Torchship (26 page)

Guo’s voice came over the intercom. “Converter room to
bridge.”

“Captain here,” answered Schwartzenberger.

“Sir, I’m going to need some time to get ready to boost
again.”

“What's the problem?”

“Converter didn’t like the fast shutdown. I’ve got some
clogged pipes I need to clear.”

“I thought that fancy MC978 put up with everything better
than the old one.” It had certainly let them boost continuously much longer
than the original had.

“I’m still discovering what it’s finicky about.”

“All right. How long do you need?”

“Not sure yet. I’m going to have to open up the sump
plumbing.”

“Want me to send Billy down to give you a hand?”

“No, I don’t—this is going to be too complicated for that.”

Mitchie made sure her mike was off before asking, “I thought
Billy was apprenticing as mechanic?”

Schwartzenberger switched his off. “That would be working
better if Guo had more patience with fools.”

She turned her mike back on. “Can I give you a hand down
there?”

“Sure. You probably fit better into the access than I do.”

“Sir?”

The captain waved toward the hatch. “Granted. I have the
con.”

The converter room had always reminded Mitchie of an ancient
temple: a big open area surrounding the statue of the god with a ring of
columns on the outside. The converter still held the center but the pipes and
tanks on the outside were covered with panels. Guo had dismantled most of the
firedeck making up the room’s floor. The exposed plumbing looked like a bramble
bush with thicker vines. A pair of legs and some low curses emerged from a gap
near the base of the converter.

“How’s it going?” she asked.

Guo pushed himself out and caught himself on one of the wire
feeds. “Badly. All the sludge pipes are clogged. They’re going to have to come
out to get cleared. Let’s get some safety gear on you.” His gear was limited.
All she could see was gloves and, as he turned to face her, a codpiece inside
his jumpsuit. Only worried about radiation hazards then. He tossed her a wide leadweave
belt which she wrapped around her hips.

“What’s the dosage?”

He pointed at the Geiger counter on top of the converter. “A
bit above background. I’m mostly worried about something nastier coming out of
the pipes when we unmount them. Thanks for coming down. Alexi wimped out when
he found out we had to deal with sludge.”

“Fuzies like to pretend everything’s safe. This where you’re
starting?” She looked into where Guo had been working.

“I was trying. Couldn’t get in far enough to apply the
wrench.”

She took the gloves and wrench and started floating in. “What
happened?”

“I screwed up.”

“That’s just making me more curious.”

“The emergency shutdown on the old GNX converter pushed
water through to clean it out and cool everything down. Then I’d get to spend a
day drying it out and dealing with corrosion. The, the, um, 978 has separate
cooling pipes.”

She wondered why he fumbled his words, then remembered she’d
changed after her sleep shift. This jumpsuit had always been a bit too snug in
the hips. She wiggled her hips back and forth to push herself between the
pipes.

“It also has an air pressure, um, system for forcing out the
sludge. I, ah, hit, um, triggered both at once. Should’ve given the air a
minute to force it clean first. Instead, uh, it, uh, froze the sludge in place
and the air couldn’t budge it.”

Behave, girl
, she told herself.
Fix the ship
first, tease the mechanic later
. She pulled herself the rest of the way in
with her hands. “So the sludge pipes are full?”

“Probably. Nastier than usual, too. The overheating was
trashing converter efficiency so it wasn’t going down to stable isotopes. That’s
why I’ve got the counter out. If we clean out the pipes then I can chip out the
residue in the converter and get started again.”

“This is going to take a while.” She got the wrench on the
first bolt and started turning. “Okay, I’m disconnecting the converter end
first.”

“Wait a minute between bolts, in case there’s some mercury
or other liquid in there.”

“Right.” She started on the second one. “You realize we’re
headed away from the gate really fast, right?”

“So we don’t have time to clean up any liquid
short-half-life sludge.”

“Right.” She shone her flashlight on the pipe flange.
Nothing seeping out. She went back to turning the bolts.

The pipe didn’t leak anything after she unbolted it. The
sludge was solid enough it took running a cable around it with both of them
pulling to break it free. The Geiger counter didn’t complain so the isotopes
were stable enough to not make them put on any more gear. Guo made them both
drink some water before starting on the next pipe.

When all six pipes were dismounted Guo told her to take a
break while he went in with a chisel and hammer. The sludge was brittle so it
only took a few swings to get a hole through the residue at each port. Then he
held a suction bag to the inspection port on the converter’s side to gather up
the fragments.

“Not going to clear the sludge tank ports?” asked Mitchie.

Guo shook his head. “Not until we’re remounting the pipes. I
don’t have a good way to collect the chips.” He grinned. “Now it’s time for the
pretty part.” She went off to get her pressure suit. The next step they’d do
out on the hull.

Mitchie had to admit watching molten metal drops fly past
her faceplate was pretty. They glowed different colors depending on the
element. But it was not her favorite thing to do in vacuum. Cleaning out the
pipes was a two-spacer job. One spun the pipe, angling it so neither end
pointed toward the ship. The other held the welding torch to the center of spin.
As the pipe heated the sludge melted and drops came out the end. Very pretty,
if you could stop worrying about one melting a hole in your suit.

Journey Day 49. Samnia System. Acceleration: 10 m/s
²

The captain had started them on ten gravs acceleration as
soon as Guo reported the converter repaired. Mitchie stopped by her cabin for a
shower before reporting to the bridge. After six hours in a spacesuit she was
marinated in her own sweat.

Schwartzenberger held a stack of calculation sheets. He
handed her the top one as soon as she came through the hatch. “Course for the
gate. Check me.”

“Yes, sir.” It was the same one she’d been looking at
before, modified for an extra day of coasting. “Looks good.”

“Now look at these.” He handed over the rest of the stack.
She flipped through them quickly before starting to check his math. He’d
updated their courses for the rest of the systems through Earth and back to the
Fusion. She went through it line by line. When she put the last one down the
captain asked, “How do those look?”

“Terrible. I kept hoping I’d find a math error.”

“So did I. But we burned a lot of metal getting away from
that thing. That means shorter boosts and longer ballistics for the rest of the
trip. Even more so if we hold back a reserve for another chase like that. Which
means more travel time.”

Mitchie flipped through the stack again. “This isn’t leaving
much of a reserve.”

“No. I figure we need to take it slower than I’ve got there.”

“I hate algae crackers.”

“You haven’t started hating them yet. Which reminds me.” He
connected the intercom to Billy’s handcomm. “What strain are you using for
hydroponics algae?”

“Maximum oxygen production, why? That’s what we’ve always
been using,” replied the deckhand.

“Switch to the calorie production strains.”

“Oh, no. Captain, are you going to make us eat crackers?”

“No. You can just sit there and look at them all you want.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll start the switch on the maintenance cycle
this afternoon.”

“Thank you.” Schwartzenberger turned the intercom off. “This
is not going to go over well with the passengers.”

***

Reed had gathered the passengers in the hold.
Schwartzenberger looked them over. The cliques were obvious. People left empty
spaces between them, hanging back from the speaker rather than brush up against
a rival. “Thank you all for coming. It’s obvious we’re not having this meeting
to discuss some good news.” He summarized the escape from the AI ship, and how
much that would delay their reaching the next gate. “The amount of fuel metal
we used to escape was as much as we’d normally use to cross an entire star
system. That’s destroyed most of the reserve of fuel we had loaded. So we’re
going to have to take slower routes to conserve fuel. We’re also going to stay
farther from AI-controlled worlds to avoid attacks like that, which is also
going to slow down our journey. Taken together our arrival at Old Earth will be
delayed by at least a month, probably closer to two months.”

He gestured to Reed, who stepped forward and explained how
food servings would be reduced to stretch out the available supply over the
longer trip. “Now, we have a recycler that will ensure we have unlimited air
and water available. So it’s only food we have to worry about. The crew will
also be shifting their hydroponics production to produce some supplemental
food, bad tasting, but better than starving.”

Billy whispered “Barely” behind them. Bing shushed him.

The passengers had begun chatting among themselves. No one
had panicked. “Are there any questions?” said Reed.

The leader of the white-robes stepped forward.
Schwartzenberger tried to remember his name. It was on the manifest, but he
kept wanting to be called “Crystal One” on the ship. “The success of our
mission requires some of us to reach Earth. It does not require all of us to do
so. The hazards of the journey may cause additional delays and we should
prepare for this.”

“There’s a limit to how much we can stretch out the food
before deficiency diseases start to be a problem,” said Reed.

“Of course. We will have to use additional food supplies,”
said Crystal One.

“We’re already doing that. The crew will be providing us
algae crackers from the hydroponics,” answered Reed. Schwartzenberger rested
his hand on the butt of his pistol, hidden in his pants pocket. He’d ordered the
crew to attend the meeting armed in case a passenger proposed seizing their
food for the trip home.

“Limited, and lacking essential nutrients. We have to
embrace the reality that we are all part of the energy cycle. Each of us is a
substantial food source. We need to donate a few so that the rest may complete
the mission.” A few passengers gasped as they grasped his intent. “This should
be shared equally among the factions of our company. As a gesture of good
faith, the Crystalline Order will sponsor the first volunteer.” He turned to
the cluster of white-robes behind him. “Crystal Six?”

A young woman stepped forward, bowed, and returned to the
group. Angry mutters came from the passengers. Rabbi Orbakh shouted, “Treyf!”

Billy said, “No point, she’d only dress out at fifteen
kilo—Ow! I was just—Ow!” Schwartzenberger looked back to see Bing holding up
her elbow as Billy rubbed his ribs.

Reed tried to calm the crowd. “Crystal One, this is clearly
premature. We are not facing such an emergency.”

The white-robe held his ground. “There is every reason to
make that decision promptly. The available food supplies will go farther
divided among fewer people. And our individual food value is at a maximum that
will only decline as we are fed more poorly.”

The crowd got louder. Schwartzenberger stepped in front of
Reed. “There will be no homicides on this ship, voluntary or not. This subject
is tabled. Crystal One, do not raise it again.”

The cult leader bowed. “Of course, sir. I’m sure once it’s
too late many others will be willing to suggest it.” He moved back to his
group.

“This concludes this meeting,” said the captain. “Please
return to your quarters.” The passengers dispersed. They gave the Crystalline
Order a wide berth as they moved toward their entrance to the dorm container.
The crew drifted back to the ladder.

“That could have gone worse,” said Bing.

“How?” asked Billy.

“They could’ve wanted to eat us.”

Journey Day 78. Vouvant System. Acceleration: 0 m/s
²

Bing floated through the bridge hatch. “How’s the work
going?” she asked.

“Good,” said Mitchie. She pointed at the comet
Fives Full
snuggled up to. “Billy found a water-rich patch so they’re ahead of schedule.”
He was visible through the haze of ammonia ice and other material being spat
out by the mass processor as he shoveled ice into the intake. Alexi, managing
the hose to the reaction mass tanks, was completely hidden.

“That’s good news.” Bing took up a handhold next to Mitchie’s
couch. “What are you working on?” A stack of well-covered scratch paper was in
the pilot’s lap.

“Astrography. Checking sightings against the almanac. They’ve
all been pretty close.”

“You don’t sound happy about it,” said the mate.

“It’s this thing.” Mitchie pulled out a rough-bound book.
The cover read
A Captain’s Tale of a Journey To Old Earth and a Safe Return.

“I thought we’d gotten some useful tips out of that.”

“We did. Until Samnia. The astrography’s off. This system’s
even worse. It’s like he took the Vouvant almanac and just added some random
offsets.”

“Is it just the observations that are off?”

“No. I went back through the food logs. Starting in Samnia
the consumption becomes constant. Some of the incidents don’t ring true either.”

“So what do you think really happened?”

“They jumped into Samnia, got scared, and ran back to the
prior system. But nobody would buy a book called
We Went Halfway to Earth
and Panicked
.”