by Magus Tor
“No charge. All part of the service,” he said. “And…” He leaned in a little. “I've got that flight deck permission for you. I'll come get you when things have settled down a little in here and escort you up if you want.”
“Great, thanks.” Aurelia smiled.
He smiled back and went on his way.
Aurelia was staring at the packages in front of her when the tech Worker came back. He sat down heavily next to her.
“Here,” he said. “Like this.”
He took an insta-cup from her and peeled back the lid. He removed a plastic divider that had been holding the two substances inside the cup apart, swirled the cup gently and then reached up to release a tray from the seat in front of her and place the cup on it.
“Let's see what's for dinner, shall we?” He grinned, picking up a meal pack.
Unwrapping the foil lid, he looked in and grimaced. As Aurelia unwrapped her own pack, she saw why. Inside there was something that looked a lot like brown sludge.
“It's alright,” the tech Worker said. “It always looks like this. Usually tastes good, though. It's something about your sense of taste changing when you're in space. They have to make the stuff like this because if it was real stew, it would apparently taste just awful. Still, they could at least have changed the colour or something.”
Aurelia couldn't help but agree with him, though when she tasted the slop she found it was actually pretty good. A cut above school food, anyway. She finished her meal in a couple of minutes and sat back to drink her coffee.
“We've got a long while to go,” the tech Worker said, sitting back too. “Your seat reclines, and they'll dim the lights later so that you can sleep if you want.”
Aurelia was still too hyped up to sleep, and she had an upcoming flight deck visit.
“If you want entertainment, then ask the steward; he'll give you a vid-tablet to watch.”
“Maybe later,” said Aurelia. “Thanks for the tip.”
She was watching the flickering of stars when the steward came for her.
“All ready to go up?” he asked.
“Sure thing.”
She undid her seatbelt, and the tech Worker moved to let her out.
“Have fun!” he said as he reclaimed his seat.
The steward guided her into the central column.
“Just wait here for a couple of minutes. I need to check if anyone needs a vid-tablet and dim the deck lights, and then I'll take you up, okay?”
She nodded. He left her in the column, which was larger than it appeared from the outside. On each side of the entrance were toilets. Directly in front of her she could see a room that looked like it was stocked with meal packs and insta-cups, and next to that was an open door revealing another seat like the one she had just left and a scattering of personal belongings, obviously the steward's room. In the middle of the column was a large, transparent shaft. Aurelia guessed this was an elevator shaft and was proven correct when the steward returned and pressed the call button.
“There are stairs if you prefer,” he said. “But I'm guessing that you don't want to walk up seventy-five floors worth of steps.”
“Not if I can help it,” Aurelia said.
“The elevator is faster, though not by much. And we'll be body scanned before we reach the flight deck. Are you okay with that?”
She nodded. “Security?”
“Security,” he agreed. “It only takes a couple of minutes, and you won't feel anything.”
The elevator doors opened and they got in. The steward keyed in a number, and the lift whooshed into action.
“Do people often visit the flight deck?” Aurelia wanted to know.
“Sure,” said the steward. “Usually it's our younger passengers, but a lot of first-time flyers like to see what's going on too. Watch out, body scan coming up.”
The elevator stopped, but the doors remained closed. An automated voice asked them to remain still and upright, not making contact with the walls of the cabin or with each other. A humming began, and the steward tutted impatiently.
After a couple of minutes the elevator juddered back into life.
“All good now,” said the steward. “Just a second more.”
Even as he said the words, the elevator slid to a halt and the doors opened. Again, they were inside a central column.
“This way,” said the steward.
He guided her out of the column and onto the flight deck, and Aurelia gasped. Everywhere she looked there were monitors and buttons and flashing lights, but the real showstopper was the domed glass ceiling that gave the pilot a full 360-degree view of the sky.
“Impressive, huh?” said the steward, smiling at her awe. “Captain, we have a visitor.”
One of the two men on the flight deck turned in his chair. Seeing Aurelia, he smiled. “First time flyer?”
“I know, I know, I've been told that I look like a scared cat.”
“Maybe more like a puppy,” said the pilot with a grin. “Come, sit down; I'll talk you through everything.”
The steward escorted Aurelia to the seat next to the pilot and told her he'd be back in fifteen minutes to take her back down to her deck.
“So,” said the pilot. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything!” Aurelia answered.
He laughed again and began an obviously well-rehearsed explanation of the main points of the flight deck. When he was finished, Aurelia still looked rather overawed.
“Is it really only the two of you up here?” she asked, referring to the pilot and his second-in-command, whom she had been briefly introduced to.
“That's all it takes,” the pilot said. “Actually, I could do it single-handed - in fact, the shuttle could fly itself and generally does, but for safety reasons we keep two qualified pilots on board.”
“Makes sense.”
“And what about you? New med Personnel, from the looks of your uniform.”
Aurelia quickly explained what she was doing on board the shuttle.
“Phew,” whistled the pilot. “You must be pretty special to get a posting in Lunar right after graduation.”
“Top of my class,” boasted Aurelia.
“Parents both top rank?”
“My dad yes, my mom second rank.”
“Those are some stellar qualifications you got there, girl. With credentials like that and the right connections in Lunar, you could find yourself moving up the social ladder.”
This was what Aurelia had avoided talking about with her father earlier. It was possible for a Worker to become Elite. It wasn't common; it was actually incredibly rare. However, the Ruling Class needed to make sure that a certain percentage of the population were Elite. They also needed, for want of a better phrase, new breeding stock. The danger of keeping a small group of people completely Elite was the risk of inbreeding. That meant that every now and again a Worker could be elevated to the Ruling Class. Those elevated were always top-of-the-line Workers. They were those with impeccable credentials, stunning work history, and, of course, safe political views. They were also, more often than not, women rather than men.
“Could be,” said Aurelia, smiling politely at the pilot.
It wasn't that it hadn't crossed her mind; of course it had. To become Ruling Class and eligible for Elite privileges, including permanent residency in Lunar City and the right to stop working should she choose, was the dream of many Workers. Aurelia didn't want to curse her chances of elevation by talking about them. Plus, the thought of elevation scared her. And truthfully, elevation was not her motivation. She loved her work; she wanted to work. But should she be elevated, she stood to gain a lot.
Returning her attention to the pilot, she saw that he was pointing out star clusters to her. This piqued her interest, and she was questioning him about navigation when a red light began to flash on one of the monitors.
“Damn thing,” said the pilot, looking at it. “We get false alarms like this all the time. Sensors are too sensit
ive.”
The co-pilot swung his seat over to the flashing monitor. “I'll switch it off,” he said.
“Okay, just note it in the log.”
The pilot turned back to his conversation with Aurelia, but before he could open his mouth, the co-pilot spoke again.
“Weird, it won't let me override the safety settings,” he said.
“Here, let me look.” The pilot smiled at Aurelia. “Just a second.”
The two men pored over the monitor, pressing icons. Then a siren began to sound, shrilly cutting through the calm air of the flight deck.
“Shit, that's all we need,” muttered the pilot. “Fine.”
He moved over to the main control panel and pressed a couple of buttons, bringing down a screen. He then zoomed in on the picture. As Aurelia watched, she could see his face whiten.
“Code 37,” the pilot barked.
“Code 37 received,” the co-pilot responded.
Both men began hitting buttons and clicking on icons on the screens in front of them.
“For the sake of the Gods, turn that damn siren off,” growled the pilot, not looking away from his monitor.
The siren stopped, mid whoop.
All of this had happened so quickly that Aurelia had barely taken it in. There was obviously a problem here, a big one. She didn't know what to do and thought about leaving the flight deck but didn't know how. She didn't want to distract the pilots from their job, but she knew that she probably shouldn't be up here right now.
“Shields are coming online, at five percent power and gaining,” said the co-pilot.
“There's a security breach on deck 31,” responded the pilot.
The pilot moved over towards his original console, his eye catching Aurelia as he did so.
“Gods, I forgot you were here. You need to get off the flight deck, now.”
Aurelia fled towards the elevator door. Then she remembered that she didn't know the access code and turned back. “Hey!” she shouted.
“Girl, the shuttle is being attacked!” yelled the pilot. “Get off the flight deck!”
“Access number!”
“Shit, plug in your personal ID number.” And the pilot turned back to his console, fingers flying as he hit keys.
“Shields at eight percent and gaining,” said the co-pilot as the elevator doors slid open in front of Aurelia.
She stepped into the cabin, her heart beating so fast that it could escape her chest at any second. She was rapidly running over the safety instructions she had heard earlier. Surely the shuttle wasn't really being attacked? That never happened. She'd never heard of it happening. It must be a false alarm, or a drill. Yes, that was it. A drill. The elevator doors had closed, but the cabin wasn't moving. Aurelia remembered that she hadn't hit the code, and with a shaking hand she keyed in her number. The elevator beeped, and the automated voice said the number was not recognised.
Shit. What now? Oh Gods, she'd done it again. Entered her old number. She took a deep breath and ran over the new number in her head. Then she tried again. This time the elevator accepted the code, and the cabin began to move downwards. She sighed in relief. Not that anything was going to happen. This was just a drill, after all. But she didn't want to get into trouble. All she wanted now was to sink back into her seat on her deck.
The elevator ground to a halt. What? She cursed the stupid technology. Then the automated voice came back, warning her to stand still for the body scan. Seriously? The humming began, and Aurelia stood as still as she could. Just let it be over. And let her get off this stupid, damn shuttle. What a time for an attack drill.
“Scan aborted,” the automated voice said.
“What?” Aurelia almost screamed. “What now?”
She keyed her number into the console again, but nothing happened.
“Assume the safety position,” said the voice.
For a drill? was the last thought that went through Aurelia's mind. Then the shuttle began to shudder with the force of several simultaneous explosions, and she had no more thoughts.
Chapter Four
She crouched and clutched her head, exactly as the safety instruction videos had shown her to do. A red warning light flashed around the elevator cabin, and emergency sirens began blaring. Aurelia could feel the shudder of something hitting the ship, and then she felt pressure as the shuttle righted itself from the blow. Suddenly there was a jolt, and the elevator dropped. She clung to the metal railing, her stomach dropping faster than the cabin. She was convinced that the lift was about to crash into the floor, and she had a vision of the elevator rushing through the shuttle and smashing through the bottom of the ship itself. She closed her eyes tightly but then felt a rush of cool air on her face.
The elevator had stopped at the next floor, the doors sliding open. It obviously had some kind of safety precaution. Aurelia found herself crawling on her hands and knees over the threshold of the elevator, her head spinning. Another explosion rocked the ship, and she felt the air pressure change. Her ears popped, hard. She lay on the soft blue carpet of the floor, her arms tight around herself, not knowing what to do and not caring anymore. If she was going to die like this she would do it here, alone, the tufts of the carpet pressing into the side of her face.
The alarms continued ringing.
“Security Workers to deck 31,” an announcement shouted, then repeated itself three times over the wail of the alarms.
Aurelia kept still. She could hear the sounds of people moving, of screaming, but far away, not here on her deck. Again the shuttle shook.
“Med personnel report to deck stewards,” yelled the announcement.
Something stirred in Aurelia's mind. She screwed her eyes tightly closed and breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth.
What did she know about death in space? She racked her brain, thinking back to all her training. Quiet - it was quiet, she knew that. Space was a vacuum; nothing could be heard. Not instantaneous, as many people believed. You could live for minutes out in space, even without any protection. Cold. Suffocation.
The thought of suffocating slowly in the cold vacuum as she screamed silently made Aurelia sick to her stomach.
“Med personnel report to deck stewards,” repeated the announcement.
Realising she was about to lose her first space shuttle meal, Aurelia quickly rolled over until she was on her hands and knees, her head hanging down. Her body trembled as she retched, and her eyes stung with tears.
When she was done, she crawled away from the stinking pile of vomit and sat, leaning against the wall of the column. The tech Worker had warned her that she might get space sick, she thought, and her lips curled a little; he probably hadn't meant like this, though. There had been no explosions or movements from the ship for some minutes. Aurelia wiped her face on her sleeve. What now?
“Med personnel report to deck stewards,” said the announcement for the third time.
It was only then, hearing the announcement again at the same time as she looked at the red slash on her sleeve, that Aurelia remembered. Gods, she was med personnel.
All panic fled from Aurelia, and her training kicked firmly in. Report to deck steward. Okay, that was step one. She stood, shakily. The deck she was on had grown strangely silent, and she realised that the emergency sirens had stopped blaring out. Looking around, Aurelia contemplated taking the elevator again, then shook her head. Not safe enough. There had to be emergency stairs around here somewhere; she remembered her steward mentioning them.
Quickly, she checked all the doors in the central column. Nothing. Wait, stop, think. Medicine had taught her that it was better to act slowly with knowledge than to act quickly without it. If you didn't know what to do, then take the precious seconds to consider the options. She closed her eyes; there was something niggling in the corner of her mind. Right, got it.
She opened the door to the steward's cabin again and saw what had failed to capture her full attention the last time: a rounded alcove on the
wall. Touching the line where two panels met in the middle of the alcove, she felt a depression, and then the door slid open, revealing a long, dark stairwell.
Now she needed light. She had no idea which deck she was on. She thought for a moment. If you don't understand a situation, try to think of something it reminds you of. Another solid medical rule. What was this like? She rubbed her tongue across the front of her teeth, thinking. Yes, fire drill. That's exactly what this was like. All schools had fire drills, and Aurelia's was no exception. And what did they do during fire drills?
Ha! It was so simple. Aurelia stepped into the stairwell and closed the door. As soon as it was shut, a soft orange emergency lamp glowed into life. The door closed the circuit for the light. Easy. She looked at the door and saw that the number 91 was engraved on it. Deck 91, presumably. Her deck was 27, so she had 64 flights of stairs to go. Well, at least they were going down.
She took a deep breath and started walking. For a moment she considered what she might be up against, what she might see, how many people would be injured. Then she shook her head. Thinking too far ahead in the process would make her panic again. Best to concentrate on the job at hand.
Aurelia quickened her pace, jogging now. Obviously whatever had happened had now stopped, since she felt no more movement from the shuttle and heard no explosions. By floor 60 she had worked up a sweat and was breathing more heavily. But still she went on.
She met no one in the stairwell, though occasionally she heard footsteps running on other floors. The orange light was dim, and she kept her attention on the edges of the stair treads.
Deck 40. She paused to catch her breath. Then continued.
Finally, she reached deck 27. Without taking time to think about what she might find inside, she clawed the door open, hurried out of the steward's cabin and almost banged into the steward himself. He was bleeding heavily from a cut on his forehead, and when he saw her he closed his eyes in thanks.
“Med star,” he said, thickly.
“Right here,” said Aurelia.
She took his arm and steered him back to his cabin before placing him on his seat.