CHAPTER 46 – TOMATOES
Elizabeth escorted Jack to the lounge and situated him on one of the couches in front of the large screen which would be projecting the World Series games. When she kissed him goodbye, she got the distinct impression that he was glad to be rid of her.
So maybe I went a little overboard when I found that blanket and tucked it in around him. And told the guys to make sure he didn't drink any alcohol. And told them to message me if he had any coughing.
They didn't need to laugh when I said no chest bumping or whatever it is they do when someone scores a touchdown.
The more she thought about it, the more Elizabeth realized that she had acted like one of the mothers she had met when she started student teaching. The desperately concerned women who had dropped off their sons on the first day of kindergarten with teary eyes. The mothers, not the sons.
The mothers who were afraid to leave their sons for a few hours because they worried that the little boys might stub their toes, or wet themselves from nerves, or not make any friends unless they were under their watchful maternal eyes.
Obviously, I'm not worried about Jack stubbing a toe, or wetting himself, or not making friends, but . . . what if he hurts himself. Or exerts himself too much. What if it's too soon for him to be out of bed.
Elizabeth realized that she should be grateful that Jack hadn't wiped away her kiss like it was a disgusting overly emotional pubic display of affection. He had taken it like a man. A man who loved his wife immensely but wanted to hang out with his mates without an overprotective wife hovering over him and messing up sports terms.
Two hours later, Elizabeth had completed her education assessment, had a quick check-up with the ship's doctor who declared her in perfect shape, and met with her students for an abbreviated lesson.
The idea of teaching a class today had seemed like a good idea until she was actually standing in front of her students and realized she hadn't bothered to prepare anything and couldn't remember where they had left off days ago.
She ended up spending sixty minutes having the children write stories, and then talk about how they felt about the debris bombardment. In poetry.
"They wrote poems about the accident?" Abigail asked in disbelief. She turned a large can of pressed tofu into a bowl and then reached for another can.
"Tess's was the best. It went something like this: We were traveling through the airy when things got really scary. Everyone started to cry. We all thought we were going to die. The blood was red but no one was dead."
Abigail snorted in laughter.
Elizabeth set down her bottle of water and looked at the meager portions of food. "How are you going to feed over a hundred people with that?"
"We've got some tomatoes growing on sublevel C. I'll see if I can use them to stretch this out. I'm just not sure if there are any more ripe ones left. I messaged the center, but I think the guy that usually works there is in the lounge watching the World Series."
"Jack acted like it's a big deal. Just how many games are there?"
"Could be up to seven. What team is he rooting for?"
"I have no idea, but it sounds like it's going to take a while." Elizabeth stood up from the counter. "How about I go down below and see if I can find any tomatoes."
"That would be awesome. I'm not sure if they'll be any ripe ones, but if there are, I'll take them. You may only find about ten or so, but that's better than nothing. There should be some empty small boxes down there. You can't use the pneumatic tube system, it will crush them. But there's a trans-logic dumbwaiter in the room.
When the door had slid open revealing the large silver and grey room which was now used as an extra payload bay, Elizabeth paused. It was nothing like before. The special forest that she and Jack had shared was gone.
The room, previously used as a nursery and horticulture room, had been full on the trip to Coal Valley. It had been filled with gardening supplies, vegetable plants, and trees. There had been pine trees, apple trees, maple trees, palm trees. Even Eucalyptus trees. Each species with a unique purpose.
Elizabeth took a few steps into the room, allowing the door to slide closed behind her, and thought back to the first time Jack had brought her here. To see real trees. Now it was a boring barren cargo room with a few grow-lights nurturing some plants.
She spied the small boxes Abigail had mentioned stacked against a wall. Picking one up, she approached the plants which were growing in metal troughs in a back corner. Elizabeth quickly estimated that there were only about twenty plants.
True to Abigail's prediction, there weren't many ripe tomatoes to be gathered.
Hmm. No ripe ones here, she thought with a frown as she looked amongst the leaves of the plant closest to her.
The static from the loudspeaker bursting to life caught Elizabeth by surprise. She turned her attention to the voice communication system in the corner of the ceiling.
THIS IS A LOCK DOWN. THE SHIP IS ON IMMEDIATE LOCKDOWN. DOORS ARE NOW LOCKED. ALL PERSONNEL WILL REMAIN IN THEIR CURRENT LOCATION UNTIL THEY ARE CLEARED TO BE MOVED.
Elizabeth swiveled around and stared in dismay at the closed door. A split second later, she sprinted across the room hoping to get out before the locking mechanism was activated but it was too late.
When she passed her bracelet over the door scanner, the small horizontal light remained red and the door remained closed.
She was locked in.
Her heart-beat quickened and she turned to look at her surroundings once more. Her eyes scanned the room.
She was locked in. Alone. In a large mostly-empty chamber.
And she had no idea why.
What now? Elizabeth grumbled after telling herself that there was no reason to be concerned.
Why can't this trip just go smoothly?!
She looked at her watch and wondered how long she would be locked in. Not knowing why she was locked in the room significantly hurt her ability to figure out how long it would be until the door was opened.
She sat on the cold hard floor and leaned her back against the immobile sliding door.
This is a fine kettle of fish I've gotten myself into! It's never easy, is it?!
When no new announcements were made in the next thirty seconds, she began to get anxious.
How long can this possibly take?
Unsure what to do, Elizabeth quickly messaged Jack, but he reported back that he was also clueless at this point. He and seven other passengers were locked in the lounge. He was surprised that she was by herself in the payload area because he had assumed she would be with her students finishing up a class. She assured him that she was fine, that the lock-down would probably only last a few minutes, and she'd meet up with him in a bit.
Maybe I can find another way out. Why should I have to be locked in here by myself.
With determination, she slapped her knees, stood up, and contemplated how to get out of the situation.
The pneumatic tube machine was out of the question. For one thing, it was too small. And more importantly, she didn't want her insides crushed by the force of the pressured-air pushing her upwards. She shuddered at the thought.
Now the trans-logic dumbwaiter is another story, she thought as she walked towards it.
Similar to an old-fashioned dumbwaiter in its placement and use, its movable frame operated like a elevator.
Elizabeth opened the compartment and stuck her head inside. Tilting her neck, she peered around inside. Looking up the metal shaft, she deciphered that the flat surface which was several feet above her was the bottom of the carrier.
If I get it down here, I can climb inside and ride it to an upper level.
She tentatively pushed the green button labeled "Call" and anticipated the movement of the carrier, but apparently, whoever had locked the doors had also thought to lock the trans-logic.
ATTENTION PASSENGERS, ALL AIR VENTS HAVE BEEN SEALED. PASSENGERS MAY NOTICE A CAHNGE IN TEMPERATURE AS AIR WILL NOT CIRCULATE. ALL AIR VENTS ARE SEALED. THEY WILL REOPEN WHEN APPROPRIATE.
When appropriate? What the heck is that supposed to mean? It's appropriate to breathe. Doesn't that count?
Elizabeth looked down at her bracelet when it beeped.
Her body relaxed slightly when she read Jack's message. Although he didn't explain what was going on with the ship, he told her not to be concerned, that he still had no idea how long the lockdown would last, and that his team had just scored a run.
Realizing that she wasn't going to get out of her imprisonment using the crushing air-pressured tube or the mini-elevator, Elizabeth decided to inspect the room.
PASSENGER TURNER. PASSENGER TURNER. PLEASE NOTIFY THE BRIDGE AS TO YOUR LOCATION. PLEASE NOTIFY THE BRIDGE AS TO YOUR LOCATION.
Elizabeth ignored the message as it wasn't meant for her and continued walking the room.
It was a huge area, easily covering 2,000 square feet and running underneath many of the upper level rooms. Shelves held a dwindling supply of tin cans and boxes. A few pieces of broken equipment from the recent bombardment were haphazardly scattered around after having been removed from the upper levels. In the far corner, were the rows of tomato plants she had briefly examined.
Elizabeth sighed in exasperation when she looked through the shelves and crates and discovered that there was nothing there to help keep her occupied. She walked back to the plants and began casually inspecting them.
She plucked a somewhat reddened tomato off the vine and bit into it. She tried not to think of the people upstairs who were on rationed meals.
I'll subtract this from my dinner meal, she rationalized.
Twenty minutes later, Elizabeth ran her hands up and down her chilled arms in an effort to subdue the bumps on her skin that had appeared due to a lack of heat pumping in through the air vents.
Let's be logical and figure out why we're on lock-down, she decided.
They want to keep someone locked out of a room? Or they want to keep everyone locked IN?
The second one makes more sense. If they wanted to keep us out of a room, they'd just lock that room.
So why does everyone have to stay where they are?
They're looking for something. That has to be it. Someone has something.
But what?
Why did they close the air vents?
Because that's how things are spread. Moving air spreads contaminants. But no one is sick. At least not that I know of.
And it seems a bit drastic to shut down the air vents over one person having the sniffles.
Why did Mr. Turner have to tell them his location? Oh dear, I hope he didn't do something wrong. He seemed so nice.
Elizabeth stopped thinking about Mr. Turner when her bracelet beeped with a message from Jack.
How are you doing?
Fine. Bored. Ate a red tomato. How are you doing?
Good. Just got released from the lounge. Going back to our room.
You got released? Why? How?
They're checking passengers in identity-order.
Checking?
Not a big deal.
I should have gotten checked before you. I'm E.T. , You're J.T.
Not alphabetically. You think too much like a teacher. By Earth citizen number. And level. Don't worry, I'm sure they'll get to you soon.
Elizabeth's arm dropped to her side and she sighed in boredom. It was twenty seconds later that she realized that Jack hadn't told her exactly for what the crew was checking.
What are they checking for? she typed curiously.
At first, she waited patiently for Jack's response, which seemed to take entirely too long for a man who should have been waiting subserviently for his wife's queries.
With a disgruntled huff, she realized Jack wasn't the sort of man who would be at her beck and call. Nor would she want him to be that sort. But she knew a message from him would make her feel better.
Elizabeth's mouth turned down slightly in a frown as she wondered what was taking him so long to respond. How hard could it be to type a simple answer as to why the passengers were being checked.
She was about to type another message when Jack's reply came through.
Her eyes grew wide at the words. She quickly read them again as her stomach plummeted.
After reading his message, Elizabeth didn't feel any better. She felt even worse.
Temporary panic would be the best way to describe it. Or maybe temporary panic mixed with horror.
The idea of dying before she got back to Earth suddenly seemed like a very real possibility.
UP NEXT: CHAPTER 47
Dear Readers and WCTH viewers: Unlike the TV show, I won't keep you guessing until the next chapter. Neither J or E dies in my story. :)