"I'm sorry, I think part of the ship blew up," Mittens told newly-appointed captain Buttercup.
"Which part?"
"The part with all the people, sir."
***********************************************************
Sweet Pea took on the role as the head of security, porter, and complaint receiver (he spent most of his time on the last two). The colonists always understood close quarters, but not as close as they faced on the ship. Several dozen would have to make due on the cargo hold, and as Sweet Pea had to explain many times, they had to share the place with plants and potting soil.
He was explaining to a woman with bad vision and webbed hands that she needed to water the plants above her bunk once a day when the main cargo hold tore open. People, plants, and water ripped out into the vacuum of space. They became the victims of the biggest fear the colonists had. Sweet Pea was the first and last person to cling on and pull himself through a door, shutting it after five seconds of struggle.
Half the colony was lost along with most of the food and water they managed to smuggle.
Others had to scramble into the safest part of the ship, which was near the bridge, all while Waffles sealed off anything that might be dangerous. The screams settled some minutes later. The head engineer returned to the bridge.
"Waffles! How long until we reach our destination?" Buttercup shouted at his navigator and head engineer, although he really didn't need to. The ship's bridge was little more than a metal closet with windows and buttons. They managed to fit in five stations, sacrificing privacy and the luxury of full breaths of air.
"According to my calculations, seven years," Waffles said, "We've only been gone a few days."
They counted the remaining people.
Buttercup was dejected. Maybe he should have tried to pass off the colony's problems. Surely the next village leader would be more competent. Buttercup sulked in his captain's seat, Patches thought of the dead peoples' faces and cried softly.
***********************************************************
The ship limped along. Morale was low. They recycled every bit of water; most complained about the urine taste. They began to grow their own food as well. The fertilizer taste was equally sickening.
Captain Buttercup spent most of his time in his seat on the bridge. He now sported a beard and bloodshot eyes. He made a habit of facing his miserable crew at least once a day. He owed them that much.
The corridor leading out from the bridge reeked. Six separate doors led to some decent-sized living spaces. They were the best quarters on the ship, reserved for the people serving on the bridge and their families. They had become suffocated with survivors. The corridor was housing several dozen people. Some were crying. Most were trying to get comfortable on the thin sheet of polyester separating them from the icy, metal floor.
They looked accusingly at their leader.
Buttercup stepped over several of his followers and turned into one of the quarters. The Phillip family had been given one bed in one compartment. Like back on the planet, they were sharing it with the Johnsons and some other elders who needed the additional comfort of a carpet.
The captain hoped to find his helmsman, Mittens, ready to help out his former teacher, but the overworked 8-year-old was lying unconscious on the bed, streaks of tears cutting through the soot on his face. His parents looked ready to attack. Buttercup decided to leave.
Buttercup wasn't the sole target of the crew's frustration, not even the principal target. That honor went to Waffles.
Had he falsely assured them all that the ship was space-worthy? Even the elderly scientist wasn't sure. The worst of the accusations said he was a mad-man, near death already and therefore willing to risk the entire colony to satisfy his dreams of adventure. Many wanted him punished, but as far as Buttercup could see, the old man was castigating himself more than enough.
Buttercup walked into the hazard zone that constituted the engineering section. Waffles sat near a viewscreen stuck in a continuous loop, pressing the same combination of buttons over and over. Eyes glazed.
Buttercup pulled up a somewhat level piece of metal debris to the back wall and sat down. Kiwi was there too physically, at least. He sat on the ground staring at the wall, trying to be alone with his thoughts.
"Hey Kiwi, can we have some privacy," Buttercup requested.
The man left, not even making brief eye-contact before hastening away. Buttercup saw his engineer only using one hand to type in numbers, with the other, he stroked a spacesuit lying on the ground.
"I didn't know you went out there again," Buttercup said, half-ready to reprimand the old man for not informing the bridge of a space-walk. "Was it easier this time?" He asked referring to an earlier incident where arthritis, disorientation and panic nearly led to Waffles losing his life.
"I finished what I needed to."
"All right. I need answers."
Waffles looked up from his console. "It looks like you were right about the water," he said, "We should have filled the tanks completely. Now no one will get to shower for seven years. Imagine that."
"What's the condition of the cargo bay? Can we re-pressurize it, yet?"
"That's what I was just investigating."
"And?"
"Not yet. The gash is huge. We'll have to form repair crews, but since there's only so many space suits, so many tools, and so much scrap metal, patching the hole will take at least a month. And I can't guarantee it will work."
The cargo bay was essential. It housed people, but more importantly it housed crops. Using every square inch, Waffles and Patches had calculated that they could just get by calorie-wise.
"I was thinking of making some of the scraps into pots for more plants. Would that interfere with the repairs?"
Waffles lowered his glasses and thoroughly looked over the captain. It looked like a quick medical exam, but the old man was really just checking to see if he was serious.
"Not everything can be used to patch holes, you can use the plastic parts for pots. I don't know if it will keep us fed, but it will keep everyone busy."
"Could we use soil from the depressurized cargo hold?"
Waffles thought about this for a second.
"According to my studies, the soil in there should be irradiated and frozen by this point."
"Does that mean we can't use it?"
"I have no idea."
There was a brief silence, before they both burst into laughter.
"You remember back when we were rebuilding the game complex, and I asked you if we had any real rock? You said 'no.' That was a lie wasn't it? That cave was full of rocks, good stuff too, limestone, granite," Buttercup said.
"Yeah it was a lie, but I pointed out some rather firm clay, and Ms. Halo got us what she could afford. I had to lie to you many times, and I am sorry. I hope you're not angry."
"Not angry, jealous. It just feels like everyone had some great secret except for me, especially on the council. I mean Cuddles and Patches had the house, you had the cave."
"What about Sweet Pea?"
"He had his delusions; he thought they were secret."
"You know, Elder Twinkles knew about the cave too. He taught me about it and the ship. And we had a conversation about this very subject. He told me that I would be on the council, but that I couldn't ever lead it.”
"Because no one respects a leader with space lice?"
"You know," Waffles said, "I made that up too so people wouldn't bother me. You know how the ladies can be. No, he said I couldn't lead the council because I had a secret. That ship and cave, it was a hindrance, and whenever I spoke on big matters, I would never be able to be completely honest. You, on the other hand, were the obvious choice. You could concentrate on the most important thing for the leader - the colony."
"People just listen to me, which clearly isn't always a good thing."
"They listen to you because they know deep down that you'r
e honest. And you are also very close to everyone. At least, you were."
An idea hit Waffles.
"You know, we might die. But we might live too, and in either case, there's no reason to be so negative about it all," Waffles said. They both smiled. "I have a list here of everyone who died in the explosion and the inter-ship communication still works. Why don't you do a proper funeral for them. We'll cry. We'll talk. And we'll be done with it. Then we work, and we do it under the belief that we're going to find a way to make all this work. You know, happily making pots, soldering metal to giant holes in the ship, stuff that's exciting. Crazy things we'd dream of doing if we were still stuck on the planet."
Buttercup was half-convinced Waffles had lost his mind, but he appreciated the enthusiasm. He even started to think that optimistic insanity was exactly what they needed. "Let me see that list."
He looked over it. "We can make sure they'll be remembered."
Buttercup returned to the bridge. Over the communication system, he read the names of everyone who perished in the explosion. He spoke about each and invited others to speak about them.
For half a day, the despair and fear the colony collectively felt was worked out through fits of crying, hugs, and screams. It was the longest funeral any of them had ever experienced, and by the end, it was also the happiest. They realized that they were alive, and that hadn't been the case before.
Then the work. It was slow, but they handled it better than construction, even without enough food. Cuddles and Patches made sure that no one faced boredom, and that was a chore by itself.
The captain was finally starting to feel something close to happiness when the colony's fate suddenly changed again.
He stood up, hitting his head on the ceiling.
"What is that?"
A spacecraft appeared above them. It was Ms. Halo, driven by Squid in a spaceship the size of an Olympic Stadium and the style of a 1980's Toyota minivan.
A bottom hatch opened and inhaled the human craft.
"How did she find us?" Buttercup demanded.
"It was me," Patches confessed, "I learned how to call her a long time ago."
"Traitor!" Buttercup yelled, "Sweet Pea, take Patches to whatever we're currently using as a prison."
Patches refused the escort and submitted to the order on her own.
Without anywhere to go, and realizing that this would be his only chance to air out the ship, the captain opened the back hatch after the ship landed on Ms. Halo's bay. The colony sullenly exited one-by-one. Buttercup stood in the front of the crowd as Grandma walked up to them using a new stroller.
The captain was prepared to take responsibility and accept the punishment, but all he received was a hug from a teary three-eyed alien.
"I was so worried," she said, "I'm so sorry that this happened."
"..."
"Why did you run away sweetie? You know I love you all."
Buttercup was about to explain that he knew the colony was too much of a burden for her, that they feared the day when she wouldn't be there, and they hoped to better their lot. He wanted to confess the colony's love and appreciation and how hard it was to leave. But before he got a chance, there was a thunderous boom.
A bullet pierced Ms. Halo's head. She fell to the floor.
Kiwi stood silently holding a gun. "I don't deserve this Grandma! I don't."
The gun was good for making a point, but not enough to dissuade the colonists from tackling Kiwi and pinning him to the ground.
"No!" Patches screamed, watching from the window of the human ship's laundry room.
But it was a little overly dramatic.
"Oh my..." Ms. Halo said while getting up. The bullet in the alien's brain didn't stay there long. It was now on the floor, and the wound had healed. "Oh dear..." she said while refusing help from Buttercup. She walked out of the compartment. "Oh heavens."
***********************************************************
"I told you mom," Squid said, "feral humans can't become domesticated, it doesn't matter how long you keep them." Squid had been watching the entire episode play out from a room above the ship bay. "Will you please put them down now? Do it because you love them - look how much they would suffer in the wild," he said.
Ms. Halo sat, silent.
"Animals like that only understand basic social structures. They look cute in the videos, but that doesn't mean they're not wild animals," Squid said.
"I still couldn't stand to put them down."
"I’ll do it mom," Squid said crouching beside his mother.
"Don't hurt them!"
"I won't. I'll just lead them into the other ship bay and release some gas. It will be just like falling asleep."
"Oh, it's just so terrible," Grandma said while hugging her son.
"I know it is, I know."
***********************************************************
The colonists were having a less touching moment. They were trying to figure out what to do with a silent, smiling Kiwi.
"We don't have time for this! Grandma's snotty son will be coming." Sweet Pea shouted. "It's no longer a choice - it's them or us. There are more guns in the spaceship. Let's arm ourselves."
"The guns don't seem particularly effective," Cuddles said, frustrated.
"We need to apologize," an anonymous voice from the crowd shouted, receiving murmurs of support.
"No, Sweet Pea is right. We need to prepare ourselves," Buttercup announced while he swiped the rifle from Kiwi's grip "You'll pay for this, but later."
After gathering a few more weapons, a fire erupted from the corner of the bay.
"Come on, we have to move," Buttercup shouted, ushering people to the nearest open exit.
"Patches!" Cuddles yelled running the opposite direction.
"There's no time," Buttercup said as he left the bay. She didn't seem to hear. The bay doors closed, and the captain concluded that there were two fewer members of his crew.
***********************************************************
By the time, Cuddles busted the lock off of the make-shift laundry room/prison the flames had filled the bay and were encroaching on every square inch of the human craft.
Cuddles slammed the door shut, hoping to gain a few extra seconds. She embraced her weeping lover, and they kissed.
"You shouldn't be here," Patches complained, "This is all my fault."
"Are you still talking about that?" Cuddles replied, "Everyone is so over that sweetie."
"Did the rest make it out?"
"Shh... Let's not talk about those assholes for once. This is all that matters."
They continued to hold each other tight, coughing as the room filled with holographic smoke and passing out from the psychological effects of too little skepticism.
Squid, whose internal bay cameras could see everywhere, said with all the passion of an accountant buttering a bagel, "huh."
***********************************************************
The rest of the crew were having more luck.
Despite the surprisingly slow speed of 87 people tripping over each other in a mad dash, they had managed to traverse one mile of metallic hallways with no resistance except the old furniture they kept crashing into. They had almost reached a huge, unused room when a barrier erected in front of them.
"We're trapped!" Sweet Pea yelled as some humans ran face-first into the invisible barrier.
"Back here!" Fluffy Phillip yelled several hundred meters behind, "Waffles got another door open."
Fluffy took on the responsibility of carrying the colony's oldest council member and now had a front row seat while the genius worked his magic on the alien ship's door controls.
Inside was Squid's vessel, a sporty circular model that was a tad bigger than the human-made craft and with all the options fitting an alien VIP. The same tricks Waffles used on Grandma's ship's doors worked for the sports spaceship.
The coloni
sts spread out into every compartment as the colony's leaders took over their new spacious bridge.
"Can you open the hangar?" Buttercup yelled frantically.
"Already done," Waffles said. Outside the main window was just space.
Mittens fumbled at the helm controls, but managed to evade burst after burst of laser fire from Ms. Halo's vessel.
"Waffles! Get us out of here."
Using every bit of knowledge he obtained from a lifetime of study, Waffles enjoyed the proudest moment of his life. He calculated the ship's course and speed to Alpha Centauri, input the data, and yelled to the young helmsman "Go."
The ship disappeared.
Of course, Waffles didn't actually make the intricate calculations needed for instantaneous space travel. Likewise, he didn't really open the doors or get the ship out of the bay. But he didn't need to know that.
***********************************************************
"Hey Mom," Squid said, "I have a surprise for you."
He entered the bedroom with a hover-cart following close behind. Ms. Halo smiled for the first time in a week when she saw Cuddles and Patches in a deep embrace, unconscious on the bed.
"You saved them!" She said, inspecting her favorite pets. "But the rest? Is it, over?"
"I couldn't go through with it, I can see why you love them." Squid explained, "I let them borrow my ship. Its autopilot is set for Alpha Centauri. That seemed to be their destination, I think. And that's right next to where humans originally come from. Practically their natural environment."
"Your ship? Oh, that's so much trouble. The fuel cost alone will be huge, and they'll probably ruin the interior upholstery."
"I know," Squid said, even though he hadn't considered his upholstery.
"How will you get your ship back?"
"I'll summon it when they're not looking. And in the meantime, you can keep your two favorites. I promise these won't breed."
Ms. Halo Page 5
