Nikolai.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Ducarti was asking us about junk DNA and lists of secret agents hidden in the grain. Was he telling the truth, or is he chasing a red herring?”
“Not here,” said Corbin, glancing along the corridor. Far in the distance, nearly a kilometer down the dorsal corridor, I could see the closed blast doors that sealed off the bridge. If Ducarti realized what had happened, he could simply open the doors and spray gunfire down the corridor until we were all dead. “Engineering room. We’ll be safer there.”
“Will we?” I said. I supposed Ducarti wouldn’t want to start shooting in the engineering room, given all the various machines and devices that could explode. Shooting a conduit of coolant or drive plasma is a really, really bad idea.
“Given that I’ve rigged the hypermatter reactor to explode, yes,” said Corbin.
Murdock and I stared at him.
“How is that safer?” I said at last.
“What?” said Murdock.
“Come on,” said Corbin. “This isn’t the place to talk about it. Wait, Nikolai—grab his helmet. We might need it in a few minutes.”
I shrugged and pulled off the helmet of the nearest dead commando. The face beneath the mask was slack, the eyes glassy and staring. I suppose I should have felt something, a pang of emotion, a flicker of feeling at our shared mortality, but the guy had been planning shove me out an airlock to die, so I was just glad not to be in his place.
“Move, people,” snapped Nelson, keeping his newly-acquired K7 pointed towards the distant bridge blast doors. I tucked the helmet under one arm and followed Murdock and Corbin and the other techs towards the engineering doors. A mass of wires dangled from the doors’ control panel.
“Computer lockout,” said Corbin in response to the unanswered question. “The captain sealed the doors to the engineering section. So we ripped out the network connection and used the manual override.”
Murdock grunted. “Bet it made a lot of noise.”
“It did,” said Corbin. “Of course, we knew it would, so Mr. Nelson and a few of the techs laid an ambush. When four of Ducarti’s commandos showed up, we surprised them and relieved them of their lives and their weapons.”
“It was regulation-smooth,” said Nelson, which was probably the highest compliment he had for anything.
We headed into the engineering room. It was a big room, twice as large as the bridge, and stuffed with consoles and instrument tables. At the moment, all of the consoles and instrument tables showed the same SYSTEM LOCKED message I had seen in the computer room and the bridge. Nelson dispatched two of the techs to guard the doors back to the dorsal corridor. Both men had K7 rifles taken from dead commandos, and anyone trying to force their way into the engine room would meet a hail of gunfire.
“All right,” said Murdock. “I think you’ve got some questions to answer, Corbin.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Like junk DNA and secret agents.”
“First things first,” said Murdock, cutting me off, “Are you really going to blow up the ship, Rovio?”
“I hope not,” said Corbin. He reached into a pocket of his jacket and drew out a flat black box. “Nikolai. Recognize this?”
My head was still aching and it took a moment to get my brain into focus. “That is a… reinforced computer processor. Shielded against EMP pulses and radiation and stuff like that.” Some of the charts I had memorized for my certification tests swam up to the forefront of my thoughts. “There’s only a few of them on the ship. So that means…”
I blinked. Then I swallowed. Hard.
Murdock let out a few curses. Somehow, he never seemed to repeat himself.
“You took that out of the regulator on the hypermatter reactor,” I said, resisting the urge to send a nervous glance at the metal deck beneath my feet. “That means the reactor is destabilizing, right now!”
“It will explode,” said Corbin, tucking the processor back
“Yeah,” I said. “Ducarti was asking us about junk DNA and lists of secret agents hidden in the grain. Was he telling the truth, or is he chasing a red herring?”
“Not here,” said Corbin, glancing along the corridor. Far in the distance, nearly a kilometer down the dorsal corridor, I could see the closed blast doors that sealed off the bridge. If Ducarti realized what had happened, he could simply open the doors and spray gunfire down the corridor until we were all dead. “Engineering room. We’ll be safer there.”
“Will we?” I said. I supposed Ducarti wouldn’t want to start shooting in the engineering room, given all the various machines and devices that could explode. Shooting a conduit of coolant or drive plasma is a really, really bad idea.
“Given that I’ve rigged the hypermatter reactor to explode, yes,” said Corbin.
Murdock and I stared at him.
“How is that safer?” I said at last.
“What?” said Murdock.
“Come on,” said Corbin. “This isn’t the place to talk about it. Wait, Nikolai—grab his helmet. We might need it in a few minutes.”
I shrugged and pulled off the helmet of the nearest dead commando. The face beneath the mask was slack, the eyes glassy and staring. I suppose I should have felt something, a pang of emotion, a flicker of feeling at our shared mortality, but the guy had been planning shove me out an airlock to die, so I was just glad not to be in his place.
“Move, people,” snapped Nelson, keeping his newly-acquired K7 pointed towards the distant bridge blast doors. I tucked the helmet under one arm and followed Murdock and Corbin and the other techs towards the engineering doors. A mass of wires dangled from the doors’ control panel.
“Computer lockout,” said Corbin in response to the unanswered question. “The captain sealed the doors to the engineering section. So we ripped out the network connection and used the manual override.”
Murdock grunted. “Bet it made a lot of noise.”
“It did,” said Corbin. “Of course, we knew it would, so Mr. Nelson and a few of the techs laid an ambush. When four of Ducarti’s commandos showed up, we surprised them and relieved them of their lives and their weapons.”
“It was regulation-smooth,” said Nelson, which was probably the highest compliment he had for anything.
We headed into the engineering room. It was a big room, twice as large as the bridge, and stuffed with consoles and instrument tables. At the moment, all of the consoles and instrument tables showed the same SYSTEM LOCKED message I had seen in the computer room and the bridge. Nelson dispatched two of the techs to guard the doors back to the dorsal corridor. Both men had K7 rifles taken from dead commandos, and anyone trying to force their way into the engine room would meet a hail of gunfire.
“All right,” said Murdock. “I think you’ve got some questions to answer, Corbin.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Like junk DNA and secret agents.”
“First things first,” said Murdock, cutting me off, “Are you really going to blow up the ship, Rovio?”
“I hope not,” said Corbin. He reached into a pocket of his jacket and drew out a flat black box. “Nikolai. Recognize this?”
My head was still aching and it took a moment to get my brain into focus. “That is a… reinforced computer processor. Shielded against EMP pulses and radiation and stuff like that.” Some of the charts I had memorized for my certification tests swam up to the forefront of my thoughts. “There’s only a few of them on the ship. So that means…”
I blinked. Then I swallowed. Hard.
Murdock let out a few curses. Somehow, he never seemed to repeat himself.
“You took that out of the regulator on the hypermatter reactor,” I said, resisting the urge to send a nervous glance at the metal deck beneath my feet. “That means the reactor is destabilizing, right now!”
“It will explode,” said Corbin, tucking the processor back
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