Authors: Stephen W Bennett
Koban (15 page)
That done, Mirikami switched off, turned about and took a less
fouled route to the central lounge area of the deck. He passed one woman’s corpse
on his first turning. She had lost her lower right leg to an explosive round.
Her body was slumped against the bulkhead. A Krall had nearly decapitated her
to finish her. A gore-covered left hand was resting on her chest near her throat,
her right hand pressed against her shattered right calf. It had been a fruitless
effort to stem the flows ending her life. He recognized her, even with the contortion
of death and fear frozen on her bloodied face. Her name escaped him now, but she
was one of the Board members he had met with, in what seemed an age ago.
He walked past her, turned another corner, and just ahead, he
could see people standing in groups, or sitting on the floor, but huddled together,
in what he knew they believed furnished some sort of security. He knew they were
wrong.
“Doctor Martin was present as the Krall instructions were given
to us, and he knows all that I know about them. We must do some work for them, and
you are all now well aware of the penalty of failure to obey them. More people will
die. Some crew members are due to arrive by the lifts to move some...” he groped
for a word, “equipment, using some cargo pallet movers.”
“You need to get out of their way, and if you will all file down
the multiple stairways, Doctor Martin can brief more people at one time, down on
deck 7. No questions right now, please. Go quickly!”
Grumbling, and shuffling, they started down the four stairwells
at the corners of the lounge area, and the larger one that wound around the two
central elevator columns. Two lift chimes sounded almost simultaneously, the doors
sliding open to reveal the suited ten Stewards, some standing on the pallet movers
because of the limited room. They slowly rolled them out into the shifting crowd.
Mirikami now permitted passengers to use the lifts to ride down
to deck seven. He told them to stay there until the work on this deck was finished,
that it would be dangerous to return. Dillon was guiding and cajoling them all to
keep moving.
Mirikami motioned for the ten men to join him on the side of
the lounge where he had recently arrived. Their faceplates were unsealed, so he
spoke to them quietly, realizing as he did that he had forgotten another minor detail
that could prove fatal. There were so many tightropes to walk!
“Gentlemen, I must order you to switch off the suit radios immediately.
Tell me if any of you have transmitted, even if just to one another after attaching
your helmets?” He sincerely hoped not.
The scattered assurances were a tremendous relief. He explained
the Krall’s warning, and penalty for using radio. It turned out that Jake had mentioned
not using a radio, when they were pulling on their suits, though at the time they
didn’t understand the consequences if they talked to each other by suit radio anyway.
Using them inside the ship would probably block any external signal leakage, but
probably wasn’t good enough to risk lives.
Mirikami told them that they would want to close the helmets
to avoid the smell, but would have to speak loud through the suit faceplates to
hear and be heard. If later they were exposed to vacuum, they’d have to rely on
hand signals, or helmet to helmet contact to communicate.
Accepting the stretchable suit Walters offered him, Mirikami
allowed two men to help him pull the arms and legs on, as he explained where they
were going and what had to be done. Then, leaving his faceplate open, and shutting
off his own radio, he led the procession along the corridors until the isolated
woman’s body came into view.
“Gentlemen, this is but a sample of what lies around the corner
ahead. If you can stand the smell leave your helmet open. Otherwise close up and
shout to be heard.”
“I want Rigson and Jakkobski,” he pointed to them, “to look around
the other corridors and elsewhere on this deck, and inside cabins to find any other
bodies. If you ask Jake for help in the search, use transducers only, and
never
around watchers.” He paused.
“Yes Sir,”
was the instant response.
“Respond only to crew when they are apparently unobserved by
intruders, and warn them if you think they are watched, and if you can do so without
revealing yourself. Understood Jake?”
“Rigson, Jakkobski, report back to this main group when you finish,
where ever we are. The rest of us will be loading the pallets, as high as we dare,
to move the dead as quickly as we can.”
After the “Aye Aye’s” they split up to complete the tasks. It
took almost thirty minutes to load all the dead and parts in that charnel house
of a corridor. Rigson found one more body in a cabin, where a woman had apparently
tried to hide in a closet. Her skull had been smashed in.
Jakkobski reported two other dead, lying on chairs that had remolded
themselves into acceleration couches in a small snack area. One elderly man was
properly strapped in, and may have died from acceleration stresses. A younger man
near him with his throat cut appeared to have fallen back on his acceleration couch.
Jakkobski recalled that the younger man was the assistant to the older professor,
and perhaps had refused to leave him when the Krall came.
The bins were soon full of limbs and worse, bodies were stacked,
and concealing tarps were spread. Two cleaning bots were activated to clean the
mess in the corridor, but it was evident that more were needed if they were to finish
soon enough.
Except for the blood and excrement streaks, which they had been
unable to scoop up, the worst was out of view, although the smell had not abated
greatly. That was the moment Noreen and her repair team came into view around the
curve of the outer corridor ring. They were looking for the compartment where the
door had blown into the corridor. A Krall patch on the hull opening in that compartment
needed to be reinforced.
They pulled up abruptly, seeing all the blood, and finally understanding
why that vile odor had been increasing as they approached this area. Noreen had
forgotten, or perhaps repressed, the memory of which deck and corridor had been
on the grisly view screen.
Mirikami, popping open his faceplate, called out, “Commander
Renaldo, we are about to remove the bodies to the main cargo hold, just as Parkoda
directed. We have two bots working on the cleaning, and more are coming, but that
may take some time. The air handlers here are on high filtration, but the odor is
daunting. As you can see, we all donned soft suits to tolerate this. If you have
other areas to repair, you can return to this later.”
He was aware that the smell was less powerful now, but he suspected
the four new arrivals couldn’t appreciate the improvement.
Noreen answered, “Captain, deck 7 is next, and I believe it was
also one of the places…, like this.” She gestured down the corridor and at the four
covered pallet movers.” He saw her swallow, and even at a distance of thirty feet
or so, detected the effort she was making to hold down the same reflex that had
overtaken Dillon earlier, as well as several of his Stewards.
“Commander, There is a dispensary one radial companionway behind
you. You can obtain light masks, and menthol or similar scented cream to detract
from the odor. The bots and air filtering will have this area more passable in another
fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you
Sir, We’ll do that.” Gratefully they turned back to find the mentioned dispensary.
Repositioning the bots to first work on Noreen’s return path
and the spattered wall opposite the blown compartment door, Mirikami led the men
back to the lifts. He first confirmed that no passengers had wandered back to this
deck. The loaded movers had to go singly, one per lift with just two men each. They
activated the non-stop function to go all the way down to the cargo bay. After returning,
the second two movers went down. Then the remaining crewmembers used a single lift,
after Mirikami had ordered the other messy lift held at the cargo bay. It wouldn’t
be a good idea to let some passenger see that.
Leaving four men to unload the movers, they obtained several
more cleaning bots, and headed back for deck 8. This was no simple job, and Mirikami
feared they were running out of time. A complete clean up, to ease the shock on
the passengers, was probably going to have to wait.
Noreen and her people were busy at the patch job when they returned
with the extra bots. Mirikami congratulated them on the ingenuity of using
table tops as hull patches, and told them he was about to move down to deck 7 to
remove those bodies. He recommended they work on even lower decks next. There were
apparently just three remaining holes to patch.
Mirikami used a wall com set to call down to deck 7, and asked
the woman that answered to please have Doctor Martin come to the phone.
Dillon must have been close. The “Yes Captain?” came back in
a few seconds. He could actually hear an echo of his voice up the stairs.
“Dillon, this has been a horrible mess, and we need to work on
that deck next. The lifts are too gory to let anyone even see them for now, and
the floors up here will have to be cleaned before we allow anyone to return. We
need to get the rest of the dead into the hold as soon as possible, or Parkoda may
step in and push things. I don’t want our people to see what was done to the victims.
It might cause a panic, and certainly will stir feelings that we need calmed right
now. Can you head everyone down to deck 6 and 5, as quickly as possible? Tell them
it’s an emergency, which it will certainly become if the Krall think we are stalling.
It will be crowded, but there are no piles of dead in outer corridors, so they can
spread out, even sit in the various cabins.”
“I’ll do my best Sir. I can try to get them to use the outer
four stairwells, so that you might be able to use one or both lifts to get out to
where you, uh…, have to work.” Obviously, other ears were close by.
“Right,” agreed Mirikami, “as soon as the area by the lifts are
opened up, we can take the movers straight across to the first hall quickly and
limit what they can see. Perhaps cover the movers with clean tarps. I’ll think of
something, just get them moving.”
“Unlock all passenger cabins, and disable the locks. We need
the room for people to spread out on decks 6 and 7, and even other decks. I don’t
want people locking themselves in, and we will have to take inventory eventually
of what we have for common use. Understand?”
“Captain,
are they allowed to close doors?” Jake asked.
“Yes Jake. Closed doors provide privacy, but the Krall don’t
have to blast them open if not locked, as I note they did on some evacuated cabins.”
Mirikami turned back to his men. “Ah, yes. I was asking about
hiding what we are moving, in case someone takes a peek.”
One of the Stewards, Gioni Ribaldi, offered a suggestion. “Sir,
we have linens and table cloths in storage closets on each passenger deck, and there
are some just around the corner. The table cloths are Smart Fabric and proof against
spills and stains.”
“Excellent, Gioni. A couple of you help him grab the tablecloths.
We can cover the base of the pallet movers, and hang some on the cargo pad hooks
on the lift walls, then lay some on the floors. At least the blood will not be as
visible. There isn’t a lot to do about our stained suits, unless there are any more
ideas?” He looked at them expectantly.
Gioni and Walter spoke nearly at the same time, both stopped
and looked at each other for a moment. Walter, as senior Steward, continued. “The
crew toilet on this deck has a three man shower, and a hose coupling for washing
and rinsing. The warm water and hose might get us clean enough, if we don’t mind
the wasted water. We were to refill at…”
Mirikami
cut him off. “Let’s do it.”
Ten minutes later they were presentable enough for viewing from
across a room, though not close up. The four movers had returned from the cargo
hold while they sprayed off their suits in quick shifts.
This time there were fewer dead to collect, perhaps sixteen,
the actual count as difficult as before, what with the gore, piled bodies and
loose limbs. Mirikami recalled that this was where he had seen Doctor Fisher standing,
as the black cloud had enveloped her petit figure, arms held high. She wasn’t here,
so she evidently survived. Perhaps her cool and brave example had inspired others
to do the same, possibly saving more lives.
They set to their task, more prepared than the first time. Two
men went off to search for bodies elsewhere, and found the unfortunate mother and
son, who had died during the markings.
Mirikami accompanied his men to the cargo hold, and felt a fresh
bout of horror and sickness at two piles of bodies. The first stack, having risen
too high for the men to pile them any higher, had become two piles, with bins and
plastic tubs holding indescribable things that would not stack. Fresh spots of effluvium
marked the places where his men had mimicked Doctor Martin’s earlier visceral reaction.
Mirikami, who had shared the unpleasant task he’d asked of his
men, had fouled his just cleaned suit again. This time he was first to use the crew
shower at this level, using hot water to clean off as much as possible. When he
stepped out, he faced the gathered Stewards.