The corridor they followed led to another set of steps, which opened into a gallery. The room was vacant, with only a large, clear, polymer viewing window – exceedingly thick, as he could see it reflecting itself like multifaceted crystal – overhead. Each octagonal section was spaced with the metal used throughout the ship to add strength to the structure.
“Coming?” Maverick’s amused voice propelled Sawyer up a final flight of stairs to the bridge area.
A set of circular stairs at his left – littered with Wil’s tools and unused parts – rested just before the opened, bulkhead of the bridge. Carl sat in one of a pair of pilot chairs, motioning for Maverick to join him in the other. Sawyer stepped past the Captain’s chair – back and between the pilot consoles – as Wil descended the staircase, ignoring all he displaced in his haste.
“Done!” Wil held up his hands in victory as he entered the bridge. “Forty-two minutes; beat that, Crazy Carl!”
“Seriously?”
Maverick’s doubtful question drew a glare from Wil, but his eyes lit as Carl glanced back with a disoriented look on his face. “Hear that, ya old koot? I can make her fire!”
“I can make her fly.”
“What?” Wil’s excitement disappeared in an instant. “Really?”
“Only one certainty; action.” Carl pressed the ignition.
The ship shuddered to life with a pop and crackle, her systems flashing red before settling into the bright colored instrument panels surrounding the bridge. Sawyer was amazed at the familiar systems lighting around him, resembling those of shuttles and transports. Maverick and Carl each sat at their respective stations, working in unison to turn on the remaining unlit dials; the overhead, wall, and floor lights; and bring the final systems online. The hum of the engine grew calm and stable, a soothing purr of pleasure at being reanimated.
“That’s it,” Carl’s voice shuddered as he stood up from his seat in slow motion. “She can fly.”
“Show off,” Wil chuckled as he looked around the bridge, his head shaking slowly in wonder. He turned his gaze to Carl and smiled widely, “why do you have to one up me? I fix a weapon’s operation panel and you fix the whole damn ship!”
“Maybe,” Sawyer warned caution in making such definite claims. “She’s been grounded for a long time.”
“She will fly,” Carl turned in a circle to survey the bridge; “ANA, diagnostic report.”
A disjointed, feminine voice crackled before launching into a lengthy report of system names and percentages. “What is that?” Wil asked softly.
“ANA: Automated Navigation Assistant; she still needs some work, but I’ve got her functioning enough to relate basic information.” Maverick’s pride in his accomplishment shone in his gray eyes.
“You made that?” Sawyer asked in shock.
“The program was already in the Anastasis’s databanks; she was originally programed to keep track of star charts and maintain autopilot systems. I just tweaked her program a bit to expand her control over the ship and uploaded her to the intercom system.”
“I never knew you could do all of that, turd.” Wil commented and nodded appreciatively.
“ANA, time to full charge of thrusters.” Carl continued to question the system.
“Time approximation is twelve hours.” ANA’s robotic voice crushed any hope Sawyer held of escape, the thought shared by Wil’s sudden severity as he turned to clear the steps he’d cluttered.
“Can she tell us how long until dawn?” Sawyer’s depression consumed him as he recognized the time had come to tell Maverick the truth of their fate.
“Sunrise will occur in approximately forty-five minutes.” ANA answered Sawyer’s question without further prompting.
“Why? What happens at dawn?” Maverick asked.
“They’re going to use the TSS canon.” Carl spoke a statement, but Sawyer confirmed with a nod. “If the Anastasis survives the blast, the resulting electromagnetic pulse will destroy her systems.”
“What? Why would they do that?” Maverick’s eyes were wide and terrified.
“To protect their new settlements.” Wil’s lip curled in disgust.
“From what?” Maverick asked.
“From us.” Sawyer’s comment sparked a flame in Maverick’s eyes.
“Were you going to tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you.” Sawyer excused his omission softly.
“You, didn’t want to,” Maverick growled in frustration. “You, idiot! If you’d told me before, maybe we could have worked up a better plan! We could have started evacuating people hours ago! How are we supposed to evacuate an entire settlement in forty-five minutes?” Maverick’s expression calmed, his body shuddering into an odd stillness. “You never intended to rescue anyone. You were going to run.”
“There is no plan, Mav; to run or otherwise.” Sawyer shook his head. “I never imagined this old wreck would fly.”
“So, because you didn’t believe it was possible, all those people out there are going to die.”
“Listen, turd.” Wil spoke from the doorway, but stopped at Sawyer’s raised hand and slight shake of his head. His face registered understanding of Sawyer’s intent; Sawyer would take his brother’s hate if it meant he never knew the fate of their neighbors.
“The
