Space Cowboys & Indians (Cosmic Cowboys Book 1)

by Lisa Medley

  The cable was taut. He’d slide down it pretty easily once he pushed off. He just had to make sure he pushed off hard and straight. Even the slightest twist and he’d spin his way across like the stripe on a barber pole. Cole checked the trolley and hand brake again. It was awkward with the gloves but there was no other way around it. The last thing he wanted was for the cable to snag or burn through his gloves. If that happened, the suit would be compromised and that would be that.

  “Still good out there?” Noah asked again.

  “Yeah. Peachy.”

  “Fifty-seven minutes of oxygen left,” Tessa offered.

  “Right. Pushing off.”

  Cole took a precious breath, bent his knees as much as the suit would allow, and pushed forward. He managed to keep himself upright at least as he began his slow descent down the cable. Though he was latched to the cable, the reality of being surrounded by the vast unknown overwhelmed him. He caught himself starting to hyperventilate seconds before Tessa warned him.

  “Cole—” Tessa said.

  “I know. I’m trying,” he said before she finished.

  “Cole, we’ve got your helmet camera up on our monitors. We’ll see everything you see. Just go nice and easy,” Noah said.

  “Easy is my middle name.” He could almost feel Tessa’s stifled retort as he eased nearer the anchor.

  “Ten more feet, Cole,” Noah said.

  “Roger that.”

  Cole activated the hand brake and pulled himself the last few feet until his own feet touched down on the surface. “One small step—”

  “Two hundred dollars for former astronaut quotes. You have to come up with something more original than that, cowboy,” Tessa interrupted.

  Cole unclasped the carabineer from the cable and attached his surface tether, his heart finally slowing to a more normal pace now that he was on solid ground. “’Some people call me the space cowboy.’” Cole sang.

  “That is what you want your legacy to be? The Steve Miller Band?” Tessa asked.

  “You’ve shot down all my other options, precious. At this rate, I’m going to be losing money on this trip just by talking.”

  “Probably not the first time your mouth got you into trouble,” Tessa said and laughed.

  A little too close to the bone, but Cole let it go. The malice was gone from her tone. An improvement. Maybe she was actually concerned for his safety. Maybe if he survived this little side trip, they could start over fresh. The tether was rolled up inside his backpack. He had around a hundred feet of cordage. Luckily, the bot hadn’t made it all that far. Orienting himself, he spotted the bot and took his first tentative steps toward it. The surface felt like a hard-packed sendero under his boots. He kicked at a grapefruit-sized rock, and it went sailing, trailing a little cloud of dust behind it. A surprisingly satisfying effect.

  Ever so slowly, he made his way to the bot. Only his ever-decreasing oxygen level kept him from exploring. The realization that he was the first man ever to set foot on an asteroid did not escape him. He considered the countless loose surface samples and how easily he could fill the bot after he righted it. There had to be a small fortune right here within his reach.

  “Don’t even think about it, Cole,” Tessa said. “Right the bot and get back. In and out.”

  Cole bit his tongue. So many witty comebacks. She brought out the worst in him, no doubt. He reached down, carefully grasping the bot by two legs, and pulled it upright. Near weightlessness had its benefits. Once it settled, he untangled the bot’s tether and opened the little cargo hatch. A few samples weren’t going to hurt anything. He had a half hour of oxygen left, plenty of time to get back.

  “Holy shit. Cole, get back. Right now,” Tessa said, the alarm in her voice raising the hair on the back of his neck.

  “Tessa, it’s only a few samples. The hold is almost full. We’re good,” Cole said.

  “Cole, look up. Eleven o’clock. Haul your ass back to the cable and get in here. You’re not alone,” Noah said.

  Cole snapped his head up and scanned the surface. A ship rose up from the blind side of the asteroid then crawled up the crest, settling like a mantis on six metallic legs. Cold fear coiled inside his chest, and his oxygen alarm sounded as he gulped in great lungfuls of air.

  “Move it, Cole! Get back to the ship,” Tessa demanded in his ear. For once, he agreed with her. He grabbed his tether line and pulled himself back, fist after fist, eating up the bungee as quickly as he could. This was no place for a meet and greet. While the scientific side of him said he was passing up an incredible opportunity, the side that had kept him alive these past thirty-six years told him to get the fuck back to the ship. Yeah. He was listening to that side.

  He looked back over his shoulder as he reached the harpoon loop to see the ship gaining on him. The ship picked its way across the asteroid’s terrain much more gracefully than his mining bot had. Slow, steady, and predator-like. A small cockpit seemed to sit atop the ship. He couldn’t tell if it was manned or remote controlled as his bot had been. He took some comfort in the fact he hadn’t been fired upon. Yet. Odds were the ship’s occupants, or owner, were as curious about him as he was of it.

  Probably.

  Remaining exposed on the asteroid, however, with fifteen minutes of oxygen left, wasn’t the ideal. Much longer and he was sure to enjoy a close encounter of the sixth kind from Hynek’s scale: death of a human or animal associated with an UFO sighting. He just wasn’t sure which one of them was the UFO.

  Cole latched onto the harpoon cable and pushed off hard to begin his accent back to his ship. The urge to turn to see if he was being pursued was strong. Somehow, despite his hammering heart, he lasered his focus on the ship’s plank, which he’d stepped off nearly an hour ago.

  “Can you see what’s happening back there,” Cole asked.

  “Keep moving, Cole. The ship is hovering over the bot. Maybe examining it,” Noah said. “Tess is in the hold waiting for you. As soon as you’re free, I’m pulling the harpoon, and we’re out of here.”

  “Best plan I’ve heard all day. You are snapping pics of our visitor, right?”

  “Until the hard drive is filled.”

  Cole’s oxygen alarm began sounding steadily, a five minute warning. He pulled himself along the line as quickly as he could and prayed for no suit or glove snags. So close! Ten feet. Five.

  The outside cargo door opened with a swoosh. Cole grabbed the outside bar grips, pulling himself inside as the ship began to shimmy, nearly knocking him back out. He turned to close the airlock and saw the alien ship now resting on its side near the harpoon anchor, seemingly facing them. There was no obvious-looking weaponry visible, but then, he was only capable of thinking in human terms. God only knew what was inside or attached to the ship before him.

  Cole closed the hatch door and twisted the airlock closed. Thirty seconds later, the cargo bay door opened and he fell to his knees, his oxygen depleted. Tessa worked at his helmet locks in what seemed like slow motion. Latches clicked and snapped around his head as she toiled to relieve him. His vision began to tunnel down to a bright, hot pinprick of light surrounded by blackness. Three to six minutes until brain damage from lack of oxygen occurred. How long would it be for him?

  Tessa snatched the helmet over his head, clipping his nose on the way off. He didn’t even have the energy to complain. Instead, he sucked in a great gasp of air and immediately began hacking it back out. Hyperventilation.

  “Easy, Cole. Slow. Easy. In and out. You’re fine, now.”

  Easy for her to say. Still, her hand on his back soothed him even through the many heavy layers of his suit.

  “You guys are going to want to get up here and lock in. Soon would be good,” Noah said over the sound system.

  “Let me help you.” Tessa began unzipping and unlatching his suit with deft hands since Cole’s shaking hands were currently useless. He couldn’t even manage to get his gloves off.

  “Sit,” Tessa demanded. Cole sat, than
kful for the generated gravity guiding him downward to the chair, since he didn’t have the energy to do much else.

  Tessa pulled his suit down off his shoulders, and then pulled off first his left, then his right glove. Cole flexed his hands and then clenched them into fists, his grip weak.

  “What happened to your knuckles?” Tessa asked.

  “A disagreement that needed settling.”

  She shook her head slightly and tugged at his sleeves until he pulled his arms free. “Stand.”

  With effort, Cole stood, and she shimmied his suit down his torso. She kneeled before him, unbuckled his weighted boots, and tugged at them until his feet were free. “You could help a little here.”

  Cole smiled. “I could, but it’s not every day a beautiful woman kneels at my feet.”

  “Fuck you, Cole,” Tessa yanked the suit from his leg and stood abruptly. So much for starting over. She was right. His mouth had gotten him into trouble through the years.

  The ship shuddered hard, and the gravity cuff whined as it came to a halt. “What the hell is happening?” Cole asked, already feeling the effects of the ceased cuff.

  “We’ve stopped accelerating. The cuff stops when we stop. How could we stop accelerating?”

  “For God’s sake, could you two get up here already? We have a world of shit coming up,” Noah said.

  ***

  Tessa and Cole worked their way back to the helm as quickly as they could. She saw the problem, or one of them, at least, on the rear monitor. “What is that?”

  “You want the scientific term or what I think it is?” Noah asked.

  “What do you think it is?” Tessa replied.

  “A big fucking hole,” Noah said, his face ashen. “And that’s the rear view. Look at this asswipe.” Noah flipped back to the front monitor and zoomed in.

  The alien craft had extended arm-like projectiles and was attempting to grasp hold of their tether. Whether to pull them in or detach them was the question.

  “What’s he doing?” Cole asked.

  “So we’re assuming it’s a he?” Tessa asked.

  “I had a fifty-fifty shot, Tessa. Either way, I don’t want to be its bitch. Noah, can you detach the tether?”

  “That’s the thing. I’ve been trying to. And, as of thirty seconds ago, we’re accelerating again…backward,” Noah said.

  Tessa climbed into her captain’s chair and locked in. “That’s not possible.” She checked her gauges and monitors. “There’s no rear thrust engaged.”

  Noah shook his head. “Nope. It’s that hole. It’s pulling us toward it.”

  Chapter Seven

  “The tether is going to rip the nose off the ship if we don’t detach!” Tessa yelled.

  “I’m aware of that. Feel free to try again,” Noah said. “A few more blows on the harpoon hook and our new asteroid friend is going to detach it for us.”

  “Not soon enough,” Cole said. “Look.” He pointed to the rear monitor.

  The hole turned in a whirlpool-like swirl, pulling in space dust and debris, building like a slow-motion tornado. Rocks and dust from the asteroid’s surface began to peel off, like a scene from the Texas Dust Bowl years, ever faster before their eyes. The ship creaked and moaned under the strain until Cole noticed the tether slacken briefly.

  “Are we free?” Cole asked.

  Tessa zoomed in on the harpoon anchor and checked the distance to the asteroid. “The asteroid is gaining on us. That’s why there’s slack.”

  “How is that even—”

  A rock slammed against the helm’s curved observation window. Then another. And another until they pelted like sleet against the ship. The sound reminded him of sleeping in his Alaskan mining trailer in a hail storm, only way more potentially deadly.

  “How many hits can that window take?” Cole asked.

  “The heat shields will break off before the window cracks. Either one is a death sentence,” Noah said.

  “I propose we do something else then,” Cole offered.

  “Such as—” Noah said.

  “Look out!” Cole ducked instinctively as the alien craft disengaged from the asteroid and swept past them toward the swirling space whirlpool.

  A quick switch to the rear monitor showed the alien craft disappear into the void like a sick drain cleaner commercial. Pressure built inside the ship as the hole pulled them closer. As they reached the edge, the ship began to spin.

  “Lock in, Cole. Lock in now!”

  Cole scrambled back to the lounge chair, fighting the bucking ship all the way. He managed to lock his feet under the boot bars and pulled the buckle closed across his waist. Out the side viewing window, rocks of ever-increasing size peeled from the asteroid and raced by them. It was the ones he felt slamming against the ship that worried him most.

  The previously quiet ship sounded like a war zone, and they were battling an enemy of nature they couldn’t possibly understand. This was more than likely the end. It didn’t take much of a problem to kill a man in space. And this?

  This was a big fucking problem.

  “What if we hit the forward thrusters?” Noah asked.

  “We rip the nose cone off, or we slam into the asteroid,” Tessa said.

  “Do it!” Cole yelled, from the back. “Turn them on and veer right. Do something. Even if it’s wrong.”

  Tessa gave Noah a brief nod. Action—any action—was better than just waiting to die. He heard the thrusters ignite, and the ship gave a great lurch forward, only to stall immediately.

  “More!” Noah yelled over the growing whine of the thrusters trying to reignite.

  “There is no more,” Tessa said. “The sensors are screwed. Everything’s wonky. We’re done.”

  The ship began to spin as it was pulled into the whirlpool. Blackness overtook them, and the only glow was of the few still functioning lights by the grab bars, lighting a path through the cabin like an airliner exit track. The ship spun so fast, Cole felt the gravity return to the cabin intermittently as his body grew heavy then light again.

  He fought for consciousness, keeping his eyes wide open. His hands ached from the death grip he maintained on the armrests as the ship shuddered violently. Total breakup of the ship was imminent. The last remaining lights winked out, and they were plunged into complete and utter darkness.

  Cole held his breath. Waiting for the end.

  He’d finally made it to space. Only to die there.

  Time seemed to suspend in the darkness. The only sound was the creak and yaw of the straining ship.

  Minutes later, a blinding white light snapped him from his despair. Squinting against the harshness of the light, he waited for his eyes to adjust as he stared toward the window. Black spots danced around his field of vision, but one spot—one bluish-white spot—finally came into crystal clear view.

  “Earth?” he asked, incredulous.

  “How is that possible?” Noah asked.

  “We were only in the hole for what? Five? Ten minutes? Now we’re within reach of Earth’s atmosphere? What the hell did we fall through?” Tessa asked.

  “Can you ignite the thrusters now?” Cole asked.

  Tessa and Noah tore their gaze from their home planet and got back to the business of piloting the ship. After several failed attempts, the ship continued to be drawn toward the Earth, regardless of their efforts to control their path.

  “We’re coming in way too hot. We’re almost to the Karman line. We’re going to burn up in the atmosphere, if those heat shields got damaged. I can’t imagine how they didn’t with the beating they took,” Tessa said, leaning forward to gain a wider peripheral outlook. “Cole, can you see any bits of the asteroid or the alien ship on your side?”

  “Nothing. Clear skies both sides.”

  “Can you get a reading on the heat shields, Noah?”

  “Nothing is working. At this point, we’re along for the ride.”

  ***

  Silence filled the cabin. Knowing they were going to die,
drowning in darkness was somehow more comforting than watching it happen in slow motion. Tessa was not good with letting things happen. Not good at all. There had to be something they could do to affect their outcome.

  “What about the landing parachutes? Can we deploy them manually? To slow us down as we near the surface?” Tessa asked.

  “Theoretically? Yes. But that means one of us has to be down in the cargo hold to throw the lever. If we get the power back at the last possible second, we couldn’t pull off a landing up here with only one of us at the helm,” Noah said.

  Seconds ticked by in the ensuing quiet.

  “I’ll do it,” Cole said. “I’m the third wheel here, anyway, now.”

  “There’s no gravity back there anymore, Cole. If we get power back, you could get tossed around pretty hard, maybe even seriously injured,” Noah said.

  “At this point, it seems like the lesser of evils. I’ll do it. How long until impact, and how will I know when to release the chutes?”

  “Leave the bay door open. I’ll yell back when it’s time. It’s like we’re on some sort of cosmic slide. At this rate of perceived speed? I’m thinking fifteen minutes tops.”

  “All right.” Cole unbuckled and let himself float up from the seat then pushed off toward the cargo hold. Ironic he was getting the hang of all this just in time to die.

  As he opened the cargo door, Tessa called back. “Good luck, Cole.”

  “Luck is my middle name, precious.”

  ***

  Tessa didn’t know which was worse, being Cole in the back, unable to see or, sitting here in the front, helpless as they passed through the atmosphere. She gripped the useless controls out of habit and held on, waiting to burst into flames at any moment.

  “You did good, Tessa. Thanks for the ride,” Noah said.

  A lump clogged her throat, and all she could do was nod in agreement as her eyes burned. She couldn’t look at him because she refused to burst into tears in her final moments. Tessa aimed her gaze ahead and sucked in a long breath.

  The ship sailed past the imaginary Karman line and into Earth’s atmosphere. For several long moments, the Earth’s gasses obscured their view. When they broke through, as from a thick fog, the surface came into focus.