“You know,” she said, “they can just kill this airlock from the bridge.”
As if in response to her words, the airlock status light on the control panel shifted to red, and the cycle stopped. Havelock punched something into the panel and it started again.
“They won’t have had time to reset all the security overrides,” he said.
“RCE security can countermand ship operations?” Naomi asked.
“Welcome to corporate security. The ship’s crew are glorified taxi drivers. Security division works directly for the company, protecting its interests. We can override anything they do.”
“This is why everyone hates you,” Basia said.
The airlock cycle completed, and the outer door opened. Havelock gestured them out. “You sure you don’t like me right now? Just a little bit?”
Ilus’ star was just peeking around the limb of the planet, and Basia’s visor dimmed dramatically to keep it from blinding him. The planet itself was the same angry ball of storm-wracked gray clouds. In the distance, the Rocinante flashed green and red landing lights at them, marking its position.
“Okay,” Havelock said, his voice crackling with low-level static. “Should probably get moving. They’ve got guys outside on the other side of the ship. They can’t catch us, but watch each other for grapnel lines.”
Naomi was already firing her EVA pack, moving out of the airlock on four small white cones of compressed gas. “Alex? We’re out.”
“Oh, thank God,” the pilot said, his drawl mostly disappearing in the tension of his voice. “I’ve been worried sick over here. Basia with you?”
“Yeah,” Basia said. “I’m here.”
“You’ll be picking up three,” Naomi said. “Come get us.”
“Three?”
“Taking a stray home with me.”
“A stray?” Havelock said, amusement in his voice. “I’m the one doing the rescuing here.”
“It’s complicated,” Naomi continued. They were all out of the airlock now. The remote connection light went on in Basia’s HUD, and a complex program began spooling across it. Alex having the Rocinante take control of their EVA navigation to bring them to the ship. The pack did several sharp burns, and the Rocinante began slowly growing.
“Glad Basia made it okay,” Alex said. “Worried sendin’ him in there like that.”
“I didn’t wind up helping much,” Basia admitted, feeling that same rush of embarrassment.
“You got everyone looking in the wrong direction,” Havelock said. “That was actually pretty helpful.”
“Yay,” Alex said, “we’re all heroes. There’re four guys tailing you right now. Do we know about them?”
A small box appeared on Basia’s HUD. Inside it was video of four people in vacuum suits and wearing EVA packs, the bulk of the Edward Israel behind them. Without his doing anything, the view zoomed in until he could see the weapons they were carrying. Alex was sending them all images pulled from the Rocinante’s telescopes.
“Yeah, those are the militia I formed and trained,” Havelock said, then sighed. “In retrospect, that’s seeming like a bad idea.”
“Do you want me to take care of that?” Alex asked.
“Does your version of ‘taking care of it’ involve your ship’s point defense cannons?” Havelock replied.
“Uh. Yeah?”
“Then no. These guys are dumb and untrained enough to still be gung-ho. But they’re just engineers. They’re not bad guys,” Havelock said.
“They’re shootin’ at you,” Alex said, and suddenly Basia’s HUD had red lines across it. “Got the Roci trackin’ bullet paths.”
The knowledge that there were silent, invisible, and potentially deadly projectiles flying past him made Basia’s scalp tingle. The red lines on the display apparently meant more to Havelock, because the Earther said, “They’re nowhere near us. They haven’t got HUD-integrated targeting, so they’re just spraying and praying right now. There’s no reason to return fire.”
“XO?” Alex said. It took Basia a second to realize he was talking to Naomi.
“Havelock’s calling this one,” she replied. “They’re his people.”
“Okay,” Alex said doubtfully.
The Rocinante continued to grow minute by minute until Basia could see the tiny ring of lights around its airlock. He’d only been on the ship a short time, but it felt like coming home. His EVA pack fired off a quick series of blasts and spun him around to face the Israel, then began braking. Almost there.
“Guys,” Havelock said. “Recoilless is an exaggeration. It doesn’t mean there’s no recoil at all.”
It sounded like more nonsense talk to Basia until he looked at the Rocinante’s video of the pursuing team and saw one of the four men spinning and rotating in space, frantically firing his EVA pack to get under control. It only seemed to make it worse, as every blast of gas from the pack just added a new axis to the rotation.
“Then that’s an inaccurate name for the weapons,” the man called Kemp replied.
“And if we’d gotten to more advanced zero-g tactics, I would have explained that,” Havelock said. “I also would have taught you to use the integrated compensation software to have the EVA pack do stabilizing bursts every time you fire the gun.”
“Seems to me there’s a lot you didn’t show us,” Kemp replied.
“Yeah, and now that you’re shooting at me, I’m just sick about that. In the meantime, please stop. Drake is way out of control and drifting away from you guys. Someone needs to go get him before he gets too far.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” the one Havelock had called Koenen said. “Get us to call off the chase.”
“I’d like,” Havelock said, his voice sad, “to keep Drake from falling out of space and dying. Also, I’m arguing with the pilot of the gunship behind me so that he doesn’t need to turn you into a cloud of red mist with his point defense cannons. But you guys are making it harder and harder to be convincing.”
“Don’t threaten—”
“Go get Drake. Get back in the ship. Stop shooting. If one of those shots you’re spraying around accidentally hits, I’m taking the gunship off the leash.”
There was a long silence. The red lines on Basia’s HUD began disappearing one by one until none were left. The EVA pack fired off one long, final burst, then spun him around. The outer airlock door of the Rocinante was already open, waiting for them. Naomi drifted inside, grabbed a handhold, and waited for them to follow. Shaded from Ilus’ star the polarization of her faceplate faded, and the blue glow of the airlock’s LED lights illuminated the inside of her helmet. Her wide smile was clearly visible.
“Home again, home again,” she said. Basia drifted in next to her and she caught his arm to stop him. “Thank you for coming for me.”
Basia blushed and raised his palms in a Belter shrug. “I didn’t do much but get shot at.”
“Sometimes just showing up is a lot.”
Havelock caught the edge of the airlock entrance and stopped, looking back toward the Israel. “Hey, you got Drake? He okay?”
“Yes, sir,” Kemp replied. “We caught him.”
“Havelock,” the older, angrier voice said. “You won’t get away with this. RCE will burn you to the ground when we get back. And I’ll be there to see it happen.”
Havelock laughed. “Chief? I hope we both live so long. Havelock out.” He backed into the airlock and slapped the wall panel to start the cycle.
“We made it,” Basia said. He felt a brief moment of euphoria, followed by a sudden release of pants-shitting terror he hadn’t even known he’d been repressing. If he’d been standing in gravity, he would have collapsed. Naomi and Havelock began stripping off their EVA packs while the airlock ran through the pressurization cycle. Basia fumbled at the straps of his own, but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t manage it. After a few moments, Naomi helped him pull it off.