relation to Latimer. They touched helmets, establishing verbal communications.
"So what now, boss?"
"Christ, Em, what do we do?"
"We always have the powerpacks..."
"It'll be dangerous without safety cables," Latimer said. "It'd mean going out there and clinging to the wreckage until we made it around to level fourteen."
"We gotta do it," Emecheta said, and the inevitability in his voice sent a surge of dread through Latimer.
"Okay, fine. Tell the others."
While Emecheta turned, Latimer lowered himself towards the exit and peered out.
There would be plenty of hand-holds around the inside of the wrecked deck, and with the EVA suit's power-pack pushing them through the vacuum, there should be little danger.
They would have to be careful, he told himself. Take it easy...
He looked up and signalled to Emecheta.
He powered up his suit and dropped through the hatch. As he fell, the extent of the damage became apparent. It was as if the blast had taken a neat bite from the starship, removing a chunk of what had been level thirteen. No wonder Central had gone down, he thought.
If the 'bots and drones managed to get it up and running...
He tried not to follow that line of thought.
He steered himself along the underside of deck twelve, grabbing hand-holds to steady himself when he came up against the torn and twisted metal. He looked back: one by one the others emerged from the hole in the wreckage, looking in their black and yellow EVA suits like reluctant bees emerging from a hive.
Latimer stared ahead. He made out a cliff-face of sheered metal perhaps two hundred metres before him. If they could reach that and climb down the face, towards the ripped upper surface of level fourteen, then they might be able to find the entry-hatch of a shaft or an emergency tube and continue their descent.
He paused, hanging on what was effectively the ceiling like a fly, and waited for Emecheta and the others to reach him.
A minute later he touched helmets with the Nigerian and said: "So far, so good. We'll head for the wall and climb down, okay?"
"AOK. Look, down there." Emecheta pointed to what looked like the hatch of an emergency tube on the surface of the deck below them.
"We'll make for that," Latimer said. "Tell Serena and Jen."
Using the directional jets of his suit with care, Latimer eased his way towards the cliff-face and began the descent.
~
The first laser strike hit a flange of metal a metre to his left. Latimer started, losing his grip on the cliff-face and drifting, and this in all likelihood saved his life. The second laser strike slashed past him and hit the plane of metal which he had clung to seconds ago. He powered up his suit and fell towards the deck below, all caution gone now that he was under fire.
He hit the jagged surface feet first with an impact that jarred his knees painfully. He looked up. Emecheta was falling towards him, having realised the danger, but the women were still fly-crawling, with occasional short hops, down the cliff-face, seemingly oblivious of the attack.
Latimer caught Emecheta and held on, looking along the length of the sheered deck towards the source of the fire.
He made out the trilobite shape of a manufactory 'droid, five hundred meters away, loosing off a continual hail of laser fire. Emecheta hauled Latimer along the deck and into the cover of a flange of ruptured metal. Latimer held on to a twisted spar, regaining his breath. Emecheta was on his knees behind the flange, aiming along the deck with his rifle. Latimer joined him, bobbing, and brought the butt of his laser to his padded shoulder and fired in the direction of the trilobite.
Other drones and 'droids had joined battle, now. They popped up at random from holes and rents in the deck, fired off a quick laser pulse, and disappeared. Emecheta hit the trilobite — it went spinning off into the vacuum of space beyond the gaping hole in the side of the ship, but was soon replaced by another. Latimer accounted for
"So what now, boss?"
"Christ, Em, what do we do?"
"We always have the powerpacks..."
"It'll be dangerous without safety cables," Latimer said. "It'd mean going out there and clinging to the wreckage until we made it around to level fourteen."
"We gotta do it," Emecheta said, and the inevitability in his voice sent a surge of dread through Latimer.
"Okay, fine. Tell the others."
While Emecheta turned, Latimer lowered himself towards the exit and peered out.
There would be plenty of hand-holds around the inside of the wrecked deck, and with the EVA suit's power-pack pushing them through the vacuum, there should be little danger.
They would have to be careful, he told himself. Take it easy...
He looked up and signalled to Emecheta.
He powered up his suit and dropped through the hatch. As he fell, the extent of the damage became apparent. It was as if the blast had taken a neat bite from the starship, removing a chunk of what had been level thirteen. No wonder Central had gone down, he thought.
If the 'bots and drones managed to get it up and running...
He tried not to follow that line of thought.
He steered himself along the underside of deck twelve, grabbing hand-holds to steady himself when he came up against the torn and twisted metal. He looked back: one by one the others emerged from the hole in the wreckage, looking in their black and yellow EVA suits like reluctant bees emerging from a hive.
Latimer stared ahead. He made out a cliff-face of sheered metal perhaps two hundred metres before him. If they could reach that and climb down the face, towards the ripped upper surface of level fourteen, then they might be able to find the entry-hatch of a shaft or an emergency tube and continue their descent.
He paused, hanging on what was effectively the ceiling like a fly, and waited for Emecheta and the others to reach him.
A minute later he touched helmets with the Nigerian and said: "So far, so good. We'll head for the wall and climb down, okay?"
"AOK. Look, down there." Emecheta pointed to what looked like the hatch of an emergency tube on the surface of the deck below them.
"We'll make for that," Latimer said. "Tell Serena and Jen."
Using the directional jets of his suit with care, Latimer eased his way towards the cliff-face and began the descent.
~
The first laser strike hit a flange of metal a metre to his left. Latimer started, losing his grip on the cliff-face and drifting, and this in all likelihood saved his life. The second laser strike slashed past him and hit the plane of metal which he had clung to seconds ago. He powered up his suit and fell towards the deck below, all caution gone now that he was under fire.
He hit the jagged surface feet first with an impact that jarred his knees painfully. He looked up. Emecheta was falling towards him, having realised the danger, but the women were still fly-crawling, with occasional short hops, down the cliff-face, seemingly oblivious of the attack.
Latimer caught Emecheta and held on, looking along the length of the sheered deck towards the source of the fire.
He made out the trilobite shape of a manufactory 'droid, five hundred meters away, loosing off a continual hail of laser fire. Emecheta hauled Latimer along the deck and into the cover of a flange of ruptured metal. Latimer held on to a twisted spar, regaining his breath. Emecheta was on his knees behind the flange, aiming along the deck with his rifle. Latimer joined him, bobbing, and brought the butt of his laser to his padded shoulder and fired in the direction of the trilobite.
Other drones and 'droids had joined battle, now. They popped up at random from holes and rents in the deck, fired off a quick laser pulse, and disappeared. Emecheta hit the trilobite — it went spinning off into the vacuum of space beyond the gaping hole in the side of the ship, but was soon replaced by another. Latimer accounted for
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