by JN Chaney
She nodded. “From what I can tell, one happened in an isolated storage area. Looks like a fire broke out in a supply room, but luckily a crew member managed to stop it. No injuries, but it destroyed a fair amount of food.”
“What about the other one?”
“In the mess hall,” she muttered. “The fans and ventilation system shut down for nearly an hour. Several people passed out.”
“How are they?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet. We’ll have to check with Medical. Do you think…do you think someone actually did this?”
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Check the feeds on those locations. See if anyone was present before the cameras went dark.” He paused, briefly. “Go ahead and see where Cain is while you’re at it.”
“You want me to call him?” she asked.
“No, use the com tracker. Once you have him, keep the program running.”
“You think he’s responsible?”
“No, and that’s why I need you to do this. If Cain didn’t do anything wrong, we have to get the evidence to prove it. The last thing we want is a mob of angry personnel trying to lynch my brother.”
Minutes later, Uriel had the feed going. They watched it together, until a figure appeared in the corner, wearing an engineering uniform. It was Cain, carrying a box of tools. He disappeared behind a wall shortly before the feed went black. “Oh, my,” muttered Uriel.
“Let’s see the other one,” said Seth.
“There’s too many people,” said Uriel, once the footage from the mess hall began.
Seth scanned the screen, trying to sort through the dozens of moving crew members before the screen went dark. “Is this the only camera?”
“Yes, unfortunately,” she said.
Dammit, he thought. So far the only suspect he had was Cain. No matter what Seth might think, the evidence was piling up.
“What do we do?” asked Uriel.
“We investigate,” said Seth.
“Are you going to tell Adam?”
“No, he’s got enough to worry about,” said Seth. “We need more evidence, anyway.”
“What’s next?” asked Uriel.
“Go to the meeting,” he said. “If anyone asks where I am, tell them I’m looking into something. No need for specifics.”
“You have something better to do?”
He nodded. “It’s time I talked with my brother. Innocent or guilty, he has questions to answer, and I don’t think they can wait.”
As he left the office, he swallowed hard, his throat painfully dry. The last thing he wanted was to accuse his brother of sabotage or murder, but he needed more. An alibi, a reason. Something.
Anything.
Eight
Adam sat in the conference room with each of the department heads. Today’s events had left him drained. Two incidents at different points aboard the ship, each happening within minutes of one another, with no indication as to the cause. It was like the fates themselves were conspiring against them, determined to wipe out what little remained of the human race.
Uriel had come today instead of Seth, much to Adam’s surprise. Apparently, he was investigating something, though she claimed not to know the details. Adam had little doubt Seth had asked her to keep things quiet in order to compartmentalize the information. He must have a suspect in mind, thought Adam. Perhaps he’ll bring good news.
Chief Codan cleared his throat. “Sir, should I begin?”
Adam nodded. “Go ahead, Chief.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Codan. “As expected, we’re seeing more power fluctuations across the ship. Despite our best efforts to repair the malfunctions, we just don’t have the manpower to cover everything. Even with all my teams working around the clock, there’s bound to be another incident before long.”
“Are there any differences between these two and the one from the population bay?” asked Azura. “You know, aside from them being a fire, an explosion, and a ventilation shutdown.”
Codan shook his head. “Frankly, if they weren’t happening so close to one another, I’d say there was no connection, but…”
“It’s too much of a coincidence,” said Azura.
“Possibly,” said the Chief. “We’ll have to look at each of them in detail before we draw any conclusions. Unfortunately, we’re short staffed.” He paused. “I could use more hands.”
“I wish I could send them to you, but we’re strained as it is,” said Adam.
“What about reallocating some personnel from the Garden?” asked Azura.
Dr. Raphael Preston raised her head. “I believe Garden can spare a few workers, but it won’t be much.”
“How many were you thinking?” asked Adam.
“Maybe three or four,” said Raphael.
“Anything will help,” said Codan.
“Captain, what about the colonists?” asked Azura.
Adam cocked his brow. “What do you mean?”
“Of those ten thousand colonists, I believe two hundred are engineers. We could thaw a few dozen and put them to work.”
Adam considered the idea for a moment. Would it really be wise to wake so many colonists in mid-flight? They didn’t exactly have the long-term resources to sustain a larger population. ““Lilith, is that possible?” asked Adam.
“Waking them prematurely shouldn’t be a problem. The real question is long-term sustainability.”
“Explain,” said Adam.
“There’s no risk to waking the crew. I could activate a dozen, a hundred, even a thousand pods, and most would be fine. A few upset stomachs here and there, but nothing serious. The problem is what comes later. How do you feed them? Clothe them? House them? The Garden’s stocked with vegetables, but not enough to handle twice the current crew. Most of what we have are seeds, meant for our future colony.”
“What about rations? Where are we sitting on those?” asked Adam.
“We have enough to last us another five years, but only with a crew of two hundred. The more people I wake up, the faster those supplies diminish.”
“We don’t have to keep them awake,” said Azura. “Maybe we wake them now and once we’re finished, we put them to sleep again.”
“Not possible,” said Lilith. “Due to the drain cryo-sleep has on the body, it takes at least sixty days before the user can be safely placed back inside a pod. Whoever we choose, we’re stuck with them for a minimum of two months.”
“What if some of the crew volunteered to take their place, once the job was done?” asked Azura.
“If you can find a few volunteers to take a nap in the bays after what happened the other day, go right ahead,” said Lilith.
“Codan, how many engineers would you actually need?” asked Adam.
“A few dozen. Anything more and we’d have organizational problems.”
“How’s that, Lilith? Can we handle a twenty or so new crewmates?” asked Adam.
“If we keep the number low, the impact on rations and supplies should be sustainable. Yes.”
“Good. Can you start the process?” asked Adam.
“Certainly,” said Lilith.
“How long will it take for the engineers to be trained?” he asked.
Codan scratched his beard. “Provided they still remember their schooling, I’d say less than a day or two.”
“On the contrary,” said Lilith. “They may need time to acclimate to the new environment. Roughly thirty percent of people who experience cryo-sleep undergo extreme grogginess and fatigue.”
Adam nodded. “Right. We’ll give them time if they need it, but everyone who feels capable needs to be put to work immediately. The rest can work when they’re ready.”
“Shall I go ahead and start?” asked Lilith.
“Yes, go ahead,” he said. “Unless there’s anything else, you’re all dismissed. Let’s get those engineers to work. Lilith, let me know when it’s done.”
“As always.”
Seth arrived at Cain’s door and knocked three times. When no one answered, he accessed the manual override. To do this, he had to pop open the hatch near concealed within the nearby wall. Every door on the ship had a manual override, including the escape pods, should the electrical systems fail.
Once he had the compartment open, he swiped his security access card. A green light appeared, allowing him to turn the mechanical crank inside. He gripped the handle, pulling it back, sliding the door open, inch-by-inch, until he could fit.
Cain’s quarters were dark, with the only light coming from the crack beneath the bathroom door. Seth could hear the shower running. “Cain?” he called, knocking.
No answer. The water must be too loud for him to hear, thought Seth. He turned on the lights, revealing a mess of tools scattered near the desk, and waited for his brother to finish. He sat on the bed and stared at the floor, still trying to figure out what to say. Would Cain be angry with him for coming here today? Would he feel betrayed? I’m just trying to protect him, thought Seth. He’ll understand.
The door opened, and his brother entered wearing nothing but a towel. Cain jumped when he saw Seth sitting on his bed. “Seth!” he snapped. “What the hell?”
Seth leapt to his feet. “Sorry!” he said. “You weren’t answering the door.”
“So, you barge in?”
“I had to make sure you were safe. The family hasn’t seen you since the explosion, and—”
“I’ve been working nonstop with Engineering. We’ve been swamped.” He grabbed some clothes and went behind the bathroom door. “You could have called first.”
“I know,” said Seth. “I’m sorry about that.”
Cain appeared, fully-dressed. “No, it’s fine. I should’ve messaged you.”
“Thanks, but that’s not the only reason I came by today.”
“Something else wrong?” asked Cain.
Seth wavered. “What do you think happened in the population bay?”
“It was a faulty power relay unit, I heard,” said Cain, shrugging.
“That’s what Engineering thinks, but—”
“You don’t agree with them?” asked Cain, curiously.
“Do you think that’s all there was to it?”
Cain leaned against his dresser. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I’m doing an investigation,” Seth said. “Father asked me to look into the accident.”
“What for? Doesn’t he trust Engineering?”
“I’m sure he does,” said Seth.
“Then why are you involved?”
“Because there are inconsistencies, and we have to explore every possibility.”
“Possibilities? What’s that mean, exactly?”
“Human error,” explained Seth. “I’ve been asking questions, finding out who was working there.”
Cain paused. “I see. So, you’re here because you think I had something to do with it, because it’s my section.”
“I’m not saying you had anything to do with it,” said Seth. “I’m looking into everyone. You aren’t the only one.”
Cain didn’t say anything.
“I’m not saying you’re the one—”
“But you think there’s a chance,” interrupted Cain.
Seth sighed. “You were alone in the area right before the blast.”
Cain scoffed. “I left way before it happened.”
“It’s not just this incident,” said Seth. “You were also present before several other blackouts.”
“Huh?” asked Cain.
“We have you on video. There are at least a dozen instances where you were in one of the affected areas moments before they happened.”
“I’m an engineer!” Cain said, quickly. “I go all over the ship. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t—”
“That’s why I’m here. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on.”
“You’re telling me I’m a suspect in a murder investigation, Seth. Don’t try to soften the punch. I’m not an idiot.”
“All you need to do is tell me where you were when the accident happened. Give me something I can use to defend you. Proof you’re not involved. If you weren’t nearby, where did you go?”
Cain’s eyes darted around the room, frantically. “I…”
“Come on, you have to give me something. Please!”
“You just need to trust me. I’m your brother!”
“I know, but that’s not how this works. I have a duty to the ship.”
Cain rubbed his eyes. “I can’t believe this.”
“Were you with anyone when it happened, Cain? Did anyone see you?”
“I…” His voice grew soft, almost shaking.
“What is it?”
“I can’t say. It’s personal.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Seth.
Suddenly, the screen near Cain’s bed lit up, and a woman appeared before a white backdrop. It was Lilith, and she wore a beautiful golden gown, laced with blue ribbon, and had crimson hair falling to his waist. “He was with me.”
“Lilith?” asked Seth, more than a little surprised.
“It’s true he was working on a job at the time, but I was with him. We talked the entire time. I’d know if he sabotaged the equipment.”
Seth took a second to respond. He hadn’t expected Lilith of all people to corroborate Cain’s story. He didn’t even know they were friends. “What about the incidents today? Were you with him for those, too? We have another recording of you at one of the scenes.”
“Didn’t they happen simultaneously?” asked Cain.
“Yes, but with your tech background…”
“Uh…” Cain glanced at the girl on the monitor, and swallowed.
“It’s fine,” she said. “Tell him.”
“But what if it gets back to people? My father won’t appreciate any of this.”
“It doesn’t matter. Seth won’t tell,” said Lilith, glancing at him. “Right? If Cain has an alibi, you’ll drop it?”
“As long as it exonerates you, there’s no need for me to tell anyone, but why don’t you want people to know about whatever’s going on?”
“I was with her,” said Cain, nodding to the screen.
Seth glanced at Lilith. “With her? What do you mean?”
Lilith nodded. “Spending time together. We’re friends.”
“What were you doing together?” asked Seth.
“Does it matter? All you need to know is that we were together,” said Lilith.
“Right, but—”
“We’re friends,” she repeated. “Just leave it at that, okay?”
He glanced back at his brother. “Friends?”
“Yeah,” said Cain, nodding.
“Alright…and I can’t tell the captain about this, because…why, exactly?”
“Adam and I have a complicated history. He might not approve of me spending so much time with his son,” said the woman on the monitor.
“You went to the academy together, right? Was there more to the story?”
“We used to be more than friends,” she admitted.
Seth paused. “Oh.”
“It wasn’t anything serious, but he might not like the thought of us getting close.”
“Fine,” said Seth. “Whatever. I’ll just say you were with a friend. Good enough?”
“Thank you,” said Lilith.
“Any more questions?” asked Cain.
Seth hesitated, but decided not to press it. “No, I think we’re done for tonight. If anything else comes up, I’ll let you know.”
“Can you call next time?” Cain asked. “I could do without any more surprises.”
Nine
Seth sat in his office, tapping the side of his desk, trying to figure out what his next move. After talking with Cain last night, he’d spent the evening debating his next move. He’d hoped for an epiphany thi
s morning, but nothing came. No revelation or brilliant idea. No new evidence. No other leads. Nothing.
If only Uriel weren’t on the bridge, he thought. I could use someone to talk to. Maybe he’d call her later and ask for some advice. Then again, she might be too busy helping his father with the mission, and he didn’t want to cause a problem. Preparing the Eden for the next phase of the plan was vital.
But so was this, he knew. If he didn’t find the one responsible, more people might die. If the wrong part of the ship got hit, the last of humanity would cease to exist.
All of them destroyed. The end.
He folded his arms and placed his head on them, sighing. Maybe he was overreacting. The entire thing could simply be a series of accidents, just like they kept telling him. He might be completely wrong about everything.
His communicator beeped. He touched the screen, and was surprised to see his brother Abel appear. “Seth, where are you?”
“In my office. Why?”
“I went by your room looking for you. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll come to you.”
“You’re stopping by Security?” asked Seth.
“Yeah. Wait for me,” he said, before cutting out.
“Great,” muttered Seth. “Another distraction.”
A few minutes later, Abel arrived with a hurried look on his face. “We need to talk,” he said, quickly taking a seat across from Seth’s desk.
“About what?”
“We had another blackout.”
“When? Today?” asked Seth.
“Less than an hour ago.”
Seth turned the computer on and checked the logs. Sure enough, a report from section thirteen.
“Hey, are you listening to me?” asked Abel.
“Yeah, I am,” said Seth. “Doesn’t look like anyone was hurt.”
“No, they didn’t. No disasters this time, but who knows when the next will be? That’s why I’m here, Seth. I need to know what you’re doing.”
“What I’m doing?” he asked.
“I know you’re talking to people. Have you got anything? The engineers already swept section thirteen, so they’re stumped. No one understands it.” Abel leaned forward. “It has to be sabotage.”
