Full Share

by Nathan Lowell

  “Small galaxy, huh?”

  “Would he have interfered?”

  Lee shrugged. “Dunno, but if he did get involved, it wouldn’t be pretty.”

  “Merrick might not be his father,” I pointed out.

  “True,” he agreed and sipped his beer, “but I’m still glad we don’t have to find out.”

  “Amen!” I toasted. We clinked, drained, and put the glasses down.

  He nodded and we stood up and headed back to the ship.

  As we approached the lock he turned to me, “Thanks, Ish. I hate to drink alone.”

  “You’re welcome, Lee. Any time I can help out with these little procurement issues of yours, please let me know. Next time, I’ll buy.”

  He keyed the lock and said, almost admiringly, “You called her sar.”

  “It seemed only polite under the circumstances.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Niol Orbital

  2352-August-16

  Third section had the day watch our second day in Niol. I used the time to finish the data extractions for the log entries on systems that had shut down cleanly. I had the new data plugged into the time-delay model by the end of the watch.

  It was odd working on the bridge with the ship docked. I had gotten used to the dimness of the lighting while underway. When in port, the light reflecting off the orbital’s bathed the area in a glaring illumination. It was rather thrilling to see the ships docked on either side of us. The dock to port had been empty when we had arrived but the Josiah Wedgwood occupied the next berth beyond. The John C. Calhoun rested to starboard and I smiled, remembering of our last night back in Dunsany Roads.

  I wasn’t alone on the bridge. Salina Matteo was on third section and her station was there as well. She was a short woman who wore her hair longer than any spacer I had met. Not that it was long, by any means, but when almost everybody else wore their hair in one close-trimmed configuration or another, her page-boy cut seemed very long by comparison. She had one of those smiles that peaked out and disappeared again, never lasting for long, but was thoroughly enchanting when displayed. She was also one of the older spacers in the crew. I thought she was nearly as old as Francis—probably in her middle forties—which put her, I realized with a shock, at the same age as my mother.

  Salina had relieved second section by the time I got up there, since I stopped at the office to check in with Mr. von Ickles. She already had her ship status updates running for the next few legs of the trip and smiled a greeting. It was pleasant having the place to ourselves, each engaged in our own routines.

  By noon I finally had all log transactions that recorded systems shutdown events extracted and loaded into my delayed time display. I flashed a copy of it down to Mr. von Ickles in the office before Salina and I went down to get some lunch.

  Stepping onto the mess deck was more like the in-port mealtimes I had remembered than those we experienced the last few days at Betrus. Sarah had the duty in the galley and she was decorating an elaborate cake that I assumed would be dessert for dinner, since the lunch buffet already had one of Cookie’s granapple cobblers on it. The crew had money and most were out spending it, leaving the mess deck practically deserted. It was comforting in a way, but also a bit troubling. An extra couple of days in-port made a big difference to so many of them. It seemed odd to me. Even ignoring the creds that Pip and I made trading I was never in danger of running out during our port stays. Most people must burn through a lot of creds.

  I felt a little awkward eating with Salina since I really didn’t know her very well. We had spent the morning together working in silence on the bridge, though, and we were the only ones on the mess deck, so it would have been rude to sit someplace else. She was easy to be with, even if we didn’t talk much. Every once in a while she had one those little, flashing smiles.

  “How are you coming on figuring out what went wrong?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “We looked at the failed components for a couple of weeks. I finished adding the systems that shut down without failing just before we came down here. I’m not sure what that will tell us, but it’s worth looking into.”

  “You’ll find the answer—between you and Mr. von Ickles,” she said with one of her little smiles.

  “Don’t forget Mr. Kelley, Mr. Maxwell, and the captain. They’re all trying too.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t discounting them, but they’ll only be able to see what you and Mr. von Ickles show them. Then they’ll need to interpret it.”

  “I wish I could think of what else we might need to know.” I sighed.

  Just then Mr. von Ickles popped into the mess deck, grabbed some food, and settled with us. “You guys mind if an officer sits with you?”

  Salina considered him for a long moment. “It’ll be okay, I think, sar,” she said with a grin.

  “Thank you, Ms Matteo,” he replied with a little bow. “You are both generous and understanding.”

  “We were just talking about the latest iteration of the failure display,” I told him. “Did you get a chance to see it?”

  “Yup, and it’s interesting. We were green, all green within a half second of the event,” he said.

  “What?” Salina asked. “How can that be?”

  “The ship did exactly what it was supposed to do and protected itself when we hit the charged particle field. It was a huge charge, but the ship shut down everything the way it was supposed to.”

  “Well, then how did those components fail if they were shut down?” she asked.

  “Excellent question,” he said. “Ish?”

  I could see where he was going with this. “I’ll get right on it after lunch,” I told him. “Silly not to have thought of it before. I could have grabbed all that data at once.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “If you build this last bit into its own overlay, we’ll have complete and separate graphics for proper shut down, the restarting, and the failures. If that doesn’t show us something, then we’re missing a lot more than I think. When we solve it, we should write it up and publish an article. This has been such a struggle.”

  “Wouldn’t Mr. Kelley do that?” Salina asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure he’ll write up an engineering article, but I’m talking about the data visualization aspects,” he said. “Maybe submit to the Journal of Visual Data.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Classic problem, innovative solutions. Timed displays have been around for as long as there have been moving pictures, but this is an interesting application of time-delay visualization of a complex system interaction. Somebody else might benefit from it.”

  “You sound like my mother,” I said.

  Salina chuckled. “I think your mother probably had a higher voice than that.”

  We all laughed at that, but I knew what I would be doing for the next couple of watches. “What did you do before you had me to slice and dice data for you, sar?”

  “We didn’t. Which is why, Mr. Wang, we made the case to home office to create this slot. We live and die by data analysis and if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather skip the dying part.”

  We all raised our coffee mugs and toasted that.

  “This afternoon, though, we have another little task. I got permission from the captain to test the uh-oh box at 15:00.”

  “Excellent, sar!”

  He turned to Salina and said, “So, Ms. Matteo? Wanna help crash ShipNet?”

  “How are we going to do that without destroying the ship?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Very carefully, Ms. Matteo. Very carefully, indeed.”

  We finished lunch and all headed up to the bridge.

  Mr. von Ickles brought up the main systems display on his console and we looked it over carefully.

  He pointed out the key factors. “Main reactor/generators are off line while we’re on shore power. All the heavy field generators are secured and the docking clamps are on interlock so even if we lose power,
they’ll hold us.” He smiled at me. “Go get the uh-oh box, and lets boot it in parallel and see if it still works.”

  I fetched it from the locker while he and Salina brought up a couple more ship’s displays. It booted right up and brought the ShipNet code online. Theoretically we could have shut off the primary routers in Systems Main and keep a minimum control of the ship with the laptop serving as a central core. It wouldn’t be pretty, but it might make the difference between living and dying.

  The three of us went through a checklist that Mr. von Ickles had prepared. Salina had a couple of ideas and I suggested some things too. When 15:00 rolled around we were as ready as we could be.

  I went down to the systems closet to wait out the last tick while Salina and Mr. von Ickles readied themselves on the bridge. The first test was to see if the computer would take the load if it was already booted when the main router cage went off line. Salina did the honors on the announcement and at the appointed signal, I pulled the power coupling from the back of the main router cage. My tablet lost its link for a moment, then locked back in. I got the “power up” message from Mr. von Ickles and plugged the cage back in. If I hadn’t linked back up, I would have powered up after a tick.

  The next test was to check to see if the box would assume the load if the net was down when it booted. It took a couple of ticks to prepare, but I finally got the “standby” message from Mr. von Ickles and pulled the plug on his mark. The delay was almost non-existent as my tablet lost its link and re-acquired. That did not look right. It should have taken longer. Mr. von Ickles sent the “power up” message and I restarted the cage again.

  The last test was a test of the catastrophic failure of the Systems Main. I got the “standby” message, but this time, on his mark, I pulled the main breaker to the whole closet. My tablet lost its link for quite a while, but within three ticks it was back. There was not much there, but it was connected to the network and there was basic communication. Mr. von Ickles sent the “reboot and secure” message over the tablet.

  When I got the Systems Main closet restarted, I went up to the bridge to find Mr. Kelley, Mr. von Ickles, and Salina all smiling. “Well, that wasn’t what I expected,” Mr. von Ickles was saying, “but it worked when we needed it, so I guess I’m not going to complain.”

  Mr. Kelley agreed, “Yeah. I thought the system redundancies would pick up with that single cage failure. The net shouldn’t crash if we lose just one. But when the whole closet went down, the box gave us enough to keep basic power and steerage way.”

  “It’s definitely a last resort option,” Mr. von Ickles said. “But if we need it, I’m glad to know it’s here.”

  We secured from testing and told the rest of the ship over the speakers.

  “Since you’re here anyway, Fred,” Mr. von Ickles said, “take a look at this.”

  He brought up the revised data display showing all the systems shutting down, then the pause, and the cascade of failures.

  “What the—” Mr. Kelley said.

  Mr. von Ickles nodded. “Thanks. I thought I might be crazy, but that’s definitely not what you expected to see, is it?”

  “Can you play that again and pause it one second past the event?” he asked.

  Mr. von Ickles did so and Mr. Kelley leaned into the monitor as if being close to it would make him see it better.

  “This says the ship was green one second after the event. By this time the EMP is well beyond us.”

  Mr. von Ickles nodded his agreement. “Not only that! Look how long it takes for things to start failing.”

  He keyed it to start again and we watched nearly six seconds elapse before the first failure—an atmospheric pressure sensor on the aft boat deck. After that the cascade of failing sensors, fuses, and boards all the way to the bow and back took another half tick while sporadic flashes in peripheral areas indicated an almost random pattern of systems and subsystems failures throughout the ship.

  Mr. Kelley just stood there looking at it for a long time. “I had always assumed that the system didn’t respond properly,” he said at last.

  “Yup, me, too,” Mr. von Ickles confirmed. “I’ve got Mr. Wang stripping down the logs one more time to look for the systems as they come back online. There’s something we’re still not seeing.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Niol Orbital

  2352-August-16

  After the day watch, I was ready for some off-ship entertainment and I found Pip waiting for me in deck berthing. “Are we going someplace?” I asked.

  “I hope so. I want a meal that I don’t have to clean up after for a change.”

  I remembered that feeling very well and we hustled into our civvies. By 18:30 we were at the lift and I punched level eight.

  “You don’t want to go down to the oh-two deck?” he asked.

  “I’m with you on the meal. It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten off ship and I’m ready for something a little different. Nothing against the oh-two level, but I want something a little more—upscale, shall we say.”

  He grinned. “Well, ain’t we gettin’ all hoity-toity! You sure you wanna be seen with such a ruffian and low-class individual as myself?”

  “You can hold my coat while I eat,” I told him.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Right.”

  The lift opened on eight and we headed out to starboard.

  “You have any insight as to what might be up here?” he asked. “Why did you picked eight instead of nine?”

  “In my weakened and starved condition, that was as high as I could raise my arm.”

  “As long as you had a good reason.”

  We found a friendly looking place with a menu heavy on chicken and fish. It was rather late station time, going on midnight, and there was still a small line of people. We didn’t have to wait too long and we got a nice table overlooking the corridor where we could sit, enjoy a meal, and watch people.

  We settled in, got our orders placed relatively quickly, and had that kind of well-we-are-here-so-what-will-we-talk-about pause before Pip said, “What the hell have you been up to, Ishmael? I don’t think I’ve seen you for more than a stan total in the eight weeks since we left Betrus.”

  I laughed. “I missed you, too,” I said, and proceeded to give him the run down on the uh-oh box and my work trying to unravel the mystery of the systems crash. He already knew about Lois and CC.

  “What happened after I left you in Betrus? In that bar?”

  “Oh, a very cute girl picked me up and took me home with her for the night.”

  “A cute girl picked you up?” He said, and laughed. “And I’ve been feeling guilty about leaving you there for the last two months?”

  “Thanks, Pip, but never feel guilty about something like that. Especially after I told you to leave. Kate and Janette weren’t really into having two guys. Whatever mystical hold you have over them, they weren’t interested in me. You were just wasting time.”

  “You’re a strange man, you know that?”

  “So, I’ve been told.”

  The waiter brought our food then and we tucked in. I had ordered a nice grilled munta and Pip had a chicken dish. We enjoyed our food without talking for a while.

  “We need to restock,” Pip said at last. “We’ve got tomorrow and the next day to find some trade goods. How much mass do we have now? We’re both full share, but you’re spec two, so that’s fifty for me and eighty for you?”

  “Yeah, bump up to fifty for full share, then ten for spec three and twenty for spec two. I’m still only using about ten with my clothes and stuff so I’ve got seventy available.”

  “Holy handmaidens, that’s one hundred and ten kilos. What can we get?”

  “I don’t know, Pip. Are we going to Umber or Barsi?” I asked. “And what should we buy differently for either.”

  “We’re scheduled for Umber. Ocean planet with only a couple of small islands for land mass. Pirano Fisheries owns the planet, same group that has the fisheries
in St. Cloud actually. All the people live on floating cities. They’re apparently huge.”

  “So anything wooden has to be imported?”

  “Yeah, wood, stone, and most textiles. They export fish including a lot of shellfish. Also various seaweeds and seaweed products.”

  “Well, I’m off tomorrow. I can try to scope out the flea. Maybe convince Beverly or Brill to talk to me again.”

  “Oh, man, Beverly,” Pip said. “I thought she was going to lose it when it looked like you were gonna get stuck on Betrus.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “It’s true! She was a mess for that whole stay.”

  “I saw her dragging back late one night. She didn’t look too good.”

  “You have that effect on women, Ish. Once they’ve had a taste of the Ishmael charm, they’re ruined for mere mortals.”

  We chuckled, but I filed that bit of information away. “She’s on mid-watch tonight, but maybe I can convince her to go shopping with me after lunch.”

  Pip held up his drink and I touched my glass to his as we chanted, “Better deals in the afternoon.”

  The conversation lagged a bit as we tucked back into the food.

  “How’re you doing on the stores trading?” I asked. “Is it still pulling your chain?”

  He looked up at me and finished chewing a mouthful of chicken before answering. “It’s gotten pretty much automated. I’m not really doing much anymore. A little tweak here, a little tweak there, but Cookie has it down pretty good now. I just make the data changes.”

  “How about the empty container?”

  “That’s going really well. I’ve got a base budget of fifty kilocreds to fill it each time. We’ve pulled anything from one hundred fifty to two hundred fifty back out.”

  “Nice ratios,” I said, and sighed.

  “What’s the matter, Ish?”

  “What the hell am I going to do?” I asked him. “And for that matter, what are you going to do? Isn’t your two year contract just about up?”

  “Oh, well, I extended for another year. It’ll expire in August 2353,” he admitted.