“Dammit,” Weston cursed under his breath as the pincers slipped free and the pod began drifting away. “Samuels, adjust your vertical vector by point-three-two. The pod’s trying to slip away.”

“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant deftly adjusted the shuttle’s course, following the escaping pod.

“Thanks. Trying again.” Weston’s face beaded with sweat as he extended the arms again and closed the pincers over the obtrusions, this time tightly. “All right, got him hooked. Time to reel him in.”

The two Can-Arms retracted, pulling the shuttle to the pod and locking them together. Once the arms were locked in place, Lieutenant Samuels fired the thrusters and started the shuttle on a return vector to the Odyssey.

“Sir, the contents of the pod read as oxygen-nitrogen—breathable but high on the carbon dioxide levels. Looks like it’s a purification system on its last legs.” The copilot shrugged. “Assuming he breathes air and my instruments aren’t all screwed up.”

“Damn. Okay, suit up, both of you. I’m going to open up the Spam can and see what we’ve won,” Weston ordered as he grabbed for his own pressure helmet.

After they had sealed their environmental suits, Weston opened the pressure hatch in the floor, accessing the portable airlock.

“Ryan, get over here and pass me the laser cutter.”

“Yes, sir.” The copilot slid from his seat and grabbed the cutter from a locker amidships.

Weston primed the cutter and focused it on the pod’s hull, slicing through the material like a knife through butter. “Hey, Ryan, I think I will send a sample of this to the research labs. The material is vaporizing rather than melting; we’re not going to have to worry about slag floating around.”

It took a few minutes before Weston completed a decent-sized circle and kicked the floating obstruction into the pod. Retrieving a lamp from Ensign Ryan, he peered into the pod to look for the survivor. Strapped into a harness along the curved side of the cylinder was the source of the life readings: a slumped form, wearing a gold coverall, limbs drifting in the null gravity of the pod, her delicate face obscured by flowing strands of shoulder-length, raven-black hair.

Weston slipped himself through the hole feet first and alit on the floor of the pod. Unstrapping the survivor took less than a minute. He passed the unfortunate woman back through the hole to Ensign Ryan. After a brief glance around, Weston followed suit, leaving the dark interior of the escape pod behind.

“Take us back to the Odyssey, Samuels. We’ll disengage the pod near the port bay and let the tug push it in.”

“Yes, sir. Strap yourselves in and make sure our passenger is comfortable. We’re going home.”

CHAPTER 5

BACK ON THE Odyssey, the shuttle was met by an E-med team in full biohazard gear who hustled the unconscious survivor from the flight deck. Stephanos met Weston as he stepped down the shuttle gangplank.