Spindown

by Andy Crawford

“Wait!” Mattoso cut him off before he started to work. She had a feeling. Trust your gut, Bea! “Keep it off the network. Work off the storage drive itself. Just in case.”

  Wren frowned and looked at Konami. “Good idea,” said the chief inspector.

  “That means I’m gonna have to do it all manually.” Wren looked deflated. “Input each one individually until we find the right kind of program.”

  “At least we don’t have to worry about bandwidth this time,” Mattoso offered with a grin.

  No one smiled.

  CHAPTER 33

  “Each of you is holding the brand new sidearm, fresh from Fabrication,” announced Deputy Chief Inspector Kiro Gregorian. He’d been a shooting instructor for his police department on Mars, so he was the logical choice onboard. Loesser and a few others would learn from Gregorian, and help train the hundreds of roving watches to be certified to carry the weapon. “Officially designated the Personal Defense Sidearm Mark One, and designed by our very own Mechanical techs and engineers, you can feel free to call it a dart gun, ‘cause that’s what it is.”

  The trainees were arranged in a line in the middle of the Arena, the only appropriate venue. Each one stood behind a pedestal upon which sat the ungainly weapons.

  “Not only are you trainees, but you are all product testers,” explained Gregorian. “Other than the one in my hand, none of these weapons have been fired. Before you touch your weapon, you will put on your eye protection. Yes, that means you, Third. And before you touch the gun, remember the most important rule — do not point your weapon at anything you do not intend to destroy. Yes, I know these guns aren’t lethal, but treat them like they are, at all times. If you point your gun at me, I will shoot you, and you will wake up in Medical with a hangover and some remedial training. Now, everyone, pick up your dart guns.”

  Along with Konami, the few dozen constables and rovers present picked up their dart guns. The guns were awfully large — a long, blocky barrel, and unadorned, angular handle; much less sleek than the slugthrowers he recalled from Singapore and Lagos. The edge cut into the webbing of Konami’s thumb. Gonna have to work on the ergonomics for Mark Two…

  “As you may or may not know, the dart guns are powered by compressed gas. The compressed gas canisters are rechargeable and replaceable, and the indicator on the top should read ‘full.’ A single charge is enough for about one hundred shots. Any problems so far? No? Okay. Charging stations will be installed at the Constabulary offices.”

  On a vessel whose mission and even construction was based on a philosophy of non-violence, weapons training seemed surreal to Konami. Feels like playing racketball in a church. If such a heathen as he felt like this, he couldn’t imagine the conflicting feelings inside his native Aotean constables.

  “At the bottom of the handle, on the left side, is the safety switch — make sure it’s pointed down, which means the safety is on. Everyone good? Okay. Now pick up the magazine. Each magazine is loaded with twenty darts. Insert the magazine into the handle. Your weapons are now loaded.”

  The gun was heavy and bulky. It looked like a poorly designed toy for a very large child, not that toy guns were allowed onboard.

  “Now, point the gun at the target.” Safety’s still on, Kiro! “Line up the nose sight with the bullseye. Pull the trigger once.” There were several empty clicks and one sound like a sneeze, and a single trainee’s dart shot out. “Damn it, Third! Did I say to take the safety off?”

  “No, Deputy—”

  “You’re damn right I didn’t! You’re disqualified from this session. Sign up for a later one. And go tell your chief that you’re gonna need someone else to cover your first roving watch until you get through the dart gun training.”

  After a bit of grumbling, the technician left. Kiro ordered everyone to take off the safety, aim at the bullseye, and fire. Several dozen sneezes rang out. Konami’s dart struck the target, about twenty meters away, a few centimeters off center. Looking at the other targets, he realized he had by far the best shot — many of the targets weren’t even struck. A tiny surge of pride came to him, embarassing him.

  Gregorian gestured at a projection, and the un-struck targets moved closer to the shooters. “Aim, and fire once more.”

  This time, everyone struck their target. They worked through the entire magazine, determining that most of the dart guns were accurate to ten meters, and off by several centimeters at twenty. At thirty meters, the darts had trouble penetrating the poly skin of the target, if one was lucky enough to get a hit.

  “Reload!”

  Everyone removed their magazine and replaced it with a new one.

  “Aim! Fire!”

  Thump.

  “Fire!”

  Thump. Konami’s head started to hurt.

  “Fire!”

  Thump.

  “Fire!”

  Thump.

  “Fire!”

  His head pounding, Konami shut his eyes for a moment, trying to block out a gruesome memory.

  “You okay, Cy?” asked Gregorian, voice low.

  He opened his eyes back up. Everyone else was reloading, aside from one young tech, holding his stomach and scurrying away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think that’s enough for me, for now.”

  Without waiting for an answer, Konami put the gun down and walked away.

  CHAPTER 34

  “First issue,” started Captain Horovitz. “Forward Can status. GravTran?”

  Despite her fatigue, Mattoso was excited to attend her first department head meeting. Commander Dofo, the Operations officer, had been ordered to bed rest due to exhaustion, and Mattoso was dubbed as the acting department head until he recovered. Looking around the room, she wasn’t the only substitute – many other department heads were apparently too busy or too exhausted, and sent deputies. With the way her head throbbed, she wondered how long she could manage before she’d need to recover in bed as well.

  There was major damage to one of the auxiliary rotation gearheads, one of the many massive, several-ton gear assemblies that enabled the smooth rotation of the cans. “At first we suspected wear,” continued Commander Konrote. “But then we found pitting that might be indicative of a chemical reaction. The gear is being replaced and we should be able to restore normal rotation within a few days.”

  Chief Engineer Papka asked for the cause of the chemical reaction, but Konrote said that it was wiped clean, with no chemical residue.

  No one wants to say sabotage. What was unthinkable just weeks before now seemed obvious.

  Konrote explained that they had installed monitoring equipment on the rotation gears, so that any further sabotage would be immediately noted and recorded. He finished with some technical details, and the Captain asked Konami for the status of the investigation.

  Konami paused, and Mattoso thought she saw him swallow. “Based on circumstantial evidence only, we have a list of several dozen persons of interest. Not necessarily suspects for either murder, but for some sort of involvement.”

  “Can we see this list?” asked Mayor Akunle.

  “No.”

  The mayor’s perpetual smile disappeared.

  “What?” The XO almost got to his feet, but remained seated with a look from Captain Horovitz.

  The captain fixed Konami with a stare and asked him to explain.

  Konami took a deep breath. “I’ve thought long and hard about this. I haven’t been able to sleep because of this. This is not a small murder conspiracy. There are senior personnel involved. Likely someone, or someones, in this meeting.”

  Shouts and grunts and near-pandemonium erupted, finally dissipating with a circular glare from the captain.

  “Go ahead, CI.”

  “Someone knew enough about the Sewage systems, and auxiliary systems, to fake a clog, and jam the door.”

  “That was Singh,” said Papka.

  “No. Singh may have done the dirty work, but he was following orders. He didn’t have any electrical training, or fluid systems training
. He had basic quals plus Chem watch quals, and no advanced training in his record.”

  “Maybe someone else was involved, but how do you know it’s one of us?” This was Commander Konrote, appearing particularly aggrieved.

  “How do we know it’s not you, Inspector?” whined the chief engineer. What a weasel CHENG Papka is…

  Konami slapped the table. “I’m the only fucking person in this room who we can guarantee is not involved!” He looked around the room, as angry as Mattoso had ever seen him. The anger frightened her for a moment – she couldn’t recall seeing such rage since a childhood bullying incident on Ceres.

  “Does anyone think that this is over?” continued Konami. “Does anyone think that we’ve seen our last dead Aotean? Does anyone think that, whatever these murders are covering up hasn’t been in the making for a long time? I’ve been onboard for five years. Five Earth-years. Six or seven cycles. Just a few before we left Earth system. Have any of you been onboard for less than twenty?”

  He paused, and no one challenged him. I’ve only been onboard for 10 cycles, thought Mattoso, but she kept silent. She was pretty sure he was right about everyone else.

  “Someone, or more likely multiple someones, want to change things. Someone with knowledge and influence. They’re not okay with the plan — with Aotea’s plan, as it is right now. You think this is new? Someone came up with this just last year, or the year before?” Konami leaned back and closed his eyes before continuing. It took Mattoso a moment to convert Konami’s ‘years’ into cycles, and she assumed most of the others were having the same problem. “Muahe and Nicolescu found something, or were about to. Or they were part of it, and had second thoughts. The murders weren’t the aim of the conspiracy, they were meant to keep it secret. It’s the aim that I’m most worried about. We find out what they’re planning, and we’ll find the killers.”

  “What could it possibly be?” asked Madani. “What could anyone want to do with Aotea?”

  “War,” offered Papka. “Always war, on Earth. We have Earthers onboard, as we all know.” The chief engineer didn’t shy away from looking at Konami. “This is the most powerful ship ever built. Our reactors generate more energy than half of Earth’s Navy put together.” This last bit was twinged with pride.

  You’ve gotta be kidding, Papka! She couldn’t stifle herself. “Oh come on… they’re going to take over the ship four cycles out from Earth? It’d take us cycles just to slow down and turn around, not to mention another accel-decel to arrive! And what the hell would we do? We’re not exactly ideal warriors. Earth has nukes. Mars does too. If Ceres and the Jovian moons don’t, they could cobble them together in a few months. Big and powerful doesn’t mean much against nuclear weapons.”

  “And we don’t have any weapons ourselves,” added Konami. “What do you call it — reactionless propulsion, right? No drive cone? This isn’t a power play for war, at least not war back home.”

  “We could make weapons,” responded Papka weakly, but no one took up his defense.

  “What about old-fashioned politics?” offered Mayor Akunle. “Like a coup? Not for war, but just for power onboard?”

  Konami shrugged. “Maybe.”

  No one said anything. Konami’s words seemed to be sinking into the department heads — Mattoso noticed several surreptitious looks at one’s neighbors. Could be any of us… She knew this was true — but no one had stated it quite so bluntly before. Coming out, as it did, accompanied by the chief inspector’s anger, somehow made it much more real.

  A very slight buzzing intruded on Mattoso’s thoughts. The meeting had paused for a handful of side conversations, and she tried to isolate the new noise. It seemed to be growing.

  “Does anyone else hear that?”

  The conversations stopped. Abruptly, Commander Konrote almost fell out of his chair getting to his feet.

  “EMERGENCY!” The announcement was almost deafening. “LOSS OF ROTATION IN THE AFT CAN; RIG FOR LOSS OF GRAVITY AND PREPARE FOR SPINDOWN OF THE AFT CAN! EMERGENCY!”

  CHAPTER 35

  The buzzing grew to a metallic whine, broken up by chopping, rhythmic thumps. The department heads scrambled to their feet and moved toward the doors.

  “Hold,” ordered the captain. “Hold! Twenty thousand people look to us for leadership. We will not panic here. GravTran, to the scene. CHENG, aft. Chief inspector, the Constabulary. XO, CC Central…”

  Konami was already out the door. The other department heads headed to the surface, but Konami went down to the moveway level. The emergency announcement repeated, dully resonating among the waytreads and safety bulkheads, and Konami checked his wearable to see which constables were on duty. Minutes later, he climbed up a ladderwell, emerging on the surface next to the aft Constabulary.

  “Activate Delta reserves,” he ordered Constable Loesser as he passed the cramped Emer office. Delta reserves activated every constable and constable-in-training in the department. Since the temporary boost to his numbers assigned from other departments, it also activated all the off-watch Rover deputies.

  He noted with satisfaction that a pair of constables were already rigging the compartment for the loss of gravity, strapping down loose objects and rigging guide cables along the length of each space and passageway, and manually locking the automatic doors open to accommodate the guycables.

  “ALL HANDS PREPARE FOR SPINDOWN! SPINDOWN OF THE AFT CAN IMMINENT!”

  Konami put in a call. “Kiro, man the forward Constabulary.” Can’t believe we just shifted over here! The aft Constabulary was much smaller and only meant for temporary operations, and since both would soon be in freefall, they might as well man the one with more space and functionality.

  “SPINDOWN IN THIRTY SECONDS; ALL HANDS PREPARE FOR SPINDOWN OF THE AFT CAN! THIRTY, TWENTY-NINE, TWENTY-EIGHT...”

  Shit. From the tiny armory cabinet in the back of the office, he armed himself with a dart gun and a stunner. He had no doubt that the latest damage to the Can was sabotage, and no doubt that, whatever was happening in the big picture, it wouldn’t end without violence. His stomach dipped at the thought.

  “…Five, four, three, two, one. SPINDOWN COMMENCING! ALL HANDS BRACE FOR SPINDOWN OF THE AFT CAN!”

  They were still rigging the space when Spindown began. He had a feeling of getting lighter as well as almost losing his balance, like when a commuter train in Singapore suddenly changed speed.

  There was a call on the Emer line from the mayor for Konami – a crowd had gathered outside the mayor’s office.

  Shit. Years before he had recommended a security watch station outside Civil, but that was laughed off — ‘this isn’t Earth, Cy; we don’t have mobs on Aotea.’ He supposed he had been right, but at this point he was glad it was denied... a lone constable in front of a panicking crowd probably could only make the situation worse.

  Constables and roving deputies were trickling in, pulling themselves through the Constabulary passageways hand over hand. Konami selected three of his permanent constables – Lee, Ginsberg, and Dillon, and set out.

  The rig was still ongoing, very clumsily in freefall, as they set off for the aft Civil office. If the rig were complete, they could virtually fly there, using the guycables that would be stretched across the empty space of the can. But what should have been a five minute jaunt turned into twenty minutes, due to the confusion of both riggers and bystanders. Anxious crewmembers would demand assistance in some rigging evolution, only to be brushed aside or ignored by the passing constables. Being Earthers, Konami and Lee copied the practiced movements of Cereans Ginsberg and Dillon, experienced in freefall movement, to travel across the surface as quickly as possible.

  Konami flinched when he thought of Kostya — his dog was probably panic pissing all over Gregorian’s quarters, bounding from wall to wall. At least it’s not my place… Drifting along a passageway, kicking at convenient posts or fixtures to accelerate behind Constable Dillon, he entered a quick search on his wearable for zero-g procedures for pe
t management.

  “In the unlikely event that pets must be kept in a freefall environment, Veterinary Storage Spaces 6 through 12 include padded velcro wallhangs, and pets can be equipped with associated velcro socks that…” He thumbed in a message to the Vet techs to add Kostya to their rapidly growing pet pickup queue.

  They arrived at Civil, and the crowd looked to have grown — Konami estimated over a hundred Aoteans floating outside. Somehow, a freefall crowd was much less intimidating then the angry mobs he recalled from Earth. More like a cloud then a mob…

  Conneer was interviewing members of the crowd. She looked as energized and engaged as he had ever seen her. He’d always had the feeling that, like himself, Conneer needed something to be happening to feel satisfied with her job.

  He asked her to step aside, and surprisingly, she obeyed readily.

  “Hands at your sides,” Konami ordered his deputies, before switching to loudspeaker mode. “May I have your attention,” boomed his amplified voice. He realized it had been a long time since he had studied a crowd-control strategy manual. Gonna have to wing it. “This is an emergency situation. Please disperse, and if you have no orders from your chain of command, remain in your quarters.”

  A tall young man pushed his way to the front of the crowd. “We have the right to know what’s going on!”

  “I don’t know any more than you do.” This wasn’t strictly true, Konami realized, but at the moment he didn’t care.

  “The mayor must know something. We just want to ask—”

  “You’re all Aoteans, goddamnit!” interrupted Konami. “You all took an oath. We all did. There will be a time to ask questions, and your questions will be answered. But right now, our focus should be to get the Can rigged for zero gravity. Safety of the ship and crew comes first. And if you don’t have a role in the freefall rig, or repairs, or some other critical shipboard operation, then stay the hell out of the way.”

  “But what about—”

  Konami put his hand the stunner holster. “Aoteans, we all have our duty. You have your duty. And I have my duty, which at this moment is to keep order on this goddamn starship, which you might have noticed has been less than well-ordered lately. Clear?”