“Jazz, what’s the status in engineering?” Sudden and unexpected weightlessness among their delicate equipment could become a problem there.
She watched Tango get control of himself as he grabbed an arm of his chair and wedged himself in at the helm. He shook his head to clear it and cast a desperate glance at her.
She frowned. “Keep the ship steady.”
“Not easy,” he grunted. “Weight is shifting all over her. She’s out of balance.”
“Program the ship to factor in adjustments.”
Jazz’s red hair danced straight up in the air, looking as if it were on fire. “They’ve found the problem and are attempting repairs. They need a part to replace a damaged—” her communication officer peered down at a handheld, “—J sprocket and 2400 L gravimeter.” Raising her head, she eyed Elise. “Jimbo says it stinks of sabotage.”
Nodding, Elise agreed, “I sniff that a bit, myself. Okay, connect me to Captain Dance on The Explorer. I’ll ask if he’s got an extra.”
She stepped up to the fleet’s communication board, and Jazz handed her the comm while Tate flailed toward them from the corridor.
Jazz grabbed Elise’s arm as Elise drifted a bit, lost in thought as to what to say. She keyed the mic. “Captain Dance, this is Captain Elise Fujeint on The New Found Hope.” The transmitter crackled. She snatched an edge of the board to secure herself and held on. She tilted her head at Jazz’s comm board.
Jazz released her and picked up her own comm to continue monitoring the ship.
“Elise, is that really you? I heard you were out but wanted to give you time to get acclimated.” Charles’s familiar voice was balm on her wounds.
“Yes, it’s really me. Charles, we have a situation.” She batted away a pair of floating music earbuds that resembled flying bumblebees. “Our graviton has malfunctioned and the ship has lost gravity. Do you have an extra—” she peered down at her handheld, “—J sprocket and 2400L gravimeter?”
“I’ll check. Maybe. Or the supply ship Storage Locker, might. They can 3D print any ship part, but it takes time. If I have an extra, it will be quicker.”
“Right. Didn’t think of the Storage Locker. It all happened so fast, but the sooner I get this fixed the better I’ll like it.”
“Understood. I’ll try to dig one out for you. You might want to order a backup for the future. I’m glad you called. We’re running low on water and so are a number of other ships. There’s an asteroid cluster not far out that we want to investigate. I’ll transmit the location to your navigator. Most likely Commander Reardon will rendezvous the fleet there. Meanwhile, I’ll locate your part and shuttle it over as soon as possible.”
“I’d really appreciate that. This dealing with zero gravity is ridiculous and dangerous.”
“I can imagine. Dance out.”
With a sigh, Elise disconnected and swiveled to face Tango who studied her intently.
“Captain Dance will try to locate a part. Meanwhile, his navigator will send coordinates for a rendezvous to an asteroid cluster where the fleet plans to refill our water tanks.”
Straightening up, Jensen tapped the board. “It’s coming across now.” The motion set him rocking up and down as he grabbed the edge of his station to steady himself. His jaw clenched in frustration, then he began to input the new coordinates and plot the suggested course with one hand while holding his board to steady himself with the other.
Jazz glanced up. Excitement lit her face. “They found our part. Engineering is getting the package ready. Their medical Director wants to come too and meet with Dr. Luttrell.”
Meet with Luttrell? Elise wondered about that. She should make damn sure she was at that meeting. “Give him the green light and inform shuttle bay of an arrival. Tell them to secure anything floating. I don’t want to dent our savior’s windshield with flying objects when he arrives. Convey to Captain Dance our thanks.”
She surveyed the bridge. Most of the loose items were now locked down. Everything appeared calm for the moment.
“Tango, you have the bridge. I’ll be at the Medlab.”
He nodded.
She turned to exit, signaling Trajan to follow her.
Chapter 9
Better and Better
“John.”
She stood outside the Medlab entrance, impatient.
A woman opened the panel, and she saw John raise a warding hand at her while he gave last minute instructions to a cluster of lab assistants. Three of his assistants wafted up to a cabinet and began to load vials into a rectangular plastic box.
He pushed off from a table and swam over to her. “Gads, Elise. What happened? I’ve got sensitive equipment and vials bouncing every which a way. It’s a dangerous situation.”
“We lost gravity, obviously. Didn't you hear my ship announcement?”
He fluttered a hand at her. “Been busy.”
She shifted, suddenly aware of bobbing breasts. His eyes dropped downward as if he’d read her thoughts. Embarrassed, she shuffled over to the table and glared at him, attempting to regain her composure. “I want to be involved in any discussions with the Explorer’s Medical Director.”
His head slanted up and an eyebrow raised. “If you insist, fine. But shouldn’t you be handling our gravity crisis? We plan to discuss birth control and sterilization options for the fleet. Eric has talked to other ship medical units to get their input. We have to do this as a whole or it won’t be effective. I’m sending him some birth control patches.”
She tightened her mouth. The vials of liquid didn’t look like birth control patches to her. Besides, his was not the final say on how they should handle any birth control strategy. He had a say, yes, but not the final say. That would be up to Commander Reardon.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she faced him, gold cuffs on display, breasts covered. “Engineering is getting the necessary parts from The Explorer. So, I expect our gravity situation will soon be solved. If it’s sabotage, then who’s doing it is still a problem. Bottom line, we need to produce more food and resources while decreasing population growth. I prefer birth control methods like injections or a patch.” She glanced at the box as it headed toward them. “I’m not sure sterilization is the answer. To continue the species, we need to be fertile.”
He frowned at her. “The patch is subject to the discipline of the person adhering it. Right now I have little faith in our passengers’ self-discipline. Still, you have a fair point.”
His agreement encouraged her. She tightened her expression to drive her point home. “I plan to find us a place to live… to thrive. We’ll need to make babies after we find it.”
He gave her one of his wide grins. “We could practice without fear until then. I’m sure there’ll be a way to reverse the effect later.”
A rustle from Trajan distracted her. He took a step toward her. “We need to go, Captain. The shuttle is coming in.”
A curly-haired aide with a sweet smile handed the box to John who grinned down at her. She returned his smile, practically quivering.
A spurt of anger suffused Elise. She became mad at him, and then at herself for allowing him to affect her so strongly. She spun around to leave and forgot the reaction of momentum in zero gravity. She found herself flailing the air for something to stop her spinning. A large, tan hand reached out and grabbed an arm as Trajan abruptly stopped her and whisked them both out the door.
John followed behind, propelling the large plastic box through the air ahead of him.
***
Good Lord, Charles came in person.
Captain of The Explorer, Charles Dance, bounded out of the shuttle with a big smile and handed her a large box.
Charles Dance himself.
She handed the box over to an eager engineer who immediately rushed off with it. She laughed. “How did you get them to let you off your ship?”
He pulled up, indignant. “I’m the Captain. I ordered it.”
“So that’s how it works.” She slanted
her head.
“On my ship, it does.”
Next to her, John chuckled. “Charlie Dance! What a pleasure to see you again.”
Dance put out a hand to shake. “So it’s the notorious John Luttrell. Didn’t know you were out of cryo, too. Great to see you, buddy.”
“Dr. Luttrell, if you don’t mind.” They shook hands.
Charles rubbed his face, a prominent nose and bright blue eyes dominating that comfortable visage. “Hard to believe they let you graduate, Luttrell.”
“It’s true. I scammed them all.”
Charles sighed and stared off across the shuttle bay. “If Emily were here, the four terrors in our astronaut training group would be united once again.”
“Isn’t she out of cryo yet?”
“No.” Charles glanced down. He gave a sigh. “No, and I should keep her in cryo. She’d only be a distraction, an extra mouth, and at risk. No, she’s better off in cryo. Meanwhile, I’ll be an old man by the time I revive her.”
John clapped him on the back. “Charles, you’re the captain.”
“And a responsible one … so she stays put for now. Which reminds me ...” He turned to a quiet companion who had left the shuttle to join their group. He angled his head in the man’s direction. “Eric says he needs to talk with you. You have something for us. I understand that you two know each other from before and are trying to figure out how to solve our current population problem.”
“I know Dr. Luskin, but Elise hasn’t met him.”
Charles turned to the man. “Captain Fujeint, I’d like you to meet Dr. Eric Luskin, Medical Director of The Explorer.”
A thin pale face smiled wanly at her. He tentatively put out a hand to shake and, as she grasped it, she noticed a red rash on his wrist and hand.
A birthmark or burn of some sort? He hastily pulled his hand back when he saw her stare at it. He appeared embarrassed by the blotch.
Fidgeting, Charles said, “Elise, now I need a favor. We’ve had a few hens die off recently, and I need a few of yours to keep the coop going.”
She knew the farm module would be upset if she gave away chickens, but Charles had just done them an enormous favor bringing the gravimeter so quickly. She’d have to deal with repercussions from the Ag unit later. Smiling, she said, “Not a problem. Let me call, and if you can come in and wait on the bridge, you can take them back right now. Save you a trip.”
“Better yet,” John grabbed Charles’s arm, “come to the Med lab. I’ll let both of you evaluate my latest brew while I show you around. My assistants would love to meet you. They’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
She snorted at the remark. She expected they would make a huge fuss. The well-respected Charles Dance in their midst? Those women would swoon and wet themselves.
Just then her comm burped. Answering it, she heard Jimbo from engineering say, “Captain, you can make your announcement anytime now. I’ll give you ten minutes after you do, and then, I’ll flip the switch. We should have gravity back. Make sure all on board are prepared for the return.”
“Excellent. I’m headed back to the bridge right now. I’ll send out the message as soon as I get there. Thank you, Jimbo. Captain out.”
Flicking off her comm, she turned to her companions. “Great! They got it installed. Got to go back to the bridge.” She leaned in to hug Charles. “I’m glad you came. So good to see you. So good.” Her eyes brimmed with tears against her will.
He threw his arms around her for a hug, leaned back, and kissed her forehead. “Stay safe, Elise.” His voice roughened up. “Call on me if you ever need … anything.” She nodded into his chest, speechless.
She pushed away, reaching for support, and found Trajan’s arm available.
She saw John notice and pause a bit. Shrugging, he crooked an index finger at Charles and Eric to follow him. Eagerly, she sailed toward the bridge as the others headed to the Medlab and exotic drinks.
Chapter 10
Return to Normal?
At her command post, Elise scanned the bridge. She made sure that Charles and his squawking companions had cleared her ship and were on their way before giving the take-hold announcement to general quarters. With five minutes left on the clock, she crossed her fingers, took a deep breath, and got prepared for the return to full ship gravity. “Tango, keep the helm steady and on course. Loose objects will be shifting again.”
“Roger, Captain.”
Her eyes flicked to communications. “Jazz, keep a line open with engineering. Remind them we have sensitive power equipment that we can’t afford to wreck because of loose objects returning to gravity.”
“On it.”
She swung sideways. “Jensen, keep our course well clear of other ships until we’re stabilized. Head outward and away.”
Tango’s voice came on in her comm. “Already on my way, Captain.”
“Tate, I want you online listening to reports from the Med Center and handling any incoming emergencies.”
“Affirmative, Captain, I—”
“Joss, keep your eyes glued to the systems board and monitor for any problems in the ship’s systems.”
“Roger, Captain.”
She slapped her hands on the edge of her board and braced. “Trajan, move to the center and protect the crew from unexpected falling objects.”
With a grunt, Trajan slid to the center and went still, an intent expression on his face while he scanned every nook and cranny of the bridge. Floating hair created a dark halo around his head.
A ripple effect of descending weight invaded the bridge. Her hair fell flat, her body gained weight, her breath wheezed out.
Trajan darted toward the comm board to retrieve a falling headset that had wedged itself overhead earlier. Handing it to Jazz, he slid past Jensen to grab a drink tumbler headed toward Tango’s board. Another grunt as he put the container in a cabinet and the area stabilized.
Tate murmured rapid-fire words into his headset while Jazz talked urgently into hers. She glanced at Tango who caught the look and grinned back. “She’s cruising steady and clear, Captain.”
“Jazz?”
“The Fusion Drive appears intact. Antimatter core maintaining integrity. A few computers are out of alignment, but engineering reports all controls within safety margins. They request that we fire a few retros to test the guidance system.”
“Tango, take care of that.”
“Roger, firing retros.”
She realized that she was gripping the arms of her chair too tight and loosened her fingers, as sore muscles uncramped. Aching all over, her body relaxed into a slump while she wiped a damp forehead clear of wayward strands.
On her right, Trajan stood ramrod stiff, eyes sweeping the area, body poised for any eventuality.
“Any problems to report?” Her gaze swept the room. All eyes focused on her, but no one uttered a word … not even Tate. She clapped her hands. “Well done, everyone.”
Tension blew out of the room as postures eased and the ship finally returned to a semblance of normalcy, at least for the moment.
***
Normal meant Tate and Joss returning to sleep cycle. A not unwelcome event, as quiet and order descended. Four on the bridge was more than enough and, in fact, she contemplated giving Jensen a break and letting him go to the cafeteria. The weight of her body in the captain’s chair anchored her, cradled her, and exhaustion enveloped her.
“Captain!”
The voice reached her at the edge of consciousness. “Captain, how about we bring in some refreshments while we monitor the bridge?”
She opened her eyes and squinted, hearing the sound of Tango’s voice. Shifting in her seat, she sat up a little higher. Now that he’d mentioned it, she was ravenous. “An excellent suggestion.” She stretched. “I could do with a strong cup of coffee and a sandwich.”
Looks exchanged between her crew.
“Or you could take turns going to the commissary to eat a hot meal if you prefer.” Maybe her cre
w just wanted a break from the bridge.
More looks.
“What?”
Jazz spoke first. “About the coffee. There’s little left. Special occasions only.”
“And we’d rather eat here if you’d allow it.” Jensen cast a glance at Tango, panic written into his expression.
Tango swung around and raised his hands, palms up. “We get uncomfortable under the stares of those sitting nearby who don’t get the quantity of food the bridge is due.”
“They understand how critical our job is,” Jensen hastily assured her, “but they can’t help feeling deprived when they see what we get.”
Jazz agreed. “We don’t like to make them feel bad, so we don’t mingle when we eat and often eat here or in our cabins.”
“Wow.” She forced her stampeding hunger to abate. “I need to do something about that.”
Three heads solemnly nodded.
“No coffee?”
All three shook their heads.
“Damn.”
Chapter 11
Hunger Pains
From his bed, thirteen-year-old Jacob cringed as his new baby brother let out a wail. His mother desperately offered the newborn milk from her breast, but her frail body couldn’t provide the nourishment it needed.
His father emerged from their bedroom, hands clapped to his ears and red in the face. “Stop that infernal yowling. I need my sleep so I can do my shitty job. Shoveling manure is hard work, and I need my rest, or that demon overseer will fire me. Then the kid won’t be the only one crying. All of you will be wailing for food.” He loomed over the terrified woman he called his wife.
Jacob shrank deeper into his bedding and held his breath. He willed himself into invisibility, hoping his father wouldn’t notice him.
“My milk is not enough. She needs food.”
“Another mouth to feed.” His father ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t feed myself, much less you and the boy. Now this.”
“Then quit plowing my field.” His mother cast a furtive glance at Jacob.
Plowing her field? Jacob frowned at his mother, confused by her words. Then, he understood and blushed bright red.
A World Too Far (Terran Trilogy Book 1) Page 4
