Ride The Rising Tide (The Maxwell Saga) (15 page)

He looked around. The volume of fire from the hatch had diminished as those inside were forced to stay low; but the situation was stalemated. The smugglers — he presumed that’s what they were — could no longer risk exposing themselves to take accurate aim at his Spacers; but equally, he couldn’t risk exposing his Spacers to take accurate aim at them. He had to find a way to seize the initiative and take control of the fight. His eyes searched desperately around the forward part of the hold. Was there another entrance to the hidden compartment? Was there anything that might give him an advantage?

He grinned ferally as his gaze fell upon a gravity control panel mounted on the bulkhead, two frames back from the forward end of the hold. It surely had to operate the artificial gravity field in the forward half of the hold, probably including the hidden compartment — but he couldn’t make use of it yet. He had to wait until all the injured were out of the line of fire.

He keyed his microphone again. “Pick your shots carefully!
Don’t waste ammo!”

They’d only been issued a single charger of a hundred rounds for their bead carbines, something he now regretted bitterly. He swore to himself that if he ever had anything to say about such things in future, he’d insist that everyone carry at least one reload, more if possible. They’d just have to make the best of what they had for now. His carbine was still full, he suddenly realized — he hadn’t fired a shot yet. Flushing, he raised it to his shoulder and began to fire slow, carefully–aimed shots at the rim of the hatch, trying to bounce the beads off the steel and raise sparks, offering a visible deterrent to persuade those inside to keep their heads down.

He watched as the wounded were carried to the airlock one by one. He made a mental note to commend the Spacers he’d tasked with the job. They were keeping their heads down, making sure the wounded were shielded from those inside the hidden compartment as they pulled them clear of the fight. As he watched them, he was struck by a sudden thought. They weren’t the only ones who could use crates for cover! He reached for his belt tool and cut the straps holding together the stack of crates in front of him, loosening the top one so it would move freely.

As soon as the sixth and last victim was clear, he acted. “
Heads up!
Stand by for free–fall! Get hold of the stack of cargo in front of you and make sure it’s tied down! As soon as the artificial gravity field cuts out, I’m going to jump upward towards the deckhead. That’ll give me a clear shot over the lip of the hatch at those bastards inside. They’ll try to shoot at me, but to do so they’ll have to expose themselves to your fire. When they do, blast ’em!
Stand by!”

He waited a few seconds, looking around to ensure everyone had hold of something, then aimed carefully at the gravity control panel. His first round had no effect. His second produced a shower of sparks, then a sudden feeling of weightlessness as the local artificial gravity field cut out.

He gathered his feet beneath him. Holding fast to the crate he’d loosened, he thrust hard against the deck with his legs, floating upwards, pulling the crate in front of him to provide at least partial cover against return fire. He lined his carbine past it at one of the four figures in the hatch, all of whom were now kicking and struggling as they floated off the deck in unexpected free–fall. He fired, seeing his target arch, then slump, carbine drifting from his suddenly nerveless grasp. The other three bobbed in mid–air, staring at their stricken comrade, then up at Steve. He began to turn under the influence of the recoil of his shot, even though it had been attenuated by the carbine’s inertial compensator. Cursing, he tried desperately to swing back as the three surviving smugglers pointed their carbines at him. Two fired, but they hadn’t taken the time to aim properly. The crate he’d pulled upward with him absorbed their shots.

The search party saw the smugglers’ movements and his danger, and responded as one. A hail of carbine fire blasted into the open hatchway. The three inside, floating upward, were no longer concealed by its lower lip. They shuddered and twitched as multiple beads slammed into them.

Steve called, “
Cease fire! CEASE FIRE!”
He looked upward, saw the deckhead drawing nearer and put up a hand, stopping his upward motion, then thrusting himself back down towards the deck, pulling the crate with him as it bounced off the deckhead. He didn’t want it dropping on someone’s head when the internal gravity field was restored.

“
Everyone hold on to a stack of cargo! Don’t drift around getting in other people’s way! If anyone near you is floating, grab hold of them and help them find their feet.”

By the time he reached the deck again, everyone else had a secure grip on a cargo stack. He grabbed a strap fastened over a pile of crates, and looked around. “You and you!” He pointed to the two nearest Spacers, members of
Baobab’
s crew whom he didn’t know by name. “Come with me. We’re going to check out that compartment. The rest of you, stand fast — and point your carbines in a safe direction,
not at us!”

He heard chuckles over the radio as the two Spacers he’d indicated came up, pulling themselves from stack to stack. They moved towards the hatch carefully, carbines ready, alert for any threat as they peered inside. The four space–suited figures were floating motionless, all having released their weapons. Looking at their faces through their helmets, Steve could detect no signs of life. Their spacesuits showed the marks of multiple bead strikes. He pulled himself inside, looking to left and right along the narrow compartment. He couldn’t see anyone else — only boxes, crates and containers, all stacked high and strapped down. It wasn’t hard to guess what was probably inside them.

He pushed the four bodies out through the hatch one by one. As he did so, he muttered to himself, “That’ll teach you to smuggle weapons to kill and injure even more kids down there! Good riddance, you bastards!”

“
Can’t read your transmission, PO,” one of the two outside the hatch called.

He shook his head in annoyance. He hadn’t realized he was speaking aloud. “Disregard my last transmission. Search party, get those bodies to the airlock and take them outside.” The nine Spacers remaining to him moved towards the hatch to obey his orders. The other six had already taken the five wounded Spacers and the injured Bosun’s Mate into the corridor.

He switched back to the command channel. “Maxwell to all teams. Hold Two has been secured. Four hostiles down, believed killed. Hostiles and wounded are being removed from the hold for inspection and treatment in atmosphere. We need medical assistance at Hold Two as quickly as possible. We’ve uncovered a large hidden compartment filled with probable contraband. Cutter, what’s happening with
Grasswren
and
Baobab
? Over.”

The response was immediate. “Cutter to Maxwell,
Grasswren
has asked all other patrol craft in the vicinity to send assistance.
Baobab’
s alerted their hospital to receive our wounded. Captain Innes is on his way in person with reinforcements. Over.”

“
Maxwell to cutter, thank you. Break. Maxwell to bridge and engineering, what’s your status? Over.”

“
Bridge to Maxwell, we’ve locked everything down. We monitored Channel Three and watched on the ship’s security vid as you took out those smugglers. That was bloody well done! Ingenious to shut down the local artificial gravity field like that, and take a crate up with you for cover. Over.”

“
Engineering to Maxwell, we’ve got everything under control here. Well done for dealing with those bastards! Standing by. Over.”

“
Maxwell to all teams, thank you. I suggest we hold in place until relieved. Maxwell out.”

~ ~ ~

Steve found it hard to fight off sudden, overwhelming exhaustion as he watched the stretcher–bearers remove the last of the attackers’ bodies. None of them had survived their injuries. The wounded were already on their way to
Baobab’
s hospital. With luck, they’d all make it. His eyes passed over the remainder of his search party as they stood quietly along the bulkhead, making room for the stretcher–bearers.

Another group of armed Spacers came up the passage toward them. A black–uniformed figure was in the lead. Steve peered through weary eyes, and recognized Captain Innes.

“Search party,
ten
–HUT!”

He saluted the Captain as he came up. Innes returned his salute.

“Well done, PO! We’ll take care of things from here on out. Get your party back to the cutter, return my spacers to
Baobab
, then report back to
Grasswren
. You can make out your report there. I’ve got fifty armed Spacers with me, and more on the way. This ship isn’t going anywhere — nor is its cargo, until we’ve sorted out exactly what’s going on here. The UP Commissioner will just have to possess herself in patience.”

Steve managed to muster a tired smile. “I think she may not be used to having people say that to her, Sir.”

The Captain snorted. “Perhaps not, but there’s a first time for everything!”

“
I guess so, Sir.”  He saluted again, then turned to his Spacers.

“
Search party, let’s head for the docking bay — and give yourselves a pat on the back. You did very well today. Thank you all very much.”

~ ~ ~

Warrant Officer Dhruv smiled up at Steve as he approached his bed. He was lying propped up on several pillows, bandages wrapped around his body, covering most of his chest. “Hi, PO! What brings you here?”

“
I’ve brought Senior Lieutenant Parasurani to a meeting with Captain Innes, Sir. I took advantage of the opportunity to come see how you were.” Steve shook Dhruv’s extended hand.

“
I’m glad to see you. I understand we owe you our thanks — probably our lives, too — for getting us out of that hold yesterday before the smugglers could finish us off.”

“
I didn’t get you out, Sir. That was six other Spacers,” Steve objected as he sat down on the chair next to the bed.

“
Six other Spacers acting on your orders,” the reservist pointed out. “You thought of it, told them how to do it, and picked the right people to make sure it was well done. Like I said, we owe you.”

Steve flushed slightly. The flood of congratulations coming his way since yesterday’s fight had been overwhelming. He changed the subject.

“How are you feeling, Sir?”

“
As well as can be expected under the circumstances. There was a lot of pain at first, but they’re doping me with some really good stuff. I must admit, just after I’ve been dosed it brings back hazy, happy memories of a few incidents in my misspent youth — but don’t tell the Bureau of Security I said that!”

Steve chuckled. “I won’t, Sir. They do say BuSec doesn’t have much of a sense of humor.”

“In my experience, they definitely don’t!”

“
Where were you injured, Sir? I couldn’t tell from your spacesuit before they took you away yesterday. It looked as if both rounds struck your chest control panel.”

“
They did. That’s what saved me. Both rounds expended so much of their energy getting through the control panel and the electronics box behind it that they didn’t penetrate to my vital organs.”

“
Let’s hear it for tough control panels! When will you be up and about again, Sir?”

“
I’ll be transferred planetside soon, along with our other wounded, to recuperate at the Marine base hospital. It’s been a long time since I had leisure to stop and smell the roses, so to speak — although I don’t know if they even grow roses on Radetski. A week or two in atmosphere and natural gravity will be very nice, not to mention some real, actual
weather!”

Steve had to grin at the familiar plaint of all who spent long periods in space. “Have you heard how the others are doing, Sir? I haven’t been to their ward yet.”

“They’re all doing fine. Senior Chief Lamartine is the worst hit, but he’s going to be OK, they tell me. After a few weeks he’ll probably be discharged to his home on Nouveau–Montréal for a long convalescent leave before returning to duty.”

“
At least he won’t have to worry about terrorist attacks there, Sir.”

Dhruv grinned. “We may not have to worry so much about them on Radetski, either, at least for a while. I’m told a couple of
Leona’
s officers are talking up a storm, hoping for leniency. It seems terrorist sympathizers on other planets had to pay for this shipment in full, in advance, at black market prices, and pay a hefty smuggling premium on top of that because of the increased risk posed by our patrols. They’ve just lost their entire investment. To add insult to injury, the weapons they bought will likely be added to the UP shipment and handed over to Radetski.”

Steve smiled nastily. “Actually, Sir, if the terrorists are going to get shot with their own weapons, that would be more like adding injury to insult.”

“Ha!
You have a point. I doubt their friends will be able to raise enough to pay for a replacement shipment, because the leads we get from
Leona’
s crew will be used to go after them. They’re going to need all their money to run fast enough to stay ahead of the law.”