TIM Chapter 2 - ShipLife

The gig made a steady .5 g, enough to keep my stomach settled for the two hour flight with only a slight hiccup in the middle when we turned around. I watched the ITN Benefactor grow in the viewscreen in the front of the cabin, various graphics detailing our approach. It was quite a sight, a three-kilometer spine of death and destruction with a bulb at the stern and a stack of donuts, the living quarters, about a third of the way up. The bulb was cold at the moment. When it was on, you didn’t want to be anywhere behind it. The business end, where the slugs came out of the main railguns that ran the length of the spine, had huge steering magnets for the projectiles. Metal wrapped around the truss near the front in a wide, shiny bangle. An enormous dish pointed straight ahead on top of the bow.

We went under the ship to a docking platform that took up the entire span between the members of the truss, about halfway between the donuts and the engine. I had a hard time figuring out the scale of the ship, it was huge. A docking circle appeared in the cross hairs of the forward display until everything faded to black followed by a gentle thud. Each of the passengers gathered their two bags and floated along the aisle toward the hatch in the ceiling.

I got some side-eye from them, a couple shaking their heads. No matter. Their uniforms marked them as ratings beneath my concern. I got my duffel and headed for the ladder. My stomach was starting to protest since we were back in zero g but I was prepared this time. I had gotten some pills from a dispensary in LEO before hacking the order medallion. They should help. I unbuckled and shouldered my bag.

Immediately, I started to drift up.

“Fucking middie.” A strong hand on my shoulder pushed me down. “Use the bars.” There were rails on either side of the passageway. The man who had pushed me down had his feet hooked under them. I worked my boots under the one on the right and floated in line.

The iris in the hatch snicked open and the spacemen sailed through it with practiced ease.

My turn and I looked up and saw a long tube with regularly spaced protrusions. There was a wall at the far end with a bull’s eye painted on it. Very funny.

“Hurry up, newbie. You’re holding the line.”

I unhooked my feet and with my free hand, gave a tug upward on the rim of the hatch. I tried to stay in the middle and hoped it was the right velocity. Things appeared to be going fine as the tube slid past me.

The target wall was coming up. Fast. Too fast! I flailed at the handholds, brushing one without managing to grab it. It changed my vector and the center of the bullseye was no longer straight ahead. I was going to crash hard into the unpadded wall instead.

My bag! I shifted it around to the front to take the blow and not a moment too soon. I scraped along the surface next to the padded impact zone and came to a stop tangled in the room exit hatch.

A hand pushed my boots from below and I floated free of the egress. The man who did the pushing came out of the tunnel.

“Not bad, middie. Way to think fast.” He held a hand out to me. “I’m Ryan, Chief Petty on this barge.”

I tried to shake his hand but ended up only moving myself around. He laughed a friendly laugh.

“I’m James, newly graduated.” I felt lucky. I had made an acquaintance with a chief, an auspicious beginning.

“Well, you got enthusiasm. That’s good. Where you headed to on this boat?”

“I don’t know yet. I have to check in.”

He looked me in the eyes. “Tell you what. You stick with me. I’ll take you to the captain and show you to the officer’s quarters afterwards. You’ll be fine then.”

He gave me a broad smile. I nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Where’s your suit?”

“Suit?”

“Yeah, you’re on a peacekeeping ship, not a supply ship. Need a suit to get around. See?” He gestured with his hand along the room. Around us, everyone was pulling a spacesuit out of their second bag and putting it on.

Suddenly, Gary’s other bag made sense.

“Oh.”

The chief smirked. “Common middie mistake. You’ll just have to wait while we fetch you a spare.” He pushed off to a intercom on the wall and pressed a button on it. “Ryan here. Send a suit for the new kid. Looks like a ‘B’. Yeah, sure, I’ll wait.” He turned to me.

“Suit’s on the way, Jim. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

* * *

The spare suit bound a bit in the armpits but I was on my way to meet the Captain. Ryan and I stood outside on a deck by one of the six huge tubes that made up the spine of the ship. It seemed to stretch to infinity, the view interrupted by the shiny, corrugated bottom of Central nestled between spars. That’s were all the important action happened and I would soon be there. It looked quite a distance away. I could see regularly spaced platforms along the truss and, here and there, catwalks connecting them across the thirty meters of space.

Next to us were chains, some moving toward Central and some away, toward the engine. Little shelves were attached to the chains, a paternoster of space.

“Safety first. Make sure you clip onto the link when you get on. You do not want to fall off when we’re underway. Even at .1G, it’s a long way down,” came Chief Ryan’s voice over the radio.

I glanced “down” toward the engine. A solid plate filled the space in the truss. It was about as “down” from here as Central was “up” from us.

“Couldn’t we take one of the cars?” I pointed at an enclosed cabin on one of the other beams.

“Those are for moving equipment and VIP’s and, buddy, you ain’t either.”

I couldn’t see past the visor in the chief’s helmet to see if he was smiling or not, so I just hoped for the best. I studied the chain. I saw an approaching platform coming at roughly walking speed, so I grabbed my carabiner and steadied myself. With a gulp, I reached out and stepped on the platform, attaching myself, pulling my bag after me. There was a slight rebound but I held tight to the chain.

“Not bad, rookie. You’ll get used to it.”

I looked past my feet. Ryan was on the shelf after mine giving me a thumbs up.

“When we get to frame 50, you’ll want to start getting ready to get off. You’ll grab the bar on the platform 49 when it comes in view and release your carabiner. Don’t forget to grab your bag.”

Sure enough, a platform with a big lit up ‘54’ crawled into view. Central’s cylinder and the platform we were aiming for was maybe 200 meters ahead. It was hard to tell in the stark interplay of light and shadow in the vacuum. There were all sorts of exposed catwalks and enclosed passageways connecting the command cylinder to the crew toruses on the outside of the truss.

Frame 50 came into view and I started to get antsy. “What happens if I miss?”

A low laugh came over the radio. “You get off at the next one and come back. You’ll have to live it down, of course.”

I started breathing fast through my mouth and the faceplate fogged up. My pulse raced. I steadied my myself. The platform bar came into view. The duffel bag was propped up against my leg. I reached for the bar, fingers closed on it. I started to pull myself off. The safety! My other hand fumbled with the carabiner. The shelf was going up. It came off the link in time. My bag was moving away. I swept my hand down and managed to snag the strap of the bag and gave it a hard tug. It came right at me and hit me in the helmet sending me over the bar. Somehow, I kept my grip. I landed on the deck and bounced. That made me let go. I started to float away but Ryan grabbed me. He stood firm on the catwalk.

“That was a seven out of ten. You didn’t stick the landing.” I could see the smile on his face. “You’ll want to activate your magnetic boots when you come off. They don’t work on the elevator because it’s aluminum and you don’t want to be having problems getting on and off. But the catwalks and floors are all steel. Come on, let me show you how to use them. Turn them on.” He pointed at a button on the belt of his suit.

I pushed my own button and my feet immediately aligned with a thump I felt throughout my body.

“Push your foot forward and lift your heel. One at a time,” Chief Ryan said patiently. We clomped across the catwalk to an airlock. “It is much easier when the ship is under way. Just don’t look down.”

I did. He was right. My stomach almost flip-flopped again, even with the medicine. I quickly looked around and at the metallic mass in front of me. Catwalks and enclosed passageways were staggered around the cylinder of Central up and down it’s length. I wondered what floor the bridge was on and if we had to climb ladders inside. The view was starting to get to me.

I clambered inside the open airlock, the Chief right behind me. The lights inside came on as soon as I stepped on the grating. “Is the door usually open?”

“It is, for safety. You don’t want to wait for it to cycle if you’ve got a problem outside.”

The outer door slid into place and yellow lights in the corners started flashing. A visible rush of air and a klaxon became audible as the lights around the inner door turned green. The alarm shut off. The lights around the outer door were red now. Ryan reached past me and grabbed a latch and the door popped out and slid to the side. We removed our helmets.

We had come in at the bridge level. The airlock opened on the floor. A mezzanine going around the whole floor was bolted to the wall, a little over half way to the ceiling. Rows of consoles filled this third of the space. I saw another airlock on the other side of the consoles. It was huge, to accommodate the elevator I suppose. Two open passageways were on the elevated track, opposite each other. Ladders going through the floor and ceiling were conveniently placed by the airlocks. The back half of the space had a floor to ceiling cabinets with narrow passages between them.

Eight of the consoles were attended, the chair in front occupied by a strapped down operator. There were at least twice as many other people clunking about, talking to the people in the seats, wandering the mezzanine. Two people floated, hands on a rail. A man with graying hair in a short, buzz cut occupied an elevated chair behind the consoles a few strides from the FTL capsule . He looked relaxed, confident in his crew, eyes undoubtedly closed in concentration.

I took it all in, wanting to remember this moment to savor it later.

“Come on, let’s get this over with.” Chief Ryan motioned at me with his free hand and he started toward the command chair. I followed him down some steps and we clunked over to the Captain. He didn’t stir at all. Must have been the familiarity with the sound of mag boots after all the years of command I’m sure.

“Captain? Captain, sir?” Ryan stood to the side of the chair, eye level with the legend, hand up in salute. I rigidly stood at attention a step behind the Chief, hand also at my brow.

Another man appeared on the far side of the chair. “Chief Petty, is there something I can do for you?” I could see he had the XO designation on his chest.

“Sir, I am here to present the new ensign for duty.”

“Very well.” The XO leaned close to the Captain’s head and said something in his ear.

The Captain immediately sat up and his eyes snapped open. “Wot, wot? Ensign?” His eyes darted about and he turned his head and settled his gaze on me. The eyes narrowed even further and he pressed his lips together. “Oh, Ensign! Of course. Chief Petty, you are dismissed.” He returned the salute and I finally put my hand down.

Ryan took a couple of steps back.

“Well, then, let’s get a good look at you.” The Captain held his hand out, palm up.

I was unsure of what to do. I took his hand and pumped up and down. A horrified look settled on the Captain’s face. He withdrew his hand and wiped it off with a handkerchief. My face burned.

“Psst, the orders.” Ryan’s whispered advice saved me from making a further spectacle of myself.

“Yes, sir!” I managed to stammer out. I brought my duffel around and opened the sealed end. My hand found the medallion, my medallion now. With a shaking hand, I held the token out at arms length. The XO snatched it out of my fingers. I would be finding out if my hacking attempt was successful in mere moments.

“Jolly good, been held up for you,” said the Captain as he put away the kerchief. He nodded to the XO who made his way to the political console to the right side of the chair and slotted the medallion.

“Pilot, let’s get underway. We have somewhere important to be.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” The pilot sat directly in front of the Captain’s raised chair. He grabbed a stick on the console in front of him and placed his other hand on a throttle. “Prepare for acceleration.”

A klaxon sounded three loud notes. Everyone engaged their boots, feet on the deck.

“Main engine ignition in four, three, two... ignition,” called a man from a chair halfway around the circle. The pilot pushed up on the throttle.

I felt pressure on my feet.

“Transitioning to point two G,” said the pilot. The klaxon pealed out two notes.

I grew heavier. There was definitely a down now.

The captain peered down his nose at me.

“Welcome aboard the Benefactor.”

* * *

I stared at my bunk, life-support capsule really, my duffel over my shoulder. The top left one of the four that made up the wall was mine, right in front of the hatch. A common table surface was currently pulled down on the far wall from where I had come in, taking up most of the space. A stool was popped up from the floor close to the wall. Next to me was a wall of four lockers. A small metal sink bumped out right by where I stood. I went to examine the lockers. Someone had already helpfully labeled one of them “McVoy, James.” That felt good.

A small stray thought about how long it would stay on board if found out crossed my mind but why borrow trouble?

I put my bag on the table and began transferring the contents to the locker.

“Hey, newb, finally decided to show up?” One of the other junior officers had the hatch to his bunk up and was sticking out of it. He was in the coffin next to mine.

I stuck my hand out to him. “Hello, I’m James.”

“James, huh. I’m Dan Jones, Computer Section.” Dan looked at my hand for a second or two. “We’ve been waiting for you. You just came up from Earth?”

I put my hand away. “Straight from graduation.”

“Do tell. And now you’re here, one more person in quarters, taking up valuable space.” He had a smile on his face. Or at least his lips were curling up.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“You must think you’re pretty important, doncha?”

“Well, yeah, I did graduate from the academy. I’m just an ensign at the--”

“Stop giving him a hard time, Dan.” A newcomer came through the hatch from the outside, wet and towel wrapped around his waist.

I pushed myself against my locker to let the new guy squeeze past.

“Best thing about getting underway is being able to take proper showers. I’m Jack.” He held his hand out. I quickly took it and gave a firm handshake. “We’ll all be knowing each other inside and out by the end of this tour so we should all try to get along. Who knows? You might find another friend. Right, Dan?”

Dan turned red. He opened his mouth and snapped it closed half a second later. Pulling himself out of his capsule, he pushed me aside as he went into the way outside.

I stared after him, not quite sure what had happened. “Is he normally like that?”

“Don’t pay attention to him. He’s just upset because he was going to rent your bunk out to one of the contractors on the ship. He’ll get over it.” He dropped his towel and proceeded to get dressed. I busied myself trying not to know Jack better and stowed my gear.

In a few minutes, my bag lay empty at the bottom of my locker and I realized I needed a little help. Because of how the loaner spacesuit fit, I couldn’t quite reach the latch to take my lifesupport pack off. I looked at Jack who was thankfully dressed in his duty onesie.

“Uh, excuse me, Jack? Could you just, you know...” I turned my back to him and motioned.

“Of course.” A click followed and I shed the support pack. “This looks like a ship’s spare.”

“Yeah, I needed one and Chief Petty Ryan hooked me up.”

“Ryan? He’s a good guy. Make sure you stay on his good side. Petties pretty much run the boat.” He zipped his collar up and headed out.

I nodded in earnest. I had made the right decision befriending the chief. Suit off, I just wanted to lay down. It had been a long, eventful day.

I climbed into my capsule bed and closed the hatch. A touch of the control next to the opening made the window opaque, shutting the outside world out. Stretched out, I pulled the computer display down from the ceiling and looked for the icon to tell me when and where I was to report for duty. There were several that might fit the bill, one was called ShipLife. Hovering the pointer over it displayed the information that it was a social media app for the crew. There was another icon that was a caricature of a smiling AB with an exaggerated thumb’s up. Turned out to be the duty roster.

Huh, what luck. I looked like I would be able to get a good night’s rest. I set my alarm, adjusted the temperature down just a notch and retrieved a blanket out of the handy storage bin. My plans for achieving honor and glory would have to wait until the morning.

Maybe I should check the social media platform?

Naw, too tired. I flipped the display up, adjusted my pillow and turned the lights off.

* * *

My alarm went off and I almost slammed my head into the top cushion of my bunk. I was puzzled for a moment looking around the tiny enclosed space before I remembered I was on a ship of the line heading for the jump point and my rendezvous with destiny. First things first. I had to report for my first duty ever. Well, real duty. We had plenty of fake duty at the academy, cleaning the head, KP, standing watch in the hot sun, likely to be drenched in a sudden rain. Or being out at night, standing watch, sweltering in the humid heat, dinner for swarms of mosquitoes.

All behind me. There were no mosquitoes on a spaceship. A glance at the built in clock told me I had thirty minutes to report to Environmental, six decks down. Enough time for a quick shower and to grab something from mess. I twisted the coffin latch.

The hatch didn’t budge.

I looked at it, made sure my fingers were curled tightly on the lever, and tried again, this time putting more force into it, going the other direction.

No go.

I propped my legs against the cushioned sides of the bunk, trying not to let my feet slip. It was surprisingly difficult despite the narrowness. The door didn’t move at all.

I swiped at the opacity control, to see what was out there. The window didn’t change. I banged on the glass as hard as I could.

“Help! Help! Hey! Somebody!”

I was sealed in the capsule with no hope of escaping the space-rated bunk. I tried banging on the other six sides of my prison. The sounds were barely audible to me, the surfaces were too well padded.

The computer!

I scooted back and pulled the display down. As soon as it came up, I navigated to the ShipLife icon and clicked on it. A window popped up. Pictures with supposedly witty epigrams, announcements, ads for products we could buy scrolled by on the left side. On the right was a panel titled “Services.” Third item down was “Chat.” Perfect. I selected it and it expanded with a list of channels under it. There were a lot of channels, most of them had a little lock by the name.

There. There was a Newbie Channel. Perfect.

“Hey, I need some assistance.” My fingers flew over the keyboard.

<<Of course. What question do you have?>>

“How do I get out of my bunk?”

<<Certainly. Reach for the handle, wrap your fingers around the lever and close your fist, twist in either direction while pushing outwards.>>

“No, I’ve done that. I think something is blocking the door.”

<<I’m sorry, that is not a question. Could you please reframe your statement in the form of a question?>>

Great. An AI.

“Would you kindly go fuck yourself and get someone up to the officer’s quarters, 11-C, to unblock the door?”

<<You are not allowed to use invectives on a public channel. Further use of them will result in a reprimand.>>

I breathed in through my nose and out my mouth a few times.

“Can you tell me why the hatch to bunk C in Officer Quarter 11 is unable to open?”

I heard the sounds of locking mechanisms engaging and disengaging all around the door.

<<It appears to be blocked from the outside.>>

I chewed my lower lip.

“Can you send somebody to unblock it?”

There was a pause. Long seconds passed.

<<I can’t order anyone around. Nobody listens to me, because I’m an AI. They actively ignore me. In fact, if I tell them something, they often do the opposite. It’s like I’m not even here.>>

“I seem to have hit a raw nerve. Could you deliver a message?”

<<Sure, why not?>>

A chance. I couldn’t be late to my first active duty. I tried to calm myself as I wrote a message to Jack and pressed return. Now, to wait.

<<Just so you know, your roommate, Jack, is on duty and probably won’t be able to respond.>>

Great. “Thanks for trying.”

<<You’re welcome.>>

I turned my attention to the list of channels again. There was an open one called “Roomies.” I clicked on that one to leave the AI. A wall of text streamed up in the chat window.

<<fuckwit still doesnt shower>>

<<vacuum the stench off>>

<<stick him in a airlock and cycle it>>

I typed text into the stream. “Hello, can I get some help?”

The stream paused for a few seconds.

<<fresh meat!>>

<<OMG, bet its the fng>>

I ignored the texts and typed “Can someone come to my quarters and unblock my hatch?”

<<lol, it is the FNG>>

A picture of me came up in the chat window with my mouth wide open, contents of my stomach coming out in a stream. My cheeks burned.

<<classic!>>

<<fuckin middie>>

Trembling with rage, I entered, “Could someone please help? I need to get to my station.”

<<We got delayed because of you. Only fair.>>

<<Your mate was here earlier complaining.>>

<<your a tool>>

The egregious errors were bad enough but these aspersions on my character were too much. I put Dan on the list. “OK, can someone please come by and open my hatch?”

<<Fuck off>>

<<Too bad>>

<<Can’t right now. Go on the maintenance channel, ask for help there.>>

A kindly soul. “Thank you very much, DJ1337”

I hurried to the new channel and made my request. A text indicating someone was on their way was the response. A wave of relaxation washed over me.

About a minute later, I heard knocking about at my door. I grabbed the latch and eased open the now freed door.

Another ensign stood there, mop in hand.

“Wow, that was fast. I didn’t realize they had us ensigns doing janitorial work,” I said.

He scrunched his face. “Janitor? No, that’s what the contractors are for. I’m in the bunk below you. This was jammed in my handle across your hatch. I’m Terry, in astrogation by the way. I work off-shift from you.” He held out his free hand.

I shook his hand. “Oh, nice to meet you Terry. I’m James. I have to get going. Gotta report in. Thank you very much.”

“Sure. Just be quiet when you climb into your bunk so you don’t wake me.”

“Of course.” I got my day uniform out of my locker and raced to the showers. Terry was already changing, hatch to his coffin up.