Regan's Reach (8 page)

An indulgent age later Regan reluctantly
middled the pad and the flow stopped. A warm downdraft immediately emanated
from the ceiling combined with a gentler blast from the drain in the floor. She
again rotated, sharply flicking off water from her arms and legs, slowly drying
as she regarded her form in the mirror. The reflection revealed someone who
looked as if they'd been in a battle. Other than that she was happy with her
shape. Breasts, not too small, just right she thought. Strong swimmers shoulders
and arms, narrow waist and, though not visible in the mirror, she knew long
athletic legs were there, fit from regular running around the Hutt River trail.
She stretched one leg out then the other, again noting with concern the
bruising and scratches, especially on the knees.

She wrapped her arms around herself and
hugged, staring into the mirror as if into the distance, eyes glazed and
thinking. She wished for a towel, not sure at all if she liked air drying, then
refreshed and alert, all business now, Regan walked naked back into the bunk
room. She found herself speedily processing detail. Temperature warm, around
twenty degrees Celsius she guessed. Air fresh and clear, no obvious technology,
no lock or switch on the door that she could see,
Am I trapped?
She
touched the door and it slid open so she stepped into the passageway. Nothing
happened. She stepped backwards into the room again and watched as the door
closed. She relaxed. One look at her clothes and she was determined not to put
them on again if she could help it. She sat on the bunk surprised at its
comfort and the feel of the fabric sheet cover. Hauling it off the bunk she
wrapped the cover around herself and sat on the desk chair.

"Ham?" . . . Silence . . . "Ham,
are you there?"

"You are talking to moi?"

"Very funny . . . you give me no name,
I no play your game. That's the way it's going to be. You haven't given me a
name to work with so until I know different, Ham it is. Think of it as a
friendly gesture." She noticed the tray on the desk.
When did that
appear?
There were tubes on it, probably food and a bulb of liquid. This
should be interesting.

"Anyway," she continued, "Ham's
a good name."

"Regan, this is the ship remember? But
if you insist, then 'Ham' it is."

"You don't fool me a bit Ham.

Reaching to the desk she grabbed a bulb,
shaped like a pear with a nipple at the top. She looked at the thin top
wondering what to do with it then put it into her mouth, biting the end and
wresting with it trying to break the surface. It wouldn't break so she hauled
at it and twisted until it broke off in her mouth. She spat it away then
considered drinking from the jagged end.

"You could have just squeezed it you
know but I guess that works too, in an apish kind of way."

Regan cocked her head and looked wryly at
the ceiling, as if she would find the speaker there. She sighed, "It's
time to come clean with me. I have questions, not the least of which is how we're
doing this, we're talking? How can you communicate with me clearly when what I
heard from Marin was unintelligible? You clearly know my language like a
native. Also, I'd like to know," and she took a long nervous breath ".
. . will I be going home?"

There was silence ". . . Ham?"

"Regan . . ." he hesitated.

"Oh shit!" She interrupted. "I
heard it, a pause . . . you paused . . . I know the pause!"

"Regan, stop it! It's almost certain
you'll get home. This has been discussed . . ."

"No it fucking well hasn't!"

"You committed to help Marin and that
commitment isn't over. It's obvious. You've known this, if not from the
beginning then certainly from the time you stepped into the Pod. Marin came on
this trip on his own. Foolish yes, but what's done is done. He now needs crew
as does the ship if he's to get home. He's been lucky so far. The scans reveal
he had no major body damage but he did have swelling on the brain and a brain
bleed. He's still vulnerable. At this point it's a guess how serious the damage
is or when he will come out of the coma. All that is certain is that getting
him home takes approximately two earth months. In that time there are things
only crew can do for him. Once home, well, he can probably be restored. It's
very unlikely your part in this would be disregarded. The responsibility is
Marin's."

"Ham, do you know what I heard in all
that? . . . . Almost certain . . . It's very unlikely." Regan put her head
in her hands and neither spoke.

Several minutes passed, then Regan broke
the stalemate, "Ok, you're right, I guess I have known, it's just now the
moment is really here. Clarify things for me will you? If it takes two months
to get where we're going, I guess I could be back in say, five months?"

"There are no guarantees but yes that's
possible, more likely a few months longer, there could be a trial."

"A trial for what?" Another flash
of panic swept through her.

"Regan, sorry to repeat this again but
we can discuss this later. We must move, and soon! Already two of your private
operators have launched their shuttles and others will surely follow, this is
the news scoop of the century after all. You understand it would be preferable
to avoid that contact."

"How long have we got?" This was
the defining moment she knew, it was now or never.

"About ninety minutes but it would be
best to leave sooner, please." Regan had the sense Ham was trying to be
patient but she could clearly hear tension, from a computer! Patience was
running out.

"Ok, I'm ready, but first I need to
make some calls, can you organize that?"

"Please make it brief. Who do you want
to call?"

*

"Hello, this is Kevin Stein."

"Kev, it's me."

"Regan, is that you already?" He
laughed. "I knew you couldn't hold out! Shit it's only been a couple of
days, we're ok . . . . you're all right aren't you?"

"I'm fine Kev, it's not that, it's
just . . . something has come up, something out of this world. It's an
opportunity and I've got to go for it. I can't tell you more now in case
someone is listening in."

"No one can listen in, you know that."

"It's not that simple Kev, just trust
me on this. Listen, I've left my pack just off Gouland Ridge."

"I knew it; you went to see dad
without me." He sounded disappointed.

"Yes, I'm sorry . . . but I didn't get
there. Look Kev, just listen, I need you to find and collect the pack as soon
as you can. If anyone else finds it they're going to assume the worst no matter
what you say and we can't afford for the press to get on to it. They'll have a
field day."

"But you can just let them know you're
ok."

"No Kev, I can't. I'm going to be off
the radar for at least five months. I'm . . . working on a project. I can't
tell you anymore at the moment. Please, just get a copter and pick it up,
urgently."

"Ok, ok, jeez, I'll get it."

"Also Kev, look after Steph and Kutch,
get behind them, prioritize it. The shuttle and ADF projects, I think they're
going to be even more important than we imagined. Listen Kev, thanks for
everything, I love you bro, you're the best."

"Hey, sis . . . what's up? I don't
like the sound of this."

"No, no it's fine; I just wanted to
tell you. Look, I need to move, look after Mom won't you? Now, do you have a
pen?"

"These are the coordinates . . ."

*

"Hello Marcus? It's Regan."

"I know who it is; I'd recognize the
voice of my favorite client any day!"

She smiled, despite the tension. "Flattery
will get you anywhere Marcus. Look, I'd like to talk but I don't have much time
and I need you to act for me in some business transactions, share market stuff."

"O . . . K. What's up then?"

"Right, do you have a pen? Get this
down . . . ." They continued to talk for thirty minutes while an annoying
beep grew steadily louder on the line. It was Ham.

*

"That's it, I'm done!" She spoke
to no one in particular.

"Interesting plans . . ." The
disembodied voice filled the room. "It's remarkable that in the chaos of
the last twenty four hours you've managed to dream up such cunning sharemarket
plays. If it all pans out as you plan someone is going to very rich indeed. It's
also encouraging your hope of return has clearly not diminished. Perhaps I'm a
better con than I thought, no?"

Regan shrugged and leant back in her chair.
"Perhaps, you're a lousy con and I'm simply a fool. And Ham . . . it didn't
escape me, that for the first time you used a personal pronoun to refer to
yourself. Can I take it that the charade is over and we can agree you are an 'I',
not an 'it'?"

"I think therefore I Ham, is that it?"
He continued. "Regan, this is just another of the many things we'll have
to discuss soon or 'Ham' being 'Am' may be short lived. I'm not avoiding it ok?
But first, our orbit cowboys will be within viewing range soon and I'd rather
they got our best side, that's our backside by the way. It's time to move so are
you ready? If so, I suggest you make your way to the control room."

Regan stood. "Ready as I'll ever be.
Let's get the show on the road. So, how do I get there?"

"Just follow your nose. In fact take
time to look around; it's the best way to get to know the ship. Eventually you'll
find your way and then we'll talk. In the meantime I'll put some distance
between us and our friends. Oh, and you might want some clothes? Only one piece
ship suits I'm afraid, but they are one size fits all. The legs will be a bit
long but they should fit. Several are stacked in the locker."

Regan took an hour exploring, after all,
what could she do in the control room anyway? She remembered the control room
level was above her and the Pod above that so she started on the level of her
room. Outside her door she walked around the central lift shaft noting six
other doors. A touch on each and they opened revealing five with identical
layouts to hers. The room diagonally opposite her own was clearly Marin's. It
was a mess. Respecting his privacy, and just a little conscious that Ham seemed
to be everywhere, she skipped it and moved on. To her delight the last door opened
to a room perhaps twice the size of hers and a well fitted out gym. She didn't recognize
any of the machines but they were clearly resistance types except for what
looked like a treadmill.

Dropping to the next floor below Regan
found herself back on the Medlab level. She paused before touching the door
then did so and slipped inside. Marin lay on his back, tubes coming out of his
nose and stomach. She walked up to the gurney and reached out to touch his arm.
His breathing was steady and strong but there were still no other signs of
life. Where the two tubes entered the skin the bond was seamless, as if they
were part of his body with no scab or blood. She guessed they were for removing
waste but as they weren't transparent it was impossible to tell. She looked
around for whatever instruments had managed this but could see nothing.
Remembering the image of something positioning around Marin's head when she
left him earlier, she searched the ceiling and floor in vain for any indication
of equipment stored there. Nothing, the surfaces looked seamless. She stored it
away as another question for later. Marin had no cover over him, however the
room was warm and his skin felt warm. As in the Pod she noticed the surface he
was on molded to embrace him and he looked comfortable. Despite herself her
eyes lingered on his genitals. Allowing her hand to hover for a moment, she
resisted an impulse to touch him there and then just shook her head. Gently she
stroked his forehead and turned for the door.

Beginning her circuit of the level she
found the next two rooms to the left were also for accommodation. Empty of
course, and a little larger than her own but with two bunks each. Beyond that
she found the mess. It was quite a large space with a galley, central tables
and stools all a little higher than comfortable. They must be a tall race
generally she mused. The next large room, the last on this floor was taken up
with wide aisles and shelves stacked with equipment, none of it familiar to
her.
It will keep
she thought and again moved on.

Moving down to the next level she stepped
out into a huge empty space. Other than the central shaft which took up roughly
four by four meters of the area, the floor was clear to the outside wall, one
big circle. That left a lot of space around the shaft. Regan paced it out at
about seventeen meters from the lift shaft to the walls which here were curved
upward rather than vertical.
Am I looking at the hull?
she thought. For
a moment she just stood there, staring at it. Then she reached out and touched
the face, thinking,
just beyond there is nothing but vacuum
, and she
shuddered. On this level the ceiling height was higher too adding to the
impression of space. It seemed about four meters, not three as in the rest of
the ship she had so far explored. She made a last circuit to check it was truly
empty then entered the elevator to go down once more.