“Don’t die,” Marten whispered. He checked the monitor. It was the air-mixture. There was far too much carbon dioxide in the cylinder. He realized that he’d adjusted for the ship, but the controls on Omi’s system were still recycling the badly-mixed air.
Marten used the emergency release handle. The hatch hissed. Marten swung the hatch open.
His friend stopped twitching and the blueness faded from his skin. After a minute, Marten slid Omi back into the cylinder. He stood and watched for a half-hour.
Then he returned to the oversized pilot’s chair. He had to decide where to go. Before he could, he needed to know more about Mars. He studied the computer files until he found and read HB intelligence reports on the Red Planet. The information surprised him.
Mars had rebelled against its Social Unity garrisons. A single Doom Star had orbited Mars as the Highborn exterminated SU military personnel on the habitats and on the two moons. According to what Marten read, many SU personnel had escaped onto the surface. In other words, part of Mars belonged to Social Unity and the rest was in Rebel hands. The Doom Star had then departed the Mars System. As their last act, they’d installed the Rebels in the surviving orbital military installations.
Marten tapped at the console. The Highborn had left the Rebels, the Mars Planetary Union as they called themselves, in control of near orbital space. The Martians were separate from the Highborn and separate from Social Unity. Might the Mars Planetary Union welcome an ex-military man? Might they greet with open arms an independent captain owning a shuttle?
Marten rechecked the computer. An hour later, he hooked a line to the latch outside the airlock. Marten wore a vacc-suit, with a toolkit on his belt. He floated as stars shined all around him. Behind him, the Sun blazed. Marten magnetized his boots and clanked along the shuttle’s hull. Soon, he reached the friend-or-foe device. He knelt and extracted a wrench from his kit. For the next twenty minutes, he loosened bolts. It brought back fond memories of working with Nadia on the repair pod.
Finally, he detached the unit. He pulled so it floated upward. Then he crouched under it and heaved with all his strength. The friend-or-foe device sailed away into the void.
Let the Highborn monitor that on their computers.
Grinning within his vacc-suit, Marten began clanking back to the airlock. He coiled the safety line as he did so. Once at the airlock, he pressed the switch. But nothing happened. The outer hatch remained shut.
Marten frowned, and tried again. Again, nothing happened. He blinked in growing concerning. Then it hit him. He’d never operated many Highborn-built spaceships. Was this a different design from the ships he’d used while growing up around the Mercury Factory? Maybe it was a Highborn security device, an airlock that couldn’t be opened from the outside.
Marten banged on the hatch. After several blows, he realized that would do nothing at all. Omi was in the medical unit. He was stuck out here in space, with a limited air supply. He’d better think of something else fast.