Birthright: Book I of the Temujin Saga (26 page)

Sam nodded. “Good. Don’t worry about balancing. Let the gyroscopes do all the work.”

Cherry nodded. Sam let her drift away until his arms were fully extended and then — despite her protests — let go of her hands. She reached for him as their fingers came apart and rocked forward, but she remained airborne.

“See?” Sam said. “Easy.”

Cherry looked down at her feet. “I’m
flying
!” She laughed.

“I found the edge,” Moe called.

Sam drifted toward his brother, and Cherry, still unsure of the suit, stayed within arm’s reach of him.

Finally the others positioned themselves at the edges of the invisible ship and signaled to Sam. He did a few quick calculations in his head and hovered to an area toward the rear of the ship, feeling along the surface until his fingers disappeared into invisible grooves. With a turn of his wrists, a circular panel the size of a manhole cover came away and the cloaking failed, leaving the panel in his hands a dull black color. Sam dropped the panel and stared up at the conspicuous black hole in an otherwise flawless sky.

“This is it,” he said.

One by one, the others followed Sam into the ship and found themselves in a vast, albeit mostly empty, cargo hold. Sam tapped the side of his helmet and the view on the inside of his visor switched from shadows to green night vision. He scanned the room, looking for any signs of human life, but the display remained green. He turned to the others, giving a nod before leading the way to the exit. Once at the door, he turned and switched his helmet’s communication settings to radio only, silencing the external speakers.

“Okay,” he said. “The corridor outside this door will take you all the way to the bridge. Just keep going straight. Temujin’s quarters are on Deck C. There’s an elevator about fifty yards ahead.”

“We should split into two teams,” Lamont said. “One to take control of the bridge, and the other to rescue the prisoners.”

“Good idea,” Sam said. He turned and walked away.

Moe grabbed his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the engine room,” said Sam. “Somebody has to bring this behemoth down.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Moe.

“No.” Sam shook his head. “They’ll need you to take the bridge.”

Moe stepped toe to toe with his brother. “I still don’t trust you. Your track record still stands… Traitor.”

“I got you this far, didn’t I?”

“You got Alex on this ship,” said Moe. “Which is exactly what your boss wanted. Isn’t it?”

“It’s not like that, Moe,” said Sam, his voice barely over a whisper.

“You bring this ship down, and I’ll believe you,” said Moe.

“Guilty until proven innocent, eh?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Fine,” Sam growled. “Just try not to slow me down.”

“Okay,” said Lamont. “Alex and I will go after Crystal and Quintin. Can I count on you three to take the bridge?”

“Sure,” said Robert. “But are you sure the two of you can handle Temujin alone? I mean, he’s sure to have all kinds of security up there. Maybe I—”

“No,” said Sam. “Temujin keeps his security to a minimum. He doesn’t like being surrounded by his followers. He thinks they smell bad… well, he’s right. But, no, the most resistance will probably come from Chuluun and Temujin himself.”

“Let’s do it, then,” said Alex. “My girlfriend’s up there with that lunatic.”

“All right,” said Sam with a curt salute. “See you on the ground.”

“How will we know when you’ve disabled the engines?” Alex called as Sam and Moe disappeared into the gloom.

“Oh, you’ll know,” Sam said.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sam could almost feel his brother’s gaze boring through the back of his head as he led the way through the darkened corridor. The silence between them was suffocating. Only the clanking of their boots and the whisper-soft whirring of servos inside their armor filled the air between them.

“You got something you want to say to me, little sister?”

“Yeah,” said Moe coldly. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“The kids.”

Moe stopped dead in his tracks at these words. “What?”

Sam sighed and stopped. “The kids. When Temujin told me he planned to attack the school, I tried to change his mind, but he wouldn’t listen. I wanted to stop him, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do anything about it.”

Moe remained silent.

“But then there was an accident on the loading platform,” Sam said, “and suddenly everything became clear. It was like a haze was lifted from my mind, and everything I’ve done for the past three years became pointless and wrong. Then I remembered the children, and the Death Walkers he was planning to use against them. I got angry. First with myself, but then I realized I was really angry with
him
.

“I tried to stop him,” Sam continued, “but I wasn’t fast enough. So I stole the armor prototypes and escaped. You know the rest.”

Moe took a deep breath, his armored shoulders rising and falling with the action. Finally he slapped his brother on his arm, their armor connecting with a dull
clang
. “Let’s go. The others are counting on us.”

Sam allowed himself the smallest of smiles and nodded to his brother. They continued down the corridor, finally coming to a large circular door.

Sam patted it. “The coolant delivery system is on the other side. Past that is the engine room. Let’s just hope they didn’t change the access codes.”

“Leave that to me.”

Sam touched a pad on the wall and the door slid open like an iris. The Replodians stepped inside and surveyed their surroundings. Lining both walls were six thick pipes, all crusted over with a layer of frost. Moe shuddered involuntarily even though his suit kept his body temperature constant.

“Whatever you do, don’t fire your weapons in here,” Sam said. “That isn’t Kool-Aid in those pipes. You nick one of those and you can kiss your butt goodbye.”

“What’s in them?”

“Liquid nitrogen,” said Sam. “Now let’s go.”

“After you,” Moe grumbled, giving the coolant pipes a wide berth.

They followed the corridor to a narrow, single-paneled door equipped with a keypad, the numbers an iridescent blue. Sam reached out and tapped in a long sequence of numbers on the keypad. The keys flashed red, and Sam punched the wall.

“Damn it!”

“They changed it?”

Sam nodded.

Moe forced his way past his brother. “Step aside.”

“Be my guest, but you can’t crack it.”

“Oh, ye o’ little faith,” said Moe, carefully pulling the face of the keypad off the wall.

“Hey! Be careful with that. You could set off the alarm.”

“No, I won’t,” said Moe patiently, sorting wires into separate bundles between his fingers.

“Hell,
I
could do that,” said Sam.

“Too late,” said Moe. “It’s my turn now. You had your chance.”

“I designed this system, and I know it better than anybody,” said Sam. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Please,” Moe scoffed. “Anything you can do, I can do better.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t,” said Sam, his voice becoming childish.

“Yes,” Moe growled through gritted teeth. “I
can
. Now shut up and let me work.”

“Can’t crack it,” said Sam stubbornly.

Moe sighed. “This would be a lot easier if you weren’t breathing in my ear.”

“Fine!” Sam walked away.

“Ah ha!” Moe said triumphantly. “I see what you did. Tricky, tricky. Not bad, actually. Kind of impressive as a matter of fact, but all I have to do is pull these five wires here, and—”

“Fire in the hole!”

Moe’s head snapped up. “What?”

He turned and saw Sam walking toward him, carrying a long, cylindrical gas canister. Sam raised an armored fist and brought it down hard on the valve, snapping it clean off and releasing a stream of white vapor. Moe dove out of the way as his brother sprayed the door from top to bottom with liquid nitrogen. After a few seconds, the door was encrusted with a thick coating of ice. Sam tossed the spent canister over his shoulder and kicked the door dead center, shattering it into a million frozen shards.

Sam stepped over the threshold and paused midstride. “Or would that be ‘ice in the hole?’ ‘Fire in the hole’ just doesn’t seem appropriate in this context.”

Moe peeked out from around a corner. “Damn it, Samrai! I had it!”

“Tick tock, little sister.” Sam stepped through the steaming doorway. “Let’s go.”

Moe started to follow his brother through the doorway, but paused and looked down at the keypad, still dangling by the wires. He reached out to pluck the five wires he had been prepared to pull before Sam’s stunt. The keys flashed green.

“Son-of-a—” Moe tossed the keypad aside and stepped over the threshold. “Jerk.”

He stepped onto a railed catwalk, barely wide enough for even one person. The catwalk ran between two giant turbines, both roaring deafeningly as they spun. Moe was so engrossed in the colossal machinery that he almost bumped into his brother. Sam gave him the briefest of over-the-shoulder glances and returned to gazing at the turbines.

“Are these the engines?” asked Moe.

Sam nodded. “Part of ‘em. The rest is in another room farther back.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Moe wrenched a piece of pipe from the railing and brandished it like a club. “Let’s get to breaking stuff.”

Sam sighed. “Three years, Moe. I spent the first three years of my life building this monstrosity, thinking it was my purpose, that it was the
right
thing to do. I’m responsible for everything that’s happened today. It’s my fault. All of it.”

Moe nodded. “Well, you can’t change the past, but I do know what will make you feel better.”

“What’s that?”

Moe held out the pipe. “Senseless and wanton destruction of private property.”

Sam took the pipe, hefted it in his hand for a moment, and then threw it into the turbine to his right. The pipe slipped between two blades and — like a stick in a bicycle’s spokes — the turbine caught and groaned to a reluctant halt. The air was filled with the grinding of metal on metal and the whine of straining machinery. A flash of light flickered inside the stalled turbine, followed by an immense fireball erupting from between the blades. The ship pitched, and the Replodians grabbed the railing.

“Will that do it?” Moe yelled over the roar.

Sam nodded. “The other engine will fail under the strain. We only have a few minutes to get clear.”

Moe turned and ran toward the door. “Well then, let’s blow this joint.”

Sam started to follow, but he slowed and looked back at the smoking turbine.

“It’s not enough,” he muttered.

As they crossed the threshold into the corridor, Sam stopped and looked at the frosty coolant pipes lining the walls. “Hey, Moe.”

Moe stopped running and turned toward his brother.

“Remember what I said about firing our weapons in here?”

“I don’t think I like where this line of questioning is going,” said Moe.

Sam raised his arms and primed both ion cannons. “Fly.”

“Oh, hell,” Moe breathed. He ran a few steps and pushed off the ground, engaging his boot thrusters.

Sam engaged his own thrusters, twisted in the air onto his back, and aimed his arm cannons at the pipes lining each wall behind him. He opened fire, spraying the hallway with alternating rapid-fire green ion blasts. Thick, white vapor erupted violently from the pipes with every blast. He twisted in the air again and surged forward to catch up to Moe, clearing the door with the sub-zero cloud right on his rocket-powered heels.

On the other side, Moe punched the pad beside the door. As the iris closed, he shouted,
“Comeoncomeoncomeon!”

A thin plume of vapor escaped just before the iris closed on it, sealing off the gas. The Replodians watched as the door slowly frosted over.

“Wooooo!” Sam hooted with delight. “Let’s go on that ride again!”

“Let’s not,” said Moe, his eyes locked on the expanding crust of ice.

Suddenly, a floor grate near the door exploded upward, and a column of the frigid vapor erupted into the room. The Replodians jumped as a second grate, this one directly in front of them, was thrown into the air and unleashed yet another cloud.

“What’s happening?” Moe shouted.

Sam pulled his brother to his feet and dragged him down the hall, narrowly avoiding a third grate blowing. “No time to explain. Just run!”

Sam cursed himself as the hall behind them filled with nitrogen gas. In his brashness, he’d forgotten the liquid-to-gas expansion ratio of liquid nitrogen and had inadvertently started a chain reaction that would soon fill the
Ragnarok
with the only substance on Earth lethal to Replodians, not to mention humans.

Sam opened a comm channel to the other teams. “Out! Everybody out, now!”

The ship pitched again as the second engine failed, and he nearly lost his balance. Sam engaged his boot thrusters and Moe quickly did the same, trying to keep up with his brother.

“What’s happening?” Moe shouted.

“The coolant system’s gone critical,” Sam explained as he passed through the door to the cargo hold. “The ship’s filling up with nitrogen gas.”

“What?” Moe shouted. “What about the others?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Heavy, armored boots clanked loudly on the steel grating of the corridor leading from the
Ragnarok
’s cargo bay. Alex scanned the hall for any sign of the elevator Sam had mentioned, but so far only unlabeled, featureless doors lined the walls every twelve feet.

“These must be barracks,” Rene observed.

“Yeah,” said Robert. “Which begs the question, where are all the soldiers?”

A door several yards ahead opened and a dozen troopers strode down the hall toward them. For a moment, they were lost in boisterous, celebratory conversation, but stopped dead in their tracks when they noticed the armored figures.

Rene looked at Robert. “You were saying?”

“Now what?” asked Cherry.

“Take them,” Lamont ordered. “Before they raise the alarm!”