Read Online Blood and Fire by David Gerrold - Free Book Online

airlock popped open and the mission team began filing quickly into the cramped space of the airlock tube.
    â€œMr. Korie—” Parsons said quietly into her headset.
    â€œCaptain?” His voice came back through her earphone.
    â€œLet’s be careful out there.”
    Hearing that over his suit-phones, Korie smiled in recognition. It had been the watchword on Parson’s first ship, the Michael Conrad . Maybe it could be the watchword here too. Certainly, it should be.
    Hodel saw Korie’s smile. He’d heard the captain’s instructions, but not having the same background as Korie, he saw it as a straight line needing a topper. Ever the comedian, he poked Wasabe in the ribs and added, “Yep. Watch out for sparkle-dancers and man-eating tribbles.”
    â€œA man-eating tribble?” Wasabe asked.
    â€œSome men will eat anything,” Hodel replied blandly, reaching for a handhold.
    Korie, Bach, Hodel, Shibano, Berryman and Easton lined up in three rows of two in the airlock tube. As the hatch popped shut behind them, each grabbed one of the handholds above—this was a precaution in case of sudden decompression. Not that they expected it, but it was part of the drill.
    â€œWe’re green,” said Korie. “Do it.”
    Through their suits they could hear the mechanical sounds of clamps engaging and locking—additional fail-safes on all the hatches. The deep heterodyning note of the repulsors was more noticeable here ; an almost palpable sensation that made the hair on the back of the neck stand up in dismay.
    Korie studied a display on the bulkhead. “Tube pressure confirmed here,” he reported.
    For a moment, nothing happened, then—

Boarding

    The hatch opened slowly, revealing the interior of the transfer tube. The semi-translucent material of the tube looked solid, an illusion of air pressure. The presence of the looming red star seeped through the membrane; one side of the tube was dark, the other glowed with a brooding crimson tint. Railings extended the length of the tube to provide handholds for the starsuited crew. Exterior to both ships, the transfer tube was a null-gravity zone.
    Standard procedure would have been to leap out into free fall and coast across.
    But not here, not now. Not with the repulsor fields throbbing.
    The fields were a physical presence, like invisible surf pushing them inexorably forward. Coming from the other direction, it would have felt like pushing through gelatin and spiderwebs and elastic; it would have felt as if the air had been thickened . Moving with the pressure was like riding a rising balloon. It was a tangible sensation. The mission team grabbed handholds on the railings and let themselves be pushed along.
    The combined strength of three concentric fields was focused into the transfer tube. The power expenditure to maintain a palpable force of this strength was enormous. The Star Wolf had shut down all of her non-essential systems to maintain this safety barrier.
    Korie had never moved through such a strong field before and it gave him a queasy sensation in his gut as the pressure worked on his internal organs. And then, abruptly, he was through the thickest part of the field and coming up to the outer hatch of the Norway ’s forward airlock. Even so, he could still feel a residual push.
    Korie turned and watched as the entire mission team came across. Lt. Bach was the last to exit the Star Wolf ’s airlock. Korie reported, “All right. We’re clear. Seal the hatch.” It popped shut with a hard mechanical thump—the Star Wolf was secure. And as soon as the Norway ’s hatch was opened, the mission team would be regarded as contaminated ...
    Hodel was watching a set of readouts on the arm of his suit. “Pressure is equalized to the Norway ,” he announced.
    Korie acknowledged the report and turned forward to the Norway ’s forward hatch. He held an entry card against a reader