Accord of Mars (Accord Series Book 2) Read Online Free
Author: Kevin McLaughlin
air escaping the room. The station’s systems detected the leak. Alarms blared, the lights all went red, and blast doors slammed down over the exit. The bad guys weren’t going to come in after us - and the extra protection might help against the bomb.
If it wasn’t right in the room with us, anyway. For all I knew, it might be.
Chapter 5
Nicholas Stein
T he freezing gas from the extinguisher was venting into space. I could see puffs of the stuff floating around the small hole I’d made. I kept blasting more gas through it. Icy tendrils were spreading through the glass now. It was a laminate, made up of multiple layers for strength. But with the gas slipping inside and freezing, the lamination was being compromised.
That ship bound for Earth was slipping away from its mooring, building up speed. How far would it have to be before the attackers thought it was safe to blow their bomb? They weren’t taking chances with the cargo. But I had no time left.
I fired again. This time, the bullet went right through, and cracks spread up and down the glass. I fired another time. Another penetration, another spider web of cracks.
I had two bullets left in the gun.
What the hell. I fired both shots in rapid succession. The first created one more set of cracks. The last shot made an impact crater that seemed for a moment to join all of the cracks I’d made together - and then a three foot section of the window simply exploded. What was left of the air in our compartment went out through the hole, pushing the chunks of the window away.
I grabbed George’s hand and jumped. The wind pulled us through the gap, and we were drifting off into space.
Behind us, there was a flash of light. The bomb wasn’t in George’s office, but it was someplace damned close. The blast created a concussion wave that ripped apart station bulkheads. The compression alarm would have dropped sealed doors all over this section of the station, but those didn’t seem to be stopping the blast wave entirely. I watched fires bloom as the force blasted its way through the hull.
Something zipped past my face - a bit of metal shrapnel, thrown our way from the detonation. Another one skimmed past us. The third hit me in the leg. I felt a stabbing pain, and then heard something worse - the angry hiss of air escaping my suit, and the beep inside my helmet telling me that my little life raft had been compromised.
I reached down and grabbed the spot where I’d been hit - the fleshy bit on the outside of my left thigh. I managed to grunt, instead of scream. The metal was still there, embedded in my leg like a splinter the size of a pen. I wrapped my hand around the spot as tightly as I could, and the hissing slowed. I was still losing air, though.
“Nick, thanks,” George said. His voice was shaking, but he was holding up pretty well under the circumstances. “Now what?”
It was a good question. I didn’t have an immediate answer. These weren’t real space suits we were wearing. They were designed to help people survive a short decompression and airlessness if something failed and part of the station was exposed to space. They weren’t going to keep us warm for very long, and they had very limited oxygen supplies. Much of which I was still venting through the hole in my leg.
But we still had a shot. There was a ship in space nearby - the one carrying the uranium back to Earth. And fortunately, it was one of mine. I keyed the radio in my helmet to the Stein company channel.
“Archimedes, this is Nicholas Stein. Reverse course and return for search and rescue immediately,” I said.
The answer took only a moment. I had well trained crews, and I didn’t make direct demands of them often. “Yes sir! We were already diverting to do so. We’ll be on site in a few minutes.”
I tried to relax. We’d be picked up shortly. My leg was on fire, but the injury was nothing that wouldn’t mend. The same could probably be said for the station. I was able to
If it wasn’t right in the room with us, anyway. For all I knew, it might be.
Chapter 5
Nicholas Stein
T he freezing gas from the extinguisher was venting into space. I could see puffs of the stuff floating around the small hole I’d made. I kept blasting more gas through it. Icy tendrils were spreading through the glass now. It was a laminate, made up of multiple layers for strength. But with the gas slipping inside and freezing, the lamination was being compromised.
That ship bound for Earth was slipping away from its mooring, building up speed. How far would it have to be before the attackers thought it was safe to blow their bomb? They weren’t taking chances with the cargo. But I had no time left.
I fired again. This time, the bullet went right through, and cracks spread up and down the glass. I fired another time. Another penetration, another spider web of cracks.
I had two bullets left in the gun.
What the hell. I fired both shots in rapid succession. The first created one more set of cracks. The last shot made an impact crater that seemed for a moment to join all of the cracks I’d made together - and then a three foot section of the window simply exploded. What was left of the air in our compartment went out through the hole, pushing the chunks of the window away.
I grabbed George’s hand and jumped. The wind pulled us through the gap, and we were drifting off into space.
Behind us, there was a flash of light. The bomb wasn’t in George’s office, but it was someplace damned close. The blast created a concussion wave that ripped apart station bulkheads. The compression alarm would have dropped sealed doors all over this section of the station, but those didn’t seem to be stopping the blast wave entirely. I watched fires bloom as the force blasted its way through the hull.
Something zipped past my face - a bit of metal shrapnel, thrown our way from the detonation. Another one skimmed past us. The third hit me in the leg. I felt a stabbing pain, and then heard something worse - the angry hiss of air escaping my suit, and the beep inside my helmet telling me that my little life raft had been compromised.
I reached down and grabbed the spot where I’d been hit - the fleshy bit on the outside of my left thigh. I managed to grunt, instead of scream. The metal was still there, embedded in my leg like a splinter the size of a pen. I wrapped my hand around the spot as tightly as I could, and the hissing slowed. I was still losing air, though.
“Nick, thanks,” George said. His voice was shaking, but he was holding up pretty well under the circumstances. “Now what?”
It was a good question. I didn’t have an immediate answer. These weren’t real space suits we were wearing. They were designed to help people survive a short decompression and airlessness if something failed and part of the station was exposed to space. They weren’t going to keep us warm for very long, and they had very limited oxygen supplies. Much of which I was still venting through the hole in my leg.
But we still had a shot. There was a ship in space nearby - the one carrying the uranium back to Earth. And fortunately, it was one of mine. I keyed the radio in my helmet to the Stein company channel.
“Archimedes, this is Nicholas Stein. Reverse course and return for search and rescue immediately,” I said.
The answer took only a moment. I had well trained crews, and I didn’t make direct demands of them often. “Yes sir! We were already diverting to do so. We’ll be on site in a few minutes.”
I tried to relax. We’d be picked up shortly. My leg was on fire, but the injury was nothing that wouldn’t mend. The same could probably be said for the station. I was able to
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