Ride The Rising Tide (The Maxwell Saga) (8 page)

She led him into a small but well–equipped laboratory. Unscrewing the lid from the jar, she emptied it into a test tube, then plugged the tube into a receptacle on a machine Steve didn’t recognize. Its face was covered with dials and displays. She pressed a button, and they watched as the tube was drawn into the unit. Silence fell as they waited.

Suddenly a jarring, urgent, repetitive buzz sounded, again and again. A red light began to flash in the same rhythm on the display panel.

Her face went white with shock. “That stuff’s
toxic!”

“
What do you mean?”

She pressed a button, silencing the alarm. “The analyzer’s detected something that can cause serious health problems. I don’t know exactly what it is, but Doctor Cellini needs to be told right away — and I want you in our isolation ward
right now!
I don’t want you going anywhere until we find out how badly you’ve been contaminated.”

~ ~ ~

He heard the rapid click–clack of Senior Lieutenant Cellini’s shoes coming down the corridor, accompanied by a slower, heavier tread. She bustled into the isolation ward, followed by Lieutenant–Commander Wollaston. Steve jumped up from his chair and snapped to attention as he saw his boss.

Wollaston stiffened to attention to acknowledge his gesture of respect. “Thank you, Spacer. As you were.” He held out his hand. “I wanted to thank you personally for your attention to detail this morning. If you’d just cleaned up that lifeboat, no one would have thought twice about it; but those mold spores have already spread throughout the ship through our environmental systems. We’d have passed them to every ship and space station with whom we had contact, until someone realized what was going on. Your thoroughness has spared this Sector an enormous headache, and averted a potentially very serious risk to our health. We’ve all breathed in that stuff by now, but Senior Lieutenant Cellini says we’ve caught it early enough to stop it developing into a major problem.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Steve wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such unexpected praise, but he shook the proffered hand firmly.

“
You saved us no end of trouble, Spacer,” the doctor informed him. “As soon as I saw the analysis results, I contacted the Operations Center to check whether any of our small craft were out, or whether any others were heading for us. One of our cutters had just left for the Cargo Terminal, and a shuttle was on its way to us from the dockyard. Thanks to you, we were able to get them both turned around before any of our small craft or personnel had contact with any others. The ship’s in quarantine until we figure out what to do about this mess.”

“
Sounds like that mold is really nasty, Ma’am.”

“
It certainly looks that way. You test positive for it already, of course, but you were exposed to a much higher concentration than the rest of us when you stuck your head inside that duct, and scraped off that sample. We’ll all test positive within a couple of days. Fortunately, nanotechnology lets us tailor medications to specific conditions. I’ve already transmitted an analysis of the spores to the Sector Hospital. They’ll make up a nano–enhanced treatment in their labs and float it across to us from a cutter — we can’t have anyone come into direct contact with us, of course. We’ll administer it to everyone on board.”

“
But won’t we be reinfected with every breath we take, Ma’am?”

“
Yes, we will, but the medication will keep it under control until higher authority decides what to do next. They’ll have to find a way to to get us off this ship and into an uncontaminated environment. Once we’re no longer being reinfected with new mold spores, the medication will deal with what’s already in our bodies. The biggest problem will be decontaminating
Hebe
. Our environmental systems have already spread the spores to every compartment. How do you clean a virulent mold out of every nook and cranny of a half–million–ton spaceship? I don’t know if it’s even possible.”

Lieutenant–Commander Wollaston shrugged. “That’s why we place so much emphasis on our environmental systems — to stop that sort of problem before it starts. This time, unfortunately, it beat us to the punch. The Sector Admiral will have to decide what to do next.”

Cellini added, “There’s no point in keeping you in isolation, Spacer, because we’ve all been exposed already. You can return to your duty station.”

“
Aye aye, Ma’am. Thank you.”

~ ~ ~

Petty Officer Garza was waiting for him when he entered the docking bay. He pulled him to one side.

“
Thanks for not telling them about me being an asshole,” the NCO said, after looking around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “I should have listened to you about that crud. It’s only because you took a sample that we found out what it was. They’d have had my guts for garters if they learned I’d told you to piss off, instead of helping you.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably. “Aw, hell, PO! Any of us might have made the same mistake. We all get overworked sometimes, and tired, and ratty, and fed up. When someone comes along with something that seems so minor… it happens, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but it
shouldn’t
have happened. Thanks for not telling ’em I screwed up. I owe you. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, just say the word.”

“
I will. Thanks, PO.”

~ ~ ~

Lieutenant–Commander Wollaston came out to address the assembled pilots and other small craft crew members during the morning briefing two days later. They broke formation and gathered round to listen.

“
The Sector Engineering Staff are… well, they’re not exactly pleased with us, because we just tossed into their laps one of the hottest potatoes they’ve ever had to handle!” Laughter. “That doesn’t mean they’re not grateful to us for detecting the problem so quickly. They’ve got twelve more of those refurbished lifeboats in orbital storage, waiting to be installed on the other three ships of Transport Division Nineteen. After Commander Komenos’ emergency message, they sent in robotic samplers to check them. They’re all contaminated with the same mold spores we found. It looks as if the problem must have originated at the facility where they were refurbished. That’s the only place it could have infiltrated all their ventilation systems before they were sealed.”

Garza shook his head in dismay. “That’s going to be a headache for the Fleet, Sir.”

“That’s putting it mildly! Every Sector has a division of four
Goddess
class transports, and there are more rotating through shallow or deep maintenance, or in reserve. We were the first division to receive the refurbished lifeboats, and
Hebe
was the first ship, so hopefully no others have been affected yet. Something’s going to have to be done in a hurry to keep the time–expired lifeboats in service until uncontaminated replacements can be provided.

“
To make matters even more interesting, the Fleet Hospital thinks they’ve identified the mold. It appears to be a particularly nasty mycotoxin first encountered on Tartarus, a planet in the Cassius sector five hundred light years from Lancaster. Yes, Spacer Maxwell?”

Steve had raised his hand. “But, Sir, how did it get from there to the lifeboat refurbishment facility in the Lancaster system without infecting anything or anyone else? How could it survive and thrive in such a different environment?”

The Lieutenant–Commander frowned. “Rest assured, those questions are being asked right now! The Sector Admiral’s dispatched a communications frigate to Fleet HQ on Lancaster with a flash emergency message about the problem. The Board of Admiralty is sure to ask some very pointed questions about why the refurbishment facility, and the Fleet inspectors assigned to it, didn’t detect the problem themselves. It’s going to be a
huge
kerfuffle!”

He looked around his audience. “A single contamination incident like this can spread like wildfire if it isn’t contained. Just imagine the consequences if we’d transferred supplies to other ships before the mold was detected! Every vessel that received anything from us would be affected. If it subsequently had physical contact with other ships, all of them would also be affected. Even if they didn’t show any signs of the mold, they’d have to be considered suspect. We wouldn’t dare assume they were clean. The risks involved would be astronomical!

“Worse still, what if we’d sent contaminated cargo to the Cargo Terminal? Heaven knows how many vessels might have picked up the mold from there, and how many more places they’d have visited — and contaminated — by the time they discovered it. And what about planets? If this mold had spread down an Elevator, or gone down aboard a cutter or cargo shuttle, to a planetary ecosystem that had no resistance against it… it just doesn’t bear thinking about!”

He glanced at Steve. “By the way, Spacer Maxwell, you’re in very good standing with the powers that be. Your attention to detail in getting that stuff checked right away is the only thing that stopped us spreading the contamination to all and sundry.”

“Er… thank you, Sir,” Steve acknowledged, a little embarrassed to be singled out for praise in front of the others.

A spacer raised his hand. “How are they going to get us out of this mess, Sir? I don’t want to spend the rest of my career — let alone my life — stuck in orbit around Vesta!” There were nervous chuckles from a few of the others.

Wollaston shook his head. “You won’t. They’re converting a cargo shuttle into a makeshift isolation ward. It won’t be very comfortable, but we hope we’ll only be aboard for a couple of weeks. We’ll board through our docking bay airlock, and be decontaminated before entering the shuttle. It’ll then separate from
Hebe
and go into a parking orbit while we’re treated with the nanotech medication they’ve developed to deal with this fungus. We won’t be allowed to leave until we and the shuttle all test clean for five successive days. A medical crew will be on board with us, of course, and the shuttle’s crew as well. When we’ve finally been given a clean bill of health, we’ll disembark at the Cargo Terminal for transfer to the planet.”

“
What about our kit and personal possessions, Sir?” Garza asked.

“
You’ve lost ’em, PO. We all have. The word from Sector HQ is that they plan to drop
Hebe
into Vesta’s star, along with everything aboard her, plus the remaining lifeboats waiting to be installed in the other ships of our division. They’ll have to get approval from Fleet HQ, of course, because they want to destroy a ship, equipment and cargo worth at least a couple of billion credits; but it’s the only way they can think of to prevent this contamination from spreading. They’ll leave
Hebe
in her present orbit, in quarantine, until permission to destroy her is received. We’ll get a full kit issue at Fleet expense to replace what we’ve lost, plus monetary compensation for our personal possessions. We’ll have to inventory them and provide photographic evidence of what we own, of course. We’ll transmit that electronically before we leave the ship.”

There was a stunned silence for a moment. Another pilot eventually asked, “But, Sir, what about items of sentimental value? I’ve got pictures my kids drew, an original medal and its citation — things that are important to me.”

“You’ve lost ’em, PO,” the Engineer Officer said again. “That’s why the Fleet warns us never to bring original or important items aboard a ship that can be lost to accident or enemy action. There are Depository facilities at every Sector base to let us store those things safely. You’ll have to transmit electronic copies to Sector HQ, and download them when we get out of quarantine. You can apply for a duplicate of the medal and citation, but your kids will just have to draw you some more pictures.”

As the group dispersed, Garza asked Steve, “You going to lose anything special when we leave everything behind?”

“No, PO. Almost three years ago, when I was still a merchant spacer, my ship was taken by pirates. She was recaptured by Fleet personnel and declared a prize, so I lost a lot of my gear. I learned from that. All my important belongings and valuables are in the Fleet Depository. I even got a duplicate of my medal, so I could store the original safely.”

“
Good idea.” Garza nodded towards the pilot who’d asked about personal possessions. “I guess buddy–boy there hadn’t taken the warnings seriously. Well, he’ll just have to suck it up. The Fleet’ll never allow us to take anything along that might spread contamination. They’re sure to send us through the airlock butt–naked. You can’t hide much between the cheeks of your ass!”

“
Don’t speak too soon, PO. They may decide to shove a probe up there to make sure.”

Garza winced. “Cheerful bugger, aren’t you?”

Chuckling, they headed for their duty stations.

~ ~ ~

Senior Lieutenant Cellini poked her head out from behind the white plastic curtains that provided a measure of privacy to those undressing at the airlock. “Next!”

“
That’s you, Spacer Maxwell,” Senior Chief Petty Officer Andrus drawled. She was the Chief of the Ship, the most senior non–commissioned officer aboard, and had taken charge of the long, slow process of shepherding
Hebe
’s crew into the cargo–shuttle–turned–isolation–ward.