Spears of the Sun (Star Sojourner Book 3) (22 page)

Yes. You must act within your lifebind, but understand, Jules, that all is impermanent, including your homeworld. When you relinquish your attachment to it, you will know peace.

You ask too much.

I ask nothing.

I'll know peace when Earth is saved,
I sent.

Then know, Sojourner, that if you slip into geth, we will welcome you and heal your troubled soul.

Thank you, Gwis. You were always compassionate.

I have worked on it for many lifebinds. I feel that you are probing for the location of the BioSuits.

Can you see where they're kept?

On the other side of the control room, inside the lifeboat, which is inside the airlock.

The other side. We just never get a break!

I heard voices from the control room.

“Where in the red hazes of First Moon are those two?” the captain said. “Did they go back to Fartherland for the volup drinks and the Terran rolls?”

A short Guard stood up. “I will see what they are engaged in, my captain.” He walked toward the door.

“Shit!”

Shannon and I slid under bunks as the short Guard opened the door and shuffled by.

We had bare minutes now before he discovered his two companions in the storeroom.

Ducts! The utility ducts. They ran the length of ships with access through service doors. There was a door in the storeroom.

I crawled out from under the bunk, unholstered my stingler, and motioned to Shannon to come out.

“We have to get back to the storeroom,” I whispered. “Ducts.”

“Ducts?”

“I'll explain later.”

We padded quietly into the storeroom. The Guard had found his two companions. He was untying a sock from his comrade's snout. “But how, Zygeith,” he asked the conscious Guard, “did one Terran woman, tied to a column, manage to escape and bring about this carnage?”

The tied Guard's eyes bulged and he attempted to talk when he saw us behind his companion.

“Wait! Can't you?” the short Guard said “You can explain it all as soon as I get this smelly sock off your nose.”

I spun the stingler to stun and zapped them both. I wanted no witnesses to see me and Shannon go through the service door.

“Come on, lass.” I opened the door and crawled into the duct.

She followed me. “What's ye plan?”

I explained about the BioSuits and the location of the dark-energy weapon on the outside of the hull.

“How did ye know all o' that? Ye be in touch with the Great God Himself, now.”

“Close.”

Through a slotted vent in the duct at the control room, I saw the captain stare grimly at the door to the sleeping quarters. His snout twitched. He stood up. The five Guards at the table looked at each other and also got to their feet. “General Rowdinth,” the captain said, “something is not right. I intend to see for myself what the wrong might be.”

Rowdinth waved him toward the door in a distracted manner and stared glumly at the computer's projected holo. The captain went out the door followed by his Guards.

“How much longer, Terran?” I heard Rowdinth demand as Shannon and I continued quietly through the duct.

“No more than a half hour, my lord,” George responded.

“Or less than?” Rowdinth asked.

“”No less than ten minutes.”

Ten minutes!
I thought.

I opened the next service door a crack and peered out. It was a small room with a metallic smell, banks of instruments, and the wall-to-wall inner hatch to the airlock. Voices from the control room came through a short hallway without doors.

“This is it!” I whispered to Shannon and went into the room.

She followed me. “Aye, we've made it this far.”

“Yeah, and miles to go,” I said. I threw the switches on the wall panel and watched the iris plates of the hatch open like a lens to the airlock and the lifeboat.

We went through and I closed the hatch and locked it manually. Now it couldn't be opened, not even from the ship's security station.

Shannon found the BioSuits inside the lifeboat and brought out two that were designed for the Terran scientists. She held them up with a questioning look.

I nodded.

She had never been in space before. I helped her into the white, form-fitting suit and sealed it. “You look great in a BioSuit,” I said, to lighten things up.

She laughed. “Tis nice that ye noticed fer a change.”

“Here, look, Shannon.” I showed her the sealant packet inside a pocket for small breaches in the elastic suit. “If there's a puncture from a micrometeor or an abrasion, peel one of these strips and press it over the hole, OK?”

She nodded, but she looked frightened as I lowered the helmet over her head. I smiled with a reassurance I didn't feel and turned on her life-support system, then sealed the helmet. “Take this,” I said, and clamped one of the stinglers onto a metal tool band around her waist. “You see these nozzles?” I pointed to the ones that protruded from her backpack. “It's a maneuvering system.” I showed her the controls on her chest pad. “Just stay close to me. We're going out untethered.” I knocked on her helmet with a light fist. “That's it, kid. We can talk to each other through the mics.”

She smiled. “But what if I get an itch on me cheek?”

“Just don't try to scratch it.” I climbed into the other suit and attached the stingler. I didn't want to tell her that we could never come back to the ship. Even if we tried to, they wouldn't pressurize the lock for us. She was smart, though, and I'm sure she surmised as much.

A wall panel light flashed red. Pumps thumped on and began to suck out the air.

Uh oh,
I thought.

“They've discovered us!” Shannon cried. She quickly helped me seal my suit. But before I could fit on the helmet, I felt sharp pains in my ears and gasped to draw in breath as the lock depressurized. I leaned against the lifeboat but kept listing to my right side as the room spun. Shannon came after me with the helmet, shoved it over my head and locked it in place. She turned on my life support system and I breathed deeply as air rushed into the helmet. I felt blood trickle from my right ear and pressed my hands against the helmet. “I think my eardrums are ruptured.”

“They're trying to open the hatch!” she said.

My hearing had dulled and it was as though she spoke through a tunnel. “They can't. Help me to the outer door.”

She took my arm and guided me there. The panel lights went out as all systems were shut down. I turned the mechanical wheel and the door opened to deep space.

Shannon gasped at the splendor of endless stars.

“Hold on!” I told her as the gravity adjusters shut down.

We used hand and foot holds to climb onto the outer hull. The dizziness came in waves and I had to stop each time until it cleared.

“There it is,” Shannon said through the mic and pointed toward the engines.

In the stark shadows of space, I saw the dark-energy weapon, housed within its mirrored bubble, and mounted on a pedestal that probably contained the control cables. The heart of the weapon, a red globe within the transparent center, held a golden kernel rimmed by blue light. The golden light pulsed and spun as the beam concentrated dark energy and forced the distant black hole toward Sol's outer reaches. Gases roiled around the hole as it ate, and sucked in light.

It was a surreal scene, set against the crystal night of space, with our own star shining like a distant memory.

I forgot the pain in my ears as we made our way toward the dark-energy weapon for a clear shot. Four cameras surrounding the pedestal swiveled to track us. The ship lurched. They were trying to shake us loose. I gripped a handhold tighter, but I heard Shannon scream as she was thrown off.

“I'm coming!” I shouted into the mic. “It's all right. I'm coming.”

She fumbled with the jet controls but only managed to propel herself further away from the ship.

The weapon rotated in our direction. I zapped the reflective housing with my stingler as it swung toward me. It swiveled back again to protect the vulnerable heart of the beam. What would concentrated dark energy do to the human body? I had no idea and I was not anxious to find out.

I zapped the four cameras with a sweep of the stingler. Sparks burst from them but died quickly in the vacuum of space. I could just picture Rowdinth in a screaming rage because I had blinded his ship. I allowed myself a smirk as I went after Shannon. I caught her arm. “I've got you,” I said.

She looked terrified, drifting out there in the void.

“It's OK. I've got you.” I jetted us to the belly of the ship, out of the weapon's range.

The ship lurched again, like a whale trying to shake off sharks, but these two sharks had a mission to accomplish.

“Look, Jules,” she said shakily and pointed.

Among the stars I saw a distant formation of moving lights. The Alpha fleet had jumped and was approaching. But from George's estimation of the time he needed to push the black hole into our system, the fleet would arrive way too late. All they could do was to chase and destroy this ship, but the black hole would have already wreaked havoc on Earth and the sun itself.

I unclamped my stingler and nodded toward Shannon's weapon. She looked scared but determined as she unclamped her weapon. “May the road rise up to meet ye,” she said shakily and attempted a smile.

An Irish blessing, I guess. “For you too.” I smiled back, though my stomach was knotted with fear for both of us, and my ears stung as though daggers were poking at them. “Shannon, if you get the chance, aim for the yellow center of the weapon. Your stingler will only bounce off the mirror casing. The beam could even come back at you.”

“I'll do me best. But if the Good Lord wanted us out here in the void, he would've given us something to hold onto so we would na feel so lost!”

“You've got me to hold onto, lass. Wish I could kiss you.” I pointed. “You go that way around the hull, and hold on tight! I'll go the other way. One of us should be able to hit that brainchild from hell.”

I climbed the handholds and made my way around the hull.

The dark-energy weapon swiveled away from us to protect its heart from our weapons as we approached it from opposite sides. I held on as the thrusters fired and turned the craft at an angle, and again the weapon was pointed at the black hole, but away from us.

“ChristBuddha!” I muttered, “give us a break.”

I moved from handhold to handhold with the stingler attached to the tool belt. I saw Shannon climbing the rungs on the other side of the hull, but neither of us could get a clear shot.

Wait a minute! If we destroyed the weapon now, the black hole would just continue on its current course. What was I thinking? The mastermind physicist had already accomplished General Rowdinth's purpose. Rat face need only to watch the fireworks on the computer's holo from the comfort of his chair.

“Shannon!” I called through the mic, “Wait! Don't hit the weapon. I'm going after it.”

“What do ye mean, 'after it'?”

“It's too late to destroy it. It's already done its damage. I'm going to try to make it direct the black hole away from our solar system.”

“I'll back ye up, lad, if ye need help. Just let me know what ye want me to do.”

“OK, kid,” I said as another wave of dizziness hit. “But just hang on. They'll probably keep trying to shake us off.”

The dizziness passed and I saw the lights from the fleet growing brighter as they approached. “There's a chance they'll pick us up when this is over.”

“An' if they don't, lad. I'll be seeing ye in the next life.”

“All things considered, Shannon, that's a possibility.”

“Look out, Jules!” Shannon shouted.

Two small turrets had opened on either side of the weapon. Beam guns rose and snapped out blue light. They went over my head, but the guns were adjusting to target me, possibly tuned to body heat or brain waves. I detached my stingler and hit one with a hot, steady beam. The turret's gun barrel melted. I swung toward the other gun, but Shannon had already beamed it.

“Thanks, lass!” I said into the mic and climbed the weapon's pedestal. I wrapped my legs around it and grasped the handles on either side of the s housing. An intense vibration shook my fingers, but there was no sound here in the vacuum of space. The beam was locked onto the black hole. That was OK, but I couldn't move the housing to redirect it.

I opened the panel on the pedestal's back. The controls were written in Stelspeak, as I'd hoped. Among the row of buttons were a SHUT-OFF button and an emergency SHUT DOWN ALL SYSTEMS. I hit the red button for DIRECT BEAM. That was the one I would use to direct the black hole away from the solar system.

Dammit! It stayed red. I hit it a few more times, but it stubbornly glowed red. George must be overriding from the biocomputer.

OK. Plan B. I sent a tel probe and found his mind by his intense concentration on the computer. His ability to focus was intimidating.

Relinquish controls, I sent. You've done your work successfully. Congratulations. Now you want to relinquish controls.

Fuck you.

I looked around. Who had sent that? I probed his mind again.
You have been successful, George. Now you can expect your reward. Cancel override. It is no longer necessary. Cancel it.

Not until Earth is ripped apart, I haven't completed my project. But you and your paramour are both dead.

Uh oh. George was more than just a sensitive. The traitorous crotemunger was a telepath.

With dizziness assaulting my brain, and probably only minutes left to turn the black hole away from Sol, I imaged a red coil forming.

The housing suddenly grew snake heads. Fangs clamped down on my hands. There was no blood, but the pain was real. I let go of the housing and clutched my hands.
You traitorous bastard,
I sent.
You would destroy your own homeworld and all life on it for some pieces of gold! You are the slime at the bottom of the swamp.

Gold and recognition among the colonies for my advances in particle physics.