Once the starter gun had fired, it was all Administrator Galina Korneyev could do to try and keep up with the teams from the Grania Estelle. The reactor problem was far more traumatic than it had been aboard the Grania Estelle which meant that the steps to deal with this needed to be far more dramatic. Tamara and Stella replicated a dozen new suits, specifically hardened against radiation. Quesh meanwhile was working with his team to synthesize more of the decontamination compound, while Ka’Xarian coordinated over the radio with the engineering teams from the Kara in trying to shut down the ship’s reactor. It took six hours of work, with the zheen on the comms trying to keep the panicking crew at their posts. Finally, Stella reported that the power levels on the Kara had dropped to zero. The emergency batteries had been brought down to the planet’s surface to keep the life support systems for the patients running. Up on the ship, only those in hardsuits would stay alive.
Once the reactor was down, teams from the Grania Estelle, led by Tamara, went over to the Kara and evacuated all of the remaining crew to the shuttles. They were sprayed down with blue goop while still sealed in their hardsuits, then loaded on the shuttles and flown over to the bulk freighter. From there, after confirming the rad levels on their suits had dropped to normal (the blue goop was truly amazing at radiation cleanup) Galina met them there in the boat bay. From there they were stripped out of the suits and rushed to sickbay where Turan and his medics went to work. They were all suffering from high levels of radiation; most of them had serious damage already from the prolonged exposure. The hardsuits had limited the damage, but the sheer time spent being flooded by hot energy had compromised the suits, as well as the wearer’s constitutions. Turan refused to give up, but two of the Kara’s engineers were not expected to live out the day.
At this point, once the crew was gone, Tamara and Ka’Xarian led their teams throughout the ship, coating everything, every surface, every molecule that they could reach with the decon goop. Three straight days of work, with six-hour breaks for everyone every two hours to get out of the ship to refresh their systems. Only being able to work for two hours at a time meant their work speed was reduced to a crawl, but no one was willing to try and be a tough guy when it came to serious radiation. When the ship had finally cooled down enough, the teams moved into the engineering spaces, and the whole process began again. Rad levels were ten times as high there as they were in any other part of the ship, which meant the two teams had to go even slower and be even more thorough with their spraying.
Finally, when the three days were up, the Captain called a halt. All of his engineering teams were required to take a day to rest and get checkups by Turan. White blood cell counts were a bit low, which meant the doctor put an end to the repairs for a week. All of them were dosed with anti-rad meds and two were dunked in the regen tanks to allow their immune systems to recover. Tamara had all of the new hardsuits she had made collected and tossed out the airlock. The tractoring beams flung them out into the void. The suits had been immersed (inside and out) with goop, but Turan was taking no chances. He ordered all of the suits and clothing that had been worn to be disposed of, insisting new suits be constructed. Tamara balked at this, but the Guura brooked no argument. After a half an hour of taking verbal abuse by the engineer, the doctor gave a simple response: either the suits get disposed of, or he would call off the entire affair.
The suits went out the airlock half an hour later.
While they were waiting for the time to be up so they could get back aboard the Kara, Stella and Quesh had put their heads together and came up with a more palatable solution. Six worker bots, designed with radiation in mind, were replicated and flown over by shuttle to the Kara’s boat bay. Once inside, the AI and the Parkani (as well as four of Quesh’s technicians) flew the bots throughout the ship, getting to the reactor spaces.
It was decided that the best and most expedient way of dealing with the radioactive components and compartments was to simply slice the parts out with cutting torches. It made for a much more enjoyable few hours than it would have cutting and lugging the hot components off the ship by hand. Remote controlling the bots was a much more visceral experience; the operators had all the fun of ripping out the useless parts without any of the dangers.
Galina was less than thrilled with this way of doing things; with engineering teams simply ripping apart pieces of her ship willy-nilly and throwing them out into the void. It took all of the Captain’s considerable negotiation skills to keep the lupusan administrator from tearing up the deck plating. Corajen needed to be called in to try and help calm the wolfwoman down. The two lupusans stayed in the wardroom together for some time; the Captain was dismissed to go on his way. They had things to discuss, a common heritage to rekindle. No one knew what was said or what happened in the wardroom during those three straight hours, not even Stella. She had been ordered by the Captain to shut down all sensors and recording devices in the room and Corajen activated a few custom devices of her own to keep the AI from cheating. When the two females exited the wardroom they were all professional, they spoke respectfully to one another and Corajen returned to the security office, Galina went to find the Captain, completely calm.
After the irradiated components were gone, another round of spraying needed to be done, but this time, things moved at a faster pace. Once a surface was decontaminated, it stayed that way. The teams moved through the ship with a will. Six hours later, the ship was clean and the goop had vaporized. Of course there was no power and great deals of the engineering spaces were in shambles, but it no longer posed a radiation hazard.
Another problem posed itself. While the teams had been working on the interior, the ship’s orbit had begun to deteriorate. It wouldn’t be more than a few days before the orbit fell entirely and the ship crashed into the planet. From orbit, Kazyanenko was a world of green land and waters so dark they were almost purple. It would have been a terrible tragedy to have all that destroyed by a falling ship.
It was Tamara who provided the solution. Grania Estelle did not have a tractoring beam strong enough to pull a vessel the size of the Kara up into a higher orbit, but it turned out not to be necessary. By magnetically clamping the three shuttles from both ships to the Kara’s hull, their engines were able to provide sufficient thrust to bring the hospital vessel to a much higher orbit. It would be safe until they could get the reactor installed and the systems reactivated. Then the Kara could maintain its own orbit without outside assistance.
Things moved quickly from that point. The parts were replicated and transferred over to the hospital ship, then assembled. Crew from the Kara was brought in to assist, those Turan deemed fit to return to duty. Two were still floating in regen tanks, recovering from their earlier exposure. It didn’t take long for the ship to be brought back online. From there, it was a matter of days to overhaul the hyperdrive and upgrade the Kara’s shields. It wasn’t much, but they would be able to hit Orange level one by the time they would leave the system.
It took several days to get the ship back to a state of readiness they could work with. Doctors and nurses began flying up from the planet’s surface, using all three shuttles to ferry the professionals and their patients. The medical people were less than happy with the back and forth from the planet, though most of them admitted they much preferred the more controllable environment of the ship than that of the planet. And the environment was much better, now that the radiation was clear and the life support system was overhauled. It was almost like a completely new ship.
The captains of the other two ships had not left orbit, nor had they communicated in any significant way. They were monitoring the activity going on between the Kara and the bulk freighter, but they made no attempt to assist or interfere. This was extremely odd, that they would just sit there and do nothing.
“It’s so strange, being on board the Kara and have so many operational systems,” Galina remarked. “If I didn’t know better, I would swear that this was a different ship.”
“In many ways it is, Administrator,” Ka’Xarian replied. “We’ve replaced a lot of the ship’s systems and many of the patched and repaired ones are operating much more efficiently than before.”
“Well, I am truly grateful for all you have done. The transfer of personnel and our patients are moving apace. I’m not sure how long you were intending to stay here, but we should be ready to leave in about a week.”
The zheen’s antennae bounced up and down in the equivalent of a shrug. “Sorry, Madam Administrator, but I have no idea about that. The Captain will decide it, but he hasn’t posted any schedules. We weren’t expecting to find you here, so I think he’s working on any trade deals at a more leisurely pace than normal.”
The lupusan smiled. “Well, he can take his time. I need the extra time to scrounge up more local medicines. What little was still on the ship was ruined when the reactor irradiated everything.” She let out a puff of breath, a frustrated sigh. “What the locals have isn’t nearly good enough.”
Again Xar bobbed his antennae. “I’m sure you can work something out, Madam Administrator. From what I’ve seen over the last few days, it sounds like you have what it takes to find the solution.”
She smiled at him, her ears perking up. “You have a gilded tongue, Ka’Xarian.”
He bowed, self-mockingly. “Thank you, Madam Administrator. But I must get back to this diagnostic.”
“Of course.” She bowed to him now. “My bridge crew will be up here in another two hours. I would appreciate it if you could bring them up to speed on the ship’s systems.”
“Certainly, Madam Administrator,” he replied, then turned back to his computer display.
“Yes, I think we will take those,” Taja said, walking through the warehouse on the planet. She was being escorted by a pair of Kazyanenko trade officials and deals were being made. She had snagged a container of copper ingots and steel ball bearings going to Yullankla, which the Captain had determined was their next stop. It was one jump away and close enough that Grania Estelle could reach Ulla-tran within his original six month deadline to meet up with Emilia Walker. Taja had also picked up a number of crates of packaged foodstuffs for sale in the next system and possibly beyond.
“Those are not cheap, Mistress,” one of the men indicated. “There is a great call for those.”
She smiled at him. “Yes, I know they are, but I think the people on Ulla-tran will very much appreciate them. Kazyanenko hardwoods are quite beautiful and I know more than a few people on Ulla-tran will be interested. So, as I said, we’ll take them.”
“Very good, Mistress,” the man said, marking something on his clipboard. He was actually using archaic pen and paper, as opposed to the electronic data pad Taja was using.
“What other items do you have scheduled for Yullankla?”
“Well, there is a container of dry edibles,” he temporized.
She brightened, making a note of her own. “Wonderful! Let’s go see them.” She frowned. “What are these cargo cans here?” She gestured to five massive stacks of cylindrical cargo containers.
“Oh, those?” the man asked. He checked the labels on the containers. “Those are for the glassworks on Ulla-tran, actually. Fifteen cans, twelve meters in diameter each. Looks like five of sand, five of fine clay and other five of a mix of various compounds. Looks like lime, magnesium oxide and… yes, aluminum oxide. One of the ships in orbit brought in the order, but they had engine trouble and besides, their ship is too small to carry even one of those cans.”
“They came from Ulla-tran?” Taja asked, looking thoughtful. “Which ship?”
“The Grey Feathers,” he answered. “Captain Maxwell’s ship.” The man frowned at her. “You didn’t know that? Great big parking lot of ships in orbit of our humble little planet and you didn’t know that?”
The small woman snorted. “Well, there might be a lot of ships here, but the two smaller ships aren’t too interested in talking. At least not to us anyway.” She pursed her lips. “All right, we’ll take the cans for the glassworks too.” Taja looked at him, a hard expression on her face. “Wait. They aren’t on any kind of priority, are they? Some other ship wasn’t supposed to deliver?”
The man shook his head. “No, Mistress. Cosorp Glassworks placed the order and are waiting for the delivery. They have a small office over in the plaza.”
“Earmark those cans for us then, please,” she decided. “I’ll stop over there once we’re done here and pick up the contract.”
“Sounds good to me.” The man consulted his list. “Oh, one more thing. Over here. There’s a pair of containers carrying beryllium ingots.”
“How big?”
“The ingots? Standard size,” he said, making a fist. “About that big.”
Taja chuckled. “No, I meant the containers.”
“Oh, sorry. Twelve meter, same as the other.”
“These are going to Ulla-tran too?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he replied, flipping up a paper. “For the shipyard there.”
“Excellent. We’ll take them.”
They wandered about a bit more, Taja selecting a few more containers for transport. None of the containers were as large as those first few, but she did find about a dozen more to be transferred to the ship. Containers of rice, plastic pellets, three ten meter cans of coal, even four containers of feed for livestock on Yullankla.
She signed the contracts after conferring with the Captain over her communicator. He trusted her instincts and her business sense. She was, after all, the cargo specialist for a reason. They would bring in some nice shares after delivering all of these. It had been quite a while since Grania Estelle had managed to snag this many cargoes. As far as making a profit on this run, they had a few bits and bobs to sell, but what really brought in the cash were the items from the replicators.
Kazyanenko didn’t have much in the way of industry, mostly mining and farming, with a few cottage industries set up for producing what the locals needed. The freighter crew set them up with parts for a new hydroelectric generator for the massive dam project that was going on about fifty kilometers from the city. The locals were looking to dam up the Gornek River and it would provide all of the power they would need and do so much more efficiently and cleanly than the coal burning furnaces.
They also built a few pre-fab shelters and a few pieces of farming equipment, combines and several plows. The crew shares here were better than they’d seen in months, which made everyone happy. There was talk that the Captain was working on a deal with the city mayor about building a number of engines for some of the ground vehicles the people here used. Trucks, mostly, though there were a few family vehicles included. Tamara and Stella had the parts replicated and ready for shipment down to the planet in less than a day, and unlike the leaders at Hecate, those here at Kazyanenko were more than willing (eager even) to do business with them.
As the shuttle was unloading, crates of engine parts which required hover pallets and hoists to move, they were so weighty, the mayor himself was there to watch the unloading, making it sort of an informal holiday. People lined the edges of the landing pad to watch the freighter jockeys unload the parts, cheering as each new crate came out of the shuttle’s cargo hold.
The crew, meanwhile, was rotating in shifts down to the planet for shore leave. There were plenty of bars and places to eat, which gave the crew more than a few chances to blow off steam. It also gave them a chance to interact with the crews of the other ships, the Grey Feathers and the Ocarina. At first, in the various bars where they would meet up the interactions were very cool and standoffish. Several rounds later, the groups had intermingled. A few of them were even singing. After that, the three crews would get together down on the surface and swap stories.
This was causing problems for the officers on the two ships. They were still trying to stay aloof from the bulk freighter, but the co-mingling of the crews was starting to erode that. Also, the crew and officers of the Kara were communicating wit
h the two other ships, which seemed to soften them up a bit more. But they still weren’t talking.
The Captain was in the wardroom, a mug of coffee cooling in his hands. He’d been there over an hour now, reading the same paragraph in the latest system status report, but not really seeing it. His mind was elsewhere, a million light years away. They were to be breaking orbit in two hours, moving in a convoy with the Kara out into the void, heading toward Yullankla. In that time, cargo had been shuttled up to the ship, the crew had tied their last collective one on, and final checks were being done on the Kara’s hyperdrive to ensure they would be prepared for the jump. The engineering teams from both crews were confident the drives would hold up and were just making one last check before they left. But he wasn’t concerned about that. Quesh and his people, as well as the engineers under Galina Korneyev, were competent and well equipped. The hospital ship would get underway on schedule.
The captains of the other ships irked him. He could understand they might have thought he was a threat, his big ship entering the system and getting the Kara shipshape again. But he was irritated that both of them were still refusing contact. Sensor sweeps had determined that the ships were in decent repair and reports from the local, as well as the Kara indicated that they had been here in orbit for several weeks. The Kara’s sensors weren’t as good as those on the Grania Estelle, especially before the reactor overhaul and to be honest, Administrator Korneyev was far less rude than he was. She hadn’t been prying into the inner workings of the other ships.
His crew and their crews had gotten along down on the planet, the massive bar tabs and uncharacteristic lack of fights spoke to that. And yet, still, both ships and both captains refused to speak with him or with anyone on the Grania Estelle. It was maddening.
Tossing down the datapad to the table, he got up and walked to the hatch. He walked briskly down the corridor and onto the bridge. George was there, as was Kutok and the pilot.
Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 Page 41