by Craig Allen
He nodded toward Wallace, who had turned back to the main door leading off the bridge. “And he’s Jason, right?”
“No, he’s Commander. Or Commander Wallace. Got it? Now go help the commander.”
“What’s he doing?”
“Hell if I know. Just go help him.” She turned away and picked through the debris.
Cody waded through the water to Commander Wallace. “Can I help you, Commander?”
“Yeah.” Wallace reached inside an open section of the bulkhead and grabbed two bundles of cables that had been pulled from their sockets, exposing the bare conductors to the air. “When I say ‘now,’ you touch these together.” He motioned with them. “Be careful. Don’t touch the open part. Just the insulation. If you do…” He raised an eyebrow. “Well, let’s just say your problems will be over.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning the power of a class-two cold fusion battery will light up your life. Trust me, you’re not as conductive as these bio-ceramic ones, but you’ll conduct just fine.”
Cody could’ve sworn the wires had grown smaller. “Conduct?”
Wallace gestured toward the knee-deep water around them. Cody exhaled slowly.
Wallace reached for the door and grasped a piece of plasti-steel composite debris. He had it wedged between a deep divot in the door and a curved extension of the door’s lock bar that crossed the double doors. It looked as if it were designed to allow someone to jam something against the lock bar and force it open during an emergency.
“Commander?”
Wallace glanced at Cody. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about everyone.” Cody nodded toward the bridge.
“Me, too,” Wallace said.
“I wish—”
“Not now.” Wallace double-checked the length of plasti-steel, making sure it was wedged in properly. “We’ll deal with that later. What matters now is survival.” Wallace nodded at Lieutenant Kelly. “On my count,” he said, bracing himself. “Three, two, one.”
Cody touched the wires. The wall and the door hummed with power. Wallace pushed until veins popped out in his forehead. The lock bar screeched and started to give.
“Something must be jammed in there,” Wallace said through clenched teeth.
Cody started to respond when a sound like the crack of a whip came from the open section of wall. A bright light flared out from the wall, and he stumbled backward, nearly falling into the water. Smoke poured out from the edge of the door.
The Commander tossed aside the piece of plasti-steel. “Well, goddamn it.”
Before coming aboard, Cody had never heard so much swearing in his life. He chastised himself. He’d spent too much time in academic circles, where almost no one used such language. Cody always felt it was… well, primitive. Still, it didn’t seem like the time to bring up something like that.
Wallace threw up his hands. “Anything on this tub work anymore?”
Lieutenant Kelly stepped around debris as she approached. “No luck, sir?”
Wallace shook his head. “No, the thing shorted. Maybe—”
“Wait a second.” Cody pointed to the door.
Commander Wallace glared at him.
Cody waved his finger at the door. “Listen.”
Wallace and Kelly stepped toward the door. Human voices on the other side carried easily through the thick door.
“Hear that?” Cody asked.
They shook their heads. Cody’s hearing was more sensitive than most. He started to tell them to lean closer when a light tapping reverberated through the door.
“I’ll be damned.” Wallace picked up the metal rod he’d held earlier and tapped rhythmically against the door. After he finished, the tapping commenced from the other side. Wallace nodded slightly with the taps, apparently translating their meaning.
He nodded at Kelly. “Stand back.”
They both did so, and a second later, a low-level vibration came from the door. Cody couldn’t help but cringe at the sound of the lock bar screeching. Even Kelly grimaced.
The lock bar clicked and slid aside. The double doors swung wide with the hum of servos and the grating of metal on metal. Water poured out of the bridge like a river. A heavily muscled woman stood on the other side. The bridge deck was nearly ten centimeters above the deck just outside, but the woman’s head came almost to the top of the door. After a brief look at the remains of the bridge, she faced the commander. “Looks like we got here in the nick of time, sir.”
The hull around the bridge groaned in response. “Agreed.” He gestured toward Cody and Lieutenant Kelly. “Out. Now.”
Lieutenant Kelly led Cody and Wallace out the door. The deck outside the bridge was lower, and Cody misjudged the distance. His foot missed the single step leading down to the lower deck. He nearly fell, but the muscled woman caught him by the arm and lifted him back onto his feet.
Nearly two meters tall, Marine Gunnery Sergeant Monroe towered over Cody. She didn’t have a gram of fat on her.
“Thanks.”
She only nodded in response. Cody had met her when he first came aboard, but they hadn’t spoken very much since. He didn’t remember her first name.
Two other marines stood beside her. Sergeant Bodin looked him over once and then turned away. Cody had seen him around the ship as well, but before then, Bodin had never even acknowledged him.
The other man, Corporal Jim Carson, smiled at Cody. “You okay, Doc?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good,” Jim said, “because you still owe me money.” He snickered at Cody’s reaction and patted him on the shoulder before joining the others. Cody shook his head. He’d thought he was good at Texas Hold ’em until he met Jim. He was lucky Jim hadn’t cleaned him out altogether.
Wires and fiber hung from the ceiling, which had collapsed at one end of the corridor. The memory of collapsing sections came back to him. He hoped others, especially the civilians, had gotten to their crash tubes. He really did want everyone to be alive, but at that point, he was a civilian in a military world, which he couldn’t begin to understand. It would’ve been nice to have someone with him that was at least as ignorant as he was.
Commander Wallace stood in the ankle-deep water in the hall outside the bridge, regarding Gunnery Sergeant Monroe. “What’s our status, Gunny?”
“Everything forward of here appears flooded,” Monroe said. “Sections automatically closed to contain the breaches. Backup power must be on somewhere since we have lights and life support. Not much else is working, though, sir.”
“That’s the least of our worries, sir.” Bodin worked his jaw as if he were chewing on something. “Outer hull sections are flooded, and the inner ones are buckling.”
“Why is that happening?” Everyone regarded Cody coolly, but it didn’t deter him. “I mean, the ship can survive the vacuum of space, right?”
“Pressure’s greater under water than space,” Jim said. “The ship is designed to survive keeping one atmospheric pressure inside while there’s a vacuum outside. Now we have one atmosphere inside and several atmospheres outside.”
“Spinoza can handle a ten-atmosphere differential.” Lieutenant Kelly gestured at the water around their feet.
“So if we’re leaking, then we must be pretty deep, ma’am,” Monroe said.
Kelly shrugged. “Maybe not. Our rate of descent indicated the gravity here is one point two of standard. Greater pressures would occur at shallower depths. We might not be that far under.”
“Or we got hit harder than we thought,” Wallace said. “Have you found other survivors?”
“No, sir,” Monroe said. “SOP for a water landing is to head for the interior.”
“Engine room’s the toughest place,” Jim said.
Wallace nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“What do you need if we encounter Spicans?”
Everyone tensed at the word. Most of the people on board had served during the war
ten years before and had first-hand experience with the Spicans’ viciousness. Spicans who had been isolated since the end of the war were as vicious as their predecessors, unlike the survivors of the war, who had learned to be peaceful… and to regret what they had done.
Cody was there to communicate to the Spicans that their two governments were at peace. But he could do so only if he had his gear.
“I’ll need my equipment,” Cody said. “It’s the only way to interface with their neural language. It’s a black box about the size of a briefcase.”
“Understood.” Wallace pointed at Kelly and Jim. “Go to Dr. Brenner’s quarters and retrieve his equipment. While you’re at it, look for survivors where you can. Our people are probably in the center of the ship, but some of the civvies might still be holed up somewhere. Meet us in the engine room.”
“Yes, sir,” they responded.
Lieutenant Kelly turned to leave. Before following her, Jim leaned toward Cody. “Stay frosty, all right?”
Wishing someone else would go instead, Cody nodded as Jim left. Corporal Carson was one of the few crew members who treated Cody like a normal person instead of someone who was simply in the way. Granted, it was because Jim was a fan from back when Cody did orbital drops. A number of fans of the sport were in the military, but oddly, only Jim talked about it.
Cody barely knew anyone else. He and Gunnery Sergeant Monroe had talked when he’d first come aboard and a few times in the mess hall. He’d asked her about the scar on her hand, but she’d brushed it off. During the voyage, they’d hardly said two words to each other.
“Let’s go.” Wallace waded through the water in the corridor. Everyone followed, with Monroe staying close to Wallace. Bodin gestured for Cody to move forward and then came up behind him.
“I… I’ve never been to the engine room,” Cody said to Bodin. “Not on any ship.”
Bodin stared at him, never breaking his stride. He had a look of complete and utter apathy in his dark eyes. Cody kept his mouth shut. Talking made him feel better when he was under stress, but no one seemed to be in the mood for conversation.
~~~
Walking through the light cruiser’s corridors, doors, and hatches would take less than an hour. Even so, the journey was slow going. Cracked bulkheads creaked and threatened to fail. Some passages had collapsed altogether, causing the survivors to take a twisting route up and down ladders to other decks. A trip that would normally take moments took much longer.
Cody stopped to run his hand along part of the bulkhead. Spaceship materials were manufactured with extreme care. Nanos built each sheet from the atom up, removing virtually all impurities. The plastic-iridium composite bulkheads interlaced with synthetic bio-fibers created a hull that could heal minor fractures and made it strong enough to survive a fall from orbit—theoretically, at least. Yet they were surrounded by water.
Around the corner, everyone was waiting for Cody. “Thanks. I don’t mean to—”
Monroe reached over and put a hand on his mouth. Her grip pinched his lip between his teeth. “Shut up.” She released him, but he didn’t get a chance to respond.
A squeal from down the hall rose in pitch for a few seconds and then dropped. Periodically, a rhythmic clicking permeated the squeals. Whatever was making the sound couldn’t have been more than twenty meters away.
“Pressure door leaking?” Bodin’s voice was barely more than a whisper.
Wallace shook his head. “Water coming into the ship wouldn’t—”
The sound changed in pitch several times, then multiplied. Cody had always had a decent ear for pitch, which was one of the things that made him such a good linguist. He heard ten distinct sounds, each squealing at different intervals. And more squeals joined them.
“Some locals get in here?” Monroe asked.
“We’re not staying to find out.” Wallace glanced up at a hatch above their heads. He nodded to Monroe. “Gunny, take point. Let’s move. Now.”
In spite of the heavier gravity, Monroe went up the ladder two rungs at a time. Wallace followed. As he climbed, Cody’s legs burned. He had been up and down several ladders already. He pulled himself up rung by rung, breathing hard.
“Move it, clue.” Sergeant Bodin tapped Cody’s ankle. “I know you’re tired, but you got to hump it.”
“Clue?” Cody asked, but Bodin had already moved on.
Cody pushed harder, forcing his aching muscles to propel him up the ladder to the next deck. The squeals and clicking fell behind them, and they were soon out of earshot. They had reached about mid-ship, according to the signs marking intersections, with only two or three decks above them. Cody couldn’t remember how many. The corridors were bone dry.
Part of the corridor was so dark that Cody had to feel his way along. A sharp pain made him jerk his hand back. Carefully, he reached out again. A broken piece of conduit stuck straight out of the bulkhead. The plasti-steel pipe was, like everything else, constructed of materials designed from the atom up to fit perfectly. That meant when it broke, it had an edge measured in nanometers. He was lucky he hadn’t lost a finger.
Ahead, something tapped on metal. Cody panicked for a moment. Monroe snorted then patted Cody on the shoulder. “Relax, Doc. We’re here.” A light on her wrist came to life.
He wondered why she hadn’t done that before but realized it might’ve attracted attention. When they reached the end of the corridor, Wallace tapped out a pattern, probably Morse code again, using a piece of pipe.
“Well, good.” Cody’s knees quivered from the walk. “Imagine my relief.”
“Easy part’s done,” Bodin said. “Now the fun begins.”
“Fun?” Cody asked.
“That’s right,” Monroe said. “Getting off this ship, for one.”
“And the planet next,” Bodin added.
Cody looked at them. “What do you mean by ‘clue’?”
Bodin answered over his shoulder as he walked toward the Commander. “Don’t worry about it.”
A loud metallic clank reverberated through the corridor, and the door opened. A figure leaned through the opening, partially blocking the glare of the light that spilled out. “Glad to see you made it, sir.” The light on the other side of the door had blinded Cody, so he couldn’t make out who was in front of him.
“Thanks, Chief.” Wallace entered through the door as it opened wider for him. “Who else made it?”
“Not many, sir.”
Cody followed the Commander inside the door. Once inside, he recognized the man who had opened the door as Master Chief Forester. Cody had accidentally bumped into him in the lavatory. The head, he reminded himself. The chief had been with a “friend” at the time. At least, that was what he had called her.
The engine room was ablaze with holo-controls and graphics showing the status of grav impellers, the Daedalus drive, communication, fire control, and a multitude of other systems. Almost all displays flashed red, highlighting parts of the ship damaged.
Two people stood over the holo-displays. Alice Walters, a first mate, had been Forester’s lavatory “friend.” Cody had met Corporal Deveau during their briefing prior to leaving on the Spinoza. He had seen him only once or twice during the voyage. Deveau was staring at a handful of holo-images, each showing a three-dimensional image of a different section of the ship.
Wallace faced the chief. “Status.”
“We got a backup reactor up and running, sir, as you can tell.” Forester nodded at the displays all around them. “We’ve got life support, some security viewers operational, and little else. We had to siphon deuterium from other reactors, though. It’ll run for maybe a month.”
“Anyone else around?” Monroe brought up the rear and closed the door after Bodin entered.
“We’ve been keeping an eye on the rest of the ship.” Walters pointed at Deveau.
Cody glanced at the monitors in front of the corporal. Almost all of the corridors and rooms were filling with water. “We saw Lieutenant Kelly
a little while ago,” Walters said, “but that’s it.”
“I saw Jim, too.” Deveau turned to Commander Wallace. “I mean, Corporal Carson. I haven’t seen either of them for a while, though.”
Bodin leaned over the corporal’s shoulder. “Whatcha see?”
Deveau shrugged. “Water, water, everywhere.”
“Lucky to even be here, I guess,” Bodin said.
“Wish we’d been luckier.” Forester pointed at the other holos. “Parts of the ship are still collapsing.” Using the nearest set of controls, he brought up a schematic of the ship.
Most outer sections, along with any other areas that had collapsed, showed up as black. Many of the surviving sections glowed red. Those within the ship’s center were yellow, and only the engine room and a couple of other sections were green.
Forester pointed at parts of the schematic. “These areas collapsed recently, but they’re on the opposite side from where the reactor deuterium nuked.” He turned away from the schematic. “We’ve done some depth readings. Based on the gravity and water pressure, we’re about fifty meters beneath the surface. It’s not enough to crush the ship. We could’ve sunk another fifty meters and still survived, but sections are still collapsing, and we are still taking on water.”
“So what’s going on?” Monroe asked.
Deveau spoke while still staring at the bank of holo-monitors in front of him. “There’s another one, Chief.” He increased the size of the image. It showed a relatively undamaged corridor where a hatch had burst open, releasing water from a flooded compartment into the one they were viewing.
“What caused that?” Wallace asked.
Deveau shook his head “I don’t know.” He glanced up at the commander and quickly added, “Sir.” He cleared his throat. “This is the third time this has happened.”
“What the hell is that?”
Something squirmed in the water pouring from the hatch. It spread throughout the corridor like an oil slick. It weaved like a giant snake, yet retained no discernible shape.
Deveau stared at the image. “Got me.”