Zero stood in the airlock again, the baggy space suit floating around him. He’d used a rope for a belt this time, cinching it tight so he could see and maneuver a little better. The outer pockets were filled with supplies: self-sealing bolts, a length of heavy chain, and two cans of spray paint—just in case. Tucked under his left arm was a second space suit, and under his right was a hammer.
He took a breath, checked his seals again, and opened the airlock door.
The empty hangar yawned open in front of him, and he walked across it slowly in his heavy magnetic boots. He reached the wall and thought about jumping up and out of the hangar, but that vast, empty nothingness above him freaked him out, so instead he just put his feet on the wall—first one boot, then the next—and walked straight up the side. It made him uncomfortable at first, but then he remembered what his mother had said—there was no true down in space, so why not make it whatever he wanted it to be? He started to think of the wall as the floor, and suddenly it was—he felt as if the whole ship had stood on its side suddenly, just to match his new orientation. He reached the top of the wall and stepped out onto the outer hull of the Pathfinder and reoriented himself again. If he always thought of his feet as down and his head as up, it made the walk much easier.
Which was good, because he had half a skyscraper to walk up the side of.
The hangar was on Ring 42, and the Drago was docked on 240. That was more than half a kilometer away, which would have been easy on Earth but was slow and exhausting in the magnetic boots. Every now and then the communicator crackled, with Jim or Kratt reporting that they still hadn’t found anybody, and Mama demanding that they try harder. When he finally reached the Drago, he stopped and took stock of it. Having already been inside of it, he found the outside less menacing than he’d expected—no skull and crossbones or anything like that, just a squat, boxy ship with a couple of round pods on the sides. It looked like it had landed on its belly, sitting on the Pathfinder like a toad on a log. Zero studied the ship as he approached, looking for the most important part of his plan: the Drago had its own outer airlock, on the side by one of the bedrooms. And that was almost certainly where Kratt would come out.
Zero needed to get on top of the Drago, but the docking tube connecting the two ships was mostly plastic and rubber. So he couldn’t do his “walk up the wall” trick this time. He’d have to jump. The thought of it made him queasy—he’d be close to both ships, but he wouldn’t be touching either of them. He’d be alone in outer space, billions of kilometers from even an asteroid, floating free and untethered. Even if it was only for a second, it scared him to death.
He put the hammer through his belt, made sure his glove was as firmly in place as he could get it, and looked up at the Drago above him. It had handholds here and there, or things that could be used as handholds. He picked one, focused on it, and turned off the magnets in his boots.
He jumped.
It felt like an eternity, hanging in space, drifting out and away from the Pathfinder, but it was really only a meter. Then the Drago came in reach, and he grabbed at the handhold on the side of it, clinging to it with all his strength. He gripped it tightly, brought his legs around, and reactivated the magnets. They clamped onto the hull of the Drago, and Zero stood up. He changed his perspective as he walked, moving around the outside the ship until he was standing on the top. He held up the extra space suit and positioned it carefully, facing away from the Drago’s airlock. When he was certain it was in the right place, he let go of it; with no gravity or air currents to move it, the suit simply floated there, motionless, just like someone was standing in it.
Everything seemed so still and silent, Zero had to remind himself that they were currently traveling at four million kilometers an hour. But the motion was relative, like his father had said—he and the Drago and the empty space suit and everything else were also traveling at four million kilometers an hour, so without any air to provide resistance, there was nothing to slow them down. They may as well have been standing still.
“Okay,” said Zero. “Now let’s get some pirates’ attention.” He walked across the ship, looking for a target sensitive enough to raise an alarm. He found a sensor panel and walked toward it. “May as well start here.” He pulled the hammer from his belt, held it firmly, and banged on the sensor panel until it cracked.
It took a few seconds—long, agonizing seconds—but finally the communicator buzzed to life.
“Hey guys,” said Spider, “I just got an alert from the Drago’s computer. Looks like one of the sensors failed?”
“We can fix it later,” said Mama. “Keep working.”
“Oh, come on,” said Zero. He sighed, looked for another target, and found it—an antenna. This one he didn’t even bother to hit; he just grabbed it in his hands and snapped it in half.
“Weird,” said Spider. “I just got another alert. We lost an antenna.”
“It’s probably just a computer failure,” said Jim. “If the internal diagnostic system broke, it would start sending us all kinds of false alarms.”
Mama snarled. “You told me you fixed that system, Spider.”
“I did,” said Spider. “It was working perfectly.”
“Well things don’t just break for no reason,” said Mama.
“That’s what I’m saying,” said Spider. “We need to at least look and see which system is broken.”
Zero found another external sensor node, and smashed it to pieces.
“We lost a camera,” said Spider. “This is definitely not normal. Somebody go see what’s going on!”
“Fine,” said Mama. “I’m closest, so I’ll go look. But if it’s just that diagnostic system and you didn’t fix it right, I’m going to be hopping mad.”
Zero smashed a few more things, then walked over to the Drago’s cockpit, waiting just out of view of the window. A few minutes later, Mama spoke over the communicator again.
“I’m here,” she said. “Where’s that diagnostic terminal, girl? You left this place in such a mess.”
Zero didn’t wait any longer. He raised the hammer, stood up, and walked right in front of the cockpit window.
Mama was muttering. “Can’t find a thing in this—aaahhhhh!” She saw Zero and jumped back, waving her arms in terror. Zero waved, raised his hammer, and slammed it down on the window—there was no way he could break the special glass, but it looked super menacing, and Mama yelped again. “It’s that boy!” she shrieked. “He’s here, on the outside of the ship!” Zero banged on the glass again, and she shouted rage into the communicator. “He’s breaking everything! Somebody, get out there and stop him!”
“I’ll tear him apart!” shouted Kratt.
Zero looked at Mama, waggled his hammer, and walked out of view.
“He’s moved onto the top of the ship!” Mama screamed. “Get him now!”
Zero moved quickly. He walked to the empty floating space suit, threw the hammer away, and pulled out his next group of tools: a chain in one hand and a self-sealing bolt in another. He walked about two meters toward the back of the ship, and used the bolt to weld one end of the chain to a handhold on the hull. All he had to do was wrap the chain through the handle, sliding a bolt through the links, and hit the button. The bolt didn’t spark like before, because outside of the ship there was no oxygen to burn. But it glowed white-hot and welded itself and the chain to the hull of the Drago.
“He’s getting away!” shouted Mama. “Hurry!”
Kratt roared back, incoherent and furious. Zero kept his calm, and dragged the free end of the chain to his hiding place: the flared end of a rocket thruster on the back of the ship. It was just big enough to hold him and keep him hidden from view. As long as Kratt didn’t notice the chain—and Zero was desperately hoping that the big floating space suit would grab all of Kratt’s attention—he would never see Zero at all.
Zero felt a faint hum through his feet. The Drago’s outer airlock sliding open.
Kratt’s voice rumbled in Zero’s ears. “I’m outside.”
“He’s up on top,” said Mama.
Kratt started walking, and Zero held his breath.
“I see him,” said Kratt, and laughed maliciously. Zero counted to five, waiting for the pirate to walk past his hiding place, and then turned off his magnetic boots and floated out into space. He held the edge of the thruster, watching Kratt charge across the hull and tackle the empty space suit. The pirate thrashed around, literally trying to tear the suit apart, while Zero pushed himself off of the thruster and floated up behind him, silent as a ghost. Kratt slowed, and then stopped.
“There’s nobody in this suit,” said Kratt.
Zero slipped the chain through one of the metal loops on the back of Kratt’s suit, stuck a self-sealing bolt through the middle of it, and hit the button.
“What’s that?” shouted Kratt, and spun around. Zero saw him face-to-face, barely half a meter away, Kratt’s face twisted in fury. The pirate lunged to grab him, and Zero tried desperately to get away, pushing himself backward, fumbling in his pocket for a can of spray paint. Kratt almost grabbed him, but Zero dodged. Kratt swung his hand again, glove curled like a claw, and then Zero had the paint can—he pointed it at Kratt’s face, hit the button, and sprayed. The paint that came out froze almost instantly, hitting Kratt’s faceplate in sticky crystals instead of an even layer, but that didn’t matter. Zero wasn’t using the paint as paint, he was using it as propulsion. The force of the spray can wouldn’t have moved him a millimeter on Earth, but here in zero gravity it pushed him backward, just out of reach of Kratt’s hands. Kratt kept coming, and Zero kept spraying and then Kratt stopped, yanked back by the chain.
“That’s the end of your leash, buddy,” said Zero. Kratt stopped, braced himself, and surged forward again. But again the chain yanked him back. Zero waved at the furious pirate, laughing as Kratt struggled, but in doing so, Zero’s gloves slipped, and he dropped the can.
Zero was about three meters away from the Drago, and floating slowly farther every second.
Off into space.
“Ha!” roared Kratt over the intercom. “I got him.”
“Good!” said Mama. “Bring him in.”
“That’s … not what I meant,” said Kratt.
“So you don’t have him?” asked Nyx.
“Not in my hands,” said Kratt, “but I chased him away. He’s floating off into space, without a ship or a jetpack or a tether. We’ll never see him again.”
“Ha!” said Mama. “That will show him.”
Zero reached into his other pocket, and pulled out his second can of spray paint.
“Just in case,” he said, and turned around, and used the sprayer to propel himself down to the surface of the Pathfinder. His boots hit the hull, and he activated the magnets.
“No!” shouted Kratt.
“What happened?” asked Mama.
“He got back to the ship!”
“Then go get him,” said Mama, “and do it right this time!”
Kratt tugged on his chain.
“I can’t move,” Kratt roared. “He chained me to the hull!”
“What?” asked Jim.
“You idiot!” screamed Mama.
“I think I like this kid,” said Spider.
Zero waved at Kratt and turned to walk away, moving around the curve of the ship and out of sight. He didn’t want anyone to see which airlock he used to get back inside.
“Come out and get me!” shouted Kratt.
“How? That’s our only space suit!” said Jim.
“There’s got to be more somewhere,” said Kratt. “Find one!”
“If we have time,” said Mama. “Right now we’ve got bigger things to worry about than helping an idiot.”
“You can’t leave me out here, Mama!”
“Your rebreather’s got plenty of air,” said Mama. “You’ll be fine till we can get to you. For now: Spider, Jim, find that boy!”