“He was a young, foolish boy. And that was why the world murdered him.”
She made a fist around the gasket charm, waving her free hand at Dour Face. “Take him away.”
William Fryatt didn’t struggle, he went willingly, resigned to his fate with silent stoicism.
After he was out of sight XO turned and saluted Liberty. “Orders, sir.”
“Orders?” She spun around and removed the necklace. “I’m not the Captain.”
“Under Section A-115 of the Brethren military code, the XO has the right to appoint the most fitting candidate as Captain until an official tribunal has convened.”
“But you’re the more experienced officer.”
“Good or bad, I would rather see a Fryatt at the head of this ship than myself.”
She nodded and unclipped the end of the necklace, removing a gasket and sliding it on her finger. A lump hung in my throat. She’d kept it after all.
“Fine, fine,” she said. “I haven’t come this far to die. If they’re hell bent on killing us, then we will have to fight back; there’s no choice. But that doesn’t mean we destroy Europa if we succeed. David, take Griffin and fix the engines. We have a target to reach.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, getting up from my chair to give her a crisp salute.
“As for the rest of you, we have a close engagement to plan. I have a few ideas.”
[18]
It turned out Lank Hair was a better saboteur than I’d first expected. Not only had he cut the pipes which fed our ion engines’ electron guns with xenon gas, but he’d damaged several power relays connecting those tanks as well as four others to the navigation computer. His work was carefully hidden. He’d even tricked the sensors into thinking they were still operating. The little schemer had known what he was about, that was for sure.
“Thanks again,” I told Griffin as we worked, our bodies floating in the cramped space between the engine room and non-reactive fuel storage. “If not for you. I mean…”
She threw her arms around me and squeezed. I thought for a second my eyes might pop out of their sockets. “You would have done the same for any of us.” Her strictly platonic embrace went on and on—and on. She finally let go and shrugged it off. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I chuckled. “You’ve made me remember what it’s like to have a sister. You’re just like her in a lot of ways.”
She considered this for a moment, a single finger to her lips. When we’d first met she’d had a crush on me, clear as day, and so this comparison had to be a little strange. She nodded. “Never had a brother before.”
“First time for everything.”
“Here, let me hold that for you.” She slipped on her safety goggles and held up a fresh length of pipe. “Go for it.”
I began to work the piece into place, careful not to let the beads of liquid weld take flight in mirco-gravity and burn us. I wrapped the outside seam with a patch for safe measure.
“There we are.” I ripped off my safety goggles and tested the work with a push. “What do you say we ramp these thrusters up to full?”
In the engine room we did a final system’s check before hitting go. The thrusters came back to life, hurling ions out the back of our ship in a pale, blue stream. I’ve never sighed so hard in my life.
“Thank God,” I hissed, afraid the words might just undo our work. “Now that that’s over, we won’t go careening past Mars like a lost bullet. Fryatt might seem to think we’re aimed at Europa, but I’m not so sure his calculations are right.”
“We’ve got a chance to make this work,” Griffin replied. “I have a good feeling.”
I couldn’t help but consider our chances in close combat. My smile faded. We’d been damn lucky nothing had hit us but a fractured shot. That was likely to change when the gulf between our ships shrunk.
“Goddard, Griffin, to the bridge,” my watch called out. It was Liberty.
Griffin put the tips of her shoes to the wall and pushed off, turning a flip as she headed for the exit. “Best not keep them waiting. You comin’, fart face?”
“Taking a liking to this whole sister idea, ey?”
She smiled and stuck out her tongue.
“Question.”
“Yeah?” She paused.
“Was Lank Hair, I mean,” I shook my head, “was Graham who you thought had beaten me up?”
She peered off to the side, attention focused idly in the middle distance. “Yes,” was what she said, but I wasn’t convinced.
“Good enough for me.”
The ship was relatively quiet as we made for the forward end, narrow halls empty of crew. We passed through weapons storage and control, trying not to pay the former captain or Lank Hair any attention. They were each in their own tiny cells, furtively watching us as we passed. William Fryatt was reading an old copy of War and Peace, ironically enough, while Graham stared at a section of the wall, peeling off the paint. Griffin held her breath till we were safely back in the hall on the other side.
“Awkward,” she mumbled in singsong. What an understatement.
Just like the mid-journey turn, all crewmembers were gathered outside the bridge. However, this time, the doors were open. Liberty wanted everyone to hear what she had to say.
I sidled through the crowd, making a path for us, and found a place standing beside Dour Face just inside the bridge.
Griffin took a seat against the wall. “Anyone seen Kelly?”
“I haven’t,” Smith replied. “How about you, Rosaleigh?” Her name might as well have been pronounced sweetie by the inviting tone of her words.
“I saw him a few minutes ago. He wanted to check and see if Graham had done any damage in the maintenance core. I told him it was a waste of time given what the captain had said, but he persisted. So I let him in with my code.”
I leaned in to Dour Face’s ear and whispered, “Speaking of being in the core, I found your little doodles all over the ship.”
“I guess you would have had to by now.” He produced the black marker and held it up with reverence. “What good times we’ve had. Too bad I think she’s almost dry.”
“So, you just like vandalizing the ship?”
He shook his head and coughed. “No, I… Damn it, I draw when I get nervous or really stressed out. It helps me decompress, always has, like art therapy. In grade school my desk looked like an ancient Sumerian tablet for all the writing it had on it.”
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. I go running.”
“Running would be the better option, but I hate that shit. You’re the only person in this cramped joint who actually seems to like it, other than Jack.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just better than sitting still.”
He put the pen away and crossed his arms, scanning the room to see if he thought anyone was close enough to hear. “You know, when you gotta be a tough guy all your life because you’re big and imposing, dealing with feelings by drawing pictures sounds pretty damn weak. So, I guess by putting those lines in places I’m not supposed to be makes things a bit edgier, a little more macho, right? Makes me feel…”
“Like a rebellious badass?”
Dour Face frogged me in the shoulder and chuckled. “Exactly.” It was hardly a tap, and so I fought not to rub away the pain, but it wasn’t mean to be cruel.
“I don’t think you have anything to prove.”
Full disclosure, my shoulder throbbed with every heartbeat.
“We always have something to prove, hot shot. That never ends. And by the way, I heard your little nickname for me.”
“Oh?”
“Let’s say you call me Brix from now on.”
“Alright, but that’s not your name.”