Bug Park by James P. Hogan

Michelle found the floor of the boat with a foot and steadied it. . . .

And then she realized what the KE mec had been trying to convey to her in the engine room. The pipe that the other mec had been trying to cut—probably a fuel line—was too big. The KE had wanted her to break it with something. Now, after everything, because Michelle hadn’t understood, Vanessa, Payne, all of them, were about to get away.

Michelle stood agonizing, with one foot in the boat. She could write it off as a lost cause and get herself away at least; or she could go back, now that she knew what was needed, and at least try to do something. The water beneath the stern of the Princess Dolores began churning, almost settling her decision by throwing her out of the boat. A voice called from the direction of the bridge, “Cast off aft.” Footsteps sounded from the far side of the fantail above.

Michelle hung on and turned her head, looking down and then back. . . . And as her eyes roamed over the docks behind her as if seeking guidance, an astonishing sight greeted her: Ohira’s car was pulling onto the quay, the wreckage of the chain-link gate still trailing from one side of the hood. There seemed to be some commotion back along the access road, where the gate attendant was out of his box, waving his arms, other figures turning and shouting. Even as Michelle stared in astonishment, Eric’s van appeared where the gate had been, with another car following behind.

Somehow, they were here! They just needed a few more minutes.

Still not certain what she intended doing, Michelle reversed direction and hauled herself back onto the swim platform. As she released her grip on the handrail, the KE mec fell away into the boat bobbing below. Michelle had completely forgotten that she was still clasping it. She climbed back to the fishing cockpit, crawled across the deck to the hatch, and lowered her head to look into the engine compartment.

Even just turning over, the diesels drowned any noise she might have made. The space between the engines was clear, but she could see the shadow of the engineer moving at the far end, near the cubbyhole that she had passed by, and the locker space where the other hatch was.

Then a sudden whoosh sounded from somewhere above. A crimson glow erupted on the far side of the ship’s launch stowed on the boat deck, and a cloud of pink smoke rose from the vicinity of the bridge. Voices shouted above, and seconds later a bell began ringing in the engine compartment below. Michelle looked inside the hatch again, in time to see the engineer turn away, talking into a phone headset, and then disappear to the side in the direction of the locker space ladder and hatch, apparently going up to the deck to see what was happening.

Michelle didn’t really make the decision; some kind of higher self that had assessed the situation faster and more accurately took over. Dropping down through the hatch, she made her way forward between the engines to the place where the KE had guided her before. The mec with the saw was still there but no longer moving. Michelle looked around, spied a bench and rack with tools, searched along it. . . . She picked up a hefty-looking wrench and weighed it experimentally. There seemed to be plenty of clout there. She selected a bend in the pipe that the mec had been tackling, near a joint that a hard blow or two would stand a good chance of opening, aimed, steadied, and swung with both hands. The pipe didn’t break away clean, but the joint ruptured enough to send liquid cascading out over the floor. For good measure, she broke a set of glass spirit gauges full of reddish liquid to send that spurting over the engine compartment too, then dropped the wrench and retreated back up through the hatch.

There seemed to be a fire up above, with figures running about in consternation on the boat deck. An alarm siren began sounding somewhere along the lakeside. Figures were running along the quay. Something fell from above where Michelle was crouching and clattered across the deck. She looked up and had just glimpsed the metal face peering down from beneath the fantail rail when a voice called her name from the direction of the dock. She looked across and realized that the Dolores had begun to move.

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