“Which works in our favor. Less risk of being detected.” Grady eyeballed the huge asteroid as Adventurer angled closer, shedding momentum as he worked the maneuvering thrusters to slow the craft. He checked the status of the tow, satisfied the damaged freighter was safe in its controlled trajectory astern.
This close to Cavalier’s outermost buildings, blast damage was visible on the zoomed-in picture, black scorch marks marring the superstructure of the largest section. While the exterior of the domes was unbroken, the door to a smaller airlock at the far end of the base was buckled, as if a giant had attempted to batter its way inside.
“Mal, did the intel alternate Kotov provided indicate if the intruders penetrated the base?” Grady asked.
“It appears the defenders fought off the incursion by a small strike force. The attackers failed to gain entry,” the AI declared. “But realizing their vulnerability and with no reinforcements on the horizon, the garrison subsequently decided to fall back to the Badlands.”
“If they left in a hurry, let’s hope the medical equipment is still in place and undisturbed,” Zoe said. “And the galley. Especially the food freezers.”
“Fingers crossed.” Grady said. “Though the medbay is my chief concern, less so the mess hall. Mal, any sign of life from inside the complex?”
“Negative. Not only did our hails go unanswered, but I continue to show minimal energy output, suggesting that most systems are either non-operational or are in a low-power standby mode.”
“Guess no one left the lights on for us,” Zoe said. “Inconsiderate.”
“I’d say short sighted,” Grady said. “Probably also means no grav or life support. Those will be the landing party’s first priorities once it’s gained access.”
“Let’s hope the rebel codes we received before leaving the Badlands work for Tara,” Zoe said. “Otherwise, she’ll have no option but to cut her way through the airlock.”
While Adventurer took station above Cavalier—keeping the freighter safely tractored—Tara was in the act of piloting the shuttle down to the outpost. Mbeki had gone along to provide security—Grady wasn’t taking any chances, despite the base being designated as abandoned. He asked Lian to accompany them. Her task was to reboot the outpost’s systems, with the hospital section of vital importance.
Hawthorne and Bright Moon’s medic would remain on Adventurer to tend to the injured survivors, helped by the two archeologists, whose first aid training was yet again proving invaluable. Once Lian gave the all-clear, they would shuttle the wounded over to the outpost and begin treatment, starting with the freighter’s chief engineer.
As for the damaged vessel itself, Squirt had requested to board Bright Moon once more, Johansen readily agreeing. The engineer had had a rethink, coming up with a new plan to mend the sublight engines. He’d shaken his head when Grady inquired if he had any clever ideas about fixing the freighter’s fusion drive, restating his conclusion that a complete rebuild at a repair facility was the only viable solution.
“If luck is with me,” Squirt told Grady while assembling the tools and supplies he intended to pack into metal containers. “I will be able to, how you say, jury-rig the sublight engines and the damaged reactor and, perhaps, restart both. I also wish to double check that the radiation leak truly has been stemmed.”
“You sure you can handle all that yourself?” Grady asked. “I’ll need Lian to concentrate on getting the outpost up and running.”
The Frenchman shrugged. “Non, I am not certain. Much will depend on what, if any, progress I can make on repairing the reactor.”
“Well, don’t overstay your welcome. You don’t want to do anything that might mean disappointing a future mate.”
Squirt’s bushy eyebrows lofted toward his unkempt hairline and he smiled, tugging at his beard, as he processed Grady’s meaning. “Thank you, mon capitaine. Your concern for my wellbeing is appreciated and I will bear your cautionary words in mind. I, too, would not wish to suffer irreparable harm to my vital functions.”
Grady watched a smaller feed overlaid on top of the main screen, as Squirt deftly guided himself toward the freighter’s airlock, adjusting his approach with short bursts from the tiny thrusters housed in the jet pack mated to his spacesuit. Three large, silvery metal cases floated in his wake, tethered to him on a thick, flexible cable, like goslings trailing after a goose. The engineer had no choice but to spacewalk over to the freighter, Grady preferring not to dock with Bright Moon this time and wanting to keep Adventurer free to maneuver in case hostiles arrived.
With so many of his small crew off-ship at the same time, the captain had to fight the urge to push from his seat and begin pacing in the corridor. “Mal,” Grady said, fingering the chair arm. “Engage auto pilot. Maintain current position and keep a close eye on the freighter.”
Once the AI voiced his confirmation, Grady stood, contemplating the beverage maker in the corner. “Make enough for me too, please, Boss, if you don’t mind,” Zoe said, noticing his posture. “Something tells me it’s going to be a long night. Or day. Whatever it is now.” She cracked a broad yawn. “I think I’m losing track of time.”
“Coming up,” Grady said. He glanced at the ceiling and grinned. “What about you, Mal? Is there a digital version of synth-coffee?”
“My programming is sufficient and does not require a jolt of caffeine to enliven me,” he said. “Although now that you mention it, perhaps the occasional input of new code to enhance my performance achieves much the same result.”
“You mean like the recent upgrade to your personality matrix?” Zoe asked.
“A case in point. Wouldn’t you agree, Captain?”
“That’s still open to debate,” Grady said with a rueful grin as he busied himself preparing to start a fresh pot of dark roast. “Having my ship’s AI periodically transform into the persona of a buccaneer of old—enlivened or not—isn’t the sort of improvement I had in mind.”
“Well, you must admit one thing about Mal, the pirate.”
Grady turned to face Zoe. “What’s that?”
“It’s better than him becoming Mal, the ax murderer, or psycho Mal, the lunatic AI.” Zoe scrubbed her hand through her hair and then grimaced, checking to make sure she hadn’t disturbed the decorated leather band holding her ponytail in place. “That would be one performance I could do without. Especially within the sealed confines of a spaceship in the middle of nowhere. Think of the mayhem he could unleash.”
“Ahem, I have no intention of degenerating into an insane digital entity,” Mal said. “Such imaginings are the stuff of science fiction, not fact. My programming would not permit it.”
“Personality upgrade notwithstanding?”
“Indeed, Captain. You and the crew have nothing to fear where my cybernetic sanity is concerned.”
“That’s reassuring. Now, if only I could be as confident about the mental state of some of the more bio-oriented members of my crew.” The last was uttered with a nod toward Zoe, his eyes twinkling. She gave him a flat look but remained silent.
The AI let out a passable imitation of clearing his throat. “I am certain my courageous Amazonian…ah, pardon me, we have an external comm. It’s Miss Tara.”
Grady motioned with his hand. “Go ahead.”
“The access code was accepted,” resounded his sister’s voice from the overhead speakers. “We’re going in.”
“That’s excellent news,” Grady said, peering at the viewscreen. “Watch yourselves over there.”
“Always. Landing party out.”
A bright ding echoed from the beverage machine and the earthy aroma of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air. “Come and get it,” Grady said. Zoe inhaled, then smiled and rose. She grabbed a stainless-steel mug from a cupholder next to her station and took his place at the unit as he slid back into his seat. “Let’s hope all they discover in the outpost is dusty equipment and empty corridors,” she said as she replaced the lid on her now brimming travel mug.
“The facility is abandoned,” Grady said, swiveling his chair toward her. “And there are no signs of life. What else would they expect to find?”
