The Good That Men Do - Andy Mangels [118]
But could this battered little ship produce enough speed to evade Valdore successfully? Trip knew that he needed to do everything possible to make certain that she could- before he got her off the ground, and onto any of Admiral Valdore’s sensors.
Or weapons locks. With that alarming thought, Trip rose from the pilot’s seat, his hope and fear confronting each other like opposing armies. The vessel shuddered and rocked slightly, as though something had just exploded violently elsewhere inside the Ejhoi Ormiin complex, perhaps not far from the hangar. If I’m going to get Ehrehin out of here and keep him away from Valdore, I’ll have to be ready to divert every last millicochrane of power this tub can produce.
And some of that just might have to come from life support, Trip thought, experiencing a chill at that moment that reminded him uncomfortably of the icy cold of space.
“Where are you going?” Ehrehin called to Cunaehr’s retreating back. He hadn’t expected his assistant to leap up at the precise moment the ship needed to get under way. They hadn’t even opened the main hangar bay yet in preparation for launch.
“I thought I passed some equipment lockers on the way to the cockpit,” Cunaehr said over his shoulder just before disappearing into an accessway located near the middle of the vessel. The ship rocked yet again, and an ominous rumble was faintly audible through the hull plates. Ehrehin wondered if Cunaehr hadn’t been far too correct earlier in voicing his worries that Valdore’s forces might kill them both entirely by accident.
How very strange, Ehrehin thought, feeling his apprehension slowly increase the longer Cunaehr was out of his sight.
After a seeming eternity passed, Cunaehr returned, awkwardly carrying a helmet and chestplate in each hand. What appeared to be a pair of heavy, rust-and-silver-colored garments, each of which had clumsylooking boots and gloves attached, were draped over each of his broad shoulders.
“Pressure suits?” Ehrehin said, frowning. “Cunaehr, why are you wasting our time with those?”
Cunaehr appeared more uncomfortable than he had since he’d been one of Ehrehin’s callow young graduate students taking his final exams back at the Bardat Academy on Romulus. “I didn’t like the look of the life-support system readings, Doctor. We need to suit up as a precaution before we launch.”
Ehrehin felt his frown deepening involuntarily. “I didn’t notice anything wrong with the environmental systems.” On the other hand, the old man knew that his vision was no longer what it used to be….
“Please trust me, Doctor. This is for your safety more than mine. I’ll help you get suited up quickly.” Cunaehr had begun donning his own suit, getting into it with surprising ease and grace, as though he’d had a good deal of practice. That, too, struck Ehrehin as very strange.
“We’ll check each other’s seals and connections to make sure everything is working properly,” said Cunaehr. “Then we’ll strap in and take off.”
Ehrehin reluctantly accepted the main tunic piece of one of the two suits. He reflected that Cunaehr had never given him any cause to seriously doubt his judgment before- not even when the younger man actually had been a callow young graduate student nervously taking his exams at Bardat. Besides, hadn’t he always taught the lad that a good, cautious engineer always wore both a good, stout daefv sash and heavy fvalo-straps if he wanted to make certain that his trousers stayed up?
“Very well, Cunaehr,” the old man said at length, then began slowly donning the oddly alien-looking pressure suit the younger man had handed him. As he worked his way into the suit with Cunaehr’s gentle assistance, Ehrehin noticed that a gauge on the copilot’s console was announcing with a cool,