Copyright © 1997, 1998
Last updated on 1/21/98
Engineering Deck 4 - 07:02
Just as Christian begins tackling the next engineering task, there is a chirp on his private suit channel.
_Doctor van der Merwe,_ calls PATER, _Your presence is urgently required in crew compartment three dash one seven. There is a medical emergency that requires your personal attention. I have been requested to ask that you inform no one else._
The message takes a moment to register as his mind shoves aside the engineering matter at hand. As he listens to PATER, Christian's heart beats faster at the prospect of imminent crisis. The curious wording puzzles Christian. Now who would....
As Christian begins to rise from his work, PATER adds, _Also, would you bring a grav-coil alignment probe and a proton counter from the fabrication shop. I believe they may be required._
His eyebrows shoot up in full-blown confusion. Engineering tools for a *medical emergency* ? He shakes his head slowly as he extricates himself from his engineering patient and hurries off as requested. His hands verify that his medical kit is secure. Different, very different, he thinks. About time!
Dr. Morton Limner is about to turn the corner into Sickbay when the All-Call signal from Schmud regarding the presence of external atmosphere stops him.
Eyes wide, a most un-doctor like groan escapes him. He steps back away from the Sickbay door and keys the Medline. << Jan! Urgent! This is Limner. You hear the report on atmosphere? We'd better decontaminate our suits in case of microbial contact. Who knows what variations might be present here, and you and I have been working with exposed fluids and tissues! >>
<< Urf. Morton, I think I'm okay as far as universal precautions, but I'll decon my suit here in the emergency shower. I would think that any bugs on the natives would not have survived cross over from their ship to ours. Bugs in body fluids we'll work on in a bit, but I think we're okay for now. They might have drug in bugs from that minimal atmosphere outside. My guess would be virii, maybe anaerobes and sporulated stuff that has wafted up from the surface. >>
At first Yorblin's words don't sink in, but then Limner begins to relax, with an almost sheepish look on his face. << Sorry, Jan. Must be a still working off the adrenalin of the last few hours. We should be OK, especially with the enhancements we did and PATER's watchfulness, as long as we all follow standard decontamination drills. >>
"Mumble grumble..." Karl says, *before* activating his commdot, << Yah, herr 'Vouf, let us get zis chump under vay zo ve can get back to vhat ve came here for in ze first place, nicht wahr? >>
'Vouf raises an eyebrow, then grins, his tail wagging. << Yes, SIR, >> he barks amusedly, disappearing into the next compartment after Munro.
Just then, his eyes seem to drift down to the lower-left corner of of his faceplate, where the reflection of a HUD window can be seen reflected in his eye by those close enough.
<< Zensor pit, Morser. Vhat's zis I hear about zere beink an *atmosphere* out zere?!? >>
<< Witfield here, Doc. Yep, it looks that way. Schmud concurs; we've got about 119 torr of nitro-oxy-argon with traces of this'n'that. It's cold as all get out, but breathable. Sudden decompression wouldn't have killed people instantly, but the loss of pressure with no compressor mask would cause suffocation pretty quick...and the cold would freeze you solid. >>
Another voice breaks in on the line. << Doctor Morser, this is Schmud. I just thought of something. PATER, please route me to the Engineering channel, the Comms station on the Bridge, and anyone else who's working in vacuum right now. This could be important! >>
_Routing, Mister Schmud...all channels open._
<< Ah, this is Abdul Schmud in the Sensor Pit. Anyone in a suit, check your power reserves and heating systems periodically; there's enough air in here to convect away a lot of body heat, and systems are going to drain in a big hurry compared to hard vacuum performance. Now, all we have to do is scan for mic--what? Oh. Right. Schmud out, sorry. >>
There is a moment's silence, then Grey's voice crackles on the line. << Holy mother of--! You're right! I'm down 12 percent! Chief, people who are on station had better hook up to ship's power whenever they can get away with it. Take a load off the PLSS units. >>
Munro groans under her breath and swears at the same time.
<< Okay folks, you 'eard Grey. Those that can, plug into the ship's power now. But watch yourselves, Getting wrapped up like a mummy in umbilical cords is bad for your 'ealth. Those who can't, check your systems and get to a plug if you're critical. We've not got much longer to go, so 'ang in there people. >>
Sighing some more, Munro reaches for the nearest port to the boards she is working on and plugs into ship's life support.
A minute or so after Christian begins work on the next engineering task, casual observers note that he slowly straightens up, pauses, and then hurriedly jogs foreward, out of Engineering. He ducks into the Machine Shop, scans the room and then seizes a grav-coil alignment probe and a proton counter. Resuming his journey, he moves quickly down the long corridor and disappears out of sight, leaving any curious far behind.
Since the Fabrication Shop is entered and exited from Main engineering Control, Bhyarrvouf notes the exit as he is working through prejump with Munro. He frowns but says nothing, more important matters on his mind....
Thinking on several different tracks is something Karl's mind is quite used to, but it sometimes leaves him a little oblivious to his immediate surroundings... As he continues jury-rigging repairs based on PATER's priority list:
"Ach, verdammt spanners, never zeem to haff ze right size. Chrrristian, could you hand me ze two-millimeter torque-wrench over zere?
"...Chrristian...?"
Bhyarrvouf's voice breaks in on the line. << He had another assignment, Karl. Sorry to lose you a tool caddy, but can you finish up on your own? >>
<< Vas? Oh, jah, kapitan. *sigh* I vas chust rremembering a zaying from my old grrad school days, 'Ze impossible things are easy; it's ze zimple stuff zat can't be done'.
I should be done vell before chump, mein freund. >>
Karl then switches channels.
<< Morser to Zensor Pit; zave a seat for me, boys, I von't be long... I hope. >>
FixesThings casualy untangles the 'turbin' Bex has made with their connecting umbilical and nods to Grey and the other engineers. << We hurry now, meet later. >>
Bex jumps around aiming his entire body at each approaching member of the group freezing for an instant when pointed at each. This stops at FixesThings statement where-upon he gets a steady fix on Grey.
<< Uh, right, >> Grey grins uncertainly, wary of the beady black eyes that never leave him. << C'mon with me.... >> He leads FixesThings and Bex over to the nearest intact Lift, and descends to Deck 5.
The portable macroskimmer is humming away, and Hur'Shurvan is poised over the controls, watching closely as haut-Frieder runs the probe assembly down the axis of the main Zuchai crystal bank. << Hold, >> he is whispering in his raspy voice as the others approach. << Anomaly of level two...checking versus database...confirmed OK. Continue....good....good.... >> He looks up for a moment, and waves at Grey and the others, seemingly unruffled.
<< Pause a second, Hur'Shurvan, >> haut-Frieder says mildly, setting down the probe. << Wilkum, >> he waves to the others. << I'm Aaron haut-Frieder. This is Hur'Shurvan. We're checking the main bank right now, but I'm sure Grey can get you set up for what needs to be done. Most of the work is on Decks 2 and 3; we're about to go down to Deck 6, and on downward to the bottom of the bank, then check the ventral fuel inputs. That should cover most of the ventral real estate until Jumptime. >>
The smaller crew-member hops around apparently trying to get a better view of what work is happening. << Hi, I'm Bexleyheath Tube Station Pop Vending Machine. But, you can call me Bex. Are you about done? Shall we eat now? >>
Over the mic a deep << Hmph! >> is heard and Bex stops and turns slowly toward the larger helmet. << He Who FixesThings. We work deck 3 then 2. >> He says with a slight bow.
<< But Munro said she wanted me to take'em down to see Shurv, >> Grey protests.
<< Chief Munro is up to her rear in dead bodies and broken equipment, >> Aaron snaps. << There's no damage below Deck 4, Morgan, at least none that we can see. Hur'Shurvan and I can do this inspection on our own; you take them where they can do some good, okay? Tell the Chief it looks good down here, and we sent you all up until you were needed. >>
Bex finaly takes his eyes off the large helmet and reanimates himself to normal levels. << Lets go! Either work or eat but no more standing around. >>
Grey shuffles his feet uncomfortably. << She's not gonna like it, >> he mutters. << She ordered us down here. >>
haut-Frieder puts his fists on his hips. << She's going to like someone inspecting fully operational equipment when there are repairs to be done even less! Now get MOVING, Morgan! Or would you rather the Chief found you just goldbricking down here? Or better yet, the CAPTAIN? >>
<< I'd love it if she caught the Captain goldbricking, >> Grey replies instantly, grinning and heading back to the lift. << C'mon, guys. Looks like it's tote that barge, lift that bale again. >>
Aaron watches them leave, caught between a frown and a smile, then sighs. << Probably should do the repairs ourselves, but I don't know if I'd trust Morgan with this scan. Where were we? >>
<< We are almost finished with this subsector, Aaron, >> Hur'Shurvan replies softly. << One last pass, and we may proceed to Deck 6. >>
<< All righty, >> haut-Frieder nods, returning to his place by the probe.
Several minutes pass in tense but rapid work as the unlikely pair work their way down into the often-unused bowels of the Jump drive, scanning the capacitor banks for telltale signs of damage that might cause a Misjump, or worse, an explosion. The decks appear unharmed by the battle, and Aaron helps Hur'Shurvan move the grid-scanner onto the lift for the trip back up to Deck 4 with a sigh of relief.
<< haut-Frieder to Chief Munro. All Decks 5 and below check out nominal; returning to our Jump stations, Deck 4. Out. >>
<< PATER, can you give us a read out from the BioHaz filters? >>
_Of course, doctor Yorblin._ PATER replies promptly. _Pressure in evacuated compartments is one hundred and twenty one point five three torr. No harmful chemical agents have been detected at levels considered a threat. Low densities of aerobic bacilloforms are present. Threat potential cannot be determined without a detailed biological analysis._
Limner heads to the nearest decon shower to rinse. On the way there a thought strikes him. << PATER? Dr. Limner here. You might want to advise anyone who has been in the area of the "pool blast" that they should use the pressureized steam to clean up. Might improve air quality in here in a few hours. >>
_A worthwhile suggestion, doctor Limner._ acknowledges PATER _I will make the recommendation immediately._
As Munro and 'Vouf rapidly progress through the per-jump checklist, the chief engineer receives a chrip from her comm.
_Chief Munro,_ begins PATER, _it has been suggested by the medical team that those areas of engineering that were exposed to the forces of the water column from Doejin's pool might be best cleaned initially by application of high-pressure live steam. This should not only facilitate elimination of any foreign organisms introduced by the hull breaches, but will also help alleviate any lingering piscatory aroma._
Munro rolls her eyes ceilingwards.
<< What the hey is a lingering piskey-tory aroma, >> 'Vouf mutters to himself.
<< Right. PATER, please tag this 'suggestion' as a procedure that must be performed before each of the individual engineering spaces can be deemed acceptable for occupation by personel not wearing enviromental gear. >> Mumbling under her breath, "Oh, by the way, Munro. Just one more thing, Munro. For your information, Munro. Ahrrg, my poor ship."
<< YOUR ship...? >> 'Vouf's tone is one of mild hilarity, and for the first time in a while, Munro sees his tail wagging furiously. << Chief Engineer's Perogative bites again! Only this time, I'M the one who's been overlooked! >> He seems to relish the thought, and bark-chuckles over it for a second.
<< "Ach! You're rright, Abdul! Ve'll alzo haff to keep a closer eye on ze chump-grid for degredation und corrrrrosion...hmmm... und ve'll haff to keep a good zeperation between chumping und non-chumping vessels; I vanted to end mein life mit a bang, not a vacuum-filling 'pop' heh heh." >>
<< Got it, Doc. So far no sign of any unusual effects on the hull or grids; I think we'd hear Miss Munro yelling all the way down here if there were. >>
Abdul and Mac return to their study of the atmosphere, and quickly become absorbed in the influx of new data. Before long, they're embroiled in a heated argument over where the light is coming from.
While Jan is chatting with Morton, he is headed over to the first bay, which also serves as a wash down area for NBC casualties. Grabbing a shower head from the wall, he rinses his vaccsuit off.
<< Better safe than sorry, etcetra,etcetra. After I rinse off, Tabor and I should get the premeds for jump out to those that need it. Other than that medical should be nearly ready for jump. >>
Jan exits the decon area, ensuring that all drainage is contained within the area. He heads towards the drug cabinet to grab anti- nausea and other jump sickness meds.
<< Tabor, have you been eavesdropping on me and Morton? Want to give me a hand with decon? Dr. D, go ahead and stay with Niishu until he is fully with it. >>
Tabor keys his commdot. << Right with you, Jan. I think DaSilva's through the four-hands parts by now. >> However, Tabor waits for confirmation from DaSilva before leaving him to join Yorblin.
The door to Hur'Shurvan's cabin opens without Christian's bidding to present an unbelievable scene. Directly opposite the doctor stands the open door to the cabin fresher. Hanging from the far wall of that small cubicle is the vacc-suited figure of Adrian Bishop, his right leg below the knee and right arm just above the wrist *imbedded* in the solid bulkhead. A quick glance at the suit telltails on the left sleeve of Bishop's suit show the air mixture inside no longer capable of supporting life.
In spite of this, Bishop slowly raises his head.
"Christian," his voice sounds weak, "help me."
At the sight of this bizarre spectacle, Christian can only stare in momentary disbelief. He is the picture of movement a mere second later, as he runs over to Bishop's suspended figure and whips out a med scanner. Passing it over the vital areas, Christian spares a precious moment for speech.
"How did you manage this, Adrian?" He does not look up as he impatiently waits for the results.
After a noticable pause, Bishop replies simply, "I... miscalculated."
At this amazing statement, Christian's only reply for the moment is to lift both eyebrows as if to say 'understatement of the year!' He continues to wait for the scan results. When the basic physiology scan glows into existence, his famed cool is rudely shattered as his mind digests the impossibility that lives before him. For one of the few times in his life, Christian Van Der Merwe is well and truly shocked.
"What....the....bloody....*hell*....?"
While Christian is familiar with the inner workings of Adrian Bishop prior to his attempt at self-extermination, nothing could prepare him for the results his scanner indicates. The body before him is so suffused with inorganics and metallics that it is hard to obtain normal medical readings. Bishop shows a body temperature of ninety degrees, a pulse of six and no disernable respiration. With the limited ability of the handheld unit, it is hard for van der Merwe to be certain, but there no longer appear to be thoracic spaces where normal lungs should be, nor a centralized heart, and approximately one quarter of the cranium is occupied by some complex inorganic structure, instead of normal brain tissue.
Extending his left hand, Bishop continues, "Help me remove my glove and helmet."
After the hard helmet and glove are gone, Bishop makes another request.
"Hand me the proton counter, please."
In response to Bishop's requests, Christian mechanically complies, still trying to digest the indigestible.
Once the counter is firmly in Bishop's left hand, another bizarre activity begins. At first, Christian wonders if his vision is blurring and then he realizes that this is not the case. A fine metallic grey fur, almost to small to register, sprouts from Bishops fingers and palm. Slowly, the small engineering tool begins to disassemble and literally dissolve into Bishops skin.
Christian blinks. Hard.
"Ever since we left Tuvir," Adrian begins, "I have been attempting to come to grips with my condition and, moreover, to understand exactly *what* my condition is." Concentrating on the process in his hand, he continues, "It would appear that during my brief stay in the low berth aboard the Alcyon, a sentient inorganic lifeform, native to R-Alpha, invaded the shipboard computer network and attempted reconstruct the damage I did to m yself. It called itself IASIC." Bishop glances up at Christian. "Apparently it was only partially successful."
Christian mutely nods. Obviously!
"I continue to function on by virtue of a partial replication IASIC left of itself *inside* my head. The partial provides cognitive synchronization and reinforces what philosophers refer to as the 'Persistence of Memory'. I would still be in vegatative state without this assistance."
A flicker of understanding crosses Christian's face, as if a piece of the puzzle has fit into place. His expression settles into that of a dispassionate observer, merely collecting information to see where it will lead. He listens to Bishop's discourse without further comment.
Most of the counter is gone by now, absorbed into Bishop's hand.
"In the two weeks out of Tuvir, I've been exploring my new interior, with PATER's help." Bishop manages a weak smile. "We seem to have developed something of a rapport." Then he focuses on the hand again.
"Apparently, the original IASIC was part of a race that pre-dates the Cymbaline silicon lifeforms, only much more powerful and possibly of artificial origin. The partial that I retain is not at all clear on this. However, one thing that has become very apparent is that IASIC had quite powerful psi abilities, some the likes of which I've never been aware. My partial also indicated sufficient knowledge to help install some, but not all, of these abilities in its new host. Me."
"In addition to 'upgrading' my internal design," again, Bishop offers a slight smile, "I've been 'acquiring' additional material to facilitate the process." Bishop nods towards the bulkhead. "As you can see, my first attempt was something less than a glowing success." This time the smile is part wry and part embarrassment.
"If this incident has demonstrated *anything* to me at all, it is that it is dangerous for me to pursue this course of action on a completely independent basis. I have no idea where this will lead or what I will become. I *do* know that I need a monitor, a confidant, and, what I believe is referred to as a 'sanity check'. I suppose what I really need is... a friend."
With a small smile, Christian nods in firm agreement.
Bishop looks squarely at van der Merwe. "You've known me as long as anyone on board ship. You tried to help me once before and I rejected your help. This time, I *want* your help. Will you be my... friend..., Christian?"
Rafe follows Grey down the gravlift like a good little doobie and tries to find an out-of-the-way place to stand for the Jump, with safe handholds in case of any fluctuation in the gravitics.
Grey leads Bex and FixesThings up to Deck 3, passing through the main part of Deck 4 , and quickly surveys the damage to the lowest Power Plant Deck....
FixesThings tells Bex over their suit to suit com link, << Damage report. Deck 3. >>
Bex, given a directive, goes to work. << Grey, does the engineering computer have a name or do we just call it computer? Are we cleared for access or do we have to go through you? Is there a special channel for computer operations? Do we have to ask the communications officer? How good are the Engineering computer's diagnostics? Is there a vending machine on deck 3? >> The rate of these questions reflects, if not higher intellegence, at least higher metabolism on the part of the smallest engineer. At the last question Bex freezes for a moment but, hearing no basso retort over the mic, bounces on.
Grey grins despite himself. << The computer's named PATER, and he's an engineer's best friend! Isn't that right, PATER? >>
_I accept the compliment, Mister Grey,_ reponds the unruffled voice.
<< He monitors all comms channels and can pick up on directives under conditions that'd confuse most vox recognition systems. He knows the diagnostics better than WE do; just ask him and he can tell you anything from the current status of Conduit Three on the main Zuchai feeds to the selection of liquor in Ship's Stores. A real worksaver! >>
As they finish clearing debris and checking systems for damage, Doejin floats down and joins them (presumably with Angus and Khea' to follow, as well as the Security men). Doejin is on the comn to Munro and 'Vouf. << Decks 1 and 2 clear and secure for Jump-- >>
Doejin lets out a squeal of surprise when he sees FixesThings, and ogles him closely. << What are YOU? >> the dolphin asks, his flukes lashing back and forth agitatedly as he floats at eye-level to the massive ursine, his dorsal fin nearly touching the ceiling.
FixesThings' large eyes stare back at Doejin's hovering form. << I am Umaa, He Who Fixes Things. What are you and how are you called? >>
<< I am Doejin, tasked with assisting the Engineering and Contact crews, >> Doejin says, 'swimming' over to FixesThings and examining him closely.
Not to be left out, Bex forgets about the work to be done and materializes on the head of FixesThings craning his little head first one way then the other as he gazes down at Doejin. << Look, he's flying! Do you think he'll give me a ride if I ask? Hey, can I have a ride? Oh yeah, I'm Bexleyheath Tube Station Pop Vending Machine and I'm an Eia but you can call me Bex I'd sure like to have a ride if your really flying. >>
All this is accompanied by an intricate dance of nervous energy which is obviously hampered by his suit's tail arrangement. Anyone who has watched a squirrel can guess what the movement is supposed to look like but in the vac suit it gives the appearance that Bex is cudgelling FixesThings in the head with a short nightstick.
<< Is that not distracting? >> Doejin enquires, as he sees the rodent's tail repeatedly whacking FixesThings on the helmet. He seems to have either missed or ignored all of the questions in favor of the more immediate distraction. << I find it-- >>
His voice is cut off by a stentorian bark over the Engineering channel. << I don't wanna step on the Chief's tail here, GENTLEMEN, but it's oh seven ten and we have a Jump to make. If I have to leave Main Control and find out why stuff's not done on Deck 3, you're NOT going to like it. >>
<< Proceeding against considerable crosscurrents, Captain, >> Doejin chitters, returning to work quickly. << There are very interesting new sophonts here to aid us! Could we not pause to better acquaint-- >>
His voice is cut off by a low, predatory growl that sends shivers down everyone's spines. Doejin click-whistles in alarm and quickly finishes what he's doing, directing FixesThings and Bex to a nearby console, damaged in the attack and requiring a complete manual rerouting job.
Last to arrive on deck, 'Khea quietly observes the new arrivals and their conversation with Doejin. After Vouf's bark, she stiffly returns to scanning, her muscles now feeling the effects from the earlier zero-gee activities.
At Doejin's squeal, Angus peaks out from around the tokomak which they are working. << Hey Doejin! Cool down or plug in. Remember what Munro said about conserving pow... >> He then sees He Who Fixes Things with Bex thumping his helmet repeatedly. << You must be the help the boss mentioned. I don't mean to be rude, but we only have a few minutes until jump to get things patched. We can do the introductions later. >>
<< THANK you, Mister MacLaeran, >> comes a familiar voice over the comms.
Fix replies, << Right, we work. Pater, damage list engineering deck 3 priority order my HUD. >> And he turns to survey the engineering space.
<< Pater, >> Angus requests, << run diagnostics on this unit to test the patches so far. Also run diagnostics on damaged gravitics systems and prepare a prioritized list for me. Thanks. >>
As Angus heads to the Grav console in main engineering deck 4, PATER replies to his status request:
_Diagnostics routine now running. All faults appear to be stabilized or repaired at this time, with the exception of the Number Six console on this deck, which is not responding to any signals. I suggest a complete rerouting of relevant hardwired control functions to Main Engineering Control for the purposes of the upcoming Jump, followed by a re-establishment of full holodynamic switching at a time of less immediate urgency._
_Gravitics systems appear nominal, with the exception of fifteen stress fractures in Aft Engineering deck plates, Decks 2 through 4. All faults are at Level Six and lower priority, and none poses an immediate risk to gravitational integrity. All monitoring systems now rerouted to Deck 4 Main Engineering Control Station Two and awaiting your approval._
Angus begins babbling to himself as he goes through the list on PATER routed to his console and preps for jump. << It's amazing what one can accomplish with impending doom and coer... um, incentives. Yeah, incentives. For our next miracle... >>
Approaching Engineering section, Alliara switches on a sound recorder and speaks:
"Niigurd. Log started 07:05. Entering engineering and preparing to initiate contact with unknown sophonts."
Sighing lugubrously, Alliara raises her hand and presses the door activator. The door slides open and Alliara steps forward...
"Where are they, Miss Munro? Where are my sophonts?"
Bhyarrvouf has his back to the door and to Niigurd as she speaks. She can't see his ears fold back flat inside his helmet, but the sudden brush-stiffness of his tail is evident even through his suit. Before he can speak, however, another voice responds to the query.
Munro, busy with the pre-jump checks, is startled to see non-engineering personel in engineering at such a critical juncture.
<< *Your sophonts*?!? >> Incredulation and then an edge of steel slices the comn channel. << The *new* engineering crew is busy with critical tasks requiring their undivided attention. If you wish to observe them, Mister Niigurd, you may do so, *only* by staying out of our and their way and *not* interrupting them at this time with questions. Do you understand? Otherwise, you *will* do an aboutface and march right back out of 'ere now. Think carefully, Mister Niigurd, about your answer. >>
Munro's eyes, a cold sea-green, pierce Alliara. The gaze makes it quite clear that Munro expects Alliara to cause trouble. It also makes a few promises of its own.
Alliara looks at Munro, tilting her head backwards in order to stare down her nose.
"Yes, miss Munro, _MY_ sophonts. At least as far as the linguistic and cultural data in their head is concerned. Your own sphere of interest, you being an engineer," - this with a sneer in her voice - "lies in cold, metal bits of equipment, and in people only as far as they can maintain these bits of equipment. Therefore, you would not give a flying Reginian fu... damn whether or not, in your pursuit of this or that piece of metal, you polute the *rest* of the data carried by these sophonts. Is there a saying about a manger? And a..."
Bhyarrvouf looks over his shoulder at Niigurd. << You'll find Mister Chiifraa on the main conduit panel, just through that doorway, Mister Niigurd. The other two are on Deck 5. I expect you to obey Chief Munro's restrictions to the letter and in spirit. Carry on. >> He returns to work, his tail lashing once sharply.
"Yes, captain. I _will_ comply. Please instruct the engineering crew and miss Munro to limit the interaction with the sophonts to the minimum required to maintain the bits that need maintaining. Other interactions must not occur, lest the data is polluted. Thank you, _CAPTAIN_."
Whirling about, Alliara strides towards the door indicated by Bhyarrvouf and through.
Rigo makes his way to cabin 6-17 and puts the satchel on the floor. He then activates the security com channel and says: << Major, this is Edmondsen. I've finished taking care of our new crewmembers. What's my next assignment? >>
<< Please return to the Armory, and handle storage of any weapons deemed conventional and non-boobytrapped, per Horne's modification of your standard ops procedure. Have Kor, Azani and Berana assist you to speed things up. The searches should be complete momentarily; as they check in, redirect Shrike and Hfolraw to shut down the Peltast, release Awntremont to Contact and Schmud to Science if you haven't done so already. I am en route to Engineering to assist Jonson with explosive disposal; in event of emergency, you have the Team. Keep Horne on the monitors and all personnel in armor until further notice; helmets at hand but no need to seal suits. Farouk out. >>
As Jan is stepping out of the decon area, he sees Tabor breaking free of the OR.
<< Okay, I'm out of the shower, and am going to get the meds ready for jump. If Captain Stubbs is correct, we may have a few problems more than normal. I think the decon problem is minimized right now, but if you're free I'll get back to that and make everything here is wiped down and that my rinse water gets examined for microbiologicals. >> << Why don't you grab the MPTA preloads and start shooting up anyone Jawetz class five or six. >>
<< 'Khea, Jan here. If you've got MPTA in your med bag, use that for prejump prophy, otherwise, you should have some scop' patches in there. That should handle the milder cases. I had PATER pull up the names of those susceptible to JIB-APV, make sure those in engineering get pre-jump treatment. >>
Khea answers:
<< Yes, I picked up some nospin for Human and Vargr; fractional Scopolomine works well for Aslan, but body weight proportion for Virushi. I am busy right now, but I will take care of the engineers when we near jump. Discounting the physics of this universe, a look at damage control will give me a feel for our chances of misjump: I will report back then. I would like any medical data available on the new engineers at that time, too. >>
Seeing that Tabor is getting the prejump meds out, Jan returns to cleaning up (literally) any loose ends from the firefight and body recovery.
Smythe turns back around to Werner. "Doc," he says, "lookee here at this... Hollie," Smythe calls to his Holoptic computer, "put up the Suhluhmuhnee Einstuhneean model of uh black hole thuht we've been workin' with..."
As a 4D, multicolored hologram of a black hole swirls into the 'Pits holotank, Smythe continues, "Mahnfruhd, we've been arguing, *hell*, playin's mo' lahk it, with uh bunch of rad'cllee new ideas, but we've not even begun tuh 'potheesize how this heeyuh 'nomillee could be created... *Hell*, GRANDfathuh shor did cook up a good'uhn! Now we kno' thuh class'c moduhl uv uh black hole. We know thuht it's been 'potheesized thuht it is a sort of worm hole, and thuht if yooz go in heeyuh, yooz gonnuh come out somewhere else intuh normal space. But thuh yuge grav'tee well would, and has, crushed all probes thuht've been 'tempted. We also know thuht it 'sorbz all neutrinos, none ahr reflected, and it's a sing'laritee... Now," Smythe pauses, takes a breath, then continues, "whuht happens at uh sing'laritee when yuh 'nvert it? One ovuh zero 'comes 'finitee - but it's still a sing'laritee... So, whuht would happen if you invert thuh classic black hole 'quation? Thuht is, if ya turn uh black hole *inside out*?! You, me, thuh 'hole 'perial Navee coon't do it, buht ah bet Grandfathuh could!"
"If the hisol'i captain is to be believed," comments Hryawi, "Even Grandfather was stymied by this strange region."
"I refuse to believe someone..." Werner pauses, "*anyone* can turn a singularity inside out. That's not possible outside of a nonsensical simulation." He stares at the holo-tank intently, as if daring it to contradict him.
"Well, inside-out black holes is where I draw the line." quips Abuko. Bundling Bit up in his arms, he heads for the door. "Come on, critter. Time to go back to our cabin and pay doctor 'Feelgood' a visit."
As the door hisses shut, Hryawi speaks up.
"I suspect that an inverted singularity is no longer a singularity, doctor Smythe. It would become a 'uniformity'... a 'white hole'." She points to the holo-tank, "That is clearly not what we have here."
Werner idly taps the rail around the holo-tank with his fingertips. "True. Quite true. Still, the gravitational aspects are intriguing."
Turning back to Hryawi and Smythe, Werner affirms, "Regardless, we are hypothesizing in an information vacuum. We need to land on this peculiar surface and begin collecting direct data, yes? in the mean time, we must begin to design experiments to corroborate our theories."
Smythe stares blankly into empty space, his mind whirring on what kind of experiments to conduct on the surface. "Hmmm," he mumbles. "Awright, Mahnfruhd, I'll get tuh work on thuht idea," Smythe continues as he turns to head back to his corner of the Pit to work on ideas for experiments.
<< Aegseh khodeyf.... >> 'Vouf mutters darkly at her retreating back, then sighs wearily. He motions to Munro to switch to a private comms channel.
Munro stares at 'Vouf, a bitter set to her eyes and mouth. His answering gaze is somewhere between commiseration and resignation.
<< Captain, since you've abrogated my right to what goes on in engineering, I have a question - aren't Aolrkhea' and Doejin on the First Contact team? Could they not do Mister Niigurd's observations while not disrupting the engineers? I find Mister Niigurd's ignorance and disdain for known species appalling. I request permission to remove her from the engineering spaces. >>
'Vouf considers this request as he returns to the pre-Jump checks. << Denied, with apologies, Chief. Khea' isn't a contact specialist in anything beyond human/Aslan relations, and Doejin's still an 'alien' himself in many ways. Alliara's siyebh aeggra sometimes, but this is her tree to mark, and it's the first she's had yet. She hates space travel and she's been scared as hell with no work to distract her, a dangerous mix on a starship. Please let her do her job. >>
'Vouf pauses, then adds, << However... >> He keys his commbug. << PATER, group line to all personnel on duty in Engineering minus the three new arrivals, please. And to Dave Sokuku in Science. >>
_Channel open, Captain._
<< All Engineers and temporary help, this is the Captain. Alliara Niigurd of the Contact Team is now in Engineering, performing first-hand observations of the new crew members. I would appreciate it if she were let be to do her job. I would appreciate it as well if anyone who finds her obstructing necessary work or distracting ANYONE from his job contact me or Chief Munro at once. Captain out. >>
'Vouf switches back and smiles at Munro, tail wagging. << I meant what I said. ONE substantive complaint, and you have my permission to frogmarch her out the nearest exit, including the hull breach if it's handiest.... >>
Munro shoulders slump - from relief. With a little grin, she muses << If she really wants to meet new sophonts, we could always leave her for Stamerra and crew. Nahhh, that'd be too cruel to Stamerra. >>
There is a snort-chuckle from across the comms channel. << Hrf. She'd conqure them all singlehanded. >>
Keying her ship's comn, Munro scans a schematic of the ship.
<< Chief Munro to all hands, the following areas of the Elissa are deemed unsafe for occupation during jump; The cargo bays, port M-drive chambers and Engineering decks 2 and 3. Anyone in these areas should move out to a safe area as soon as Jump warning occurs. >>
<< Hur'Shurvan here, Chief Munro. I will monitor the Power Plant from the safety of the Deck 4 command station. Under the circumstances I would normally prefer to be present at the Plant's main panel, but as I suffer from Jump distress I think would be prudent not to do so. >>
<< Acknowledged, Mister Hur'Shurvan. >>
Switching back to the engineering channel, Munro breathes in deaply.
<< Okay, how does your board read? Are we ready to start this waltz? >>
'Vouf raises an eyebrow, then chuckles softly. << Last checkins from staff on station, and then yes, I believe we are.... >>
Boris is just finishing his hookup to ship's life support when Niigurd strides through the door.
Waving to draw her attention, he fumbles for a moment in his pockets, and produces the crystal from his vidcorder pouch.
Holding it up daintily between thumb and index finger, << Alliara! What a nice surprise to see you here! Here's a little present for you... >>
Christian blinks, again, before broadly grinning. "Like a guardian angel, huh?" The moment of levity quickly fades as the stark seriousness and enormity of the situation assert themselves. He clicks into calm, cool, professional mode.
"Okay." He clasps his hands behind his back and begins to pace up and down the cabin, thinking furiously. "I'll agree to help you, Adrian." He sharply looks over at Bishop. "But we have to have some ground rules here."
Bishop nods without looking up, his attention focused on his left hand and the few bits bits and pieces left of the proton counter.
"Based on the results of the scan, I haven't a clue as to how you stay alive. I have to understand the basic facts of *what* you are if I am to help you. Rule #1: You, and PATER, will help me to understand what you are and *how* you got there."
"I can't help you if I don't know the full story. Rule #2: You have to tell me the full and complete story. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Period."
"Based on how *this* experiment turned out, you now understand the risks you are taking. That is what I am here to help you avoid. So, Rule #3: You will let me know, in advance and in full detail, of any future experiments."
"Finally, I can't help you if you are looking over your shoulder or wondering who knows what. Rule #4: I will not discuss your situation or what I am doing to help you without your consent."
Christian stops pacing and turns to face Adrian. "If you will do your part, I will help you in every way that I know how. Deal?"
Just as the lift deposits Aaron and Hur'Shruvan on deck 4, Nick Talon appears, weaving his way betweens banks of jump capacitors and carefully avoiding the more icy spots. Spotting his huge shipmate, Nicks face breaks into a grin.
"Hey, 'Shurv!" He waves and glances at haut-Frieder, "Hi, Aaron."
<< Wilkum, Nick, >> Aaron nods politely, squeezing his bulk past the smaller man and entering Main Engineering Control. He spares only a moment's glance for Chiifraa, who is finishing work on the conduit panel while occasionally sparing a glance around for others.
Coming to a spot, he reaches out and helps collect some of the tools for return to engineering. Swinging his gaze around the compartment, he lets out a low whistle.
"Phreeoww! And I thought the *bridge* was a mess!" Turning back to his Virushi companion, Talon's smile fades slightly, and he queries, "How's the backside holding up, big fella?"
<< I am in no pain, Nick, >> Shurv assures him. << The anaesthetic administered on the Bridge is still having an effect, and Dr. Tabor has done an excellent job of repairing the wound. I should be at full capacity by tomorrow, but I fear the beauty of my posterior epidermis has been somewhat compromised.... >> There is a whisper of a chuckle. << If you'll excuse me, I must prepare for Jump now. I will speak with you later; if you have a minute, you may wish to check on the integrity of the clamps and grid extensors holding the Westwind. >> Hur'Shurvan then makes his way into Main Engineering control, and stands at his station at the near end of the Big Board.
Main Engineering has two sets of consoles. The Little Board, which faces forward, has two stations, one for Life Support (Merkle) and one for Gravitics (MacLaeran); the Big Board is an L-shaped console facing starboard and aft, and has five seats, normally for Jump Drives (haut-Frieder), Maneuver Drives (Silvmane), Damage Control (Grey), Fuel and Secondary Systems (Doejin), and Power Plant (Hur'Shurvan). All stations are holodynamic, and can be reconfigured to do any job. (Currently, station 4 is offline due to battle damage.)
<< *HOLY*...!! >> exclaims Talon. << Right you are, 'Shurv. I don't know *what* I've been thinking! >>
Nick spins on his heels and dashes from engineering as fast as the slippery deck will allow. As he reaches grav-lift 4-D, he slaps his commdot.
<< Talon to bridge. I'm enroute to the Westwind to verify docking clamp integrity before jump. It should take about five minutes. Do I have enough time? >>
The lift overhead irises open and Talon wafts upward.
Off to one side, in a quiet corner of the Control area, is an oblong central column reaching from floor to ceiling, semitransparent and laced with many layers of lighted display information. This is the primary control and status display for the Elissa, referred to by the Engineers as "Station Zero" or "the Wall." Munro and 'Vouf stand on opposite sides of the Wall, facing one another through the clear plastic as their hands perform an intricate dance across the smooth surface, tracing and rerouting problems.
<< Station Seven, Power Plant on line, >> Hur'Shurvan whispers.
<< Station Three, Jump Drives on line, >> haut-Frieder says coolly.
Bhyarrvouf, eyes on the chronometer, only nods.
Fix replies, << Right, we work. Pater, damage list engineering deck 3 priority order my HUD. >> And he turns to survey the engineering space.
The HUD directs him to a console on the Starboard Power Plant that is completely dark and unresponsive. It looks as if it were struck by a small explosive device or large flying object when the pool was vented; the surface is completely smashed. To restore operations will require more materials than the Elissa probably has; the only fix is to reroute the functions specific to this console (fortunately there aren't many, the vast majority being holodynamic) to another location. That's a very tight wiring job involving splices to fiber optic cables down in the guts of the console and under the floor. It'd be a major operation to fix, unless you had a remote smart splicing system capable of operating under direct guidance, about the size of a squirrel. Also, the locking latches for service access are mashed shut by the impact. It'll take someone at least three times as strong as a man to get the top off the console without assistance, as Grey and Doejin find out.
The console's upper surface is designed to be removed for service access; however, the impact has mashed the console and buckled the locking latches, wedging the case shut. Grey gets a good grip on the balky lid and heaves. It doesn't budge. After a moment, Doejin comes over beside him, gets an unwieldy grip on one corner of the console, and applies grav-thrust. It groans and creaks, shifting a bit, but doesn't open.
<< Damn, >> Grey mutters. << We may need a welding kit to cut this stinker open.... >>
<< Shall I obtain one, Morgan? >> offers Doejin.
FixesThings does a quick survey of the damaged console. With only a slight woofing of air heard over the comn he removes the damaged service hatch and sets it on the deck. Doejin blinks several times in astonishment as the huge alien effortlessly pries the top off the console. << Offer retracted, >> he whistles.
Angus continues his prep for Jump. Things are getting under control. We are actually going to be able to pull this off.
<< Somehow I'm not surp--aw, NUTS! >> Grey peers into the smashed ruin of split circuitpacks and tangled fiber-optic cable trunks. << This'll take FOREVER! >>
Under his breath Angus mutters, "What an optimist..."
<< Pater, detailed schematic, console 3859 on my HUD. >> FixesThings orders.
_Coming online,_ PATER responds. _Live traces highlighted, showing where signal interrupts are isolated._
Switching to the suit-to-suit comn to Bex, terse instructions are given and Bex scampers into the guts of the charred console. As soon as tasks are at hand Fix and Bex ignore all distractions and go to work. For those who take note their team work has the choreographed ease and confidence that can only be obtained through a partnership of many years. All that is heard over the comn are FixesThings' occasional requests of PATER. Tasks are completed at a rapid rate as the nervous energy of Bex is directed into repairs.
<< Holy shit, >> Grey breathes, a huge grin spreading over his face as he watches Bex work under the huge ursine's guidance. << This is, this is... Angus, c'mere, LOOK at this, look at the little guy GO! Doejin! Hey! Hey! PATER! Can you get this on a securecam? Alliara's GOTTA see this! Alliara...? What the hell am I SAYING? The CHIEF'S gotta see this!"
At Grey's scream, Alliara runs to the hatch and pokes her head through it to look at Grey peering into a latrine-like opening in the console. "A fitting vocation for an engineer," thinks Alliara, a slow smile spreading on her face.
Angus then begins a little mantra of 'please don't go ballistic, please don't go ballistic...' as he heads back to his station to continue preparations for Jump.
"Hey! Chief Munro! This is Grey on Deck 3...I was about to give you a twenty-minute fix estimate on console 3859, but I gotta revise that to more like FIVE minutes. We got ourselves a micropath tracer search- and-repair unit that runs on PEANUTS! >>
"He is polluting my DATA! KILL! DESTROY! RAZE! OBLITERATE! "Mister GREY! This is a HARDLY proper remark in relation to an industrious sophont and YOU'RE BLOODY POLLUTING MY DATA! CEASE!" Popping through the hatch, Alliara half-runs towards the console and the hulking bulk of Fixes Stuff. And looks at Bex running inside the console, retracing some kind of wires from one kind of places to other kinds of places.
Grey's comn call cuts through Munro's concentration. Visibly irritated at yet *another* interruption, she glances at the securecam image while opening the comn channel. The verbal blast dies as her jaw drops.
At Grey's last comment, Angus gives a hearty laugh. With his area under control, he decides to shuffle over to take a look. Bex looks like he is working just under Mach 1. << Grey this is pretty slick, but did you have to call the Boss? She would normally find this pretty amazing, she is pretty busy... >>. Memories of interrupting Munro at critical times for trivial matters flash through his mind. 'I did that to Yolanda once... once. My interrupting her during the experiment didn't hurt it like she thought it might. At least Yolanda handed my head back to me on a platter so we could finish the experiment. I know how to avoid that temper now.'
<< Mister Auntremont, >> calls Niigurd, << PLEASE rejoin the Contact Team as soon as possible. My field is languages, less so xenoanthro. In addition, there are THREE sophonts and only one of me. Am unable to watch all three and prevent," this with a withering stare at Grey, "peculiar idiolectic expression by ostensibly autonomous neuromuscular units of verbiage discontrol. PLease advise ETA in Engineering. >>
<< I'm right here, Alliara, >> Rafe says with forced mildness as he rises through the floor of Deck 3 on gravlift E-2. Prophetess lend me strength and wisdom, he thinks. << May I respectfully suggest that our survival is more important than linguistic research? You can't publish anything if we die in a misjump. >> He takes Alliara by the elbow and marches her, gently if possible, forcibly if necessary, away from console 3859.
Alliara shakes off Rafe's hand and stands looking at the engineering bustle. As the pre-jump chaos begins to calm down (except Chiaafra's nervous twitch), Alliara hisses to Rafe:
<< MISTER Awntremont, grab any part of my anatomy another time, and you shall be speedily rendered monomanual. Please take not... >>
MacLearan comes scrambling through the hatch and en-route to his station pauses by Rafe and Alliara. With a pausing glance to Alliara, he looks at Rafe << Thanks for the hand here. >> He turns to Alliara, << I don't have much time, but I wouldn't really be concerned with polluted data. Data is worthless if we're dead. And I would caution you against running through engineering like that. If you had tripped anyone or done any damage... Let me put it this way, a while back Munro and I were working on an experiment. At a critical juncture, I interrupted her with something trivial. After she handed my head back to me, we continued the experiment. That was not nearly as critical as this. I can only hope she did not notice your display. >>
<< Mister MacLearn, >> Alliara growl back, << your concern is duly noted. It is somewhat nonsensical, since we will die anyway, but meanwhile our data is no less important than yours - in fact more. Without language a precious lot you tinkerers shall be able to produce. Worse... Never mind, Mister MacLearn. You, no doubt, have a lot of buttons to push. Go, button pusher. >>
With that, Alliara switches off her attention from MacLearan and looks at Chiaafra who has just been assaulted by another engineer... "Poor little sophont," think Alliara, "half-kidnapped, half mugged, half murdered and now about to be half discorporated."
With that Angus moves quickly to Station Two and completes Jump preperations.
With the formidable Ms. Niigurd out of the way of the engineering crew, Rafe (who is still in his combat armor, but weaponless) folds his arms and leans against a vertical surface, checking first to make sure he won't push any controls.
Rafe's habitual self-control is strongly in force as he observes and records the body language of a severely frightened...whatever-it-is. His thoughts are running in much the same vein as they have been all "morning": the mental preparations of a latter-day Stoic for possible death in the line of duty.
He spares a glance to make sure Alliara is behaving in a likewise professional manner.
The securecam image, for those who call it up, is very poor due to the awkward viewing angle, but it gives tantalizing glimpses of the tiny alien scampering in and around obstructions that would require complete removal for anyone else, hand-sorting and reconnecting fiber optic cables at the rate of one every few seconds.
_All non-routable 3859 functions have been rerouted to Main Engineering Control Station Seven,_ PATER reports. _Transmission error rates are not within acceptable limits on the following lines...._ As the computer reels off a string of numbers, Bex redoes the relevant connections, and in less than five minutes, the entire board shows green.
<< Ave Maria, >> Grey breathes, still grinning like an idiot.
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