Rogue Clone

EPILOGUE

“This is a short-range transport. It isn’t made for long trips,” I told Ray as he sealed the rear of the kettle. “It’s going to take us a month just to reach the broadcast station if we reach it at all.

“Even if we get there, this will probably be a one-way trip. You don’t really think we can make it work.”

“Death in space or the rest of my life stuck here on Delphi,” Freeman said. “I’ll take my chances.” Less than one month had passed since our battle with the Grant , and he was already going stir-crazy. Dying out in space might have been easier for him.

His plan was a shade shy of suicide. He wanted to fly this navy transport out to the broadcast station. I had never seen a kettle fly for more than a day, and we would be out for a full month. If we made it to the broadcast discs, Freeman hoped to strip the sending gear out of them and adapt it for this ship.

The shuttle’s engine produced the energy for it. It generated joules and joules of energy for its shields. But this shuttle wasn’t designed for the stresses of self-broadcasting. It did not even have tint shields. Even if we made it to the discs and somehow Ray adapted the broadcast equipment to work, it could all go wrong. I had first-hand knowledge about what happens when broadcasts go wrong.

“Even if this works, we’ll be lucky to get one flight with this,” I said.

“I’m willing to risk it,” Freeman answered. So was I, if it meant I could get back in the war.