Hunter answers, “They were never pirates, Stets. It was a setup from the start.”
Jack lowers the portable and stares into the faces around him, knowing and feeling and accepting that this may be one of the last times they are all alive in the same room.
He has an idea. It’s reckless and desperate, but it’s something.
“Dino,” he says, “come with me. Everyone else, forward airlock. We’ll be there soon.”
Moments later, Jack and Dino are on the other side of the third level, inside food storage, sweating from a hard sprint. Dino props one of the suspension cases open while Jack hangs in above the waist to dig through several hundred pounds of cans. He tosses them over his shoulder. A few smash open and leak on the floor. He empties half the container before he finds what he’s looking for. The rifles are in hard plastic cases, protected from the weight of the cans. He hands one to Dino and opens the other. Glossy lightweight barrels and wooden stocks. They feel more like toys than deadly weapons. Both are early-model laser rifles, the kind infamous for overheating and blowing up, not the best choice, but even with his connections they were expensive and hard to secure.
Jack says, “Alright. Let’s hurry.”
They charge across the third level and practically dive into the forward Zero-G shaft, shoving off the walls and soaring downward. As he drops out of the first floor ceiling, he grips one of the handles and swings his body into the hall and back to gravity like a practiced gymnast. He hits the floor in midstride, Dino right behind him. The prep chamber door whips open and they raise their rifles as the pirates—soldiers, mercenaries, bounty hunters, whatever they are—come through the airlock. Caught in the middle are Lana, Justin, Stetson, and Hunter.
“Down!” Jack shouts.
The crew hits the deck.
The pirates aim their rifles at Dino and Jack. As before, there are five. They wear no helmets this time. Jack recognizes the leader with the facial scar. They are calm, stone-faced.
“Lower your weapons!” Jack says. “Now! Put them down! I said down!”
The pirates don’t move.
Jack is vaguely aware of someone touching the center of his chest.
The pirates haven’t budged or said a word. The one with the scar smirks.
No one is touching his chest. His portable is vibrating.
Careful to keep his rifle pointed at the leader’s heart, he clicks the portable with his left hand.
“What are we doing here, Jackie?” Dandy says.
“Tell your men to back off.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re going to get yourself hurt.”
“You’re on that ship. I want you here.”
“That’s sweet, pal, but I’m very comfortable.”
“If you were going to kill us, your men would’ve done it already.”
“Jackie, that’s nutso. You’re being nutso.”
“Come aboard. Or I cut these people in half. They won’t know what happened, but you and I will.”
The leader is no longer smirking. His stance is a little stiffer.
“Call my bluff, Dandy. I dare you.”
“Jackie. If you kill anyone, I will pull to a safe distance and blow your ship to smithereens.”
“Yeah. And you’ll destroy that thing in my cargo hold.”
“You don’t even know what it is.” His voice takes an impatient edge.
“That’s true. But you do. And I want answers.”
“We all want answers, Jackie. But sometimes there just aren’t any.”
“Why don’t you come aboard and we’ll chat about it. Before I lose my patience.”
“Are you going to count backwards now, Jack?”
“No, Dandy. I’m not.”
“This is very foolish.” His voice is flat now. Humorless.
There’s a long pause.
Finally Dandy sighs and says something Jack can’t quite make out. It sounds a little like Orion.
Then Jack is on his back and there is blood in his eyes. Dino lies beside him on the floor, and there’s blood on Dino too. Someone pulls Jack upright by the lapels. The leader. Jack wobbles. He takes a step, nearly falls, tripping on bits of debris. He throws a hand forward and notices shards of shrapnel protruding from his palms. Sound comes back, and he sees his friends crouched on the ground, men standing over them with rifles to their temples.
How’d he get on the floor?
The men pull Dino upright. He and Jack stand there, swaying, fighting for consciousness.
Someone else is in the room. Someone in colorful clothes. Bright red hair.
Jack plucks a few splinters from his hands.
Where did this wood come from? There’s no wood onboard.
The rifle.
Did he fire? Did his rifle backfire?
“Jackie,” someone says.
Jack blinks.
His name is Jack, not Jackie. He hates that fucking nickname.
They shot first.
Someone pinches his cheeks. “Wake up, sonny boy!”
He coughs, takes a deep breath, coughs again.
They shot me.
I’m shot?
I’m dead.
No. Not yet.
Not shot.
Not dead.
They shot his rifle and it exploded. So fast he was on his ass before he knew what happened. Dino’s too.
“Amateurish,” a high voice says. And Dandy holds up what appears to be a melted barrel. He laughs, hot sour breath in Jack’s face. “That was lucky. I told him to kill you.”
Chapter 18
The effects of the blast recede in waves. Pain rushes in. A burning up and down his arms. He misjudged. A stupid move. He thought Dandy wanted the crew alive, but why would he need the entire crew? Dandy called his bluff.
Lana checks their wounds. Some third-degree burn patches on their inner arms, plus a series of lacerations. Nothing life-threatening, at least. The front of Dino’s hair has burned completely off, including his eyebrows. Their jackets helped protect their arms, the sleeves shredded into tassels.
Dandy leads them to the cargo hold, his mercenaries walking behind with rifles aimed. He stays in front and orates. “Answers,” he says. “You want answers.” His wrists flip this way and that and Jack tries to focus on the words. “Try this. Aliens exist. Mind blowing, yes?” His getup is theatrical as always, a mix of antiquated French and Japanese with a dash of American showgirl glitz. He wears a green sort of kimono with long sleeves, a red cape, and puffy white cuffs, and his hair has been made into an intricate nest of shining orange braids. “And you, Jackie, have a piece of extraterrestrial technology sitting in your cargo hold.” Fake purple eyelashes, painted white cheeks, lips a glossy smear the same color as his hair. Jack wonders if he does this all himself or if one of his grunts went to beauty school.
What did he just say? Extraterrestrial technology?
So the story on the news was true.
The hallway lights seem to be shaking.
He works very hard at putting one foot in front of the other.
“Crazy, yes?” Dandy says. “What’s crazier is how you managed to steal it from a top secret military station. Not before murdering a handful of workers, I might add. You’ve got a lot to answer for, Jackie.”
They enter the cargo hold. The box seems large and small at the same time, an obelisk in an empty cathedral. Its surface appears almost liquid in the lighting.
“Why?” Jack says.
“How’s that?” Dandy says.
“Why steal it? You’ll never find a buyer.”
Dandy laughs. “Sell it? Oh no. We’re going to turn it on.”
“You’re insane,” Lana says.
“Genius is often mistaken as such,” Dandy says, grinning.