Battleship Raider, Paul Tomlinson [inspirational books for women .TXT] 📗

it out with a working one. Seeing the deep pit sparked an idea that made me want to know how to drop the floor in the empty bay closest to the doors that opened onto the launch deck.

The hangar was a cross between an auto repair shop and a mini spaceport. You could imagine how busy this place must have been when the battleship was engaged in a clash with the Gators. Now it was deserted and silent. Eerie. There was a handful of small trailers scattered about with crates fastened to them. They must have been used to ferry spare parts and other supplies up here from the warehouse level. They sat there making it look like the maintenance crew would reappear at any moment.

I looked up at the ceiling high above. Huge banks of lights hung from the criss-crossed beams. I figured you could probably fly a Warbird in through the big doors and set it down in here – though you’d probably only do that if you wanted to swazz off your superior officer.

There was a walkway a couple of storeys up, running all the way around the walls on three sides. It and the half-dozen sets of stairs leading up to it were all painted yellow. Grey and yellow – the military decorator’s favourite colour palate. It made your eyes long for a hint of turquoise or fuchsia.

I drove across the hangar, avoiding the larger pieces of crab-bot debris. When I got to the outermost bay, I dismounted and pulled off the helmet. I spread the metal cargo net flat over the floor of the pit and crawled around it threading a metal cable around the edges of the net. When this cable was pulled tight, the net would close up like a sack. The free end of the cable trailed from the pit and across the deck and it had a loop woven into the end of it.

The control mechanism for opening up the service bay was simple – hold down two buttons built into the deck to lower the floor. I suppose that was to prevent you from lowering it if you hit one button by accident. I dropped the floor of the pit down as far as it would go.

I tried slapping my ID tag against the sensor to get the massive hangar doors to open, but apparently you needed more than level three technician privileges. This made sense since under normal circumstances these opened to reveal the vacuum of space. I popped open the access panel and got to work on the lock mechanism. If I got this wrong, I’d trigger a lockdown that would prevent the doors being opened at all, requiring a reset from a senior officer. I could probably overcome this, but it was better not to trigger it in the first place. As I worked on the lock, I listened carefully for any sound that might indicate the red robot’s approach.

There was a bassy thunk! that I could feel through my feet and in my chest. Gigantic bolts disengaging. Yellow warning lights began to flash.

“Warning! Outer doors opening. Decompression imminent.” The recorded voice wasn’t aware that there was a breathable atmosphere on the other side of the doors. How could it be? Battleships never entered a planet’s atmosphere.

The doors rumbled open and daylight filtered in through the crack. I could hear the sounds of the jungle outside – birds and the monkey-like creatures disturbed by the noise from the wreck.

I let the doors open until the gap between them was about twenty feet wide, then I stopped them. I jammed the mechanism so they couldn’t be opened or closed. This wasn’t for my escape – it was part of the trap I was laying for the big red robot.

I drove the ATV and trailer through the gap and out onto the launch deck. I towed the trailer across the deck, turned the ATV and then reversed the trailer until it sat right on the edge. I unhitched it, setting the manual brake to stop it rolling. I had created a crude sort of a trap, but I thought it could work if it was sprung quickly and with the element of surprise. Now all I had to do was lure my prey into it.

I had half expected the robot to appear before my preparations were complete. But now I was left waiting for it to turn up. It had to know where I was – I’d blown up crab-bots and opened the biggest external door on the ship, so I wasn’t exactly hiding. Could it still be trying to batter its way through the blast door? Or was it taking a long detour through other more accessible parts of the ship to get to the hangar and deal with me?

I hate waiting. In situations like this, it frays the nerves and leaves you imagining all sorts of ways that the plan can go wrong.

After twenty minutes I gave up and went in search of the robot.

Chapter Twenty-One

The corridors were empty and spookily quiet. I stopped the ATV and strained my ears to try and catch some sound that would indicate where the robot was. I heard nothing. I turned and looked down at my shoulder, catching a whiff of burned leather as I did and wishing Trixie was there to tell me where the big red robot was lurking.

The ATV moved forward slowly, the tyres squeaking on the corridor floor. I had to find the robot’s hiding place. Coming ready or not. At every corner I slowed, afraid the metal hulk would be waiting silently, ready to ambush me. In some places, I stopped the ATV and sneaked forward on foot to peer around the corner. At other times I raced around the corner, almost on two wheels, relying on the element of surprise. And every time I saw nothing but more empty corridor.

By a roundabout route, I came to the blast door that I had shut