Aces (22 page)

The robot reached
down to its foot, and gently peeled Manny
’
s fingers away.
Manny took the processor and held it tightly as he watched the robot float out
the door. It halted in the airlock, letting Gina come into the shuttle.

Captain Schroeder
waved her in. “Gina, you
’
re injured, take the last seat,
please. Ms. Sanchez, I
’
m sorry, could you squeeze into the
storage closet, with your children? It will only be for a short time.”
Schroeder explained. Seth was in the pilot seat, Schroeder himself would take
the copilot chair. They had the unconscious Vassily strapped to the seat behind
Schroeder.

“Kaylee, Manny,
come here, please.” Joy said quietly.

“
Wait,
Mom.
” Kaylee held up her finger for one second. She turned to face the airlock.
“
Goodbye, Rocko.
” She said, choking on tears.

“Bye, Rocko.”
Manny added, his eyes stinging with tears.

The robot swung
itself around, so that it appeared to be standing on the floor, in normal
gravity. It raised its right hand to its forehead in solemn salute. “Kaylee,
Manuel, it has been an honor serving with you.” It held the salute, as
Schroeder pressed the button to slide the door closed.

Schroeder pulled
himself around, wiping away a tear of his own. “Ach, he is a good soldier. We
will not let his sacrifice be in vain, aye?” He floated past the Sanchezes and
into the copilot seat.

Manny wiped his
tears away on his shirt sleeve. “
No, we won
’
t,”
he said as he tucked the processor away in his pocket. The shuttle
’
s former pilot gave the order to the current pilot. “Seth, get
us out of here.”

Valjean
approached
Nightengale
, holding his last fire
extinguisher at waist level. He had jumped off the freighter, headed toward his
ship, using three fire extinguishers as thrusters. Two had been discarded along
the way. The first one had been used to propel him forward, the second one to
get him aimed toward his ship, and now he needed the last one to keep on
course, and slow down enough that the impact wouldn
’
t kill
him, or cause him to bounce off, and become a permanent fixture in Ares orbit.

The ship was
looming large in front of him. He placed the nozzle right at his belly button,
curled his legs up, and squeezed the trigger. Fire suppression fluid squirted
out under pressure, away from him, forming a string of frozen droplets. The
droplets impacted his ship, too hard. He was coming in too fast. He squeezed
the trigger again, and liquid shot out in front of him, slowing him down. He
was off center, moving off course. He swung his arms to turn, and squeezed the
trigger again. The stream was weaker this time. He kept the trigger pressed
down, until the canister was exhausted, then he pushed it away from him.

It was going to
be close. He was headed toward the ship
’
s nose, and beyond
that was empty space. Valjean pulled a cable out of the toolkit on his belt,
and made a lasso. He was, he estimated, going to bump into the ship harder than
he wanted.

At the last
minute, he extended his feet, and used his legs to absorb the impact. His knees
were driven up almost past his chin from the shock, and he toppled forward, hit
the ship with the top of his helmet, and rebounded back out into space. But not
before he got his lasso looped around an antenna. He floated out to the end of
the cable, which then violently jerked him around, the belt digging into his
waist so tightly that his eyes bulged out, and he bashed his nose on the inside
of the helmet. The nose bleed was a concern, the droplets were floating around,
sticking to the faceplate, blocking his vision. He began the process of pulling
himself, hand over hand, down the cable, until he was able to clutch a handhold
on the ship.

Now he need to
get inside, charge the hyperdrive engines, and get away, as fast as he could.

Nelson, Sam, and
Rick were sitting on the floor of the small office that was attached to the
miner
’
s crawler garage. Legs sprawled out, backs slouched
against the wall, they sat quietly, napping, or looking through the large
windows at the dead, rust-red terrain outside. All three men were back in their
e-suits, helmets on, faceplates buttoned up, breathing the remaining oxygen in
their suit bottles. The air in the office had gotten too foul to breathe
several hours before, Nelson had been the one to decide it was time to button
up and go back on internal oxygen.

The miners had
either put on their own e-suits, or congregated in larger buildings, hoping to
delay the time when they would put on an e-suit and watch their oxygen supply
gauge steadily drop toward zero. The three men from
Ace
decided they wanted
to be together, and didn
’
t really feel entirely at home
around the miners, so they had settled down in the garage office. Mac, still
securely tied up, was strapped to a seat in one of the shot-up crawlers,
breathing the last two hours of his own oxygen supply. The miners had wanted to
throw him out an airlock and take his oxygen for themselves, Nelson,
brandishing Mac
’
s rifle, had put a stop to that. Rick was
glad Nelson had stepped forward, Rick couldn
’
t be sure he
could control himself around the pirate. Sitting on the floor, trying to be
calm, and to avoid moving around in order to stretch his oxygen supply wasn
’
t easy. Rick still seethed with frustrated anger and grief.
They still didn
’
t know what was going on upstairs. The
radio jamming prevented communication with the ship, the command section, or
the pirates. The pirate ship must still be in orbit, Nelson said, because the
radio jamming was active.

“Hey!” Sam said
quietly, pushing himself slowly to his feet, and looking out the window toward
the south. “Look at that.”

Nelson and Rick
scrambled to their feet and walked over to the window. “What do- oh.” Nelson
said.

Rick then saw
what Sam was pointing at. Low on the horizon, an orange fireball was streaking
across the sky, it left a long contrail behind it, stretching back across the
horizon. “What is that? A meteor? It
’
s not a missile, is
it?” His two companions didn
’
t answer.
“Guys?
What is that?”

Nelson sighed
through the suit radio. He exchanged a knowing look with Sam, then looked back
up at the fireball. Nelson didn
’
t want Rick to look into
his helmet, didn
’
t want Rick to see the tear running down
his cheek. To Rick he said quietly “Rick, that
’
s something
coming down from orbit. It
’
s burning up in the
atmosphere.”

“The ship?” Rick
exclaimed in horror.

“No, no, no way,
it
’
s not big enough. Not even close.” Nelson declared. “It
could be anything, a piece of the ship that got knocked away, probably. Some
cargo, maybe. Ah, so what? The company has insurance.” It was a lame joke. He
didn
’
t say that he thought it was most likely the command
section. He quickly continued, so as not to give Rick time to dwell on it.
“Damn! I wish we knew what was going on up there! If all the pirates want is to
steal some junk off  the ship, they should have grabbed it and been long
gone by now.”

“Yeah.”
Sam concurred.
“Unless somebody is giving them trouble.”

“Like who?” Rick
asked.

“Uh, well,
whatever it is the pirates want, it
’
s got to be in one of
the cargo bays. When we left, everyone was on the bridge, except for your kids,
and Jen.” Sam speculated. “So that leaves Jen.”

Rick exploded in
frustration. “
I don’
t give a damn what the pirates want,
they can take the whole ship, for all I care! Jen
’
s
responsibility is to make sure the passengers are safe, that means my children.”

“And I
’
m sure that
’
s what she did, Rick.” Nelson
said soothingly, trying to keep the anguish out of his voice. He was staring at
the fireball, certain he was seeing the death of the crew he had served with
for years, and trying to stick to what he could do, to do his job, whatever was
left of it. “I
’
m sure the first thing Jen did was find a
secure place for your children to hide. It
’
s a big ship,
no way the pirates could search it all. Jen probably made it difficult for the
pirates, like lock all the doors, turn the gravity off and on, things like
that. Slow them down, buy time for the Navy to get here.”

“And what if she
just makes them mad?” Rick insisted.

“They
’
re not going to risk firing a missile at a cargo bay, risk
hitting whatever they
’
re looking for. But I can tell you
this,” Nelson added, struggling to control his own emotions, “as soon as they
get what they
’
re looking for, and leave the ship, they may
blow it up, and that has nothing to do with whether Jen made them mad or not.
They probably don
’
t want to leave any witnesses behind. So
the best thing Jen can do, is stall for time, you hear me?”

All Rick could
think about was a vivid mental image of his two young children, scared
senseless, hiding in some dark place Jen had put them, holding onto each other,
and trying not to cry so the pirates wouldn
’
t hear them.
“Yeah, I hear you, Nelson. Jen has always been good to my kids, I
’
m
sure you
’
re right. She has them someplace safe, and she
’
s doing all she can to keep them safe.”

Sam stared at the
wreckage of the command section, which had now broken apart into many
individual fireballs, all headed down toward the red dust and rock. He clenched
his fists. “
Nelson, man, I
’
m glad you
have that rifle, instead of me.”

“Why?” Nelson
asked.

Sam said a silent
prayer for his crewmates, above them. “Because if I had that rifle right now, I
’
d blow Mac
’
s head off.”

The shuttle was
in a stable orbit, although so low that Seth held his breath whenever he looked
down at the planet. If Ares
’
atmosphere wasn
’
t
so thin, they would have crashed by now. Seth
’
s pilot
console beeped. Another message from the pirates? It was something else
entirely, something unexpected. “Captain! I
’
ve got a gamma
ray burst, ship dropping out of hyperspace.”

“Where? What
ship?” Schroeder asked from the copilot
’
s seat, trying to
figure which button to press. He vowed that from now on, he would take regular
refresher training in piloting shuttlecraft.

Seth could only
hold up his hands. The console in front of him had no wisdom to offer. It was
just a shuttle. “Without sensors, I can
’
t tell anything. I
’
ll try to get a location on the burst, maybe I can-“

The shuttle
’
s cabin speakers crackled, and they heard a familiar voice,
distorted, the Navy ship
’
s powerful radio transmitter
cutting through the pirate's jamming. “This is the Navy frigate
Tigershark
,
calling the vessel claiming to be the
Nightengale
.
Cease your radio jamming, stand down your hyperdrive, and prepare to be
boarded.”

The cheering in
the shuttle
’
s packed cabin was so loud Seth couldn
’
t hear himself think.

Lt. Commander
Ross looked up from his scope. “That
’
s one mystery solved,
Captain. I think we just found the
Isaac Newton
.” He pointed to the
small ship in front of them.

Captain Gante
tilted her head. “How so?”

Ross explained.
“Same configuration. Her transponder says she
’
s the
Nightengale
, registered to a company called Biopharma, but
otherwise, she
’
s an exact match for the
Isaac Newton
.
I think somebody bought, stole, or leased the
Newton
, created a fake
registration, and changed her name and transponder code to
Nightengale
.
And I
’
ll bet they sent that fake distress call we were
chasing.”

Gante nodded. It
made sense. She glanced at the console beside her chair, which displayed status
of the ship
’
s major systems.
Tigershark
’
s hyperdrive engines were critically hot from the sustained
high-speed run to Ares, temperatures edging into the red zone. On her own
authority, Gante had pushed her ship at full military power for the entire run
to Ares. Now that the ship was back in normal space, her radiators were dumping
excess heat like the surface of a star, but the hyperdrive coils were still way
over temperature. She would have to watch them carefully before they Jumped
again. “We can check your theory in person, soon, XO.”

As soon as he
heard the radio message, Valjean knew he
’
d been fooled,
fooled by a trick so simple he couldn
’
t believe he
’
d fallen for it. It was glaringly obvious what had happened:
the frigate crew had tinkered with the timecode embedded in their hyperwave
messages, to make him think the Navy ship was transmitting the messages from
far away, still looking for the ghost ship
Isaac Newton
. He felt like an
idiot, and it made him even more angry. His hand closed around the control
stick, then he let go, picked up a datapad, and flung it to smash against the
rear bulkhead. Only for a split second, he lost control. Then, with a deep,
calming breath, he took stock of his situation. It was not hopeless. In fact,
he still had the advantage.

In order to
reply, he needed to turn off the radio jamming, so he complied with that part
of the Navy
’s demands.
“Navy, hello,” he said, “nice to
see you. Did you get bored looking for the
Isaac Newton
, or were you
just feeling lonely out there?”

The reply came back,
simple, direct. “
Nightengale
, shut down your
hyperdrive immediately.”

Valjean looked at
the readout. His hyperdrive coils were 82% charged, he needed to stall the Navy
ship only a few more minutes before he could Jump away. “
No, I
don’
t think so.
Tigershark
,” he said in a smooth, oily voice,
feeling confident once again, “you and I both know it will take you almost half
an hour to recharge your Jump engines. I will be long gone by the time you Jump
again, if you haven't melted your drive coils already, and this is a big
galaxy. You
’
ll never find me.” He was speaking truthfully,
a small ship like
Nightengale
, with a thirty minute
head start, would be very difficult for a single frigate to search for. The
odds were that Valjean would get away cleanly. “It
’
s been
real fun, though, we should do this again sometime.”

“
Nightengale
, we will find you. The Navy will find you. You
won
’
t have any place to hide in this galaxy.”

“That
’
s what you think.” Valjean said under his breath. He noted with
satisfaction that the Navy ship had been reduced to idle threats. Let the Navy
sputter angrily all they wanted. Now, to buy some more time for himself.
Valjean checked the controls. Could he still fire his one remaining missile
remotely? He didn
’
t have time to walk over to the airlock
and get it connected. Yes, the missile was responding and powered up. This
missile had a much larger, more powerful warhead, he had brought it along in
order to destroy the mining camp, Mac and the miners, eliminating witnesses.
Mac and the miners would now survive. No matter. He gave the missile a new
target, programming the missile to explode at reduced power near
Nightengale
’
s hijacked shuttle. He
wanted to damage, not destroy, the shuttle. A destroyed shuttle would only make
the Navy angry. A damaged shuttle would delay the Navy ship, while they
diverted to rescue the passengers. “Navy, while you
’
re
charging your Jump engines, I
’
m sure you
’
ll
be bored. So, I
’
m going to give you something useful to
do. Like a rescue operation. Farewell, Navy.”

Valjean removed
the safeties, and pressed the button to fire the missile. He felt a slight
lurch as it left his ship. It had launched from the side of
Nightengale
pointed away from the target, and would need to acquire the
Nightengale
’
s shuttle with its own radar before homing in. Valjean turned
to his radar console to watch the missile
’
s progress, a
smile curling up the sides of his mouth. If he couldn
’
t
get the object he
’
d been paid to steal, he would at least
get revenge. 87% charge on the Jump engine coils. He kept on eye on the radar
screen while he locked in a course for the hyperspace Jump.

The collision
alarm sounded, blaring in his ear. “What?” His eyes grew wide as he saw the
radar display, there were now six objects on the scope;
Atlas Challenger
,
the shuttle,
Tigershark
, the missile he
’
d just
fired, which had now made its turn and was homing in on the shuttle, and two
unidentified objects, approaching his ship at high speed. Very high speed! As
he watched, one of the objects changed course and intercepted his missile,
blowing it into dust, far away from the shuttle. The second object had flipped
around and was decelerating, the readout said the object was slowing down with
the force of over three thousand Gees. It was headed straight for him. He turned
his attention to the Jump engines, which were now 90% charged. He needed a 96%
charge for a successful Jump.

“
Nightengale
, this is
Tigershark
. Our second missile
has matched your course, and is now in position ten meters off your starboard
bow. Disengage your hyperdrive now, or I will order the missile to destroy your
ship. Repeat, disengage your hyperdrive
now
.”

Valjean realized,
in a belated flash of insight, that the Navy ship must have fired two missiles
as soon as they came out of hyperspace, letting them run onward toward his ship
without the missiles using their own radar seekers. The Navy missile alongside
his ship was likely programmed to explode if it detected a hyperdrive field
forming. He looked at the Jump engine readout. 94%. So close.

"
Nightengale
,
this is Captain Gante. Give me a reason to blow you to dust. Any reason.
Please."

That had been the
story with this whole screwed up job. How could he have failed so badly? Two
children,
children
, had gotten the better of him!
He didn
’
t get more angry. Instead, Valjean sighed. In
order to live to fight another day, you needed to stay alive. Valjean reached
over and flipped the switch to start draining power from the hyperdrive coils.
In a low voice, he said over the radio “Navy, this is...
Nightengale
.
Jump engines disengaged.” He swallowed hard. “Standing by over here, as
ordered.”

In the shuttle,
the people aboard heard Valjean
’
s radio surrender, and a
cheer went up, ringing around the cramped cabin.