by Steve Perry
“I don’t see it,” Bueller said. “But I’ve got a shot of the inside of the lock.” He pulled up another image.
The lock was empty.
“All right!” Wilks said. “Hasta la vista, fuckheads!” He turned to look at Billie. “Score another one for the good guys, kid.”
Her hair floated up around her head in the zero gee. She closed her eyes and nodded.
Bueller turned the gravity back on and Billie settled into herself—
Then something started banging on the hull.
4
The pounding that vibrated through the ship changed to a scraping noise, like giant claws scratching on metal.
“Sounds like the cat wants in,” Wilks says. “I’ll get it.”
He tried to stand. An invisible karate expert slammed a steely fist into Wilks’s lower back. The spasm and pain nailed him into stillness. Any movement was too much. He collapsed back into the chair, and that hurt, too.
“Or maybe not,” he managed through tight lips. “He probably hasn’t had time to pee yet and we don’t have a litter box.”
“I’ll go,” Bueller said.
“Wait a second,” Billie said. “Why does anybody have to do anything? It’s outside. It doesn’t have any air, it will freeze, it will die!”
Wilks shook his head. Damned if that didn’t hurt, too. “It’s not human, Billie. We don’t know what kind of oxygen or energy reserves it has tucked away. It might survive a long time. Any of us would already be history out there.”
“So? Fuck it, let it croak slowly.”
Bueller picked it up. “This isn’t a combat ship, Billie. No armor. There are things it could damage out there. Heat tiles and hydraulic sheathing will protect against atmospheric burns and space dust, but not against what that creature can do.”
“What are you saying?”
“It jabs a finger in the wrong spot, bends the wrong flange crooked, rips the wrong hose, it might wreck the ship,” Wilks added.
“I don’t believe it.”
“Trust me here, kid. A human in a suit with a half-kilogram reactionless hammer could do it. If it knew where to hit us, that thing could blow us to eternity and it wouldn’t even work up a sweat.”
Billie shook her head. “Great. Just fucking great.”
“We have a couple of inspection suits,” Bueller said. “Umbilicals. I’ll see if I can rig one to fit me.”
Billie stared at him. She took a deep breath.
Wilks saw it coming.
“No,” she said. “Ill go.”
“Billie—” Bueller began.
“A spacesuit has magnetic boots,” she said. She stared at Bueller. “Is that right?”
“Yes, but—”
“So how are you going to move around and carry a carbine, Mitch? Hold the gun in your teeth while you clump around with boots on your hands? Wilks can’t, you aren’t in any shape to do it. That leaves me.”
Wilks and Bueller exchanged looks. “She’s right,” Wilks said. “I hate that, but she’s right.”
* * *
Billie stripped to her undershirt and panties. The lock was chilly, the suit stiff and bulky as she stepped into the bottom half and worked it up her legs. Chill bumps frosted her skin; her belly felt as if it had been flash frozen from the inside out. Wilks had drilled her half a dozen times in how to put the suit on, how to test the seals, make sure everything was in working order. If he could have moved, he would have been here checking it. Of course, if he could have moved, he would have gone himself.
The suit had a voxcom; Wilks’s voice came over it as Billie lowered the hard plastic helmet into place.
“Listen, kid, we can’t be of much help in here. The internal cameras would freeze outside and this piece of shit isn’t equipped with hull scanners. I might be able to rotate one of the long-distance sensors, but even so, it’d be fairly myopic.”
“You want to watch it eat me?”
Mitch came on the com. “Billie…”
“Just a joke, Mitch. Don’t worry. I’ll find the damned thing and shoot it. I’ve got four shots left, that should be plenty.”
She wished she felt as brave as she tried to sound. The odds were in her favor. She knew what she was dealing with, she had a gun that could kill it, she was brighter. The drones were like big ants or bees, they were nasty and deadly, but stupid.
That’s what everybody said. Relentless, yes; smart, no. Faux grav was confined to the inside surfaces of the ship. Outside, the thing would float away if it wasn’t very careful. Billie could walk on the hull with her boots; the alien would have to have something to hold on to. And it wasn’t going to be her.
“Okay, I’m in the suit. The air is coming through, the heaters and valves and all are green, according to the little panel under my chin. I’m going to close the inner hatch and depressurize the lock.”
“You sure?” Wilks said.
“Yes, Mother.”
“Billie. Be careful.” That from Mitch.
She could hear the love in his voice. She thought. She nodded, realized he couldn’t see it. “Don’t worry. I’m going to be real careful.”
The pumps cycled online. The heavy suit expanded as the pressure dropped in the lock. God, she felt as if she were in a thick balloon. She could bend her arms and legs, but it was not easy. The carbine had been built with combat gauntlets in mind so she could reach the trigger okay in the suit’s gloves. She made sure the fire selector was in single-shot mode. The LED number 4 on the magazine readout gleamed redly at her. Four shots should be enough. Should be plenty.
Another red light went on, this one a bar showing the lock’s air pressure was effectively zero. Billie swallowed, her throat dry. “I’m going to open the outer door,” she said.
“Copy. Go.”
The hatch slid up. The stars were hard pinpricks against the dead black curtain of space. The local sun was shining, but on the opposite side of the ship. Billie moved to the entrance. Leaned out and looked to the sides. The ship had running lights and the faint glow was enough for her to see the immediate area was clear. A faint dusting of dreg-air blew out, becoming visible as it froze.
“Nobody in sight. I’m going out.”
“Don’t forget, your boot controls are on your hips, they’re toggles. Put one foot out and light the magnetics on that side first.”
“I remember.”
Billie put her right foot outside the ship, lifted the protective cover over the button on her hip, pressed the control. The boot stuck to the ship’s side without sound.
“The magnets are stronger under the arch of your foot, weaker at the ball and heel,” Wilks said. “Walk as normally as you can and the boot will peel up and replant okay. It’ll feel like you’re stepping on something real sticky. Just take it slow, keep one foot down at all times.”
“Wilks, you already said that. It wasn’t that long ago; my brain hasn’t gone dead yet.”
Billie moved her other leg outside of the ship, triggered the magnetics on the left boot. Felt a sudden dizziness as she stood “up,” extending from the side of the ship like a thorn stuck into it. She attached the magnetic ball of the umbilical to the ship as a backup.
“You’ll probably feel like you’re falling,” Wilks said. “That’s okay, don’t let that bother you, you’ll adjust in a little while.”
Billie looked around. God, it was so big! Despite the fear she felt, a sense of wonder flowed into her. There was a kind of razor-edge beauty to it. The suit’s heaters were on, she was comfortable enough, but the cold was so deep she could almost hear it sing. She sighed. It was a rush, being out here in the middle of nowhere, millions of klicks away from anything. It made her realize how small she really was, compared to the vastness of the cosmos.
“It’s a real E-ticket ride out here.”
“Ain’t it, though,” Wilks said. “You never forget your first EVA.”
“Assuming you survive it,” Billie said.
Walking was, as Wilks said,
not too hard. A little awkward, but not bad once you got used to it. There was a little light on top of her helmet, and she switched it on. She felt as if she were the only person in the entire universe.
Wake up, Billie, she told herself. Don’t forget why you’re out here.
“I’m by the big dish-shaped thing,” she said.
“The main antenna,” Wilks said. “See anything?”
“Nope. I’m going to walk toward the back of the ship. I’ll stay near the right edge so I can look down the side.”
“Copy.”
Billie started moving. She held the carbine ready to fire, her finger on the trigger. You weren’t supposed to do that, you weren’t supposed to touch the trigger until you were ready to fire the weapon, but she wasn’t going to risk fumbling in the damned gloves when she couldn’t feel anything through them. She’d heard the scientists were working on nanopuke suits that were thinner than paint and stronger than spider silk, you could see right through them, but the alien infestation no doubt put a stop to that fast enough.
She passed the parabolic dish, a couple of meters away on her left, glanced over to make sure nothing was crouched down behind it. The umbilical ball rolled soundlessly along behind her. She started to turn back and peer over the side of the ship when she caught a glimpse of movement in her peripheral vision.
Billie twisted back toward the dish, pivoting slowly on the balls of her feet. Her left boot peeled up from the deck.
The alien flew toward her like some malignant retro-bird, arms extended, taloned hands spread wide to catch her. It must have been flattened against the back of the dish, she thought. She should have looked higher. Bad mistake—
She screamed, something wordless and primal, and snapped the carbine up. Her vision tunneled, and she was vaguely aware of her yell echoing in the suit, of Wilks rattling something incomprehensible at her through the com. A single heartbeat later even those sounds vanished as all her attention focused on the black death sailing toward her. The distant sun glittered on the thing’s armor, cast a long shadow over her, as it loomed, a living eclipse. Nothing existed for Billie in that moment save the thing’s teeth, frozen spittle and slime crusting them as they came for her. She had the carbine up now, no time to aim, just point it and shoot—!
The recoil from the first shot peeled the other boot free of the ship. She couldn’t tell if she hit the alien or not. The second shot’s recoil spun her backward in a flip, her lower body and feet blocked her view of the onrushing monster. The umbilical created drag; the magnetic ball held. Instead of finishing the flip or sailing straight back, she arced downward toward the ship. Went over the side, still connected to the hull.
The alien flew at her, a meter away, but rising. One of her shots must have hit it, a stream of liquid sprayed from the top of its head, the fluid glittering and freezing into crystals as it spewed forth. The impact of the bullet had spun the monster slightly, but the spray of its blood coming out under pressure seemed to be pushing it back the other way. Toward her—
Billie fired the carbine again and again. She couldn’t hear it, but she could feel the electronic click under her gloves as the weapon cycled empty. It was all so deathly silent—
Both rounds missed, as far as she could tell, but the recoil drove her away from the flying monster. It soared past her, missing by a good half meter. It did not go easily into the void. It twisted, tail lashing, inner jaws shooting out and snapping in what she thought must be rage. The thing turned slowly and continued onward into the vast emptiness.
Billie managed to tug on the umbilical and keep herself mostly facing the alien as it moved off. It was only when the thing was the size of an ant, a real ant, that she became aware of the com blasting at her again.
“Billie, goddammit, answer me!”
“Okay, okay. It’s all right.”
“What happened?”
“I found the cat,” she said. “It didn’t want to come in after all. It wanted to go prowl the neighborhood.”
“Buddha. And Jesus, too.”
“It may run into Them where it’s going.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on in.”
“Yeah. I hear that.”
She hauled herself up the umbilical until she could stick her boots to the hull again. Oh, man.
As she was heading toward the hatch, she saw something glittering in the sunlight. The angle was just right, anywhere else she probably would have missed it. “Hello?”
“Billie?”
“Wilks, there’s something floating next to the ship.”
“The alien?”
“No, it’s long gone. This looks like a contrail. Runs right toward the rear of the ship, but at an angle.”
“Stray vapor, maybe,” Wilks said. “From when we blew the aliens out. Or the dregs from your EVA lock-open.”
“I don’t think so. I can see some frozen air here and there. This looks like a jet trail. Real thin, but it seems to make a loop out in the distance. I can’t tell at this angle.”
“So it’s an anomaly. Forget it. Come inside.”
“I ought to go check it out, long as I’m here.”
“I said forget it.”
“Yeah, well, you say a lot of things, Wilks.”
“Billie. Maybe it’s alien piss. Or puke. It doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe. Maybe the other alien could pee hard enough to shove itself back to the ship.”
“Come on. The things aren’t that bright.”
“You ever hear of anything that could survive hard vac without a suit? That could pound on a deep-space ship from the outside when it didn’t have any air or protection from cold down around Absolute Fucking Zero? They might not be bright, but they die hard, Wilks.”
The com was silent.
“I’ll go see. Probably it’s not anything.”
“How many shots do you have left?” Bueller put in.
“Uh, actually, none.”
“Dammit, Billie—”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “I don’t have anything to shoot with, anyhow.” The carbine was gone. She couldn’t remember when she’d let it go.
“What are you gonna do if there is another one of those things there?” Wilks asked, “Insult its mother?”
“I’m just going to look. One thing at a time.”
* * *
Bueller started to leave his cradle. “Where are you going?”
“Outside.”
“Cancel that thought, mister. Not gonna happen.”
“Sergeant, if there’s another one of those things out there Billie won’t have a chance against it unarmed.”
“And you will? Last time you went up against these suckers you lost your ass, Bueller. And you are a bottle-bred marine and were armed.”
“Wilks—”
“Civilization may be down the tubes but you’re still a marine assigned to my command until you hear otherwise, ain’t that right, Bueller?”
“You know it is.”
“Then stay right where you are. We don’t know anything is out there and therefore Billie is not in any clear danger.”
Bueller bit down on his anger; Wilks could see him fight the desire to disobey the order. The programming won out. “All right.”
“Good boy. Now, see if you can figure out something we can do if she gets to a place she does need help.”
* * *
Billie walked down the rear of the ship until she was at the docking thruster. The gravity drives didn’t use this thing; they were tuned to waves that ran completely through the ship, as she understood it, but for close order drill, the ship had rockets for maneuvers. As long as the gravity drives were operating the rockets wouldn’t budge the vessel, that’s what Wilks had told her.
The main thruster was a hollow tube a good three meters across, and it went far enough in so the other end of it was in complete blackness. The only way she was going to see that far was to lean over the rim and use her
helmet light. Which meant that if anything was in there, it was going to see her when she peeped over the edge.
She told Wilks and Mitch what she was going to do.
Her breath was loud in the suit, the no-fog plastic of the helmet’s faceplate was beaded with little drops of condensation, perfect, round spheres, unaffected by gravity, held together by surface tension.
“Okay. Here goes.”
Billie pressed herself flat against the ship, using her hands to keep her steady, her boots touching only at the tips of the toes. She edged forward and leaned over the rim of the thruster, the lip of which was some slippery ceramic material. Managed to keep her grip as she was looking into the black hole.
Nothing. Least not from this angle. She edged farther out, to give herself a better view, all the way to the back of the thrust tube.
The little pool of light from the helmet splashed on the smaller reaction tubes that formed the rocket’s spray controllers. Nothing. She started to relax.
Then she saw the alien. It was crouched against the reaction tubes, ready to spring. As if it had known she was coming.
“Oh, shit! It’s in the thruster!”
Billie scrabbled backward, trying to get back over the rim. Her gloved hands slipped on the ceramic liner. Her right boot came free of the ship.
“Turn over!” she yelled at herself. “Get your fucking boots down!”
The monster raised its head and seemed to smile at her. It crouched lower. It was going to spring, and if she wasn’t out of its way when it got here, it would catch her.
“Billie, get clear of the thruster!” Mitch yelled. “I’m going to fire it!”
“I’m trying!”
Time stretched, seconds became days, months, eons. Billie twisted, tried to put her foot down, but had nothing to shove against. She pulled on the umbilical. It was loose, it didn’t help.
“Billie!”
The alien sprang. It seemed all teeth and claws…
“Billie!”
In desperation, Billie realized she was trying to do the wrong thing. There wasn’t any gravity out here. She didn’t have to crawl backward on the ship, she just had to get out of the thing’s way. She was thinking in two dimensions, but now she had wings. She shoved, as if she were doing a push-up. Flew away from the ship at a right angle—