William Forstchen - Article 23

"Let's go," Justin announced.

Crouching, he looked down the narrow ventilation tube set in the aft wall, its cover panel and filter unbolted and removed.

He took a deep breath and pushed his way in. Glad to be out of his anti-radiation gear and wearing just a light jumpsuit again, he squirmed into the narrow opening and pushed himself along. Stopping after five meters, he looked back in the darkness and felt a hand touch his bare foot.

"All right?" Justin whispered.

"Fine, keep moving," Tanya replied, " Hemenez is right behind me."

Justin squirmed along, counting the ventilation grills passing beneath him the first one leading to a storage room, the second, then the third. Reaching a barrier, he stopped. He put on a respirator filter, then pulled out the screwdriver and popped the mount off the filter blocking the way. As he pushed the filter aside a light plume of dust swirled up from the baffle and lead shielding. He wondered just how much of a dose he was picking up, glad that the emergency respirator he was wearing, which had been stored in the galley survival gear, would keep the worst of it out of his lungs.

Once clear of the filter shielding he knew they were in the back end of the ship, crawling under the reactor and engine mounts. The only barrier to the raging inferno of the sun was the outer hull surrounding the hydroponics unit, and within minutes he'd pick up a year's worth of radiation. The anti-radiation suits were far too bulky for the narrow ventilation shaft, but if they had simply gone aft through the doorway into the engine room it would have triggered an alarm up in the cockpit.

Finally he hit the fifth ventilation opening, as O'Brian had explained, and stopped. He looked down on the racks of tomato plants four meters below. He went to work on the screening beneath him with a bolt cutter, lopping off the tops of the screws that projected up through the ceiling and held the panel in place. The last of the bolts sheared off; he pushed down and felt the screen detach and float away. He doubled over and went through the opening, turning a somersault before landing on his feet.

Cautiously he looked around. No one was here, and he breathed a sigh of relief. When he had first proposed taking the ship to stop MacKenzie he had expected that maybe Leonov would go along he wasn't sure about Hemenez and O'Brian. But he needed them if there was any hope, for they knew the ins and outs of the ship and what had to be done beyond a vaguely formed plan to "do something to stop MacKenzie."

It was O'Brian who suggested timing it so closely, pointing out that everyone would be heading to the lounge area just prior to the seven o'clock muster and in those precious minutes there would be the chance to maybe pull it off. Between Hemenez and O'Brian the two had cooked up the plan of going aft through the ventilation shaft down into the hydroponics room and then forward again to the room where the prisoners were being held.

Justin realized with a cold certainty that the next ten minutes would decide it. Either he'd succeed, and then there would be a whole new crisis to deal with or, most likely, he would be dead, for a genuine mutiny would fully justify MacKenzie's actions and the Captain would simply add Justin and his friends to the trip through the airlock.

Leonov came through the opening, followed seconds later by Hemenez.

Hemenez looked around.

"Good, we're well aft, no one's here."

Justin wondered just how heavy a dose they were receiving dressed only in their light jumpsuits. The thought almost seemed absurd there was a good chance that in fifteen minutes the consequences of absorbing a rad or two of radiation would be moot.

Hemenez motioned them to go forward. Justin pushed off, floating down the length of the hydroponics chamber, weaving his way through the racks of sorghum which helped scrub the CO2 out of the air and the trays containing the spices, tomatoes and lettuce that O'Brian was cultivating.

Reaching the bulkhead door leading forward Hemenez stopped, putting her ear to the door, motioning for Justin and Tanya to be quiet.

"There are people in the corridor," she whispered. "Sounds like they're leading Matt out."

Justin struggled with the urge to simply burst through, waiting patiently as the seconds dragged out. The high temperature in die room made him break into a sweat although he felt cold and clammy with fear.

He looked over at Tanya, who was breathing in short, rapid gasps.

"Remember, we move quick," Hemenez announced.

With a flourish she pulled the kitchen knife out of her belt and cupped it in the palm of her hand, concealing the blade with the back of her arm. The gesture made Justin think of pirates about to storm the quarterdeck. He followed her actions, wondering if he could indeed use the blade on the guard who was surely waiting on the other side of the door.

Justin looked over at Tanya, who was holding a knife as well.

"Ready?"

She offered a nervous smile and gulped hard.

Hemenez grasped the door latch and slowly opened it, peeking out.

She motioned for the two to follow as she pulled the door wide open and started down the corridor. The hallway was darkened. Peeking over her shoulder, Justin saw a lone guard standing by the door into the prison cell, looking squat and distorted with the heavy battle gear donned over the anti-radiation suit. When they were less than three meters away, the guard turned.

"Halt, who goes there?"

Justin, startled by the voice, saw Colson in the shadows. In an instant he understood why the Captain would want his regular enlisted personnel in the lounge in case there was trouble. Also, he wanted Colson out of the way, and down below guarding jailed prisoners was one place he could safeguard him.

"I want to talk to you, Cadet," Hemenez said in a calm yet commanding voice. She drew closer.

"Halt! Halt or I'll shoot!"

"Cadet, I need to talk to you."

Hemenez pushed forward, arms extended in a friendly gesture. The knife blade was still concealed by the back of her arm. Horrified, Justin wondered if she was simply going to spring forward and slice Wendells throat. Somehow when he had dreamed up this plan he had envisioned it as being bloodless. They'd take a guard, break into the weapons locker and arm the other prisoners, then confront the Captain who would be led away in chains while everyone cheered. Now he realized that the mutiny of fantasy was vastly different than reality chances were that people were going to die in the next few minutes, die because of his actions.

"You're a traitor, too. I'll shoot!" Colson cried, his voice breaking.

"Come on, cadet, all I want"

Her words were cut short by the crackling burst of a laser pistol. Wordlessly Hemenez spun around, clutching her shoulder, smoke and the pungent stench of burnt flesh billowing around Justin.

Justin vaulted from the floor, diving over Hemenez. Colson, eyes wide, tried to back up and lost his hold on the floor, feet disconnecting. The gun went off again, the glare blinding Justin for an instant. He felt a stinging burn crease his side. Crashing into Colson, the two tumbled over. Colson tried to knee him in the groin, but the blow simply pushed Justin up towards the ceiling. Turning end-over-end he kicked off the ceiling and came down hard, feet first, slamming back into Colson.

Reaching out with his left hand he grabbed Colson by his helmet strap. He swung the knife around and brought the blade up to Colson's throat, then pressed it down far enough so the skin was taut. It was a strange sensation, the knowledge that with just the slightest flick of the wrist Colson's life would spill out. He thought of all that Colson had done, the madness he had helped to create, and the temptation was all but overpowering. And yet, then what? He eased back slightly.