The Venusian Gambit (10 page)

Archie smiled. “They don’t have the fuel. Just worry about the dock.”

There was little need to worry. Shaila expertly worked
Armstrong
’s chemical thrusters to align the two ships’ airlocks. The computer could’ve lined things up just as efficiently, but Shaila wanted the stick, trusting in her reflexes and reactions in case
Tienlong—
she still couldn’t think in terms of Stephane in command there—decided to make the docking difficult.

Yet there was no apparent reaction from
Tienlong
as the universal docking tube extended from
Armstrong
and latched onto
Tienlong
’s hull.
Armstrong
shuddered slightly, and then all was silent.

Shaila sat staring at the readouts for a few moments longer.

“You OK?” Archie asked.

She turned and smiled at him slightly. He cared deeply about her after what happened, she knew. He was a good guy, the grandfather she needed on the long voyage home, and she sometimes felt she gave him short shrift in return. “I’m fine. I’m going to see if anybody’s home over there and secure the lock. Put your helmet on and stay here. Lock the cockpit door behind me.”

She unbuckled from the seat and double-checked to see that her sidearm—another microwave emitter—was secured at her hip, then floated out of the cockpit into the rest of the sterile, deserted ship. It had been so full of life and promise on the trip out to Saturn, so utterly devoid of hope and joy on the way back. She was pretty damn sure she never wanted to set foot on this ship again when they finally got back to Earth.

Shaila shunted her thoughts aside as she reached the airlock, putting on her own suit helmet and activating the holographic heads-up display. Data scrolled across her field of visions, followed by a variety of alerts—her suit seal was good, she had several hours of oxygen and power remaining, and the ship’s network reported the airlock link between
Armstrong
and
Tienlong
was secure. There was no link between the two ships’ computers, however, which didn’t come as a complete surprise.
Tienlong—
Stephane—wouldn’t make this easy, and it wouldn’t be surprising if someone aboard the Chinese ship might try to hack
Armstrong
.

“Going in,” she said over her comm. She knew both Archie and the folks on
Hadfield
would be listening in. “I’ll secure the other side of the docking tube.”

With a few keystrokes on the control panel next to the airlock, she overrode normal docking procedures so that the tube itself wouldn’t be flooded with atmosphere from either ship; she wanted a vacuum between the two ships in case something tried to get across. Shaila then stepped into the airlock, closing it behind her, and felt the familiar whoosh of air as the atmosphere around her retreated back inside
Armstrong.
Red lights shifted to green, and the door in front of her opened into the tube now linking the two ships. She floated down the insulated, plastic corridor until she reached the outer airlock hatch on
Tienlong
’s hull.

Like the rest of the ship, the hatch was scored with meteorite impacts, black streaks upon the grey metal. Nothing appeared damaged, however, and the controls were helpfully labeled in both Mandarin and English—the Chinese took plenty of corporate exploitation missions, and English remained the
de facto
language of business around the world. Sadly, there was no window on the hatch through which she could see inside the ship.

“All right. Archie, send me the entry codes we got from the Chinese,” Shaila said. A moment later, a series of numbers and Chinese characters appeared on her HUD. She flipped open a panel on the right side of the airlock hatch, exposing the keyboard she needed, and plugged in the codes, hoping the Chinese weren’t suddenly feeling bad about JSC taking the lead on this particular humanitarian mission.

A red light began blinking above the hatch; the depressurization process was beginning inside
Tienlong
’s airlock, as per usual. She waited until the light turned a steady green and, with a deep breath, turned the hatch’s locking mechanism. With her other hand, she grabbed her weapon and pointed.

Nothing.

The inside of the airlock was as expected. Her suit sensors helpfully ran a diagnostic on the visible ships systems, and all seemed in order. There was a small window that opened into the rest of the ship, but from her vantage point outside, all Shaila could see was dim lighting and, blessedly, no movement.

“
Hadfield
, this is Jain. All clear here. I’m going to enter the airlock and close it behind me. Over.”

“Roger that, Jain,” Diaz replied over the comm. “We’re about four minutes out. We’ll be joining you shortly. Do not pressurize and enter the ship until I give word. Over.”

“Roger,
Hadfield
. Over.”

Shaila couldn’t help but smile slightly; Diaz seemed to think she was going to go in, guns blazing. Of course, she
wanted
to. She wanted to charge in and make her way to the cockpit, where she was sure she’d find Stephane. But dammit, she was a Royal Navy officer and JSC astronaut. She had orders, and she was going to follow them.

Shaila entered the airlock and closed the outer door behind her. More codes appeared on her HUD—activation codes that would allow her to repressurize the lock and enter
Tienlong
. She wouldn’t use them, though. The outer door was easy enough to re-open, and if need be, she’d tell Archie to do an emergency “drop” of the docking tube—allowing it to release from both ships and drift off into space—rather than have someone charge through. The inner door remained secure, and she could now see through the window that the corridor in front of her was empty, with only emergency lights on.

Shaila tried to access
Tienlong
’s wireless network—using a special encrypted sandbox to keep
Armstrong
’s systems secure—but kept coming up with no response, even with the override codes the Chinese provided. She could theoretically jack in physically, but the nearest computer screen was on the other side of the airlock door…

…where someone was now floating.

Shaila gasped slightly at the sight; she’d been distracted by the technology in front of her, and the data on her HUD, to pay much attention to the darkened corridor beyond the hatch. But there, outside the airlock, a person watched her from the shadows, grasping handholds on the wall and floating silently less than four meters away.

The person—she couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman—didn’t even show up on sensors. She just…showed up.

“
Hadfield
, Jain. Contact made. Single unidentified target. Over.” A small part of her was surprised at the calm in her voice.

“We see the feed from your helmet cam, Jain,” Diaz said, equally calm. “Stay in the airlock and do not engage until backup arrives. If the target advances, retreat into the tube. Confirm.”

“Confirmed,” Jain replied. “I will not engage. Over.”

Shaila peered into the darkness. As her eyes adjusted, she could see that the figure was female, and that meant it was Maria Conti,
Armstrong
’s biologist and medical officer. She had accompanied Col. Mark Nilsson over to
Tienlong
when it was in orbit over Titan. Nilsson was later ejected from an airlock—the very same airlock Shaila stood in—without his helmet. A transmission from
Tienlong
later showed Conti standing behind Stephane. Shaila and the DAEDALUS team concurred that she, like Stephane, was likely possessed as well.

“She’s not doing anything,” Archie said over the comm. “Wonder why.”

“I think she’s keeping me in place,” Shaila replied. “She probably doesn’t want me getting in. Which means…
Hadfield
, they have a plan for us. That burn they did wasn’t just evasion.”

“Agreed,” Diaz replied from
Hadfield
. “Stay glued on her and prepare to move. Three minutes.”

Shaila waited, her weapon out of view but firmly in hand. For her part, Conti remained in the corridor, in the shadows between the emergency lighting. Shaila raised her hand and waved to Conti, but she remained motionless. In fact, she was so still that Shaila found herself checking to see if Conti was still breathing, but at least her chest rose and fell in rhythm. Still, it was unnerving as hell.

Shaila looked around the airlock, with her HUD giving her information on what she was seeing: outer hatch lock, emergency evac…communication relay. Not a full jack-in to the ship’s computers, but a simple patch to put her in speakers.

Shaila plugged a thin cord from her suit gauntlet into the relay, then flipped the comm switch. “
Tienlong
, this is acting Captain Shaila Jain of the JSC Ship
Armstrong
. You are in violation of the U.N. Space Charter and will be boarded. You are directed to gather in the ship’s common room, where you will surrender and be taken into custody. Acknowledge.”

Conti didn’t move.

“I demand to speak with the current commander of this vessel. Where is Stephane Durand?” she asked, her voice cracking ever-so-slightly at the mention of his name.

Again, no movement.

Shaila was tempted to talk further, but found she had little else to say. She kept her suit plugged into the comm relay, but muted the link. If they wanted to talk to her, they’d know where to find her.

“Archie, any movements you can see in the windows?” Shaila asked.

“Negative, still too damn foggy,” he replied. “Got eyes on
Hadfield
, though. She came in like a bat outta hell, and lined up damn perfectly. You would’ve liked it.”

Shaila smiled despite herself. “Can’t wait to meet the pilot. Is he—wait.”

Conti was moving.

Without warning, she turned her head away from the airlock toward the rest of the ship. She then pushed off back down the corridor; Shaila assumed she was headed for the ventral airlock where
Hadfield
was docking.

“Looks like I’m all clear here,” Shaila said. “
Hadfield
, you’re probably getting company at your airlock. Do you wish me to pursue? Over.”

“Negative,” Diaz replied. “Stay put until the team comes to get you. Acknowledge.”

Shaila grimaced at that, but kept her cool. “Roger that,
Hadfield.
I—whoa!”

A face suddenly appeared right in front of the window.

“Fuck!
Hadfield
, are you seeing this?” Shaila said, a little too loudly.

“We have visual,” Diaz said coolly. “Identify.”

Overcoming her surprise, Shaila looked at the Chinese man now staring back at her. “I…yeah. Chinese officer, I think it’s Shen Jie,” Shaila said, pulling the man’s face from her memory. She had studied the crew files regularly in transit from Saturn, though any resemblance between the holoimage of a smiling People’s Army major and the man before her now was superficial at best. Shen’s black hair was matted with sweat, sticking to his scalp. His eyes were dilated and bloodshot, and the bags and dark circles under them were incredibly, almost sickeningly pronounced. His mouth was slightly opened, and Shaila could see his teeth were a putrid, neon yellow.

“Confirming Major Shen Jie,” Diaz replied. “Stay put. I’ve informed the fire team. They’ll pull him off you.”

Suddenly, Shen pushed off the hatch and floated back into the corridor—toward a control panel about five meters from the airlock door.

Shen pressed a few buttons, and a red light began flashing insistently inside the airlock. “Negative,
Hadfield
,” Shaila said. “He’s going to open the lock. Repeat, Shen is opening the airlock.”

“Brace!” Diaz shouted.

Shaila grabbed a handhold and pressed her feet against the outer hatch. The inner door swept open, and a split second later, all the pressurized atmosphere from
Tienlong
rushed into the airlock. Despite her best efforts, Shaila’s grip was torn from her handhold and she was slammed into the outer hatch by the onslaught of air blowing into the little chamber.

When she opened her eyes again, Shen was sailing toward her fast…with a knife in his hand and an inhuman look of rage on his face.

Shaila’s training took over just as the air pressure subsided and she felt herself floating free again. Pushing up with her feet, she grabbed a handhold on the ceiling of the airlock and then kicked outward—catching Shen in the face with a boot. The astronaut twirled around with the force of the blow, blood spraying from his mouth in all directions, creating tiny crimson droplets floating through the lock. Meanwhile, Shaila allowed her momentum to carry her out of the airlock, effectively trading places with Shen. A few seconds later, Shaila was able to grab the control panel for the lock, arresting her movement just as Shen was shaking off the effects of the kick.

“Shit, which button?” Shaila muttered. Unlike the outer lock, all the buttons were in Chinese. Helpfully, her suit computer immediately projected translations onto her HUD. She pressed what she hoped would be the right sequence….

…and turned to find Shen wedged within the closing door, halfway between the airlock and the corridor. He was stuck, and angry.

Shaila floated over and, keeping her distance, gave the Chinese astronaut a closer look. He certainly
looked
like he was battling an infection. His skin was incredibly pale, and coated with a thin sheen of sweat. There were dark stains under the arms of his uniform and around his collar. He looked as though he’d been bedridden and hadn’t been able to keep up with his personal hygiene—his teeth, now bared, were purple in spots and probably rotting inside his mouth.

But it was the eyes that hit Shaila the most. They were wide and feral. There were streaks of blood around Shen’s mouth in every direction, and he was…growling, it seemed, though the sound was blessedly muffled by Shaila’s suit.

“Report, Jain,” Diaz said over the comm.

“You seeing this, ma’am?”

“Roger that. Neutralize him and head to the ventral hatch to support Parrish. Acknowledge.”