Stranded on Haven
By
William Zellmann
Copyright 2014
All rights reserved
Cover - Jason Moser via Elance
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
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About the Author
Chapter 1
"…GENCY! EMERGENCY!" The shouting voice and squawking alarms were the first thing I heard. "EMERGENCY ACTION REQUIRED! EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY ACTION REQUIRED!"
"Oh, shut up," I said as I pushed open the top of the cold-sleep cabinet. With my raging headache, the last thing I needed was all this noise! After a moment, though, the words penetrated. Emergency? What kind of emergency could a starship in Jump have? Well, I'd been awakened; maybe we weren't in Jump any more.
And why hadn't the Captain shut off those damned alarms?
I rolled out of the cabinet, staggering slightly. Oh, Well, I decided sourly, I'd probably just be in the way on the bridge in an emergency, but damn it, I could at least ask the Captain to cut off those damned alarms!
I guess I was still a little disoriented. I knew the top four decks were for underway crew only, and off limits to inport crew, but, well, I could always plead 'emergency'!
The bridge is on Deck 1, of course, and the cold sleep units on Deck 12. By the time I got there, I was puffing mightily. I was a bit surprised that no underway crew tried to stop me; in fact, I didn't even see any underway crew until I got to the bridge. And then I wished I hadn't. Seen them, I mean.
There were three people on the bridge. Or rather, the corpses of three people. All of them were curled into fetal positions, as though in great pain. And all three had been dead awhile; their faces were sunken and gray, and the stench almost unbearable.
Hey, I'm just a cargo handler. I don't know anything about starships. I was in big trouble!
But the alarms were still screaming, my head was still pounding, and now I was terrified. "Oh, SHUT UP!" I shouted.
My mouth actually dropped open when they did shut up! What the hell? My heart soared. Maybe I wasn't the only one left! "Hello?" I asked tentatively.
"Emergency action is required immediately, Captain," The voice seemed to come from the walls, a gentle feminine contralto. Well, Okay, I'm not quite as stupid as I look. "Are you the ship's Artificial Intelligence?" I asked.
"Yes, Captain. Immediate action is required. Unless you institute emergency procedures to drop us out of Jump, we may become marooned in Jump space forever."
I shook my head. "I'm not the Captain. And I have no idea what emergency action to take."
"You appear to be the only surviving human, Captain. That puts you in command. I can advise you on the required actions."
"Well, get to it. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in nothingness!"
"Yes, Captain. Please approach the Captain's chair. It is recommended you not touch the remains with your bare hands."
I grimaced. The Captain's chair was still occupied by what was left of the Captain. "Oh, great," I said. "Can I do this without disturbing the, uh, remains?"
"Yes, Captain," said the AI. "On the right arm of the Captain's chair is a large red button beneath a clear cover. It is the Emergency Emergence control. Lift the clear cover and press the red button. Hold it for at least five seconds."
Luckily, the Captain had curled to his left; the right chair arm was easily accessible. The big red button was easy to spot; most emergency controls are oversized. As I flipped open the cover and jammed my thumb onto the button, I couldn't help snickering at the phrase "Emergency Emergence".
I didn't even get to finish my snicker before I felt that horrible inside-out, everything wrong feeling I get every time I go into or out of Jump. That's why I never applied for underway crew. I'd rather sleep through it than spew my guts all over the deck every time. This time, though, I was fresh from cold sleep, so there was nothing in my stomach to throw up. I sure retched a lot, though.
Finally, I stopped retching, and took a few deep breaths. Okay, we were out of Jump. At least we'd die in the real universe.
Thousands of ships have disappeared in Jump over the centuries, and the Jump Physicists have struggled to come up with explanations and precautions. Somebody had once explained it to me this way: that a ship in Jump is a small bubble of reality, suspended in a theoretical mathematical construct. Anything that changes the ship, such as a change in mass, changes the construct, and its relationship to the bubble; and the field can no longer collapse a construct that has changed since the field was established. So, the ship cannot emerge, and will drift in Jump forever. Apparently, a lot of other things can cause a ship to become lost in Jump, too. Jump theory and Jump mechanics tend to drive researchers crazy, so there's not a lot of detail available. Even worse, some of the lost ships might even be in the real universe. If something caused them to drop out of Jump light years from the nearest system, for instance.
Like we had just done.
Jump lets us cross light years in weeks, but sometimes the stars are far between. Our normal-space drive, or reaction drive, is of course limited to a fraction of lightspeed. If a ship dropped out of Jump fifty light-years from the nearest star, it would take almost 100 years to get there on reaction drive, even if the fuel held out. It might actually take twice as long, since it would be out of fuel and coasting, and crewed only by the dead.
"Uh, Ship?" I asked uncertainly, "Where are we? Where's the nearest star? Does it have an Earthlike planet?" I paused. "And what do I call you, anyway?"
"Our location is still undetermined, Captain," the AI replied. "I am computing possible locations based on our original course and time in Jump, and comparing those computations with observed stellar images. There does appear to be a class G star approximately .978 light years from our present position. I cannot yet tell whether it has an Earthlike planet. If I can locate the system on the Stellar Index, I will be able to answer that question.
"As for what to call me, that is your decision, Captain. Officially, I am Starship NZ90478-JXR2709, hull number RKZ 34092. Few humans use that form of identification, however. You are free to address me by any name you find convenient."
I thought hard. Then I smiled. "My ex-mate was always telling me what to do, and I have a feeling you're going to be doing a lot of that, too. So, I think I'll call you 'Lisa'. Is that acceptable?"
"Of course, Captain. From now on I will respond to that name."
I took a deep breath. "Okay, there's no sense putting it off any longer. What the hell happened, why is everybody dead, and am I going to get dead, too?"
"Captain Hastings suspected sabotage, Captain. We had been in Jump for just under 220 hours when the entire underway crew reported identical symptoms just after dinner. Just over hal
f an hour elapsed between onset of symptoms and death, in most cases. The last to die was Assistant Astrogator Royles. The Captain's log will record the details prior to his death."
I looked around, frowning. "There's no mess," I said. "No vomit or anything. Why don't you think I should touch them with my bare hands?"
I could almost hear a shrug in the voice. "Purely a precaution, Captain. If it were indeed a poison administered in their food, touching them would probably not be a problem. But if it was a contact poison, passed by touch, it would probably still be potent. There will also be necrotic products that could be infectious or hazardous."
I nodded. "Yeah. Speaking of 'necrotic products', can you do something about the stench? I'm afraid I'm going to be retching again any minute."
"Removal of the bodies will permit the life support system to remove the tainted air in just over thirty minutes," Lisa replied. "To facilitate removal, I recommend an isolation suit from the damage control locker to your left. It is a transparent plas suit with a green pressure bottle and mask attached. It is designed to permit repairs in hazardous environments."
I nodded, and headed for the clearly marked locker. "What about the inport crew? How come I'm the only one here?"
"Unknown, Captain. I executed override commands to awaken inport crew in accordance with normal emergency procedures, but at present I do not have access to or control of the cold sleep apparatus." A very short pause. "You are the only living human I can detect aboard. Perhaps the cold sleep cabinets malfunctioned, and other crew members are available to be awakened."
I frowned. "Yeah. Well, I guess that's my first job. I hate to truck all the way back down to deck 12 and back." I sighed. "Now I wish I'd checked before I came up here."
"The surveillance system in the cold sleep compartment reveals that yours is the only opened cabinet, Captain. This would indicate a catastrophic malfunction, or a failure of the emergency override commands. As for traveling back and forth, may I recommend the Captain's lift, Captain?"
I suppressed a curse. The Captain's lift was a standing joke for the inport crew. The Captain normally shuts down the ship's artificial gravity during loading and unloading, and we normally work in free-fall. And in free fall, of course, the shaft of the Captain's lift was like an expressway between decks. In port, the Captain normally parked his lift car on Deck 4, making it a roadblock and keeping us uncouth inporters from invading the underway crew's sanctum.
By now I'd finished equipping myself. I sighed in relief when the mask settled over my face, sealing out the horrible smell. I may not be the smartest guy in the universe, but I'm no fool. Sooner or later, I was going to be handling and moving those bodies, whether I managed to find help or not. So, I now wore the complete isolation suit, booties, and gloves, in addition to the breathing apparatus. The door to the Captain's lift opened as I approached. I punched for deck 12, and arrived in only a few moments.
The door opened on the control room of the cold sleep installation. A single body lay curled on the deck. I walked over to the control panel.
"Lisa? Are you there?" I knew the isolation suit had a comm set, so I was not surprised when she replied.
"Yes, Captain?"
"I'm at the control panel for the cold sleep installation. You mentioned that you are not connected to the cold sleep system. Is there a way to give you access?"
"Yes, Captain," came the calm voice. "Normally, I am connected to all systems, including life support and cold sleep. As a safety precaution, those two systems can be disconnected from normal ship control. The connection was manually reset. At the top right edge of the panel is a switch marked 'Local' and 'Ship'. Set it to 'Ship', and I will be able to access information on the cold sleep system."
I found the switch with no trouble, "Can you tell anything about the current status?"
"I'm sorry, Captain," Lisa said softly. "All eleven remaining cabinets have been shut down via manual control."
I could feel my eyes widen. "All of them? What about mine?"
"Yours was the only cabinet to respond to my emergency signal," Lisa replied, "and it is the only one not manually shut down."
I frowned. "But why? Why leave mine activated?"
"The actions of criminals and terrorists are often irrational," Lisa replied. "One possibility is that the body on the floor is the terrorist, who accidentally infected himself with his own poison, and died before he could reset the control for your cabinet. There are other possibilities, however."
I couldn't stop there, of course. I left the control room and checked each cabinet myself. It wasn't pretty. Nine men and two women lay dead in cabinets that had become coffins. I looked at the waxy face of Annie Cantell and sighed. I'd really liked Annie. I'd been pursuing her throughout the voyage, and she'd given me the impression that my efforts were not unwelcome.
I turned away reluctantly, shaking my head. "All right, Lisa. I guess the next step is to get rid of the bodies. What do you recommend?"
"The bodies are a possible source of reaction mass," Lisa replied in a formal tone, "however; decomposition and necrotic products make it unwise to keep them for that purpose, since sufficient freezer facilities are not available. Recommend they be jettisoned."
I took a deep breath, and nodded. "Out the airlock it is, then."
There was a cart available, normally used for moving cabinets when necessary, and I began the nasty job of removing the bodies from the cabinets and placing them on the cart. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't respectful; several of those guys outweighed me, and they were literally dead weights.
It was really creepy walking through that huge, empty ship, pushing a cart full of dead bodies, and I had to do it three times. The last time, I stopped in the control room and added the body of Bosun Schneider.
"I think we may have our culprit," I told Lisa. I'd been talking to her a lot. The silence was really getting to me. "The Bosun didn't have anything to do with the cold sleep system, and I can't think of a sensible reason for him to be down here. Has there been anything unusual in his behavior?"
"I will scan surveillance records," Lisa replied. "But we may never know why he did what he did."
I frowned. "Y'know, I've been hearing rumors that some of the ships disappearing recently were really hijacked, and turned up in other sectors under fake names. Suppose he had a pirate ship waiting for him at our first recal stop? We emerge with a dead crew, and they have a ship and its cargo, and it just becomes another mysterious Jump disappearance."
"An interesting possibility," Lisa answered, "and one which I had not considered. If the Jump drive had not malfunctioned, we would have emerged 60 hours ago."
I was startled. "What? You mean we missed a recal stop? How is that possible?"
"That was the primary effect of the malfunction, and my first realization that we had a Jump emergency."
I frowned. "Okay, I need a little help with the timeline, here. You're telling me we've been traveling supralight for 60 hours on an uncharted course? And that those alarms have been going for 60 hours? What happened? If you sent the emergency wakeup signal 60 hours ago, why did I just wake up now?"
"I cannot explain the anomaly. I have been sending the revival message every 10.7 seconds for the last 60 hours."
I had reached the Deck 12 airlock with my last load. I lifted and dragged the bodies into the lock, and secured the inner hatch. Believe me, the less said about that the better. I had to stop four times for attacks of retching. Then I pressed the "cycle" control, and the bodies stirred as the air was pumped from the lock. Then the hatch swung open, and the last bit of air propelled the bodies into the blackness of space. The sense of relief was almost physical.
After a moment, though, I sighed. There was still the underway crew. “Lisa,” I asked, “Can your surveillance system locate all the bodies?”
“I have done so, Captain,” she replied. “Aside from the three bodies on the bridge, there are four in the med bay, and four in crew berthing. With the twel
ve you have already ejected, and yourself, that totals 24, the entire complement.”
I sighed. “All right. I might as well get to it. Can you unlock the freight elevator? I'm going to need this cart.”
“Your retina scan will now open it, Captain. I have updated all relevant records to show that you have assumed command.”
I grimaced. “Yeah. Command of a flying tomb.”
“May I remind you, Captain, that Startrader is a Beta-class freighter, carrying over 50,000 tonnes of general cargo, and that under the laws of space, as the sole survivor, you are entitled to claim salvage rights to both the ship and its cargo.”
I brightened. “Hey! That's right! Even if it has to go to a salvage court on some planet, I'll end up rich.” My wide grin faded. “Assuming, of course, that we can reach a planet before we run out of fuel or I starve to death.”
“I contain sufficient fuel reserves for over a year of normal operations, Captain; with the reduced life support requirements, those reserves should be sufficient for almost twenty years. I might also mention that 5 tonnes of our cargo consists of fuel metal. That amount would last for more than another twenty years. Since we will be sublight, I would expect our reserves to last over 50 years. I also contain food and other life support supplies sufficient to last one person more than fifty years.”
“Or until I suicide,” I muttered under my breath. I did not intend to spend the next fifty years hurtling through space alone, with only the ship itself for company.
Oh, well, I decided. Plenty of time to worry about that.
By the time I had gathered and ejected all the bodies, I was exhausted. I hadn't eaten since I was revived, but handling dead people was not something to raise an appetite. In fact, my throat was sore from the spells of retching.
Finally I collapsed into the Captain's chair on the bridge. Why not? I thought wryly. He won't mind. In fact, it's really my chair, now! I straightened, and felt the chair adjust itself to my body. The arms of the chair were lined with controls. There was the emergency button I'd already used, of course, and the log recorder with its memory crystal in place, but it seemed I could do anything from establishing secure communications with other ships or space stations, to flooding the entire ship with sleep gas. And those were just the manual controls. Through Lisa, I could do just about anything within the ship's capabilities. Imagine! Me! Sticks Carver, slum rat, hewer of wood and drawer of water, Captain of a starship! For a moment, there was huge feeling of power. Then I remembered.
Stranded on Haven Page 1
