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Authors: Karl K. Gallagher
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in far worse condition than this.
The intruder came through the
hatch, still using the magnetic boots to maneuver. John had trained her to aim
for the least armored part of her target. The first bullet into the faceplate
sent cracks from top to bottom. She emptied the magazine before the intruder
could reach her. The faceplate was almost pure white in the center, spider webs
of cracks going to the edge.
Bobbie kicked away, reloading
as she soared across the cabin. The intruder turned slowly, looking for her out
the corners of the faceplate. She grabbed a shelf and steadied herself. This
time she aimed for the heart. She saw the bullets make holes in the suit. The
intruder jumped for her. Bobbie leapt, not fast enough. A hand grabbed her
ankle painfully hard. It swung her through the air. Her head struck the deck.
The gun flew out of her hand. “That hurt, bitch.” The intruder swung her again.
This time she went limp.
The intruder released her and
took a tube from a belt pouch. A dollop of goo went into each bullet hole on his
chest. Then he began a search of Bobbie’s body. Once a magazine, knife and
lipstick were removed he stuffed her into a heavy-duty bubble.
***
Mitchie followed the battle
by sound. Gunshots and hatches slamming were audible. The grenade rattled the
bridge. When the shots stopped and more hatches slammed she assumed the worst.
Bing had reported she and Billy were trapped in the hold. Captain Schwartzenberger
had ditched his handcomm before setting up his ambush. Clearly he hadn’t
succeeded. That left her.
By the time the hatch to the
hold closed Mitchie had her suit on and the bridge almost depressurized. One
window panel had its edges painted red. She carefully armed the explosive bolts
and yanked the emergency release. The panel flew point-first into the ice and
stuck. She took a deep breath and listened for leaks in her suit. Not a single
whistle or squeak. She pushed the maneuvering pack out the hole and followed
after.
Her goal was to zip past the
kidnapper and cut his suit open. Right now she was on the step of the plan
before that: “Don’t let him see you and shoot you.” The chasm was only starlit
so she should be safe as long as she clung to the ice. She crept around the
hull to where she could just peek at the shattered cargo hold window.
The red emergency lights
shone out through the window. The remaining shards of transparent aluminum
refracted the light in bright beams across the ice. One shadow moved. A little
study resolved it as a spacesuit holding a rescue bubble under one arm. He shuffled
across the floor on magboots. Every dozen or so steps he would stop and turn
back and forth in place.
Mitchie crept slowly over the
ice sticking to the deepest shadows. More of the hold came into view. The tents
and a few emergency bubbles still held pressure. Hopefully all the passengers
had survived. She froze as the intruder approached the window. He faced her in
clear line of sight. He turned back and forth in place then moved a few meters
along the window.
This time as he turned around
a light shone clear on his faceplate. Blind! thought Mitchie. The
intruder needed to turn to see out the edges of the cracked faceplate. He
couldn’t see where he was going. Mitchie sheathed her utility blade. A new plan
was bubbling up.
The intruder had found the
biggest gap in the window. He broke his boots loose from the deck with a hop
then gave a puff of maneuvering jets to float through the gap. Once clear of
the ship he started twisting about, trying to get a good look at the chasm
walls. Mitchie didn’t bother firing her maneuvering pack. Bobbie first .
She leapt hard, slamming into the intruder, and knocking the bubble out of his grasp.
The bubble floated up toward the stars.
The intruder wrapped arms and
legs around Mitchie painfully hard. She fired her thrusters on full.
Transparent aluminum achieved
its optical properties by forming a single huge crystal. Instead of a fog
The intruder came through the
hatch, still using the magnetic boots to maneuver. John had trained her to aim
for the least armored part of her target. The first bullet into the faceplate
sent cracks from top to bottom. She emptied the magazine before the intruder
could reach her. The faceplate was almost pure white in the center, spider webs
of cracks going to the edge.
Bobbie kicked away, reloading
as she soared across the cabin. The intruder turned slowly, looking for her out
the corners of the faceplate. She grabbed a shelf and steadied herself. This
time she aimed for the heart. She saw the bullets make holes in the suit. The
intruder jumped for her. Bobbie leapt, not fast enough. A hand grabbed her
ankle painfully hard. It swung her through the air. Her head struck the deck.
The gun flew out of her hand. “That hurt, bitch.” The intruder swung her again.
This time she went limp.
The intruder released her and
took a tube from a belt pouch. A dollop of goo went into each bullet hole on his
chest. Then he began a search of Bobbie’s body. Once a magazine, knife and
lipstick were removed he stuffed her into a heavy-duty bubble.
***
Mitchie followed the battle
by sound. Gunshots and hatches slamming were audible. The grenade rattled the
bridge. When the shots stopped and more hatches slammed she assumed the worst.
Bing had reported she and Billy were trapped in the hold. Captain Schwartzenberger
had ditched his handcomm before setting up his ambush. Clearly he hadn’t
succeeded. That left her.
By the time the hatch to the
hold closed Mitchie had her suit on and the bridge almost depressurized. One
window panel had its edges painted red. She carefully armed the explosive bolts
and yanked the emergency release. The panel flew point-first into the ice and
stuck. She took a deep breath and listened for leaks in her suit. Not a single
whistle or squeak. She pushed the maneuvering pack out the hole and followed
after.
Her goal was to zip past the
kidnapper and cut his suit open. Right now she was on the step of the plan
before that: “Don’t let him see you and shoot you.” The chasm was only starlit
so she should be safe as long as she clung to the ice. She crept around the
hull to where she could just peek at the shattered cargo hold window.
The red emergency lights
shone out through the window. The remaining shards of transparent aluminum
refracted the light in bright beams across the ice. One shadow moved. A little
study resolved it as a spacesuit holding a rescue bubble under one arm. He shuffled
across the floor on magboots. Every dozen or so steps he would stop and turn
back and forth in place.
Mitchie crept slowly over the
ice sticking to the deepest shadows. More of the hold came into view. The tents
and a few emergency bubbles still held pressure. Hopefully all the passengers
had survived. She froze as the intruder approached the window. He faced her in
clear line of sight. He turned back and forth in place then moved a few meters
along the window.
This time as he turned around
a light shone clear on his faceplate. Blind! thought Mitchie. The
intruder needed to turn to see out the edges of the cracked faceplate. He
couldn’t see where he was going. Mitchie sheathed her utility blade. A new plan
was bubbling up.
The intruder had found the
biggest gap in the window. He broke his boots loose from the deck with a hop
then gave a puff of maneuvering jets to float through the gap. Once clear of
the ship he started twisting about, trying to get a good look at the chasm
walls. Mitchie didn’t bother firing her maneuvering pack. Bobbie first .
She leapt hard, slamming into the intruder, and knocking the bubble out of his grasp.
The bubble floated up toward the stars.
The intruder wrapped arms and
legs around Mitchie painfully hard. She fired her thrusters on full.
Transparent aluminum achieved
its optical properties by forming a single huge crystal. Instead of a fog
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