by neetha Napew
“We’ve only got minutes. Get between ‘em!” Perkin leaped between the heavy metal doors, now rolling closed, and tried to force one of them back. His men started to force their way through the crowd to help him, but they couldn’t reach him before he screamed. “I’m being crushed! Help!” The doors had closed with him between them.
Lunzie was galvanised by his cries. Mustering the strength of Discipline, she shoved her way through the crowd. Perkin’s face was screwed up with pain as he tried to get out from between the doors which were threatening to cut him in half lengthwise. The adrenaline rush hit her just as she reached the front of the line. She and the other engineers took hold of the doors and pulled.
Slowly, grudgingly, the metal blast doors rolled back along their tracks. The crowd, now more frantic than before, rushed into the dining hall around Perkin, who was nearly collapsing. As soon as the doors had been braced open with chocks blocking the tracks, Lunzie rushed to catch Perkin and help him out of the way. He was almost unable to walk, and out-weighed her by fifty percent, but in her Discipline trance, Lunzie could carry him easily.
She pulled open his tunic and examined his chest, hissing sympathetically at what she saw. Her fingers confirmed what her heightened perception detected: his left rib cage was crushed, endangering the lung. If she worked quickly, she could free the ribs before that lung collapsed.
“Lunzie! Where are you going?” the voice of Coromell demanded as she hurried to the access stairway leading to the upper decks.
“I’ve got to get some quick-cast from my office. Perkin will die if I don’t brace those ribs.”
“Admiral! We’d better go, too,” Don shouted, urging him toward the doors.
Coromell pushed his aide’s hands away. “Not a chance! I won’t be shoved into one of those tiny life preservers with a hundred hysterical grand dames wailing for their money! They need all hands to keep this hulk from spinning into that planet. We can save lives. I may be old, but I can still do my part. The captain hasn’t given the evacuation order yet.” Suddenly he felt at his chest, and took a deep, painful breath. The colour rushed out of his face. “Dammit, not now! Where’s my medication?” With shaking fingers, he undid his collar.
Don led him to a couch at the side of the room. “Sit here, sir. I’ll find the doctor.”
“Don’t plague her, Don,” Coromell snapped, as Don pushed him down into the seat. “She’s busy. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m only old.”
Lunzie flew up the steps. As she rounded the first landing, she found herself in the way of another crowd of frantic passengers running down, heading to the dining hall from their cabins. She tried to catch the stair rail, but was knocked off her feet and shoved underfoot. Lunzie grabbed at the legs of the passing humans, trying to pull herself to her feet, but they shook her off. Still possessed of her Discipline strength she forced her way to the wall and walked her hands upward until she was standing up. Keeping to the wall, Lunzie focused on staying balanced and pushed through the mob, paying no attention to the protests of the people in her way. Another herd of humans barrelled past her, trying to climb over one another in their panic to get to safety. She knew she was as terrified as they were, but between Discipline and duty, she didn’t - wouldn’t - feel it.
The next level was practically deserted. The emergency hatch to the methane environment, normally sealed, had drifted open, dissipating the nauseating atmosphere through the rest of the ship. The rescue capsules on that level were gone. Gagging and choking on the stench, Lunzie ran to her office.
The power in this section had gone on and off several times. Hatchways held in place by magnetic seals had lost their cohesiveness and fallen to the ground, denting walls and floors. Lunzie dodged past them and physically pushed open the door to the infirmary.
With the corridors clearing, she could see that there were other victims of the tragedy. With Perkin’s ribs correctly strapped and braced, he was out of danger. She left him on the soft couch to rest. Tirelessly, she sought out other injured members of the crew.
“Here, Lunzie!” Don waved her over to the dark corner where the Admiral lay unconscious. “It’s his heart.”
As soon as she saw the old man’s pinched face, Lunzie gasped. Even in the red light she could tell his skin was going from pasty to blue-tinged white. She dropped to her knees and dug through the medical bag for a hypospray, which she pressed against Coromell’s arm. She and Don waited anxiously as she peered at her scanner for his vital signs to improve. The Admiral suddenly stirred and groaned, waving them away with an impatient hand.
“I’m going to give him a vitamin shot with iron,” Lunzie said, reaching for a different vial. “He must rest!”
“Can’t rest when people are in danger,” muttered Coromell.
“You’re retired, sir,” Don said patiently. “I’ll help you walk.”
“You’d better get to the capsules,” First Mate Sharu called to them.
“Not going in the capsules,” Coromell wheezed.
“I’ll stay and help, Sharu,” Lunzie shouted back.
Sharu nodded gratefully, and signalled for the remaining capsules to close their doors. “Captain,” she told her wrist communicator, “you may give the order.”
“What can we do?” Don asked, as they helped the Admiral toward the stairs. “This situation will only worsen his condition. He’ll want to help!”
“Let’s get him to one of the cryogenic chambers. I’ll give him a sedative, and he and the other critically injured crew can cold-sleep it until we’re rescued.” Lunzie half carried the old man toward the infirmary ward, worrying whether he would survive long enough to be given the cryogenic drug.
There was another tremor in the ship’s hull, and all the lights went off. This time they stayed off for several seconds. Only the corner emergency beacons came on in the great holo-room.
“That’s it, then,” Chibor groaned. “No more drives. Those lights are on batteries.”
A crewman battered at the side of the control screen next to the doors. “The function computers are wiped. The programs’ll all have to be loaded again from ceramic. It’ll take months, years to get the whole ship running again. We could lose everything, power, life support. ...”
“Concentrate on one section at a time, Nais, so we have partial environment to live in,” Sharu ordered. “I suggest the hydroponics sections. For now there’s plenty of fresh air for the few of us left. Set up mechanical circulation fans to keep it moving. Rig a mayday beacon.”
“Telemetry said that we’re too close to the planet. No one will be able to see us,” Nais argued pugnaciously. His nerves were obviously frayed. “We’re not supposed to be here anyway. The giant is only our landmark in this system. We’re millions of kiloms from our proper jump mark.”
“Don’t you want to be found?” Sharu shot back, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him. “Check with Captain Wynline, see what he wants to do. He’s up on the bridge.”
“Yes, Sharu,” Nais gasped and dashed toward the accessway.
“It’ll be dangerous here until we regain systems stabilisation,” Sharu said to Lunzie, who had just returned to the holo-room. “Can I help in any way?”
“Get me a battery-powered light down here, and I can keep going.” Lunzie was grateful that she hadn’t become totally dependent on all the toys of modern medical technology. What would those fellow physicians of hers from Astris Alexandria do now without their electronic scalpels?
She was still working on the burst of adrenaline evoked from her Discipline training. When it wore on, she’d be almost helpless. Until then, she intended to help the wounded.
There was a sound like a muffled explosion behind her. Lunzie stood up to see what it was in the dimness. Only half visible in the gloom, the metal blast doors rolled slowly, inexorably closed on the empty dining hall.
“There go the chucks! The doors are closing!” Chibor cried. “Look out!”
A sharp-cornered weight hit Lunzie fu
ll in the chest, knocking her backwards. She slammed against the wall and slid down it to the floor, unconscious, over the body of her patient. Chibor ran to her, mopping the blood from Lunzie’s cut lip, and felt for a pulse.
Sharu appeared a few minutes later, sweeping the beam of a powerful hand-held searchlight before her. “Lunzie, will this do? Lunzie?”
“Over here, Sharu,” Chibor called, a formless shape in the red spotlights.
The First Mate ran toward the voice. “Krim!” She sighed. “Dammit. Put her in the cold-sleep chamber with Admiral Coromell. We’ll get medical attention for her as soon as somebody rescues us. Meantime, she’ll be safe in cold sleep. Then let’s get back to work.”
BOOK THREE
Chapter Seven
Lunzie opened her eyes and immediately closed them again to shut out a bright sharp light that was shining down on her.
“Sorry about that. Doctor,” a dry, practical male voice said. “I was checking your pupils when you revived all of a sudden. Here” - a cloth was laid across the hand shielding her eyes - “open them gradually so you can get used to the ambient light. It isn’t too strong.”
“The door chock hit me in the chest,” Lunzie said, remembering. “It must have broken some ribs, but then I hit the back of my head, and ... I guess I was knocked unconscious.” With her free hand, she felt cautiously down the length of her rib cage. “That’s funny. They don’t feel cracked or constricted. Am I under local anaesthetic?”
“Lunzie?” another voice asked tentatively. “How are you feeling?”
“Tee?” Lunzie snatched the cloth from her face and sat up, suddenly woozy from the change in blood pressure. Strong arms caught and steadied her. She squinted through the glaring light until the two faces became clear. The man on the left was a short, powerfully built stranger, a medical officer wearing Fleet insignia of rank. The other was Tee. He took her hand between both of his and kissed it. She hugged him, babbling in her astonishment.
“What are you doing here? We’re ten light years out from Astris. Wait, where am I now?” Lunzie recovered herself suddenly and glanced around at the examination room, whose walls bore a burnished stainless steel finish. “This isn’t the infirmary.”
The stranger answered her. “You’re on the Fleet vessel Ban Sidhe. There was a space wreck. Do you remember? You were injured and put into cold sleep.”
Lunzie’s face went very pale. She looked to Tee for confirmation. He nodded quietly. She noticed that his face was a little more lined than it was when she had last seen him, and his skin was pale. The changes shocked and worried her. “How long?”
“Ten point three years. Doctor,” the Fleet medic said crisply. “Your First Mate was debriefed just a little while ago. She and the captain spent the whole time awake, manning the beacon. We very nearly missed the ship. It’s about sixteen percent lower into the Carson’s Giant’s atmosphere than it was when they sent out the mayday and released the escape pods. The orbit is decaying. Looked like a piece of debris. Destiny decided it doesn’t want to retrieve the hulk. In about fifty more years, it’ll fall into the methane. Too bad. It’s a pretty fine ship.”
“No!” Lunzie breathed.
The medic was cheerful. “Just a little down time. It happens to about a fifth of Fleet personnel at one time in their careers. You should feel just fine. What’s the matter?” He closed a firm, professional hand around her wrist.
“It’s the second time it’s happened to me,” Lunzie sagged. “I didn’t think it could happen to me again. Two space wrecks in one lifetime. Muhlah!”
“Twice? Good grief, you’ve had an excess of bad luck.” He released her hand and quickly ran a scanner in front of her chest. “Normal. You’ve recovered quickly. You must be very strong, Doctor.”
“You need exercise and food,” Tee said. “Can I take her away, Harris? Good. Walk with me through the ship. We have recovered all forty-seven of the crew who stayed behind, and two passengers. It is because of one of them that we were able to come looking for you.”
“What? Who stayed on board with us?”
“Admiral Coromell. Come. Walk with me to the mess hall, and I’ll tell you.
“It was after you had been gone two years that I began to worry about you,” Tee explained, dispensing a much-needed pepper to Lunzie. They programmed meals from the synthesiser and sat down at a table near the wall in the big room. The walls here were white. Lunzie noticed that the navy vessel ran to two styles of decoration in its common rooms, burnished steel or flat ceramic white. She hoped the bunkrooms were more inviting. Tedium caused its own kinds of space sickness. “I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what it could be. You had only written to me once. I found out from the AT&T operator that it was the only communication charged to your access code number in all that time.”
Lunzie was feeling more lively after drinking the mild stimulant. “How did you do that? Astris Telecommunication and Transmission is notoriously uncooperative in giving out information like that.”
Tee smiled, his dark eyes warm. “Shof and I became friends after you left. He and Pomayla knew how lonely I was without you, as they were. I taught him much about the practical application of laser technology, and in exchange he gave me insight to computer tricks he and his friends nosed out. He was very pleased to learn from me. I think he made some points with his technology teacher, being able to give detailed reports on the earliest prototypes of the system. Oh, he wanted me to let you know that he graduated with honours.” He sighed. “That was eight years ago, of course. He gave me a ticket for the graduation. I went with the rest of the Gang who were still at the University, and we had a party later on, where your name was toasted in good wine. I did miss you so much.”
Lunzie noticed the slight emphasis on “did,” but let it pass. There seemed to be a distance between them, but that was to be expected, after all the time that had passed. Ten years didn’t pack the same shock value as sixty-two, but at least she could picture the passage of that interval of time. “I’m happy to hear about Shof. Thank you for letting me know. But how did you get here?”
“It was the video you sent me, and the fact that you sent no more, which made me go looking for answers. You seemed to be very happy. You told of many things which you had observed on the ship already. The cabin in which you were living was the daydream of a rich man. The other physicians were good people, and all dedicated professionals. You had just delivered a baby to a dolphin couple under-water in the salt-water environment. You missed me. That was all. If you had meant to tell me that you had found someone else, and it was all over between us, you would have sent a second message. You were sometimes very mysterious, my Lunzie, but never less than polite.”
“Well,” Lunzie said, taking a forkful of potatoes gratinee, “I do hate being cubbyholed like that, but you’re right. So my manners saved my life? Whew, this meal is a shock after the Destiny’s cooking. It isn’t bad, you understand.”
“Not bad, just uninteresting. How I miss the apartment’s cooking facilities!” Tee looked ceilingward. “So long as I live, I will never be entirely happy with synth-swill. Fresh vegetables are issued sparingly to us from the hydroponics pod up top. I never know when I will next see something that was actually grown, not formed from carbohydrate molecules.”
“To us?” It registered with Lunzie for the first time that Tee was dressed in a uniform. “Are you stationed on the Ban Sidhe, Tee?”
“I am temporarily, yes, but that comes at the end of the story, not the beginning. Let me tell you what happened:
“I was not informed when the space liner first went missing. Whenever I asked the cruise line why I was not receiving messages from you, I was told that interstellar mail was slow, and perhaps you were too busy to send any. That I could accept for a time. It could take a long while for a message brick to reach Astris from Alpha. But surely, after more than two years, I should have heard from you about your meeting with Fiona. Even,” Tee added self-consciously,
“if it was no more than a thank you to me as your caseworker.”
“Surely, if anyone does, you had a right to a full narration of our reunion. I owe you much more than that. Oh, I have missed you. Tee. Great heavens!” Lunzie clutched her head. “Another ten years gone! They were expecting me - Fiona might have had to leave again for Eridani! I must get to touch with Lars.”
Tee patted her hand. “I have already sent a communication to him. You should hear back very soon.”
“Thank you.” Lunzie rubbed her eyes. “My head isn’t very clear yet. I probably did have a concussion when they put me in the freezer. I should have your doctor scan my skull.”
“Would you like another pepper?” Tee asked solicitously.
“Oh, no. No, thank you. One of those is always enough. So the cruise line said everything was fine, and it was just the post which was going astray. I smell a very nasty rat.” Tee disposed of their trays and brought a steaming carafe of herb tea to the table. “Yes. So did I, but I had no proof. I believed them until I saw on the Tri-D that Destiny Calls was supposed to have been lost in an ion storm. The Destiny Line had recovered the passengers, who were sent out in escape capsules. Some of them gave interviews to Tri-D. Even after that, I still hadn’t heard from you. Then, I began to move planets and moons to find out what had happened. Like you with Fiona, I ran into the one block in my path. No one knew what had happened after the Destiny Calls left its first stop after Astris. The Destiny Line was eager to help, they said, but never did I get any real answers from them. I insisted that they pay for a search to recover the vessel. I told them that you must still be aboard.”
“In fact I was. There were a lot of crew wounded when everything began to fall apart, and I couldn’t leave them.” Tee was nodding. “You know about it already?” Lunzie asked.