by M. M. Perry
“No matter what, stick with me. No matter what. Got it?”
Naomi nodded. She got up and followed Mike out. Mike gave the okay signal to the pilots and the shuttle closed up.
Naomi heard Wright’s voice in her ear again as she looked around the Tereshkova’s shuttle bay.
“Locked up tight. Shuttle is secure. Again, shuttle is secure,” she said.
Mike touched his ear as he spoke.
“We’ll try to be back before curfew.”
“Roger that,” Naomi could hear the smile in Wright’s voice. “We’ll keep her warm for you.”
Mike signaled for the group to move out. All the soldiers had their guns out and ready. They moved as one, watching the corners of the shuttle bay. The first thing that Naomi noticed, aside from the strangeness of all the blue flooring, was that only the emergency lights were on. The bay looked deserted. She knew it was possible the Tereshkova had different work schedules than the Magellan, but on the Magellan, shifts went all hours. There was no time when their shuttle bay wouldn’t be awash with activity. She was at least glad to see no hurt, or worse yet, dead people. Whatever had happened, it hadn’t happened in the shuttle bay.
As the group moved further into the shuttle bay, Naomi noticed Chef had taken up a position on the other side of her. The quiet of the shuttle bay was unnerving.
“What do you see?”
Naomi tried not to gasp at the sound of Alphea’s voice. Naomi looked around and wondered if she could whisper loud enough for Alphea without anyone overhearing. She slowed down to separate herself from most of the group. She thought it would be okay if Mike and Chef heard.
“Only the emergency lighting is on,” she said very quietly, hoping the mic would pick up the sound and that she was on the right channel.
She was still unfamiliar with the communication technology since Mike had only taught her how to use it the day before. She was relieved to hear Alphea answer.
“No people though? No bodies?”
“Nothing. It’s terribly quiet.”
Chef stopped just ahead of them.
“Everything alright, Patches?” she whispered back over her shoulder.
“She’s just checking in, Chef,” Mike said. “Patches?”
Chef shrugged.
“She’s the one gonna patch big Maggie up. And we can’t go on calling her civvy. Bit rude of you to suggest it, sir.”
Chef moved off, denying Mike a retort. Naomi smiled to herself. She felt more part of the group now that she had a nickname. They crept up to the rest of the team, stopped at the end of a row of shuttles.
“You think they’re hiding in the shuttles maybe?” Trigger asked, her voice soft.
“These haven’t been touched in over a week,” Kitch replied.
Naomi could tell his voice was very deep, even from his whisper. He reached up and touched the side of one of the shuttles.
“No warmth from standby even. They’re dead cold. Pilots have to turn ‘em over at least once every few days to keep the core from going into shutdown. You couldn’t stay in one of these unless the core was running. No oxygen. Core goes into shutdown; you’ve got another forty-eight until it goes cold. A week, at least, since these were turned over.”
“Maybe they don’t keep the cores online in the Tereshkova,” Casings said.
Naomi winced at the sound of his voice. Even in the dim light she could see abrasions on his face. She wondered what had happened to him.
“It’s a big procedure to get the cores back online,” Kitch replied. “Forty-eight to cool down, forty-eight to warm up. They can’t start ‘til they get to temp without seriously damaging them. Any emergency happens that requires a shuttle, you’d have to wait two days. Dangerous to do that. And so far, not one of these has been ready to go. I can’t think of a reason not to follow standard protocol. Especially over here. They’ve been actively repairing parts of their hull. Protocol is to have a shuttle hot at all times during any hull repair. There should be at least one powered up and ready to go.”
“If they do everything like we do,” Casings insisted.
Kitch shrugged, unwilling to get into an argument.
Mike motioned for them to move further into the shuttle bay. They were getting close to the lift area that normally went straight to the barracks. Instead of a lift, a large archway led to a staircase beyond. The staircase was lit by a single light that didn’t reach down into its depths. Mike stared at the archway.
“You think the military would still be down there? If the rest of the ship looks like this,” Book began.
“Even if it was,” Casings said, “meeting up with them would be the last thing we’d want to do. There’s only six of us. Hundreds of them. Assuming they’re hostile…”
“I have reason to believe they wouldn’t be hostile,” Henry broke in.
It was the first time he’d spoken since they boarded the shuttle. Mike turned to the engineer.
“What do you mean?”
“I was informed that the military here was employing population suppression protocols. For disturbances.”
Naomi tapped her mic, realizing Alphea might want to hear what Henry had to say.
“You were informed?” Mike said approaching Henry menacingly. “And you didn’t think we needed to know?”
“Not everything that went down on this ship was declassified. And, in fact, that’s all I know. Marcus said he was aware that the military had to intervene some time ago. But if it wasn’t the military that caused the trouble over here, it’s possible they’d be willing to help us if we aid them in righting the situation over here. Their conformity has been in freefall for the last week. They’re in a far weaker position now. Negotiating the fourteenth ship’s resources now…”
Mike held up his hand to stop him.
“You’re aware what it means if their conformity is crashing, right?”
Henry just stared at him.
“It means they’re dying. Too many, too fast. The ship will have begun emergency incubation. These are people, not obstacles between us and the fourteenth ship.”
Henry remained quiet, staring at Mike indignantly. Mike shook his head. Naomi clicked her mic off now that Henry seemed to be finished.
“I’ll see what I can add to that, now I’ve got a clue what to look for. Hang in there, Naomi. Your instincts are good,” Alphea said in her ear.
Mike turned to the rest of them.
“We’ll check it out. But take nothing for granted. Nao.. Tesla, are there any ship hazards we should know about on the way down to the belly?”
Naomi glanced at the map.
“Obviously, there are the stairs. And I’m not sure how far out the damage from the fires extends on port. Military stretches the width and most of the length of the ship. It’s possible some of the sections towards port will be depressurized. I’m not entirely familiar with Military though. It’s layout I mean. The map shows it as a whole unit, not its parts.”
“Port would be the mess hall. Right, everyone, let’s move. Slowly.”
“Stop,” Chef shouted as they approached the archway, her voice loud and commanding.
Everyone halted in their tracks. Chef took a few steps forward and crouched.
“I’ll be damned,” she said, resting her elbows on her knees.
“What is it?” Mike asked, motioning to Book that he should move closer to Naomi before Mike joined Chef.
“Trip wire. Good one. I’d like to say we could step over it, but it’d be better if I disarmed it. Safer that way. Might take a few minutes. We’ll want to be more careful. There is someone still here after all,” she said, pulling off her pack.
“Do you think they’ve wired all the exits?”
“Maybe. Recommend I check the other shuttle bay exits after I disarm this one. Get a better sense of the people who set them up. Could be they worried about a boarding party. Could be they wanted to trap the military. Be a good thing to know either way.”
Mike nodded.<
br />
“See to it. Kitch, Trigger. When she’s done here you go with her to scout the other exits. The rest of us will wait here.”
Naomi leaned up against one of the shuttles, already feeling weary as she watched the soldiers move into position. After a few minutes, Mike leaned up next to her.
“Everything okay, soldier?” Mike asked her quietly.
“Yes.”
Chef deftly disarmed the tripwire. She put part of the device in her pack, shoving the rest in a nearby toolbox. Then Chef and her team moved off in search of more traps.
Naomi looked around to see how close everyone was. Henry had moved away and was having a terse conversation with Casings. Book had taken up a position opposite Casings, watching the darkness around the shuttles.
“Mike,” Naomi whispered, “you said you had missions in training. Missions on the Magellan. And that Alphea kept you out of the muck. Were those population suppression missions?”
A dark look crossed Mike’s face.
“Yes. Occasionally, despite everything they’ve done to keep the civilians in line, occasionally they had a problem. Someone holed themselves up in a storage closet, trying to re-route the ship, send it back to Earth because they don’t think we’re going anywhere. That kind of thing.”
Naomi rubbed her arms.
“I guess they don’t tell people about it when it happens,” she said.
“No.”
“When I discovered the problem with the power regulator for the port jets, I reported it. It was dire. Our trajectory was already off. Every day it would get worse. Our ship would have shot right past Macha. By the time we figured out how to re-route the pre-programmed trajectory, well, you know our supplies are finite. I knew why we had to keep everything quiet. I patched up that regulator six times, and every time I was the only one down there. And I knew why. There would be so much panic if people knew how dire it was. So believe me, I understand the need to keep that kind of thing quiet. I knew why our mission over here was kept need to know.”
Naomi rubbed her arms to ward off the chill creeping up them before she continued.
“I just… it’s made me start to wonder, ‘hey, maybe that’s why that guy next to me was transferred and I haven’t seen her in two months.’ That’s all. I don’t think less of you because of those missions. I know you’re following orders, just like I was when I kept quiet. It must be a very hard job.”
Mike stared at Naomi uncomfortably.
“I… yes. Yes. From time to time, it is.”
“That must be why you don’t have to conform. The builders, they must have realized how upset that would make you, the military. That’s why you’re exempt.”
Mike screwed up his face, guilt welling inside of him. He couldn’t think about this, not now. He’d tell her the truth after the mission. He changed the subject, unwilling to add to the lies she’d been told.
“Why did you end up repairing the regulator? Didn’t they call in gennies?”
Naomi shifted her weight.
“Yes. Immediately. But I was already in there when I saw the failure at my station. I ran all the way to the jet maintenance bay. I knew what I needed to use would already be in there. All the supplies. And a printer, because we have to make minor repairs all the time. By the time the gennies arrived I had already completed a patch job and was working on something that would last a little longer. Anyway, it couldn’t wait for a gennie. Our path is designed for three hundred thirty-one years of acceleration intermixed with three hundred thirty-one years of deceleration to give us gravity to keep us physically capable of living on a planet again. But it also means everything has to be very precise. We can lose a few hours of slowdown on one jet. Maybe even a day. But no more than that. We would start to turn. Slowly, but it would happen. And it would add up.”
“There’s no way we can keep repairing it?” asked Mike.
“No. Well, yes. But that would be one of those decisions I wouldn’t want to make. The parts and materials needed for repairs so that it would last until Mission’s End… We’d have to cannibalize another major system. The systems that have the sufficient materials? Life support. Obviously, it couldn’t be that. Bio-resources? We’d lose all our food production, so no on that. Energy shielding? Clearly not that. Then you get into the systems that are - non-essential seems so terrible to say. Incubation. It takes a lot of power to run that. Shut it down, and we’d destroy all the bio-matter there, all the carefully chosen genetic material. All the fertile individuals.”
“No babies. We’d be the last generation,” Mike said.
“Yes.”
“Any other choices?”
Naomi nodded.
“The medical facilities run on a large processing unit. It makes all the artificial organs, skin, and bones for when people are injured. It runs the full body diagnostics to determine the best course of action to repair injuries. We could probably hobble along without it if we had to, relying on the ingenuity of the doctors themselves. They’re capable of that, but when we got to Macha… None of us has ever lived on a planet before. We don’t know what might be there, what kinds of dangers. The medical unit is designed to come with us. Without it, we may not make it very long.
“Finally, there’s main propulsion. We don’t technically need it. It hasn’t been used since the initial burn centuries ago to get us out of Earth’s orbit. But the propulsion jets couldn’t provide the power we’d need to escape orbit. So if we get to Macha and it isn’t suitable, we’d have no way of getting everybody to Anand. The shuttles aren’t designed to travel that far.”
Naomi saw Chef coming back. She was scanning the area around her and moving slowly.
“But we don’t have to make that decision. We’re here. And they haven’t used up all their spare regulators. They have one left.”
“Let’s hope we can get it without too much trouble then,” Mike said, standing straight. “Chef, what’s the word?”
“A bit of a mixed bag. I do suspect these were intended for the Tereshkova’s military, and not for landing parties like ours. There were more, but mainly closer to access ways to the belly. Further away, closer to where we came in, there weren’t any. But these were well-hidden. And none had been set off. I can’t see a civilian coming up with this design, or having access to these materials. So we have two issues I can account for. These were placed in locations designed to target people exiting the belly, but they were also made by military. And second, whoever they were placed to catch, didn’t get caught in them and didn’t disarm them. I doubt very much anyone came through here to get to whoever was trying to keep them away.”
Mike took everything in and nodded.
“Then I think it’s settled. I’d rather not leave the shuttle bay by this exit. Who knows how many unsprung traps are out there. We’ll scout the belly, and see if we can find an exit where someone has at least triggered a few of these guys, and we’ll take that path. Watch yourselves, soldiers, you know what to look for. Chef, you take point.”
Eight
Naomi squinted in the dim light of the barracks. The Military unit was about as different as could be from the shuttle bay. Bodies were strewn about the floor. Bits of people dripped down walls pocked with bullet holes. The air was thick with a sickening, metallic smell. She found a cloth in her pack and held it to her face to help smother the smell. She was thankful that, for some reason, life support was malfunctioning in the Military unit. It was close to freezing, which had kept the bodies from rotting much.
Naomi wasn’t alone in her revulsion. None of the squad was ready for the extreme carnage. They each, in their own way, tried to keep from being ill as they slowly made their way through the barracks. For the soldiers, it was particularly troubling. They lived in barracks mostly identical on the Magellan. The familiarity made it hard to look at.
“It’s like a nightmare version of home,” Book said, grimacing.
He glanced over to see Naomi, between him and Mike, making her way throug
h as best she could. He was impressed with her resolve. He’d seen soldiers break down from less.
They all stopped when Chef held up her hand. She pointed through the cloud of mist her breath had puffed around her to a dimly lit archway with stairs.
“That might be our exit, there,” she said quietly.
The archway was blackened and gouged. Pieces of what had once been a person painted the walls around it.
“That goes up into General Leisure. Starboard. Should be okay?” Mike looked at Naomi and she nodded, trying not to focus too much on the scene.
They slowly approached the archway. Naomi’s foot slipped in the icy blood on the ground. Book gripped her arm, steadying her.
“I gotcha,” he said, helping her through the door.
“Thanks,” she said gratefully.
The stairs were a minimalistic industrial design, made from whatever spare chunks of metal the people of the Tereshkova could scrounge up. They were made from what looked suspiciously like hull plating. Each stair made a clunking sound when touched, which Naomi tried her best to muffle by stepping slowly and softly. The plating made it impossible, vibrating noisily under every step.
“The hull is designed to disperse impact. These plates transform the energy into a kind of vibration. There’s no way to walk on it without the sound spreading,” Book said, noticing the way Naomi stepped.
“Ah, yes, that makes sense,” Naomi said. “We’ve had to use it a time or two for makeshift parts. It makes this crazy sound when you drill into it.”
“I bet,” Book said, imagining it.
They stopped at the top of the stairs. Chef had bent down to check on something.
“This one’s been disarmed. Come on through.”
They moved into the hallway. The normally shiny floors had become dull in some places. The emergency lights bounced off the blue lining the corridors turning the light into an eerie glow.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss the orange,” Chef said, staring at the floor.
They crept up to a wide intersection of halls and stopped, looking down each side.
“Now,” Mike said looking at the map Naomi had marked up, “we want to get here. It’s very close to the damage you talked about. As curious as we might be about what happened here, that’s secondary to our mission. I don’t know if we can help these people. I don’t know if these people even want our help. I think it’s in our best interest to avoid contact with them if possible. We’ll save the peace-keeping for another mission. This is about the part we need, nothing more.”