Ion 417: Raiju Page 3

  Back to the check list; step five, by now you are en-route to the null point with zeta field building. Life support and power regulators should be maintained in optimal settings. Life support? Why didn't I review these steps beyond simply memorizing them? My fist pounded the console right where the life support controls were. Flashing indicators came to life on the view-port displaying dozens of systems throughout the ship. Engine efficiency, power systems, life support -- yes it was working. That meant that I could keep breathing for a while. Breathing is a good thing.

  I moved to shift over to the pilot's seat to plot the high drive settings, and as soon as I stood all those wonderful displays vanished from the view-port. Once again the ribbon of stars drifted before me. I needed those systems though. I couldn't have them shutting down just because I stood up. There hadn't been anything in the manual about that. As soon as my butt landed in the engineer's seat those displays were back once more. Some little trick of the view-port only let me see them if I was seated. I guessed it was fine, as long as the stuff remained working.

  Sitting in the pilot's chair brought up a whole different set of displays spanning the view-port. Now it had various colored lined that curved away from the center. There were some readings that duplicated the engineer's, but those all dealt with driving the ship. When I keyed to bring up the navigation chart, that was just what it did. They looked a great deal different at two meters tall than they had at fifty centimeters on my data terminal. Sol three was listed in the system, and it only took a few minutes to get the reassuring beep of course acceptance back.

  Before I could shift the view, it shifted on its own, right back to the star field with superimposed lines. This time there was a little green square where nul point was located, and a flashing red circle that was slowly moving to the center of the screen. As it neared the center the circle split into five smaller circles. I felt a little nudge and the pattern before me shifted slightly. The group of circles drifted back off the edge of the view-port. Whatever that had been, I missed it. The little numbers next to the green square read as three hours, fifty seven minutes, and some odd seconds.

  There was no way either I or the view-port was going to survive those long four hours unless I took my mind off of it. The manuals hadn't bothered to mention just how long it took to reach null point. I know that it's all because each one is different depending upon mass, etc. It was still extremely annoying. The stars didn't seem to move, and that timer next to the green square paused a couple of times. I know it didn't but it looked like it had. It was hard to believe that years of plotting and planning were actually set in motion, and now I had to endure a test of patience once again. The only thing I could do now was to take stock of this ship, and clean up the mess of my hurried provisioning. That should help divert my attention from the waiting.

  The passageway at the back of the cockpit was now brightly lit with the power regulator working nicely. It had three doors to each side of it that led to the only staterooms on the ship. Starboard, closest to the cockpit was designated as Captain's cabin. Standing and facing the same direction as the ship pointed, meant that starboard was to my right. I didn't understand why since there were stars all around. Three more were designated as crew cabins, and the final two were auxiliary berthing on models so equipped. I guess this ship was so equipped, since those doors were there. The passageway ended in a room larger than mine aboard the orbital lab, that the manual called Common Room and Food Preparation.

  There were two passageways that led further aft from the common room. The one to port, that's the side other than starboard, went back only a short distance before ending in a hatch to the dorsal auxiliary attachment. I had no idea about that, and the manual only said refer to current configuration. I didn't want to worry about that just now anyhow. To the starboard side was the stairway that led to the lower floors, although the manual called them decks. The only thing I could think of was that ships had a different name for many things. For instance, it called the stairs a ladder, even though anybody could see that it had steps, not rungs like a ladder. I don't even think the pole that ran along the ceiling of the stairs for zero-g access qualified it as a ladder.

  The 'ladder' went down to the mid deck where it crossed to the other side with only one hatch midway. That hatch led to what the manual called the Spinal Mount Array, see current configuration (This feature removed for civilian version). I'll probably never find out what that was since I didn't see any markings that looked military to me. The ladder that led from mid port deck to lower deck let out at another cross passageway that split between the forward cargo bay, and the section aft, which was all engineering. That cross passage also had a hatch that led down to the ventral auxiliary attachment, with the same note as the dorsal one.

  Down on the lower floor, I mean deck, I found the mess that I'd made with the food packages looked even worse with the lights turned on. There were some even in the cross passageway before it turned aft to the boarding ramp and airlock. The airlock was a combination affair, with the floor able to drop down as a loading ramp when the ship was planet side. Right now both hatches to the airlock were open, and several hundred packages were littering the floor in a pile too thick to walk through without stepping on them. I fervently hoped that enough of them were food so that I wouldn't starve on the trip, but starving was more appealing than returning to that place. I hadn't been careful about where they landed when I had been dumping the cartloads. Cleaning up the mess would distract my mind from the waiting. That was my first goal -- for the moment, my only goal.

  Too bad the cart was useless on the ladder; I had to carry the packages up to the common room an armload at a time. I guess the good news is that it took longer that way, and therefore used up more of that three hours and fifty seven minutes. The common room had a table with chairs, and a narrow counter before a bank of machines that I would examine later. For now I resolve to simply neatly stack these things on the table until I could figure out food preparation. For the first time I took note of the labeling, wondering what the differences were. My meals had been called food, and had consisted of greenish-brown wafers with water. I don't think I ever tasted a difference in the wafers, so I didn't know if there actually had been differences.

  I had no idea if any of those meals had included... what was this package?... 'Sastild in red sauce'. Oh, I hope this really is food. It will be a bad ending for me if they are not. Why did I get thirty-two packages of 'Tinu Worms'? That doesn't even sound like food! Did I make a mistake on the floor plans as to where the food lockers were? I decided to take a different method of distraction and investigate the staterooms. I would need to find the sanitation area soon enough. That's the trouble with not knowing when your escape is going to happen; planning things like a sanitation break before escaping just can't be done. Now if those Selstlaks had been nice, they would have listed on the daily schedule when Sneering Face would be careless about wearing his gloves.

  TOC

  NI

  I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting to find in the Captain's Cabin -- weapons, uniforms of some sort? I just knew that Captain was one of the levels of military service. As I stood in the doorway staring at a very un-military looking room, I recalled that Captain also applied to the person in charge of a starship. The drawings in the manual had shown it to be smaller, but one the walls had been taken out to join it to the next room as well. He probably needed that extra room just to fit all the stuff that was in here.

  In one corner was a bed that was easily three times the size of the one I had used. From the way the pillows and sheet were arranged I would guess that it stays there permanently too. The one in my box folded away periodically, which was how I could count the days. This would be mine for the next one hundred ninety two days, unless that stuff out there wasn't really food. Besides the bed, the room also had a large cabinet with its doors covered in a strange material. It took a minute to realize that it was some kind of natural plant stuff. The only or
ganic items I had seen before, I mean other than the lab people and myself, had been references in the databases. This looked to be some type of wood with various colored streaks running through it.

  There was a desk and chair of the same material next to this, with a small data terminal mounted above the desk. The desk and chair looked normal sized, so I was puzzled why the bed was so much larger. I opened the doors of the cabinet out of curiosity, and found several sets of clothes. They were all for somebody much taller than me, or perhaps they enjoyed tripping over half a meter of cloth as they ran. I didn't need to worry about the clothes though, as I still wore my shipsuit. I should probably have thought of bringing the other one with me so that I could change. Oh well, I wasn't about to turn around to go get it now.

  The sanitation area was tucked behind a door in the far corner. I wasted no time in relieving one of the pressures that had been building inside me. As I sat there, I noticed that the cleansing unit looked different. The sonic emitter panels were there, but there were also a few nozzles that looked like they sprayed something. Now seemed like a good time to try it out. I had been running all through that orbital lab, and my hair was going all sorts of uugghh. The mirror also showed me the little trail of blood that had run down from my nose where I'd smashed into the view-port. My nose was already feeling fine, but I was a mess.

  I know it sounds ridiculous, but I figured that by wearing the shipsuit for one round of sonics, I could then strip out of it for the second round, and both of us would be clean again. I was not going back for something as simple as clothing. I'd sooner chew the legs off one of those things in the wardrobe cabinet. Now if Andorian Eel 6 was still on the station I might, but he probably ceased functioning many years ago also. There hadn't been any recordings of him for several years. Inside the cleansing booth the controls didn't have just the activate and end control. There were nearly a dozen options. Freen lather? Water? Aurum dust?

  I was feeling a little thirsty, so I tapped the button for water, wondering which nozzle it would dribble out of. Instantly sprays hit me from all sides, thoroughly drenching me in liquid. I found that by sliding my finger over the control I could change the pattern and intensity of the spray. It also changed the temperature, and with a little practice got it to somewhere around thirty degrees. I wasn't sure about it being water though; the stuff hitting my face tasted somewhat... flat. Perhaps bland would be a better word, but it just wasn't like the water I drank back in the box.

  After about ten minutes of cleansing that felt better than any sonic cleansing, I tapped the dry control. I had wondered why a sonic cleanser had needed a dry setting. I wasn't ready to try Tropical Avague, having hard-shell avians pelting me from those nozzles did not sound at all good. Immediately the water cut out, and sonics turned on. I could feel the water evaporating as it was vibrated into steam that sucked down through the hole in the floor. I had been enjoying the spray so much that I completely forgot about stripping off the shipsuit. It seemed to have worked fine. I felt cleaner, and the dark smudge on the arm of the suit where I'd struggled with Brown's ID. Maybe I should call him Black now since he had started smoking a little.

  I wove my hair into a single braid that fell between my shoulders. I had learned how to tuck the ends back into the braid so that it kept the braid from falling loose. That was the way my mother liked her hair, only hers was much longer than mine grew. It had started out shorter, and had grown down to her waist by the time she had ceased functioning. I wonder if it would have grown longer had she lived more. Mine stayed about the same length. It had been this long for more than ten years.

  I had used up more than an hour by now, but there was still a long time left to wait until null point. The prospect of sleep didn't hold much appeal as I was pretty tense; I wouldn't find any relaxation until the ship started high drive. I had already glanced through what this cabin had to offer, and still needed to occupy more time. I could go back to the cockpit and sit in the pilot's seat, but how long would it take before I put a jolt into the control console out of frustration? Instead, I crossed the passageway to the door opposite the Captain's cabin. A touch on the pad and the door slid aside giving a view into a room very different than the one I had just left.

  Lounging on the bed in this cabin was a Cardovan. I nearly put a bolt into him before I saw the delicate framework of a sleep inducer torque. I had read about these meter and a half tall insectoids in some of my studies, but I never guessed that I would actually meet one. I especially didn't expect to find one on the ship I was escaping in. The sleep inducer torque wrapped around its triangular head without covering the eyes; that was why I nearly blasted him before noting the torque. The eyes are lidless, so they always look open, even under the influence of induced sleep.

  I stepped closer to take a peek at the display for the torque, and noted that he was indeed asleep. The little pulsing showed that at least one heart still beat within that carapace. It also indicated that there was an hour left until it ended the sleep cycle. I pondered whether to wake it or wait. I decided that I would still have time to dump the body before null point if he/she attempted to take me back to the station. I hadn't even thought to anticipate occupants on the ships when planning my escape. I could use the time until it woke to search the rest of the ship, besides there might be useful information tucked within his head.

  The walls of this cabin were covered by a holo display that made it seem to be part of a forested region on some planet. The impression that you could simply wander for miles amid the trees was broken by the placement of a few shelves, and a desk top. They were made to look as though they were part of the surrounding forest, but I suspect that most forests do not have such things attached to their trees. The forest illusion was completed by small animals darting through the trees, that I couldn't begin to name. I heard sounds too. These were faint, like the far off chirruping of more animals. I felt the desire to run through those trees hunting that noise, but logically I knew I wouldn't get far. It was only an illusion after all. Another sound that I couldn't quite place was the almost imperceptible buzzing clicks. If I had to guess, I'd say that it was a scene from the Cardovan home world.

  I left the Cardovan with his induced sleep, and went in search of any more surprise passengers. The last thing I needed was to have a couple of Selstlaks jump me when I wasn't looking. Until I got to high drive it would be too easy to end up back on that orbital lab. I moved to the next door down from the Cardovan's, and braced myself in case something jumped out when I opened it. Two breaths to calm myself and I tapped the control pad.

  The door slid open to a room much like the Cardovan's, only minus the holographic forest and comatose Cardovan. There were a few small items perched on the shelves, and the bed was covered with sheets in preparation for an occupant. There were even a couple of decorative images affixed to the walls in this cabin. I didn't know what was normal, since I had already come to the conclusion that my box back on the orbital lab had not been the normal residential unit. Just to be sure that the occupant was actually gone, I even looked in the cleanser unit. Nothing.

  There was one more room along this side of the passageway, and I opened it as carefully as the last one. The walls of this room were the same dull yellow as the last room, except for where something had slashed across them. From a guess, I'd say that it was the work of a Selstlak with its claws. I had seen them leave gouges in walls before, though not within sight of the lab workers. The shelves here were bare, and a single image of a group of young Selstlaks, giving credence to the thought that this was a Selstlak's cabin. Once again the cleanser was empty of anyone. One more cabin to go.

  The last cabin appeared to serve as something of a secondary cargo bay. There was a bed in it that was fully ready with sheets installed, but there was no room to sleep on it with the boxes piled there. There was barely room to squeeze past them to the sanitation room on the far side. I checked it just to be sure. Nasdalaq' philosophy dictated ensuring that no hiding place
remained unchecked. If unsure, then you toss in a thermite charge large enough to melt everything. I didn't have a thermite charge, so I had to check everything. The shelves were completely filled with items still engulfed in wrappings, leaving no room for anything else. The stuff in here looked very interesting, but I'd have months to investigate it. For now I needed to toss any spare occupants out of the airlock before I transitioned to high drive.

  There wasn't any place to hide in the common room unless they were smaller than half a meter, and I looked in those spots as well. Xenobiology had taught me that there were a couple races that were that small, but I wasn't expecting to find any of them here. Of course I hadn't expected to find a sleeping Cardovan, so I pushed myself to keep looking.

  I cast a glance at the table where roughly five hundred packages sat. I'd have to figure out if they were food soon. The short walk down the port passage brought me to the hatch for the dorsal mount. It opened to an actual ladder going up. From where I stood I could see the whole distance to where it ended at an array of controls. Not a single place to hide.

  Down the ladder to the mid-level, where the single hatch for spinal mount sat closed and sealed. A locking device had been welded to both the hatch and the wall. Nobody could get in there, let alone get in there and weld it closed from out here. Several important looking symbols adorned the locking device, from what looked to be various governments. One was even in a language I didn't recognize. There was nothing I could do here; the hiding spots were inaccessible, to me as well as any hiders. I'd have to look elsewhere to find anybody.