Four
1239 Words
Four
Brice got no response. He tried telling himself the dampness beneath his hand was just sweat, but he’d never been good at lying to himself.
He closed his eyes, the misty green after-image in his lenses fading to a washed-out black.
It was Keelin. She sounded fraught.
That was Tris, although the words made little sense to Brice. He guessed it was to do with calling Haven.
Brice swore under his breath, and shouted back at her.
He connected to the sensors within the hatch. At first they slipped from his grip, but he focused and held them, zooming into the monochrome image. The water—and he couldn’t pretend it was anything else now—flowed with mercurial slivers from outer to inner hatch. And where it started there was a kink in the metal. It was the slightest of misalignments, but it was enough.
What the hell?
What was the point of sending him back here and then ignoring what he said?
Keelin sussed.
Brice felt a chill run through him. And something dropped onto his head.
He looked up, moving his hand across to the edge of the inner hatch. Liquid ran towards his finger, pooling until it could no longer support its own weight, and then it fell, landing on his cheek like an icy pin-prick.
The words flowed through Brice, but there was more, in the background, from two other voices.
Images burst into Brice’s mind, a series of maps and stills that blurred into a meaningless grey.
Cathal asked.
He shouldn’t be hearing this. Although he was receiving wide, this conversation was private. He shouldn’t be able to eavesdrop.
Brice held himself rigid, not sure if he wanted to hear this.
What did that mean?
There was a lull, and then Ryann came back.
That meant absolutely nothing to Brice.
Another drop of water landed on his forehead.
he yelled.
There was no response. He heard more technobabble between Keelin and Tris, like they were talking in another language. There was something about hull integrity, and they both sounded worried.
Brice considered sussing again, but what was the point? They couldn’t hear him. It was like he existed in his own bubble back here.
That must be it. With the Proteus running on emergency power, and all its systems playing up, there must be interference. The craft itself was blocking his messages.
Brice returned to the bridge, trying to ignore the obvious—if they couldn’t hear him, how could he hear them?
“Welcome back, Brice. Pleasant break?”
Brice kept his voice level, countering the sarcasm. “We’ve got a breach.”
That got their attention. Keelin spun in her chair, and Cathal looked round with one eye c****d. Even Tris turned.
“Main hatch. Possibly damage to the outer door, and water’s pooling. It’s starting to seep through the inner door.”
Keelin’s eyes glazed over for a second. “Of course,” she said to herself, and her shoulders sagged.
“How serious?” Cathal turned to his pilot.
“Getting readings. Don’t want to pull power from core functions.”
“We’re not going to have those core functions if it’s flooded,” Brice said.
“Bit of water won’t hurt it,” said Tris, and Brice caught his sneer.
“Maybe. How long can you hold your breath?”
This came from Ryann, and Brice didn’t know if it was wide, or targeted just to himself and Tris. But he nodded. She was right. This wasn’t the time for the tech-monkey to get all superior.
“Keelin?” Cathal asked.
“Data now in. Situation serious, but not dire. The flow is increasing, and the breach widening. At current rates, the hatch will fill in twenty minutes, and increased pressure will widen the gap in the inner door. Rough estimate, forty to fifty minutes before we’re swimming.”
“So under an hour of air left.”
“Going on current data, yes.”
“And power? That going to get back up any time soon?”
Brice saw Keelin hesitate, and turn to Tris, who shrugged.
“Seems unlikely.”
Brice took in a breath and held it before releasing. He felt the twin thuds of his heartbeat, and he suppressed the release of adrenaline. He didn’t need that yet.
Cathal brought a hand up to his chin with the sandpaper rustle of skin over bristles.
“Keelin, open prediction—what can we expect from the Proteus?”
Keelin shook her head. “I’ve never seen her like this. She needs help, more than I can give her. Without that, she’ll slip into deep sleep. Maybe a few hours, maybe a couple of minutes.”
“I thought these things were tough?” Brice fought to control his anger. “Aren’t they supposed to be able to withstand just about anything? What about all that crap about how they’re tested in lava and zero atmospheres, and flown at mountainsides to make sure they survive? A tumble down a waterfall should be nothing.”
He felt Ryann’s eyes on him, but he kept his own on Keelin. Unfair, he knew, but he needed a focus. And she met his gaze with coldness.
“It should be. But the systems are electrical at core. A lightning strike can play havoc with that.”
“And they didn’t think to protect against that?”
“They did! When this baby came off the production line, she was perfect. But she’s old. You know how it goes. You know how the company cuts corners.”
“So we’re screwed because some bean counter didn’t want to spend too much?”
“What, you think you’re worth anything to Kaiahive?” She spat out the company’s name.
“That’s enough!” Ryann held a hand out, a thin barrier between Brice and Keelin. It was enough to make him take a step back.
“That’s life,” Cathal said. “Get used to it. They make the decisions, we cope with the fall-out. That’s what they pay us for.” He looked from Brice to Keelin and back again. “Or are you only doing this for the thrill of it?”
Brice didn’t need to answer. Nor did Keelin. Cathal continued.
“Situation’s this. Lightning screwed up our Proteus, and we’re taking on water. Storm’s worsening, and it’s already dark enough for night. We need to exit, and we need to be prepared. Ryann, take Brice and sort out kit. Tris, you work with Keelin.”
Tris nodded, and swallowed.
“Tell me,” Cathal said. “Tell me what we need to do.”
Brice knew. They all did. It was part of the training, but nobody expected to have to use it for real.
Tris avoided everyone’s eyes as he spoke. “We need to flood the Proteus.”
- Writer
