Event Horizon (Hellgate) (88 page)

“Put it in the tank,” Vaurien said softly.

A schematic of the whole habitation module replaced the graphical display of the Drift, and Lai’a overlaid local feeds from every place where force, tension, shear, torque, temperature and rad nodes were embedded. Frowning deeply, Vaurien digested the numbers and gave Travers a wry glance.

“Maybe we were lucky,” Jazinsky said tersely.

“I don’t like being lucky.” Vaurien’s arms folded on the chest of the rumpled blue denim shirt, and he sighed. “But I guess I’ll take good luck over bad.”

The Sherratts had been taking to pieces the navigation feed, and they seemed satisfied that Lai’a was where it thought it was, and the driftway was stable. Mark straightened from their workstations and pushed his hands into the deep pockets of a burgundy robe he had thrown on over long bare limbs. He and Vaurien shared oddly similar frowns, and Mark said quietly,

“We just learned something extremely valuable.”

“Lai’a is not invulnerable.” Vaurien’s voice was low, steely.

But Mark’s tousled head shook. “The structural failure didn’t involve Lai’a. It was the Zunshulite armor shielding the habitation module that warped, and it punched in a very small section of the hull.” His shoulders lifted in an expressive shrug. “Think back to the beginning of this scheme, Richard. The mission was originally not intended to involve a live crew. Lai’a was to fly it … but of course this was never really possible. How could we expect a positive result if we built the most formidable war machine in your history or ours and launched it to annihilate an enemy – even the Zunshu – without benefit of a living intelligence? No perspective of the live intellect, no real capacity for intuition.” He sighed. “Lai’a is a biosynthetic creature of extraordinary complexity, but when your whole species is negotiating for its very survival, could you assign a machine as your advocate?”

“No,” Richard admitted. “The
hab
module was tacked on as an afterthought, and it’s the weak link, isn’t it? If Lai’a has any Achilles’ heel, this is it.”

“
We
are certainly the expedition’s vulnerable spot,” Mark allowed, “and it’s unavoidable. Lai’a, would you care to comment?”

“What would you have me add, Doctor?” the AI said with its unwavering patience. “There is always a possibility that gravity tides around the periphery of an event might spike unusually high. They did, when the event closed sooner than was possible to forecast with data gathered from normal space. The Arago generators protecting the habitation module are powerful, but not limitless. I overran them to shield you. The breach was minimal and the inner hull was sealed in 1.27 minutes, which is the minimum time required to cryo-cool and restart the scrammed Arago projector, routing power from Number 3 generator. Armordoors sealed across the ventral deck to safeguard the remainder of the ship. These are the emergency protocols and they were perfectly executed.”

“And if Bravo hadn’t opened up the Capricorn to use its facilities while they were playing folgen, we’d have six dead right now, including our CMO,” Marin added with all due cynicism.

“Recommendation,” Lai’a suggested. “Crew should be armored during transit.”

“Oh, shitshit
shit
,” Tor groaned, “I bloody hate the armor. I’d rather be in the frigging drone locker with a rebreather mask!”

“Tor, hush now,” Dario shushed.

“Hey, it’s just belt and suspenders, kiddo,” Leon said coaxingly. “I’ll give you a hundred to one, Tor – so long as we’re in armor, we’ll never pop another rivet. Lightning does strike twice, but not so fast, and never when we’re watching out for it.”

He made a good point, but the old master sergeant was alive in Travers now. As he joined Marin, Vaurien, Vidal and Mark by the navtank he deliberately clicked out of the loop and dropped his voice to a whisper. Richard’s face was set into granite hard lines, as if he knew what Neil was about to say.

“We’re heading to war,” Travers murmured. “We can expect the Zunshu to throw everything they have at us. And we’re … vulnerable. We just found out
how
vulnerable.” He looked from face to face.

“We shipped out with an even-money chance of making it home,” Vidal said in the same level tone. “You thought they couldn’t touch us? Like we were indestructible?”

“No,” Travers admitted. “But the one thing I wasn’t calculating on was having holes punched in us halfway through a gate event.”

“There’s an old saying,” Vaurien said acidly. “Forewarned is forearmed.” His brows rose, creasing his forehead. “So we take no risks. We know where and how we’re vulnerable. We’re in the hardsuits … we blow the hull down to zero pressure before we go anywhere near anything remotely resembling an encounter with Zunshu. Knowing where we’re at our weakest gives us one more advantage, doesn’t it?”

“Pragmatist,” Vidal accused.

“Cynic,” Vaurien corrected. “How do you think I’ve stayed alive this long?” And then, “Lai’a, give me a repair update.”

“Reassessment of damage and resources indicates, nine hours,” Lai’a responded. “Repairs will be adequate for transspace navigation,
not
for gate transit.”

Ice water seemed to trickle down Travers’s spine and Vaurien took a sharp breath. It was Mark who said, “I assume more structural work will be necessary before you can safely transit a storm on the Zunshu Drift.” Not a question.

“Correct.” Lai’a paused. “Work will continue en route. Number 2 generator remains unstable; reconfiguration will require handling drones. Three Arago units are burned out, shut down pending replacement modules. Priority will be given to these Aragos, immediately the Zunshulite armor is replaced. Recommend delaying entry to Zunshu space until all three generators are optimal. Navigators may be interested to know, the Zunshu Gate is intermittently visible at this time.”

“Already?” Jazinsky was astonished, and Travers heard an uneasy note in her voice. “How far, Lai’a?”

“Precision is difficult,” Lai’a warned, “due to flux in the structure of transspace. I estimate the Zunshu Gate will be attainable in approximately 140 hours.”

“And you can see it from here?” Vidal was breathless. “You have nav data, Lai’a? Can you feed it to the simulator? I want to fly that sky. Soon – long before we get there.”

“Navigation data is available,” Lai’a told him, “but sporadic. If you access it prematurely, variables will render it of limited value. Allow three days en route for data to resolve. I will notify you when variables have been minimized.”

“All right.” Vidal dragged both hands over his face and gave Travers a haggard look. “Six days.”

“Long enough to effect reliable repairs?” Vaurien asked.

“More than sufficient.” Lai’a paused. “I regret the inconvenience to Resalq and humans. I could do no more to protect the habitation module. The gravity spike could not be predicted from normal space. Fresh data allows me to estimate the risk factor of this event recurring to be five percent.”

“We can expect to take a hammering on maybe transit in twenty.” Vaurien looked across at the Resalq. “Sorry, Tor. You’ll be in armor during transit along with the rest of us. You need a hand with it?”

“He has more help than he needs,” Leon said archly.

“I always helping, am able to do,” Midani offered.

Tor might have been sullen but, given a calculable risk factor that was not insignificant, he saw the sense of armouring for any transit. “I’ll live,” he muttered, and seemed to be waiting for Dario to remonstrate, perhaps for the perverse fun of bickering.

But Grant’s voice cut him off, calling over the loop. “Richard, you better come down to the Infirmary.”

“Tonio?” Vaurien shot a look sidelong at Travers.

“Yeah. It’s … look, just come on down,” Grant said in a taut voice.

“Barb, you want to mind the store?” Vaurien was already moving. “You need me, yell.”

“You might as well come in too, Mick,” Grant added tiredly. “You’re due for your shots in a half hour anyway. Let’s just get to ’em now.”

“You mind if we tag along?” Travers asked. He was a pace behind Vaurien as they left Ops, with Marin and Vidal right behind him.

“You mean, if Tonio’s going to check out, do I want to bawl my eyes out in decent privacy?” In fact, Vaurien looked more angry than distressed. “He lost me a long time ago, Neil – not that I’d want to see any harm come to him. I guess I remember who he used to be. Christ – I don’t know. Come on.”

In a hull the size of a cruiser, nothing was far from anywhere. They were in the Infirmary moments later, a bright, warm, familiar compartment little different from Eileen Drury’s facility on the
Mercury
. Only one bed was occupied of the rank of four on standby along the wall adjacent to the armordoors. Tonio Teniko was sitting up, clad in a pale green gown, with a rose-pink rash of ‘vacuum bloom’ along his arms and neck and a furious look on the odd, misshapen face.

If Travers had been expecting the man to be a few moments short of death, he knew he was wrong. Teniko was unhurt, save for a lot of broken capillaries which therapy would heal overnight. Vaurien came to rest by the bed, fists on hips, glaring first at him and then at Grant.

“He deserves,” Grant said nastily, “to be the first human buried in transspace. He ought to be dead. If Lai’a hadn’t spotted him in the drone locker, he might have been – he could have breathed out the air before anybody bothered to open it up. And he’d never have known what happened. You want to tell him, Teniko, or shall I?”

“Go to hell,” Teniko growled.

“Maybe I will,” Grant said blithely, “but if I do, you’ll be there ahead of me, flayed alive and doing service as the doormat where newbies wipe their boots!” He turned his back on Teniko and looked up at Vaurien, anger bright in his eyes. “He was high as a kite when it happened.”

“Ibrepal?” Vaurien wondered. “Takes a major dose to get that high.”

“Gryphon,” Grant corrected. “Or something as close to it as makes no matter – and when you add that to the Ibrepal his eyeballs are already floating in, it could be absolutely, bloody lethal. He was still high when I pulled him out of there. I took a little blood and shot him with the blockers, or he’d still be flying. I’m not going to be responsible for this, Rick. I’m the CMO of this expedition, not his keeper.”

“Gryphon?” Vaurien exploded. “Where in the name of –” He glared down at Teniko. “Your bags were searched on the way in. You didn’t bring it with you. I told you, Tonio – you try this stunt, your feet won’t touch the deck.” His mouth hardened. “Where’d you get it?”

For a moment Teniko seemed to hesitate, as if searching for some likely escape route, and then let his contempt show through. “You have
got
to be kidding me. You think I don’t know my way around a lab? The ship’s set up with chemistry labs that’ll synthesize anything from
Demolex
to angelino, and you’re asking me where I got a few lousy snorts of gryphon?”

“Chemistry 2,” Grant rasped, “adjacent to the drone bunker. Turns out, he’s been cooking up a batch at whim, crashing in the bunker to use it. No bloody wonder he’s been halfway off his head lately – I knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t get him to come in for a full set of scans, and there’s only so much data you can get with a handy. You want the truth, Rick? He’s out of it. Whacko. He has no place on this ship. I wouldn’t let him within shouting distance of a lab, and I wouldn’t trust his work, supposing he thought of a new way to prop open a door. He belongs in an institution – the same kind of loony house Barb found him in. And he’s done this to himself.”

Anger made Vaurien’s face pale. Travers gave Marin a glance and with a discreet gesture beckoned him out of the way. They joined Vidal on the other side of the Infirmary, where Mick had hopped up to sit on the bed by the little tank where Grant ‘cooked’ his medical nano.

“You fool,” Vaurien said in an ominously quiet tone. “That was your chance, Tonio, and you blew it.”

“You need me,” Teniko began, too loud, too harsh.

But Vaurien’s head was shaking. “Not in this condition. Not with work that could kill us all. You’re barred from the labs, and if I see you in Ops again, I’ll confine you to quarters. In fact, if I even
see
you again, I’ll lock a door on you, Tonio, and you can stay there for the duration. You disgust me.” He turned away with that, and walked out of the Infirmary without a glance back though he called, “Walk with me, Bill.”