Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Ready?”
Justyn watched Nissa glance up. They were both encased in spacesuits, the silver fabric slicked over their bodies. She held her slim-line helmet under her arm.
She nodded. “I’m ready. So, how are we getting to the wreck?”
Rynan strode in. “On my modified space skimmers.” He waved them through to the shuttle bay.
Inside, two streamlined space skimmers sat side by side. They were designed for the user to lie flat on, gripping the handgrips that contained embedded controls. Tiny plasma thrusters provided propulsion.
“I’ve never seen any skimmers that look like this.” She squatted beside one, running her hands over the sleek design and small engines. “The skimmers on the Freedom are bulky cylinders.”
“My little hobby is redesigning the tech we use a lot. I found standard skimmers too big and lacking maneuverability for some of the things I wanted to use them for.”
That was Ry, always charging in to fix a problem. Justyn nudged his brother. “I’m just happy you’re parting with these babies, and I finally get to use one.”
Rynan gave him a hard stare. “Take care of them.”
Justyn dragged a finger over his heart in the shape of a cross. “I’ll do my best.”
“Yeah, I know your best. Things usually end up shot at or exploding.”
Nissa’s lips twitched. “We ready to go?”
“Yep.” Justyn moved to his skimmer. “These babies have reinforced hulls, so they can withstand the radiation. And with the injections Elana jabbed us with, we have an hour to safely explore the wreck.”
“I’ve studied the design of the Nero,” Rynan added. “Cargo was in the back of the ship. But, there’s a chance Captain Griffin kept the document locked in a safe in the captain’s cabin. That’s at the front. I’ve sent details to your mini-Syncs.”
Justyn nodded. “We’ll check both out.”
“All right. Good luck.” Rynan slugged a fist into Justyn’s shoulder then nodded at Nissa before he strode out.
Justyn tugged his helmet on, then listened for the quiet hiss as the air circulated through his suit. As Nissa put her helmet on, he pressed the ignition button on the skimmer. With a quiet hum, it rose off the ground. Leaning forward, he curled his hands around the handgrips.
Nissa did the same.
“Let’s go.” He pressed down on the throttle and the skimmer moved forward smoothly. He approached the huma-field covering the opening of the bay. He noted Nissa and her skimmer moving in behind him.
Seconds later, he shot out into space.
Ahh, he loved this. Many people found spacesuits claustrophobic, and being out in the vastness of space without a metal hull surrounding them downright terrifying.
For Justyn, it was the opposite—the ultimate freedom. He found it damned exciting and exhilarating.
Nissa skimmed up beside him and even with the fierce look of concentration on her face, she was smiling.
They pointed themselves toward the nearby icy moon. Behind it, the green glow of the planet provided an intense backdrop. Minutes later, they were skimming across the moon’s cracked, dark surface.
The wreck appeared ahead. A large hulk looming up from the landscape.
Holy space dust, it was fairly intact. Awed, he took in all the details of the wreckage of what was once the Nero.
There was a large tear on the side closest to them. He pointed to it and Nissa nodded. It would be an easier option for entry than cutting their way in.
He nosed his skimmer in through the gaping hole, into what had once been a shuttle bay.
Once he and Nissa had moved all the way to the far wall, he activated the skimmer’s magna-brake. The sled dropped down to the metal floor and clung. Nissa secured hers as well.
“That way?” she said through the comm system built into the helmet. She pointed toward a double doorway leading into the ship’s interior.
He pushed off from the skimmer. The low gravity made walking tricky, so he jumped, sailing through the doorway. The door had been torn away and hung at a crooked angle. He adjusted the light attached to his helmet and moved into the corridor.
The light illuminated the tight space. A thousand years before, starships were smaller, with far less room. He made sure Nissa was right behind him as he made his way down the corridor, headed for the cargo bay.
Everywhere he looked, it was as still as a tomb. Any loose objects had long since floated away. Metal was torn and twisted, and pieces of wiring and paneling hung down from the ceiling.
Justyn squeezed past some metal sheeting blocking the corridor. “We should almost be at the cargo bay.”
Nissa glanced at the mini-Sync attached to her forearm. “Just around the corner.” She followed him past the debris.
He made the turn, then stifled a yell. A body floated gently past him.
He reached back and gripped Nissa’s arm before she ran into it.
“What?” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, Goddess.”
The body was frozen solid, mouth wide open, eyes glazed over.
Trapped here with a limited atmosphere, his body had been preserved.
He looked as though he’d only recently died—certainly not a thousand years ago.
Justyn just hoped the poor guy had moved on to a better place.
With a tug, Justyn pulled Nissa with him down the corridor.
“Cargo hold.” He gripped the edge of the door frame. The words “Cargo Bay 1” were emblazoned on the metal door.
He tried to open the door, but it was wedged shut. He withdrew an expandable pry bar from his tool belt, expanded it, and stuck it in the middle of the doors. With a few grunts, the door gave way and opened.
He shone the light around. “Fuck!”
“Oh, no. No, no.”
The entire cargo hold was gone. Ripped away. Only tatters of metal made up the remainder of the hull.
“What the fuck happened to them?” He studied the shredded wall. “Radiation didn’t do that.”
“They must have hit something.” Her voice sounded dejected. “It would have caused rapid decompression, they’d have lost control, and hit the moon.” She closed her eyes. “It’s gone. The Constitution is gone.”
“Hey.” He grabbed her helmet and tipped it up until he stared straight through her visor. “We still need to check the captain’s cabin.”
She pulled herself together. “Right.” She pulled up the schematics on her Sync. “It was right behind the bridge. At least we know the forward part of the ship is still intact.”
“Lead the way, Captain Sander.”
Their journey through the dead ship was eerie. A prickling feeling crept along the back of Justyn’s neck. He was a man always in motion, chasing what life had to give. This wreckage was nothing more than a tomb for the long-dead who’d lost their lives here. It gave him the creeps.
He pulled himself up a set of stairs behind Nissa, and let his attention focus on admiring her shapely ass highlighted by the tight spacesuit.
It wouldn’t be long before they’d have to head back to the Nomad.
He smiled to himself. When they were back up there, safe and sound, he’d sweet-talk the lovely captain into his bunk to do something life-affirming.
“Just down this corridor,” she said quietly, interrupting his little fantasy.
“Got it.”
The door to the captain’s cabin was closed. She tried the door but it didn’t move. Then she frowned, studying her Sync. “This can’t be right.”
“What?”
“My scans say that the cabin is still pressurized and has artificial gravity.”
His mouth dropped open. “No way. It can’t be.”
“Guess we’ll find out. Unbelievably, the door lock is still operational.” She pressed the Sync to the old-fashioned door lock. A second later, the Sync broke the code and the doors opened.
Air whooshed out in a blast. Gripping the door frame, they shoved themselves inside, and Nissa got the door closed again.
They dropped to the floor with a thud.
Justyn angled his head so his light illuminated the dark room. Everything in the cabin was in place. A double bunk against the back wall was neatly made, and a large, polished-wood desk sat in front of a large round window, giving a view of Sargasso.
“Unbelievable.” Nissa walked over to the desk. On the surface, books were stacked in neat piles. There was also a pile of dust that may have once been paper. A small glass container held old-fashioned pens, and a precursor to the modern-day Sync lay in the center of the space.
Justyn turned around slowly, noting the doorway to the small bathroom, and a lovely framed painting hanging on the far wall. It showed an ancient Terran ocean-going vessel battling a rough sea, its white sails unfurled. “It’s like Griffin just walked out.”
“Why is this room pressurized? The scans aren’t showing any pressure anywhere else on the ship.”
“The ship ran on nuclear power, right? Some small sliver of that power was obviously rerouted to keep this room in perfect condition.” He smiled. “Makes me wonder what they wanted to protect in here.”
Her smile matched his. “Let’s find out.”
Nissa swung her Sync around the room as it scanned the entire space. Beside her, Justyn was searching behind the painting for a safe.
“Damn, nothing,” he said.
“Too obvious.”
He moved onto the tiny closet, searching through the debris left inside. Probably the rotted remains of Captain Griffin’s clothes. After a cursory look, Justyn backed out quickly. “Man, something smells bad in there.”
A noise made her look up. She frowned, glancing over her shoulder. It sounded like…skittering.
She shook her head. Now she was hearing things. There was no way anything else could be here with them. She focused impatiently on the Sync. “Come on, come on.”
“The Constitution’s waited a thousand years, Nissa. I think it can wait another minute.”
“Maybe it can, but I can’t.” Again, a faint skittering noise. “Justyn, did you hear that?”
“What?”
“A noise. It sounded like…I’m not sure what.”
“You think something or someone survived in here for a thousand years?” There was amusement in his voice.
“Okay, laugh it up, but I heard something.”
“Probably some part of the ship keeping this room pressurized is starting to fail since there’s no one here to do maintenance.”
He was probably right. Her Sync beeped. “There’s something under the floor beneath the desk.”
Justyn shoved the heavy desk aside. Under the plush rug, they found a rectangular door set into the floor.
It was protected by an old-fashioned code lock.
Nissa knelt and set her Sync to work. It whirred quietly as it worked to decipher the code. The lock beeped and the door popped open an inch.
Her heart pounding, she stared at Justyn for a second.
He nodded. “Go on, Captain. You’ve earned this.”
“We’ve earned this.” She wouldn’t have made it this far without him. She grabbed his hand and placed it beside hers on the safe door. “Together.”
“Together.”
They yanked it open.
She shone her light directly inside.
The safe was empty.
“No.” Her stomach dropped to the floor. “It can’t be empty!”
“Wait.” He reached in and gave the bottom a knock with his fist. It gave a hollow thunk. He grinned. “Old smuggler’s trick.” He gave the fake floor a hard punch and it broke away.
Nestled beneath was a long metal cylinder.
“Goddess.” With trembling hands, she pulled it out. Swallowing past the knot in her throat, she waved the Sync over the cylinder. “Scan says it contains paper that appears to be over a thousand years old and is covered in protective plas.”
“Open it, Nissa.” His tone was solemn.
Her hand still shaking, she pulled the cap off the end.
She pulled out the document and simply stared.
The fake had been good, but this was clearly the real thing.
“The US Constitution.” Justyn laughed, tugging her to his side. “We did it!”
The document exuded a sense of age and history and importance. Nissa couldn’t wipe the silly smile off her face. She, Captain Nissa Sander, had found the US Constitution. Well, with a little help from a rogue smuggler.
She slid it back inside the cylinder. “We need to get back to the Nomad.”
He was still grinning. He bumped his helmet against hers. “Damn, if we weren’t wearing these things, I’d kiss you.”
“Well, hold that thought and I’ll kiss you once we get back.”
“You’re on, sweetheart.”
She was still smiling at him when something rammed into her legs from the side, knocking her to the floor. Her light swung wildly. The cylinder flew out of her hands and rolled across the floor.
The skittering noise was back.
Right near Nissa’s head.
And now she knew what was making that noise. Claws against the metal floor.