Chapter Forty-One
“That’s no ‘package’!” Raptis exclaimed as the lighter came into view the next day. “That’s a Kulsian lighter!” When Bowden raised an eyebrow at her ability to identify a ship no one had ever seen before, she glared at him. “Did you really think that we do not have microsensors of our own? That just because you ‘compartmentalized’ all the data from the ones left by your alien friends, that we wouldn’t have our own sources?”
Bowden shrugged. What could he say? That he and Murphy had considered the possibility, realized there was no good way to ask the Primae or the Legate about it? Besides, imaging was not the aspect of the Dornaani data feed that restricted its distribution to those who fell under the need-to-know category.
Raptis didn’t even stop to breathe, however. “Shouldn’t we either be running or hiding?”
Silence.
Her head whipped from side to side as she scanned everyone’s faces. “Do you not hear me? That ship is Kulsian!”
Bowden shook his head. “No, that ship is our package.”
Hrensku turned away from the view screen with what appeared to be a significant effort of will. “Since Malanye seems too stunned to think, I’ll ask the obvious question: What, exactly, are we doing rendezvousing with a Kulsian ship?”
Bowden smiled. “It’s not a Kulsian ship. Not anymore.”
“What?” Hrensku asked. “Are they traitors, too?”
“No, it was captured by a team of Lost Soldiers.”
“You captured it? Are you Terrans out of your minds?”
“Murphy has a plan.”
“I think it’s about time you shared this plan with the rest of us,” Raptis said, “because—like Hrensku—I can’t see how this will lead to anything but the annihilation of our society, and I doubt any of us would have come on this mission if we’d known what it was really about.”
Bowden shrugged. “I can’t tell you about it because I don’t know what it is, either. I do, however, know there is one, and our mission advances it.” Raptis and Hrensku shook their heads, although Bowden was unable to tell whether from fear, disbelief, or some other emotion. Or, maybe, all of them.
“I still need the ship I was promised,” Raptis said. She shook her head and sighed. “Despite the fact that I’ll probably never see it, I’m still in.”
“Me, too,” Hrensku said with a sigh. “When the Primus asks…” He shrugged. “We also may be able to help keep things from falling totally apart. You’re an okay space pilot, but I’m better. So’s Raptis. Besides, I doubt you’ve ever flown anything that big.”
“No, I haven’t,” Bowden said. “Have you?”
“None of us have,” Raptis said. “While the SpinDogs do have ships as large as the lighter, those larger hulls are rare, and probably less than ten percent of their pilots have any experience with them. RockHounds have none. Still, though, we have a lot more time in space than you do and can probably understand the scope of flying it better than you.”
“That’s possible,” Bowden allowed. He nodded to the ship on the viewer. “If we’re all done discussing it, Malanye, would you do the honors and take us in?”
“Sure,” she said. “One question first, though.”
“Yeah?”
“What are we going to do with this packet? Kamara isn’t going to have any use for it.”
“Fiezel was supposed to fly it back, but now we don’t have enough fuel to do so,” Bowden said. “We could just let it go—”
“No,” Raptis said. “It’s a significant investment of resources, and it would be a shame to just throw it away. In fact, I know someone who could use a new ship, even one that’s had a rock storm beat on its aft end.”
“We can’t leave it attached to the lighter,” Bowden said. “It would compromise the rest of the mission.”
“I think it’s time you told us what you know,” Hrensku said. “I know you don’t know it all, but you need to tell us what you do. The traitor is gone, and we’ve already pledged to help you, but we can’t help if we don’t know what we’re supposed to be trying to accomplish. What is our mission? Better yet, what’s really in the modules we’re carrying?”
Bowden sighed, looking at the deck, then looked up to meet Hrensku’s eyes. “Commandos,” he said simply. “The two modules have commandos in them.”
Raptis’s brows knit. “I thought you said you already controlled the lighter.”
“I did, and I hope we do.” He shrugged. “We’ll have to confirm before we go aboard. If we don’t, the commandos will get us aboard the lighter, but that wasn’t their intended mission.”
“Stop stalling,” Hrensku said. “What is their intended mission?”
“We are supposed to board the lighter and get the corvette that is in orbit to come close. Then the commandos will go across and capture the corvette.”
“What?” Hrensku and Raptis chorused. Both looked like they wanted to say something else, but neither was able to articulate their thoughts.
Fiezel chuckled. “We’re not known for thinking small, I guess.”
“No,” Bowden agreed. “We’re not.” He shrugged. “That’s the plan, or as much of it as I know. After we capture the corvette, we’ll be given further orders, but I don’t know what they’ll be, and Murphy wasn’t a fan of me speculating on them.” He gave them a half smile. “Still with me?”
Hrensku shook his head. “If I could leave, I would, and I’d happily live in hiding from the Primus for the rest of my days. I can’t, though, so I’m in.”
“You could go with the packet—whatever we determine we’re going to do with it.”
“I could, but you’re more likely to be successful if I stay. As the future of my people rests on the success of this mission, I will stay and help.”
“As will I,” Raptis said.
“Which leads us back to the question of, what do we do with this packet?”
“Is there—” Raptis started, but the engine fired, cutting her off.
Raptis, Hrensku, and Fiezel were thrown to the back of the cockpit. Bowden, seated in the pilot’s chair, was barely able to keep his seat. As the gees mounted, he struggled to turn his seat to face forward, then used it to reach forward and push the Emergency Stop button. The engine immediately cut off, and Bowden hit the ACS thrusters to kill the new velocity the engine had given the craft as the lighter grew quickly in the canopy.
The reverse thrust threw the rest of the crew back into the cockpit.
After a few seconds, Bowden had the ship stabilized again with respect to the lighter, and the crew righted themselves again in the zero-gee.
“The fuck was that?” Fiezel asked.
“Apparently, our traitor wasn’t done with us,” Bowden said. “He must have left that command in the autopilot. That’s what Kamara meant when he said we’d be sorry if we spaced him.”
“Asshole,” Fiezel said, rubbing an elbow. He nodded to the instrument panel. “Now I don’t have enough fuel to do much of anything.”
Bowden shook his head slowly as Raptis and Hrensku moved to where they could see. “No,” he said, “you don’t. We’ll have to figure something else out.”
“So, is there a moon to hide behind?” Fiezel asked. “Something like that?”
“No,” Raptis said. She’d been tasked with surveying the planet and its environs to search for a good place to hide the packet as the craft approached the lighter. So far, the crew of the ship had given no indication they knew the packet was there despite their last burn. Raptis paused and swiped her tablet. “But there is…what I think is a Kulsian fuel depot in orbit.”
“A what?” Fiezel asked as if he were a man in the desert, dying of thirst, who had just been handed a glass of water. “Really?”
“Really. They probably put it there so they wouldn’t have to make planetfall every time.” She shrugged. “It’s in a medium orbit that would be easy to reach both ways.”
“The packet can easily hide there after refueling,” Hrensku said, warming to the subject. “That way, there’s no exit signature to tip off the Kulsians since it won’t leave until the rest of the operation is over. The corvette is too close to boost without being spotted.”
“Also, if the mission is a success,” Raptis added, “the packet won’t have to boost at all. It can be hooked up to either the lighter or the corvette, and we’ll be able to tow it back to R’Bak much faster.” She smiled, obviously hoping it would be hers at the end of the mission.
“There’s one more point to going there,” Bowden said. “If we don’t make it, you can hide and refuel. Then, when the corvette goes behind the planet, you can make a low power escape with a long drift back.” He shrugged. “At least that way we get the word to them on what happened, and they can prepare for the arrival of the Kulsians.” The thought sobered the rest of them, and Bowden hurried on. “Not that that’s going to happen, of course, but just as a last resort…”
“Got it,” Fiezel said.
“Good,” Bowden said as he worked the packet toward the lighter. “It’s agreed, then. Let’s see if our people still control the lighter, or if we’re going to have to call our friends upstairs.”
“Do you know who they are?” Raptis asked.
“Who? The commandos or the people on the lighter?”
“Either. Both.”
“Nope. I would probably know the Terrans if I saw them, but I don’t, at this moment, know who they are.” Although I’d bet a lot of money that Harry Tapper is within a kilometer of me right now, one way or the other. That’s where I’d want him, anyway.
Bowden switched to the radio. “New York.”
A call came back almost immediately. “Yankees.”
“Seriously?” Fiezel asked. “Always hated those guys. I’m more of a Mets fan.”
“I didn’t pick the code words,” Bowden said. “The good news is, though, that our guys are in control of the lighter.”
Bowden joined with the lighter and the larger ship extended its boarding tube to them. They connected it to the packet, and Bowden led Hrensku and Raptis over to the lighter. As they reached the hatch, it opened to reveal four men, one of whom he knew.
“Hi, Max,” he said to Messina. So this is where he’s been hiding. The big sleepy-eyed bodyguard introduced his compatriots Vat, Chalmers, and Jackson. Bowden recognized them, having seen them on R’Bak a few times, but he wouldn’t have expected to see them in control of a spaceship. Jackson looked a lot worse for wear; his head was a mass of bandages.
“Murphy says to tell you great job,” Bowden said after he’d introduced Hrensku and Raptis, who’d then gone to check the lighter’s navigation and flight station controls. Bowden nodded to the boarding tube. “I guess you’ll be leaving now?”
“We talked about that,” Chalmers said, “but we’re going to stay. We’ve got too much invested in this op to turn it over completely. We’re going to see it to its successful completion.”
“Not done yet,” Jackson said. He was hard to understand through the bandages. “Going to help out.”
Bowden looked at Vat and raised an eyebrow. “I needed a break from the planet,” the bunko artist and black marketeer said with a shrug. “I’m here to the end.”
“Besides,” Chalmers said, “we’ve got a wounded Kulsian I don’t want to move or make someone else’s responsibility. We’ll just keep him here, nice and safe.” He smiled. “Why don’t we get your cargo loaded aboard so you can get rid of that ship before it’s seen? We’ve got too much invested in this to blow it so close to the end.”
“There he goes,” Bowden said as the packet moved off to their starboard. Moving the two CONEX boxes into the lighter’s hold hadn’t been easy, but with the equipment they’d found on the ship—in addition to the assistance provided by Chalmers’s team—they’d managed to get them strapped down in a couple of the cargo bays.
After that, they’d sealed off the hold area so the men in the boxes could get out and stretch their legs without the two groups seeing each other. Bowden thought the restriction kind of dumb at this point—if one group got captured, they were all going to get captured—but Murphy had been very clear on keeping the two groups separate. It still didn’t make sense to do so, though, as it kept them from coordinating their part of the operation. Sometimes there are operational imperatives us little guys don’t need to know, I guess.
Chalmers also kept his pet Kulsian—whose name was Yukannak—separate from Bowden’s group throughout. Maybe he thought one of the Dogs would want to kill him. Bowden shrugged to himself. There’s no reason why—Yukannak is far more valuable alive than dead.
“Ready?” Raptis asked a little while later once the packet was well clear of them.
“Yeah,” Bowden said. “Let’s get this started.”
Raptis initiated the burn that would put them into orbit.
Bowden looked over his shoulder. “What’s the code word for ‘we’re fat, dumb, and happy, and everything is fine’?”
“It’s ‘Riches,’ believe it or not,” Chalmers replied.
Bowden chuckled. “Somehow, that makes sense for them.” He switched to the radio and pulled out a piece of paper on which he’d written what he wanted to say.
“Why don’t I take this,” Vat asked, holding out his hand. “I can speak it better than any of you.”
Bowden shrugged and handed the transmitter and his script over. “Be my guest.”
Vat took a minute to familiarize himself, then he keyed the mic. “Patrol Cycler PH-09, this is Lighter 03. Currently entering orbit. Code word: Riches.”
When he didn’t receive a response, he repeated the transmission.
“Lighter 03, Patrol Cycler PH-09. I understand code word: Riches.”
“Affirmative, Patrol Cycler PH-09. We are positioned for…wait…shit! Look out!”
Bowden reached up, killed the drive, and gave several hard boosts with the ACS system. The ship began tumbling, and the concepts of “up” and “down” became lost as his stomach flip-flopped.
Chalmers reached forward and pulled a handle, releasing a batch of simulated accident debris to go along with the first batch he had released prior to Bowden initiating the tumble.
“Collision emergency, PH-09!” Vat continued. “The panel shows multiple hull breaches, and our attitude control is out. We’re…we’re losing atmosphere. Emergency bulkheads not responding. We can’t—” He released the transmit button.
“Lighter 03, say again? What was the nature of the collision?”
Bowden smiled.
After a few seconds, Patrol Cycler PH-09 called again. “Lighter 03, report your status. Respond immediately.”
Bowden pantomimed dying for a few seconds, until PH-09 called. “If you can hear me, Lighter 03, hold on. We are on our way to you. We should be there in approximately three hours.”
Bowden took the mic from Vat and attached it to the instrument panel. “Well, we’ve done our part. Time to wake up the folks in the hold so they can earn their pay.” He pressed the button to talk to the commandos. “Bowden calling whoever’s in the hold. We’re being approached by the Kulsian corvette, ETA three hours. Our part of this mission is over. We got you here. Now…you’re up. Go get ’em, boys!”