Obsidian Ressurection

by T J Bryan

  "You didn't take him to the lockup yourself?" asked Helen.

  "No. I had Captain Winton take him in and then the staff sergeant to book him in. I want Snorre to stew for a while and we have assigned the lowest level officer to interrogate him on the charges. I'm sure he will take this as an insult to his dignified position and that is exactly how I want him to take it."

  Abel looked at Emmitt who was studying the MS and Helen turned to Abel, "I hope he stews and bubbles until he squeaks."

  Helen stood, "We are ready for the controlled maintenance procedure. Silvi and I removed the bulkhead covering the tank that needs its' contactor hub repaired. It's tagged as a drone repair. Were ready to authorize the fix and watch what happens."

  "Oh," Silvi spoke up. "Lennie just crashed through level five and the simulator ordered him to report to you immediately. Don't know what that's about but Lennie is nervous. He thinks he might have broken something."

  Abel paused a moment, "Let me suit up and I'll see Lennie in my quarters. Then we go watch the maintenance procedure." Abel had taken to wearing the Greayson ship suit only while on the ship. When ashore in the station he wore his ES uniform suit. He was after all still the Chief and the citizens expected to see him in his blues and officer's cap.

  Abel was changing when Lennie rapped twice on the captain's outer hatch cover. Abel hit the door switch as he pulled on his white shorts. "Ok, Lennie what's this about. You crashed something?"

  Lennie looked about the small cabin, "That's just Silvi. I didn't crash anything. But I made class five about an hour ago. And now the simulator won't let me play the game until I talk to you. I don't know what this is all about but I think I can make level six within a few days. If only I can get back on."

  Abel then sat at his captain's console and pulled up Lennie's records. "It says here I must approve your level four and five grades for you to advance any further. Let me see... Ah there it is." Abel clicked a few times and typed a line into the captains consol. "There, congratulations Lennie you are now officially a full Pilot Level Five. That is a full pilot on a ship that cannot fly."

  Lennie smiled. "Can I go back to the game now?"

  "Sure, but I'd like you to help us watch the maintenance procedure in the mess first. The more eyeballs we have on what happens the better."

  Moments later Abel joined Helen, Lennie, and Silvi in the mess. Emmitt stayed at the MS ready to key permission on the urgent fix to the mess contactor hub. The 2 meter tall wall panel of the mess had been removed and now leaned up against the bulkhead a few feet away. Able looked into a mass of pipes and what appeared to be surge tanks and small pumps. "Which one is the 'contactor hub'?

  Helen looked at a diagram in her hand and then pointed. "That one! It's between the those two lines and that pump just in front of that surge tank. It's that flanged thing about the size of your fist."

  Abel looked closely but could not make sense of what Helen said. So he decided to wait and see. He reached for his vid-com, "Ok Emmitt punch it up."

  "Done," Emmitt replied. "I'll be there in a moment."

  The crew waited and stared at the panel for the longest time and nothing happened.

  "Perhaps it's broken," whispered Emmitt. "I mean the maintenance droid or whatever comes to fix these things. Or I didn't click on the right protocol."

  Helen said, "Let's give it some time." Helen sat down at the mess table to wait as did Lennie and Silvi. Emmitt seemed too nervous to sit so he stood and watched the plumbing like it was some kind time bomb.

  Just as Lennie was about to leave they all heard a slight sound like a whisper of air. Then from within the plumbing maze appeared a mechanical spider. Or that was about the only thing one could call it. The flattened oval shape was about 30 centimetres but surrounding the core were a dozen articulated arms or hands. Each about 40 centimetres long and with small tools attached to each appendage. In one arm, if one could call it an arm, it held a bit of plumbing that looked like a tea strainer.

  "That's a droid?" asked Lennie. "I expected something bigger like in the old holo-vids. You know with big glowing eyes and a armoured carapace, about two meters tall and making lots of threatening machine noises."

  No one replied as all were enthralled with the little droid as it adeptly uncoupled the connector hub, removed the old 'tea strainer' and replaced it with a new one. Moments later it was gone.

  "Now that was easy," said Emmitt.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jamon System - 1033 - Year 3245. June 24 ET: 07:01

  After what later became known as the "droid watch" Abel and most of the crew called it a night. Abel was tired and when the wake up chime sounded at 07:00 he really wanted to roll over and continue sleeping. However he knew better and rose. The ship suits had proven so comfortable that the crew had taken to sleeping in them. Sleep in the suits everyone recognized as an added safety precaution in case of an internal blow-out. Old habits die hard in the Habitat and now on 1033 as well. Abel quickly stripped off his ship suit and took a short hot shower in the tiny stall within his quarters permitted of a ship's captain. The night before he had gone to the pursers station and called up a fresh suit which this morning he put on. Grabbing the old suit he passed the pursers station on the way to the command con and tossed the suit into the cycler. He paused a moment. Something smelled good. The crew must have ordered breakfast and had it delivered.

  Abel wondered where the breakfast might be but laughter and loud talking led him to the ships mess. The crew, and Buddy who had arrived early to join the game, were seated around the mess table eating scrambled eggs, steak, hash brown near-potatoes, and forbidden toast. On the far wall, which yesterday had been a stainless steel desert, there was a buffet laid out with more than enough food to feed a small army.

  "Try the eggs," said Lennie as he speared another bit of rare steak.

  "Yea and put some of that orange marmalade on your toast," said Silvi.

  Abel's mouth was watering and he realized how hungry he had become and how tired of Nolo's diminishing menu he had become. He approached the buffet took a plate and began to dish up his breakfast. Then he stopped and turned. "Where did breakfast come from? Certainly not from the diner and half these items are on the restricted ration list."

  Emmitt stood and pointed to the wall. The wall behind which was the located the fresh contactor hub. "You mean that little hub is all that stood between us and a decent meal?"

  Emmitt smiled, "Yes that was all. We need to get more maintenance done today. I wonder what other miracles are delayed by deferred maintenance."

  Abel sat and began to eat the best meal he had had since his wife had died. "Greayson seems to have fed it's people well. My thanks to the Greaysons may the enjoy eternity in peace."

  Abel and the crew discussed the days plan which included approving half a dozen seemingly small maintenance items that Emmitt had chosen. They were small things like something called a Benson Fuse refurbishment, and a Sewage Plumbing Scrub although anything to do with plumbing was hardly 'small' and not lacking potential danger. None of the crew were yet entirely comfortable with approving all the urgent items on the list. Some seemed like major tasks such a fusion engine containment core wash: whatever that was. It sounded complex and perhaps dangerous. They all agreed to wait a few days before authorizing those urgent tasks and a few other items that seemed to entail risk or involve major and in some cases very large components.

  Lennie spoke up, "I checked the simulator early and it won't let me in."

  Abel looked up, "Oh? I approved your promotion."

  "Yeah, but it says I am to report to the command center for further flight training and that I am to be supervised by a higher level pilot. I guess I'm screwed."

  Silvi spoke, "Makes sense. The simulator wants you to start actually flying this tub. A simulator can only take you so far, so it thinks you need to warm up a pilot's seat." Silvi paused took a bite of toast and continued. "But your probably right. Your screwed." Silvi laughed b
ut when she saw the look on Lennie's face she immediately apologized. "Sorry brother, I didn't really mean that."

  Abel had never heard Silvi call Lennie 'brother.' And it seemed that Silvi was searching for a term of endearment to truly express a sincere apology.

  "I'll look at the captain's console Lennie when I get back from my visit to the lock up and my meeting with the Chairman," Abel said. "Emmitt you ready?"

  "Yes, let me change into my street clothes. I am so looking forward to today's Ship Design Committee meeting, I could wet my pants," Emmitt replied chuckling at his own joke.

  "I guess I'll have to change as well. After all I am Chief and the citizens expect me to look like one."

  "Are you going to talk with Snorre?" Asked Emmitt as they left 1033 and walked onto the dock.

  "I don't know. Depends on if he's talking. If he is as stubborn as I think he will be, and won't talk, then I won't see him. He needs to understand how serious this power play was, and that he has lost this game he was playing. He has no leverage now. Best he stew until he is wiling to talk and back down."

  "Could take a long time if I know Snorre." Emmitt sighed.

  "Yes, but I have a few ideas on how to get him and the Guild moving again."

  ...

  Jamon System - Chairman's Office - Year 3245. June 24 ET: 11:43

  "So Snorre won't talk, is that it Chief?" replied Victor as Abel related his visit to the ES Station and its' jail.

  "No he won't. The desk sergeant tells me he just sits there staring at the wall and occasionally screaming to be let out. Keeps talking about justice and the Guild's honour."

  Victor turned to Arne Thorgaut this term's Judicar. "Any thoughts Arne?"

  As Chief, Abel knew the Judicars well having appeared before them at least two or three times a week in the Judicial Chambers. Judicars served terms aligned with that of the Chairman's six year term and were chosen from among the members of the Justice Confederation which was a department of the Collegium, but was for all intents and purposes independent. Arne was thoughtful, conservative, and Abel thought a bit reactionary, but fair. However in the face of an emergency Abel knew that Arne would act.

  Arne thought a moment before responding. "You're not going to like what I have to say and it will probably make a few folks very angry."

  "Well?" asked Victor.

  "I propose that today we detain the next two executives of the Guild. That would be Milne Ulf and Robert Sanofi. Lock them up with Snorre. Let Snorre share a cell with them. Crowd them a bit. Deny them privacy and the solace of their own thoughts. Now, if they were younger miscreants, I would not suggest putting them together. Youths tend to bond and stick together. But the guild members without the prestige and the honour of the Commonwealth are more likely to start bickering. And knowing Ulf and Sanofi well I suspect they will begin arguing the moment they enter the cell."

  The Chairman nodded, "And if that does not work?"

  "Then we go down the list and each day we arrest the next in line of seniority. I am certain that before we get five or six in the lock up the remaining pilots will see things our way. Sigrunn Havard, Elliot Yee, and Tom Stopford, are at the middle of the seniority ladder and I know they do not approve of Snorre's actions. My proposal is simple; We cut off the head of the snake."

  "Abel?" Victor asked.

  "Yes, I know Elliot and Tom, this will work. But we must press forward. If this goes on much longer then we have to force the issue with the Council and return the Quark at a minimum to the Karrlsons. As for the Queenies we need cooperative members of the Pilot's Guild and I think Elliot and Tom will return to work under the threat of detention. Although I don't think we will get that far and I'm not sure I want an angry disheartened pilot flying any buss I'm seated in.""

  The Chairman rose from his seat and placed his hands on the only true wood table in the habitat, some ancient artefact brought to the system by the founders. For the first time Abel noticed a knotted rope hanging just out of sight off the end of the table. "All right. No more than three days. That's all the time I can give." Abel shook his head. "Yes Chief I know this hurts, three days, but we are not barbarians or criminals. We will adhere to the Charter of the Commonwealth to resolve this matter."

  Judicar Thorgaut added, "Even if we have to bend the Charter just a little bit. As the ancients said 'If you are afraid of being lonely, don't try to be right.'"

  "Or dead," commented Victor.

  As the meeting ended Judicar Thorgaut sat at the Chairman's desk and authorized the arrest of Ulf and Sanofi. He then transmitted the warrants to Abel's inter-tab. Moments later Abel set out for the station to gather several officers and proceed to the homes of Ulf and Sanofi.

  The service of the warrants was without incident. No crowd had formed to support Milne and Robert. They were handcuffed and frog marched down the lane to the lock up. Along the way a few unemployed or off duty miners muttered epithets at the Guild Pilots, and at one point Abel was concerned that Svanhild Havalman, who ran the local pub, would strike Milne. She was a large woman and a miners widow. She knew what the Guild was doing and she was very mad at the sight of Ulf and Sanofi walking in police custody. Milne looked ashamed as Svanhild joined in the shouting and cursing. Robert just looked straight ahead trying to ignore the curses and shouts. So much for honour and prestige Abel thought.

  At the ES station Ulf and Sanofi were booked and soon joined Snorre in a cell designed for only two. Abel had chosen to remain in the background so as to not inflame Snorre's obviously lagging spirits. Let them stew in the same pot he thought and set out to return to 1033.

  Abel decided to take a walk through the Maintenance Dock on his way to the lift that would take him up to the old mining dock and 1033. As he passed through he saw that Quark was sitting in her berthing cradle. Further down the dock he saw survey volunteers in two rows again practicing donning and removing their new military grade vac suits. In the frigid air of the dock the volunteers seemed to produced thirty small clouds as their breath condensed around them. This day almost all of the volunteers seemed to don the suits in the required 70 seconds. Again assisting one less experienced volunteer was Farn Mayer. She was kneeling and sowing the new volunteer how to reduce the tension of the knee block. The volunteer kept getting the sequence wrong, but Farn gently repeated the manoeuvre over and over until he got it right. Farn slapped the volunteer on the shoulder and Abel could here her say 'Well done' in the frigid air.

  Farn was fully suited but she held her helmet in her left hand as she went down the line inspecting each volunteer in turn. Offering some words of advice or complement as she went along. Moments later Farn noticed the Chief and stood at attention and saluted. Abel returned the salute. Many of the volunteers turned to see who Farn was acknowledging, and several others, those whom seemed most skilful with the suits, saluted as well. Abel noticed that the tape across Farn's suit chest now read 'Farn Mayer, Team Leader.' The title 'trainee' had been removed. Abel wondered again how old was Farn? 16? He decided to look it up later.

  Abel was not comfortable with saluting or military bearing. As Chief of Emergency Management Services he was more interested in skill and proven ability under pressure than in any rank or system of status. In fact Abel was suspicious of rank systems which often hid incompetents in positions of authority which prevented the lower levels, of often more skilled people, from performing to their potential. The recent acts of the Pilot's Guild had only reinforced his view. However others, such as Farn and the volunteers, loved the formality, and appreciated the recognition of the Chief as he returned a salute. No harm done thought Abel as he walked to the lift to return to the Mining Dock One.

  By the time Abel arrived at the 1033 it was lunch time. Upon entry to the hatch he noticed that someone had moved the knotted rope into the passageway and hung it in an inconspicuous place out of the way of anyone passing by. After changing into his ship suit he went to the mess and found the Lennie, Larry, and Silvi as well as, Buddy Brunner, s
itting at the table laughing and talking while eating lunch. Helen had gone off to the Collegium to talk to some professor about the mysteries of 'astrogation' and Emmitt had another of his tortuous Committee meetings to attend. Silvi was eating a sandwich but the rest of the crew was eating what looked like chilli and cornbread. Cups of tea, coffee, and orange juice littered the steel table top. Abel looked for the buffet but only a bare stainless steel counter could be seen.

  Buddy spoke up first. "Over there," he pointed. "Go to that vid screen. There's today's menu. Lots of stuff to choose there. The chilli with cornbread is really good."

  Abel turned and saw a vid screen above a kind of serving station. Looking at the screen he chose a turkey and cheese sandwich with all the trimmings and a orange soda. The vid screen displayed a 120 second count down clock. As the number spun down Abel turned and looked at what was becoming a crew. He thought a moment about Helen and Emmitt's cautious wisdom and long life experience, Lennie's remarkable piloting skills, Larry's loyalty, Buddy's always positive outlook, and finally Silvi's leadership. Quite a team he thought.

  The serving station chimed and Abel turned back toward the station as a panel slid open and his sandwich and drink slid out on a steel tray. The sandwich looked as if it were made by human hands, but Abel knew that unless someone was hiding behind the bulkhead his lunch had been made by a machine. While standing he took a bite. It was very good, in fact better than sandwiches served in the local diners. He turned and found an open seat at the mess table.

  Abel took a long look at the crew and thought about this magnificent ship that would never fly again. Abel had always tried to be an optimist and as Chief of ES facing so many crisis, disasters and untimely deaths, it had been hard to remain positive. But optimism was a requirement to keep on going within the void. Abel remembered something his mother always said: 'The optimist says that we live in the best of all possible worlds; and the pessimist fears this is true.' But this was not the best possible world and this ship they all had come to love was not going anywhere. Eventually the void would claim them all and there was nothing they could do to stop it.