Re-Coil - J.T. Nicholas Page 0,81
didn’t exactly instill a great sense of security, but better for him to do it than Shay. With the poor adjustment to her coil she was experiencing, the swim through the deep would be tantamount to suicide for her. Not to mention the fact that putting bullets in zombies wasn’t exactly her forte.
“Fine,” I said. Before I could say anything else, the shuttle’s intercom buzzed.
“We’re as close as we’re going to get, folks,” the pilot’s voice said into the suddenly silent ship. “We’ve matched speeds along the only vector that’s remained constant. So far, no response from the vessel.” There was a pause. “Mr. Langston and Mr. Korben to the airlock.”
I drew a breath, held it for a moment and released it in a steadying sigh. I reached out and gave Shay’s hand a quick squeeze and then pushed myself to my feet. Korben had already gained his and stepped into the aisle. Shay, name called by the pilot or not, wasn’t about to wait behind, either. She stood up, and I threw her a questioning glance. “I’m not going to sit here on my ass while you have all the fun. We’re close enough now to start trying to link with the systems on that thing.” She waved one hand vaguely toward the bulkhead, indicating the space beyond. I had enough spatial awareness to realize she was waving in the wrong direction, but the point stood. “If the people in charge of this operation have any sense at all, they’ll sit me down in front of whatever passes for the electronic warfare station on this bird and let me see what I can do.” She looked directly at Korben as she said it. He seemed to consider for a moment, and then gave a quick nod.
We drew more than a few glances from the soldiers—corporate or politic, soldiers were soldiers—seated around us as we made our way forward toward the airlock. The entire mission hinged on us. Okay, mostly on me for the first part, but that was an awful lot of weight to bear. I had no doubt that if Korben and I failed to gain control of the vessel long enough for the muscle to board, Genetechnic would try to solve the short-term problem with a missile salvo, just like they had with the Persephone, for whatever good that would do. Better to roll the dice and hope the missiles took out the AI if there were no other options. But the fallback solution didn’t change the feel of those measuring eyes on us.
My gear was waiting by the outer door to the airlock. “Get ready,” Korben said shortly. Then he turned to Shay. “I’ll take you forward to the cockpit and see if we can’t get you plugged into the ship’s systems.” He gazed at her for a long moment. “I don’t think I need to warn you to keep your digital fingers to yourself, but if you start thinking that this would be a good time to poke around Genetechnic intellectual property, just remember that if we all survive this, Genetechnic’s computer forensics people will be going over this shuttle with a fine-toothed comb.”
Shay grinned, back on familiar territory now. “They’d never find a trace,” she assured the assassin. “But don’t worry. I’ll be plenty busy trying to keep Carter alive. I doubt I’ll have time to look into Genetechnic’s dark corners.” There was a gleam in her eye as she said it though and I suspected that however she might be spending her time, Bit would be putting fresh batteries in its flashlight.
“Of course,” Korben drawled. He sounded like he believed her about as much as I did, but that didn’t stop him from waving her forward.
As they moved toward the bridge, I looked down at my piled gear. There wasn’t much—there couldn’t be on an open swim across the emptiness of space. But what was there could mean the difference between life and death. I did a quick inventory as I picked up each item and secured it to my suit.
Web gear, to help distribute the mass and provide more attachment points to the already well-endowed VaccTech suit. Plasma cutters—twice as many and of a much higher quality than those I’d carried on my last salvage mission—made up most of the raw mass and were evenly distributed along the webbing. Cutting through the hull of a vessel the size of the passenger liner was going to be more difficult than a simple shuttle.