«They’ll be in full suits,» said Stromsen. «Each on his own individual life-support system.»
«How can we capture them? Or even fight them?» Yang wondered aloud.
Hazard detected no hint of defeat in their voices. The despair of a half hour earlier was gone now. A new excitement had hold of them. He was holding a glimmer of hope for them, and they were reaching for it.
«There can’t be more than six of them aboard that boat,» Feeney mused.
I wonder if Cardillo has the guts to lead the boarding party in person, Hazard asked himself.
«We don’t have any useful weapons,» said Yang.
«But we have some tools,» Stromsen pointed out. «Maybe …»
«What do the lifeboat engines use for propellant?» Hazard asked rhetorically.
«Methane and Oh-eff-two,» Feeney replied, looking puzzled.
Hazard nodded. «Miss Stromsen, which of our supply magazines are still intact—if any?»
It took them several minutes to understand what he was driving at, but when they finally saw the light, the three young officers went speedily to work. Together with the four unwounded members of the crew, they prepared a welcome for the boarders from Graham.
Finally, Hazard watched on Stromsen’s display screens as the boat sniffed around the battered station. Strict silence was in force aboard Hunter. Even in the CIC, deep at the heart of the battle station, they spoke in tense whispers.
«I hope the bastards like what they see,» Hazard muttered.
«They know that we used the lifeboats for shields,» said Yang.
«Active armor,» Hazard said. «Did you know the idea was invented by the man this station’s named after?»
«They’re looking for a docking port,» Stromsen pointed out.
«Only one left,» said Feeney.
They could hang their boat almost anywhere and walk in through the holes they’ve put in us, Hazard said to himself. But they won’t. They’ll go by the book and find an intact docking port. They’ve got to! Everything depends on that.
He felt his palms getting slippery with nervous perspiration as the lifeboat slowly, slowly moved around Hunter toward the Earth-facing side, where the only usable port was located. Hazard had seen to it that all the other ports had been disabled.
«They’re buying it!» Stromsen’s whisper held a note of triumph.
«Sir!» Yang hissed urgently. «A message just came in—laser beam, ultracompressed.»
«From where?»
«Computer’s decrypting,» she replied, her snubnosed face wrinkled with concentration. «Coming up on my center screen, sir.»
Hazard slid over toward her. The words on the screen read:
From: IPF Regional HQ, Lagos.
To: Commander, battle station Hunter.
Message begins. Coup attempt in Geneva a failure, thanks in large part to your refusal to surrender your command. Situation still unclear, however. Imperative you retain control of Hunter, at all costs. Message ends.
He read it aloud, in a guttural whisper, so that Feeney and Stromsen understood what was at stake.
«We’re not alone,» Hazard told them. «They know what’s happening, and help is on the way.»
That was stretching the facts, he knew. And he knew they knew. But it was reassuring to think that someone, somewhere, was preparing to help them.
Hazard watched them grinning to one another. In his mind, though, he kept repeating the phrase «Imperative you retain control of Hunter, at all costs.»
At all costs, Hazard said to himself, closing his eyes wearily, seeing Varshni dying in his arms and the others maimed. At all costs.
The bastards, Hazard seethed inwardly. The dirty, power-grabbing, murdering bastards. Once they set foot inside my station, I’ll kill them like the poisonous snakes they are. I’ll squash them flat. I’ll cut them open just like they’ve slashed my kids …
He stopped abruptly and forced himself to take a deep breath. Yeah, sure. Go for personal revenge. That’ll make the world a better place to live in, won’t it?
«Sir, are you all right?»
Hazard opened his eyes and saw Stromsen staring at him. «Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.»
«They’ve docked, sir,» said the Norwegian. «They’re debarking and coming up passageway C, just as you planned.»
Looking past her to the screens, Hazard saw that there were six of them, all in space suits, visors down. And pistols in their gloved hands.
«Nothing bigger than pistols?»
«No, sir. Not that we can see, at least.»
Turning to Feeney. «Ready with the aerosols?»
«Yes, sir.»
«All crew members evacuated from the area?»
«They’re all back on level four, except for the sick bay.»
Hazard never took his eyes from the screens. The six space-suited boarders were floating down the passageway that led to the lower levels of the station, which were still pressurized and held breathable air. They stopped at the air lock, saw that it was functional. The leader of their group started working the wall unit that controlled the lock.
«Can we hear them?» he asked Yang.
Wordlessly, she touched a stud on her keyboard.
«… use the next section of the passageway as an air lock,» someone was saying. «Standard procedure. Then we’ll pump the air back into it once we’re inside.»
«But we stay in the suits until we check out the whole station. That’s an order,» said another voice.
Buckbee? Hazard’s spirits soared. Buckbee will make a nice hostage, he thought. Not as good as Cardillo, but good enough.
Just as he had hoped, the six boarders went through the airtight hatch, closed it behind them, and started the pump that filled the next section of passageway with air once again.
«Something funny here, sir,» said one of the space-suited figures.
«Yeah, the air’s kind of misty.»
«Never saw anything like this before. Christ, it’s like Mexico City air.»
«Stay in your suits!» It was Buckbee’s voice, Hazard was certain of it. «Their life-support systems must have been damaged in our bombardment. They’re probably all dead.»
You wish, Hazard thought. To Feeney, he commanded, «Seal that hatch.»
Feeney pecked at a button on his console.
«And the next one.»
«Already done, sir.»
Hazard waited, watching Stromsen’s main screen as the six boarders shuffled weightlessly to the next hatch and found that it would not respond to the control unit on the bulkhead.
«Damn! We’ll have to double back and find another route …»
«Miss Yang, I’m ready to hold converse with our guests,» said Hazard.
She flashed a brilliant smile and touched the appropriate keys, then pointed a surprisingly well-manicured finger at him. «You’re on the air!»
«Buckbee, this is Hazard.»
All six of the boarders froze for an instant, then spun weightlessly in midair, trying to locate the source of the new voice.
«You are trapped in that section of corridor,» Hazard said. «The mist that you see in the air is oxygen difluoride from our lifeboat propellant tanks. Very volatile stuff. Don’t strike any matches.»
«What the hell are you saying, Hazard?»
«You’re locked in that passageway, Buckbee. If you try to fire those popguns you’re carrying, you’ll blow yourselves to pieces.»
«And you too!»
«We’re already dead, you prick. Taking you with us is the only joy I’m going to get out of this.»
«You’re bluffing!»
Hazard snapped, «Then show me how brave you are, Buckbee. Take a shot at the hatch.»