I may not be able to make Verux take responsibility for their actions, twenty years ago or even now. But no one is leaving this ship with that device.
33
My feet lift off the ground, and the force of the escaping atmosphere pulls me horizontal and level with the winch holding me. But I don’t go any farther. The carabiner and winch pull painfully on my suit but hold. For the moment.
The cargo bay empties rapidly. Of bodies, of crates; even portions of the piano are identifiable as they blow by.
Outside, theAresmoves out of the way, revealing empty space beyond. I can’t imagine the alarms that are going on over there. They’re lucky if they didn’t hull breach when the extendable bridge tore away. But then again, maybe the ship’s builders planned for that contingency. I don’t know. They don’t seem interested in taking a chance.
I catch a bright flash as the ship rotates and then speeds away.
But the terrible rush of air whipping past me continues. It should have stopped by now. Shouldn’t it? The cargo bay is large, but not that large.
It clicks, then.The airlock.
On the other side of the cargo bay, the airlock is still open.
“Fuck.”
This isn’t going to stop until the pressure equalizes. Untilallthe air in here is out there.
That’s going to take longer than I was anticipating. But as long as everything holds, I should be okay…
Abruptly, I feel myself lurch toward the doors. Several inches, then a few more.
The hook on my suit must be tearing, the fabric not reinforced enough.
I let go of the gun and reach frantically for the hook where the tether is attached, as if my grip might stop the final tear.
But the fabric feels whole, no disruption that I can detect.
My body lurches forward again, but this time, the squeal of metal on metal is identifiable above the roar of depressurization.
A sinking feeling floods through me.
I tip my head back to confirm my suspicion. The LINA’s back end is now angled more toward the cargo bay doors than it was before.
We couldn’t find, hadn’t bothered with trying to find, docking clamps when we landed. There’d been no reason to; we’d expected to be leaving again shortly.
Which means, the LINA is just sitting on the cargo bay floor. Still magnetized and holding true. For the moment.
In another couple of minutes, though, she’ll be pulled through the doors into space, and me with her.
If I’m lucky.
If I’m not lucky, I could end up being crushed between LINA and the wall, depending on how she’s pulled and how tangled I end up being in the tether.
I fight for the release, but the carabiner is pulled so taut, with no slack in the tether, I can’t get myself unhooked.
I’m fucked.
Yanking on the tether above my head, I try to pull myself closer to the winch, to give myself the room I need. But I’m just not strong enough.
The LINA scrapes forward again at an angle, her bottom hull lifting slightly but still scraping across the decking.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Abruptly the tether in my hands goes slack, but only for a second. I open my eyes in time to see the LINA’s winch unwinding madly, then I’m spinning out faster than I can see, heading straight out through the cargo bay doors.
