Valor At Vauzlee

by DePrima, Thomas

  "Commander Rodriquez, what can you tell us about the fire on Deck Seven?" Jenetta asked.

  "I have some preliminary information, but we won't know the full story for some hours yet."

  "Tell us what you do know," she said calmly.

  "Yes ma'am. The fire started around 0419 hours. The paint locker was already fully involved when Engineering Specialist 1st Class Paul Douglass, working on Deck Eight, began checking on a faint odor of smoke. He was smart enough not to try to open the door to the paint locker after placing his hand against it and feeling intense heat. He alertly notified the bridge, who sounded GQ before also notifying the engineering duty officer in the Maintenance Operations Center about the reported blaze. My fire crew, at least those on duty, immediately suited up and raced to Deck Seven, while other personnel remotely closed all airtight doors and vents in Sections Seventeen through Nineteen, on Decks Six, Seven, and Eight to make sure the blaze and smoke would be contained once the paint locker door was opened. Air vents in the paint locker had sealed automatically when the blaze was detected. We evacuated air in as many surrounding compartments as possible, where no life was present according to the main computer. We set air scrubber equipment operation in all adjoining areas to maximum. Additional off-duty personnel continued to arrive in support of those already on the scene. When they felt ready, they attached a McCarthy fire valve to the top of the storeroom door. The valve assembly contains a laser cutting torch that opens a hole to allow firefighters to ventilate the room by sucking out smoke and pumping in Alonn gas. If you simply open the door, you're re-introducing oxygen where combustion has probably ceased, but where fuel gases and smoke remain at high temperature. Combustion would restart with an explosive effect. This is commonly called a backdraft. It's an extremely dangerous situation.

  "Once the room was properly ventilated, we began spraying fire retardant through the McCarthy valve. The large size and shape of the storeroom prevented that effort from being totally effective so the valve was eventually removed from the door and the door opened. The explosive effect had been largely negated, but the materials in the paint locker still presented my firefighters with a horrific blaze to smother. They began spraying fire retardant into the room as fast they could, and eventually managed to quell the fire."

  "We saw the effort," Jenetta said. "They did an excellent job. What I want to know is how the blaze started, and why the automatic systems didn't immediately alert us and commence suppression operations."

  "How it started we don't yet know. I suspect arson."

  "Arson?" Jenetta repeated loudly. "On what basis?"

  "The materials stored in that room are highly combustible. For that reason, every possible effort has been made to ensure that nothing in the room can initiate a blaze. Also, we've discovered that the fire notification and suppression systems on Deck Seven, Section Eighteen were intentionally deactivated just before the blaze started."

  "Deactivated intentionally? Are you sure?"

  "There's no question, Captain. Someone got into the computer and shut off the systems. We didn't discover it until we began our investigation after the blaze was out."

  "But if they destroyed the ship, they'd risk death as well."

  "I don't think they intended to destroy the ship. The other decks and sections were excluded from the tampering. Where we had evacuated the air, the flames couldn't spread, but even if we had lost control of the fire in Section Eighteen, the flames would have been stopped cold when the fire expanded into areas where the fire suppression controls were still active. But Section Eighteen on Deck Seven could have been a complete loss."

  "So they don't have a death wish," Jenetta speculated rhetorically. "What other reasons could they have? Stop us from reaching Higgins in time to face the Raiders, divert our attention away from the murder investigation, or something else? I understand that the weapons control computers are in an area adjoining the paint locker?"

  "That's correct, Captain," Commander Rodriquez said.

  "If they'd been damaged, how long would it take to repair or replace them?"

  "It depends on the extent of the damage, naturally. The systems have triple redundancy, but everything is in that one section. If the fire had gotten out of control, we might not have been able to repair them. A full replacement could take a month or more. We'd have to cobble together a system from scratch, because we really just carry replacement component assemblies for those most likely to fail."

  "So we could have arrived at Higgins unable to assist in its defense?"

  "Yes, Captain."

  "What else is in that section," Jenetta asked.

  "Our main data storage and retrieval center. The hardware containing the sensor log records that Major Galont's people and mine have been searching are stored there, as well as all vid logs."

  "So the murderer might have been hoping to stop our investigation cold."

  "It's possible," Rodriquez said. "The perpetrator could never have gotten into that engineering section without being observed and recorded, so this would be his only opportunity to inflict such damage while keeping his identity unknown."

  "And given the degree of damage to the paint locker, there's almost no chance of finding any identifying information pointing to the arsonist," Galont said.

  "It's interesting that this occurred on the same deck as the murder of Petty Officer Nichols," Jenetta said.

  "Deck Seven has little traffic during the hours that these crimes have been committed. That means few witnesses to the passage of our malefactor," Galont said.

  "Did you prepare a list of individuals that passed through that area in the hours prior to the fire?"

  "We checked the logs as soon as the fire was extinguished, but they contain no record of anyone having passed through that corridor from the end of the second watch at midnight, until Specialist Douglass arrived. But the door was opened at 0412 and again at 0415."

  "So who opened the door?"

  "Unknown. It's not a secure area so no special clearance was required, but since it's a fire hazard area, anyone seeking entrance must brandish their hand within centimeters of the admittance sensor. That's to keep the door from opening unintentionally if there is a fire inside, as when Specialist Douglass stepped in front of the door. The system should have automatically logged the ID of the person seeking entrance."

  "Unless it was a cleaning bot," Elizi said.

  "Cleaning bots can't open the door because of the flammable materials stored there. And the sensors do record a bot's ID whenever it enters a room." Rodriquez said.

  Jenetta sucked in a full breath and then released it slowly while she thought. "Then it appears that our saboteur was able to clear the log records while engineering was still fighting the blaze. He, or she, appears to be both intelligent and efficient, in addition to being ruthless. I want this person found and stopped before he does any more damage. Is there anything we can do that we're not already doing? What about compiling a list of the fifty most capable computer people on board and checking their alibis thoroughly?"

  "We've already compiled a list of everyone with the ability and experience to potentially hack into the ship's computer systems," Galont said. "The main computer has sifted through all personnel records and provided us with thirty-six names. We're working our way down through the list as quickly as we can, beginning with the most capable computer experts first. We've bypassed the top individual on the list, but everyone else remains on the list until they're cleared beyond a shadow of a doubt."

  "I don't want anyone skipped. Why can't you check the alibi of the first person on the list?"

  "Uh, it's you, Captain."

  "Oh. Well— I know I'm not the killer or saboteur."

  "As do we, Captain," Maine Captain Galont said. "Short of confining everyone not on duty to their quarters and having all my Marines patrol the corridors constantly, I can't think of anything else we can do that we're not already doing."

  "I will not allow this person or pers
ons to drive us to that extreme," Jenetta said. "But increase the patrols on second and third watch, and have them specifically concentrate on areas not normally recording much traffic during off hours, such as Deck Seven. It won't be necessary to stop anyone, unless they're doing something suspicious, but all patrols should carry portable sensor equipment to record the ID of everyone they pass. If we can't rely on the central system to provide information on the movements and identities of our perpetrators, perhaps the portable systems can provide some leads."

  "You think that there might be more than one, Captain?" Ashraf asked.

  "I admit that it's hard to believe we might have both a murderer and a saboteur aboard this ship, but I'm trying to keep an open mind about everything at this point. It's most likely the same individual."

  * * *

  Jenetta stopped short as she stepped from the lift into Corridor 3 on A Deck a couple of days later. She was returning to her quarters after a grueling hour in the ship's gym. It was the first time she'd taken an opportunity to work out since coming aboard.

  Laundry bots lined both walls of the corridor for some distance. Jenetta had never seen such a sight anywhere except outside the laundry itself, and only rarely there. As she moved into the center of the corridor, eight of the five-foot-tall bots detached themselves from the queue and prepared to enter the empty lift. Their half-meter wide by meter deep box-like bodies with two articulated arms, would completely fill the lift, so one necessarily stood patiently by until the rest were settled, then slipped into the last available position. When the doors closed, the rest of the bots in the queue advanced to fill the now vacant positions closest to the lift.

  Jenetta looked at the bots suspiciously as she walked slowly towards her quarters near the entrance to the bridge in Corridor 0. There was no logical reason why they should be congregated on A Deck.

  As she turned into Corridor 0, she found Lieutenant Risco standing in the hallway, staring into her quarters. So intent was the young officer that she never heard Jenetta come up behind her.

  "Your quarters would never pass inspection at the Academy, Lieutenant," Jenetta said lightly, staring over Risco's shoulder. Risco, totally preoccupied with her thoughts, started at the sound of the unexpected voice, then immediately calmed.

  "I've never seen anything like it, Captain," she said. "Laundry bots were standing in my doorway, pitching dirty clothes into my sitting room. I guess there wasn't enough room to get inside by the time I arrived."

  Indeed the room was filled with dirty laundry. Mountains of the stuff covered what, Jenetta guessed from the placement and contours of the piles, was the underlying furniture.

  "We'll have engineering clear it out right away," Jenetta said.

  "I've already called it in, Captain. Right now my only concern is for my cat, Simone. She usually curls up on the sofa when I'm not there. I hope she's all right. I've been calling but she hasn't responded."

  "Cats are very intelligent creatures, Lieutenant. I'm sure she headed for cover as soon as the laundry started flying."

  "I hope so. She's all the family I have. I couldn't bear it if she was killed by some laundry bots run amuck."

  Jenetta placed her hand lightly on Risco's shoulder and squeezed gently before moving away.

  As Jenetta neared her own quarters the doors opened as they should, but she was unable to enter. The condition of her sitting room resembled that of Risco, but if anything, the piles were even higher. A solitary figure stood forlornly in the middle of the room. Woodrow had managed to clear a spot in which to stand, but it wasn't like clearing a path through snow. The laundry piles were interleaved and the weight pressing down from above prevented some pieces from being removed.

  "Woodrow," Jenetta said, grinning, "I see you've been letting your work pile up."

  "I don't understand it, Captain. I was in the galley when I heard the door annunciator. When I came out, a dozen laundry bots were in the sitting room flinging dirty laundry everywhere. I tried to shut them down, but they wouldn't respond to verbal commands. When the first group had flung everything they had in their storage compartments, another group moved in and did the same. Then another and another."

  Jenetta grinned again and depressed the face of her Space Command ring, then said, "Commander Rodriquez."

  "Rodriquez here, Captain," she heard an exasperated voice say a couple of seconds later.

  "Commander, if the laundry is full I would think that you could find a better place to store the dirty laundry than my quarters, or that of the other officers on A Deck."

  Although Jenetta had tried to make it sound light, Rodriquez apparently wasn't in the mood for levity.

  "I'm sorry, Captain. As a matter of fact the Laundry is completely empty and the cleaning machines are sitting idle. I believe that the problem lies with the Laundry Module in the computer system. It looks like someone has been tampering with it. All of the records are messed up, and code has been overwritten. All the clean clothes in the Laundry at the start of the first watch were delivered to the wrong quarters. Then the bots began removing clean clothes from the quarters of various crewmembers and redistributing them to other quarters. Soiled clothes were never brought to the laundry."

  "Are you saying that by tomorrow morning we're all going to be naked?"

  "Well," Rodriquez said quietly, "everyone still has the clothes they're wearing now."

  "I'm wearing sweats. I just came back from the gym."

  "Don't worry, Captain. We'll find your clothes."

  "That's comforting. Do you think our saboteur is behind this?"

  "It would seem that way, ma'am. I can't imagine anyone else hacking into the laundry system and changing the code."

  "At least it's a bit less harmful than his last effort. Keep your people on it, Commander. We can't have the routine of this entire ship upset because our people don't have clean clothes to wear."

  "Aye, Captain," Rodriquez said.

  "Carver out."

  Jenetta stood looking at the mountains of clothes in her sitting room for several more seconds, then said, "Woodrow, I'll be in my briefing room until this matter is— sorted out."

  "Aye, Captain," he said.

  * * *

  Chapter Thirteen

  ~ May 13th, 2268 ~

  "Sir," the Prometheus' astrogator said to Gavin, "Higgins has acknowledged our imminent arrival and issued a straight in approach clearance, sir. They're announcing that all normal approach regulations have been suspended for SC warships returning to the station.

  "Understood, Lieutenant," Gavin said from his command chair on the bridge,

  "Uh, sir?"

  "Yes, Lieutenant?"

  "They're routing us directly to the docking ring."

  "The docking ring? That can't be. Confirm that approach directive."

  "I have, sir. They're directing us to dock at Kilo-Two. Chiron is being directed to dock at Lima-Two."

  "Com," Gavin said, "Verbally confirm docking instructions."

  "Aye, Captain," the com officer said. A few seconds later he said, "Docking instructions verbally confirmed, sir. We're to proceed directly to the Kilo-Two docking pier."

  "What the devil…" Gavin muttered under his breath. "Astrogation, time to Higgins?"

  "Our ETA is eighteen-minutes six-seconds."

  "Very well," Gavin said curtly, then sat back in his chair and stared at the front viewscreen. They were still much too far from Higgins to see the space station, or even the planet Vinnia that it circled in geosynchronous orbit. Currently traveling at Light-375, they couldn't even see the miniscule pinprick of light reflected by the planet. With the approach speed limits set aside, they would come in as hot as they dare, then drop their envelope at the inner-pattern marker, just ten thousand kilometers from the station, instead of at the normal fifty-billion kilometer point. At that point they'd engage sub-light engines and travel the rest of the way at one-hundred kps, the normal inner-pattern speed.

  "New message from Higgins, Ca
ptain," the com officer said a few minutes later. "There are two hundred crewmen waiting to board when we dock. They've appended a roster."

  "Forward a copy to my holo-tube, Lieutenant," the Captain said."

  "Aye, sir."

  Gavin lifted the holo-tube from its storage pocket on the side of his chair and depressed the recessed activation switch. A visual image immediately leapt upward from the device. As he scrolled through the names, checking ranks and assignments, he saw that more than half were gunnery teams. The others were engineers, medical personnel, and support crew. "That explains the docking," he muttered as he deactivated the device and slipped it back into its storage holster. "Com, forward a copy of that list to the docking bay officer. Direct him to bring adequate help to verify the identities and orders of all new personnel as they board. Also send a copy to the housing officer."

  "Aye, Captain."

  "Preparing to drop envelope, sir," the helmsman said.

  "Acknowledged."

  As the enormous ship came to a stop at the leading edge of the inner-pattern, and then began to move forward in n space, picking up speed rapidly, the image on the front viewscreen rippled slightly for a fraction of a second and then stabilized. It was an indication that the ship's astrogation computer had switched over to mainly optical sensors. While traveling faster than the speed of light, the image on the viewscreen was, perforce, a non-optical representation prepared from digitized sensor data. Deployed in positions roughly a thousand km from the station, none of the five ships representing the station protection fleet presented any obstacle to the Prometheus or Chiron. Ordnance and fuel barges were standing by near the assigned airlock piers, waiting for the two massive ships to moor so they could move in and begin their re-supply efforts.

  As the helmsman completed the dock and lock fifteen minutes later, Gavin jumped from his chair and hurried down to the forward cargo bay. The great airlock doors in the bay were still sliding back as he leapt through the opening, startling the Higgins dockmaster. Gavin hopped into the first parked driverless vehicle he encountered without asking to whom it was assigned, and ordered it to take him to the headquarters section of the base. As it began moving through the docking ring, Gavin ordered it to exceed the limits imposed by its speed governor, using his authority as a senior SC officer to override the normal safe speed limit.