T'aafhal Legacy 1: Ghosts of Orion (39 page)

“All right, Hitch, poke the first one through the cargo door.” 

Steve Hitch was outside the ship, piloting a space tug—really nothing more than a heavy push plate with surrounding grapples and a cluster of repulsors to move it about. The tug didn't even have a cabin; Hitch was wearing regular space armor, as was Matt Jacobs in the second tug.

“Pushing her in now, Chief,” the petty officer replied. Aside from causing trouble and annoying the Marines, Hitch and Jacobs were both qualified to operate most of the small craft on board the Peggy Sue. They could even fly the Captain's pinnace in a pinch, not that the Captain would let them.

The Peggy Sue had been modified to incorporated the T'aafhal's magic permeable hatch material, like that installed over the docks on Farside. Though the starboard cargo door had not been physically opened, it was possible for solid objects to pass through the seemingly intact hull. Of course, the permeability was controllable and had to be switched on, otherwise people and things could accidentally fall overboard into the vacuum of space.

There was another complication, however. An object passing into the ship had an atmosphere on one side and vacuum on the other. The pressure of the air in the ship, though it could not escape through the barrier, still exerted force on the object. An object that stopped part of the way through the barrier would pop back out into space if not held in position by an opposing force. Getting that force right using the tug was Steve Hitch's job.

As the roughly spherical escape pod passed into the ship the force trying to expel it reach its peak half way in. The sailor expertly adjusted the amount of force generated by the tug's repulsors until equilibrium was reached, and the pod was sticking half way through the door.

“All right, hold it right there, Hitch,” yelled the grizzled old Chief. They were linked by their suit radios so yelling was not required. Still, habits learned during decades spent on ships at sea died hard.

“Gotcha, Chief,” Hitch answered.

The Chief gave the visible portion of the pod the eye. He was not alone. Peggy Sue's computer also examined the pod from all possible angles and at great magnification. Satisfied that there was no contamination on the pod's surface, the ship spoke to the Chief.

“It appears to be clean, Chief Zackly.”

“Great.” The Chief was not one to hold long conversations with equipment, even a starship.

Leaning in closely, the Chief peered through the transparent viewing port in the middle of the pod's circular hatch. Inside, peering back, were a couple of disheveled crewmen from the Fortune. The Chief snorted.

“All right, yous. Let's get these shipwrecked sailors out of the lifeboat and onto the deck.”

An engineer, also suited up, stepped up to the pod and fiddled with the control panel next to the hatch. With a hiss of escaping gas the hatch swung upward, and the passengers tumbled out onto the deck. They quickly scrambled to their feet and found themselves staring at a small man in space armor.

“That all of ya?”

“Uh, yeah. Who are you?”

“I'm Master Chief Zackly, the chief of this ship, you knuckle head. I'll ask the questions here.”

Both sailors swallowed hard.

“Hitch, get this piece of garbage off my deck.”

The open escape pod quickly melted back through the cargo door as though it never existed. The Chief looked the refuges up and down with a critical eye.

“Sound off! Name and rank. You first, Chatty Cathy.”

“Raoul Mendez, ship's navigator,” the man said.

“Not anymore.” Zackly shifted his gaze to the second man. “And you?” 

“Ethan Jones, Sir. Able Spacer.” 

“Do not sir me, sonny, I work for a living.” 

Jones stared at the cargo hold wall, eyes focused on a spot two feet above the Chief's head, doing his best to remember how to stand at attention.

“All right, Sheffield! Get these two sorry sailors outta here. Take 'em to the showers and get 'em new jumpsuits.” 

“Aye, aye, Chief,” Lou replied, motioning for the still disoriented survivors to follow him forward. 

“Jacobs! Push the other piece of jetsam into the hold.” 

“Aye, Chief,” Matt replied from outside the ship. In less than a minute another escape pod appeared, as though it was being extruded through the solid cargo bay door. As with the first pod it stopped halfway in. The inspection sequence and door opening was repeated, only this time the passengers did not tumble out onto the deck. From inside the spherical pod a voice called out. 

“Permission to come aboard, Sir?” 

“Permission granted. You may come aboard.” the Chief replied with a crooked smile. 

Leon ushered his two charges out the hatch and lined them up facing the Chief before joining them in line himself. He saluted the Chief and spoke.

“Petty Officer Second Class Leon Delaney, late of the ESS Fortune, reporting with a party of two ex-colonists,” then, catching the rank insignia on the Chief's armor, added, “Chief.” 

The Chief returned his salute before addressing the man.

“I ain't really the OOD, but then this ain't a normal way to come aboard. I do appreciate yer upholding Navy tradition though. Welcome aboard, Mr. Delaney.”

“Thank you, Chief.”

“And who are these two?”

“Malachi and Hezekiah, two colonists from the late Brother Abraham's congregation.”

The parties mentioned smiled meekly at the Chief but did not speak.

“Just what I need, a couple of Bible thumpers who don't know a sheet from a halyard. Well, take 'em forward for showers and a change of clothes, this one looks like he pissed himself. The Captain will sort them all out.”

“Aye, aye, thank you Chief.”

Outside the ship, Matt Jacobs gave the second pod a final push, setting it drifting away from the ship. His partner Steve Hitch had already disposed of the first pod in a similar fashion. Pulling close enough to Matt's tug to talk on suit-to-suit, Hitch spoke.

“What was the Chief talking about? To my knowledge we ain't never had a sheet or a halyard on the Peggy Sue.”

“I believe the Chief was speaking metaphorically, Stevie. We need to talk to this Leon guy, it sounds like he may know his ass from a hole in the ground.”

“Right.”

Pinnace Two

Frank finished putting Shuttle B on a course that would eventually spiral into the red star at the center of the system. He hated to see the end of the shuttle, she had been a good ship. But the Peggy Sue's Captain wanted nothing left floating around this star system that might harbor remnants of the black contagion. 

“Adios, old girl,” he said, locking the controls and moving aft to the airlock. 

Depressurizing the compartment between the flight deck and the cargo hold, the pilot peered out the small transparent porthole on the crew entrance door. There, hanging in space next to his soon to be former command was another, much smaller shuttle.

The smaller craft was Peggy Sue's second pinnace, a small boat used to transfer crew between ships in space or to and from a planet's surface. A side hatch was open and a figure in a space suit could be seen waving. Frank stepped back and opened the door.

The pilot was at ease flying a shuttle, landing on a planet or docking with a starship, but stepping out into inky black nothingness gave him the willies. He took a deep breath and carefully launched himself in the direction of the pinnace.

The float over seem to take forever, though less than a minute elapsed between leap and arrival. His aim was good, coming close enough for the man in the side hatch to lean out and clasp hands. Pulling the last refugee from the Fortune inside, the crewman secured the hatch and started repressurizing the small shuttle.

The man spoke to him over suit-to-suit comm.

“All right, mate. You're safe and sound now.” The man's accent was Australian. He called out to the pilot. “Mr. Lewis. It's grouse, the bloke is on board.”

“Roger that, Jay. We're headed for home.” 

Outside the pinnace's panoramic windows the stars pinwheeled as the small shuttle changed course for its mother ship. Frank looked around the well appointed interior of the craft and wondered.

Now what? At least I'm alive and not stuck inside a shuttle eating rat bars for a month, hoping that black crud doesn't find a way in. I hope the Peggy Sue's Captain doesn't hold a grudge, old Chakrabarti must have pissed him off pretty good. These guys seem OK though, and the merchant ship can't be more messed up than the Fortune. That's it, think positive thoughts, Frank, positive thoughts.

Main Lounge, Peggy Sue

The Captain had Mizuki fetch the two female survivors from sick bay and bring them to the main lounge while he oversaw the recovery of the survivors from the Fortune. The sisters looked around the lounge with great interest—there was nothing this opulent on board the Fortune. In fact, they had seen nothing to compare with the rich wood and polished metal surfaces of the lounge since they had been rescued from Earth years ago. 

Their lives had been spent in utilitarian refugee apartments on the Moon, seldom getting to venture out to the enclosed base. In over a year living at Farside they never saw the lunar surface or the Moon's stricken but still beautiful mother planet. The journey to Paradise was no better, traveling in the hold of the Colonization Board transport. 

Paradise had been a welcome change, right up until they were told they had to marry men they did not know. Of course, they got out of the forced nuptials when the planet decided to kill everyone in all three settlements. Given past events, Shadi and Dorri could not be blamed for being a bit leery regarding their new circumstances.

“Please, sit down,” said Mizuki, motioning to a table near the large eye-shaped viewport on the starboard side of the lounge. “What would you like to drink?”

Dorri looked shyly at the oriental woman and asked, “do you have Parsi or Zam Zam?”

“I'm not sure I know what those are,” said Mizuki with a quizzical look on her face. 

“Sorry,” added Shadi, “they are both cola flavored soft drinks, like Pepsi or Coca-cola. Either of those would do fine. We haven't had a soda in years.” 

“I'm sure that Jimmy has something like that behind the bar.” Mizuki turned and signaled to the Jamaican bartender, motioning him over to the table. 

“Ah, you be bringin' I new customers,” he said with a white toothy smile and thick Jamaican accent. “What is your pleasure, ladies?” 

“Jimmy, this is Shadi and Dorri, both new to the Peggy Sue. Ladies, this is Jimmy Tosh, our head chef and bartender.” 

The girls mumbled polite hellos, still a bit self-conscience being without headscarfs in the presence of men. Mizuki ordered for the party. 

“The young ladies will have a cola if you please, and I will have mineral water.” 

“No problem, mon, comin' right up. Will you be having someting to eat? I have a very nice curried conch salad with saffron rice today.” 

“That sounds wonderful, Jimmy. Girls, what would you like?” 

After a moment's hesitation Shadi asked, “Could we have cheese burgers? And fries?”

“For you beautiful ladies, anyting.”

Humming a happy tune, Jimmy went back to the kitchen behind the bar. From the kitchen, he could be heard singing and banging pots around. Of all the people on board the Peggy Sue, Jimmy was the most consistently upbeat. Some said it was his Rastafarian beliefs, others the plants he had growing in a back corner of one of the hydroponic gardens on deck three. 

“Where is he from?” asked Shadi. “I've never heard anyone talk like he talks.” 

“He is from Jamaica, an island in the Caribbean Sea. He was the bartender at a restaurant back on the Moon—its owner is a friend of the Captain's. Jimmy got into a bit of trouble and needed to disappear for a while, so we brought him along on the voyage.” 

“Really, why?” 

“You will find that most of us on board the Peggy Sue are old friends, almost like a big family. We help each other out when we can. When you meet Billy Ray—Captain Vincent—you will see what I mean.” 

“What do you do on the ship?” asked Dorri. 

“I am the Science Officer. I am in charge of the other scientists who are on the expedition. That and I also have a station on the bridge where I operate the ship's telescopes if we are exploring a new system, or get into a fight.” 

“You are also a scientist?” 

“Yes, I am an astrophysicist. And since we do not have an astronomer aboard I also help navigate the ship.” 

“There seem to be so many women in important positions on this ship,” Shadi observed. “Is this normal?” 

“Yes, Shadi. On this ship and many others men and women are equals, judged only by their ability. Women even fight beside the men when we go into battle. We practice martial arts together in the cargo hold when we are underway. Once you feel more at home you might want to join us, it is a very good way to stay in shape.” 

While they were waiting on their food, a flock of small flying creatures emerged from a companionway at the rear of the lounge. They swarmed out of the opening and up to the ceiling, tumbling across the open space to swirl around the table the women were sitting at.