by S.A. Bodeen
They took the same route back. He paused at the hall of torpor chambers and jabbed a thumb at the door. “We need to change. There should be extra clothes in here, it’s a lot closer than running up to the private cabins.”
Kiva kept walking. “I just want to go to my cabin.”
Seth took her arm. “We’re leaving our wet clothes here. I’m not taking any chances with what … might have been in that water.”
She frowned. “Do you think he was sick? Did they tie him up and throw him in there because he was contagious?” What if she had caught whatever it was, what if it was too late and—
“I don’t think so. But dead bodies aren’t exactly clean. We need to be cautious.”
Kiva took a deep breath and followed Seth inside the hall of torpor chambers. She rubbed her hands together to try to get them to stop trembling.
“There must be some clothes in here.” Seth walked farther into the massive space. “Be right back.”
Kiva was too far away to see the contents of the chamber nearest her, but didn’t want to stand there, cowering at the fate that belonged to these people, the same that befell her for the better part of her childhood. She gazed fully at the case before her.
The woman inside was a little shorter than she was, and naked but for strips of cloth wrapped across her chest and hip area. Kiva’s face grew warm as she wondered if she’d been afforded that same scant amount of modesty all those years.
“Got lucky.” Seth handed Kiva a stack of folded clothes and pointed at a chamber a few feet away. “You can go change behind there.”
Eager to be rid of her wet clothes and anything that may have brushed up against the corpse, she found her hiding spot and quickly stripped, yanking the pants down over the boots. This place made her nervous and she didn’t like being alone. The underthings were a little big, but they’d do for the moment. “So how do these things work? The chambers?”
From the sound of his voice, Seth wasn’t very far away. “Each has a small control panel up at the top that basically monitors their vital signs. You can tell with a glance if everything is okay or not.”
Kiva sat down. Getting the clean, dry pants on over the boots took some muscle, but she managed. When she was in the new clothes, she ran her fingers through her damp hair, trying to get out some tangles as best she could. Then she stepped back out.
Seth stood a few feet away, also in dry clothes. His wet hair hung loose to his shoulders.
She asked, “How can you tell with a glance that everything is fine?”
He pointed at a small screen at the top of the case, and a button beside it. “You push that and it flashes green.”
“They only flash green?”
“No. Also yellow.”
“What’s yellow mean?” she asked.
“There’s a problem.” Seth added, “And if it’s red…”
Kiva frowned. “Worse problem?”
“Much. Red is … dead.”
Kiva shivered. “So that’s why they don’t need that many people to watch over the people in torpor.”
“Yeah. Once you’re used to it, you can check about ten, fifteen people in a couple of minutes.” Seth knocked on the front of the case. “Pretty efficient.”
Kiva stared. The woman appeared to be asleep, a look of peace on her face. “Is she in virtual reality?”
“I don’t think anyone else besides my mom came up with the program. And since their Versa Space is the orchard and the”—he seemed about to say lake, but instead simply added—“my guess is no.”
Kiva stepped closer, then her gaze went down the row. “How many people are in this place?”
Seth went a few yards down the aisle. “I’d say at least four hundred. Maybe more. Definitely not all.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
Kiva brushed past him and meandered a bit more. She passed dozens of the cases, dozens of faces, all like the woman. Sleeping. Peaceful.
She scrunched her eyes shut and imagined herself in torpor, next to Ada and Rem and Rom in their own cases.
How could Seth have seen them, day after day, and not wanted to let them out?
She opened her eyes. “How hard is it to bring someone out of it?”
“Easy, actually. You just have to choose the awakening protocol on the panel and—” Seth came closer. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you.”
She glared at him. “I meant me. How hard was it?”
He looked away. “I wasn’t there.”
“But was it? I mean, it must have been difficult, right? Otherwise, it seems to me that you might have tried.”
He set a hand on his forehead and shut his eyes. “Gods, we have to go, Kiva. Don’t start this—”
“Start what?” Kiva set her hands on her hips. “You tell me how easy it is to take care of all these people, how simple everything is, but you can’t manage to let me out?” She marched over to one of the cases and stared at the man inside, dark beard reaching nearly to his chest. “Should we see how hard it is to free this guy?”
Seth frowned. “It’s not funny.”
“What? I push the button, right?” She held her hand up.
“Kiva, don’t!”
Kiva pushed the button. The screen flashed red.
Her hand froze in midair.
Red meant …
Seth pushed her out of the way. “Wait over there.”
“What did I do?” Kiva gulped. “Seth, what did I do?”
He grabbed her arm. “Wait. Over. There.”
She backed off, heart pounding.
“Come on.” Seth tapped the panel. “It’s just a glitch.” He hammered on the panel with a fist. “Has to be.”
Kiva finally tore her gaze off the man’s face and turned around.
More faces.
She twirled in another direction.
More.
Dozens of faces within feet of her, no matter which way she turned.
Was this a ship of death? Was nobody alive?
She had to know, she had to know that they weren’t corpses floating in the glass. She had to know that they weren’t dead too.
The closest chamber was a foot away. Please be green. She tapped the panel.
Red.
She walked to the next. Green, please please please.
Tap.
Red.
The next.
Tap.
Red.
“No.”
The next and the next.
Tap tap.
Red, red.
“No. No.”
The next and the next and the next …
Tap tap tap …
Red red red …
“No. No. No.”
Red meant …
Dead.
She screamed.
“Kiva!” Seth was there, in her face. “Come on. Stop.”
“They’re dead!” She sobbed. “Everyone on this ship is dead!”
Seth crushed her face to his chest, his hold so tight she couldn’t move.
“They’re all dead.” Her words were muffled.
He cradled her head with one hand and murmured in her ear, “Keeves, it’s a mistake. They can’t be dead. Not all of them.”
“The boy is right.”
Seth released her and whirled around.
Kiva gasped at the thin man in thick, black-framed glasses who blocked their exit.
His clothing matched theirs, but his face was pale, and his hair jet-black with streaks of gray. “They’re not all dead.” Behind the glasses his dark eyes appeared to enlarge like a bug’s. “Just the ones I didn’t like very much.”
12
Kiva reached a trembling hand out for Seth.
He grabbed hold, shoved her behind him, and set his legs in a wide stance. With his shoulders raised and jaw lowered, he asked the man, “Who are you?”
“Stand down, son.” The man’s smile was yellowed and gap-toothed. “I’m kidding, kidding.” He pointed at the
red-screened chambers. “Those unfortunate souls are dead. But through their own actions.”
Kiva peered around Seth.
He hissed, “Stay back.”
“No need to be afraid, girlie.” The man held up both palms. “I surrender!” He cackled. “Tell your boyfriend here that he has nothing to worry about.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Kiva moved even with Seth.
He jutted out an elbow to keep her behind him, one hand an inch from his concealed knife.
“Welcome to the Pinatubo. I’m Felix Kubota, PhD.”
“I’m Seth Hawk.”
Kiva glanced up at Seth. She knew he had two names, but she’d never heard them spoken aloud before.
“Hawk.” The man tilted his head. “I knew a General Hawk when this project started.”
“He’s my father,” said Seth.
“You don’t say!” The man clapped his hands. “That makes you a descendant of one of the True.”
Seth frowned. “The True?”
“The people on the original manifest of the four ships. The ones meant to leave Earth, start a new civilization in space.” Kubota regarded Kiva. “And you are?”
Seth blurted out, “Kiva Maxwell.”
Her gaze slid sideways. Fai’s last name. Why?
“Maxwell…,” mused Kubota. “My favorite set of equations.”
“Mine too,” blurted Kiva.
The man’s gaze slid to her. “How convenient.”
Seth added, “Dr. Fai Maxwell is her mother, on the original manifest if you care to check.”
“Oh, no need, no need. I’ll take your word for it.” Kubota rubbed his hands together, as if eager. “So, not only do I have the pleasure of visitors, but they turn out to be True. This is indeed a good day.” He held a hand out to his side. “And now, if you care to follow me, I will prepare us a repast and we can get to know one another.” With a pronounced limp, the man left the room.
Kiva whispered to Seth, “Why did you tell him that’s my name?”
“Better that he thinks we’re both meant to be on the Krakatoa.”
“Why?”
His eyebrows slanted down. “Because he’s obviously on the side of the Manifesters. Better he thinks you’re meant to be here. So please, just go with it for now.”
“Fine.”
Seth headed toward the door.
Kiva shot a glance at the row of dead people and followed.
Kubota waited for them in the corridor. “You seem a bit damp.”
Seth said, “We wanted to see if it was like the Krakatoa. There was … rain in the Versa Space.”
“The rain is my doing,” said Kubota. “One of my personal projects on Earth was an artificial weather prototype for use in drought-ravaged areas. I was able to successfully implement it on a small scale in the Versa Space.” He raised his arms out to the side. “This place looks very familiar to you both, I assume?”
“Yes.” Seth poked Kiva’s side.
“Yes, for sure,” she said. “I feel very much at home.”
Kubota turned his back to them.
Seth scowled and raised his palms up at her.
She shrugged and followed their host.
Kubota barely moved faster than a crawl down the hallway. “Now what brings you out to my neck of the universe?”
Seth said, “We need to replace the HCU.”
Kubota stopped and faced him. “Young man, you are in luck.” He bowed to Kiva. “And young lady.” He straightened back up. “We will collect that before our refreshments.”
Kiva widened her eyes at Seth, who shrugged but had a hopeful look on his face. Maybe they wouldn’t have to go any farther, and could return home sooner than planned. Although Kiva realized that would mean abandoning the search for her father.
Seth said, “We had hoped one of the ships might have a spare HCU. But don’t you need to keep it?”
Kubota’s snail pace continued. “Do you know anything about the power systems on these ships?”
Kiva said, “One primary source, the RTG.”
Kubota stopped and faced them. “Yes. Do you know anything about the radioactive isotope?”
Seth said, “Basically, it’ll last forever?”
“It’ll last forever. You sound like my last supervisor.” Dr. Kubota shuffled forward again, taking a right at the T. “Let me tell you an old joke. The engineer says to whoever is paying for the job: How do you want it done? On time? On budget? Or correctly?” He held up two fingers. “Choose two.” He cackled.
Kiva and Seth looked at each other.
“I helped design the RTGs on these ships. Trask headhunted me from Google.” He stopped. “Big company? You’ve heard of it?”
They shook their heads.
“You should google it some time.” He cackled again and kept moving. “There were two approaches for power on these ships that we designed. Build many small systems that would, of course, be expected to not all be working at once. But they are easily repaired or replaced. Or, you go with one big system that can’t possibly fail.” He paused. “Until it does.”
A long, four-wheeled cart sat at the side of the hallway. He pointed. “Bring that, will you?”
Seth pushed. The wheels screeched.
“Oh my, I need some oil.” Kubota led the way another ten yards. “For the first time in my life as a physicist, my ideas aren’t being squashed for not being financially feasible. I’ve made a lot of headway on my antigravity propulsion and atmosphere reentry experiments.” He opened a door on the left. The room was full of boxes and bins and barrels, all labeled space venture. He pushed aside a few boxes. “Somewhere…” He pointed at a wooden crate. “There!”
Seth maneuvered the screeching cart as close as possible. The three of them managed to lift the heavy load onto the cart. Kiva wondered how they were going to carry it through the airlock.
They headed back the way they came, wheels announcing them the entire way. Kubota pointed at a door they’d passed before. “Now for some refreshments.”
Kiva entered the space, so large that close to a dozen long tables stretched down the length of it, plenty of space between each.
Kubota pointed to a small round table with four chairs at the side of the hall. “That’s become my lunch table. Wait there.”
Kiva sat down in a metal chair.
“Do you need any help, Dr. Kubota?” asked Seth.
“Please, call me Felix.” The man waved him off. “No, no. I’m happy to have someone to serve beside myself. And Cleo, of course.”
Seth and Kiva exchanged a glance. She asked, “Cleo?”
Kubota stopped. “I didn’t mention Cleo?”
Kiva shook her head.
“Well, wait here. I will go find her.” Kubota limped off.
Seth sat down. “I didn’t expect a big crew to be awake, but it makes no sense that he is the only one.”
“He’s not,” said Kiva. “There’s Cleo.”
“For all we know, she could be imaginary.” Seth leaned in closer to her. “We need to leave as soon as we can.”
She hoped he had a plan, because they weren’t exactly going to sneak out of there with the HCU.
“Here we are!” Kubota carried something black and furry in his arms. “Meet my stalwart companion.”
“A cat!” Kiva turned to Seth. “I knew there could be cats in space.”
Kubota smiled, apparently very pleased at her reaction. “A friend of felines, I can tell.” He set Cleo in Kiva’s arms.
Kiva stroked her sleek fur. “I have a cat.” Then she realized that she didn’t. Sasha had never existed. “I mean, I—”
Seth kicked her under the table.
She glared at him.
“What happened to your cat?” Kubota sat down.
“She died,” said Seth. “It was sad.”
The man nodded his head. “Yes, of course it was.”
Ignoring Seth, Kiva asked, “Where did Cleo come from?”
“One of the
original passengers brought a pair on board.” Kubota lowered his voice. “Not one of the True, believe me. The True knew better. They were aware of the protocols to be followed.” His voice returned to a normal level. “But who doesn’t like cats? Even I couldn’t bear them any ill will, despite the deception that accounted for their presence. Several batches of kittens were born over the years.” He rubbed the cat’s ears. “Cleo here is from the last. She’s over a decade old.”
“Ten years?” asked Kiva. “Is that old for a cat?”
“Not terribly.” The man’s focus seemed to drift. “I remember when my Casey was ten. Seems like yesterday.”
“You have children?” asked Seth.
Kubota snapped out of it. “Where was I? Oh yes. Snacks.” He got to his feet and shambled out a door at the side of the room.
Kiva continued to stroke Cleo. “I can’t believe I’m holding a real cat.”
“You need to tone it down,” said Seth.
“Seriously?” She stared at him. “Why wouldn’t I be excited about a cat?”
Seth lowered his voice. “Just be careful what you say. There are dead people in there.”
“He said it wasn’t because of him,” said Kiva.
Seth’s eyes narrowed. “And you believe him?”
“He’s giving us the part we need.” She shrugged. “That’s good enough for me.”
Seth said, “Kiva, did you forget? Your foot was caught on a dead man in the lake.”
Her skin crawled. “Of course not!”
Seth set a finger to his lips. “Please, just let’s be careful, okay? My dad will want to know what happened here, but Kubota seems to have an agenda.”
“That True stuff?” Kiva frowned. “Does it really matter who was meant to be on the ships and who ended up on them?”
Seth leaned closer to Kiva. “Clearly it does to him and the Manifesters. Don’t tell him or anyone else we may meet that your mom wasn’t on the original manifest.”
Kiva took a deep breath and concentrated on the warmth and steady purring that emanated from Cleo.
“Do you think Kubota feels strongly enough—”
“To act on it?” Seth shook his head. “I do not want to hang around long enough to find out. Whatever you do, steer away from talking about the dead people, okay?”
“No problem there.” Kiva preferred not to know the answers to any of the questions currently racing around her head.