The new guy was younger than Jake and seemed greener, if that was possible. Jake had been told his name, but like the rest of the compartment called him “the new guy.”

  “So, where are we going next?” asked the new guy.

  “Don’t know, don’t care,” Jake said. “We’ll be back at Transfer-3 in a few days.” He leaned back in his bunk. He had managed to purchase a cheap portable entertainment unit on one of the stations. It wasn’t much, but it played music and video.

  “What are you watching?” the new guy asked.

  “An operation manual on how to fix airlock electronics.”

  “Why do you need that?”

  “I don’t need it, but I used to work on a station. We had locks like this. It’s always good to know how to fix things.”

  “Why are you working here now, Jake?”

  He ignored the question, so the new guy kept talking.

  “I’m here because my stepdad told me to beat it. He said he and my mom could feed two kids, not three, and it was time for me to find a new job.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “This isn’t a great job, but it’s a start, right?”

  “Sure. A start.” Jake rewound his screen. How did you connect the atmosphere sensors again? He hadn’t quite got it.

  “I’ll take the money I save from this trip and buy a new suit, so they won’t have to rent me one again.”

  “You know they charge you for the suit, right?”

  “I know,” the new guy said. “It was a lot. But I’ve got a deal on a used one at a rerun store—I just need a couple hundred other credits to buy one, and then they won’t charge me.”

  “A couple hundred credits will get you a good skin suit? I don’t think so,” Jake said.

  “It’s old, but it still works.”

  “Buying used equipment will get you killed. Did you ever stop to consider why somebody sold that suit to start with? What’s it doing in the store? Probably the life support failed and killed the old owner.”

  “Maybe. But I have to start somewhere, right?”

  “Sure,” said Jake.

  “You have a great suit.”

  “It’s a standard Belter model.”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “A friend.”

  “A friend sold it to you?”

  “A friend died in it, and I was his size, so I got it next.”

  “Oh.” The new guy paused for a moment.

  “Jake, how come we can’t move around while we’re under thrust?”

  “Because you can get hurt in high G—fall over and break a bone, and we don’t want to deal with that.”

  “But we’re not under high G—this is like point two-five.”

  “No, we’re…Hey, you are right.” Jake came back to reality from watching the pintels of an airlock connect into a gudgeon.

  “How come we’re under thrust for point two-five G for twenty-four hours? We could get there in a lot less time if we had a higher thrust,” the new guy observed.

  “Probably waiting for a station to swing around.”

  “Strange course. Shouldn’t we have hit another station first? Do we do this drift thing often?”

  “No, we don’t. Time is money. We usually hit as many stations as possible.” Jake thought for a second. This was unusual. Huh. Captain’s problem. He returned to his video.

  * * *

  Rim-46 was like most of the other rim stations Jake had been at. Small, stuck on an asteroid, with mining tunnels. This one was perhaps a little bigger than normal. It had two solar distilleries and two different landing trusses. He and new guy went outside to handle lines.

  “Hey Jake, what’s that over there?” asked the new guy, pointing to the higher truss.

  “Just because we’re paired up for work doesn’t mean you can keep asking me questions,” Jake said.

  The new guy continued. After four days, he’d learned Jake’s bark was way worse than his bite.

  “It looks fast. Look at the engines.”

  Jake turned around. On the tallest docking truss was a ship. It was bigger than the Orange Blossom and had eight engine nozzles rather than two. He’d seen such ships before, but they weren’t common.

  “It’s a far trader. It’s faster than us. Twice as fast. Faster than a regular free trader, but not as much cargo.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that,” said the new guy, with feeling. They had shifted four containers so far and had four more to go. It was going to be another long shift.

  Six hours later, they were almost done. They were just waiting for the final lines to be dogged.

  Smiley was on the comm. “On the hull. Jake, I need you dockside.”

  “What for, Smiley?” asked Jake.

  “Go stand by their side of the fuel system. Plug into the airlock out there, and go inside. They’ll give you a package. T&T, stand by the dock lines. Everybody else, back in. Once Jake comes back, we’ll undock and head out.”

  “Fuel system airlock, got it.” Jake pushed off the ship and floated across the gap to the station truss. He landed with a gentle bump at the far side. He glanced behind him to see the new guy going in the aft airlock, and some activity on the front lock. He plugged into the comm next to the airlock. “The ship sent me,” he said. “I’m supposed to pick up something. Put it in the lock, and I’ll open up and grab it.”

  “Who are you again, son?” It sounded like an old man talking. There was no video from inside the lock on the screen, so Jake wasn’t sure. This was an old station, so the screen was probably broken.

  “I’m Jake. From the Orange Blossom. I’m here for a package. Put it in the lock, and I’ll pick it up. How big is it?”

  “It’s small, son. Fits in a pocket. But it’s not vacuum safe. Have you got a suit pocket that is pressurized?”

  “I do. But I’ll have to get in, and you’ll have to flood the lock.”

  “That’s fine, son. Climb in.”

  Jake swung the lock open and climbed in. He spun the handles to lock it tight, and his vision blurred as air slowly filled the chamber. Air always refracted light, just a little bit. The lock atmo light changed to green, so he flipped his visor up. Still the inner door didn’t open.

  “Old equipment,” said Jake. Some locks got stuck and wouldn’t engage even when the air was equalized.

  Jake heard a loud clank, and then another loud clank. It was odd; it sounded like a dock line being disengaged. Jake turned around and looked out the viewport in the outer door. The Orange Blossom was still there. Nope, it was moving.

  “What the hell? Hey, flush the air; my ship’s leaving.” Jake switched channels. “Smiley, what are you doing? I’m still here.”

  There was no response. Jake flipped his visor down and sealed it, then punched the button next to the outer door. It didn’t respond.

  “Stupid old crap.” Jake looked outside again. The Orange Blossom was definitely drifting. Maybe a line had broken loose, and it was just repositioning. He tried the ship channel again. “Smiley, I’m still here.”

  “I know, Jake. I know.” It was Smiley’s voice. “You should have taken my deal, Jake. You should have paid me. It would have been better for you, and better for me.”

  “Better than what? What did you do, Smiley?”

  “They were just better negotiators than you, Jake. Good luck. Orange Blossom out.”

  A blue flare lit in front of him.

  “Crap,” Jake said. That was the main engine. As the Orange Blossom continued moving away, Jake watched it get smaller in the viewport. He looked at the lock status board: the lock was full of air. He tried the outer button again, but nothing happened. He tried to spin the handles on the outer hatch, but they wouldn’t move. He flipped his visor up, turned around, and tried the inner hatch. The door handles spun easily, so he spun the door open and pushed it inward. Four figures stood in front of him.

  “Hello, Nadine,” he said to the blond girl in the center.

  CHAPTER 20

  “Hello, Jake. Good to see you again.” Nadine smiled at him. She was wearing a different outfit than before, a semihard suit. It was like his suit, tough and flexible, and designed for vacuum work.

  “Yeah.” Jake slumped against the wall.

  “We need to talk to you.”

  “Um, you could have sent an e-mail.”

  “To where?”

  “I don’t want to talk to you. I want to go back to my ship,” Jake said. He looked down at the deck.

  “Your ship is gone. And it wasn’t really your ship, anyway.”

  “I want to go back. I’ll call them. Say they marooned me.”

  Nadine shook her head. “They won’t answer.”

  “Somebody will hear me. Ships get in trouble for marooning crew.”

  “Too bad you aren’t listed as crew then, huh?”

  Good point, thought Jake. “I’ll call the militia.”

  “No, you won’t,” Nadine said. “They’ll send you to South. Don’t worry; after we’ve had our talk, I’ll drop you off where you want to go.”

  “Our talk?” Jake looked up at Nadine.

  “We need to talk about Danny.”

  “I didn’t kill Danny,” Jake said. “I just got scared and ran away. You know this. You helped me.”

  “I know you didn’t kill him, but I need to talk to you about that—and some other things. Come on out.”

  Jake surveyed the group. There was Nadine in the front. Behind her loomed two men. The taller of the two had pale white skin, black eyes, coarse black hair and a neatly trimmed black mustache. His partner was shorter, not much taller than Nadine, but with very broad shoulders. His skin was just as pale, but his eyes were brown, as was his beard. Brown stubble covered his shaven head. Both wore a bored expression. Their suits were of a similar design, painted in matching high visibility blue and white check. Metal plates reinforced the chest, arms and thighs. Jake looked at their collar and saw corporate flashes. Some sort of rent-a-guard company then, and the modified hard suits would function as body armor. And their belt pouches probably contained stunners.

  An older man with a patched skin suit stood next to Nadine, by the hatch panel. He had watery blue eyes and greasy grey hair, hacked off to fit inside a helmet. An electronic tool kit was strapped to his belt. Jake looked to him.

  “You OK with this, old-timer? Marooning somebody?”

  “I didn’t maroon you, boy. Your captain did.”

  “But I’m here, and with your help.”

  “All I did was open an airlock. We see the Orange Blossom from time to time; we know them. They treat us just fine, and we’d like to encourage more visits from them. You, I don’t know your story, but I trust they had a good reason to leave you here. Oh, and I have a package for you.” The man handed something through the airlock.

  Jake looked at it. “What is it?”

  “Your pay. They paid you out.”

  Jake took it and put it in a suit pocket.

  “What are you going to do with me? Steal my money and then space me?”

  “Son, you came here on a ship, and you’re leaving on a ship. That seems fair to me.”

  “What will the station council say when they hear about this?” Jake asked.

  “Since I’m the president of the council, and since we’ve already discussed it, they’ll say you are not part of me and mine, so you are on your own. This is a rim station, son. We look after our ourselves, but that’s all we can afford to look after.”

  Nadine jumped in. “Thanks for your help, but we have business. Jake, come with us. We’ll get you fed and showered, and then we’ll talk. After our talk, we’ll drop you off.”

  Jake didn’t move, and Nadine frowned.

  “Jake, you are coming with us one way or another, even if we have to drag you out.”

  Jake still didn’t move. “You sound different, Nadine. Not flirty like you were in school. More decisive.”

  “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not actually a student. Not anymore.”

  Jake slowly shook his head, then he stared at the old-timer by the lock. He turned toward Nadine, nodded his head.

  “Yeah, neither am I.” He leaned down and stuck his hand into a small recessed slot on the floor. Inside was a handle. He pulled the handle up as fast as he could.

  The lever was very long, perhaps two meters, and it was connected to the airlock door. It was the emergency manual close. He heard curses and scrambling as those outside tried to grab the door flange and hold it open. The two heavies grabbed the edge, but the airlock door continued to swing shut. The old guy, aware of the danger, stepped well back and watched. Nadine had raised her eyebrows but had not otherwise moved.

  Jake kept pushing, and the door kept swinging shut. One of the heavies had his fingers wrapped around the edge of the door. It made pushing the lever harder, but Jake had lots of leverage. Jake figured the heavy would lose at least two fingers, probably all four, when the door slammed shut and the locking system engaged.

  Jake kept his eyes on the fingers as he strained forward. What if they kept their hands there? The emergency locking mechanism would certainly crush them, but would it chop them off? Was the edge of the hatch sharp enough to chop, or just squish? It was an interesting academic question, chop or crush. It looked like he would have a practical demonstration in about four seconds. The fingers stayed there as the hatch closed.

  The fingers disappeared. The hatch clanked shut, and the emergency bolts locked, sealing the hatch shut. Jake bent at the waist, winded, and caught his breath for a moment. The lever hadn’t been that heavy, but he’d pushed it a long way.

  “‘Give me a place to stand, and I’ll move the earth,’” he quoted.

  The panel lit, and Nadine’s voice came through it. “Jake, that was fun, but it doesn’t help. We’ll just override the manual safety from the panel here.”

  Jake reached into his outer pocket for some of the tools he carried and hammered the screwdriver between the panel and the lock, and then pried it off. It came off with a pop and hung by its wiring harness.

  Nadine continued speaking. “Jake, I’m getting annoyed. We just need to talk. We need your help, and if you help us we’ll let you go. Don’t make us break in there; I’ll be angry with you.”

  Jake ignored her, counting the wires in the harness. Yes, thirteen of them, exactly as the video said. He put his hammer and screwdriver back in his pocket and pulled out a pair of pliers, counting down the rows of the bundle.

  Nadine had left the circuit open, and Jake could hear the conversation.

  “…open now?” Nadine asked.

  “I can’t override the lever, but I can disconnect the linkage and disengage the locking pins with the internal motors. I’ll start now. That will take about a minute,” the old guy said.

  “Fine,” said Nadine. “We have time.”

  Jake heard a clank. That would be the coupling for the lever. Now he couldn’t pull the lock closed in a hurry, but it was sealed shut with the locking pins. Then he heard a whirring noise. Yup, just like the video: that would be the pins withdrawing slowly.

  Jake continued counting—six, seven, eight. At number eight, he clipped the wire. The whirring continued. He kept counting. Ten, eleven, clip.

  The whirring stopped. Jake let out his breath. The speaker kept chattering.

  “He did what?” asked Nadine.

  “Disengaged the electronics. We’ll have to open the lock on this side and manually pull the couplings out.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “Time. I’ll need to get help.”

  Nadine addressed him again. “Jake, listen, we’re on your side; don’t get in any more trouble here.”

  Jake leaned down and stuck his mouth close to the speaker. “I’m wanted for murder. I’ve been marooned on a strange station. This station wants to steal my money and space me, and the people claiming to be on my side started a bar fight and beat up everybody around me. How much more trouble can I get in?”

  “Jake, we can work this out.”

  “I don’t think so, Nadine. I’m sorry. I’m tired of hiding. I didn’t do anything, and all people want to do now is arrest me, steal money from me, work me to death, whatever. I can’t take it anymore.”

  “Just relax, Jake; we’ll work this out. I just need a few questions answered, and we’ll take you where you want to go.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere. I want this to end. I’ve had enough. I’m not running again.”

  Jake turned around and went to the outer door. When he glanced out the viewport, he thought he could see a small blue light in the distance. Maybe the Orange Blossom, maybe not; it would be far away now. It had been his home for a while, and he missed it.

  He turned away from the viewport and looked at the panel. Nadine and the old guy were chattering on the speaker, but he ignored them. He popped this panel off as well and began counting wires. He crossed two of them, and the adjacent light changed from red to green.

  Inside, the old guy had a panel of his own popped off the wall, and he was examining a motor. He had a tool kit identical to Jake’s on the floor beside him.

  A light above the panel changed. Nadine released the comm button and pointed at it. “What’s that?”

  The old guy looked up at it. “Huh. He disengaged the safety circuit.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “He can blow the outer door if he wants.”

  “We control the atmo pumps. He can’t open the outer door until we pump out, right?

  “Not anymore,” the old guys said. “He can open the outer door even when he’s under pressure.”

  Nadine turned back to the panel and punched the comm button.

  “Jake, what are you doing? Jake, don’t do anything stupid. We just want to talk. Jake? Jake?”

  Jake looked out the viewport and nodded once. There it was. He shuffled his feet a bit, then turned so that he faced the outer door. He reached over and pushed the comm button. “I’m really sorry, Nadine.” He reached back with his right hand and slammed the emergency OPEN button. The hatch door burst open, and Jake blasted out of the lock, away from the station, and straight into space.