Homesick

The hard clunk that rocked the shuttlepod would normally have seemed only mildly jarring even if unexpected, but in the echoes of the dark metal bay and with the level of anxiety Vlad had gradually ratcheted himself up to, it rang the ship like a massive bell, vibrating every metal surface, door and cabinet, not to mention his teeth. He had been crouching below the pilot’s station halfway onto the couch, his body stretched at an awkward angle to unbolt one of the panels. His startled recoil all but sent him tumbling to the hard floor below, his wrench clattering sharply as it fell from his grasp and made its way through the maze of frames and panels. Fortunately, the gravity was gentle and he managed to right himself quickly. He stared about the room in suspicion. The sound came from outside. He identified it almost immediately, sighing with annoyance. The pod had been slapped from below by the hand of an automated crane. In the corner of his eye he could see the pilot’s station respond with a blue status window and an animated graphic depicting the metal clamps that had engaged somewhere below. A new set of landing struts had been affixed to the pod. Moments later he heard the fuel pumps engage, all pre-programmed. The chutes would be replaced next, each compartment fitted with a new modular unit that would deploy just as the previous ones had.

Vlad had seen the crane move by the door an instant before he knew what it was, and it momentarily chilled him. The cabin was brighter than the bay now and the contrast was making everything beyond the hatch seem dark and forbidding. Logically, he knew nothing could be lurking out there, but that didn’t stop his apprehension. In fact, even the presence of the aliens might be comforting, so long as he could see where they were. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to his work.

He drew another electronic wrench from his bag and fitted it to the last of the recessed bolts on the access panel under the pilot’s station. Removing the panel itself would be difficult due to the angle. It was off-balance from his position and he was forced to grab it only from one side. Also, its edges were sharp and Vlad worried about the fingers of his gloves. Finding his balance point, he swung the panel to his left, resting it on the pilot’s couch while he peered into the chassis. He first looked for more turtle-like devices, but found none. The panel was, however, well-marked with the alien language and diagrams. Feeling the need to be busy, he immediately began removing the boards that controlled access to those systems not directly involved in flying the ship. The command console went completely dark in response and the pilot’s console displayed only navigational control and fuel consumption. From his bag, he withdrew the replacement board he had designed at Sally’s command. When he slid it in place, nothing obvious happened on the consoles. It was an empty board, but it contained one hard-wired set of instructions that was the ship’s final flight plan. Embedded in the board was a copper leed affixed with both solder and glue. It was to this that Vlad connected the hard metal cylinder at the bottom of his bag. The cylinder had a bracket that fit the chassis perfectly and enabled the unit, bomb and all, to secure firmly to the bottom of the console. When he replaced the panel over it, all looked normal and safe. The bag was now filled only with boards looted from the pod. Each would have been quite expensive to purchase on Earth, perhaps worth their weight in gold, their circuitry representing the most modern technology. But Vlad tossed them out the door, letting them clatter onto the floor of the bay outside. He had no intention of collecting them later. He was done. The ship was ready.