Jeff didn’t reply.
“From the asteroid belt around Ross 339. We don’t have any beautiful planets like Earth in our system. Not even a terraformable dust ball like Mars. We don’t have any planets at all—we live in miserable containers on barren pieces of rock in the belt. If it hadn’t been for the fact that fermium could be synthesized in that shithole of a system, nobody would have dreamed of settling there. We slave away for you with shitty equipment under a burning sun to produce your oh-so-important fermium. And you pay us next to nothing, although it’s the backbone of your industry. And you know what the best thing is?”
Jeff didn’t reply. Mac had talked himself into a rage. “The money we earn we have to spend on water, food, and air, for which you charge crazy shit prices. We’re just slaves to you, with no chance of leading a better life.”
Jeff swallowed. He had heard second-hand reports of political activists, who were constantly ranting about conditions on the outskirts of the Empire. Of course, those stories were immediately refuted by lawyers and the public relations machine. Since there were no commercial flights to many of the systems, the reports were difficult to verify independently. In fact, Mac might be exaggerating.
“And yet you’re fighting in the war for the Empire against the Alliance,” Jeff pointed out.
Mac spat on the floor. “I don’t give a shit about the Empire. I didn’t volunteer to be here.”
“You could have refused.”
“That might be possible in your central systems. Where we come from, it’s not. There’s enough human garbage rotting away in jail who can be blackmailed into service.”
“You were in jail?”
Mac nodded. “Where I come from there isn’t enough to go round, and there are too many people strung out on drugs trying to escape their pathetic lives. There are constant skirmishes. About drugs, weapons, women, food. Until the war started, your prick of a governor didn’t give a damn if we were cutting each other’s throats. Now all the roughnecks are being sent to jail and forced into military service. When the alternative is twenty years’ labor camp on Doom 3, you don’t ask any more questions about which mission you’ll be sent on with the Imperial fleet.”
What could Jeff say in response?
“So don’t tell me we live in a just world,” Mac continued. “We on the margins are the slaves, and those in the center are the masters. And you guys from the Solar System are worst of all. And another thing…”
Jeff didn’t reply.
“If you were stuck in the cockpit, wounded, I wouldn’t risk my ass to save you. You better get that into your thick aristocratic skull,” Mac smirked. “And if you don’t like my choice of words, you can go and report me to the major. Then I’ll have a nice rest in my cabin and spare myself these little expeditions through this alien shithouse.”
Jeff couldn’t think of anything to say. In fact, he felt kind of sorry for the guy.
While he was still searching for the right words, Mac threw the empty packaging of his ration carelessly into the corner of the room. He put the bottle back in his backpack. “I’m done. We can go on, if you like.”
Jeff hadn’t even taken a bite of his ration bar. But he’d lost his appetite, anyway. He stuffed the bar in the pocket of his combat suit and tucked the water bottle in his belt. Mac stood up, picked up the flashlight, and opened the door into the corridor. It was as dark out there as it had been before. They spent two more hours wandering through seemingly endless corridors, searched through some more empty rooms, and finally returned to their quarters with the help of the handheld. They got back at almost exactly the same time as Castle and Shorty, who hadn’t found anything interesting, either.
Jeff had difficulty hiding his disappointment. But Irons was more optimistic. So far, they had only searched the area relatively close to their quarters and that didn’t even represent a fraction of what there was to explore, considering the size of the ship. Irons showed them the map Joanne had created with the data they had sent back. She corrected the sketches using the data stored on their handhelds and identified some corridors nearby, which they hadn’t been down yet. Tomorrow, two more squads would be sent off to explore these; then they would start to expand the radius of their reconnaissance. They would be spending several months on this huge ship. At some point, surely, they would find something interesting.
5.
“Hello guests. Have you settled in comfortably?”
Jeff started at the sound of the onboard computer’s synthesized voice. Over dinner, they had just been discussing the fact that there’d been no contact for more than twenty-four hours. The food—another stew—had again suddenly appeared outside the door. After the knock at the door, Irons had leapt up from the table and reached the door in seconds, but once again there were no robots or aliens to be seen in the corridor. The night before, the trolley with the cleared-up crockery had disappeared just as mysteriously after they had left it outside the door.
“Good evening,” Irons said, looking up at the ceiling as if the mind of the computer were floating up there. “Yes, thank you, we’ve settled in well. And thank you for the food.”
“I hope it is to your liking.”
“It’s very nutritious and tasty. We were unable to make contact with you for a long time.”
There was a pause of a few seconds before the answer came. “That is true. I apologize. This is a big and old ship with a multitude of monitoring and maintenance needs. Due to its age, some computer banks have failed. Since they could not be replaced, I am unable to offer my full attention and must divide up my capacities.”
Jeff nodded. That was exactly what they had assumed.
“So I will continue to be available only sporadically, and apologize in advance,” the ship’s computer continued. “Did you have a good night?”
“Yes, the rooms are more comfortable than we could have expected. Thank you,” Irons said.
“How did you spend your day?” the synthetic voice asked.
“We had a look around the vicinity of our quarters. I hope this is OK with you.”
“As I said, you can move around freely.”
“We noticed that the corridors are very long. And there don’t seem to be many rooms.” Irons waited for an answer, but none came. “What is the bulk of this ship made of?” he added.
“The jump drive takes up a lot of room and permeates the whole ship. That’s why some of the rooms are so far apart.”
Irons nodded. It sounded like a logical explanation. Jeff wondered what the physical principle of this jump drive was. It seemed to be less efficient and slower than the technology of their hyperdrive.
“Where did the former crew live?” Irons asked.
“They were distributed all over the ship.”
“So far we haven’t found any signs of former inhabitants. And how did the passengers get from one point of the ship to another? Surely they didn’t run down hundreds of miles of corridors?”
“The crew took everything useful out of the ship to their new colony. A long time ago there was a transit system, but it was removed by robot workers upon arrival at the target system. The empty holes were filled for reasons of stability, so you will find no evidence of it.”
“Where was the bridge of the spaceship?”
There was another pause before the computer answered. “Bridge? What do you mean by bridge?”
Irons frowned. “Well, the place where the ship is controlled by the members of the crew.”
“Ah, you mean the control center. There were several such rooms, all in the core of the ship.”
“I would like to see the bridge—control center, I mean,” Irons said.