by Gini Koch
CHAPTER 10
THANKFULLY, Jeff had a good hold on Charlie or he’d have gone flying through the air. As it was, the only reason the four of us didn’t go tumbling down was that Tim managed to grab the railing and none of us had let go of each other.
Banged up but not too badly, we managed to regroup. “Is the ship doing what I think it’s doing?” Jeff asked.
“If you mean flying, yes, I think it is,” Tim replied. “We need to get to the command deck pronto—I don’t know how the autopilot feature got activated, but that’s what I think happened.”
Looked at my snoozing son. “I think I have a really good idea for how autopilot got activated. But Tim’s right, let’s go.”
We couldn’t go quickly—some kind of g-force was still pressing down on us and it made using hyperspeed difficult. But superstrength was also a good thing, and Jeff was the superstrongest, so we managed, him doing most of the heavy lifting in terms of dragging me and Tim along.
The feeling of extra weight let up as we hit, per Tim, the halfway point. “Gravity sensors engaged,” the pleasant robotic female voice shared.
“That means we’re in space, doesn’t it?” I asked, merely for the joy of confirmation.
“Yep,” Tim said grimly. “It does.”
That acceleration wasn’t shoving us down meant hyperspeed was easy again, so we were able to zip off. The stairwells were, thankfully, laid out intelligently, so we reached the command deck, which was Deck Three, quickly. Realized that this ship reminded me a lot of the Dulce Science Center in New Mexico. Lots of levels, none of them made sense to me, more bells and whistles than you could shake a stick at, and even more blinking lights.
It also reminded me of Dulce in the fact that I was already confused about what was where within one short visit. Really hoped Drax had added a lot of “You Are Here” signs to the ship, because otherwise I was going to be lost within seconds if I was left alone to wander.
But Tim knew where we were headed and we arrived to find no one there, as expected. “Autopilot’s definitely engaged,” Tim said, as he ran to one of the control stations. As with the helicarrier, Drax had designed this ship to have a modest crew, but it still needed six people at the various controls. “I can’t make out what the coordinates are, though.”
“Well, get it stopped and turned around,” Jeff said, looking out the windshield. “Because I’m looking at the moon in close-up.”
“Good, that means warp isn’t engaged yet,” Tim said. “I need at least another person at the controls and two would be better. Frankly, the rest of Airborne here with Chee and Brian would be best, but we’ll deal with what we’ve got.”
“Thanks for that.”
“Any time, Kitty. Go to Station Two. Jeff, go to Station Six—that’s the one set up for A-Cs. Both of you buckle in and Jeff, be prepared to have to really hang onto Charlie.”
We did as ordered—in emergency situations, we’d all learned that whoever knew the most was who was in charge. Jeff nestled Charlie into his chest as he strapped them both into the seat together. “How much turbulence do you think we’re going to hit?” he asked Tim worriedly as he put the flight helmet that was attached into the main controls onto his head.
“No idea. We didn’t train for this, honestly.” Tim’s helmet was on. “Kitty, hurry up. You’ve got Communications as well as some internal controls. That means you can talk to those inside the ship as well as connect externally. Jeff, you’ve got Weapons, just in case.”
“In case of what?” Jeff asked while I buckled my purse in as if it was Charlie and put on my helmet. There was no way I was risking losing my purse and its contents right now. Chose not to contemplate how my hair was going to look later—we were in the middle of something potentially dangerous and I still had no idea where Jamie and Lizzie were. My hair would just look like it always did during times like these—like I had a dead weasel or a drowned cat on my head.
Speaking of weasels, had no idea where Algar and the least weasels had gotten to. Would have made a mental note that this would be a good name for a band but I was too busy.
“In case this wasn’t autopilot but is an attack,” I answered for Tim. “And I think you should have given Weapons to me.”
“Whine later. Get the ship talking to you now. I’m in the position Chee was supposed to fill and I have close to no idea of what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“I thought that triple the necessary crew had been assigned to this mission to ensure that we had redundancies in case of emergencies,” Jeff said. “And that each member knew at least two of the roles.”
“Right you are,” Tim said cheerfully. “Guess what I’m trained for? Communications and Weapons, which is why I put you and Kitty there, because I can at least talk you through those roles. I was not ever supposed to be the one at the main controls.”
“Jeff, stop complaining and just do what we do best, which is handle crap like this. The faster we get the ship under control, the faster we find Jamie and Lizzie.”
Jeff grunted, but stopped complaining. Knew he was as worried about the girls’ whereabouts as I was. Lizzie was with Christopher, but that didn’t make either one of them safe. Sure, Charlie had been dreaming that they were likely with the other kids, but that didn’t mean his dream was accurate. And we had no idea who was actually on board or not. Which was, per Tim, now my job.
Thankfully, despite the array of meaningless buttons and levers in front of me, Drax’s ships were made to connect the personnel with the ship’s computer mentally or electronically or some such. So, with my helmet on, I was linked in and, therefore, some of what I needed to know was given to me by the ship itself. Closed my eyes for a moment and let the ship share what I was supposedly looking at. Opened my eyes and hit the ship’s intercom button.
“Everyone who can hear this, we have no idea who’s on board and who is not, but yes, to confirm what you’re thinking, we’re in space somehow. If anyone who trained to fly this puppy is able to get to the command deck, please do so ASAP. If you are not trained to fly this ship and you are secured, please stay there. If you’re not safe, get to safety. Um, if you can.”
Realized I had no way of telling who was where, and we’d had a lot of people in the Engineering and Weapons sections, which might mean they’d been baked alive or something.
Heard the sound of running feet. But the person who arrived wasn’t who I was expecting.
“Tito?” Jeff asked, sounding as surprised as I felt. “What are you doing here?”
“Rahmi, Rhee, and I came on board to help find Amy’s children,” he said as he stopped running.
“Where are the princesses?”
“No idea, Kitty. We separated to cover more ground. I was lucky enough to be in the main medical quarters, which are just below the command deck, when we started lifting off, so I strapped in. What do you need me to do?”
Tim tossed Tito into Station Three, which was now the blind leading the blind for that position. The men were all trying to be cool and not snap at each other, with limited success, and my stress started to go into overdrive. My worry about Jamie, Lizzie, and everyone else was already there. Meaning I was having a lot of trouble focusing.
Really wanted to hear music. As if on command, “Ready to Go” by Guards came on my airwaves. “Um, does anyone else hear that?”
“Yes,” Tim said. “You asked for music, didn’t you?”
“In my mind, not out loud.”
“The ship’s made to link with us electronically,” Tim pointed out.
“Then why don’t I know where my daughter and our ward are?” Jeff asked, sarcasm knob at nine and threatening to go higher fast. “Because I’ve been asking that mentally for as long as this has been going on.”
“No idea. Maybe Kitty’s request is easier to fulfill. We didn’t cover a soundtrack in training.”
“But music is a form of communications, and searching for kids isn’t a part of Weapons, so maybe that’s why it’s working for me and not for Jeff. Anyway, let’s take it and roll with it. Barring the tunes causing the rest of you to lose focus, it helps me a ton.” Had no idea who’d added music to the ship, but had a feeling he was on board somewhere, petting a bunch of least weasels.
“Still can’t get autopilot to disengage,” Tim said tightly.
Found the external communications button and hit it. Had no idea who I was calling, just hoped they’d be helpful. “White House Communications,” a familiar voice said.
“Walter! Boy, am I glad it’s you!”
“Chief First Lady, what’s going on? News reports are jumbled, but it appears that the Distant Voyager has taken to the air.”
“To the space, Walt. We’re in space right now, so I have no idea how long I’ll get to talk to you. I need the Vice President or the Secretary of State.”
“Ah . . .”
“That doesn’t sound like a good ‘ah,’ Walt. What’s going on? Christopher said that he got politicians off the ship.”
“He did, but none of the President’s Cabinet were among them.”
Right, Christopher had already told us that. Silly of me to hope that he’d been wrong. Let myself think, but only for a moment, because I had no idea how soon I’d run out of communications time. “Am I right in thinking that, as far as we all know, the entire United States’ governing body is inside a spaceship that took flight of its own accord?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Well, here’s another fine mess we’ve somehow gotten ourselves into.”
CHAPTER 11
“WELL, ALL BUT ONE,” Walter amended. “Secretary Kramer is onsite.”
“Wow. Okay, it’s Designated Survivor the Reality Show for us, then. Can you stay on the line but connect me to Marcia?”
“Yes.” There was a soft buzzing sound. “You’re on with the First Lady, Secretary Kramer.”
“Kitty, are you guys okay?” Marcia sounded freaked out, not that I could blame her.
“As far as we know, yes. Autopilot engaged without anyone’s influence as far as we know.” Well, that wasn’t a lie—we didn’t know for sure that Charlie had somehow activated it, after all. “So far we aren’t in any danger, but we can’t determine where the ship thinks it’s going yet, nor have we been able to stop it.”
“Got it. The Head of the P.T.C.U. is on her way to the White House, as are the Joint Chiefs. They’re coming via conventional means so that they’re seen.”
“Probably all in the same car but at least they’re on land. And I think the ‘we’re here’ plan is a good one. No matter what, Marcia, hold the line. Don’t let anyone bully you into doing something stupid.”
“You mean like war with the aliens because the spaceship’s stolen our homegrown alien President and all of his Cabinet?”
“Um, yeah, like that. Seriously, I think we’ve been spaceborne for less than ten minutes or something. Is that the buzz going around already?”
“Yes, from the YatesCorp-owned stations. Being picked up by all other outlets, naturally. The press positive to us are in the ship with you and I can’t tell if they’re still broadcasting.”
“Fabulous. What did you guys get before they all went off the air? And where are you seeing this?”
“What we got was people freaking out because the ship flung them down and around, mostly, with no sign of you or Jeff. And I’m in the Original Situation Room and I’m very alone right now. But I’m able to watch every news channel worldwide at once, and they’re all saying the same things, none of them positive.”
“Wow, you’re not in the Large Situation Room?”
“It’s literally just me in here, Kitty. At least until your mother and uncle and the others arrive, and even then we’re not going to need the LSR. However, I’m also the Acting President. I’m going to have to go on TV sooner rather than later, Kitty. What do you want me to say?”
“That we’ll handle it and that there will be no war with anyone over this, especially not the aliens who have relocated to the Solaris system or anyone who came here seeking asylum. We expect to be back sooner as opposed to later.”
“I need to talk to Jeff. This needs to be a Presidential order. I mean, I agree with you, but still, I’m going to need to be able to say I spoke with Jeff and that he was fine and all those things.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll handle it, Kitty, I promise. But I know that I have to be able to not be lying in any way.”
“I know you can do it, Marcia. Hang on and I’ll get him on the line.” The music changed to Eric Clapton’s “Running on Faith,” which I figured we all were.
Had no idea how to link Jeff in. Shared mentally that I really wanted to link Jeff into this call. “Hello?” he said. “Kitty, did you just pull me into your call?”
“It worked, so yes, yes I did. Marcia needs to hear the plan directly from the top horse’s mouth.”
“Huh?”
“Just tell her what she needs to do, Jeff.”
Jeff repeated what I’d said, Marcia asked some questions, they confirmed more things, and my mother and Uncle Mort arrived and also got to confirm things with Jeff. Recordings were being made so that there was proof that the President was alive and all that jazz. Noted that the music muted as soon as Jeff and Marcia started talking. Good for the recordings, not great for me—I was still stressed.
Listened to all the governmental goings-on with half an ear. The other one and a half ears were trying to focus on figuring out who was on the ship and where they were. Was pretty sure we had a lot more people than any of us would have thought on board, meaning we had to find a lot of people who might not be known to be on board. I’d have never guessed that Tito, Rahmi, or Rhee would be here, for example. So I had to find who was where, and I had to find everyone fast. And finding personnel seemed like it should be a Communications function.
There had to be a way for the ship to determine who was where—Drax’s tech was excellent, and that was a feature I was pretty certain he’d put into this ship.
Drax himself was, hopefully, on board. But no one other than Tito had come to the command deck. That could mean they were still working their way up, because they might not trust the elevators right now—I wouldn’t, and most of the people I’d expect to be here were humans. However, it might mean that everyone else was hurt or trapped or worse.
Focused on seeing where everyone was. Nada. Tried to get the ship to talk to me. Less than nada. Tried not to worry. Again, failed utterly.
Figured out how to disconnect from Jeff’s call, however, while still keeping communications between him and Earth going. Scored that one firmly in the win column.
The music came back on, this time playing “Mothers Talk” by Tears for Fears. Contemplated what this meant, since I was sure Algar was at the musical controls somehow.
Said what I’d say to another mother. “My children are lost in the ship.”
“I guard all personnel,” the robotic voice replied to me. “All are my children. And none are lost.”
“Um, Kitty,” Tim whispered, “do you think we’ve scored a self-aware AI somehow?”
“I put nothing past Drax, or anyone or anything else, really. Um, are you self-aware, Ship?”
“That is not my name,” the robotic voice replied.
“Distant Voyager?” I tried.
“That is the name of the ship. I am not the ship. I control the ship but I am not it.”
“What’s your name, then?”
“It is not ‘ship’ nor ‘Distant Voyager.’” She sounded annoyed.
Which might mean we were supposed to keep on guessing. Or it could mean that she wanted a name but didn’t have one yet and didn’t want to ask for one either, possibly out of fear, embarrassment, or programming.
Whether she was self-aware or not, though, naming was a big deal. However, as I’d told Ixtha in my dream, I was Shealla the Giver of Names. Took a wild one. “Would you like to be called Mother?”
No response for a few moments. Tito and Tim were both giving me WTH looks. Shrugged. In times like this, the only thing that ever consistently worked was going with the crazy, and that’s what I’d done.
“I find that acceptable,” the robotic voice finally replied. “You may call me Mother.” Tim and Tito both relaxed. Nice to know they had no faith in me. Or possibly it was the situation. Had no bet either way.
“Great. Mother, I realize that you’re aware where everyone is within the ship, but I’m not the person who was trained on how to interface properly with you, so I can’t tell where anyone is, other than the few in this area with me. Some could be hurt, and some could be trapped, and my daughter and my ward are among those that could be hurt or trapped. Is there a way for you to tell me or show me who is where in the ship?”
“Yes.”
Waited. That appeared to be it. “Um, will you show me who is where in the ship?”
“No, I will not.”
CHAPTER 12
LET THAT SIT ON the air for more than a couple of seconds while we all looked at each other with shocked and worried expressions. Jeff was done with his call and so had given this his full attention, too.
“Um, why not?” I asked finally.
“I am not capable of moving about the ship in the manner needed to show you anything,” Mother replied, nicely, all things considered.
What was going on dawned on me. “Oh, my God. Semantics. He programmed in semantics? Where is Drax? So I can hurt him.”
“Gustav Drax is in Engineering,” Mother said. “I can tell you where everyone is, but I cannot show you.”
“Got it. I’d asked an ‘or’ question, which is why you said yes to it, and then I requested the thing you couldn’t do so you said no.”
“Correct.”