Enigma Ship - J. Steven York [17]
“If you sense anything more, let me know immediately.”
From behind him, the beta-shift tactical officer, Ensign Anthony Shabalala, said, “Captain, there’s a ship approaching, and we’re being hailed. It’s the freighter Vulpecula.”
“Give me visual.”
The woman who appeared on screen was human, in her fifties, and looked like she hadn’t slept in a long time. Her eyes were red-rimmed with fatigue, and her close-cropped gray hair stood out at odd angles.
“Captain Gold, I’ve been expecting you. My name is Dee Rivers, captain of the Vulpecula. After my first officer disappeared, and those people from the Chinook disappeared, I didn’t know what to expect from that thing, so I pulled the ship back a few million kilometers to wait.”
“Thank you for staying on station until we arrived.”
She sighed deeply, and dug at her scalp with nervous fingertips. “Captain, that’s my first officer in there. Pappy’s a damned fool to have tried rescuing those people, but I’d like him back anyway, if you can manage.”
“We’ll do what we can, Captain Rivers.” Pappy? he wondered, but didn’t ask aloud.
“We’re a for-profit ship, Captain. I’ve loitered here longer than I can afford, and certainly longer than was safe. I’ve lost my convoy partner, my Federation escort, and there are a lot of raiders between here and Cardassia. I can’t wait here to see how this turns out, but we’ll stop back by after we drop off our cargo.”
Gold nodded in a manner he hoped was reassuring. “I understand. If necessary, we can arrange transport to return your Number One.”
“He’s my retirement plan, Captain.”
“Excuse me?”
“He’s saving to buy this ship from me, and I’m counting on that to set me up for my declining years, a nice little hut on a beach somewhere. I really need him back.”
“I see.” Gold felt his tone turn chilly.
Rivers had turned away from the screen, as though she was about to disconnect, but turned back to look at him. Her shoulders sagged, and something in her seemed to melt, revealing a profound sadness. “He’s a fool, but a good fool, Captain. Bring him back to us. Please.”
Before Gold could respond to the pain in her voice, Rivers’s image blinked out.
* * *
Duffy pulled the gauntlet over his hand and flexed his fingers experimentally in front of his face. “I love this part.”
Gomez glanced at the panel on her left wrist, punched in the commands to start a space-suit self test, and looked up at Duffy. Like her, he now wore a complete environmental suit, minus the helmet. “Putting on gloves?”
“Putting on a space suit. Makes me feel like an ancient knight preparing for the joust.” He squirmed his shoulders and arms, testing the fit of the suit.
She pointed at the rack in the locker room wall behind him. “Excuse me, Sir Talks-a-Lot, but you’re standing between the fair maiden and her lovely helmet.”
He stepped aside as she plucked two helmets from the rack, handing one to him, and putting the other over her head, twisting it until the molecular seals engaged. She tapped the wrist panel again. “You hear me, Kieran?”
“Loud and clear, milady.”
She tapped again. “Gomez to Soloman. Communications check.”
“I—” Soloman seemed distracted, but not, as she had feared, distressed. “I hear you well, Commander. My module is checked out and ready to fly—I believe.”
Just then, P8 Blue scuttled through the outer door into the locker room. She stood up on her hind legs, and made an annoyed clicking noise. “Aren’t you ready yet? It must be very bothersome being so sensitive to vacuum.”
Pattie’s exoskeleton allowed her to endure vacuum with no special gear. All she needed was a special communicator with a pickup inside her breathing cavity, some safety gear, and she was ready to go.
Gomez grinned. “Not according to Lt. Commander Duffy. He likes the outfit.”
That annoyed sound again. “Clothing, also something I find difficult to fathom.” She strapped