G-Base: The Rishkan Drive, #2

Chapter One

Gwen Davies took the last poster down from the wall, and rolled it up with the others. The tiny study/bedroom looked bleak without them. It had been her home for the last two years, bar only six weeks of the last summer holidays, and now she was heading home again. Well, not exactly home. The refugee camp where she had lived since the war no longer existed, but her best friend had asked her to come and stay so she did have a place to go to on Earth, as she left the excitement of the Astronaut and Cosmonaut School of Space Endeavour behind for ever. Today was graduation day at AsCoS, and when she came back to the Moon she would be studying at Arago University. It would not be the same; none of her friends would be there. It was not just that they would be on other parts of the Moon, they would not even be on the Moon. They had all been drafted into the Solar Patrol, together with the ship they had so laboriously reconditioned, but Gwen would not be in command. The Alliance Patrol had appointed an experienced captain to make the ship, Terror, ready for war.

Gwen slipped the roll of posters into her bag, and strained the zip closed around it. Then she looked round the room one last time, knowing she would miss it, dirty paint, cracked ceiling, and all. Something nagged at her, something forgotten, until she noticed her mascot, a palm sized fur covered wooden circle, with a ridiculous tartan hat perched above bulging eyes. She snatched up Hamish Mactavish, and realised that she had no where to put him. The bag was too full to fit in anything else unless she repacked, and there was no time for that before the graduation ceremony. After it she would barely have time to return here and grab her bag before catching the shuttle to Earth. The only pocket available for something Hamish's size was in her jacket; so she slipped him in, then turned to check that she did not look silly.

The back of the door held a full length mirror, and Gwen studied her reflection critically. For graduation everyone was expected to wear their short bodied, collarless, long sleeved black jacket over the silvery grey overalls that mimicked the Alliance Patrol uniform. The single pocket was on the left, just above the waist, and whichever way she twisted Gwen could not see anything to betray Hamish hiding there. Any strangers who looked at her jacket would not be looking at her pocket anyway; they would look at the sleeves. AsCoS jackets had a function over and above clothing, enabling the initiated to discover a great deal about the owner with a single glance. Gwen's left sleeve showed the symbols for the courses she had taken, piloting and engineering, together with the Delta that marked her as a scholarship student, while the right showed that she came from the Welsh province of the Terran Confederacy. Very unusually for a student it also displayed a Solar Patrol medal ribbon, the Lunar Star First Class that she had been awarded for her part in thwarting a pirate raid on the Moon. She took no pride in the fact that it was one of the last Stars that might ever be awarded.

Shortly after the investiture the Solar Patrol had ceased to exist; the Alliance Patrol and the Venusian Patrol were now at war with each other, while the Martian Defence Force tried to stay neutral. It was ironic that as a student she could find herself flying for the Solar Patrol, and be awarded its highest award for valour, but as a graduate the Alliance Patrol did not want her. The Terran Confederacy had the greatest influence on the Alliance Patrol, and they did not trust the loyalty of their Welsh subjects. The thought of giving Gwen any job where she would have access to weapons and space ships made them nervous, and they had vetoed the Lunar desire to draft her as they had all her class mates.

The medal itself still lay on the bed, pinned to a display sash that should drop diagonally from her left shoulder; the AsCoS graduation ceremony was a very formal occasion.

Gwen slipped the heavy material over her head, and smoothed the sash into place but frowned at her reflection despite the dramatic glitter of platinum on sable. Black did not suit her. Her hair was dark, and even after nine months away from the sun her skin still showed warmly golden. Her father had been Indian, and she took after him in colouring rather than her Welsh mother. The jacket made her skin look sallow, and her hair muddy rather than true black. She wore her neatest overalls beneath the jacket, but they were two years old, issued when she first came to the Moon, and she had grown noticeably taller since then. Most of the other students present today would be wearing new overalls, purchased specially for the occasion but Gwen did not have enough money for that; her total wealth amounted to two coffee tokens and three Welsh coins of low denomination that no shopkeeper on the Moon would dream of accepting.

Gwen looked at her reflection for a moment longer, then grinned. She would have to do, and the medal should distract anyone who noticed the worn out trousers. It was not as though she would be going up to the platform for any major prizes, not like the others who wore the Lunar Star. There were five of them in all, the whole crew of the AsCoS Training Vessel, Terror, and scandalised staff said that the mass award devalued the honour. The other four were bound to be in the running for best in their disciplines, but Gwen's nationality barred her from school prizes, just as it barred her from joining the Patrol. She had learnt to live with it, and at least it meant she did not need to worry about her clothes. She would not even think about the holes in the soles of her carefully polished shoes.

The graduation ceremony would be held in the Hub, the large central meeting point where the six Spokes that housed AsCoS came together. Gwen could hear the hum of excitement from up ahead as she left her room in a side corridor off Spoke One; the boys were housed in a different corridor, and the two were supposed to stay separate. Gwen was not surprised to meet a boy in the corridor though, especially as he had his arm around a girl.

Hi, you two! Nick Hall and Liz Hughes looked round guiltily at her greeting, and Gwen laughed. Nick had been in Terror's crew, and wore his medal sash over an AsCoS uniform that looked brand new, and suited him perfectly. He and Liz had been together since half way through their first term at AsCoS. They were rarely apart, but would soon be separated for a long time; Nick was going for extra training at the Patrol base near Saturn, while Liz would be based at Patrol headquarters on the Moon. After today they might not see each other for months and Gwen could not deny them their privacy. Don't be late for graduation!

Hey, Gwen! Nick's call stopped her as she was about to walk past. If we don't see you after the ceremony, take care!

I will. Bye.

It was that simple to say farewell. Gwen had made few friends at AsCoS, too busy working for much socialising, but Nick and Liz were close, and she might never see them again. Gwen shook herself. There were other farewells to make, and ones that mattered more to her. There were three other members of Terror's crew to find, and she knew just where to look. Piotr and Faoud were like Gwen, their relatives lived too far away to come to the graduation ceremony. Piotr would probably be in the Star-Strike room, playing the three dimensional holographic star battle game he excelled at, right up until the last minute. Faoud might well be there with him. Gwen headed for the Hub.

Normally the huge room was split in two by a screen, with one side acting as a cafeteria, and the other full of comfortable chairs set in circles around coffee tables. The Hub had been cleared for graduation now, with the screen folded away and the tables retracted into the floor. Strict rows of folding seats were already half full of parents and other relatives, while the students milled around, trying to find their numbered places.

As well as the six radiating Spokes a number of smaller exits gave access to recreation rooms such as the Star-Strike room where Gwen expected to find Piotr, and she threaded her way towards the entrance, looking at seat numbers as she did so. She was in row twelve, with the others from the pilots course, and once she realised it was twelve from the back, not twelve from the front she had no difficulty finding her place. It was in the centre of the row, confirming her certainty that she had not won a prize. She did not sit down, but kept on towards the Star-Strike room. Someone was certainly in there, and playing a good game if the number of people trying to catch a glimpse from the doorway was any indication.

Gwen! She turned to face the young man who had called, and smiled. Faoud Ali was very tall, and strongly built, with such short, tightly curled black hair that it stood hardly fingernail high above his head. His skin was as black as his hair, burnt by Jupiter's radiation field until it was darker than it would have been by the African sun his ancestors knew. His family had come to Ganymede by way of America, and he boasted Scandinavian descent too, but Jupiter's radiation was merciless, and even people with a good percentage of African blood took drugs to boost the melanin levels in their skin to help protect against skin cancers; unprotected Nordic types died young. He was on the same piloting course as Gwen, and served as weapons officer aboard Terror; he was lethally accurate, and almost certain to be awarded the Marksman's Prize. Like Gwen he wore a black medal sash, but Terror's other crew members had been awarded a third class, not first class, Lunar Star, and the silver did not look nearly as dramatic as the platinum. He made up for it in wearing the gaudiest hook-up ribbon he could buy.

Most of the AsCoS students had the surgery that allowed them immediate access to the ocean of information held in data banks throughout the Moon. A direct input ran to Faoud's optic nerve, letting him overlay the data onto his ordinary vision, or he could hear it via the implant in his middle ear. The ribbon round his throat served several purposes; it held the circuitry needed to interpret the data it collected from its task as an aerial, and contained a microphone to pick up his voice. He could voice programme a data search or use his hook-up as a 'phone, but at the moment the glittering green and scarlet ribbon just served as personal decoration.

How's things?

Okay, Gwen shrugged, and decided there was no point trying to push through the crowd, she may as well talk to Faoud. Well. You know. I'll miss this place.

Place or people? Faoud was a year older than most of the students, and showed it occasionally. I wish you were joining the Patrol with the rest of us. You should.

I can't, Gwen said shortly. The recruiting officer made that very clear. Anyway, I promised I'd take a maths degree at Arago University. Gwen was good at maths, very good indeed, and most people thought that coming to AsCoS had been a waste of her time. She had become an excellent pilot and engineer, but those skills would be of little use when she studied the theoretical maths that she was expected to make her life's work. Faoud nodded, and asked,

You said good-bye to anyone else yet?

Nick and Liz, Gwen tried to smile. They were busy swearing undying love.

Typical! Faoud grinned back. Piotr's in there, as you might have guessed! He nodded towards the crowded Star Strike room. Colin too I think.

Oh, Gwen's reluctance to see Colin made Faoud smile more broadly. She and Colin had been staying in together since Christmas, when they were not arguing. The fact that they were not together now told Faoud that they were in a fighting stage. It was hardly surprising, and typical of both, that they would pretend not to care because they had to separate.

Come on, he offered. I'll force a way through for you.

A warning gong sounded, then came an announcement that only ten minutes remained before the ceremony started. The crowds round the Star Strike room began to disperse so Faoud did not have to do much forcing to get to the doorway. Gwen followed him, hardly noticing when someone moved into her way. He was not wearing a uniform jacket, so was probable a parent, although he looked a little young for that, but as Gwen came level with him he seemed to trip, falling towards her, one gloved hand extended to save himself. Gwen moved smartly aside, and that was all that saved her life as he brought up his other hand, holding a thin bladed knife. The point was aimed at her heart, but she virtually stepped into it, so it caught her lower down, cutting off her sash before rebounding off Hamish Mactavish to slice across her ribs.

Her assailant disappeared into the milling crowds before Faoud realised anything had happened.

Gwen clutched at the wound without thinking. Her jacket was badly cut, and the overall beneath it too, so that blood welled out of the wound straight on to her hand. She looked at it blankly, going into shock.

Faoud? Her uncertain voice made him turn sharply. She was always decisive, never... He saw the blood, and swore.

I don't think it's too bad, she sounded dazed. It didn't get anything vital. She found herself sitting on the floor while Faoud shouted into the Star Strike room. Suddenly Piotr and Colin were there. Piotr took over,

Gwen. Gwen! What happened?

I'm not sure. Why was it so hard to think? She put her head between her knees, taking in great gulps of air, and feeling sick.

She is in shock, Piotr declared. Pick her up, Colin. We must take her to the surgery.

What about graduation? Faoud asked.

Stay for it, that was Colin, sounding angry. I'm taking Gwen. He knelt beside her, and Gwen turned her head to see him, forcing her eyes open.

Colin Shaughnessy was scowling. He scowled a lot, and that and his broken nose had given him a dangerous reputation. He did his best to live up to it, but Gwen knew him better than most. She tried to smile, but felt too sick. Colin slipped his arms gently round her back and under her knees, and lifted her up. She leant her head on his shoulder, feeling the smoothness of the fibres of his uniform jacket, and the sharp edges of the medal he wore. She would get blood on it, but he did not care. You stay too, Piotr. Colin felt jealously protective as Gwen nestled into him. I can deal with this.

You are sure? Piotr said doubtfully. Colin had told him all about the argument last night, how he did not care if he never saw Gwen again. It did not look that way now.

Stay, Gwen managed to nod. "And Faoud. Do Terror proud." Piotr might well be up for a prize too; although not Lunar born the manufacturing satellite where he lived was part of the Alliance Confederacy, and he was joining the Patrol along with the rest of them. She did not notice as he bent down and picked up her medal sash, folding it into his pocket to give to her later.

I'll call ahead! he promised, and hooked up.

Colin carried Gwen carefully through the Hub, causing no comments. Gwen's overalls and jacket absorbed the blood until both were sodden and scarlet spilled out to stain Colin's but no one was interested enough to look closely, or ask why two students were leaving the Hub while all the others were getting into place for the graduation ceremony. Gwen closed her eyes. The wound was beginning to burn, and she gasped as Colin shifted his grip.

You okay? he asked, and Gwen tried to smile.

No. I hurt.

What happened? he demanded, but talking had made Gwen's stomach heave, and she dared not answer in case she was sick. She clutched his jacket instead.

Colin looked down; he could feel her blood seeping through his jacket where he held her and the pallor of her golden skin frightened him. She had to be all right! The AsCoS doctor should be in his surgery now, packing up for the vacation. He headed straight there, by the shortest route he knew. After two years Colin knew every inch of AsCoS, and hardly five minutes after she was stabbed Gwen was blinking in the bright lights of the doctor's surgery. She had been there once before, after getting in a fight in her first year, but this time the white painted room swayed alarmingly as she tried to look round.

Help me, Colin's demand brought instant attention. Both school doctors were there, as well as a practice nurse, and after one look at the girl in Colin's arms the elder doctor said tersely.

Bring her through here and put her on the table. Colin carried Gwen into the surgery's tiny operating theatre, normally used for setting broken bones or removing moles. What happened?

I think she was stabbed. Colin eased Gwen gently down into the table, but she did not want to let go. The nurse pried her hands free from Colin's jacket, and he set her down. The pain almost made her almost lose consciousness; fresh blood began to flow as the nurse pulled her jacket away.

How is she? Colin demanded, and the doctor frowned at him.

How are you involved?

She's my girlfriend, Gwen could hear the scowl in Colin's voice, and smiled. Then she was sick, just as the first doctor whisked Colin away into the main room.

Tell me what you know. My colleagues will look after her. The door closed behind them, leaving Gwen to the remaining doctor and the nurse.

Hello Gwen, the nurse spoke gently, wiping the vomit away as the lights changed. Rather than normal daylight bulbs the operating theatre was fitted with special filaments that put out wavelengths guaranteed to sterilise the room, and they made Gwen's head swim even more. I am Julie, and the Doctor over there is Anju. We need to get a good look at that wound, so I'm going to take your jacket and overall off. You just lie there. I'll try and hurt as little as possible. Julie kept up a flow of soothing chatter, telling Gwen what she was doing and why, but Gwen took in very little of it. The world was doing strange things, and she began to slip in and out of consciousness. We might need blood, the doctor spoke for the first time. She's lost at least a pint. Check her records.

I'll need a palm print, Julie said. I can't find her Ident. Everyone was implanted with an identity chip when they were born, but Gwen's had been wiped by an electro-magnetic pulse when the Earth was decimated by nuclear war, and never replaced.

Julie got Gwen to straighten out, and then the doctor probed the wound carefully. The white of ribs showed, but although the wound was long, and would leave a noticeable scar, the bone cage had done its job, keeping the vital organs safe. The girl seemed unconscious, but Julie kept up her description of events as the doctor sprayed anaesthetic on the wound before cleaning it thoroughly. Threads of cloth had been driven into the flesh, and the knife had pierced her diaphragm; she would need to be kept in hospital for a couple of days, just to make sure no infection set in. Eventually Anju taped the wound shut with synthetic skin that would peel off by itself when the flesh healed.

Gwen regained consciousness before she finished, but she still felt removed from everything. Her own body did not belong to her as Anju smoothed on the Skin. First aid was part of her training, so she had seen Skin before, but never watched it take on a coloured tinge as it activated; the pink strip ran straight across her ribs in a frighteningly long stripe. Julie noticed she was conscious, and smiled reassuringly, saying,

Your boyfriend got ordered back to the Hub so he didn't miss graduation. He insisted he'd be back straight afterwards. That should be any time now.

Gwen closed her eyes, near tears. She had missed the graduation ceremony, and would miss her shuttle flight. There would not be another for a week, maybe longer; it was possible she would not even be able to get home before starting at the University. Why had she been attacked? What possible motive could there have been? She had not recognised her assailant at all. Julie spoke again, and Gwen jerked her attention back to the nurse.

We'd best get you bandaged, and find you something to wear. Your clothes are all covered in blood. Gwen rolled over, and tried to sit up, but stopped, too dizzy to breath, with not enough oxygen in the air..

You'll feel dizzy, Anju said unnecessarily. You lost quite a lot of blood. We'll keep you in sick bay until you feel better. Plenty of fluids, and high protein meals will soon put you right.

I was supposed to be going home today, Gwen complained as soon as she had her breath back.

Weren't we all! Anju smiled. But with the war we medical staff are not getting any leave, even though no one has been hurt yet! Can you sit up now?

Gwen tried again, and managed it this time but her mind was fixed on other things. She had to make them realise that getting home was serious.

How long do I have to stay? My friend's supposed to be meeting the shuttle. I have to get her a message....

I will see to it, Anju assured her. Give me the details. Gwen told the doctor how to get in touch with Debbie while Julie bandaged Gwen's wound until she could not twist her body and strain the Skin. As the door opened to let Anju out Gwen heard a confusion of voices, as though the outer room were suddenly full of people, but the noise cut off when the door shut, leaving Gwen and Julie alone. They exchanged looks full of curiosity, which grew as Julie finished her bandaging without Anju's return. Time stretched.

Let's get you properly undressed, Julie decided eventually. Those overalls can't be comfortable. The blood had dried with the heat of Gwen's body, and the trousers were stiff. Gwen contemplated standing up, but did not want her legs to buckle, so lay back instead, and let Julie pull them off. The nurse was looking round for something to cover the almost naked girl, when the door slid open again.

Nice, Colin grinned as Julie glared, and tried to stand in front of Gwen to give her some privacy. Almost regret I brought this, he swung Gwen's carry-all off his shoulder into the nurse's arms. What's going on out there? They didn't want to let me through 'till Dr Anju gave me the nod.

I don't know. Julie did not move from her protective position. Why don't you go and find out? Colin hesitated.

"I can't. I'm supposed to report to Terror straight after graduation."

What are you doing here then? Gwen scolded, and he glared at her.

I was worried about you. Are you okay?

I will be when I get some clothes on, she spoke as lightly as she could. The anaesthetic was beginning to wear off, and she hurt again.

Okay, Colin mock grumbled. I get the hint. You've missed your shuttle though. So I will see you later. The Saturn convoy's not leaving 'till morning. The door slid open once more, letting in another blast of noise, though not nearly as confused; someone was getting things organised.

Julie put the carry-all down on the table beside Gwen, and opened it carefully. The posters sprang out, unrolling and scattering in all directions before she could stop them. Almost at the bottom of the bag she found a baggy tee-shirt. Gwen looked at the shirt, and tried to smile. The green cloth bore the word Terror proudly across the front, while a red Chinese dragon cavorted across the back. They had been made up especially for Gwen's crew, but only in one size, so Gwen wore hers as a dress rather than a shirt. She had to wear it with a belt though, and was not sure of the wisdom of that with the Skin across her ribs.

This, Julie decided, slipping it over Gwen's head before she could protest. It's loose enough to be comfortable. She looked at Gwen critically. And long enough that you won't want trousers.

A good thing, Gwen agreed. Her only pair of trousers had gone at the knees months ago, and they were in the bin rather than taking up space in her carry-all. She felt better by the minute as the pain cleared her head and it stayed at a manageable level even when she stood up.

Julie gathered the escaped posters and rolled them before picking up Gwen's discarded clothes, putting the blood stained overalls to one side. They would probably clean up, but jacket was badly cut, and she contemplated throwing it away. Owners tended to prize their AsCoS jackets though, and it might be needed by the police, so she folded it as neatly as she could. Something hard in the jacket pocket caught her attention and she pried the blood soaked material apart to take out Gwen's prized mascot. Hamish Mactavish was in a terrible state. His jaunty hat and soft fur were a spiky brownish red, and his wooden underbelly bore a furrowed scar where it had turned the knife. Julie mutely held the battered object out to its owner, just as the door opened again.

Are you finished in here, nurse? It was the first doctor again, and the sight of Hamish's scar made him pause. May I see that? Gwen nodded her agreement, and he took the gory wooden object, and frowned at it. See Miss Davies into sickbay, please. I think some people will want to talk to her soon.

Julie raised her eyebrows, but he ignored her, and left her to settle Gwen into a personal floater. Floaters were more like flying carpets than anything else, using Rishkan Inverters to levitate, but they would not move in any direction except up or down without someone to push them. Self propelled floaters were banned from residential and work areas, there had been too many accidents and races when they were first invented, and now they were only allowed on recreation raceways. Gwen had tried floater racing once, and enjoyed it, but she hurt too much to remember that now. Julie pushed her out of the room where she had been treated and into the main surgery. The meeting seemed to have moved elsewhere and it was deserted; Julie noticed the unusual fact that both other examination rooms had operation in progress lights showing, but did not draw Gwen's attention to it. The girl looked tired, which was hardly surprising, but she should eat before she slept.

The sick bay contained two beds, both empty, but the room itself already had an occupant. He wore the uniform of an AsCo security officer, and the badge on his shoulder identified him as Patrol Lieutenant Encaminar. He held Gwen's mascot in his hands, and he looked at her as though he expected her to fall in two.

Miss Davies? Gwen swung her legs gingerly over the edge of the floater, knowing she only had to take one step to be on the bed. Keeping her body straight made moving difficult, but she had already discovered that bending her torso hurt. Encaminar watched, concerned, but did not wait for her answer. I am Lieutenant Encaminar, of the AsCo base police. AsCoS comes under our jurisdiction, so can you tell me what happened? I understand this was in your pocket? He held Hamish out to Gwen, and she took him as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Julie folded the floater up as Gwen told her story, turning the mascot in her hands, and beginning to accept the reality of the attack. Hamish had saved her life. Without his wooden body to deflect the blade the knife would have reached her heart, even with the bungled entry point. She told her story as fully as possible, hoping that Encaminar would be able to make some sense of it, but after she finished he had another question for her.

You were the captain of the training ship that stopped the hijacking of the Saturn Base supply ship at Easter, weren't you? When Gwen nodded, wondering what that had to do with anything, he went on. In fact it was a ship you disabled that proved to the Patrol that the hijacking was not the work of pirates, but organised by the Venusian government. In other words, some people might blame you for starting the war between the Alliance and Venus.

Me? Gwen stared at him in dismay. But that's stupid! Venus was building up its fleet anyway, that's why they tried to steal more. And they declared war, not me.

The Venusian government's declaration of war states that the Lunar Patrol's unwarranted use of force in preventing the hi-jacking was the cause of the war. He paused to let that sink in, and Gwen sagged, then jerked upright with a hiss of pain as her wound flexed against its bandage.

And that's why someone stuck a knife in me? Because I helped stop a hijacking? No Venusians even got hurt! And I was hardly alone. She stopped cold at the thought. Were the others in danger? She would like to see someone try and knife Colin, Nick, or Faoud, but Piotr was terribly vulnerable. Having been brought up in zero gravity he moved very slowly on the Moon. Her hand went to hold her side, where the knife had entered her skin. She could feel her ribs, reassuringly solid, but Piotr's bones were fragile; they might have shattered beneath the blade and let the knife cut something vital.

I do not think your crew mates are in any danger, Encaminar assured her. They are members of the Patrol, and will soon be going for training at Saturn. No one there will hold them responsible for the war.

I must ask you to leave. Nurse Julie had been watching Gwen carefully, and knew she was getting too tired for this sort of thing. Miss Davies needs to rest now.

Encaminar did not object. He wanted to do more research on Miss Davies. He had expected her to be bewildered and scared, but her fears were for her friends rather than herself. Did she not realised how vulnerable she would be once she left AsCoS? He needed to find some way of protecting her. If she could be attacked in AsCoS's Hub, with hundreds of people around, then she would not be safe anywhere.

Colin Shaughnessy slouched along the corridor, knowing he was going to be late for his first meeting with the new captain, and not caring. He had not wanted to be in the Patrol in the first place, they had drafted him, and if they decided to kick him out before he ever got off planet so much the better. He was not like Nick or Faoud, who had applied to join the Patrol, or Piotr, who secretly dreamed of it while not daring to put his dreams to the test; he wanted nothing to do with it. So what if there was a war, and they were drafting all available personnel? They should not have drafted him. He was an engineer, trained in engine development and installation, and he could do that as a civilian, without having to submit to stupid military regulations. It was all Gwen's fault, making Terror so well known that the high ups in the patrol had decided to keep the crew together; everyone except the Captain. Dam Gwen! She had got him into this, but she had not been drafted, she was free to get on with her own life. Free to get knifed, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind, and he scowled, cursing Gwen, the way she made him care, the way she was changing his life.

Terror was still berthed at AsCoS, off corridor One in Spoke Five, and Colin had been there so often in the last nine months that he could find his way blindfold. The airlock was closed, but the light over it shone green, so he slapped his hand on the palm plate. Sometimes the door opened immediately, but this time it took several seconds to accept his authorisation, and when it did open the airlock hissed. Terror had been out then, since the airlock was last used, and Colin's scowl deepened. If this new captain was going to fly without an engineer here, he could certainly do without one in deep space. He closed the airlock behind him, and went through the cooking galley to the main cabin door. That was closed, but slid open as soon as the external door sealed shut; that automatic sequence was one of the first modifications the crew had made to Terror when they were given the non flying hulk to refurbish at the beginning of their second year.

Colin glared into the control cabin. Five chairs were set up in an uneven semi circle, facing outwards towards the view screens at the front of the ship, and four of them were occupied, including the engineer's. Faoud sat there, leaving his own weapon's position vacant. Colin could hardly stop himself snorting in disgust;