by J J Perry
“Oh god, no!” Lucinda collapsed cross-legged on the floor with a blank stare.
“This is a status report,” Savanna announced through the intercom in the hall. “We have two injured. Engineering room is secured. The mechanical situation is under control.”
“Come on, Luc. Do CPR until Lola and Ivanna get here,” Maricia pled with rhythmic emphasis.
“He’s dead.”
“You can’t say that until the docs analyze him. Pump, damn it.”
She rolled up on her knees, put her hands together, and rhythmically compressed his sternum synchronous with Maricia. Seconds later, the lift door opened. The med-bots entered. “The system reports there was a high-voltage arc in the control console,” Ivanna said. “The surge was terminated late by a backup system. It appears to be safe to restore power.”
Some lights went on.
Lola went to Chen, placing one hand over his face and forehead, the other over his heart. Ivanna did the same with Leila.
Savanna opened a secondary panel and pulled a breaker switch left and then right, more lights coming up and a soft hum of fans resuming. The doctors gave a series of chest compressions for roughly another minute. Lucinda slid away to a wall, leaning back and watching. Einstein was assessing Leila as the defibrillator went through another shock sequence on Chen. “Leila is clinically dead,” Ivanna announced. Lola said the same about Chen. Lucinda pulled her legs up and hugged, her head on her knees. Savanna entered and put a hand on her shoulder. Maricia sat next to her, put an arm around, and hugged.
Einstein looked at each one in the room as she said, “Further resuscitation is futile. Both individuals should be moved to Medical for further analysis. We can do this once a stretcher is here.”
Cyrus spoke. “Lola, can you access data from the room to ascertain how this occurred?”
“Now, Cyrus?” Savanna flashed anger at his lack of sensitivity.
Lola responded, “There was an unusual activation of a key sequence that led to a very high voltage and current in a coil located high in the console. It appears to have arced from the coil to a ground near the floor on the far end of the console. The solid-state breaker for this circuit failed and did not immediately prevent the discharge. It was terminated by an electromechanical relay, a fail-safe not in control by the system software. The short circuit lasted”—she paused—“at least several seconds instead of milliseconds. Human interference is the most likely cause of failure.”
Maricia slowly stood and viewed the two bodies. “Cyrus?”
He had left the room and was looking at the panel where Savanna had stood. “Yes.”
“Did you pull Chen’s pants down?”
“I said that’s how we found him.”
“Leila’s underpants are on her left ankle. Right forefoot and toes are badly burned.”
“Electrocution is the likely cause of death for both,” Ivanna said.
Maricia looked where the pair had been standing. “There is a charred spot on the console about twenty-five centimeters from the floor. The burn on her foot is an exit wound.”
Maricia looked at Leila’s belly and chest then rolled her over. “Her rump is red but not badly burned. Oh my.” She spoke with alarm. She looked to see if Lucinda was watching. She was not. Her head remained on her knees. She moved Leila’s legs apart and found what she did not want to see. She rolled her onto her back without saying a word. Savanna watched and knew from the look on Maricia’s face exactly what had happened.
“Did you find semen?” Lucinda asked without looking.
The room was suddenly quiet. The chronic low-pitched hum from the LBS and the soft fan noise intensified. “You don’t want to know,” Maricia responded.
Lucinda began to wail. Savanna tried to hold her. She reacted. “Don’t touch me! I—I can’t—” She started heaving in agonizing sobs. Savanna sat down next to her.
Cyrus peeked inside at the commotionwithout a reaction. Ivanna left to get a stretcher, taking Cyrus with her.
“What happened?” Cyrus asked as they climbed stairs.
“Electrocution from the high-voltage coil in the console.”
“How did it kill them both?”
“We need to complete our investigation.”
Minutes later, the two of them delivered gurneys from the lift. Ivanna and Lola easily lifted the bodies without help. Lucinda was still on the floor, rocking back and forth but quiet. Ivanna and Lola wheeled the dead crew members into the elevator.
“I wonder how long it will take for them to figure out what happened,” Cyrus wondered aloud.
“We already know,” Savanna said.
“Clue me in.”
“Later.”
“You can talk,” Lucinda said with a sigh. “This explains what was happening between Chen and me.”
“What was this key activation?”
“Maybe it was hands and fingers or belly and boobs on the keypad as they made love doggie style,” Savanna opined. “Maybe something else.”
“What?”
“Cyrus, they were banging each other. The capacitor discharged and arced to his fingers and through him into Leila and out her foot.”
“That is disgusting. How could they do that?
“They’re human,” Maricia said.
“We just lost our commander and the chief engineer.”
“And two friends,” added Maricia.
“And a womb,” he said, “which compromises our mission. I’ll tell Raul what has happened.”
“I’ll tell Raul,” Maricia said. “You tell Suresh.”
“Oh. What should I say? They died doing whom they love?”
“I’ll tell Suresh,” Savanna said. “It’s not in your skill set.”
“I’m so ashamed,” Lucinda said.
“We’ll get you through this, hon,” Savanna said.
She opened up her arms, and Lucinda moved closer. Savanna enclosed her in an embrace as the crying resumed. Maricia joined in the huddle. The three women sat on the floor without speaking, wrapped in sorrow, shame, and compassion. Cyrus shook his head and exited, waited for the lift, and soon went to bed.
3.3
The Engineering bay was clean and restored to full function within hours. Medical contained the two corpses. The crew of six met during lunch in the mess hall to debrief and console. Wong’s rule of the ship was to staff Command and Control all of the time with rare exception. However, any computer terminal could be configured to a pilot program. None was as ergonomic as sitting in CAC pilot bay. The mess had such a master display on a wall for these occasions. Lucinda, Savanna, and Cyrus sat together on one side of the table. Maricia and Raul held hands opposite them. Suresh had pushed his chair apart from the rest, silent and expressionless, often manipulating his handheld computer. Dr. Ivanna Gnawcoeur was in the room, assessing the status of each crew member using their body and verbal language. She could also monitor pulse and breathing rates, blood volume status, and several other physical characteristics that augmented her psychological assessment. Suresh made no eye contact with anyone but would briefly glance at her. The menu had been adjusted to accommodate mourning. The process of eating was over but not much had been consumed.
Cyrus tried to remember what it was he was going to say. He had rehearsed this half a dozen times for Savanna but now had gone blank. Savanna gestured several circles with her index finger, indicating he should get rolling with his speech. “Having been promoted from second in command, it is probably appropriate that I say something more or less official. I just don’t know what to say. First priority is to figure out how to meet the needs in Engineering.”
“Cy, maybe it would be better if I talked,” Savanna interrupted. “People, not tasks, remember?”
“Go ahead.”
“Cy has performance anxiety.”
“Does it
strike anyone else as peculiar that the main computer placed Cyrus in command?” Raul asked.
“I was always second in command,” Cyrus said curtly.
Savanna agreed with Raul but only in her thoughts. “The decision is made. We should support the new commandant. So, back on topic, Chen was a likable leader. He had the final word about putting this crew together. He was instrumental in all the phases of getting this mission under way. He helped in selection, training, supply, and everything. He named the robots, evidence of his sense of humor.”
“Is that what you call it?” Gnawcoeur interjected. It brought a wry smile on a couple of faces.
Savanna continued. “We owe him a great deal of gratitude. Leila was an excellent engineer. She was also easy to get along with, a great team member. The death of these two makes completion of the mission more difficult.”
“We need to make some assignments to cover the shortage of personnel,” Cyrus said.
“Maybe you should work on that and present a plan to us,” Savanna said. “Later, Cy, not now. On a personal note, there are no words”—Savanna paused as she choked on grief; she patted her eyes and dabbed her nose with a kerchief—“no words that convey emotions any of us feel now. There are just feelings, complex, confusing, and painful. Words like ‘betrayal’ come to mind. I can’t imagine how either of you feel, Suresh, Lucinda. But we are here collectively and each of us personally with something to offer you, some measure of support.”
“Thanks,” Lucinda said. “You have been great, all of you.”
“Of all manners of death we could have anticipated, this was not one of them. Each of us will accommodate to this injury, not without scars and not without making mistakes. Sorrow will change each of us, as a chisel does a stone. The result is not predictable. I know from experience. We cannot wallow in sadness and mourning because we have work, duties, and a mission that has not changed.”
Suresh remained impassive, expressionless. Lucinda put an arm around Savanna and squeezed. “Thank you, Savanna,” she said.
“I was thinking about a memorial service in two or three days. How does that sound?”
“It’s a good idea,” Maricia offered.
“I think we need to get input from the med-bots about timing,” added Cyrus. “Rules.”
“Suresh, have you thought about what you would like to do and when?” Savanna asked.
It took a moment for him to respond. He looked at Gnawcoeur but no one else. “That’s fine. A joint service is probably most efficient.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m certain.”
“Two days from now will be psychologically optimal,” said Dr. Gnawcoeur.
Late that night, Raul, unable to sleep, poured through the ship’s log. The mainframe had completed its analysis of the fatal event. Interestingly, it had found some irregularities in the software that affected the console that killed Chen and Leila. The conclusion reached by the mainframe was protected, locked from anyone but the commander. That served to intensify his insomnia. He looked at the psyche profiles updated after their meeting. Gnawcoeur had entered. Her assessment of the crew was that two of six were likely to experience psychological decompensation. That report didn’t go to the new commander as he was on the list. As he tried to read through it, the screen changed, and a message appeared. “Entry Sealed. Further access denied.” He left his small station and very slowly made his way back to quarters where Maricia snored softly, beautifully under a satin sheet. He sat and watched.
3.4
LAUNCH + 119 DAYS
Lucinda stirred in her bed, alone as she had been for about a month. She was stuck in a dream she knew was a dream where she could not get a med-bot to stop a reiterative circuit. It was an oriental female model with a Korean manufacturer. The dream went on with interruptions and obstacles that prevented her from fixing the malfunction. No matter what the problem was, the robot said, “This is entirely consistent with North African Somalian Small Back Camel Bite Fever.” She wanted to wake up but knew it wasn’t yet time.
The dream changed. The robot became an Asian male, a handsome, square jaw, chiseled chest, six-pack abdomen seen through a thin muslin shirt. He gave her a bird of paradise and an éclair. He gently caressed her cheek and told her he wanted her—wanted her not as a possession but to savor her skin, her hair, her eyes. She felt young and beautiful as he spoke, and the familiar, pleasant flush of lust began in her chest and spread. She kissed the robot, lips as soft as butter, scented like Madagascar. He placed his warm hand behind her neck and up into her hair, taking her breath away. He hugged her tight. She felt him tremble in excitement. He caressed her face and moved his fingers to her upper chest.
She gasped andwoke up at the peak of arousal. The handsome man was gone. On the nightstand was a flower, a bird of paradise. She flew into a sitting position, pulling her sheet up to her neck, looking madly around the room.
Next to the silk flower was a card, folded and sitting like a tent. She picked it up. It was scented, sweet and clean. Inside was writing. “When a surgeon asks for a wet one, do you give him a dripping sponge or a wink and a lusty growl?”
The day before, she had awoken in a similar excitable state with a different note. “Looking forward to working in your area. Olay!” She was confused about the syntax. As she looked at it later, she wondered if it was a word play, a reference was to her areola. Someone was coming into her room, and it made her angry. Even more disturbing was why this always happened with an erotic dream.
A little later in the morning, Raul hurried into CAC. “I just posted some bad news, Cy,” Raul said.
Cyrus closed a colorful screen before Raul could tell what he was viewing. “Just tell me.”
“REAP 22 failed before going to sleep stage. They had a sudden loss of communication. Speculation is there was a collision. At 0.7 c, a teacup could probably destroy the ship.”
“There are not a lot of those out there,” he said.
“You know what I meant.”
“Bad luck.” Cyrus smiled wryly.
“They were in the Oort cloud. That’s the only known failure in the fleet.”
“That we know of.”
“There is also a communication from Control about our incident. I didn’t read the whole thing, but it doesn’t say much either positive or negative. They have officially confirmed you as the commander. So I think that’s good.”
He said nothing in reply.
“You’re a ray of sunshine today. Anything I can do?”
“It’s the end of another long shift. There is a lot to do and nothing to do. I’m tired.”
Maricia walked in, winded at the top of the stairs. “Hey, does my shift start now?”
“In a few minutes,” said Cyrus. “How do you feel about your cross-training to take the helm?”
“I have a couple of questions. Hi, baby,” she said to Raul as she kissed him hard on the lips and squeezed one buttock out of sight of Cyrus. “What are you going to do during my four-hour sentence in CAC?”
“Read the news, finish the log, respond to control. The usual.”
“Boy, does that sound fun or what? OK, Cy,” Maricia started. “Before I ask you about the level four error messages and the response options, as a medical officer, I want to arrange a time to talk to you about how you’re doing emotionally as the new boss.”
“How is Suresh?”
“That is not an answer.”
“That is remarkably astute of you. I’m the commander, and I want to know about Suresh.”
“Well, OK, then. Your response is enlightening.” She sat in a nearby chair and glided to sit directly in front of him, unavoidably in his visual path. “He has been spending a remarkable amount of time with Lola.”
The med-bots were built in a frame of other phenotypical female robots. They had flawless skin that gave them a soft
, warm exterior as pleasant as an acne-free eighteen-year-old. Their speech patterns could be programmed, and their voices were voluptuous. This made the physicians less threatening. They also had complete sexual functionality, that programming dating back before 2020, over two hundred years earlier. This function was deemed not necessary for this mission, but no one could buy this kind of robot without it in the operating system. Such was the robot market.
“For counseling or what?”
“Mostly the ‘or what’ stuff. He downloaded some rather exotic subroutines into her.”
“Well, that does not sound good. What is your assessment?”
“It’s been five weeks. This sexual thing started about then. It is now down to about once a day, some times more. I am thinking about reprogramming Lola to be less receptive to his amorosity. He would program around it. Her prediction is that this will taper off in another week.”
“I don’t think amorosity is a word,” Cyrus observed.
“It is now, because I used it. Focusing on the issue, as long as he does not interfere with the mission or with Einstein’s medical or staff role, I would give it another week, as she suggests.”
“Is that good for him?”
Cyrus waited for a response. “I don’t know,” she started, glancing sideways at Raul. “Some men just need an outlet, any outlet. Maybe it’s a good thing we have anatomically capable robots. It’s too bad the bots are so damn beautiful and so expert at techniques. As you know, they can be addictive.”
“Could you ugly her up a bit?”
“Funny.”
“That’s her famous ‘any port in a storm’ speech,” Raul said.
“Well, try to get both the lady bots to offer him more insight and less pleasure.”
“He has never approached Gnawcoeur. He must not go for blondes, which is also good for me. I will do a little reprogramming after my turn at the helm. Maybe I’ll have Lucinda do it. So how are you doing? You seem more taciturn than usual, Cyrus.”
“Let’s go over the responses to error messages.”