Avon hared down the Liberator corridors, charging towards the flight deck. The swooping alarm that filled the air around him was new. He’d never heard it before, in all the time they had been on Liberator.
Avon didn’t have to flatter himself about his own abilities as a technician to know that he understood Liberator better than any of the other crew. His was an understanding based on fact. Not the instinctive connection that Jenna had as a pilot, and because of her initial connection with Zen that had named the ship. Nor the emotional attachment that Blake seemed to have for the vessel, ever since he had commandeered it. They had taken charge of Liberator when it was abandoned after a huge space conflict. Were they about to lose it during another?
The Zen computer’s usual reluctance to provide comprehensive information had not prevented Avon discerning the basics of the Liberator‘s capacities. Then Orac had managed to glean additional technical specifications for him after their encounter on Space World with the System, the vessel’s creator. Whether it was enhancing the ship’s detector shield, or tuning the neutron blasters’ recharge capacity, or even improving the quality of the food machines, Avon was the unchallenged expert. And once he had fulfilled his promise to Blake, the ship was all his.
Avon knew he had barely scratched the surface of Liberator‘s potential. He had tested its capacity at speed, optimised its asymmetric thrust computers, refined its weaponry after skirmishes with the Federation, and even explored its connection with negative hyperspace. Yet the more he learned about Liberator, the less he realised he really understood. And this unexpected new alarm, filling the corridors around him with its alien insistence, reinforced that thought as he ran onto the flight deck.
‘Vila, what the hell is going on?’
Vila’s head jerked in his direction. ‘Where the hell have you been?
Avon wasn’t sure whether Vila’s wild look signified relief or fear.
There was no such difficulty working out Jenna’s feelings. ‘Where’s Cally?’ she demanded. ‘She went to look for you.’
‘Otherwise engaged,’ Avon replied. He took up his usual position at the controls. The undulating wail of the alarm continued all around them. ‘All right, Zen, turn that racket off. We’ve got the message.’
‘CONFIRMED.’
The alarm gave one last chirrup before it stopped.
‘That’s better,’ said Avon. He paused for a moment while his hearing returned to normal after the dissonance of the unknown alarm. The after-effect seemed to be a distant clanking sound. Or maybe it was more like metal scratching on metal. An irregular noise, somewhere in the distance. Was he just imagining it?
‘That doesn’t sound better at all,’ moaned Vila. ‘In fact, I think it sounds a whole lot worse.’
So, not his imagination, Avon concluded. ‘Zen, what was that noise for?’
‘THE SOUND IS FROM LIBERATOR‘S PROXIMITY ALARM.’
Avon didn’t understand. ‘But we’re well away from the main battle. The conflict is far from here.’
‘Not far enough,’ grumbled Vila.
‘Closer than you’d imagine,’ Jenna said. Her fingers moved swiftly over her controls, and the main view screen flickered and changed. A view of the distant conflict near Star One was replaced with the external view of a spaceship in extreme close up. The camera showed a lattice of bonded metallic plates, interlocked and stretching off into the distance. Service robots, squat little devices that scuttled to and fro, were attending to impact damage. The surface of the vessel was pockmarked with craters, as though it had come off worse in close combat. The robots didn’t seem to be making much impression on the damage, and were perhaps fighting a losing battle of their own.
Avon puzzled how it was possible to get such a clear and detailed view from this kind of distance of one of the warships engaged in the battle. Maybe he knew less about the Liberator‘s capacity than he’d assumed.
Then he worked it out. It wasn’t the hull of a distant warship. Jenna was showing him this because it explained the noises they could hear. That was an image of Liberator‘s hull.
‘That’s the alien ship that disintegrated earlier…’ she began.
‘The one Vila shot down,’ Avon noted sourly.
‘Not exactly.’
‘Then what, exactly?’
Jenna didn’t react to his anger, he noticed. ‘Vila didn’t shoot it,’ she explained calmly. ‘And it didn’t explode. The ship just split apart. Into dozens of limpet mines that have attached themselves to the outer hull.’
Avon stood up, to study the view screen more closely. No wonder those service robots were not keeping pace with the damage inflicted on the hull. They were causing the damage. As he watched, one of them scuttled across near to the camera and clamped itself to the hull. There was a bright flash and the camera image cut out completely.
‘They’re locked in place,’ Vila explained plaintively. ‘We can’t shake them off.’
‘They’ve already disabled the port sensor array.’ Jenna alternated the main screen’s display to illustrate her point. Image after image revealed only static. ‘We’re blind on that side.’
From outside the vessel, they could hear the continued scratching and scraping of the alien devices.
Avon stalked angrily across the flight deck. ‘Zen! Are those things able to penetrate the hull?’
‘THAT INFORMATION IS NOT AVAILABLE.’
‘Oh, come on! Give me something useful!’
Jenna had moved across to stand beside Avon. ‘It’s alien technology. Zen can’t tell how dangerous they are.’
‘It could tell enough to activate the proximity alarm,’ Avon snarled at her. He closed his eyes to concentrate on what his next line of inquiry should be, but that only meant that he focused more on the scratching sound of the mines on the hull. ‘Zen, can you confirm that these devices pose no danger to the continued safety of the Liberator?’
‘NEGATIVE.’
‘What about the auto-repair systems? Can they clear these limpet mines?’
‘NEGATIVE RESPONSE.’
Vila seemed to share Avon’s exasperation. ‘We could do with something more positive, Zen.’
Avon glared at Vila. ‘We could do with something more positive from you.’
‘What did I say?’ protested Vila.
What indeed, thought Avon. Perhaps that was the answer. He stood behind Vila’s seat, placed his hands on the back of his chair, and spoke softly. ‘You said they were locked in place.’
Vila was obviously suspicious at Avon’s more emollient tone. ‘So?’
‘So suit up and get out onto the hull.’
‘What?’ Vila turned his chair around so quickly that he almost knocked Avon over. Avon merely laughed at the appalled expression on his face. ‘You can’t be serious,’ squeaked Vila.
Avon didn’t say anything.
‘You are serious!’ said Vila. He was evidently struggling to find the right way to protest. Avon folded his arms, enjoying this rare moment of Vila being lost for words. In the end, all he could manage was: ‘Why me?’
‘Firstly, you’ve been out on the hull before, so you know your way around. And secondly, you can pick a lock.’ Avon smiled at the logic of this. ‘It’s your area of expertise, you said it yourself. Well, now’s your chance, genius.’
‘But thirdly,’ blustered Vila, ‘I don’t want to!’
‘Two out of three is good enough,’ Avon told him. He was already walking back to his own control seat, deeming the discussion to be over. ‘Get suited up, Vila. You’re wasting time.’
Jenna came over to put a supportive hand on Vila’s shoulder. Avon knew that she wasn’t going to disagree with the suggestion. What other choice did they have? Perhaps she would even persuade him.
‘I’ll come with you,’ she told Vila. ‘I can help.’
‘This is a mine clearance,’ Avon told her sharply. ‘It’s not a sightseeing tour.’
Jenna clearly wasn’t going to be bullied by Avon. ‘It’ll be faster with two. And I can watch out for any other incoming attacks until the hull sensors are back online.’
Avon studied her as she explained this rationale to him. She was talking to Avon, but all her comments were directed towards Vila. Encouraging and reassuring him.
‘All right,’ said Avon eventually. ‘You can both get out there. I’ll work with Orac on alternatives.’
Jenna smiled at him. Whether to thank him, or because she’d got her own way, he wasn’t sure. Not that he cared either way. ‘Hurry up,’ he said. ‘There’s no time to lose.’
‘Oh great!’ complained Vila. He remained in his flight seat. His eyes were fixed on the console in front of him, unwilling to meet Avon’s gaze. ‘You’re staying safe in here, Avon, while me and Jenna go out and face death by alien bomb.’ He folded his arms in a feeble gesture of protest. ‘You saw on the view screen what those things did to the scanner. Blew it to pieces. I’d quite like all my pieces to remain firmly attached to each other, if it’s all the same to you. And even if it isn’t all the same to you, for that matter.’
He fell silent. Alongside the usual ticks and hums of the flight deck, he thought he could hear the scratching of the devices out on the hull, with the occasional small explosion.
Avon placed himself right in front of Vila’s position, so that he could not miss his presence. ‘Do you think you’ll feel any safer here on the flight deck?’
‘Yes,’ Vila replied. He looked up hopefully at Avon. ‘I really think that I would…’
‘Safer here on the flight deck,’ continued Avon in a dangerous tone, ‘with me?’
Vila stood up at once. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I’ll get suited up. Come on, Jenna.’
And with that, he turned on his heel and walked straight out of the flight deck.
Jenna eyed Avon thoughtfully as he chuckled to himself. ‘You really know how to motivate the troops, Avon. You’re very persuasive.’
‘Well,’ he replied, ‘I know how to persuade Vila.’
Jenna shook her head disapprovingly, and started after Vila. As she reached the exit, a thought seemed to strike her. ‘Where is Cally, really?’
Avon considered what to tell her. It wouldn’t help Jenna focus on helping Vila if she was worrying about Cally and Blake down on the surface of Megiddo. And if she knew, she’d prevent Avon from any attempt to move Liberator out of the planetoid’s teleport range. But telling her nothing would raise further suspicions. And being caught in a blatant lie could backfire later.
Jenna was persistent. ‘Where is she?’
‘Looking after Blake,’ he concluded.
‘We could do with her help, too, at the moment.’
‘I know,’ Avon said. He smiled at the memory of his last conversation with Cally in the teleport area. ‘But not everyone is so easily persuaded.’
Jenna hovered by the doorway, unsure.
‘You’d better get after Vila,’ he told her.
He saw from her expression that she’d reached a decision. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll route the hull suit audiolinks through channel nine. Let us know if you come up with any better ideas.’ And then she was gone.
Avon suspected Jenna was a reluctant participant in this foray outside the Liberator, but that she had concluded it was the best possible option. He located Orac and placed the computer on a table. Orac powered up as the activation key slotted into place.
The scrabbling noises from the hull seemed to have intensified. It was time to investigate alternatives. Avon had some thoughts about his other options. But he knew that Jenna was going to like those even less.