by Ted Iverson
The ship flew over Alec’s head and landed. The hatch opened. Alec ran through the hole in the fence and into the ship as more guards appeared and began to fire.
Making his way to the cockpit, he ordered, “Go!”
The ship shot up vertically. Alec strapped himself into the pilot’s seat and tossed the satchel full of papers onto the seat next to him. Well, if I wasn’t wanted before, I most certainly am now. Back to the Turtle.
He adjusted some plasma knobs, pulled back on the yoke, and was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Zach and Orion had been at the Orbital Lab since Tuesday evening. Things were going as expected, and they were confident that they could, together, finalize all the propulsion and guidance systems issues in a couple of weeks. Then, if all went well, they could start on a small operating prototype.
“Zach, there’s a signal from one of the sensors for the Vacuum Restraint Field. It’s showing a fault code.”
“No problem. I’ll go take a look at it. Do you know which one it is?”
“No, I don’t, but we’ll find out. Maybe we can send someone else out to look at it, and we can continue with our work.”
“Come on. I’ll do it. I haven’t had an EVA in months. I need the practice.”
“Not really a good idea, Mr. Bindl.” The voice was that of Sub-Commander Banning Powers. “We have regular maintenance people for that.”
“Oh, come on, Commander. I need the practice. Besides, I could pull the trump card and tell you that I own this Lab. But I really don’t want to that, so what do you say? I go?”
“Zach Bindl, you are as bull-headed as your father was. I don’t like it but, as they say, you’re the boss. Go get your EVA suit on. I’ll meet you in the EVA prep room with the spare and the location of the problem sensor.
“Great!” Zach gave his brother a high five and headed off.
“He is as reckless as he is stubborn.”
“Yes, Banning, you’re right.” Orion patted the commander on the back and, as Powers walked away, Orion mumbled, “You are so right.”
Commander Powers looked back at Orion and sympathized with him. It must be a tough job keeping his younger brother in line. He turned back and left to gather the needed repair items and information.
Zach was in the prep room when Commander Powers came in.
Powers pointed to a schematic. “I’ve got your info. It seems that the number seven sensor is the problem. Here’s a replacement, if needed.” He handed Zach the small, funnel-shaped sensor.
Zach popped the spare into a small pouch that secured needed tools and diagnostic equipment. “Thanks, Commander. I’ll have it done in no time.”
“Zach, just take your time, okay? We’re in no rush.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
The Sub-Commander shook his head and headed to engineering to monitor the repair.
Zach finished putting on his suit. There was only his flight pack left to put on, but he couldn’t locate it anywhere. Two prep-room hands were helping him, yet none of them could find the pack.
“How do you guys misplace a flight pack?” he shouted into the com in his suit. “Please, go get me another from engineering. Okay?”
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said, motioning to the other to go. The man left quickly, but not to get a flight pack. He went to ready their escape shuttle. The lieutenant turned and locked the hatch.
“Hey! The hatch, you locked it!”
“You’re very observant. Here’s something else to take note of: your com link is inoperable except for in here, so trying to call for help will be of no use. By the time they think to look for you, you’ll be a tiny, floating, lifeless speck, and I’ll be long gone on a shuttle. So sorry to see you go that way.”
Zach started to remove his helmet, but the other man had opened the airlock and was moving toward him, weapon in hand. Zach tied to move away but had nowhere to go. He was already close to the open airlock. The bulky space suit didn’t help either. It made it difficult for him to maneuver. And, with no weapon, there was no way to defend himself. He’d have to take his chances outside. He backed into the airlock and activated his life support. He mentally thought over the exterior of the lab near where he was about to be ejected.
“That’s very smart of you. Now it’s time to say our goodbyes.”
The hatch slid shut. Zach heard the distinct noise of the air being sucked out. In the next instant he was floating out of the airlock.
With no flight pack, Zach couldn’t propel himself clear of the station. It was spinning as it usually did to create artificial gravity, and as Zach floated slowly away, part of the station caught him. Fortunately, it only grazed him. And, good fortune again, the blow didn’t shoot him further away as he feared it might. It just sent him into a spin.
He regained his senses quickly. He could see that he was going to collide with the Lab again. Maybe he could find something to grab that would at least stabilize him until he could figure a way out of this predicament.
The Lab was moving at an incredible speed. There would only be one chance at this. He reached out both hands, keeping an eye on what looked to be an antenna. He groped for the object as it came near, missed it with one hand, but caught it with the other then winced in pain as he was jerked back by the lab’ rotation. It felt as if his arm had just been ripped out of its socket.
Somehow, he managed to swing his other arm around and grab hold. He sighed with relief. The relief was premature. As he held tight, the antenna broke from its mount. Now he truly was a floating piece of space junk. As he tumbled away, he could see the rotating Lab slipping farther and farther away.
It wasn’t time to panic. He had enough air for a couple of hours, but he still needed to think clearly. He tried desperately to think of a way to contact someone, anyone. He was also trying to figure out who it was that had ambushed him and how that person had gotten on board. The thought of a traitor amongst them clouded his mind and his heart began to race.
Zach closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. First things first: he’d have to get back to the Lab. If he didn’t, whoever had done this wouldn’t be his problem. Zach started to mentally take inventory of what he had on him: sensor, tools, inoperative com link, air tanks, putty. Not a lot, that’s for sure. If only he had his flight pack. Flight pack! Of course!
By now those at the Lab had realized the situation and two searches were in progress. One team had begun to look for the person responsible. On the bridge, though, an all-out search had begun for Zach. Sub-Commander Powers was barking out orders. “Short range sensors?”
“Nothing, sir. They seem to be inoperative.”
“Long range sensors?”
“Sir, they’re not functioning either. I’ve tried rebooting them both, but they’re still not working. I’ve notified engineering. They say it’ll take a while to locate the problem, and then they’ll still have to fix it.”
“It’ll be too late by then. Com, alert the rescue shuttles. We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way. Security?”
“Security here, sir.”
“Anything?”
“Not yet, sir. It’s a big place. But we’ll find him. It’s not like he can just disappear. Sir, we do have a record of some shuttles leaving earlier.”
“Uh-huh. He got on one, didn’t he?” Complete silence ensued. “Report back when you have something solid.”
“Yes, sir. Lieutenant Labbe out.”
“Orion, both short and long-range sensors are out, part of their plan I surmise. We’ll have to ready the shuttles and find him.”
“As long as his suit didn’t take damage when he floated out of the airlock, he’s got about an hour and half of air left, so that’s good. Our sensors on the shuttles won’t work unless the main ones on the Lab do. They’re all linked together—for now anyway. That’s going to change in the future. Finding him is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack.”
“Good luck.”
&nbs
p; “We’ll be launching in five. See you when we return.”
Zach had somehow stopped his twisting movement and was now facing the ever-fading Lab. He noticed little shimmers moving away from the lab. Shuttles, he thought. Finally. He also noticed that none of them were headed in his direction. Great, no sensors. He went back to calmly working on improvising his way back to the Lab.
Zach had been out for close to thirty minutes now. Each of his O2 tanks held enough air for one hour, with a ten-minute reserve. He removed the tanks from his back and attached them to his front. Their bulk made moving his hands difficult, but he’d have to make do. Slowly, he took out the tool he’d brought for removing the bad sensor. It had four hollow appendages that formed what looked like a cross with each end a different size.
One side held a magnet. It would hold the tool to the hull of the Lab when the tool wasn’t in use. He discarded the magnet and watched for a moment as it toppled end over end into the blackness. This left a hole where the magnet had been. He then cut a cooling line from the outside of one of his legs, tying each end off after the cut. He took the piece of line and fitted it into the hole in the tool. Then, using putty, he sealed around the hose.
Zach reached back into the pouch and grabbed the replacement sensor. It wasn’t very big, but it would do. He took each end of the tool and fitted it onto the funnel-like sensor, manipulating the ends until he had a snug fit then sealed it with more putty. He gave a small tug. It would do.
Next, Zach shut off one of his O2 tanks and disconnected the outgoing pressure hose coupling from the middle. He cut off the coupling and tossed it aside. It too floated harmlessly away. He took the hose from the tool and fitted it into the tank’s hose. It wasn’t a tight fit, but by packing more putty around each hose he managed to make another good seal. The remaining putty he used to seal up the last three holes on the tool.
He was hoping the pressure wouldn’t blow the putty out when he turned his new invention on. He wasn’t sure it would work. “I guess I’ll soon find out,” he said to himself.
He had no way to aim it backwards in order to propel himself forward, so he’d first have to turn himself around. He pointed the funnel to the right and opened the O2 tank for a quick burst. He began slowly rotating left. When he’d turned enough to have his back to the Lab, he moved the funnel to his left hand and reached around with his right to open the valve for another quick burst. He stopped rotating.
It worked! He’d be coming in backward and blind, but that was of little importance. Then he remembered the small mirror in his pouch. He removed it, extended its shaft, and stuffed it into a loop on the suit until it didn’t budge. It stuck up and out just enough that he could see the tiny speck that was the Lab.
Time to go home.
He positioned the makeshift propulsion device dead center of his pack, reached around, closed his eyes, and opened the valve. Then he counted to twenty, closed the valve, and opened his eyes. He stared at the mirror for a couple of minutes. It sure seemed as though the station was slowly getting larger. Now he had to calculate if he had enough O2 to make it all the way back.
Alec had the Hare safely back inside the Turtle and was going through all the paperwork he’d discovered. He was most curious about the envelope he’d found. The name on it, Dr. Peter Sax, sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He leaned back and slid his pocket knife under the flap.
Moisture must’ve resealed it a long time ago, he thought. He took the paper out and read.
My dear Mr. Bindl,
It has been several months since I was admitted into this God-forsaken hospital. I am told that it will take at least a year and many surgeries for my recovery.
Though I would like to think that I shall return to have a fruitful and productive life, I don’t think it will ever happen, no thanks to you. You and your ideas, they will come back to haunt you.
What you seek for the world is idealistic. Your discoveries should be used for the Corporation, for you and me. It would be a fantastic thing and make more than you or I could ever dream of in ten lifetimes. But you insist otherwise. I hold you responsible for my current pathetic state.
We will meet again someday, though it may not be in this lifetime. You are responsible for my death.
Dr. Peter Sax
Horrified, Alec folded the paper and stuffed it back into the envelope. What did Sax think his father had done? What could make a man so bitter that he would want such revenge? Alec needed to find out what had happened.
He took out his satchel and rummaged through the other items he’d liberated from the compound. Most of the notes that were written by his parents were about the theory of interstellar flight. Others were on actual FTL theory. There were notes from Dr. Sax as well. It appeared to Alec that Dr. Sax and his father had been working together on the FTL project, but he really couldn’t recall his father ever mentioning the doctor. He needed to know more. It was time to contact his uncle. He turned to the holopad and began the transmission.
“Alec, is everything okay? Your aunt and I haven’t heard from you in a long time. It’s good to see you.”
“Thanks, Uncle Nate. I am sorry for not keeping in touch, but a lot is going on. I’ve come across some papers and I need to ask you a question.”
“Come across some papers? Alec, you wouldn’t happen to know about what happened last night at Meteoric, would you? The holonet is crazy today with news.”
Surprised by the question, Alec asked, “What news?”
“It seems as if someone broke into Meteoric’s headquarters last night, killed twenty-three men and injured more. Not only that, but this person got away with some vital paperwork. They’re still looking for him. One man they say. Hard to believe.” Nate was looking inquisitively at Alec’s holoimage.
“And you think it was me? Uncle Nate, now really.”
“Where are you?” Nate asked point blank.
“That doesn’t matter, does it? What matters is the question I need to ask.”
“So, you can’t tell me where you are—or you won’t tell me. Alec, if you’re in trouble, I get it, but I can’t help if you won’t at least let me try.”
“Uncle Nate, that’s not it. I’d love to share more with you, but it’s not time. Not good for me and wouldn’t be good for you or Aunt Peggy. Better let that alone for now. Please?”
“I don’t like this one bit. You aren’t the only one keeping secrets either. Those brothers of yours are up to something as well. They won’t tell us anything and what’s worse, they’re avoiding our calls and attempted visits.”
“I swear I didn’t know that, but trust me, it’ll be better if you don’t know and don’t try to find out.”
“I suppose I’ll find out eventually,” Nate mumbled under his breath. “Okay, the question.”
“Have you ever heard of a Dr. Peter Sax?”
Nate froze. He hadn’t heard that name in nearly twenty-five years. “Yes, I have.”
“Who was he?”
“He was already at Space Tech when I got hired by your grandfather. Sax and your father were close friends, and he was your father’s right-hand man for many years. The only thing they differed on was your dad’s vision. Jeff wanted to use Space Tech to better the world and Sax wanted to use it to better himself and the corporation. Somehow they were able to put their differences aside—at least for a while. As your parents and Sax became more enamored with the idea of FTL travel, the tension between them grew. Your father saw it as a way to unite the world and extend space exploration. Sax wanted to use the technology that came with it for personal gain. He wanted to sell it to the government for military purposes.
“The tension eventually boiled over. One night back in 2029—I think you must’ve been only three—they were in the lab at Space Tech and an argument broke out. Sax started to get physical with your father. As your dad was being attacked, he sidestepped the madman and grabbed his lab coat, catching Sax off guard. Sax lost his balance and fell. He lan
ded on a table that held hazardous chemicals, acid to be exact. His face and neck were severely burned, so much so that he was almost unrecognizable. Sax spent a year or so in the hospital recovering. It must have been horrible. I heard he committed suicide six months after he’d been released. I’ve also heard that he held your father responsible. That’s all I know. Your father and mother never really spoke of it.”
“So he’s dead? And that’s all?”
“Like I said, that’s all I know. The archives may have more, but I never thought much about it. I hope that helps.”
“If nothing else, it answers my question, but there’s still something missing. I don’t know, Uncle Nate. Something just doesn’t seem right.” He shook his head as if trying to get rid of the thought. “Maybe it’s just me. Thanks anyway for the help. I’ll try to check in every now and again, okay?”
“Alec, if you need anything, your aunt and I are here.”
“I’ll remember that. Thanks for the info.”
After disconnecting from his uncle, Alec immediately contacted Ty. Surprisingly, Joanne appeared instead.
“Hi, Alec! How have you been?”
“Fine. Thanks. Trying to stay out trouble, but not doing too good at it.”
“So we guessed. This Meteoric mess—you?”
“Joanne, are you implying that I had something to do with it? I’m shocked.”
“I thought so. Ty’s in a meeting. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Actually, I believe there is. I need you to research a Dr. Peter Sax. Apparently he worked with my dad about twenty-five years ago. I need to know what happened to him. I know he committed suicide, but I need more. I’d do it, but I should stay off the radar for the time being. Could you do that for me?”
“Of course. I’ll contact you as soon as I have something. I’ll also let Ty know you’re okay.”
“Bye and thanks.”
As Joanne faded out of view, Alec grabbed the satchel and loose papers. He headed into the back of the ship, sat down, and started to sort the papers.