MoonRush (21 page)

“If we don’t correct course,” Simon continued, “We’re not gonna care about a couple of dents in the hull.”

Once more, Jarod set to, his hands gliding over the controls,
feeling
the ship. And the ship was not a happy camper right now. From the readouts, Jarod could see that the heat was getting into some delicate areas, messing with their ability to control the ship.

Simon pulled at the
yoke
, sweat beading on his brow, a couple of drops detaching themselves in the zero gravity. As much as he strained, their angle of descent did not change.
W
as it actually getting hotter inside the ship?
Jarod couldn’t tell if his mind was playing tricks on him, or not.

He
saw
that if
the status quo remained
, they
would
all go down in flames. Jarod had to do something. Now. He wracked his brain, looking for the solution. Nothing.

And then the ship told him what to do. That was the only way he could describe it. From the connection of his hands on the controls, he once more
felt
the ship. He saw the shape of the shuttle in his mind’s eye
.
T
he solution was right there
—
and so simple. It was also insane.

Before he could second-guess himself, he started to flip the vessel upside down.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Simon barked, fighting back on the controls.

I’m not really sure
, Jarod thought. Out loud he said, “Trust me. I’ve got an idea.”

Simon took a deep breath and let it out between his teeth. “Well, when the choices are between burning up and dying and breaking apart and dying…” He released the controls fully to Jarod.

As Jarod turned the ship over, the angle of the wing and body of the upper portion of the ship struck the upper atmosphere with enough force to cause the ship to ricochet away from the
E
arth. The hull groaned and buckled, but held. The
Eureka
skipped across the surface of the atmosphere, each bounce taking the ship farther away from the planet and closer to safety.

Amazing. It had worked. Elation burst. “That is how you do it!”

Jarod hit the little man’s raised hand in a sideways high-five. Then Simon pitched forward
,
hitting his
head
on the control panel
and
resetting the artificial gravity. Everyone not buckled in hit the floor. Including the blood gushing out from Simon’s temple. Jarod had been too busy flying to notice the little man’s bleeding wound.

“Cleo! Get up here!” Jarod yelled back into the hold.

Cleo called back. “In a second
!
I’m patching up Buton.”

“Not in a second.
Now
! It’s Simon!”

* * *

Cleo left the bandage dangling
from
Buton’s forehead and dashed up to the cockpit with her
M
edkit. She took their pilot
’s state,
and all vestig
es
of irritation with Jarod vanished. Simon’s head lolled to the right, exposing the deep gash in his left temple. The blood was clotting around the wound, but
was
still weeping from the cut itself.
A
puddle of the dark red liquid had gathered in the hollow of his clavicle.

In short, Simon was not doing well.

As Cleo took his vitals, Jarod fought the instruments, trying to keep them on course, while talking over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” The barely controlled panic in Jarod’s tone was evident. Apparently
,
their escape from the station had done little for his confidence as a pilot.

Cleo was gentle, but direct. “Concussion at best. S
ub
dural hematoma at worst.” She could practically see Jarod’s heart sink through the bottom of his boots. Cleo pawed through her kit, looking for medicine, instruments, anything, but came up with no tangible
tools
. “We need to get him to a med facility. This glorified first-aid kit ain’t gonna cut it.”

“Look!” Rob pointed over Cleo’s shoulder at the view screen in front of them.

Jarod magnified so they could see more clearly. The station tilted at a crazy angle
.
T
he revolutions
were
no longer precise, but wobbling, careening the complex out of its proper place in orbit. Each of the docking bays seemed to clench in upon
themselves
like a series of gnarled fists. Escape pods continued their mad flight away from the doomed structure.

As Cleo watched, a crack appeared right
in
the center of the station. Its maw gape
d
open, exposing the flashing lights and pulsing psychedelic walls of the discotheque. A neon sign advertising safety gear smashed into the side of the station
.
L
ights explod
ed,
and radiant gases drift
ed
off into the void of space. The welcome girl holograph continued to wave and welcome nonexistent customers into the breach.

Huge sections of the station separated
from the central core, creating an ever-expanding artificial asteroid field where once there was a pleasure palace. The sight of so much senseless violence shocked them into silence.

From the depths of her soul, Cleo felt a sadness pour forth, filling her entire being.
N
ormal
ly,
she
use
d
anger to burn away her hurt and fear. But no amount of anger could combat…this.

“Who could do such a thing…?” She left the question hanging without an answer. Honestly, what answer could there be?

A low moan from Simon refocused her attention on their current crisis. “We’ve got to head back to Earth.”

“Great idea, Cleo. Just one little problem.” Jarod jabbed a finger at the nearest indicator light flashing a bright red. “We’ve lost part of our starboard shielding.”

Jarod’s response
made
no sense to Cleo. Did he not see Simon? Did he not understand just how serious his condition was?

“So?” she queried. “Get us home.”

Buton, speaking from behind them all, placed a hand on Cleo’s shoulder. “That tiling is the only thing that stands between us and…” He indicated out the window at the debris raining down from the space station. Chunks of the station larger than their ship were burning to bits right in front of their eyes.

Ah. That was why. Cleo flagellated herself mentally, looking for the solution
.
She came up empty. There didn’t seem to be any viable options in front of them.

Then Rob burst out, “How about the moon?”

And there it was. The answer, clear as day. Of course
—
they needed to get to the moon.
N
o atmosphere there
could
burn them up. There were medical facilities. Plus, that was what they had come up here for to begin with. She fought the urge to pull Rob in for a bear hug, knowing it would do nothing but irritate him.

One member of the crew was not so thrilled about this latest turn of events. Jarod.

“Guys, I don’t know. To fly that far? Without a pilot? I barely know what I’m doing here.” He shrugged and glanced at Cleo, apparently looking for backup.

Cleo smacked him on the back of his head. Hard.

“Oh,
hell
no,” she declared. “You did
not
drag us up here just to wimp out now
!
This is
not
the time to develop humility. Cowboy up, Jarod
!
”

She held his gaze for a second to make sure
that
he understood just how serious she was,
and
then turned to gather up Simon in her arms. She indicated with her chin for Jarod to take his place in the pilot’s seat as she handed off the little person to Buton,
and
then seated herself in the chair Jarod had just vacated. “Okay, now show me what I need to do to help.”

This bucket of bolts was making it to the moon, come hell or high water. Cleo would make
certain of that.

* * *

As a lead scientist, Weigner had not had his ideas challenged by anyone other than the universe itself in a very long time. The last actual human being
who
had dared to face Weigner down was now washing dishes for a living
—
and counting himself very lucky to be doing even that.

So when one of the general’s flunkies laugh
ed
at him, Weigner had not the remotest clue
of
how to respond. The idea
of
going to the moon himself to find the crystals was
so
ludicrous
that it
had never entered his mind. Rather than
lambaste
the young cretin, Weigner just stared at him until the man’s laughter diminished under its own weight. Dr. Weigner arched an eyebrow at the general, who then immediately fired the young upstart. Crisis averted.

They had now moved on to how
they could get to the moon
. Another private or lieutenant or some such entered
the conference room and delivered a message to his boss.

Weigner continued as if the interruption had not occurred. “A crystal this large will be within the center of the dispersal pattern of
—
”

The general glanced down at the missive and cursed. “Dammit
!
The
s
pace
s
tation’s docking bays have been destroyed.”

Weigner felt shock and denial war
ring on his face
. “How?”

“I guess someone couldn’t wait for the
p
residential order.” The commander must have seen the question on Weigner’s face as he completed his thought
s
out loud
.
“Classic predatory behavior. Isolate your prey.”