Under A Winter Sun by Johan Dahlgren (ink ebook reader txt) 📕

“He'll get it open.”

He'd better. Or I'll be cross. “Come on, Eirik.”

A brief wait, and then the light next to the airlock turns green.

“Told you so. Come on. Let's go.”

“Thanks, B.” I clap Braden on the shoulder before I climb back down the ladder to the airlock to suit up. “We'll be right back.”

She shoots me a quick smile, but there's genuine worry in her hazel eyes. “Be safe, Mr P.”

“I'll try.”

* * *

Since we're under thrust, we stand on the closed door to the cargo bay as Jagr cycles the airlock. The door rolls open without a sound. To avoid having to take in the void unfolding before me, I bend down and check the trusty monomolecular-knife strapped to my leg. Then I stand up straight with my eyes closed. My knuckles grow white around the grip of the Paladin rifle. I hope the others don't see how hard I squeeze it. All that black nothing surrounding us would make the General lose his shit.

“Perez. We don't have all day,” Jagr calls, and I open my eyes.

I swallow hard, run, and take the leap. It's like jumping from a helicopter to a building.

I hit the Naglfar hard and scramble to find something to grab on to. The detailing of the great carvings is ridiculous. My armoured fingers close around something that looks like a human-sized skull. There's a fuckload of skulls on this thing.

I turn around and wave for the others. “Come on.” The others are tethered to a nano filament wire behind me. It would be really silly if someone floated off into space and got lost when we do epic shit like this. Next to jump is Tyrus. He lands like a tiger next to me. After him comes Jagr and Soledad. Then comes the priest.

He fumbles the jump and goes falling down the Naglfar. “Soledad, the priest's going AWOL,” I call.

Soledad loops the cable around her forearms and braces against the hull to catch the priest. He swings into the hull hard enough to bounce.

“Ouch,” is all he says. That must have hurt worse than ouch.

“Sorry,” he says, and climbs up to us.

The light on the airlock is still green, but the door remains closed. There are no external controls. Shit.

“It was a brilliant plan,” Tyrus says. “Too bad it didn't work out.”

I push the comms button on my wrist console. “Eirik. You have to open the airlock from inside.”

There's nothing but static.

I try the communicator again. “Eirik. Open the door.”

Still nothing.

We wait in silence while we cling to the hull outside the door. The ship's architect didn't imagine anyone would join them en route. If he had, there would be external controls for the airlock, and magnetic pads for our suits to attach to.

For a long time, all we hear are the mumbled prayers from Rivera.

“Perez, we …” Tyrus starts.

“Airlock opening,” Aeryn notifies me.

“Here we go.”

There's a slight tremble in the hull and the airlock slides open without a sound. The silence is eerie. I can't count the times I've been in space, but the total silence out here always gets to me. It would have been much less spooky if the opening doors had been accompanied by great rumblings and a scary soundtrack. I bet they will add sound effects when they make a vid feed about this clusterfuck adventure.

“Don't die in there, Perez.” There's concern in Aeryn's voice.

“Can't promise anything.”

“Be careful.”

“Got you.”

Tyrus points a gloved finger at me. “You got lucky, Perez.”

“The harder you try, the luckier you are.”

“Shut it, boys,” Jagr interrupts. “Let's move.”

I peer into the opening. The airlock interior is lit by a myriad blue pinprick lights, like a starlit sky. My heart makes a somersault when I take them to be centipedes, but they are only regular lights set in the walls, floor, and ceiling. I climb around the door frame and collapse into the airlock. “I'm in.”

When the others are all inside, I hail Eirik again.

“Eirik. We're in. Cycle us through.”

Static is my only reply.

“Eirik? Are you there?”

More static, then Eirik's voice. “Still … here. Cycling.”

The outer door slides shut, mercifully blotting out the cold uncaring stars, and we're locked inside. Then the inner door cycles open, and we all raise our rifles at it.

There's nothing there.

According to the suit, the ship has only a primitive atmosphere. We could never breathe without our suits.

“Where are you now, Eirik?”

“I'm at … the Core.”

“Good. Stay there. We're coming for you.”

“Hurry. Don't know … how long before … Geirmund finds out.”

“We're coming, Eirik. There's something else you should know. Finn is already on board. He's coming for you.”

There's another voice in the background, roaring expletives.

“He … found me.”

The link cuts out.

Shit. If Finn kills Eirik, we're stranded here. If Eirik kills Finn, I have no friends left in the world.

We must get to them before they kill each other.

* * *

“Are we close?” Tyrus scans the passage through the scope on his rifle.

The detector Soledad rigged gives off a faint green light when I point it toward the core. The closer we get, the brighter the glow. Simple but effective. Handy little gadget.

We stand in an empty passageway inside the airlock. The blue pinprick lights in the walls, floors and ceiling provide adequate light, but I switch on the image intensifier of my visor just in case.

“This way.” I point to an elevator door.

Tyrus presses the button to call it. To my surprise, there's a chime, and an indicator next to the door counts down. Judging by the display, we're roughly one quarter up the ship.

Jagr turns to me. “What do we do if we're spotted?”

I shrug. “We kill them.”

“Hey, that's my plan,” Tyrus says without humour.

The elevator arrives.

Tyrus and I level our rifles at the door while Jagr and Soledad take up positions flanking the door with their machetes raised. Rivera stands well to the side.

The door hisses open on an empty car and I let out my breath. The elevator is a