"We’ll ask her at the court-martial," Festina said. "Right now we have to figure out what’s beendamaged, what the runaway program did…"
The Pollisand’s eyes flared brightly. "I can tell you that. It overrode the safeguards on Captain’s Last Act."
"Oh shit!" Festina and Aarhus said in unison.
"What is Captain’s Last Act?" I asked.
Festina’s face looked pained. "If a crew is forced to abandon ship, it’s the final command a captain gives… to make it impossible for outsiders to learn military secrets if they capture our equipment. Captain’s Last Act means—"
The room lights suddenly went out.
"Doing some drastic Science thing that breaks all the ship’s machines?" I asked.
"Good guess," Festina said.
Shutdown
The room had not been noisy — the computers operated with quiet hums rather than ventilatory hiss. But when the lights went out, the sound level dropped to complete silence, as soft whirs and purrs faded to nothingness. The gentle breeze caused by the ship’s air circulation system grew still. A moment later, within the cores of all the machines, trickles of fluid began to drip, drip, drip, as if the circuits were bleeding.
"Look on the bright side," Aarhus said in the blackness. "At one time, the Admiralty wanted Captain’s Last Act to cause a total self-destruct. Fortunately, the League wouldn’t let navy ships sail around with their bellies full of explosive."
"So," Festina said, "instead of blowing ourselves up, we get to freeze in the dark. Goody."
A light clicked on from the direction of her voice. My friend held a thin wand that gave off a bright silver shine; the beam reflected off my hands, so that when I moved my arms, little patches of silver flashed across the floors and ceiling.
"I see you came prepared, Admiral," Aarhus said.
"In rank, I’m an admiral," Festina told him, "but at heart, I’m an Explorer. I don’t go anywhere without a chemically powered light, a first-aid kit, and twenty meters of rope."
"Same things I carry on a first date." Aarhus dropped his gaze to the floor and asked, "Why do we still have gravity? The Higgs generators are surely off-line."
"They’re more than off-line," Festina said. "The whole grav system is now a steaming pile of slag. Why do we have gravity?"
"Oh for heaven’s sake," the Pollisand grumped. "Don’t you know anything about your own ship?"
"Not really," Festina replied. "The navy likes to keep Explorers uninformed about ship operations — otherwise, we might realize how incompetent the regular crew members are."
"Same with Security," Aarhus said. "We only guard the ship, we don’t push the buttons."
"And you wonder why your species hasn’t evolved farther." The Pollisand raised his eyes heavenward in exasperation. The eyes cast dancing red glows across the dark ceiling. "Listen," he said, turning back to us, "just because your gravity generators go poof doesn’t mean your gravity field does too. The field dissipates gradually — like heat when you turn off a furnace. Ten hours from now, you and your gear will be floating off the floor, but it doesn’t happen all at once."
"Thank God for small mercies," Festina muttered. "And speaking of mercy," she said to the Pollisand, "I don’t suppose a technically brilliant entity like yourself would help resurrect some of Hemlock’s basic ops?"
"Never!" said the Pollisand in shocked tones. "How will you lesser creatures learn to take care of yourselves if you don’t face the consequences of your actions? Hardship builds character… and I’m sure you’ll build a lot in the next few hours. Ta-ta, y’all."
He lifted a front paw high and flipped off a salute from where his forehead would have been if he possessed one. A moment later, his body exploded into a million pinpricks of light; they scattered in all directions, making zings and whistles as they disappeared through the walls. Then the room fell quiet again, with a conspicuous absence of Pollisand where he had just been standing.
"Ooo," said Festina. "Showy."
We all nodded silently.
Knock-Knock
Our contemplative silence was interrupted by a crashing noise from the other side of the computer bank. In the blink of an eye, Festina dived to the ground, rolled along the tiles, and ended on her feet again. Her hands came up clenched into fists. Somewhere during her dive, she had dropped the glow-wand; it lay a short distance from her feet, casting strong upward shadows across her features.
The sound came again: a smash that echoed through the quiet computer room. Festina grabbed up the light and disappeared around the bank of dead machines. The sergeant and I ran after her; we were just turning the corner when we heard a third kaboom. It was someone battering against the closed door to the hallway, an unknown person trying to bash through. Already the door had a conspicuous bend in it, though it was made of metal and appeared to be moderately thick.
One more whump and the top of the door snapped out of its frame. It sagged slightly inward, but not far enough to reveal who was hammering on the other side. I quickly assumed an aggressive stance in case the intruders should prove to be enemies — perhaps the Shaddill had invaded the ship now that we had no defenses. Festina, however, had put down her fists, and Aarhus was making no effort to prepare for attack. They simply stood warily, clear of the doorway, waiting for whoever came through.
Something struck the door with a fierce thud. The mangled metal could not withstand this final impact — it collapsed completely, propelled by a muscular body that fell forward with the door onto the floor tiles.
Lajoolie looked up, blinking in the beam of Festina’s light. Behind her, Uclod and Dr. Havel peeked around the edge of the door frame; the watery-eyed physician held a shining wand exactly like Festina’s. Smiling down at Lajoolie, Havel said, "Nothing like a Tye-Tye, ha-ha, when you have to make a house call. Someone reported a poisoning?"
Medical Matters
The doctor hurried off to examine the woman in brown… or perhaps I should call her Zuni, though I do not know if she deserves to be dignified with a name. This Zuni was a spy and saboteur; I did not quite understand what she had tried to do or what she accomplished instead, but the end result was readily apparent. There was no light in the hallway, and no machinery sounds either. "It appears," said I, "this vessel has slain itself."
"Yes," Havel called from the other side of the computer bank, "the Hemlock has taken hemlock, ha-ha."
If that was a joke, no one laughed. I asked, "Do all starships have suicidal tendencies? Because I have only ridden in two such vessels, and both have killed themselves within hours of my coming on board. This constitutes a Disturbing Pattern… and I should like to point out I am not to blame."
"Don’t get defensive," Festina said, patting my shoulder. "If anyone here is a trouble magnet, it’s me."
She turned to check on the others. Uclod was helping Lajoolie stand up after bashing the door. He did not provide much practical assistance — since his head only came to her wallabies, he could not actually pull her up to her full height — but she held on to his hand anyway and tried not to look too encumbered by him as she got to her feet.
"Are you okay, sweetie?" Uclod asked. His voice had a ragged edge to it and his eyes were ringed with red, but it seemed he had finished weeping over his grandmother… at least for the moment. Lajoolie did not answer the little man’s question, but she pressed his hand softly to her stomach.