Homeworld, page 9
Chapter Nine
It was late in the senior staff’s conference room next to Holly’s office, and only the fact that Claire’s team in engineering had managed to calibrate the system that mimicked daylight at the appropriate hours compared to Earth made Samantha’s body believe it. She sat to the left of Holly, with Darian on her other side. Walker had been showing Holly something on his computer and just now snapped it closed and took his seat beside the captain. Camilla looked remarkably unaffected by the late hour, while Claire slumped in her chair, her deep skin tone displaying a grayish undertone. Her ordeal earlier in the day had startled them all, but Raoul, who sat next to Darian, reassured them she just needed some decent rest.
Philber was busy jotting down notes using pen and paper, and whatever he was working on had him looking like the proverbial mad scientist, with his hair in complete disarray. Somehow, he’d managed to pull a torn cardigan over his pale-beige uniform, which added to the imagery. Carl, like Camilla, appeared as if he had just had a solid eight-hour sleep and was ready to throw himself into his new job as ops officer, when he had in fact worked a double shift helping his counterparts find their stride. They had all pulled double duty like that at some point during the day, as it was essential to establish the three shifts required to maneuver the ship. Walker was setting up a roster that would allow them to work in different constellations, both to get to know each other and also to comfortably perform together and not become an A, B, and C crew.
Samantha was pleased with the two ensigns who would take the helm when she wasn’t on duty. One man and one woman, both in their late thirties, the woman actually a newly minted helicopter pilot, had been able to absorb everything their NIECs offered and put the new knowledge to practical use. Samantha would, together with her new copilots, train others to maneuver the speeders and, later, at least know the basics of handling the helm.
“I have a question,” Carl said, thus starting the meeting even if they were missing Brandon and Raoul.
“By all means,” Holly said as everyone else quieted. “Ask away.”
“Is it true that we have chickens in the hydroponics bay?” Carl’s eyes glittered.
“It is indeed.” Holly smiled, which reduced the tension around her almond-shaped eyes. “According to Crewman Schneider, we’ll have eggs—and pets.”
“Pets.” Walker raised his bushy eyebrows. “Please tell me they won’t be assigned to us in our quarters.”
Holly chuckled, which made her hair dance around her cheeks. “I’m tempted to suggest it. But as a favor to the chickens, not to mention the impressive rooster, they’re getting a proper chicken coop where they currently reside.” She laced her fingers and placed her hands on the table. “I learned a lot today, not just about the chickens, even if that situation was rather surreal. I now realize we have very young children on board, which means we have to be diligent when it comes to their protection, as well as their schooling and general development—physically, mentally, emotionally. I happened upon a lovely woman in the elevator yesterday, Marjory Hopkins—”
“My aunt!” Carl lit up.
“Exactly. She seems to be something of a renaissance woman, possessing many talents, and judging by how she spoke of you, she might be perfect as a liaison between civilians and crew, and the children especially. However, I leave the final decision in your capable hands, Walker, Camilla.”
“You read my mind, Captain,” Camilla said. “I ended up at Marjory’s table in the mess hall today. She’s immensely proud of you, Carl.”
Reddening now, Carl seemed to think they’d talked enough about his relative. Samantha took the opportunity to address them. “On that note, not just the kids need an education. We all have so much to learn about the ship, and I’ve noticed that our respective NIECs don’t always, well, bother to show us even the basics. It took me the better half of an hour to figure out the shower. And everyone should understand how the entire process of recycling and waste management works, even if specific personnel will handle the maintenance.”
“Noted—and I agree, of course.” Holly nodded. “Suggestions, Commander?” She glanced at Walker.
“We’ve already discussed rotating schedules when it comes to our respective specialties, which will help us get to know our peers. That’s not enough, not right away, since we have to get more used to being on board, but we should plan to do rotations in other departments. You had similar thoughts, Camilla.” The look he gave Camilla warmed Samantha’s heart. Walker had nourished a crush on Camilla when he was only fourteen and she a stunningly beautiful senior in high school. When Camilla heeded the well-known yearning to return to her hometown after fifty years in LA, they’d found each other, and the love between them was tangible.
“I do,” Camilla said and patted his hand, a habit that no difference in rank would break, Samantha knew. “Mental health and emotional stability mean we cannot allow ourselves to become complacent. We’re in a honeymoon phase of sorts. Everything’s shiny and new right now—the ship, being in space, this fantastic adventure—but that won’t last. We have to do rotations among ourselves as people as well.” She looked around the table.
“How do you mean?” Darian asked.
“We risk forming cliques. Lower desk versus bridge crew. Civilians versus crew. Young people versus the older generations. Those who are alone aboard the ship,” Camilla said—glancing at Philber, who didn’t appear to notice as he still was deep in thought at his notes—“and those who brought several family members or friends. We have to keep the doors open between these subgroups. All jobs matter to keep the Velocity running smoothly, and all of us as individuals count—equally.”
Claire straightened in her chair, then spoke. “We have a diverse group of people aboard,” she said slowly. “The biases and prejudice that exist back home haven’t magically been erased just because we’re all in the same situation while on this mission. Having different ethnicities well represented within the senior crew sets the tone, but I agree with Camilla. We can’t afford to become complacent, or naive, as much as we might hope we’ll all remain in this lovely sense of ‘us-against-the-universe kumbaya.’” She shrugged and pulled up one corner of her mouth in a half smile. “In my experience, eventually, no matter what their best intentions are, people are people.”
Samantha nodded. “Well said. And yes, as important as it is to be vigilant about our work, our assignments, to keep us all alive, the ones among us born privileged must recognize the truth in your words, Claire. As the senior crew, we can’t allow complacency, biases, or prejudice.”
“Agreed. Who has an NIEC and how the individual using one is chosen is another potentially combustible issue down the line,” Walker said. “Some may be relieved not to have to wear one, but others might eventually question why they don’t.”
Carl cleared his throat. “We have a golden opportunity with the youngest of our passengers, and crew too, to bring them along to help set a tone of tolerance.”
“You’re right,” said Brandon, who, with Raoul, had joined them in the middle of the discussion. As they took their seats, Raoul patted Carl on the back.
Brandon continued. “We should put what you all just said in writing. Make it part of our, well, not rules and regs, perhaps, but statement of principle. And let’s not kid ourselves. This trip is going to be a constant work in progress.”
“Lead by example on all fronts,” Samantha said as Darian took her hand under the table.
Holly rapped her fingernails against the table. “Camilla, Claire, Brandon, and Carl. Form a group and start working on the document.”
Samantha listened to them say “Yes, Captain,” but she focused primarily on how Darian caressed the back of her hand with her thumb. This journey would be challenging, but right now, with Darian by her side, she was optimistic. She was where she wanted to be, and if the others yearned for Dwynna Major as strongly as she did, so were they.
Part Two
Space
Chapter Ten
The alarm klaxons jolted Holly out of bed, nearly making her fall and break her neck, since her legs were still tangled in the blanket. It was the third time this week and was quickly getting old. After more than eight months in space, most of it at ISD speed, which she now knew all there was to know about, thanks to her captain’s NIEC—and to Claire—they were six light-years away from Earth. The technology that made it possible for the Velocity to move at such speeds—while at the same time calculate trajectories, avoid asteroids, meteors, and so on—was becoming, if not commonplace, then at least an everyday thing.
“Crowe to bridge. Report!” Tapping her speaker, Holly pulled on her uniform with practiced ease and attached her NIEC.
“We’re down to 75-percent ISD, again.” Samantha spoke curtly. “Can you feel the tremors, Captain?”
Holly was heading out into the corridor, but now she stopped. She was so accustomed to the Velocity’s usual faint hum, it wasn’t hard to distinguish the pulsating vibrations that pressed against the soles of her boots. “I do. I’m on my way. And cut the noise.” Damn it, this was more than the glitches they’d fixed earlier in the week. A simple reboot of the system had appeared to be enough, but perhaps they’d only managed to make the underlying problem worse. “Crowe to engineering.” Holly entered the elevator, which whisked her to the deck above her in a few seconds. The corridor between it and the bridge was filled with people hurrying to their duty stations.
“We’re all here, Captain,” Claire said over Holly’s speaker. “We’re running diagnostics, but I recommend reducing speed further until we’ve figured this problem out.”
Holly knew Claire was right, but it still irked her. “How much?” She took her chair and tapped the sensor that lit up all her screens and identified her as the captain. They flickered with so much information, she feared she might have a seizure if she didn’t slow them down.
“We need to limp along at 10 percent for a while.” Claire sounded about as disgusted with the idea as Holly felt. “As soon as we’ve located the issue, we’ll be back at 100 percent.”
“All right. I’ll work the problem from the bridge, but if you locate it from your end, page me. I want to see it firsthand.”
“Aye, Captain.” Claire’s clipped tone conveyed how focused she was on her task.
Holly turned her attention to the ops station, where Carl had just taken over the main computer. His hair stood on end, and he yawned behind his hand. “Carl. What do you have?”
“From my point of view, nothing’s wrong with our systems that raises any flags. Apart from the reduction in speed and the alarm going off because of it, all systems are a go.” Carl lifted his hands, palms up.
“Commander?” Holly shifted her gaze to Walker, who was reading his screens.
“None of the departments are reporting any malfunctions.” Walker scratched his temple. “Starting to think we have gremlins in the machinery.”
“Hm.” Holly turned forward and found Samantha waiting to give her report. “Go ahead.”
“I’m glad I was at the helm when it happened this time. The other two times, junior officers have manned the controls, and even if they reported back to me in minute detail, it’s not the same as a personal experience. At 0231 hours, I felt a faint tremor. Mere seconds after that, I could have sworn the ship rose under my feet. Or perhaps heaved is a better word. Then, after what felt like a short, sharp stomp, the reverberations began. That’s when the alarm went off.”
“Sounds like a mechanical problem,” Holly murmured and read from her screens.
“Not entirely. We may have a tactical situation,” Darian said from behind.
Standing up and rounding her chair, Holly walked over to the tactical station where Darian and Nate stood, their fingers flying across the sensors. “Go on.”
“I just got here, as Nate manned tactical, but he caught these coordinates instantly.” Darian swiveled one of the smaller screens. “This view shows that something other than space dust, asteroids, or meteors is out there.”
“And you’re sure about this?”
“We are, for a simple reason.” Darian exchanged a glance with Nate. “They’re on a parallel trajectory to ours, at the exact same speed.”
Holly blinked. “Excuse me?”
“That was my reaction,” Darian said.
“What distance?” Holly asked, her mind racing.
“Too close for comfort, I’d say,” Nate answered. “I’ve run the calculations on the star chart, and whatever’s out there is holding at eight kilometers.”
“Damn, that’s close,” Walker said as he showed up next to Holly. It was. In space that counted as bumper to bumper.
“I am scanning around the ship, and I widened the area we’re looking at to a radius of thirty kilometers.” Darian pulled several fingertips along the screen and then made a pinching motion. “Captain.” Her eyes narrowing, she stepped aside for Holly to read.
“You have four contacts.” Holly’s stomach felt as if she’d just downed ice water. “Two at thirty kilometers, on either side of us, and two at the same distance above and underneath us.”
“Should we increase speed and see if whatever it is does too?” Nate asked.
Holly was tempted but then shook her head. “No. At this point, we don’t know if the contacts have anything to do with living beings. They could be buoys or sensors. Or surveillance. We can surmise it’s not something organic to space.” Holly stepped to the side. “Keep monitoring these contacts. I’ll go down to engineering. If whatever’s out there is managing to disturb our ISD, I want to be of assistance there. Commander, you have the bridge back.”
“Aye, Captain.” Walker retook his chair. “Before you go, Captain, Camilla paged me that she’s setting up what she calls emotional triage in the mess hall for those who might find these alarms frightening, especially the children.”
“Excellent.” Holly hurried back to the elevator and rode it down to deck nine. Camilla was a godsend when it came to keeping the crew and passengers as mentally sound as possible. People of all ages simply adored her. When Holly asked her a while back who Camilla turned to when she needed a shoulder, or to vent, she simply smiled and said, “Who do you think, Captain?” then winked at Holly. Of course, Camilla turned to Walker. They lived together, and their love was obvious. It was good to know that Camilla helped keep frayed nerves at bay.
If deck three had been busy, engineering was controlled mayhem. Claire had her subordinates running diagnostics while she and two others were pulling on protective gear.
“Report,” Holly said as she stopped next to Claire.
“Ah, you’re here, Captain. Great. That means you can take over the main work console and another one of my ensigns can join us in the crawl spaces.” Claire walked over to the console as she motioned for the woman to gear up. “What can you tell me?”
Holly briefed Claire regarding what the bridge crew had found. “You have to be on the lookout for something that might seem manually turned off or manipulated, in case that’s what these contacts are able to do.”
Claire turned to her subordinates. “Did everyone understand what the captain just asked of us? You’re going to be responsible for one crawl space each, and you need to be thorough.”
“Yes, Chief,” Bergstrom, the young woman that had just vacated the main console, said. “We’re on it.”
“Good. If you find something, send the information to the captain, who’ll be monitoring. Do not touch anything until we’ve had a chance to evaluate and diagnose it properly. You don’t want to repeat my mistake from that first week after we broke orbit.”
Several people from the group in protective gear said, “No, Chief,” and one of them visibly shuddered, probably remembering Claire’s burns all too vividly.
“Let’s go then.” Claire nodded at Holly and began to walk toward the starboard-to-stern corner of engineering. Halfway there, she stopped, pulled off her helmet, and placed it on a work bench.
Holly had logged in as captain on the computer before her but kept a curious eye on Claire, who now pulled off her NIEC and reattached it. Frowning, Holly wondered what that was about and made a mental note to ask Claire later.
Soon, all four were deep into their respective crawl spaces, their suits registering heat and potential radiation. Holly found she could follow their individual progress by means of internal sensors, which made it marginally less worrisome to have the Velocity swallow them up into a dangerous area.
Ten minutes went by, and so far, none of the engineers had found anything out of the ordinary. Holly pulled a stool closer and sat down. She kept in contact with the bridge and learned that the mysterious contacts hadn’t shifted from their previous positions, maintaining the same course and speed as before.
“Darian.” Holly tapped her speaker, as she had just thought of something and dreaded the answer. “How often, and how wide, do you perform your scans?” She had a vague idea, but she had decided from day one not to micromanage her departments.
“We scan routinely whenever we go on each shift. Twenty-kilometer radius at regular setting. Five-kilometer radius on high resolution. If they’re both negative, we wait eight hours until the next one. I scanned with the high-resolution sensors on the other times we had issues with the propulsion earlier this week and found nothing. Either these things weren’t there, or they held at a longer distance.” Darian’s prompt answer was not reassuring. For all they knew, someone, or something, could have been out there stalking them for light-years.
