The Oceans of Emptiness (The Oceans of Tribulation Book 2) Page 5
“You made it!” Tuft said.
Patricia smirked. “I said I would come.” She then turned to her students. “Who here knows what they’re about to do?”
Teral immediately looked away, staring at the floor as though there were something interesting sitting there. Cubina squinted, her eyes darting back and forth. Patricia knew that was her thinking face. She wanted to answer, but appeared to be having trouble finding the right answer.
“He’s going to leave the ship,” she finally said.
Lance scoffed. “No shit.”
Patricia sighed. “There’s no need to put her down. Would you like to share what he’s about to do and its significance?”
Lance tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “The imbecile is being sent out to clean the outer hull of the ship.”
“There’s no need for names. One more instance of being disrespectful in any manner and your essay will be doubled in length. Now, why are we cleaning the ship?”
“It’s not so much cleaning, as relieving the hull of any unnecessary weight. Even the smallest amount of debris or condensation could create a drag during the jump and the side effects of such a thing have not yet been tested.”
“See, that essay will be easy to write and you definitely don’t need to put others down.” Patricia turned to Troubalene. “Are we about ready?”
She nodded. “He can begin. As Tuft leaves the airlock, we will be able to monitor his movements and progress on the screens along this wall. His vitals are monitored by the suit and sent back here as well. If anything from his temperature to his heart rate climbs too quickly, a warning will be sounded and we will immediately bring him back inside.”
The tech opened the airlock door with a key card and Tuft entered the smaller room. Then the door was sealed shut, locking Tuft away from the group.
Patricia turned to the wall. Tuft had just made it outside and was floating toward the first section under his,charge. What Troubalene had neglected to say was that Tuft was not alone out there. He was surrounded by at least ten robots, all of which were meticulously cleaning sections of the ship.
Patricia stood beside Troubalene and spoke softly, trying to keep her students from hearing anything she said. “Why is Tuft out there at all if the robots are?”
“We require supervision over all mechanical beings on this ship at all times.”
Patricia let out a breathy laugh. “Are you afraid they’ll rise up and kill us all?”
“The possibility has been approached in preparation meetings for this mission.”
She couldn’t believe that Troubalene was serious. “So is he really doing any work?”
“Your friend always insists on doing the work himself. He’s an odd one.”
Patricia smiled. Her eyes fixated on the image of Tuft working just as hard as the robots beside him. “He is an odd ball. But a very honest, loyal, hardworking oddball. A few of the passengers on this ship could learn from him.”
Troubalene glanced at her tablet.
“Do you have some place else you need to be?”
“No. I was double checking the start time. We have a schedule to maintain.”
“And how long is this supposed to take?”
“Roughly, we should be done here in four hours.”
“I don’t think we’ll stay that long.”
“Why? It’s not like you have anything useful planned for the rest of the day,” Lance said.
“That’s it. Your essay has officially doubled in length.”
Troubalene lowered her voice to a whisper. “Will he actually fulfill the assignment?”
Patricia shook her head. “I doubt it. I’m not sure why I even require him to come to class at this point. I should just make my recommendation and let him move on.”
“You need to find a way to make him understand your authority. If he cannot respect authority then he will be unable to work in any system of this ship.”
Patricia gave a curt nod. She looked at the wall again. Tuft was typing something into the chest of one of the robots. “What’s he doing?”
“Instructing it about the new section it’s supposed to cover.”
“Did you train him to do that? I didn’t think he knew anything about technology.”
“He is your friend, right?” Troubalene asked.
Patricia nodded. “I suppose I don’t give him enough credit.” An alarm on the wall began to sound. It was soft beeping. “What’s that?”
The tech was busy typing in a few commands. “His temperature is rising slightly. I don’t think it’s his suit.”
“What do you mean? He’s running a fever?”
The tech shrugged. “We’re going to bring him in.”
“Tuft, we’re going to bring you in. Stand by,” Troubalene said. She had approached the control panel and tapped the communication button on the screen. She then turned around. “Perhaps you and your students should leave. We’ve got this under control.”
Patricia looked passed her at the screen. Tuft didn’t appear to be awake any longer. He was kind of limply floating. “Is he okay?”
Troubalene turned back around.
Patricia turned to her students. “The three of you, please go wait in the hall. You are to stay right outside this door. Do not move from that spot.”
Cubina and Teral left willingly, but Lance hung back a moment. His eyes were locked on the airlock door.
Patricia just waited. Then he left without a single word. She turned to Troubalene the moment they were gone. “I don’t think he’s okay. How much longer?”
The camera showed him entering the airlock room. The tech moved forward and opened the airlock door the moment it was safe. Tuft was sprawled out on the floor, not moving. Patricia tried to go to his side, but Troubalene grabbed her arm and held her back.
“You need to go,” Troubalene said.
“What? He’s my friend.”
“And you have duties. He’s in good hands.”
Patricia opened her mouth, but there were no arguments that were going to change Troubalene’s mind. She was going to have to leave. Gritting her teeth, Patricia exited the room and led her students back to the classroom.
The day seemed to drag on after that. She wanted to let her students leave early, but she knew they would be checking up on her. The captain probably had someone in the hall watching her classroom.
Finally, after hours of debates and useless lessons, the time came for them to be released. She left ahead of the students and headed straight to Tuft’s room. He wasn’t there. Patricia sighed heavily. It was the middle of the afternoon. She was wandering around the ship, alone, trying to find something to get her mind off of whether he was okay or not. The only thing that came to mind was food. So she went up to the cafeteria.
It was almost completely empty. There were just a few people having conversations while they ate a light snack. Then, across the room, she made out the captain eating a late lunch. He was digging into the food on his tray as though it actually tasted good.
Patricia sat down in front of him. “Good afternoon, sir.”
“What can I do for you Mrs. Meyer?”
“I would like to put in a formal request for a detailed list of every assignment aboard this ship for reference when assigning duties to graduating students.”
“I will have my staff provide a list of the assignments that you are able to allocate.”
Patricia clenched her teeth. “I know what that means. It won’t have every position on that list. Will it?”
“You will be given a list of the ones you need to know about.” He took another large bite, eyeing his food and not her.
“Sir, I am being as respectful as possible. It is my duty to suggest assignments for every student that enters my classroom. I cannot do that job if I am not aware of every assignment on this ship.”
The captain grunted. “You just want to know what’s on level seven.”
She bit her tongue, holding back
the thousand insults that came to mind.
“I will not sully you with that classified information. I am the only one who needs to know of those assignments as I am the only one who can allocate them. Therefore, your meeting here was a complete waste of time. Now if you don’t mind, I have a ship to run.” He rose from the table with his licked - clean tray and sauntered out of the cafeteria.
Patricia stood up as well. She started to walk toward the door to go after him when John came running in.
“There you are,” he said with a slight breathiness as though he’d been running for a while.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Is everything okay?”
“I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Well, you found me. So what is it?”
“Tuft’s in Xana’s care.”
Patricia grabbed John’s hand and dragged him from the cafeteria to the elevator. “Is he okay?” she asked as they made their way up to the second level and the medical bay.
“I don’t know. She told me about fifteen minutes ago and I went to find you. I don’t even know what happened.”
Patricia wanted to tell him, but she thought it better to wait until they spoke to Xana first. It seemed that she only had half the story.
The first to open the door, Patricia ran into the medical bay. The room was of average size with cloaking curtains and only a total of ten cots. She really had expected more, given the amount of people on board. The only curtain currently cloaked was at the far end of the room. Xana was standing outside.
“Good. You heard,” Xana said. “He’s doing better.”
“What’s better?” Patricia asked. She tried to push past Xana.
However, Xana grabbed Patricia’s arm. “You don’t want to go in there.”
“He’s my friend.”
“He’s our friend,” Xana said with a stern look.
Patricia took a step back. “You’re right. I’m sorry. What’s better though?”
“He’s sick. My guess is he’s not the first, though. He caught it on the ship.”
“Are you sure?” John asked.
“Definitely. My preliminary tests show the incubation period of this disease is four days. We’ve been up here longer than that. What I also believe is that he just happened to get it worse. Whoever had it is probably over the disease already.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“Chilotile disease, named for the first genetically engineered animal to be introduced on Mars. I’ve seen cases before. It can be more harmful to some than others. It only kills one tenth of a percent of patients, but that was on Mars. Goodness knows what it could do out here. The effects of space travel on humans for an extended period of time are not well documented.”
“Not yet,” John said. “Will he recover?”
“I think he will. I’ve administered medication.”
Patricia looked at the curtain with apprehension. “How contagious is this thing?”
“Why do you ask?”
Patricia looked at Xana. “I may have been there when he collapsed.” She felt John’s hand grab hold of her shoulder. “He was cleaning the outside of the ship. His temperature rose and then he collapsed.” Patricia shook her head. “He was complaining about not feeling well a few days ago.”
“He should have come to see me then. Then he probably wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”
“I told him to.”
“So, how contagious is this disease?” John asked.
“Contagious enough. If either of you develop unusual symptoms, come see me immediately. If you see anyone not feeling well, send them my way. We need to control this as best we can.”
“You’re not going to tell anyone?”
Xana frowned. “I have inquired the same thing of the captain. However, he believes that would do more harm than good.”
“It could very well create mass panic,” John said.
“The captain would agree. I do not.”
Patricia smiled. “We’ll do what we can.”
“Thank you.”
4
Lance’s Secret
Patricia spent the next few days in constant dread. She treated every person as though they were sick. If a person cleared their throat or choked on their food, she was the first to flinch. Even when she was in the classroom, Patricia found it difficult to concentrate on the lessons when she was analyzing every little thing about her students. Despite her best efforts to find anything wrong, they appeared fine.
“Could we please continue with this sham of a lesson? I have more pressing matters I could be attending to,” Lance said.
Patricia rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you do. Like actually doing the assignments you owe me.”
Lance didn’t answer.
“For the rest of the day I would like you to work on your mathematics. Work ahead or practice old problems.”
“Another brilliant lesson plan from the best teacher in all this ship.”
Patricia stepped down from the stage and walked around behind Lance. “Tell me, what would you teach in this class?”
“Things that are actually useful for the possible terrains that we will find.”
Patricia grabbed Lance by the collar and dragged him out of his seat. She then took the seat. “Go on then. Teach.”
He stood there a moment. His eyes fixated on her, unblinking. “Very well.” He shrugged and turned toward the stage. Lance climbed up. “Can anyone tell me anything about the planet we’re headed toward?”
“What could we possibly need to know?” Patricia asked. “It’ll be solid ground. I’ll be lucky if I’m still alive.”
Lance looked annoyed. Good. “It is important to determine where best to develop our settlement. What are the temperatures of the surface? What will the atmosphere be like? Does anyone know how these will be determined?”
Cubina’s hand shot into the air.
Patricia, however, leaned back in her chair and said, “We’ll figure it out when we get there.”
“Maybe someone with a brain should speak,” Lance said. “I guess you’ll do Cubina.”
“Capena sent a probe ahead of the mission. It should arrive at the destination in half the time and determine exact specs of the planet so that we can develop the right technologies.”
“And can anyone tell me the flaws of Capena’s plan?”
“Why are you here?” Patricia asked. “Clearly everything about this place seems like a mistake to you. So why are you here?”
Lance looked through the tops of his eyes at Patricia. “I know what you’re doing. It won’t work. Capena has sent volunteers on this suicide mission toward an unknown planet with just enough resources. We are all going to die.” Lance smiled. “Embrace the fate. I give it a decade.”
“How would you have changed this venture so that it wasn’t a suicide mission?”
“Only the brightest would have gone. Those who have IQs over one-forty would be the only ones permitted to enter this ship.”
“Do you think that’s wise?” Patricia asked. “What about labor, the hard tasks when you actually arrive at the planet?”
“Robots.” Patricia could hear the animosity behind the single word. “I would have also sent the probe and received the results before the mission even embarked. This is blind and stupid.”
That one she could see. She stood up. “Take your seat.” Patricia swapped places with Lance. “He has brought up some interesting points. Cubina, would you care to provide some more insight into the matter?”
“Maybe you can save us all the time and tell us what you think,” Lance said.
“It’s important for each of you to develop your critical thinking skills. Society cannot develop if we stop asking why.”
“They have no thoughts on the matter. Can we please move on?”
“Do you have some place you need to be?”
Lance sat back and rolled his eyes.
Patricia took a deep breath. In a calm voice she said, �
�Maybe you should go.”
“What?”
“You obviously don’t want to be in here and feel that I have nothing constructive to teach you so perhaps it would be better if you left.”
Lance didn’t move. “I can’t.”
“I’m sorry. Why can’t you?”
“Because the security detail tracks the minors on board. If I stop coming to class they will obviously think I’m up to something and cryogenically freeze me until we arrive at the forsaken planet.”
Patricia smiled. She had found a trigger point. The room was silent. Cubina was clicking her desk feverishly as though searching for something. Teral stared at the ceiling. His mouth was moving but nothing came out.
“I suppose then we will remain a class of three, for now,” Patricia said.
The rest of the day went smoothly, as smoothly as any day had gone anyway. Lance sat quietly. Patricia guessed he had fallen asleep. That was well worth the silence that ensued the remainder of the class period.
When the time came for them to be released, Lance was the last to stand up from his desk. He sluggishly sauntered out of the room, his hand firmly on the wall.
Patricia sighed once they were all gone. Then she too left for the cafeteria. John had promised to meet her for dinner, but he wasn’t there. She plopped down at the nearest table and laid her head upon it.
“Rough day?”
Patricia turned to see Troubalene take a seat beside her with a full plate of foods. “Another battle of wits with the king of arrogance.”
“Did you at least win this one?”
“Kind of did. I tried to kick him out and he refused to leave. Something about security tracking all minors on board. Is that true?”
“Oh great celestial bodies, yes. Every minor on board has not only been chipped, but the cameras on the ship react to those chips.”
“Chipped? As in microchipped?”
“What other chip would I be talking about?”
Patricia sat up. “I didn’t know you did that.”
“There was a committee that voted on the matter. We also voted on the same procedure for all people aboard the ship, but for the most part, we felt that was over stepping the bounds of what is humanly acceptable.”