The Aftermath

Alex tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her face. “You will?”

“Anything,” she whispered.

He stepped into the hotel room with her and pushed the door shut. She realized that this man was his father’s clone, after all.

CARGO SHIP PLEIADES: BRIDGE

“You’re talking to yourself,” Victor Zacharias muttered. “That’s not a good sign.”

So who else do I have to talk to? he asked silently. I’m a wanted thief in Ceres, I can’t chat with anyone there.

He got up from the command chair and strode the four paces it took to go from one end of the bridge to the other. Then back again. Maybe I should go to the gym, work up a sweat. Instead he returned to the command chair and turned on the comm console.

He scanned the news channels constantly, desperately hoping for some word about Syracuse. For months he had plotted possible trajectories for his ship, paths through the Belt that were based on little more than guesswork. I don’t have a firm fix on what her position was when I left the ship, and I have no idea of what Pauline might have done with the propulsion fuel we had left in the tanks. Or how much fuel was left. Or how she might try to swing into a trajectory that’ll bring them back toward Ceres.

It was madness to attempt to calculate where Syracuse might be, but it was a madness that kept Victor sane. Otherwise he would be cruising blindly through the Belt, a single ship trying to find another speck of a ship in the enormous vast emptiness.

His dreams were racked with nightmares. He saw one disaster after another: The ship struck by an asteroid that ripped her apart, Pauline and the kids flung into the vacuum, their eyes bursting from their heads, their screams piercing his skull. Or drifting out to Jupiter, the ship’s systems failing one by one, dying of hunger, of thirst, suffocating as the air recyclers failed and they all choked to death, emaciated and helpless.

The broadcasts from Ceres were strictly utilitarian, traffic reports for the most part. No word of a lost ship found, no word of his wife and children saved.

Still he listened. And watched the broadcasts from Earth and the Moon. And checked the frequency that Syracuse would use to beam out its beacon and telemetry data.

“Maybe Theo’s fixed the antennas,” he hoped aloud. “Maybe they’re signaling for help.”

Nothing. Only the crackle of interference from the depths of space. No word from his lost family.

* * *

“I’m going to have to stay in the storm cellar?” Angela complained.

She had changed into strictly utilitarian coveralls, but still Theo noticed how well his sister’s body filled the gray jumpsuit. As he pulled the heavy hatch open, Theo said, “Seal this hatch once you’re inside. Don’t open it for anybody, understand?”

“Just because Mom’s afraid—”

“Stuff it!” Theo snapped. “Mom’s got a right to be afraid and if you had any sense you’d be scared out of your skull.”

Angela fell silent.

“Ten men who haven’t seen a woman in who knows how long,” Theo went on. “You want to be gang- raped?”

“Theo!”

“That’s what they’ll do, Angie.”

“That nice Captain Valker wouldn’t let them hurt me.” But she stepped inside the cramped radiation shelter.

“Valker would be first in line.”

“That’s crazy, Thee.”

“Listen to me,” he said. “There’s food and water in here. You can stay here for a week if you have to. Seal the hatch and don’t open it for anybody. Not until I knock on it like this.” And he rapped his knuckles on the hatch’s metal face three times in rapid succession, then a second’s pause, then three more quick raps.

“Got it? One-two-three, wait, one-two-three.”

“Like a waltz,” Angela said.

“A waltz? Yeah, I guess maybe it is.” Theo ducked down a bit to survey the interior of the metal-walled shelter. Cabinets stocked with supplies, food freezer and microwave, water tank half full.

“That’s it, then,” he said at last. “You’ll be okay in here until we get rid of Valker and his crew.” Silently he added, I hope.

* * *

Pauline was in the command pod, fretting about the irony of the situation. We’re found by a gang of scavengers, she said to herself. I suppose that’s only to be expected. Who else would find a damaged ship drifting through the Belt?

But the way that man stared at Angela. And she enjoyed his attention! She’s letting her hormones do her thinking for her. I’ve got to protect her. And Theo too. They’ll murder Thee if they think he’s getting in their way.

How can I pull us through this? How can I get them to repair the ship without hurting us? Without killing us? Valker said they’re salvage operators; that means they want our ship. But to get it…

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to blot out the vision that she foresaw. They’ll kill us all. But only after they’ve had their fun with Angie and me. Maybe even with Thee. Then they’ll take Syracuse back to Ceres and sell her for salvage. Or scrap, more likely.

One teenaged boy and two women against ten scavengers. Angie’s out of their sight but they can find her easily enough if they want to. And poor Thee, they’ll kill him right off if he tries to fight them.

What can I do? Pauline asked herself again and again. How can I stop them?

Valker, she thought. He’s their captain, their leader. He can control them, maybe. If I can control him.

SALVAGE SHIP VOGELTOD: AIRLOCK

“I don’t get it,” said Kirk, almost in a snarl. “Why don’t we just go over there and take that ship? Push the kid out an airlock and screw the two women until our cocks fall off.”

Nicco, standing beside Kirk, laughed and agreed. “Yeah, why not?”

Valker smiled benignly at his two crewmen. “Because I say we’re not going to do it that way, that’s why.”

“If we put it to a vote the crew would go my way,” Kirk retorted.

“Now listen,” said Valker, planting his fists on his hips. “I don’t pull rank often, but I am the captain of this woebegone crew and you’ll follow my orders.”

“Why should we?”

“Because I say so. That ore bucket will fetch us a decent price back at Ceres, but once we show up with her in tow what’s the first thing the rock rats’ inspectors will ask?”

Before either Kirk or Nicco could reply, Valker answered his own question. “What happened to the owners?”