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Authors: John Scalzi

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General

Redshirts (26 page)

BOOK: Redshirts
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“We’re taking the engines to maximum capacity to the black hole we’re using,” Dahl said. “It will be within the day. I suppose you’ll know when your son starts acting like your son again.”

“If it works,” Paulson said.

“If it works,” Dahl agreed. “Let’s work on the assumption it will.”

“Yes, let’s,” Hester said.

“Now,” Dahl said, to Paulson. “We’re agreed on everything.”

“Yes,” Paulson said. “None of your characters will be killed off going forward. The show will stop randomly killing off extras. And the show itself will wrap up next season and we won’t make any new shows in the universe within a hundred years of your timeline.”

“And this episode?” Dahl said. “The one where everything we planned happens.”

“Nick messaged me about it just a few minutes ago,” Paulson said. “He says he’s almost got a rough version done. As soon as it’s done he and I will work on a polish, and then we’ll get it into production as soon as … well, as soon as we know whether or not your plan worked.”

“It’ll work,” Dahl said.

“It’s going to make hell with our production schedule,” Paulson said. “I’m going to end up having to pay for this episode out of my own pocket.”

“It’ll be worth it,” Dahl said.

“I know,” Paulson said. “If everything works, it’ll be a hell of a show for you.”

“Of course,” Dahl said. Hester rolled his eyes a little.

“I hear helicopters,” Hanson said. From the shuttle came the sound of engines primed to move. Dahl looked at Hester.

“Good luck,” Hester said.

“See you soon,” Dahl said, and made his way to the shuttle.

They were gone before the helicopters could get to them.

*   *   *

 

“It’s time,” Kerensky said, as they approached the black hole. “Everyone get ready for the transition. Dahl, come take the co-pilot seat.”

“I can’t fly a shuttle,” Dahl said.

“I don’t need you to fly it,” Kerensky said. “I need you to hit the automatic homing and landing sequence in case that asshole writer has something explode and knock me out.”

Dahl got up and looked over to Duvall. “Hester doing okay?” he asked.

“He’s fine, everything’s fine,” Duvall said. “He’s not Hester yet, though.”

“Call him Hester anyway,” Dahl said. “Maybe it’ll matter.”

“You’re the boss,” Duvall said.

Dahl sat down in the co-pilot seat. “You remember how to do this,” he said to Kerensky.

“Aim for the gap between the accretion disk and the Schwartzchild radius and boost engines to one hundred ten percent,” Kerensky said, testily. “I’ve got it. Although it might have been helpful for me to observe the last time we did it. But no, you had me in a crate. Without my pants.”

“Sorry about that,” Dahl said.

“Not that it matters anyway,” Kerensky said. “I’m your good-luck charm, remember? We’ll make it through this part just fine.”

“Hopefully the rest of it, too,” Dahl said.

“If this plan of yours works,” Kerensky said. “How will we know that it’s worked?”

“When we revive Hester, and he’s Hester,” Dahl said.

A sensor beeped. “Transition in ten seconds,” Kerensky said. “So we won’t know until we’re back on the
Intrepid
.”

“Probably,” Dahl said.

“Probably?” Kerensky said.

“I thought of one way we might know if the transfer didn’t take,” Dahl said.

“How?” Kerensky asked.

The shuttle jammed itself into the ragged edge between the accretion disk and the Schwartzchild radius and transitioned instantly.

In the view screen the planet Forshan loomed large, and above it a dozen ships, including the
Intrepid,
were locked in battle.

Every single sensor on the shuttle flashed to red and began to blare.

One of the nearby starships sparkled, sending a clutch of missiles toward the shuttle.

“When we come through, it might look like
this,
” Dahl said.

Kerensky screamed, and Dahl then felt ill as Kerensky plunged the shuttle into evasive maneuvers.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

“Five missiles coming,” Dahl said, fighting the sickness in his stomach from the shuttle’s dive to read the co-pilot’s panel.

“I know,” Kerensky said.

“Engines minimal,” Dahl said. “We burned them coming through.”

“I
know,
” Kerensky said.

“Defense options?” Dahl asked.

“It’s a
shuttle,
” Kerensky said. “I’m doing them.” He corkscrewed the shuttle violently. The missiles changed course to follow, spreading out from their original configuration.

A message popped up on Dahl’s screen. “Three missiles locked,” he said. “Impact in six seconds.”

Kerensky looked up, as if toward the heavens. “Goddamn it, I’m a
featured character
! Do something!”

A beam of light lanced from the
Intrepid,
vaporizing the nearest missile. Kerensky yanked the shuttle over to avoid the explosion and debris. The
Intrepid
’s pulse beam touched the four other missiles, turning them into atoms.

“Holy shit, that
worked,
” Kerensky said.

“If only you knew before, right?” Dahl said, amazed himself.

The shuttle’s phone activated. “Kerensky, come in,” it said. It was Abernathy on the other end.

“Kerensky here,” he said.

“Not a lot of time here,” Abernathy said. “Do you have the carrier?”

The carrier?
Dahl thought—and then remembered that Hester carried in his body invasive cells whose DNA was a coded message detailing the final will and testament of the leader of the Forshan’s rightward schism—which if unlocked could end the religious wars on Forshan—which would not be convenient to any number of leaders on either side of the conflict—which was why all those ships were out there: to bring the shuttle down.

Then Dahl remembered that until that very second, absolutely none of that was true.

But it was now.

“We have the carrier,” Kerensky said. “Crewman Hester. Yes. But he’s awfully sick, Captain. We’re barely keeping him alive.”

A panel on Dahl’s co-pilot screen flashed. “Three new missiles away!” he said to Kerensky, who spun the shuttle into new evasive maneuvers.

“Kerensky, this is Chief Medical Officer Hartnell,” a new voice said. “Crewman Hester’s immune system is fighting those cells and losing. If you don’t get him to the ship now, they’re going to kill him, and then the cells will die too.”

“We’re being fired on,” Kerensky said. “It makes travel difficult.”

A new pulse beam flickered out of the
Intrepid,
vaporizing the three new missiles.

“You worry about getting to the
Intrepid,
Kerensky,” Abernathy said. “We’ll worry about the missiles. Abernathy out.”

“‘The carrier’?” Duvall said, from the back of the shuttle. “He’s got cells in his body with an encoded message in his DNA? That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Nick Weinstein had to write the episode really quickly,” Dahl said. “Cut him a break.”

“He also wrote
this
?” Kerensky said, motioning out the view screens to the space battle in front of them. “If I ever see him again I’m going to kick his ass.”

“Focus,” Dahl said. “We need to get to the
Intrepid
without dying.”

“Do you think Paulson’s son is in Hester’s old body?” Kerensky said.

“What?” Dahl said.

“Do you think the switch worked?” Kerensky asked, glancing at Dahl.

Dahl looked back at the body on the stretcher. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe?”

“‘Maybe’ works for me,” Kerensky said, stopped the shuttle’s evasive maneuvers and jammed it as fast as it would go, straight toward the
Intrepid
. All around them Forshan spacecraft fired missiles, beams and projectiles. The
Intrepid
lit up like a Christmas tree, firing all available weapons to shoot down missiles and disable beams and projectile weapons on the Forshan spacecraft.

“This is a bad idea,” Dahl said to Kerensky, who was grimly staring forward, keeping the
Intrepid
squarely in his sights.

“We’re going to live or die,” Kerensky said. “Why fuck around?”

“I liked you better before you were a fatalist,” Dahl said.

A missile erupted starboard, knocking the shuttle off its course. The shuttle’s inertial dampeners flickered, hurling Hester, Duvall and Hanson around the rear of the shuttle.

“Don’t fly into missiles!” Duvall shouted.

“Blame the writer!” Kerensky shot back.

“That’s a shitty excuse!” Duvall said. The shuttle rocked again as another missile scored a near miss.

The shuttle ran through the gauntlet of ships, breaking through toward the
Intrepid
.

“The shuttle bay is aft,” Dahl said. “We’re not aimed at aft.”

“Here’s where we find out just how hot a shuttle pilot that writer thinks I am,” Kerensky said, and threw the shuttle into a reverse Fibonacci spiral, over the top of the
Intrepid
. Dahl groaned as the
Intrepid
wheeled and grew in the view screen. Missiles vibrated the shuttle as they zoomed by, narrowly missing the arcing shuttle. Dahl was certain they were going to smash against the
Intrepid
’s hull, and then they were in the shuttle bay, slamming into the deck. The shuttle screeched violently and something fell off of it outside.

Kerensky whooped and shut down the engines. “
That’s
good television,” he said.

“I’m never flying with you again,” Duvall said, from the back of the shuttle.

“There’s no time to waste,” Kerensky said, changing his demeanor so suddenly that Dahl had no doubt he’d just been gripped by the Narrative. “We’ve got to get Hester to sick bay. Dahl, you’re with me on the left side of the stretcher. Duvall, Hanson, take the right. Let’s run, people.”

Dahl unbuckled and scrambled over to the stretcher, unexpectedly giddy. Kerensky had used Hester’s name while under the influence of the Narrative.

As they raced through the corridors with the stretcher, they heard the booms and thumps of the
Intrepid
under attack.

“Now that we’re on board, all those ships are attacking the
Intrepid,
” Kerensky said. “We need to hurry.” The ship shook again, more severely.

“Took you long enough,” Medical Officer Hartnell said, as the four of them wheeled the stretcher into sick bay. “Any longer and there wouldn’t be a sick bay left. Or any other part of the ship.”

“Can’t we bug out?” Dahl heard himself say, as they maneuvered the stretcher.

“Engines have been disabled in the attack,” Hartnell said. “Nowhere to run. If we don’t get this message out of him fast, we’re all dead. Lift!” They lifted Hester’s body and put it onto a medical table. Hartnell flicked at his tablet and Hester’s body stiffened.

“There, he’s in stasis,” Hartnell said. “He’ll be stable until all of this is done.” He looked at his medical tablet and frowned. “What the hell are all these fractures and brain trauma?” he said.

“It was a rough shuttle ride,” Kerensky said.

Hartnell looked at Kerensky as if he were going to say something, but then the entire ship lurched, throwing everyone but Hester to the deck.

“Oh, that’s not good,” Duvall said.

Hartnell’s phone activated. “This is the captain,” Abernathy said through the phone. “What’s the status of the carrier?”

“Crewman Hester’s alive and in stasis,” Hartnell said. “I’m about to take a sample of the invasive cells to start the decoding process.”

There was another violent shudder to the ship. “You’re going to need to work faster than that,” Abernathy said. “We’re taking hits we can’t keep taking. We need that decoded now.”

“Now isn’t going to work,” Hartnell said. “How much time can you give me?”

Another shudder, and the lights flickered. “I can give you ten minutes,” Abernathy said. “Try not to use them all.” The captain disconnected.

Hartnell looked at them all. “We’re fucked,” he said.

Dahl couldn’t help smiling crazily at that.
Pretty sure he wasn’t in the Narrative when he said that,
he thought.

“Andy,” Hanson said. “The Box.”

“Shit,” Dahl said. “The Box.”

“What’s a Box?” Hartnell said.

“Take a sample and give it to me,” Dahl said to Hartnell.

“Why?” Hartnell asked.

“I’ll take it to Xenobiology and run it there,” Dahl said.

BOOK: Redshirts
8.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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