Obsidian Ressurection

by T J Bryan

  As Silvi and Abel approached the ship, Abel told Silvi to let him handle what was obviously a confrontation. Silvi nodded her head. She had no interest in arguing with the guild, but it was obvious in her demeanour that she had little respect for the guild in its' dotage and inevitable decline.

  Snorre turned and saw Abel approaching. "I'm delighted to see you here Chief Stoneman. I have an order here from the Judicar allowing me to regain control and possession of the Commonwealth's sweeper ship Quark. This obstreperous young man seems to be standing in the way of our lawful order."

  Abel closed in on Snoore's personal space. Their feet almost touched. "May I see the Judicar's order?"

  Snorre handed the paper to Abel and as he read Snorre continued to rant. "This young man has been operating, indeed attempting to pilot this commercial class two ship with a citizen's class four license. I'm surprised he hasn't crashed into the dock and caused mayhem and perhaps fatalities. No, he is not certified, and cannot be allowed to operate this ship under any circumstances."

  Abel read the Judicar's order and noticed that it was 'Provisional' and had been filed only two hours ago, and that there had been no notification to Lennie or Silvi that would allow them to respond to the Pilots Guild's claims. The one page order made reference to the Pilots Guild's motion, but the motion was not attached.

  Abel looked up. "I see the Guild motion is not attached. May I see it?"

  Snorre became very angry, "There is no need. The Judicar's order is explicit. This youngster and his sister are to vacate the ship immediately and cease piloting anything other than a class four citizens runabout. They are not certified and if they continue in this unlawful action there will be hell to pay."

  As Abel let Snorre rant on he remembered that not one of the Pilot's Guild members had attended Ingvar's memorial service. He realized that they disdained the slow sweeper Quark as something below them and that Ingvar, while a second class commercial pilot, was not really one of them; that is of the coterie of first class Guild pilots, most of whom had not piloted a ship in forty to fifty years. With no ships but the Queenies and Quark they were promoted in the old boy network on seniority, and not on time in the pilots seat, or through the bi-annual recertification test required of all citizen class four pilots. Of all of the current, and so called active members of the Guild, not one was under the age of 120. Not that someone of that age could not pilot a ship, but anyone when asked to choose a pilot of 140 years, or one of say 80, the choice was obvious. Abel also knew that Pilot's did not go inactive and that three pilots on the active list had passed on within the last month and that two others were confined to the Home of Rest where those with diminished faculties awaited their appointment with the Mother of God. Yet all five remained in 'active' service.

  "Abel," shouted Snorre as if Abel himself had become deaf, "I insist you enforce this order and if that youngster objects then you must remove him by force."

  As Snorre shouted the word 'force' spittle flew from his mouth and landed on the Chief's station suit. Abel looked down at the spittle, but Snorre didn't seem to care or he was unaware of the wet stain forming on Abel's chest.

  "So you are contending in your motion Snorre, which I have not seen, and which is not attached, and which neither of the Karrlson's have seen, that the two of them are not licensed or certified to pilot Quark. Even though they have lived on this ship for at least 14 years and have more than ten thousand hours at the helm? Both of them. Ten thousand hours each?"

  Snorre continued, "I don't give a damn how many hours they claim to have flown. For all I know their log books are a fraud. Something made up so they could look important. What I do know is that the Pilot's Guild will not allow them to operate or live upon this ship at any time. Not now, not in the future, not in a hundred years. Never."

  "And if they joined the Guild, passed the tests, and got a class two certification you would not let them fly?"

  "Never. They have proven themselves reckless intemperate youths with no respect for their superiors and without respect for the laws and Guild regulations. Not as long as I live will we accept those two."

  The thought passed Abel's mind that if Snorre kept yelling, and was unable to control his anger, he was quite likely meet the Mother of God right here on this dock and right now.

  Abel glanced at the other two fossilized pilots. Neither had spoken a word but their heads were shaking in agreement with Snorre like two ancient bobble head dolls.

  "You know of course Snorre, that we are in a state of emergency, and that I can suspend the Judicar's order, even if it is valid, which I suspect it is not."

  Snorre gasped. Few if anyone ever refused the order or the opinions of the Pilot's Guild or of the Judicar for that matter. Snorre's mouth was open and Abel spotted a decayed molar but Snorre said nothing. Then Snorre drew a deep breath and began another round of shouting, and invective, together with insults, directed no longer at Lennie but at Abel. In the corner of his eye he could see Silvi cringe, not at the challenge presented by Snorre, but at his ill temperament reinforced by his rather bad breath.

  Abel just stood there and listened to Snorre until he ran out of energy which given Snorre's age and health lasted no more that two minutes.

  "So you refuse to enforce the Judicar's order? Is that it? Your going to use the emergency status to allow these careless youth..." Snorre paused to draw in another deep breath, but instead began coughing uncontrollably. It took almost half a minute for Snorre to regain control and continue his rant. "These incautious and reckless youth cannot be allowed to run helter skelter about this Habitat. If you allow this madness then someone will get killed. Perhaps yourself. Possibly all of us if they crash into the Habitat."

  Abel could see that Snorre had run out of steam. "Snorre, I think I understand the Pilots Guild's position, however, I really need to see your motion and the response of Ingvar's talented son and daughter before I can enforce the order. I say this under the powers granted to me under the emergency condition we unfortunately find ourselves in. I also need to speak directly with the Judicar. This order seems to me incomplete and as is stated at the top of the form the order is 'Provisional.'

  Snorre was about to begin another rant when Robert Sanofi reached for Snorre's arm and motioned they should leave. At least Robert had the sense to know that yelling and argument at this time of night was simply a waste of time and energy. Robert also looked worried about Snorre's ranting, and his emotional state, if not his health. Moments later the three representatives of the Pilot's Guild turned and ambled off toward the air lock. Just before entering the hatch, Snorre turned and yelled, "Your not going to get away with this Abel. I'm going directly to the Chairman and if he won't help I'll bring this up before the entire council." Moments later the hatch cycled close and Abel heard only the breathing of Lennie who had remained silent through the entire demonstration of Snorre's clumsy power play.

  "Come on Lennie. Button up the ship. It's best you leave her empty for now until I can get this matter cleared up. I don't want to bias the council or the Judicar. I'll post a police officer as watch. Nothing will happen until I see the Judicar and the Chairman. You can stay at my place tonight with Silvi or perhaps both of you can bunk down on 1033. Which every you want."

  ...

  Jamon System - Chairman's Office - Year 3245. May 30 ET: Time 09:10

  "I understand Abel," the Chairman finally said. "But the Guild is very influential on the Council, one might say powerful. I know that their proficiency at piloting, and even for that matter their competence, has dramatically declined in recent years, however, they retain a great deal of respect among the citizens. Especially those citizens who never have the opportunity or need to fly with them. Of all the groups and associations in the Commonwealth probably the only group that would agree with you Able is the Miners Guild. They have to fly on the Queenies nearly every week to and from their digs on the asteroids. The Miners might support you, but few others would."

  A
bel responded in his frustration, "Can we at least buy time to complete the survey and transport the critical materials needed to repair the habitat or for that matter build the new starship?"

  "Yes, we buy some time. But the Guild says they will bring the matter to a head at the next council meeting in three weeks. At that point I am not sure what will happen."

  The Chairman's doubt about the outcome of the Guilds motion before the Council was a surprise to Abel. Abel knew that the Chairman was a master at politics and nothing ever happened in the Council that he had not manipulated, controlled, or predicted the outcome. On the matter of loosing control of Quark to the Pilot's Guild the unpredictability of the outcome came as a total surprise.

  The Chairman paused a moment to gather his thoughts. "I guess we can place some performance requirements on the Guild when the take control."

  Abel noticed that he had said 'when they take control' rather than 'if' they take control.

  "Abel why don't you draw up some conditions for their assertion of authority. Perhaps so many flights out to the zone every week, or some other easily measured metric that we can bring to the council's attention if they mismanage their responsibilities. We can always include in any agreement that they must meet certain fulfilment goals under penalty of having Karrlson's resume the flights."

  Abel wanted to object but he knew it was hopeless.

  The Chairman stood as if to dismiss Abel. "Oh, by the way Chief, what did the Pilot's Guild say about that ship of yours? The SAR Frigate?"

  "Not much. They waited more than two weeks before inspecting the ship. Milne Ulf was the only one to visit. He seemed quiet annoyed, as if we had interrupted his lunch, or if he were a younger man, a much younger man, a hot date. He came by had trouble climbing the ladder from 'B' deck to the bridge. Took a long look at the pilots station, while ignoring the other stations, and then kicked the slagged command comp frame as if in disgust. Then he left. Didn't say a word. But I'm sure not only did nothing meet his approval, but that he was unimpressed, and even uninterested in the ship and its' controls."

  "Not surprising," the Chairman responded. "The Guild is set in their ways and see things only through their own set of preconceptions and experiences. In any event keep up the daily reports. I'll stall them as long as I can, but the Council meeting is in three weeks."

  Abel turned, left the meeting, and returned to 1033.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jamon System - Dock One - Ship 1033 - Year 3245. May 30 ET: 09:32

  As Abel entered the hatch of 1033 he noticed the power cable had been removed and that the interior of the ship was dark. A few battery lights had been placed on the deck where the passage turned or navigation was tricky. The roundabout was nearly black but some light was streaming from above on the bridge and he could hear the voices of Emmitt and Helen talking.

  Once through the upper hatch Abel greeted Helen and Emmitt as well Silvi. All three were clad in Greayson ship suits. Silvi was wearing her red shorts and tank top, while Emmitt was dressed in orange and Helen in Green. Lennie, he knew was piloting the Quark on today's survey of the zone. Both Lennie and Silvi had spent the night aboard in one of the ships four small crew's quarters.

  "Let me suit up," said Abel. He had worn his ES Chief's suit to the meeting with the Chairman and if they were going to try to power up 1033 he wanted everyone in Greayson advanced ship suits.

  Abel retired to what they now knew was the tiny Captain's quarters, found the suit hanging on the wall, removed his clothes and his underwear as the suit instructions insisted, and pulled on the suit. Within moments the suit activated and adjusted or rather conformed to Abel's body. The suit had no discernable weight or even feel. If anything it felt like nothing - only nudity. Abel reached for the white shorts and tank top, that Helen had left for him, and while pulling up the shorts noticed the astonishing way in which the suit accommodated his body. Even Abel who was rather inured to mayhem, gore, and carnage given his years on the force, found the complete nudity of the silver skin of the suit a bit embarrassing. He pulled on the shorts and then the tank top. All was well. He returned to the bridge dressed in silver and white.

  Silvi had informed them that the suits were self contained and that one could easily if uncomfortably live in the suit for over a week. Bodily functions could be managed by the suit, but prolonged wearing of the suit was not recommended. If one stayed too long in the suit one had to take the suit to the purser's station, toss it into the cycler, and have issued a new one. And a long shower might well be advised.

  "Ok, everyone ready?" asked Abel.

  Helen responded first. "We have been over these check list on a cold restart since yesterday. There is not much to it. Well I guess that's true if nothing goes wrong."

  Emmitt interrupted, "In an almost three hundred year old starship what can possibly go wrong."

  Helen laughed. Silvi looked serious.

  "All right." Abel took his inter-tab from where he had left it on the Captains' chair and opened the tab to his plan check list. The had chosen not to notify anyone of their plan to restart the ships engines for fear that the Pilot's Guild might object. Better to do this quietly they had agreed. He quickly reviewed the list and asked a dozen detailed questions going down his checklist. He reached the last item. "Ok, looks like were good to go. Silvi as we agreed I want you outside on the dock in case anything goes wrong."

  Silvi nodded and headed toward the hatch to 'B' deck.

  Able shouted, "And don't forget to close the door."

  Silvi looked up and gave Abel her best dirty look.

  Moments later the inter-tab message indicated that Silvi was at the dock and that she had manually closed the four internal hatches as she left as well as the dock hatch.

  "Well, were good to go," Abel sighed with some concern in his voice.

  Emmitt sat at the Maintenance Station, the MS. Helen stood by with the 'cheat sheet' card in her hand. The display at the MS was dead and the dim illumination of the battery lights gave the whole bridge a odd feeling as if they were somewhere half way between life and death.

  I wonder if they had this much light when crossing the River Styx Abel wondered.

  Helen read off the first item from the list, "Open the Restart Panel. Location MS upper left above the main vid screen."

  Emmitt repeated Helen's instruction, "Opening the Restart Panel, MS upper left above the vid screen." Emmitt stood for a moment and reached for a latched panel that Abel had not noticed before. With the twist of two 'D' latches the small panel opened to reveal a series of green tell-tales and one much larger flashing red one. In the midst of the small panel was something that looked to Abel as nothing more than an ancient 'knife switch.'

  Helen went to the next step. "Engage switch tab."

  Emmitt replied, "Engaging switch tab." Then he reached for the switch and threw the switch closed. Nothing happened. But within a moment or two one dead status light on the MS panel lit up and the red flashing light at the restart panel turned green .

  Helen went to the next item. "Toggle Restart. Restart switch the large blue square one to the left of the keyboard."

  "Toggling restart now." Emmitt sat and reached for the switch next to the keypad and pressed hard.

  Nothing happened.

  "Takes four minutes according to the cheat sheet," Helen reminded everyone.

  Abel looked at the timer on his inter-tab. After almost four minutes of silence they all felt a mild vibration. And then the interior lights came on and Abel could feel and hear the soft singing of fans. The MS panel lit up and the vid-screen flashed and began streaming a rapid flow of data.

  Abel realized that he had been holding his breath and exhaled. Emmitt and Helen did the same. The ship was alive. Un-flyable but alive.

  The dead Environmental Station, ES, sprang to life as well and Helen moved quickly to read the now streaming vid screen. Helen looked down from the screen to her check list again. "The cheat sheet says it's best to do nothing afte
r a cold start for about ten minuets, unless it is a combat emergency. So I guess we will wait."

  Abel took a nervous walk about the small bridge and its' control stations. The command stations were dead, but status lights and small vid screens on the bulkhead were coming to life. Since there were no windows as such on the bridge Abel saw nothing outside the ship. He had hoped that the restoration of power might activate the sensors and visibility systems, but nothing happened. They must be part of the command comp he realized.

  The inter-tab chimed. It was Silvi saying the running lights were on and that she wanted to return to the ship. "How do we open the dockside hatch from the bridge?" Abel asked.

  Emmitt replied, "One way is from the MS. Give me a moment. I know there is a vid screen menu for control for the hatches. Ah, there it is." Emmitt activated a set of tabs and the vid screen flashed 'Hatch 4B Open.' Moments later Silvi climbed onto the bridge.

  Silvi stood smiling as she looked at the now living status vids and lights of the ES and MS. "Well, if they thought old 1033 was dead they'll know for sure were now alive. The running lights are on and they are blindingly bright."

  "I can kill those lights. Let's see." Emmitt turned his attention to the MS panel again. It took him a while to find the menu item to suppress the ships running lights but soon the ship had returned to its' externally blacked out state.

  As they waited both Emmitt and Helen drew out more cheat sheets and concentrated on examining the now alive EM and MS work stations.

  "My, my." said Emmitt to no one in particular.

  Abel returned to the MS and stood behind Emmitt as he read the large vid screen in the center of the console. Helen stood.

  Emmitt turned to both Abel and Helen, "Seems we have 408 items requiring maintenance. Five of which are labelled 'critical.' Forty three are urgent. And the remainder are cautionary. The critical items are all concerning the command comp and the flight stations. Not surprising I guess. After all the maintenance on this ship has been deferred longer than our critical maintenance on the Habitat." Emmitt chuckled at his own joke and in doing so broke the tension on the bridge.