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I was alone in the repair chamber. Neptune was missing and his computer was unattended. The red indicator light on the side of the computer blinked at twice the pace that it had when he’d first activated it. The timer display continued to count down the seconds until the hatch opened. When it did, I’d be sucked out of the ship by the force of the atmospheric pressure. I didn’t know how much time I had, but I knew I didn’t have much.
I jumped off the rungs and free-fell to the base of the chamber. The cord attached to my containment suit jerked me short of crashing into Neptune’s computer. I flailed my arms around behind me to unhook the cord. Seconds after the metal disconnected and swung into the side of the chamber, the red blinking light turned bright blue.
Crap!
I grabbed the computer and jumped out of the repair chamber, slamming the heavy round door shut with the force of my weight against it. The mechanism locked into place. I didn’t know what would happen on the other side of the door and I wasn’t going to stick around to find out.
I tucked the computer under my arm and ran as fast as I could down the hallway toward the cell. After everything I’d learned about Neptune, after him arresting me and jailing me and freeing me and pretend-chipping me, I couldn’t believe he’d betrayed me. He was a master at manipulation. I wondered if I would have seen his betrayal coming if he hadn’t been banned from teaching and I’d been able to take his course.
Wait a minute. How did Neptune know we had five minutes in which to check the stability of the ship? How did he know about the problem with the ship in the first place? Engineering had been compromised. So where had he gotten the schematics, the timetables, and the intel reports? And how could he possibly have known I’d show up in the uniform ward after Pika told me how he’d disobeyed orders to keep the doc from chipping me in Council Chambers?
He couldn’t. He’d shown up prepared to unlock a suit for himself. I hadn’t even known what was in that cabinet, and that was my responsibility. Neptune had taken the information he’d been given and planned to conduct the repair mission himself.
And if Neptune had been inside the repair chamber when he entered the code to release the pressurized door, the atmospheric pull would have sucked him out into zero space right after me. We would have died within minutes of each other.
So, where had he gone? He’d left his computer. He’d left the indicator on. I’d trained for years for an emergency just like this one. It was do-or-die time. Time to prove if I were the person I’d always wanted to be.
When Neptune had me in lockup, I’d watched him work. His computer wasn’t all that different from the training computer in my Level 3 courses. I dropped into his chair and ran my hands over the colorful knobs and switches and buttons. I pulled off my gloves and ran my fingers under the bottom of the desk. There was a small button on the right. Yes. That was what I’d been hoping to find.
Hostility among the ranks of ship personnel was rare but not unheard of. Those of us who made it through our classes on tactical advantages had the option of studying either computers or drone technology. I’d opted for computers. My partner, Zeke Champion, told me his dad was in charge of computer repairs on space fleet vessels.
One day, when Vaan stayed late to meet with political leaders, Zeke told me to crawl under the desk and look for a button. Surprised that he was right, I bribed him with Plunian potato chips until he told me what the button did. It blacked out the computer from the ship’s operating system, forcing it to function without a connection to the network. It was called going dark. I’d asked him why anybody would want to do such a thing.
The answer was deceptively simple. When you didn’t know who was tampering with your information, you went dark so nobody knew what you knew. It was the difference between RSVP’ing to a party and showing up on someone’s doorstep unexpected. The hazards of such an action so far outweighed the benefits that I felt like I’d wasted a perfectly good batch of homemade Plunian potato chips as a bribe.
If I got out of this alive, I was going to find Zeke and cook him a five-course meal.
I pressed the button and the computer system went dark. A moment later, a flash of neon green burst through the middle of the screen. Small pixels of color broke away, leaving a small, spinning insignia.
Counter security network. Enter code word.
Ten white squares blinked on the screen. Ten letters. Neptune’s code. I didn’t know Neptune’s code. I didn’t know anything about Neptune. How was I supposed to figure this out?
I clawed at the thick white containment suit until it was in a pile on the floor. I bent my head down toward the transmitter. “Neptune, it’s Stryker. I’m at your computer. I’m trying to access the counter security network and I need your code. Does this thing work two ways?” I slapped at the transmitter. “Neptune! Where are you!”
“Stryker,” he said. “I’m in here.”
His voice came not from the transmitter, but from the holding cell where I’d spent my first night. I approached the area when I saw him. He was on the ground. There was a large gash in his shirt and blood covered the fabric by his shoulder.
“Don’t.” He held up his hand. “Beams.”
I stopped short right before the high-intensity light beams appeared. The floor to ceiling barrier caused sweat to run down the side of my head into the collar of my uniform. I slapped my palm against the button on the wall. The beams didn’t retract.
“Why won’t they turn off?”
“You need a top-level security card to deactivate them.”
“You need Doc,” I said. “I’ll get him.”
“Not Doc. Save the ship.”
“I need your code.”
He closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell with labored breathing. His lips parted and a word came out, faint and barely decipherable. “No.”
Neptune’s pain was evident. He was on the floor, his back up against the cot that I’d rested on four days ago when he’d treated me like a criminal. He kept his left hand on his shirt, pressing the fabric against the open wound. His eyes were half open. He was fading.
“Neptune!” I shouted. He opened his eyes. “Man up. What’s your code?”
“Daila Teron.”