Helium3 Box Set by Nick Travers


  Chapter 20

  ‘Come out, come out wherever you are,’ the Naga taunted. ‘Do you hear me, Runt, it’s only a matter of time before that door gives.’ Mervyn ignored the Naga’s goading and thought. He searched the engine room for inspiration. Besides the cooling marbles an assortment of other tools hung in the air. He grabbed a passing spanner, but nothing looked as if it would distract for long.

  ‘My Puncheon are eager, Runt -- they’ll shoot you down as soon as they see you,’ the Naga said reasonably. ‘Best you buzz down here and tell me who your sponsor is, and I’ll let you live.’

  That gave Mervyn an idea, ‘Your Puncheon? What happened to your humans?’ he reached into a pocket.

  ‘Unreliable -- ideas above their station. I’ll deal with them when I get back. Now come here!’

  Carefully, Mervyn extracted the contents of his pocket. Hardly daring to breathe, he opened his fist, and held the Skitterbug on the palm of his hand like a large jewel. The little mechanical insect looked around as if startled by the light.

  A superluminal Marble floated past-- now cooled to a dull red. Mervyn closed his fingers on the Skitterbug, took aim, and batted the marble with the spanner. It whizzed towards the chamber wall and rebounded with a thwack towards where he guessed the Naga was hiding. Then he steadied himself, concentrated on controlling every muscle, and gently released the Skitterbug.

  ‘Loren, whatever you’re doing stop it. Stay perfectly still.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Just do as I say.’

  ‘Blast!’ the Naga’s voice sounded from the other side of the generator.

  The bug perked up its head, scuttled to the end of Mervyn’s hand, and took flight. ‘That’s it, off you go,’ Mervyn thought. It buzzed off round the stardrive untroubled by the lack of gravity.

  ‘Think you’re smart, don’t you, Bright? Well it’ll take more than a hot marble to get you out of this one.’

  Any moment now, Mervyn thought.

  ‘What the... Arrgh!’ The Skitterbug had found its target. He just hoped it was the right target.

  ‘Loren, are you ok?’

  ‘Yes, but the Naga’s gone crazy. What’s happening?’ The door opened a crack then slammed again.

  ‘I’ll explain later. Just keep those Puncheon outside that door.’

  Now he moved. He dived towards the remaining locking stations; turn wheel, raise piston, turn, click, wind it down, snap home. One more lock to tackle. He could hear the Naga screaming somewhere above him. He glanced up and laughed.

  The blaster floated tantalising close to the Naga’s grasp, but every time he reached for it the Skitterbug attacked. The more the Naga struggled, the more determinedly the bug’s attacked. Taking care to move slowly, so as not to attract the Skitterbug’s attention, Mervyn reached the last locking station -- wheel, piston, turn, click, wind, lock.

  ‘Stardrive unlocked complete. Initiate immediate evacuation,’ intoned a mechanical voice, as unconcerned as if announcing the time of day. ‘Ten seconds to Stardrive ejection’ Mervyn glanced about to get his bearings.

  ‘Nine.’ He located the shattered grid behind which Loren still fought to secure the main door, though now a white-hot flame puncture the metal.

  ‘Eight seconds to Stardrive ejection.’ He grinned, nothing could beat Loren’s computer skills and her level five security, so the Puncheon had resorted to cutting their way in.

  ‘Seven.’ Mervyn launched himself towards the grid.

  ‘Six seconds to Stardrive ejection.’

  ‘Look out, Loren, I’m coming in!’

  ‘Stardrive ejection imminent. Blast door unlock in five seconds.’ Loren grabbed Mervyn and pulled him through the grid into the air duct.

  ‘Four.’

  ‘Mervyn, we need to tie these to each other’s jumpsuits -- the other end’s already secured to the ship.’ Loren handed him a bunch of fibre optic wires, their ends glowing where she had cut them out.

  ‘Three.’

  He grabbed the cables out of Loren’s hand and started threading them through one of the grab handles on of her jumpsuit.

  ‘Brace yourself!’ He jammed himself against the walls of the air duct and continued threading cables. Something knocked against his head. It was Loren’s abandoned multi-tool, several long thin blades projected in different directions. He knocked it away in annoyance and continued tying.

  Loren looked past him and screamed. Mervyn spun round and dropped the cables. The Naga’s head appeared at the grill, upside-down -- his dangling mane of hair now matted with blood. One eye looked horribly mutilated, the other burned with madness. He held the blaster in one hand and the struggling Skitterbug in the other: the Naga had them cornered.

  ‘Two.’

  ‘Tell me who you’re working for, Bright, or your friend dies right now,’ he levelled his blaster at Loren’s head. She ignored it and finished tying the cables to Mervyn’s jumpsuit.

  The Naga frowned as Mervyn too ignored him, grabbed the floating cables and continued tying them to Loren’s suit: one loop, cross over, another loop, and tuck the end under. He hoped the half-hitch would work -- it was the only knot he knew. The multi-tool bumped against his head again.

  ‘Did you hear me, Bright?’

  ‘One.’

  ‘I heard you, but it’s too late.’

  ‘Blast door unlock complete. Stardrive ejection in progress!’

  The Naga glanced around, as if hearing the countdown for the first time. The wild look in his eye dissolved into panic. He looked desperately from the blaster to the Skitterbug trying to decide which to drop.

  The warship shook as the Stardrive catapulted into space.

  The Naga decided which hand to free up and threw the Skitterbug into the air duct. Then he made a wild lunge for the grill. The Skitterbug obeyed its programming and attacked the most frantically moving object: the Naga’s hand. Desperately, the Naga threw away the blaster, fended off the Skitterbug, and grabbed the grill.

  Anything not fastened down followed the stardrive into the vacuum of space. The main doors chose this moment to cave inwards. The squad of Puncheon flew scrabbling into the chamber and disappeared out the blast doors before they knew what was happening.

  Mervyn unfroze as a hurricane of escaping air ripped past threatening to suck him along the duct. He jammed himself even harder against the walls.

  ‘My multi-tool,’ Loren yelled and stretched for the tool as it rocketed along the duct in a torrent of escaping air.

  ‘Loren, no!’

  Too late.

 
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