A shrug and a “No problem, sir,” was Edro’s only response when the question was put to him. “A reader is basically an electronic decoder, changing the alignment of the crystal’s matrix into readable text. Toj and I can breadboard a transmitter that’ll just intercept the signal on its way to the screen and transmit it to wherever you want. How about to another reader in your stateroom, Doctor?”
Ro-Lecton nodded excitedly. “That’d be wonderful, Lieutenant,” he enthused.
Kas cleared his throat. “Uh, Doctor, wouldn’t it be more useful to copy the contents of the Rekesh ’s crystals to some of our own? I mean, transmit the signal to some sort of recorder? That way you’d have a permanent copy.” He paused. “In fact, we could just have someone run each crystal through the reader/transmitter without bothering to read it. Then you could sort through the copies later.” He shrugged. “It’d get you working much sooner. Sheol, by the time your entire team is suit-qualified, you could know just about everything the Rekesh ’s medical staff had done. You wouldn’t be covering ground that’s been covered before.”
Ro-Lecton bounced to his feet. “Yes! Do you think we can really do that, Lieutenant?” Kas struggled to suppress a smile. Gone was the superior, supercilious air the little med tech had displayed since his awakening. This Ro-Lecton was pure scientist. His tone had been plaintive, almost pleading.
Edro flushed with embarrassed pleasure and nodded. “Y-Yes sir. That should be no problem at all!”
And it wasn’t. It took Toj and Edro less than three hours to rig a transmitter to be fitted to the reader in the bio lab and turn another reader into a combination receiver/recorder.
Ro-Lecton’s thanks were so heartfelt and effusive that even the stolid Engineer flushed with embarrassment.
Kas shook his head. He realized that he was seeing the real, the original Ro-Lecton — Ro-Lecton as he’d been before he’d been tricked into an administrative and political position. This Ro-Lecton was pure scientist — intrigued by a professional problem and totally focused on its solution. Dignity, pecking orders and lines of authority were no longer important to the little man — he had a real problem to solve, and could hardly wait to get started.
Kas wondered what Ro-Lecton’s team would think of the Mark II version of the little doctor.
Tera volunteered to suit up and run the crystals through the reader/transmitter in the bio lab. Ro-Lecton refused to let anyone else tend the receiving/recording unit.
In the meantime, the rest of the crew was equally busy. Gran was awakening the medical team as quickly as possible and shuttling them to Jane and Lar for suit training. Toj was busy bringing space suits from storage and preparing them for use. Edro was helping Toj whenever he wasn’t busy with communication or comp work. That left Kas and Rom to begin exploring the Vir Rekesh. Kas had realized when speaking to Ro-Lecton that they really didn’t know whether or not the entire ship was open to space. Fan-Jertril’s companions may not have shared his idealistic heroism. So, as soon as possible, he and Rom suited up and each took one of the remaining two personnel locks.
He needn’t have worried. Both locks were open, and contained a suited corpse.
Kas breathed a huge sigh of relief when Rom reported that the last personnel lock was open to space. “All right, Rom. Meet me at the hangar bay. According to Fan-Jertril, that’s where they put the rest of the bodies; and Ro-Lecton’s going to start screaming for bodies to autopsy as soon as his team is ready.”
The huge black maw of the hangar deck opening was large enough to easily swallow Starhopper. The hangar deck occupied almost an entire level at the ship’s widest point. In effect it nearly split her in half and created an open area of nearly 200,000 square meters. “Open” was a relative term, of course. The Rekesh ’s hangar deck was occupied by nearly a hundred Wasp and Strengl fighters. It also contained an assortment of other craft — from the Admiral’s barge and Captain’s gig to atmosphere craft, some designed for combat and others merely as transports of various types.
But Kas wasn’t interested in the Rekesh ’s cargo of lethality. He was looking for a cargo net, probably stretched near a personnel airlock leading from the hangar bay. Sick men and women moving sometimes dismembered and often decomposing corpses were unlikely to be choosy. They’d rig the cargo net as near the lock as possible.
It was there, of course. In the inky blackness the pools of light from their helmet lights revealed a huge net stretched against the hangar bulkhead. The net bulged with its grisly cargo. Arms, legs, and even heads protruded grotesquely through the net’s mesh.
Familiar as he was with death, the ghastly contents of the net made Kas shudder. The bodies were frozen, perfectly preserved as they were when Captain Fan-Jertril decompressed the hangar deck. Some were still contorted in the agony their wounds had inflicted. Others appeared to be merely sleeping peacefully. Quite a number were missing limbs, but plas bags were tied to a number of the bodies. Kas assumed the bags contained body parts.
There was little blood, though there was much bloodstained clothing and skin. When the bodies had been brought here life support had been functioning. They’d been carried or dragged here. What bleeding there had been was only a result of moving the bodies. Kas was sure that the passages leading to that nearby hatch would be black with dried blood stains. But there were none of the large globules of drifting, frozen blood that he’d half expected.
Kas saw Rom turn away with a sick expression visible even through his helmet. He, himself was struggling to suppress a strong urge to throw up. He reminded himself that vomiting in space suits is not recommended.
He turned and shuddered again. “Let’s get out of here, Rom. If Ro-Lecton wants any of these cadavers he can come get them himself.”
Rom obviously agreed, though he made no reply. He merely kicked hard off the bulkhead, sailing across the cavernous hangar deck as though speed could relieve the horror. Kas knew that the action was irrational — but he kicked off just as hard. He’d seen death before, of course. As a junior officer he’d more than once had to gather bodies and body parts after accidents or skirmishes. But three thousand bodies, many of them scarred or dismembered, and most decomposed to at least some extent, was simply too much.
Rom was silent for a long time as they made their way back to Starhopper. Finally he said in a dull voice, “Commodore, I request to be assigned to Starhopper for the return trip.”
Kas frowned. “Why? You’re a Fleet officer; you’ve seen death before.”
Rom shook his head. “I’ve seen death,” he agreed. “And I’ve done my share of killing. But this… this is a death ship, sir. There’s evil here!”
“Nonsense!” Kas roared. “There’s no evil here. Evil requires purpose. A plague is purposeless — a natural disaster. It just is.”
He paused. “Certainly bad things happened here. There was mutiny and riot and cowardice and horror. But it was the all-too-human result of three thousand frightened people facing certain death. I will not tolerate talk that undermines discipline and panders to rank superstition. You will keep any such opinions to yourself. Is that clear?”
Rom’s face looked strained behind his suit’s faceplate. “Yes, sir. But I still request assignment to Starhopper for the return trip.”
Kas shrugged. “And you may be assigned to Starhopper, if that’s where I decide to put you. But you are a Fleet officer. You will serve where you are needed.” He glowered at the other man. “Damn it Rom, I didn’t expect this kind of nonsense from you! I need you too badly to have you go into some kind of funk just because you’ve seen some bodies. I don’t have time to pamper a prima donna. Now, get hold of yourself!”