The Aftermath

beside him, an arm’s length away, the five other members of his crew hovering around them.

“Go back to your own ship while you can,” he heard Victor’s voice in his suit’s radio speaker. “You can have Hunter and Syracuse. Leave us alone.”

“You’re willing to give us two ships that are gonna mangle each other while you take the one that’s in perfect condition?” Valker shot back. “A sweet deal—for you.”

“Go back to your own ship,” Dorn said. “My next shot will kill you.”

Valker heard the cyborg’s threat, as calmly unemotional as an ocean wave surging onto the shore.

“I thought you were a priest,” he shot back.

“Don’t push me,” Dorn said. “The killer inside me can break through and cause havoc.”

The airlock of Pleiades was close enough for Valker to clearly make out the two men standing inside its open hatch. One of them—the cyborg, he guessed—was holding a pistol rock steady in both hands.

He’s pointing it straight at me, Valker realized. One puncture of this suit and I’m a dead man. The freak’s right: we’re exposed out here. He could kill four or five of us before we got to the hatch.

“All right,” he said, fingering his jetpack controls. “All right. You win. For now.”

Kirk growled, “You’re gonna let them go?”

Valker made a toothy grin for Kirk. “You want to go in and be a hero? Go right ahead. Be my guest.”

But Kirk had slowed down, too. All seven of the scavengers hovered in the emptiness, close enough to Pleiades almost to touch it, while Dorn stood inside the airlock with that one pistol locked in his unwavering hands.

“A whole fucking ship!” Kirk whined.

“You gotta know when to fold your tent, boys,” said Valker, “and silently steal away.”

With enormous reluctance, the scavengers started back toward Vogeltod, which now was separated from Syracuse and slowly edging farther away from it.

“We’ll get them,” Valker assured his men. “Once we’re back in Vogeltod, we’ll power up and—”

“And chase us all the way back to Ceres,” Victor’s voice cut in. “Good. Do that. I’m sure the rock rats will be glad to see you, after what we’ll tell them about you.”

Valker scowled and started to reply, “Oh yeah, well you just might—”

“Hey!” Kirk yelled. “They’re gonna hit!”

* * *

As Theo ducked through the hatch of Pleiades’s bridge, still awkward in the clumsy hard suit, he saw Angie—also in her hard shell—sitting at the command chair, his mother and the elderly sculptress on either side of her.

Lifting off his bubble helmet as he went to the command console, Theo said, “Dad wants me to—”

“I think I’ve got it all set up, Thee,” Angela said happily. “All I’ve got to do now is press this key, the one that says ‘ignition.’ ”

Theo swiftly scanned the electronic keyboard. “I think you’re right, Angie. I think you’ve done it.”

“So let’s light the fusion torch and get out of here,” Angela said.

Theo glanced up at the main screen. “Oh, for the love of god— they’re going to crash!”

They all stared at the screen as Hunter slowly, inexorably, plowed into Syracuse. In the vacuum of space there was no noise, but Theo saw the two ships smash together in a rending, pulverizing collision that tore both ships into mangled shards of metal.

That was our home, Theo realized. He saw Syracuse tear apart, whole sections of its wheel-shaped structure ripping loose, the tube-tunnels where he went diving as a kid breaking apart, pipes and pumps from the cranky old water recycler flung into space, a shape that looked like the old sofa from their living quarters spinning end over end.

“It’s gone,” Pauline whispered. “Our home… it’s gone.”

“Hunter, too,” said Elverda Apacheta, her voice almost reverent. “Dorn will never finish his quest now.”

“But we’re here,” Theo said. “We’re alive and we’re safe.”

“And we’re heading for Ceres,” Angela added, pressing her forefinger on the ignition key.

Pleiades surged into acceleration as its fusion torch drive lit up.

HABITAT CHRYSALIS II: COUNCIL CHAIRMAN’S OFFICE

Big George Ambrose sat behind his desk like a smoldering red-haired volcano. The unpretentious office seemed crowded to Theo, with his parents and sister, Dorn and the sculptress taking up every available chair.

“There’s nothing illegal with salvaging,” George said guardedly, after listening to their story.

Victor had shaved his beard and looked more normal, Theo thought. Grayer, his face thinner, but now he looked like the father Theo remembered.

“Nothing illegal with salvage,” Victor agreed. “But when you seize ships that are occupied by their rightful owners, that’s not salvage. It’s piracy. And murder.”

George frowned.

“They would have murdered my wife and daughter,” Victor continued. “After raping them.”

“They did try to kill me,” said Theo. “Dorn and Ms. Apacheta saved my life.”

“I guess we’ll have to go after ’em, then,” Big George muttered, clearly unhappy.

“They can’t have gone far,” Victor said. “They’ll have to stop for fuel sooner or later.”

“We don’t have a military force, y’know,” George grumbled. “Never needed a fookin’ army until that bastard wiped out the old habitat.”

Dorn slowly rose to his feet. “That bastard was me.”

George’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“I was Dorik Harbin. I attacked Chrysalis. I also attacked these people’s ship, Syracuse.”

“That was another person,” Elverda said quickly. “He’s not the same man.”

But George got up from his desk chair, seething. “You’re Dorik Harbin?”

“I was.”

“You wiped out Chrysalis? Killed more’n a thousand helpless people?”

“I did.”

Moving swiftly around the desk, George reached for Dorn. “I’ll break your fookin’ back!”

Everyone seemed frozen by Big George’s sudden rage. Except Theo, who pushed between George and Dorn and laid both his hands on George’s chest.

“Leave him alone!” Theo snapped. “He saved my life.”

George snorted like a dragon. Fire blazed from his eyes. He grabbed Theo by the front of his coveralls, lifted him off his feet with one hand and tossed him onto the desk top with a painful thud.

“Stop!” Victor shouted, going to his son. “You’ll be just as bad as he was.”

Dorn remained as unmoved as a rock. George wrapped his big hands around the cyborg’s neck. “You bastard!” he shouted. “You bloody bastard!”

Elverda pushed herself up from her chair and slapped at George’s beefy arm. “Don’t you dare!” she snapped. “You leave him alone!”

Big George blinked at her, his expression suddenly changing into a naughty little boy’s, confronted with an angry schoolteacher. His arms dropped to his sides.

Elverda waved a finger in George’s face. “He’s tried to atone for what he did. He’s a changed man. Don’t you dare hurt him.”