He reached for the card, amazed at how easily his fingers could pry it off the floor. He studied it, then carefully punched the ID number into his computer. Taking control of these things had already become routine. He imagined the power he could wield if he lived here, or if he could just take a few of these androids with him.
I’d need better control inputs, he thought.
It wasn’t obvious which direction on the analog stick would loosen the grip and which would tighten it. He tried one way and watched Cole’s face turn a darker shade of purple. He chuckled to himself and moved the stick the other way.
The human boy fell free and collapsed in a heap.
Walter stepped around the motionless robot to try to rouse him.
He sure hoped he wouldn’t regret saving this loser.
Again.
She was in a starship, but not hers. Human-built. A GU-Class bird. Molly couldn’t tell the exact model from her surroundings. The interior panels looked new—or possibly just incredibly well-maintained. A medical station had been cobbled together and secured against a bulkhead. She could almost see across and into the cockpit, but the strap across her shoulders made it impossible to turn or sit up.
Outside, she heard footsteps; they stomped her way, clanging up the cargo ramp and near her feet. She didn’t have time to scream for help, they arrived so fast.
One of the figures yelled her name.
“Cole?”
He bent over her, his face red, his hair matted down with sweat. “Hold on,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “We’re getting you out of here.”
“What’s going on?” Molly asked. “Are you okay? Your neck looks—”
“I’m fine,” he assured her.
“Thankss to me.”
Molly looked down her body to see Walter fumbling with the straps across her thighs.
“What’s going on?” she asked again.
Cole flipped back the strap across her shoulders and helped her sit up. “No idea and no time to discuss it. We need to get out of here.”
“I ssaved Cole’ss life.” Walter said. “Now I’m resscuing you.”
Molly pried the tape off of her arm and slid the IV needle out with a gasp, mostly from the sight of the metal leaving her flesh. “What’re you saving me from?”
Cole tore open a box of bandages, spilling them everywhere. She watched him pluck one and fumble with the paper. “Whose ship is this?” she asked. “Where’s Parsona?”
Cole grabbed her arm and took her fingers off the wound so he could apply the adhesive strip.
“No idea and no idea,” he whispered. “Our plan was just to get to you. We haven’t had a lot of time to think past that.”
“Company,” Walter told them. He peered at the computer screen, but Molly could hear for herself: the sound of more feet approaching.
Cole reached over and hit the cargo ramp controls, bringing the door up. The stomping outside quickened into a run. Someone yelled, “Hey!” as the ramp came up too far to board.
Molly’s head continued to spin, making her useless in whatever was going on, but she couldn’t stand to be alone, either. She swung her feet off the gurney, steadied herself, then staggered over to join Walter and Cole by the door.
When an angry face flashed in front of the porthole, her wobbly legs nearly gave out.
“Byrne!” She pushed Walter to the side for a better view, holding onto him and Cole for stability. The tall, pale man stood outside, looking at the cargo ramp in a mixture of confusion and fury. When he saw Molly peering through the glass, his eyes narrowed, his lips clamping down into a flat line.
The line turned into an evil smile as he reached to the side of the porthole. Through the door, Molly could hear the hinges of an access panel open, and knew he was about to manually lower the ramp.
“We have to do something,” Cole said, looking around the bay.
“What?” Molly asked. “He’s got the captain’s codes.”
Walter fumbled with his computer while Cole looked around in frustration. Molly remained frozen at the sight of the strange man in the flesh—just as he had appeared in her mother’s fantasy.
Walter hissed. Molly turned to see him smiling—or sneering. The green environment and atmosphere lights above their heads flashed from green to red. Molly spun back to the porthole, confused. Wisps of white could be seen rushing up, swirling like a disturbed fog. The air in the hangar was rushing out through the ceiling; Byrne’s jacket flapped up around his thin shoulders and vibrated there.
Molly watched him peer from the access panel to the opening hangar doors above. He looked back though the porthole at her as his suit settled in the new vacuum outside.
Byrne’s nostrils flared, despite the absence of air.
He appeared extremely annoyed.
“What did you do?” Cole asked Walter.
“Killed him.”
Molly shook her head, her eyes never leaving Byrne’s. “He’s not dead. I don’t think he’s human.” She turned to her two friends. “How are we gonna get to Parsona?”
Cole pointed at the cockpit. “Can we fly?”
“I know where sshe iss parked,” said Walter.
Molly nodded. “Cole, round up some space suits, we’ll still be in a vacuum when we get there. Walter, come navigate.”
Cole headed off to the rear of the ship while a giddy Walter followed her to the cockpit. The two of them settled into the flight seats. Byrne had a 500-series, Molly noticed. The seats were closer together in a narrower cockpit, and duplicate flight controls sat in front of each crew member.
“Don’t touch anything,” she commanded.
Walter nodded and pulled the harness over his shoulders, working it tight. Molly started the warm-up for the thrusters. She wasn’t worried about Mr. Byrne getting inside—overriding the atmosphere sensors could only be done from within the airlock—but she did feel a sense of panic rubbing off from Walter and Cole. Yet again, they needed to get away in a hurry.
And the fancy thrusters were taking forever to check themselves out—too many mechanical systems in this model had given way to solid-state electronics.
“What’s the danger, here, Walter? Who’s after us?”
“That guy outsside. And Sstanley.”
“Our Stanley?”
Walter paused. “All of them,” he said quietly.
Molly cursed under her breath. The thrusters finally went green, and she saw through the carboglass above that the hangar doors were open. The ceiling of the parking chamber, which held up the underside of the moon’s crust, loomed beyond.
“Going up!” she yelled over her shoulder. She directed the rear thrusters down and routed some of their energy through maneuvering channels to the nose jets. The ship lifted slowly and evenly off the ground.
Walter pressed his head to the glass on his side. “That skinny guy issn’t sso happy,” he said, laughing.
“I bet not.”
Cole ran up into the cockpit. “Bad news. Only one suit on the ship. I checked the staterooms and the airlock.”
“Is it an extra-tall?”
“You got it.”
“Okay,” Molly said. “You’ll have to go over to Parsona through the airlock and bring our suits over.”
The cockpit of the GU-500 rose up into the parking cavern where a sea of gleaming hulls spread out in all directions. In the distance, a crane could be seen moving one of the ships further away from them, a new arrival. Several other parking cranes stood idle, but one approached them with a ship in its clutches.