Symphony of Destruction (The Spindown Saga, #1) Read online

  “After you!” Colin offered, with a sweep of his arm. “But watch your head!” The hatch was low. Good thing he had said that. It was just the perfect level to trick you into not seeing it, then smashing your head.

  Hannah entered the pod and sat in the first seat on the right. Colin entered and sat across from her. Brother Anderson remained in the corridor. It was unclear whether he would have fit through the tight corner and small hatch if he had wanted to.

  Chapter 61

  Colin stared at Hannah, seated across from him in the escape pod. He had a strange sense of deja vu, although, neither of them had ever been here before. It probably had something to do with his daydream a few minutes ago - shooting off with Hannah to hideout in a backwater colony and starting a new life - a simple life. It could start right here, in this pod. But what was he thinking?! He could barely even talk to her. His palms were sweaty now, with anticipation. He assumed she was pissed. She had sounded fairly even-keeled out in the corridor, but he knew she could turn on a dime. He prepared to get his head ripped off.

  “So, I’ve been talking to Brother Anderson,” she began, glancing through the hatchway at the robot doctor, then back across the pod toward Colin, locking his eyes. “He tells me that you risked your life for me.”

  “Umm...” Colin didn’t know how to respond. Had he? He hadn’t really thought of it that way. But in a way that was sort of true. But even if it were, what would he say. What was Hannah expecting him to say? Was this some sort of accusation? He remained silent for a moment, and Hannah continued.

  “He tells me that when you were outside, and you got my oboe back for me, something happened that put you in danger?”

  “Yeah...” he agreed hesitantly, “you could say that.”

  “And also when you came to get me from mess hall?”

  “What? Oh, well, not really.”

  Brother Anderson interjected, “Colin, you intentionally detonated an uncontrolled explosion of unknown magnitude, then proceeded to leap through a burning wall of flame into an unseen area.”

  “Well I guess if you put it that way...” Colin laughed. For a second Hannah smiled. Colin tried to avoid her gaze, but felt his own drawn inexorably toward it, and soon restored eye contact. Damn, she was beautiful. Her dark hair fell across her forehead and down, partially obscuring her blue-green eyes in a way that somehow seemed to hold all the mysteries of the universe. Colin was spacing out a bit, he realized. He felt lost in those eyes. Had seconds elapsed?

  “Why?” Hannah’s question broke him out of the spell.

  “Why?”

  “Yes, why? Why risk your life for me?”

  “It’s nothing. Anybody would. It’s just what you do. When someone is in danger.”

  “Hmm, well... maybe. Sure if their life is in danger I guess maybe. If they are a good person.”

  “If who is a good person? The person in danger? Or the one putting themselves in danger?”

  “Hmm, yes. Exactly.”

  “So are we good people then?”

  “I’m beginning to think we might be.” Hannah smiled, and this time, so did Colin. There was a moment’s pause before Hannah continued. “So... what about Suzzanne? She was a good person too wasn’t she?”

  Colin nodded slowly, “Yeah, she was, I think.”

  “But did you treat her that way?”

  “Well... I guess not. I didn’t get a chance, before...”

  “Didn’t get a chance?”

  “Yeah. To apologize.”

  “For what?”

  “Come on. You know already.”

  “What was it you did to her? Did you slip her a roofie and try to grope her on the dancefloor?”

  “What?! No! Wait - was that what it was made out to be? That’s not...”

  Colin clumsily explained to Hannah what happened that night on the dance floor with Tommy and Stef and Suzzanne. As he did so, misunderstanding turned into understanding, and, as she began to let go of the anger and bitterness she had held for him, a long-sustained tension left Hannah, as if she were slipping off a heavy backpack. Subconsciously, she rolled her shoulders to stretch into a newfound freedom. Colin wrapped up his story.

  “I did feel really bad about the whole thing though. I wanted to talk to Suzzanne about it, but I didn’t think she would want to talk to me. Still, I was trying to work up the nerve, and then days passed, and then, well, that was when all hell broke loose.”

  A light dawned in Hannah’s memory; Colin’s voice reverberating, ‘I was too afraid, too ashamed.’

  “Oh shit! You were ashamed of being too afraid to talk to her, to apologize!”

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  Hannah broke into a strange mixture of laughter and crying. She rolled out of her seat, stumbled across the pod, and sat beside Colin, half leaning on him with one arm across his shoulder in what might have been the most awkward hug in history. Her emotions were contagious, and Colin too found himself sobbing, although he had not yet figured out why, or what exactly he was feeling, or really what was going on.

  Chapter 62

  They sat in the pod a long time; talking, laughing, talking some more. Hannah and Brother Anderson informed Colin about their passage out of the communications shadow. Colin was surprised that Brother Anderson had told Hannah first, but he wasn’t upset at all about it. On the contrary, he thought he caught a sly look from Brother Anderson, indicating that everything had all gone according to plan.

  In a way it had, which was strange to think, given that the ship was in ruins, and they were surrounded by chaos and death. But honestly, Colin felt happy - maybe more so than he ever had - sitting here talking to Hannah.

  “So? What will we tell them?” she asked, referring to the communication back to fleet command. The three all took turns looking at each other. Finally, Brother Anderson broke the silence.

  “It may not be in our best interest to divulge very much information. Especially not until we can better assess the stability of the ship after the required course correction.”

  Colin watched Hannah as the robot spoke. He sensed an unspoken question. Or rather, he sensed that there was something about the implications of the robot’s comment that escaped her.

  “We need to make a course correction to curve around from the asteroid orbit, to an eccentric solar orbit,” he began. Of course, she knew that. Every school child learned the basics of solar and planetary navigation, though the actual geometries involved were too specialized for general consumption, and were therefore reserved for in-depth analysis relevant to chosen profession. What she may not know was the correlation between the thrust required to make the navigational correction, and the structural integrity of the ship. “Once we initiate that maneuver, there is a high risk that... well, there’s no easy way to say this... The ship might not survive the maneuver.”

  Now the slight confusion on Hannah’s face was replaced by confusion and no small amount of alarm. Her jaw hung open, and her eyes darted between Colin and Brother Anderson, who decided that perhaps Colin’s explanation was lacking a certain subtlety, and that perhaps the touch of a more qualified counselor was called for.

  “If I may, it’s not quite as dire as it sounds. We are very well prepared for emergency evacuation, and there is very little risk of actual harm to our persons. We will be OK, Hannah. The biggest risk is loss of cargo. Essentially though, the cargo is the primary focus of the mission, so the mission of the ship is in jeopardy. It is for that reason that caution is advised in exactly what details to communicate to Central Operations Fleet Command Center.”

  “Oh. So... You are saying we should lie to them, so they don’t think we screwed up their mission and hold us responsible?”

  “Well, that is somewhat of an oversimplification but it essentially does correspond to my concerns. Right now, fleet command knows nothing about the ship’s status. They have received no reports since we entered the shadow nearly a year ago.”

  “So they don’t know that the c
rew is dead.”

  “Correct. They also don’t know that there were any survivors.”

  “But they will find the ship’s remains eventually,” Colin interjected, “and even if we’re not here, they’ll track the logs, and they’ll know we survived. Then they’ll come looking for us.”

  “Exactly,” agreed the robot.

  “Surely they can’t punish us for surviving!?” Hannah refused to believe the implication.

  “Not for surviving, no. But for failing to accomplish the mission, perhaps. There is precedent for such a response. It is not public record, but there have been similar occurrences in recent years. Surviving crewmen have been held personally responsible after loss of cargo, which resulted in forfeiture of wages due to mission failure.”

  Both Hannah and Colin responded in minor outrage, Hannah with “that’s ludicrous!” and Colin with “I knew it!”

  “The legal grounds for these scenarios are entirely controvertible, and the previous cases were appealed of course, but these appeals merely resulted in lengthy and very expensive battle through the judicial systems. It becomes a war of attrition - a very one-sided one though, since, comparatively speaking, the opponents are not on a level playing field in terms of the ability to fund such a war.”

  “Yeah, as if any private citizen has any hope of out-spending the Ventas-Calir corporation’s lawyer budget!” Colin shook his head.

  “I cannot in good conscious allow either of you to be put into that position. It would be completely unethical.”

  “So what then. If the cargo fails, will you tell them we died in the maneuver?”

  “I was thinking it would be best to not mention your presence at all, at least until we complete the maneuver successfully.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “The report could be written in such a way that it states that the crew has been killed, but focuses more on the physical and operational status.”

  Colin thought about that. It could work. He was no expert on the art of operational communications, but he had seen more than a few reports of the type. Mission status updates were always forwarded to all crew-members. Most didn’t bother to read them, but Colin usually scanned them at least. He liked to know the basic gist of how operations were proceeding, so that he could assist Bryce with determining preventative maintenance schedules and system repair downtimes. Such planning was actually the chief’s job, of course, not his. But Bryce valued Colin’s input on such matters. Colin had sometimes wondered if the chief had been grooming Colin for a succession plan. It seemed a bit silly to think that; surely the fleet had more mid-level management track engineers, but here on the Ventas-341 there was a large experience gap. Most of the engineering crew were young, with limited experience, and even more limited aspirations. Aside from them, there was one mid-career guy who was the laziest son of a bitch Colin had ever met. At any rate, he had read enough system reports to be able to pick out the automated ones from the handwritten. The CSO handled the majority of such reports, and they tended to read a bit dry compared to the ones written by a human crew member. Automated probably wasn’t the right word, as the CSO appeared to actually compose each report from scratch, they were all slightly different, not just a cut and paste job. But still, they tended to sound a bit “roboty” if that was a word. If a robotic CSO were left to compose the upcoming report, it would not be out of character for that report to miss certain human factors, and focus on cold, pragmatic facts. And in the case of a loss of crew, the report would obviously HAVE to be handled by the CSO.

  “Brother, I think this idea of yours just might work.”

  Chapter 63

  MessageHeader=MTC-LRC.4029571.396823

  Timestamp=567.3467.23.783

  OriginatingVessel=VENTAS_CALIR.CS45.VENTAS-341

  SubmittedBy=CRS.05623928.ACTING_CSO

  Progress=PAYLOADON.RET.CORNAV

  Requirements=NAV_CONF

  Status = AMBER/RED

  Hanna and Colin watched the pod’s main terminal as Brother Anderson composed the message data.

  “That’s the easy part done,” he spoke out loud. “Now for the body, I’m thinking something along the lines of...”

  More data appeared on the screen:

  IssuesList:

  _ID01

  _DESC=CREW_LOST

  _SEV=RED

  _ACTION=N/A

  _ID02

  _DESC=NAV_CONF

  _SEV=AMBER

  _ACTION=’navigational coordinates confirmation required’

  _ID03

  _DESC=HULL_DMG

  _SEV=RED

  _ACTION=N/A

  _ID04

  _DESC=PAYLOAD

  _SEV=AMBER

  _ACTION=’bulk payload loss imminent RISK=RED’

  _ID05

  _DESC=FUEL/SUPPLIES

  _SEV=GREEN

  _ACTION=N/A

  “How does that look?” He addressed them both, but they both knew he was really talking to Colin. Colin twisted his mouth, read the screen, glanced at Hannah, then back at the screen.

  “Seems pretty good I guess.”

  “Any thoughts Hannah?” the robot asked.

  “Uh, no not really. Except... that Action line, ’navigational coordinates confirmation required,’ does that mean... are we lost?”

  “Oh that? No. We aren’t lost. That’s just standard boilerplate stuff,” Colin reassured her. “It’s just that standard operations protocol insists on a coordinate check before and after any major course change. It’s a safety thing, designed more for crowded shipping lanes, to avoid collisions and that kind of thing. Still, even way out here in no man’s land, it is quite useful. A slight miscalculation can end up costing days or even weeks of travel time and fuel. It never hurts to get a second opinion.”

  “Except when time is of the essence,” piped in Brother Anderson.

  “Which it isn’t,” said Colin. What was the robot implying? Did he have that little trust in the ship’s remaining integrity? And if so, why wouldn’t he have discussed it with Colin instead of making an insinuation like that. It annoyed Colin more than a little, but also disturbed him. It was time for him to do another thorough inspection of his own. “How long will it take to get a reply anyway, would you figure?”

  “Best case scenario around six hours, but it depends on a number of factors, only some of which I have current data for. It could be up to twelve hours, or even longer.”

  “So in six to twelve hours we should expect to get the reply, including the coordinates. Then what?” Hannah asked.

  “Then we should initiate our emergency protocols and begin the course correction maneuver as soon as possible.” answered Colin, shooting Brother Anderson a dirty look as he accented the last four words.

  Brother Anderson ignored it, instead asking, “So are we all in agreement then? Regarding the message, that is. Shall I send it?”

  Colin and Hannah exchanged a somewhat nervous look, but one which included a resigned nod.

  “Send it,” they both answered in unison.

  Chapter 64

  Brother Anderson excused himself, citing some lame excuse or another. Something in the med bay he had to check.

  Hannah looked at Colin.

  “I guess we are officially dead.”

  “Huh?” Colin took a moment to engage his brain. “Oh yeah, right. What was it? ‘Crew lost, severity red, no action required.’”

  “Yes, something like that,” agreed Hannah.

  “Well I guess no one will come looking for us then.”

  “So we won’t have to worry about going to prison or whatever. But... Colin, what will happen to us? Will we be stuck on this ship forever? It’s not much better than prison in some ways.”

  “What? No - of course not! Look at this pod! It will take us somewhere safe.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “There are a few mining outposts around here. I was thinking about this earlier actually. Maybe we could hole up somewhere out here an
d make a comfy little hideaway to live out our days.”

  “Oh you’ve been thinking about this, have you?” She teased. Colin did have feelings toward her. She could see that now. And she didn’t mind him knowing that just maybe, she might be OK with that fact. But she couldn’t give up the chance to make him squirm just a little bit.

  “Well, I...” Colin started to defend his intentions.

  Hannah laughed at his awkwardness and pushed him over on the seat, then he too chuckled at himself.

  “Are you going to sweep me off to some desert island or lock me up in some tower to keep me safe?” She was mock beating him now with balled fists hammering down upon his shoulder in slow motion.

  “I would never put you in a tower! But an island might be nice!”

  “It might, actually. If it has a nice beach.”

  “Of course it has to have a nice beach.”

  “And fancy shops!”

  “Yeah.” The cold truth hit Colin. Survival in the mining colonies was not a simple matter. They would miss the amenities. Life out here was hard and dirty. He’d have to work hard, for a lot less pay than he was used to. His face turned somber. Even worse, these places were not the safest for a young woman. They would tend to be full of creeps and cretins. Tommy would look like a saint next to this lot. Perhaps the tower option was a necessary evil. No. They would have to stay away from the concentrated populations. But that was pretty much impossible. It’s not as though you could go carve out a place for yourself in the wilderness. This wasn’t earth. There was no readily sustaining natural environment, with food and water and fuel and building materials lying around just waiting for humanity to come along.

  What was he getting himself into? He was lying to Hannah, to make her feel safe, but she was not safe. She would not be safe. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. They were on their own on the fringes of civilization. A civilization that was not entirely pleasant, and less so around the edges. She hadn’t seen the dark underbelly of mankind - its sharp teeth and grasping claws. Its insatiable hunger. Its utter coldness. Part of him wanted to weep. For humanity. For Hannah.