Dr. Kimura’s gaze met his own, bloodshot, watery, and weary.
“I know, Darius.”
Darius sighed, “I owe him my life, Doctor K. I think near everybody on this ship does. But why do we have to lose a smart man like that, when we could use him the most?”
“Dr. Benedict knew better than anyone that if you want to win, sometimes you have to stack the deck. Sometimes that means playing your opponents along, sometimes it means stacking aces and hoping you don’t get caught cheating. You, your company, and every person on these ships are here for a reason, but it was his decision to stay behind.” The scientist’s soft voice still seemed loud in such a confined space.
Kimura went back to his work on the computer; an occasional chirp gave confirmation of his commands. Darius studied him for a minute or so as he thought.
He’s not normally this evasive.
“So what ace did Dr. Benedict stack back in Laramie that made him stay?” Darius asked.
Dr. Kimura froze momentarily and blinked, as one would expect from a deer caught in the headlights.
“A dirty bomb.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dr. Benedict wanted to assure that we had no pursuers. His intent was to detonate a nuclear device as soon as the transports were clear. Of course, the government was not going to give up any of the warheads they hadn’t yet used in the war, nor were they keen on the idea of intentionally detonating such a weapon on American soil. Dr. Benedict had to make his own.”
Chills ran down Darius’s spine, and goose bumps dotted his ebony skin.
“Do I want to know how?”
Dr. Kimura turned his attention back to his work. “The answer is moot, Darius. I don’t think now is the time to discuss that. I need to make sure our passengers are in hibernation and do a full count.”
Later then, Doctor. I suppose I have my own work to do.
“Darius, are you sure the programming for the crew units is set to correctly cycle out of stasis every five years?”
“Yes I am, sir.”
“And the proximity program for final crew revival?”
Darius forced an uneasy smile. He wanted to be proud of his work, but hearing the details of Dr. Benedict’s sacrifice kept his mind racing.
“The basic program is ready. I just need for you to define what proximity you want me to set it to.”
“Point zero zero five light years, if you please, Mr. Owens.” Dr. Kimura seemed to lose himself in thought. “Darius, so much of our mission depends on a number of variables being exactly correct. Anything we can do to improve our margin of error gives us an infinitesimal greater chance of survival. I want you to promise me something.”
“Anything, Doctor.”
“Should my berth malfunction and you find I am deceased, please make sure to reprogram Kayla Reid’s berth to take my place. You will need her to check passenger status should I pass.”
Darius stared in confusion. His voice cracked ever so slightly and he concentrated on not stuttering. “Oh… okay, Doctor. Yes sir. I need to get back to programming the proximity routine. See you later, Doctor K?”
Dr. Kimura nodded, half bowing at the same time. Darius pushed off from one of the sleeper berths and made his way to the hatch. From there he snaked his way out of the sleeper pod and back into the lonely gallery.
That was an odd request. Does he expect his sleeper to malfunction?
He slowly pulled himself along the handrails built into the floor until he could find a structural brace to push off of. He found a suitable platform and used his mighty legs to propel himself once again aft. He repeated this action several times until he reached the airlock that separated the gallery from the support section.
The hallway inside was nearly black, with only the light filtering in from behind him, and a single strip of LEDs many feet in front of him. Darius navigated by memory to a small terminal in the wall and swiped quickly over the display. A strip of LEDs illuminated softly, like a row of highway lane reflectors at night.
He moved cautiously along the hallway until he reached the door that provided access to the main computer core halfway down the hall. He keyed a code into the pad next to the access hatch, eliciting a reaffirming chirp. The hatch slid open and Darius pulled himself inside.
Racks of computers ran down the room in three parallel lines. Cables were neatly bundled and run into conduits at regular intervals, which lead to a concentration of networking equipment at the far end of the bay. A single workstation sat in solitary watch next to the net switches. Darius made his way to the station and strapped in. He stared blankly for a moment at the prompts on screen in front of him.
XCS-02 MAINFRAME LOGIN:
He typed his account login into the computer, and his password when prompted.
XCS-02 LOGIN ACCEPTED. OWENS, LT. DARIUS. MAINFRAME ACCESS ENABLED. ENABLE VOICE INTERFACE?
Darius keyed an affirmative response.
The computer’s voice was feminine, but undeniably artificial.
“VOICE INTERFACE ENABLED. COMMAND?”
“Access passenger matrix.”
“ACCESSING. SEARCH PARAMETERS?”
“Reid, Kayla.”
Darius could hear drives accessing behind him for a moment before the computer came back with a response. “SEARCH COMPLETE. REID, KAYLA. CIVILIAN. SLEEPER ASSIGNMENT ONE ALPHA SIX. COMMAND?”
“Modify revival parameters.”
The computer spat back a disapproving bleat.
“AUTHORIZATION OF CIVILIAN REVIVAL REQUIRES OVERRIDE COMMAND. REQUEST COMMAND AUTHORITY FROM APPROPRIATE SOURCE.”
Stupid computer.
“Override requested by Doctor Tadashi Kimura. Send confirmation request to his current terminal.”
“STANDBY.”
Darius scratched at his shaved scalp while the computer processed the request. It did not come back with an immediate response.
Doctor must be busy. Or this beast forgot which router to send the request through.
“Secondary process request.”
“COMMAND?”
“Begin audio playback. Genre classical. Terminate process upon response from Dr. Kimura.”
Gabriel’s mainframe chirped once. A moment later, Darius heard the powerful, precise sounds of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony flow through the speakers. He stretched out and looked at the ceiling as he listened. He took deep breaths of the crisp, filtered air. His mind wandered as time slowly passed by.
Darius could not shake the thought that there was something more to Dr. Benedict detonating a nuclear device at the Laramie compound. The Chinese didn’t have any air support. If they did, the large, slow rockets would have been easy prey.
Why was it so important to use that much power against ground troops? And riflemen at that. From the reports I heard, they didn’t have any armored units. What did Dr. Benedict need to stay behind and protect that the Marines could not have bought time for?
The music stopped. For a moment, only the white noise of cooling fans echoed through the room.
“REQUEST ACKNOWLEDGED. PLEASE STATE REQUIRED MODIFICATIONS.”
“Add conditional revival code. Primary condition, incapacitation of Doctor Tadashi Kimura. Corollary condition, synchronize with maintenance revival schedule.”
The mainframe clicked and processed for a few seconds.
“MODIFICATION COMPLETE. COMMAND?”
“Access proximity revival routine. Set proximity value to point zero zero five light years.”
Again the computer calculated.
“MODIFICATION COMPLETE. COMMAND?”
Darius considered his next task carefully.
Sometimes you have to stack the deck, Dr. Kimura’s voice echoed within his mind. So much of our mission depends on a number of variables being exactly correct.
Darius drew a deep breath, held it, and then released it. The computer is my variable, let’s see if I can stack the deck.
“Begin system audit. System status check, computers an
d network system. Graphical representation.”
A picture of Gabriel’s basic network structure appeared on the workstation screen. Darius zoomed in and viewed each link in the system meticulously, section by section. He had barely finished his audit of the crew pod and started on the bridge when he gasped and froze.
“Computer, identify this link,” he said as he tapped a gray strand that radiated from the communications array back into the body of the ship.
“ANALYZING. SOFTWARE BRIDGE IN COMMUNICATIONS SYSTEM.”
“I can see that, but that link was removed in version 4.22 of the com software, not to mention the 1.61.C firmware update. Why is it there?”
With a sharp beep, the computer registered its disapproval in an almost disdainful way.
“COM SOFTWARE VERSION 4.22 CHECKSUM ERROR. FILE CORRUPT. CURRENT COM SOFTWARE VERSION IS 4.15.”
Darius gasped. “What? Define current firmware version.”
“CURRENT FIRMWARE VERSION 1.61.A. ERROR. REDUNDANT FIRMWARE FAILURE. AUTOMATIC FAILSAFE PROCEDURE ENGAGED. TERMINAL ACCESS RESTRICTED UNTIL REDUNDANT FIRMWARE CAN BE RELOADED.”
With a negative chirp, the mainframe ceased talking to Darius and switched to a standby screen.
Well, better to find this out now so I can fix it.
1st Lt Haruka Kimura
17 August 2014, 02:22
Raphael
Lieutenant Kimura placed another anonymous bag in the storage locker. This one was a green plaid soft sided carry-on style bag, the last one before it was a gray duffel bag, and the one before that was a small pink backpack. She closed the locker, pulled herself to the next one on her right, and opened the door to reveal the nothingness inside.
This is what is left of their lives, she thought. Mancini handed her another bag, this one an old surplus army duffel. She slid it in place at the bottom of the locker. Another story to tell. Maybe I will see its owner, hear their story. After all, we don’t have much left otherwise.
She had been pressed into service moving the belongings and luggage of passengers from the last two transports to dock with Raphael. They were Whiskey Zero Nine and Whiskey Zero Six. And they would recognize me as much as I them.
Haruka received baggage from Mancini, who in turn retrieved them from a cart that floated nearby. This was the last of the baggage from transport Whiskey Zero Six, the last to dock. Elsewhere, she knew, the passengers were being settled and closed into their sleeper berths. The ship was nearly silent; only the whisper of air circulation and a low hum made by the support mechanisms were audible.
They finished their work, and Haruka closed the final locker, barely half full. With great care, she and Lieutenant Marco Mancini moved the cart out of sleeper pod fourteen, and secured it to the hand railings in the gallery. They were no longer being used by the passengers, as all had reported to their sleeper pods. She looked down the massive expanse towards the bridge, eventually fading into darkness.
Humbling from the inside as well as the outside. She’s huge.
Haruka knew the specifications well. Eight hundred meters long, two hundred meters wide, supply pods lining her belly stem to stern. Including the pod under the bridge, she had fifteen sleeper pods, two medical pods, a workshop pod, and a galley pod. Though her capacity was not much more than the other sleeper ships at 2400 people, Raphael was designed to be the first to land, to provide services to the entire colony. Like the other ships, she was supplied with everything a new colony might need: heavy machinery, power tools, fuel, medical and food supplies. There were even two special supply pods fitted with biostasis berths for domesticated animals ranging from horses to sheep to dogs.
Out of the darkness, a young man in a flight suit floated swiftly towards Haruka and Mancini. He was many pods away, but moved with a purpose. Haruka righted herself on the cart and awaiting the herald from the forward section of Raphael. It took a minute, but he arrived.
“The colonel wishes to see you, Lieutenant Kimura. You too, Lieutenant Mancini,” the herald said.
“Thank you, Airman.” The brown-haired youth pushed off and left the two behind, carrying on his duties. Debriefing time. Hopefully she will let me sleep before giving me a new assignment. Haruka was tired. She had not been given any time to rest after their near disastrous launch and docking, instead put to work directing and securing passengers and their baggage.
Haruka grabbed the cart and heaved off down the long gallery, with Mancini at her heels. She snapped her arms to keep air resistance down and keep her speed up. She knew that she would still have to give herself a few more speed boosts to get to the bridge. Tunnels to the sleeper pods passed right and left, and a ladder way down to the lower backbone and docking ports gaped darkly below her as she floated past. Minimal lighting was present in the gallery so the crew could move around, but the lighting in the lower levels was already turned off to conserve power.
As she approached the medical pods, Haruka knew she was barely halfway to the bridge. She grabbed a structural support as she passed and, pushing off with her legs, gave herself a great boost in speed. We will be maintaining this whole ship with a skeleton crew, she thought to herself. That is a tall order. I wonder how long it will take us each cycle.
The next set of pods contained the galley and workshop, and a crewman was securing a cart outside the galley. He briefly glanced as Haruka and Mancini floated by. She could make out the split staircase leading to the bridge and the crew’s sleeper pod, just emerging from the darkness ahead.
They floated to another structural support and pushed onward. Another dark hole in the flooring signaled a ladder way to the lower levels. Two more sleeper pods drifted by, reminding Haruka of the task that would need to be done to maintain the ship. Maybe the colonel will let more of the crew come out of sleep to handle the work load.
Minutes passed and little changed in the scenery. At last the duo reached the staircase. The right half led down into the crew’s sleeper pod, the left side up to the bridge. Haruka straightened her uniform and pulled herself up onto the bridge, Mancini in tow like a puppy.
The bridge of Raphael was much larger than the cockpit of the transport she flew into space. There was ample room to move about, and stations for 10 crew, including the commanding officer. While navigation, engineering, and operations stations were grouped in clusters of three, the workstations themselves were not crowded. Overhead, a canopy of dozens of sections of glass extended all the way back to the top of the stairs and forward until it disappeared under the deck plating in front of her. The command chair sat on a platform that was elevated three feet above the crew stations, and surrounded by a railing. Three breaks were present in the railing and led to the clusters of work stations. Engineering was to the left of the command chair, operations to the right, and navigation was in front. In this arrangement, the commanding officer and the navigators had a full view of what was beyond the canopy. Though the steel hull created blind spots along the flank, exterior cameras could be called up on the nav stations to circumvent the issue.
As Haruka floated over the deck plating and forward, she could see Captain Bartrand seated at one of the navigation stations. He hunched over the station, reviewing screens of data, and observing the status of the navigation and propulsion systems. Over one of the engineering stations loomed the Chief Engineer, Captain Maynard. An eager young Lieutenant Shipp sat at an operations station.
“Elevation thrust please, Mr. Bartrand. Nice and easy, let’s clear these transports,” came a stern female voice from the command chair. “Lieutenant Shipp, let’s get everyone up here, including the doctor.”
“All crew to the bridge, all crew to the bridge. Doctor Nelson, please report to the bridge,” Shipp’s voice echoed over the general com system.
A hand came down to the side of the command chair, released a lock, and the chair swiveled to the side. With another motion, its occupant locked the chair’s position one more time. Haruka could see that she was tall, but also very fit. She had hard line
s, and her crow’s feet and graying brown hair gave her a further air of distinction. Colonel Marissa Fox was all business, and it showed in every move she made.
Haruka and Mancini saluted. “Lieutenant Marco Mancini and Lieutenant Haruka Kimura, reporting as requested, ma’am,” chimed Mancini.
They received a return salute. “Very well. It’s time to get underway. After having to deal with the emergency docking of Whiskey Zero Four and the fact that we had one more transport to unload than the other ships, we’re running late. Mancini, take an ops station please. Kimura, you’re on nav.”
“Yes ma’am” they replied in unison.
No debriefing. No sleep for the weary, either. Let’s get this over with.
Harukaa grabbed the railing and pulled herself to a station at the nose of the bridge, just below the level of the command chair. She slipped into her familiar position to the right of Bartrand, and secured her harness. She glanced back over her shoulder to the right at Mancini belting himself in to an ops station. She then focused her attention on the controls fed to her station by Bartrand’s terminal. Main drive control, Captain? She thought. Fixing her gaze out of the windows directly in front of her, she sighed quietly. Let’s hope Dr. Benedict’s course calculations loaded correctly.
Haruka heard Colonel Fox giving orders behind her. “Lander, Perez, engineering stations please. Overton, ops. Ellsworth, go to nav.” Then she momentarily lost the harshness in her voice. “Doctor Nelson, please. Take my seat. This ride might be a bit bumpy.”
“Thank you, Colonel.” The doctor’s voice was soothing, almost like a song. Haruka looked over her shoulder and watched the aging doctor take the command chair and strap in. Colonel Fox braced herself against the railing behind the nav stations. Airman Ellsworth took the final navigation console seat on the far side of Captain Bartrand.
“Are we clear of the transports, Captain?” asked Fox.
Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 3
