where one of the mooring lines was anchored to the asteroid. It was hard to see much detail in the blackness, but it looked as if something was on the line.
“Father?”
“Yeah?”
“I think there’s something on the-”
There were twelve simultaneous, blinding flashes of light down near the asteroid. Victor instinctively clenched his eyes shut, feeling the ship shift slightly beneath his feet.
“What was that?” asked Marco.
Victor opened his eyes and saw among the dots of brightness still burned into his vision that all twelve mooring lines had been cut. The ship was adrift. Someone had blown the lines.
“It’s an attack!” Father shouted. “Hold on to something!”
The first laser hit the PK not two meters from where Victor was standing, slicing it from its base. A mechanism inside the PK exploded outward, causing the PK to shoot back like a rocket in zero gravity. It struck Marco in the side of the head just as he was bending down, tearing him away from the ship and sending him spinning out into space.
“Victor, get down!” Father cried.
Victor initiated the magnets in his hands and waist belt and quickly lowered himself to the hull on his stomach. The alarm in his HUD was beeping. Father must have initiated it. Everywhere on the ship, the siren would be wailing now, waking everyone.
Two laser blasts hit the hull near where Victor and Father lay, slicing off more sensors and instruments. Another laser cut wide to Victor’s left, and Victor turned his head and watched in horror as the laserline transmitter was hit. In one swift slice, the laser cut away the entire mechanism, leaving only the mounting plate and a few scorched circuits. The severed piece floated there in space, drifting slowly away. The ship’s primary source of long- range communication was gone.
Victor flinched as three more lasers swept across the surface of the ship to his right, not cutting deep into the hull, but slicing away all protruding instrumentations in their paths. Victor closed his eyes, expecting the inevitable, but the lasers didn’t touch him. A moment later his alarm went silent, and his HUD winked out. He had no power. His suit was dead. Had a laser cut his lifeline? No, the surface lights on El Cavador were out as well; the lasers must have hit the main generators. Victor took a breath. He wasn’t getting fresh air. He no longer had heat. He tried to move, and the rotation of his body caused him to drift away from the hull. No power meant no magnets. He realized a moment too late that nothing was anchoring him to the ship. He reached out, clawing at the smooth surface, trying to get purchase, desperate to cling to something. He looked at Father, who was screaming, though Victor could hear nothing. Father had one hand outstretched, the other hand gripping a recessed handhold. Victor grabbed for Father’s hand, but it was more than a meter beyond his reach.
Another laser hit the hull, slicing away another sensor.
Victor turned his head, frantically scanning the sky around him. Was it the starship?
Then he saw it.
At first it was just a black space in the sky where stars should be. Then the ship came closer, and Victor could make out detail. It wasn’t a starship. It was a corporate. A Juke ship.
Floodlights blinded him. Victor raised his arm, shielding his eyes, squinting at the light. The corporate ship had approached in darkness and was now charging in, lights blazing. It wasn’t slowing down. It was going to ram El Cavador.
Victor looked back at Father, who was still screaming for him to reach. Victor flailed, reaching out, straining, stretching, extending his fingers.
The ship struck.
Father moved away fast.
Victor’s body slammed into something hard, the wind rushing out of him in a violent impact to his chest. He felt a flash of pain. The corporates had hit him. He was flat against their ship, and then he wasn’t, spinning away, free again, tumbling, disoriented. He turned his head and saw El Cavador moving away from him, his lifeline stretching out, growing taut. He couldn’t breath. His lungs were screaming for air. He looked at his lifeline and knew that a hard jerk might tear it from his back. He reached back and grabbed the line just as it went taut. The line jerked him hard, but it stayed connected. He held on. He was tumbling again, trailing behind El Cavador like a trolled fish line.
Then in a single, painful inhale of breath, his lungs expanded again. He took in air. His chest burned. His arm hurt. His suit was cold. His head was ringing. The air was stale.
“Father!”
There was no reply. He still had no power.
El Cavador was drifting awkwardly ahead of him, moving abnormally to the side, like a boat turned sideways in an unforgiving current. The twelve severed mooring cables hung loosely below the ship. Two more laser blasts hit sensors on the side of the ship, though Victor couldn’t see what they were. He was still spinning, flying, dazed, limp. Everything was happening too quickly.
Behind him, he saw the corporate ship fire its retros and slow down, coming to a stop right where El Cavador had been. They wanted the rock, Victor realized. The bastards had bumped them for the rock.
Victor rotated his body, trying to control the spinning. El Cavador was still in a dead float, moving away from him. His lifeline was still taut. He was probably forty meters from the ship. He pulled on the lifeline, using the momentum to stop the spinning. His body steadied. The spinning ceased. He could see Father clinging to the ship.
The siren started beeping in his helmet again. His heads-up display flickered to life. He had power. The auxiliary generators had kicked in.
“Victor!” It was Father’s voice.
“I’m here.” He was already hitting the propulsion trigger on his thumb, flying forward, hurrying toward the ship.
“Are you hurt?” Father asked.
Victor could see Father getting to his feet and then jumping from the ship, flying out toward him. Victor rotated his arm. It wasn’t broken. Or at least he didn’t think so. “No. I’m okay.”
El Cavador was still drifting. He and Father were coming at each other fast. Victor let up on his propulsion just as Father did. Even still, they collided, clinging to each other. Father scanned Victor’s helmet, looking for fractures. “You’re not hurt? You’re not leaking?”
“No.” He had never seen Father this rattled before. “You?”
“Fine. It’s Marco. Help me get him inside. He’s not responding.”
Only then did Victor realize that there was a second lifeline trailing behind the ship, albeit farther down the ship from his position. Marco’s line had snagged on one of the mooring braces, and Marco’s body was limp and lifeless. Father oriented himself and hit his propulsion trigger, flying straight toward Marco. Victor followed close behind him.
They reached Marco and anchored themselves to the ship. Marco’s body was limp and nonresponsive. They turned him over. His eyes were closed. His helmet was cracked, though it didn’t appear as if air was leaking.
“I don’t think he’s breathing,” said Father. He looked up, thinking, not sure what to do, then came to a decision. “Go open the hatch to the bay airlock. As soon as Marco and I come through, pull in the slack from our lifelines as fast as you can. Then come in after us and seal the hatch tight. You understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Father got behind Marco and wrapped one arm around his chest and another around his waist. He was going to fly him in. “Go, Victor.”
Victor launched, pushing the thumb trigger down as far as it would go, hurtling straight to the airlock hatch that led into the cargo bay. The exterior siren lights were spinning, bathing the whole ship in rays of moving red. The damage was everywhere: scorch marks, stumps where equipment had been. Victor reached the hatch, opened it, then moved to the side. Father was coming up fast, carrying Marco’s limp body. Marco’s legs thumped against the frame of the hatch as he came through, but Marco showed no response. Victor followed them inside and began reeling in the slack from their lifelines, pulling hand over hand as fast as he could. Father was beside him now, pulling frantically. Finally it was all in. Victor sealed the hatch, and air immediately began pouring into the airlock to
