twisted out to meet the oncoming drones and their burden. The arachnid-like robots doused the surface of the derelict with coolant. The ship’s skin was glossy and distorted, an unbroken sheet of rippling glass.
The hauling tethers had nothing to latch onto. They slid repeatedly off the hulk.
“Bean?”
“Captain. Do I have to remind you that I am not a mining vessel? My tethers are designed for ship and cargo container hauling. This colony ship is a small asteroid.”
“Switch to manual and I’ll give it a shot.”
“What makes you think you have a better chance of securing the colony ship than a computer?” Bean asked.
“Watch and learn, Bean.”
Panels in the top of both control couch arms slid open. Six small joysticks protruded from each panel; one by one, a green light winked on at the tips of the controls.
“Manual control engaged, Captain.” An overlay shimmered into view directly in front of him; it showed the slagheap, the tethers, and Bean.
“Rotate camera Alt 50 degrees, Azimuth 90. The friggin ’ thing looks like a potato.”
Gerald began to manipulate six of the twelve joysticks using his fingertips, sending the tethers toward the dead colony ship. Three of the shining lengths of segmented metal cable slid beneath the target while the other three slithered across the top. The tethers met at the aft of the target and tied themselves together. The remaining tethers snaked out and Gerald manipulated them in the same fashion as the first six, only perpendicular to the first set, effectively netting in the bloated, misshapen colony ship.
“Viola. Simple as that, Bean-bag.”
“I hate when you call me that,” Bean said. The synthesized voice sounded wounded.
“Like you have feelings.”
“My complexity would surprise even you, Captain Sensitivity.” Bean paused. “The hauling configuration is not stable. I fear the tethers will not hold the colony ship indefinitely.”
“Who said anything about indefinitely? We just have to get it back to Crescent.”
(•••)
Bean shook violently when the sub-light engines disengaged.
“What the hell was that?” Gerald gripped the arms of the control couch.
“That was the colony ship decelerating at a different rate from us, and there is another problem.”
“And that is?”
“The colony ship is about to hit us.”
Gerald was thrown hard against the restraints, the wind belched out of his lungs. Crescent, Anrar III, and cold space spiraled in the viewport. A klaxon began to wail as the hull moaned. Gerald caught his breath and watched as several of Bean’s drones—smashed nearly beyond recognition—floated by the viewport. Bits of hull drifted like metallic confetti in the wake of the robot carcasses. The ship’s structure groaned again. This time, louder.
“Bean! Status! And turn off the goddamned alarm.”
“Captain. The drone bay has been ruptured. The ship will depressurize any second now.”
“Oh crap.”
“I recommend you put on your EV suit.”
Gerald was out of the control couch and across the small bridge in an eyeblink . The emergency locker was open and he was ripping off his pants and then his shirt. Bean began to vibrate beneath his feet.
“Detach the tethers, Bean. Get control of the ship and bring us in. Send out a distress call to ATC and get the pattern cleared.” He pulled on the close-fitting pants and the jacket of the life suit. The hem of the jacket sealed itself to the pants with a muted, sucking sound. Next came the helmet. It was almost too small for his head. Gerald wished he had tried the damn thing on before he bought it. He forced it on and heard the click of the seal. His neck was scrunched and already beginning to cramp. In short, quick I-have-to-pee-really-bad strides, Gerald dashed back to the control couch and strapped in. The maintenance bulkhead that led to the smashed drone bay blew out and there were thirty roaring seconds of escaping atmosphere and several loud crashes as
The hauling tethers had nothing to latch onto. They slid repeatedly off the hulk.
“Bean?”
“Captain. Do I have to remind you that I am not a mining vessel? My tethers are designed for ship and cargo container hauling. This colony ship is a small asteroid.”
“Switch to manual and I’ll give it a shot.”
“What makes you think you have a better chance of securing the colony ship than a computer?” Bean asked.
“Watch and learn, Bean.”
Panels in the top of both control couch arms slid open. Six small joysticks protruded from each panel; one by one, a green light winked on at the tips of the controls.
“Manual control engaged, Captain.” An overlay shimmered into view directly in front of him; it showed the slagheap, the tethers, and Bean.
“Rotate camera Alt 50 degrees, Azimuth 90. The friggin ’ thing looks like a potato.”
Gerald began to manipulate six of the twelve joysticks using his fingertips, sending the tethers toward the dead colony ship. Three of the shining lengths of segmented metal cable slid beneath the target while the other three slithered across the top. The tethers met at the aft of the target and tied themselves together. The remaining tethers snaked out and Gerald manipulated them in the same fashion as the first six, only perpendicular to the first set, effectively netting in the bloated, misshapen colony ship.
“Viola. Simple as that, Bean-bag.”
“I hate when you call me that,” Bean said. The synthesized voice sounded wounded.
“Like you have feelings.”
“My complexity would surprise even you, Captain Sensitivity.” Bean paused. “The hauling configuration is not stable. I fear the tethers will not hold the colony ship indefinitely.”
“Who said anything about indefinitely? We just have to get it back to Crescent.”
(•••)
Bean shook violently when the sub-light engines disengaged.
“What the hell was that?” Gerald gripped the arms of the control couch.
“That was the colony ship decelerating at a different rate from us, and there is another problem.”
“And that is?”
“The colony ship is about to hit us.”
Gerald was thrown hard against the restraints, the wind belched out of his lungs. Crescent, Anrar III, and cold space spiraled in the viewport. A klaxon began to wail as the hull moaned. Gerald caught his breath and watched as several of Bean’s drones—smashed nearly beyond recognition—floated by the viewport. Bits of hull drifted like metallic confetti in the wake of the robot carcasses. The ship’s structure groaned again. This time, louder.
“Bean! Status! And turn off the goddamned alarm.”
“Captain. The drone bay has been ruptured. The ship will depressurize any second now.”
“Oh crap.”
“I recommend you put on your EV suit.”
Gerald was out of the control couch and across the small bridge in an eyeblink . The emergency locker was open and he was ripping off his pants and then his shirt. Bean began to vibrate beneath his feet.
“Detach the tethers, Bean. Get control of the ship and bring us in. Send out a distress call to ATC and get the pattern cleared.” He pulled on the close-fitting pants and the jacket of the life suit. The hem of the jacket sealed itself to the pants with a muted, sucking sound. Next came the helmet. It was almost too small for his head. Gerald wished he had tried the damn thing on before he bought it. He forced it on and heard the click of the seal. His neck was scrunched and already beginning to cramp. In short, quick I-have-to-pee-really-bad strides, Gerald dashed back to the control couch and strapped in. The maintenance bulkhead that led to the smashed drone bay blew out and there were thirty roaring seconds of escaping atmosphere and several loud crashes as
Similar Books
