“I don’t know how to fucking fly this thing!”
My would-be kidnapper pressed the muzzle harder against the back of my neck. “Then I hope you’re a quick learner.”
The radio squawked again. “Shuttle 2-2-Libra-5-Neptune, this is is Harbor Tower 8. You’re out of pattern and off grid. Escorts dispatched. Copy?”
“Why can’t you fly it?!”
A hand reached around the pilot’s couch and covered my own. Their hand was cold and hard against my skin. An Exo’s hand. It gripped my fingers and forced my hand forward and onto the control console.
Some worlds are Exo friendly, or so I’ve heard, but this wasn’t one of them. Even the most basic tech like unlocking a door or flipping on a light required a biosensitive interface that wouldn’t work for an Exo. This included shuttle controls.
“If you shoot me we’re both dead anyway.”
“Then what’ve you got to lose? Answer the tower.”
Again, the prodding of a Hellgate-303 gauss gun on my cervical spine.
The shuttle was gliding but losing altitude and the nose tipped ever more forward. The 360 view from the wallscreens in the pilot’s blister gave me vertigo. I held on tight and pressed the comms switch.
“Negative, Tower, no escorts. Minor technical malfunction, we’ll take it to the surface for repairs—”
Bright light and pain exploded from my right temple down to my bottom molars and my head rocked sideways. For a moment I actually saw stars. The Exo punched me with its damn gun.
“Not the surface, meat mind! Get me to orbit!”
“2-2-Libra, say again. What’s the nature of your malfunction?”
“Goddamn, I think you ruptured my ear drum.”
“I’ll even it up on the other side if you need me to. Orbit. Now!”
I flipped the comms back on.
“Never mind, Tower, we’re actually heading up to orbit.”
“2-2-Libra, what’s your compliance ID?”
“Enough!” The Exo swung around the pilot’s couch with unnatural grace and sat on my lap. For as thin as its frame was I felt like I was beneath a steamroller. It grabbed both of my hands in its own, pulled them onto the controls, and the shuttle responded to its commands through me, deftly changing direction and accelerating hard.
“You’re gonna pull my arms out of their sockets!”
“No I’m not, I’d lose the biosensitivity if I did that. Shut up and let me pilot.”
I couldn’t turn my head, pinned as I was, but through the wallscreens I had a good view behind us.
“But…” I gasped, my lungs flattened against the Exo’s back and unable to inflate. “But…”
“I said shut up!”
“But…the escorts are coming.”
The first warning shot passed within meters. I suspected there wouldn’t be a second.
Notes: I used an image as a writing prompt for this piece. You may be able to find the image on the artist’s ArtStation page. Image by Jan Rozanski, used with permission.
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