Redshirts

and fired into the center of the pulpy red haze where he knew the killer machine to be. The pulse beam glanced harmlessly off the machine’s surface. Hester yelled and pushed Dahl down the corridor, away from the machine, which was already resetting its harpoon. They turned a corner and raced away into another corridor, which led to the mess hall. They burst through the doors and closed them behind them.
    “These doors aren’t going to keep that thing out,” Hester said breathlessly.
    Dahl examined the doorway. “There’s another set of doors here,” he said. “Fire doors or an airlock door, maybe. Look for a panel.”
    “Found it,” Hester said. “Step back.” He pressed a large red button. There was a squeak and a hiss. A pair of heavy doors slowly began to shut, and then stalled, halfway closed. “Oh, come on!” Hester said.
    Through the glass on the already closed set of doors, the killer machine stepped into view.
    “I have an idea,” Dahl said.
    “Does it involve running?” Hester asked.
    “Move back from the panel,” Dahl said. Hester stepped back, frowning. Dahl raised his pulse gun and fired into the door panel at the same time the machine’s harpoon punctured the closed outer door and yanked it out of the doorway. The panel blew in a shower of sparks and the heavy fire doors moved, shutting with a vibrating clang .
    “Shooting the panel?” Hester said, incredulous. “That was your big idea?”
    “I had a hunch,” Dahl said, putting his pulse gun away.
    “That the space station was wired haphazardly?” Hester said. “That this whole place is one big fucking code violation?”
    “The killer machines kind of gave that part away,” Dahl said.
    There was a violent bang as a harpoon struck against the fire door.
    “If that door is built like the rest of this place, it won’t be long before that thing’s through it,” Hester said.
    “We’re not staying anyway,” Dahl said, and pulled out his phone for a station map. “Come on. There’s a door in the kitchen that will get us closer to the shuttle bay. If we’re lucky we won’t run into anything else before we get there.”
    *   *   *
    Two corridors before the shuttle bay, Dahl and Hester ran into what was left of Lieutenant Fischer’s party: Fischer, Duvall, Hanson and Finn.
    “Well, aren’t we the lucky bunch,” Finn said, seeing Dahl and Hester. The words were sarcastic, but Finn’s tone suggested he was close to losing it. Hanson put a hand on his shoulder.
    “Where’s Kerensky and the rest of your team?” Fischer asked Dahl.
    “We split up,” Dahl said. “Kerensky and Williams are alive as far as I know. We lost Lopez and McGregor.”
    Fischer nodded. “Payton and Webb from our team,” he said.
    “Harpoons and blades?” Dahl asked.
    “Swarming bots,” Duvall said.
    “We missed those,” Dahl said.
    Fischer shook his head. “It’s unbelievable,” he said. “I just transferred to the Intrepid . This is my first away team. And I lose two of my people.”
    “I don’t think it’s you, sir,” Dahl said.
    “That’s more than I know,” Fischer said. He motioned them forward and they made their way cautiously to the shuttle bay.
    “Anyone else here rated to fly one of these things?” Fischer asked, as they entered the bay.
    “I am,” Hester said.
    “Good,” Fischer said, and pointed to the shuttle Kerensky had piloted. “Warm her up. I’ll get started on mine. I want all of you to get into that shuttle with him.” He pointed at Hester. “If you see any of those machines coming, don’t wait, take off. I’ll have enough space for Kerensky and Williams. Got it?”
    “Yes, sir,” Hester said.
    “Get to it, then,” Fischer said, and ducked into his own shuttle.
    “Everything about this mission sucks,” Hester said in their own shuttle, as he banged through the shuttle’s pre-flight sequence. Finn, Duvall and Hanson were strapping themselves in; Dahl kept watch by the hatch, looking for Kerensky and Williams.
    “Hester, did you ever tell me that you knew how to fly a shuttle?” Dahl asked, turning to look at Hester.
    “Kind of busy now,” Hester said.
    “I didn’t know he was rated to fly a shuttle, either,” Finn said, from his seat. His anxiousness was needing a release, and talking seemed like a better idea to him than wetting himself. “And I’ve known him for more than a year.”
    “Not something you’d think you’d miss,” Dahl said.
    “We weren’t close,”