by J J Perry
Cyrus stood up and paced around the room as everyone sat, waiting in silence. He stopped to read the rules and regulations displayed on screen. This went on for almost five minutes.
“Will it make it easier if we ask everyone to vote on whether this is subject to vote based on their understanding of the rules and regs?” Raul asked as the others murmured assent.
“I am going to lose in any case. But that makes it more defensible at Command.” Cyrus sat back down. “All who think the Parambi issue is subject to vote raise a hand.” Four hands went up. “This question passes in the affirmative. All who believe that additional measures to control Dr. Parambi should be taken, raise a hand.”
Four hands went up. “The measure passes 4–3 in the affirmative. Now, is everyone happy?”
“No,” replied Lucinda. “The language was too vague. We need to vote on subjecting Dr. Parambi to medical and surgical procedures against his will for the purpose of reducing his potential for harm against ship and crew.”
“That is too strong,” Cyrus objected.
“Otherwise,” Raul pointed out, “you might be able to block any procedures on him to which he did not consent. I, for one, am not interested in playing games with semantics or this political bullshit. We should vote on the language proposed by Lucinda.”
“Do you want to repeat that?” Cyrus asked.
Lucinda hit a button, and her voice sounded, a recording of what she had said. “All in favor of that?” she asked.
The same four hands went up. There was silence.
“Cyrus, you need to speak,” Savanna said. “It’s your voice that needs to be heard here.”
“The measure passes 4–3.” Cyrus spoke, stood and left the room.
“So, ladies,” asked Savanna, “how are you going to do this?”
Maricia and Lucinda looked at each other and said, almost in unison, “We have a plan.” Raul gently shook his head, grateful he was not the object of their stratagem.
5.1
Minutes later, a soft alarm sounded. The security pouch for Parambi’s locator had been breached. This immediately prompted a distributed chorus of “oh shits” and a flurry of security hardware and software activity. All stairwell doors were secured to prevent movement between floors by Dr. Parambi. Maricia and Lola went to quarters where Parambi’s locator signal was seen. In his room was a spray can of topical anesthetic, a small puddle of blood beneath a metal scalpel heavily taped to the corner of a shower, and a couple of small mirrors, one taped above the blade.
“He is one crafty devil,” Maricia said. “I never dreamed anyone could do that.”
He was not there. Lola found his locator at the bottom of the commode. Maricia notified all personnel of her findings. Lucinda was on CAC, monitoring everything as far away from the monster as she could get. The others were searching. Cyrus was on the fifth floor, Science. Savanna was on the fourth floor, Medical. Raul was limping around the first floor with Ivanna, his guard.
From the commander’s chair, Lucinda watched a schematic of the vessel, which showed the location of all humans and mobile robots, the status of all doors, and a variety of camera displays. She listened to the chatter on voice communication channels and failed to hear a soft whoosh followed by sliding friction coming from two rooms away.
A panel between an equipment bay on the seventh floor and the access (and climbing) shaft slid open slowly. A minute later, a door into the tactical office silently moved. Suresh paused to catch his breath and slow his heart rate, elevated by the rapid but stealthy climb. He cracked the door to CAC. He saw Lucinda in profile as she sat watching the monitors. She was watching him by a camera in tactical, which she had activated when a signal for the door opening had displayed. She kept her eyes on the screen that was oriented to prevent him from seeing the display. Their heart rates were out of phase, his falling, hers rising.
Equipment on the ship did not include weapons. There were the usual tools of opportunity: knives, hammers, and rope, to name a few. Suresh could reasonably expect that Lucinda was defenseless. Lucinda could not know what armament, if any, Suresh might have. She was confident he felt that surprise was on his side. Superior intelligent or not, the alteration of his frontal lobe interfered with his judgment.
Lucinda arose from the chair, yawned, stretched, and walked to the coffee station, away from tactical and out of sight of Suresh. There, she fumbled in the base cabinet for a couple of seconds. She filled a cup with Cointreau, sugar, and dish soap. She stepped to a second cupboard and withdrew a candle lighter and hid it in a pocket. She moved back to her chair, stirring and pretending to sip the napalm variant. She remained focused on her peripheral vision, trying to prevent her eyes from wandering to the door that separated her from the guest. When she reached her seat, the camera showed Parambi opening the door silently and exiting the room, moving to her rear. Listening intently, she heard nothing over the ambient noise. She took all the doors in the ship off security mode with a couple of taps. The servomotors sounded at the entry to the room as security was released and the latches opened. This occurred over the entire ship and was heard by everyone. On hearing the latches open, she suddenly stood, rolling the wheeled chair backward with great force and turning in time to see Parambi lunging toward her but stumbling over the chair.
He swung at her with his left hand as his right fended off the seat weapon. With her left hand, she threw the contents of the cup on his face and upper body before his fist glanced off her cheek, spinning her around and back onto the console. The chair flew across the room. Lucinda kept the momentum caused by the blow going by spinning around and over the console, clutching the lighter in her right hand. Parambi wiped at his eyes, blinking in pain for a couple of seconds, as Lucinda darted to her right for a door that she knew would hardly slow a determined assault. His face grew expressionless other than the constant blinking as he leaped over the console after her. He reached out, grabbing the back of her shirt, and pulled her to a stop. His hands grasped and started to crush her neck. Lucinda frantically flicked several times before a flame held. She thrust it into his chest. His upper body erupted in blue fire. He pulled his hands away and shrieked. Lucinda staggered, singed, bruised, and unable to breathe, fearing he had crushed her larynx. He rolledto his feet, a man on fire. Lucinda wanted him dead. She finally inhaled with loud stridor as she regained her erect posture. She eyed and ignored the fire extinguisher. She moved to avoid the blinded, enraged, thrashing maniac that had caused her so much pain.
Cyrus burst wide-eyed into the room. “Oh my god! What happened?” he shouted but could barely be heard over the crashing and screaming. Lucinda said nothing and kept moving to avoid being hurt. Within seconds, Suresh fell to a knee. Cyrus grabbed the extinguisher and fogged the flames as Savanna reached the top of the stairs. Suresh toppled, his screams turned to moans. Maricia entered and rapidly called up both med-bots.
“What in the hell happened, Luc?” Maricia asked as she bent down over a charred and blistered face, eyelids gone, corneas opaque. Parambi suddenly grabbed Maricia, pulling her on top of him, crushing the air from her lungs. She could not speak or scream. Cyrus pulled at Parambi’s strong arms in vain. Lucinda walked around and, devoid of her hallmark compassion, savagely kicked Suresh in the side of the head. His arms went limp for a moment. Maricia got up assisted by Cyrus covered in ash and serum, cursing in Danish. After a couple of utterances that sounded like “four fannings,” she muttered, “Good god, this is disgusting.” As she walked to a sink, Parambi started to move again, resuming blind kicks and punches. Lucinda raised a foot above his head.
“No!” Cyrus yelled and scrambled to stop her. Too late. Her foot slammed down on Parambi’s skull. He seized for several seconds and then became perfectly still.
The lift opened with Raul, Lola, and Ivanna entering the latest disaster zone as the seizure ended.
“Verbalize your ongoing assessment,
” Lucinda commanded the med-bots.
“Second- and third-degree burns over approximately 40 percent of the body and arms. Low probability of fatality,” Lola stated in her luxuriant Brazilian voice, so inappropriate for the moment.
“We should have let him burn,” Lucinda whispered.
“He must have come up the access shaft,” Savanna said. “All the doors were secured.”
“He did,” Lucinda responded.
“Closed head injury, potentially serious.”
“I didn’t think about that,” Savanna said.
“I saw a door signal up here, and I knew that everyone was downstairs. I picked him up on the camera in tactical. This whole thing is probably recorded.”
“Airway questionable, possible cervical injury.”
“I wonder if he was after you or if you were just in the wrong place. I’m so sorry, Luc.” Savanna got closer, but Lucinda stepped away.
“I know his head is screwed, but, I’m sorry, the bastard got what he deserved, maybe less. I’m sick of this shit.”
“Gurney en route. IV material en route. Cardiac status acceptable.”
“You have been the hardest hit.”
“I doubt that Raul would agree with your assessment.”
“Yeah,” Raul chimed in. “I have scars.”
“Let me see,” Savanna said.
“Alteration in brain wave activity noted.”
Raul turned away after making a quick false smile face. Lucinda called out, “Let’s get him down to Medical and save his sorry ass so he can continue to sabotage the ship.”
“Keep a lid on it, Fischer,” Cyrus said as he gave a crusty look at Lucinda.
“Listen, Paria, I’m more than a little suspicious about the timing of this whole gang bang.” She approached him with anger still flashing from her eyes. “Within minutes of our little vote, he rips out his locator and goes on a rampage. Why right then?”
“We don’t need this, Lucinda,” Savanna interposed herself between the two angry people, moving Lucinda away. “We can discuss this later. Let’s give it a little thought and some research. It stinks in here. Can we get some ventil—”
There was a loud thump and a tremor large enough to make everyone stagger. This was immediately followed by whistles and beeps of alarms. Cyrus turned to the console and a moment later bellowed, “Collision!”
5.2
Warning icons filled the control screen as the lights went out. The two med bots froze. Everyone scrambled in the dim light from consoles and screens as well as LED emergency lighting spots near the core toward one of the four stations with chairs in CAC. Raul lost the race to a seat and hobbled to the stairs. His normal location was one flight down in COM anyway.
There were no additional tremors. Within twenty seconds, the main computer had assessed all systems. Two of the three main processing units had stopped but were rebooting. Propulsion and the small nuclear generator had never shut down. The four noncritical floors had all been immediately shut down and would need to be powered up and restored, which normally would take a few minutes. Lola and Ivanna regained erect posture and, within thirty seconds, resumed management of the motionless Parambi.
“Brain wave activity abnormal. Probable increasing intracranial pressure.”
“Is the lift operational?” Maricia asked as she was tapping screen icons. Almost immediately, an almost imperceptible hum came from the central core ceiling. “Ugh, disgusting,” she muttered off and on, looking at the stinking material clinging to her arms and clothing.
“I’ll bring up the lift and reboot Medical, Cy,” Savanna said. “You should probably focus on damage assessment, engineering, and propulsion.”
“I should check Nav first.”
“Let Raul do it. He’s down there.”
Lucinda was looking at her portable screen then diverted her gaze to Parambi. She walked over to inspect him. There was blood on the right side of his head where she had kicked and then stomped him.
“Paradoxical increase in blood pressure. Formal assessment of intracranial cavity required.”
“The electronics of the elevator are functional,” Savanna said. “There is a mechanical problem.”
“We need urgent transportation to Medical.” Lola continued with her verbalized assessment and recommendations.
“What kind of mechanical problem?” Cyrus asked.
“I don’t know. It’s just stuck and won’t move.”
“Do we need to get somebody into the shaft?” Maricia asked.
“Give me a minute to troubleshoot,” Savanna said.
“There is no damage to the crew module,” Cyrus announced. “The collision was on the propulsion side.”
“That makes sense, since it’s hundreds of times larger,” Savanna said. “How fast are we going anyway?”
“Roughly 0.4 c,” Cyrus said.
“We still have gravity, so it’s still firing,” Lucinda said.
“Cyrus, we need someone to go into the lift header and maybe into the shaft,” Savanna said. “The compartment is stuck. It is either a cable or pulley problem or the car is wedged.”
“God has given us a wedgie,” Lucinda said without humor.
Parambi snored loudly. Lola adjusted his head and repeated the need for transportation.
“Terminate verbalization of assessment,” Lucinda commanded. She turned toward Cyrus and Savanna. “This is looking like an epidural hematoma in addition to his burns. He needs to be in Medical if you want to save his butt.”
“Can you do it, Savanna?” Cyrus asked.
“Someone will need to reboot Medical,” she responded.
“I can,” Maricia said.
“Why don’t you take care of this piece of shit,” Lucinda said, returning to a console, “and I’ll bring up Medical from Engineering? I can’t stand to look at him.” She swaggered out of the room and down the stairs with a posture that said “Don’t mess with me.”
Savanna walked through the tactical office and into an equipment room. She pulled a toolbox out of a low cabinet. She put on a headlamp and a tool belt. She adjusted it to fit and crawled into the maintenance shaft through the opening Parambi used to enter. She climbed up a short distance and accessed the motor and pulley room for the elevator. She examined the cables and pulleys using her headlamp and a handheld light.
“Lola, update me,” Maricia commanded.
“His condition is deteriorating. He will need assistance with ventilation soon. Our kits do not contain endotracheal tubes.”
“Can you go to Medical and get one?”
“Yes. However, we are slow going downstairs. Humans are faster.”
“I knew that. Are the communicators working yet?” Maricia asked as she tapped hers and found the negative answer. She ran to the stairs, still dimly lit, and went down three flights two steps at a time. Medical was dark except for minimal emergency lighting. She noted Lucinda was at work in Engineering because there was a sequence of boot-up lights and icons parading across a couple of screens. Maricia knew where the equipment was, but it’s slowgoing in the darkness. She picked up an airway toolbox and made her way to the base of the stairs butpaused. They would also need a pharmacy box. She went back and, in her haste, tripped. She struck her forehead just above her right eye. Sometime later, she awoke and felt warm fluid on her face and in her hair. Her vision was blurred. The ventilation box had spilled its contents over a large area of floor. She put a hand on her forehead and pulled it away, looking at black sticky fluid. She replaced her hand and pushed on the growing lump. She remained prone until the dizziness was replaced by a headache. She rolled to a sitting position. Her left eye searched the darkness, and her cloudy head tried to recall where there might be something she could use as a tourniquet. She tried to stand, but the dizziness returned, now with nausea. In a treatment bay about twenty o
r thirty feet away, she thought she could find something that would slow the bleeding. She could not carry both boxes with one hand. She crawled toward the bay. She had no clear idea about how much time had passed.
As she approached the bay, she heard footfalls. A familiar Danish voice sounded. “Hvad er i vejen?” It was good to hear her native tongue. “What’s wrong?”
She responded, “Jeg har faldet og skæret mit hoved. I fell and cut my head. I need to stop the bleeding.”
Ivanna materialized out of the darkness. She took a quick look, not needing much light in the visible spectrum. Her sensors imaged deep ultraviolet to high infrared. “Stop moving. I’ll be back.” She came back in seconds, or so it seemed. She pressed a rectangular band about one centimeter wide over the gash firmly and held it there for about one minute. The pain at the site decreased dramatically. When she removed it, there was no bleeding. “As you know, you must sit here for at least five minutes. I will take the two kits back to CAC. You should take the lift, if it is operational by then. If not, move up the stairs very slowly.”
Ivanna reached down to Maricia’s wrist and tapped some buttons on her watch. “I set the timer for five minutes.” Ivanna quickly replaced all the materials in the box. She flew over to the drug kit, picked it up, and went back to the stairs as the lights went on. “Medical should be fully functional within two minutes. The communicators are now operational,” she stated as she left the room.
The elevator was stalled. Ivanna flew up the stairs four at a time. While going down was problematic for a med-bot; going up was not.
Savanna finished examining the motor, cables, and pulleys, finding nothing. She pulled the switch that disconnected the power from the motor and went back into the access shaft. She climbed down to the access door marked 4. Opening it, she found she had guessed correctly. She went into the elevator shaft onto the top of the car. She shone a light around all the edges and saw some damage. Looking down along the side of the car, she could see a toolbox wedged between it and a structural beam about a meter below. It explained why some union maintenance guy was docked pay months ago for losing his toolbox. It looked heavy. If it fell to the bottom of the shaft, it could cause more damage. This was going to take some time and different equipment. She called Cyrus.