“No, I’m… rerouting power for the galley. We have to eat, often. You’ve damaged our power conduits trying to get our EBMs. I must have tripped something accidentally.”
“Show me what you did,” he said. A cold, moist tentacle brushed Lee’s hand on its way to touch the console. Lee jerked away as if it were red hot.“Listen, I don’t have time to answer your questions. If you want this ship to fly, I’m the only one, and you need to let me do my job,” Lieutenant Lee shouted at the Zlōger. The commander whipped an arm up and slapped Lee in the mouth, his claw hooking and tearing at his lip. A scarlet gash spread across Lee’s chin.
“You don’t talk, you don’t eat, you don’t touch buttons, you only fly,” said the emotionless, robotic voice of the plastic box. The whining returned. “I will download computer data.”
The blue Zlōger didn’t return to the captain’s chair but instead found a way to seat himself at the communications post. His eyes swiveled to examine the buttons, lights, images, and the results of manipulating each of them in turn.
Chen Lee wiped the blood from his chin and pressed his knuckles against the slash to slow the hemorrhage. He wiped a few drips off the dashboard and smeared them on his pants leg. The salty, warm fluid on his tongue sent a shudder creeping up his spine. Those blue deca-bastards!
In the transparent screen in front of him, the mirror finish was clean enough to reflect the image of the blue blob just slightly behind him to his left. The short appendages around his mouth waved like antennas, the next pair, his arms, selected different icons and pressed different buttons with deliberate concentration. Two prehensile legs adjusted the screens, lighting, and chair.
Lee saw the red light blinking and placed his hand over it, shielding the indicator from the Zlōger’s view. He touched some icons and the image before him shrank to a few centimeters. To his eyes the shape of the Osprey was easily defined as it approached the shuttle bay below the keel.
“What is that sound?” Commander Zlōger asked, his eyes swiveling around the bridge. Lee pretended not to hear.
“What sound?”
“A hydraulic.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Then your hearing is faulty.” Lee didn’t think beforehand that although the frequency was out of human hearing it might be right in the Zlōger range. He sneaked a look at the image of the Osprey approaching the hold. The double space doors, damaged from Osprey’s emergency landing, now caused a distinctive squeal as they parted. Damaged components within the bulkheads couldn’t be replaced without mooring in a space dock, but since they worked, Jackson hadn’t cared if they were a little noisy.
Lee gently, covertly, touched a control to suspend the action of the doors, stopping the noise, but also refusing entry to the Osprey. His heart beat faster; he could hear it in his ears. The Zlōger could probably hear it too if he could hear the space doors opening.
But Lee had to get the doors open. The Zlōger ship was attached to the docking port; there was no other way. He glanced at Zlōger working over their communication system, downloading Maria Mitchell’s database. His hand crept across the dashboard toward the control switch.
“Keep your claws where I can see them,” the Zlōger told him. Lee slid his hand back, the space doors partway open, the bay depressurized, the captain and crew hovering in the Osprey.
“What’s going on?” Jackson muttered. The space doors stopped only a third open as if they were stuck. “Are the doors screwed up again?” The rest of the crew stretched their necks to look out the window at the belly of the Maria Mitchell. “I can’t get in there.” He tapped the console. “Jackson to Maria Mitchell, come in.” The five of them all exchanged perplexed glances and frowns.
“Maybe they’re busy with the Zlōgers?” Zoe said.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Jackson replied. “Jackson to Maria Mitchell, come in.” Silence.
“Maybe fly by the bow; see if anyone is on the bridge?” Kym asked.
“If there’s a Zlōger on the bridge it might be better he doesn’t know we’re here. He sees us as easily as we see them.”
“Are you sure you can’t get the Osprey in, Captain?”
“We could get stuck or crushed if the doors move. I can’t be sure they’ll stay like that if no one on the bridge answers.”
“Watch the tow line, sir, we’re drifting.” Jackson looked out and noticed his thrusters were not at station keeping and made some adjustments. The ship righted and moved away from the cable. He moved the shuttle twenty meters on the zero axis and hovered under the ventral side of his ship before guiding the craft up under the docking port. The Zlōger shuttle was still docked there.
“Well, we’re not going to float around out here forever. EV suits, everyone.” Each crew member swam to the back of the spacecraft and encased themselves in a heavy, well insulated suit that reminded Jackson of photographs from the 2050s early Mars missions. He double checked the thrusters then also put on an EV suit, tugging it over his day uniform. He hunted for the largest bubble to fit over his head.“Captain?” Kym said, half with curiosity and half with dread, her feet dangling above the deck. She gripped a rail along the upper bulkhead to ensure she didn’t bang her head on the roof.
“You’re going first, Byrd.”
“Sir, I hate spacewalks. They make me sick to my stomach.”
“That’s why you’re out first.” Jackson couldn’t see any other way to get inside Maria Mitchell from the Osprey. “Everyone, stand by for depressurization. All the equipment locked down?” Jackson asked, giving another glance around the cabin. The only thing floating were the people.
When he was sure everyone’s helmet was secure, their oxygen was flowing, and each person had a carabiner attached to the safety line, Jackson reached for a lever high out of easy, accidental reach. He gave it a tug to open an air valve. With helmets on the only sounds were that of themselves all breathing or talking, so the hissing didn’t add to anyone’s anxiety, this time.
Jackson unlocked the door, turned the wheel, then pushed hard. The hatch slid to one side. Before them the underbelly of the ship shielded them from anyone’s view. The Osprey held its position a few meters from the open space doors.
“Head out, Byrd,” he told the engineer. She peered over the threshold and froze. “Byrd.”
“I can’t do it. I can’t!”
“I’ll go first, Captain,” Shellie Barone offered. “I’ve done this a dozen times. It’s a piece of cake. I can help from the other side.”
Kym Byrd thrust herself back into the cabin at those words and grabbed on fast to the hand railing. Jackson thought about ordering Byrd through first, but to hell with orders. He just had to get back on board his ship.
“Very well, Barone, thank you for volunteering. Out with you,” he said. She clipped her carabiner in front of Byrd’s and drifted out of the Osprey. Climbing hand over hand, upside down and sideways, she crept along the cable holding the Zlōger ship. One meter, two meters, and three meters. She floated clumsily around the taught line until a foot touched the edge of one of the doors. She put one hand securely on the rail inside that door, disconnected from the tow line, and hauled herself through the gap.
“I’m in!”
“Can you open the hatch any wider?” Jackson asked.
“Let me see,” and she offered a thumb’s up fist before disappearing into the black hole of the shuttle bay. “There’s no one here,” she said. He could hear her heavy breathing; maneuvering in space took energy and engaged muscles they didn’t use often.
“Captain, they aren’t stuck. They’re intentionally on hold in that position. You want me to override?” Jackson gave the idea a moment of thought.
“No, they must be that way for a reason. I don’t want to find out the hard way. We’re going to follow you in.” Jackson turned to Stone.
“You’re up Zoe.”
“I haven’t done this in two years.”
“Time for a little practice, then. Off you go,” he said, jerking on her carabiner and then pushing her just a bit to move her off the Osprey.
“Oh, oh, god almighty!” she shouted, clinging to the tow cable with her entire body.
“Go, Stone, hand over hand, pull yourself to the hatch,” Jackson ordered. She froze. “Go!” Her hand reached out half a meter and took a hold of the cable, then her body inched behind it. Instead of hand over hand she skipped, reaching her right arm forward and letting herself catch up, while her left-hand white knuckled the cable.
“Come on, Zoe,” Shellie called. “I’ll help you when you get here, come on!”
“Okay, Kym, your turn. I want you over on the Maria Mitchell. Give me your clip,” Jackson told her. She complied. Jackson reached out and slapped it over the tow line and tugged her closer to the door.
“Nice and easy, now, Shellie and Zoe just did it, you can too. Follow their lead.”
Byrd had no words. She looked at Jackson, and he smiled at her through the bubble, nodding. She launched herself out of the hatch and grabbed the line as far away from the Osprey as possible. She hopped along like an orange frog, taking the largest bites possible to move as fast as she was able.
“Come on, Kym, we got you!” one of the others said. “We’ll pull you in.” Jackson watched as the orange shape scrambled onto the deck. She couldn’t go very far while her safety line was still attached, so Shellie drifted out the two meters to unlock it for her.
“Ron.”
“Sir?”
“Captain goes down with the ship. Go,” he said, giving the man a hand to back into. Forced forward, he climbed the rope much as Shellie, hand over hand, rolling around it in zero G, until he could grab a door railing. He unbuckled his latch from the tow line and buckled it to something sturdy inside the bay.
Thomas Jackson always enjoyed EVA missions, but he’d never quite done this before. He didn’t want the Osprey to float away, so he took a 6th cable and attached it to the tow line, the other end to the inner hand railing inside the shuttle. There’d be no way to shut the door or turn off the thrusters, but he couldn’t do anything about those circumstances.
Jackson checked the carabiner for the Osprey, then launched off the hatch and into space. He drifted away toward the Osprey’s bow and felt his heart leap out of his chest. He looked down. His safety cable was attached to him but where was the other end?!
He had attached himself to the Osprey’s cable, and the Osprey was attached to the tow line.
“Captain! Stop fooling around and come in!” Kym said over the intercoms. Jackson felt every stiffened muscle in his body trying to decide whether to cramp or relax. Now it was he who couldn't catch his breath.
He grabbed his own rope, tumbled around it and hand over hand he crawled back to the hatch. With one arm securely around the tow rope, he attached his clip to the correct cable and edged his way to the Maria Mitchell’s shuttle bay.“We can’t pressurize with the door open,” Shellie reminded him.
“Got it. Painter, Byrd, stay suited and haul the Osprey up as close as you can. Signal when you’re done and out of the shuttle bay, and safe in the airlock.”
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