Chapter Four
Burdens of Surprise
The same immense distances that had contributed to the awesome beauty of the nebulae that recently inspired Captain Mercer's appreciation of the wonders of the universe, both celestial and human, now work against the mighty starship as it rushes at maximum speed to answer an emergency appeal for aid. Space is so vast that it can take hours - days - for someone to arrive at the scene of a cataclysm, thereby assuring that, if the calamity is in space, when they do arrive they'll be in time to scan debris and scoop up bodies.
That is the first and hardest lesson those in the Union Space Service have to learn, that the old adage 'you can't save everyone' is in reality more like 'in an emergency it's amazing if you can save anyone'.
But fortunately, this time it is not a space disaster, it's a supply run with a new ETA of 1320 hours tomorrow afternoon. Their shipment of seeds, together with the assistance of Dr. Aronov and his Quantum Accelerator, will resolve what at this point will not arise above the level of a minor problem.
A half hour after his first conversation with his Chief Engineer, and mainly for something to do, Mercer brings his fist down upon the communications button on the right arm of his chair. "Engine Room. John."
The computer routes his call to the proper spot, backs up and replays it with what he's been assured is less than a half second lag time. Some day he's going to test it.
"Engine Room," LaMarr's voice comes back with suitable alacrity.
"System check. How are the engines?"
"Purring like greyhounds."
For a moment the answer halts him, but in the respectful assurance he hears 'If there were a problem, I would tell you'.
He closes the circuit.
xx
Crystal McGee, in her undirected exploration of the ship (simulations and schematics and the fact that starships are generally similar throughout the fleet can only do so much) has already visited her office six doors to the right from her quarters and found it a miniature of those quarters; the faux wood walls, the single big window, the single couch on the left in front of the screen mounted on the left wall, the synthesizer nitch opposite it to her right. 'But if this is a single quarters, what've I got? One more thing to ask about.' Two very comfortable chairs, virtually mini-couches, are on opposite sides of the round table before the synthesizer; appropriate because she virtually never counsels more than one person, and if she must she can pull the chair from the desk beside which corner does not lead to a bedroom but directly to the Personal.
Everything is immaculate other than the floor standing potted plants, one green with huge leaves, another with yellow leaves surrounding short bright red stamens and a third that's doing its darnedest to be a Palm tree if it hadn't been interrupted and pressed into service here, three plants to tend to that command each of the three corners. Last but definitely least is the computer terminal on the center of the desk before the window, a twin to the one in her quarters, which presses home that these are for more than trying to record her diary – logs – on, are all that recommend the room.
x
Having left that Spartan office, she approaches what she expects will be Engineering. She's hesitant about the possibility of intruding, but her Clearance is, or so she's been assured, high enough to allow her access.
She'll find out when she gets in and someone immediately throws her out.
Then again, her friend George – Lt. George Saunders from the Tesla trip – should be inside, so maybe she won't be thrown too hard.
She stops outside the door, takes a deep calming breath which, after holding it for long seconds, doesn't work any more than any of her other tries had. She Crosses herself - prayer always does work even if focused breathing doesn't - and steps forward. The door slides open and she tries to act as though she's allowed to be inside.
Her extra friendly "Hello, everyone" is met with a broken, muttered chorus from people unused to the enthusiasm of her greeting, let alone the sight of this stranger in their sanctum strolling in as though she's on a tour. She grants this is justified because she did just walk into their sanctum and she is on a tour.
She continues for several steps, begins to take in the impressive split-level room filled with a long freestanding bank of controls to her right while to her left, on an upper level, the immense engines pulsate with power that vibrates the deck plates, when she feels like she's walking through a bog.
x
"Hey, buy a guy a drink first," comes a male voice from straight down. She looks down to it and finds herself standing inside a huge yellowish blob of … blob, and its eyes swivel to look up at her.
Terror doesn't begin to cover what she feels. Her shriek bounces and reverberates off the walls as she backpedals with high steps out of the – What The Hell Is This?
Everyone in the room is staring at her, several of them probably jumped when she'd screeched like a three year old but What The Hell Is The Blob that's reforming out of her footsteps and turning Eyes up on her?
"Youza!" it says out of a mouth that simply appears from – what? She's too scared to do more than pant high pitched, shattered breaths. Those eyes extend on a stalk out of the main blob to come hip high to her but they're on extended stalks so they're looking at her from crotch high and the mouth in the main body's saying "Honey, you can walk through me any time."
"I nee ah I nee ah gig hee hinii-neen!"
The stalks lengthen so the eyes come up higher. 'It's Looking At My BREAST!'
"An open book." The eyes lower down the unshortened stalks, rise up to the top again. "Honey, I'd love for you to be an open book to–"
Her shriek must be higher than the other was but she's running for the door and thank God it opens far enough for her to squeeze out, banging her left knee on the door and right hip on the frame as she leaps out into the corridor.
x
Back inside behind the re-closed door Lieutenant George Saunders confronts the gelatinous entity that sets low to the floor. He's only recently met the creature, knows the woman who'd run out not that much longer, the trip from Earth, but is so outraged that for the moment he'll let discipline go to wherever the creature had sent decorum.
"What's the matter with you? Is that the way you treat a fellow officer?"
"Hey, guy, I was just –."
He doesn't care what the being was doing, nominal superior though it may be. He turns and stalks out of the department, the door adequately fast to accommodate him.
The woman is forty feet up the corridor, her back to him, she's virtually collapsed against the right bulkhead and even from here he can see her trembling, hear her shattered breath.
x
Crystal can't walk, can't breathe; she's shaking so hard that if she pushed off the wall she'd fall. Her breath shudders as badly as the rest of her, her hands at her lips tremble so hard –
"Crystal?" is a soft voice and she jumps half out of her skin with a high bleat.
George Saunders steps around her, seems to appear before her and she wants to say something but her destroyed breath forbids her. She feels as though if she shook harder she could vibrate out of her uniform.
He reaches out, but she can't back away or raise her hands in defense so he puts his arms around her and she can't move nor stop quivering. He gathers her more deeply into an embrace she can't feel but to wonder if he can survive the quaking.
"It's okay," she hears him say into her ear but she can only tighten into a smaller version core, cowering into his body. He's so still but
"N-n-n-n-n-no!" All she can force is a whisper. "I-i-i-it's nnnnnnnnot!"
But as he continues to hold her, gradually - too gradually - the quivering slows. It must be a minute when it fades to half, enough for her to be able to look up into the blue eyes that seem, that are, so calm. Hers feel so wide they hurt. "What..." she can still only whisper, "was that … thing?"
"That's Lt. Yaphit. Assistant Chief Engineer."
x
'Yaphit' squeezes into her fragmented mind, pushes enough debris out of the way so it can get in. She'd heard about him. 'Gelatinous life form' she remembers. 'Intelligent gelatin.'
The door far behind her slides open. She can't turn around, but from too close, too low, she hears "Chaplain McGee?"
She forces herself to turn, and all she can say is "Nngggggg!" as she freezes but this time her wide eyes do hurt. She feels Saunders' hands close on her shoulders, probably to give assurance and comfort like she's supposed to do.
'Let me GO!' she wants to say. She can't stop panting and blast it but she's shaking again.
"I'm sorry I scared you," the creature says as it slides along the floor, all yellow blob and eyes and mouth and – "I don't hurt anyone."
"Neee ah. N - n - eee." She's panting so fast she's sure she's going to faint. "Nn – heee!"
The creature - well the eyes rotate away from her, the mouth does so a moment later and it - whatevers - back to the door. Through it. Inside.
x
"Crystal?"
"Lemego!" she can force into the whispered scream. He releases her and she stands shaking not quite as hard as before but breathes in gasps that have no rhythm nor consistent depth. He steps around her again.
She has to cover her face with her hands.
x
'Why am I here? I barely pass the Intake Interview, they must know I faked it; I almost scream at Lieutenant Commander Bortus; I make an imbecile of myself in Sick Bay when a crewman hits on me; Doctor Finn probably thinks I'm a coward and she's right; I scream like a four year old when I stand inside the Assistant Chief Engineer and now George thinks I'm a scared little coward and he's right. Not two hours aboard and I've proven myself a hopeless wreck who doesn't deserve to be on any space ship.'
x
"I won't insult you by asking if you're all right," he's saying and she had best pay attention. "But will you be all right?"
'No, I'll be put off the ship at our next port and everyone will be glad I'm gone.'
"I'm sorry," is all she can whisper.
"Do you need help back to your quarters?"
'Yes. Please. No, someone will see me shaking like a leaf and it'll be all over the ship. And all those Acting Lessons will go for nothing and my rep, horrible as it is, will be shot. I can do this. I can fake this.' "N-no. I-I'll be all … right." If she could get her breath to work, she could say one simple sentence. She's not trembling as hard, but she wants - needs - could surely use a glass of water for her dry mouth and throat. She forces herself to turn. Her quarters are this way.
"I believe you. Will you be okay by the time the Reception starts?"
She turns back, looks at him. He was speaking English, wasn't he? "Huh? What?"
"The Reception? For us? In Mooska's Lounge?" It sounds like English. "Didn't you know?"
"Reception?" Lieutenant Kitan, when she escorted her to her quarters after the meeting with the Captain and First Officer Commander, she'd told her... "Yes. Yes, I remember," is a bare whisper.
"Then you'll be there?"
'Oh yes. Might as well have one party, one nice time, before they throw me off the ship.' "I – I guess so," she forces.
"Good. I'm sure that once you get settled, you'll look forward to meeting your 'flock',"
'Oh my God.'
"Okay, mmmmmmaybe you're right."
"I know I am. Now go, get into your gown and wow these creeps."
"Okay," is tiny. She turns down the corridor, takes a step, two steps, three, his words filter through and she whirls. "My WHAT?"