Tundra 37 (4 page)

The shaft bent at a right angle, and he hauled himself over the edge, catching his breath. The blueprint on his miniscreen shone fluorescent green into the darkness. He’d reached halfway. The cold wire rubbed against his stomach as he crawled over the cables. He used the screen to light the shaft ahead, casting a ghostly glow on old spider webs and rat nests, the offspring of the test subjects taken on the
Expedition
in the first generation. The sides of the shaft pressed in on him. He groped with his arm to judge the distance. Had it been this narrow before?

He checked his locator. One meter separated him and the place where the floor hovered close enough to blast through. The cables dug into his torso as he squeezed himself forward and the cold sank into his bones like a disease. His toes numbed and his fingers throbbed. Only three meters of metal separated him from deep space, and the Seers had cut off all heat to the outer decks. The temperature dropped every second he spent in the shaft.

The Seers’ voices came on his intercom, startling him.

“Lieutenant, turn around.”

He brought his arm up and squeezed the button on his lapel. “I’m following orders, evacuating the upper levels.”

The monotone voices buzzed back. “Deck eighty seven will collapse any minute. Return to the emergency chamber immediately. I repeat: turn around.”

Anger formed a boulder in his chest. He growled, “I can save them.”

The cold machine-women had no right to shut off human life, no matter what the consequences. Fury turned to determination, burning within him, keeping him warm. He slid on his elbows until he reached the end of the shaft. His readings reported the atmosphere holding stable. He dragged out his laser and fired up into the floor.

A warmer gush of air flowed in. Flashing red lights illuminated the ceiling of the fitness bay. Brentwood pulled himself up. If he read the miniscreen correctly, the upper deck had lost its pressure and the hull buckled above his head.

He moved to run, but his feet rose from the floor.

“Damn.” The Seers had shut down the gravity rings. What next? Lower the oxygen levels as well?

Bubbles of water from the pool jiggled in the air like giant amoebas. Brentwood flailed his arms as he floated out of control. He struggled to pull himself together, but the dizziness swimming in his head made it difficult.

Beeps cried out between each pulse of alarm, bringing him back to attention.

The three colonists. He had to reach them and get them to safety.

A pool net floated by and he lurched out his arm and grabbed onto it. He spun under the new weight, but regained balance. Swinging the pole, he caught a wall light. Pulling himself to the wall, hand over hand on the pole, he gripped the bulb. Using handholds along the wall, he worked his way to the distance track.

“Hello? Anyone in there?”

The alarm drowned out his words. He felt like the last survivor of a shipwreck, left to wander alone as it broke apart around him with no anchors to hold onto. The thought of being the only man still alive made his stomach wretch more than the light gravity. He didn’t even like working in an office by himself.

He checked the locator, and the green dots were larger.

“Hello?” His voice echoed down the bay.

He ducked as a hoverchair floated by in a meandering arc, sputtering as the thrusters flared out of control. The seat was upside down and vacant, straps dangling.

A screech echoed so loud he thought his ears would bleed. The ceiling warped under the decreasing pressure. Resisting the urge to panic, Brentwood kicked his legs against the wall and floated over the bright orange track.

Three people wearing white civilian jumpsuits floated in the corner next to the sealed portal. Two girls clutched each other, shivering, while a young man tampered with the portal panel.

One of the girls spotted him and waved him over. “Over here. We’re trying to get through.”

Brentwood yelled back. “You won’t make it.”

They didn’t hear him, or chose to ignore his comment.

Damn it. He kicked his legs like a swimmer in molasses, wishing he could run again. “You have to come back this way with me.”

As he drifted closer, one of the girls recognized his navy lieutenant’s uniform and pulled the boy back.

“Dammit, Daryl! We’re in trouble now.”

The boy swatted her away and pulled a clump of wires out of the wall. “I’ve almost got it.”

Brentwood ordered, “Don’t open it.”

The boy whirled around and glared with defiance. “I’m trying to get us out of here.”

Brentwood pulled himself within arm’s reach. “There’s no atmosphere on the other side. The Seers sealed the corridor.”

The smaller of the two girls covered her face with her hands. Her malformed legs hung limp in the air. Even with the Matchmaker’s double check on genetic calculations, birth anomalies still manifested. They could only tame so much of nature and the small genetic pool made it more difficult to keep each subsequent generation healthy. That’s why they had analysts like Gemme Reiner giving the cold computer analysis a double check with a human touch. Computers weren’t always perfect.

Brentwood made a point not to draw attention to her. Thank goodness for the zero gravity. He could never fit her hoverchair down the cable shaft.

He put a reassuring hand on her arm. “What’s your name, hon?”

She peeked from under a finger. “Vira. That’s my sister, Rizzy.”

Rizzy stared at him as if he’d flown them into the comets singlehandedly. “How are we going to get out?”

“Using an energy cable shaft. It’s a tight squeeze.” He looked at their boney bodies. “Anyone hurt?”

They shook their heads.

“Come on. We don’t have much time.”

They floated across the track like ghosts in a dead land. His emotions surged when he looked into their young faces. How could anyone leave them to die here? They had parents, brothers, sisters, and friends. They weren’t a math equation, not to him. He wondered if the Seers had discounted Vira because of her handicap. Maybe they thought she wouldn’t make it either way. Brentwood’s chest tightened. He’d make sure she survived, even if it meant staying behind himself. The Seers wouldn’t understand. They’d calculate it as an uneven trade. His anger surged, and he gritted his teeth together, focusing his energy on saving them.

They reached the hole he’d blasted through the floor. Brentwood handed Daryl his miniscreen.

“Use the screen to see ahead and watch out for a drop in four meters.”

“Yes, sir.” Daryl took the device and disappeared into the darkness. Brentwood nudged Rizzy down into the hole next, wondering how he’d get Vira through. He much rather hold her, but the narrow shaft prevented it.

“Hold onto my boots, and I’ll pull you through.”

“Okay.” The determination in her voice made him proud of her courage.

The metal ceiling screeched as Vira’s small fingers grabbed his ankles. He plunged into the hole, pulling Vira behind him. Soon the deck would cave under the pressure. He thought of calling on the Seers, but he knew they’d already done what they could. He would have to hustle the kids to the lower decks. Good thing the Seers seemed busy with saving the ship.

“Let’s go, guys. Be careful, but crawl as fast as you can.”

Rizzy squeaked in disgust. “There are rats down here.”

Brentwood tried to console her, “They’re harmless, just remnants of old experiments that managed to escape.”

She halted in front of him, his head stuck under her feet. Behind him, metal crumbled and a familiar gush of air blew by him as deep space sucked their atmosphere out. He didn’t want her to panic, so he tried a technique he used on his little brother to make him eat his vegetables.
Just think of the dessert in the end, little dude.

“Just think of being down on the safer decks. Being free.”

“I’d rather think of not being sucked into space,” she called back, half giggling, half crying.

He laughed. “That’s true too. Whatever works. Just keep going.”

The route back seemed longer than the climb in. The suction of air increased until Rizzy’s long hair stood out behind her like a cape, and he could feel his own wavy locks blown back so hard, he’d be left bald by the time they cleared the shaft.

“Vira, hold on tightly.”

He felt her unlace his boots and tie the strings around her wrists.

Vira shouted, “What’s wrong with the air?”

He whipped his head around, swallowed his misgivings and forced himself to wink. “Just a small leak. We’re almost there.”

When they reached the angle, the shaft widened, and Vira wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled himself and Vira down behind Daryl and Rizzy. They emerged from the laser hole into the corridor. The bright fluorescent lights reassured him, but his lungs worked harder to breathe the thin air. A steady gust pulled them backward and he clutched the portal panel, pulling them through against the suction.

“Brace yourselves against the portal frame.”

Once Rizzy and Daryl cleared the portal, he slammed his fist on the panel behind them and the particles rematerialized, sealing the remaining atmosphere in.

His ears rang in the silence. He stopped and drew a long breath of relief.

“What were you guys doing up there so early?”

Rizzy and Daryl looked away, but Vira whispered in his ear. “They were kissing.”

“Vira! Shut your mouth.” Rizzy’s neck reddened.

Vira climbed forward on his shoulders so he could see her face beside him. “It’s true. I caught them sneaking out, and I came to check on them.”

“It’s not right being paired up like animals,” Daryl spat out, bringing Rizzy close to him. “They never consider love. To hell with the Matchmaker. She can fall into a black hole.”

“Daryl!” Vira shouted. “He’s a lieutenant. He’ll turn you in.”

Daryl held onto Rizzy as if the hull puncture could still suck her out. “I don’t care. The ship’s going to hell anyway.”

Brentwood opened his mouth to lecture the young man on the
Expedition
’s manifesto in the Guide, like he’d done so many times in the past:
Lifers don’t have the luxury of choice. Our mission is to further the human species, and our survival depends on it. We must sacrifice our rights to provide for the next generation, to preserve the genetic code and prevent inbreeding and mutations.
But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Vira was proof the system didn’t always work, and he wasn’t about to mention anything about deformities in her presence. Thinking of the matchmaking system and the Seers shot a current of disquiet throughout his composure.

The Seers’ voices blared on the intercom, breaking the argument. “Comets cleared. Gravity restored.”

All four of them plunged to the floor. Vira landed on top of Brentwood, knocking the air out of his lungs. At least he had cushioned her fall.

Daryl groaned. “Aw, man. They could have given us more notice.”

Brentwood gave him a smile. “The Seers don’t consider extraneous details.”

“More like they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be human.” Daryl rubbed his knees and helped Rizzy up.

Brentwood chose to ignore him. Normally he’d call out such disloyalty, but his own misgivings about the Seers had crept into his mind. “Come on, guys, I have to get you to the safe chamber.”

He led them down the hall into the chamber below the biodome. When the portal dematerialized, colonists surged forward to take Vira. Daryl and Rizzy disappeared into the crowd. Brentwood searched the sea of fearful faces for the Matchmaker. Her heart-shaped face stood out from the crowd like a lover among strangers. She scrutinized him with a strange, knowing glance. He wanted to turn away, but he stood frozen in place, gazing back at her, memorizing the blue-gray mist of her eyes.

“Lieutenant, report to the control room immediately.” The Seers’ droning voices roused him from his reverie and he studied his lapel. Hadn’t he turned it off?

“Sorry, what was the order?”

“Report to the control room immediately.” Was there a hint of annoyance? Surely not. They were more computers than humans.

“The control room?” His skin prickled with the thought of meeting the Seers eye to eye.

“Affirmative.”

The silence weighed on his chest before he replied. With all the germs he carried, why would they sacrifice their own safety to speak to him in person? Did they want to reprimand him for disobeying orders, or did the comets damage the ship beyond repair? Either way, he’d best get up there, no matter how much their disembodied voices made him uneasy.

He pressed the communicator button. “Be there right away.”

Gemme froze as Brentwood’s gaze grasped hold of her, catching her staring like a child with her finger in the sugar crystallizer. Her first impulse urged her to look away, but a tantalizing curiosity arose, forcing her to confront her inner heart. What was his allure?

Brentwood glared down to his communicator. He spoke a few words and disappeared into the multitudes. Gemme resisted the urge to pursue him. Her feelings went against everything she’d ever learned, against her career, and the core of who she was. What was she thinking? Surely her irrational draw to him developed from the stressful circumstances of the comet shower. Her thoughts needed an anchor, and he climbed in, literally, at the right time.

Her logical mind kicked in. She regained her reasoning too late. He must think her some crazed, hormonal delinquent. She certainly couldn’t pair him with her now.

No one else noticed. The condition of the ship consumed their every thought. Her mind shot to her office. Deep space had ripped out a part of herself. Was it all gone? Her life’s work sprawling like cosmic dust through a black hole?

She noticed a fellow Lifer holding a miniscreen and jogged over to him, cutting her way through the throng. “Excuse me, sir. Can I have a look?”

He pressed his fingertip to the screen to shut off a personal message and handed it over. “Sure. Take a look for yourself if you want to. It’s not good.”

She’d already received a message on her locator from her parents and her brother. They were safe in a different chamber on the other side of the biodome. She brought up the schematics of the ship and dragged her finger across the screen to her quadrant.