"Go back to fantasyland," growled Bennet. "Dixon. Tell me how you fucked up?"
"I needed to secure my own air supply first."
"Why?"
"Because I'm under extra stress and increased exertion. Not doing so could kill us both."
"If this had been a…" Bennet glanced over at the underwater set and rolled his eyes. "A goddamn whatever, you'd be dead because you panicked."
"I didn't panic."
"Oh, you didn't? You acted perfectly calmly and rationally?"
"No…"
"You goddamn panicked." He shoved a finger right between my eyes. "You acted, but you didn't think. The impulse was right but the instincts were all wrong."
"I'm sorry…"
"Get this gear loaded up in the truck. I'm going to go call our boss and tell him this was a stupid idea."
When Sanjay and I finished loading the equipment, Bennet was standing in the middle of the parking lot with a cigar in his mouth staring up at the night sky.
I left Sanjay to sulk by the truck as I walked over to Bennet.
The only light was the stars and the orange glow of his Arturo Fuente, a rare indulgence. I stood there in silence, letting him have his moment of peace.
"Do you want to die up there?" Bennet asked.
"You mean like of old age from a heart attack as I have zero-g sex with a couple of space hookers?"
This got me a blast of blue smoke in the face. "Let me rephrase the question. Do you ever want a chance to go up there?"
"Yes. Hell, yes. Without a doubt."
"Then next time you do what you're trained. Not what your little impulses tell you. What were you trained to do?"
"Secure my own air supply any way I can."
"Then what?"
"Lend assistance."
"Then what?"
"Get to safety."
"What happens when you skip step one?"
"I jeopardize the mission?"
"People die, David. People die."
79
Reaction
Through the darkness, underneath my gasping breath, somewhere beyond my panic — my body reacts. I don't think. I don't analyze. I let instincts take over — not the ones I was born with, but the hard-earned ones from spending countless hours at the bottom of a practice pool, floating in mid-air in the Vomit Comet with a blacked-out helmet or dropping from an airplane with my eyes closed and no sense of up or down.
This is what Bennet tried to drill into us. It's not enough to be clever in a tight spot. Survival depends on not having to think.
Right hand goes to the pouch on my thigh and grabs the plastic stick. Left hand probes my side, searching for the spray of air… there it is.
Put my rubbery fingertip on the leak.
Push the yellow gooey plastic stick into the hole.
Keeping pushing.
This is just like fixing a tire. Except I think the puncture went through the passenger.
One step at a time.
Let the stick do its job.
The hissing is starting to slow. That's good or the air is completely gone.
Wait a beat… take a breath.
Yep, there's air in here.
I'm still spinning.
Spread my arms wide and slow down.
Something white is flying towards me fast.
Deep breath.
Alright. I'm spinning less. There's the white thing again.
It's an cosmonaut in an EVA pack going full speed.
Is this a rescue?
No.
This is an attack.
That's probably Domnin heading straight at me while Yablokov is somewhere with a gun. Not Bennet's gun, but some specially modified thing with a wide trigger for an astronaut glove.
Damn it. They shot me.
Stay cool, David.
Turn your body so the suitcase is facing towards them. Use it as a shield.
Jesus Christ. I'm using a nuclear bomb to block gunfire.
"OPS, this is David. I've been hit. I have the hole in the suit sealed. I have a hostile inbound. Question; what happens if a bullet hits the nuke?"
Lewis takes the comm. "The slapper detonators won't do anything. Hexanitrostilbene is very stable. But if you get a leak in the plutonium casing that could cause a contamination issue… but you're in a space suit. However, if the bullet hits the plutonium and goes through you… well… you'll be dead too soon to care."
"Right. I'm going to assume these assholes would rather not put a hole in the bomb, so I'm using it as a shield."
I spin until my suit jet stabilizes my rotation so I'm facing away from the K1.
BAM!!! Something — probably Domnin — just slammed into my back.
He's trying to pull the case away from me.
The strap is slipping over my head as he lifts it free.
Hold up… let him.
I go limp and allow Domnin to get the case off my shoulder. As he slides it along my arm, I grab the strap with my right hand and give it a yank.
Although this doesn't free it from his grasp, it sends me flying backwards behind him where I hit his EVA pack.
I slip my left arm under his left shoulder, grappling him from the back.
Alright, I don't think he saw this move coming — neither did I.
Now what? In any moment Yablokov is going to start shooting, regardless if his boy is in the way.
The world starts to spin as Domnin activates the thruster on his pack.
Flames lick my visor and I quickly let go as his side rocket nearly burns a hole in my suit.
Damnit! Dumb move on my part. He almost melted through. Good thing this stealth suit is heat resistant.
He's already flying back to the K1 with the nuke.
My suit rockets have only a small amount of burn left. Better make it a good one.
I light them up and chase after him.
From my left thigh pouch I pull out the black blade used to cut through straps and anything else that gets in the way. It's my only weapon.
BAM! I hit the back of his EVA pack.
I quickly grab the handle on the top with my right hand and use it like a pommel horse to swing over him.
With the knife blade in my left fist, as soon as I see his visor, I slam it into the plastic as hard as I can.
The tip goes in about an inch, just over his eye.
Domnin goes through a range of emotion from terror to elation as he realizes the blade stopped short of touching him and the self-healing polymer in his helmet has sealed around the puncture.
Enjoy the moment, pal. I know how these helmets are made.
I give the knife a twist and the slit ruptures, cracking the glass. His entire face shield explodes.
The blood vessels on his skin rupture and blood pours out his nose and eyes. The poor son of a bitch made the fatal mistake of trying to hold his breath in a vacuum.
CRACK! I feel the vibration of something — probably a bullet — as it hits the top of Domnin's EVA pack.
I push myself backwards so his body and the jetpack are between me and the K1 — which is growing closer real fast.
We're heading towards the base of the main tower, below the upper EVA airlock where Yablokov has found a position to take shots at me.
We're moving a hell of a lot faster than I'd like. There's no time to try to commandeer Domnin's rocket pack. I can only get ready to use him as a human air bag.
BAM!!! We slam into the module. It feels like I just fell off a house and landed on the sidewalk.
BANG!!! The nuke just bounced off the outer wall and ricocheted into my shoulder.
Shit… we're all bouncing backwards.
Damn you, Newton.
Think fast. We're about to be in wide-open space with Yablokov free to take shots all day long with his damn space rifle.
80
Last Stand
CRACK!!! A bullet grazes the top of my helmet and my head jerks backwards. It's so goddamn loud I'm positive it split my skull. Nope. Still here.
Thank god these things are designed to deflect micrometeorites.