by S. H. Jucha
For days, Sharon adopted the role of caregiver for the captains.
It was two more days before Jess surfaced from his coma. Thereafter, Tacnock and Sharon rotated sleeping cycles to catch Jess when he briefly surfaced to give him water, broth, and easily digestible food. Sharon cleaned Jess’s suit when he was asleep.
One day, Sharon heard a low-power warning beep coming from the meal and water dispenser. She filled cups with water and broth until the light on the dispenser went out, and the ship’s interior went dark. The power crystals had been drained. She held on to the dispenser’s shelf and sobbed.
Tacnock let Sharon empty her pain and frustration. Then he said softly, “Lieutenant, I could use a drink of water.”
Sharon wiped the tears from her face. In the inky darkness, she had to feel for the holding tray cups. It was the third try of sniffing to ensure she had water and not broth. “Coming,” she said to Tacnock.
* * * * *
Orbit had calculated the trajectory angle and the distance range that had defined his search cone. For a SADE, that was the easy part. Now, there came the difficult choices.
A massive fleet to cover the vast distance of space that Orbit’s calculations described wasn’t at his disposal. He had four ships. To further complicate his decisions, only one ship, the Rêveur, had the extensive medical suite that the biological passengers of traveler four might need. The liner had to be positioned where Orbit could get it quickest to the traveler, when it was located.
Orbit knew that if he made poor choices, they’d miss the traveler and it would ply the deep dark forever.
The SADE sublimated much of his emotional programming. There were too many pressures that were causing those algorithms to interfere with his reasoning. He required cold, impersonal logic to save the five individuals aboard traveler four.
With Orbit’s kernel cleared, he reached the final conclusions in several ticks of time. Immediately, he directed the fleet’s ships, which were sailing under maximum acceleration, to their tasks. The liner had fallen behind the faster warships, but Orbit found that acceptable.
When the Tridents cleared the system’s pull, Orbit transited them. Two exited their transit at the closer end of the search cone. Their engines continued to push the ships outward. Controllers swept the space in front of the Tridents, as the warships chased their quarry.
Aboard the Judgment, Orbit transited the Trident to the far end of the cone, halted the ship, and reversed its orientation.
When the Rêveur cleared the Norsitchian system, the ship’s controller followed Orbit’s programming, and it transited the liner to a point near the Judgment. The two ships split the cone’s diameter into thirds. The controllers swept down the cone’s throat. Like the other ships, they were programmed to detect the speeding object, and Orbit occupied his time reviewing the two ships’ telemetry recordings.
Observing Omnian time, days passed. The trailing Tridents sailed up the cone toward the blocking ships. It had been eleven days since the detonation at the moon.
Captain Oleg Tenard’s Trident was the first to detect an object with the suspected velocity. It was at the extreme range of resolution, and the captain chose not to report the contact. A half day later, Oleg’s telemetry officer assured him it was the traveler. A cheer went up aboard the bridge, and the data was communicated to Orbit.
“Commodore, the traveler has been located,” Orbit reported. “It’s within the cone and headed our way.”
The fact that the traveler was where Orbit had calculated it would be found wasn’t a cause for celebration by the SADE. It merely confirmed that his mathematical modeling had been accurate.
“How far away?” Lucia asked. The question came out harsher than she meant, but she hadn’t been sleeping much lately.
“At the traveler’s present velocity, it won’t arrive for three point two five days. I’m preparing our ships for transit,” Orbit replied.
Orbit sent the chasing Tridents to appear behind the traveler and match its velocity.
The waiting ships, the Judgment and the Rêveur, transited in front of the traveler, reversed course, and accelerated.
Orbit considered the Judgment’s race ahead of the traveler to be completely ancillary to the recovery action. It was the Rêveur that would tether the traveler.
However, having returned his emotional programs to their previous positions in hierarchy, it occurred to Orbit that it would be the height of foolishness to inform the commodore that she wouldn’t be present when the traveler was recovered.
Pilots launched travelers from the Rêveur’s bay to empty it. They let the travelers coast at their exit velocity, preserving power cells, and they activated their emergency beacons.
Captain Tenard’s Trident tracked the beacons. His ship would decelerate to pick up one traveler, completing his ship’s complement of shuttles, and it would keep the other company until it could regain a berth on the liner. The second SE Trident sailed on, keeping pace with the damaged traveler.
After the Rêveur’s bay had been cleared, a chief and his crew stood by in their environment suits. The bay’s doors were open to the deep dark, which was always an awe-inspiring view to the fleet’s crews.
Orbit navigated the liner within twenty kilometers of traveler four. After that distance was obtained, he relinquished operational control to Captain Lumley.
Francis maintained a link with Orbit and the chief. He signaled minute course changes to the ship’s controller. Slowly, ever so slowly, the Rêveur edged closer to the hurtling traveler. At first, the captain was guided by the liner’s telemetry. Then, when the chief spotted a faint glimmer from the traveler’s shell, Francis took his cues from the chief.
Checking with the crew, the chief was informed the traveler was beyond the range of the primary tethering beam, the one that would latch on to the ship.
Francis requested the distance change from the liner’s controller, and the ship shifted nearer the traveler.
There was a hushed silence on the Rêveur’s bridge. The liner’s entire crew and much of the fleet were linked to the Rêveur’s controller and awaiting the chief’s next words.
Around the fleet, captains and crews erupted in raucous cheers.
Lucia stood woodenly, listening to the noise of her bridge crew. She felt drained, but relief evaded her. There existed the final worry. Were the passengers okay?
Orbit reformed the fleet. The liner collected the outboard traveler, and then Orbit headed the ships toward the Norsitchian system.
-32-
Recovery
As soon as the chief declared the traveler secure and the bay pressurized, Edmas, Jodlyne, and an engineering team descended on traveler four.
Jodlyne noted the fine hairline cracks in the shell. They were more pronounced in the aft end and faded toward the bow.
Edmas directed the team to implement laser measuring and marking devices alongside the port side of the craft. When the devices energized, engineering specs were transferred into the equipment. Beams scanned the craft, matched its outline to the internal designs, and lasers marked the hatch’s location.
Jodlyne worked with a tech to spread a unique variety of nanites paste under the laser beams. The paste seeped into the seal between the hatch and the shell. It combined with the layer of nanites there, and the seal was released.
A tech attached two suction cones to the hatch, and a hydraulic unit eased the hatch away from the shell. Then the bay crew bodily levered the hatch to the deck.
The bay and engineering crews stood
back, as med teams raced aboard the craft. They examined the three they found laid out on the med seats. They pronounced them alive, transferred them to grav stretchers, and rushed them to the medical suite.
The relief that Lucia yearned for came when she received the medical officer’s message. She dropped heavily into her command chair. She hardly noticed the bridge crew’s celebration.
Edmas and Jodlyne examined the SADEs. Edmas snapped his fingers in front of their faces, without a response. The pair linked to Olawale and showed him what they’d found by virtue of their implant transfers. In turn, Olawale linked them to Orbit, and the views were shared.
Orbit had tried unsuccessfully to contact Juliette and Esteban since the traveler had landed aboard the Rêveur and the hatch opened. He was momentarily perplexed until Jodlyne’s view focused on the single word on Juliette’s chest. It said “Julien.” His emotional algorithms soared in hierarchy, and he sent,
Edmas and Jodlyne left the SADEs to recover, and Olawale, without knowing it, imitated Lucia. He sank into the Rêveur’s command chair, his eyes glistening gratefully.
Word spread throughout the fleet that the captains, the lieutenant, and the SADEs had been successfully recovered. There was a great deal of cheering and relief at the recovery of the five.
Lucia’s traveler dropped her aboard the liner. The first thing she did was visit the bay where traveler four sat. She was accompanied by the bay’s crew chief.
The traveler rested on its curved bottom. Without the extension of its landing gear, it listed slightly to port.
“Unbelievable the level of energy and impact the shell withstood,” Lucia commented. She was running her hand over the hull to see if the web of fine lines could be felt. They couldn’t.
“Mickey Brandon always said there was nothing tougher than Swei Swee spit,” the chief replied. “I guess we know that extends to the faux variety.”
The Swei Swee females’ two-step process that built their houses was the same one used to construct traveler shells. Young females masticated combinations of minerals and passed the mixture to matrons, who performed a second process within their mouth parts. Then the final material was applied to a hull’s bulkheads to create the shell.
“Did you document this?” Lucia asked, turning toward the chief and hooking a thumb at the ship.
“Thoroughly, Commodore,” the chief replied. “We’ve tested circuitry, systems, and controller. From everything we found, I couldn’t understand how the captains survived the loss of the grav field until Orbit explained his theory of the events to me.”
“I’ve heard,” Lucia said. “Nothing more clearly demonstrates the bond between humans and SADEs.”
Lucia climbed into the ship. The bay crew had set up work lights within the interior to aid their documentation. She examined the SADEs. They were a portrait in stillness, and it gave Lucia an eerie sensation.
“Get a detail in here, Chief. I want whatever that stuff is on their clothing removed,” Lucia ordered.
“It’s lubricant, Commodore. It’s seeped into the fabric. It’d be easier to remove the clothing,” the chief replied.
“That’s never done, Chief. Except for carefully cleaning the lubricant, they’re not to be disturbed. Am I understood?”
“Clearly,” the chief responded, with a snap.
Orbit, who was monitoring the bay, had heard the exchange between the commodore and the chief. His appreciation of Lucia rose. She was treating Juliette and Esteban with great dignity. Then again, that might have been expected. She’d been with Alex since Libre.
Lucia left the bay and made her way to the med suite.
“Pilot’s status?” Lucia asked the medical officer at the monitoring station.
“The lieutenant is stable,” the officer replied. “The nanites are doing their work. She’ll be out of here in two days. She was dehydrated, low on electrolytes, and in need of nourishment. After we release her, she’ll be on light duty for three days.”
“The Jatouche?” Lucia queried.
The med officer admired the commodore’s control. She was inquiring about the others before she asked about the one person she came to the suite to see.
“We were worried his ribs were broken, but the scan only showed hairline fractures and the muscles heavily bruised. He has a much less robust frame than Captain Cinders,” the tech replied. “As you know, we can’t give him our version of medical nanites. Our therapies are keeping him quiet, while he heals.”
“Where are they?” Lucia asked.
The officer pointed out the rooms, and Lucia visited Tacnock first. The little Jatouche was sleeping peacefully. She slipped quietly out of his room and visited Sharon next.
“Commodore,” Sharon said, in surprise and slowly sat up.
“Rest easy, Lieutenant,” Lucia said. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ll be ready for duty soon, Commodore,” Sharon promised. “Apparently, I was the least injured. The pilot’s harness had me strapped tightly in my seat. The captains didn’t make it to seats in time. The SADEs held them, while the four of them got bounced around pretty hard.”
“I heard,” Lucia said. “It’s amazing that any of you survived the blast’s impact.”
“I heard Juliette apologize to Tacnock for his ribs. She said she didn’t have physiological data on his species,” Sharon explained. “Tacnock wasn’t too happy.”
“I could imagine he wouldn’t be, but she did save his life,” Lucia pointed out.
“No, Commodore, Tacnock was miffed that he missed being hugged by Juliette. Apparently, he can’t remember the event.” Sharon balled a fist and tapped it to her temple to indicate Tacnock’s concussion.
“When you’re ready for full duty, Lieutenant, I’ll ensure your captain finds you some quieter assignments,” Lucia promised.
“Begging your pardon, Commodore, but no, thank you. I love flying travelers, and I’m having the time of my life,” Sharon said earnestly.
Lucia laughed at Sharon’s enthusiasm. “Rest and recover, Lieutenant,” she said and left the room.
In the foyer, Lucia glanced toward the officer, who pointed at a room on the left. When Lucia entered the room, she found Kasie sitting in a chair beside Jess’s bed. She made to leave, but Kasie signaled her to wait.
Kasie crossed to Lucia, and said, “I need a break, and I think he’d like you to be here, although he’s been out for a while now.” She slipped her hand into Lucia’s, and the commodore felt a heady sensation of encouragement. Kasie flashed Lucia a quick smile and eased out of the room.
The door slid closed, and Lucia stood there. She stared at the still form on the bed. The scanner overtop the bed constantly transmitted vitals to the monitoring station. The only signs of life were the slow rise and fall of Jess’s chest.
“You ... you’re messing up my once nicely ordered life,” Lucia whispered.
The sound of her own voice broke the impasse that had held her at the door, and she crossed to the bed. She reached out and tentatively touched the back of Jess’s hand. The warmth of his skin broke through the protective barrier that she’d tried to resurrect. The intimate moments with Jess, those precious times when she experienced the desire to let go, even if she never fully did, flooded back to her.
While Lucia reminisced, her fingers stroked Jess’s palm. The sensation stirred Jess from his sleep, and his eyelids fluttered open.
“Hello,” Jess said, focusing on Lucia.
“Hello,” Lucia said, easing closer to lean over the bed and be nearer Jess.
“Did everyone make it?” Jess asked.
Jess coughed, and Lucia handed him his drink cup. It gave her something to do, while she silently choked back her reaction to his question. She loved him for asking about the others first.
“Everyone is fine,” Lucia replied, smiling warmly and taking the drink cup back.
“The SA
DEs too?” Jess pursued.
“The SADEs too. They’re recharging,” Lucia replied.
“You know, Commodore, the assault commander’s job keeps getting tougher,” Jess said. The expression on his face was wistful.
Lucia thought Jess wanted to return to a simpler life and not share one experienced by the Omnians of Alex’s fleets.
“You don’t have to do it, Jess,” Lucia said quietly.
“Yes, I do,” Jess murmured. “Must keep you safe,” were his fading words. His eyelids blinked several times, as he struggled to stay awake, and then they closed.
Lucia wiped away the tears in her eyes. She’d cried the day security hauled her away at her father’s behest and for a long time afterwards. Then one day, she vowed no one would make her cry again and her heart had hardened.
“You’re making me break my vow,” Lucia whispered to Jess and kissed him on the forehead. Her lips lingered, and then she briefly nestled her cheek against his.
Lucia stood, released Jess’s hand, scrubbed again at her tears, and marched out of the room to the monitoring station.
The med officer had expected the commodore when she saw the transition in Jess’s bio data, and she preempted the commanding officer.
“The captain is merely sleeping, Commodore,” the officer said. “He hasn’t slipped into a coma. The nanites are swiftly reducing the brain’s swelling from his concussion. Right now, he needs rest and recuperation time. According to the lieutenant, they ran out of backup power several days before they were rescued. The lieutenant had the foresight to run off water and broth when she heard the low power warning. However, they quickly ran out of both. Orbit did a great job of finding them in time.”
Lucia released the breath that she’d been holding. “Yes, he did,” she said. “I’m to be notified of any change in the captain’s condition.”
“I’ll note that in the records for the staff, Commodore,” the officer said. When Lucia left the med suite, the officer called out, “You can come out now.”
A young male SE med tech slipped out of the supply room.