by C. W Tickner
‘Nine dropships?’ Harl asked.
‘Yes.’
‘There were ten docking spaces,’ he said, remembering Kane making a point of it before the accident.
‘Who can say for sure,’ Tess said. ‘It was long ago.’
‘And why did the first settlers not know about the Aylen?’ Harl asked, thinking going down to the surface blind was foolish.
‘Who knows?’ Tess said. ‘Like I said, we only have partial information. Although your dropship may complete some of our records.’
‘How so?’ Harl asked.
‘When the dropship connected to Orbital we received a relay of data, lots of it, but it will take some time to decrypt.’ she said. ‘But in the meantime I’m intrigued by what Delta’s drop speciality was?’
Harl had no idea.
‘Maybe Kane knows,’ he said. ‘He might be able to answer better than me.’
‘That’s neither here nor there,’ Damen said. ‘He’s not fit to answer and we don’t need a history lesson. We need somewhere to live. The main question I have is how’d we get this big ol’ ship to fly?’
Marlin and Tess looked confused, but Turpin burst out laughing, alcohol fumes included.
‘Make it fly?’ Turpin said once he’d turned red from the effort.
‘Yes,’ Damen said, equally colourful. ‘Is this not a ship?’
Tess spoke up at this. ‘It is a ship, yes, Damen, and although Turpin finds it amusing, I understand why you think it may fly, but the simple reason is-’
Lights hidden at the base of the walls began to flash red, cutting Tess off. She jumped up, followed by. Marlin and Turpin, and the three of them rushed for the door.
‘Oxygen warning,’ Marlin said, seeing the panic of Harl’s face, as he beckoned Harl, Damen, and Gorman towards the door. ‘Most likely a false alarm.’
‘After the meteoroids in the docking bay,’ Tess said, ‘I doubt it.’
‘Where do we go?’ Damen asked, looking at the walls as if they were about to collapse in on him.
‘Stay calm,’ Marlin said. ‘Our procedure is to gather in an enclosed, air regulated area. We have a deck that we’re able to control. If there’s a leak then we can stay safe while the engineers work on it.’
They moved to the nearest elevator, Damen guiding Gorman as they crammed into the small space. Marlin punched the numbered buttons and they waited for the doors to open. Harl hoped the air hadn’t been sucked out of whatever level they were heading to. His heart skipped a beat.
Sonora.
Chapter 4
Power! Someone has managed to restore power to the ship. They probably just saved the ten thousand lives on board and deserve a promotion. Time to find out where we are and whether or not we have arrived.
‘They’re fine,’ Tess said, putting a hand on Harl’s shoulder.
He had hurtled through the ship’s corridors in an attempt to find Sonora, but there was no sign of her when he reached the survival deck.
The vast deck was crowded. Harl guessed that the ship’s entire population, including the people from the planet, had been ushered inside. The main part of the deck was an open space thronged with people. Some were sitting, but others milled about while workers carried cargo boxes to the rooms off the side. The outer edge of the square deck space was lined with single door rooms big enough for a family to stay in while the emergency was dealt with. Tunnels ran off around the outskirts where work and supply rooms were located.
‘The medical deck has already been evacuated, so she’ll be in the medical room,’ Tess said pointing across the level. ‘Medical has priority use of the elevators in an emergency, so she arrived well before anyone else. We have a fully equipped room here just in case. She and the baby will be in good hands, as will your friend.’
Harl wasn’t so sure. This place already seemed dangerous and they’d barely been here a day.
‘There are still things we need to discuss before you go to your wife, but let me assure you that this is the safest place on the ship,’ she said. ‘It’s directly in the middle so that it provides the safest location during an emergency. We use half the deck for storage, but there are also sections for medical, engineering, even small farms and basic water filtering systems. All of it sits in this one level and separate from the main ship.’
Marlin took Gorman’s arm and led them towards a large room off the main space. They walked past small cubicle rooms, each with a family inside who were unpacking bags onto bunk beds while they chatted. They seemed unconcerned as though this was a regular occurrence.
The room Marlin led them to was packed with half-working computer displays that surrounded a central meeting table.
‘From here we can monitor the ship’s vital systems – at least the parts we still use – and figure out what the problem is,’ Marlin said. ‘We’ve enough food and water to last until the problems are fixed. Turpin, give our guests a run down of what we have here… Turpin?’ Marlin had turned and to everyone’s surprise – and Harl’s relief – the unfriendly man had split from them in the bustle outside.
‘Busy, I should imagine,’ Marlin said.
‘What about the other parts of the ship?’ Gorman asked. He reached out for a handhold, letting go of Marlin and sighed as he slid into one of the worn chairs that surrounded the central table.
‘We’ve no need to use most of the ship,’ Marlin said. ‘It was designed for a much bigger population. We are way below capacity, even with the addition of your people. The maintenance of every deck alone would be impossible if we tried to occupy the whole thing. You see Orbital is split into several main sections. We live in only the front half of the ship, which is separated from the rear by the docks and the extensive impact damage that we’ve suffered over the years. Damage has sealed off vast areas, most of which have not been explored in living memory. The highest decks at the front are the science and medical areas, from where Tess operates. Directly underneath are the living quarters, gardens and market place, where most of us reside. Further down are the farms, manufacturing and recycling decks, and the water decks are at the lowest point. There are additional storage decks in between the main levels, but they’re used by private industry and entertainment.’
‘And the rear of the ship?’ Harl asked, eager to know the place his child might grow up in, however bleak that future looked.
‘Engineering houses the reactor. It sits between the upper and lower storage decks,’ Marlin said. ‘Most have been cleaned out and the rest sealed off years ago.’
Harl thought Marlin sounded uncomfortable, but before he could wonder any more, the door opened automatically and a light shone straight in Harl’s eyes, blinding him. He put his arms up to ward off the beam, almost falling back on to the table.
‘Screw, turn it off,’ Tess said, squinting at the new arrival.
‘Sorry, lass,’ a gravelly voice said and to Harl’s relief the light clicked off, letting his vision to recover.
‘Any injuries?’ she asked.
‘Only Finch,’ the man said. ‘He’s had worse. Found a crate of medical supplies, though. Fair trade if you ask me.’
Tess frowned. ‘I’ll be the judge of that. I’ll go patch him up and you can introduce yourself to our guests.’
Harl’s sight returned, bringing a large greasy hand into view. He blinked one final time and caught a glimpse of Tess as she walked out the door.
‘Name’s Screw,’ the middle-aged man said, grinning underneath a peaked yellow hard hat. The blinding light had been built into it just above the peak and was mercifully switched off.
Harl clasped the hand. It was slippery with oil. He looked the man up and down, taking in the vast array of tools strapped across Screw’s burly chest and the rugged face smiling at beneath a sheen of oil and sweat. Underneath the scratched helmet Harl could make out wispy strands of blond hair drooping down to a coating of rough stubble around the man’s chin. The tools chinked as the burly man bent at the knees and placed a battered
metal suitcase that he was holding on the floor. Spanners, wrenches, and screwdrivers were nestled in holders on the jacket so that a tool could be pulled from either side when needed. It almost looked like a strange kind of armour and Harl wondered what would happen if someone swung a sword against it.
‘Harl Eriksson,’ he said, remembering his manners.
‘Excuse the grease,’ Screw said, making a half-hearted attempt to wipe it off on a dirty rag knotted on his belt. ‘Only just got back from a hunt.’
‘A hunt?’ Damen asked, professionally interested.
‘Scavenging,’ Marlin said. ‘Screw’s our chief engineer, but does go gallivanting off on dangerous missions to find treasure tucked away in the older sections of the ship. Can leave us high and dry sometimes.’
‘You didn’t seem to mind when I brought that marble chess set out from the depths of that broken elevator shaft,’ Screw said. ‘And there I was thinking you might like this.’ He reached into a cloth pouch tied to his belt and extracted a delicate silver pipe.’
Marlin’s face lit up.
‘You’re a wonderful man, Screw,’ he said, reaching for the gift.
Screw pulled back the trophy. ‘Could we arrange for our guests and me to have warm baths after this is all sorted?’ He winked at Harl as Marlin snatched the pipe.
‘I’m sure we could arrange something,’ Marlin said, twirling the pipe in his soft hands. ‘Now tell us, what’s going on?’
Screw’s face turned grave. ‘The meteoroids shattered an air duct inside the docks. My men have almost fixed it, but it’s a patch job. We need to replace the pipe section completely or, in a few days, the leak‘ll expand. If we don’t fix it, the pipe will eventually crack along the horizontal and we loose the whole ventilation system in that area.’
‘It’s bad then?’ Marlin asked, frowning.
‘The section in question is half the living quarter decks. If the pipe goes fully, then we’re out of there for good.’
‘How have we never had such a problem before?’ Marlin asked as he slipped the pipe into his pocket.
‘It’s inside the docks,’ Screw said. ‘Never been opened before. So never had the problem.’
‘Maybe you could use some of the parts from our ship?’ Gorman asked.
‘Fraid not ol’ timer,’ Screw said, locking on to Gorman’s blank stare. ‘Already thought of that one. Wrong size.’
‘Could you melt it down?’ Harl asked, thinking of his tool-making days. ‘Forge a new one?’
‘It’s all about metal quality,’ Screw said. ‘Has to be practically the same or it’ll wear thin against the old stuff.’
The radio on both Marlin’s cloth belt and Screw’s leather utility harness crackled into life.
‘Tess here,’ she said, ‘I think the skinny guy is coming around.’
‘Kane?’ Harl asked, talking to the radio Screw held out to him.
‘He’s not awake yet,’ Tess replied. ‘I think you should come down here, though. Your wife has been asking for you.’
‘Oh dear,’ Damen said. ‘He’s in trouble.’
‘He’s in no such thing, Damen,’ Gorman said, rising from the chair. ‘Come on lad,’ the blind man said, grabbing Harl’s arm. ‘You may have a thousand people looking to you for answers, but when a woman calls, you’d better get there pronto and have a damn good reason for being late.’
Two boys stampeded towards Harl and Gorman, their footfalls echoing off the tunnel walls, dampened by the wet moisture collection sheets on either side. Their heads whipped left and right as they passed doors and passages that ran around the outskirts of the survival deck. Harl recognised one. It was Luke, from his home tank. The other boy – judging by his dark complexion – was from Oscar’s land. They skidded to a halt in front of Harl and Gorman, gasping, unable to get words out.
‘What is it, Luke?’ Harl asked.
Luke’s words stammered out as he struggled to regain his breath. ‘Got them… trapped in… airlock.’
‘Who, lad?’ Gorman said.
‘The shippies have them trapped, mister.’
‘Shippies?’ Harl asked, unused to the word, but suspecting its meaning.
‘The ones who live here,’ the other boy said.
‘Explain,’ Gorman said.
Luke took a deep breath. ‘Some crazy shippy has got our people locked in an airlock. He’s going to kill them.’
Adrenaline shot through Harl at the words, chilling him to the bone. ‘Take us,’ he said.
Harl ran behind the boys, Gorman clutching his hand as he led the blind man, navigating the sharp turns, calling left and right before he took each bend.
The boys led them to a narrow room lined with airlocks on one side. Like a cargo warehouse, the shelves lining the opposite wall were crammed with scrap metal and ancient-looking boxes. Cubic storage areas were set at regular intervals beneath the shelves. Harl had no idea what they might once have contained, but they had been turned in to giant compost bins that were overflowing with rotting cloths, each heap in a different state of decomposition.
People from both the planet and station were clustered around a single airlock door at the far end of the room.
‘Let ‘em go!’ a woman’s voice called.
‘Flush them out,’ another yelled.
‘Go get Damen and Marlin, boys,’ Harl said, leaving them behind the throng as he headed into the crowd.
Harl couldn’t see the airlock door as he jostled through the thickest part of the group, but one man’s voice rose in a fervour above the jeers and pleading of the crowd.
‘- Outsiders unwilling to adapt to our balanced way of life, stealing water beyond their allowance.’
Harl shoved a muscular engineer aside, locking eyes with him as the man turned, but through sheer will, forced him to look away. Maybe it was Gorman’s powerful presence behind him, but they didn’t have time and he wouldn’t be bullied when lives were at stake.
The speaker was a thin, ragged man, reminding Harl of Rufus. His beady eyes were full of malice as he casually waved a knife, pointing it back to the circular glass porthole in the airlock door.
A group of scared faces were squeezed against the glass on the opposite side, trying to see out, their mouths opening and closing like a captured fish behind the soundproof barrier as they shouted for help.
‘What’s happening?’ Gorman asked as they made it to the front of the onlookers.
‘A man is threatening to open the outer door. Some of our people are in inside the airlock.’
The man continued his preaching. There was alcohol on his breath as he paced back and forth, unsteadily.
‘They will drink us dry and leave our farms bare if we do nothing,’ the man said and the crowd roared back. Some agreed with nods and calls, but most faces looked fearful, caught up in something beyond their control.
‘Is he armed?’ Gorman whispered.
‘He’s got a knife.’
‘Left or right hand?’
‘Right,’ Harl said, wondering what Gorman intended.
‘These invaders...,’ the man said, spotting the two newcomers and eyeing their clothing. He pointed his free hand at them. ‘Will bleed us dry if we lie down and let them take over our home.’
‘Let these people go,’ Gorman said.
The man had been about to stroll to the door, but stopped and turned on them.
‘They’re thieves,’ he said indignant that an outsider had given him an order. ‘Stole a weeks worth of water and as much food. They must be punished.’
Gorman had shuffled imperceptibly forward and, as the man walked back down the front row towards them, his pointed finger brushed the blind man’s torso.
Gorman reacted. Stepping in close, he seized the finger in one hand as his other slid along the man’s chest and ran down the arm to the man’s knife-wielding hand. He gripped hard and twisted, throwing the man to the floor.
Harl snatched up the knife as it spun to his feet, taking it out of reac
h as the man moaned beneath Gorman and spun to face the crowd. No one had moved to help the man.
‘Break it up!’ A troop of Orbital security barged through the throng. They raised their guns at Harl, who, knife in hand looked like the culprit.
‘Drop the weapon!’ the nearest said, holding him steady at the point of his gun.
The blade clattered to the floor as Harl tried to explain what had happened.
‘He has hostages in the airlock.’
A grinding of gears whirred behind him and he spun as vibrations shook the floor. Red lights flashed from the small window in the door where desperate faces crowded the glass. Their mouths were open as they screamed in silence. A sudden schunk sounded and Harl rushed to the window. The exterior airlock was open, sucking the people out into the abyss of endless space. Their bodies twirled slowly in the black beyond as Harl smashed his fists against the metal.
When he felt his muscles spasm in protest, he turned to the dozens of watchers, breathing hard. Someone in the crowd had pressed the outer door button during the confusion.
Chapter 5
We just encountered a woman with cryo corruption wandering the corridors. She was wailing that she was lost and needed to get back before her husband came home. I wonder how many more are affected in the same way? It was a shame there was no time to do tests before we left Earth.
A guard captain radioed Marlin and by the time her arrived the crowd had grown. Soldiers had piled in and, to Harl’s annoyance, seemed less concerned when they realised it was not Orbital’s citizens who had been ejected.
Harl explained what had happened, feeling cold inside at the poor souls floating dead outside.
‘This is unacceptable,’ Marlin said, shaking his head as he rested both hands on the airlock door and peered through the porthole. He turned back to scowl at the man who’d trapped the victims. Two guards had a firm grip on him.
‘Let this be a warning,’ Marlin said. ‘This man has killed these good people. Maybe he didn’t eject them, but the principle is the same. This will not be tolerated.’ He tilted his head to the door which had been opened after re-pressurisation. ‘Put him inside.’
