Ten minutes later they could make out the receiving portal on Chimin-5, surrounded by a wide net.
“That’s encouraging,” Rogers muttered as the shell continued its approach.
“Just a precaution,” Ricket replied with a nervous smile.
The shell made small maneuvers to align with the portal, and the four grav arms that extended out into space. Rogers knew that deceleration would be as abrupt as the launch, and he wasn’t disappointed.
The shell shuddered as waves of antigravitons emanated from the four arms, rapidly slowing them before the shell slid into the receiving portal and down a long tube to the debarkation area.
As the shell slid to a stop, Rogers tossed Ricket a jaunty grin. “See? We survived.”
Ricket returned his smile. “I never doubted it.”
Rogers accessed the local public network and looked for status reports and updates. There was no update on Jim’s crew’s progress. In fact, there were no updates on anything. Everything was status quo, nothing of any interest other than progress on their schedule.
“Find anything?” Ricket asked. “It’s like this place is shut down.”
<There haven’t been any log entries for any of the teams in over a day. There’s supposed to be a management NSAI as well, but I’m getting no response from it,> Laura added. <Going to keep trying to reach it.>
Rogers shook his head. “Nothing saying, ‘hey the bad guys are in here’, if that’s what you’re asking’. Though I guess we can take no updates for days as a sign.”
“Well,” Ricket whispered. “Guess no one ever said this would be easy.”
Isn’t that the truth?
The top of the shell lifted off, and Rogers stepped onto the platform, followed closely by Ricket.
“Gravity is minimal here,” Ricket commented. “Less than half a g.”
Rogers nodded as he walked across the platform to the airlock leading into the station. He palmed the control, but it flashed red, reading ‘Invalid Tokens – Station Manager Access Only’.
“On it,” Ricket said, taking a knee as she began her work hacking the door.
Rogers leant against the bulkhead, rifle held across his chest as he peered through the airlock window. He could just make out the tunnel beyond, but only a short stretch was visible before it curved.
“One more second….” Ricket said and a moment later, the airlock door opened. She bounced up to her feet and gave him a triumphant smirk.
“Way to go. You ever think of being a cat burglar?” Rogers chuckled softly as they entered the airlock.
<Well, I am a spy. It’s like being a state-sponsored burglar. But before that I actually was one a while. That’s how the Hand recruited me initially. Caught with my hand in the cookie jar.>
<Don’t you mean cookie box?> Rogers asked.
<What?> Ricket cast him a confused look as the airlock cycled open.
<Nevermind,> Rogers replied, more curious about Ricket’s past than explaining that cookies came in boxes or bags, not jars. <The Hand sure has some interesting methods. You know, Kylie used to do work as a thief for Maverick, for a little while, as least. Back when she first got the Dauntless. She recruited me during one of those missions.>
<Really?> Ricket glanced at Rogers, raising her eyebrows as they advanced down the narrow tunnel. <She doesn’t talk much about her time under Maverick.>
<Can you blame her? Under is a funny choice of words, at least for me. I wouldn’t say it to Kylie, if you catch my meaning.>
<Kylie? I didn’t know that she was one of his…girls?>
One of his girls—it was one of the nicest ways there was to say Kylie had been a sex-slave, a gorgeous and elegant one at that, but didn’t change the truth. <Now that she’s no longer in his debt, owes him nothing, if we ever see him again, he better run.>
<Better run from me, too. I knew from Nadine’s reports that later on Kylie and Maverick had an…interesting relationship.>
<Defies complicated,> Rogers said.
<Nadine never explained that it was forced on her though. At least not to that extent. She only mentioned that Kylie was a junker for the GFF. I wonder if Petra knew, or if Nadine was fudging things to explain away her mission delays.>
<Love is tricky,> Rogers said.
<Yes,> Ricket said pointedly. <Sexual relationships between crew members on a small ship…it’s never a good idea.>
Rogers gave Ricket a pregnant look; her comment was a little too on the nose for him. Sure, he understood what it was she was saying, but she was playing at things as much as he was.
A few meters later, the tunnel opened up into a broad chamber. A corridor on their right bore a sign reading ‘Home Sweet Home’, and the facility’s public map listed it as crew quarters and dining services. Four other corridors—some raw rock without any dressing—led off to the refinery, and to three separate mines.
Ricket moved into the lead and Rogers took up the rear. What a rear it was. It was hard to focus on their surroundings with Ricket’s perky ass swaying side to side in front of him.
He tried to think of something else, like the sick workers down in Facility 99, or the smell of the place. Things that were decidedly un-sexy. At the memory of the odor, he coughed, then sneezed violently.
<You OK?> Ricket asked, sounding concerned.
<Oh, yeah, fine. Tickle in my throat, you know?>
They rounded a bend and came to a section of tunnel shrouded in darkness. The passageway thus far had been well lit, but now nothing. Hairs on the back of Rogers’ neck stood-up as his foot slipped on a loose rock. He regained his balance and froze, the tension in him mounting. He looked at the overhead and saw that one of the power lines had been cut.
<Can’t see a thing,> Rogers said as he peered down the tunnel.
<Use your flow armor, it has night vision,> Ricket said.
<Shoot, keep forgetting what this stuff can do.>
Once the armor was over his face, it replaced his vision with its feed, and the tunnel lit up in startling clarity. The darkened section of tunnel was half filled with crates and ore haulers. Anything could be hiding in there.
Rogers sensed, more than saw, that there were people lurking in behind them.
“We’re not your enemy!” Rogers called out. “We’re here to get help for Chimin-1’s structural damage, people are in danger. We need you to come back with us.”
He saw the nose of a rifle peek around a crate, angling toward them.
“Don’t do it!” Ricket screamed. “We know you’re there. You have no element of surprise!”
On their left, another man was creeping up from behind a stack of crates with a kinetic slug thrower. Rogers knew Ricket couldn’t see it—neither could he, but he could sense it the same way he’d felt the vibrations on Chimin-1. <Get down, Ricket, down!>
Rogers reached out and pulled her back a moment before the enemy darted around the corner and fired a shot. Ricket pulled him backward and they fell into an ore bin and flipped it over, falling in a heap.
Ricket grunted but struggled up into a crouch as gunfire erupted around them. She pressed her back against Rogers’ as she returned fire. <I’m glad they’re being so helpful.>
<At least our experiences in Chimin are consistent,> Rogers said.
<Four more coming on your side. Three on mine. Let’s end this fast as we can. I’m reading warm bodies further down.>
Rogers broke cover, aiming and squeezing off rounds by pure instinct. He didn’t know what it was about piloting the Barbaric Queen, but it seemed to have enhanced his reflexes, giving him speed like Kylie and Lana had.
<Let’s hope they give us a warmer reception than these goons,> Rogers replied.
Behind him, he heard a weapon’s barrel sing through the air, aiming in his direction, and he ducked before the shot was even fired
, spinning and shooting the attacker, then turning toward another enemy and putting a round in the woman’s neck.
Ricket glanced at Rogers, a mixture of concern and awe in her eyes. <Is there something you want to tell me, Rogers?>
Tell her? That what, he could sense things moments before it happened? <Instinct and adrenaline, nothing more.>
<Sure,> Ricket said, but Rogers could make out the doubt in her voice.
A minute later, their attackers were all down—which Rogers and Ricket double checked before carefully clearing corners and blind spots.
<Oh shit,> Ricket said as they came upon a stack of the same canisters from Facility 99.
‘Oh shit’ was right. No one was working around here because it was being used as a storage facility. <Damn. These guys must be with Papote too.>
Ricket nodded. <Either that, or they were radicalized after Raynes—whatever the hell his name is—arrived. We need to find him and end this.>
<Maybe this is where he ran off to,> Rogers said, continuing his cautious advance down the tunnel. <C’mon, let’s find out.>
<Roger that,> Ricket said, devoid of humor. <What I wouldn’t give for Kylie’s nano,> she muttered. <Or even a few drones—need to stock back up on those.>
<I thought the ISF would have given Hand agents their fancy new nano,> Rogers replied as they cleared the last stack of crates.
<Field Marshal Richards is tight-fisted with some of the ISF’s tech. Kylie and Lana got to keep theirs because she felt guilty. It didn’t extend to the rest of us.>
<What reason could she have?> Rogers asked.
<I guess she’s worried about another problem like Silstrand and Gedri just had. It’s not irrational, but it sucks for us.>
They moved further down the tunnel, into a section where the lights were working again, and Rogers glanced at Ricket, only to see that she was giving him a penetrating stare.
<Speaking of advanced tech, maybe now isn’t a good time to talk about what’s happening to you, but if it affects combat…how we work as a team, I really need to know.>
Rogers twisted his lips, considering his response. He didn’t want to hide the changes he was experiencing, but whenever he brought them up, people acted like he was in some sort of danger and needed to be fixed.
Still, she was right about the need for a team to understand each other’s strengths and weaknesses.
<My response time is faster. On the ship I can do comps in my head I never could before. Burns, maneuvers, even FTL jump calculations. I’m getting faster and better. Nothing to worry about.>
<Everything you just said doesn’t scare you? Changes like that aren’t natural; it points to brain-altering shit…shit we don’t understand. The captain would want to know—don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true.>
<And then she’ll fix it. You tell her, and she won’t give me a choice. You know she can’t handle the idea of little ol’ me getting hurt.>
<So you admit there’s a risk,> Ricket said, glaring at Rogers through her helmet’s visor.
<I admit that Kylie babies me, just like you’re doing.>
<That’s not true!> Ricket smacked his arm with the butt of her gun and scowled.
Rogers turned and faced her. <It is true. Neither of you think I can handle myself.>
<I know you can handle yourself, Rogers. I just…care. Your eyes don’t revert back to normal as quickly as they used to. Even when they do, I see something different in them. You can’t pretend it’s not happening. If you don’t tell Kylie, she’ll still know. She’s not stupid, and neither are you.>
Rogers sighed. He liked that Ricket cared enough to badger him but didn’t really care for the actual lectures. <I know you like me, Ricket. I like you too, but maybe it’s time for you to stop acting like my mom.>
Ricket gave an indignant squeak. <Your mom!?>
<Instead, maybe just have my back. Be a partner. OK?>
Slowly, she nodded. <I didn’t mean…Of course, Rogers. You’re right.>
He grinned his best roguish grin. <Care to say that again?>
She smacked his arm with the butt of her rifle again, this time harder. <You’re impossible.>
That’s what all the ladies said, but he didn’t think that was a good point to bring up just then. Instead, he gestured at a windowless plasteel door on their left.
They walked over to it and Rogers palmed the control, only have it display a red message reading ‘Access Denied’ while emitting a rapid beeping sound.
<This door has an attitude problem,> Rogers said.
Ricket crouched beside the panel and keyed in a command. <Biolock on this one. Going to take a bit longer, but we’ll get through.>
<Behind the door?>
Ricket glanced up at him, her brown eyes wide, warm. The type of eyes he wanted to get lost in forever. <I can pick up the sounds of feet, low voices. Sounds like people to me—maybe even Jim and his crew.>
<Better get started then.> Rogers checked the time mapped against the amount of air Chimin-1 was probably bleeding through all the fractured rock. Damn, they had been here too long already. <Work fast. Faster than that, if you can.>
He took a deep breath, glancing up and down the corridor. How did Kylie deal with this pressure all the time? Where was she? Rogers knew he’d feel better if he just knew she was OK.
A lot better.
THE CLIMB
STELLAR DATE: 11.05.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Chimin City, Maintenance Shaft 917A
REGION: Chimin-1, Hanoi System (independent)
Kylie hooked her arm around the next ladder rung and groaned. Allowing herself to hang for a moment, she closed her eyes and sighed. Her forehead was covered in a layer of sweat and grime, and her legs shook from exhaustion. She didn’t know how many rungs she had climbed, but it was way too many.
Even though the door was in sight, Kylie didn’t know if she could go on. Her arm was nearly fully healed, but the pain was still there—and she struggled with her fatigue.
<Battery levels at fifty-five percent. You’re almost there, Kylie. If you want another surge of adrenaline to make it all the way—> Marge began to offer.
<No.> Kylie shook her head in response. <I’ll get too shaky, I need to…I just needed a little bit of rest. When we get to the door I might need it then.>
<All right.> Marge’s avatar smiled. <I believe in you. You’ve got this, girl.>
Despite herself—and the situation—Kylie chuckled. She drew a deep breath, and lifted her foot back to the next rung, resuming her ascent. One rung, then two, she kept pulling and climbing, using her good arm to do most of the heavy lifting.
The door above was almost within reach. It was on the left side of the shaft, and there should have been a platform beneath it, but it was long gone, either fallen ages ago, or salvaged by some enterprising soul. Kylie sighed and climbed another rung, then two. <It’s always something….>
<Ain’t that the truth?> Marge gave a soft giggle.
Kylie was glad one of them had kept their sense of humor.
She drew level with the door, and Kylie leant over, grasping the ladder rail with her right hand and doing her best to ignore the pain in her forearm.
She brushed her fingers across the access panel, but it didn’t light up. Damn it, it was like the entire place was either falling apart, or on lockdown.
<Captain….> It was Bubbs’ voice. Though it was breaking up, Kylie could recognize the growling drawl anywhere. <Captain?>
<Bubbs!> Kylie couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. She shifted back to the ladder, both arms wrapped around the rungs, even hooking her chin over the bar to conserve strength. <Bubbs?>
<Come in, Captain. Come in.>
Bubbs couldn’t hear her. Kylie squeezed her eyes shut in disappointment. When she opened them back up, a surge of determination flowing through her, unlike anything she’d felt since…oh about rung one hundred or so.
<Do we have enough breach nano to attempt a hotw
ire on the door? See if we can get power to the motors.>
<We have some,> Marge said, all business again. <Not a ton, but they’ll have to do. Stand by.>
Kylie waited as patiently as she could, managing her breathing and conserving her strength. A few minutes later, Marge gave a victorious cry and the door swung part-way open.
<OK, now to summon the strength to jump over there.>
<Climb up a few more rungs,> Marge advised.
Kylie nodded wordlessly and pulled herself up another meter.
<Marge?>
<Yes, Kylie?>
<After this…I never want to see another ladder in my life.>
Marge chuckled. <I’ll have Winter rip them out of the ship when this is over.>
<Good. Glad to hear it.>
She drew a deep breath, bent her knees, praying they wouldn’t give out, and leapt across the two meters to the open door.
Kylie’s arms made it over the sill, but she bounced back from the impact, and scrambled frantically to find purchase. She managed to hook her right arm around the doorframe and her backward slide stopped.
She breathed heavily, clenching her teeth to avoid screaming from the pain as her right arm’s ulna cracked again. With one final heave, she pulled herself through the door and rolled onto her back, gasping for breath.
After a minute, she turned her head and spotted another door. This one’s panel was lit up, and Kylie rolled over and crawled toward it while cradling her right arm across her chest.
Once the door was open, she pulled herself up on the frame and stood, wobbling on her feet.
<We’re not that far from the North Docks access corridor. Just five hundred meters.>
<Five hundred…> Kylie moaned, looking down the corridor, praying that someone had left a dockcar nearby. No such luck.
She staggered down the passageway and onto the concourse that ran to the North Docks.
A group of women and men ran past her, looks of panic and worry on their faces, barely even acknowledging Kylie as they rushed by.
I wonder what that’s all about, Kylie thought before seeking Rogers over the Link. <Rogers, you still there?>