Virus (28 page)

She was strong, but he was stronger. The sound of wrenching metal came up through the grate, pounding and tearing as the creature searched for a way through.

Foster managed to deliver a solid kick to his shin and he leaned over her, looked into the panic and fear and tried to find the right words to make her listen.

“We don’t have time! Look, Richie only built this for one, and you’re it—you have to go!”

She stopped struggling and their gazes locked, and Steve had so much he wanted to tell her, so many things that he wanted her to know—

The pounding had finally made it to the grate.

Foster leaned forward and then they were kissing, hard, hungry, and surging, the passion sweeping through him like a shock. Every part of him tingled and sang—

—and breaking the kiss was like a physical pain, but he couldn’t let her die. He scooped up the control box and stepped away from the chair, filled with too many emotions that he couldn’t name.

Two buttons and a toggle switch. He flipped the switch and a tiny red light appeared over the first button.

Crash!

The floor behind them exploded upwards, the heavy grate ripped aside as two massive steel arms burst into the room, clutching at the shattered deck.

Steve hit the first button and the bay shuddered around them, but the engine didn’t fire. The sound of screaming wind blasted through the missile tube as a thick plate of metal rose up behind the rocket motor, a blast deflector shield—

—and the creature clawed into the bay, its huge body tearing away more of the steel flooring as it pushed itself through. Brilliant blue arcs of electricity crackled across its entire body, the cracked lens of one eye oozing murky fluid, its tattered arms reaching out for him as it crawled onto the deck—

—and he leapt onto the platform and thrust the controls at Foster. The monster rose up slowly, would lunge for them at any second—he had to run, try and distract it—

“Push the button and GO!”

Steve turned to jump—

—and couldn’t. He looked down, saw that she had hooked a harness strap through his life jacket.

“Not without you!”

The monstrous creature took a single massive step towards them, and Steve grabbed on to the back of the chair, ducked—

—and Foster pushed the button.

• 30 •

T
here was a tremendous blast of power as cable uncoiled on the deck of the
Volkov’s
missile bay at an amazing rate. The alien lurched towards the whizzing mass of line and searched its collected data for an explanation; there was none.

It turned towards the multifarious collection that was connected to the end of the cable just as the cable ran out—

—and four trillion kilowatts detonated in the chamber and blew the alien intelligence out of existence.

The explosion ripped through the Russian vessel, the sound of it drowning out the dying typhoon that stretched across the
Volkov’s
path. A hundred feet of the ship’s belly was driven deep into the ocean below as more than half of the starboard hull exploded outward, threw red-hot metal and flaming debris hundreds of feet away. A giant fireball mushroomed up into the sky above the ship, the rising flames punching a hole in the tropical storm that held for just under a full minute.

Water boiled and evaporated in the immediate vicinity of the
Volkov.
The ocean surface cratered and pushed out a shock wave of several hundred tons of foaming seawater as the steam rose to join the fire, whiting out the black, swirling clouds of Leiah.

The
Vladislav Volkov
keeled over and sank.

Two hours after Foster and Steve landed in a raging sea, the dregs of typhoon Leiah blew past them and revealed a clear and sunny afternoon sky. They held on to each other, Foster trying to warm him with her body as the swells of the gently rocking ocean swept them through an endless plain of murky blue. In spite of her efforts, his teeth chattered violently and he couldn’t stop shaking.

They hardly spoke for the next three hours, although both of them smiled when the charred and burnt wreckage started to drift by. And when the drone of the helicopter reached them a short time later, they kissed for the second time.

Two burly crew members from the Research Vessel
Norfolk
gently lowered Foster to the deck and onto a stretcher, while two others placed Steve next to her, wrapped tightly in thermal blankets. Foster closed her eyes for a moment, sleepy in spite of the excited voices of the
Norfolk’s
crew and the flurry of activity around them.

“Hey, Foster,” Steve said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

She turned her head, saw that he was looking at her quite seriously.

“You mean it?”

He reached out and took her hand, staring into her eyes for a long moment. Then he grinned, a boyish smile that lit up his face and made her heart beat faster.

The storm had finally passed.

Hiko hobbled out into the sunlight from the bridge of the
Norfolk
and nodded at what he saw. Steve and Foster, holding hands like giddy children. He wasn’t all that surprised.

“Need another hand?” he called, and they both looked up, startled.

Hiko grinned.
Oh, to have a camera!

“Hiko!”

He lurched towards them, still smiling in spite of the awkwardness of trying to keep balanced. His leg was heavily bandaged and the cast on his arm had him lurching around like an old woman. The medic on board said two months, so he supposed he’d get used to it eventually . . .

Foster stood up as he approached and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Hiko grinned down at Steve over her shoulder and then she was standing back, staring at him. He saw that her eyes were wet with tears.

“How did you—?”

Hiko pointed across at the growing pile of wreckage that the
Norfolk
crew had been dragging out of the
moana
all day. The life preserver was still visible beneath a clutter of burnt wood, the legend
Sea Star
inscribed on the side.

Steve shook his head in amazement as Foster sat back down next to him. “You made it!”

Hiko nodded. “I faced my fear. I survived—”

There was a strange, high-pitched squeal from across the deck and all three of them whipped around, Hiko clutching for the
wahaika
that he had carried through the storm—

—and saw the ship’s crane lowering the rescue boat onto the deck, the massive arm bending down in a screech of grinding metal.

He looked back at the two of them, saw the same sheepish smile on the
Pakeha
faces that he knew he wore. They were holding hands again.

Foster turned to Steve. “There’ll be no machines on that island of yours.”

“Or electricity,” said Steve, and Hiko shook his head in mock disgust. Love could be a terrible, terrible thing, at least to watch.

Hiko stepped aside as the sailors finally came over to lift the two stretchers and take Steve and Foster down to the sick bay.

Steve called to Hiko as he was picked up, still gripping Foster’s hand tightly. “So what
does
your name mean, anyway?”

Hiko grinned. The translation wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough.

“Lightning.”

The four crewmen carried the two away before he could see their response, but Hiko didn’t mind. He hobbled to the railing of the
Norfolk,
feeling tired but at peace as he looked out over the giant sea and felt the sun warm on his skin.

He decided that when the cast came off, he was going to learn how to swim.