NightPiercer

by Merry Ravenell

  Rainer tried to restart the conversation a few times, then abandoned every hope of it, while all the wardroom seemed to watch.

  Goal Achieved...yaaaaayyy

  Miles of wiring hung off the gutted frame of the shuttle. He’d peeled off the panels and tiles, emptied the secondary water hull—what hadn’t already vented into space—and now the skeleton lay on its belly, dangling wires and circuits and boards like a skinned carcass.

  “No explosive residue, Jess?” he asked. “Not even a trace. You’re certain.”

  “Certain, sir,” she replied.

  A bomb would have been too obvious anyway, and easy to trace. He’d already gone over the logs of who had worked on this shuttle since its last flight five times. No swapped shifts, no new techs, nothing missing out of Supply. He kept meticulous inventory. Everything was so difficult to manufacture or fabricate that even the smallest of washers had serial numbers and inventory entries.

  He stepped up onto the frame and grabbed at the bundle of wires that sat right under the port side windows. The frame was blackened and bent inward from the explosion that had burst outward. The secondary hull had been damaged, while the outer hull had been punched through. But the second explosion 2.7 seconds later in the tail was what had nearly killed them.

  He examined a hunk of fried wires and what had once been a bundle of censors and control pods. What hadn’t been burned had been cold-scalded by space. Other things had popped, burst, fried, and frozen, but this seemed to be the center, and this particular bundle also shared lines with the tail.

  He pulled the knife off his hip and sawed through the wires.

  “Sir?” Jess asked.

  He threw the bundle to her, then crawled along the frame to the tailplane where the second, larger explosion had hit, which had set off a smaller series of events. Like dominos falling. He cut free another, smaller bundle, and leapt off the carcass.

  Jess handed him the first bundle. She asked again, “Sir?”

  Rainer tucked the bundles under his arm. “I’ll be in the electronics bay. This will take a while.”

  Picking over and testing each tiny nanometer of a wire and sensor bundle was not Rainer’s favorite thing to do, but absolutely necessary. And each nanometer compared to the logs led him to the source of the problem. Or, in this case, the culprit: a small, flattened oval of a sensor that controlled the voltage regulation for the primary power system. It monitored the magnetic and solar radiation pressure outside the shuttle. A rather critical bit of kit, and one of twenty such sensors. They failed or wore out regularly. Easy to build.

  Easy to modify too.

  He gathered up the bundles of wire into a bucket and brushed the comm behind his ear. “Captain, I need to meet with you and senior staff.”

  After a moment, “I’m in my quarters, Commander. Can this wait?”

  “No.”

  “Two hours, Commander.” Tsu’s voice sounded weary.

  Enough time for him to type up the actual report of what happened and who was to blame.

  * * *

  Rainer returned carrying a metal tray full of clumps of charred bits and pieces. He also reeked of sweat and triumph.

  “We have a meeting in,” he glanced at a tablet, “ninety-seven minutes. Senior staff, officer conference room. You’re coming.”

  “What? I don’t have any business in an officer meeting,” she protested. And she didn’t want to be anywhere near an officer meeting. Even being in the wardroom eating an innocent meal was too close.

  “It’s about the shuttle. I need to type up my report. Wear your hair down.”

  “Why?”

  “To remind them you’re not someone they can ignore,” Rainer said.

  They could ignore her all she wanted. She liked being ignored. She didn’t care for the kind of attention she’d been attracting. “This from the wolf who has been telling me to stay out of sight and make sure nobody noticed me?”

  “Change of plans.” Rainer held up one of the charred clumps.

  “And those are?”

  “Shuttle pieces. Ninety-six minutes, Lachesis. We can’t be late.”

  Lachesis took the chair at the end of the table. Security Chief Gribbons looked right at her for a moment. Lachesis met his gaze with difficulty, the sore spot over her ribs thumping.

  “I presume you have a good reason for having your wife here,” Bennett asked Rainer as Rainer stood by the large wall of screens and tapped on his tablet.

  Rainer didn’t look up from his work. “She was piloting the shuttle.”

  Bennett gave her an overly frank look, his gaze drifting down the coils of her wine-red hair, his attention so direct it felt like he ran his hands through the falls. Keenan also took note of her hair, but her gaze was more measuring, something tight in her expression, like she smelled something bad but was too polite to say so.

  Captain Tsu arrived, noted Lachesis but ignored her otherwise, scrolled through his tablet as he took a seat. “I’ve skimmed your report, Rainer. I feel like I’ve got a basic grasp of what you’re suggesting, but it’s too technical for the rest of the senior staff. You’re suggesting sabotage.”

  Everyone not named Rainer flinched.

  Two of the screens illuminated: one with her simulation, one with the myriad of flight inputs for every second of the flight. The simulation played through several times over. Then Rainer passed the small, charred sensor to Tsu. “That’s the culprit. It’s one of the sensors embedded into the mesh between hulls. There are eighty-eight more like it, and hundreds more of different purposes, all wired into the mesh.”

  Rainer’s explanation was painfully technical, and she only half-understood it. The little sensor had been tampered with in such a way it caused a power overload within the honeycomb mesh that existed between the primary and secondary hulls. The mesh was like nerve fibers, sending and receiving data and commands from ship to pilot. It was laced with all manner of sensors, panels, circuits, boards, and other tech that worked in careful concert.

  The resulting shockwave had rippled through the hulls, combined with the unbalanced electrical charge and the exact harmonic frequency of the rattling generator disc.

  Bennett wasn’t convinced. “So why didn’t the sensor fail on the flight over when the engines were at their coldest?”

  Tsu tossed the sensor back to Rainer. “Takes time to build up enough of a hotspot. The exterior temperature on the original date was forecast to be a full degree warmer. Extra charged particles would have made it happen on the flight over.”

  “So you expected something was going to happen,” Bennett told Rainer. “You didn’t report your concerns to anyone.”

  Rainer walked over to Bennett. He leaned over Bennett, and said, “I didn’t feel like I needed to. I’d been told disgruntled individuals might cause a scene over my third marriage. I wasn’t worried about Lachesis’ safety, just her first impression of NightPiercer.”

  “And you’re trying to smell if perhaps I was that disgruntled?” Bennett shoved Rainer back. “Start explaining why you didn’t report your concerns to Security.”

  “Start by showing us this wolf’s file,” Tsu said, gesturing at Bennett to shut up.

  The technician that had replaced the sensor—and presumably altered it—was a werewolf junior Lieutenant that did not report directly to Rainer. Keenan brought up his personal file. No one told Lachesis to excuse herself. They seemed to have forgotten she was there at all.

  The wolf’s file was ordinary: twenty-nine, single, enrolled in the Pool, sperm collected, mechanic with an electrical speciality, Dying Art was leatherworking, and received solid marks from his superiors at every review. No disciplinary marks. It seemed like he’d never even skipped a day of School.

  “Why hasn’t he been promoted, Commander? His reports show he’s reliable and ticks his boxes,” Tsu asked.

  “Because he ticks the boxes. He doesn’t invite adversity or controversy,” Rainer said. “The weight of rank isn’t for the timid
or complacent.”

  “Exactly what I’d expect a werewolf to say,” Bennett said.

  Keenan scoffed. “Operations doesn’t play with life or death. You’re all just politicians.”

  “Without Operations dinner wouldn’t be cooked, then it’s three days until chaos.” Bennett held up three fingers. “We make sure it doesn’t come down to life or death.”

  The Rules of Three: three minutes without air, three days without water, and so forth. Society had also proven to have its own rule. Three days after a critical resource became scarce society started to fracture. Food, water, power, whatever it was. Humans started to turn on other humans. Werewolf packs held on a bit longer if the leadership was strong, but hungry wolves were much more dangerous than hungry humans.

  Tsu flicked off the screens. “Gribbons, get the Lieutenant up here. Now.”

  Lachesis sat perfectly still, watching them out of the corner of her eye. Bennett and Tsu started a conversation about some Crew rotations down in the galley and Tsu had some questions for Keenan about crops in two of the Biomes, which she said she’d have to refer to her subordinate who oversaw Biomes & Farm. The conversation returned to Bennett and discussing the unexciting business of Ship Operations.

  Boring. This was why she’d been happy that Operations hadn’t invited her to take the Operations entry exam. She’d heard that even at the highest levels of the sections, eventually it all became managing people and oversight. Operations just got started sooner. Seemed like Keenan lived that life: not so much the business of Crèche more than managing the hundreds of people who worked under her. Even Rainer’s conversation with Tsu revolved around what other people were doing, not what he was doing.

  Earth had had planes, and people on the ground had told the planes where they could go. How fast, how high, when to leave, when to arrive. She’d have wanted to fly the planes. Getting promoted to controlling the planes sounded like a demotion.

  The door dinged. Everyone set their tablets to the side and straightened up as Tsu pressed the door open.

  The wolf on the other side smelled of nerves. He noticed Lachesis first, eyes widening with surprise and total confusion, then when he saw the Command staff, his eyes got even wider, and his skin took on a clammy sheen. He grabbed his hands behind his back as he tried to present himself without leaving the safety of the still-open doorway.

  “Come in, Lieutenant.” Tsu gestured for him to step inside. “You know the command staff. That is Lachesis. She was piloting the incident shuttle.”

  He visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so. He looked at her again, fingers twisting. He knew exactly why he was here and smelled like it.

  Captain Tsu gestured for him to sit in the chair to Gribbon’s left. The Lieutenant, reluctantly, did so, sinking slowly onto the seat. He placed his hands on the polished metal table, fingers wide and so much heat coming off them that the metal around his hands fogged.

  Tsu reached under the table and pulled out the metal tray full of bundles. He deposited it on the table with a clank. “We have some questions about this sensor, Lieutenant. You were the one who replaced the A-132 sensor at position 42-A on the mesh, correct?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, avoiding looking at Rainer. His shoulders hunched forward. If he’d been in wolf form, his tail would have been between his legs.

  “Anything unusual about the mesh? Signs of wear and tear? Fraying? Did this sensor give you any problems with calibration?” Tsu inquired.

  “No, sir. It was normal. Lieutenant Juan signed off on the repair. Standard maintenance,” the wolf said, relaxing a bit.

  “It’s still a one-man job, Rainer, or do we have to get another person up here? There’s nothing in your logs to indicate there was a second crewman on the job.” Tsu turned his attention to Rainer, his tone hardening a bit as if implying the Commander’s logs or duty rosters might be inaccurate.

  Rainer barely acknowledged the question. “One person, one shift.”

  “That true, crewman?” Tsu asked the Lieutenant, skepticism plain in his tone. “Still one-person, one shift? Start to finish? Including calibration?”

  The wolf nodded, mildly confused and relaxing further. “Yes, sir, still one person. Just makes for a long day.”

  “About how long?”

  “Twelve hours.”

  “The Engineering logs indicate that you’ve performed this same maintenance task two dozen times over the past three years, and it’s only taken you seven hours. What happened this time?”

  The wolf’s neck beaded with sweat, and more sweat formed in his hairline.

  “You knew I was getting married again,” Rainer said, voice like a sheet of metal: flat, but with a deadly thin edge.

  The wolf stumbled over his words. “Y-yes, sir. It was common knowledge on my shift. W-was it supposed to be a secret?”

  “No, but there were rumors her arrival was going to be met with crickets or a conveniently burst brown pipe. Perhaps those are just the rumors I was allowed to hear, and something more interesting was planned?”

  The wolf sat up rod-straight. His scent of fear and anxiety intensified, thickening the air in the room.

  Rainer picked up the sensor. “Nothing happens in Engineering I don’t know about, wolf. I know at least twenty of you would be happy if I dropped dead. But someone having the stupidity to kill me with shuttle sabotage? I can be replaced, but the shuttles can’t be. You tampered with this, put it into the mesh, calibrated it, and set it to create a hotspot that would cause an explosion and destroy the shuttle.”

  “No!” the wolf shouted. “No!”

  “Did you want to kill just me, or were you hoping to get Lachesis too? Tell me you wanted to go all-out and kill an innocent she-wolf. Tell me you hate me that much.”

  “I don’t want to kill anyone! I don’t want to hurt anyone!” the wolf shouted, voice rising an octave.

  Rainer didn’t move in his chair. His strange eyes were sharp and cold, not even predatory, just like relentless mirrors showing an unaltered reflection. “I am going to tear Engineering apart to find who is responsible. When the path leads back to you—because it will—it’s not my wrath you’ll face. You’re going to have to explain this to your thirty-one bunkmates.”

  The wolf sank back into the chair, all resistance gone from his joints. His spine caved, and he slumped forward, staring dully at the table. “It’s not fair.”

  The words raked like nails against concrete. Fair? This wolf was complaining about what was fair? There was nothing fair about any of this. Lachesis snarled at him and grabbed the edges of the table, her skin prickling and her gums burning with the prick of fangs. “No, what’s not fair, is getting ripped out of your birth-ship, losing your profession, your Dying Art and being forced to marry a wolf who has been forced to be a father. I’ve lost everything I worked for. You threw everything away!”

  “You’re his third wife,” the wolf shot back. “He doesn’t want you, or pups, and we’re all waiting in the Pool while he throws wives away. You’re right, it’s not fair, it’s bullshit and you shouldn’t be here at all! But I didn’t want to kill you or him!”

  Tsu gestured for her to be quiet. She crushed all her anger back inside herself, running her tongue over her teeth. Too close. Too much anger and emotion. The room reeked of anger: Keenan’s smoldering ice-cold fury, Bennett’s molten fury, and cutting through it all, Rainer’s dead-cold rage. He wanted to kill this wolf.

  No, worse than kill him: break him.

  Tsu’s calm cut through all of it. “What was your goal?”

  The wolf muttered to himself, eyes darting all around the table as if looking for help from somewhere. “Just to have the flight controls short out! Not totally disabled, just drifting a few hours until he got the mesh recalibrated around the fried circuits.”

  Rainer surged to the edge of his chair, and the wolf recoiled so forcefully in his he almost tipped it over. Lachesis grabbed the edge of the table. This small-minded pea-brain
ed piece of cricket frass! “Only a junior-level idiot would think something like that is embarrassing!”

  Tsu cut through the air with a sharp gesture, then pointed at her. She fumed. If she’d wanted to embarrass a pilot, there were better ways. Her temper stretched to the breaking point. “If you want to embarrass someone, make them look like an idiot, not a hero.”

  “Lachesis, I’m not warning you again. Muzzle it. That’s an order.” Tsu’s voice took on a sting of authority.

  “Who put you up to this? This wasn’t your idea. You’re too Gaia-damned tame and obedient to even look me in the eye. Someone else propped you up to this, and you betrayed the section.”

  The name Gaia dropped like a stone in the room, but Rainer either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He barred his teeth at the shrinking wolf, who shook and curled backwards in his chair. “You stink of submission and fear. Who put you up to this? Because they set you up to take all the blame and look like an idiot while doing it.”

  “Or make you look like an idiot for having someone that incompetent rigging out shuttles,” Bennett said, clearly entertained.

  “I’d expect better from even you,” Rainer growled at the First Officer.

  Bennett grinned, and Keenan rubbed her head, while the scent of Rainer’s fury thickened in the filtered air. His temper was getting ahead of him, the metallic thread of a male’s true fury clear to her nose. This little wolf had challenged him, endangered a female, violated the den…

  Rainer needed to shut up before they started to think he was an Alpha about to snap and start tearing into the ship.

  “Rainer,” she said softly.

  His attention whipped to her. So did everyone else’s.

  She focused on him, and kept her tone soft but firm, hoping to reach that wild anger in his eyes. “You’re barking over a little dog with a bad plan. It’s your reflection you should be barking at.”

  Rainer braced himself with both hands on the table, shoulders bunching under his uniform, and he bowed his head a second, took a breath, then lifted his head once more. His jaw worked like he was trying to form words and failing, although he seemed to be smiling at the same time. Seconds ticked away before he managed to speak. “She’s right. Little dog, you have no idea what embarrasses an officer. This isn’t what embarrasses an officer. You are. My compliments to whoever put you up to this. Well-played.”