wide.

  What the hell was she supposed to tell the kid? Bringing her along had been a bad idea.

  Em blinked, nodded once, and her expression went from openly afraid to resolved. A pusher through and through.

  Domino rolled her head on her neck and led them from one crate to the next, staying away from the mechanized units moving the crates. The crates in the back were full of goods.

  The ones near the hangar door were empty.

  “Eleven minutes,” Targie whispered.

  At the last stack of full crates they reached a wide, empty expanse, easily thirty meters across. Nothing. No crates to hide behind. No mechanized units.

  The guards were busy rounding the batch of would-be escapees.

  Domino scoped it out and then nodded for Targie to go.

  It wasn’t as simple as just having to stay out of sight of the guards. Any of the other prisoners might call them out. This was a kill or be killed situation, and Domino would kill first. With her bare hands because that’s all she had.

  Flybots also patrolled the area and they were harder to find. The controller Targie had built made a blind spot against those, but there hadn’t been any way to test it until now.

  Targie went completely still, standing up as if at attention.

  Domino turned to Em. “She’s waiting for a bot to get past her. If Rigsbee did everything right‌—‌” She dug into her pack and withdrew the regulator, “‌—‌this should keep them from seeing you on a normal scan. But if you cross their path directly, you stop.”

  Targie moved in Domino’s peripheral.

  Her heart skipped with relief. “Just like she did.”

  “I know. I help build them.”

  “Perfect.” Domino reached into the pack on Em’s back and slipped the regulator in, pulling out two cables and clicking them onto the board. The board buzzed with a light current. She hoped it worked.

  A large, two-legged mech unit turned and headed away. It looked like a big chryabug, with two long legs allowing it to leap long distances in low g installations. It had a bubble body and a tin
y head with two long, whisker-like antennae. Most ships kept chryabugs, not the mech units, on board to eat other pests that sometimes ate through metal.

  One of the would-be escapees made a run for the hangar door.

  Two pulse-blasts and he was down.

  The others hesitated, staring at him.

  One.

  Two.

  And they were back at it again, fighting to break through the ring of guards and escape.

  Domino pushed Em forward. “Run like hell.”

  Em didn’t even nod. She just bunched her legs and leapt like she was fired by a spring, using the lower g to her benefit. She kept her leaps long and low.

  That wasn’t something they had been able to do anywhere else. The spaces were too tight. Plus, the g was a little lower in the hangar. The guards wanted to keep the prisoners off balance and a difference in g usually did that.

  Targie already had a panel off one of the crates. She reached inside to disable as much of the security system as she could.

  Domino didn’t know enough about them to be able to take one out. If Targie went down, their escape was toast. The best she could do was to start ripping out wires and mechanics and praying to the black it was enough.

  Em made it in less time than it had taken Targie to cross. She skidded into place just as a mech unit on the other side of the hangar turned and headed back toward the crates Domino was behind.

  Moments ticked by.

  Domino could only hope the unit was after a crate in another pile.

  Targie nodded once at Domino before scrambling inside the crate.

  Crap. Domino got her regulator card and hooked it up. She didn’t even waste the time to hope it worked. She knew she could make it across faster even than Em. The girl might have been born in this environment, but Domino had the muscle structure for high g.

  A shout came from near the elevator.

  The person manning the mechanized unit stopped, turned the mech around, and went toward back.

  Someone slammed into the crate next to her.

  Domino rose to the balls of her feet and swung around with her right fist.

  A strong hand caught hers and held there. She recognized the modded fingers. She’d helped him get them. She breathed a sigh of relief and looked up into Paxt’s brown eyes.

  He was tall for a Terran. They’d come in together and had formed a bond. He wasn’t a bad sort. He just had a moral fiber that his boss hadn’t appreciated. Really hadn’t appreciated.

  Paxt said in a quiet rumble, “Send me the code when you can. Let me know you made it.”

  Escape might be nearly impossible, but getting messages in and out of the station wasn’t. She nodded. Of all the people there, she would actually miss him. “Take care of yourself.”

  “Always.” He let go of her fist. “Run.”

  She didn’t even make sure it was clear. She trusted him, the rarest thing of all out there. She kept her center mass low and leapt.

  Em was inside the crate.

  The hangar door gave a massive metal groan.

  If she didn’t get in and get that crate back together, decompression would kill them before they had a chance to get their suits on.

  She slid to a stop and slipped inside as quickly as she could, Targie already working on sealing up the opening.

  “Get in your suit,” Em said quietly. She had her suit over her head and was working it onto the rest of her body. It should have enough oxygen to keep her alive until they were picked up. Maybe a little more, if they were lucky.

  Good girl.

  Domino’s suit wouldn’t cover her entire body, but she’d prepared for that. Her clothes were made from suit materials. All she had to do was put on her hood and seal it.

  Targie finished up the hatch and put on her suit. Hers was the clunkiest. She’d probably made it herself.

  A warning siren klaxoned. It was going to get real thin real fast.

  The hangar bay door groaned and squealed.

  The recruits that had rushed the docks had either retreated or were going to be dead in moments. Another failed attempt for them.

  And now came the other thing. The empty crates would be flung wide, easier for ships to grab as they were slung through.

  “Targie.” Domino’s voice had an edge her helmet couldn’t muffle. “How are we?”

  “We’re gonna find out.” Targie picked up her makeshift tablet and continued to work on overriding the systems.

  The siren silenced; the atmo was gone.

  It didn’t help Domino’s nerves.

  Em seemed unruffled.

  “When the crate starts to shift,” Targie said, her voice low, “new protocols will be introduced.”

  “And you have a way around them.”

  “I thought I had.”

  “What?”

  “They changed the programming again.”

  They were sitting in a box that was going to find a creative way of killing them. “How long do you need?”

  “Well, I have the thruster system in place.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yes. Except.” Targie glanced at Em. “One of the new programs will kick in once we hit a certain speed.”

  “And what program is that?”

  “There’s a crush system.”

  Domino knew exactly what that meant.

  “Great. Then, I recommend we figure out how to override that one. We can’t be caught‌—‌” the crate slid toward open space, “‌—‌out there as space junk. If we’re not picked up in this haul, we’re dead.”

  Because the station wouldn’t bring in the crates. They’d just leave them out there to die when what little oxygen they had ran out.

  Em moved closer to Targie. “Let me see.”

  Targie held her screen so Em could take a look.

  Domino peeked, but couldn’t make anything out. She heard the distinctive metal ting of one of the secondary systems coming online. “Targie.”

  “I’ve got my hands full.”

  The crush system wasn’t creative, but it was effective. A few prisoners had managed to make it this far in the past, but the spiked crush system was designed to puncture suits and poke the prisoner as full of holes as possible.

  This was one system Domino knew how to override, though her approach wasn’t subtle.

  The crate slid across the floor with more velocity, gaining speed as it neared the door.

  Domino took out her blade and smashed the control box with the hilt. If any of the mech units were close, they would receive the alarm but it would be too late to do anything about it.

  The thrusters buzzed into life and the crate tipped and rolled. Zero g. They were in the black and the only thing that was certain now was death.

  Em squealed and then punched the screen.

  It went black.

  Targie blinked. “What did you do?”

  Em shrugged, her suit making it hard to see the movement. “Game override.”

  “Game‌—‌” Domino closed her eyes and waited.

  The thrusters kicked on.

  They were slammed into the sidewall by inertia, accelerating to the jump lanes.

  No crush system engaged.

  Em grinned and shrugged.

  Luck. That was the only thing Domino could think. Pure, damned luck.

  They heard a quiet crack.

  Domino knew that sound. Every muscle in her body froze while she checked the plasteel glass of her helmet. No chips or cracks. She turned to check on the others.

  Targie stared in horror at the crack across her face shield.

  She only had seconds. The one crack would become‌—‌

  Two. It had started. She was out of time.

  The force that had been pushing them forward slowed.

  Em floated in the center of the crate, her eyes wide with horror.

  There was nothing Domino could do. They needed someone to grapple their crate and take them on board.

  The two became four. />
  Suit to suit comms clicked on.

  “What was it?” Domino asked.

  “Change in pressure. The crate is venting.” Targie’s expression might be wild with fear, but her tone was rock solid. “There was no way of testing the suit beforehand.”

  Frost formed in the corners of the crate.

  “We haven’t been hooked.” Domino knew Targie knew that, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying it out loud. It was her way of apologizing. This entire thing had been her idea.

  “I know.” Targie pressed her lips together and stripped off her pack. “Take this. I don’t know how much you’ll be able to keep out there, but there’s stuff to trade.”

  “I doubt‌—‌”

  Several more cracks appeared.

  The thrusters cut off.

  The three women floated, waiting, listening.

  Domino swallowed hard. “I doubt they’ll want ration packs.”

  Targie twisted her head around. “Conduit materials. High grade stuff.”

  Domino frowned. That might actually be worth something.

  “I’m the reason for the power spill on Sixty-one.”

  Domino snorted, a small smile finding her lips. She should have offered more, but she’d never been in the habit of it. “Badass.”

  Cracks became a web across Targie’s face shield. “Ship’s coming,” she whispered.

  “We could get hooked any minute.” But Domino knew it wouldn’t be in time. That shield was going to go any second. “Can you bleed the pressure in your suit?”

  “That’s a spacer thing, Dom,” Targie said with a scared chuckle. “We don’t do shit like that on Sixteen.”

  Domino knew that, but she had to try. If they could lower the pressure inside the suit, they would lower the stress on the glass. But that wasn’t something Terrans or pushers had to think about. It was something spacers did. Regulating pressure from one area to the next might save a life, or a ship... or a face shield.

  Something thudded against the outside of their crate. They’d been hooked.

  Em grinned widely at Targie.

  Targie tried to smile back. The spiderwebs grew. She looked at Domino and said quietly, “Look away.”

  Domino grabbed Em and turned them both away. That would protect their face shields at least.