The Aftermath gt-16

by Ben Bova

  * * *

  “This is weird,” Theo muttered as he lifted Dorn’s prosthetic arm out of its shoulder socket.

  The cyborg was sitting stolidly on a stool by the workbench. An interactive maintenance vid was running on the wall screen of the workshop. The arm felt heavy in Theo’s hands; he put it down carefully on the workbench’s top, littered with tools.

  “Can you feel any of this?” Theo asked.

  Dorn nodded slightly. “It isn’t pain, but the sensation isn’t pleasant, either.”

  Jabbing a thumb toward the wall screen, Theo said, “According to the vid, this shoulder joint should be self-lubricating.”

  “Pressurized air lubrication, I know,” said Dorn. “But the shoulder seizes up. The lubrication fails.”

  Theo asked the voice-activated program for a list of possible failure modes.

  “Air leakage,” he said, studying the list. “That must be it.”

  “Or erosion of the bearings.”

  “I can test the bearings,” Theo said. Pointing, he asked, “That’s an electron microscope, isn’t it?”

  “The maintenance program should have a subroutine for testing the bearings.”

  “Right.”

  Half an hour later, as he was replacing the bearings in the shoulder ring of Dom’s arm, Theo said, “The bearings are all well within specification.”

  “Then it must be a pinpoint leak in the air lubrication,” said Dorn. “We don’t have the equipment to find a microscopic hole in the seal.”

  Theo thought a moment. “Maybe we can—”

  Elverda’s voice on the intercom interrupted him. “The navigation program estimates rendezvous with Syracuse within one hour. I can see another ship mated with her.”

  “That’s the scavengers,” Theo said.

  “They’ll want this ship,” said Dorn.

  “They’ll want to kill us all, including my mother and sister.”

  Dorn gestured with his human arm. “We’d better get me back together, then, and hope the arm doesn’t freeze up again.”

  Lifting the arm in both hands and working its end into Dorn’s prosthetic shoulder, Theo said, “Maybe we can use a quick and dirty fix.”

  “Quick and dirty?”

  “Yeah.” The arm clicked into the shoulder socket. As Theo reached for the air hose attached to the workbench’s side, he explained, “We replenish the air in the bearings, get it up to the right pressure, then we spray a plastic sealant around the joint, so the plastic covers whatever pinhole might be in there.”

  Dorn thought a moment. “Like spraying sealant on a leaking tire.”

  “Right. It ought to hold, at least for a while.”

  Dorn nodded. “It’s better than nothing.”

  * * *

  Valker disabled the circuit that fired the explosive bolts that would separate the backup command pod from the main body of Syracuse, talking to Pauline and Angela nonstop as he bent over the console.

  “My crew’s drooling with anticipation over you two,” he said, his usual smile replaced by a tight-lipped, unhappy frown. “It’s not going to be easy to keep you out of their hands.”

  “Then let us get away from here,” Pauline urged.

  Valker shook his head. “No. That won’t work. They’ll go chasing after you. And when they catch up with you, nothing will stop them. Not even me.”

  “Then what are you going to do?” Angela asked, her voice trembling.

  “They’ll be busy taking Hunter once it gets here. But after they’ve got her, they’ll want to celebrate.”

  “Leave my daughter alone,” Pauline said. “Give me to them.”

  “Mother!”

  “That might work,” Valker said, “for a while. But only for a while.”

  Pauline swept the cramped pod with her eyes, looking for a tool, a weapon, something, anything.

  Valker straightened up, the disconnected firing keys to the separation bolts in his hands. “Ladies, I’m afraid you’re in for a rough time.”

  CARGO SHIP PLEIADES:

  BRIDGE

  Victor called up the nav program for the eighth time in the past half-hour. “Estimate rendezvous with Syracuse in ninety-three minutes,” he read aloud from the screen. “Ninety-three minutes. I’ll see Pauline and the kids again in a little more than an hour and a half.”

  Punching up the radar image, he saw the wheel shape of Syracuse clearly enough, although there seemed to be a strange sort of bulge on one side of the vessel’s hub. And there was the blip of Hunter, also heading toward Pauline. His fingers worked the keyboard and the screen showed that Hunter would arrive at Syracuse’s position in less than an hour.

  They’re thirty-some minutes ahead of me, Victor thought. I’ll get there half an hour after they do.

  He checked the comm program. No messages from Syracuse since Pauline’s call. Why not? Victor asked himself. You’d think they’d be beaming out a steady call for help. Why aren’t they?

  He sagged back in the command chair, unwilling to believe what logic was telling him. That one message was their last gasp. They’re dead now. All of them. Pauline. Theo. My little Angel.

  He pounded both his fists on the chair’s armrests. To come this close! And still be too late. Victor bowed his head. He wanted to weep.

  But instead he raised his chin and glared at the radar image on the main screen. No. I won’t give up. Not until there’s not a shred of a chance that they’re still living. Not until I see their dead bodies with my own eyes. Not until then. Not until then.

  * * *

  Valker’s communicator buzzed in his tunic pocket. His eyes still on Pauline and Angela, he fished it out of his pocket and held it up to his ear.

  “What?”

  Nicco’s voice answered, “Radar shows another ship heading this way. Running silent.”

  Valker’s brows knit. “Running silent?”

  “And heading this way like a bullet, about half an hour behind Hunter.”

  Breaking into a broad grin, Valker said into his comm unit, “What did I tell you, boys? This Syracuse is our good luck charm. She’s like a magnet, drawing ships to us. Now we’ve got two vessels we can salvage.”

  “I don’t like it,” said Nicco. “Why’s she running silent? Who is she?”

  “Maybe another band of salvage operators, just like us,” Valker mused.

  “That could be trouble.”

  “Not if we’re ready for ’em and they’re not ready for us.”

  Nicco said nothing.

  “I’m coming over to Vogeltod,” Valker said. “We’ve got to take Hunter fast and be ready for this other ship when it gets here.”

  “An old woman and a priest,” Nicco replied. “Shouldn’t be much trouble.”

  “Right. Let’s nail them quick and clean.” He clicked the communicator shut and said to Pauline, “I’ve got to attend to business back on my ship. Don’t do anything foolish while I’m gone.”

  Pauline glared at him.

  As Valker started up the tube ladder toward the ship’s hub, Angela asked her mother, “What can we do?”

  “Wait,” Pauline said, in a hushed voice.

  “Wait for them to come and get us?”

  “Wait until that smiling ape gets back aboard his own ship. Then we go over to the main airlock as fast as we can and get into our suits.”

  “The space suits? Why?”

  “We’re getting off this ship.”

  “But you heard him,” Angela objected. “They’re going to take the ship that’s approaching us. It wouldn’t do us any good to—”

  “We’re not staying on this ship with that gang of rapists waiting to get their hands on us,” Pauline said. “I don’t care if we die of asphyxiation in the suits, we’re getting away from here!”

  * * *

  On Hunter’s bridge, Theo slid into the communications chair. “We’re close enough for a tight laser beam transmission,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

  “You w
ant to speak to your mother and sister?” asked Elverda.

  Theo nodded. “I want to let them know I’m alive, without that Valker or his crew hearing me.” Silently he added, But I don’t know how long I’m going to stay alive. The two of us—Dorn and me—against ten of them.

  Dorn was standing behind Elverda, in the command chair, moving his prosthetic arm in a circle, testing its bearings.

  “Do you know how to activate the laser?” Elverda asked Theo.

  “Yes ma’am,” he replied, his fingers playing across the console’s keyboard. Looking up at the comm screen he saw the battered hulk of Syracuse looming close enough almost to touch. A tiny red dot showed where the laser was aimed. Theo played the controls, marching that red dot across the vessel’s curving hull until it locked onto the optical receiver built into the backup control pod. The dot suddenly changed to green and Theo pressed the key that opened the communications link to the receiver.

  Okay, he said to himself. Nobody hears this except Mom, on the receiving end of the laser beam.

  “Mom, Angie,” he called. “It’s me, Theo. I’m on Hunter. They picked me up after Valker’s thugs tried to kill me. I’m okay. I’m coming back to help you.”

  No response. Theo pressed the repeat key, but still there was no answer from Syracuse.

  “They’re not in the control pod, I guess,” Theo said, as much to himself as to Elverda and Dorn. “But the intercom should relay the message.”

  * * *

  Victor was weighing the possibilities. That’s definitely another ship attached to Syracuse, he told himself. On his main display screen he could see the smaller vessel linked to Syracuse like a lamprey eel that’s attached itself to a hapless fish.

  And there’s Hunter, heading in.

  He couldn’t be patient any longer. He got up from the bridge’s command chair and went to the communications console.

  “Attention Syracuse,” he said, his voice brittle with tension. “This is Pleiades. I heard your call and I’ll rendezvous with you in…” He glanced at the digital clock readout on the screen. “… in seventy-eight minutes.”

  * * *

  Pauline was in the locker area just outside Syracuse’s main airlock, checking the seals and connections of Angela’s suit, when the intercom speaker in the overhead announced, “incoming message.” She ignored the statement. Getting Angie suited up and ready to escape the ship was more important.

  “Another message,” Angela said. “That makes two.”

  Satisfied at last that her daughter’s suit was spaceworthy, Pauline reached for the leggings of her own suit and sat on the bench that ran in front of the lockers.

  “Never mind the messages,” she said. “The important thing is to get off this ship before Valker comes back.”

  Angela stood stiffly in the cermet suit, the visor of her bubble helmet raised.

  “But aren’t you going to check the messages?” she asked.

  “They’re probably for Valker, from his crew.”

  “But—”

  “There’s nobody out there to send messages to us, Angie,” Pauline said, grunting with the effort of tugging on her heavy boots.

  “Maybe it’s from that other ship heading toward us,” Angie insisted.

  Pauline almost smiled. She’s still young enough to hope for a miracle.

  “That’s the Hunter. The only people aboard her are an old woman and a priest. I’m hoping that we can get to them before Valker seizes their ship. Maybe we can get away on their ship, if we’re lucky.”

  Angela gave her mother her stubborn scowl and clomped to the comm panel mounted on the bulkhead. “It wouldn’t hurt to hear what they’re saying,” she said, holding her gloved hand up to the panel.

  She’s right, Pauline realized. Shrugging, she said, “Go ahead, then.”

  Angela pressed the comm unit’s on button and said, “Play first message, please.”

  They heard, “Mom, Angie. It’s me, Theo. I’m on Hunter. They picked me up after Valker’s thugs tried to kill me. I’m okay. I’m coming back to help you.”

  “Theo!” both women cried in unison.

  “He’s alive!”

  “He’s coming back!”

  Pauline redoubled her efforts to get into her suit. “We’ve got to get to him before Valker’s crew takes over that ship,” she said.

  “We should send him a message,” said Angela. “Warn him.”

  “No, we can’t do that,” Pauline countered. “Valker and his people would hear any message we sent, unless we used the laser unit and that’s back in the pod.”

  “Besides, we need Hunter close enough for us to get to,” Angela agreed.

  “That’s right.” Pauline added silently, But not so close that Valker and his scavengers get to her first. She slipped into the hardshell torso and Angela came away from the comm panel to help her seal it to the leggings.

  * * *

  Back on Vogeltod’s bridge, Valker listened to Victor Zacharias’s message.

  “Pleiades!” he exulted. “That’s a fine ship. And there’s only one man aboard her, a thief, at that.”

  “Unless he’s picked up a crew,” Kirk muttered.

  “Good point,” said Valker. “Let’s break out the weapons.”

  Like everything else aboard Vogeltod, the weapons supply was a hodgepodge of pieces stolen, scavenged, or bartered from other ships. There were four genuine laser pistols, complete with compact power packs attached to their belts. There were two cumbersome laser welders that could cut metal and easily slice flesh, although it took two men to carry each one of them and their bulky power packs. There were a variety of tools such as cordless drills and wrenches that could be used as knives or bludgeons. There was even an old-fashioned air pistol that fired tranquilizing darts, although Valker wondered if the tranquilizer was still potent after all the years the darts had lain unused. Finally, there was a belt of minigrenades, powerful enough to blow down an airlock hatch.

  Valker looked over his grinning crew, each of them now carrying sidearms or tools-turned-weapons strapped to their hips. Two of the men hefted one of the bulky laser welders and its power pack between them. Valker himself had taken a laser pistol and flung the belt of minigrenades across his broad shoulder.

  “You look like a band of real fierce pirates,” he said, laughing.

  “We’re ready for anything,” said Kirk, brandishing a power drill whose bit was almost as long as his forearm.

  “Yeah!” Nicco agreed. “And after we’ve taken these two ships, we get the two babes. Right?”

  Valker had to force his smile, but he said, “Right.”

  SMELTER SHIP HUNTER:

  AIRLOCK

  Standing at the lip of the open airlock hatch, Theo saw clearly the curving flank of Syracuse, the long ugly gash in one of the fuel tank sections, the stumps that had once held the missing command pod, the new antennas he had painted on the adjoining portion of the hull, the backup command pod.

  They were approaching the ship from its top, the side opposite the place where Vogeltod hung mated to Syracuse by the flexible connector tube.

  Theo was in his hard-shell space suit with a new backpack that Dorn had provided; the cyborg stood beside him in a nanofabric suit.

  “The living quarters are on the other side of the pod,” Theo told the cyborg, pointing with an outstretched arm. “The main airlock is—”

  He saw that the airlock hatch was open, subdued red light glowing from it.

  “Is Valker using our airlock?” he wondered aloud.

  “I doubt it,” said Dorn.

  “Then who…?” Theo saw two space suited figures outlined against the airlock’s dim red lighting.

  “Mom?” he called over the suit-to-suit frequency. “Angie?”

  “Theo! We’re coming over to you.”

  “Okay! Great! Make it quick!”

  Theo turned to Dorn. “Tell Ms. Apacheta to goose the fusion drive as soon as we get them aboard. Maybe we can take them in
and get away from here before Valker’s crew can board us.”

  Dorn shook his head inside the inflated bubble hood of the nanosuit.

  “Too late,” he said, pointing.

  Haifa dozen nanosuited men were jetting up from between the spokes of Syracuse and heading straight for them.

  * * *

  Standing at Vogeltod’s main airlock in his nanofabric space suit, Valker heard Theo’s call to his mother and sister.

  “The kid’s still alive,” he growled.

  “And the women are trying to jump over to Hunter,” Kirk said.

  “Let ’em,” Valker snapped. “We’ll get there first. Come on.”

  He squeezed the knob that controlled his suit’s propulsion unit and jetted out of the airlock. Five of his men followed him. He had left Nicco and three others behind to take over Syracuse.

  As they maneuvered through the spokes of the big wheel-shaped Syracuse, Kirk laughed maliciously. “Nicco’s gonna crap himself when he finds the sugarpots ain’t on the ship.”

  “So what?” said Valker. “Once we take over Hunter we’ve got the women, too.”

  He could see Hunter hanging in the emptiness, rotating slowly. There’s the airlock, Valker said to himself. And two people standing in it.

  “Hey, there’s the women,” one of his crew called out.

  Turning slightly, Valker made out a pair of figures in hard suits jetting toward Hunter’s open airlock hatch.

  “Good,” he said. “Let ’em get to the airlock first. We’ll hit ’em while they’re all crammed in there together.”

  “What about hitting one of the auxiliary locks, too?” Kirk asked.

  “They’ll be sealed tight. Why blow a locked hatch when we’ve got one wide open and waiting for us?”

  Then Valker thought a moment. Turning to the two men handling the big welding laser, he said, “Slice a chunk out of the main thruster cone. I don’t want them lighting off their fusion engine and getting away from us.”