Prison Ship (34 page)

A faint tapping came from the small window in the door. Boon’s face peered through the heavy glass. His hands trembling with exhilaration, Travis stood up from the cot and mouthed the code to the cyberneticist. Boon disappeared from view, and three seconds later, the barrier moved aside.

Stepping out of the cell, Travis shook Boon’s hand. “I’ve been expecting you. Are the charges in place?”

Reaching inside his tunic, Boon produced a tiny transmitter.

“Well then, let’s start a mutiny,” Travis said.

AFTER closing the coffin, Steiner, Mason, Spider, and J.R. lifted it and placed it inside the open air-lock chamber. Glancing over at Mason, Steiner saw a fiery anger burning in his eyes. Before exiting, the pilot muttered a few words to Sam. Steiner couldn’t make out everything he had said, but he definitely heard the word “revenge.”

Steiner closed the inner hatch, sealing the casket inside. The video monitor at the side of the door displayed the metal box.

“And now, we commit the body of our dear friend Sam Perez to the sanctuary of the heavens,” Steiner said, then entered the code that opened the outer hatch. The coffin vanished into the eternal abyss of space, gone forever.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: For thou art with me,” Daniels said. “Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.”

Everyone had bowed his head, except for Steiner. Someone had quoted something like that at Mary’s funeral, too, as if God would comfort them in their loss. Lies. God had stolen another friend away, just as he had Mary and Suzanne.

The floor vibrated, causing the air in Steiner’s lungs to freeze.

“We can’t be under attack, can we?” Mason asked.

“No, that couldn’t have been an energy blast from another ship,” Daniels answered. “Something on board exploded.”

“It must’ve come from the engine room,” J.R. shouted.

“Code Red,” Daniels said. All the engineers raced down the corridor.

Steiner grabbed his comlink. “Tramer, what happened? What exploded?”

The comlink remained quiet. The active light still glowed on the overhead camera.

Steiner waved his arms in front of the lens. “Tramer, are you there?”

Again, no response.

The weapons officer should have answered already.

Drawing his weapon, Steiner sprinted toward the command center.

DANIELS reached the control cubicle first. Crimson lights flashed. The fire alarm blared throughout the area. Black smoke billowed from the depths of the reactor chamber. Mike, the attendant inside the cubicle, ran out to meet him.

“It’s the backup cooling generator,” he stammered. “It exploded for no reason.”

“Shut down all the drive systems until we have it contained,” Daniels instructed.

Mike sprinted back to his post and carried out the instructions. The exterior lights on the reactors went dark, and the steady drone died out.

Reddish orange bursts continued to flash through the growing haze at the opposite end of the chamber. At any cost, they had to keep the blaze from spreading. As a last resort, they could seal off the massive room and blow the hatch, but it would take more than a day to repressurize it and get the reactors going again. If they could, they had to try to contain it first.

As if reading Daniels’s mind, J.R., Charles, Fred, and Andrew opened the fire-equipment cabinet, pulled out the heat-resistant suits, and started to climb into them. Spider took one of the outfits, but just stared at it, making no move to put it on.

“We need all the help we can out there,” Daniels said. “Are you up to it?”

Spider gave a weak smile. “I’ll be fine.”

As he slipped into his own protective gear, Daniels watched Spider dress. He knew the best remedy for the man’s fears was to face them again.

After all six of them had suited up, and their extinguishers had been strapped on, they charged out into the engine chamber. The tanks of chemicals strapped to their backs bounced as they sprinted down the center aisle between two of the long cylindrical reactors. Black smoke swirled around the components. When they reached the site, they found flames engulfing the backup cooling generator and threatening to spread to the neighboring units. J.R. fought them back so they wouldn’t do so. The rest of the staff took the blaze straight on.

Daniels couldn’t figure out what could have caused it. A system that rarely got used shouldn’t explode like that. It couldn’t have happened by negligence. Someone must have sabotaged it.

A shiver went down his back. Almost as if warned by a sixth sense, he spun around and saw a flash of light inside the control cubicle. He saw the attendant stationed there slump to the ground. Another figure moved into the cubicle.

“Mike, do you read?” Daniels called into his headset.

No one responded.

A distant motor whined. Daniels squinted his eyes and saw the pressure door at the front entrance coming down.

“Dear God,” he whispered.

The fire had been the bait for a trap.

GUN in hand, Steiner raced to the top of steps and into the command center. It was deserted. Where could Tramer have—?

“Drop your weapon, Captain,” Mack Palmer said from somewhere.

Steiner froze, his eyes searching for the hidden man.

“Do it now,” Palmer shouted.

The pilot knelt behind the helm station with an AT-7 pistol muzzle raised over its edge.

Steiner dropped his gun to the floor and slid it across the deck with his foot.

Palmer stood up. “Welcome, Captain—to the end of your short life.”

“STOP!” Daniels shouted to the other engineers, and pointed to the door. Everyone ceased fighting the flames and stared in horror.

“Why are they locking us in?” Spider shrieked.

“They must be planning to blow the hatch,” J.R. said.

“No, no, I don’t want to die,” Spider shouted.

Daniels realized they still had a chance to escape. “Everyone to the church! Hurry!”

Shedding their extinguishers, the engineers raced to the ladder that led up into the bulkhead above and began to scramble up it. Daniels brought up the rear, directly behind the whimpering Spider. Rung by rung, Daniels climbed toward safety. A quick glance back at the pressure door found the barrier finishing its trek to the bottom. As soon as the appropriate keystrokes were entered, they would all instantly be sucked into space.

“Put on your oxygen masks,” Daniels ordered the others. One by one, they all activated the backup air supplies built into their fire suits.

An explosion shook the ladder. Daniels’s left boot slipped from one of the rungs. He dangled, held up only by his hands, until he could get his footing back. Spider screamed wildly. Looking over his shoulder, Daniels saw that the exterior hatch was still intact. The noise had been caused by the backup cooling generator bursting into a fierce inferno.

Spider started gasping in short breaths, his fists frozen tight to the rungs of the ladder.

“Spider, it was the generator, not the hatch,” Daniels shouted. “Keep going.”

The man shook his head. “I can’t.”

“If you don’t, we’re both going to die.”

Spider remained still for several heartbeats, then raced up the rungs in a frenzy, catching up with the other engineers in seconds. The abrupt change in behavior stunned Daniels. With all his might, he followed behind him up into the dark tube cut in the bulkhead.

If only they had a moment longer.

The engineers in the lead had already reached the church and begun dragging the others up into the air lock.

Please God,
Daniels prayed.
I don’t care about myself, but save my men.

The other engineers lifted Spider out, then their hands reached down and grabbed Daniels. Immediately, he was drawn upward into the lighted chamber. He fell to the floor amidst his rescuers, and they dragged him clear of the hatch.

An earsplitting crack came from below followed by an explosive rush of escaping air. The sheer force lifted them from their feet. The instant it began, it ended. Daniels landed a few feet away, the other engineers falling on top of him. A sharp hiss sounded, and his ears popped. Pushing a boot out of his face, Daniels rose out of the sprawled heap.

Spider lay on top of the closed hatch, shuddering uncontrollably.

WITH his AT-7 muzzle aimed at Steiner, Palmer reached down and retrieved the other pistol and shoved it under his belt. “You can come out now, Simmons. He’s disarmed.”

The small man’s head popped up from inside the stairwell that led to the navigation chamber. His eyes darted about uncertainly, then he came up the rest of the steps.

Palmer moved closer to Steiner, halting within an arm’s reach. “Give me your comlink.”

With his gaze fixed on the pilot’s weapon, Steiner slowly disconnected the device from his belt and handed it over. Palmer threw it to the ground, shattering it.

“We can’t have you calling for help,” he said with a smirk. “Can we?”

Keeping his temper under tight control, Steiner glared at him.

“I’ll inform Travis that we succeeded,” Simmons said, moving to the communication station.

Steiner’s heart rate jumped. Travis Quinn? How could he be involved in this? He had been locked up in a detention cell.

The navigator pressed a keypad on the console. “Engine room, this is the command center.”

“Do you have the captain?” Quinn’s voice asked.

Shivers raked through Steiner’s bones. How had he gotten free?

“We have him,” Simmons answered.

“Good. Our allies have all joined us on the lower level. Daniels and his flock are already dead.”

Steiner gasped. His shock melted into rage.

“Bring the captain down here,” Quinn said. “We need him to serve as an example to the rest of the crew.”

“We’re on our way,” the navigator responded, then closed the channel and turned to Palmer. “Mack, give me the captain’s pistol. I want to be armed when we escort him down.”

“Not a chance,” Palmer replied. “I wouldn’t trust you with it. You might accidentally shoot me.”

Simmons’s face flushed. “I’m the one who introduced you to Boon. You wouldn’t be a part of this if it hadn’t been for me. Give me the captain’s pistol.”

“No.”

Without warning, Simmons grabbed the gun from under Palmer’s belt and yanked it out. Palmer turned fiery red as he tried to seize it back. In that brief instant, Steiner made his move.

A swift kick sent the AT-7 flying from Palmer’s hand. It landed under the helm station. Cursing, the pilot dove after it.

Steiner leapt on top of Simmons and both of them went tumbling down into the stairwell. As they rolled over one another, Steiner’s left hand closed around his stolen pistol. His head burst into pain as it hit the edge of a step. His fingers lost hold of the gun. He tumbled into a heap at the bottom of the stairs, with Simmons on top of him.

Bright flashes exploded into the wall above them, showering down burning embers.

Simmons scrambled over Steiner, desperately fleeing into the interior of the room.

Steiner threw himself deeper inside the chamber, barely avoiding another onslaught of searing beams blazing down the stairwell.

Simmons cowered in the far corner, his shaking hands trying to steady the pistol. Steiner pounced on the navigator and tried to pry the AT-7 from his grasp.

Footsteps sounded from the stairwell.

Palmer raced into the chamber, firing blindly. Steiner dropped to the floor as bolts scorched the wall above him. He saw Palmer’s pistol level—

A bolt flashed out of Steiner’s peripheral vision and struck Palmer’s chest. The pilot fell back, convulsed, then went perfectly still.

Simmons whimpered, holding the smoking AT-7. Steiner used the navigator’s hesitation to rip the gun from his grasp.

“What are you going to do with me?” Simmons whined.

Steiner aimed the muzzle at the navigator’s head and paused, watching the beads of sweat building up on the other’s face.

“Please don’t kill me,” Simmons sobbed. “I can help you.”

“You can bet on it.” Steiner brought the handle of the gun down sharply against the man’s head, knocking him out cold.

Steiner jumped over Palmer’s body and raced up the stairwell. Sliding into his command chair, he sealed off all the pressure doors on the lower level. If he had been too late to stop a mutiny, perhaps he could contain it.

It wasn’t long before Quinn’s voice came back over the intercom. “Palmer, Simmons, what happened up there?”

Steiner activated the channel. “Make a good guess.”

“My respect for you has increased, Captain. Maybe you aren’t as weak as I first thought. To the death then.” The channel went silent.

DEATH looked more like a kaleidoscope of images from life. Faces of family and friends passed by in endless parades. The pressures of existence had faded into unwanted memories. Only a warm sensation remained, whispering to embrace it.

Jacob Steiner strode out of a cloud of swirling mist, dressed in a P.A.V. uniform. He stood at attention and saluted. Behind him, just out of focus, many shadowy figures hunched, like stalking predators.

Look out behind you!

He didn’t seem to hear.

Ralph Jamison materialized out of the haze in the background, snuck up behind Jacob Steiner, and pulled out a gleaming knife.

Jake!

Jamison thrust the blade into Steiner.

No!

Suzanne’s eyes popped open. The overwhelming glare of the outside world stung them shut again. Knowing only that Jake needed her help, she sat up from where she lay and saw a blurry form looking down at her.

“Miss Riggs?” a female voice gasped.

Blinking to orient her vision, Suzanne focused on a strange woman standing above her, dressed in a white uniform. Nausea swept through her. Her head fell back onto a soft pillow.

The woman leaned over, a smile widening across her face. “Welcome back from the dead. We were afraid that you might never awaken from your coma.”

“Where am I?” she asked, not recognizing her own raspy voice.