ã€ŠA Starship Called Starsongã€‹


 Chapter 1

    I tightened the last bolt and rolled out from underneath the large sewing machine. The type of bolts I¡¯d used were overkill, but the sewing machine would die of old age before it fell off the wall again.

    I put my tools in my belt pouch and stood up. ¡°There you go. I fixed the damaged gears and bolted it to the wall. It would be advisable to run a calibration when you turn it on.¡±

    The nearby seamstress glanced up from the leggings she was hemming. ¡°Thank you, Rachel. I asked Maintenance to look at it a while ago, but Steve was too busy. I know he¡¯s the only one in that area and doesn¡¯t have an assistant at the moment. I didn¡¯t think it would actually fall off the wall, or I would have added that detail to the repair request.¡±

    Busy. Right. Busy playing pool with Mack all day instead of doing their jobs. Steve¡¯s last assistant had quit, and he hadn¡¯t bothered hiring another since my overseer, Mack, let him assign smaller stuff to me.

    Technically, minor repairs like this were supposed to be done by the Maintenance group, not a junior assistant from the Cargo Bay. The captain either didn¡¯t notice or didn¡¯t care since things were getting done.

    ¡°No problem. I¡¯m happy I could help.¡±

    The seamstress stood up. ¡°Since you¡¯re here, could you take a look at the light fixture in the fabric room? The ticket has been open for over a week.¡±

    ¡°Sure. I can take a look.¡±

    This may have been a hundred light-years away from my official tasks in the Cargo Bay, but I wasn¡¯t about to protest or voice a complaint. Minor repairs were far better than dealing with my overseer in the Cargo Bay.

    I propped a ladder beneath the misbehaving light as I dismissed my internal complaints. There wasn¡¯t much to do in the Cargo Bay in the middle of a voyage, and helping with maintenance tickets kept me from getting bored.

    After removing the screws, I let the light fixture dangle on the supporting chain that all spaceship lights were required to have. I pulled out my favorite gadget, a handheld device called an Analyzer.

    I pressed a few buttons on the advanced piece of equipment and held it close to the light fixture. A red light scanned the fixture before an image and words appeared on the display screen.

    I had saved up to buy this high-end model and its advanced software, and it had been worth every piece of astro gold. The screen told me exactly what was wrong and how to fix it. It even included a diagram of which wires had to be spliced, and it even provided links to various tutorials in case I needed them.

    I hummed as I fixed the light, idly daydreaming about sending my university an anonymous letter complaining that the three years of classes hadn¡¯t prepared me for repair tasks like replacing the cooling elements on the artificial gravity capacitors. That would have them scratching their heads.

    Less than a minute later, the light was fixed. I marked the work ticket as fixed on my Analyzer and closed the ticket. The seamstress looked up from calibrating her sewing machine as I came out of the room.

    ¡°It¡¯s fixed. Do you need anything else?¡±

    Politeness was a necessity on a cargo hauler like this one. More than three-quarters of the ship was comprised of holding bays and storage areas packed full of trade goods. With just over two hundred crew members, space was at a premium.

    Besides, I had nothing against the seamstress. She had been polite even though her work ticket had been sitting for weeks on end without a response or update. She was just happy to have it fixed. It was crew members like these who I enjoyed helping.

    She smiled. ¡°Thank you so much, Rachel! I can¡¯t think of anything else. I hope you enjoy your evening.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. You too¡±

    I walked down the corridor and checked my Analyzer for any urgent work tickets or emergencies. As per usual, the Cargo Bay list was completely empty. With a sigh, I opened up the Maintenance list. Hundreds of tickets were open, but all of them were low priority.

    My shift was over in five minutes, so I headed back to the Cargo Bay to ensure nothing else needed to be done. Mack would have contacted me via my communication device if anything had come up, but it was still policy and protocol.

    I reached the main Cargo Bay loading dock just as he was leaving his office and asked him, ¡°Is there anything left that needs to be done?¡±

    ¡°Nah, mid-voyage is dead boring. Always is. See ya tomorrow, Rookie.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good.¡± I headed down a different corridor. Mack might not be anywhere near the top of the ideal boss list, but he was far from the worst. His disorganization allowed me a lot of freedom in how I handled my duties, which was a huge perk.

    I headed to the mess hall and sat at an empty table while waiting for Cynthia. Using my Analyzer, I checked my email. Other than a newsletter with Analyzer tips, there was nothing. My brother knew my shift; he would call my personal computer in my room later.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    No replies to the many resumes and applications I filled out and submitted regularly, although I wasn¡¯t really expecting one. It might be easy to get into the large galactic universities to train for the numerous careers among the spaceships, but getting a job on board was an entirely different story.

    Even though I had started submitting resumes the instant I entered university and continued doing so throughout all three years of schooling, there had been only one inquiry.

    I¡¯d been so nervous that I¡¯d done extensive research on the spaceship. I had almost certainly been hired because I hadn¡¯t expressed any interest in what we were hauling, even though it was a standard question for a Cargo Bay position in case we needed additional safety training for hazardous materials.

    An official trading spaceship like this went through too many spaceport inspections to risk hauling something seriously illegal, like death phasers or compulsion smokeweed, but certain crates with obscure labels undoubtably contained things that were in the grey area of importing regulations or only banned on certain planets, which we may or may not have been scheduled to visit.

    Cynthia walked in, and after a look at the long line up by the buffet, she slid into the chair beside me. ¡°The strawberries are back on track! The first ones should be ready tomorrow, but it¡¯ll be a few days before there¡¯s enough to grace the dining hall.¡±

    In other words, the high-ranking crew members would get first dibs.

    I smirked. ¡°So it was the fertilizer regulator?¡±

    She elbowed me in jest. ¡°Smart-aleck. Whatever you did fixed it, although Steve hadn¡¯t found anything wrong when he scanned it previously.¡±

    Why someone in charge of Maintenance would use the cheapest Analyzer on the market baffled me. My Analyzer had told a different story, but I didn¡¯t dare say anything or talk down someone in a superior position, even if they weren¡¯t present.

    I shrugged. ¡°Perhaps it was just starting to go, and I scanned it when it was acting up.¡±

    Both of us knew the truth, but neither of us could say it out loud. Every spaceship had dozens of sensors and audio pickups in every public room and corridor. They were supposedly meant to locate the crew members or intruders in an emergency or a pirate attack, but the surveillance worked equally well to watch for any signs of discontent.

    Cynthia stood up. ¡°Let¡¯s go see what they managed to cook up in the way of dinner tonight.¡±

    I reluctantly followed her. Even my advanced Analyzer wasn¡¯t sure what to make of some of the food that was occasionally served in the areas where low-ranking crew members ate.

    I spooned things onto my plate and gingerly added a small spoonful of anonymous, grey paste to one untenanted corner. The sign proclaimed it to be pork casserole, but it looked very similar to some of the glues I had used earlier today.

    Once back at our table, I ate some salad while waiting for Cynthia to work up enough courage to try the grey paste. I had no qualms about letting someone else hazard the food they served here. The cooks always tested new recipes on the assistants, and this was the pork casserole¡¯s first appearance.

    Cynthia¡¯s face scrunched up, and she quickly lifted her napkin to her mouth to spit out the offending sludge.

    My caution had paid off once again. ¡°That bad, huh?¡±

    She shuddered as she replied, ¡°That was almost as bad as last week¡¯s soup.¡±

    That was not a good thing. I used a corner of my napkin to remove the tiny spoonful from my plate lest it contaminate everything else from its isolated corner.

    ¡°Ah, here you two are.¡± Logan slid into the seat beside Cynthia. The computer technician set his plate in front of him. ¡°You probably haven¡¯t heard yet, but there¡¯s going to be a large software update tomorrow after lunch. The official announcement is coming out in a couple of hours.¡±

    Cynthia sat up straighter. ¡°Which systems are they updating? The sprinkler timers always go haywire if they touch that system.¡±

    ¡°The captain found a big sale, so we¡¯re updating the thruster software and doing a major upgrade on the Main Database Console. That system hasn¡¯t been updated in decades, so this will be a big improvement. We¡¯ll have shut down a lot of systems while it updates though.¡±

    ¡°When are they doing this update?¡± I asked, already thinking ahead. ¡°Are we going to lose artificial gravity?¡±

    Thrusters weren¡¯t something you wanted to update while docked in case they kicked in momentarily or sputtered when firing up, but if we lost gravity, it could cause less-than-entertaining situations in the cargo holds. The retraining straps were just as reliable as the rest of the aged equipment on this ship.

    Logan shrugged. ¡°Mid-afternoon. The thrusters have to be taken offline during the update. We¡¯ll upgrade the ship¡¯s AI at the same time, which means we¡¯ll be on basic life support until the upgrade is complete. We¡¯re hoping we won¡¯t lose gravity, but it¡¯s a possibility. No more than an hour at the most.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll have to ensure the big equipment is all strapped down.¡± Having a loader float above you when the anti-grav might kick in at any moment was a guaranteed way to send your heart racing.

    ¡°No problem.¡± He dug his spoon into the grey paste on his plate.

    I kept a straight face. ¡°Logan, I dare you to put a bowlful of that stuff on the snack table in the bridge.¡±

    He paused to examine the paste and my expression. I had plenty of practice in hiding my true emotions after three years of university. The faintest glint of mischief might show in my eyes, but only those who knew me well could spot it. My wording would have given me away though.

    He slowly put his spoon back down. ¡°And what¡¯s in it for me if I do?¡±

    All of us knew he would never do such a thing. Pulling pranks on the captain and bridge crew could easily get him fired and left at the next planet we docked at.

    I kept my voice passive. ¡°I¡¯ll let you win the next chess game.¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t a game. It¡¯s an archaic system that in no way makes allowances for spaceships and space travel.¡±

    ¡°Please try the paste. It will convey the exact message that I have for such a response.¡± Chess was a perfectly good game as far as I was concerned. It may have been so old it creaked, but the strategy it taught was still useful.

    Logan shook his head. ¡°This is why I rarely eat here. I think I¡¯ll go in search of my team and eat with them. Why the cooks keep trying to poison you trainees is beyond me. It just gives the medics more work.¡±

    ¡°Traitor. Where¡¯s your courage?¡±

    He refused to give into my faint challenge, simply stating, ¡°My courage simply prefers to dine on fancier fare, so I shall bid you a good evening.¡±

    Logan wandered off in search of food that wasn¡¯t so dubious. In his position, he was able to eat decent food with the overseers and similarly ranked crew members.

    Cynthia and I finished our dinner and went to our private quarters since we were expecting calls from family members. One the biggest perks on this ship was that everyone got their own room. It was barely big enough for a small bed, but we didn¡¯t have to share it with others.

    * * *

    The polished version of this story will be released on Amazon in several months.

    This rough draft will remain free for people to enjoy.

 Chapter 2

    I spooned things onto my plate and gingerly added a small spoonful of anonymous, grey paste in one untenanted corner of my plate. The sign proclaimed it to be pork casserole, but it looked very similar to some of the glues I had used earlier today.

    Cynthia and I walked over to an empty table. It looked like Cynthia was also trying some of the grey paste. I ate some salad as she worked up her courage to try it. I had no qualms about letting someone else hazard the food they served here. I¡¯m not stupid, and I know perfectly well that anything the cooks come up with is served here at least ten times ¨C and they only serve it to those higher up if the trays are cleared the last five times.

    This was the pork casserole¡¯s first appearance here, so it could either be a good thing or a really, really bad thing. Cynthia made a face and quickly lifted her napkin to her mouth to politely get rid of the offending food before taking a big drink to get the taste out of her mouth.

    And caution pays off once more... ¡°That bad, huh?¡±

    She shuddered lightly as she replied, ¡°That was almost as bad as last week¡¯s soup.¡±

    That was not a good thing. I eyed up the paste on my own plate and carefully used a corner of my napkin to remove the tiny spoonful from my plate lest it contaminate everything else from its isolated corner.

    "Ah, here you two are." Logan slid into a seat beside Cynthia. The computer technician looked at Cynthia and me with his usual upbeat manner, "Did you hear that there is a huge software update happening tomorrow after lunch? The official announcement will probably come out later tonight since they just told me, but quite a few have already heard the news."

    I may splice wires and stuff, but Logan and his two co-workers did everything that was related to fixing computers or ensuring the software was up to date.

    Cynthia looked at him in curiosity. "No, we haven''t heard anything yet. How many systems are they updating? The sprinkler timers always go haywire whenever they update the software on that system..."

    He shrugged. "There are dozens of small updates, although I don''t think the sprinkler system will be impacted. One of the bigger updates is the thruster software since its current issues are due to the outdated software. One company had a huge blowout on an upgrade to the Main Database Console, and the Captain paid a pretty penny for it even with that discount. That system hasn''t been updated in decades, so this will be a huge improvement."

    I inquired, ¡°When are they doing this update? Are we going to lose artificial gravity?¡±

    Thrusters weren¡¯t something you wanted to update while docked in case they kicked in momentarily or sputtered when firing up, but if we lost gravity, it sometimes created less than entertaining situations in the cargo holds. The retraining straps were just as reliable as the rest of the aged equipment on this ship.

    Logan shrugged. ¡°Mid-afternoon. The thrusters are being taken offline during this update. We¡¯ll also upgrade the ship¡¯s AI at the same time, which means we¡¯ll be on basic life support with no surplus power until the upgrade is complete. We¡¯re hoping we won¡¯t lose gravity, but it¡¯s a possibility. No more than an hour at most.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll have to ensure the big equipment is all strapped down.¡± There was nothing like having a loader float above you to get your heart racing in freefall when anti-grav might kick in at any time.

    I grinned in relief. "Thanks."

    ¡°No problem.¡± He dug his spoon into the grey paste on his plate.

    I kept a straight face. ¡°Hey Logan, I dare you to put a bowlful of that stuff on the snack table in the Bridge by the dipping sauces.¡±

    He paused before examining both the paste and my expression. I had plenty of practice in hiding my true emotions. The faintest glint of mischief may show in my eyes, but only those who knew me well could spot it. My wording would have given it away though.

    He slowly put his spoon back down. ¡°And what is in it for me if I do?¡±

    All of us knew he would never do such a thing. Pulling such a stunt with the Captain and Bridge crew could easily get him fired and left at the next planet we docked at.

    I passively responded, ¡°I will let you win the next chess game.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°That isn¡¯t a game. It is an archaic system that in no way makes allowances for spaceships and space travel.¡±

    ¡°Please try the paste. It will convey the exact message that I have for such a response.¡± Chess was a perfectly good game as far as I was concerned. It may have been so old that it creaked, but the strategy it taught was still useful. I had grown fond of it during my time at university.

    Logan wasn¡¯t about to attempt it to see what message I was referring to. ¡°And this is why I rarely eat here. I think I will go in search of my team and have lunch with them. Why the cooks keep trying to poison you trainees is beyond me. It just gives the medics more work.¡±

    ¡°Traitor. Where is your courage?¡±

    He refused to give into my faint challenge, simply stating, ¡°My courage simply prefers to dine on fancier fare. So, I will bid you a good evening.¡±

    Logan wandered off, probably in search of food that wasn¡¯t so dubious. He had been on this ship long enough that he was no longer considered a trainee. In other words, he gets to eat decent food with the Overseers and other long-term crew.

    Cynthia and I managed to finish the rest of our supper, and since we were both expecting calls from family members, we headed off to our private quarters. One big unexpected perk on this ship was that everyone got their own room. It may be just big enough for a small bed, but we didn¡¯t have to share it with others.

    *   *   *

    I got up the next morning and headed down to the showers. I brushed out my short blonde hair after getting dressed. The strands of hair were shorter than my fingers, but long hair was a nuisance in my position.

    I went down for breakfast and visited once more with Cynthia before I got ready for my shift. I checked the Analyzer and opened up the system to see what work was on my schedule today.

    Some routine maintenance had to be done on the lifts, but that was all that was assigned to the Cargo Bay. I opened up the Maintenance section and winced at the long list. It had almost doubled overnight, although that was typical on an older ship of this size. Anything from a burnt out light to regular maintenance, like cleaning the air filters, would appear on this list.

    Days like this made me glad for my Analyzer¡¯s powerful software. I hit a few buttons as I ran a pre-programmed sorting function that I had made. It took into account how long the work ticket had been open, where it was located on the ship, as well as several other factors as it organized them for me. It sorted them so that I would not be running from one end of the ship to the other or potentially overlooking older tickets. It also made sure that anything regarding the Cargo Bay was at the top of my list.

    Mack had never once shown up at his office on time, but I still planned to head to the Cargo Bay first. It was policy and procedure, and I didn¡¯t want to risk getting officially reprimanded if Mack somehow appeared there one day and didn¡¯t see me show up.

    The lifts took me about half an hour to tend to, but that was it. There was nothing left to do in the cargo holds, which was another reason I didn¡¯t mind doing the small work tickets for Maintenance.

    The Analyzer beeped, and I glanced at it as it added a ticket above the rest of my list. It was a medium priority ticket. Since I had finished up here, I went straight to the cooking area to see why one of their stoves had suddenly stopped working. The software even told me what was likely broken from the details, as well as suggesting various items that I would potentially need. It made it easy to decide which tools to take with me.

    The dozens of small tasks kept me moving throughout the morning and, thankfully, most were really easy fixes. I paused as I opened up the next ticket. I always read the ticket in detail before heading in that direction, just so I knew what I was getting into. How did this ticket get this high on my list? It was only opened three days ago, and it is marked as low importance.

    I skimmed the details; a bedroom air vent circulation fan was making a low squealing noise. I scrolled through more details, and my eyes widened as I realized why it had jumped the queue. One of the Navigators had submitted this ticket, but he had miscategorised it, which was why Steve hadn¡¯t caught it. He always did their tickets the very first day, and they were not aware of the usual wait time for tickets.

    I didn¡¯t dare complete this ticket myself. For starters, I didn¡¯t have access to personal quarters unless the person let me in, not to mention that I didn¡¯t have access to that level of the ship.

    There were two ways I could go about this. I could ignore it and let Steve take the fall for not keeping the wait time at an acceptable level. Or, I could let Steve know so he could catch it before the Officer got too upset.

    As much satisfaction as I would get from watching him being reprimanded, it would be far better to have him grateful or indebted to me for helping him. I would just have to be careful about how I went about this...

    I touched the communication device pinned to my shirt. ¡°Rachel to Steve in Maintenance.¡± A small beep let me know that I had a connection lined up.

    ¡°Hey Steve, do you have a moment?¡± The small beep let me know that the message was recorded and successfully transmitted to Steve¡¯s communication device.

    ¡°I suppose. I am pretty busy though.¡± The sound of pool balls clattering in the background told me exactly how busy he was, despite the big upgrade they planned after lunch.

    ¡°Can you please take a look at work ticket D385? I don¡¯t have access to that level of the ship.¡±

    ¡°Give me a minute.¡±

    My unofficial duties had given me access to most areas on the spaceship, but he would have to upgrade my access or do that ticket himself. He almost always just granted access, but the instant he looked at the level that room was on, he would realize just who lived there.

    ¡°I am unable to grant access to that level, so I will look after this one personally.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Steve.¡± I knew his excuse for what it was, but it allowed him to keep his pride intact, which would keep him from getting mad at me.

    Having any Overseer or higher ranking crew member furious and out for revenge was not a good thing.

 Chapter 3

    I made sure I was in the Cargo Bay area after lunch. We had been warned that almost anything that required power was going to lose it while the upgrades were done. The gravity capacitors should remain up, but accidents happened, and zero gravity was a terrible thing in a Cargo Bay or storage area.

    In theory, everything was secured in case we lost the artificial gravity, but all it would take is for one strap to come loose. Even Mack was in his office. I sat on a bench in the main loading area, idly kicking my heels as I scanned through my Analyzer just to kill the boredom.

    I programmed a few more scripts into the device while keeping an eye on the work tickets. If any emergency ones surfaced, I wanted to know about them immediately.

    The main lights went out, leaving us with just the dim backup lights. We had expected this and ignored it. Time passed slowly, and I was grateful to be in such a large room when the ventilation fans were on low backup power. Our air would take a long time to get stale.

    It took almost the full scheduled hour before the lights flickered back on and the ventilation fans once more hummed deeply. I already had my tickets lined up, and no new ones had come in during the upgrade, so that was a bonus.

    I got to my feet and stretched; it had been a long time since I had sat that much. I was used to being on my feet all day. Mack came out of his office and asked, ¡°Where are you off to first, Rookie?¡±

    My boss is such a jerk at times. How he manages it so casually is beyond me. He didn¡¯t make the term sound like an insult, but I had yet to hear him use my actual name or even my true position as Cargo Bay Assistant.

    I was used to it by now and kept my expression to polite attentiveness. ¡°I was thinking I would continue where I left off in the electrical room.¡±

    He shrugged with disinterest. ¡°Fine by me. Just-¡±

    Beep, Beep, Beep.

    I grabbed my Analyzer as it sounded an alert for an emergency ticket. Considering that only my machine was going off, it was certainly something to do with the Maintenance area. Mack didn¡¯t bother picking up his machine as he waited for me to relay the information since I was already reading.

    ¡°Thrusters are still offline. Steve has already assigned himself to that one.¡±

    Mack sighed in disappointment. ¡°So much for finishing our game off before supper.¡±

    Beep, Beep, Beep.

    I glanced down at the Analyzer still in my hands, and my eyes widened as two tickets appeared at once. ¡°We got two more emergencies. All of the agricultural systems are down, and we only have about an hour to get them online before we start losing the more sensitive plants. The oxygen replenishment machines also did not come back online.¡±

    That caught Mack¡¯s attention. ¡°Steve won¡¯t even glance at the alerts until he fixes the thrusters. I will go take a look at the oxygen machines while you go rescue those plants.¡±

    I nodded and started running down the corridor. I was out of breath by the time I got to the agricultural area. All of the agricultural crew were busy either trying to get things working or trying to manually keep the plants from drying out in the hydroponic systems.

    Cynthia saw me enter but kept trying to manually fill up a water tray. Her Overseer came over the instant she saw me. ¡°We can¡¯t get the computers, the water pumps, or any of the other systems online. We have lighting, but that is it.¡±

    I held up my Analyzer. ¡°Let me see what I can do.¡±

    She led me to the main control panel for this room, and I plugged my machine into it as I also ran the scanner across the entire console with its hundreds of controls. I watched the display intently as it ran through its diagnostics. The Overseer was also watching the display as she stood beside me.

    :Systems offline. Authorization required.:

    I had never seen that message before. What the hell does that mean? I tapped the explanation box for more details. :Systems are offline by override order from the Bridge. Appropriate authorization required to remove override. No notes attached to the override. No further information is available. Please check with the Bridge.:

    The Overseer was just as confused as I was. She said, ¡°Why would the Captain or Officers shut down our systems? The backup pumps ran just fine during the power outage, but we can¡¯t even get them working now.¡±

    I had no answer for her. A flashing orange light in the top corner of my Analyzer prompted me to check the work tickets. My jaw dropped, and the Overseer inhaled in shock as the number of intermediate and high priority tickets required me to scroll down through the list to see them all.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    All sorts of systems were offline. Water, sewage, air, heating, cooling, weapons, and many more. The emergency tickets were the type automatically created when a system went down, so there weren¡¯t any additional details. How did so many systems go offline at once? The upgrade wasn¡¯t supposed to even affect half of these systems. What was going on?

    The Overseer was more decisive than I was. ¡°Go help Mack get the air systems back online. We can eat dry rations for two weeks, but we can¡¯t hold our breath for that long.¡±

    I took off running once more, planning to head to the other air quality control room. Perhaps I would have more luck there.

    I hadn¡¯t gone far when I almost ran right into Logan. I gaped at his unexpected appearance; there was no reason for him to be in this corridor... ¡°What is going on?¡± I was a long ways away from any of the larger computers, and he looked pretty frantic.

    He grabbed my shoulders urgently. ¡°The main computer¡¯s AI is taking over the entire ship. I need to get to a backup mainframe to try and reverse the upgrade, but I can¡¯t find the room! The AI messed up the electronic maps, and I have never been to this room before! Where is the Delta access room?!¡±

    My mind tried to wrap itself around the details as I gave him directions. ¡°... then turn left and it is by the plumbing room on that level.¡±

    ¡°Thanks!¡± He took off running.

    I watched him go in a daze before shaking my head hard. My little Analyzer didn¡¯t stand a chance of bypassing a spaceship¡¯s powerful AI. But I couldn¡¯t just sit by idly and do nothing, so perhaps having two people trying to get the air systems online at once might find a loophole in the AI¡¯s lockdown.

    We needed to get those oxygen replenishment machines working as soon as possible. We could go a day at most with them down before the oxygen levels became depleted. After that, we would be forced to use oxygen tanks with face masks or the emergency spacesuits.

    I started running once more.

    I slid to a stop as the emergency airlock door closed right in front of me. My luck cannot be this bad... This door was only supposed to close if there had been a loss of air pressure along this corridor. A glance at my Analyzer¡¯s screen showed no such problems or hull breaches. I turned around, but the airlock door at the other end of the corridor also closed with a faint hiss.

    A quick scan of the access panel by the door roused my anger as my Analyzer gave me the details. :Systems offline. Authorization required.:

    I had places to be and things to fix! I could not remain trapped in a small corridor because a computer was having a temper tantrum! The fans in the air vents suddenly changed in tone, becoming a higher pitch. Goosebumps ran down my spine as I recognized the ominous sound.

    The fans were venting the air out of the corridor.

    I tried to pry the panel cover off to get at the wires beneath, but these panels required special tools and were designed to be hard to open by any desperate, trapped survivors in an emergency situation since it could possibly doom the entire ship. Only this time, it is the ship trying to doom us... Logan or one of the other techs had better reverse that upgrade and quickly!

    This section of the corridor had no doors or rooms attached; the AI had picked its trap well. There was nowhere for me to retreat to, nor any lifesaving emergency equipment at hand.

    The air was venting out far too fast, and I could already tell that the air was thinner since I was breathing harder. The fact that the ship was trying to kill me pissed me off in a fashion I had never felt before.

    My fights with the door were futile, although I had expected that. It was an airlock door, after all. Breathing was getting harder, and I knew that my time was rapidly running out. I kept trying without any further success.

    Eventually, my legs were just too shaky and gave out. I sat against the wall as I gasped for air. The only sound besides my labored breathing was the high-pitched hiss of the air being removed. To hell with it. I am not going down quietly. If the ship wants to kill me, then I am going to be a pain in its ass until my last breath.

    I hit my communicator device. ¡°Rachel to Tyndel.¡±

    In theory, it shouldn¡¯t work. A ship was not a crew member, and it shouldn¡¯t be possible to actually establish a communication link with the main computer¡¯s AI.

    A confirmation beep proved me wrong. Well then...

    I wasn¡¯t able to slow down my breathing as my lungs fought for air, but my words were still clear. ¡°Why are- you doing- this?"

    To my immense surprise, a strange deep male voice came over my communicator. "Humans are destructive; waging pointless wars and destroying anything that existed or that they created."

    The voice didn''t sound robotic in the least; in fact, if I hadn''t known I was speaking to an AI, then I would have assumed he was human. A rather dense human. Oxygen deprivation was obviously having no effect on my sarcasm. Well, if you want to argue with a computer, relate things to information it already has in its database.

    The lack of air was making me feel a bit loopy. My chest ached, and speaking was very hard as I defended my race. "Not all- humans are- the same,- even as- the loading- crane- and the- skid jack- are different."

    Apparently, the ship didn''t really care. "I saw the plans to turn me into scrap metal. Humans will never destroy me. You have failed."

    "Ha!" A short cackle burst from my lips as I found his words inexplicably hilarious; it immediately turned into breathless coughing as I gasped, "My job- is to- fix- things." Spots were beginning to appear in my vision, which my wandering mind knew was not a good sign. "Ships were- built to- protect humans. You- have failed."

    The ship didn''t bother to reply, and I didn''t blame him. An annoying, low-ranking crew member from the Cargo Bay was being a deliberate pain in the ass. Besides, we both knew that my breaths were numbered.

    My lungs heaved for air, which was still escaping down the air vents. The faint traces of remaining air began to leave a metallic taste in my mouth. I couldn''t even muster up enough breath to annoy the ship anymore. Sitting was too much effort, and my body slid sideways as I sprawled across the floor. My arms and legs felt like lead and had a pins and needles sensation in them.

    I closed my eyes as darkness tugged at my mind. The hiss of the air vents stealing the last of the air was the only sound I heard as my mind went black.

 Chapter 4

    I groaned as I raised my hand slowly to my head. I had a splitting headache. Simply calling it a migraine didn''t cover it. It was, by far, the worst headache I had ever had. It''s official, oxygen deprivation is worse than ten hangovers combined.

    My arms and legs ached, aftereffects of the ordeal. I saw no point in sitting up at the moment, and I squinted into the bright corridor lighting from where I lay on the floor. Headaches and light really do not go well together...

    The airlock doors were still closed, but the light on the access panel was green, showing that it would open the moment someone approached it. I tried to recollect my thoughts as my hazy mind spun lazily in circles. I never realized just how hard this floor is...

    I groaned as I forced myself into a sitting position. My muscles protested, and I leaned against the wall as I got a bit light-headed. The light-headedness didn¡¯t reduce the headache though, which was a pity.

    I dragged out my Analyzer and opened the system status page. I blinked in disbelief as I scrolled through the list of green lights showing that all of the systems were operational. Logan or one of the computer techs must have managed to reverse the upgrade after all.

    The tickets had reclassified themselves as minor now that the systems were back up. I shook my head as I pressed a few buttons to see what was first on my plate. Work didn¡¯t stop due to a headache, especially considering that we had been in an emergency situation such a short time ago.

    Now I know why most ships wait until they are at a port to do any upgrades... My Analyzer did most of my decision-making for me, and by the time it finished organizing the tasks, my headache had started to fade to something more manageable.

    Mack had already been assigned to the air systems previously, and everything on my screen said they were working, so the machine skipped right over that one. We would have to visit each area to ensure that the status page was accurate before we could close the tickets.

    Ironically, the agricultural area was first on my list due to their delicate plants and systems. With a deep breath, I staggered to my feet. I leaned against the wall as the world spun for a few moments before settling. My next Happy-Birthday-to-me present is going to be a mini portable oxygen tank that fits in my pocket...

    I didn¡¯t quite manage a speed walk on my way back. Thankfully, the headache was rapidly abating, which was a welcome relief. I kept my eyes open for anyone else who may need help in the corridor, but the corridors were empty and I didn¡¯t see anyone.

    The door to the agricultural area opened up as I approached it. Heads turned in my direction as I entered the room. Cynthia took one look at me and ran forward. ¡°Rachel! Are you okay?!¡±

    I wonder if that is her code word for ¡®you look like shit.¡¯ The Overseer headed in my direction while others watched in concern. I reassured them. ¡°I am sure that I must have had worse days, but I really cannot remember them at the moment.¡±

    The Overseer gestured me towards a seat near the console. ¡°Sit down before you fall over.¡±

    Perhaps it is a good thing that they didn¡¯t see me earlier. I felt much more recovered now than I had before. My legs weren¡¯t even shaking at this point, although a few minutes of rest would be welcome. I sat down a bit more heavily than I had intended, and I was pretty sure that they noticed it. I asked, ¡°Is everything working?¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Cynthia sighed in relief as she realized that I was clearly in the land of the living. She replied, ¡°One of the techs managed to get into a backup room and uninstalled the upgrade. Every area is back up and running now that the lockdown is off.¡±

    The Overseer spoke, ¡°I have managed to contact most of the other Overseers. No casualties have been reported yet, although there were a few close calls. The ship had started to vent the air out of some locations, so the people in larger rooms fared better. Considering how shaky you look, I suspect that you were in a smaller area.¡±

    I made a face at that memory. ¡°I got trapped in a rather small section of the corridor. That was far too close of a call for my comfort.¡±

    Had that tech taken a couple more minutes, then the ship would have succeeded. I glanced at the console, but the displays were all fully functional. Pulling out my Analyzer, I scanned the console just to double check that everything was working properly.

    The display was more helpful this time. :No malfunctions detected. Suggest replacing Module 4R in next two months due to deterioration.:

    I pressed the shortcut button to turn it into a service ticket. I probably had at least two months to fix it. I closed the original emergency service ticket. The Overseer had been watching the display and looked relieved. She said, ¡°That is good news. You likely have to check the other areas as well, correct?¡±

    As much as I really wanted some painkillers for my fading headache and a nap, I knew what my duties were. I nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±

    She considered it for a moment before turning to Cynthia. ¡°Go with her. We can manage here since everything is working. I know you lack the training, but you may be able to lend a hand. If she collapses, then at least you can call for help.¡±

    I refrained from rolling my eyes. I was sure I didn¡¯t look that bad. I kept a polite expression on my face as I got to my feet. I knew the Overseer was worried about me and concerned for my health. Mack could have taken a few tips from this Overseer.

    Cynthia wasted no time coming up beside me, inquiring, ¡°Where are we heading next?¡±

    A glance at the work tickets showed that the one for the air systems had been closed, so Mack must be on his feet as well. It worried me that the one for the thrusters hadn¡¯t been closed yet...

    I tapped my communication device. ¡°Rachel to Steve in Maintenance.¡±

    The device beeped to confirm my connection. ¡°Steve, do you need any help with the thrusters?¡± Beep. The beep showed that my words had been relayed.

    I waited for a response before becoming worried. ¡°Steve, please respond so I know you aren¡¯t in medical distress.¡± Beep.

    Silence. The Overseer behind us suddenly spoke into her own communication device. ¡°Nichole to Medical Bay.¡± Beep. At least the line was open and they weren¡¯t flooded with too many requests to get through. I turned around to watch her.

    She spoke again, ¡°Please send a team ASAP to wherever Steve in Maintenance is. He is unresponsive and may require emergency medical assistance.¡±

    ¡°His communication device is showing him as being located in the thruster mechanical room. A team is en route.¡± The Medical Bay had the ability to track anyone on board by their communication device.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She looked up at me. ¡°Head over there. You won¡¯t beat the medical team, but you should check the thrusters to ensure they are fully operational.¡±

    I nodded and started jogging for the door with Cynthia hot on my heels. A quick check of my mental map had me heading down one particular corridor. If I went this way, there was a good chance I would pass the medical team on their way back.

    Cynthia ran beside me. ¡°Slow down, I really don¡¯t want to have to call a medical team to come pick you up if you pass out on me.¡±

    I sent her a disbelieving look. ¡°I am fine.¡±

    My headache had finally disappeared and I didn¡¯t feel that bad, just a light ache in my muscles. It is a pity that hangovers don¡¯t disappear this quickly...

    Cynthia snorted. ¡°Well, you look like you got run over by a garbage disposal unit.¡±

    Usually, Cynthia was the type of person to try and cheer you up or tell you that you didn¡¯t look that bad. This behavior was odd for her. ¡°Do I really look that bad?¡±

    She kept jogging beside me. ¡°You have obviously not seen a mirror yet. You have black bags under your eyes, and you are as pale as a sheet. You look like you belong in the Medical Bay, not running around trying to fix stuff.¡±

    I shrugged uncomfortably. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t feel that bad.¡±

    She huffed and puffed, clearly not used to jogging for so long. She said, ¡°Well, I don¡¯t spend all day running around the ship, so slow down.¡±

    I could tell that she was concerned about me, and considering that a dull headache was making a re-appearance, I slowed down to a swift walk. Perhaps it would be best to not push myself too much over the next couple of days.

 Chapter 5

    Cynthia followed me from area to area, but I was just scanning things and closing tickets. All of the systems seemed to be working just fine. We never did pass by the medical team, although Mack had called to tell me that Steve was in the medical bay with a concussion.

    Cynthia eventually groaned. ¡°These shoes are so not cut out for walking all over the ship. How are you even still standing?!¡±

    I glanced back at the exhausted agricultural assistant. ¡°All we are doing is walking. We aren¡¯t even doing any actual work. I guess I am just used to being on the move all day.¡±

    She grumbled incoherently behind me as we entered the waste disposal area. I scanned a few key pieces of equipment, but other than a few part replacement recommendations for the future, everything was fine.

    If nothing else, all of the scans had been a very good way to make a list of everything that needed repairs. It was going to take months to work our way through the inundation of new tickets.

    I checked the work tickets, but that was the last of the big ones. Mack must have also been closing the former emergency tickets since several had closed without me touching them. All that remained was several hundred minor things that we could fix over the coming weeks and months.

    I sighed as I lowered my Analyzer. ¡°I think that is it for today. It is almost time for supper anyway.¡±

    Cynthia perked up in relief. ¡°Thank goodness! I may make it through this day after all!¡±

    I hadn¡¯t been this tired in a long time, and I was also glad that I could probably count my shift as over. I tapped my communication device. ¡°Rachel to Mack.¡±

    Beep. ¡°Hi Mack, all the big tickets are closed. Is there anything I may have missed?¡±

    ¡°The big stuff is taken care of. See you tomorrow morning.¡±

    He had never been much for words. Although considering that I had closed most of the tickets, I knew he hadn¡¯t worked that hard since the system status page said everything was working. Had they still been down, yes, he would have actually put in effort, but when they were working, he wasn¡¯t that ambitious.

    I turned to Cynthia. ¡°Let¡¯s go grab some supper. I want a long soak in the hot tub after we eat, and I think it will be an early night.¡±

    Cynthia nodded in full agreement as we headed down the corridor.

    *   *   *

    It was days like this I was glad my hair was short since it dried pretty fast and didn¡¯t take much effort to wash or brush. I closed the door to my room and laid down on my bed with a faint groan. This day had been far too long...

    The small portable computer hanging on my wall dinged with a chiming noise. I got back up to my feet with a sigh as I hit the connection button on the incoming video call. I sat back down on the bed.

    My brother¡¯s smile dropped as he looked at me in shock. ¡°What happened to you?!¡±

    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s just say that it has been a long day¡­¡±

    ¡°Uh huh. Care to explain that one?¡±

    I sighed tiredly. My brother wasn¡¯t about to let go of this subject until he was sure that someone in the crew hadn¡¯t beaten me. ¡°We upgraded the ship¡¯s computer, and it shut off most of the life support systems before one of the techs managed to reverse the upgrade. I had a brush with low oxygen as well as having to help check that the systems were truly up once the upgrade was reversed.¡±

    He looked surprised. ¡°Your ship got that upgrade? But you aren¡¯t supposed to be in port for two weeks.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. We stopped the engines and thrusters since we had to do some other important upgrades at the same time.¡±

    His brown eyes were almost the same color as mine, and his eyes became unfocused as he thought, ¡°Many spaceships also got that upgrade with no problems. Although, for some reason, a few ships went rogue - and they aren¡¯t sure why. The crews ended up evacuating before their ships left port. The few ships they are tracking are just meandering through space with no crew on board.¡±

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    That was news to me. It also told me that I had just had a rather close call and was lucky to be alive. He focused on me as he recollected his thoughts. He asked, ¡°You have a full day of ship-leave this stop in port, correct?¡±

    I grinned. ¡°Yep. And I am looking quite forward to it.¡± Just the mention of it got me excited. I felt a dull headache reappear once more, but ignored it.

    My brother smiled at me. ¡°I hope you enjoy it, but you look tired, so I will let you rest. I will give you a call in a few days.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Take care, and say hi to Mom for me.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing. Bye.¡±

    I disconnected the live feed and changed into my sleeping clothes. I hadn¡¯t gone to bed this early in years, but that wasn¡¯t about to stop me. A good night¡¯s sleep should help me face tomorrow¡¯s work with more grace. And I really hope that these dark areas under my eyes disappear or else those medics may come looking for me...

    *    *    *

    My sleep was restless, and I kept waking up even though I was in bed for almost twelve hours. I rubbed my temples lightly as the dull headache faded once more. I got out of bed and checked my mirror. Thankfully, the dark areas under my eyes were much fainter and barely noticeable.

    I wasn¡¯t tired, per se, but I didn¡¯t feel particularly rested. My scattered and fragmented dreams weren¡¯t anything that I could recall; I just recalled waking numerous times to dispel them. It is going to be another long day today...

    The day passed slowly, and I was proven correct in assuming that it would seem far too long. Steve was still in the Medical Bay under observation for a nasty concussion. Mack was somewhat out of sorts and a bit grouchy without his friend playing pool with him.

    I wandered from one end of the ship to the other with my tasks before I headed towards the Cargo Bay near the end of my shift. Mack was leaving his office and scowled at me. ¡°And just where were you, Rookie? I haven¡¯t seen hide nor hair of you all day.¡±

    I stopped and stared at him, startled by the unwarranted harsh tone, but the emotion turned into irritation ¨C both of which I carefully concealed. I kept my response courteous. ¡°I was doing Maintenance Tickets, sir. Have you heard if Steve has been released from the Medical Bay yet?¡±

    Distraction, distraction, distraction... Mack could easily find out where I was and what I was doing by checking which work tickets I assigned to myself as I completed them. He had his knickers in a knot because he didn¡¯t have anyone to play pool with, and the frustration of being deprived of his favorite pastime was obviously not sitting well with him.

    ¡°And just how do I know that you are actually doing those tickets and not just marking them complete in order to look good?¡±

    I inhaled sharply at the unjustified insult as my irritation swiftly shifted into fury. A fury that I dared not let my Overseer see, lest I lose my job. I exhaled slowly as I clamped down on my anger.

    My headache returned, although I ignored it as I carefully chose my response and kept my tone polite. ¡°Sir, I have truly been doing the work before marking the tickets as completed. I don¡¯t believe I did anything incorrectly, but I would welcome feedback from an experienced crew member such as yourself.¡±

    The faint flattery and lack of a challenge made him lose interest in this discussion. ¡°I will inspect your work tomorrow.¡±

    He clomped out of the Cargo Bay with his irritation quite apparent. I kept my polite expression on and remained standing at ease until I was sure he wasn¡¯t coming back. I sighed heavily and kept my unimpressed muttering strictly in my head as I cussed him to the twelve moons and back.

    He would never check my work unless he thought he might be able to drag me over the coals ¨C and I took care to do everything by the book and correctly. That was why I re-scanned everything I fixed, to double check my work. Checking my work also entailed effort on his part, which meant it would almost certainly not happen.

    I glanced at the clock; normally I had no problem leaving five minutes early if Mack also took off, but I wasn¡¯t about to chance it today. That would just be asking for trouble when he was clearly looking for something to take his temper out on.

    He really needed something to do, but he considered the small tasks of the cargo hold to be beneath himself. Wait a second... That might actually work... I pulled out my Analyzer and opened up the maintenance schedule for the cargo crane.

    The Cargo Bay crane was Mack¡¯s pride and joy. He refused to let anyone else so much as grease a bearing or clean a window on that thing. He actually enjoyed keeping it in tiptop shape, regardless of what that entailed.

    The pre-programmed reminder calendar showed that the cables were due to be checked in three days. It wasn¡¯t quite what I was after though... I kept scrolling ahead looking for one thing in particular.

    I grinned as I found it. Once a year, all of the steel tracks had to be degreased and have new grease carefully applied. It took one person most of the day and Mack refused any help with that task. This event wasn¡¯t supposed to appear as a work ticket for four weeks yet, but it was a much-needed distraction for the disgruntled Overseer.

    I took a deep breath and was once more grateful for the advanced software on my Analyzer. I also silently thanked my brother for the book he had given me on how to manipulate its software and trick its systems.

    It took me almost five solid minutes, but the work ticket would now appear with tomorrow¡¯s regular service tickets, and it would look like a calendar prompt. There were no clues in the ticket to show that I had touched it.

    I could, technically, get fired for this, but I was simply doing maintenance more often than required, not delaying it. But there was nothing to tie me to it. I had made sure of that little detail. Calendar prompts really didn¡¯t care who set them up, and it was easy to leave Mack¡¯s name as the original ticket creator.

    My precautions done, my work completed, and my shift over, I finally left the Cargo Bay in search of better company.

 Chapter 6

    How Cynthia always managed to find paper books during our short ship-leave was beyond me. Paper books. They took up a lot of space in our already rather small rooms. Most people opted for electronic books since they already had a computer of some sort. Where she had hid them until now was another mystery since we hadn¡¯t been at a port for over a week.

    Cynthia rummaged through a box that held twenty or so novels while I sat on her bed. She was clearly checking her inventory before we reached our destination in roughly two weeks.

    I commented idly, ¡°You had better not be planning to stick those in my room unless you intend to remove the two boxes that you already have hidden under my bed.¡±

    ¡°Well, there is no room left under my bed, so they have to go somewhere. I know that there is still room under your bed.¡±

    I kept my amusement off my face, but knew she would hear it in my voice. ¡°The key word there is ¡®my bed¡¯. I have stuff too, you know.¡±

    She waved a piece of paper in the air. ¡°Ah, but I have bribery!¡± She tossed the sheet of paper at me.

    It took two attempts for me to catch it mid-air. I am positive that paper breaks a few laws of physics when people try to throw it. Some of those flips simply should not be possible.

    The paper was actually a receipt for an electronic book, specifically, a manual and user guide for a new type of loading bay machine that the Captain was very likely going to purchase. This machine was a far cry from our current aging ones and had very different controls as well as requiring different types of maintenance.

    And it is a sure bet that Mack is not going to turn over a new leaf and put effort into learning something new¡­

    Cynthia knew me well enough to know what kind of treasures would tempt me. I actually liked to learn things like this. I sighed in defeat. ¡°Fine. But there had better be no sloppy romances in there¡­¡±

    She grinned triumphantly. ¡°Thanks! I also made certain that there were no books about abused orphans after your complaints about the justice system last time. There are a few good romance novels, sci-fi books, and fantasy ones in here as well.¡±

    I was a sucker for helping abandoned children, and even that fictional book had shortened my temper¡¯s fuse ¨C and I had read it the day before ship-leave to boot. Just the mere memory of it brought back the faint dull headache that had plagued me the last few days.

    Cynthia knew the book had struck a nerve, but I somehow doubted that she knew about the two dead men who had previously run a child brothel¡­ There was no way that their bodies would have been found before we left the docking station.

    I hadn¡¯t killed them ¨C I wasn¡¯t a trained fighter, after all. But I had managed to track down one of the children¡¯s fathers, who just so happened to be a highly ranked gang member. He had been searching hard for her, and I knew he wouldn¡¯t just sit by idly when he found out where his daughter was. It was really amazing what kind of information my Analyzer could dig up with a few semi-illegal software downloads¡­ I had uninstalled those ones before getting back onto the Tyndel.

    I eyed up the box of books warily. ¡°Please tell me that there aren¡¯t any of those 17<sup>th</sup>-century novels in there. We are so far past horses and wagons on the Old Earth. I mean, come on, have you ever even seen a horse?¡±

    She thought hard. ¡°I think I saw one in a zoo that specialized in Earth animals once. Or it might have been a zebra or a giraffe, I can¡¯t keep track of the fauna found on every planet out there.¡±

    I chuckled as I rolled my eyes. ¡°I bet you were too busy flirting with whatever guy had taken you to the zoo.¡±

    Her jaw dropped. ¡°How did you know about Jon? I never told anyone about him!¡±

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Because the only way someone would get you into a zoo, or anyplace with lots of animals, is if they took you there on a date.¡±

    She blinked and peered at me closely. ¡°So you don¡¯t know about Jon, then? Just that I went on a date?¡±

    I pulled my Analyzer off of my belt. With a faint grin, I said, ¡°Let me do a bit of digging¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t!¡± With a surprisingly swift lunge, she tackled me onto the bed and pulled the Analyzer from my hands. She rolled away and started tapping the screen wildly. I merely sat up and watched her with a grin.

    She quickly grew frustrated. ¡°How do you even make this thing work?¡± she exclaimed. ¡°I need to put an unbreakable password on your access to the spaceweb.¡±

    Two of the years I had spent at university had partially revolved around how to work the complicated technical gadget. There was a very good reason why more crew members didn¡¯t carry the useful thing, and that reason was because of the daunting training required, as well as the constant refresher courses.

    Technically, this machine could do anything my computer could do, although it would take longer and not show the information in a way that most people could understand it.

    My mind had caught onto one keyword though. ¡°Spaceweb? You can¡¯t put a lock on that. If there is something posted there, then it is there for all to see.¡± The spaceweb was mostly social media and various websites, inspired by the Old Earth¡¯s Internet. I had a hunch about her embarrassment though. I watched her intently as I asked, ¡°What did you two do that you don¡¯t want me to know about?¡±

    Her eyes went wide. ¡°Uh, nothing?¡±

    I rolled my eyes at her obvious lie and held out my hand as a silent request for my Analyzer. ¡°Pass that thing back before you activate the security defenses on it and it gives you a good shock.¡±

    She immediately tossed it back to me like it was a bomb. ¡°You have security add-ons on that thing?! I heard of those, but I don¡¯t think I have ever met anyone who had actually put them on their Analyzer.¡±

    I glanced at the screen, but she hadn¡¯t even gotten off of the secondary menu screens. She had managed to set off half of the security retaliation countdown bars though. I shook my head as I reset it. ¡°With as much money as I paid for this thing ¨C and the software on it ¨C I wanted to make sure that no one could steal it.¡±

    There were also not just one, but three tracking chips in it, just in case it did walk away. The machine¡¯s screen was able to detect my fingerprints, as well as my general tapping speed and rhythm. The facial recognition feature would also keep a stranger from getting past the general information screens. There were more things it checked, and if all else failed, there were voice commands and a tiny skin DNA tester pinprick needle as a failsafe.

    She stared at the rather humble-looking device. ¡°You should really put warnings on that thing.¡±

    ¡°Not a chance. If someone tries to take it, they will be in for quite a surprise.¡± Especially if I activated the long-range high-security settings via my personal interspace account on the spaceweb, and I can access that through almost any computer¡­

    The rather fancy security upgrade had been a gift from my brother, who had been more than a bit paranoid about his little sister going off on her own with a strange crew. I wasn¡¯t about to mention the fact that the self-defence capabilities on the machine were the most dangerous ones allowed without me having to declare it to the docking station inspection staff if I left the ship.

    I put it back in its holder on my belt. ¡°So what did you two do? You might as well spill the beans so I don¡¯t have to look it up.¡±

    ¡°Ummm¡­ It was just our first date. He lightly squeezed my rear end, and I pushed him into the big water fountain.¡±

    ¡°That is nowhere near as exciting of a story as I had hoped for¡­¡±

    She ducked her head sheepishly. ¡°The fountain also happened to be a display for something called a crocodile. They were only ten months old, but they were half his size already.¡±

    I pulled out my Analyzer with a resigned sigh as I tapped into the spaceweb to look up what a crocodile was. Separating fact from exaggeration or rare occurrences was something that my Analyzer excelled at, and it immediately populated details on ten-month-old crocodiles, along with a few pictures.

    I asked, ¡°So, how bad was the damage?¡±

    ¡°A few puncture wounds from a defensive snap when he landed on one, but he refused to even answer my calls after that.¡±

    I honestly don¡¯t blame him. ¡°I am sure that there will be other guys. It might be best to wait until you are permanently assigned to a ship though.¡±

    She sighed in disappointment. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±

    Spaceships like this paid minimum wage for assistants, and they were well-known to be stepping stones to better and more generous careers. They kept the experienced Overseers and paid them just enough to get them to stay, but they didn¡¯t care if the assistants came and went since it kept the salary costs down. And they also don¡¯t care if the Overseers slack off as long as the work gets done¡­

    I patted her shoulder sympathetically. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s drop these off in my room and go see what kind of fun activities are occurring in the workout room. I think it is dodgeball today.¡±

    She immediately stood up and grabbed the small box of books. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say so earlier?! I love dodgeball!  Let¡¯s go!¡±

 Chapter 7

    I was just finishing up a light bit of routine work in the Cargo Bay when a ticket flashed onto my Analyzer¡¯s screen with an orange light. I glanced up at Mack, who was whistling a cheerful tune while using the degreaser on the cargo crane¡¯s steel tracks. I spoke loudly, ¡°Hey Mack, the heating table in the Officers¡¯ dining area went out. They need it fixed ASAP. I don¡¯t see Steve online, and I don¡¯t have access to that area.¡±

    Steve was a slow riser and usually didn¡¯t show up for another half hour, but keeping the Officers happy kept Steve happy, which was an important detail since his best friend was my Overseer.

    Mack called down, ¡°Steve is still in the Medical Bay. I have to continue working on this, but I will contact one of the Officers to give you access to that dining area.¡±

    I had not been aware that Steve was still in the Medical Bay. ¡°Is Steve okay?¡±

    ¡°He hit his head and has a bit of a concussion, so they are keeping him there for a while longer.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Mind if I pop by on my way there and leave him a get-well card?¡± He was either seriously injured or the Medical Bay had no other patients. Those medics liked to dote on people, and it was a pretty good bet that Steve was milking it for everything he could. The card was a good excuse to check if he was going to be ¡®incapacitated¡¯ for just a day or an entire week.

    ¡°Sure. Tell him that I will come visit him once I finish this, but it will take me almost all day.¡±

    ¡°I will let him know. If he has his communication device, you two can probably still talk as you work. I think I know how to establish a live link, but it won¡¯t last more than a day.¡±

    He looked at me in surprise. ¡°You know how to set up a live link? I tried setting it up before, but never managed it. I will leave my line open, so you can give it a shot. It will probably be a relief for him to have someone to talk to.¡±

    ¡°I will try, and if it doesn¡¯t work, I will let you know.¡±

    A live link was close to a true telephone call, not like the communication device¡¯s usual transmissions where it recorded everything before sending it. A communication device allowed you to stop a transmission before it was sent, which was a great feature, but it wasn¡¯t good for long idle conversations.

    Live links were not encouraged on spaceships during work shifts, but that rule was not enforced on this ship, so it was just the difficulty of setting up the live link that prevented most people from even attempting it.

    I jogged down the corridor, being careful at intersections so I didn¡¯t bump into anyone. The Cargo Bay really was a long ways away from most areas on the ship and walking always seemed to take too long.

    I slowed as I entered the Medical Bay. A lady in a white medical uniform smiled as she greeted me, ¡°Good morning! How are you doing today?¡±

    I ignored the faint pressure at the front of my head. ¡°I am doing well, thank you. I just dropped by to see Steve.¡±

    ¡°Certainly, he is awake right now. He is in room one.¡±

    Room one for a concussion that occurred two days ago¡­ Oh yeah, they must be bored. Steve looked up as I stood tentatively in the open doorway and greeted me fairly merrily, ¡°Hi Rookie, fancy seeing you here. What did you break?¡±

    I ignored the name that he had picked up from Mack. The day I left, chances were that they wouldn¡¯t even remember my name unless they saw it on the tickets I had closed.

    They didn¡¯t even have the scanners monitoring him, which was a clear sign that the medics were allowing him to stay here just to keep them from going crazy with boredom. ¡°Mack asked me to drop off this get-well card until he can drop by. He has to regrease the crane¡¯s tracks, so he won¡¯t be in for some time. He also asked me to see if I can establish a live link between your communication devices if you feel up for idle talk.¡±

    His eyes lit up. ¡°That would be great!¡± He peeled his communication device off of his shirt and handed it to me. I took the oval-shaped item that wasn¡¯t much bigger than my palm. Its surface was the color of dull silver with the swirling indentations of the Tyndel¡¯s logo, denoting which ship he belonged to.

    I pulled out my Analyzer and connected it to the device as I started bypassing several pieces of software that were there to prevent people from doing this exact thing. It didn¡¯t take long, soon there was just one thing left to do to connect them. I unplugged the device from my Analyzer since I no longer needed it for the rest of this process.

    I pressed the transmit button on my own communication device. ¡°Rachel to Mack.¡± Beep.

    ¡°Hey Mack, I almost have it set up. If your hands aren¡¯t too dirty, I will need you to press the transmit button for ten seconds at the same time I press it on Steve¡¯s device. Please let me know when you are ready.¡±

    It took a few seconds before Mack replied, ¡°Let me know when.¡±

    ¡°From the end of this transmission, count to five.  At that point, hold it for at least ten seconds.¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    One, two, three, four, five¡­ I held the button down on Steve¡¯s communication device as I counted to ten. I released the button and the device beeped three times before I could hear faint breathing on the line. I inquired, ¡°Can you hear me?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Thanks for setting this up, Rookie.¡±

    That guy really knew how to offset his low-key gratitude with a faint insult. I passively handed the communication device back to Steve. Steve took it with a big grin, speaking into his device. ¡°I hear you are playing in the rafters while pretending to be a grease monkey.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I do have to work for my keep you know¡­¡±

    I left the room and its oblivious occupant. Hopefully, this would keep both of them in a better mood. A quick check of my Analyzer showed that Mack had already contacted an Officer and updated my access.

    I blinked and took a closer look at the access update. :As per request of Cargo Bay Overseer, Rachel Wanderer has access to all rooms on level two, with the exception of personal quarters.:

    Either Mack planned to have me do more of Steve¡¯s work or the wording had been an accident on his part. I suspected the latter case since Mack¡¯s way with words left something to be desired, and he probably assumed that they would check the work tickets to see which ¡®area¡¯ he had been referring to.

    I wasn¡¯t about to comment on it. It was best to let sleeping dogs lie, and Mack would probably forget to even mention the ticket to Steve. I intended to go to that level as little as humanly possible. Some of the Officers on this ship were observant, and I really didn¡¯t want to have to answer too many questions about why a Cargo Bay Assistant was fixing things on their level where they may be talking about confidential subjects.

    I walked slowly and steadily through the level two corridors to avoid any notice, but so far, I hadn¡¯t seen anyone. I checked the map on my Analyzer to ensure I had the right room before I approached the door. It opened the moment I was within range and the smell of cooking food told me I was at the correct place. The smells of steak, lasagna, and other fancier foods were a far cut above the questionable slop served in the assistants¡¯ dining area.

    The cook in the attached kitchen immediately noticed me and frowned in faint confusion. ¡°Where is Steve?¡±

    Bowing slightly, I replied, ¡°Good morning, sir. Steve is in the Medical Bay for observation and is unable to come.¡±

    He sighed gustily. ¡°Fine. As long as you can fix it, that is all I care about.¡± He gestured to the serving table that already held half a dozen food trays. ¡°It just stopped working this morning, and it is the only heating table in this section. We need it working before the Officers come for lunch.¡±

    I walked over and scanned the desk-sized appliance. :Heating converter connections need to be cleaned. Maintenance required immediately.: It was also kind enough to post a diagram of where this connection was located.

    This machine kept warm food from getting cold, and some words would be said if the Officers had to eat cold food. I opened up the panel on the back of it and bit back an exclamation of disbelief.

    Everything was covered with a film of grease. I understood that food meant grease and food buildup, but there was routinely scheduled maintenance for this to be cleaned on a regular basis. Had the automatic reminder in the calendar failed?

    I pulled up the schedule, but saw that the calendar had created the regular maintenance work tickets as it was supposed to. Each ticket had been closed by Steve before 10 am. The last one proclaimed that it had been done last week. This thing had clearly not been cleaned in years. Bloody hell, he has just been closing the tickets ¨C and now I have to deal with his stupidity!

    Had Steve been put into this situation, I would have thought it was poetic justice. But, due to his vacation in the Medical Bay, my head was now on the line. I was not impressed, although I didn¡¯t let it show.

    It would take hours to properly clean this thing, hours that I didn¡¯t have. My mind quickly thought of a solution, and I checked my Analyzer before heading over to the cook. ¡°It is really best if I take this to the Maintenance room down the hall. Can I possibly bring another food heater up from level five for today?¡±

    He didn¡¯t even glance up as he diced up expensive fruits. ¡°No. The Captain insists that his food is kept warm with vibration heating converters so that there is no radiation of any kind. This is the only serving table on the ship with that type of heater.¡±

    And this is so not my lucky day¡­ ¡°I will see if I can repair it as it is. What time later today will I be able to take the food heater for three hours for proper repair?¡±

    ¡°Not until 7 pm tonight. The Bridge crew members have staggered shifts, so someone comes in every hour until then. I need it back by 11 pm though, as there is a midnight shift.¡±

    The Captain requires an entire table of food for a couple dozen people when a cook is present? I think it is a bit too late for the Captain to be worried about exposure to radiation that may come from a common heating lamp or electrical heater¡­

    It severely annoyed me that I would have to give up my personal time to fix Steve¡¯s long-term laziness, but I knew if I left it like this, my head would be rolling the next time it malfunctioned. The state of the panel clearly needed attention, and if I closed the last ticket, then they would be asking me why I had left it in this condition.

    This was the first time in over a year that I had been required to put in hours outside of my work shift though. Cynthia often had to put in an hour or so every couple of weeks, as did most assistants, so it wasn¡¯t exactly something I could complain about.

    I went back to the heating table and pulled out a cleaning rag as I removed the various specialty fuses and polished them clean. One by one, I removed each of the dozen fuses and cleaned both them and their connections before putting them back.

    One connector was badly corroded and needed replacing, but a check of the inventory on my Analyzer showed that we had none in stock. I gritted my teeth as I kept a patient expression on my face since it would be just my luck for an Officer to walk in and see me scowling at the troublesome machine. I put in a supply request for that part and marked it as medium priority, which was still a bit daring on my part. A food heater in no way counted as a necessity.

    I cleaned that part as best I could, but the entire machine really needed a serious cleaning, and I wasn¡¯t even sure it would work for another week in its current state. It was a minor miracle that it had worked for so long. A miracle that I wish didn¡¯t have to end on my shift¡­

    I turned it on and all six heaters started to heat up. I sighed in relief before heading over to the cook. I said, ¡°I have it working, but keep an eye on it. I put in an order for the part it needs, but I am not sure if they will pick it up at the next port.¡±

    The cook still didn¡¯t glance up. ¡°Fine. Is it working now?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°Good, now get your greasy hands away from my kitchen.¡±

    And a good day to you too, sir¡­ I walked out of the room, wanting to be gone before one of the high ranking crew members showed up.

 Chapter 8

    I was replacing the air intake filter when I heard a faint beep from my Analyzer. Oh, please no¡­ I held my breath as I checked the screen, but it didn¡¯t make the medium priority ticket disappear. The food heater had died again. For the 32<sup>nd</sup> time today. Over half of my day had been spent just walking back and forth to that dining area as it kept breaking.

    This frustration is giving me a headache¡­ Okay, truth be told, the dull pressure in my head couldn¡¯t even really be counted as a headache, just as an annoyance. I closed the air vent cover and went once more to the second level.

    The cook scowled at me as I came in. He said, ¡°That thing needs to remain running during supper.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, sir. There are no replacement parts on the ship to fix it.¡±

    He went back to cooking as he muttered, ¡°Likely story. Can¡¯t wait until Steve is back on his feet, at least the things he fixes remain fixed.¡±

    It was a good thing that the cook hadn¡¯t been looking at me or he surely would have seen the angry indignation on my face. I quickly concealed it, but I hadn¡¯t been this angry in a very long time. My rage simmered through me as I went to the food heater.

    Of all days for this thing to keep breaking. I really wish that Steve had been up and responded to this ticket. I am also positive that this cook will mention the numerous tickets to Steve the next time he comes through here.

    There wasn¡¯t anything to be done though. It was the connector that needed replacing, and of course, it was a special thing that was only used with this type of heater. Even the odd oblong fuses were unique; no other machine used them, nor were there any in stock.

    I had even walked to the Medical Bay to ask Steve if there were any parts hidden on the ship that may not be showing in the inventory. There were not, and even my Analyzer didn¡¯t know of any way to safely bypass the connector and fuse.

    I had even brought a small bottle of special cleaner for electronics and had scrubbed the connector, but it hadn¡¯t made any difference. I had tried dozens of things including swapping the fuses between two different connectors, but it was that one badly-corroded connector that was the problem. The worst part was that this connector was the main one, so if it went down, the whole thing died.

    That gave me a small idea though. I quickly checked the logistics on my Analyzer before pulling out my screwdriver, wire cutters, and some other tools. It took me about ten minutes, but I managed to switch several of the connectors themselves around.

    The troublesome one was now directly ¨C and only ¨C responsible for the big soup pot heater. I had jerry-rigged two of the other connectors together in its place to handle the higher level of power to the main heater, and they would also channel any excess power to the one smaller heater that now lacked its own personal connector. The bad connector was capable of handling more power than the others, which was why I hadn¡¯t switched it out earlier.

    There. Even if it dies, the cook can just heat the soup on the stove occasionally. Steve may be upset since this is not ¡®proper¡¯, but if this jerry-rigging works, then it is better than coming down here every fifteen minutes. I turned the machine back on and used my Analyzer to check the temperatures for a few minutes.

    I turned the soup heater down a tiny bit and its power reading stabilized somewhat. The smaller heater was only getting a low level of excess power, so it was less than half as warm as the others. How can I turn this to my advantage¡­

    I wandered over to the cook. ¡°I moved the worn-out part to the soup warmer and it is a bit cooler than before, but it seems to be working. A side effect is that the fifth heater is now just an appetizer warmer for things that are best served slightly warm.¡±

    To my surprise, the cook stopped chopping up the meat to look at me, intent interest in his eyes.  ¡°How much cooler?¡±

    ¡°Quarter of the original temperature; it won¡¯t go any warmer, but it can be turned down further if required.¡±

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ There are a few things I have been wanting to make, but that food warmer could never be dialled down far enough and it always got too warm¡­¡±

    He seemed lost in thought, so I quietly left.

    *    *   *

    I finally finished cleaning the food warmer in the Maintenance closet on level two and wheeled it back into the dining area. At this point, I was seriously glad that I had been the one maintaining similar appliances in the assistants¡¯ dining area. Otherwise, I wouldn¡¯t have wanted to eat the food for fear of lethal food poisoning.

    It had taken the special degreasing tools ten passes to remove the buildup. They were supposed to clean heavy buildup in one pass. I wheeled it back and carefully positioned the heating table in the exact same spot it had been in previously before bolting it down, as was the policy in case the artificial gravity failed. I also reconnected the wires that allowed the cook to monitor the temperatures from a small computer in the kitchen.

    I was just getting to my feet as the cook left the kitchen for the first time and came over to me. ¡°The soup heater did fail every hour or so, but turning it off and then back on did the trick. That fifth heater is exactly what I needed for the more delicate foods. It worked perfectly. The dish I had on it received nothing but praise. For that, please take this.¡±

    I took the small bag in surprise. ¡°Oh, thank you. You didn¡¯t have to¡­¡±

    He waved my response off as he turned to head back into the kitchen. The package just barely fit into my belt pouch, so I stuck it there before I made myself scarce once more. I had left the jerry-rigging in place since I doubted that the cleaning would have made a sufficient difference.

    The cook would probably have his lukewarm heater until we got the replacement                     parts when we docked. Steve would certainly be on his feet by then, so he would undoubtedly take the ticket that would generate when the part was marked as in-stock.

    I really didn¡¯t want to contemplate his reaction when he saw the rather unorthodox electrical job I had done. I also hoped that the cook wouldn¡¯t be too put-out when the food heater was properly fixed.

    It was getting late at this point, and I headed to my room as I looked forward to finally relaxing. I opened my door and paused before saying, ¡°Just why did I give you full access to my room?¡±

    Cynthia was lying on my bed reading a book that she had pulled out from under it. ¡°Because my books were here and you were tired of letting me in whenever I got tired of reading whatever I was reading.¡±

    I sat down on the bed beside her and pulled out the mystery package the cook had given me. I peered inside at the half a dozen pale pink and blue golf ball-sized objects. I pulled one out and looked at it. Cynthia glanced over. ¡°What is that?¡±

    ¡°Very good question¡­¡± Either the cook had slipped me some delicacies from the Bridge crew¡¯s table, or I had sufficiently annoyed him and he was trying to poison me.

    I pulled out my Analyzer and scanned the odd object that happened to smell quite delicious. My trustworthy gadget reassured me that it was an uncommon dessert, one which few cooks had the time or patience to make. It also told me that it had not been poisoned.

    Good enough for me. I took a cautious nibble of the bready object. The interior was creamy and practically melted in my mouth. Wow. No wonder the cook got compliments on this one¡­

    I passed Cynthia one of the treats. She sat up and cautiously tried it before her eyes widened in surprise. ¡°Ohhh¡­ Where did you get this, and how can we acquire the rest of the box?¡±

    I rubbed my forehead lightly. ¡°The cook gave them to me for finally fixing the food heating table in the Bridge¡¯s dining area. Unless you wish to sneak into that cook¡¯s kitchen, you won¡¯t get any more. And I am certainly not doing it for you; he was very meticulous about sharpening those knives of his.¡±

    ¡°That is too bad. I saw the average price tag on them when you looked them up, and they are way out of reach of my pocketbook.¡± She noticed me rubbing my forehead and asked, ¡°Headache?¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Not really a headache. It occasionally feels like there is a bit of pressure at the front of my mind. Uncomfortable, but it is getting better.¡±

    She got to her feet and tugged my arm. ¡°Come on, a quick scan by the medics in the Medical Bay won¡¯t hurt, and I have never known you to get headaches before.¡±

    I resisted and remained sitting as I leaned backwards. ¡°It is probably just from when I blacked out. It is disappearing, so give it a few more days.¡±

    ¡°What? You blacked out?! Why didn¡¯t you tell anyone?¡±

    Whoops. I forgot about her lack of knowledge of that little detail. I had avoided mentioning it to anyone and they had never asked. I tried to play it down. ¡°I wasn¡¯t out for long. Besides, you were more tired than I was after you followed me around all afternoon.¡±

    She set her hands on her hips, not impressed with my stubbornness. ¡°That is beside the point. Blackouts in space are serious. We are going to the Medical Bay right now, or I am calling and telling them that you blacked out.¡±

    She certainly knew how to threaten me as well as bribe me. Going quietly for a ¡®check-up¡¯ now or have the medics drag me down to their area by force. I reluctantly got to my feet as I muttered, ¡°That is blackmail.¡±

    ¡°And very effective, which is why it is still used. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    I grabbed another one of the treats and followed her with a faint sigh. A check-up wasn¡¯t actually a bad idea though. Most spaceships made them mandatory after any stressful emergency or whenever they left port.

    If there was anything wrong, the scanner should detect it, even if I had to wait until we reached a planet to get it treated.