Slowly the cat backed up. The drone followed. The cat stopped and so did the drone. The cat lunged towards the drone and the drone moved away. No matter what the cat did, the drone did the same, always keeping the same distance from the cat.
Just then, a voice said, “Sir, your heart rate is two hundred and forty. You have exceeded your target heart rate.”
This noise was coming from the drone. So, thought the cat, a bird that sounds human. How puzzling.
The cat was trying to determine if he could jump up high enough to catch this bird. Since escaping from the container in Engineering, he hadn’t had a meal; in the garden, he had eagerly sipped some water, but that was it.
The cat crouched even closer to the deck; the drone followed. With his prey in range, the cat sprang into the air to catch the bird. At exactly the same time, Leea jumped onto the track and only missed the cat’s tail by inches. The cat grabbed onto the bottom of the quadcopter with his front paws. They slipped slightly, but his razor-sharp claws dug into the drone’s plastic fuselage and held firm.
The drone banked left and right violently, its center-of-axis sensors fighting to stabilize it. But each time it tried to correct its flight, the cat would swing his body, trying to get the bird to fall.
With a yell, Leea lunged at the cat. Looking down, the cat saw Leea and moved his body out of the way, which destabilized the drone again.
In anger, Leea yelled again at the cat. It was actually quite comical to watch. Both Brooke and the barmaid had large, unconcealed grins on their faces.
Leea was getting madder and madder. Her face was red from chasing the drone and cat around the track. Adding insult to injury, Brooke yelled down, “Do you need some milk? Maybe you need to say ‘Here, kitty kitty.’”
Just then, the drone said, “Your heart rate is one hundred and eighty. I recommend you rest.”
“Fuck you!” yelled Leea. And with that, she jumped straight up and grabbed the cat.
There was a terrible scream of fury from Leea as the cat and drone turned on her. The cat raked Leea’s face with the claws on his hind legs. When she shoved the cat away, the drone became unstable and banked away, which caused all four of its rotors to angle down towards Leea’s head. When it tried to right itself, the drone came back toward Leea, cutting her hair off in the front and nicking her scalp.
It only took a second, but Leea’s face was instantly covered in blood. She curled up and wrapped her arms around her head in a defensive manner.
The cat was still hanging on by his two front paws, piloting the drone by shifting his weight. Soon the cat and drone flew out of sight through the stainless steel doors of the gym.
“Help me!” cried Leea. “That bitch tried to kill me again!”
Chapter Twenty
“Please hold Libby still,” said Pickle to Susanna. “This learning visor was made for a four year old, not an infant.”
Pulling the straps gently around Libby’s head, Pickle trimmed them and adjusted the visor. Libby didn’t like it and was trying to pull it off.
“Stop it, Libby,” said Susanna.
As soon as Pickle turned it on, Libby’s eyes grew wide with amazement. She could see a moving image, and sounds came out of the visor just above her ears. She started to giggle.
Susanna looked at Pickle and smiled. “I think I found my new babysitter.”
“Look on the top of the visor,” said Pickle. “You can adjust what Libby is watching. Everything from The Little Mermaid to the maintenance manual for the ship’s electromagnetic pulse engines. All of Earth’s history and knowledge is stored here.”
Pickle pointed to the visor. “If you have any in-depth questions, you better ask the chief science officer herself. She invented the learning visor.”
“How are Connie and the first mate doing?” asked Susanna. “It makes me sick thinking they almost died together. There has been so much death lately. I don’t think I can take any more.”
“They are both doing fine,” said Pickle. “They look like mummies wrapped up in their white skin tape. All you can see is their eyes, but they are closed because of the heavy meds they’re both on.”
Just then, baby Libby started clapping her hands and pointed at her visor.
“What is it?” asked Susanna.
“Apparently your daughter likes heavy equipment,” said Pickle. “Look for yourself.”
Reaching over, she pressed a button on the side of Libby’s visor. Instantly the same image that was projected on the underside of the visor was also projected on the top. Now Susanna and Pickle could watch what Libby was watching. The image was of a large Caterpillar D10 bulldozer pushing a pile of dirt. It was yellow in color and had black smoke coming out of the stack. It would push the dirt one way, then the next, stopping and starting and doing it all over again. Every time it changed direction, Libby would laugh.
“How innocent,” said Pickle. “I always wanted to have a baby but couldn’t.”
“Well, I will share my baby with you,” said Susanna. “She will be the ship’s surrogate baby. Everyone will be a part of her upbringing.”
With tears in her eyes, Pickle hugged Susanna and whispered, “Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Captain Kriss glided effortlessly towards Engineering. She hated coming down here. It was the furthermost section from the bridge. The enormous size of Engineering was daunting. A person could get lost down there. It felt like you were in the bowels of the ship, and the captain much preferred being in the eyes of the ship.
Saluting, she passed a guard sentry. It was the only part of the ship that was guarded. Engineering housed the nuclear reactor, the oxygen generator, the carbon dioxide scrubber, and the water purification system. Everything vital, besides the garden, was in Engineering. Even though the crew women were highly disciplined, someone could sabotage any one system. The risk wasn’t worth it.
Kriss didn’t come down to Engineering often, so it wasn’t uncommon for her to get lost. This always pissed off the captain. Turning a corner, she bumped into a crew woman.
“Where the hell is your commander?” she bellowed. “Every goddamn time I come down here, she’s not where we agreed to meet.”
“Follow me, sir, and I will take you to Merc,” replied the woman.
Quite smug, the captain followed. It seemed like they were in a corn maze, walking around massive machines and endless hallways, but finally Merc came into view. She was bent over a polished chrome table, working intently on a gold-colored object.
“Captain on deck,” snapped the crew woman.
Flipping up a magnifying visor, Merc stood up and saluted her captain.
“Dismissed,” said Kriss to the crew woman.
Soon just the captain and Merc were at the table. Merc picked up the gold object and presented it to Kriss.
“Sir, may I introduce you to my first-made weapon?”
“What the hell is it, Merc?”
“It’s a bolt gun, sir.”
“A bolt gun?” echoed the captain.
“Yes, sir. Let me explain. It’s an electromagnetic pulse gun. It has an aluminum rifled barrel wrapped with electromagnets that systematically switch on one after another to shoot a steel tungsten-core bolt out the barrel at fifteen bolts per second in full auto mode. The magnets don’t flip on and off by themselves, but rather, they see the bolt coming down the barrel with individual infrared sensors. When a sensor spots the bolt coming, it switches the magnet on for a millisecond, then switches it off for the next bolt. This creates a continuous pull on the bolt to the end of the barrel. By the time the bolt is fired, it is traveling at nine hundred meters per second. The amazing thing is it has no recoil. Plus, I wired it so that by slowing down the magnetic sequence, you can lower the velocity of the bolt similar to an old-school .45. So you have a small, lightweight weapon with no recoi
l that can take out a person at twenty meters away or blow a hole through a heavy armor plate a kilometer away.
“Captain, I have given you complete control of this weapon. Please use it wisely,” said Merc. “I recommend having the chief science officer implant the whole crew with RFID chips. Then, proven crewmates can have the chips turned on to use my weapon. And as a failsafe, if someone goes AWOL and their chip is activated, it can be turned off to prevent further discharge. And in a crisis situation, if the colony comes under an alien attack, everyone’s chip can be activated,” said Merc.
“Wow,” said the captain, “I am impressed.”
“Well, I take our ship’s safety very seriously, sir,” said Merc. “I don’t want a repeat of what we just escaped. This is our chance to start over and do everything right.”
“You are a noble woman, Merc, and I salute you for that. However, I know people very well, and we are all capable of great evil. It’s my job as commander of this ship to maintain discipline and guide our moral compass, and any SOB who doesn’t like it will get my wrath.” Captain Kriss punched her fist with emphasis down on the chrome table.
Merc looked into the captain’s eyes and saw the fire behind them. “Now for your demonstration. See that steel shipping crate over there?”
Kriss nodded.
Flipping the power on, Merc selected single fire, then, acquiring the target in the holographic sight, she squeezed the trigger. Instantly there was a gaping hole in the container. The bolt gun was completely silent, the only noise coming from the tearing metal.
“Now let’s have some real fun,” said Merc.
Flipping the selector to full auto, she again squeezed the trigger. This time, a metal rain of bolts hailed down on the container. Sparks were flying, and the metal sheared like butter against a hot knife. When the mag was empty, a large circular ring of steel glowed red hot from the extreme heat generated.
Turning back to the captain, Merc said, “Do you want to try a mag?”
“You’re damn right I do,” said Kriss.
Dropping a new mag into the stock, Merc passed the weapon to the captain. “Locked and loaded, sir.”
Kriss grabbed it with a shocked look. “I can’t believe how light it is.”
“It’s all polished aluminum, sir. The only steel is the bolts themselves.”
Bringing the bolt gun up to eye level, Kriss dumped the whole mag. To Merc’s amazement, the captain had crossed the circle she had cut with two lines. It looked like a skull and crossbones glowing red.
“It looks like I haven’t forgotten how to shoot a weapon,” the captain said proudly.
“No offense intended, sir, but you are a bad bitch to cross,” said Merc with a grin.
“How long will it take for you to make enough for the whole crew?”
“About three to four weeks,” said Merc.
“That will give Connie time to implant everyone,” said Kriss. “Now lead me out of this godforsaken hole you call home. I’ve got work to do.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Pickle pulled the scalp down and began to stitch it back together. Due to its vascular nature, blood ran everywhere, down Leea’s face, neck, and into the cleavage of her shirt, her hands white knuckled as she hung on to the chair’s arms. A nurse dabbed the blood with gauze. Leea moaned each time the suture needle pierced her skin.
“One inch lower and the quadcopter’s rotors would have gotten an eye or your nose,” said Pickle. “You were very lucky.”
“I don’t feel lucky,” said Leea. “Being stitched up twice for the same reason seems like fucking bad luck, if you ask me.”
“At least this scar will be under your hair, and not on your beautiful face,” said Pickle.
The compliment caused Leea to attempt a half smile.
“All done,” said Pickle. She passed a mirror to Leea, who noted that all the sutures were in her hairline. Then her eyes traveled down her face to her cheeks. On both were claw marks. The left cheek had four red streaks and the right had three. It looked like she had been crying and now had red mascara running down her face.
“They aren’t deep enough to scar, and will be gone before you know it,” said Pickle in a soft voice.
“I’m going to catch that cat, and Spuds can whip us up some chicken pot pie,” said Leea.
As she exited Med Bay, the doors swished open again and Spice floated in.
“I just came to check on Connie and Smitty,” she said.
“They are both still comatosed, strapped to those gurneys,” said Pickle.
Spice looked both women over. They looked like Eskimo mummies from the skin tape.
“Have either of them been conscious yet?” asked Spice.
“No,” said Pickle.
Leaning down next to Connie’s bound face, Spice whispered, “Your green beanstalk in the garden is growing fine.”
Connie’s eyes blinked open. Surveying the face smiling down at her, her eyes slowly closed shut like heavy garage doors.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sitting on the floor, Libby was watching her learning visor. Her head was tipped way back, and would have been uncomfortable on Earth, but in space, any position seemed comfortable. Lying in her lap was a large bundle of orange fur. The cat was so large that he looked like a big fur rug draped over Libby. She had her hands deep in his coat. The cat was asleep, but would purr loudly every time Libby moved her hands.
Alerted by a distant sound, the cat’s ears faced the doors. Raising his head, he turned and looked in the same direction. Just then, Susanna came in and was startled to see the giant cat lying on her daughter.
“What is this?” gasped Susanna. “So, you are the ship’s stowaway.”
She came towards her daughter and the cat. With apprehension, she reached for Libby. The giant cat got up and stretched. Libby’s hands slid out of his fur.
“Dobzer,” said Libby.
“What did you just say?” gushed Susanna. A mother hearing her baby’s first word is an incredibly powerful moment.
“Dobzer,” said Libby again.
The cat bunted Libby in the side and almost knocked her over. With a giggle, Libby reached out and grabbed the cat and said “Dobzer” again. With a confused look, Susanna touched the learning visor. An image of heavy equipment popped up again: “The largest dozer ever made by Caterpillar is a D10 with seven hundred horsepower.”
The word that jumped out at Susanna was “dozer.” The D10 was big and yellow, and it pushed things over.
The big orange cat was now rubbing on her legs.
“I get it!” shouted Susanna. “You mean Dozer, Libby.” Smiling, Susanna picked up Libby and said “Dozer” over and over. Libby, looking down at the cat, said “Dobzer” back. Kneeling down, Susanna stroked the big cat’s head. He purred affectionately.
“Anyone who loves my Libby and doesn’t like Leea is a friend of mine,” said Susanna.
Chapter Twenty-Four
There was excitement in the kitchen. Spuds was dishing out orders, tasting this and sampling that, telling one cook to add salt and another to add spice. She was a culinary genius, and her crew knew it. The buzz on board was that they were going to have their first Great Hall meeting and a banquet. Spuds loved these gatherings because she could show off her skills. She enjoyed the satisfied expressions on everyone’s face when it was over. Spuds was a giver, and she gave through her cooking. She knew the meeting wasn’t a rumor, because the captain had asked her to prepare for it.
The Great Hall was located in the kitchen of the ship, and all four hundred crew members could sit and eat there comfortably. The room was rectangular in shape, with four giant tables of equal length running the long side of the room. Each table had opposing chairs placed along the length of the table. Each table seated a hundred crewmates. Because the crew was shorted, Spuds had d
ecided to place twenty-five crewmates per table and seat them close to the raised podium at the end of the hall.
All the tables had clean white tablecloths and crew nameplates at each setting. The meals, once prepared, would be placed in space plates, which contained the meals and prevented the food from drifting around. Each plate looked like two plastic Frisbees welded together, were clear so you could see what you were eating, and had a slit on one side that a spoon could fit through. When the spoon was pulled out, the slit had a soft silicone squeegee that scraped off the excess food into the dish. The food always looked bland, but Spuds made it delicious in flavor.
Spice entered the hall, her arms full of freshly picked flowers from the garden. Spuds clapped her hands in excitement and waddled as fast as she could towards Spice.
“I thought we needed something to lighten things up since everyone on board is depressed,” said Spice. “And what better way than fresh-cut wildflowers?”
They put a small arrangement between each place setting. All the stems had been cut at an angle, and were placed in a water membrane holder anchored on the table.
Soon all four tables were done. Spice and Spuds surveyed their handiwork. Each table was beautifully arranged with large yellow sunflowers, white daisies, and pink tulips. The flowers had transformed the hall into a room of beauty.
“Oh, the captain will be so proud,” said Spuds with a big smile. Her loose skin shook under her chin as she pronounced each syllable. Spice tried not to show her smile. But Spuds saw her wrinkled nose and mistook it to mean Spice smelled the food.
“Come with me, dear, and let’s get a sample of tonight’s feast,” said Spuds.
Following like an obedient dog, Spice sampled everything Spuds shoved into her mouth. Everything was a sticky goo, but amazingly, it tasted like real food: creamed corn, mashed potatoes and gravy, macaroni and cheese, beef Stroganoff.
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