Chapter 70

Chapter Seventy

Connor finished his second mug of synthcaff and set the cup on the table at his side. His gut burned, protesting after having so much of the hot, bitter fluid dumped in so quickly. The bigger problem for his stomach was the acid and the caffeine.

Well, and the fact that he hadn’t had a chance to eat since…too long ago.

Add to that the air recycling system was offline, and the whole ship was as miserably humid and hot as the jungle and its stench was in everything.

Selen leaned against the entry to the galley, arms crossed. It was just the two of them now—sweaty and frazzled.

With the environmental systems offline, their breathing was audible.

She bowed her head. “So, one of the lizards managed to punch a hole in the outer skin. It’s not that big of a deal.”

What else could he do but sigh? “If they couldn’t penetrate the airlock—”

“Then it was one of those bugs. It flew up high enough and dropped something that punched through.”

“And had enough energy left over to penetrate a high-pressure pipe.”

She threw her arms up in exasperation. “Don’t make a drama out of this.”

“A drama?” He pushed up and set the mug in the recycler. “Selen, we just had another hull rupture. Two in the space of a couple weeks. We usually go years without one. And we have no idea how either one happened.”

“Accidents happen in bunches. You know that.”

“Fine. We still need to understand what happened. Without that, we can’t know if it’ll happen again.”

“That’s not our priority.”

It never was. But this time, Selen was right.

Connor leaned against the countertop. “We don’t have the parts to fix the atmospheric system.”

“A pipe? We have plenty of spare pipe.”

“It’s not the pipe. When it let all that steam out, the filters were compromised. There was a back flow without the pressure.”

“So clean them.”

“Cleaning won’t fix the damage.”

Selen snorted. “And I suppose this isn’t Drew’s fault?”

He wasn’t going to take the bait. Selen had been spoiling for a fight, looking for a way to pin the blame for everything on the dead engineer. There was no rhyme or reason to it no, but that didn’t stop Selen.

Connor shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Maybe Mosiah has an idea.”

“Mosiah?”

“He came here before. Maybe his buddies threw out some parts that we could scavenge.”

“That was more than thirty years ago. Something couldn’t last thirty days on this planet.”

“I’m not an engineer. I can poke through the systems to see if there’s a solution, but I don’t have answers right now.”

She sauntered over to him and took his head in her hands. “I know.”

The look in her eyes…pity?

He didn’t have the energy to push her away. Thankfully, she stopped short of kissing him. “I need some sleep.”

“We all do.”

“What about…?” He bit his lip. It didn’t feel right to say what was on his lips.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Connor, we have to explore every option. If you have an idea…”

“When we were flying here, Martienne was scanning for the landing site. She scanned for any landing site.”

“And?”

He shrugged. “We should still have those sensor records. Maybe there are other ships down here.” Like the ones Gregor claimed disappeared.

Selen turned away. “You want me to wake Martienne?”

“Or restore my security profile, and I’ll do the work.”

“I tried. Something’s corrupted.”

“What? How could—”

Selen whipped around. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“No. I was just asking how something could corrupt my profile.”

“It’s not just your profile. A lot of things are damaged. There must have been a power surge.” Selen’s shoulders hunched. “I know you don’t want to blame Drew, but it was convenient that it all happened while she was doing work.”

Connor drove his hands deeper in his pockets. “So that leaves Martienne.”

“She should be okay. Lem said it was mostly blood loss.”

They headed down the passageway to the infirmary, where Lem was busily cleaning.

The android smiled. “You two look terrible.”

Selen scowled and jerked her head toward Martienne. “Have her come to the bridge.”

“Now?”

“Would it kill her to wake her?”

“No, but—”

“The bridge.” Selen waved for Connor to follow her.

Their steps echoed in the empty passageway and then inside the ladder tube as the climbed to the top deck. The noise filled the jungle-thick air until they were seated at their stations on the bride.

Connor found himself wondering if Gregor really could handle computer security. Would he be able to restore the corrupted profile?

Or maybe he could download the integrated combat system data.

Selen swung her chair in a narrow arc until Martienne came through the bridge hatch. There was a determined tightness to the pilot’s jaw until she lowered herself into her seat. “Lem said that I am needed.”

Connor sat up. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

The shook her head. “The problem—what is it?”

“We need spare parts for the atmospheric recycling system.”

Martienne sniffed the air. “This explains much. You want me to review sensor data?” She leaned over her console and powered it on.

“Please.” How had she known?

“You are thinking Gregor’s ghost ships, they are down here.”

“Any ship would do.”

The pilot hooked a finger, calling Connor forward, then pointed at the console display. “The other landing site, you remember?”

“Yes.”

“There is more to it. Dangerous.” Martienne drilled down, revealing a larger, lower area. “You see?”

Connor did see: Three ship silhouettes stood out. “Wrecks?”

“Whatever they are, I had no intention of risking the Lucky Sevens.”

Before Connor could point out to Selen how big of a problem this was, She held a finger up to silence him. She had her computer in front of her. “Mosiah?”

“Yes?” The old man’s voice was loud and clear.

“My pilot informs me that at the landing coordinates you originally gave her, there are three ships. Can you explain that?” Selen narrowed her eyes, but she wasn’t looking at the computer screen; she was looking at Connor.

As if it were all his fault.

But he hadn’t known. Martienne had never mentioned the ships.

Mosiah drew in a deep breath. “Well, yes. Two of them.”

Selen blinked, surprised. “Two.”

“Our original landing wasn’t without its challenges. Two of our ships experienced significant problems and had to be abandoned.”

“And you didn’t think to mention that?”

“Is there some relevance to our current predicament? Those ships are old. They failed years ago.”

“Thank you, Mosiah.” Selen disconnected and stuffed the device in her pants pocket.

Connor swallowed. “What about this other ship?”

“He said two—you heard him.” But the look on Selen’s face was hard.

Her trust in Mosiah had never been strong. Now she seemed unsure about Martienne.

And me, Connor thought.

But one positive rose out of this new discovery, something no one else seemed to be considering.

There might be someone else on the planet. They might have a way off.