"You see?" said Chubs, turning to Lem. "Listen to him. 'We're impenetrable.' He's not even admitting it happened. He's in denial. He's not going to do anything about it. We have to go to your father, Lem. Ukko needs to hear about this personally. The Board as well. Podolski isn't going to fix it."
Lem moved to Chubs and began speaking in hushed tones, though just loud enough for Podolski to hear. "We can't go to my father," said Lem. "He has zero tolerance for mistakes like this. Especially when there's this much money and company resources invested. He'd string Podolski up. He would ruin him. Maybe even sue him. Podolski can't afford that."
"We don't have a choice," said Chubs.
"Wait," said Podolski. "I'm not the only one who wrote the security measures, you know. I helped, yeah, but there are over two hundred coders on Luna working on this stuff. I can't be the fall guy here. This wasn't my fault."
Chubs looked at him with contempt. "Yes, Podolski, we'll tell that to Ukko Jukes. We'll explain to him that the man at the controls can't be blamed. He's innocent. Did he even notice the attack take place? No, he had to wait for someone to point it out to him. Did he do anything afterward to rectify the situation? No, he twiddled his thumbs. I'm sure Mr. Ukko Jukes will be pacified by that argument and absolve you of any and all blame."
> Podolski considered this. "All right. There's no need to go to Ukko. I can fix this. Honest. Please. Give me a chance on this."
"What could you do?" asked Lem.
"Get me close to El Cavador and I'll hack them back. It would be easy. Free-miner security is a joke. I could get in and wipe their system without them even knowing I was there."
Lem visibly relaxed, smiling, and turned to Chubs. "There. Satisfied? I told you Podolski would own up. Problem solved."
"It's not that easy," said Chubs, shaking his head. "We don't know where El Cavador is. We can't track them."
Lem frowned, all hope vanishing. "Right. That is a problem, yes." He sighed. "Then there's nothing to be done."
Podolski seemed desperate. "Maybe we could ask around, hit up some of the other clans or families for information. Someone has to know where they are."
Chubs looked painfully amused. "You think free miners are going to offer up any intel to corporates? They hate us. They'd never sell out one of their own. And whom would we ask anyway? There's no one close."
Lem brightened, as if the idea had just struck him. "Weigh Station Four. El Cavador will need supplies. We'll go there and wait them out."
"They'd see the ship," said Chubs. "They wouldn't stop. It wouldn't work."
"Drop me off," said Podolski. "Let me stay there, while you go off a ways. I'll clean their system, they leave, I call you back, you pick me up."
Chubs shook his head. "Ships like theirs have incredible sky scanners. They'd see us from way out. The only way that would work is if El Cavador believed we were heading back to Luna."
Podolski paused, staring down at the holotable, his face taut with tension. Finally he looked up. "Then that's what we do. You drop me off at Weigh Station Four with some gear and money. Then you head back to Luna. I wait them out, clean their system, then buy passage back on a freighter."
Lem and Chubs looked at one another.
"You know," said Chubs, "that just might work."
CHAPTER 14
Pod
Concepcion stood at the holotable at the helm, watching one of the PKs cut through the wreckage of the Italian ship. The miners outside were sending her live video to the holospace in front of her. Everyone who worked at the helm was gathered around Concepcion, their faces taut with worry. For her part, Concepcion did her best to appear poised and in command, though inside she felt tense and helpless. Whittling down the wreckage with a laser was taking an incredible risk. If the wreckage were to shift or rotate unexpectedly while they were cutting, even only slightly, the laser might cut into the room where the survivors were waiting, breaching the airtight walls and killing everyone inside within moments.
Concepcion shuddered at the thought. It would be a cruel death, made all the more horrible because the people trapped inside now believed they were being rescued. Right as we fill their hearts with hope, we screw up and give them a death more terrible and traumatic than what they would have suffered had we never come along.
But no, the wreckage wouldn't shift, she told herself. The miners were taking every precaution. They had set up mooring cables and two long pylons that extended from El Cavador out to the wreckage, holding the wreckage in place and preventing it from drifting into the ship. It was a precarious procedure, yes, but they were doing everything they could to protect those inside.
The laser finished a cut, and the severed section of wreckage broke free and drifted away. There was an audible sigh of relief from the crew, and a few of them even applauded and embraced one another. Concepcion remained still and unresponsive. The job was nowhere close to being finished, and she had learned through sad experience never to celebrate prematurely. They were not out of danger yet. Whatever had done this to the Italians was still out there.
The laser beam stopped cutting. The miners turned on the winches and pulled on the mooring cables, rotating the wreckage into a different position in preparation for a second cut. Since the wreckage was unstable and had lifelines attached and people inside, the miners didn't rush the process. They rotated the wreckage slowly, being careful not to jerk any of the lines. It made Concepcion realize how tedious and lengthy a process this would be: cutting and rotating and cutting and rotating until they had whittled down the structure small enough to fit inside the airlock.
It relieved her to know that Victor and Segundo and Toron were out there somewhere continuing the search. The work with the laser drill hadn't put a full stop on the rescue efforts.
Of course, sending the three out in the quickship didn't exactly put her mind at ease either. Under any other circumstances she wouldn't have taken such a risk, especially with the only two mechanics in the crew. If something happened to both of them, who would keep the ship operational? Not Mono. He was too young, too inexperienced. He had barely had enough time to learn the fundamentals, if that. I should have considered that before blessing the mission, she thought. That had been careless. But what could she have done? Only Victor could fly the quickship, and Segundo wouldn't have let him go without accompanying him.
The laser started cutting again.