Arkship Countdown

by Niel Bushnell

  ‘All right,’ he said, holding out his hand.

  DELAYED

  T-Minus 14 hours

  Bran Colmen entered the briefing room, a nervous sweat dotting his forehead. He had barely slept, and his body ached all over from yesterday’s foolhardy rescue. He had done as Valine had asked; he had stayed in his home until his shift was due to begin. He had gone about his usual routine, doing nothing out of the ordinary. But an hour ago he had been summoned to this meeting, and his normal morning routine had been thrown out of the window. As he found a seat at the large table he wondered if Valine was aware of his deviation from the agreed plan. Thinking of the possible consequences made his hands tremble.

  ‘You should take some time off,’ said Vinchris, chief of hanger deck two, as she sat next to him. ‘You look like shit.’

  ‘Don’t I always?’ Colmen joked, doing his best to look relaxed while inside he was frantic. He watched as the other department heads took their seats. Finally, the Lord Chamberlain Cam Tanis entered.

  ‘Prince Thyred,’ he said loudly.

  They all stood, waiting as the prince circled the room and took up his place at the top of the table. ‘Be seated,’ he said.

  The Lord Chamberlain sat next to him. ‘I know you all have busy departments and decks to get back to, so this will be brief. I’m sure you’re all aware of yesterday’s accident?’

  A murmur of acknowledgement came from the table, then the Master at Arms, Sartang, said, ‘Are we certain it was an accident?’

  Tanis nodded. ‘There is no evidence of sabotage. Chief Vinchris?’

  Vinchris nodded. ‘Engine giro failure. We tested it only last week, everything was green. A fluke malfunction, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Unfortunate timing, obviously,’ Tanis noted. ‘If the giro had failed a few hours earlier it would have been a very different story, not only for the prince, but for all of us.’

  ‘We are all grateful that you are safe, my prince.’ Sartang said with a polite nod, her hard face approximating a smile.

  Prince Thyred cleared his throat, as was his habit before he began to speak. His voice was low, as if he deliberately wanted everyone to lean in to hear what he had to say. ‘We have been very fortunate. I owe our engine deck chief a great debt of gratitude. If not for his actions it might be my son sitting here today.’

  Colmen blushed, feeling the eyes of the room settle on him. The others began to bang their fists on the table until Colmen raised his hand and said, ‘Thank you, my prince. I was just doing my duty.’

  ‘You are a credit to my fleet, Bran,’ Prince Thyred said with a mellow smile, ‘and I am grateful.’ He paused, turning his eyes to the others around the table. ‘Our destination yesterday was not the arkship Tephrite, as many of you believed. We rendezvoused with the Ormr.’

  ‘The Ormr? A Draig vessel?’ Sartang asked.

  Prince Thyred nodded solemnly. ‘The leader of the House of Draig – the Heir Valtais – is Orcades Draig. We have been in communication for some time, since the death of his mother. Orcades has an interest in the House of Kenric and has been making overtures of late. He wishes to combine our resources, to form an alliance between our two houses. I believe it is a deception. Orcades cannot be trusted. He intends to plant a Draig flag on our arkships.’

  Prince Thyred waited, letting the hushed voices of disquiet have their say, then he added, ‘We met to discuss terms, but the talks were a waste of time. I have called you here to ask you to be prepared for an attack on the Obsidian.’

  The people around the table blustered defiant statements, swearing their allegiance to the prince.

  ‘The House of Draig would never dare to attack us,’ Vinchris said. ‘They have only four arkships. We have nothing to fear.’

  The prince banged his hand on the table. ‘You are wrong, Vinchris. He has the devil in his eyes. Numbers do not matter to Orcades Draig. He will attack. And if the Ark Royal Obsidian falls, then the rest of our fleet will follow. We must be ready for the worst. You must be watchful, you must be prepared. But keep this secret. I do not want fear and panic to spread through my arkship. We are Kenric, and we endure.’

  ‘We are Kenric, and we endure,’ they all repeated.

  Satisfied, Prince Thyred nodded, standing slowly. The others stood as well, watching him as he left the briefing room.

  As they turned back to the table the Lord Chamberlain spoke. ‘From now on we will meet here each morning to formulate our plans. I want readiness reports from each deck and department for tomorrow. If your staff ask questions, tell them we are discussing potential system upgrades. Thank you, that is all.’

  The meeting broke apart, and Colmen rushed for the door. He was late for his shift, and panic was setting in. As he hurried out of the room he was aware of a face staring down at him from the concourse overhead. It was Valine.

  COMMUTE

  T-Minus 13 hours

  As he waited for the pod to arrive Bran Colmen tried to picture his wife, replaying memories of her as if she was already lost to him. He remembered the first time they met, the day of their marriage, moving into their first apartment together, making love on the bare floor with boxes all around them, that big argument when he thought she might leave him. It was all there, vague and sharp, crystal clear and half-forgotten, all at the same time. They’d both mellowed in their decades together but he still saw that playful spark of mischief in her eyes.

  When had he last told her he loved her? They didn’t go in for grand displays of emotion, especially since Tealor came along, and now he regretted it. What if he never got the chance to tell her how much she meant to him? He bullied himself with his thoughts until his emotions threatened to show.

  The pod slowed into the station and Colmen joined the other passengers. He saw Bara, and she pushed her way through to speak to him.

  ‘Better today?’ she asked as the pod accelerated.

  ‘Yeah,’ he managed, only half-listening.

  She leaned in closer, whispering, ‘What’s the big secret?’

  Colmen’s eyes widened. ‘How did . . .’ He glanced about, looking for Valine. Maybe Bara was working with her. ‘How do you know?’ he hissed.

  Startled, Bara took a step away. ‘I saw you all coming out of the briefing room, that’s all. Sorry.’

  Realization washed over him, and Colmen forced the tension out of his shoulders. Smiling he said, ‘Possible upgrades, that’s all. I need to submit a report tomorrow.’

  ‘Finally!’ Bara replied. ‘How long have we been asking to fix those helix junctions?’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ Colmen laughed, trying to sound conspiratorial.

  The pod came to a stop and they walked out together. As the crowd thinned, Colmen turned to her and said, ‘You’re not Kenric, are you?’

  Bara tensed. ‘No, but I work as hard as anyone else, harder, in fact, I–’

  ‘No, no,’ Colmen soothed. ‘That’s not what I mean. You travel, don’t you? You have your ship . . .’

  ‘Lexica.’

  ‘Yes, Lexica. You’ve been to other arkships, right?’

  ‘Some. Why?’

  ‘I’ve never left. I was born here, on the Obsidian. After Permond’s death, I was thinking, maybe I’ve missed out. Maybe I should have travelled, like you, visited other arkships, other Houses. Do you know much about the House of Draig?’

  Bara shook her head. ‘Never had any dealings with them. Why?’

  Colmen avoided her question. ‘What about the Rhydars?’

  ‘The Rhydars?’ Bara repeated. ‘Bunch of gravel-heads. Aren’t they all dead?’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘Why’d you ask?’

  ‘No reason,’ Colmen laughed. ‘Just wondered, that’s all.’ He wanted to ask her more, to seek her advice about Valine. But he didn’t know how. He didn’t know who he could trust, and he couldn’t risk the lives of his family. Now, he regretted starting the conversation. He felt the rectan
gle of the data stick in his pocket, and the knot of tension in his stomach grew. As they walked along the engine deck he could sense Bara’s inquisitive glances.

  ‘Tell me about your ship,’ he said.

  ‘Oh,’ she replied, hesitating. ‘Well, he’s a mark three Thornton corf, Wanderer class merchant vessel. Quad Mertle engine stack, a lot faster than he needs to be for a cargo ship. You should come see him.’

  ‘I will,’ Colmen promised. ‘See you soon,’ he said abruptly as he marched towards the control room, glad to be free of the conversation. He climbed the steps and walked through the doors, not stopping to admire the view today.

  The control room team saw his arrival and cheered, clapping as he walked to his desk.

  ‘Here’s the hero,’ Flint called.

  ‘We’ve got work to do,’ Colmen barked, killing their grins, regretting it immediately.

  Do nothing out of the ordinary, he reminded himself. He always had a coffee. He always stood on the gantry. He always smiled at his staff. Today, he couldn’t bring himself to pretend. The image of his wife and son seemed to be pressing him into the floor.

  He reached into his pocket, found the data stick and slotted it into his work station.

  DEAD END

  T-Minus 5 hours

  Colmen waited by the fountain, trying to appear calm. The data stick was in his hand, the information Valine wanted copied into its memory. All that remained was to deliver it into her hand and his family would be safe. But she was late.

  About him shoppers strolled; families with children, young lovers laughing and joking, workers like him in their dirty uniforms, looking for something to eat. They drifted by, paying him little attention. His eyes darted across the promenade, checking each new arrival, desperate to find her.

  She was late. What had gone wrong? He tried to keep his leg from shaking as his mind raced. He had no way of contacting her, no way of knowing where she might be. And if he couldn’t give her the data stick how could he get his family back? He ran his fingers through his greying hair, feeling his heart flutter painfully.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he muttered to himself, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

  The concourse became quieter, some of the stores closed, and the light began to dim as the ship moved into night-time hours. High above his head was a line of windows. In the reduced light, he could make out the turn of stars as The Infinite began to rise. He watched it for a while, seeing its odd tendrils of fire erupting into space.

  She wasn’t coming. She wasn’t coming. He’d waited three hours and she wasn’t coming.

  Maybe he’d got it wrong. Maybe this wasn’t the place. He stood, deciding to return home, hoping she would be there, praying to the gods that his family was safe. He took one last look around the empty promenade before he turned towards his apartment.

  All the way there he kept looking over his shoulder, expecting Valine to appear around the next corner, or behind him, or above on the next level. Desperate, he began to run, feeling like his life was pointless now, until he was outside of his door. He rested there, hardly daring to enter.

  ‘Do it,’ Colmen said to himself as he touched the sensor.

  The door opened and he stepped inside. The automatic lights activated, breaking the shadows apart, and Colmen stood in his living room. Alone. No Rewan, no Tealor. No Valine.

  He slumped into his chair, tears of fear and desperation overwhelming him.

  Valine wasn’t coming. He had lost his family. There was nothing left to do. He activated his wrist com and called Sartang.

  After a moment, the call connected.

  Sartang, sounding groggy, answered. ‘Bran? Do you know what time it is?’

  ‘Listen, please, this is important,’ Colmen replied. ‘My wife and son, they’ve been taken hostage, and we have an intruder on board.’

  INTERROGATION

  T-Minus 1 hour

  They met on the observation level overlooking hanger deck one – a convenient distance between their two apartments. Sartang approached, looking dour. Her usually immaculate hair was untamed, framing her old face, and instead of her pristine uniform she wore a floral jacket and trousers, casual and loose-fitting. In all the years he had known her Colmen could not recall seeing her off duty before.

  ‘I should have come to you sooner,’ Colmen confessed before Sartang had a chance to speak. ‘I’ve been stupid, but they have my family, they have Rewan and Tealor and I don’t know if they’re alive or dead. I don’t know what to do any more . . .’

  Sartang raised a calming hand, and Colmen fell silent. She gestured to a row of seats overlooking the hanger deck windows.

  ‘Slowly, tell me everything,’ Sartang said. She produced a small com device and placed it between them.

  ‘What’s that for?’ Colmen asked.

  ‘I’m recording this,’ she explained. ‘Evidence.’

  Colmen nodded understanding. ‘Yesterday, I went home and–’

  ‘That’s after the crash in the hanger deck?’ Sartang checked.

  ‘Yes, late yesterday. I went to the infirmary, then, once I was discharged, I checked in on the engine deck, then I came home. Bara brought me.’

  ‘Bara?’

  ‘One of my engineers,’ Colmen said, calming his thoughts. ‘Sēbarā Delaterre . . . Bara. They insisted I use a chair, so she brought me home. She didn’t have to. Anyway, I was alone, I went inside and Rewan and Tealor were gone.’

  Sartang nodded. ‘That’s your wife and son?’

  ‘Yes. Tealor is eleven, he’s a good kid.’

  ‘Did you trace them on your com?’

  ‘No,’ Colmen said, closing his eyes as he pictured the scene. ‘She was there. Valine.’

  ‘This is the woman who you think kidnapped them?’ There was a hint of skepticism in Sartang’s words.

  ‘Yes!’ Colmen insisted. ‘She did kidnap them, she admitted it. She had a gun and she threatened me. I couldn’t use the com and she’d disabled our home assistant. But I don’t think she was alone.’

  ‘You saw others?’

  ‘No, no, that’s not what I mean. She talked as if there were others.’

  Sartang sighed, adjusting her jacket. ‘Tell me exactly what she said.’

  ‘She . . . she said that she had my family, that they were safe and that she wanted me to get her some information on our engines. If I didn’t she’d kill me and my family. She gave me this.’ Colmen produced the data stick and gave it to Sartang. ‘She wanted me to take it to the control room on the engine deck and download the fuel ratio log. It’s not a critical piece of information, so I thought it was worth the risk to make sure my family were okay.’

  Sartang studied the data stick, turning it over in her hand. ‘The woman . . . Valine, she gave you this and told you to plug it into your control room system.’

  ‘To get the ratio log, yes.’

  ‘Colmen,’ Sartang’s eyes glared at him. ‘Did you check to see what was on here before you connected it to our system?’

  His neck bristled, as if ice cold fingers were tapping down his spine. ‘N–no,’ he confessed.

  ‘You plugged in an alien data stick into our protected systems, inside our firewall?’

  ‘I had no choice,’ Colmen said defensively.

  ‘There’s always a choice!’ Sartang replied, her temper rising. ‘You should have come to me immediately. We could have checked this device before it was linked to our system. If there was anything malicious on here . . . well, by now it could have done irreparable damage.’

  ‘She just wanted the fuel ratio log,’ Colmen said. But even as he tried to justify his actions he sensed a terrible dread falling over him.

  Sartang stood up. ‘I will test this, see what’s on here. In the meantime, we must check over the camera logs for the corridors around your apartment. If we can get a picture of this Valine then perhaps–’

  Her voice cut off as a chorus of alarms erupted.
Colmen stood, seeing the activity on the hanger deck below. As he watched the pilots scramble to their fighters a voice came over the com system. ‘All hands, brace for impact. We are under attack.’

  CONSEQUENCES

  T-Minus 0 hours

  Bran Colmen rushed to the engine deck control room. As he climbed the steps to the entrance the arkship rocked, listing to one side. He held onto the gantry until the floor had righted itself, and then he staggered into the control room.

  ‘Status report,’ Colmen demanded.

  ‘Chief,’ Flint replied. ‘Engines all green. Cube drive powering up. Gilgore grid up to ninety two percent in critical areas, seventy-five everywhere else.’

  ‘We need that higher,’ he shouted as he took his seat and absorbed the streams of data on his screen. ‘Does anyone know what’s happening out there?’

  ‘Unidentified hostile, that’s all we know so far,’ Braxwell said, a young engineer on the opposite side of the room.

  ‘How soon to cube flight?’

  Before Flint could reply the ship rocked violently. The lights dimmed and objects fell from the desks.

  ‘That was big!’ Colmen said, his hands shaking. He’d never felt anything like that down here before. The engine deck was heavily protected from bombardment. The Gilgore grid would keep almost anything out. He checked his screen again, and his blood ran cold. ‘Gilgore grid is down to twenty percent over the engine core!’

  ‘That’s not possible!’ Braxwell replied.

  ‘It’s still dropping,’ Flint noted, checking his own console. ‘Down to thirteen percent. If we get another hit on the fallorite rods it could ignite the entire stack!’