Captain Hudson was hardly a man to tiptoe around people's feelings, but he was trying hard to make allowances for the old crew. He knew they were having a hard time adjusting and he was trying not to ride them too hard, but it was costing him what little patience he had. How was it that nobody seemed to be able to get the computer system up and running in a satisfactory manner? It seemed that Lucas Wolenczak was the only one who knew how to operate it properly. Most of the systems seemed to be running at about seventy per cent efficiency.
He was also involved in the sensitive task of re-assigning rooms to accommodate the new crewmembers that were brought on to replace lost colleagues, and Hudson and sensitive did not go well together. He passed the task to Commander Ford.
Jonathon Ford went to visit Tony in his room. "Can I come in?"
"Sure."
He was just sitting on his bunk, staring at the computer in front of him.
"Doesn't get easier, does it?" Jon sat beside him.
"Nope. Keep thinking it will, but it hasn't so far."
"I afraid what I'm about to say isn't going to make you feel any better."
Tony buried his face in his hands. "Oh God, what now?"
"Hudson issued the new room assignments. You're going to be sharing with Dagwood."
At Tony's look, he added, "Hey, at least it's someone you know, that you're already friends with."
"I guess. It just feels wrong, y'know? His stuff is still all over the place." He gestured to the computers and a stack of boxes. "Did you track down his folks?"
"His father disappeared four years ago. His mother..." Ford pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "His mother said she's already mourned him, and she doesn't want any of his stuff."
"Sweet lady. No wonder he never mentioned her."
"Yeah. It's not like we didn't know he had crappy parents."
They sat silently for a moment.
"He was eighteen, Jon. Freakin' eighteen years old."
"I know."
"Never even had any fun in his life. All those brains, and what did it get him? Working full time on a military submarine from the age of fifteen to this." His voice cracked. "Dead before he could even legally drink, and no-one to even give a rat's ass about him 'cept us."
"I know. Don't worry, we'll find somewhere to put his stuff until we know what to do with it."
"Why? I figured you'd want to get rid of it. Efficiency and all that. Since no-one wants it."
"Stupid, isn't it? Just seems wrong to throw it away. Maybe one day Bridger will come back and decide he wants it. Or his father will re-appear." He gave Tony a weak grin. "It's possible, isn't it? Who knows that better than us?"
Things started to feel normal again, and they got to know the new captain and crewmembers and settle into the new routine.
Jonathon Ford and Lonnie Henderson started spending more time together and began to develop a romance.
Lieutenant J.J. Fredericks, or Freddy to her friends, turned out to have a good sense of humor and was well liked. She and Tony began a casual romantic arrangement with no emotional ties that suited them both.
Even Tim had started a relationship of sorts with a woman that he'd met on the Internex. It was early days and he didn't say much about her, but he enjoyed being able to talk to her. Since Lucas had gone, he felt he didn't have anyone that could share in the intellectual debates they used to enjoy.
The conflict with the Macronesians continued to worsen, and no matter what anyone else said, they all knew it was war.
In a different part of the world, an eighteen year old boy lined up for prison rations.
Approximately two hundred people were housed in the unofficial Macronesian prison camp, mainly UEO citizens suspected of being UEO spies. They were given the barest minimum to eat and drink, and the living conditions were filthy. There were no showers or wash areas, just a central pump where they were allowed to line up for water twice a day. Fleas and lice were prevalent. The toilet facilities were minimal, and with the conditions the way they were many people became ill. The camp smelled of human waste, sickness and death.
All of the prisoners were presumed missing or dead. Unless they had some kind of value to the party, they were left here to die; and rumor had it that if they did have some value to the party, things could be much, much worse.
Prisoner number 107 was determined that they would not find him to be of any value. He used a fake name and kept his head down and his mouth shut, and waited until his friends came looking for him. As he knew they would.
They must.
For three long months he waited. And waited. And waited.
The time came when he was approached by a fellow prisoner with a plan for their rescue. Prisoner 107 had the skills that were needed to execute it. In case of capture, each person involved knew of only two other people in the plot - the person who recruited them, and the person they recruited. The boy had been recruited by George, but had not recruited anyone himself. He was the last link of their plan.
Escape wouldn't work. There were too many of them to coordinate it, and they were mostly too sick to fight. Hell, many of them were too sick to stand. Disease had moved through the camp and was picking them off with brutal alacrity.
George was a trustee, and he now had access to the computer system. His prayers had been answered when he discovered the boy was a hacker. They would send out a message and hope it would be found.
The boy, known to everyone as Nate Bridges - a variation of the first name that came into his head when being questioned - knew that they needed to do something, and soon. He had lost too much weight and had developed a cough, a cough he had heard from others in the camp. He saw what it led to. They had to be rescued. Quickly.
On the night they decided to act, it started to rain. Not good for all of the sick people, but better for their plan. The guards would not be hanging around on a night like this.
They waited until the prisoners were locked away for the night. George freed himself with a duplicate key (made for him by his contact), and then released Nate.
They slipped through the rain to the computer building. George signaled to the boy to wait, and then handed him a set of coveralls that he had stashed behind a vent to prevent leaving dirt in the pristine computer area. They were both filthy. Nathan put them on - they were an even better idea now that he was so wet from the rain - and then he went inside to the computers that he knew so well.
He touched the computer almost lovingly for a moment, it had been so long since he had used one. He felt like a starving man staring at a steak dinner. Then he smiled wryly as he remembered that he was a starving man, and he would continue to be one until he got to work and got them all rescued.
He worked for a couple of hours, and then George knocked at the door. He nodded and closed down the computer.
"Did you do it?"
"Yeah. I deleted us from the security footage, it'll just look like a power outage. And I sent out an SOS with our co-ordinates. It's pretty heavily buried in a few different streams, they'll never find it unless they go looking for it. And if that happens, well...it means they already know what we've done."
He didn't tell him about the other thing he had done. He had arranged for the computer to transmit secured files every evening, hidden in a virus scan. If they couldn't be rescued, then at least the UEO would have vital information about the enemy and what they were doing.
