Leviathan Wakes

Kelly didn’t tap his foot while waiting for them to seal into their suits; Holden guessed this was only because the marines had their magnetic boots turned on. As soon as everyone had given the thumbs-up, Kelly did a quick radio check on each suit, then headed back into the corridor. With eight people in it, four of them in powered armor, the mini-airlock was tight. Kelly pulled a heavy knife from a sheath on his chest and slashed the plastic barrier open in one quick movement. The hatch behind them slammed shut, and the air in the corridor vanished in a soundless ripple of plastic flaps. Kelly charged into the corridor with the crew scrambling to keep up.

“We are moving with all speed to the keel elevator banks,” Kelly said through the radio link. “They’re locked down because of the boarding alarm, but I can get the doors open on one and we’ll float down the shaft to the hangar bay. Everything is on the double. If you see boarders, do not stop. Keep moving at all times. We’ll handle the hostiles. Roger that?”

“Roger, Lieutenant,” Holden gasped out. “Why board you?”

“The command information center,” Alex said. “It’s the holy grail. Codes, deployments, computer cores, the works. Takin’ a flagship’s CIC is a strategist’s wet dream.”

“Cut the chatter,” Kelly said. Holden ignored him.

“That means they’ll blow the core rather than let that happen, right?”

“Yep,” Alex replied. “Standard ops for boarders. Marines hold the bridge, CIC, and engineering. If any of the three is breached, the other two flip the switch. The ship turns into a star for a few seconds.”

“Standard ops,” Kelly growled. “Those are my friends.”

“Sorry, El Tee,” Alex replied. “I served on the Bandon. Don’t mean to make light.”

They turned a corner and the elevator bank came into view. All eight elevators were closed and sealed. The heavy pressure doors had slammed shut when the ship was holed.

“Gomez, run the bypass,” Kelly said. “Mole, Dookie, watch those corridors.”

Two of the marines spread out, watching the hallways through their gun sights. The third moved to one of the elevator doors and started doing something complicated to the controls. Holden motioned his crew to the wall, out of the firing lines. The deck vibrated slightly from time to time beneath his feet. The enemy ships wouldn’t still be firing, not with their boarders inside. It must be small-arms fire and light explosives. But as they stood there in the perfect quiet of vacuum, everything that was happening took on a distant and surreal feeling. Holden recognized that his mind wasn’t working the way it should be. Trauma reaction. The destruction of the Canterbury, the deaths of Ade and McDowell. And now someone had killed Shed in his bunk. It was too much; he couldn’t process it. He felt the scene around him grow more and more distant.

Holden looked behind him at Naomi, Alex, and Amos. His crew. They stared back, faces ashen and ghostly in the green light of their suit displays. Gomez pumped his fist in triumph as the outer pressure door slid open, revealing the elevator doors. Kelly gestured to his men.

The one called Mole turned around and started to walk to the elevator when his face disintegrated in a spray of pebble-shaped bits of armored glass and blood. His armored torso and the corridor bulkhead beside him bloomed in a hundred small detonations and puffs of smoke. His body jerked and swayed, attached to the floor by magnetic boots.

Holden’s sense of unreality washed away in adrenaline. The fire spraying across the wall and Mole’s body was high-explosive rounds from a rapid-fire weapon. The comm channel filled with yelling from the marines and Holden’s own crew. To Holden’s left, Gomez yanked the elevator doors open using the augmented strength of his powered armor, exposing the empty shaft behind them.

“Inside!” Kelly shouted. “Everybody inside!”

Holden held back, pushing Naomi in, and then Alex. The last marine — the one Kelly had called Dookie — fired his rifle on full auto at some target around the corner from Holden. When the weapon ran dry, the marine dropped to one knee and ejected the clip in the same motion. Almost faster than Holden could follow, he pulled a new magazine from his harness and slapped it into his weapon. He was firing again less than two seconds after he’d run out.

Naomi yelled at Holden to get into the elevator shaft, and then a viselike hand grabbed his shoulder, yanked him off his magnetic grip on the floor, and hurled him through the open elevator doors.

“Get killed when I’m not babysitting,” Lieutenant Kelly barked.

They shoved off the walls of the elevator shaft and flew down the long tunnel toward the aft of the ship. Holden kept looking back at the open door, receding into the distance behind them.

“Dookie isn’t following us,” he said.

“He’s covering our exit,” Kelly replied.

“So we better get away,” Gomez added. “Make it mean something.”