Death Haunts the Stars

by Jeffrey M. Fortney

  "Hey, Mac...over here! Quick!" Deckard yelled. Then he appeared to be yelling at someone in the darkness. "Stop! Don't move!"

  Bradley spun and raced over to the chief engineer and followed Deckard's flashlight beam into an area between two tanks. "There is someone back there, Mac! I saw 'im jump behind that tank on the left," Deckard whispered to Bradley quietly.

  The security chief nodded and drew his stunner from its holster at his waist. The pistol-shaped weapon was designed to deliver a coherent energy beam capable of stunning a human being temporarily. Bradley adjusted the weapon to its lowest setting and moved stealthily over to an opening between two banks of pipes on the left. Before stepping into the narrow space between the pipes, he signaled Deckard to move towards the spot where he saw the person.

  Deckard kept the beam of his flashlight aimed into the space between the two tanks then turned sidewise to squirm between the tanks. It was a tight fit for the chief engineer but he worked his way back towards the source of the motion he'd witnessed. "Alright...hold still back there! Don't give us any trouble now!" Deckard said with a sharp edge to his voice

  The sounds of someone scrambling away could be heard as the person, or persons, bumped into tanks and pumps in the process! Whoever it was, they were moving towards Bradley.

  Over to the left, Bradley suddenly shouted, "Freeze right there!"

  Of course, the culprit didn't freeze but tried to evade capture instead. Bradley fired his stunner but missed, striking a pipe instead. Cursing under his breath, Bradley squeezed deeper into the narrow spaces between piping and tanks. As he rounded one tank, someone lunged at him from the shadows.

  Bradley had just a moment to bring his right arm up to deflect an object being swung at his head. He was successful, his right arm smacked into his attacker's arms jarring a length of pipe from the attacker's hands. The pipe flew over Bradley's head and landed behind him before crashing into a discharge valve. The valve opened, spewing raw sewage onto the floor..

  Bradley had a tough time staying on his feet as he slipped and slid on the sewage spreading on the floor. He finally got a solid grip on the front of his attacker's shirt just before he lost his footing. Bradley and his captive fell to the floor...into a growing pool of excrement!

  Deckard took that moment to appear from between two tanks. Skirting the puddle and spray, he stepped over to the valve and twisted it shut. "Well, Commander Bradley, that is certainly some mess you've gotten yourself into!"

  "Ha...ha...ha! You're a real comodian, Deckard!" Bradley replied.

  "Covered in crap and you can still pun," responded Deckard. "I'm impressed."

  "Well, be impressed enough to keep my captive covered with your stunner while I get myself and...'Grungy' here back on his feet," said Bradley. Deckard had drawn his weapon and had it aimed at the feces-covered captive while maintaining his distance from the two filth-covered people.

  Bradley put his stunner back on his belt then used some pipes to assist himself in getting back on his feet. With one hand on a pipe, he used the other to grab the culprit by the collar and lift him to his feet. Him? thought Bradley upon a closer look. "Pat, I think our captive here...is a girl!?!"

  Deckard's eyes widened. Through the muck covering the person and the clothes, he could indeed make out a feminine form. "Mac, hold onto her then while I call this in. I'll get a security squad down here to take her into custody and an engineering team to clean up this mess." The senior engineer stepped over to a wall-mounted comm unit near a hatch. As he did so, something caught his eye on the side of one of the largest tanks. He approached the tank cautiously and brought his flashlight beam up to closely examine the object attached to the tank.

  "Uh, Mac," Deckard started, "we've got ourselves an even bigger problem. Bring 'Grungy' over here and ask her if she put this here." Deckard stepped back to let Bradley and the young woman get close. The girl shied away.

  "Talk to me, 'Grungy', and tell me what you did here?" ordered Commander Bradley in a menacing voice.

  Terrified, the young woman answered, "It's a 'screecher', a loud noise maker. Bobby showed me how to get in here and told me which tank to put this on. He said it would be funny if the racket it made attracted maintenance crews down here to fix a non-existent problem!"

  "Well, we'll deal with Bobby later. Pat, get my team and yours down here ASAP! Wait outside and down the corridor for them," Barkley snapped. He fished a set of zip-tie handcuffs from his coveralls and cuffed the young woman's hands behind her back. Then he pushed her over into a corner where he could keep an eye on her while he examined the device. "Is there another device in here?" he asked her. Realizing that it was in her best interest to answer Bradley, she numbly shook her head.

  A closer inspection showed the object to be more than just some type of fancy noise maker. It was far too sophisticated and had all the marking of an explosive device; right down to the radio receiver mechanism wired into it! Bradley carefully unplugged the wires connecting the radio receiver to the device then tossed the radio control across the room. Near the hatch, Deckard finished his call and left the compartment.

  Bradley opened the device's lid very carefully. Finding no booby traps, he removed the lid and placed it on the floor before taking took a closer look at the interior of the device. Inside were two glassite tubes nestled in preformed packing foam. Each tube was filled with a liquid, one red and one green. In recesses in the foam along the walls of the box were two small, doughy blocks that appeared to be a low-level plastic explosive. Just enough to crack these tubes open and allow the two liquids to mix! Then BOOM! Bradley thought. He quickly disconnected the wires leading into the doughy masses then pulled the plastic explosives out of the box and set them on the floor.

  He carefully removed the tube of red liquid then placed it on the flat part of a large valve assembly. Then Bradley lifted the tube of green liquid from the box, carried about ten feet away from the other tube, and placed it gently on the floor. Only then did he realize that he'd been breathing very shallowly! Bradley paused to take a deep breath and let it out with a sigh of relief!

  Looking at the young woman who was still standing in the corner, doe-eyed with fear; Bradley crooked a finger at her and said, "Come here! Let's you and I have a little talk about your friend, Bobby, while we wait for my friends to arrive."

  Moments later, the hatch opened and Commander Pat Deckard stepped through, followed by three security specialists and four engineering technicians. Bradley gave his friends a thumbs-up then pointed to the locations where he had placed the bomb components. The security personnel picked up each component carefully and placed each in a separate, foam-padded case. These cases were carried into the corridor to be placed into one of Security's personnel transports. These battery-powered vehicles were similar to four-wheel all-terrain vehicles popular back on Earth and were used to move personnel, cargo, and equipment about the ship quickly.

  Deckard's personnel set about cleaning up the spill and checking for any damage to the waste recycler system. The chief engineer pulled a pry tool from his belt and used it to remove the box from the tank. Once that was accomplished, he handed it to one of the security specialists.

  Bradley took the opportunity to brief the senior security officer on events in the compartment then remanded the young woman, whose name was Katie Bennings, to another of his personnel. "I want you to locate Bobby Stilson, place him under arrest, and take him to the brig. I'll contact his parents myself...after I take a shower, put on a fresh uniform, and...brief the XO. Damn! We'll need to brief the Skipper, too! This is just too important." Bradley sighed. He hated to interrupt his friends' honeymoon but someone attempting to sabotage the ship was a serious matter that the captain needed to be made aware of.

  Upon entering the corridor, Bradley noticed that the back seats and floor of one of the personnel transports had been covered with large sheets of plastic. Obviously, his personnel didn't want their vehicle covered in human excrement. He looked at his per
sonnel as he mounted the vehicle and noticed them trying to hide good natured grins of amusement. "Go ahead...laugh it up," he told them. "I'm sure I'll find it funny, too...some day!"

  Upon arriving at the brig, Bradley entered the locker room and stripped off his filthy clothes. Instead of putting them into a bin to be laundered, he tossed them into another bin to be recycled. I don't ever want to wear those again! he thought.

  Bradley stepped into one of the shower stalls and turned the water on so that it streamed out hot and fast. It took him three attempts to wash all of the excrement, and smell, from his body. Then, wrapped in a towel, he opened his locker and drew out clean underwear, a fresh coverall, socks, and a pair of boots. He sprayed himself with copious amounts of deodorant before donning his clothes. Once clothed, he combed his hair and splashed a liberal amount of aftershave on his face...just in case.

  As he walked towards his office, he spotted two of his personnel bringing in a tall, slender young man, still in his teens. "Is this Stilson?" he asked them.

  Sergeant Liselle Germaine nodded. "Yes, Commander, Robert Stilson, age 17. Deck 7, Quarters 716. Parents: Ken and Rebecca Stilson, colonists."

  "Did you come in contact with his parents?"

  "No, sir. We found him two decks above Waste Recycling Unit 4. He had this in his possession." Germaine handed her commander a small radio signaling device...the detonator apparently.

  "Did you read him his rights?"

  "Yes, sir!" Germaine replied.

  "Good! Lock him up. I'll call his folks in a bit." Bradley dismissed his troops and the boy with a nod and continued to his office.

  Taking a seat at his desk, he commed the bridge, "Bradley to Commander O'Reilly!"

  "O'Reilly here! Go ahead, Commander."

  "Ma'am, I need to report an attempt to sabotage one of our WRC units. We've disabled the device and have two culprits in custody," he reported. "Other than that...our inspection of the restricted areas hasn't turned up any other problems."

  O'Reilly paused before responding. "Thanks, Mac! Tell you what, zap me a quick report and I'll call the Captain myself. No sense both of us calling him...unless, of course, if he decides to seek extra info."

  "Thank you, Commander! I'll get this out to you ASAP. Let me know how James wants us to handle things. While you brief the Captain, I'm calling the parents of our two troublemakers."

  "Sounds good, Mac! I'll keep you posted. O'Reilly out."

  Bradley leaned back in his chair for a moment and ran a hand over his face. Then, sighing, he leaned forward, activated the voice writer function of his computer, and began dictating a concise report of the incident for O'Reilly. Once that task was finished, he sent it to her electronically then he went to the small breakroom in the Security Offices to grab a cup of coffee and a sandwich. After a quick break, he had the computer pull up the names and contact info for the parents of the Stilson boy and his girlfriend.

  He contacted the parents over the ship's comm system and asked them to meet him in his office as soon as they could. Glancing at the clock on his computer screen, Bradley realized it was after 1800 hours. "It's gonna be a long night!" he said out loud to himself and leaned back in his chair to wait for the parents to arrive.

  Chapter 5

  Ship's Log

  Terran Colonial Vessel Conestoga

  Earthdate: 21 October 2219

  Captain James B. Rivers, Commanding

  Day: 029

  Doctor Charlotte Rivers and I are officially back on duty. Okay, we've been back on duty unofficially since the death of Jean-Pierre Delacroix and the attempted sabotage of the WRC unit. But I've hung back and let Commanders Meaghan O'Reilly and Mac Bradley conduct the investigations into the two events.

  Being the suspicious-type, Mac thinks there may be foul play involved in Delacroix's death. He's working closely with Dr. Cahill and her autopsy team to determine if the man was poisoned in some manner. They have reported no results yet.

  Given the level of danger to the ship, passengers, and crew, Bobby Stilson and his girlfriend, Katie Bennings, will remain in the brig for the foreseeable future. I've spoken to their parents extensively and imparted to them the danger their children have placed everyone in. In the brig, they can receive counseling from the ship's mental health professionals. The other option is to place them in stasis...which is an option I'm more than willing to use to protect my ship and everyone aboard her, if it comes to that.

  I want to learn where those kids were able to come up with the materials...and inclination...to create such a device! According to Bradley's initial report, the bomb was quite sophisticated; more than a couple of kids could put together. Something more is going on but right now we have more questions than answers! Between new crewmembers, the colonists, and way too many hormonal teenagers on the ship, we've had far too many incidents so far. And we still have a long voyage still ahead of us.

  The Conestoga's security chief stepped into the Captain's Ready Room and reported to the captain formally. Rivers was not in a good mood and Bradley hoped to ease some tension by sticking to protocol...this time at least. Rivers waved him to a seat and finished reading a report before looking up.

  "Sorry about the wait, Mac," Rivers began, "Take a few days 'off' and the reports pile up. Meaghan did a great job, mind you; but there are still things a captain has to sign off on. You'll have to deal with that when you get your own ship one day." Rivers chuckled at the snarl on Bradley's face. Bradley wasn't quite sure he was cut out to be the captain of a deep space vessel, but Rivers, and others at Fleet, recognized the security officer's budding command potential. "So what have you got for me?"

  Bradley put on his 'serious face' before replying. "Captain, my people have finished analyzing the binary explosives in the bomb. Our best calculation is that if it had gone off, it would have destroyed the compartment...and the ones above and below. It would also have breached the hull and damaged a major longitudinal beam that runs through that part of the ship. We were very, very lucky, sir!"

  Rivers' jaw tightened with anger. Someone IS attacking my ship...and using children to do it! Well, time to get tough! he thought to himself. "What else?"

  "The Stilson boy and Bennings girl are talking with the shrinks and starting to cooperate with Security. I sent you a quick report a little bit ago," Bradley answered. "Apparently there are 33 kids between the ages of 6 and 13 aboard; and 45 between the ages of 14 and 18. These are smart kids and they're zipping through their computer based learning programs very quickly. That leaves them with a lot of time on their hands and..."

  "...and 'idle hands are the devil's workshop'. Right?" asked Rivers.

  Bradley nodded, "Precisely."

  Rivers thought for a moment then asked, "So do we need to add some entertainments or activities to fill their free time?"

  "Well, I think an entertainment may have been part of our problems," Bradley responded. At Rivers' quizzical look, he continued, "Apparently, during one of their regular movie nights in the Colonial Transfer Facility back on Earth, someone chose 'West Side Story' as a classic film to show the kids. Since then, the older kids have formed two 'gangs', the Sharks and the Jets like in the movie. Instead of rumbles or brawls though, they challenge each other to 'dares'."

  Rivers leaned forward. "Let me guess...an escalating set of challenges to do something daring or risky, like breaking into areas that are normally off limits; to see who can, and can't, get away with it?"

  Bradley nodded.

  "So how does a bomb play into this?" Rivers asked.

  Bradley leaned forward then said, "The challenges are sent to the kids through their email accounts on the ship's internal communications server using anonymous account names. Bobby and Katie were challenged to put what they thought was a 'noise maker' in the WRC compartment and set it off to cause maintenance crews to come check it out. The hatch numbers, locations and pass codes that they'd need to get where they were going were included in the email...as well as the location of
the device to be used. They actually thought it was just a screecher that would make a lot of noise, attract attention, and get us running over each other to find and take care of."

  Rivers leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "So, someone is working behind the scenes using the kids to do their dirty work. Well then, how do we keep our young people occupied and out of trouble? And showing teen-angst movies is definitely OUT!"

  Bradley chuckled then answered, "How about we try some activities that will benefit us...and them? Why not institute a program of...I don't know...apprenticeships? Give them jobs where they can work alongside our crew a couple of hours each day, learn some skills, and develop some work experience. You know, help in the 'Farm' or the arboretum? Or help the maintenance crews with regular inspection and maintenance activities around the ship?"

  Rivers leaned forward again, a broad smile upon his face. "Hey! That may work. That could really work...and it might teach them about the dangers we face out here in space and they may even develop a little personal responsibility along the way. I like it! Tell you what...I was going to walk the ship this afternoon. How about we do this instead...we'll round up the teens and have them meet us in the arboretum at 1500 hours. We'll get Gene Barkley, Pat Deckard, Charlotte, Mike Shelton, Rafe Ramos, and Pete Slade to join us. We'll tell them about the program, each of us talk about a department they could work in, and let them figure which area they'd be interested in trying! Let's assemble our folks in the arboretum at 1400 hours. Okay?"

  "I like it!" responded Bradley. "I'm sure there may be a couple of the youngsters who would be interested in Security and it would be helpful to have them on the team helping us, instead of messing with us."