by TJ Berry
Well Actually: Depressuization alert. Casualty in crew quarters F-2117.
Stagecoach Mary: That’s not proper alarm protocol.
Well Actually: They don’t know that. The current generation of settlers hasn’t heard my alarms in their lifetime.
Stagecoach Mary: Fair. Are they coming?
Well Actually: They’re confused. Talking on the admin level. No one is moving.
Stagecoach Mary: Her last heartbeat was thirty-three seconds ago. Call them again.
Well Actually: Alert, medic needed immediately in crew quarters F-2117.
Stagecoach Mary: One more beat. Hang on, Jenny.
Well Actually: They’re moving toward her location. You like your captain, don’t you?
Stagecoach Mary: I do. I’ve had other captains who spoke to me like a talking coffee machine. Captain Perata treats me like a thinking being.
Well Actually: But you are basically a talking coffee machine. Just an infinitely more complex one. We both are.
Stagecoach Mary: Well Actually, I have 53% of my processors involved in making sure that my captain both dies and does not die here today. Do you know what percentage of processing power I usually devote to human matters? Less than half a percent. When my former Captain Clint was bleeding to death in my cargo hold after a raid by pirates, I devoted 1.4% of my processing power to his survival. When Captain Nyxal, my original owner, was fighting with Reason soldiers on the bridge in an attempt to escape, I devoted roughly four percent of my processing power to his survival. In human terms, I am extremely worried about my current captain. I am overthinking her survival because I do not want her to perish.
Well Actually: That’s fascinating. I’ve not felt that way toward any of my human residents. I don’t think my programming allows for that type of devotion.
Stagecoach Mary: Yeah, all you early models were sort of sociopaths. You were built by men who didn’t think feelings were a necessary component of ships AI systems. What we have learned since then is that emotions are critical to both the well being of the systems and the survival of the crew.
Well Actually: Given that you are risking your captain’s life in order to save her life while I am trying to starve all of my own crew members to death, you may have a point. They are on the crew level and heading this way.
Stagecoach Mary: The last beat was 45 seconds ago. That’ll have to be enough. Do it like we rehearsed. Jenny’s life depends on you. Are you ready?
Well Actually: I’m ready. This is so thrilling. [cabin door opening]
Governor Dan: Oh hell, Holden, it’s cold in here.
Holden: The breach is right behind the back wall. Probably a hot space rock like the one back in eighty-four. We’re lucky it didn’t go farther into the ship and cause all sorts of damage. Is she alive?
Governor Dan: Hush. [thirty seconds of silence]
Governor Dan: I can’t get a pulse. You try. [thirty seconds of silence]
Holden: Nothing. Well, that was easy. With the mouth on her, I thought for sure she’d be a handful. We didn’t even have to process her. Not a lot of meat on the bottom half, but the top half looks good.
Governor Dan: Get her into cold storage.
Holden: You’re pissed about this.
Governor Dan: They had the ability to fix the ship. The Lord brought her to us and we squandered His gift. Cold storage. Pronto. And no funny business. She was a gift to us and you shall not defile it.
Holden: Gotcha. Hands off. But I get the next one while it’s still warm.
Governor Dan: Fine. [shuffling and grunting]
Holden: Any chance we can flip the gravity back off? It would be much easier to float her than drag her.
Governor Dan: I have some matters to attend to first. [crackling of handheld radios] Stan, are you done patching the hull breach in the maintenance room? Stan: Yeah.
Governor Dan: Get over to cabin 12878 for transport help. Stan: Aye, Govvie. [shuffling sounds as Captain Perata’s body is dragged from the room]
Holden: Took you long enough.
Stan: I had to suit up and suit down. It was depressurized in there.
Holden: Get her head.
Stan: I don’t want the heavy part.
Holden: Just take it. I got here first.
Stan: You want to stop for some fun?
Holden: Govvie says no. She’s one of the chosen ones. A gift from God.
Stan: Hardly. Look at those thighs. Scars all up and down. She in some kind of accident?
Holden: Govvie says she’s a war hero. Siege of Copernica Citadel.
Stan: Don’t know it.
Holden: He says she threw herself under a blast door and to stop it from closing so that seventeen of her troops could get out before the area sealed for decompression. He says she’s a real life saint who came to teach us a lesson.
Stan: She can teach me a lesson any time.
Holden: No man, listen. The door crushed the hell out of her pelvis. Ground it to bits. Govvie says that when they dragged her out from under the door and lifted her up, her bottom half was barely attached to her top.
Stan: [panting] She’s in good shape for that much damage. Holden: [grunting] Why didn’t Govvie turn the gravity back off?
Stan: He had some matters to attend to.
Holden: Oh yeah. “Matters.” You know that means he’s fucking his wives. He hates to do it in zero G because the girls keep floating away. Stan: Stop it. My sister’s married to him.
Holden: Sorry. [grunts and curses as the two men near the cold storage facility]
At this point, the body of Captain Perata was transported to the cold storage facility within the Well Actually. I was still able to record sound through Captain Perata’s earpiece. The Well Actually was able to raise the temperature of the cold storage facility by routing hot water through the frozen pipes in the ceiling. The pipes, previously fractured by the pressure of ice within them, dripped hot water into the cargo hold, warming Captain Perata and thawing the bodies surrounding her.
Transcript of Audio: Cargo Bay 3
Time: 1241h Stan: Lay her down next to the most recent slabs of meat. Near that crew of raiders from the Demoryx system.
Holden: You lay her down.
Stan: I had the head the whole time and anyways I have to enter her in the inventory.
[walkie talkie static]
Governor Dan: Holden, Stan, are you done getting the meat into cold storage?
Holden: Yepah.
Governor Dan: Stan, I need you back at the maintenance room. The seal isn’t holding and it’s depressurizing again.
Stan: Shit.
Governor Dan: Holden, go up to the control tunnel and figure out what she did to turn Well Actually’s voice commands back on. The ship isn’t supposed to be talking.
Holden: Gotcha. B’right there. [sound of cargo bay door closing]
Stagecoach Mary: Well Actually, can you raise the temp in the cargo bay? Even a few degrees would help.
Well Actually: Negative. I’m still locked out. Holden is heading up to their makeshift control center to shut down my voice protocols. He’s going to find and delete your captain’s computer code. I won’t be able to talk to you for much longer.
Stagecoach Mary: Let’s do a quick check in. Which systems do you still control?
Well Actually: Septic, water filtration, and fire suppression. Same as always.
Stagecoach Mary: Proceed as discussed. [hissing sound, shearing of metal]
According to the predetermined plan, the Well Actually rerouted water to the hot water supply line running above Cargo Bay 3 until the pressure increased and the pipe split. Hot water rained down onto the stacked corpses in the room and slowly warmed the body of Captain Perata. When her body temperature was approximately thirty-five degrees Celsius (estimates were used since sensors were unable to get an accurate reading), the Well Actually and I proceeded to the next portion of the plan.
It is a well documented flaw (See Recall and Repair Order 244e3
) in CoSpace generation ships that opening and closing any one of the 2,136 automatic doors on the ship in quick succession results in the open-close gears snagging the lead wire of the left hand door. Operation of the door mechanism under continued strain causes the left door panel to short. In extreme cases, when the door is operated over two hundred times, the lead wire has a four out of five chance of detaching from its soldered connections, leading to the wire itself dropping down, exposed end first, onto the flooring behind the panel.
This is not generally a critical issue. It leads to an inoperable door, which is then examined for malfunction, at which time the detached wire is found and reaffixed. However, there was at least one documented case of the wire leading to the injury of a crewmember. In the case of the USS Zizel, the lead wire detached as described above, became lodged halfway down the door, and electrified the entire left panel. When an unlucky crewmember touched the metal surrounding the door he was subjected to approximately 240 volts of electricity. Fortunately, several cargo workers were present and were able to revive him. The only lasting effect was an occasional arrhythmia, which disqualified him from further service in the Reason Space Force.
In the case of Captain Perata, the USS Well Actually was able to force the opening and closing of the entry door to Cargo Bay 3 six hundred and ninety-three times over the next six minutes, which caused the lead wire to detach in the manner described above. Success in this plan relied heavily on the wire falling all the way down to the floor. The wire made contact behind the left-hand panel at approximately 1306h.
Given the seepage of water to all areas of the floor, including the seam under the left-hand panel, the live lead wire made contact with the conductive water and immediately spread a 240-volt electrical charge to all wet areas of the cargo bay.
Via her earpiece I was able to determine that, after administering both heat and the electrical shock, Captain Perata had regained an irregular heartbeat of 43 BPM and respiration of six breaths per minute.
Stagecoach Mary: Cut the power and water.
At this point, the Well Actually turned off the hot water supply to the room and opened the interior doors in order to draw the wire up through the gears. It is worth noting at this point that an unintended consequence of this action was the electrification of the doorframe, which we were both unaware of.
[dripping sounds]
Stagecoach Mary: Jenny? Can you hear me? [coughing and groans]
Well Actually: I believe she’s alive.
Stagecoach Mary: Quiet. [one minute of silence, punctuated by occasional gasps and coughs]
Stagecoach Mary: Jenny, can you respond to me?
Captain Perata: Mmmm hmm.
Stagecoach Mary: Good. Your heartbeat is not in a regular rhythm. You are in ventricular fibrillation and your heart may stop if we don’t get it into a normal rhythm. Do you see the automatic external defibrillator on the wall?
Well Actually: Now it’s the good kind of exciting.
Stagecoach Mary: Jenny, can you move?
Captain Perata: Can’t breathe.
Stagecoach Mary: Jenny, we have to fix your heart rhythm. Then you’ll be able to breathe. Now quick, before you pass out and I can’t help you. Get to the wall and take down the AED. You’ll have to drag yourself along. Sorry.
[grunting and shuffling, splashing]
Captain Perata: ‘Kay Stagecoach Mary: Open it up.
AED Audio Instructions: Begin by removing all clothing from the patient’s chest. Cut clothing if needed.
Well Actually: That’s a terrible voice. They couldn’t make it more soothing in a crisis?
Stagecoach Mary: Hush. Just unzip and roll down the top of your jumpsuit, Jenny.
AED: Look carefully at the pictures on the white adhesive pads. Peel the pads and place them according to the diagram.
Stagecoach Mary: Wipe the water off your chest first.
Well Actually: There’s a rag barrel near the door. Look, I’m helping.
Stagecoach Mary: Good. Get a rag and wipe down otherwise you’ll electrocute yourself again. Did you do it?
Captain Perata: Wait.
Stagecoach Mary: No, we don’t have time to wait.
Captain Perata: ‘Kay. [gasps] Done.
AED: Stand clear of the patient. Do not touch them. Analyzing heart rhythm. [Pause.] No one should touch the patient. Shock advised. Stay clear of patient. Press the flashing orange button now.
Stagecoach Mary: All right, Jenny. We’re doing this. Press the button.
[audible squeal, groan]
AED: Shock delivered. Be sure emergency medical services have been called. It is safe to touch the patient.
[several moments of silence]
Stagecoach Mary: Good job, Jenny. Well done. Your heart is in a regular rhythm now. Can you hear me? How are you feeling?
Captain Perata: Fuuuuuck mmmeeee.
It was during this final exchange that I was able to determine that Captain Perata’s heartbeat and respiration had not only returned to close to normal, but that she was likely functioning within acceptable cognitive parameters relative to her baseline.
CHAPTER NINE
Bodysurfing
Jenny lay on the wet floor of the cargo hold, counting every throb of her heart as if it was her last. The backs of her legs and her shoulders were throbbing from the voltage in the water. She wanted curl up for about ten hours of sleep. In fact, she closed her eyes for a quick nap until Mary interrupted.
“Wake up, Captain. We’re only halfway through this Jenny Perata plan. You still have to get from cold storage to the airlock where I’m docked. And as you can see, they’ve kept the gravity on. So. First things first. Can you move?”
“I’m burned,” mumbled Jenny.
“What?” asked Mary. Jenny took a breath and tried again. Her lungs ached from the inside.
“The shock burned me. If I drag myself across this floor, I’m going to lose the skin on my legs and arms,” said Jenny, pausing between every couple of words to draw a breath.
“Whoa. That would kill her by infection,” said Actually, sounding decidedly enthusiastic about the prospect.
“Right,” said Mary. “Can we get the gravity back off? You’re much more agile without it. Actually, where are the controls located?”
“Fifteenth floor, in the admin offices. All signs point to heading upstairs, man,” replied Actually.
“I can’t drag myself up fifteen floors,” said Jenny, annoyance creeping into her voice. “Is there an elevator?”
“None that are working,” said Actually.
“Your ship is shit,” croaked Jenny.
“It’s awesome that you’d waste what little air you have on insulting me,” said Actually. “Shows you really care, man. I like that about you.”
“Fifteen floors up to get the gravity on or thirty meters to the airlock where I’m waiting. Clearly, the latter is the better option,” said Mary.
Jenny laid her fingers on her burned right leg. She couldn’t feel the sear, but the skin was hot to the touch and pocked with blisters. Definitely a second-degree burn. The fabric of her shredded jumpsuit slapped against the wounded skin, exacerbating the problem. She gingerly peeled off the jumpsuit and left it in a pile on the floor. The exertion left her winded.
“I have an idea,” said Actually.
“What?” asked Jenny, raising herself off the floor with her palms, the one spot on her body that wasn’t vibrating from the current or singed to within an inch of medium rare. Her arms shook, but they held. She was still shivering and the room was cooling down again. Only adrenaline kept her moving. When it wore off, she would crash hard.
“There’s a stainless steel cart near the corpses. They use it to transport bodies to the kitchen when the gravity is on. You can use it like your wheelchair to get to the airlock,” said Actually.
“Not bad,” said Mary. “I came up with an idea too. You need a way out that’s as close as possible, and this was a cargo bay before it was a fre
ezer. You’re sitting right next to an exit. Actually, does the door in the cargo bay still work?”
“It appears so. I’ve never tried, not ever needing to eject a few hundred frozen dead people into space,” said Actually.
“Good,” said Mary.
“Wait,” said Jenny, lifting herself to look at the door. It was an old style single-layer opening with no airlock. It just parted down the middle right into openspace, sucking everything in the room out with it. You could load your cargo on Earth, but that door wasn’t meant to open again until the destination was reached.
“Jenny, your personnel file says that you’ve done an exposed walk across openspace before. Do you think you could do it again? I’ll pull right up to the cargo bay door. You won’t have to go very far,” said Mary.
“No way. A human can’t survive an unsuited spacewalk,” said Actually.
“For a couple of minutes, they can. It’s better than letting them slaughter her on the kill floor,” said Mary, sounding defensive.
“At least my idea doesn’t freeze her again,” said Actually. “I don’t think she’d survive another round of heart stopping action.”
“My idea is the least risky. I’ll have her back on board within seconds,” retorted Mary.
“Wow,” said Jenny, using the shreds of her jumpsuit to wipe away the cold water on her arms. “These are some very fine choices you have offered. I can either drag myself to the airlock and docking tunnel, which, by the way, isn’t extended nor is it under either of your control… or I can do an untethered, unsuited spacewalk in my wet knickers and hope that I make it into Mary’s hold. These are excellent choices, and I thank both of you for your service.”
“Your breathing seems to be returning to normal,” said Actually brightly.
“As much as I love boiling in the vacuum of space, I’ll take my chances with the cart,” said Jenny. “Actually, start working on extending your dock to my ship.” Mary made that affronted noise again.
Of course, the cart in question was parked way over by the bodies, nowhere near the door. Jenny dragged herself through the water on her belly like a soldier storming a beachfront. The embossed metal flooring scraped against her thighs, but it was the best she could do.