The Doomsday Ship

by John Whitman

  SIM fix it?"

  Zak punched several buttons on the computer control panel. He found maps

  to the ship, a list of all the crew members, and a schedule of events that

  would never take place. He pressed another button and the screen went blank.

  "What are you doing?" Tash asked.

  "I have to figure out how to access the main computer. It's tricky. These

  terminals weren't put here so people could come along and break into the

  ship's main computers, you know."

  He punched in a few commands but nothing happened. Zak bit his lip

  nervously. There had to be a way to get to SIM. The hallway computer was

  connected to the main computers, which meant they were connected to SIM as

  well. All he had to do was find the connection.

  But slowly he became frustrated. The ship's computer system was as big as

  the ship itself-he simply didn't know where to look. Just when he was about to

  give up, Zak got an idea. He punched in a command. "Access game files."

  The list of computer games stored in the ship's computers came up. Zak

  chose TIE Fighter. The images of the game came on-screen, but then the screen

  flickered and a word started to appear.

  The letters HEL flashed onto the screen, followed by a bunch of scrambled

  words.

  "Is that 'hello' or 'help'?" Tash asked.

  Zak didn't know. He typed in, "SIM?"

  The screen flickered again.

  HELLO.

  There was a long pause.

  ZAK.

  "Got him!" Zak yelled. Then he typed, "Hello SIM. How'd you know it was

  me?"

  YOU WERE SMART TO ACCESS ME THROUGH THE GAME GRID. HOWEVER, THIS IS NO

  TIME FOR GAMES.

  "I wasn't planning on playing one."

  I KNOW... THAT WAS... A JOKE. HUMANS APPRECIATE HUMOR DURING A CRISIS.

  Zak typed again, asking the computer if it was okay.

  NO SYSTEMS DAMAGED. TRYING TO MAKE REPAIRS. ESTIMATED TIME FOR REPAIRS

  UNKNOWN SOMETHING IS INTERFERING. I SUSPECT SABOTAGE.

  The words limped onto the screen slowly. If SIM had a voice, it would

  have sounded like an injured person speaking through clenched teeth.

  "Sabotage," Zak said, surprised. Then he typed in: "Someone set off those

  alarms on purpose?"

  CAUSE OF ALARM UNKNOWN. INTERNAL SENSORS ARE NOT FUNCTONING. I DON'T EVEN

  KNOW IF ANYONE ELSE IS STILL ON BOARD.

  "Ask it if we can send a distress signal," Tash said. Zak did as she

  suggested.

  In answer, SIM displayed a list of all the problems with the ship.

  COMMUNICATIONS ARE NOT FUNCTIONING.

  ENGINES ARE NOT FUNCTIONING.

  FLIGHTS CONTROLS ARE NOT FUNCTIONING.

  LIFE-SUPPORT SYSTEMS ARE NOT FUNCTIONING.

  Zak read the last line several times before it sank in.

  "Zak," Tash said, reading over his shoulder. "If the life‑support systems

  are failing..."

  "We'll lose our oxygen. We'll die," he whispered. Then he considered.

  "But even if the computer isn't pumping new air into the ship, a cruiser this

  big is already full of air. And there are only two of us breathing it. So we

  have some time."

  Tash shrugged in frustration. "Time for what? We can't call anyone. And

  we couldn't fly this ship even if the engines were working." Suddenly, her

  eyes lit up. "But we could fly our ship. Maybe now that the emergency's over,

  we can get to the Shroud and fly it out!"

  They started toward the docking bay at a run, their footsteps echoing

  loudly in the empty hallways. But they had only gone a hundred meters down the

  hall when Zak suddenly slowed to a walk, and then started walking on tiptoe.

  Tash slowed down beside him. "What are you doing?"

  "I just thought of something," he said in a hushed voice. "If someone

  sabotaged the ship, they did it for a reason." He was going to add, "They

  might still be on board."

  But he never got the chance.

  A strong hand reached from behind and clamped down over his mouth.

  CHAPTER 7

  Zak struggled, but whoever grabbed him had a durasteel grip.

  Kicking and thrashing, Zak felt himself being turned around until he was

  looking into an arrogant, handsome face.

  The face of Dash Rendar.

  "Quiet," Dash ordered. "Both of you."

  Tash said nothing. Zak still struggled, but he couldn't remove Dash's

  gloved hand from his mouth.

  Dash didn't look at his prisoner. He seemed to be listening. After a

  moment he nodded, satisfied, then loosened his grip on Zak, who slapped the

  pilot's hands away angrily.

  "Easy there, kid," Dash chuckled, his face widening into a grin. "You

  might blow a circuit."

  "What's the - Why'd you - Who do you think-" Zak sputtered, furious.

  Dash seemed to understand all of Zak's half-spoken questions. He said

  calmly, "The idea was to keep you quiet. The why is because I thought I was

  being followed, and you two were making so much noise I couldn't locate the

  source of the footsteps. As for who I think I am," he scratched his stubble-

  covered chin. "It looks like I'm the guy who's got to get you two out of here.

  "

  "We don't need your help," Zak snapped.

  "Dash, what are you doing here?" Tash asked. "I mean with all the alarms

  going off, why'd you stay?"

  Dash nodded at her and Zak. "I could ask you two the same question."

  Zak didn't respond, but Tash said, "We got shoved into a storage room and

  the door jammed. By the time we got out, all the life pods had left and the

  blast doors were down, so we couldn't get to our ship."

  Dash burst into laughter. "You got locked in a closet?"

  Zak felt his dislike for Dash Rendar growing. The man was rude, arrogant,

  and, Zak was sure, completely untrustworthy. "Yeah, so what's your excuse?" he

  said. "You're still here, too."

  Dash wiped a tear of mirth from his eye and chuckled, "Locked in a

  closet." Then he sighed, "Me, I stayed aboard on purpose."

  Tash was surprised. "Why? The ship was going to explode!"

  The pilot shook his head with utter certainty. "No way. Ships this size

  don't just explode. They have back-up systems and all sorts of devices to

  prevent accidents. If something had happened, we would have heard from the

  captain before it got this bad. The warning siren came too quick for my taste.

  "

  "So you stuck around to see what would happen," Tash said, impressed.

  "That's pretty brave."

  "Pretty unbelievable," Zak said.

  He gave the pilot a long, suspicious look. Dash was exactly the kind of

  person Zak had worried about when they came aboard the Star of Empire. Now,

  studying Dash up close, Zak felt his instincts raise an alarm louder than all

  the cruiser's sirens.

  If Dash noticed the stare, he didn't pay attention. "I figure someone

  triggered the alarm on purpose. It's the easiest way to get everyone off the

  ship. Then all that someone would have to do is stay behind, and the ship is

  all theirs."

  "You mean stay behind," Zak noted sarcastically, "kind of like you did?"

  Tash looked around at the ship. "What made you think of that in the

  middle of all the panic?"

  "Well," the pilot admitted with a sly grin, "it is, as Zak
seems to

  think, just what I'd do. If I were the type of person to commit a crime, of

  course."

  "So who might have done this?" Tash asked.

  Zak answered her. "It could've been anyone. There were thousands of

  people on the ship. It could have been a group of smugglers, or thieves,

  anyone." He looked at Dash when he said that.

  "And if they're still onboard," Tash concluded, "then we'd better get out

  of here as soon as possible. If they're pirates, they'll have another ship on

  the way. Dash, we were just on our way to the docking bay to try to get to our

  ship."

  Dash shook his head. "No good. I just came from there. The blast shield

  doors are stuck tight. I was going to find the communications room and send a

  distress signal. Then the authorities could handle whoever might be onboard.

  The only problem is, I have no idea where to look. The communications room is

  restricted, so it's not listed in the ship's guide."

  "It is if you know how to look," Zak replied.

  They continued along the corridor until they came upon another passenger

  assistance terminal. There, Zak typed his way past the main screen until he

  found SIM.

  HELLO ZAK.

  Zak typed in their problem and their plan to reach the communications

  room. Flashing images onto the computer screen, SIM showed them where the

  communications room was. Then SIM added:

  HOWEVER, YOUR PLAN HAS ONLY A 15 PERCEPT CHANCE OF SUCCESS. I SUGGEST AN

  ALTERNATE PLAN. GO TO CONTROL ROOM. THERE, I CAN INSTRUCT YOU TO MAKE REPAIRS

  TO MY MAIN PROGRAM. THEN I CAN REPAIR SHIP, OPEN DOCKING BAY DOORS, AND SEND A

  DISTRESS SIGNAL.

  "Hey, guys," Zak called back over his shoulder. "SIM wants us to go to

  the control room and repair him instead."

  "Repair him?" Tash replied. "How do you know it's a male computer? Maybe

  it's female."

  "Okay, it," Zak replied. "It says that once it's repaired it can do

  anything we ask."

  Dash considered this. "But what if we can't repair it? We'd have wasted a

  lot of time. I say we get to the communications room."

  "Me too," Tash echoed.

  "But-" Zak began, but Tash and Dash had already started down the hall. He

  followed them reluctantly.

  The ship was huge, but it was easy to get around in. After all, it had

  been built to make passengers feel welcome. The halls were wide and brightly

  lit, and all the doors and areas were clearly marked. There seemed to be

  nothing to worry about. Except, of course, the other beings who might be on

  the ship with them.

  Only once during their walk did anything unusual happen. Tash suddenly

  stopped in midstride, pulling up so suddenly that Zak bumped right into her.

  "What-?" he started to say.

  "Shh!" she said. "Listen!"

  They listened. The halls were silent.

  "My scanners are clear," said Dash, using space pilot slang for "there's

  no trouble."

  "What do you hear?"

  A worry line formed on Tash's forehead. "It's not exactly what I hear.

  It's more like"-she paused and looked at Zak-"more like something I feel."

  Zak understood. Over the last few months, Tash had proven several times

  that she was in tune with the Force, the mystical energy that bound the galaxy

  together. Tash had learned of the Force by studying the Jedi. A year ago, Zak

  hadn't even believed that the Force existed, let alone that his sister might

  be able to use it. But now he recognized that her Force-feelings had often

  proved true. On three separate occasions she had even used the Force to save

  their lives.

  So when Tash said she felt something, Zak paid attention. "Are you still

  feeling it?"

  She nodded. "There's danger nearby. I feel something... no, someone

  watching. You know that feeling you get when you're not looking at someone,

  but you feel them staring at your back? It's like that." She shivered.

  "Whoever did this to the ship, they're right around here. They're close."

  After that, they walked quietly for a while, not speaking. But nothing

  happened. No one appeared. And eventually, they all began to relax again.

  They passed through one of the ship's restaurants. A few chairs were

  overturned, and here and there napkins had fluttered to the floor, dropped in

  the panic to reach the lifepods. Obviously, the restaurant had been hosting a

  party. An electronic banner over the door read HAPPY LIFE DAY, BOBRINGI

  MAFUSA. YOU'RE ONE FINE MON CALAMARI. One huge table was covered with desserts

  that had gone uneaten... until Zak spotted them.

  He scooped up a handful of pastries with cream-filling. "I wouldn't do

  that," Dash warned him.

  "Well, you're not me," Zak replied with a smile as he bit into the

  pastry.

  His smile vanished as dozens of small, wiggly legs squirmed out from

  behind his teeth and scrambled across his lips.

  "I'm glad I'm not you," Dash laughed.

  Zak gagged and wiped the wriggling things off his face. Looking down at

  his hand, he saw six or seven tiny crabs scurrying up his forearm. He sent

  them flying with a flick of his wrist, then spat out the pastry.

  Dash watched the little crabs run under a table. "The Mon Calamari live

  on a water-covered world. One of their favorite desserts is crab-stuffed

  creampuffs. With live crabs."

  Zak felt himself blush. He decided not to reply.

  On the far side of the restaurant was a wall made entirely of crystal. It

  looked out onto a park.

  "Hey, I was in that park," Tash said. "It's called the Atrium. There's a

  huge bank of turbolifts on the far side. I bet we can get to the

  communications room from there."

  "That would be prime," Zak noted, "but how do we get through that wall?

  There aren't any doors."

  "Then we'll make one," Dash said. He reached down to his side.

  For the first time, Zak wondered why the pilot carried a weapon on a

  luxury liner. But the question was literally blown out of his thoughts when

  Dash fired at the crystal wall, turning it into a billion tiny shards that

  fell to the ground like rain.

  "There's your door. Let's go," the pilot said casually.

  They crunched across the shattered crystal and out into the Atrium. Tash,

  who was most familiar with the park, led the way.

  They followed a path that wound through a small menagerie. There were

  eight cages, but instead of metal bars, the walls of the cages were made of

  force fields. That kept the animals safe inside, but gave the ship's

  passengers a perfect view.

  Zak saw several creatures he recognized. Five were exotic but harmless

  plant-eating species. But there was also a divto, a three-headed snake whose

  bite was poisonous. In another cage, a vornskr snarled at them. It was large,

  four-legged, and thick with muscles, and its long tail ended in sharp spikes.

  Next to the vornskr prowled a yayak, a dark-furred feline creature that moved

  so smoothly it seemed to be made of liquid. It hissed at them as they passed.

  "Nice pets," Zak said sarcastically.

  Dash shrugged. "Exotic animals are big attractions. Passengers on cruise

  ships eat this stuff up."
>
  At the end of the menagerie, Tash veered off the walkway and stepped onto

  a field of carefully tended grass.

  She laughed. "When I was here before, they had droids stationed all over

  the place, telling people not to walk on the grass."

  "There's one now." Zak pointed. A gardening droid rolled out from behind

  a tree. It was about a meter tall and moved on two treads like a tank. Its

  head was shaped like a mushroom full of holes the size of Zak's eyeball. He

  wondered what the holes were for.

  "And there's another," Dash added as another droid appeared. This one

  didn't have the hole-filled head, but it was equipped with four arms, each of

  which ended in a collection of work tools. The Arrandas had had a small garden

  on Alderaan, so Zak recognized the tools: a vibro-spade for digging, a piston-

  pounder for driving seeds into the ground, laser shears, and many other

  devices. Zak remembered them because, when he was a baby, his mother had