Chapter 105

Chapter One Hundred Five

When Connor finally woke, he was soaked with sweat. The steam release had killed the spider creatures, and it made chopping down their web strands easier, but that was the only good thing that had happened.

He reeked, not just from the sweat of the night but the woods and the gore. No one could shower, not with the water recycling filters clogged again.

At least the reactor was still functional, still lighting the passageways and cabins and running systems. That was something.

Connor staggered down to the galley, which was thankfully empty.

Empty containers littered the counter around the recycler chute: drinks, food wrappers, spoiled food.

Everything was going to be spoiled before too long.

Someone had left a chocolate-flavored synthcaff can near the front of the chiller. Connor took that. It was barely cooler than body temperature. In the climbing heat, that would feel divine.

The chocolate was strong, the drink sweet. He pulled out a chair and took his time, absorbing the silence of a ship without any recyclers or air circulation.

Sneakers squeaked somewhere down the passageway, then Selen slipped in. Even in her tank top and shorts, perspiration glistened on her. “You look like crap.”

Connor laughed. “I don’t think any of us look good.”

She harrumphed and tromped to the chiller. “Give me some good news.”

“There isn’t any.”

Selen tossed a packet of curry and bean paste sandwich onto the table in front of him, then dropped into the seat opposite him. She had a fruit drink and a vegetable and tofu wrap.

After taking a bite of the wrap, she winced. “Everything’s going bad.”

“I tried to warn you.” He rubbed the bulkhead. “Her luck’s run out.”

“This ship is our ride out of here, Connor. Find a way to get it running.”

He pressed the cool synthcaff can against his forehead. “Those little monsters got into everything but the reactor. We found seven ruptured pipes.”

“They chewed through more pipes?”

“They’re not chewing through them. I thought maybe they were using their lines, injecting whatever their fluids are into the system somehow and letting that clog filters up, but they’re getting sucked in.”

Selen set the wrap on the table. “I saw those things. They’re as big as my fist. You can’t fit something that big into an intake.”

“Some intakes you can. But I think they have some way to get small.”

“Small?” She made a circle with her hand. “This small? That’s what we’re talking about for the intakes.”

“I know. But…” He shrugged. “This place is freakish.”

Her eyes narrowed. “It’s a planet. They’re all different.”

“Have you ever been to a non-terraformed world? Every place I’ve ever been, everything was curated centuries ago. This place is freakish.”

Selen took another bite of the tofu wrap. “I need ideas.”

“All right. We abandon ship.”

“I need reasonable ideas.”

“Well, Elise and I talked about it last night, and here’s what we came up with. There are four ships—if you count the wreck—spread across the nearest couple hundred kilometers. If we spend the next couple days doing serious salvage against each of those ships, there’s a slim chance we could find enough pipes, filters, and pumps to repair the Lucky Sevens.”

“Okay.”

“Then we spend a couple days flushing all the lines again and run some pretty toxic chemicals through just to be sure there aren’t eggs or something hidden in there.”

“Eggs?”

He nodded. “Elise came up with the idea that those things might be able to lay eggs inside the intakes, and that’s how those things are getting into the pipes.”

“I thought you found legs and—”

“It’s an idea. We’re trying to come up with something to explain the impossible.”

Selen sipped her fruit drink. “Fine. Poison the lines, flush them again—”

“And hope that wipes out the infestation. Or we do all that and fumigate the ship. That’s a couple days living inside the Badger. Maybe.”

“Wait—Badger?”

“That’s the name of the armored vehicle. Elise found a reference manual when she was taking her break.”

After a moment of chewing on her lip, Selen took another drink. “And the alternative is…what?”

Connor unwrapped the curry sandwich. “The archaeologist ship.”

“That hunk of junk?”

“It’s in better shape than the Lucky Sevens. We could even get the Badger in there.”

“I don’t like it.”

He scraped bread off his teeth. “Want to hear the plan?”

“No.”

“I take a small team. We head—”

“I said no.”

“—to the ship. We make a quick assessment: Can we clear it? Can we get it running? How long? If it’s less work and lower risk than fixing the Lucky Sevens, we go straight into doing the repair work.”

“It’s a stupid plan.”

Connor finished off the synthcaff. “What’s your idea, then?”

Selen took the last of the tofu wrap up to the recycle chute. When she returned, her nose was still crinkled. “Can’t you get at least the waste recycler working?”

“That’s one of the broken systems.”

“It’s going to stink by the end of the day.”

“We’re going to be so bad, I’m not sure we’ll notice.”

She sniffed at herself. “Fair enough.”

“Is my plan really stupid?”

“No. I just don’t like the idea of leaving my ship behind.”

“I don’t think anyone’s going to plunder her. We get back to civilization, get paid, and come back for her. Well, you do.”

Selen’s head came around. “I told you I don’t have to fire you.”

How would she take him announcing his plan to retire? Connor didn’t think it would go over well. “Whoever you want can come back to reclaim the Lucky Sevens and those other ships. The point is, there’s still money to be recouped. We have to survive, though.”

“You mean abandon the mission.”

“We’re running out of people, Selen.”

“Aubriella was more of a problem than a benefit.”

Connor clamped his mouth shut. Selen would never have talked about one of her team that way just six months ago. She was falling apart to the point he didn’t recognize her sometimes.

She sighed. “Sorry. That was unprofessional.”

“You’re under a lot of stress.”

“So, you take your small team out, and I get everyone else prepared for one more try.”

Connor’s jaw dropped. She wasn’t listening. Fighting her wouldn’t change a thing, he was sure.

He finished off the sandwich. “I’ll take Elise and the twins.”

Selen stretched, then took her drink bottle to the recycler chute. “Don’t wait for tomorrow. Let’s see what we can do today.”

Then she strode out before he could protest.

As if protesting would have done a thing. She intended to finish the mission or die trying.