Stranded on Haven

by William Zellmann

  “You might also use your tablet to research the term ‘electronics’. As best I understand it, it refers to very small electrical circuits. In fact, I’m told that ‘electronics’ marked the real beginning of modern technology.”

  Lisa and I had talked a lot about development on Ourhome, and I was bursting with dozens of things I wanted to tell Ada. Luckily, though, there was a gentle knock on the door, interrupting the flood I was about to unleash. After a moment, I was relieved. I couldn’t afford to give Westin a big head start over the other nations; I’d already said too much.

  Ada sighed. “That means Doctor Canva has arrived, so I suppose our chat must end. I’m really sorry. Jerd. I’d have liked to talk to you for hours.”

  Opening the door for Ollie and Turlow, of course, unleashed the flood of bodyguards. There were my two, of course, Terry escorting Ollie, George Cass, and a full half-dozen of Ada’s Presidential Guard, whose noses seemed to be out of joint over being shooed from the room earlier.

  And, of course, Ada was presidential again, the casual tomboy once again the gracious chief executive as she greeted Ollie and Turlow. For a moment, I was worried that Turlow would faint when he was introduced to her. And to me, for that matter.

  Turlow was almost a caricature of the lab-confined scientist. In his mid-thirties, I guessed, though his mannerisms were those of a much younger man He was small, even skinnier than me, to the point of emaciation, highly introverted, and very much out of his element here. He kept blushing every time he met someone, and Heidi and Becky had him tongue-tied. His eyes were wide when we were introduced, and as I mentioned, they were big as saucers when he was introduced to Ada, and he swayed dangerously. Ollie hurried up and distracted both the president and the scientist with hearty banter, and avoided an embarrassing situation.

  But the pleasant visit was over; it was again a state function, and distant politeness reigned, though Ada threw me a wink as we shook hands formally. She eyed my bodyguards. “You be careful, young man,” she said. “You are the most important man on the planet now, and our future depends upon you and your remarkable resources.”

  She turned to Ollie and Turlow. “And you gentlemen are nearly as important. I’m sure you will do your best to get us back to the point where we can build our own starships.”

  Ollie smiled graciously and bowed over her hand. “We will certainly do our best, Madame President,” he said. “But at the moment, I fear we are working to learn how to live on the ones we have.” But Turlow straightened and puffed out his chest, nodding firmly, his lips in a determined line. Turlow hadn’t said a word during the entire encounter, but Ada seemed familiar with the type; she ignored his tongue-tied stammering and was gracious and tactful.

  Surprisingly, Turlow was barely interested in the gig or its flight. All the way back to the Zone, he muttered to Ollie, apparently too embarrassed to talk with the rest of us. It wasn’t hard to guess the subject of his mumbling, though. It was near-hero-worship of Ada Curran. Finally, Ollie had to remind him that he no longer worked for Westin University, or indeed for Westin at all, but for the entire planet, and that if he couldn’t accept that, perhaps he’d better let Ollie buy him an airship ticket back to Tarrant.

  Turlow reddened at this mild dressing-down, and spent the rest of the flight huddled in his seat, pouting.

  But once we arrived and the conversation turned to the ships and atmosphere farms, he forgot his nervousness and his introversion, and was an active and enthusiastic participant.

  We all quickly agreed that we could accomplish nothing on the ground. Turlow (no one ever used his first name, assuming he had one) may not have been excited about travelling halfway across East Continent in only a few hours, but the prospect of going into space, of actually boarding Adventurer, was a different matter. As Ollie tried to help him contain his excitement, Heidi motioned me aside. “How long do you expect to remain in space this time, sire?” she asked.

  I frowned. “Several days at least, and maybe weeks,” I replied. “Until we can get the decontam and hydroponics problems solved, there’s no real need to come back down. Ollie can’t start hiring people until we can get them aboard and until they can breathe when they get there.”

  Heidi nodded. “Then, would you mind if I took a few days off? You’re beyond the risk of threats in orbit.”

  I suddenly realized that Heidi had been working nonstop for me for over a month. “Oh, gods. Heidi, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in this project that I didn’t even think …”

  She shook her head. “No, that’s no problem. I like working for you, and I like the work. When you’re not making me stand around waiting rooms, that is!” A wide smile took the sting from her words. “But now,” she continued, “I have some business.”

  “Of course, Heidi, of course,” I hurried to assure her. “Come with me.” I led her to my office, where I took out the Bosun’s small bag of diamonds. “You know I haven’t got much Haven currency, yet.” I handed her a medium-sized stone. “I don’t know the value of diamonds on Haven, either. But take this stone. Consider it a bonus.”

  Her eyes widened and she gasped. “Diamonds? Diamonds are the most precious stones there are!” She looked closely at the one I’d given her. “And there aren’t more than six people on Haven who can cut one like this.” She straightened. “I can’t accept this, sire. It’s worth thousands in any currency on the planet.” She stuck out her hand to return it, but I just shook my head.

  “It’s yours, Heidi. If you want to convert it to cash, do it. If you want to have it mounted and wear it, do it. I, uh, ‘inherited’ it, so it didn’t cost me anything.” I paused, thinking. “In fact, you can do me a favor. I’m going to continue to need local currency, and it’s going to be a while before I start getting any cash from this project. Take this bag with you.

  “I don’t know what kind of connections you have, legal or otherwise,” I continued, “but I know I have none, and there’s no chance I’ll be able to make any. See what you can do with the gems. Black market, maybe. Or trickle them into the legal market one by one. Whatever’s possible.”

  She took the bag slowly, peered into it. She gasped again. “There must be hundreds of carats here,” she said. “Are you sure you want to trust me with this?”

  I nodded. “Heidi, I’ve already trusted you with my life. Surely I can trust you with a bag of shiny rocks.”

  Her expression became determined, and her lips firmed up. “I may need a few extra days,” she said. “But I know some people … yes.” She grinned. “Get ready to become a millionaire, sire. You won’t even need the money from my bra deal.”

  I waved her to silence. “Shhhh! Please, Don’t say the ‘M’ word, Heidi. I’m just a slum rat. I can’t count that high.” I sighed. “If it does come to that much, we’ll have to find ways to hide it. I don’t want anyone to know I’m rich. If I am. Heidi,” I continued, “just so you understand. I’m not fond of those stones, I don’t even like having them. They’re a murderer’s loot, and the sooner I get rid of them, the better.

  “As for your bra deal, that will be something I can be proud of. If you need some extra funding, I might be able to help.”

  Heidi closed the bag. “I’ll see what I can do.” she headed off to get ready. Tomorrow morning she would board a supply airship to Firstlanding. I watched her walk away with a sudden sense of loss. I had gotten used to her comforting presence beside me. It felt odd to know that she would not be there.

  But I had my own things to do. Lisa had used Adventurer's schematics to design prefabricated sections of an airlock room, actually just a short tunnel that would interface with Adventurer's main lock and could be transported on the largest workboat. I passed the specs to Ollie, who used his contacts from his days at the University of New Home to have them manufactured. While waiting for them to be made, Ollie's contacts helped him find construction workers willing to work in space. Oh, Ollie had hundreds, perhaps thousands of applications, so volunteers w
ere no problem. The contacts, though, helped him select the good, competent workers and avoid those who might be troublesome.

  We made certain that every applicant hired was aware of the strict decontam requirements. The hold would have to be pressurized to permit installation of the airlock room, and the air used would have to be recycled through Adventurer's tanks. I was unwilling to take any chances, and this time, Ollie agreed. For their first trip into space, the workers would undergo full decontam, including stripping naked. Once decontammed, of course, there would be no need to do so again, unless they returned to Haven.

  Feeding and housing the 20-man work crew was a bit complicated. Adventurer's dorms were in the unpressurized parts of the ship, and the parts that were accessible, the officers' staterooms, didn't provide sufficient security against spying or sabotage. Security was causing me many sleepless nights. I had no reliable way to screen out spies and saboteurs sent by governments, or even extremist nuts opposed to our cause. We were contracting with a New Home security company to run background checks to eliminate the most obvious threats, of course. But I doubted those would detect covers set by any national security agency. Duke Richard's people, for instance.

  I was confident that I had good relations with President Curran of Westin and President Runtz of Cellia, but asking either of them for help would provoke an obvious and almost irresistible urge to plant spies and even, if my trust was misplaced, saboteurs, into the work crew.

  Chapter 9

  I resisted the idea for as long as I could, but I finally admitted that the workers would have to stay aboard Startrader. I put them in the Underway crew's bunkroom on Deck 2, with Lisa watching their every move. It was crowded, but it was the best I could do. We eventually had to replace four of the workers and return them to Haven to report to their real bosses.

  Adventurer's food processing machinery was in the unpressurized section of her hull, and would require maintenance even when life support was restored. So, Startrader had to provide and prepare the meals. Breakfast and dinner were served aboard Startrader, before and after their transportation to Adventurer. Lunch was prepared by Startrader and transported to Adventurer. The old ship had carried 50 officers, so her wardroom easily accommodated the workers, and was in the pressurized area.

  But working in space was difficult for the workers. Adventurer was maintaining normal gravity in the hold, but this meant that large, heavy materials had to be handled. Unfortunately, heavy cargo handling equipment was never expected to be needed in space, where all heavy work took place in zero-gee. So what material handling equipment was left aboard was stored with other heavy machinery on the lower decks, to be offloaded after the starship was grounded.

  I sent the robots to help, but the workers were so frightened and distracted by them that injuries from carelessness were frequent at first. I moved Startrader's lifeboat nearby, and had robots standing by to transport patients to Adventurer's med bay if necessary. After a few days, though, the workers became used to the presence of the 'bots, and the help they provided, and, two weeks after the sections were transported, Adventurer's airlock room was complete, and the workers could be returned to the planet. My relief was so obvious that Ollie broke into open laughter.

  Lisa was in charge of making Adventurer aware of the modifications and their use and maintenance. Of course, the old ship's comp was programmed to accept such changes easily, and finally, visitors could keep their clothes on, to the great relief of the locals.

  The simplified decontam procedures also brought with them another problem. Toray, the Chancellor, began taking advantage of them to begin running tours for VIP's. On each such trip, I was describing our efforts and plans to both Toray and the VIP's, and it appeared that Toray began to get the message, and appreciate the sheer size of the ship and the project. He also became less confrontational with me, which worried me. As Ollie reminded me, Toray had not, and never would, forgive me for his early humiliation. I, of course, was well aware of that fact, and Toray's newfound civility worried me.

  And of course, Chancellor Toray would be delighted to help his friend and benefactor, Duke Richard, in any way possible; such as keeping him informed of my whereabouts and anticipated travel. Heidi was a wonderful bodyguard, but any bodyguard could be overcome, if someone was willing to accept a few casualties in the process. And I had a feeling that Duke Richard would be willing.

  I really wanted a different work crew to restore the atmosphere plant. For one thing, the job wouldn't require construction skills or experience. For another, I was concerned about spies and saboteurs, and changing the crews only seemed like elementary security. Ollie agreed. He is a biologist, after all, and was well aware that it would be entirely too easy to poison the atmosphere plant. According to Lisa, it was even possible to do so in such a way as to use the plant to spread certain airborne poisons that are designed to pass through older filtration systems into life support and kill all aboard. Both Ollie and I doubted that the technology and knowledge were available on Haven, but why take the chance?

  It was also going to be hard, physical labor, and much of it in spacesuits. Plants can't be shut off like mechanisms. When Adventurer underwent emergency shutdown, the flow of nutrients was cut off, as was life support. But even in the absence of light, some of the plants continued to grow until the nutrients and the carbon dioxide in the air were exhausted. Since the hydroponics bay was isolated from the main ship's atmosphere, and sealed by airlocks, we found that there was actually an oxygen-rich, almost explosive, atmosphere in the compartment. So, the hydroponics deck was a jungle of dead plants, preserved in mid-decay by the cold of space, in an atmosphere in which those dead plants could trigger fire or even explosion.

  Our first job was to pump out the dangerous 'atmosphere', and draw the deck down to a near-vacuum. I hated wasting perfectly good oxy to space, but Lisa convinced me that filtering out the oxygen would be a major project, and that the 'atmosphere' might even be contaminated. she suggested that we draw the atmosphere down to the normal content of breathing mix, filter that smaller amount, and add nitrogen, CO2 and trace elements to recreate 'breathing mix'.

  I was still doubtful, though. Her talk of possible contamination haunted me. If people began dying aboard Adventurer, we would have a serious public relations problem. So, while we eventually followed Lisa's idea, I still insisted that all workers become qualified with spacesuits, and for awhile, I actually made them wear the suits, sans helmets, while working. Their protests were loud and long. Finally, Ollie suggested a compromise.

  "Whether or not it's safe to breathe, " he said, "there is a pressurized atmosphere present. Let's put the men in simple isolation suits. they can still breathe air from tanks, but they don't have to wear twenty kilos of space suit."

  I remembered the isolation suits. I'd worn one while dealing with the bodies of my former crewmates. They were thin plas, designed for biological threats. They weighed less than a kilo in Haven's gravity, and the helmet and air tank added only two more kilos. They also featured thin plas gloves that permitted intricate manipulation. I readily agreed; I know how hard it is to work in a spacesuit. The isolation suits speeded the work considerably, despite the fact that the workers still had to wear spacesuits to and from the Hydroponics deck.

  Removing the dead plants and cleaning the tanks were no simple tasks, either. The plants were largely desiccated and fragile; in fact, many simply turned to powder at a touch. But they still had to be gathered up and taken out through one of the deck's eight airlocks. The locks were larger than simple personnel locks, but smaller than most large cargo locks. They were actually mirror images of the room we'd built for decontam in the landing bay, though smaller. Since it was essential that the atmosphere of the hydroponics deck not be contaminated, even when the ship was new, it was necessary for the air crew to work in isolation suits. This, of course, meant that the airlock must include a changing room. Our use was slightly complicated by the necessity to change twice. We had to c
hange from spacesuit to isolation suit before entering, and to leave, had to change back from isolation suit to spacesuit. The airlocks were definitely the choke point; the constant lines of workers at each lock started shortly after work began in the morning, and never shortened much before quitting time.

  After more than a month, though, the cavernous deck was emptied, and the hectares of tanks cleaned to my (and Lisa's) satisfaction. Chemicals were shipped up to make up the nutrient solutions, under the direction of Ollie and Turlow. Both of the locals had been frantically studying all the available information on hydroponics, and both were fascinated to see their studies put to immediate use. Turlow, of course, was to actually take over control of the hydroponics installation, but Ollie was a biologist; there was no way he would permit himself to be denied this opportunity for hands-on research.

  It was very nearly the last thing he did. We were "getting dressed" in our spacesuits to leave the hydroponics plant when Ollie collapsed in mid-word, a puzzled look on his face. I checked for a pulse in his neck, found one, fast and thready. Luckily, we were not alone, and several of the work crew helped me seal his suit and helmet while calling Lisa to send 'bots to transport him to the lifeboat. We began carrying him toward the landing bay, and were soon met by four 'bots who took him in hand and carried him at a running pace for a man. I know; I was the one running. I'd considered moving him to Adventurer's much closer med bay, but though it was larger and more complete than Startrader's, its nano had long ago expired, and I was certain that old-fashioned surgery would not be enough to save Ollie. Surgery is rare nowadays, and mostly restricted to emergency use. Luckily, we'd kept Startrader's lifeboat aboard Adventurer while construction was ongoing, since Startrader's nano was up-to-date and potent.