Outcasts of Gideon

The Aion : Part 2

Dewey strapped himself into his seat, the word "dissociated" still echoing in his mind. He looked toward the main controls. Reaching up, he strained against the straps. As he did, his forearm brushed the thrusters, causing the shuttle to lurch to port. For the first time he regretted having the controls placed so high. Killing the thrusters, he cursed himself. The familiar flush of his face followed.

Through the small portal, he could see the stars moving past. The shuttle turned, aiming toward nothing. He punched in Titan as a destination. He fired thrusters again, this time correcting their orientation. Confirming the intercom was still on, he prepared to fire main engines. "Strap in."

"We're all ready."

Dewey triggered the reactor. The shuttle began to shake again. Through the vibrations he heard Mister Lackey shout to him, "This is too fast. Can we go slower?"

Dewey saw warning lights, but the shaking in the pilot's cabin wasn't bad. He cut thrust in half, hoping that would be enough. The Aion had always been fine running up to 2.5 G. It wasn't even 1.5 when he killed the engine. At this reduced pace, it would take them even longer to get to Titan.

He fired the engine again. This time he kept the thrust closer to 1 G. There were no warning lights. He calculated their burn, leaving enough fuel to slow on their approach to Titan. They would burn for close to five minutes. That would leave them over two weeks of float.

They burned for the prescribed time. Killing the main engines, Dewey locked the system down and shut off the intercom. Making his way down the ladder, he slowed his descent. He didn't like bringing bad news.

"I don't know what we did to her, Mister L. The ship's not good with high G. And by high, I mean two."

"How long is it going to take us at this speed? I assume you used all the fuel you could."

"Yes, leavin' enough to brake."

"So what's the damage?"

"About two weeks."

Mister Lackey closed his eyes. "So we're on the run from the Damasos with no fuel. The shuttle is falling apart. We're looking at two weeks of no food or water."

"We won't last that long." Dewey knew he didn't need to say that.

"Let's not forget the batteries will run out before that, so it's gonna get cold."

Dewey found a seat and strapped himself down.

"Can't we call someone?" asked Dawn.

Grant shook his head. "The authorities would be happy to send someone out to get us. Then we're back to being searched and impounded."

"That beats freezing to death, doesn't it?"

"It may be our only option. Not yet, though. Let me think. Maybe there's something else we could do."

"What about Bobby?"

"What about him? Sound asleep."

"I mean, he said you had something that would help. Can we use that?" Dawn got up, propelling herself over the back of her seat. "Where's the satchel? I'll bring it to you."

"I'm not going into that bag."

Dawn stopped above him. "Look, Mister Lackey, we have to do something. Think about it. Bobby brings some strange artifact onboard. It could be an alien device. Then he tells you that the thing he's never seen – you've never seen – might get us to Earth. Don't you think that's worth looking into?"

Mister Lackey frowned. He hitched a thumb toward the back of the cabin. "It's tucked under one of the seats in the last row."

Dawn pushed her way over the seats. Dewey felt a tug of jealousy. He spent a few hours weightless every day and he wasn't as graceful as she was getting around. She ducked behind the back row, emerging with the black leather satchel. As she made her way forward, she left it afloat by her boss.