Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing (25 page)

Luja shook his head.
 
“No! I’m detecting a power signature inside the field!”

Zunova studied the sensor readouts being routed to her station.
 
She felt the icy hand of fear grip her spine.
 
“Ripper!”

“Evasive!” roared Fe.

But it was too late.

* * * * *

The ripper was a mine, designed by Dilatan military scientists to overwhelm the defenses of Junian Guard vessels.
 
An electro-kinetic bomb triggered by proximity, the ripper would generate a massive burst of electromagnetic energy.
 
Capable of overloading the defensive shields of Guard vessels, it left them vulnerable to the kinetic blast from the ripper’s exploding impeller core.

The
Harmonious Maiden
was almost touching the ripper when the mine detonated. Defensive emitters burned out and the forward batteries, dorsal and ventral, exploded.
 
The ripper’s kinetic payload had already ripped through the outer hull of the
Maiden
.
 
The command was obliterated, the guardsmen stationed there killed instantly.
 
The secondary explosions, from the forward dorsal and ventral batteries, cracked the ship’s hull like an eggshell.
 
First and third decks, forward of the ship’s core, were compromised beyond recovery.
 
Any crewmembers who survived the initial explosions were killed by explosive decompression.

The
c
ore itself, site of the shunt drive and the ship’s power generators, was partially compromised. Forward bulkheads buckled.
 
Power conduits were severed.
 
The shunt containment field collapsed, and the shunt itself, a brick of exotic otherspace material, vanished in a burst of toxic radiation.
 
Instantly, the core became a hot zone.
 
The guardsman stationed there who had survived the initial disaster, were killed by the radiation burst.
 
Fortunately, the heavily shielded core contained most of the radiation.
 

The aft sections of the
Harmonious Maiden
fared better.
 
The aft weapons batteries had not exploded, and although first and third decks were compromised in some sections, there were still some survivors.
 
The aft sections of the second deck remained largely uncompromised.
 
Crew quarters and recreation halls survived, most of their occupants finding themselves suddenly trapped in free-fall conditions.

* * * * *

 
John woke, disoriented, floating in the dark.
 
For a moment, he thought he was back on the
Thunderbolt
, waking to one of First Officer Emiz’s unscheduled disaster drills.
 
He groaned and felt his head throb.
 
Gingerly, he wiggled his fingers and toes, but besides the ache in his head, he felt all right.

As he assessed himself, he became more aware of his surroundings.
 
People were weeping.
 
He blinked into the darkness.

“What happened?”

“John? Is that you?”

He recognized Pimuqi’s voice.
 
“Yes.”

“Merciful pantheon!
 
I thought you were dead!”

Carefully, John oriented himself toward Pimuqi’s voice.
 
“What happened, Pim?”

“I don’t know,” said the young woman.
 
She sounded on the edge of hysteria.
 
“It felt like something exploded and then everything was dark and. . . .”

She broke down into muted sobbing.

“It’s okay, Pim,” said John.
 
“Where are you?
 
And where are the emergency lights?”

Her weeping grew louder.
 
Shutting his eyes, he carefully kicked toward her voice, his arms extended before him.

“Pim, where’s Jesot?”

She didn’t answer and John felt a sudden surge of anger.
 
“Pimuqi Ese, where is Jesot?”

“I don’t know!” shouted the woman.

He was closer to her than he had expected.
 
His fingers touched a warm body.
 
Hands were gripping his.
 

“John! John, is that you?”

“It’s me,” said John.
 
They drifted together, in the dark.
 
Pim wrapped herself around him.
 
She was shaking.
 

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.”
 
Her voice was small.
 
She had her fingers dug into the tight weave of his shipsuit.
 

“All right.
 
I’ve got you.
 
Stay close.
 
Okay?”

“Okay.”

He raised his voice.
 
“Who else is here?”

There was still someone weeping nearby.
 
John remembered the devotees and struggled for their names.
 
“Oja?
 
Efi?”

“We’re here!”
 

“Oja? Is that you?”

“Yes! Yes!
 
Sweet, merciful gods! Yes, I’m here!”

“Is anyone with you?”

“I’m here,” said a soft voice.
 

“Efi?” Oja called to her sister. “Efi, where are you?”

“Here.”
 
Efi spoke louder.
 
“I . . . I don’t feel well.”

“It’s probably just gravity sickness,” said John.
 
“Keep talking, girls.”

“Why is it so dark?” asked Oja.

“I don’t know,” said John.
 
“I just woke up.”

“Gods,” whispered Pim.
 
“I wish I could see!”

“Oh!” John hesitated.
 
“Hang on a second!”
 
 

He reached for his PIN, found it still stuck to his hip.
 
Grabbing it, he found the power switch and touched it.
 
Instantly, the small screen lit.
 
In its wan light, John could see Pimuqi, still wrapped around him.
 
Her eyes looked enormous.
 

“Light!” shouted Oja.
 
“Sweet pantheon!
 
Don’t turn it off!
 
Please!”

A moment later, she barreled into them.
 
 
Pim and John grabbed her, John automatically trying to compensate for her inertia.

“Oh gods! Sweet gods!”
 
Oja started crying.
 
She grabbed at their hands, their arms.
 
“I thought I was going to die alone, in the dark!”

“We’re not going to die,” said John. “Efi? Where are you?”

“Here.”

She was beneath them, moving carefully toward the lit PIN.
 
Oja extended a hand, grasped her sister’s arm and hauled her into an embrace that threatened to send all four of them spinning into the bulkheads.

“Okay! Okay!” shouted Epcott.
 
“No more sudden movements!
 
The last thing we need is to go smashing into bulkheads and someone breaking a bone on top of everything else!”

They huddled around the PIN, the light from the screen illuminating scared, pale faces.
 
 

“Where are the others?” asked John.
 
“Does anyone know?”

The twins shook their heads, eyes wide.
 
Pimuqi frowned, gnawed her lip.
 
“Maybe they’re hurt.
 
Or still unconscious, like you, John.”

“If that’s the case, we need to find them,” said John.
 
“We need light.”

“And gravity,” said Efi.
 
“Please.”

“If the gravity generators have failed, that means main power is down,” said Pimuqi.
 
She was calmer now, but her hold on John’s arm did not relax.

John nodded.
 
“There’s nothing we can do about the gravity, but we ought to be able to get some lights going.”

“The emergency illuminators should have activated when we lost main power,” said Pimuqi.
 

“It’s probably just a loose connection,” said John.
 
“Let’s find the emergency supplies.
 
There are pressure-torches in them.”

He didn’t wait for them to agree, just fiddled with his PIN’s settings, until the screen was a blaze of white light.
 
Using his improvised torch, he swept the area around them.
 
Pim spotted one of the emergency supply kits, and the quartet swam toward it.

While Pimuqi held the PIN, John opened the kit.
 
The minute its seals were broken, nanotech filaments woven throughout the kit began to glow, transforming it into a miniature beacon.
 
John handed out pressure-torches, shut off his PIN.

In the golden light of the pressure-torches, the quartet surveyed the crew hall.
 
The furnishings remained fixed to the floor, thanks to adhesives on their bases.
 
Across the hall, John spotted Jesot.

He and Pim swam toward her, leaving the sisters with the emergency kit.
 
As they drew near Jesot, John felt a cold finger of dread dance down his back.
 
Pim’s sharp intake of breath told John that she had already seen.

Jesot floated against the wall, bloodshot eyes staring into nothing.
 

“What happened?” asked Pim.

John touched Jesot’s eyes, closing the lids.
 
“I don’t know.
 
Maybe she hit her head when the gravity failed.”

“What do we do with her?”

“We’ll put her in one of the storage rooms,” said John.
 
“She’ll be out of the way there.”

After they had put Jesot’s corpse away, they searched the rest of the hall.
 
They found their third crewmate, Tul Noj, trapped in a wastechamber.
 
The door was stuck.

“Get me out!” shouted Tul.

“Give us a minute!” Pim shouted through the door.

“There’s shit floating around in here!” Tul informed them, sounding more disgusted than frightened.
 
“Hurry up!”

Pimuqi started to giggle.
 
John gave her a worried look, but the young woman shook her head.
 
The act sent her short red hair waving around her head.
 
“I’m fine,” she said.
 
“Just, you know, this situation. . .”

“We’ll laugh ourselves silly about it later,” promised John.
 
“But right now, let’s get Tul out of there.”

It took them a little while, but they finally managed to wrestle the door open.
 
Tul emerged from the wastechamber, stinking and angry.

“It’s about time!” shouted the man.
 
“What in the lonely Wastes have you two been doing out here?
 
Why aren’t the illuminators working?
 
And the gravity?”

“Jesot’s dead,” said John.

Tul’s face blanched.
 
“What?”

“And I doubt she’s the only one,” continued John.

“What do we do?” asked Tul.

He and Pim both turned to John.

“We get the lights on and we try to find out what’s happened.”

“Comms must be down,” said Tul.
 
“I tried getting hold of someone when I was trapped.”
 
He looked at them, with a hopeful expression.
 
“Maybe it’s just mine?”