skimmed their surface. One vid went out, and a damage alarm went off, a wail of
depressurization alert.
Jon spun about, sought Jessad, who had been near the door. There was only
Kressich, mouth agape in the wail of sirens.
“We’re waiting for an answer,” another, deeper voice said out of com.
Jessad, gone. Jessad or someone had failed at Mariner and the station had died.
“Find Jessad!” Jon shouted at one of Hale’s men. “Get him! Take him out!”
“They’re coming in again!” a tech cried.
Jon whirled, stared at the screens, tried to talk and gestured wildly. “Com
link,” he shouted, and the tech passed him a mike. He swallowed, staring at the
oncoming behemoths on vid. “You have access,” he shouted into the mike, as he
tried to control his voice. “Repeat: this is Pell station-master Lukas. You have
access.”
“Say again,” Mallory’s voice returned to him. “Who are you?”
“Jon Lukas, acting stationmaster. Angelo Konstantin is dead. Please help us.”
There was silence from the other side. Scan began to alter, the big ships
diverting from near-collision course, dumping velocity perceptibly.
“Our riders will dock first,” Mallory’s voice declared. “Do you copy, Pell
station? Riders will dock in advance to serve as carrier dock crews. You give
them an assist in and then clear out of their way or face fire. For every
trouble we meet, we blow a hole in you.”
“We have riot conditions aboard,” Jon pleaded. “Q has broken confinement.”
“Do you copy my instructions, Mr. Lukas?”
“Pell copies clearly. Do you understand our problem? We can’t guarantee there’ll
be no trouble. Some of our docks are sealed off. We accept your troops in
assistance. We are devastated by riot. You will have our cooperation.”
There was long hesitation. Other blips had come into scan, the riders which
attended the carriers. “We copy,” Mallory said. “We will board with troops. Get
my number-one rider safely docked with your cooperation or we will blow
ourselves an access for troops and blow section by section, no survivors. That
is your clear choice.”
“We copy.” Jon wiped at his face. The sirens had died. There was a deathly hush
in the command center. “Give me time to get what security I can muster to the
most secure docks. Over.”
“You have half an hour, Mr. Lukas.”
He turned from com, waved a summons to one of his security guards, by the door.
“Pell copies. Half an hour. We’ll get you a dock clear.”
“Blue and green, Mr. Lukas. You see to it.”
“Blue and green docks,” he repeated hoarsely. “We’ll do our best.”
Mallory signed off. He pushed past com to key in the main com center. “Hale,” he
exclaimed. “Hale.”
Hale’s face appeared.
“General broadcast. All security to docks. Get blue and green docks clear for
operation.”
“Got it,” Hale said, and keyed out.
Jon strode across the room to the doorway where Kressich still stood. “Get back
on com. Get on and tell those people you claim to control to stay quiet. Hear?”
Kressich nodded. There was a distractedness in his eyes, a not quite sanity. Jon
seized him by the arm and dragged him to the com board, as the tech scrambled
out of the way. He set Kressich down, gave him the mike, stood listening as
Kressich addressed his lieutenants by name, calling on them to clear the
affected docks. Panic persisted in the corridors where they still had cameras to
see. Green nine showed milling throngs and smoke; and whatever they cleared
panicked mobs would pour into like air into vacuum.
“General alert,” Jon said to the chief at station one. “Sound the null G
warning.”
The woman turned, opened the security casing, punched the button beneath. A
buzzer began to sound, different and more urgent than all other warnings which
had wailed through Pell’s corridors. “Seek a secure place,” a voice interrupted
it at intervals. “Avoid large open areas. Go to the nearest compartment and seek
an emergency hold. Should extreme gravity loss occur, remember the orientation
arrows and observe them as station stabilizes… Seek a secure place…”
Panic in the halls became headlong flight, battering at doors, screaming.
“Throw G off,” Jon sent to the op coordinator. “Give us a variation they can