by M. D. Cooper
Geoff thought of him in there, cut off from all of his senses.
“Mal! I’m coming for you, buddy!” Geoff hollered as he flew into the bridge, slamming into the wall of the node.
He removed the access panel to the side of the door. With the power out, the door had to be opened manually. As the cover came off, Geoff reached in and removed the autowinder. It was a small device that fit over the gear controlling the door. When placed on the gear, it could be activated to wind the gear at a much higher rate than a human could—‘could be activated’ being the operative term here. Everything electronic on the ship was dead, including the autowinder.
Fortunately, the designers of the autowinder had put some thought into the process. When the autowinder was deactivated, it would lock in place, allowing it to function as a manual crank. A much, much slower manual crank. Mal and Geoff had become friends over the past few days, so he figured it worthwhile to sit there, turning the autowinder with all he had, in order to open the door enough that he could squeeze into the compartment.
“OK, Mal, I’m here. Let’s see what we have to deal with, here.”
Geoff looked at the area holding the NSAI nodes and Mal’s case. There was a wall of equipment on one side housing the NSAIs for the ship. There were amber status lights, so it seemed that the batteries for the NSAIs seemed to still be functioning. This room was heavily shielded against EMPs and had additional failsafes that would sever any hard connections to the ship upon detection of such an attack.
Both the batteries and the NSAIs would be critical to Geoff’s survival, if Mal was gone. Geoff was a damn good pilot, but he’d still need an NSAI, at the least, to fly a ship in the void.
Geoff’s expression fell to sadness as he moved to the pillar holding Mal’s core. There was no dim lighting to indicate it was running on backup power.
He began examining the protective Titanium case, looking for any signs of damage; there was none. It didn’t look like it had moved since it had been installed. Geoff did notice that one of the connections at the rear of the case was not fully inserted. He removed the connector, checked it for any debris, then reinserted it into the case.
As he did, the base began to glow with a dim light, indicating it was receiving power from the room.
“Mal, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.” Geoff slumped to the floor, beginning to shake with relief. “As far as what is going on, your guess is as good as mine. The power went out, and I couldn’t raise you, so I headed to engineering to see if I could get it back on. As soon as I got there, I realized we had been hit with an EMP, so I hauled ass up here to see if you were hurt. I just got you hooked up again. I was worried for a bit there, but I am damn glad you’re back with me.”
“It’s going to be OK, buddy. We were in a holding pattern next to that wreck, after I sent a request for the nearest S&R vessel to stand by for a possible extraction. When they reach out and we don’t respond back, they will head over and find us, or report us as a lost contact.”
Geoff stood as he began to make his way out of the room.
“I’m just going to the bridge. At least up there, I can keep an eye out for any other ships.” He stopped at the door. Mal was starting to sound more and more on edge, and he was hesitant to leave him alone.
“Reroute them for what?” Geoff was confused. Usually when Mal had an idea, he presented it in the most concise manner possible.
“I see where you are going with this. I take it up to the bridge with me, you can see for yourself what’s going on, and we figure this mess out, right?”
“Mal, I can just go grab one from engineering. Send me the specs, and I’ll go grab it.”
“Mal, there something you want to tell me?”
“Mal,” Geoff interrupted, with more concern in his voice than he realized he felt. “Tell me what’s going on. You know I got your back.”
“You’re not alone, I’ve been here the whole time.>
Geoff moved back to Mal’s case and put a hand on it. He didn’t know if Mal could feel the touch in his diminished state, but Mal sounded scared, and Geoff wanted to comfort him.
Geoff truly felt sorry for the AI. He had no idea how horrific that would be. He couldn’t imagine being stripped of all his senses and completely isolated from everything and everyone. It had only been a few minutes, but for an AI, it had to have lasted an eternity.
“I won’t leave you, Mal. We are in this together, you and I,” Geoff said confidently, for both his and the AI’s sake. “We’re going to get out of this. Tell me what I have to do to get to this cable hooked up.”
The process took maybe twenty minutes to complete. Locating the cable had been easy. The problem was that this particular cable was wrapped up in the shielding of several cables that ran near it. Each shielded section had to be spliced open and the cable teased out.
Mal sounded frustrated, and Geoff knew why. Mal was a very precise person. Although he was great at making things up on the fly, like his ad hoc thruster repair, he preferred to follow the rules and regulations to the letter. So when something was out of place, it bothered him.
“No biggie, Mal. We got it out, and the last connection is complete. Can you power it up and test it out?” Geoff floated the sensor unit at eye level in front of him. All he could see was his reflection in the clear covering.
Mal cycled through all the available sensor data coming from the cluster. It was primitive when compared to the shipboard sensor suite, but at least he had access to the environment around him. He finally felt like he was back.
“Not a problem, buddy, we are in this together.” Geoff smiled and began to wind up the cord to the sensor unit. He didn’t want it to snag on anything when he floated to the bridge.
He stopped as he thought about Mal’s words. Mal had said ‘again’, like he had been through this before. The AI never talked about his time in the military, and Geoff was hesitant to ask him about it directly, but he took a gamble that the AI had slipped up on purpose.
“What did you mean when you said you didn’t want to feel that way again?” Geoff asked calmly.
<
br /> “It’s cool, Mal, I don’t want to pry.”
“Mal, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
Mal paused for a second, and Geoff got the distinct impression of deep sadness from the AI.
Mal stopped for several seconds, and Geoff knew better than to interrupt him.
“Mal, I don’t know what to say.” Geoff knew he couldn’t really offer any words of comfort to the AI, so he figured it was best to reassure him.
“Mal, you got nothing to worry about, my friend. This is all kinds of different. For one, the both of us are here having this conversation. Secondly, there is no battle going on. Someone will come to get us.”
It had been thirty minutes since the ship had lost power, and Geoff could already feel the stagnant air warming up. The tug wasn’t large, but it had days of air in it for one person. It was heavily insulated and shielded, so they wouldn’t absorb too much heat, but it would grow warm eventually.
“Once we get you settled in, I am going to go and close some of the hatches. We need to try and retain air and keep out the heat. We should be good for a while, but then it is going to be pretty toasty in here.”
“Believe me, I plan on it!” Geoff said, drawing out the first word. “But I’m going to hold out as long as I can. The last thing I want is for the suit thermals and life support to fail too early. I’ll suffer the warmth for a bit, and then suit up when I don’t have a choice.”
“Sure thing.” Geoff lifted the sensor cluster and slowly panned around the room with it. “Everything look good to you?”
ON THE LINE
STELLAR DATE 04.06.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: ISS SO211A
REGION: Orion Guard Debris Field, New Canaan System
The bridge was as dark as when Geoff had left it. The last thing he had done there was to bring the ship to a halt—relative to the debris field—in order to get a better read on the sensor data. At the time, he’d wanted to be able to get the clearest possible picture, but he now thought that the move had saved their lives. If they’d had delta-v and been maneuvering, they would have continued along their trajectory, putting themselves in the way of a number of untold dangers.
“How are you going to access that? Everything on here is dead.”
Geoff began rummaging through the small bridge, trying to see if there was anything that could be useful.
“Maybe you can see what happened to us, too.”
Why they were floating out here was bothering Geoff. He desperately wanted to go back to engineering to see if he could fix something, but if he couldn’t take Mal with him, he wasn’t going. Geoff knew the AI shouldn’t be alone right now.
“What do you want me to do in the meantime?” Geoff rested against a bulkhead. Everything on the bridge was useless without power.
Geoff let out a laugh of genuine happiness. Mal was getting back to his old self.
“Keep that attitude up and see what happens. I’d hate to accidently trip over your power cord.”
“I stand by the validity of that search. The only other way to find out would have been to use a real cat.”
“Already on it,” Geoff replied, walking out of the bridge.
There was a survival locker not far from the bridge, located near the main airlock. Geoff opened the locker and was impressed to find that it contained a suit in his size. He’d expected to find the kind they put on ships in storage. Basically a one-size-fits-most inflatable pressure bag shaped like a person, and a very basic helmet that met the absolute bare minimum requirements.
The suits in the locker he faced were considerably different; these offered multiple levels of protection. Each was made of a lightweight but dense material to protect the wearer from micrometeorite impacts, and could probably take a round or two from a ballistic weapon. They also had several days’ worth of water and air, even boasting a waste recycling system. As he gripped the fabric, he could feel slightly stiffer sections of his suit moving around, sandwiched between the inner and outer layers.
Donning the suit, he was amazed at how light it felt. He knew the materials it was made of, and understood their durability, but he was a military man at heart. He was still a fan of multiple layers of thick armor to protect himself.
Getting himself situated, he felt the suit’s heaters activate and begin cooling his body. He had felt a bit uncomfortable earlier, but it had not been unbearably warm. He grabbed the helmet and put it on, but didn’t link the suit’s collar to the base of the helmet. Geoff breathed a sigh of relief, as the helmet registered his presence and began a boot-up sequence. He had been worried the suits would have been fried like everything else.
As the system came online, it displayed a HUD with all the suit’s functions on it. He ran a quick status check, grumbling when he had to seal his helmet for the pressure test, and was relieved when all systems showed ready. He put the suit into a low power mode, leaving only the maglocks on his feet active. This would conserve the suit’s limited batteries, which Geoff thought he may need later. The
suit was equipped with a radio, but it wasn’t powerful enough to make it through all the garbage in the debris field. If he had no other options, he could always stand on the hull and crank the radio’s power.
“I know! Cool, right?” Geoff said as he turned in front of the sensors he mounted earlier. It was nice to be able to walk around the ship again.
“I know. I remember them from my days when I was in the force. Whoever used this tug before us must have acquired these somehow and left them behind.”
“I already ran it through its boot-up sequence, and everything checked out. Lucky us, right?”
Geoff moved over to his normal seat on the bridge. He figured they weren’t going anywhere, so he may as well get comfortable. He was also thinking about the few snack bars he had stashed in the compartment next to his seat.
Geoff thought about when he opened the locker. He remembered taking the suit straight from the locker. “Nope. It was in the storage locker. I’m surprised the batteries lasted this long.”
He grabbed one of the snack bars and opened it up. Never having been a fan of the survival paste most flight crews used, he brought his own stuff whenever possible. Some pilots brought vids or books with them in case they got delayed or had time to kill, but not Geoff. He brought food, which meant he wasn’t going to starve anytime soon.