Burden of Sisyphus (44 page)

           
“Captain Young, I’m truly glad you decided to wait for us.
 
I’d hate to think we’d be flying to the Alliance Fleet in nothing more than a
Cair.”

           
“I’m your captain.
 
I couldn’t have you fly back under such austere conditions.”

           
“That son of a bitch,” Yen growled.

           
Vance hushed him with a wave of his hand.
 

           
“I’m eager to hear what happened on the planet, Michael.
 
Why don’t you and your men join me on the
Goliath,
so you may give a full debriefing of the events?”

           
“It seems like an offer I can’t refuse,” Vance said flatly.

           
“Bring your ship around to the bow and dock in the main hangar bay.
 
I’ll have a crew ready to treat any of your wounded.
 
The last thing we’d want is for them to suffer when help is so close.”

           
Vance, gripping the microphone tightly, scanned the others’ worried faces.
 
“Unfortunately, that won’t be possible, Sir.
 
We’re experiencing mechanical problems.
 
Our ship took some damage during our heavy acceleration out of the atmosphere, which means we can’t dock inside the ship.
 
If you could extend one of
Goliath’s
exterior docking arms, my pilot can perform a combat docking instead.”

           
The captain let the silence stretch.
 
Yen grew nervous, turning his chair to scan the radar, looking for inbound attacks from the warship.
 
Finally, after what felt like forever, Captain Young replied.

           
“My navigator tells me we can accommodate your request, Michael.
 
We’re sending coordinates for the docking arm now.
 
We’ll see you soon.
 
Good-bye, Michael.”

           
His last words carried a dangerous finality that all three understood.

           
“That was awfully cordial,” Decker said.
 
“I assume it’s a trap.”

           
“A thinly veiled threat is more like it,” Yen said.
 
“He’ll kill all of us, won’t he?”

           
Vance stared out the front window, trying to see the dark ship in orbit around the planet they approached.
 
As soon as he heard Captain Young’s voice, a dangerous desire for revenge welled up.
 
He wanted to feel the man’s last breath, as he choked the life from him with his bare hands.

           
A smaller voice inside, perhaps his conscience, kept hold on Vance’s sanity.
 
Though revenge would come, Vance had a larger responsibility.
 
He needed to keep the other three onboard.
 
At least one of them had to survive to warn the High Council of the Terran threat.
 
Rushing headlong into danger would jeopardize everything they needed to accomplish.

           
“Yes,” Vance said finally.
 
“Given the chance, he’ll kill all four of us.
 
More than likely, an assault team will be waiting the second we step off the
Cair Ilmun.”

           
“”What do we do?” Yen asked.
 
“Try to run?”

           
“We can’t outrun a warship,” Decker said.
 
“We’d be shot out of the air the second he detected we were leaving.”

           
“No.”
 
Vance’s lips turned to a thin smile, as he formulated a plan.
 
“You’ll dock us with
Goliath
, just like requested.”

           
“Are you serious?” Yen asked.

           
Decker turned toward him in surprise.
 
“After we’re sitting ducks, what do we do?”

           
Vance turned sharply toward them both, determination flashing dangerously in his eyes.
 
“
We
don’t do anything.
 
Once I’m safely onboard
Goliath,
you three will break free of the docking arm and fly out of the galaxy as fast as you can.”

           
“Now I know you aren’t serious.”
 
Yen threw up his arms in exasperation.

           
Decker placed a calming hand on Yen’s shoulder.
 
“Sir, you can’t do this.
 
You said it yourself.
 
Going into that warship is a death sentence.
 
Even if we broke free, we can’t outrun
Goliath.
 
One quick missile barrage is all it takes to spread our atoms to the farthest reaches of this system.”

           
Vance pushed past them both and walked into the crew compartment.
 
Buren stared at the arguing Pilgrims in disbelief after overhearing Vance’s plan.

           
“I can guarantee that
Goliath
won’t fire on you,” Vance said.
 
“You’ll make it free of the galaxy.
 
I know you don’t understand my plan, nor do you need to.
 
You just have to trust me, like I trust you.

           
“While I’m on
Goliath,
you three will start the long flight back to civilization.
 
You have to let the High Council know what happened here.
 
More than that, you need to tell them about the Empire’s invasion.
 
If I fail, you’ll die.
 
I understand that.
 
If you fail, millions, if not billions, of Alliance civilians could die in the Terran assault.”

           
He took his seat and closed eyes to indicate the debate was over.
 
Decker prodded him for information, trying to learn what Vance planned once he boarded the warship or how he intended to keep them from firing, but the Pilgrim commander remained stoically silent in his webbed seating.
 

           
Frustrated, Decker took his seat farther down the bench and brooded in silence, as the
Cair Ilmun
flew closer.
 
Eventually, it reached
Goliath’s
dark shadow.

           
A mechanical arm extended from the warship.
 
Reaching out like a set of spider legs, they wrapped around the bottom of the
Cair Ilmun’s
hull.
 
The four survivors lurched, as they stopped moving.

           
From underfoot, they heard the whistle of metal gears and hydraulics twisting and spinning, while an airtight seal between the ships was established.
 
As air flooded the long metal hallway between the two vessels, the
Cair Ilmun
shuddered, and the light in the airlock turned from red to green, signifying breathable air.

           
Yen left his control chair and joined the others in the crew compartment.
 
“Don’t do this, Vance,” he pleaded.
 
“It’s suicide.”

           
“I know what you’re trying to do,” Decker said, “and it’s a noble cause, but I agree with Yen.
 
There has to be a better way.”

           
Undeterred, Vance opened the floor hatch to expose the long tunnel.
 
Once beyond the hull and the artificial gravity of the ship, he would float freely to a similar hatch on
Goliath
.
 
Though their conversation was far from over, he yearned to leap into the hole and feel the weight of the past few days lift from him.

           
“Yen.”
 
He stared down at his looming fate.
 
“I need you back in the cockpit.
 
Give me a few seconds to get inside, then give this little ship everything it’s got.
 
Get as far from the
Goliath
as possible.”

           
He was startled by a hand in front of his face.
 
Looking up, he saw Yen’s emotional expression.
 
Vance clutched the hand and drew Yen into a hug, knowing the burden he passed on.
 
Not only did Yen have the responsibility of warning the High Council, he also carried the burden of being the last surviving member of their team.

           
Vance understood that.
 
Being the sole survivor was never a badge of honor.
 
Instead, it was a persistent nightmare that never left him alone.
 
Without a word, Yen broke the hug and walked to the cockpit.

           
Looking over Decker’s shoulder, Vance saw Buren, still strapped to his chair.
 
“Take care of that one, Decker.
 
He’ll get better in time and could become a great asset, but he’ll have a hard path until then.”

           
Decker nodded without speaking.

           
“Once I’m through the airlock, make sure you seal it behind me, then strap in as quickly as you can.
 
I have the feeling you’ll have a bumpy ride, as you escape this system.”

           
Vance sat on the edge of the hatch, dangling his legs, feeling weightlessness tug at his pants.
 
“I’m sorry we had to meet like this.
 
I feel I found a kindred spirit in you, someone who reminded me of myself a lifetime ago.”
 
Vance sighed and looked down.
 
“Take care of them, Decker.
 
You’re the one who’ll have to keep struggling to stay alive.”

           
Decker extended his hand.
 
“Thank you, Sir, and please, call me Adam.”

           
Vance took Adam’s callused hand and shook it firmly, locking eyes with him.
 
When Vance smiled, half his upturned mouth was hidden by his dark beard.
 
“Good luck, Adam.”

           
“You, too, Sir.”

           
Vance pushed off and dropped through the hatch.
 
Once clear of the
Cair Ilmun,
his downward momentum stopped, catching him in a gentle float toward the other airlock.
 
Like the hungry maw of a primordial beast, it slid open, revealing inky blackness beyond.

           
Above him, Vance saw Adam close the airlock.
 
The outer latch spun, sealing the door and protecting the small ship from dangerous decompression.
 
A sense of loss and sadness washed over Vance when he saw the door close, because it slammed shut a long part of his life and severed his ties to the past.
 
Below him, rising closer, awaited a dark future.

           
Passing through the airlock, the door sealed shut behind him, casting him into unnatural darkness.
 
Gravity reasserted itself, slamming him onto the deck, while highly oxygenated gas poured from the chamber from ceiling vents.

           
Vance hurried to regain his feet, not eager to let Captain Young see him in a submissive pose when he entered.
 
As the interior door slid open, bright light poured in.
 
Squinting, Vance covered his eyes with his hand and walked into the reception chamber beyond.

           
Captain Young stood at the base of the stairs at the far end of the barren room.
 
Along the walls and flanking him, the traitorous crew stood in full military regalia, encased in body armor and carrying large-bore rifles.
 
Vance walked through the doorway and stepped in front of the proverbial firing squad.