Green Comet

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Blunt turns over a new leaf.

Please join in the conversation. If you like this, let someone know so they can enjoy it, too.

rjb

Chapter Forty-Three – The Apology

The next day they settled into the routine they would follow for most of the flight. Since they each slept for one-third of the day, and there were four of them, it didn’t naturally come out even the way the space station did. What they did instead meant that sometimes all four of them would be up together for a few hours, at other times three of them, and never less than two. The schedule ensured that all combinations would occur at least once during the trip. This morning saw Tallgrass paired up with Wayfarer, while Steel and Blunt slept.

Tallgrass said, “How far are we now, Wayfarer?”

She laughed. “Are you going to ask me that every five minutes?”

“No,” he said archly, his chin up and his nostrils flared. “Only every time we’re on shift together. And maybe when you’re on and I’m not. And when I get up. And …”

“Okay,” she said, still laughing. “I get the picture.” She checked her instruments, looked at the ship’s clock, which displayed the flight time elapsed, and punched the keys on her calculator. She said, “We appear to be just over two hundred thousand kilometers out.”

That was just over one-fifth of the distance to Grasswind’s L1 Lagrange point. “Still right on schedule then,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “On schedule and all systems functioning normally.”

“And the flip will be the day after tomorrow.”

“First thing,” she said. “According to our shift schedule, you’re going to be sleeping at the time.”

“No,” he said. “I might be scheduled to be sleeping, but I’m going to be up for that, if only to make sure Blunt doesn’t mess it up.”

“Hey,” she said. “He’s still part of the crew.”

“You’re right,” he said. “I should probably give him the benefit of the doubt. But I’ve known him a lot longer than you have, and he hasn’t changed much in all that time.”

“I know,” she said. “I know you guys have a history. But what’s done is done. Time for a fresh start.”

“Yes,” he said. “A fresh start.”

“Speaking of fresh,” she said, “have you noticed the sanitary facilities?”

“No. What about them?”

“They’re really fresh and clean lately. I noticed after Blunt got dressed down by Supervisor Steel.”

“Come to think of it …” said Tallgrass.

“I think he’s really taking his maintenance duties seriously now.”

“You could be right. Maybe he can change after all.”

“I think so,” she said. Then she quietly added, “Do you think he really would have done it?”

He thought he knew what she meant, but he asked anyway. “Do I think who would do what?”

“Supervisor Steel. Do you think he really would have, you know, put Blunt out the airlock?”

Tallgrass thought about it, then he said, “Not for that, no. But for something that was a real threat to the mission, and with no other option, yes.”

Wayfarer shuddered. He could see the ripples in her scales. Then she said, “Yes, me too.”

They looked at the curtains closed over two sleeping alcoves, then they looked at each other. After a long shared look, they turned their eyes down to their control panels.

After four hours it was time for Wayfarer to take her sleep break, and for Blunt to come on duty. Tallgrass was not looking forward to it. He’d have to spend four hours alone with Blunt before the Supervisor got up, then four hours with both of them before Wayfarer’s sleep period was over. Then all four of them would be up together for a while, until it was Tallgrass’s turn to sleep. Or, this time, not sleep while he observed the flip and the beginning of deceleration.

It was uncomfortable. Blunt freshened up in the sanitation alcove, and Wayfarer ducked into it as soon as he came out, leaving the two of them to work out their new relationship. They didn’t speak, and their eyes met only briefly before they ignored each other. Tallgrass even tried to get his prey eyes to not see Blunt. He couldn’t do it, but he tried.

He couldn’t help but notice, then, when Blunt floated over and hovered behind him. Tallgrass finished a scan of his panel, then turned around and waited. If Blunt wanted something, if there was something he wanted to say, then the next move was up to him.

It was clear that Blunt did want to say something. He kept beginning, and then stopping and looking everywhere but at Tallgrass, who continued to wait. He could have said something to help things along, but he didn’t see any reason to make it any easier. After almost a minute of awkward silence, Blunt took a big breath and let it out in a sigh, his shoulders slumping, then he said, “I want to apologize.” He stopped, peering at Tallgrass, who said nothing. “Okay, it’s up to me, I guess,” he said.

Tallgrass nodded.

Blunt continued, “So I want to apologize to you for pulling those pranks. I know it was wrong, now. I know that I endangered the mission a little bit. And I’m sorry I pulled the pranks on you and got you in trouble.” He stopped and crossed his arms, looking up from under his brow.

Tallgrass nodded again, then said, “Thank you, Blunt. That’s a big step, and I appreciate it. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you so, like I said, I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah,” said Blunt, turning to go back to his station. But he stopped and faced Tallgrass again. He said, “You still ratted me out, Runny. I’m not going to forget that.”

As Blunt turned away again, Tallgrass turned back to his panel, a tight, wry smile stretching his mouth.

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Blunt goes too far.

Please join in the conversation. If you like this, let someone know so they can enjoy it, too.

rjb

Chapter Forty-Two – The Joke

Tallgrass knew a bit about machinery. He had seen working machinery, and he knew what a camshaft looked like. That’s how he visualized his mind looking as he tried to sort out the last couple of days. Everything that had happened was bright and clear in his mind. The problem was, there were so many of them that they kept bumping each other out of the way. They kept bobbing in and out of view like the cams on a camshaft.

The last week had been an agony. A combination of trying to get all the preparations for launch done in a rapidly diminishing time, and time seeming to drag as he looked forward to the day. The final two days were a flashing sequence of activities, including the send-off party, attended by nearly everyone who wasn’t on duty at the time. Everyone in Mission Control, from the Mission Control Specialists to the security guards, wanted to shake his hand and wish him luck. Then there were the last few hours where they were strapped into their acceleration harnesses, waiting for the moment to launch.

At last they took off, and that memory was one of noise and pressure and violent shaking, and the feelings of fear and excitement. Then they were on orbit, docking with the space station, meeting the crew, seeing their ship, the Emissary, for the first time, and accelerating out of Grasswind’s gravity well. A day later they were still getting used to their new surroundings when they lost Mission Control. And he almost lost Seagrass again, for the second time. And that made him think of the first time, in the auditorium, with the awful, bloody wounds on his friend’s body. And later, the shrunken form on the pad in the hospital room.

All this was jostling in Tallgrass’s mind as he stood, hovering at his station, staring at the instruments without seeing them. Instead he was seeing the faces of the people who shook his hand at the pre-launch party, and wondering which of them were among the twenty who were killed, and the ten who were injured. Then they bobbed out of sight as the camshaft turned, and up came something else.

He snorted and shook his head, then bore down hard on his instruments. The work he was trying to do now wasn’t critical. It wasn’t even scheduled. He was just doing it to try to occupy his mind, so he wouldn’t get caught up in an endless cycle of grief and speculation. He knew that his crewmates must be going through something similar. Supervisor Steel and Mission Specialist Wayfarer were in their respective alcoves with their curtains drawn. He guessed they were either sleeping, or in quiet contemplation. He knew everyone had their own way of dealing with things. He could sense Mission Specialist Blunt moving around, apparently tending to his maintenance duties.

Finally, after staring blindly at his instruments, he began to see them, and something was wrong. Nearly every instrument on his board was giving the wrong readings. Nothing was wildly wrong. Nothing was in a danger area and there were no alarms or warning lights activated. Everything was just a little bit off. He was checking knobs and tapping dials when Blunt said close behind him, “Problems, Runny?” His voice was quiet so only Tallgrass could hear him. And it was insinuating.

In that moment, Tallgrass knew what was going on. He said, “What did you do, Blunt?”

“Me?” said Blunt, in transparent innocence.

“Fix it, Blunt. Right now.” Tallgrass pushed away from the control board.

“What’s wrong?” said Blunt. “Why so grumpy? Your problem is you have no sense of humor.” He grabbed Tallgrass as he headed for Steel’s alcove. “Where are you going? It’s just a little fun.”

Tallgrass looked at him and said, “I told you last time. One more practical joke and I’m reporting you.” He tried to shake off Blunt’s grip.

Blunt squeezed harder and spoke into Tallgrass’s face. He said, “I wouldn’t if I were you. Not if you know what’s good for you.”

Tallgrass stared back, unflinching. “You might just have time to get it back to normal before he gets out here.”

Blunt’s threatening scowl held for a moment before it changed to a look of panic. He let go of Tallgrass’s arm and flew over to his station, where he frantically made adjustments. By the time Steel came out and flew over to him, he was trying to look nonchalant, and looking unmistakably guilty.

Steel moved up close, and Blunt instinctively drew his head back. The Supervisor’s voice was low and calm, and it was terrifying. Even Tallgrass got a chill from it, and it wasn’t even directed at him. It made Blunt back up, and he seemed to shrink. Steel asked, “What have you been doing, Blunt?”

“Nothing,” said Blunt. “It was nothing. Just a little joke.”

“A joke?” Steel’s face was horrified. Outraged. “Do you think we’ve been sent out here as a joke?” When Blunt didn’t reply he said, “Well, do you?”

Blunt stammered, “No, sir, but …”

“No. That’s right. We haven’t. Then, do you think we can improve the mission’s success by playing jokes?”

“No, sir, that wasn’t …”

“No. So, do you want to tell me what you were doing? What you hoped to accomplish?”

“Well, sir, it was … I was trying … I just wanted to lighten things up. You know, after what happened.”

“You’re talking about what happened at Mission Control?”

“Yes. Yes, sir. I just wanted to help.”

“So, you thought you’d help by messing up our instruments.”

“No, sir! I mean …”

“Do you know what my job is on this ship, Mission Specialist Blunt?”

“Well, sir, you’re like, the boss.”

“That’s right. I’m like the boss. And that means the success of the mission is my responsibility, and to that end, I’m supposed to ensure that the members of my crew do their jobs.” Steel took a breath and said, “Do you know what your job is, Blunt?”

“Yes, sir!” said Blunt, relieved to have a question that he could answer unequivocally. “My job is maintenance. To ensure the correct and efficient operation of all the ship’s systems.” He held his head up proudly. Then, when Steel left him enough time to think about it, he began to see the problem.

Steel spoke slowly and quietly, while Blunt squirmed, aware of what was coming. “The correct and efficient operation of all the ship’s systems,” he repeated. “Was that your goal when you messed up Mission Generalist Tallgrass’s instruments? When you had your little joke?”

“But it …” began Blunt, stopping when he saw Steel’s face. “No, sir,” he said, dropping his head. “It was wrong. I see that now. It won’t happen again.”

“Good,” said Steel. “It had better not, and I’ll tell you why. As part of my duty to ensure the success of this mission, I have the authority to deal with all threats to it, using my best judgement. That means I have the authority to do whatever I think is best, up to and including throwing you out the airlock, Blunt. Do you understand?”

Blunt’s eyes were wide and his mouth was agape. He swallowed and said weakly, “Yes, sir. But I was just …”

“Don’t say another word,” growled Steel. When Blunt merely shook his head, Steel turned to Tallgrass and said, “As for you, Mission Generalist Tallgrass, you’re going on report, too. By not reporting this dangerous activity immediately, you endangered the mission just as much as he did. Don’t let it happen again.” He turned toward a sleeping alcove with a closed curtain and raised his voice. “Mission Specialist Wayfarer,” he said. When she poked her head out, eyes wide, he said, “Did you know anything about this?”

“No, sir,” she said quietly.

“Tallgrass never talked about it? Blunt never played a joke on you?”

“No, sir.”

Tallgrass said, “She didn’t know anything, sir.”

Blunt said, “I never …”

“Fine,” said Steel. “That is all, then. Carry on.” He floated over to his alcove, went in, and firmly shut the curtain.

Wayfarer looked at them, then pulled her head back in and tugged her curtain shut.

Blunt looked at Tallgrass, his expression a mixture of his conflicting emotions, including a flicker of resentment that showed as he turned to get back to work.

Tallgrass looked at his back for a while, then shook his head and sighed. He took a deep breath and looked at his instruments, thinking of camshafts.

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

They find out why they lost contact with Mission Control.

Please join in the conversation. If you like this, let someone know so they can enjoy it, too.

rjb

Chapter Forty-One – Carry On

It was almost an hour before they made contact again. Finally, in response to one of Wayfarer’s transmissions, they received, “Emissary, this is Mission Control, over.”

She said, “Mission Control, this is Emissary. It’s good to hear you again. What happened?”

“Mission Control is offline. This is our backup site. There was some confusion when the primary site went down, so it took a while before we got this one activated.”

Tallgrass recognized that voice, and he moved toward the communication station as Wayfarer said, “What happened? Why did they go off the air?”

“This is Mission Specialist Wayfarer, isn’t it? Is Supervisor Steel handy? Could you put him on, please?”

As Steel moved for the microphone, Tallgrass told him, “That’s Deputy Director Trueway. I recognize his voice.”

“I see,” said Steel, his eyebrows up. He took the microphone from Wayfarer and said, “Deputy Director Trueway, this is Supervisor Steel.”

There was a short hesitation, more than the small time lag caused by their distance, then Trueway said, “Of course. Tallgrass recognized my voice, didn’t he? Is he there?”

“Yes, Deputy Director. We’re all here.”

Another short pause, then, “Of course. There’s nowhere else to be, is there? My apologies, Supervisor. It’s been hectic here. And there’s the shock.” He paused, then said, “There’s been an incident at Mission Control. That’s why they’re off the air. And it took a while before we figured out what was going on and activated the backup here.”

“An incident?” said Steel.

“Yes,” said Trueway. “There was an explosion.”

Simultaneously, Steel said, “An explosion?” and Tallgrass said, “Seagrass!”

“Yes, Supervisor Steel. We haven’t fully assessed the damage yet, but it’s plain that it won’t be operational again for some time.” He paused again, and they could hear him riffling papers. Tallgrass pictured him at his desk, high above the gleaming sea. He recalled being there with Seagrass. He caught himself reaching to take the microphone and ask about his friend. Trueway came back on. “So far, I’m sorry to say, we’ve confirmed twenty dead and ten more injured.” Then he added, “Seagrass is here with me, and he wants me to assure Tallgrass that he’s okay.”

Tallgrass felt all the muscles in his body slowly relaxing while Steel said, “We’re glad to hear that. And of course saddened to hear about the others. Was it the LLL? How did they get in?”

“We’re assuming it was,” said Trueway. “As far as we know, there’s no one else who would go this far. All we can say so far is that nobody got in from the outside. And it was definitely a locally detonated bomb, and not something sent in on a rocket.”

Tallgrass said, “So it was someone who was there all along?”

Steel repeated the suggestion to Trueway, who said, “Yes, it would appear so.” Then he said, “If you could put Tallgrass on, Seagrass wants to talk to him.”

Once on, Tallgrass said, “I’m glad you’re okay. How did you manage that?”

“It happened during the hand-off. Night shift was going off duty and we were coming on. I guess they wanted to get as many people as possible. I was running about a minute late, or I would have been there. I was just signing in at the front desk.”

Tallgrass shivered at the close call, and said, “Thank goodness for your tardiness.”

Seagrass chuckled and said, “I always knew my bone-laziness would come in handy one day.” They shared a laugh, then he said, “I actually wanted to talk to you about this. I think we can figure out who did it.”

“Do you think so?” asked Tallgrass. “Well, it would have to be someone who was with the LLL before the lockdown.”

“Maybe,” said Seagrass. “But I’ve been thinking about it, and it could be someone that they got to later, and coerced somehow.”

“Right,” said Tallgrass, and they were off. In a short time they had three plausible scenarios for the investigators, one of which turned out to be correct. They found the bomber, who died in the attack, and they found the family members who had been held hostage to coerce him. They were dead, killed when they were no longer needed. The hunt for their killers was underway.

Supervisor Steel took the microphone after Tallgrass and Seagrass were finished, and had a conversation with Deputy Director Trueway. Once he was assured that there was no immediate danger to the Emissary or its mission, he was satisfied and ready to sign off and get back to routine. “Thank you Deputy Director,” he said. “Please give our condolences to the families, and our best wishes to the people recovering.”

“Yes, I certainly will, Supervisor Steel. And don’t worry about ground support. We’re here for you with communications, telemetry and plenty of calculating power. We’re working with a limited number of people right now, but we’re bringing others up to speed. You shouldn’t notice any serious changes.”

“Thank you,” said Steel. “Emissary out.”

“Mission Control out,” said Trueway.

Steel looked at his crew and said, “You heard him. We can carry on with the mission as before.”

“Good,” said Wayfarer, as Tallgrass nodded. He was thinking of his friend Seagrass, and how he’d almost lost him again.

It was Blunt who said what they were all thinking. “What if they take out this one, too? What if we lose Mission Control altogether?”

Steel said, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. There’s no sense in making problems for ourselves.”

“Yeah, but what if …” began Blunt.

“That wasn’t a suggestion, Mission Specialist Blunt,” said Steel.

“Yeah, but …” Blunt began again, then subsided, obviously unhappy.

Tallgrass said, “I wouldn’t worry about it, Blunt. I’ve been in that place, and I can tell you it’s secure. And with this, it’s going to be even more secure.”

“What about the people? What if somebody gets to one of them again?”

“They’ll be checking the people. Making sure their families are safe. Making sure nobody has a hold over any of them. Don’t worry. The only way they could do anything is if they flew an airplane into the building, or something.” He smiled around, and they chuckled. Even Blunt, if grudgingly.

“Okay,” said Steel, “so we carry on, business as usual, right?” When they acknowledged that, he said, “Besides, what are we going to do? Turn around and go back?”

That got a genuine laugh, even from Blunt, and people went back to their duties. In this part of the mission that was mostly a continuous round of systems checks. The ion drive was running constantly, and they checked its numbers periodically. Oxygen, water, batteries, fuel. All checked regularly and often, even after they checked out the first twenty, fifty or a hundred times. They all knew how important this mundane, boring work was, and none of them complained. Even Blunt was all business, most of the time.

They’d just eaten and Tallgrass was standing with Steel, talking. They had disposed of the food wrappers, and captured any bits of detritus they saw floating around. Then Wayfarer went back to the radio and Blunt went to his alcove for a nap.

Steel said, “I heard you talking to Blunt earlier, and I was wondering, why did you bring the glider?”

“Didn’t they tell you?” asked Tallgrass.

“No,” said Steel. “Of course they told me it was coming along, but not why.”

“I see,” said Tallgrass. “Okay. Well, it was my mother’s idea. You know it’s hers, right? You’ve heard the story?”

“Uh huh,” said Steel. “And read the books and seen the movies.”

“Right. I wouldn’t put too much credence in the movies.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t. It was a bit much to believe that a girl on her own like that could kill a day flier. And all those day runners.”

“Actually, that part is true,” said Tallgrass.

“Oh, really?” said Steel. “Hm. Now I really would like to meet your mother.”

“I can arrange that when we get back,” said Tallgrass. “I’d like her to meet you, too.” They nodded, then he said, “Anyway, she thought I should bring it, just in case.”

“What, as a lucky charm?”

Tallgrass laughed out loud. “My mother?” he said. “No. She thought that since it probably dropped down from space, and this thing we’re going to investigate is in space, there might be a connection. And since my mother is the smartest person I know, I didn’t have any objection.”

“Wasn’t that hard for her? I mean, that thing must be worth a lot of money.”

Tallgrass shook his head. “She doesn’t need to worry about money.” He chuckled. “The Professor wasn’t too happy about it, but she convinced him that it would be like another experiment. And she strictly forbade him to think about it getting lost.”

“Because that would mean thinking about something happening to you.”

“Exactly. She’s not superstitious, but she also doesn’t see any reason to tempt fate.”

“That makes sense to me,” said Steel. “You know, I think there’s a lot of your mother in you, Tallgrass.”

“Pah!” said Tallgrass. “I’m nothing like my mother. She’s a hundred times smarter than I am. And braver.”

“Because she trekked across the prairie on her own?”

“Yes! And took on the city. And won.”

“Whereas all you’ve done is get yourself onto a spacecraft and go out to investigate a mysterious, and possibly dangerous, object.”

Tallgrass stopped. Then he said, “That’s different. It’s nothing like what she did.”

“Maybe,” said Steel. “Whatever it is, I’ll bet she’s proud of you.”

Tallgrass ducked his head and nodded. “Yes,” he said. “She is.”