The Lost Ship of the Tucker Rebellion - Marie Sexton Page 0,93
of places they weren’t supposed to,” Laramie offered. “Or so I’ve heard. C’mon, let’s get your body tethered.” He left the cockpit, but Marit and Spence stayed behind. A few minutes later, Laramie’s voice filled Denver’s head.
“Got it.” A moment later, OPAL’s bright, silvery body twirled into the Jiminy’s floodlight, heading straight for the Legacy and trailing a barely visible tether back to the ship. “There she goes.” He tapped the comm. “You listening, OPAL?”
“I am all ears. Except for my eight legs. And my thorax. And my headpiece. On second thought, I suppose I am, in fact, only 0.7 percent ears.”
Denver smiled. “Well, keep in contact, okay? Let us know what you find. We might not be able to see you the whole time.”
“I will be all mouths.”
“That’s kind of a creepy thought,” Laramie muttered as he rejoined them. “I told Gru and Treesa we’d found the ship. Gru was spectacularly unenthusiastic. And Treesa said just because she’ll be living on it doesn’t mean she needs to see it.”
Spence laughed. “Sounds about right.”
“What about Ginn?” Marit asked. “Should we let her know?”
“Fuck her,” Laramie said. “If I have things my way, she won’t be coming along on our little adventure, so I don’t give a good goddamn if she never lays eyes on our new ship.” He pointed at the console. “Denver, why’s the comm light blinking?”
“Because I’ve got a bunch of impatient station-dwellers riding my ass about whether or not we’re sharing enough information with them. Might as well give them a look.” Denver turned on the group link, bringing the faces of all the captains to his screen. Unfortunately, they were already talking.
“What does it—”
“Are you—”
“I demand to—”
Without saying a word, Denver flicked on the camera link, and every person fell satisfyingly silent. Dusty was the first to regain her powers of speech.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Plenty big too,” Houck added. “Wonder how much of that is crew quarters and how much is cargo space. Be nice if we could fit some of ships in there.”
“It would,” Denver agreed. “Especially since we don’t know what the shuttle situation is on board. Hopefully we’ll know soon. My bot’s over there checking things out right now, trying to find a way in.”
“Your bot?” Zahn sounded annoyed. “Why didn’t you go yourself?”
“OPAL has all the necessary codes on her hard drive. If she can’t get in, there’s no way I’d be able to.”
“How long will this take?”
Denver sighed. “Well, seeing as how this is the first time I, or you, or any human that I know of has ever seen one of these ships before, I think the safest answer is it’s going to take as long as it takes. Unless you know something I don’t.”
Zahn narrowed his eyes. “I don’t appreciate your tone, Captain. And I’m growing weary of you acting like some kind of reckless space cowboy.”
“Some people call him Maurice,” OPAL said suddenly, over the comm. “And some call him the gangster of love.”
Denver blinked, as if that could make the words more sensible. He felt Laramie’s matching puzzlement. On the bright side, OPAL’s strange outburst seemed to have shut Zahn up.
“Why would anybody call Denver Maurice?” Laramie asked.
“That’s the one you’re curious about?” Marit asked, laughing. “Not the ‘gangster of love’ thing?”
Denver shook his head. “OPAL, you’re being weird, even for you. Maybe concentrate on the problem at hand.”
“Yes, Denver.” Then, a moment later: “I’ve reached the ship. I will attempt to find an airlock.”
They all waited. It felt like ages but could only have been a few minutes before they heard from OPAL again.
“I have found an airlock. It has accepted the validation codes.”
Denver held his breath.
“I am now inside the Legacy.”
A cheer went up, not only in the Jiminy’s cockpit, but in the other ships, their glee carried by the comms.
“Maybe things are actually working in our favor,” Denver said. “Good work, OPAL. How does it look?”
“Dark.”
Denver waited for more, but OPAL didn’t elaborate. “Okay…”
“I’ve located a data access point.”
“One you can use?” Laramie asked, puzzled. “On a Li’Vin ship?”
“It appears to have been modified to accommodate bots of the twenty-third century. Luckily, my current body is equipped with a—”
“Got it,” Laramie said, chuckling and shaking his head. “Forget I asked. Plug in and tell us what you find.”
Again, the seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness.
Finally, OPAL spoke again. “I’ve gained access to the first level of ship