Fatal Boarding (14 page)

"Like there's a weight on my chest."

"It's the gravity. Hopefully they'll get
that worked out."

"What will you report about all this?"

"It shouldn't be a problem. Commander Tolson
stopped in to see you for a moment. You had the memory lapse and
don't remember him leaving. If he shows up, we really won't even
need to mention he stopped in here. No big deal."

"I want to know what happened to me."

"I can work on that privately, but one thing
I need to know, just between you and me. Where you dressed when
Commander Tolson was here? It's not a judgmental thing. If you
were, it would mean a serious crime has taken place. You'll need to
trust me on this. Your answer will be just between us."

Her reply sounded shallow. It was all she
could do to say it. "No, I was not dressed. I had not expected him
to stop by so late. I was already in bed. That's why I had only a
blanket on. But, I wouldn't want anyone to know that."

"Thank you. I will respect your privacy.
Please see the Doctor as soon as possible, and call me if you
remember anything or need anything."

I left her and walked heavily back toward
security headquarters, winding around and through the odd
assortment of possessions that had escaped their place and ended up
in the corridors.

In a way, too much gravity is physically
synonymous with old age. It takes a lot more effort to move the
limbs, and so they are more reluctant to do so. More energy must be
expended in doing the simple things we take for granted, things as
basic as breathing. I moped along, feeling old.

Brandon's story was easy to decode. There
was no doubt she was involved with Tolson. For her, it had been a
successful career enhancement. He, on the other hand, had accepted
her offering simply for the pleasure of it. They had been deeply
into their erotic rituals when something unexplained had happened.
There was no doubt that she had been in that chair willingly. In
her present desperate political situation, she probably would have
done anything he'd asked. Her explanation about having already been
in bed when he arrived was quick and sly, but eventually she would
realize the blanket would never have remained in place during
weightlessness. She would know I knew.

So, at some point after posing in the chair
for Tolson, her memory had suddenly shut down, and shortly
thereafter Tolson had left without taking his coveralls. Another
case of memory loss. It made me wonder if Commander Tolson was
wandering around the ship somewhere in a sleepwalk.

Back at headquarters, I took Ann Marie's
place among the unmanned circle of computer stations, and sent her
home to rest. I sat and tried to make sense of everything that was
happening, and waited for the search team to call in. By 06:15 they
had completed their first sweep of the ship. There had been no sign
of Tolson.

Chapter 15

We met again with Captain Grey at 07:00 in
the bridge conference room. Our situation had now degenerated from
annoying to alarming. No one aboard Electra was getting much sleep.
Doctor Pacell, Flaherty from the Data Analysis group, Leaman from
main Engineering, Leadstrom from Life Sciences, and Kusama from
propulsion were Grey’s ambassadors of hope, and this time Pell had
been brought in. It was an impromptu, solemn little gathering in
which everyone seemed to be looking to someone else for good
news.

Grey looked tired. His iron-trademark stare
was sagging. His flight suit had too many creases. He tapped
lightly at the table as he spoke. "How long before you get us real
gravity, Mr. Leaman?"

"We've replaced every motherboard in the
system, captain. Everything we have is being affected. It's not our
equipment. It's outside interference. That's the only logical
explanation."

"Mr Leaman, we must have comprehensive
gravity!"

"I can't change the facts, Captain. It's not
us. It's outside interference."

"Mr Flaherty, has Data Analysis found any
evidence of outside radiation or any other anomaly that might be
affecting us?"

"Nothing, Captain. It's nearly a dead zone
out there. There's nothing to screen out."

The Captain took a deep breath and sat back.
“Gentlemen, do we or do we not have a virus screwing up our
systems?”

Silence.

The Captain turned to Pell. “Pell, we’re
having computer failures all over the ship, but the net still seems
to be operating. What are you doing that they are not?”

Pell seemed reluctant to respond. He sat
perfectly still as though afraid to move.

“Pell, is a virus being sent though the net
or not?”

Finally Pell could contain himself no
longer. “There is no virus.”

“What? Are we imagining all this?”

“Captain, our firewalls are blocking just
fine. We’ve set up checkpoints throughout the system. We even set
up a dummy terminal in the drop area and made it look like part of
ship’s systems, a virtual virus trap, if you will. There has been
nothing. There is no virus. The system failures we have been
experiencing have originated at the user sites of the affected
computers themselves.”

Flaherty sat up with indignation. “That is
ludicrous! Are you trying to say someone deliberately crashed our
computers?”

Pell reacted with indifference. “It’s the
only possible explanation.”

Flaherty continued, “You’re insane! Brandon
was the one using the Nav computer when it failed. She was nowhere
near propulsion when it went down. Are you suggesting several
individuals are separately sabotaging various systems around the
ship?”

Pell sat quietly fiddling with a memory
stick, and without speaking made it clear that he was suggesting
exactly that.

Captain Grey rubbed his forehead.
“Gentleman, let’s take a step back in our search for answers here,
and at least consider this angle. I want each department head to
revisit their problems and check if sabotage was in any way
possible. Under the circumstances we can’t afford to rule out
anything.” He turned to Leaman. "I can’t believe I’m having to
consider this, but are the scout ships ready?"

Leaman answered. "They are fitted with
bumpers. Shops did a hell of a job. Two shifts worked all night,
right through the zero G. Yes, Captain. They're ready."

"Alright gentleman, this is what we are
going to do. We are going to move this ship at 13:00. At 12:00, you
will deploy the scout ships and position them back away from the
Electra. We will attempt to move with manual thrusters. If that
attempt fails, the scouts will come in and push us the hell away.
We will go as far as we can, then hold and reevaluate. Mr. Kusama,
will you be ready?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Doctor, how is the crew holding up?"

"Considering all that's happened, pretty
well, Captain. We have a couple dozen minor to moderate injuries
that occurred during the loss and restoration of gravity, and a few
more from the gravity problems we're still experiencing.
Apparently, on the first, second, and third levels there are places
were you can step from two Gs into a half G and loose your balance
and fall. Also, we've had at least one more case of amnesia. Ms.
Brandon seems okay, otherwise. I plan to resume working with her as
soon as possible to try to gain some understand of this condition.
Sickbay is crowded and will be for the next few days, but nothing
we can't handle. One other thing I think you should know, Captain,
there are speculations floating around that whatever happened to
that ship out there is now happening to us."

"How the hell did that get started?"

"The tension on board is running pretty high
right now. It's a fairly reasonable supposition. The best cure for
us is to get the hell out of here."

"What about that ship, Dr. Leadstrom? What
else have you learned from the data? Are there life forms over
there or not?"

"Two hundred and eighty individual
signatures, so far. No success in attempts to communicate. If they
are actually alive, they can't hear us for their own cries. One
other thing, the analysis group think they have translated the
directory title from the alien data bank."

"Well, what is it?"

"Trash. We think it’s a garbage file that
hadn't been emptied!"

Grey shook his head wearily, and turned to
me. "What about Tolson?"

"The preliminary sweep was completed. As I
reported, there was no sign of him. We've now started an amplified
search in areas you would not expect someone to be. It will take
quite a while."

"I want all of you to report directly to me
about any new developments. The main objective right now is to get
moving. Don't be distracted. Let's get set up and move out of here.
Right now it doesn't matter where, just anywhere but here. Get
those pilots into the scouts in plenty of time to do a manual open
on the hanger doors, if necessary. We'll meet again in about an
hour. No more surprises. Let's get it done."

Back at Security, Marie Ann had returned and
was talking with R.J. while she busily put things back in order.
She still looked slightly pale, but seemed intent on doing
something constructive.

R.J was leaning against a terminal with two
battery-powered coffee cups beside him. He handed me one as I
approached. I stood beside him and sipped the bitter mixture.

He laughed. "It's instant. The water won't
boil in the mess hall percolators. I guess you could call them
one-G coffee makers." "How'd you survive being underweight?"

"It was better than being over. I served on
a research ship in the Atlantic for a year, remember? My seasick
days are over."

R.J. had the look. When there's something
specific on his mind, he emanates impatient. Somehow, it forces
your curiosity. When Ann Marie had moved away, he spoke in a low
tone. "I have a theory I want to test."

"Do I get to hear it?"

"No, not yet. It's too abstract. You tell
me, is your memory any better?"

"I still have the blank spot, but other than
that there's been no problem."

"You remember heading to the airlock, but
not being in it, right?"

"Yep."

"Let's run the video from the airlock
cameras and see what happens."

I agreed it was a good idea. We sat at a
security station and called up the airlock history. The index
number we needed was near the top of the list. We called up B-Deck
airlock camera 1, the date and time. R.J. hit the forward key and
the screen flashed to video.

Snow. Nothing but gray-white screen display.
He hit forward and got the same. Next we tried camera 2, the
backup. Snow again.

At R.J.'s suggestion we went to the outside
cameras, the ones overlooking the airlock. Once again: snow.

I shrugged. "So the virus problem we're
having has corrupted the video library."

"Let's go down and take a look at the
cameras in the airlock."

"What are you getting at, R.J.? It takes a
captain's order just to open the inner door. Do you want to do it
that badly?"

"I know that, for heaven's sake. Yes, that
badly!"

So we carried our heavy bodies down to the
second level. At one point, we passed through a quarter G area, but
R.J. never flinched. At the door to the air lock, I pinched at the
Com button on my watch. "Tarn to Captain Grey."

The reply came quicker than I expected. "Go
ahead, Grey here."

"Captain, we need your authorization to open
the B-Deck airlock door."

"You are cleared to break the inspection
seals, Mr. Tarn. Do you have any news, yet?"

"No, sir. Teams are still in progress."

"Grey out."

R.J. said, "Look at this!" The right hand
wire seal on the door was missing. In unison we looked for the
left. It was gone. I tapped the big red open key beside the door,
and watched as the big manual wheel turned counterclockwise. We
pulled the heavy round door open and stepped over and in. The
chamber looked in order. Ten spacesuits hanging on their racks on
our right, inflated to minimum pressure for storage. Rescue oxygen
tanks near the outer door on the left. Lockdown stations for EVA
members during rapid depressurization stood beside them. Red
warning signs everywhere. I looked behind at the overhead
monitoring cameras. They looked untouched.

R.J. interrupted. "What is that?"

It was a silver foil star-shield cover
spread out in one corner like a tent that had partially fallen
down. Because of their potential hazards to ships, airlocks are one
of the most strictly maintained facilities on board. Foil shields
left lying around are a serious violation. I stepped over to it and
peeled one corner back.

What lay beneath it frightened me so badly I
jumped back slightly and let go of the shield. Even in such an
ungodly state I recognized him. Tolson, crouched in the corner in a
fetal position. He was naked, covered only by a two-inch thick
opaque glaze of jelly. His facial features had dulled. There were
no eyelashes, and his lips had dissolved, leaving an ugly smile of
pasty-white teeth. What hair he had left, had turned to mud. His
hands were clasped tightly together near his mouth, like a man half
frightened to death. His fingers were gone down to the middle
knuckle, leaving them almost embryonic. An expression of horror was
locked into his face. It was an image I would never forget.

I flipped the foil cover back over him and
looked at R.J. His mouth hung open. There was nothing to say. I
pinched at my watch. "Tarn to security."

Ann Marie's voice came back quickly. "Go
ahead, Adrian."

"Ann Marie, the Captain asked me to call him
on a secure line for a briefing. Would you connect us?"

A moment later the Captain answered.
"Grey."

"Captain, R.J. Smith and I are in the B-Deck
airlock. You should get down here right away. I would suggest you
do it discreetly, sir."