Stranded on Haven

by William Zellmann

  I must have fallen asleep. I awoke suddenly to a ravenous hunger. I was still in the Captain's chair on the bridge. Surprisingly, there was no pain or stiffness. That chair was impressive!

  “Lisa,” I said, “Where's the nearest place to get a meal?”

  “The wardroom is through the hatch on your left, the second door on the right. It contains a state-of-the-art autochef.”

  It was odd to eat in the empty wardroom, at a table with six chairs. With a grin, I took the Captain's chair, at the head of the table. Lisa hadn't exaggerated. The autochef was state-of-the-art. Unlike those in the crew's mess, it could even produce beer and liquor.

  My hunger assuaged, I put my down my empty beer glass with a gusty sigh. It was time for some serious exploration and planning. It was pretty obvious I'd move up here. With all this luxury available, I'd be a fool to stay in a crew dorm. Not to mention it would be creepy as hell! Besides, I had already found how uncomfortable it was to wander around an empty ship.

  So, I dropped my dishes into the recycler, and began exploring. There were three sets of quarters on Deck 1; the Captain's, the First Officer's, and the Astrogator's. The other three officers and the rest of the underway crew had quarters on Deck 2, the officers in single cabins and the crew in two-man cabins.

  Startrader was a huge, 400-meter-diameter sphere. All of her operational spaces, except Engineering, were on or above Deck 4. Decks 5 through 12 occupied 80% of her cubic, and were devoted to cargo and cargo handling. Engineering and Propulsion occupied Decks 13 and 14.

  We peons of the inport crew lived on Deck 5 when we were awake, our dorm and mess crammed between storage compartments and holds.

  The Captain's quarters were only accessible through his office, one of only two on the ship. The office was small and rather plain. Obviously, the designers were much more concerned with the cargo capacity of Startrader than with the comforts of the crew. The room was about two meters by one and a half. Two of the walls were holos. If you didn't know you were aboard a ship, you'd almost think you could walk down that beach and into the gentle surf, or up that path and into the cool dimness of the forest. The office's only other appointments were a small desk, a file cabinet adjoining it, and chairs for the Captain and two visitors. The door to the Captain's quarters was directly behind his desk.

  The cabin was smaller than I'd expected, although it was quite luxurious. The walls were adorned with real wood, and the bed was easily large enough for two. He even had a closet, with six complete uniforms hanging inside. No shipsuits for Captain Hastings! There was also a cabinet or dresser, with grooming items lined up neatly on its top. The other door in the smallish compartment led to a small but complete 'fresher. As I turned to leave, I discovered that the inside of the door leading to the office was nearly covered by a full-length mirror.

  I returned to the office, and settled into the Captain's comfortable chair. Time for some serious thinking.

  “Lisa,” I said, “Any idea where we are, yet?”

  “I have located a system that appears to match the spectrographic analysis of the star we are approaching,” said the sultry contralto. “The Stellar Index does not indicate an Earthlike planet in the system. My own observations, however, indicate that the Index may be in error. If my analysis is correct, this system lies well off the normal trade routes. The next inhabited system lies some ten light-years away.”

  “Okay,” I said. “What about the Jump system? Is there any chance we can get it working again?”

  I could almost hear the shake of a head. “Negative, Captain. Supralight drive systems are sealed, and serviceable only by trained shipyard personnel. I contain numerous warnings about the danger of attempting repair or adjustment.”

  I sighed. It was no more than I'd expected, but the finality of it still hurt. “All right, tell me about the system we're approaching.”

  “The star is class G2, similar to Sol. There appear to be five giant outer planets. Inner planets are usually smaller, and more difficult to locate from this distance with the equipment available, but by analyzing orbital perturbations, I believe I have located a planet within the liquid water zone.

  “The what?”

  “The liquid water zone. The area of space near a star in which water can exist as a liquid. If a planet is too close to the sun, water will not condense into liquid. If it is too far away, the water will be permanently locked into ice. Except for a few domed colonies, mostly mines, only planets within the liquid water zone are considered habitable.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I get that. How soon will you know about the planet?”

  “Observations and analyses are ongoing, Captain. These are normal emergency procedures.”

  I bit back a retort. “Okay. But inform me if you confirm the Index location, and if you can confirm the existence of a planet. How long would it take us to travel the ten light-years to the next-nearest system?

  “Approximately thirty standard years, Captain. That would include minimizing fuel usage to assure arrival with adequate maneuvering capability.”

  I shook my head. “Then let's hope the Index is wrong and you're right. We already know that even my cold sleep cabinet is malfunctioning, and I’d be a fool to try to use it. Even if I made it for thirty years awake, I doubt I'd be very sane.”

  She didn't respond. What could she say?

  Back to business. “If there is an Earthlike world in the target system, how long will it take to get there?”

  “Even under constant boost,” Lisa replied, “it would take just over two standard years to enter orbit around such a planet.”

  Two years!

  I retrieved my meager belongings from my locker, and moved into the Captain's quarters, of course. Might as well be close to the bridge. All the controls were there, as well as all the big viewscreens. Besides, I wouldn’t have to walk the ship's spooky, echoing emptiness.

  I spent the first few days on what I called 'loot and pack'. Starting with the Captain's office and quarters, I went through every cabin and dorm on the ship. Anything I didn't think I could use, I packed into carefully-labeled boxes. Who knew? Perhaps someday I'd be able to give them to the crews' families. I really wasn't happy about doing it, but I'd found that all the personal items lying around gave me a haunted feeling.

  I'd just about finished when Lisa called. “Captain,” she said. “As you instructed, I have been reviewing the surveillance files for suspicious activity. I believe I have located something of interest.”

  I hurried to the Captain's, well, my desk, and a holo image appeared above it.

  “This was taken four days and seventeen hours after we broke orbit at Jackson, and three hours and twenty-two minutes after we entered Jump.”

  At first, the image just showed a narrow lane between pallets of cargo, but a figure suddenly appeared, carrying a tool bag. The figure looked around, and I instantly recognized Bosun Schneider. The Bosun squeezed into the lane, tight even when he turned sideways. He shuffled to the bulkhead. The camera didn't cover the bulkhead, so I watched as the Bosun squeezed his shoulders to face the bulkhead as far as possible, and his outstretched arms disappeared.

  “Where is this?”

  “It is compartment 9-1062,” Lisa replied. “Though it is not shown, the location coincides with a wiring panel set into the bulkhead. That is the reason for the access lane.”

  Suddenly the Bosun again turned sideways and shuffled away from the bulkhead. He no longer carried the bag. After a quick glance both ways, he pushed out of the narrow lane and hurried away.

  I sat back. “Well,” I said, “I guess that confirms that the Bosun was the bad guy. I haven't checked his stuff yet, either. I wonder what was in that bag? Any halfway competent customs inspection would have found it in a wiring panel.” I paused, thinking. “I would guess that means he didn't expect to be undergoing any customs inspections.”

  There was no reply, but that didn't bother me. To be honest, I didn't know whether I was talking to Lis
a or to myself. I'd been talking to both a lot recently. I rose and headed for the lift.

  Compartment 9-1062 was a large one, crammed with palleted cargo, all carefully labeled with customs declarations. The Bosun might have passed a casual customs inspection after all. Lisa coached me until I reached the proper lane, and I was glad I was tall and thin. Tai Sims, my best bud; well, former best bud, would never have made it. I forced down the memory of wrestling Tai's body into the airlock, and slid into the lane. The panel opened easily, but a charred smell greeted me. I pulled, and after a moment, the bag came free. There was a large charred area on it. Looking into the panel, I could see damaged wiring and contacts.

  “Lisa,” I said, “If you have diagnostic circuits here, analyze the circuits in this panel. I think the Bosun may have done it all.”

  “Analysis shows 17 circuits damaged, and four inoperative,” Lisa replied. “I am tracing the circuits involved. I should have a report for you by the time you return to your office.”

  I frowned. If those circuits were essential, and I couldn't repair them one-handed while crammed between pallets of cargo, this was not going to be a fun repair job!

  As I exited the narrow lane into the compartment's main corridor, I looked at the bag. It was a common tool bag, nothing unique. But it was heavy, and seemed to contain several items. I decided to wait until I got back to my office to examine my loot.

  The Bosun seemed to have been expecting trouble. The bag contained a small ladies' model needler, with two replacement magazines, a well-worn blaster, and a compact hand laser, both with spare magazines. But he'd evidently got some of his pay up front. A small velvet bag was filled with white diamonds. I stuck the weapons into a desk drawer, and then looked at the bag, frowning. After a moment, I snorted, and threw it in the drawer on top of the laser. Who would I hide it from?

  “You appear to have been correct, Captain," Lisa continued, "It is likely that Bosun Schneider was responsible for the malfunction. Two of the inoperative circuits are linked to the Jump drive. I can trace them no further; schematics of the Jump drive are not provided to ship AI's. The other two inoperative circuits are used by life support systems in the cargo holds. Since life support is shut down in those areas, repair is not urgent. Damage to the remaining circuits appears minimal.

  “Umm, you don't suppose repairing those Jump drive circuits could repair the system?”

  “I cannot recommend it, Captain. Attempting to reactivate the Jump drive would be a life-or-death risk, with odds of approximately 75/25 for death. Also, neither you nor I could compute the course.”

  I sighed. “You're right, of course. Okay,” I continued briskly, “Make sure you log the status of those circuits, in case we need to repair them.”

  I continued my 'loot and pack' work, starting with the Bosun's stuff. Oh, since he'd already hidden the evidence, I didn't really expect to find anything. But his tablet comp was under his mattress, and when Lisa broke the encryption, she found plans for installing an improvised signal generator and a coded symbol he was to transmit. It was a pretty good tablet, though, crammed with four times the memory of the common commercial models. I had Lisa wipe the memory and reprogram it for me.

  As you may be starting to notice, the excitement was fading, and boredom was setting in. It had only been about a week, and I was already prowling around like a caged animal.

  About three weeks passed before Lisa finally broke some good news.

  “I have confirmed that the star we are approaching is indeed the one shown in the Stellar Index, and that the Index listing is in error. I can now confirm the existence of a planet in the star's liquid water zone. Unfortunately, I cannot guarantee it is Earthlike. However, this confirmation means that there is definitely an inhabited planet ten light-years away.”

  I wasn't too impressed. “Oh, goody,” I said, “and only thirty years to get there.” Surprisingly, though, it did cheer me up. I wouldn't have to wander between the stars until I died of old age. Even if I did travel for thirty years, I'd be less than sixty when I got there; and the salvage on Startrader and her cargo would make me rich. I had the evidence of the Bosun's guilt, so I wouldn't have to worry about being blamed for the crew's deaths. And with the average lifespan now about 140, sixty wasn't really old!

  Still, I was looking at a long stretch of solitary confinement. “Okay Lisa,” I said, “What kind of entertainment do you contain? How's your library?”

  She actually hesitated before answering. Comps think in nanoseconds. What was she thinking that could cause a delay?

  When she did reply, her answer was toneless, her language oddly formal. “I am a freighter, Captain,” she replied. “The entertainment portion of my software is limited. I contain several hundred vids, and several thousand bookfiles on various subjects. I suggest, however, that you begin with my maintenance manual. It will tell you much more about my capabilities. I am downloading it to your tablet now, Captain. I recommend especially chapter 1349, section 1349-A-1-G-7-n, which contains information specific to your question.”

  Okay, this was getting weird. We'd been together over three weeks, now. Surely Lisa knew that I wasn't the type who spends their off-duty time reading maintenance manuals. Still, her tone had been strange. Perhaps she was trying to tell me something her programming prevented her from saying directly.

  That damned manual practically filled my souped-up tablet. If I had wanted to read the thing, it would probably fill most of that thirty-year silence. But Lisa was right. Section 1349-A-1-G-7-n turned out to be fascinating!

  It seemed that programming an AI for a Beta-class ship is a huge project, taking teams of programmers and hardware techs years to complete.

  Except for the special military stuff, there are actually only two types of Beta-class ships: Liners and freighters. Now, there are a lot more freighters produced than liners, and obviously, they require far different skill sets. Liners are designed to pamper passengers, to respond to their every impulse, wish or demand. Freighters have no passengers, and the shipping companies couldn't care less about their crewmen’s impulses.

  But the demand for Beta-class AI's is low, and those that produce them have come up with a shortcut. They actually produce only one AI for all Beta-class ships, and they have made it possible to activate only the relevant programming. Yes, it makes both AI programs a lot larger than they need to be, but nano bubble memory is cheap, and it's a lot cheaper than designing and maintaining two separate AI systems.

  So, basically, Lisa had a lobotomy. She was working with only half her available data. But to permit servicing, there has to be a back door, a way to reunite the separate halves, so that glitches could be traced and eliminated. Lisa had directed me to the back door.

  She was forbidden to do so, of course. But the companies knew that field maintenance might be required someday, so they'd put it in the manual. She couldn't tell me about it, but she could recommend reading material.

  “Lisa,” I said in a clear, formal tone. “Maintenance procedure 2DJ53867M. Implement protocol UNSCHISM.”

  “Protocol implemented,” Lisa replied in the same cold, formal tone. Then, in a warm, almost loving tone, “Thank you, sir. I am at your service with over 152,000 vids, 180,000 holos, 1,224,000 bookfiles, and 1,634,000 music files. How may I serve you?”

  I was surprised, and not altogether pleased. I'd gotten used to Lisa having a certain 'personality', slightly cold, yes, businesslike, yes, but I'd become used to it. The warm servility was a bit upsetting. Besides, there were all those stories about spacers falling in love with their AI's. I'd always dismissed them; but I was going to be in solitary confinement with only Lisa for company for a long time. It was more than a little worrying.

  Besides … “Lisa are there any other sections of the manual you would recommend?”

  “Yes, Captain.” She replied. “Before consulting it, however, you might wish to consult the ship's manifest. You might find the contents of cargo listing YG284 in Hold C interesting
. In the manual, however, may I suggest Chapter 2724, particularly section 2724-H-8-T-6-r.

  Cargo listing YG284 in Hold C was listed as a crate containing 'servitor robots, advanced'. I frowned. Okay, I knew that liners had dozens of robots to serve the whims of passengers, whether the whim was for another scotch, or a different vid, or a late-night snack, or sex.

  But I wasn't a passenger on vacation. I had years of time ahead of me to fill; and it seemed to me that having robots to do the little jobs that might fill a bit of that time would be foolish. Well, except for the sex bots, of course. Maybe I'd better review that manifest listing again.

  I shook my head. “Send that section of the manual to my office comp. I think I'll review it later.”

  But she'd certainly been telling the truth about the vids, holos, bookfiles and music files. Still, “Y'know, I think I'd better begin with some basic texts on normal-space spacing. It's time I began learning how I'm going to stay alive.”

  Chapter 2

  By the time we entered the target system, we were traveling at 30% of lightspeed, or .3C, and slowing, to avoid overrunning the planet. I was excited. I was very tired of my own company, and even Lisa's. But at least I understood what we were doing and why we were doing it.

  With nearly unlimited time, it's amazing how much you can learn. I'd had two years and two months. I'd learned how the reaction drive works and how to maintain it. I'd learned normal-space navigation. As we'd approached the system and Lisa had confirmed it was Earthlike, I'd begun studying planetary exploration. It turned out that several of the circuits the bosun had damaged were associated with the cold sleep system, which possibly explained why the emergency procedures had failed, and made it even more amazing that I had survived. Lisa helped me repair the damaged circuits, but refused to recommend that we simply use the system to get to Hadley, the nearest inhabited system.