Escape Velocity

"Sorry, ma'am," Kelly said as Moralez coasted to a catfall on the bulkhead beside her. "We just felt so sure that we found a survivor."

A hysterical face, bathed by their suit-lights and glowing moonlike, lunged toward them out of the recesses of the darkened storage bay, bellowing psychotically as Jena raised the pistol and fired. The recoil of the shot propelled her backward, she heard the sound of her head slamming into the metal bulkhead behind her, then there was only black silence.

***

SOL-8/Neptune

"I almost made it out-system once," Weston said after a pull off his swill bottle. "But fate was against me. I was on a transport with the NorCom women's gymnastics team on our way to the Eridani games. We were at the jump point ready to go into transit. The problem was that it had been ten years since the drives were overhauled."

"Smleck," Ajax kibitzed and lifted his own bottle of swill to his lips. "That's an accident waiting to happen."

"It sure was," Weston agreed but a smile slowly spread across his face. "So the captain shunts power to the drives and instead of opening a transit tunnel the drives short out. A power feedback fries the control circuits on the reactor and the damn thing starts to go runaway. We'd had an emergency drill so we got to the lifeboat with no problems, just me and the gymnastic team. When the transport goes up, the blast wave from it hits the lifeboat like a ten-ton asteroid. I thought we were dead, but instead it just knocked out the climate control."

"I never heard about that one," Ajax said and set the empty bottle down on the table at his elbow. Two other empties already rested there. "I must've been out of system when it happened."

"Now the problem wasn't that it was too cold," Weston continued, his eyes glossy and heavy-lidded with intoxication. "The problem was that we couldn't disperse the heat that was building up. The only way to cool off was to strip off our clothes. So there I was, stark naked in a lifeboat filled with naked gymnasts, who were all scared as hell and in need of the kind of comforting that only a man can provide. It took search and rescue twelve hours to find us."

Ajax laughed heartily at what Weston was implying. He'd already decided that the story was probably a lie, but it was told with such gusto that he almost believed it- almost.

"Sir! Sir!" A flustered aide barged into Weston's office as Ajax was lifting a fourth bottle of Triton Tank Swill to his lips, catching both men by surprise and causing Ajax to choke on the swallow he'd just taken.

"What is it?" Weston drawled.

"Our fuel shuttle is back, sir. They report that a body was found in the shipping lanes. They recovered it and have it in storage," The aide said and succeeded in partially composing himself. "Whoever it was suffered a naked exposure to hard vacuum. It isn't pretty, sir."

Suddenly sober, Weston jumped to his feet in the weak gravity and made for the hatch behind the aide, leaving Ajax no choice but to follow.

"Christ and Allah," Weston complained as he led the way into the maze of gray corridors that connected the settlement. "For us to have found someone out there, he must've collided with fuel shuttle or at least floated past someone's window." He turned at the waist to address the aide following behind them. "What the hell happened out there?"

The aide cleared his throat as he increased pace to draw even with Weston. "The victim was wearing a personal rescue transponder. The signal was very weak but was picked up by the shuttle crew. They responded and found the victim after two hours of searching."

"Did the shuttle complete its fuel delivery?" Weston demanded. The aide shook his head.

"Yes, sir. Five hundred tons, refined, to the bulk freighter Apex Universal," He said. "They picked up the transponder signal on the return leg."

"Good, if they'd diverted from a customer to pick up some corpse, I'd have put them on the next ship for Earth with a reprimand in their records," Weston said and smiled as he looked at Ajax. "Business must go on, isn't that right, Mister Kinkaid?"

Ajax returned a drunken smile. "You got that right, Merrill. I wonder how long the poor son-of-a-bitch has been out there."

"Impossible to tell," Weston said and guided him into a corridor branching off the right side of the main. "We might be able to come up with an estimate based on the battery strength of his transponder, but unless he's got some data on him that can give us something specific, he could've been out there for decades."

After 10 minutes they found a hatch at the end of the corridor. Behind it was the unused med-bay that served the settlement as a cold-storage morgue. Weston entered a 4-digit code into the keypad next to the heavy hatch and the door slid open. A man and a woman, each wearing well-worn station garb, stood around a table supporting a sheet-covered body bathed by a single overhead light. Weston, Ajax, and the aide stepped through the hatchway and took up positions around the head of the table.

"This is Senior Pilot Kimble. She was controlling the shuttle," The aide said and pointed out the woman. He indicated the man. "This is Associate Hannah. He performed a space-walk to recover the victim."

"You are both are to be commended," Weston said and nodded to both the Associates though his attention was fixed on the corpse beneath the sheet. "Dismissed. Tell noone of this."

"Yes, sir." The shuttle crew echoed in unison and tromped out. Once the hatch had closed behind them, Weston reached out and took the sheet by an edge, pulling it off the body in a smooth, motion.

"Christ and Allah." Weston exclaimed and let the sheet drop. Ajax blocked out the light with his head as he leaned in for a closer view. The dead man appeared to be in his late '50's, a grandfatherly figure with a full, salt & pepper beard that was an odd accompaniment below the frost-burnt gray of the rest of his face. His mouth was open- yellow teeth bared in a rictus of pain- but most unsettling were his empty eye-sockets. The eyes had burst when exposed to hard vacuum, leaving strands of ruptured flesh frozen to the edges of each cavity. The body had been committed to the vacuum wearing dirty blue work-coveralls. A circular patch on the shoulder identified his ship as "Outworld Alliance- SS Mordicai."

"Let's see what he's got." Ajax said softly and reached for the cargo pocket on the nearest coverall sleeve.

"Hold on," Weston said and removed a small radiation counter from a wall of tools next to the table. He swept the body from head to foot with the device before replacing it on its peg. "He's radioactive- probably absorbed a lot of high energy particles while he was out there- maybe even passed through someone's engine wash."

"Sir, shall I send for the medical-tech?" The aide asked, nervous eyes darting from the irradiated corpse to the hatch, wanting to be as far from the body as possible.

"I doubt there's anything they could do for him." Weston said and the aide made haste for the door. Once he passed through the hatch Weston motioned for Ajax to follow him out. "He's putting out a lot of rads, too many to allow us to stay here. It's best if we let the authorities handle this."

Weston sighed and moved toward the hatch. "I've got some transmissions to send… Customs is going to dump so much paperwork on me for this I might never dig myself out," He said and stopped himself before he went through. "You and your crew are welcome to stay for the new year's celebration if you like."

"Your kindness is appreciated," Ajax said and moved to follow him through. "I'll pass on your offer to my people. I'm sure they'd enjoy a little respite before we jump for Alpha Centauri."

"Of course, Mister Kinkaid. Our facilities are at your disposal."

***

SS Mordicai

Jena opened her eyes to a blinding glare. "Goddammit, get that light out of my face," She said and lifted an arm to blot the light out. Her head throbbed with dull pain. The light went out and when her eyes adjusted, she saw Batty looking down at her, a mask of clinical curiosity on her face. Kelly hovered next to her. "What the hell just happened?"

"You caught a hard edge. The corridors on this boat aren't padded the way Constellation is," Batty said and removed the portable light she had clipped to a headband. "Don't worry, it's nothing serious. You just broke the skin. You were unconcious for a few minutes though. You had Kelly here worried sick."

"What happened to the guy?" Jena said and let the question trail off as Batty slapped a black derm-patch on her neck that immediately eased her discomfort.

"I don't think he was expecting you to shoot at him, ma'am," Kelly said and leaned into view. "You missed, but it scared him enough that he gave up on the spot. He started begging us not to kill him. I think he must've thought we were pirates or something."

"Where is he now?" Jena said, suddenly worried that the man might've escaped, not thinking he had no place to escape to.

"I gave Moralez your pistol to guard him with and sent them both forward," Kelly said and nodded in the direction they'd gone. "The JAG-off wanted to get a statement."

Batty and Kelly moved back as Jena eased herself onto the nearest bulkhead surface and appraised her situation. The filth from the storage locker had established a presence in the corridor.

"Find a portable vacuum and get these spaces clean," She said to Kelly as her training took over. "This is our ship until we get back to the Connie. I don't want to see any particles or other trash the next time I come through here."

"Aye-aye, ma'am," Kelly said and nodded as he looked around for the nearest equipment locker. "You want me to save anything that might be useful?"

"If you think it might help us find out what the hell happened on this ship, then save it," Jena said as she pushed off the surface and drifted forward. "Just don't empty the filters until we can turn this tub over to Customs Authority. Once you're done, get with our people in engineering and find out how much longer it's gonna take to get the engines lit, report in once you find out and we'll go from there."

"I want to have a look at the prisoner once JAG is done," Batty called at her back. "He'll have to have a workup up done."

"First things first," Jena said. "The man's a survivor- not a prisoner, yet." She looked up as the lights built into the side of the corridor began to glow. Within moments she could see the fixtures of the ship in grubby glory. A figure was approaching from directly ahead.

"Jena? Jena? My god, are you all right?" Tali said as she recognized Jena and began slowing her advance by dragging her hands against the nearest surface. "I heard on the radio that you'd been hurt and came straight down."

"I'm fine," Jena said as Tali rotated and assumed a position behind her. There was not enough room for them to drift side by side. "I got a goose-egg on the back of my head but that's all. I got lucky."

"There's some blood on your collar," Tali said with more than a little concern in her voice. "You could've been killed."

"I knew that I needed to be braced to fire a weapon in zero gravity," Jena said and gave a heavy sigh. "I just forgot. Things could've gone much worse. That's why I got lucky."

"Maybe this will cheer you up," Tali said. "I looked over the controls and they seem to be okay. Whoever the captain around here was really took care of his systems. Once we get the mainframe back up, I could probably get us to Mars without the navigation systems. My manual plotting skills are a little rusty but I think I could get us close enough for Customs Authority tug to reach us."

"What makes you think it wasn't a her?" Jena said and shot a wry look at her friend. "Are you saying that women aren't up to the job?"

Tali wrinkled her nose and said, "It doesn't smell like a woman was in command of this ship, more like a herd of goats." She sighed. "Men for you."

Jena laughed then groaned and put a hand to her head.

The Judge Advocate General's Assitant, Lieutenant Lindsey, had set up shop in the crew quarters several spaces back from the bridge. When Jena and Tali found their way forward, the prisoner was already restrained, bathed in the glare of a single suit-light, and perspiring.

"State your name for the record please," Lindsey said as Jena and Tali pushed through into the otherwise bare compartment. "You're being recorded so try and speak clearly."

"My name is Allin Huxley," The man said as if choosing his words carefully. "I signed on as a cargo-specialist two years ago."

"What happened here?" Lindsey said and cast a glance at the gray bulkheads around them. "Start at the point where this ship emerged from transit in Sol system."

Huxely took a deep breath and dropped his eyes to the deck. 'The captain was a very sick man," He said quietly. "He used medication to keep himself under control but, it only took a few weeks onboard to realize that there was a problem. He was moody, extremely so, prone to fits of rage at the slightest things."

Lindsey cleared her throat, interrupting him as he paused for a breath, the look on her face one of displeasure. "This is all very interesting," She said with ice in her voice. "But you haven't answered my question."

"I'm sorry," Huxely said looked from Lindsey, to Jena, to Tali. "It's just that I've been through so much it's difficult, difficult to remember anything but what we endured."

"Starting from the time you arrived in Sol system, please." Lindsey said again. Everyone's patience was wearing thin.

"I was the last one to awaken from cold sleep," Huxley said finally after several seconds of silence. "The ship's medical-tech, Lieutenant Cox, seemed very distressed, I noticed that right away. When I asked what was wrong, he said that the captain was worse than usual. One crewman, Sowete, I think, had already been disciplined for failure to obey orders. The crew was in a very pensive mood, to say the least."

Lindsey nodded with practiced understanding. Jena folded her arms in silence. The logs that she'd viewed had given her no hint that morale on board was a problem or that the captain had been unstable, not like Crites.

"Despite Captain's behavior, most of us were glad to be back in Sol system," Huxley said as a gloom fell over him. "Many of the crew had never been to Earth before and we'd been promised shore leave before we'd jumped from Alpha Centauri system. The load we carried was sure to pay off well, even though we would only get a percentage of a share of its value. I thought that all I had to do was put up with captain until we made planetfall… a week at most, then I could take my wages and disappear… find a new ship, but it wasn't to happen. Captain saw to that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lindsey said and maneuvered around to face him. "Keep in mind that mutineers go straight to the DeepCore. You know what that is, right?"

At that, Huxley nodded, becoming visibly upset. "You think I would have a part in the murder of my commander?" He cried out and wailed as he rocked back and forth in his restraints. "No, no, no, I would never do such a thing. I am no murderer, ask anyone, ask my old captain, Romalev in command of the Apex Titan. He will vouch for me."

"We will," Lindsey promised. "Now please continue."

"Captain announced that there would be no shore leave while the ship was in Sol system," Huxley said and heaved a great sigh. "We were to immediately load a new cargo from Mars orbit, a modular factory of the robotic type, and launch for the Lalande system. This is not the worst part. There was talk in the ship's galley, Kendall, the Captain's steward, told stories of finding empty bottles of that… Transterran devilry in the Captain's quarters. He was a heavy user. It was after that the disappearances started."

Lindsey perked at that, as did Jena and Tali, finally they were getting somewhere.

"About how long were you in system before this started?" Lindsey said as Jena mulled the implications of this new testimony in silence.

"Less than a week," Huxley said. "Kendall was the first to go. He just stopped showing up for his assigned watches. Noone knew where he had gone, not even the captain. We looked for him but this is a big ship, there are many places to hide. The med-tech was next, then the solar-storm hit us and knocked out power. It was madness after that."

"Was there a panic onboard?" Lindsey said. Huxley nodded vigorously.

"Captain turned into a beast, a monster," Huxley said and visibly shivered at the memory. "He knew the ship better than anyone. He waited for us as we tried to go about our duties despite the darkness. It was horrible. I cannot forget their pleas for mercy. Once I realized that something terrible was happening, I hid, I hid and prayed that he would not find me. When you opened the hatch to the locker I was in, I thought my nightmares had come true."

"Let's go," Jena said to Tali and reached for a handhold to pull herself toward the hatch. "I've heard all I need to hear." Once in the corridor she set herself in motion toward the bridge.

"Do you think it was him?" Tali called from behind her.

"Maybe," Jena said as her mind digested the facts they'd uncovered, comparing them to the events that Huxley had related, something wasn't matching quite right. "If it was him, he's in a lot of trouble, he'll get the Deepcore. I've heard it's worse than hell. All I know is the sooner we hand him and this scow off to Customs Authority the happier I'll be."

"Kelly here," A voice came through her ear-piece as her comm.-unit went active. "I got the mess cleaned up and talked to the mechanics. They say the engines are warming up and the main computer is rebooting as we speak. We should be underway before the hour, over."

"Roger that… out." Jena said and felt her lips form a smile. "It's about feking time. Christ and Allah."

***

55 Cancri

Zebra Station

A convoy of large gray hulls on a bee-line for the station could be seen with image intensifiers from the station observation deck. Traffic controllers used RADAR to track their progress. Each one was coming tail-on, slowing as they approached, destroyer escorts already in far orbit of the prime star, refueling.

"Delta November calling Zebra Station. Your signal is five-by and clear. We have beacon lock. Awaiting transfer to approach control, standing by to begin data feed. Over."

"Roger, Delta November. Transferring you to approach control." Miller said and let up on the "Transmit" key. The L3 button on his board opened a channel to a console several rows behind him.

"Yeah? Henderson here."

"It's Miller. Pick up Task Force Romeo on one-eight-one for standard approach."

"It's about god-damned time they got here. We're almost down to field rations and bug juice."

"I just want to know how the Cubs have been doing." Miller said as he transferred his data-feeds through to Henderson.

"Don't get your hopes up," Henderson replied. "However they were doing when Task Force Romeo left, they've had six years to get worse."

Henderson laughed. He was a Philadelphia native.

"I don't think the Phillies have won any World Series' lately either," Miller called back. "Twenty C says that the Cubs made it to the playoffs the year the convoy left."

"If you feel like losing your credits, you're on," Henderson said, bringing a derisive snort from Miller. "The Cubs made the playoffs every year for the last decade."

Miller finished his generic CANSS insta-caff, then removed his headset and got to refill his cup from the dispenser that the mess-crew brought up at each change of the watch. It was nearly empty. Miller tipped it to drain the dregs. He paused on the return leg to read the memo-board next to the hatch.