LOCK RELEASED.
The airlock hissed and began to slide open. As soon as the opening was wide enough for a person to squeeze through, Ru grabbed Micah by the arm and shoved him into it. As she followed, there was an explosion at the main door that sent shards of plasteel flying toward the bay. Ru hit the airlock control as soon as they were inside and the airlock started to shut again, muffling the noise of people yelling and the smell of smoke and the noise of charred debris skittering across the floor.
The ship’s entry hatch opened to receive them and they rushed through it, not caring what kind of ship lay beyond, or who was inside. Anything other than the naked vacuum of space would be welcome. “Cast off!” Ru cried. “Now!”
There was one woman inside the pod, and while she was clearly startled to hear Ru giving orders, their bloody and disheveled appearance must have made the need clear enough. The pod was a small one, so they stood over her shoulder as she resealed the ship, then triggered the release of the mooring clamps and began to lift off from the core—
Only the ship didn’t move.
The woman scowled and tried again. The ship jerked, but didn’t break free.
“Shit,” Ru muttered. The people on the other side of the airlock must have jammed the mooring clamps. Micah watched the pilot try to break free by sheer force. Finally, cursing in exasperation, she called up a display of the outer hull, and he and Ru watched as two short-range lasers emerged. They fired, and two of the mooring clamps became slag. “Boss will not be happy about that,” the pilot muttered, as the small ship finally broke free.
A shudder of relief passed through Micah. Were they really going to get away? He watched the display in trepidation, but no ships left the core to follow them. For the moment, at least, they appeared to be safe.
The pilot twisted back to look at them. “I don’t know what the fuck you two brought with you that smells like a ten-day-old corpse, but it needs to be ejected. The boss won’t like it if we stink up the home dock.”
Scowling, Ru shrugged out of her jacket—no small feat in the cramped confines of the small pod—then rolled it inside out so that the tainted outer layer was wrapped in the safeskin lining. She tucked the resulting package under her arm and glared at the pilot. After a moment the woman shrugged and turned back to the navigation console.
We’re safe, Micah thought. We made it. His fingers stroked the headset that was tucked into his belt. And with any luck, our adversary’s secrets are coming with us.
* * *
The lights came on as they entered the Artemis, and by the time Ru was seated in the pilot’s chair everything was up and running. “Strap in,” she said. “This could be a rough ride.”
By the time Micah was in his seat with his safety harness activated, the ship was already free of its mooring, and was turning toward the course that Ru had chosen, a channel of open space between flyways and docked ships that looked dangerously narrow to him. But he trusted that she knew what she was doing.
As of yet there was no sign of pursuit. He knew that because the row of screens high over the navigation console was now displaying a full panoramic view of the surrounding space, and nothing was moving in their direction. But that didn’t mean they were safe yet. The Artemis might be impressive, but some of the bigger vessels here could probably fly circles around it. Which was probably the reason for this route, he realized. A larger ship would be hard pressed to follow them through this narrow channel.
“Shutting down the G-field,” she told him. “Brace yourself.” A second later his stomach lurched as the ship’s faux-gravity suddenly disappeared. Inertia from a few sharp turns took its place, pressing him against the straps of his harness. The last one took them around the back of a cluster of matching ships, and then they were in the open, beyond the tentacles of the Hydra beast, with deep space a black sea before them.
“Don’t breathe easy yet,” she warned.
“Oh, I’m not, believe me.” There were two ships leaving the core now. Regular Hydran business, or something directed at them? His heart raced as he watched them on the screen, lifting from the surface as if in slow motion; in that crowded neighborhood one couldn’t afford to fly too quickly. But she would have. He glanced over at Ru, and saw her eyes were gleaming with excitement. She would have flown at full speed through that mess, and God help any ships that got in her way.
Hydra was starting to grow smaller on the screens as it slowly fell behind them. Ru reached out to adjust the display, and a sensor grid overlaid the image. The Artemis was scanning the space surrounding them for activity. No motion nearby, the readout indicated. No noteworthy mass. No energy signature, other than their own. Micah allowed himself the luxury of a deep sigh.
“Looks good so far,” she muttered. “Next stop, Harmony Station.” A proposed course appeared on one of the lower screens, and she locked it in.
“That’s pretty direct,” he said. “If anyone wants to cut us off they’ll know where to find us.”
“They’ve got the buoys, remember? Wherever and whenever we pass them, people will know it. Hopefully they don’t pay much attention to outgoing traffic.” She adjusted the display scale again; some stars grew brighter, others were swallowed by blackness. “The only ships in that place that can outrun Artemis have too much mass to get up to speed quickly. Assuming we can put enough distance between us and them to start with, we should be good.”
It didn’t take long at that speed to reach the buoys; still no signs of pursuit had been detected. When they finally got beyond the buoys’ sensor range, Ru leaned back in her seat, rubbing her neck with her good hand. “I’m setting up an alarm, so we can relax a bit. Though I think, at this point, it’s safe to say no one is following us.” She looked at Micah; her eyes narrowed in concern. “You should let the medpod check out that head injury.”
“You should let the medpod check out that hand injury.”
“Sorry.” She smiled sweetly. “Concussion trumps fracture.”
It was hard to argue with that.
But there was nothing inside his head that was worth getting alarmed about—or so the medpod told him—and as he returned to the front of the ship she opened her safety belt and let it withdraw back into the chair. “Why don’t you pull out the table and order us a couple of drinks? Here.” She adjusted a control and suddenly the G-field was back on. “Easier to pour this way.” She picked her bundled jacket up from the floor. “I’m going to dump this in the sterilizer. Hopefully that’ll get the smell out.”
As she went to open the armory he did as suggested, and by the time she returned he had the table and chairs out, and a pair of tall glasses with amber shots in them ready and waiting. “To an uneventful flight?” he said, as he handed her one.