“Okay, Hutch,” he said, “we’re ready to go.”
“Need a couple minutes,” she said.
Matt grumbled under his breath. They were presumably putting on e-suits, getting ready to go down into cargo. But they’d had plenty of time to do that. It was irritating that she hadn’t been ready to move on signal.
“All right.” He didn’t add What’s the holdup? but his voice must have given it away.
“We’re packing,” she said.
Packing? What the hell was the matter with the woman? “Hutch, you have nothing over there we can’t replace.”
“Need my clothes,” she said. “Just be a few minutes.”
He pushed back in his chair. “Goddam women.”
And he waited.
Jon went below to take a last look at the shielding they’d welded to the hull of the lander. More had been placed inside the vehicle wherever possible. It didn’t look pretty, and it wasn’t much, not in the surrounding electromagnetic maelstrom, but it was something.
The minutes dragged. Didn’t she realize the monster in the cloud could change its mind at any moment and fry them all? What the hell was she doing over there?
Then, finally, she was back. “Okay, Matt. All set. You’ll want to hurry up, though.” Urgency in her voice. That’s right. Take your time and now let’s hustle. He wanted to say something, but best not. Not with Frank listening.
“Thank God,” he said. “Jettison the lander.”
Since the Preston had no power, Hutch and Antonio would have to release the locks and the cargo hatch manually. That would expose them to the outside radiation, but she’d said not to worry, she could take care of it. Probably she had done much the same thing he and Jon had, taken down some of the interior shielding and built a shelter near the hatch that they could hide behind.
The Preston cargo hatch was located on the port side. He watched it open. The lander, like the ship, had lost power, and they needed to get it out of the way. Even in zero gravity, it retained its mass, and would therefore require some serious pushing. Hutch and Antonio would be behind their makeshift shielding pulling on lines to drag the lander through the launch doors. He was relieved to see it emerge and begin to drift away.
Matt opened his own cargo door.
Hutch called over. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Incredible. She was annoyed at him.
“I hope you got all your blouses,” he told her.
“Say again, Matt?”
“Nothing.” The McAdams lander slipped out through the hatch and started toward the Preston.
“Jim, don’t forget they have no gravity over there.”
“I know.”
It crossed the twenty or so meters that separated the two ships and entered Hutch’s cargo section.
He visualized Hutch and Antonio scrambling on board, looking around doubtfully at the makeshift shielding. Then Jim alerted him that the lander had sealed. The vehicle made its exit and started back. Moments later the McAdams took it aboard.
JON WAITED BELOW in cargo, watching it come in. He couldn’t see into the vehicle because of the shielding he and Matt had welded around it. As soon as it had cleared the launch doors, he closed them. It eased into its berth, and he started the pressurization procedure. It would take about two minutes before they could leave the passenger cabin.
Except that the shuttle opened up immediately. Antonio was wearing an e-suit. He jumped down from the lander, looked around, and spotted Jon. He literally bolted in his direction. There was no sign of Hutch.
He was carrying something. A piece of cloth, looked like.
Jon started to wave, and mouthed hello. Was going to add Glad to see you. But he shook his head, no time.
Jon glanced back at the lander. Nobody else was getting out. Antonio unraveled the cloth and held it up for him. A message was scrawled on it: GET GOING. PRESTON ABOUT TO BLOW.
He shook his head. That couldn’t be right. Again he tried to form words that Antonio could read. What’s going on? What do you mean?
The journalist looked directly into his eyes and opened his mouth to form one unmistakable word: Boom.
That was enough for Jon. He got on the allcom, the ship’s internal communication system, which Frank couldn’t intercept, and called the bridge. “Matt.”
“They okay, Jon?”
“Antonio says there’s a bomb ready to go off over there. Move out.”
“What?” He added an expletive. “Tell him to grab hold of something.” The main engines came online.
Jon gave a thumbs-up, and Antonio tried to hurry back to the lander, where he could belt down and ride out the acceleration. But the ship was already moving, turning away, power building in the engines. Jon clung to a safety rail, while Antonio lost his balance and slid aft, into storage, where he grabbed hold of a cabinet door handle.
He looked again around the launch bay. Where was Hutch?
LIBRARY ENTRY
When you went away,
The stars and moon,
The voices in the tide,
The kivra gliding above the trees,
All were lost.
—Sigma Hotel Book
chapter 39
JON LOOKED DISMAYED. “Matt,” he said, “stay off the commlink. Don’t try to talk to him.”
“Why?”
“Because it might be overheard.”
“Well, if that critter hasn’t figured out by now that something’s wrong, it’s pretty dumb.” But he complied. At the moment there was nothing to be gained by talking.
Just clear out.
He couldn’t go to maximum thrust, with people running around the launch bay. But he put on as much acceleration as he dared. A few bumps and bruises were better than getting caught in an explosion, and who the hell’s idea was it anyhow to plant a bomb on board the Preston? “Jon, how much time do we have?”
“Don’t know.” Jon grunted, straining to hang on to the bar.
“What kind of bomb?”
“Don’t know that either.”
“What do we know?”
“Matt,” he said, “I haven’t seen Hutch yet.”
The AI cut in: “Electrical activity’s picking up.”
They were going to get another bolt up their rear ends. He turned onto a new course. Jon grunted but hung on. Starships weren’t like aircraft. Not nearly as maneuverable, because you don’t have an atmosphere to help you do flips and turns. All Matt could do was roll around and fire attitude thrusters.
“I think we’ve got another eye forming.”
“Not surprised.” He changed course again. And fired braking rockets.
“Hey.” Jon did not sound happy. “What are you doing?”
“Two of them, in fact. No, three.”
“It’s getting ready to shoot at us, Jon. I guess it’s figured out—”
The sky flared.
“Close,” said Jim. “Building again.”
He angled off in another direction and heard Jon yell. Heard something crash.
“Sorry. Can’t help it.”
“Do what you have to.”
Another bolt ripped past. It illuminated the hull and was gone.
At the same instant the sky behind them exploded.
“That was the Preston,” said Jim.
He turned again. And took her hard up.