“Star?” I asked.
“Yes, Ms. Holloman?”
“I would like to give Mr. Coleridge a small goodnight kiss. Would you allow that and promise not to tell our Captain or his tech team lead?”
“That would be acceptable, Ms. Holloman, if you promise to keep it small and in light of your imminent separation.”
“Thanks.” I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth before he could object, although I don’t think objecting ever entered his mind.
When I thought Star’s patience had been pushed as far as possible, I let go of him and stepped backwards into my cabin.
“G’night, Sam. See you in the morning.” I slammed my palm against the panel and watched his face as the door slid shut between us. His eyes had looked stunned and happy. I sighed, smiling to myself, and sat down to send another message to Winona.
It felt like she was chasing me. Somewhere between me and Earth, the Moebius was about ten hours away from the first Deep Space Hole. This was Winn’s first trip off planet and her message last night had been full of Winona excitement; precise descriptions of what it was like to ride through space with a fussy ship’s AI, two crew, ten passengers and sixty million kilograms of cargo. It sounded like she was having fun. I missed her.
I tapped record and pretended she was right in front of me. “Hey, Winn. I kissed Sam tonight. That’s all for now. Oh, almost forgot.” I ran my hands up through my hair, shaking my head. “I also cut off most of my hair. See ya in a few days.” I touched send, giggling to myself.
I climbed into bed at about 2300 and a few minutes later reality started to flood back into my mind. I hadn’t seen or felt the Tarakana for days, not since being in the engine room. What had I done? I struggled to remember.
“Merrimac, are you in here with me?”
The strange Tarakana hum filled my head and I knew he was close by. “You don’t need to be afraid, Little Soul.”
“Yes I do. What’s going to happen tonight? I did something… something terrible.”
“Not terrible, wondrous. When the ships come to rescue you, I will go with them and continue outward to the new worlds.”
“Rescue?” Panic filled me. “What did I do?”
“The port aft engine will fail as we transit the small black hole. And then the starboard aft and then the two forward engines.”
“I need to tell Sandy. It’s not too late, please God, it’s not too late.” I threw off my covers and looked at my watch. It read 0205, but that wasn’t possible. It was only a little after 2300 a moment ago.
“Star, what time is it?”
“Ship’s time is 0205. We will be transiting the Deep Space Hole in less than a minute. You should be not be standing.” I looked down at myself. I didn’t remember standing.
“Star–” I fell when the ship lost gravity for a fraction of a second. I was sitting on the floor when the alarm sounded and a harmonic vibration started shaking the deck plates, building then weakening, but growing stronger each cycle until everything in my cabin was clattering.
My helmet rolled past me and the sight brought me back to what I needed to do. I pulled the pants on and sealed the top and then the boots and gloves. The helmet slid easily over my head and I closed the visor and verified air was flowing. I called to Star as I opened my door. “Where’s the rally point?”
There was no answer for almost two seconds, an eternity for a Star-class AI.
“Proceed to the starboard shuttle bay. Run.”
I ran. “What’s happening, Star?”
Again, a long pause. “My port aft engine ruptured during the transit. The fuel that is venting is imparting a high angular velocity. I will try to maintain neutral gravity until all ship’s personnel can evacuate. My starboard aft engine has overheated and may rupture at any time. When it does, gravity control will be lost and the personnel spaces will be subject to between twenty and twenty-six g. Run fast, Mala Dusa.”
I ran fast. Mr. de Sande was there before me, pacing around the shuttle ramp. Tobias came in right behind me. “Where is everyone else?” I asked.
“We need to go right now. Everyone else is on the port shuttle,” I knew Mr. de Sande was lying.
I walked back to the hatch leading into the ship, looking down the passageway. “Star, where’s Sam?” There was no answer.
I felt strong hands grab around my waist and I found myself lying across Mr. de Sande’s shoulder, my view down the passageway disappearing.
“Sam!” I screamed.
“On the way to starboard shuttle. Wait for me.” His voice sounded far away whispering in our helmet speakers.
De Sande dumped me on the shuttle ramp and I glared at him. “Get strapped in, chaplain, and pray that we don’t all die before he gets here.”
I did pray, and my eyes were still closed when I felt the rumble of the ramp closing and heard Sam’s panting as he strapping into the seat next to me.
“MD, are you crying?” he asked gently, opening my visor.
I poked myself in the eye trying to wipe the tears away with my glove. “Not me. Too scared to cry.”
We both looked up at the display panel at the front of the shuttle. It was showing the view behind us of Wandering Star in her death throes. The fixed stars were spinning around us as we were thrown outward from the shuttle bay, our angular momentum making it appear as if Star was spinning faster the farther away we drifted. There was a low rumble as our thrusters fired, stopping us fifty kilometers out. Star’s running lights were on and I could see the sparkle of debris spinning with her and the greenish mist streaming from her side in a long arc. It wasn’t dramatic when her second engine exploded, the lights stayed on and there was more debris and a new stream of escaping fuel, but not much else. An indicator on the bulkhead next to the display chirped and changed to show that control had been transferred to the local shuttle AI.
Tobias was sitting behind us and he whispered, “She died just now, she’s gone.”
I turned around to look at him. “Wandering Star? I felt it too. Is Sandy OK?”
He smiled. “Yes, she’s fine, on the other shuttle, just really angry. She was with Captain Kelang trying to stabilize the other engines, but they made it out in time.”
I leaned back in my chair and looked at Sam. I wanted to cry, but I was too numb. “I killed our ship.”
“No, you didn’t.” Sam’s face was so close to mine that our helmets touched. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”
“It’s not blame, it’s the truth. I killed her. And anyone else that was still on board. I killed them all.” De Sande was sitting across from us scowling like he wanted it to be my fault and would be happy to watch me burn.
Tobias’ hand touched my shoulder. “It’s not your fault, no matter what. No one died; all of them made it to the other shuttle, we know that. Wandering Star was old and the Captain knew there were problems. If it’s anyone’s fault, the blame will be mine and Sandy’s. RuComm will investigate. All of her logs will still be intact even with the engines rupturing like that. It might take them a year, but they’ll find out what went wrong; they always do.”
I shivered and wanted to confess right then, but a haze was filling my brain. Somewhere on the shuttle with us were four Tarakana, whispering to me to stay silent, that everything was going to be fine if I just stayed silent. I looked into Sam’s eyes, straining to stay anchored in reality. He smiled at me, gentle and reassuring. Yes, that was reality, or at least the reality I wanted.
“What happens now?” Sam asked Tobias.
“We wait. Star sent a distress signal and both shuttles are still sending one now. The shuttles carry fuel and supplies to keep us warm and fed for a week, and that’s if we were full. With just the four of us we could go almost two months on short rations. Even with eleven on the other shuttle they should have no problems, and we can al
ways share with them if we have to. We made it to the Bodens Gate side of the Deep Space Hole before the engine failed, so relief should be here in three days, four at the most.”
“We should try to kill some of this spin before the rescue ships get here,” de Sande ordered, because everything he said sounded like an order.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” was the answer from our engineer. “It would take fuel, and fuel is what gives us heat and light and air and everything else. They can match our angular velocity when they get here.”
“You just said we had enough supplies for two months and the rescue ships would be here in three or four says.”
“If everything goes well. I’d recommend keeping all the margin we can.”
“Fine.” De Sande leaned back in his seat. “I hate doing nothing.”
“Sometimes doing nothing and waiting for the right time takes more courage than doing the wrong thing right away,” I answered. Winona had told me that not long after we had first met. It had kept me from punching another student in the face and it always came back into my head whenever I wanted to punch someone. De Sande didn’t respond, not even to glare at me.
Sam had his head turned, smiling at me like I was wonderful and that he was so proud to be with me. Thank you, Winona.
Sam turned back to Mr. de Sande. “Do you think it’s OK to remove our pressure suits now? They aren’t very comfortable.”
“Why not? There’s nothing else to do for the next four days. Keep them close by, though. There’s a lot of debris floating around out here with us.” He released his gloves and removed the top of his suit and Sam and Tobias did the same. Soon all three of them were down to t-shirts, shorts and socks. I hadn’t moved.
“Is there a problem, Ms. Holloman?” de Sande asked.
“When the alarm sounded I jumped straight into my suit. I didn’t have time to…”
He sighed and I heard Tobias chuckle. Sam had the courtesy to look embarrassed for me.
“Then what are you wearing under there?” de Sande demanded.
“Nothing but my watch,” I said softly. I also had a lock of hair tied with a yellow ribbon tucked under the watch band, but I didn’t mention it.
Tobias laughed out loud and even Sam was smiling at me, enjoying this more than he should be. “I can use the printer to make something for myself, at least a t-shirt, right?”
“No,” Tobias answered, still chuckling. “The shuttle printers can make food and drink and basic medical supplies and medications. Not clothing.”
“I guess I could give her my shirt, but it’s kind of sweaty,” Sam suggested. “And she still wouldn’t have any pants.”
“Why bother?” de Sande seemed unsympathetic to my plight. “If she wants to take off the pressure suit, then she can take it off. We can keep the temperature in here warm enough to provide her some level of comfort.”
I turned back to Sam, desperate.
Sam was looking at me, lost in thought. “You know, Tobias, you mentioned medical supplies. How wide of gauze bandages can we print?”
“Fifteen centimeters. That might work,” he answered while Sam grinned at me.
“No. No way am I wrapping fifteen centimeter bandages around me as a shirt and shorts.”
“Could be stylish,” he answered. After staring at me for a moment, I’m sure visualizing me dressed that way, he continued. “Or I can help you stitch them together into something more traditional, like a shirt or a dress. My mom freelances at a custom clothing shop. She taught me the basics about how to make garments. A dress would be easiest. I’ll make you some underthings too.”
I shifted in my seat, afraid to make eye contact with him. “Fine. Let’s make a dress. And some nice gauze underwear to go with it.”
He detached the display from the seat back in front of me and drew on it with his finger. “Maybe something like this?” The design was sleeveless, but actually pretty modest, coming down to his stick figure’s knees and covering her chest almost to the neck. “I can make it more daring if you like.” His finger hovered over the screen and his smile left little doubt that more daring would be his preference.
“Thank you, Sam. That would be fine the way it is. As ‘chaplain’, I have my image to protect.”
“Of course. And what color would Ms. Acting-Chaplain-till-Bodens-Gate like her dress to be?”
“Blue. Can it be blue?”
“I think so.”
Tobias helped us set up the printer and soon it was spooling out gauze while Mr. de Sande complained about using too much raw material, suggesting something far more daring than Sam’s wildest dreams. Well, maybe not his wildest dreams.
“This color is called Danube Blue, if I got the parameters right. It looks close.” Sam picked up the fabric, and freshly printed thread and needles. “You know this is going to take a while, right? Hand stitching a dress like this, I won’t be done until tomorrow sometime.”
I was standing next to him, my hands tucked into the top of the suit trying to keep it from rubbing so much against my bare shoulders. “Are there blankets on board?”
“Just the metallic thermal ones.”
I sighed. “It has to be better than this. I’ll take off the suit top but keep the pants on.”
“OK, here.” He handed me a few pins. “These will help you keep the blanket closed.” He smiled at me and reached up to touch my cheek. “I’ll work as fast as I can, all day today and all though the night.”
“I’ll help you after I change if you’ll show me how.” I walked back to the lavatory with a blanket and handful of pins.
The last thing I heard before the door closed was Mr. de Sande saying to no one in particular, “Stupid girl.”
Sam and I worked all day. I took a couple of breaks to send messages to my parents and to Winona. Tobias and Sandy sent messages back and forth for hours and I enjoyed hearing him chuckling behind me, wondering what Sandy was telling him. Mr. de Sande paced back and forth from the front of the shuttle to the rear, sighing every time he passed us, shaking his head at the blue fabric we were stitching together.
The Recovery Ship Resolute was the first to reply to our distress signal. Tobias told me that she belonged to the Bodens Gate shipyards and was under contract to RuComm for any emergencies that occurred in Bodens Gate’s local space. She reported that she was eighty-two hours out, having gotten underway barely twelve hours after Wandering Star’s engines ruptured. I tried to think of it that way; the engines ruptured, just an accident that occurred, an old machine that suffered an engine failure, not a self-aware, beautiful ship that had cared for me when I was a toddler and sang me to sleep at night, and that I had murdered with a few taps on the control panel.
I looked at Sam and he smiled back at me, calm and reassuring. What would he think of me when he learned the truth? Well, at least I’d be older when he saw me next. I wondered what the jail time would be for sabotaging and destroying a starship. Or maybe it was attempted murder. I could have just as easily killed everyone on board. That’s how I’d be known; not as the brilliant young woman who designed the next generation of starships, but as the stupid little girl who went to jail for the rest of her life because she willfully destroyed one.
It kept me awake that first night while I tried to help Sam. I felt all hollow inside. The magnitude of my crime made me eager for the punishment that I knew would follow when RuComm found out.
At about 0200 I felt Merrimac slide into my mind and I nodded into sleep with a needle still in my hand, dreaming of starships and Tarakana. I felt like I was traveling through all those twisted passageways of thought inside the colony, turning me upside down and inside out. Merrimac did something to me that first night. When I woke to Sam’s kiss on my forehead my feelings of guilt, and both the fear of and desire for punishment, were gone. I still knew the horror of what I’d done, but the sharp edges wer
e worn away. I never thought of confessing it again.
“Everyone else is still asleep. Go try it on. I’ll need to make adjustments with it on you.”
I carried the dress back to the lavatory, it was softer and heavier than I had expected. Stripping off the rest of the pressure suit was an amazing relief. I slipped the dress over my head, wishing I could have taken a shower first. I tried to see myself in the tiny mirror, but it was hopeless.
I stepped back out into the aisle and Sam was staring at me. Or maybe at the dress, because the first thing he did was start pinching at the fabric and sticking pins here and there.
“OK, go take it off again and I’ll make the adjustments,” he whispered.
“No, I’m not putting that other thing back on. Do it with me wearing it,” I whispered back.
“OK, but don’t scream when I poke you.”
I grinned down at him where he had knelt in front of me. I touched his hair. “No promises.”
After about thirty minutes he was done.
“My mom would be ashamed of me,” he said, pulling on the fabric and checking seams. “But it will have to do.”
I twisted my neck around trying to see all of it. “It looks and feels perfect to me.”
“Thanks, MD. I’m going to have some breakfast and then take a short nap. I’ll make you something to wear under it when I wake up.”
I almost told him not to bother, but I wanted to have some matching underwear to go with my new dress, underwear made by Sam out of gauze, underwear hand stitched while we were adrift in a small shuttle waiting for rescue to arrive.
CHAPTER 8
CHOICES
“Did we stop somewhere last night and pick up another passenger?” Tobias asked. He hadn’t noticed me when he had stumbled forward for a cup of coffee, but now on his way back he had stopped at my seat.
I giggled.
“Come on, stand up, let’s see it,” he asked.
I carefully made my way past Sam’s legs out into the aisle, trying not to wake him. I turned around a couple of times while Tobias nodded his approval. “That’s impressive work. There’s more to that boy than just a degree in biology. It’s almost as if he were inspired, to work all night like that and make something so pretty.”
Wandering Soul Page 10
