A World Too Far (Terran Trilogy Book 1)

by Sheron Wood McCartha

  His eyes darkened as he felt his back. A groan of pain issued from his mouth and his hand came away bloody. Troubled eyes met hers.

  “It’s an order.” She raised her eyebrows at him.

  He nodded, accepting the reality.

  Mika yanked out a weapon as a dark form turned a corner up ahead and hurtled toward them. A flash of fingers signaled them.

  “It’s Trajan,” Kane grunted.

  Joining them, her former guard with a tea-colored face and chiseled cheeks grabbed Kane’s arm to steady him. “Captain Fujeint,” he acknowledged her with a brisk nod. “Captain’s quarters are straight ahead. I’ve deployed a team to question David Jackson and examine the area where you were hit. We may find something, but most likely the attackers are gone.” His voice came out a deep rich baritone that inspired confidence and calm.

  Soon, they arrived at her quarters. After the girl made an electronic sweep for bugs or traps, Elise entered.

  Kane began to shiver and sweat.

  She regarded her wounded guard. “Trajan, take him to the medical unit and report back here afterward. Mika can guard me. We’ll lock the door.”

  Trajan nodded, and the two men departed.

  At the realization that someone had tried to kill her, nausea and dizziness overwhelmed her. She staggered woodenly to her bed and flopped down. Immediately, her body began to shake. She grabbed the edge of the bed to steady herself.

  Mika pulled up a chair. Sitting down, facing the entrance, the dark-haired guard brought out a phaser and proceeded to polish it. Straightening her back, she leaned toward Elise. “Take a breath and rest a bit while I sit guard. Trajan should return soon.”

  Elise closed her eyes and felt the pounding of her pulse abate. She took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves and mentally ran through her formerly planned visits, revising her schedule.

  ***

  The tall angular woman sat in front of Elise, twisting her hands in her lap. She appeared almost starvation thin. Sharp cheekbones, long narrow nose, and short spiky blond hair arranged themselves to form a sharp careworn face.

  Suddenly aware of her own stiff expression, Elise attempted to smile and relax her body. She gazed over at Trajan who stood rigid and alert at the entrance.

  “As Director of Human Resources for E section,” Elise quickly reviewed her notes, “Elizabeth Patterson,” she gathered breath, “I wanted to meet with you and get an understanding of the state of your area and its people.”

  “You mean the colonists?” The woman canted her head and briefly brought to mind a wild crane. “They call themselves colonists.”

  “Yes, crew and colonists. Doesn’t everyone out of cryo have a job? Isn’t that crew? All others were put asleep.”

  “Used to be like that but we’re in dire straights, we are.” The woman’s mouth pursed. “The young’uns especially.”

  “The children?”

  “More the young adults who were bred-up to establish the new world. Only…” The woman gazed away.

  Elise sighed. “Only, the new world didn’t work out, and now we have too many young adults with no jobs, short resources, and failing elders who won’t give up their position.”

  “Cryo is stuffed. The problems are getting worse, and your lot don’t have a clue as to where we are in this vast universe. It’s just dark matter and dark energy out there with pinpricks of stars too far off.”

  Elise scowled, a bit miffed. “More than that is out there. I have competent astrophysicists assessing the situation… but you’re right, the situation isn’t good. Will you help me?”

  The woman jerked upright. “You want my help? Get rid of that administration who thinks they’re gods almighty.”

  “What are they doing wrong?”

  Elizabeth clutched her arms with each hand, anger breaking through her anguish. “They believe they run the ship. Frank Stoddard and his cronies are cutting jobs in the low levels. They squeeze out the old’ens and those who are sickly. They stir up the young studs and get them to bash on those too slow for their taste. They work the men and women hard but compensate with little. Most who work have families to feed but don’t get enough to sustain even themselves. Trouble is brewing, but who’s getting hurt are the men with families, and if no one works, that family starves.”

  Elise shifted in her chair and leaned forward, hands clasped in her lap. “When I talked to the farm manager, he said they didn’t have enough crops to feed everyone. He’s also worried about the water supply running low.”

  “Certain people appear to be getting fed well enough.” Elizabeth smiled a tight smile. “Those who sit at desks punching buttons must work harder than it looks for the food and trinkets they receive. They’re the ones that dance to Frank Stoddard’s tune over in Admin.”

  Elise didn’t like the sound of that. “I’ll look into it. I’ll need you to send me a report on the problems with suggestions on how to fix them.”

  “Just shoot that Frank no good…”

  “I meant reasonable suggestions.”

  Elizabeth’s nose wrinkled. “I did that, and it made no difference.”

  “I promise I’ll try to fix it.”

  The face smiled. “You just do that, young captain… but,” she slanted her head. “Protect yerself as you go about. Thems that are desperate do unlawful deeds.”

  “I need to discover who is behind the violence. Get word to me if you find out anything.”

  “That would be my death sentence surely.”

  A young girl slid open a panel. “Elizabeth, they’re calling for you to attend the meeting.”

  Elizabeth put up a bony hand. “Abide a moment, girl. I’m coming.” She creaked to a stand as Elise rose, and put out her frail hand. “I wish you luck, Captain.”

  Elise left, wiser but more worried. She hoped her other visits would go better. But they didn’t.

  Chapter 7

  A New Regime

  Elise scanned the crowd from her perch that overlooked the open shuttle bay. She noted that they appeared gaunt and hollow-eyed. Hungry. A lot wore angry expressions. Too many wore a listless, hopeless look. She had selected the largest open space on board with a balcony where she could speak face to face with most of the ship’s inhabitants and explain what they needed to do to survive. But this gathering daunted her. She ran a hand through her short auburn hair, nervous about her first public address.

  On her left stood Mika, straight-backed and intent. Her dark hair formed a shiny helmet under the lights. The tall firm-bodied guard had all her attention focused on the restless crowd. Next to her, Elise felt small and helpless.

  To her right, a frowning John Luttrell shifted nervously from foot to foot, eager to be done with the show. However, he had assured her that he was ready to back her up if questions of a medical nature developed.

  At his right, a somewhat recovered Kane stared straight ahead, disregarding the bandages that swathed his broad, muscular back. She knew he wanted to show he was ready to prove his worth in spite of his wounds.

  Directly behind her, the heavy, dark bulk of Trajan guarded her back, offering solid protection.

  David Jackson with three from his group stood on the other side of Mika. His frowning face nervously scanned the restless crowd.

  Keep your friends close, your enemies closer … but not as close as your guards. Elise smiled a tight smile at the thought.

  Chay T’Sang had gathered audio experts to cobble together a series of speakers so that everyone could hear her. Approximately two five hundred bodies wedged themselves in among shuttlecrafts and storage bins. The crowd mumbled, coughed, and muttered as they wondered what she would say. Evidently, rumors had run rampant all over the ship. A few children whined fitfully and, at least, two babies cried. Latecomers pushed in, causing grumbles and complaints. Feet shuffled restlessly.

  A hasty meeting of captains via teleconference had argued long past fifth shift over the problem of the fleet’s limited resources. Eventually, the majority
agreed that birth control shots and patches should be more rigorously dispensed and, if that proved ineffective, sterilization might be better than execution or slow starvation. They drew up a program to increase crop cultivation. Now hopefully, the fleet would all stick together in the implementation of the plan.

  “Fellow travelers on the New Found Hope,” she began.

  The rustling and murmuring stilled.

  “I’m Elise Fujeint, your new captain. Unfortunately, your former captain died in a riot instigated by a group who call themselves ‘the Lost Ones Standing Together.’ The LOST, as they style themselves, believe that the answer to limited resources is to target selected people and eliminate them. This vigilante action has spread fear and terror throughout the ships. If continued, people will quit working; crops will lay rotting …” She raised her voice to emphasize the point. “And we will all eventually die. We cannot follow that strategy. Please do not encourage such actions.”

  Murmurs throughout the crowd greeted this announcement.

  Undaunted, Elise continued, “Across the fleet, all captains have agreed on a plan to balance people and resources. We will provide birth control patches or shots along with medical supervision. If that doesn’t work, voluntary sterilization may be required. Those living in F section will be relocated as that area will be reconfigured into more space for an extensive hydroponics farm, in addition to an area to be determined on the starboard side in order to balance the change in weight distribution. I ask for your cooperation while we make this transition.”

  Angry shouting erupted at the back, and then some along the sides joined in. People began pushing and jostling. A laser beam shot out and someone screamed. Two or three bodies dropped to the floor. People knotted up next to the slain. Fighting broke out in clusters while others stampeded for the exits.

  “I thought your people scanned for weapons,” she bit out, glaring at Trajan.

  “We did.” She could feel the hot gust of his breath on the back of her neck. He motioned two guards to guard her and flicked hand signals to several of his men in the crowd. Tapping Mika on the shoulder, he left to bring a swelling riot under control.

  “Stop!” she yelled. “Stop!” A few paused but most disregarded her words as the violence escalated. More guards appeared below and the crowd thinned out. Several bodies lay on the floor, trampled in the aftermath. A few more lasers flashed, several pointed upward at her. She felt the heat of one as it passed too close for comfort. When the guards closed in on them, the attackers disappeared into the stampeding mob.

  “Well, that’s fewer mouths to feed,” David Jackson muttered, staring down at the bodies. “Well done, Captain.” He turned to go, his people following him out.

  Chapter 8

  Airborne

  She sat at her desk, yanking on her hair. It hadn’t gone well. It hadn’t gone well at all. She wanted to rid herself of that trouble maker, David Jackson. However, she wasn’t making things better, just worse. She found herself caught between the moral issue of allowing more life and the necessity of survival for the ship.

  She looked up, suddenly aware of Trajan’s speculative gaze on her. As soon as he saw her notice, he looked away.

  “What? Speak your mind.”

  His head swiveled back around, and he bared his teeth. “Give me a handful of men, and I’ll find out who’s behind the violence.”

  Her hand slammed down. “David Jackson. I want to space that troublemaker.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t be so sure. I think he’s being used.”

  “Used?” She swiveled her chair to face him.

  He nodded. His brow lowered, giving him a perplexed expression. “David wasn’t behind this last trouble. I put heavy surveillance on him. He claims he is curious to see what you might do. He claims to have hope for you.” He put his hands behind his back and paused. After a moment of thought, he said, “Someone is pulling strings, planting rumors, and stirring up fear.”

  “Only a handful?”

  “Don’t want to attract attention.”

  “If I let you pick your own people, I expect you to still stand as my guard.”

  “May have to go out from time to time. I’d put Kane in my place, though. You’d be well protected.”

  “Who’ll protect him and his seared back?”

  “Being in the line of fire is his job. He knows that. Besides, he heals fast.”

  “Okay. Pick your people and let me know.”

  “Better you don’t”

  She leaned forward in her chair. “I like to be informed.”

  “As you command.”

  “The minute you find out anything…”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  ***

  She went on several visits to engineering, the kitchen, the farm, operations, and a meeting with insufferable administrators who didn’t offer any help other than putting a face to names and letting her show hers.

  At the lab, John introduced her to his staff who greeted her stiffly and looked adoringly at him. She pushed the scene from her mind as a distraction. John had suggested she dump a hormone in the water that would turn off egg production in women and sperm production in men. She hesitated at ordering so final an act without cooperation from all the ships.

  At least, no one attacked her on the way to the lab, although several of his female lab assistants looked as if they might try it before she left.

  Now returned to her stateroom, she studied reports to decide her next course of action when she noticed that the air felt funny. Strands of hair tickled her neck and ears. Finding the sensation annoying, she rubbed her hands over her head. Startled, she watched her coffee mug rise up off her desk. Globules of coffee erupted out into the air. All around her, objects began to drift upwards.

  What the hell’s happening?

  Bewildered, she scanned the room while any objects not locked down lifted and floated.

  Oh nuts, the graviton must be malfunctioning.

  Her body lifted from the chair. She reached for something to hold onto as she found herself swimming in air.

  The entrance panel slammed open and Trajan marched in. “We’ve lost gravity!” He stomped magnetic boots across the floor and scooped up her mug, grabbing and securing loose objects.

  Her comm unit wafted past her nose. She snatched it out of the air and attached it to her ear as one hand held onto her desk. “Engineering. What’s going on?” she demanded.

  Shouts and the sound of groaning machinery greeted her inquiry. Finally, a voice answered, “Got a spot of trouble here, Captain.”

  “Do you need security there, or is it mechanical?”

  “Could be sabotage. Let’s hope it’s only a part that’s broken down. Don’t know. Jimbo’s checking. But we don’t need security. Whoever did this is long gone.”

  Jimbo. A muscular man from engineering with a dark face and a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his cheek flashed across her memory. Delicate hands, though.

  “He’s called in the systems people to figure out what went wrong. We’re trying to anchor down any equipment that’s loose. Bit busy here, Captain.”

  Crashes and shouts from the background accompanied the announcement.

  She needed to let the man do his job. “I’ll put out an alert to remind everyone to be ready when gravity returns. I’ll send help.”

  “Some help would be appreciated, but too many extra bodies right now might crowd the space.” He gave a grunt as something metal crashed nearby. “We’ll get ‘er fixed, but only if I can get back to work.”

  She took the hint. “Give me an update when you can.”

  “Copy that.”

  Stuffing a floating pillow into a cabinet, Trajan turned to her. “I’ll send Kane and Mika to help engineering secure any loose machinery. In addition, they can snoop around some.”

  “Do so. I’ll give an all ship call out to remind everyone about gravity loss protocol.”

  As the gravity shifted, she tried to keep her v
oice steady while her head filled with fluids, her stomach roiled, and her vision hazed. She pressed the communications switch on her desk and gathered her thoughts.

  Inhaling, she set herself and began. “All stations, this is your Captain. An amber alert is in progress. The graviton has temporarily malfunctioned. Everyone remain calm. Secure all loose objects and follow the gravity loss protocol found on any monitor. We are working on the problem and expect to fix it soon. Prepare for a return to gravity per my announcement. Floating objects can land heavily after gravity returns, so be aware. I’ll inform you as soon as I have updates.” Her hands floated about, feeling lightweight and strange while the ship strobed with yellow lights, causing her to feel disoriented and dizzy. She had to get to the bridge to take command.

  A few wobbly steps bounced her out into the corridor. Trajan put out a hand to steady her as she took a breath and grabbed a handhold. Together they propelled their bodies toward the bridge to try and tackle this new challenge.

  ***

  “Captain on the bridge.”

  Chaos greeted her. The bridge swarmed with flying objects. Jensen Dane was snatching at an elusive electronic tablet while Jazz Espirito gripped the comm and communicated with critical stations throughout the ship, trying to gather data on the ship’s status and calm everyone down.

  Seeing her at the entrance, Tango whirled around but kept on twisting as he fought the unfamiliar motion of momentum without gravity. “Aargh!” His cry spiraled out as he continued to twirl in front of her.

  Behind her in the corridor, Joss Wylie careened from one wall to another while he frantically zig-zagged his way to the bridge. She could hear him yelling, “Damn,” then “shit” as he crashed from one wall to the other, struggling to control his path.

  Further down, she could hear Tate Chattam’s voice in a high-pitched conversation. Without gravity to orient her, the walls began to shift as up became down, confusing her sense of direction. She grabbed the edge of the entrance panel and forced her brain to make sense of the turmoil.