Free Children of a Dead Earth Book One by Patrick S Tomlinson Page B

knocked loose.”
    â€œThen why is this only turning up now?”
    â€œWe only spotted it now. There isn’t usually any reason to look anywhere but straight ahead. We don’t know how long it’s been there.”
    â€œCan you resolve the image?”
    â€œNo. There’s very little ambient light to begin with, and our ten-meter optical telescope in the bow can’t get an angle. This isn’t even a real image. It’s a render based off an old collision avoidance radar leftover from construction that just happened to be pointed in the right direction.”
    Benson frowned. “OK, how far out is it?”
    â€œTwenty-seven hundred meters and increasing by a few meters per minute.”
    â€œGrowing?” Benson said. “Shouldn’t the ship’s gravity be pulling it back in?”
    Feng shrugged. “It may have been, but we made a small course correction to avoid a comet fragment a couple hours ago. That probably broke it free of our gravity well.”
    â€œHow long before our recovery window closes?”
    â€œNinety minutes.”
    â€œThen we need to go now.”
    Feng nodded agreement. “We’re prepping an EVA pod now. I’ll link us into the live feed.”
    â€œNo, I’m going out,” Benson said firmly, surprising even himself.
    â€œOut there?” Feng said carefully. “You’ll be outside of the Ark’s meteor shield. We could probably spare a couple of nav lasers to clear anything bigger than a millimeter or so from your path, but smaller than that is below our radar’s detection threshold. The shield soaks up everything too small to spot, but an EVA pod doesn’t have the armor for it. A grain of sand or speck of dust would go straight through it. And you.”
    Benson already knew all of that, although maybe not in such stark terms, but held his ground regardless. “I know you’re holding out hope that this thing isn’t a body, but I have to proceed assuming it is. As of right now, I’m declaring that object to be part of a crime scene and potential evidence in an ongoing investigation. Which means I have to go investigate it.”
    Feng eyed him apprehensively. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
    â€œNope,” Benson shook his head. “Not at all.”
    â€œGood, that means you’re not suicidal at least.” Feng’s eyes went gently out of focus, a telltale sign he’d started a plant call. Benson waited patiently for the conversation to run its course.
    â€œI’ve just spoken with Engineering Director Hekekia. He’s about as thrilled with the idea as I am, but he’s prepping an EVA pod. He’ll be waiting for you in the portside hanger.”
    â€œIt’ll take me a half hour to get all the way back to the engineering module.”
    â€œPreflight checks will take about that long. Be quick, detective. And don’t take any unnecessary risks. If that’s our missing man, then we’ve already lost enough.”
    Benson nodded, then pushed back towards the exit.
    In fact, it was almost forty-five minutes by the time Benson finally entered the port maintenance bay. This did not impress the dark, thick Samoan waiting for him near the door. Hekekia was, by any measure, the sturdiest crewmember on the ship. A man who spent so much time in micro had no business looking like a keg with arms.
    â€œYou’re late,” Director Hekekia reprimanded.
    â€œNot my fault,” Benson said. “One of the locks between Shangri-La and Avalon was closed for maintenance.”
    â€œIs that a joke?”
    Benson shook his head innocently. “Only on a cosmic level.”
    Hekekia squinted at him, but let it lie. “The pod is ready for you. Follow me and we’ll get you in a suit.”
    â€œI thought the EVA pods were shirt-sleeve environments.”
    â€œThey are. But my people don’t insist on taking them past the shield