219,150

219,150

By J.M.Blondin

11/4/2017

 

He awoke to find the sleeping cubical was sealed, it was open when he laid down and he always left it open. The transparent aluminum window in the door was edged in frost. “Which is not a good thing” his foggy mind thought. On the key pad next to the door a red light was flashing red. There is a bright red lettered message scrolling across the screen. Mark tries to read it but it is blurry. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he squints again at the scrolling print. Still unable to make it out he reaches for the eye drops sitting on the personal items shelve above the bunk, putting one in each eye and rubbing the solution in he then again look to the screen.

WARNING: HARD VACUUM ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS DOOR, DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR UNTIL PROPER OXYGEN LEVELS ARE RESTORED OR YOU HAVE DONNED YOUR SUIT.

He sat back, shook his head and again rubbed his eyes. Leaning forward closer to the screen he once again reads the warning-

WARNING: HARD VACUUM ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS DOOR, DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR UNTIL PROPER OXYGEN LEVELS ARE RESTORED OR YOU HAVE DONNED YOUR SUIT.

“What the hell” he says leaning back, settling in the middle of the bunk. He looks towards the storage locker that is part of this very small sleeping cubical. The long narrow door on the side of the open door to the refresher bears the label, “EMERGENCY VACUUM SUIT.”

Looking back to the door he’s still not fully comprehending what is going on. The message is still repeating, its bright read letters saying, WARNING: HARD VACUUM ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS DOOR, DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR UNTIL PROPER OXYGEN LEVELS ARE RESTORED OR YOU HAVE DONNED YOUR SUIT.

Reaching up to the intercom button he push it and calls out. “Can anyone hear me?!” Lifting his finger he waits for a reply, nothing. Again he keys the button, “Jerry, Susan, Dan, anyone?!” releasing the button he again waits. Still nothing.

The other message that he has been ignoring is finally pounding into the logical part of his mind telling him he has to pee. Stumbling out of the bed with a renewed since of urgency he makes his way to the refresher to relieve himself. From the toilet he looks over his shoulder to see the main door and the warning message that’s still scrolling. “This cannot be happening!” He thinks while his bladder empties. Thinking back just a few hours he recalls sitting with the officers and crew in the officer’s lounge.

This is not the first time he’d been invited up for food and drinks. He is the one person on this ship that knows everything about it and the only one that travels back and forth on these supply runs to the station regardless of the crew or passengers. Captain and crews change nearly every trip and sometimes there are other passengers as well. Captain Jerry had been on several trips, Mark and he had become friendly but not quite friends.

When he got to the lounge this time he was surprised to find someone there the he did not know. After accepting a drink from the Captain he leaned in and asked. “Who is that woman over there” indicating the slender red head looking out the porthole window.

“Her name is “Janice” the captain replied. “She’s supercargo” he finished rolling his eyes as he smiled. Mark remembered that supercargo meant someone very important but very secretive, someone to stay away from at all cost.

  He washes his hands then bends over and cupping the cool water in his hands he washes his face. More awake he again returns to the main cabin. Standing naked in the room he stares at the door thinking.

Ok, last night I went to bed and everything was ok with the ship. Jerry, Dan, Susan, Bill and “Janice” were all still in the officer’s lounge drinking the last of the homemade booze that Jerry had smuggled on board. Alcohol in any form is strictly forbidden on Union ships. It’s carried as cargo to the station along with food and water and other needed things like toilet paper but crews are punished for having any within the operations areas of the ship. The cargo area where things like it are sealed and cannot be opened by anyone in the ship.

“I had a bit too much of that cooling fluid” he thinks as he walks up to the transparent aluminum door. Palm first he slowly lays his hand on the door only to jerk it back. “Fuck that’s cold!” he also realizes that the room is cold, colder than it should be, Mark is shivering.

He moves to the locker and with his thumb print on the sensor the door to the emergency vacuum suit sighs open revealing the emergency suit as it automatically slides out of the recess. The suit comes out sideways from the narrow opening then it turns to face him. These suits are designed for quick entry. It opens up in the front so that all he has to do is step backwards into it.

Bending at the waist he backs into the suit placing one foot then the other into the boots. Then raising his arms he stands up sliding his arms into the suits arms. At the same time his head slides into the helmet which activates the suits systems. Lights come on as the front of the suit closed. The HUD shows him that the suit is closed and sealed, oxygen is flowing and the suit is fully powered. There is eight hours of oxygen, water and emergency rations all ready.

He feels a slight jerk and the suit settling as the suit detaches from the wall brackets allowing him to stand on his own. Walking to the door he puts the suits palm on the sensor. The message changes. WARNING: HARD VACUUM ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS DOOR, THIS DOOR WILL OPEN IN 5 SECONDS. WARNING: THIS ROOM WILL SUFFER EXPLOSIVE DECOMPRESSION. The countdown began.

5….4….3….2….1

As the numbers count down to one he stepped back away from the door and braced himself beside the bed one hand holding the bed frame and the other braced on the door edge. As the door opened everything in the room that was not nailed down takes flight. Blanket, pillow and sheets along with the eye drops, pictures of his kids and even the shaving items from the refresher counter top became airborne, all flying in the same direction, out the opening door. His tooth brush hitting the side of his helmet as it too flies out the door.

By the time the door was fully open the rush of air is over, the room now the same hard vacuum as the hall. “And probably the rest of the ship” he thinks. Stepping out he immediately finds his foot entangled in the bed coverings. He kicks out a couple times in attempt to dislodge the cloth wrapped around his left foot. Failing to dislodge it he bracing his right hand on the hallway wall, bends and grabs the offending cloth. With a jerk he pulls it off his boot throwing it behind him.

With his chin he keys the microphone in his helmet saying, “This is Mark, can anyone read me?” as he listens for any response he walks, heading to the bridge. Other than no air and that the ship is colder than usual everything seems to be on he notes. All the lights are working and as he moves from one section to another the automatic doors open and close behind him.

When he gets to the bridge and reaches the pressure door it remains closed. Mark reaches up and keys in the code 7 8 5 7 1 3. The blinking red light blinks to green and the door slides back into the wall.  The bridge is lit by sever hundred blinking red lights. Nearly every console is flashing warnings. Messages are scrolling across many of the screens. Some sections are black indicating that they are now powerless.

Slowly walking around the half-moon shaped bridge he reads the messages with growing dread.

 WARNING: POWER SYSTEMS AT 15% said one. Another read, WARNING: HULL BREACH IN SECTIONS 9 10 11 12 25 28 29 30 34 38. WARNING: CARGO CONTAINER 6 11 14 ARE NO LONGER REPORTING

 Moving to the engineering console he reads. WARNING: LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEMS ON STANDBY. DAMAGED SECTIONS SEALED. LIFE SIGNS-1. “One life sign” he reads again, “that’s me”. That means that everyone is gone except me.

Mark moves to the center of the bridge. Standing there in front of the duty officer’s empty chair he slowly turns around. “What the hell happened” he says to no one. Sitting down Mark reaches to the small door set in the arm rest of the chair. Opening it he pulls out a small cable. Pulling it up he plugs it into his suit.

The voice of the ships AI is the first voice that he has heard since he went to bed. “Please identify.” Keying the mic with a twist of his head he says, “This is Mark Debraeau number Aj782ui856.” “Voice and ident confirmed” replies the AI.

“Computer” Mark says, “Tell me what happened.” “The ship was hit by several large pieces asteroids.” Then AI was quiet. “Is that it?” Mark questioned, “Why didn’t you sound the alarms, or try to avoid them?!” Mark realized he was yelling. Taking several deep breaths he continued. “I am not ships command, I am the maintenance guy so I don’t know about running the ship. I just assumed that you would not let something like this happen to the ship!” His voice just at the edge of becoming hysterical.

The AI responded in its normal calm official voice. “The ship was placed on manual two hours forty three minutes prior to collision. Captain Jerry Dement was flying “by the seat of his pants” he said. When he left the bridge with the other officers he failed to return the ship to auto therefor I was unable to avoid the collision.”

“OK” was the only thing Mark could say. He sat there for a long time just staring out the bridge windows. “Computer” he finally said. “Where were the Captain and officers when we hit?”

“Officers lounge, section 10, 11 and 12.” “And where was the super cargo?” “Super Cargo Janice r49j0x1 was also in the officer’s lounge.”

Slowly Mark realized that he was on the bridge. Slowly he realized that he had lost track of time as he sat there. “I’m in shock” he thought blinking hard. He reached up to wipe at his eyes stopping when his hand struck the face plate of his suit.

Looking around the bridge again he keys up the mic. “Computer, Are all the damaged sections of the ship still sealed?” “Yes” came the reply. “OK can we bring life support back on line for the remaining sections of the ship?” “Affirmative” came the mechanical voices reply.

“Do it.” “Unable to comply” said the AI. Surprised Mark looked down to the cable running from his suit to the arm of the chair. “Why the hell not?”  “Mark Debraeau   Aj782ui856 is not authorized to give ship commands.” Mark sat there for a moment thinking. Looking around the bridge again he said, “Computer, is there any command personnel on board this ship?”

“Negative” came the reply. “So I am the only person on board. That makes me the highest ranking person here…….correct?” The AI was quiet for a time. Mark thought he could hear the gears turning, had the AI any gears, trying to answer the question.

“There is a protocol” started the AI, “that states that if there are no ranking officers aboard a damaged ship then the next highest noncommissioned officer shall take command. The ships AI shall follow the directives of the new commander.” With that the lights on the life support panel blinked green.

“The sealed portions of the ship will have fully restored life support in eleven minutes” announced the AI.

“Good,” thought Mark as he started to rise from the seat. The communications cable tightened and pulled him back down. “Shit!” he said then to the AI “computer you can communicate directly with my suit is that correct?” “Affirmative” said the AI. There was a slight click and then the AI said, “You can disconnect the communications cable from your suit.”

Pulling the jack out of his suit he let go as it retracted back into the chair arm. He got up and moved to the engineering console. The screen showed a countdown timer ticking off the seconds before life support would be reestablished. Nine minutes forty one seconds it said. Looking over to the power reading it still held at 15%.

“Computer, do we still have engine power?” “Affirmative” came the response. “Can we complete the mission?” “Negative.” Looking down at the board again, Nine minutes and eight seconds. “Computer, why not? Why can’t we complete the mission?” “The ship is to badly damage to enable us to maneuver. There is not enough power for any course change or to deaccelerate.”

“Do we still have communications capabilities?”  “With whom?” came the answer?  “With anyone outside the ship, with the station that we are heading for?” Affirmative, we still have all long range communications capabilities.” Then send the following message to Station ZULU7-TANGO4 that we have suffered damage. The captain and crew are dead and that I’m going to attempt repairs. Sign it with my codes”

“Message sent. Reply expected in 86 hours”.

Looking to the board again the reading was at eight minutes and ten seconds. Without another word Mark left the bridge. He needed to think, he needed to look around the ship and see for himself what damage there was. He spent hours wondering from section to section. Testing doors and checking seals.

“I am the maintenance guy here, I know this ship and by gods I will find a way to fix this” he shouted to the walls as walked down the corridor stopping long enough to slap the wall.

After a while he realized that his suit was telling him that there was enough air outside that he could take it off. He unsealed the helmet and sniffed the air. He could smell traces of smoke from burnt metal and wiring. He held on to the helmet thinking that if something happens and the ship vents he would have time to put it back on.

There was, from time to time, groans from the ship where the damage areas were settling into new positions. After many hours Mark circled back to the bridge and settled into the command chair. He pulled down the mirrored display and cycled through the different screens. Ships power still holding at 15%. Life support nominal and so on.

“Computer”, Mark finally said. “I have walked the ship and other than the sealed areas I found no damage. I was unable to get into the power plant area. Can you tell me why that area is sealed from me?” “The door to the reactor room is sealed due to a slight containment leak. That leak has been repaired by the maintenance bots. The door seal can be released upon command of the commanding officer.” Why didn’t I think of that” he thought? “Computer, is that area safe for humans?” “Affirmative”

“Unseal that door please” he said as he started to stand. Mark’s head started spinning and he sat back down heavily. Breathing deeply he regained control and realized at the same time that he had not eaten or drank anything in many hours, nothing since the night before. Grabbing the emergency rations tube sticking up from the neck of the suit he sucked greedily, swallowed and did it again. He pulled at the tube until there was nothing left then he sat back and waited knowing from suit training that it would take up to fifteen minutes before the goop got into his system. It would give him enough energy to get to the mess hall.

After eating his fill Mark was tired. “Computer I am going to lie down for a while.”  He went back to his bunk cubical, picked up the sheets, blanket and the pillow off the floor. Throwing them on the bed he then stripped out of the suit. Dropping it to the floor he crawled into the unmade bed and was asleep before his head settled into the pillow. The digital clock read 1907.

Mark awoke disoriented and somewhat confused. It took him a few moments to remember the day before. He looked up to the clock. It read 0945; so its morning he thought. Rolling out of bed his feet hit the suit lying where he had dropped it. He looked at it for a time trying to decide if he should put it back on. He then got up and pulled a ships suit from his wardrobe. Like everyone else’s on the ship the ship suit was a uniform gray coverall. It had his name above the left pocket and UNITED SPACE WAYS on the other side. Unlike the rest of the crew his suit did not bear any rank or other indication other than saying in small block print under the company name, MAINTENANCE. He pulled out a new pair of ships boots and put them on.

“Computer” he said as he stood up pulling at his seat to reset the suit, “Systems check.” The AI responded with all the same readings that Mark had known about. “Computer did we lose any speed or change any headings during the collision? “he asked as he turned left and headed towards the bridge.

“Affirmative. Speed dropped by 62% and our heading is off by 41 degrees.” Mark stopped in his tracks. 62% drop in speed and 41 degrees off course. With only 15% power left in the ships drive that means only one thing. Mark felt the pit of his stomach drop knowing the answer before he asked the question. “Computer……..how far will we be from our destination when we get close? Or how far will we miss it by…” his voice faded off.

“We will be off by 14 light years at our closest approach.” Mark felt the deck hit his butt as he slid down the wall. “14 light years” he yelled. He shut down.

Hours later Mark became aware that he was lying on the floor in a hallway in fetal position. He had shut down but his mind did not. Getting to his feet he reached out for the wall to steady himself. “Computer, what time is it?” “2041”. He had been on the floor for nearly twelve hours.

“Computer how much power would it take to effect a course change?” “It would take the power systems to be at 37%. We would not be able to increase our speed any more than 6%.”  “Then I have work to do. It’s time for me to pull up my big girl panties and get busy” he said. “Computer being there is only you and I on board there is no reason for me to call you each time I am speaking to you. Just listen at all times and respond to any questions I pose. Can you do that?”

“Yes, I’m programed for normal speech. Which gender would you prefer, male or female?” “Female I think” said Mark with a smile. “Let’s get to work. I.., no we need to shut down everything that I can that we do not need. Look at your systems and tell me what will give us the most power back, systems that we don’t need.” “I can do that Mark” responded a sexy woman’s voice. “I like that” he thought with a smile as he headed toward the maintenance area for tools.

Mark and the AI, who he started to refer as Isabella, spent the next three weeks shutting down systems that were not required to maintain the ship or life support. If he wasn’t sleeping or eating, which he did little of either, he worked. Time itself meant nothing. He wasn’t even sure most of the time if it was day or night unless he happened upon a clock in an area he was working.

86 hours after the outgoing message was sent Isabella told him, “We have a reply to the message you sent to ZULU7-TANGO4, it reads as follows- message received. Attempt repairs, station needs those supplies. Advise when situation changes.” End of message.

He slept where he was when tired and ate mostly when Isabella reminded him to. Several times she refused to give him information he required until he agreed to eat and rest. At one point he yelled at her, “you’re worse than my mother….!” But immediately apologized for the outburst.

He disconnected life support from all areas that he did not need. Spent hours pulling out lights, sensors or anything else that required power, even the slightest bit. One blinking sensor indicator light might not pull much but a hundred or a thousand of them amounted to a lot. They needed everything they could get.

Ship doors that opened automatically and closed the same way were locked open. Other areas where he would never need to go into again were locked closed. He kept a few hall lights where he needed to travel to get food or other supplies from the holds but the rest of the ship was becoming very dark. Hall lights, bunk rooms anything that used power was cut loose from the system. Mark even shut down his own sleeping cubical and moved his few belongings into the captain’s quarters just behind the bridge. Heat also took power so most of the ship became as cold as space its self. Mark started wearing two ship suits and even his vacuum suit to stay warm. Isabella kept the bridge and his sleeping area, the mess and refresher warm and livable.

Slowly as the work progressed the power meter crept higher. Never by much but each day there was an increase in available power. On the twenty second day Isabella announce that they had hit the magic number. She informed Mark, who was working in the engineering section trying to disconnect some of the safeties, that they had succeeded.

“Mark” she called. “The power readings is at 37.88%. We’ve done it.” Ever since Mark had told her to start using normal speech their conversations had become more and more like two people conversing instead of man and AI. “OK” he yelled dancing a happy dance on the floor of the power room. “Is that enough or should we try to find anything else to shut down?”

“At 37.88% we will be able to turn the ship and reset the course. We will not though be able to increase speed very much.”  “Is there anything else that we can shut down that will make any difference?” Isabella was quiet for a moment. Mark said, “Hey.. what’s up? Is there anything else?” “Mark, the gravity generators pull 5.30% off the system. If we shut them down we will increase the power available to 43.18%. That would allow us to increase our speed by 9%.”

Mark dropped his tools and ran all the way to the bridge. Running through the door he said, “why didn’t’ you tell me that before?!” Isabella’s voice softened. “Had you turned off the generators before you would not have been able to complete the work you were doing.” “Oh damn” said Mark sheepishly, “Glad one of us is thinking.”

Over the next few hours she managed to reset the course and were able to push up the speed they were traveling. Mark had slept and ate while this was going on. He was once again on the bridge sitting in the now familiar command chair. He was feeling rather good about what they had managed to accomplish in three weeks.

Once Isabella informed him that all the changes had been made and there were back on the corrected course. Mark asked, “So now that we have managed to fix things and get us headed back towards the station where we are supposed to be, how long do you calculate that it will take us to get there?”

“At our present course and speed, 25 years”. “25 years!” do we have enough food and water for that long?”  “There are enough food and water stores in cargo for 31 years with only one eating”.

“Isabella, send a message to the station. Advise them of our current situation and our ETA. They’re not going to be happy but …. Oh well”.

The next morning Mark was sitting in his chair staring out at the stars in front of them. He was doing some calculating of his own. 25 years, 219,150 hours. Let’s see. I slept for nine, ate breakfast and then walked up here. So I guess I have about 219,139.5 hours to go.

25 years is a long damn time.

219,150

By J.M.Blondin

11/4/2017