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Authors: Doug Dandridge
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them won’t think of the bomb and
come to check on it. Especially when no one answers their com calls from this
area.
The scientist came running back after climbing
the stairs, a stout device held in his hands that he didn’t seem to be having
any difficulty moving. Following him were the other three men, each with a
similar device in hand.
“What are those?” asked Cornelius, as the scientist
attached his near the front side of the container.
“Antigravs,” said the man, supervising the
installation of the second unit near the front, while Satrusalya made sure the
other two were secured to the rear. “They make it much easier to move objects
in the cargo areas. Activating, now,” he said, pushing a button on the first
one he had attached.
The heavy bomb rose slightly into the air, now
a couple of centimeters above the floor.
“Help me get it to the hatch,” said Boudreaux,
grabbing the handle on the unit and lifting.
Cornelius grabbed another handle, and four men
pushed the bomb toward the hatch. The antigravs took all the weight, but the
massive device still had all of its mass, and they had to maneuver it
carefully, not allowing it to build up too much momentum as they got it near
the opening. It still overshot some, their combined strength unable to slow it
in time, and with some grunts they pushed it back till it was over the
opening. The Lieutenant breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that the hatch was
just big enough to accept the bomb. They could have always turned it on its
end, but that would have been a trial and error proposition, and one he really
didn’t think they had time for.
Four men went down and accepted the bulk of the
bomb handed to them. They lowered it to the floor of the lower chamber, and
Cornelius jumped the five meters from hatch to floor, his augmented bones and
muscles easily absorbing the shock. “What now?” he asked.
“There’s an access hatch over there,” said Boudreaux,
pointing up the chamber. “We’ll have to put the bomb through lengthwise.
Otherwise, it won’t fit.”
“And is that hatch an airlock, Doc?” asked
Satrusalya, frowning.
“I don’t think so,” said the scientist, his
eyes widening. “Oh, crap. What the hell am I thinking?”
“What’s the problem?” asked Cornelius, looking
from face to face.
“If we open that hatch, we expose this
compartment to space. And none of us have suits.”
“Well, shit. Is there another place we can
push this bitch out of?”
“There’s a hangar for maintenance craft about a
kilometer up the ring,” said Boudreaux.
“We don’t have time for that,” blurted
Cornelius. “We’ve got to get it out of here, now.”
“If I can have one volunteer, I think I can
wrestle it out,” said the PO.
“Without a suit?” asked the incredulous
scientist.
“I’ve done it in training,” said the large man,
nodding his head. “Not really pleasant, but doable. And if we don’t do it
now, we won’t have the chance later.”
“I guess it’s my job,” said Cornelius with a
sigh, not really looking forward to doing what the man was talking about.
“Everyone else out of the room. Now.”
“Good luck, Ranger,” said Chung, just before he
jumped out the hatch and closed it behind him.
“What do you want me to do, PO?” he asked
Satrusalya, wanting to get this over with before his nerve broke.
“Help me wrestle this thing over to that
hatch,” said the man. “We’ll need to turn it on end to fit it out. I think
it’ll fit, but if not, we’ll have to widen it with the laser cutters we brought
along. How are your nanobubbles? Have you had a refill lately?”
“About a month ago,” said Cornelius, thinking
of the small diamonoid spheres that contained pressurized oxygen, floating
through his bloodstream. They were standard equipment for all Imperial military
personnel, allowing them to supply their muscles and nervous systems with
oxygen in a
come to check on it. Especially when no one answers their com calls from this
area.
The scientist came running back after climbing
the stairs, a stout device held in his hands that he didn’t seem to be having
any difficulty moving. Following him were the other three men, each with a
similar device in hand.
“What are those?” asked Cornelius, as the scientist
attached his near the front side of the container.
“Antigravs,” said the man, supervising the
installation of the second unit near the front, while Satrusalya made sure the
other two were secured to the rear. “They make it much easier to move objects
in the cargo areas. Activating, now,” he said, pushing a button on the first
one he had attached.
The heavy bomb rose slightly into the air, now
a couple of centimeters above the floor.
“Help me get it to the hatch,” said Boudreaux,
grabbing the handle on the unit and lifting.
Cornelius grabbed another handle, and four men
pushed the bomb toward the hatch. The antigravs took all the weight, but the
massive device still had all of its mass, and they had to maneuver it
carefully, not allowing it to build up too much momentum as they got it near
the opening. It still overshot some, their combined strength unable to slow it
in time, and with some grunts they pushed it back till it was over the
opening. The Lieutenant breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that the hatch was
just big enough to accept the bomb. They could have always turned it on its
end, but that would have been a trial and error proposition, and one he really
didn’t think they had time for.
Four men went down and accepted the bulk of the
bomb handed to them. They lowered it to the floor of the lower chamber, and
Cornelius jumped the five meters from hatch to floor, his augmented bones and
muscles easily absorbing the shock. “What now?” he asked.
“There’s an access hatch over there,” said Boudreaux,
pointing up the chamber. “We’ll have to put the bomb through lengthwise.
Otherwise, it won’t fit.”
“And is that hatch an airlock, Doc?” asked
Satrusalya, frowning.
“I don’t think so,” said the scientist, his
eyes widening. “Oh, crap. What the hell am I thinking?”
“What’s the problem?” asked Cornelius, looking
from face to face.
“If we open that hatch, we expose this
compartment to space. And none of us have suits.”
“Well, shit. Is there another place we can
push this bitch out of?”
“There’s a hangar for maintenance craft about a
kilometer up the ring,” said Boudreaux.
“We don’t have time for that,” blurted
Cornelius. “We’ve got to get it out of here, now.”
“If I can have one volunteer, I think I can
wrestle it out,” said the PO.
“Without a suit?” asked the incredulous
scientist.
“I’ve done it in training,” said the large man,
nodding his head. “Not really pleasant, but doable. And if we don’t do it
now, we won’t have the chance later.”
“I guess it’s my job,” said Cornelius with a
sigh, not really looking forward to doing what the man was talking about.
“Everyone else out of the room. Now.”
“Good luck, Ranger,” said Chung, just before he
jumped out the hatch and closed it behind him.
“What do you want me to do, PO?” he asked
Satrusalya, wanting to get this over with before his nerve broke.
“Help me wrestle this thing over to that
hatch,” said the man. “We’ll need to turn it on end to fit it out. I think
it’ll fit, but if not, we’ll have to widen it with the laser cutters we brought
along. How are your nanobubbles? Have you had a refill lately?”
“About a month ago,” said Cornelius, thinking
of the small diamonoid spheres that contained pressurized oxygen, floating
through his bloodstream. They were standard equipment for all Imperial military
personnel, allowing them to supply their muscles and nervous systems with
oxygen in a
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