It was a C-10, the largest bulk cruiser ever built by mankind. It was almost as big as a fair-sized asteroid. It was equipped to hold over five hundred people, and had two smaller craft docked to it. It carried three hundred escape pods. It was roughly oval shaped, with small proturbances dotting the craft at random. It was both ugly and beautiful at the same time.
It was also a wreck, smashing itself to peices by its sheer gravity now that the shields were no longer operational to keep it safe from the tiny particles in the vacuum around it that were smashing into the hull.
Dak knew it, and was helpless to stop it. Pieces of metal flew through the zero-gravity air, smashing into him.
He winced as one dug into his legs. He couldn't feel it, but he knew that it would be a bad wound, just from the way it sent him spinning away down the corridor.
He bounced off a wall, and pulled himself back through the corridor, looking for a space suit. Of course, it wouldn't do him much good anyway. He'd never get his legs into a space suit in time if the ship was really tearing apart.
He could only hope to use the space suit for survival if his part of the ship stayed together. If the ship stayed together, then he'd need the oxygen and food inside the space suit.
He rolled through the corridors at unsafe speeds, looking frantically around. Suddenly he saw a bulky space suit, and grabbed it by the helmet.
"Holy Son of a Biscuit-Eating Whale Watcher!" Screamed the occupant of the suit, trying to wrestle free of him.
"Damn! Sorry!" He exclaimed, letting go. The suit careened away, hitting a wall and bouncing back towards him. As it came back the helmet seals came undone, and the helmet drifted off.
"Oh my god!" Muttered the occupants as her hair flared free. "Are you trying to kill me?" She tried to reseal the helmet, but her hair was getting into the seal.
Dak hesitated. Sealed within the suit she would be safe, but it would do nothing to help him. His altruism warred breifly with his common sense, and won.
"Here, let me." He said brusquely, grabbing the hull behind him and pushing off. He caught her in the middle of the hall, and pulled her back to the wall with his momentum. As the wall shuddered behind them he quickly swept her hair into the helmet, bringing it down on the seals and slapping the catch shut. She'd left the catch undone, a sure sign of a dirtsider.
She flipped the mask up so she could see him, and stared at him. "Are you one of the crew?" She asked hesitantly.
He also hesitated, gazing at her. She was pretty, in a tomboyish way. Her nose was short, and freckles adorned it. Her hair was reddish, and her complexion was too, but her eyes were a startling shade of blue.
He nodded firmly, and she went limp against him. "Thank god. You've got to help me. I'm just an engineer. I was being taken to Talox V. I don't know anything about ships!"
"Here, just grab hold of my belt." He told her roughly. He'd hoped for a minute that she could help him, but if she was a dirtsider engineer, then she'd just be dead weight. But he still couldnt leave her here, on her own.
She hesitantly grabbed the loop on his belt, and he took off again.
She was amazed at the speed at which they flowed through the ship. He was bare to the waist, except for the numerous belts around his chest, holding tools and circuit boards. His body was lean and muscled. His legs, as she looked down, were tied together.
"Oh!" She said, glancing back at his head. "D'you want me to untie your legs so you can?"
"No." He said shortly, his arms working furiously, his eyes flashing everywhere at once. "They don't work."
And now that he'd said it, she saw it. He wasn't using them; just his arms. His hands were flashing from handhold to handhold as he propelled them through zero-gravity. He expertly went through doors, and turns, and his hands flashed to keep them moving. His eyes, a flat brown, kept moving, searching for something.
"What are you looking for?" She asked, curious.
"Another space suit!" He replied, snapping it at her. "I need one."
"What's happening to the ship?" She asked him. He shrugged.
"We lost the shields, and now the damn thing's tearing itself apart. Hold on, there's one of the bays!" He crowed it, and slammed through a door, almost tearing her loose.
Now they were in a big room, and the shaking was worse. But she could another spaceship, a small craft that hardly looked larger than a car. "Dammit!" He muttered. "Only one escape pod left!"
He grabbed hold of her shoulder with one hand, and grabbed the small ship with the other. As a door popped open he shoved her inside. Then he got in with her.
It was beyond cramped. It was tiny. He pressed against her, reaching behind her, and the door closed.
Then the humming started, and the small craft stopped tossing. "What happened?" She asked him, trying to look at him.
"The shields are on." He said shortly. "Hold still, I'm trying to do something."
Dak was, in fact, trying to open the cargo bay in order to give them some more room. They could both barely breath as it was.
And he was sure that he was probably killing his legs. Only since he couldn't feel them, he couldn't tell. He tampered some more with the panel, trying to get it working.
"Can you see the big black long tool on my belt?" He asked her.
"Uh...yeah." She replied.
"Can you grab it and hand it to me? It's only held by a loose magnetic charge. Just grab it." He instructed her. She did so carefully, pushing it toward him. He grabbed it.
"Uhh...how long are we gonna be in here?" She asked, fighting back a rising burst of claustrophobia.
"Days. But, uh, if I can get the cargo hold open, we should have some more space. Hold on." She heard crackling noises. She shook her head.
"You aren't tearing into an open panel, are you?" She asked incredulously. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"
"Yeah." He replied. "Only thing is, we don't have any power flow through the box anyways." She heard a sparking, and felt the panel beneath her grind out of the way. "Have to provide some current. Got it?"
"Yeah." She replied, shifting into the space behind her. It was starkly lit with dim bulbs, but it was roomy. Well, not really, but it was better than being crammed in a one-person pod with another person. "What the hell happened to the ship?"
"Felt like a pirate attack." He responded guardedly. "There was laserfire at first, but that ended a while back." He shook his head. "Felt like they dropped us like a hot potato. Maybe we dropped a core, maybe a cop ship showed. Hope it was a cop ship; they'll pick us up."
She tried to relax, but his voice was still guarded. "What aren't you saying?" She asked. He shrugged, still working in the panel, but now grabbing tools seemingly at random.
"If it's a cop ship they'll take us back to earth. If we dumped our core, we're in a hot zone, and we're stuck here for another week." He replied. He hesitated, fishing a tool out of the bundles sticking to him. "A week I can handle. I don't know if I can handle going downside again."
"Born in space, huh?" She asked sympathetically. She'd read about their cases, the people born in space who never liked planets. Who had trouble standing on planets.
"Naw. Born and raised in America." He replied nervously. "It's just thatnever mind." He cut himself off, grabbing for other tools.
She glanced at his legs, floating lifelessly behind him. "Your legs." She guessed, and he glanced at her.
"Yeah." He admitted. "On earth I was a cripplehere, I'm more than a match for anybody. It'sit's not something I'm ready to lose." He glanced at her. There was a guarded look in his eyes.
"YeahI can see that." She replied. "I mean, the way space suits you. The way it'd make your handicap virtually non-existent." He gave her another guarded glance. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry." She apologized, carefully unsealing her helmet and letting it float off her head. He glared at her.
"We hit a gravitating body, you'll want that helmet sealed to a wall." He warned her. She shrugged, doing so.
"Don't like me?" She asked, and he laughed. A quiet, soft laugh.
"No. But you spend too much time out here, you have little patience left for people who don't know the rules. It's not much a matter of like; it's more the fact that you just left a loose item. Loose items are a no-no." He laughed again. "Now I'm treating you like a two year old. That's the first sign youre a real spacer, they say."
He grabbed a handheld viewing unit from his belt, and gazed into it. "Aw, crap. No wonder I didn't hear any more lasers."
"What?" She asked, trying to move forward.
"We rammed the pirate ship. They're both just sitting dead. No blown core, no cop ship. And I'm already picking up distress buoys. We'll have a cop ship out here in a couple hours."
She gave a relieved laugh. "Oh, thank God." Than she glanced at him. "And thank you. II don't even know your name."
"Dak." He said shortly. He gave her an odd glance. She smiled.
"Nordstrom. Emily Nordstrom." Then he made the connection, and slapped his forehead.
"The engineer we were taking out from earth! The one who's been inventing all those damn starship drives! Dang, I just saved a celebrity!" He was laughing. "And I called you stupid! Dang, I must sound like a jerk!" He stopped laughing, and went back to tinkering with the panel.
"You didn't call me stupid." She corrected. "And no, you don't. Not really." She amended. "What're you doing?"
"Just trying to see if I can't intercept some of the broadband waves and find an origin, maybe find another escape pod and connect with them." He replied. "Escape pods are built so that they can piggyback each other, saving energy"
"I know. I built the technology." She replied, and he glanced at her, surprised again.
"That's right, you did." He replied, surprised. "Well...do you know what the problem is with the damn panel? It's shooting me a type five error."
"Is this a trick question? I didn't build the software." She replied. "Just the model. Sorry."
"Dammit!" He muttered. "I need more parts." He turned and began smashing up the SOS beacon.
"Hey!" She exclaimed. He shot her a glance.
"We already got other pods doin' that for us." He pointed out. "We need a piggyback. Pod wasn't designed for two people. Not enough energy for two. The suit'll come in handy, but we NEED another pod." He said it calmly, and she shivered.
"Oh. Right. I hadn't thought of that." She responded blankly. "But if we're not going to be in here long?"
"First rule of survival in space; work to survive as long as you can. If you don't, you often find that you just ran out of time because you didn't know you were on a timer." He began tearing pieces free and attaching them to his belt, with the same single-mindedness. His hands became a blur.
"That sounds awfully bleak. I have to admit, I don't really understand why anybody would stay in a place this dangerous." She said quietly. He glanced at her, finishing up on the beacon and beginning work on the open panel again.
"Space is hard, sure, but it's familiar. Its...life." He told her. He glanced at her. "It's hard for dirtsiders to understand." He said bluntly.
Her nose tilted slightly back. "Dirtsiders? Is that some kind of spacer insult?"
"No more so than calling me a spacer." He replied gruffly. Her cheeks turned pink. "It's just a term spacers have for planet dwellers. Nothing more." He tried to keep his voice flat.
"But it is more. It's an attitude." She replied, mulling over the implications of what he'd said. "Just like 'spacers.'" He glanced at her quizzically. "Oh, of course. When I hear the word spacers I think of arrogant men in uniforms looking down their noses at me simply because I get spacesick."
"And dirtsiders all get spacesick." He replied with a grin. She nodded dryly.
"Exactly. You're getting it now." They shared a grin, and she moved closer to him, keeping a firm grip on the lip of the cargo hatch.
"Could you sort of tell me what you're doing as you do it?" She asked idly. "I sort of hate to float helplessly." He glanced at her, surprised.
"Well, that breaks a few dirtsider stereotypes." He noted with a grin. "Sure. Right now I'm just trying to splice these circuits into a scanner. All the actual hardware is out there, but now I want to scan on a tighter beam so I can find another shuttle. Then we have a drive system, but I need to be able to steer us to another shuttle. First I need a patch to see the shuttles, then I need to get there. No biggie. Simple splice-work."
"Really?" She asked, nodding her head. "Do you have a receiver? Can't you just home in on their SOS beacon?" He froze, staring at her, then his fingers began flying again.
"Sonofabitch. Yeah, we can do that! We can do that!" He said breathlessly. "Saves time, parts, and yeah, got one. We can get there. Okay. We're moving."
The small craft shuddered as it began to move. "Smart, fast thinking. Good thinking. Are you trying to make me look bad?" He asked lightly, and she laughed.
"I'm supposed to have brilliant logical leaps; I'm famous through the galaxy for them." She tried to brush off his words, and he grunted.
"Yeah. Uh, ..." He trailed off, unable to think of anything witty to say. Or, for that matter, anything worth saying at all.
Then they felt the shuddering impact as their pod locked on with another one. Dak touched a green button. "Pod two, this is pod one. This is Dak. Who's this?"
"Dak? Great." Groused the other voice. "This is Tek. What happened?"
"I'm not picking up a blown core. Looks like that filthy Holy Son of a Biscuit-Eating Whale Watcher rammed us."
"Biscuit eating...yeah, that's why my scope says. Damn, I liked that cruiser. I'm trying to pick up another pod."
"Try homing in on their SOS beaconsor better yet, let me do the homing."
"You sure?" Asked the other man warily. His voice was cut through with static, but he sounded like a big man.
"Found you, didn't I?" Asked Dak lightly, cutting off the transmission. He then moved over to the scanners and began manipulating them.
"We're just going to piggyback as many as we can?" She asked nervously. He shrugged.
"You've got something better to do?" He asked in a slightly sarcastic voice. She smiled, shaking her head. The movement pushed her into a wall, and he glanced at her with a grin as she pushed off of it a bit too hard.
"Ouch!" She said, as she bounced into the opposite wall.
"Don't push off." He advised. "Grab and hold. It's more stable." She grabbed hold of a grip on one wall, and stabilized herself. She let out a breath.
"Okay, that works. Thank you." She acknowledged. He smiled slightly.
"It's the first rule of space. Anything bigger than you is more stable than you. Grab hold of it for stability." He touched the thruster controls. "Well, maybe the second or third. But you get the idea."
"One of those important things you laugh at dirtsiders for not knowing?" She asked, and he looked at her sharply, but there was a twinkle in her eye. He nodded. She laughed lightly.
Suddenly all the lights in the cabin dimmed, and he looked up suddenly. "We're docked." He said shortly.
"You mean another pod?" She asked. He shook his head.
"Cop ship." He replied shortly. ***** People swirled around her, most of them asking her questions. The jumble of noise filled her ears as the two officers swept her into their office.
"Ms. Nordstrom." Said the head officer, standing up. "Please, take a seat." She sat. "First off, I would like to congratulate you on escaping unharmed from that dangerous situation. Secondly, I would like to assure you that not all space travel is so chaotic, and that your next trip will in no way resemble this one."
"Thank you, chief." She replied, by rote. "Uh, what happened to the man who saved me?"
A shadow passed over his face. "He was an illegal export. He never received permission to ship out; we've placed him in a level two corrective facility, awaiting placement in a permanent home."
Her face paled. He'd gone to space against the will of the authorities. No wonder he hadn't been looking forward to being grounded. "Can...can I see him?" The chief looked at her disapprovingly. "I...I'd like to thank him for saving me."
"All right." He conceded. "That sounds doable. Immediately afterwards you'll be shipped off on the Concorde, our newest cruiser."
She drew a deep breath. "All right." She said. "I'll do it."
As she was escorted into the facility by two guards she glanced at the guards. They were both robots. You could hardly tell, they looked so human now, except for the eyes. Red, green, purple, they shifted colors quickly, scanning the room with their eyes, which were only rough facsimiles of eyes.
She smiled, a plan suddenly flitting through her mind. "I need tools." She told one robot. He immediately handed her a few tools, and she grinned. "Thanks." She said, pocketing them.
They led her into a tiny cell, where a man sat in a wheelchair. Looking closely she could tell it was Dak, but just barely. His cheeks were sunken, and his skin was pale. His eyes were closed, and his head was tipped back. He looked weak. Any strength that he'd had seemed to have been leeched from him.
She tiptoed forward slowly, and touched his face. "Dak." She whispered. "Wake up."
He started, and opened his eyes, staring at her. "Hello." She said softly.
He grunted in reply, and she moved back, pushing the robot forward. "Hold still." She told it, turning off its power. Then she did the same to the other one. He raised an eyebrow, slowly wheeling his wheelchair forward.
"Listen, I'm getting on a ship, the Concorde, right after I leave here. My only escorts are these robots." She gave him the tools. "If you can reprogram them to think you're me, they'll take you there instead. Here's my passcard; go in by the third dock, it's not manned."
He stared at her, holding the tools and passcard in his hands. "But..." He said slowly, in a voice tinged with fear. "But it's a long way to the ship."
"The robots will get you there." She said with quiet assurance. "Just make them think that I'm you, and you're me, and tell them to go in by the third dock."
He grinned suddenly. It changed his face, bringing back some of the strength she had seen back in the escape pod. He wheeled himself over to the robot, and broke open the panel on its back.
As he worked she carefully began arranging his bedclothes, stuffing pillows under the sheets until it looked like he was under it. When she was satisfied she glanced back at him, and he nodded.
"I changed the chips." He noted with satisfaction, closing the panels on the robots back. Their eyes began to whirl with strange colors again.
"Take Miss Nordstrom to dock three, and avoid all people." She commanded one. It immediately moved behind the wheelchair, and began pushing Dak away.
"Wait." Dak said. It stopped. "Why are you doing this?" He asked softly. She walked over, and knelt beside him.
"Because you saved my life." She said matter of factly. "Because...life on earth is no life for you. You belong in space." A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he leaned forward, kissing her.
"Thank you." He said softly as the robot wheeled him away. The End - or maybe just the beginning. |
