Outward Borne

by R. J. Weinkam

  The Farside ObLaDas and the People who were working there got their food from the Filim wing antimod, but this did not make her feel any safer. There was no way to keep those food production facilities completely isolated for something as illusive as a single molecule. Some droplets or dust particles could have gotten into her system, or anyone’s over the past weeks, or maybe they were blown through the air circulation system. No filter would stop every molecule, and it would only take one. CamBi trudged through the data. She knew about the isolation. There was no hurry to tell YuLon. She sat dejected, trying to think of what to do, what to say. She had wanted this mission to succeed, but now it might be over.

  MaxNi9 had been monitoring CamBi's findings and the developments in the Farside habitats ever since YuLon told him about the Hucs’ symptoms. Once CamBi identified the Replicide variant, he called in Buth CaMa for his opinion on the problem, not that there was any doubt about the ultimate fate of the Farside peoples.

  “The entire Farside food chain has been infected,” Buth said without looking at MaxNi9. He was already calling up the ship’s material transfer records to double-check if anything at all had been moved out of that arm. So far only airflow has occurred, according to the records at least. Water pipes had been installed, but were not yet operational. Foodstuffs and other materials were still being transported, but all of these were in containers that were shipped into, not out of the Farside. “The rest of the ship should be safe, but it is such a serious threat I think we should isolate the Farside arm right now. I would not want to waste any time here.”

  MaxNi9 was already thinking through a plan to do just that. There were six human work crews available, but the job would not require that many. “Have four teams report to the Filim hub,” Buth advised, “we do not need to go into an explanation, no sense setting off a lot of speculation.”

  Chapter 19 Containment

  MuiMi smiled at Eric when she saw Tomat stagger a bit on his way through the doorway of the Portal Cafe. MuiMi waved at Verna to set out another plate. “Have a late night, Tot?” she teased, knowing full well that he had not.

  “How did you know?” he answered, meaning he hadn’t gotten to bed at lights-down as he would have liked. “You, of course, restricted yourself to a single party and actually partook of sleep.” He said looking sidewise at her grinning, rather pretty face.

  MuiMi was still in a state of high excitement following her recent addition to the work crew. Her father was the famous Aubry Umballa, the most senior and respected exo-craft crew leader, and she reveled in the respect she gained by being chosen to join a construction team. “I went dancing with the girls, Tot. If you wish, we will bring you along tonight.”

  In good spirits, they picked up their lunch, gave Verna a farewell kiss, and run to catch the trans-arm shuttle. The crew was scheduled to work in the Farside module to repair some construction damage in an unoccupied habitat. Some wall units were not linked together as they ought to be. The OLDies had decided that they would rather have a work crew fix the problem than have the robots replace the units, but it was not to be. The crew no sooner arrived at the construction site than they were called back to the Farside hub where they were equipped to find and fix some unspecified leak in the LabislassLee habitat. These things happened.

  “What do you know about the leak so far,” Eric asked his All-1. “Is there an air pressure leak or a vent?” He stood still flexing his fingers nervously, expecting a response, but nothing came. Apparently, they did not know much, but for some reason the ObLaDas, or maybe the LabislassLees, thought there might be one and an important one at that. None of the crew liked the sound of silence. All of this emergency running around and the pile of probes that they were given, all different kinds, implied that something hazardous was flying around. Perhaps it was too dangerous to talk about.

  “Well, let’s get started,” Eric grumbled, “they may be a little more forthcoming by the time we get there.” None of the crew was worried about any leaking hazards, for they were all self-contained. “Can you send over some transport climbabouts?” He winked at MuiMi. “We might as well take advantage of this so-called emergency to save some work. This might take all day.”

  Aubry Umballa, MuiMi’s father, had been working in a construction crew for thirty-five of his fifty years. He was proud of his current team, Dunsten, Childeric and Henrik, and their skill at working outside of the ship. It was an art, he felt, to work in the harsh weightless environment and the cumbersome space suits. He had not lost a team member in almost ten years while working under conditions where a mistimed jump, or an unnoticed sharp edge, could cause a fast, painful death.

  Aubry and Dunsten, a young, short, wiry version of the tall, muscular Aubry, were sitting down for a dinner of wheat bread (or so it was called) and fried sausage chips (or so it was, of a sort). It was the beginning of their off day when the work call sounded. “What’s that about? Can’t likely be for us, can it?”

  Dunsten shrugged, “You stay put and I'll go see to it.” He said as he walked through the deep green hallway to the upper level assembly room. Two of Radnar’s long-eared red racers ran past, one on each side. Dunsten turned to wait for Radnar to catch up. Rad worked in the communications room and usually knew what was happening. “How goes it, any word on this one?”

  “Not a whisper, my friend. Didn’t hear of anything broken that can’t be fixed. MuiMi was in yesterday. She said that there is a bit of commotion in the Farside arm after a couple of aliens had kicked off. Maybe that’s it. She called in this morning and said they had been pulled off a repair project to check for leaks in one of the habitats. Maybe they need more help, think so?”

  “That little girl is doing all right. It seemed only yesterday that she was riding around on Big Muff’s back,” said Dunsten.

  Dunsten and Radnar stood in the back of the Communications Center watching the video wall as their ObLaDa controller, Buth CaMa, detailed the new work orders. Dunsten was surprised to hear that his team had been assigned work on an inside job; four crews were being called up for this project. It must be a big job or something urgent to start so late in the day.

  Aubry's crew was told to report to the Farside bulkhead and the main services conduit where their equipment and instructions would be waiting. After a brief shuttle delay, they made it to the bulkhead in good time, where they were instructed to isolate the Farside bulkhead by physically breaking the utility connections inside the two-meter wide main services tube.

  “I don't like the feel of all this,” Aubry said. “Henrik, can you contact some of the other crews and see what they are doing, but don't suggest there is a problem. Pick up some fresh air tanks, this job will take a while.” He did not need to mention that his concern for MuiMi was growing rapidly. They were all thinking the same thing. If the Farside arm was going to be closed off, they would have to get her and her crew out of there first.

  Henrik pushed his way out of the crowded service tube and went toward the freight entry doors where another crew was at work. They were checking the seals on the huge main passage door and preparing to disable its locking mechanism. They had come with two other crews, each of which was closing off some part of the bulkhead. Henrik spotted two flybots on his way back to the main conduit. It was unusual to see them on the bridge, because they had trouble maneuvering in that weightless area and its thin air. He walked past the entry and waited for them to pass out of sight. Henrik quickly knocked on the panel and waited for Childeric to open up. “They are permanently sealing the area, no doubt about that. It will be shut off and air tight by tomorrow night, no doubt about that either. The OLDies are keeping an eye out.”

  Aubry put down his tube cutter and sat back against the curved wall. It was late already; they might not have much time left. He pulled out his All-1 and called Radnar. “Rad, has MuiMi called in? Are they back yet?”

  “She did, she called an hour ago. It seems they were told to stay in the Farside overnight, some kind of emergency
.”

  “Is that final, overnight? Did they say where they are working, where they are stationed?”

  “Eric said they had checked for leaks in the LabislassLee habitat all day, but MuiMi said they were in the hub, close to the shuttle interchange when she called an hour ago. I don't know where they will spend the night exactly. Is there a problem, Aubry? She did not say.”

  “No, not at all. I just wanted to know if she was coming back for dinner. Merwyn said it was planned,” he answered, fully aware that the ObLaDas would be monitoring the call.

  “We may have caught a break,” Aubry said to Henrik, “If they are staying at the pivot point. We may be able to contact them and get them out before it is too late.”

  “Without the OLDies knowing about it,” Childeric added, as he moved closer to the bulkhead. He reached out to touch the small door that was set into that protective wall when a sudden noise rang out. Loud, close by. “What the heck.” Childeric mumbled as he jerked his hand away. He looked toward Aubry, and they both turned to see Dunsten banging on the vent pipe.

  “Hey, what!” they both said at the same time, but Dunsten was intently rapping away. TAP tap, TAP TAP, tap. He kept repeating the same pattern, stopping every few moments to listen, but there was no response. He kept this up for several minutes.

  ‘OK, what's this about?” Aubry asked.

  ‘It's our school code,” he answered. “MuiMi is sure to remember it. It has not been that long since we were in academy together.’

  ‘Do they still do that?” asked Aubry. “I thought you young people were too sophisticated for games like that.” Dunsten ignored the quip.

  ‘I am going to call her direct,” Aubry said while taking out his All-1. Direct calls between All-1s were not allowed, everything was supposed to go through Central Communications, but it might work if they were close enough. It did not. All local communications were being jammed.

  He could not know, but MuiMi was trying to contact him at the exact same time. None of her crew was happy about being confined in the Farside arm overnight, MuiMi most of all. She tried to call Central as they were making their way over to the restbox. She had plans for the night, good plans, and wanted to tell her friends that she would not be able to make the party, but all links were cut off. This was just one more question for the pile on that strange day. Being told to break for the evening, but not return home was one other. What kind of leisurely emergency was this anyway?

  Tomat took out some of his frustrations. He yanked open the restbox door. It was nothing less than a small, metal room with an airtight cover. He swung himself forcefully feet first through the small, round entry, where he kicked an empty storage bin that someone had left to float loose in the chamber. The bin went banging around, repeatedly smashing against the metal walls.

  “Get in there and catch that thing before it breaks everything in the place,” Eric yelled into his helmet phone. MuiMi did not want to deal with anything more that day. She pulled herself into one of the bunks, abandoning the prep work to the men. Eric knew her moods and did not comment on this breach of manners. He sealed off the portal and opened the pressurization valve as stale air hissed into the chamber. MuiMi was just going to wait there until the too-small box pressured up and she could get out of her suit. Finally, the warning light clicked off and she could lie back and rest. It was good to hear quiet after hours in that hissing, buzzing coverall.

  Dunsten tried again and again, tapping out their welcoming code, but without success. His frustration grew, as it seemed that they had run out of options. Childeric wanted to break into the Farside arm and look for them, but that was such a long shot. Even if they avoided being detected, which was not likely, they would probably end up being locked in as well. Time was running out. Aubry had already received a message to return to the People’s habitat for the night. Dunsten hit his wrench against the pipes in anger and one last time, BAM Bam, BAM BAM, bam, as hard as he could.

  MuiMi's eyes flew open. What? She was sure she heard a sound. Was it the incessant ship creaking? No. She could not help but smile, it had been years since she heard the classes’ signal code. There is not much privacy for young people growing up in the confined human habitat. All electronic communication was recorded, and most spoken conversations were picked up on some listening device, if anyone were interested in listening, so for ages past the twenty-or-so classmates that went through academy together had made up their own private code. All kinds of secret plans and warnings could be sent a considerable distance by tapping on the floor next to an air vent, especially at night when sounds carried so well.

  “Give me the tool box,” she told Tomat. Pulling out a hammer, she tapped out her answer code and waited. Yes, she got a response. “It is Dunsten,” she called out. “There is some kind of problem.” She listened carefully, gave brief answers, as her concern grew. Her lips pressed into a straight line, she turned to her team. “That was my father's crew. They were called out with four others to seal off the Farside bulkhead. There was no explanation as to why, but the job will be finished by tomorrow afternoon. They want us to get out now.”

  “We can make it, it is not far from here. If we worked our way through the ceiling supports we could avoid the surveillance cameras, but we need a way through the bulkhead,” said Eric, already starting to pack up. “I doubt the door will be open.”

  Dunsten smiled at Aubry, who visibly sighed with relief. “They are not far away, in a restbox in the hub. I know the one. We have a chance”

  Childeric had already turned and made his way over to the small pass-through door within the service tube. He opened the hinge-box and pulled out the circuit. An alarm sounded. They started receiving calls within seconds.

  “No, no,” Aubry explained. “We did not open the Farside door. We are disconnecting the electrical feeds and had to shut down for a minute. No. Do not worry, there was no breach of the seal.” He was waving his hands in the air as if he was holding them at bay.

  All the while, Childeric was busy shorting pins to bypass the alarm, as soon as he finished, the klaxon stopped abruptly. They had a way for MuiMi's crew to get through the bulkhead. Things were looking up when Aubry received a priority call. They were ordered to return to the Filim module. Immediately!

  Aubry reacted quickly. He informed the Ship that his crew needed to stay for another half hour. It was unsafe to leave the power lines loose, he claimed. The Ship had started to protest when Aubry cut it off. He and Eric rushed to the supply depot. They ducked into the storage room, grabbed some fresh air tanks, and launched them in the direction of the service tube port. They took some electrical connectors and made a show of bringing them to the job. Eric ‘accidentally’ smashed the flybot that was monitoring their movements, and Aubry hustled the air harnesses into the big tube.

  At the same time, Dunsten learned of another problem. MuiMi signaled that their air tanks were gone; they had been taken away to be replenished. The three crewmates had only the small bottle from the emergency kit.

  Dunsten tapped out word to MuiMi. Three air tanks were next to the service pass-through. They could use that door without an alarm, but they must move quickly. He told her that they had been ordered to leave. It was likely that the ObLaDas would have something come out to check their work, but they would keep the service tube closed off.

  It was not far from the restbox to the bulkhead, but the crew would need to move up into the ceiling beams and through the maze of supporting girders. It would take a minimum of five minutes MuiMi figured. Then they had to get into the service tube. Who knew where the entry might be. “I could take the air bottle and bring back the harnesses,” she said, but the crew decided it would take too long, and they would surely be seen making trips back and forth from where they were not supposed to be. There was no choice but to share the little air bottle and go together. Tomat and Eric sorted through the tools looking for whatever they might need to get into the big pipe, and something that might serve as a weapon wo
uld not hurt.

  One by one, the crew moved out of the restbox and into the space between the wall and an L-shaped support beam. One jump and they rose to the rafters of the heavily supported ceiling. MuiMi carried the air bottle slung over one shoulder with the mouthpiece hanging loose. After some debate, they left their bulky isolation suits behind and wore only tight fitting coveralls. The thin fabric would provide little relief against the cold, but at least they could move easily. The little green bottle should have had enough oxygen for at least ten minutes, enough time to get safely to the bulkhead, but its pressure was low. This one was not full, maybe the valve leaked, who knows how long it had sat there. Three minutes later, they were in sight of the service conduit. Tomat got there first and began moving along its length to find an opening. Nothing. They were still minutes away from the bulkhead. If they went that way and did not find an access door, they might not have time get back to the restbox. They looked at each other in silent agreement and moved toward the massive steel wall.

  Tomat stopped and waved them over. He had found the opening a short distance from the bulkhead, an opening trussed up with a dozen clamps. Eric and Tomat pulled out their tools and set to work. MuiMi gave Tot some air, and then went to Eric. Eric was almost out of breath. When he put his mouth to the piece, his eyes flew wide. There was no more. He panicked and dropped his spanner, which slowly drifted away striking some distant dark wall. Tomat took a quick glance at MuiMi and redoubled his efforts to get into the tube. A minute later, he had the lid off. There was no way to seal it up again, so they let it drift away and hurried into the dark tunnel. Once there, they made quick progress to the small bulkhead door. Tot squeezed his eyes shut and tore it open. He was expecting the alarm to sound, but Childeric had done his work well and there was no alert, only a blast of bridge air, warmer but with little oxygen. Tot grabbed the gasping Eric and MuiMi by their collars and pushed them through the door while holding onto the frame for leverage. Eric franticly looked around. His pale face whitened even more. There were no air tanks in sight. He turned to MuiMi and passed out. The air harnesses were a few meters along the tube, wedged against the conduit wall and some pipes to keep them from drifting away. MuiMi shoved two of the units toward Tomat and nodded toward Eric as her vision went dark. Tomat saw her fade away and stopped his rush toward Eric. He shoved the air supply into her mouth and turned it on. Eric didn't look good. It had been minutes since he passed out. Tomat started working to get him breathing. MuiMi came to with a jerk. She hardly knew what happened. She woke to find herself in a different position than her body expected, but quickly came around.