“You’re certain you have the timing element worked out?” Galatea asked. She had the fuel bar tester flipped over, with the back panel removed. They’d had to cut it off using a combination of Galatea’s microtools and Regan’s monomolecular sword edge, but being able to put it back together was fairly low on their list of priorities.
“Fairly certain,” Regan said. She held a small metal cylinder wrapped in tape. “It’s more o’ a fuse than a fuse, so to speak. It should be able withstand the energy feed for about five seconds or so, an’ then it burns out, like.”
“And that clears a path for the intentional short-circuit, which should make the unstable fuel bar burn off rapidly,” Galatea said. “We just have to splice it in.”
“Put your finger there,” Galatea said, jabbing the stylus-like device at the wire she wanted Regan to hold. She neglected to turn off the laser first, though, and ended up slicing through it. “Space!” she said. “This would be easier if I had another free hand to use. I just knew I should have gone for the laser eye surgery.”
With only a few more missteps, they managed to integrate Regan’s fuse, along with the intentional flaw that would turn the fuel bar tester into a fuel bar waster.
“Done,” Galatea proclaimed, once their modifications were securely welded into place.
“An’ with apparently plenty o’ time to spare,” Regan said. “Normally, ya’d expect a bunch o’ ghouls or zombies or the like to burst in, an’ I’d have to fight them off while you finish up.”
“Yes, well, I suppose we can be very glad that our opponents weren’t given a copy of your script, then,” Galatea said. “Now, we have to get the good bar to the engine room and then we can work out how to deliver our improvised explosive device to our enemy’s ship.”
“Half right,” Regan said. “You take the bar down an’ I go off to deliver the boom. Quicker that way, right?”
“You mean you expect me to carry a gold bar all the way down the stairs by myself?”
“At least it’s down,” Regan said. “Ya can roll it like a log for all that I care. Anyway, I’m stuck with the heavier one, aren’t I? On top o’ the casing, it’s stuffed full o’ bomb.”
“It’s actually less dense, you miserable cretin,” Galatea said. She highed, squared off her shoulders, and picked up the improvised sack containing the bar, using both hands to lift it. “How the void a stunted little thing like you managed to carry this so effortlessly, without the benefits of my breeding and engineering…”
“Blah, blah, genetics,” Regan said. “Go on an’ get it taken care of.”
Though some of the ghouls had ended up floundering weightless in the vast space of the cargo hold, the ones who were near the floors or walls or had been able to push themselves within reach of them were able to latch onto metal grating or pipes and seams in the walls and scuttle around on all fours.
Some of them stalked Leo through the maze of shipping crates, the unsecured ones of which had begun to drift apart from each other, while others worked on shifting the logjam of toppled containers which blocked the portal between the ships.
“Lilliana,” Leo said through his communicator. “Still got the gravistat online?”
“I can get it back in a second,” she replied. “You need me to restore gravity?”
“No!” Leo said, quickly… and too loudly, he realized, as he heard howls and shrieks from the ghouls in the surrounding area. “Not just yet.”
The stacks of crates above him had shifted as their impact-resistant material slowly relaxed from the constraints weight had placed upon them. They’d all come crashing down when gravitation was restored. That was part of the plan. The other part involved him being above it all.
A pair of ghouls rounded the corner. The sound of gnashing teeth from above made him look up and he saw a couple more rapidly descending from the ceiling, twisting as they fell to face him.
“You got the ’stat ready?” Leo asked.
“Yeah… wait. Yes,” Lilliana said.
“I need you to punch it up to two when I say now,” Leo said. He kicked off hard from the floor with all four limbs, streaking upwards. He pushed off of the eerily-floating containers in order to clear the top of the chasm, and alter his trajectory away from the “falling” ghouls. Once he was above the level of the weightless cargo, and the ghouls were below it, he yelled “Now!”
The sound was horrendous. Leo knew there’d be more insurance claims than deliveries to make on the next leg of their journey, but most of the ghouls were smashed outright. Those who had been clinging to surfaces above the crushing mass of cargo were caught unprepared for the sudden return of double strength gravity, and fell heavily, breaking multiple bones.
Leo landed badly, for a cat… which meant he hurt an ankle and a wrist.
“I heard that back here,” Lilliana said. “This trip’s getting expensive, isn’t it?”
“As long as we live to pay for it, I ain’t bothered,” Leo replied, getting to his feet. The broken ghouls who were on top of the wasteland of containers were starting to stir.
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