Authors: James White
The Watch Below (2 page)
"I expect so," said Deslann a trifle less pleasantly. "How many,
and how much? . . .?
Of the fleet of 861 ships launched from around their home world over a
period of three years, Gerrol reported, more than two-thirds of this number
appeared to be on course and maintaining proper station -- a fact which
reflected great credit indeed on the guidance-system technicians. He gave
details of the stragglers, their numbers, degree of deviation and estimated
present positions. He mentioned the two ships which had suffered catastrophic
pile malfunction during the initial period of acceleration and the five
others which had deviated so badly that they lacked the fuel reserve
necessary to correct, but with these Gerrol did not give details.
They both knew how many people each of those ships had contained.
Even in the leading contingent of the fleet, of which they were the most
important unit, there was no ship within visual distance of another. The
main body of the fleet lay about three years behind them, so that the
radioed course corrections required days to arrive at the ship in question
and for the acknowledgement to return, and the degree of scatter could
get worse.
"In my opinion we should have been stationed at the center of the fleet,"
Gerrol went on, "instead of in the middle of the first wave with the --
uh -- expendables. It would have simplified our job, sir, considerably.
After all, we are navigating for the whole fleet. . . ."
" You are navigating for the fleet," Deslann broke in gently. "You have
sole responsibility, so there is no need for you to share any of the credit."
He paused as Gerrol wriggled briefly at the compliment, then went on,
"As for our position in the formation, the reason might be that you would
be expected to take slightly greater pains with your astrogation if you
personally are the first to suffer by a mistake. Our psychologists have
some funny ideas at times."
"They do indeed, sir," said Gerrol, with feeling.
Such as forbidding all personal contact between the two captains carried
by the ships in the fleet which had crews. While Captain Deslann was being
warmed, Captain Gunt had already been cooled, because the psychologists
held that a captain was, and of necessity had to be, the sole authority
on his ship. They maintained that discipline and efficiency would be
seriously undermined if even for a short period the ship possessed two
supreme and equal authorities. Apart from the effect on the crew there
was also the possibility that the two supreme authorities might disagree
regarding the handling of a problem and ultimately resort to violence
as a solution. As well, and to guard against the opposite eventuality,
the two captains were forbidden to leave taped messages or even advice
for each other because of the danger of their discussing things in too
much detail, of sharing responsibility too much until finally the buck
was passed back and forth so often that it became lost and the ship
with it. Deslann was not even supposed to talk about Gunt to the other
officers, and vice versa.
Deslann could appreciate the psychologists' position, but he thought that
some kind of transition period should have been allowed -- even if only
half a day. A short talk with his predecessor would have been of great
value to both of them and Deslann did not see how such a brief discussion
between equals could end in their biting lumps out of each other's tails.
Psychologists, he decided, had a very low opinion of people.
But if he could not speak to the other captain there was always Gerrol
who, as astrogator, was second in command to both captains. Talking things
over with Gerrol would be a delicate business, however, since he would
have to discuss his predecessor's work with neither of them admitting
the other captain's existence. Still, it would have to be done and the
time to begin was now.
"The crew?" asked Deslann suddenly. "Are any of them cold yet?"
"Warm, sir, all five of us," Gerrol replied. "We thought it only proper to
wait until you . . . until he . . ." The astrogator faltered, aware that
he had almost committed the unforgivable sin of mentioning the other captain,
then went on quickly, "We've been very busy, sir, you understand.
Post-acceleration checks, periodic checking of each refrigeration unit,
observation, computation and transmission of course corrections to
800-odd ships -- corrections which had to be made many, many times.
"There was a lot to do, sir," he went on, "and the time passed very quickly
for us. But now all that can be done has been done, so far as the fleet
is concerned. Present deviations are so small that they will require
several years to become manifest, so that there is no longer anything for
us to do that warrants continued aging on our part. Provided you have no
orders to the contrary, sir, we would like to pay our respects and . . ."
"Very sensible," said Deslann, breaking in, "but it will have to wait
until after my inspection and you have all submitted your reports. . . .
I take it that you all wish to be cooled as soon as possible, that there
are no individual projects needing to be tidied up?"
Deslann had to remind himself that his crew had already experienced
ten years of shipboard life, while he, so far as his conscious mind was
concerned, had only just arrived. He did not believe that he was becoming
afraid of being the only warm and conscious being in the whole ship;
it was simply that he would have preferred that his approaching solitude
come in easy stages. At the same time he could not
order
one or more of
his officers to spend precious biological time with him simply because
he wanted someone to talk to. . . .
"Nothing of importance, sir," Gerrol replied. "Most of us think the sooner
the better."
"Most of you? You mean it isn't unanimous?"
"No, sir. One of the officers objects to being cooled. He says that he
has given his reasons to the cap- . . . I mean the other . . ." Gerrol
floundered for a moment, then ended awkwardly, "I'm very sorry, sir.
I . . . the details of the incident will no doubt be in the captain's
log. . . ."
While concealing his amusement at the other's near panic at mentioning
the one-who-must-never-be-mentioned, Deslann was having some mixed
feelings at the news. He could not decide whether to be pleased at the
possibility of having someone to talk to for a while or angry at his
predecessor for handing him what might, by the sound of it, turn out
to be a major problem. And, much as he would have liked to have gained
a general idea of this problem from the astrogator, he knew that this
was impossible at present. Gerrol was far too embarrassed by his slip
to discuss anything which might have a close connection with Captain Gunt.
Psychologists!
Aloud, he said, "The private log can wait until after my inspection,
a duty which I shall perform forthwith. Follow me, if you please."
The quarters of the crew and himself together with their adjoining cold rooms
did not detain them very long, even though Deslann was particularly thorough
in his inspection of the refrigeration units and their associated timing
devices -- there were three separate and supposedly foolproof timers to
each unit, just in case one or even two of them proved faulty. Such an
occurrence was unlikely, but if the individual members of a ship's crew
could not be warmed and revived at an exact and precalculated time, their
tremendous fleet might just as well never have set out. The communications
room, built into the middle of a computer which filled five entire deck
levels, required the longest time of all -- even though he was unable,
because he lacked the specialized knowledge, to give it more than a
cursory check-out.
It was from Communications that the course corrections signals went out
to more than eight hundred ships, including the fifty in the advance
contingent which did not have crews and therefore had to be controlled
remotely. And it was the computer, its two specialist operators, and
Gerrol -- not necessarily in that order of importance, the way Gerrol told
it -- who produced the data for these corrections. The engineer helped
with computing and communications, since the power room would be fully
operational only during an approach and landing, and the ship's medical
officer was also helping out -- through sheer boredom, Deslann suspected,
because the crew were in good health and the passengers were where aches
and pains and bacteria could not reach them, far below freezing point.
Before continuing aft Deslann chatted with the other officers, but briefly,
because he did not want to acquire any strong impressions of them before
he had a chance to study their personality outlines in the private log.
Not that he had much chance of talking anyway, since Gerrol was doing most
of it! There were several occasions when Deslann found it hard to conceal
his irritation with the astrogator and felt like reminding him that, while
it was quite true that this was his first look at this particular ship,
he had been very thoroughly briefed and had had intensive training on
a ship identical with this one before being cooled. Gerrol kept talking
to him as if he were a cadet who had yet to shed his first scales!
In the passenger well, however, Gerrol stopped talking. It was a place
for silence.
Because so much space was taken up by the computer, Deslann's ship carried
two hundred rather than the customary five hundred passengers. As he dived
slowly past the tiers of iceboxes -- there were no fancy timers, no
sophistication at all on these units -- and felt the cold being conducted
from them, Deslann began to think some very disquieting thoughts. In a
way all these people were dead. They had come willingly, even eagerly,
on board ship ten years ago and died. Life had stopped for them then and
should some unforeseen catastrophe occur and the crew with their complex,
foolproof timers be unable to revive them, they would remain dead. There
was no way of their ever knowing when they became permanently instead
of temporarily dead.
Or were they truly, physiologically dead in their Cold Sleep? Was it not
possible, despite the halting of all life processes, that they dreamed?
It might take a whole decade for a single thought or a mind picture to form,
and as long again to dissolve, but
something
must be going on in the frigid
subconscious of those frozen minds, incredibly slow and faint though it
must be -- something which furnished a tenuous link between an outwardly
dead body and the living soul. . . .
"This officer who objects to being cooled," Deslann said suddenly,
"is it, uh, a religious matter, do you think?"
"No, sir," said Gerrol, his tone subdued by their surroundings. "So far as
we can gather -- he hasn't given us his reasons, you understand -- he wants
to complete a private line of research. It's the medical officer, sir."
Is that all! thought Deslann, and continued with his inspection feeling
much relieved.
It looked as if he were going to have company for a while after all,
and without having to pull rank to get it. At the same time, if the
medical officer proved to be unpleasant company or if his research
did not merit the continued use of biological time -- time that would
be infinitely more precious at the end of the trip than it was now --
Deslann would have no hesitation in pulling rank to end it. But there
was no sense in trying to decide how long he should allow his medical
officer to remain warm when all he had to go on at present was a brief
meeting and a few words of conversation. The time to decide things like
that was after he had studied all the data available in the private log.
The private log was restricted to the captains of the ship and contained,
in addition to the captains' notes regarding their officers and the operation
of the ship, a complete and detailed personality outline of each crew member.
The psychologists had not hesitated to make recommendations for the various
courses of action should anything go mentally amiss with the ships's
officers, but where Captain Gunt had added his data there were, of course,
no personal comments or advice, just the bare facts.
Concerning the ship's medic, whose file Deslann examined first after
completing his inspection, the bare facts were more than sufficient.
Reading it the captain for the first time began to appreciate the true
wisdom of the Board of Psychology's ruling that there be no personal
contact between the co-commanders of a ship. Had the situation been
different and had there been a chance for him to meet his colleague face
to face for a few minutes, Deslann knew that he would have spent all the
time available in telling his co-captain exactly what he thought of him.
Captain Gunt had presented him with a problem, and the more he read
the worse it grew.
III
When the first torpedo struck Gulf Trader, Wallis was at the top of the
ladder which connected the aft pump room with the floor of Number Twelve
tank, gripping the topmost rung with one hand while the other spun the
wheel sealing the watertight hatch set in the deck above his head. He was
doing this because it was part of his naval training to close watertight
doors when a ship was under threat of enemy attack and also because
the pump-room floor was level with the weather deck and there was
an appreciable quantity of water sloshing around the place. When the
injured were being moved to the base of the ladder, Wallis did not want
them to be soaked by an intermittent waterfall, or the rungs made more
slippery than they were at present. Moving the special patients up to
the pump room would be a tricky enough job without adding a wet ladder
to the difficulties.
The first hit was like a distant, discordant gong, heard clearly but not
felt except as a tingling vibration in the metal of the ladder. But when
the second torpedo struck the engine room, which was just thirty yards
aft of his position, the noise was like a physical blow and the ladder
seemed to jump away from him. As he fell backwards his right leg slipped
between two of the rungs and instinctively he hooked it over the lower
rung, gripping it tightly in the fold behind his knee. The result was
that his head described a wide arc which ended sharply on another rung
lower down. Wallis was unconscious during the remainder of the fall and
did not know that his left arm snagged another rung, which turned him
right side up again, and that when he landed at the bottom of the tank
twenty feet below it was roughly feet-first, and he was so relaxed due
to his unconsciousness that he did not break anything.
and how much? . . .?
Of the fleet of 861 ships launched from around their home world over a
period of three years, Gerrol reported, more than two-thirds of this number
appeared to be on course and maintaining proper station -- a fact which
reflected great credit indeed on the guidance-system technicians. He gave
details of the stragglers, their numbers, degree of deviation and estimated
present positions. He mentioned the two ships which had suffered catastrophic
pile malfunction during the initial period of acceleration and the five
others which had deviated so badly that they lacked the fuel reserve
necessary to correct, but with these Gerrol did not give details.
They both knew how many people each of those ships had contained.
Even in the leading contingent of the fleet, of which they were the most
important unit, there was no ship within visual distance of another. The
main body of the fleet lay about three years behind them, so that the
radioed course corrections required days to arrive at the ship in question
and for the acknowledgement to return, and the degree of scatter could
get worse.
"In my opinion we should have been stationed at the center of the fleet,"
Gerrol went on, "instead of in the middle of the first wave with the --
uh -- expendables. It would have simplified our job, sir, considerably.
After all, we are navigating for the whole fleet. . . ."
" You are navigating for the fleet," Deslann broke in gently. "You have
sole responsibility, so there is no need for you to share any of the credit."
He paused as Gerrol wriggled briefly at the compliment, then went on,
"As for our position in the formation, the reason might be that you would
be expected to take slightly greater pains with your astrogation if you
personally are the first to suffer by a mistake. Our psychologists have
some funny ideas at times."
"They do indeed, sir," said Gerrol, with feeling.
Such as forbidding all personal contact between the two captains carried
by the ships in the fleet which had crews. While Captain Deslann was being
warmed, Captain Gunt had already been cooled, because the psychologists
held that a captain was, and of necessity had to be, the sole authority
on his ship. They maintained that discipline and efficiency would be
seriously undermined if even for a short period the ship possessed two
supreme and equal authorities. Apart from the effect on the crew there
was also the possibility that the two supreme authorities might disagree
regarding the handling of a problem and ultimately resort to violence
as a solution. As well, and to guard against the opposite eventuality,
the two captains were forbidden to leave taped messages or even advice
for each other because of the danger of their discussing things in too
much detail, of sharing responsibility too much until finally the buck
was passed back and forth so often that it became lost and the ship
with it. Deslann was not even supposed to talk about Gunt to the other
officers, and vice versa.
Deslann could appreciate the psychologists' position, but he thought that
some kind of transition period should have been allowed -- even if only
half a day. A short talk with his predecessor would have been of great
value to both of them and Deslann did not see how such a brief discussion
between equals could end in their biting lumps out of each other's tails.
Psychologists, he decided, had a very low opinion of people.
But if he could not speak to the other captain there was always Gerrol
who, as astrogator, was second in command to both captains. Talking things
over with Gerrol would be a delicate business, however, since he would
have to discuss his predecessor's work with neither of them admitting
the other captain's existence. Still, it would have to be done and the
time to begin was now.
"The crew?" asked Deslann suddenly. "Are any of them cold yet?"
"Warm, sir, all five of us," Gerrol replied. "We thought it only proper to
wait until you . . . until he . . ." The astrogator faltered, aware that
he had almost committed the unforgivable sin of mentioning the other captain,
then went on quickly, "We've been very busy, sir, you understand.
Post-acceleration checks, periodic checking of each refrigeration unit,
observation, computation and transmission of course corrections to
800-odd ships -- corrections which had to be made many, many times.
"There was a lot to do, sir," he went on, "and the time passed very quickly
for us. But now all that can be done has been done, so far as the fleet
is concerned. Present deviations are so small that they will require
several years to become manifest, so that there is no longer anything for
us to do that warrants continued aging on our part. Provided you have no
orders to the contrary, sir, we would like to pay our respects and . . ."
"Very sensible," said Deslann, breaking in, "but it will have to wait
until after my inspection and you have all submitted your reports. . . .
I take it that you all wish to be cooled as soon as possible, that there
are no individual projects needing to be tidied up?"
Deslann had to remind himself that his crew had already experienced
ten years of shipboard life, while he, so far as his conscious mind was
concerned, had only just arrived. He did not believe that he was becoming
afraid of being the only warm and conscious being in the whole ship;
it was simply that he would have preferred that his approaching solitude
come in easy stages. At the same time he could not
order
one or more of
his officers to spend precious biological time with him simply because
he wanted someone to talk to. . . .
"Nothing of importance, sir," Gerrol replied. "Most of us think the sooner
the better."
"Most of you? You mean it isn't unanimous?"
"No, sir. One of the officers objects to being cooled. He says that he
has given his reasons to the cap- . . . I mean the other . . ." Gerrol
floundered for a moment, then ended awkwardly, "I'm very sorry, sir.
I . . . the details of the incident will no doubt be in the captain's
log. . . ."
While concealing his amusement at the other's near panic at mentioning
the one-who-must-never-be-mentioned, Deslann was having some mixed
feelings at the news. He could not decide whether to be pleased at the
possibility of having someone to talk to for a while or angry at his
predecessor for handing him what might, by the sound of it, turn out
to be a major problem. And, much as he would have liked to have gained
a general idea of this problem from the astrogator, he knew that this
was impossible at present. Gerrol was far too embarrassed by his slip
to discuss anything which might have a close connection with Captain Gunt.
Psychologists!
Aloud, he said, "The private log can wait until after my inspection,
a duty which I shall perform forthwith. Follow me, if you please."
The quarters of the crew and himself together with their adjoining cold rooms
did not detain them very long, even though Deslann was particularly thorough
in his inspection of the refrigeration units and their associated timing
devices -- there were three separate and supposedly foolproof timers to
each unit, just in case one or even two of them proved faulty. Such an
occurrence was unlikely, but if the individual members of a ship's crew
could not be warmed and revived at an exact and precalculated time, their
tremendous fleet might just as well never have set out. The communications
room, built into the middle of a computer which filled five entire deck
levels, required the longest time of all -- even though he was unable,
because he lacked the specialized knowledge, to give it more than a
cursory check-out.
It was from Communications that the course corrections signals went out
to more than eight hundred ships, including the fifty in the advance
contingent which did not have crews and therefore had to be controlled
remotely. And it was the computer, its two specialist operators, and
Gerrol -- not necessarily in that order of importance, the way Gerrol told
it -- who produced the data for these corrections. The engineer helped
with computing and communications, since the power room would be fully
operational only during an approach and landing, and the ship's medical
officer was also helping out -- through sheer boredom, Deslann suspected,
because the crew were in good health and the passengers were where aches
and pains and bacteria could not reach them, far below freezing point.
Before continuing aft Deslann chatted with the other officers, but briefly,
because he did not want to acquire any strong impressions of them before
he had a chance to study their personality outlines in the private log.
Not that he had much chance of talking anyway, since Gerrol was doing most
of it! There were several occasions when Deslann found it hard to conceal
his irritation with the astrogator and felt like reminding him that, while
it was quite true that this was his first look at this particular ship,
he had been very thoroughly briefed and had had intensive training on
a ship identical with this one before being cooled. Gerrol kept talking
to him as if he were a cadet who had yet to shed his first scales!
In the passenger well, however, Gerrol stopped talking. It was a place
for silence.
Because so much space was taken up by the computer, Deslann's ship carried
two hundred rather than the customary five hundred passengers. As he dived
slowly past the tiers of iceboxes -- there were no fancy timers, no
sophistication at all on these units -- and felt the cold being conducted
from them, Deslann began to think some very disquieting thoughts. In a
way all these people were dead. They had come willingly, even eagerly,
on board ship ten years ago and died. Life had stopped for them then and
should some unforeseen catastrophe occur and the crew with their complex,
foolproof timers be unable to revive them, they would remain dead. There
was no way of their ever knowing when they became permanently instead
of temporarily dead.
Or were they truly, physiologically dead in their Cold Sleep? Was it not
possible, despite the halting of all life processes, that they dreamed?
It might take a whole decade for a single thought or a mind picture to form,
and as long again to dissolve, but
something
must be going on in the frigid
subconscious of those frozen minds, incredibly slow and faint though it
must be -- something which furnished a tenuous link between an outwardly
dead body and the living soul. . . .
"This officer who objects to being cooled," Deslann said suddenly,
"is it, uh, a religious matter, do you think?"
"No, sir," said Gerrol, his tone subdued by their surroundings. "So far as
we can gather -- he hasn't given us his reasons, you understand -- he wants
to complete a private line of research. It's the medical officer, sir."
Is that all! thought Deslann, and continued with his inspection feeling
much relieved.
It looked as if he were going to have company for a while after all,
and without having to pull rank to get it. At the same time, if the
medical officer proved to be unpleasant company or if his research
did not merit the continued use of biological time -- time that would
be infinitely more precious at the end of the trip than it was now --
Deslann would have no hesitation in pulling rank to end it. But there
was no sense in trying to decide how long he should allow his medical
officer to remain warm when all he had to go on at present was a brief
meeting and a few words of conversation. The time to decide things like
that was after he had studied all the data available in the private log.
The private log was restricted to the captains of the ship and contained,
in addition to the captains' notes regarding their officers and the operation
of the ship, a complete and detailed personality outline of each crew member.
The psychologists had not hesitated to make recommendations for the various
courses of action should anything go mentally amiss with the ships's
officers, but where Captain Gunt had added his data there were, of course,
no personal comments or advice, just the bare facts.
Concerning the ship's medic, whose file Deslann examined first after
completing his inspection, the bare facts were more than sufficient.
Reading it the captain for the first time began to appreciate the true
wisdom of the Board of Psychology's ruling that there be no personal
contact between the co-commanders of a ship. Had the situation been
different and had there been a chance for him to meet his colleague face
to face for a few minutes, Deslann knew that he would have spent all the
time available in telling his co-captain exactly what he thought of him.
Captain Gunt had presented him with a problem, and the more he read
the worse it grew.
III
When the first torpedo struck Gulf Trader, Wallis was at the top of the
ladder which connected the aft pump room with the floor of Number Twelve
tank, gripping the topmost rung with one hand while the other spun the
wheel sealing the watertight hatch set in the deck above his head. He was
doing this because it was part of his naval training to close watertight
doors when a ship was under threat of enemy attack and also because
the pump-room floor was level with the weather deck and there was
an appreciable quantity of water sloshing around the place. When the
injured were being moved to the base of the ladder, Wallis did not want
them to be soaked by an intermittent waterfall, or the rungs made more
slippery than they were at present. Moving the special patients up to
the pump room would be a tricky enough job without adding a wet ladder
to the difficulties.
The first hit was like a distant, discordant gong, heard clearly but not
felt except as a tingling vibration in the metal of the ladder. But when
the second torpedo struck the engine room, which was just thirty yards
aft of his position, the noise was like a physical blow and the ladder
seemed to jump away from him. As he fell backwards his right leg slipped
between two of the rungs and instinctively he hooked it over the lower
rung, gripping it tightly in the fold behind his knee. The result was
that his head described a wide arc which ended sharply on another rung
lower down. Wallis was unconscious during the remainder of the fall and
did not know that his left arm snagged another rung, which turned him
right side up again, and that when he landed at the bottom of the tank
twenty feet below it was roughly feet-first, and he was so relaxed due
to his unconsciousness that he did not break anything.
Other books
Let's Get Invisible by R. L. Stine
Jet: A Marked Men Novel by Crownover, Jay
Shmucks by Seymour Blicker
The Penny Ferry - Rick Boyer by Rick Boyer
La apuesta by John Boyne
Claimed By A Charmer (The Pith Trilogy) by Griffin, Kara
KOHAN, SILVIA ADELA by Serguey
Mobster's Girl by Amy Rachiele
You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 2) by Georgia Le Carre
Nowhere To Run by Carolyn Davidson