Howl of the Wolf (Heirs to the Throne Book 1) by Diane Rapp Page B

back, we’re set on overload.”  He activated the comline.  “Computer, we have an overload caused by a faulty intensifier.  There has been no response to a manual shutdown sequence.  According to emergency guidelines, we’ll take shelter in the recovery cell.” 
    The computer said, “Rescue crew standing by, code red.”  The overhead lights changed to flashing red.
    Donovan chuckled.  “Won’t they be surprised when they find no one to rescue?”
    “Let’s hope so.  I’d rather not end up in an Institute interrogation chamber.”  A warning-siren howled and they raced to the recovery cell.  “Could the blast breach the seals?” Alex asked with an anxious expression.
    Donovan clamped down the seals on his helmet.  “These stations were built in detachable segments.  The blast should eject this entire section in one piece.  With luck we’ll join obsolete satellites floating in the outer system.”
    Alex nodded.  “If we blow in the wrong direction, we could be the next shooting star downworld and history will record my demise in properly descriptive prose.”
    “Yeah!  Inventor of Transfer dies in a blaze of glory,” Donovan quipped.  “Trenton’s the best tracker in the galaxy.  He’ll extract us from orbit and continue on course in one smooth move.  No one will realize we’re missing.”
    “You put a lot of faith in that scoundrel.”
    Donovan grinned.  “He is uncanny, can home in on prey by sheer willpower.”    
    Alex nodded.  “He might actually have that ability.”    
    “What do you mean?”
    Alex said, “It might be a beneficial side effect of multiple Transfers.  Hold on!  We’re about to blast off.” 
    Gripping their safety harnesses, the blast slammed their bodies against the hull.  The explosion screeched through steel walls, rivets popping and floor joists rippling, as the skeleton cracked like a fragile eggshell.  The section broke loose. 
    Alex closed his eyes, Donovan clenched his teeth, and Krystal floated peacefully in her cubicle.  Free-fall felt good after the concussion of the blast.  The stomach-wrenching, erratic tumble of the pie-shaped section slowed to a gentle roll. 
    Donovan started counting out loud, his voice sounding tinny over the suit microphone.  “Forty-five, forty-six…Trenton…forty-eight…you human bloodhound…fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two…get your butt in gear…fifty-four…and come fetch us!”      
    Donovan felt Alex’s mind touch Krystal.  Even through tight mental barriers, the doctor’s raw emotions of worry and fear leaked out.  Donovan felt chilled.  Would Trenton make it in time?  Would they plummet into the planet, or go spinning into deep space?
    “Three hundred seventy-five, three-seventy-six…you’re slowing down, old boy…three-seventy-eight, three-seventy-nine…in the old days…three-eighty-one…you’d have retrieved…three-eighty-three…us by now…three-eighty-five, three-eighty-six…”  
    Krystal opened her eyes.  Donovan heard Alex’s thoughts , Breathe slowly, keep calm .  Her soft blue-gray eyes blinked.  Stay calm . 
    She nodded.
    “Six hundred ninety-one…Come on, Trenton…Six-ninety-four, six-ninety-five.”  A clank echoed through the distorted framework.  “About time, you old mountain goat.”  Donovan grinned at Alex.  “Now we know how it feels to be Trenton’s critters, waiting for him to open the trap.” 
    Alex’s concerned gaze shifted to Krystal.  “How many minutes of air does she have?” 
    Donovan tapped on the oxygen tank attached to the cell and Krystal’s eyes followed the gesture.
    “Good move,” Alex said.  “She can slow her own metabolism.” 
    “She’s doing it.  Trenton hurry, it’s getting tight in here!”  Donovan pounded the hull with his fist.  Clank.  “That’s a response!”  Reaching for his knife, Donovan tapped a staccato beat against the wall, and then paused to listen. 
    “Five minutes!”  He