The Xenocide Mission by Ben Jeapes Page A

arm was stretched out into space and another XC dangled at the end, holding on with both lower hands. The air leaving the lifeboat was down to a light breeze, but Joel could still see that if the on-board XC let go, both would probably be pushed out into space by the remaining pressure.
    How had they got there? Joel could picture the scenario. Say both were close to the hull when the drive field came on. The gravitational eddies would have caused chaos in the bay, but right close to the hull it would have been an area of almost calm. Maybe the gravitational forces had plucked at them, but not much, and the smaller one had been able to get a grip on the lifeboat itself.
    All sorts of options ran through Joel’s mind. Shut the outer hatch; that would deal with the second XC. Shut both hatches, repressurize the airlock and blow it again; that would deal with the first. But the markings on the suit of the dangling XC looked familiar, and the XCs had been trying to set them free, so he slowly walked forward, took hold of the inboard XC’s arm and helped haul the pair of them into the cabin. Then he shut both hatches and set the cabin to repressurize.
    The first thing he saw as he turned round was Boon Round about to attack. He recognized the flexing of the hind limbs, the poise to pounce, and he quickly positioned himself between the Rustie and the XCs.
    ‘No,’ he said. And there he stood for another minute, angling himself between Boon Round and the XCs every time the Rustie tried to get past him, until the display inside his helmet told him that the cabin was up to pressure again. He reached up and touched his helmet release.
    ‘They’re XCs!’ Boon Round shouted.
    ‘I know.’ Joel half turned so that he could look at Boon Round and the XCs at the same time. They were looking at him and at each other and he suspected they were communicating furiously, but as XCs didn’t talk through moving mouths it looked as if they were just standing there.
    ‘They killed our siblings! Human and First Breed!’
    ‘They were going to let us go, before you went mad,’ Joel said. He put his helmet on a seat.
    ‘I saw the bodies of my slain pridemates! What was I to do?’
    Joel bit his lip and didn’t answer, because there was no answer. If he was ever in the position of watching his entire family massacred then he might be in a position to judge Boon Round’s actions.
    He also had to admit he didn’t actually
know
what the XCs’ intentions had been; and even if they had been friendly, he doubted the mood would have lasted following Boon Round’s outburst and the lifeboat’s abrupt departure with two accidental passengers. Going back to drop them off wasn’t an option.
    But if he was to keep them, where to put them? The lifeboat’s main cabin was just like the cabin of a normal passenger shuttle – rows of seats facing forwards, with an aisle in between and the flight deck at the end. Aft was the power compartment, the galley, the washroom . . . nowhere really secure to put the XCs. Even if they could be locked up somewhere, he didn’t want them out of his sight.
    So he crossed quickly to a wall locker, took an object from it and aimed it at the aliens.
    ‘We’ll be at the step-through generator in ten minutes,’ he said. ‘When we get there, we’ll chuck ’em into space and let their people pick them up. Meanwhile we keep them covered with this at all times.’
    ‘That is an optical fibre calibrator,’ Boon Round objected.
    ‘I know. They don’t,’ Joel said. He hefted the long, thin and suitably gun-like tool with what he hoped was armed confidence. Maybe the XCs were taken in, maybe not, but either way they didn’t move. ‘Boon Round, make yourself useful. Get up to the flight deck, confirm we’re broadcasting the right signal to let the generator know we’re friendly. And set the lifeboat to come to dead stop half a mile off.’
    He was slightly surprised when Boon Round meekly obeyed.
Joel, you’re