“Sure?”
Jeff nodded and reported their position to Joanne. He also checked the tracking system on his handheld. A line indicated the route back to their quarters. Even if his own handheld failed, they could use Mac’s. The accelerometers in the devices seemed to be working accurately.
Mac marched ahead again, flashlight in hand. They hadn’t walked far when Jeff felt a cold draft on his neck. He spun round and peered into the darkness. Again he had the strange feeling of being watched. He got goose bumps and could practically feel a pair of invisible eyes on him.
“Mac!” he whispered.
“What?” his companion replied grumpily.
“Light!”
Without any urgency, Mac turned around and lit up the corridor behind them. It was empty. Some way off in the distance, Jeff could still see the bend in the diminishing beam of the flashlight.
He shook his head. “I could have sworn I heard—”
“Got the jitters?” Mac asked, amused. With his hulking physique and impassive face, he didn’t seem in the least intimidated by the strange surroundings.
Jeff turned around and responded huskily: “No, I’m fine.”
“Scared of the dark, huh?”
Jeff didn’t rise to the bait. “Let’s go on,” he said flatly.
“I didn’t realize you were such a chicken, Captain” Mac said.
Jeff turned around in surprise. Up to now, he hadn’t received such a direct insult. Should he react to it now? Or was it best to pretend he hadn’t heard? He didn’t feel like responding to every stupid remark—Mac would just think he was being petty and like him even less than he already did. In the end, Jeff decided to ignore the remark. He’d spent too long thinking about it already.
The corridor seemed to be endless. By the time they reached the next junction, nearly twenty minutes had passed. Jeff contacted their quarters. “Austin here. We’ve reached the next intersection.”
“We were wondering where you’d got to,” Joanne said. The static had increased slightly, but he had no difficulty understanding her. However, he worried that the farther away they moved, the harder it would become to communicate.
“The corridor was pretty long. One thousand seven hundred feet, according to the handheld. And we’re also a hundred and eighty feet deeper.
“Have you passed any doors?”
“No, just smooth corridor walls. I’m wondering what’s behind them. Have the other two found anything yet?”
“Not really. They found a few doors they could open, but the rooms were empty.”
“Understood. We’ll keep going.”
“OK. But Major Irons doesn’t want you to exceed a distance of half a mile from our quarters.”
Jeff nodded. “Roger.” He pointed down the left-hand corridor that led, as usual, into darkness. “This way.”
“Why that way?” Mac asked.
“That’s the direction of our quarters, just further down in the ship.”
Mac shrugged. “How far are we from the surface?”
Jeff looked at his handheld and changed the scale of the map. “About six hundred feet. But since it has a diameter of almost six hundred miles, we’re only scratching the surface of this thing.”
“When we arrive at Sigma-7 in a few months, we should just keep the ship,” Mac said.
“I doubt the computer will let that happen.”
“Maybe we’ll find a way of switching it off. It doesn’t seem to be very efficient—it’s hardly ever available. We’ll just take over the ship and use it as a weapon against the Alliance.
Jeff laughed. “With a range of two light years a week, it won’t be much of a weapon.”
Mac shrugged again. “I’m sure it can be used for something.”
“Even if we could take over the ship, it would be pretty ungrateful of us. After all, the ship’s computer did save us.”
Mac rolled his eyes and mumbled something incomprehensible.
This corridor, too, seemed to go on forever. Jeff kept glancing down at his handheld. Finally, they were getting closer to their quarters—albeit about two hundred and fifty feet below them. After taking a few more turns they were exactly below where their quarters must be. Interestingly, there was a door here, too.
Jeff pushed the square next to the entrance and the door hissed open. Mac stepped forward and shone the flashlight into the room. It appeared to be an exact replica of their own quarters, but there was no furniture and no kitchenette.
“Even the door to the sleeping quarters is in the same spot,” Mac said, pointing to the other side of the room. Jeff nodded and reported their discovery to the improvised base. “Thanks, Jeff. I’ve noted down the information. Castle and Shorty also found some rooms after they went back toward the surface. Also empty.”
Jeff wasn’t surprised to hear this. Everywhere they went was deserted—it was hard to believe anyone had ever lived here. Clearly their quarters had been prepared especially for them at short notice, but there must be more on this ship. The old inhabitants must have lived somewhere.
“How about a break, boss?” Mac asked. He didn’t wait for an answer, but plunked himself on the ground near the door. He set up the flashlight so that it illuminated the ceiling and bathed the room in a dim, diffuse light. Jeff would have liked to continue, but he didn’t want to get into an argument. He reported the break to Joanne and sat down next to Mac with his back against the wall. Mac opened his backpack, took out a small bottle of water and a ration pack, and began to rip open the packaging. He didn’t show any sign of wanting to share it with Jeff.
“Could I please have some water and food?”
Mac didn’t hear him or acted as if he hadn’t heard him, and Jeff had to repeat his question. Without saying a word, the mechanic reached into his backpack again and handed Jeff water and a concentrate bar. Jeff sighed and tore off the plastic wrapper with his teeth. “You don’t like me much, do you?”
Mac turned around, his bar halfway to his mouth, and looked at Jeff the way you looked at an idiot. It was a pretty dumb question, since everyone in the crew knew the answer already. “Does it matter?”
“Not really, but you don’t exactly make an effort to hide your aversion,” Jeff said. He tried to make his voice sound casual, and to hide any bitterness, but didn’t succeed.
Mac chuckled softly. “I’m just honest. But it doesn’t make any difference to our mission. Give me an order, Captain, and I’ll obey. That’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”
“But why do you dislike me so much, Mac?”
“You’re from the Solar System—from the moon, no less.”
A bigot? Was Mac simply a bigot?
“Is that all? You hate me because I come from the moon?”
Mac shook his head. “You all think you’re something special because you come from the center of the Empire. For you, we’re just rednecks.”
“I’ve never felt that way about the peripheral areas,” Jeff said firmly. “My family always tried—”
“Your family,” said Mac dismissively. “Your family are aristocrats.”
Jeff shook his head. “My family has never held a high office in the Imperial Government.”
Mac snorted. “Same difference. You’re all in each other’s pockets. Where did your parents work? Hermes factories? Artemis production?”
“My father had a little company and was a subcontractor to the Nubium shipyards. He produced navigation sensors.”
Mac craned his head forward. His eyes radiated pure hatred. “I can tell you something about the Nubium shipyards and their clean, shiny facilities run by robots. Where do you think the stable fermium for the Casimir converter comes from?”