"We'll soon know," Ian muttered as they continued to close in.
Ian had read about them for years and had watched them on countless videos, but nothing, absolutely nothing had prepared him for the sheer awesome size of a colonial unit. It filled the entire sky, as if it would somehow en compass the universe. Nothing in his experience could possibly compare with the massive double-curve sweep of the twin torus that slowly wheeled on either side of them as they closed in toward the docking ring on the main shaft.
The sheer mass of the object was enough to create a minor gravitational disturbance that required Stasz to pro vide a slightly increased deceleration as they closed in.
As the four of them floated toward the docking bay, Shelley passed out hard copies of the ship's design and schematics of the blueprints now that the particular des ignation of the ship had been confirmed by exterior mark ings. They had already detected half a dozen unrepaired holes in the vessel, one of them a twenty-meter puncture through the main shaft. So there was little if any hope of finding any life.
Ian was dreading the encounter for fear of what he would find. In the three hours of closing there had been no signal of any kind. There was no sign of interior lighting and no heat dissipation from the coolant radiators.
Sealing himself into his bulky pressure suit, Ian settled into the docking bay and waited, listening intently as Stasz called out the ever-closing range.
There was a faint jar as the adjustable docking unit connected with the hull of the other ship. The green light over the docking-bay hatch turned yellow, and he could feel the pressure suit crinkling as the docking chamber depressurized.
The light overhead changed to red. Ian looked at the other three and nodded. There they were, four heroes, ready to go forward in the name of Democratic Bureau cracy. Four heroes, and he couldn't help but laugh, his high-pitched giggle sounding somewhat foolish and slightly hysterical.
He punched the button in front of him and the hatch slid open. They were locked up against the side of the colony, pressed against a nonrotating collar in the middle of the central shaft. A manual docking door was in front of him, instructions in Japanese, English, and Russian written across it.
Within seconds he had deciphered their meaning, and, grabbing the two handles alongside the door, Ian attempted to rotate them.
He spun in the opposite direction.
After several minutes of cursing and sweating, the other three helped brace him into position and he tried again.
As if on rusted hinges, the handles gave way slowly then suddenly they broke free and started to spin of their own volition. The doorway slid open. A slight puff of air came out of the ship. Ian looked up and his mind blanked out in horror as the ship's radio overloaded with his hys terical screams.
Ellen was back in the corner, still clawing at the escape latch back into their own ship, which would not open with the outside door unlatched. Yes, he could see that now. Panicked, Ian looked around, the only sound his own convulsive breathing and Ellen's soft whimpers coming over the radio set.
"Ian, it's all right, it's all right." It was a soft, soothing voice. Richard, yes, it was Richard.
He could feel the hands on his shoulder. His friend's face was barely visible behind the helmet, and his own vision was obscured by the moisture from his hyperven- tilation.
He looked back and started to turn his head.
"No, not yet, Ian. Don't look back until you're ready."
"What-" He started to sob again. "What-Richard, what is it?"
"It's a body, Ian," Richard said softly, "it's nothing but a body mummified by the low pressure and dry air. It can't hurt you now, Ian. He just gave you a start when the change in pressure made him drift out of the airlock toward you."
"Yeah, just a start." Ian could feel his self-possession on the edge of falling apart again.
"Take a few more deep breaths and when you feel ready you can turn around."
"Where is he?"
"Shelley moved him back into the colony's airlock. She's waiting for us in there. I'm going over to Ellen now." He let go of Ian, and, pushing off from the wall, he floated over to where Ellen hung like a cat clinging to a sheer wall. Her sobbing still filled the headset.
Ian took a couple of more deep breaths and slowly turned.
As she poked around the interior of the colony's air lock, Shelley was barely visible except for her headlamp. While she searched around, she absently hung on to the mummified body with one hand.
Bracing himself, Ian pushed forward into the ship.
"Dr. Lacklin, I've found the airlock into the main cor ridor of the central shaft.
"Wait a minute, we better close the hatch behind us before continuing on in."
Ian looked back toward Richard and Ellen.
"Go on without us," Richard said. "I'm taking Ellen back in and giving her a stress pill."
Stress pill! Hell, he was the one the damn mummy banged into. Out of the corner of his eye he examined the body that Shelley was still hanging on to. A cold grimace of desiccated flesh and bone stared back at him out of lifeless, haunting sockets. He looked away.
Shelley, ignoring his fear, floated back to the docking door and closed it. Looking around the room, she noticed some Velcro stripping along one wall and without any ceremony pushed the mummy up against it. The fastabs on the body's uniform locked him into place. Leaving him on the wall, she floated back to Ian.
As she passed by him there was a flash of a smile that made Ian shudder. She was enjoying this!
"Want me to open this one?" she asked.
He nodded and closed his eyes. Would he ever be able to open a door again?
She turned the handle. There was a faint whisper of air as the pressure equalized. Something bumped against him. He wanted to scream, but with a supreme effort he repressed it. Opening his eyes, he discovered that Shelley was up against him.
He half suspected that she had banged into him on purpose, and a slightly mischievous smile almost confirmed it. There were no bodies inside, however, and to gether they pushed into the main corridor and started to explore.
"Shelley, Ian, this is Stasz. You better prepare for your return. Your in-suit reserve is below twenty percent."
Ian checked the elapsed time on his arm-mounted watch. Nearly six hours and not one percent of the vessel explored. They hadn't even gotten out of the main shaft area.
The sheer number of bodies overloaded his senses, but he had slowly grown inured to their presence or he was simply in shock and the reaction would hit later.
The forms of death were varied and frightening. Every where the dead leered at them, some gently floating by as the opening of long-locked blast doors and passage ways triggered gentle currents in air that had not moved for centuries. Most of the cabins still held some air, but neither Shelley nor Ian dared to remove their helmets to try it. The command and control enter had been totally destroyed by a hulling-the impact that had punched a twenty-meter hole clear through the vessel with an egress puncture nearly fifty meters across.
Most of what they explored were various access pas sageways, docking terminals, and the guidance center for the ship's sails, where half a dozen desiccated forms were still strapped to their couches.
"Dr. Lacklin, I'm in what appears to be a communi cations center on level three, section four. Would you please join me?"
Turning about, he floated back up the corridor that she had followed only moments before. He pushed past a small body that held an even smaller form to its breast- he didn't look closer.
There was a faint light coming out of a room. He pushed his way in and to his surprise found that she had managed to locate a backup lighting system that could still function. A soft, diffused light radiated from overhead panels.