Edward M Lerner A New Order of Things 4 of 4

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would set them all free.
* * * *
Glory and revenge.
If Mashkith was correct, deadly force would be required to eliminate this peril.
He could more quickly reach Lothwer again, if he was correct than he could
overcome the inevitable questions and doubts of crewpersons asked to attack on
sight one of their own. And any random crewman or woman whose help he sought
might turn out to be an ally of Lothwer.
Mashkith sped through the long corridors, ignoring the surprised expressions
on those he jostled in his haste. His worst collision coincided with another of the
occasional wobbles that continued to disable the fusion drive. Panting, he entered
Renown, still docked where it had returned from the rescue of Valorous. The herd
lifeboat remained in the belly of Renown. And in the belly of that lifeboat remained
enough antimatter to spawn a cataclysm.
Corridor surveillance showed Lothwer, carrying a bulky satchel, approaching
the airlock whose flexible docking tube Mashkith had just crossed.
Mashkith triggered a release, and the docking tube drifted free of Renown.
No closer.
Only a moment s delay, netted back Lothwer, his avatar insolent in tone and
pose. His pack floated as he struggled to get into one of the emergency pressure
suits stored by the docking bay.
A sufficient delay. Mashkith slapped the emergency power-up. He buckled
himself into the pilot seat as fuel pumps pressurized for the chemical maneuvering
rockets.
No! Lothwer stopped mid-change and slapped the airlock s emergency
override. Both hatches slid open. Lothwer jetted out with the escaping air, mouth
agape, screaming to release the gases bubbling out of his lungs. He slammed into the
hull of Renown, not far from its airlock, the bulging pack hanging by its strap from
his hand.
The pumps were barely pressurized. They might suffice to make the engines
sputter; they would not quickly move a warship. Mashkith fired the forward attitude
jets anyway. An edge of flame washed over Lothwer. Mind to mind, he screamed.
The flames detonated the explosives in the satchel. Mashkith s final thought,
as he lost consciousness, was relief that the shrieking had stopped.
* * * *
New screeching roused Mashkith from his stupor. Vaguely, he decided, the
noise resembled a vacuum alarm. The sound was too weak for a vacuum alarm,
though, and it was fading fast....
He straightened in his seat with a start, fighting to undo the buckles he had just
struggled to fasten. He screamed, open-mouthed, as Lothwer had moments ago.
Mashkith s lungs ached, and beneath their nictitating membranes his eyeballs felt on
the verge of rupture by the time he had an emergency patch in place. As cabin
pressure returned, he sprayed about liberally with a fire extinguisher. Then he
checked status.
Renown s nose had crumpled. Its co-pilot and astrogator consoles were
reduced to sparking, smoking scrap. The pilot s console was sufficiently operable to
show a spectrum of alarms in near and far red. A glance through the main viewport
revealed Renown slowly recoiling from the docking airlocks. Crunching noises
overhead proved a slight vertical component of motion that had not been visually
certain. Scraping persisted as the ship continued its backward slide.
How long before the lifeboat s antimatter containment system failed?
The fifth internal sensor he tried imaged the interior of the scoop tank. The
lifeboat Lothwer had dubbed Valorous had torn loose from its moorings and was in
a slow spin. Its cockpit viewport pulsed with the painfully bright yellow lights used
by the herd for its alarms.
* * * *
Art awoke instantly to the TEOTWAWKI alert from Mashkith. Dr. Walsh, I
cannot overemphasize the urgency of this communication. This translator derives
from the one you call Pashwah. If that AI is not totally trusted by you, link in any
you choose.
Joe, Art netted. Done.
An act of suicidal sabotage has occurred. One of my crew. A smoke-filled
cockpit pulsating luridly replaced Mashkith s avatar. In the hold of this warship, the
only fully fueled Centaur lifeboat, the lifeboat your people pursued, is about to lose [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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