by Darrell Bain
* * * *
Travis and Sissy left the control room almost twenty-four hours after the crisis had begun. Effers had finally appeared in the control room to confirm the accuracy of the backup computers. His long black hair was lank and unruly from constantly running his fingers through it and his eyes were bleary with strain but his manner was upbeat.
“I've got the backups integrated into the main drive now and I've checked them ten ways from Sunday. You can depend on it whenever you start the impellers again.”
“Great,” Travis said. “Now if we knew where we were, we could be on our way again.”
Effers’ face fell. He had been expecting something like that but expecting wasn't the same as hearing it. “You don't know?”
Sissy answered him. “Not a clue and I've had our computer compare the sky with every one recorded on this run for the last five years. But thanks, Tim. At least if we ever do find some landmarks, Terrell can start the impellers.”
Travis noted that she didn't mention one drawback. If they hadn't found a landmark yet, the chances were vanishingly slim that they ever would. And until and unless they did, the only other recourse was to begin searching for a planet they could live on.
“Damn, I'm beat,” Travis remarked as soon as Effers had gone over the electronics in the control room and left with the emphatic proclamation that he was going to bed. He stood and stretched his cramped muscles for emphasis.
“Me, too, but I'm not sure I can sleep,” Sissy said. “I took a stimshot and it hasn't worn off yet.”
“Same here. Feel like a drink?”
“Let's get something to eat first or one tot of alcohol will knock me off my feet.” He signed the control room over to Brandon Masters, the logistics officer and they left together.
She turned down a hallway in the direction of the officers’ mess and Travis followed. At the mention of food he had begun feeling hunger pains himself and realized it had been almost a full day since he'd had anything solid. All the time in the control room he had had only coffee or tea, sweetened toward the end to give his blood sugar a boost.
The food line was closed but the bull cook was passing out sandwiches and snacks for those coming off duty. Travis glanced at his watch and realized it was four o'clock in the “morning” as judged by ship's time. He had gone on duty at eight the previous day. He took two sandwiches and a glass of reconstituted milk, the same as Sissy.
“Let's find a corner where we won't be bothered,” he suggested.
She nodded and followed him. He noticed glances thrown their way but thankfully no one joined them. Perhaps seeing their haggard faces and slumped shoulders made the others decide to leave them be. Nevertheless, he knew they were being watched for any signs of optimism and he tried to put a confident expression on his face. He was so tired, he had no idea whether he succeeded or not. He thought the stimshot must have worn off.
“God, I didn't realize how hungry I was,” Sissy said. “This actually tastes good.”
“Enjoy it while you can. We may have to begin rationing before too much longer.”
Sissy looked down at her sandwich then back up at Travis. “I hadn't thought of that, but you're right.”
He smiled gently at her reaction. “It's hard to imagine, isn't it? We just take food for granted on the ship, same as everything else. But how long will it last without our regular ports of call to replenish supplies?”
“I don't have any idea. Do you?”
“Not really, but I intend to ask Brandon Masters when I see him. He's a smart cookie. I suspect he's already looking at our inventory and deciding when the rationing begins.”
“It's probably not that bad, Travis. Even if we can't find our way home, there's surely an earth-type planet in range.”
“Probably, but remember, we aren't designed nor equipped for colonizing. It'll be a tough go, especially if the captain doesn't get his head out of his ass and provide some leadership soon.” He rubbed at his tired eyes.
“Mmm. Yeah. I suspect that the good captain isn't up to the challenge, though. Which eventually is going to leave it in your hands.”
Travis glanced around the mess to see if anyone was close enough to overhear. Fortunately, there wasn't. Few officers were there at that time of the morning. He took the last bite of his second sandwich, chased it with the last of his milk and raised his brows at Sissy. Her statement had startled him out of his tiredness, yet he had a hard time getting his mind around the thought of having to run the ship.
“You really think so?” was all he could manage in response, despite having seen Captain Gordon's reaction to their errant flight. Like rationing food apparently hadn't occurred to her, having to take over for the captaincy hadn't entered his mind, not even when Gordon didn't return to the control room after his outburst and orders for them to search for earth.
“Yes, but let's not talk about it here. If you're ready, let's go.” She was already getting up.
“Your place or mine?” Travis asked as they headed for the exit. He nodded to a junior officer going the other way then took Sissy's arm, stopping her progress.
She touched her forefinger to her chin. “How much of your liquor ration do you have saved?”
“Quite a lot. I don't drink much.”
“Then I'll go with you. I used up most of what I had at the last get-together with my reader's group.”
A few minutes later he was dialing drinks for both of them from the little autobar every officer's stateroom was equipped with. The bourbon might originate from recycled waste but it wasn't that bad so long as one didn't ponder too much over its origins.
“Thanks,” Sissy said. She brushed at a vagrant strand of blond hair that persisted in obstructing her vision.
“De nada.” He sat down beside her on the small couch that only senior officers’ cabins rated. He raised the glass and gazed at her over the rim. “What shall we drink to?”
“Luck sounds appropriate at the moment.”
“Agreed. Here's to luck. May we find our way home or if not, find a nice compatible planet to raise our kids on.”
Sissy touched his glass with his and they drank.
“Ah, that's good after a day like we've had,” he ventured. He could feel his body unwinding as the liquor spread through his system.
“Agreed. I wonder if Effers or anyone else has discovered what happened yet?”
“Not that I've heard of and you've been with me except for the quick little breaks we all had. And he didn't say anything when he came to the control room.”
“Yes, and I suppose it really doesn't matter at this point,” she observed and took another large sip from her glass before continuing. “At least he has the backups up and running so we can move when we decide where we're going. I left word for my gang to keep searching in shifts for all the G sequence stars where we might find a planet to live on. They're using the big scope and spectrographs and all the other instruments we could think of and I've got engineering fabricating a couple of others that might help. It's not going to be all that easy since we weren't set up for exploration.”
Travis nodded. That was the bad part of their predicament. Survey ships were well equipped to locate earth-type planets if they hadn't already been spotted by other means. Of course it always took an assessment team to explore in person to be sure. All too many worlds that were in the life zone of a star and had a favorable oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere still had things wrong that prohibited easy colonization, or any sort of colony at all. And if none could be spotted from where they were at present, then a random search was the only option. Probably the best bet would be to head for the nearest star cluster where distances from star to star weren't so great.
“Musing?” Sissy asked.
He looked up from where he had been staring into the bottom of his glass. Her pleasantly attractive face held a hint of concern for him.
He nodded. “Yeah, just that. And wondering when the captain is going to call a meeting of department hea
ds. And he needs to say something, an announcement of some sort to the crew and passengers, too.”
“I've been thinking of that myself. He shouldn't delay much longer. Rumors are already bound to be flying.”
“They are. I spoke with Brandon briefly by com while you were consulting with Terrell. He told me some of the tales are beginning to get wild. Like the ship is going to explode or we're out of power for the impellers and will be stranded in space forever. Or...”
She held up a hand. “No need to go any further. My gang is hearing the same thing, if not worse.”
Travis sipped at his drink and was surprised to see he had already finished it. He wondered if he could stand one more. He glanced at Sissy who was busy at the moment pulling another escaped lock of her long blond hair back into place and securing it with a pin she'd found somewhere. He started to say something then his personal com tickled. He touched his wrist.
“Callahan.” He listened a moment then said “I'm sorry, Cathy, I can't tell you a thing right now. No, I'm tired and I'm going to stay here and get some sleep. The captain may call me back at any time and I have to get some rest if I'm going to be any good to him.”
He listened some more then shook his head just as if she were in the room with him. “No, I'm just not up to it. I told you I needed to rest. I'll talk to you later.” He touched his wrist again and smiled lamely at Sissy.
“Problems?”
“No, not really. Cathy wants some reassurance and I'm just not up to listening to her, not today and maybe not ever again. It's bad enough having the captain wanting his hand held.”
“Oh?”
He got up and filled their glasses again before answering.
“It's not like we're engaged or even close to it. In fact ... never mind. Not your problem and not mine anymore, I think.”
She raised her brow.
He gave her a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Attitudes are already changing, aren't they?”
“Obviously. Why the break so soon, if that's what it was? It sounded cruel.”
“If we're stuck out here, I'd rather plan on spending my life with someone a bit more ... compatible.” He shrugged. “Cathy is okay, I guess, but...”
“You're having problems finishing your sentences. And could be you're too tired to think of the consequences.”
He sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”
“Compatible women are apt to be in short supply considering the ratio of men to women on the ship, or don't you think so?”
He set his glass on the side table and stared at her. He hadn't thought of that aspect of their situation at all.
“See anything you like?” Sissy said. She managed a grin despite how tired she was.
“Are you propositioning me?” The words were out of his mouth before he could even begin to call them back. He realized he had already begun to think of Sissy in a new light. Was that normal or a reaction to the stress? He didn't know.
“Mmm, could be. Compatible men might be in as short supply as women, despite the numbers. But maybe we ought to get some rest before continuing this conversation.”
“You're probably right, Sissy. I'm too damn tired to think straight.” He grinned crookedly. “And you might be, too, considering what you just said.”
“We'll see.”
He nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. The next thing he knew, it was two hours later. He had fallen asleep on the couch and Sissy was gone.
* * * *
Sandy rolled over in bed and met an obstruction. She blinked her eyes open. A thatch of red hair on the pillow next to her told her that one of the twins had stayed over. But which one? She momentarily had trouble remembering then it came to her. It was Jerry snoring gently beside her. She didn't know how they decided which one stayed and which went and at the time she'd consumed too much of their ethanol ration to care. Fortunately, she had thought to take a pill before finally dozing off and had given one to Jerry. It was one of the benefits of being friends with a pharmacy tech. Hangover remedies weren't standard issue but they were available to the right people who had the connections. She wondered what Tom was feeling like this morning and couldn't stifle a giggle as she sat up. It roused Jerry from his slumber.
“Mmph,” he mumbled as he came awake.
She grinned as his eyes brightened when he saw her. The sheet had slid down into her lap, leaving her bare above it.
“Do I remember you feeding me a hangover pill last night?”
“Uh huh.”
“Good.” He reached for her and she slid down into his embrace.
Later she propped on an elbow and asked, “How about calling Tom and see what's going on? Last night when he left, he said he'd try to find out something for us.”
“He said that? I guess I must have been concentrating so much on you, I don't remember.”
“Thank you, but yes, he did say that.” She punched him in the ribs. “Call, or I'll kick you out of bed.”
“Okay, okay. What time is it, by the way?”
“Early. You don't have to go yet.”
He tapped his wrist and a moment later was speaking with his twin. By the time he was finished he had sobered considerably.
“The ship is definitely lost and according to rumor, no chance of finding a way home. Cap'n Gordon is secluded. The surgeon called on him twice last night. No good guess about what's wrong but naturally the scuttlebutt is going wild.”
“He's probably scared shitless, just like the rest of us,” Sandy ventured.
“I wouldn't argue. He's not the kind of man who's good in a crisis. Not that a PFC in the army has any contact with him but my CO does and the CO's chief clerk is one of my chess partners, who in turn is inclined to talk. According to him, Major Grindstaff thinks Captain Gordon is a lightweight and a left wingnut besides.”
“Major? I thought Grindstaff was a captain.”
“Courtesy rank. Can't have two captains in a ship.” Jerry slid out of bed and began hunting for his underwear.
“I guess I'd better get dressed, too, if I want breakfast,” Sandy said. She began hunting, too, while wondering about the future. She gave Jerry a long enthusiastic kiss and embrace before he left, a promise of more to come. Or maybe with Tom next. She wondered if he'd mind.
* * * *
Travis wasn't sure he was doing the right thing, but after a couple hours rest and with Captain Gordon still missing from the control room, he decided to act. He thought for a moment and decided his best way to start would be to ask the commanding officer of the army company being transported to Bonnsport to meet him in his cabin for lunch. The readiness with which he accepted the invitation made Travis feel just a bit better although still uneasy. He knew he was treading on very insecure ground but something had to be done, and soon, before the ship erupted into chaos.
Once they were seated and after the steward had served their meal and departed, Travis opened the conversation.
“I suppose some people could construe us meeting like this as a conspiracy,” he said, eyeing the military man in light of several events that might occur in the future. They weren't well acquainted but from the few times they'd talked, he thought William Grindstaff had his feet pretty well on the ground. He was fairly young for his rank and command, especially in view of having taken time off from the military for an advanced degree in mechanical engineering, or so he'd said.
“True, but I won't worry about it if you don't. Neither of us is doing anything wrong. And I take it you still haven't seen your captain?”
“Right,” Travis confirmed with hidden mirth at the opposite man's hillbilly accent, reflecting his Appalachian Mountain origin. It didn't fit his stern features nor the worry he sensed in Grindstaff's countenance. “The surgeon reported to his cabin twice during the night but I have no idea what took place. It could have just been a request for a sleeping pill.”
“I rather doubt that, not when he's been missing from the control room for so long. And didn't he leave right after
a contretemps of sorts?” Grindstaff raised his brow so minutely Travis might not have noticed had he not been looking directly at the officer.
“Word spreads fast. Yes, almost immediately after we discovered we were way off course, a long way off, Sissy shut down the drive. As soon as Gordon arrived at the control room he began making accusations, or more accurately, trying to find someone he could put the blame on for the fried computer.” He remembered the scene vividly and how sick it made him to see a Captain acting in that fashion.
“And it was the computer that was the source of our problems?”
“Absolutely,” he said and nodded. “Timothy Effers told us a whole quadrant of circuit boards went down and in turn affected two other quadrants, which in turn had the inconstants doing things they shouldn't have but since the computer was down, it didn't show. And the really bad part is that the backups neither sounded an alarm nor kicked in like they should have when the main computer screwed up.” He spread his hands to express his frustration at the lack of an explanation.