“You don’t need to repay me,” Pat said.
“I disagree. But it’s too late now for that, I fear,” Rosa said. He fished into his pocket for something, found what he was looking for and fished it out. “Perhaps I can help you, at least.” He handed a small packet to Pat.
The packet contained pills. “Tylenol?” Pat said, smiling at the memory of how he and Carmen met in the first place.
“Something like that, but a good deal stronger,” Rosa said. “Take one every three or four hours. They should hold the fever at bay, long enough for you to…long enough, anyway.”
Patrick slid one of the pills out of the paper packet and dry-swallowed. It went down hard, but it did go. Hopefully it would help as much as Rosa thought it would. He could feel the lethargy and weakness getting stronger. And he still needed to be on his toes for at least a bit longer.
“Thanks,” Pat said.
“Thank you,” Rosa replied.
“For saving her?” Pat asked. Then, feeling especially daring, he added, “Or for loving her?”
“Yes,” Rosa said. He smiled, and reached out a hand.
Patrick took the offered hand and shook it.
Carmen’s pacing brought her back into the control room. The place was almost empty, far from the busy hub it usually was. Jacob was still sitting there, trying to work some magic with the systems in an attempt to contact the shuttle.
“Any luck?” she asked.
“Yes and no,” Jacob replied. “I’ve managed to patch into some remote system controls. But there’s no sign Pat or anyone else aboard is actually understanding anything I am sending.”
Carmen pulled up a seat and slid it over next to Jacob. “How are you sending the message?”
Jacob made a face. “I’m using the malfunction alert system to send Morse code. It should show as flashing lights on the pilot’s console.”
Carmen frowned. That wasn’t the most reliable tool in the world.
“I know,” Jacob said, seeing her expression. “But it’s the best I could come up with.”
“No sign that they’re getting the message at all?”
“None.”
She leaned back in the chair. It wasn’t a hard message. All Jacob had to do was get them to hear one word: cure.
They’d found it about six hours before. It hadn’t been that hard, once they knew what to look for. OK, that was a lie. It had taken nonstop work from everyone at the base, plus every asset on Earth that Carmen could tap into, for them to solve the puzzle. All they had to do was find the right molecule to bind to the virus and keep it from leaving the cells. Carmen lost track of how many variations they tried before they figured it out. No one had stopped to take a break – every member of both teams worked together tirelessly to find the cure.
It turned out that a small tweak to an old drug – oseltamivir – worked pretty damned well. Like the original drug, it would likely work best if given in the first day or two of symptoms, but it should help the body’s own immune system overcome the virus. It was still early to know for sure, but it seemed like it was working in the rats they were using to test the drug.
She’d already sent all their information back to Earth via an encrypted communication. Other doctors would look at the work, maybe improve on it a bit, do some live testing with humans who were already infected, and if it worked put the stuff into mass production. They were certainly going to need a lot of it.
The base crew was having a holiday. They’d earned it. Carmen figured most of them were already sound asleep, trusting her to deliver the cure to Pat and her father. There were two problems with that. The first was the armed gunmen on the ship, but frankly she was pretty sure if she could get the shuttle to land, she’d find them absolutely willing to turn themselves in as prisoners in exchange for the cure she had.
No, the bigger problem was the radio on the shuttle – which still wasn’t receiving anything they sent. She figured Pat probably had bigger things to worry about that fixing the radio, but it would have been a lot easier to tell him he didn’t need to send the shuttle off into space if she could talk to him!
Jacob had tried everything he could think of, and none of it was working. Which meant it was up to her. She took a deep breath, trying hard to calm her nerves and convince herself that this wasn’t crazy. Instead, she thought about Patrick, dying slowly up there of a virus that she’d cured, when she could have saved him.
No questions. She’d never be able to live with herself if she didn’t at least try.
“It’s time, then,” she said to Jacob.
He grimaced. “I can keep trying a little longer…”
“I think you’ve done what you can,” she said. She laughed nervously. “Trust me, if there was another way, I’d be happy to use it.”
“But…”
“Let’s do this, Jacob. Before I lose my nerve. They need us.”
He held her gaze for a moment, as if sizing her up. “I wish I could go along,” he said.
“So do I. But I need you down here to handle the remote access on the shuttle. I won’t be able to control the airlock.”
“Someone else? Anyone else?”
“They’d all try to talk me out of it,” she said. “And Patrick doesn’t have time for me to convince them.”
He nodded, the gesture an admission of defeat as much as of her being right. Carmen smiled, feeling a warmth toward the young man who’d helped her out so much. She stepped over to him and wrapped him in a hug.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Get going,” he grumbled. But he was smiling.
She headed down the hall away from the control room. In Pat’s research lab, the little prison was still standing. She tip-toed past it without turning on the lights, trying not to disturb Amy, but the woman must have heard something. Amy started banging on the inside of the wall.
“Let me out, damn it! Let me out!”
Carmen ignored her and kept walking. Amy could get out when they had someone up here to take her into custody more properly. The last thing she wanted was that woman wandering free on the base making more trouble. She walked on through the lab, the light from the hall casting long shadows. She reached the Hopper bay at last, placing her hand on the panel. It lit up, casting a dim glow into the alcove.
“Going someplace?” a man’s voice drawled.
Carmen jumped, whirling around. She pulled the only weapon she had from her pocket – an auto-injector loaded with medicine.
“Gonna stab me to death with your needle?” Fred asked, looking down at the thing.
“Not unless I have to,” she replied. “Why are you here?”
“You’re go’in up to help Pat, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m coming with you,” Fred said. He made it a simple statement of fact.
Carmen thought about it a moment. Having someone else along would improve her odds of success. But Fred and Amy had been close friends. She jerked her thumb back over her shoulder at Amy’s prison.
“How do I know you’re not working with her?” Carmen asked.
“Because if I was, I’d have let her out,” Fred said, his voice still bland and matter-of-fact. And it was a fair answer. Carmen had one other question, though.
“The shuttle is full of the virus, Fred. I can give you a dose of my cure, but it’s not been tested on humans yet. It might not work.”
“You think it works, though. You’re sure enough to be willin to risk your life to save him?” Fred asked.
Carmen nodded.
“Then I’m in.”
She made her decision. If he was willing to put his life on the line to help Pat, who was she to say no? She put away the injector and pulled out a smaller one. Grasping it firmly, she took a step toward Fred. He shied away, holding his hands up.
“Wait, what’s that?” he asked.
“I need to give you a dose of the cure as a prophylactic. To stop the virus before it really starts to get going,” she said.
She bared her sleeve, showing a mark on her arm. “See? Already gave myself a dose, too.” She stepped in close and grabbed his wrist in a tight grip. He sighed and winced theatrically as she shoved the needle into his arm.
“The things I do,” he said. “We ready now?”
“Yes.” Carmen placed her hand on the panel, which lit up again and opened the hatch. On the other side of the hatch was Hopper One – fueled and ready to go. She stepped inside and took the pilot’s seat. Fred followed her and sat down in the other chair. Carmen put on one of the headsets resting on the console and brought the computer to life.
“Base, this is Hopper One, radio check,” she said.
“Hopper One, read you clearly,” Jacob replied.
“Base, I’ve got a passenger. Fred’s coming along. Is that going to mess with your math?”
There was a pause. “No, we’re good,” Jacob replied. “You two sure you want to do this?”
Carmen’s hands shook a little, and she wished more than anything that people would stop asking her if she was sure. Of course she wasn’t sure! She didn’t know if the cure would work. She didn’t know if the Hopper could actually link with the shuttle as it approached the moon. She didn’t know if she could get aboard, and didn’t know if they could save Pat and her father even if she did manage to board the shuttle.
None of that mattered. It was time to go.
“We’re ready, base,” she said. “Uncoupling now.” She pulled a lever and the electro-magnets holding the Hopper against the base shut off. The drifted the short distance to the ground.
“We’re on the ground, base. Handing over control to you,” Carmen said.
Fred looked over at her, alarmed. “Say what?”
“Pat’s got the shuttle coming in at top speed. We have to take the Hopper higher and faster than anyone’s ever taken one before. Jacob explained it to me by saying it’s like trying to hit a bullet with a bullet. You feel up to doing that yourself?” she asked.
“Oh, shit,” Fred said. He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes.
“Hopper One, you are lifting off in five..four..three..two…”
Carmen missed hearing Jacob say the word ‘one’. When she should have heard it, she was distracted by what felt like a huge hand slapping her down into her seat. The pressure stayed there, becoming a weight pressing down hard. Carmen had to fight for every breath. All around her, the Hopper was shaking hard, making rattling and groaning noises as the thrusters poured on more speed than the thing had ever been designed to handle. Pat had said these little bubbles were tough. Today, she was putting that to the test.
Red pooled at the periphery of her vision, and black spots danced in front of her eyes. There was a roaring sound in her ears. Carmen was grateful that she didn’t have to steer the ship. She could barely move a finger, and it was getting so hard to take even the smallest, gasping breath. Then suddenly she couldn’t breathe at all. Her efforts to suck in air were useless – nothing in her body wanted to work. Her lungs screamed for air, and she strained to take in even the smallest bit. Carmen wanted to yell, to scream, to tell Jacob to slow them down, that they were dying! But her lungs were empty. She had nothing left to shout with. The black spots moving in front of her eyes grew larger, until they swallowed up everything.
16
PATRICK WOKE UP to another buzzing alert. He reached out an exhausted arm to silence the thing – and then woke the rest of the way once he saw what the computer was alerting him about. A proximity alarm? Out here? He shook his head to try clearing it. The drug Rosa had given him was still helping some, but he still felt awful. He slipped another of the pills out of his pocket and swallowed it.
Next to him, the soldier who was supposed to be guarding him looked a lot worse. He was red, flushed, his eyes closed. His breath was ragged – not gasps, but not a healthy sound, either. Pat sighed. Not much he could do for the kid but let him sleep through it. He shut off the audible alert and pulled up the screen for nearby space. Something small had matched course and speed with them. Even as he watched, it was sliding up alongside the cargo airlock.
Pat flicked on an external camera. It was a Hopper! Someone from the base? What they hell were they doing up here? Some sort of rescue? Crazy people. Pierce would kill them.
He had a sudden horrible thought that one of the Hopper’s passengers was Carmen. He didn’t know why he thought that – although it was certainly her style. She was the sort of woman who’d go launch an impossible rescue mission if given even half a chance. How the hell had they even gotten a Hopper up here, anyway? They weren’t spaceships – they were meant to flit around on the moon.
He couldn’t let Carmen do it. He yanked the ship sideways, trying to pull away from the Hopper. It followed, and even as it came closer Pat was horrified to see the cargo airlock doors opening. They were opening the doors remotely!
Quickly Pat punched up the error code’s he’d been getting before – little flashes of light on his dashboard, in a repeating pattern. He cursed quietly. The fever really had messed with his brain – he should have seen this right away. Long and short flashes – they’d been sending him a coded message. He didn’t remember Morse code, but he ran the flashes through he computer and got an answer quickly enough.
Cure.
Hope hit him like a hammer. If Carmen had a cure, maybe they could get out of this yet. Maybe they could all survive this mess after all. He stopped jerking the controls around, and the Hopper dashed into the bay, braking gently before activating electro-magnets to lock itself to the ship’s hull. The airlock doors closed, although the inner ones stayed shut.
Whoever they were, they’d come aboard now. The real question was, how could he help them against Pierce and his men? He thumbed through the cameras, fingers fumbling with the console controls. Pat cursed under his breath. He should be able to do this blindfolded! He rubbed his forehead, wiping sweat away from his brow. A few droplets went spinning away, the lack of gravity causing them to drift in little free-falling balls of smelly water…
Pat snapped his focus back to the task. His mind was starting to drift. The fever was burning through even the meds Rosa had given him. He tried to remember how long it had been since he’d last taken a pill, but couldn’t. Didn’t matter anyway – what was a little kidney damage if he was dying anyway? He took the pill.
He knew it would take a while to work, but just the act of taking it seemed to help him focus again. His fingers found their way to the controls with some semblance of their old, practiced routines. He tapped into the camera in the airlock. There was the Hopper. As he watched, the hatch started to open up – and Carmen pushed her way out of the vehicle into the open space of the airlock. For a moment he hoped that he was having fever dreams. This was something out of a nightmare. She wasn’t even wearing a helmet! If one of Pierce’s crew spotted the Hopper, or her, and opened the airlock… It was the worst thing he could imagine.
His fingers flew over the keyboard, executing the commands to open the airlock door. There! He reached out to press the button to execute the command – but someone slapped his hand away from the console. Then another blow landed, this one on the side of his head, just under his eye. Pat’s head snapped sideways, and if it hadn’t been for the straps holding him in his seat he’d have been knocked into the wall.
He looked up, trying to see through the stars dancing across his vision. It was Pierce who’d struck him, Pierce who’d picked the worst possible moment to come check on the situation in the cockpit. Pierce who was staring down at him, his face flushed red, a muscle in his cheek twitching – and the first hint of bruises showing around his eyes. The virus was making his brain bleed.
“Knew I couldn’t trust you,” Pierce said, taking another swing.
Pat managed to bring his arm up in time to stop the blow. His other hand went to the buckle holding him strapped to his chair. He needed mobility – right now! Pierce didn’t know much about moving in space. But he was strong – and the v
irus was going to make him more dangerous and unpredictable than ever.
Pat slipped off the straps just as Pierce slammed two more blows in on his head. But this time, he wasn’t stuck in place. Pat rolled with the first punch, letting the impact push him out of the way. The second barely connected at all.
Pat lashed out with one foot as he slid backward toward the wall. His boot connected with Pierce’s jaw, but the man rolled away from the impact. Pat braced both hands against the wall and kicked hard with both feet. He timed it right – Pierce was trying to close on him again, and his feet slammed into the man’s gut. Pierce grunted, and Pat could hear the air rushing out of his lungs as he flew backward again.
The soldier who’d been sleeping away in the chair was awake now, but groggy. He was working at the fastenings of his straps, trying to get free of the chair. Soon as he got up, he’d be another problem for Pat to deal with – one too many. He reached down and grabbed a wrench. He didn’t have time to aim too well before flinging it. He had to throw and pray. But his aim was good, and the thing cracked into the kid’s skull with a sickening sound. He was back out again.
Grounders would forget that just because something was weightless out here didn’t mean it lost its mass. A thrown steel tool still hurt.
Pat whirled back to his console. He had to do something to save Carmen. No time for anything fancy, but the commands he’d entered were still blinking there on his console. He pressed the execute button. The airlock doors started to open. Carmen pushed off toward the opening, and someone else was following close behind her – was that Fred? What the hell did the two of them hope to accomplish up here, anyway? His heart warmed to see her, but he wanted to shout to her, to tell her to run while she still could.
He heard movement to his left and looked up. Pierce was there, sailing through the cockpit toward him – the same wrench Pat had just thrown gripped tightly in his hand like a club. Pat cursed his luck – the tool must have bounced right where Pierce could grab it. He didn’t have time to move clear, so he raised his right arm to try to block.
Over the Moon (Star-Crossed Book 1) Page 16