She raked the light over a device angled toward the opening in the ceiling. So it wasn’t damage that had caused the hole.
A telescope pointed at the sky. She walked over to it with her light centered on the tube. A plaque was mounted to the side. She brushed off the dust and dead leaves.
Nebula Chaser.
She glanced up at the telescope, wondering what people had once seen through its optics. A star-filled sky, the moon, a meteor shower. Now the only thing to see was storms.
She walked around the telescope, stepping over the vegetation that covered the deck and wrapped around the observatory like a giant snake.
Like every kid growing up, she had always wondered what the Old World was like. She marveled at human engineering, wishing she had been born at a time before the war, so she could experience things that were now nothing but rust and dirt and historical archives.
Coming out here may have been a death sentence, but it allowed her to discover things like this telescope.
She left the structure and continued with machete in hand, eager to uncover other mysteries. Moving through the maze of empty boxes and crates that littered the path, she stopped at an open hatch in the deck.
The window gave her a view of the level below her boots. She bent down near the edge and shined her light inside.
Standing water had pooled below, hiding whatever was down there.
The hatch that led to the command center was closed, and when she tried the handle, it was locked. The rusted hull didn’t appear to have any other entry points.
Sheathing the machete, she backed up a few steps and unslung her rifle. A round was already chambered, so she flicked off the safety and aimed at the lock.
It wasn’t her first time firing a gun, but she felt oddly nervous. Moving her finger to the trigger, she held a breath in and squeezed. The crack echoed like thunder, and sparks flew from the impact.
She pulled a fresh cartridge off the bandolier and chambered it. The handle on the hatch budged slightly, but that was all.
She would fire one more, and if that didn’t work, she must find another route.
Taking a few steps back, she lined up the sights and fired again.
This time, the round punched through the lock, and the hatch clicked open. She slung her rifle and entered.
The beam from her headlamp revealed more standing water and vegetation. The growth was thick here, webbing across the passage and through several hatches.
She hacked through it easily, the dead vines breaking away like dust.
The first hatch revealed an office with broken picture frames still on the bulkheads. She searched the drawers of a rusted metal cabinet but found nothing besides a few screws and a plastic pen.
She shined the light into the passage. Four more open hatches led to other quarters beyond the wall of vegetation blocking off the route.
She went to work with the machete, hacking while her light flickered off the bulkheads. When she finally broke through, she saw something unexpected. The steel deck had erupted, like a puffball releasing its spores.
She switched from the machete back to her rifle and plucked a cartridge from the bandolier. There were still six left. She had more in the boat, which suddenly seemed very far away.
Ada started to chamber the round when a distant clanking sounded. She froze in place, listening as the noise faded away.
It came again a moment later. This wasn’t a creaking hull, or flotsam sloshing about in the standing water below. This noise was animal in nature.
Pushing the cartridge into the open chamber, she managed to drop it. The round clattered to the deck and rolled through the opening in the torn metal. It pinged and clattered a dozen more times before finally stopping.
A screech answered. She wasn’t the only living thing on this ship after all.
Michael crouched in front of Layla at her station on the bridge.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “We’re only going outside for a few hours, and Cricket will do most of the work.”
“Can’t you just let Alfred’s techs and the engineers fix the thrusters, Tin? Why do you always have to be the hero?”
“I’m not trying to be the hero, but someone’s got to guard them, and we’re down to just four divers and three militia soldiers in fighting condition.”
Layla drew in a deep breath, her chest rising above her swollen belly.
“I’m not going to lie to you,” she said. “Bray and I can’t take much more of this. First the snakes at the fuel outpost, then the monsters and skinwalkers in Rio de Janeiro. What’s next?”
“Hopefully nothing,” Michael said. He looked over his shoulder. “Timothy, have you been able to bring your sensors back online?”
The hologram stood with his hands clasped behind his back, not far from the captain’s chair. He held up a finger to indicate he would be with Michael after finishing his hushed conversation with Captain Mitchells.
“I want to hear this,” Layla said.
Michael took a seat in the chair beside her and listened to the captain and the AI discuss the state of the airship. He already knew most of it, but it was a good reminder of what they were facing.
“Life support is at fifty-two percent,” Timothy said. “I’d like to get that closer to the eighty range now that we have our new passengers.”
“Number’s definitely moving in the right direction,” Les replied.
“Oxygen flow is back to optimal levels.”
“Good work,” Les said. “Now we just have to get the thrusters working again. How far are we from our target?”
“About an hour, sir, give or take. Hard to say without the thrusters.”
“And the sensors Commander Everhart asked about?”
“I have not been able to get the biological life scanners online, unfortunately,” said Timothy, “but I should be able to determine the radiation levels once we get closer to the suggested landing zone.”
“What about scans for defectors?” Michael asked.
“I should be able to detect any exhaust plumes if they are present,” Timothy said. “In the meantime, here’s a map of the best LZ I could find in our databases.”
The main wall-mounted screen came online with a map of what looked like an old-world airport.
“What are we looking at?” Les asked.
“Grantley International Airport, Barbados,” Timothy said. “The runways are probably going to be rough, but if they are clear of hostiles, we’ll call them perfect.”
“Ensign Corey, how is the weather looking over this potential LZ?” Les asked.
Eevi hunched with droopy eyes over her monitor. She tapped it a few times before giving her report. “There is a storm just east of the airport,” she said. “Skies might be rough in that area, but it’s hard to say.”
“Don’t forget, we’ve sustained massive damage to three of the outer shields, thanks in part to those Sirens,” Layla said. “A direct lightning hit to any of those areas could be the end of Discovery.”
“True,” Timothy said, “but once we put down, it won’t take long to get the thrusters online. We just need to replace wiring and relays that got fried in each one during the surge. Two hours max for both if Alfred and his team work fast. The odds of a lightning hit in that span of time are statistically insignificant.”
“Timothy, take us down to five hundred feet,” Les said. “Commander Everhart, round up the divers, militia, and Cazador soldiers. We’re going to need you all to keep our techs and engineers safe.”
Michael got out of his chair and bent down to Layla. “I’ll be gone a few hours max, promise,” he said.
They shared a soft kiss that lasted a few seconds longer than normal. Michael then wrapped her up in a hug.
“It’s okay, I promise,” he said.