Redshirts

“Hester, did you ever tell me that you knew how to fly a shuttle?” Dahl asked, turning to look at Hester.

“Kind of busy now,” Hester said.

“I didn’t know he was rated to fly a shuttle, either,” Finn said, from his seat. His anxiousness was needing a release, and talking seemed like a better idea to him than wetting himself. “And I’ve known him for more than a year.”

“Not something you’d think you’d miss,” Dahl said.

“We weren’t close,” Finn said. “I was mostly just using him for his foot locker.”

Dahl said nothing to this and turned back to the hatch.

“There,” Hester said, and punched a button. The engines thrummed into life. He strapped himself in. “Close that hatch. We’re getting out of here.”

“Not yet,” Dahl said.

“The hell with that,” Hester said. He pressed a button on his control panel to seal the hatch.

Dahl slapped the override at the side of the hatch. “Not yet!” he yelled at Hester.

“What is wrong with you?” Hester yelled back. “Fischer’s got more than enough space for Kerensky and Williams. My vote is for leaving, and since I’m the goddamn pilot, my vote’s the only one that counts!”

“We’re waiting!” Dahl said.

“For fuck’s sake, why?” Hester said.

From his seat, Hanson pointed. “Here they come,” he said.

Dahl looked out the hatch. Kerensky and Williams were hobbling slowly into the shuttle bay, propping each other up. Immediately behind them were the pounding of the machines.

Fischer popped his head out his shuttle hatch and saw Dahl. “Come on!” he said, and ran toward Kerensky and Williams. Dahl leaped out of his shuttle and followed.

“There’s six of them behind us,” Kerensky said, and they came up to the two of them. “We came as fast as we could. Swarming bots—” He collapsed. Dahl grabbed him before he could hit the floor.

“You got him?” Fischer said to Dahl. He nodded. “Get him on your shuttle. Tell your pilot to go. I’ve got Williams. Hurry.” Fischer slung his arm around Williams and dragged him toward his shuttle. Williams turned back to look at Kerensky and Dahl, utterly terrified.

The first of the machines stomped into the shuttle bay.

“Come on, Andy!” Duvall yelled, from the shuttle hatch. Dahl put on a burst of speed and crossed the distance to the shuttle, fairly hurling Kerensky at Duvall and Hanson, who had unlatched himself from his seat as well. They grabbed the lieutenant and dragged him in, Dahl collapsing in afterward.

“Now can we go?” Hester said, rhetorically, because he slapped the hatch button without waiting for a response. The shuttle leaped up from the shuttle bay deck as something slammed into the side and clattered off.

“Harpoon,” Finn said. He had unstrapped himself and was hovering over Hester, looking at a rearview monitor. “It didn’t take.”

The shuttle cleared the bay. “Good riddance,” muttered Hester.

“How’s Kerensky?” Dahl asked Duvall, who was examining Kerensky.

“He’s nonresponsive, but he doesn’t look too bad,” she said, and then turned to Hanson. “Jimmy, get me the medkit, please. It’s on the back of the pilot’s seat.” Hanson went to get it.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Dahl asked.

Duvall looked up briefly. “Told you I’d been ground forces, right? Got medic training then. Spent lots of time patching people up.” She smiled. “Hester’s not the only one with hidden skills.” Hanson came back with the medkit; Duvall cracked it open and got to work.

“Oh, shit,” Finn said, still looking at the monitor.

“What is it?” Dahl said, coming over to Finn.

“The other shuttle,” Finn said. “I’ve got a feed from their cameras. Look.”

Dahl looked. The cameras showed dozens of machines pouring into the shuttle bay, targeting their fire at the shuttle. Above them a dark, shifting cloud hovered.

“The swarm bots,” Finn murmured.

The camera view wobbled and shook and then went blank.

Finn slipped into the co-pilot seat and punched the screen they had just been looking at. “Their shuttle’s been compromised,” he said. “The engines aren’t firing, and it looks like the hull integrity has been breached.”

“We need to go back for them,” Dahl said.

“No,” Hester said. Dahl flared, but Hester turned and looked at him. “Andy, no. If the shuttle’s been breached even a little, those swarming bots are already inside of it. If they’re already inside of it, then Fischer and Williams are already dead.”

“He’s right,” Finn said. “There’s no one to go back for. Even if we did, we couldn’t do anything. The bay is swarming with those things. This shuttle doesn’t have weapons. All we’d be doing is letting the machines get a second shot at us.”

“We were lucky to get out at all,” Hester said, returning to his controls.

Dahl looked back at Kerensky, who was now moaning softly while Duvall and Hanson tended to him.

“I don’t think luck had much to do with it,” he said.

CHAPTER FIVE

“I think I’d like to dispense with the bullshit now,” Dahl said to his lab mates.

The four of them were quiet and looked at each other. “All right, you don’t have to fetch us all coffee anymore,” said Mbeke, finally.

“It’s not about the coffee, Fiona,” Dahl said.

“I know,” Mbeke said. “But I thought it was worth a shot.”

“It’s about your away team experience,” Collins said.

“No,” Dahl said. “It’s about my away team experience, and it’s about the fact all of you disappear whenever Q’eeng shows up, and it’s about the way people move away from him whenever he walks down the corridors, and it’s about that fucking box, and it’s about the fact there’s something very wrong with this ship.”

“All right,” Collins said. “Here’s the deal. Some time ago, it was noticed that there was an extremely high correlation between away teams led by or including certain officers, and crewmen dying. The captain. Commander Q’eeng. Chief Engineer West. Medical Chief Hartnell. Lieutenant Kerensky.”

“And not only about crewmen dying,” Trin said.

“Right,” Collins said. “And other things, too.”

“Like if someone died with Kerensky around, everyone else would be safe if they stuck with him,” Dahl said, remembering McGregor.

“Kerensky’s actually only weakly associated with that effect,” Cassaway said.

Dahl turned to Cassaway. “It’s an effect? You have a name for it?”

“It’s the Sacrificial Effect,” Cassaway said. “It’s strongest with Hartnell and Q’eeng. The captain and Kerensky, not so much. And it doesn’t work at all with West. He’s a goddamn death trap.”

“Things are always exploding around him,” Mbeke said. “Not a good sign for a chief engineer.”

“The fact that people die around these officers is so clear and obvious that everyone naturally avoids them,” Collins said. “If they’re walking through the ship, crew members know to look like they’re in the middle of some very important errand for the crew chief or section head. That’s why everyone’s rushing through the halls whenever they’re around.”

“It doesn’t explain how you all know to get coffee or inspect that storage room whenever Q’eeng is on his way.”

“There’s a tracking system,” Trin said.

“A tracking system?” Dahl said, incredulously.