“At least we’ve found a good way to reach the core of the ship,” Joanne said. “I’ve loaded the approximate coordinates onto my handheld. I’ll transfer the data to your computers later.”
Jeff continued to study the hologram. The corridor they’d been talking about ended in a circle, which was filled with white on the map. “The map doesn’t show the core of the ship,” he said.
“Luckily it’s not that big,” Green said.
“Thirty miles in diameter, I’d say,” Joanne said.
Owl shrugged. “Then we’ll have to find the way ourselves.”
“I wonder why that area isn’t on the map? As if there’s something hidden there, which we’re not supposed to find,” Joanne said.
Nobody answered her.
Jeff ended the uneasy silence after a few seconds. “Let’s get going.”
17.
“How much further do you want us to go today?” Owl asked. He sounded tired. “Surely we’ve gone far enough.”
Owl’s weary voice jolted Jeff out of his reverie, and he realized that for some time he’d just been trudging along mechanically staring down at his boots. They’d been walking down the same gloomy corridor for hours; it seemed to be endless. Of course, they knew approximately how long it was from the hologram, but in reality, the march through that sixty-mile-long nave-like corridor, with its lateral columns at regular intervals that joined into black arches high above their heads, was like walking through a surreal horror-movie set. Only occasionally did corridors turning off to the left or right. Even less often were there doors leading into rooms, none of which was more than a few square feet in size.
More than once they heard sinister noises: a mournful moan, a grinding sound, and one time Jeff thought he heard the cry of a madman echoing from far away. But because of the echo, they could never tell if the noise was coming from in front or behind. The mere thought of some weird creature following them in the darkness made Jeff’s stomach turn.
He threw a glance at Joanne, who was stoically marching alongside him. She returned his glance and nodded. She knew what he wanted to know. She held up her handheld. “Twenty-two miles from the gate.”
Jeff wiped the sweat from his brow. He thought they’d covered a greater distance in the last eight hours. At least that’s what his aching feet were telling him. With every step he took, he felt a stab of pain shoot through his big toe. He was sure he’d find a big blister when he took off his boot. And no doubt the others were suffering, too. But he wanted to carry on just a bit longer. The faster they got to the core of the ship, the sooner they would find out what was what—and hopefully also find a way of steering this ship in the direction they wanted to go. Also, he didn’t want the men to think he was a quitter, the first one to need a rest. And something in the pit of his stomach told him they didn’t have all the time in the world.
But finally Jeff decided there was no point in carrying on for the day. If they exhausted themselves too much today, they’d just cover less distance tomorrow. “All right. Let’s look for somewhere to camp for the night.”
“Night…?” Castle laughed. “It’s always night here. It’s always as dark as a shit-house. It’s starting to drive me crazy.”
Jeff didn’t respond. “We’ll carry on until we find a room we can camp in for the night.” He didn’t want them to spread out their sleeping bags in the middle of the corridor. Beneath this cathedral-like ceiling, and with those awful noises, he wouldn’t sleep a wink. No, they needed a larger-than-average room that they could barricade from the inside, and set up a guard post outside.
“Over there. I see a door.” Finni pointed to the left.
The radar technician was right. As they came closer, Jeff saw there was a narrow window in the wall beside the door. Good—that way they could keep an eye on the corridor from the inside, making it harder for potential intruders to take them by surprise.
“There’s a turnoff into a corridor,” Joanne noticed.
She was right. About forty feet away, there was a turning into a narrow passage. But that made no difference to Jeff’s decision to use the room in front of them as their quarters for the night.
The door into the room was closed, and Jeff shone his flashlight through the window. He pushed against the door. It swung open noiselessly and with little resistance.
Apart from a few tables, the room was empty. It wasn’t very big, but just big enough that they would all be able to lie down relatively comfortably. The gray table legs were far enough apart for them to spread out their sleeping bags underneath the tables.
“Put the equipment sled next to the door. When we sleep, we’ll use it to block the exit.”
“What should we eat?” Castle asked, carelessly dropping his backpack on the floor and sliding down the wall to a sitting position.
It was a stupid question, and in any case, the WSO knew the answer. “We’ll get the concentrate food out of the sled shortly,” Jeff replied tersely.
Mac crouched down, took the small, wrapped gray bars out of a container, and distributed them. Everyone got one bar, and Mac made a point of handing one to Jeff last of all. If that was going to be Mac’s only act of rebellion, Jeff wouldn’t complain. He put his backpack on one of the gray tables and sat down next to it. He ran his fingers through his hair and was surprised to find that it was damp with sweat. He checked his multifunction watch and clicked his tongue.
“What?” asked Joanne, who was in the middle of unwrapping her concentrate bar.
“It’s gotten warmer.”
Owl and Shorty looked down at their watches.
“You’re right,” Castle said. “Seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. I hadn’t noticed. I guess the temperature rises the further down into the ship we go.”
“If it carries on at this rate, it will be over a hundred and twenty degrees at the core,” Finni calculated.
“Let’s wait and see,” Joanne said.
“This stuff tastes like shit,” Mac said, spitting the last bit of his concentrate on the floor.
“You’re welcome to slurp the food made from your excrement out of your combat suit,” Castle said sarcastically. “I’ll happily take your share of the concentrate.”
Shorty yawned loudly. “I’m so tired. I just want to sleep.”
Jeff looked at his watch and nodded. “Let’s get some rest. We’re going to take a ten-hour break and then continue.”
“Ten hours?” Joanne asked. “Then it will be four in the morning.”
Jeff sighed. Perhaps it would be better not to mess up their sleeping patterns completely. It was not for nothing that a uniform time had been introduced for all ships of the Empire, which the crews had to stick to. But he couldn’t shake the vague and disturbing feeling that they didn’t have much left to save themselves from the situation they were in. It was as if an invisible stopwatch were counting down to their doom. Jeff tried to snap out of it; he didn’t know where the feeling came from. Then he remembered the major’s premonition, which had cruelly come to pass, and decided to listen to his gut feeling. But the others didn’t need to know about it. “As Castle said, it’s impossible to tell night from day here, and ten hours’ rest should be enough.”
“Shall we set up a watch?” Joanne asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I’d like to take the first shift,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
Joanne nodded. “I’m not that tired.”
“OK. I’ll take over in two and a half hours. Then Green, and then Finni.”
Jeff spread out his sleeping bag so that he was lying half under one of the tables, and then pressed the button that inflated the integrated mattress. He sat down wearily and pulled off his heavy boots with a groan. Despite the breathable material, the odor that emanated from his feet was anything but pleasant. He pulled off his socks and examined his right foot. He winced. On one of his toes there was a big, pus-filled blister. He resisted the urge to pop it and instead applied a wound-healing strip, which he took out of Joanne’s medical kit.