Icarus Page 16

  “Flight control, our thrusters are at station keeping. Request you open the outer doors.”

  “Roger, Commander. Doors are opening. Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Behind him, the large doors that sealed off the flight deck to outer space closed tightly. In front of him, the external door slid open, separating into four triangular-shaped parts, each folding themselves neatly into alcoves in the Rhea’s outer skin. Shawn could see the vast blanket of stars laid out before them, and all at once was eager to get going. Just below the bow of the Rhea, unseen at their current distance of two hundred miles, was the lifeless Icarus.

  Shawn did a half-turn to Melissa. “Tell them we are getting ready to depart.”

  She touched the intercom button once more. “Flight control officer, this is Sylvia’s Delight. We are preparing to—” Her words were caught in her throat as Shawn engaged the thrusters at nearly full power, rocketing the Mark-IV from the Rhea in a hail of blue fusion glow as if she were an angelic torpedo streaking out into the heavens.

  Chapter 9

  The remains of the Sector Command heavy cruiser Icarus loomed large in the forward view ports of Sylvia’s Delight. Below the Mark-IV, the small planet of Tamar spun lazily on its axis as inherent turbulent winds whipped across its ice-cold surface. Its gravity was only point-five of normal; at its warmest, it only achieved a temperature of thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit; it took over four standard years for Tamar to rotate around its distant G-type star; and it had a seventeen-hour day. Added to the fact that the thin, nearly unbreathable nitrogen-rich atmosphere made wearing pressure suits a necessity, it was one of the least desirable places Melissa had ever seen. She looked out the starboard window, down to the small barren world, and thought with a brief glimmer of terror what it would be like to be stranded there with no hope for survival. Is that where the crew of the Icarus was? Did they even have time to abandon the cruiser before it was nearly obliterated?

  “It’s a long way down,” Shawn said while looking at her wistfully.

  “Thinking of throwing me out?”

  Shawn smirked, then turned back to the forward view. “The day’s young.”

  Melissa sighed, turning her attention back to the slowly spinning hulk of the Icarus. Just as the sensor graphic had shown, there was an enormous hole in the rounded forward hull. The Icarus, like all other cruisers of her class, had a small launch bay and cargo hold at the forward end of her structure. Though it wasn’t nearly as cavernous as the hangar decks of the Rhea, the Icarus still had the ability to launch and recover a single squadron of small, one-man fighters. Used mostly for perimeter defense, the fighters would probably have been no match for whatever it was that had decimated the cruiser.

  As the Mark-IV came within two miles of the Icarus, Melissa and Shawn could clearly see that the entire bridge structure was gone, and with it, the ship’s communications array. As Shawn brought D within the last mile, he adjusted his attitude and roll controls to conform to the cruiser’s erratic orientation.

  “You’re going to take us into the launch bay?” Melissa asked skeptically.

  Shawn adjusted his dorsal thrusters as he lined up the nose of the Mark-IV with the large hole. “It would seem like our best bet. Besides, we didn’t just come here for kicks.”

  “It looks like it’s going to be tight.”

  “Well, like Dick said, we don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

  Although she chuckled at the reference, she’d hoped for a more respectful answer. “Must you call Captain Krif that?”

  Shawn nodded. “Yeah, I must. Now, if you don’t mind…”

  “Mind what?”

  Sylvia’s Delight slowed to nearly a crawl about two hundred feet from the gaping hole in the Icarus. “I’d like to concentrate on our penetration, so you’ll need to seal your vocal airlock for a few minutes.”

  She shook her head at the crude reference, but said nothing as the cruiser grew ever larger in the forward view ports. As their point of entry got closer, Melissa could begin to see details inside the Icarus’ launch bay. Although the larger features were still obscured, most of the internal structure seemed intact. The perimeter of the hole they were about to navigate was not at all what she’d expected. There should have been irregularities in the damaged hull plating, but instead she found herself staring a neatly cut opening. The wound to the Icarus appeared to have been cauterized, and expertly planned. The skin nearest the damage looked worn, but not pulverized, and she found herself wanting to reach beyond the windows of Sylvia’s Delight to lay a hand on the Icarus, as if petting a wounded and beloved friend.

  “What could have done this?” she asked in astonishment.

  It was at that moment that Sergeant Adams appeared on the command deck. He placed himself between the pilots’ seats at an unobtrusive distance and gazed with reverence at the destruction before him.

  Shawn was silent as he slowly guided the nose of his craft through the gaping cavity of the lifeless cruiser, decelerating the Mark-IV’s movements to a few inches per second. Firing short bursts from his forward thrusters, he slowed even more as the bulk of Sylvia’s Delight neared the outer edges of the opening. He watched as the external sensors bounced off the Icarus’ hull and relayed proximity data to him. The palms of his hands began to sweat as the starboard engine pod nearly came into contact with the cruiser’s hull, but with a quick burst from the starboard-aft thruster, Shawn was able to compensate in the nick of time. With the opening now almost entirely navigated, and the sensors relaying that he could continue on his current path unmolested, he reached up and flicked on the external landing and docking lights.

  The inside of the bay was eerily clear. There were no bodies, no cargo, and no fighters. While Shawn could have easily contributed this state to the explosive decompression of the compartment when the large hole was formed, there was something tugging at the edge of his mind that put him on instant alert. Taking a final look at his sensor data, he honed in on the strongest part of the deck and slowly set the Mark-IV down. The plating under his ship groaned in protest to the intrusion, but held fast under the minimal weight of the Hypervarion transport.

  “Some of the gravity emitters must still be on,” he said, then verified the readings with the ship’s computer.

  “That means that something in there is still generating power,” Adams chimed in from behind him.

  Melissa seemed startled by the man’s presence.

  “Exactly,” Shawn agreed with a nod, unfazed by the Marine’s stealthy presence.

  “Are the sensors telling you anything else?” Melissa asked. “What about life form readings?”

  “Whoa, hold on, sister.” He raised a hand to stem her stream of further questions. “One thing at a time. I still need to take some more readings to make sure this whole bay isn’t going to come crashing on down around us. Death has a tendency of ruining someone’s day.”

  Ten minutes later, and with the last of the sensor readings processed, Shawn was satisfied that they were safe for the moment. He then switched the sensor palette over to scan for life readings. Shawn watched in apprehension as the sensors swept out for nearly five hundred yards in a three-hundred-sixty-degree arc. After five full passes he dialed the sensors to their most sensitive level, and was rewarded with a single blip that appeared on the screen.

  “What is it?” Adams asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Shawn fed the results from the sensors into the ship’s main computer for analysis. “Whatever it is, it’s very weak.”

  “Is it…human?” Melissa asked.

  He shook his head. “I can’t say. Size and shape seemed to conform to bipedal standard, but there’s simply too much ion interaction for a more complete scan.”

  Melissa nodded. “So you’re saying we have to go and see for ourselves?”

  “We didn’t come all the way here just to play ding-dong ditch.”

  Melissa peered at him quizzically. “Ding-dong what?”

  S
hawn couldn’t help but smile. Of course, Melissa had probably never played the devious little childhood game herself. “I’ll tell you about it later. For now, I’ve secured the ship to the hold using the landing magnets. Would you care to go for a stroll with me?” Melissa smiled at him faintly, and Shawn didn’t need to be a psychic to sense the concern in her eyes. “The sensors say it’ll be fine, and I’ll be with you the whole time.”

  Agent Graves nodded. “Very well. Let’s get this over with.”

  Shawn unbuckled his safety harness, then gestured over his shoulder with a jerk of his head. “The environmental suits are in a locker in the central airlock.”

  On their way, Shawn stopped in the midship area and withdrew a small tool pouch from underneath the bench seat. As he and Melissa continued walking down the tight corridor, he opened the pouch and gave the contents an inspection. Satisfied that everything was there, he placed the bag on the floor of the airlock and withdrew the two environmental suits from a tall locker on the port side of the ship.

  Shawn handed Melissa a suit, allowing her a moment to give the garment a quick inspection. She sat on the deck and was getting ready to take off her boots when she noticed Shawn standing above her.

  “I wasn’t aware that it took two people to put on an EVO suit, Commander.”

  “Sorry?”

  “You’re leering again. I’m sure I can get dressed by myself.”

  He smiled mischievously and then removed his dark leather jacket, sat on a stool near the locker, and began to take off his own shoes. He looked over to Sergeant Adams, noting that the efficient Marine from the 92nd EU was almost finished getting his own suit on.

  Once the three had completed donning their environmental suits, Shawn gave Melissa a quick inspection to make sure all her life support fittings were tight. The thin material was sufficient enough to keep out the harmful vacuum of space, while still affording the wearer a maximum amount of movement. The semi-metallic fabric of the garment served a dual purpose, both for insulating the body and for negating any harmful radiation emissions that might try to penetrate its thin surface. The fully enclosed helmet had a two-hundred-seventy-degree field of view, more than enough for someone to perform any extravehicular activities.

  When he was satisfied that they were ready, Shawn sealed off the cargo hold from the mid-deck, then slowly decompressed the airlock. Melissa could feel the familiar weightlessness release her body from the confines of the Mark-IV’s artificial gravity, and she was silently thankful her magnetically lined boots kept her fast to the deck. Shawn handed her a flashlight, then withdrew his sidearm and placed it in the ready position.

  “Do you think that’ll be necessary, Commander?”

  “I don’t like surprises.”

  “I hear that,” Adams called out from behind the duo. Melissa turned in time to see the Marine charge up his pulse rifle, then place the weapon in standby mode.

  In the cargo hold, Shawn shuffled over to the hatch controls and pushed the release mechanism, letting the door fall slowly to the deck of the Icarus. He walked cautiously to the edge of the ramp, craning his neck from side to side as he visually inspected the empty hangar deck. Melissa walked up just as cautiously behind him, mimicking his movements as she too gave the hangar an inspection.

  “It’s a little creepy in here,” she began. “I’m not used to seeing a ship like this so…lifeless.”

  “Creepy is an understatement. Like I said before, just be careful and try not to touch anything.” All the Icarus’ fighters, as well as all the support vehicles and associated tools were eerily absent, probably sucked out into space months ago. The Icarus was like one of the hundreds of sleeping behemoths that could be found in a number of Sector Command reserve fleet basins. She was cold, lifeless without the crew who pumped through her passageways like blood to a living body.

  Melissa looked around at the destruction of the overhead and the emptiness of the space. “Are you afraid I’m going to break something?”

  “I’m afraid whoever did this might not be done and will decide to come back for seconds. I don’t want anyone to know we were here if we can avoid it.”

  Turning on the computer embedded in the left gauntlet of his EVO suit, Shawn brought up a map of the cruiser’s hangar bay. A three-dimensional map of their current surroundings projected itself three inches from the surface of the computer. Finding what he was looking for, he aimed his flashlight beyond Melissa to a series of stairs leading up to an open hatch some thirty feet above their current position. Melissa’s own beam soon converged with his. “The cruiser’s layout shows that this passageway is the main connecting corridor for the ship. It should give us access to anywhere we need to go,” he said as she stepped close to his side.

  “The life-form reading was from deck seven.”

  “That’s two decks above us.” He started for the stairs and gave Melissa a wave to follow him. “We have to get about fifty yards down that corridor, and then we should reach a ladder well that will take us up there. Sergeant Adams, watch our six,” Shawn ordered, referring to the unprotected rear of their formation.

  “Yes, sir.” Adams fell in behind the two, occasionally scanning his weapon around the compartment.

  As they met at the top of the stairs, both Shawn and Melissa shined their lights down the long, dark hallway. There were bits of debris and flotsam floating just beyond the hatch. Shawn noticed an empty soda can silently orbiting a wadded-up piece of paper, and a half-eaten sandwich frozen to its core.

  “Someone opened this door after this section of the corridor lost internal pressure.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because if they opened it before that happened, then everything in here would have been sucked out into space.”

  Melissa watched the sandwich eerily float past her and out into the hangar bay. “If that’s true, then where are all the bodies?”

  Shawn continued to wave his flashlight around the unlit corridor. He silently cursed the device for not allowing him to see more than ten feet ahead of them. “I’m not sure, but I know that most of them should still be here. Nearly all the lifepods are still attached.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a comforting thought right now.”

  “All things considered, I agree. Come on. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and these suits are only rated for three hours of use.”

  They began to move slowly down the passageway, stopping to shine their lights in the occasional open hatch or doorway. Though each room had a different layout, they were all victims of the same outcome: instantaneous loss of internal pressure and atmosphere before their respective outer doors had been opened.

  “Could it have been a life support malfunction?” Melissa asked tentatively.

  Shawn nodded, although it was impossible for her to see him do so under his helmet. “I’ve seen that before. Although I wouldn’t rule it out, it doesn’t explain the battle damage to the hull.”

  “The Icarus sure is a mess, sir,” Adams offered sadly. “I’ve never seen anything like this, and I’ve seen some pretty far-out stuff.”

  Melissa groaned in approval. “Perhaps it was pirates?”

  Shawn pivoted quickly to face her. He hated pirates for more reasons than he could count, and loathed the idea of running into a particularly vicious group of them out here, even with the Rhea hovering nearby. “What makes you say that?”

  “What if, after something happened to the life support systems, the pirates cut a hole in the ship and began plundering the contents?”

  He had to agree that her assessment had a certain logic to it. He’d even seen something similar firsthand, albeit on a much smaller scale. “That would jive with some of the established facts. But, again, where are the bodies? Pirates aren’t known for having a high regard for the dead, so I doubt they would have disposed of them.” He shined his light around until it came to rest on Melissa. “Unless, of course, they ate the bodies.”

  She shook her head in di
sappointment. “Space cannibals are a myth. It’s never been proven they actually exist. Besides, this place is creepy enough without you having to add to it.”

  “A myth? I’ll have you know I once saw—”

  “Enough, okay?” Her tone was resolute. “Let’s just get on with the mission. We’ll know more when we get to auxiliary control.”

  “I thought we were going to investigate the life-form reading.”

  “We are, but getting to the secondary command center is a primary concern. It should have a record of everything that happened to this ship on recordable media. We can take it back to the Rhea once we’re done here, but I can’t leave without it. Understood?”

  Shawn nodded slowly. “I understand, don’t worry. But I’d feel better if we checked out that life-form reading and were done with it. This situation is far too spooky for my liking.”

  They came to the ladder well that Shawn had found on the ship diagram, then proceeded up the four flights of stairs that would lead them to deck seven. At the top of the stairs was a large bisected door with the number “7” painted on the left-hand side. The spotlight from Adams’ rifle-mounted light caught tantalizing glances at cables dangling from the corridor’s overhead, and empty, half-opened crates littering the floor. Melissa’s foot caught on a cable as thick as a python, but she righted herself before she had a chance to hit the unforgiving deck.

  “How do we know if it’s sealed or not? There could be atmosphere in there.”

  Shawn looked to the side of the door for the compartment containment light. Normally, this light would be in a constant state of safety, indicated by a single green light in the center of the pad. Below it was a red light, indicating that the compartment was either dangerous or uninhabitable. However, with the loss of power all over the ship, neither of the lights was working. After being adrift for so long, even the emergency batteries in the Icarus must have been completely drained.