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“I don’t know.” The Fleetman’s gaze skewed away to stare at the ship, at the men’s dorms in particular, burning so hard they could actually hear it, even over the wind. “The military mods survived the crash more or less, but the asteroids…or whatever they were…” He trailed off, then shook his head and looked at her. “Most of the Sleepers I saw in my unit looked like Swiss cheese, ma’am. So did the people inside them. People I knew.”
“I…I’m sorry.” The smallness of that sympathy could not stand against the present horror. Amber groped for something better, then gave up and simply said, “So we’re it?”
“There could be others. I just don’t know. The mods sealed themselves as part of the emergency lockdown. None of the communication stations appear to be working. I have no idea what the situation is…underground. For all I know, parts of the ship could still be intact, but it’s…not likely. I’ve got some men trying to organize a search and rescue operation, but it’s been…slow starting.”
Amber nodded. “How long have we been flying blind?”
“I don’t know how long, but we can’t have been entirely blind or we wouldn’t be breathing this atmosphere, we’d be melting in it.” He broke off there, ran one hand over the side of his smooth head and started again, more calmly. “The ship has several emergency failsafes in place. Locating an Earth-class planet and landing was one of them, but…I don’t even know off the top of my head how many others had to fail for that one to engage. In the event of any major incident, the ship was supposed to take us home.”
“Do you know where we are?”
“No, although the guidance system itself has to be functioning or we never would have made it here. This planet is very Earth-like. And before you ask me which world it is, understand that there are over seven thousand Earth-like planets in the Fleet’s database, and we’ve mapped less than one percent of one percent of this galaxy. Without a working guidance system’s interface, we have no way of discovering where we are.”
“Can anyone repair it?”
He spread his hands, his expression pained. “With what?”
“All right. I have to ask. Is there an emergency beacon or any way to send a transmission of any kind back home?”
The Fleetman nodded back in the direction of the fractured ship while still holding her eyes. “At the very best, we have lost thirty percent of the ship’s structure, including the entire command center, and the primary and tertiary lifeboat launching bays. That number could be as high as seventy-five percent if none of the structure below the surface has survived impact. Even if the halls have collapsed, the skeleton could be intact. Right now, I have to hope that it is, because only if we can tu
“You said the primary and the tertiary bays were out. What about the secondary lifeboats?” Amber asked. “Is there a beacon or anything with them?”
“There is. And that—” The Fleetman pointed up at the extreme tip of the blazing men’s dorm. “—is the bay where it is located. It looks like it might be intact and if it’s locked down like the rest of the compartment doors, it might not even be burning. Getting to it is going to be a process, but I have to tell you, ma’am—”
“Amber. Amber Bierce.”
“Amber.” His brows furrowed slightly. “Jonah Lamarc, Lieutenant Junior-Grade.”
That was a lot further down the authority ladder than she’d been hoping to hear, and by the look on his face, he knew it. But he struck her as a thoughtful man and definitely not prone to panic. She put out her hand impulsively.
He shook it while Crewman Scott watched.
“It’s going to be a process?” Amber prompted.
“But I believe it can be done, once the fire burns itself out,” he finished, and then gave his head a grim shake. “Miss Bierce, I don’t think I’d say this to anyone else out there, but you seem to have a level head and I want to be honest with you.”
“Go on then. I’m braced.”
“I’m not sure we can launch a beacon from this location—planet-side, I mean—but assuming that it is possible, we first have to get guidance repaired, online and talking to the beacon so that it can orient itself to Earth. After that…” He paused again, looking down at Nicci, who had drawn up her knees and was now resting her head atop them and lightly rocking. He looked back at Amber, his expression drawn and greyed with strain. “I haven’t talked around much yet, but I served my second shift before the incident, so I know it’s been at least two years, plus however long the ship was flying blind to get to this planet after it was hit. But even if we magically crashed the instant after I went back in Sleep, we’d still have been Tu
Nicci moaned and began to sob again.
“Okay,” said Amber. “Now what’s the real problem?”
He shared her lackluster smile. “Believe it or not, there is a real problem.”
“Oh for God’s sake. Okay. What is it?”’
“The beacon doesn’t have tu
“So there’s no point in looking for it,” said Amber. After a moment, she hammered the reality home with a nod. “All right. So we’re here.”
He frowned at Nicci, then at her. “I didn’t say that and I wouldn’t, if I were you. For a while, that hope of rescue is all that is going to keep some of these people alive.”
“So what are you pla
“We haven’t decided,” said Scott.
Lamarc glanced at him, still frowning. “We’re discussing our options.”
“What have you come up with so far?”
“I believe our best hope of survival lies with the ship,” said Lamarc, and did not react when Scott heaved a short, hard sigh at him. “It was built to be a ready-made city. It provides shelter and security against the elements here and, most importantly, familiarity. We have food, moisture evaporators and purifiers, medical facilities, and general supplies to last easily a hundred years. Comfort is going to be our most precious resource for the immediate future and it should not be underestimated.”
Amber looked at the ship and said nothing. She could hear the logic in his words, but she could also see the smoke fu
At last, just to demonstrate that she wasn’t a complete bitch and he shouldn’t feel the need to be a complete bastard, Amber looked at Scott. “What do you think?”
Even if she was a civilian and therefore an u
She had a feeling he had a name in mind. “Okay. Let’s pretend it’s you. What’s your plan, Commander?”
Scott threw Lamarc a fierce smile, the sort that could make even a handsome man like him look schoolyard-small and mean. “Like he said, we have enough supplies to last us for a long time, so nothing is more important than knowing what we’re up against. We need to organize units to scout out the terrain and establish a perimeter. We need to organize defenses. We need to arm ourselves.”
“And I told you, the munitions bay is gone,” said Lamarc flatly. He turned to Amber. “What about you? Do you have any suggestions?”
She scowled, her eye going back to the ship and the smoke pouring out of it. “Lieutenant Lamarc—”
“Jonah,” he said quietly.
Scott frowned.
“Jonah, that ship is on fire. And there aren’t enough words in the world to fully express just how bad a feeling I have about hanging around a burning ship where the extent of the damage is completely unknown.”
He nodded once, acknowledging without comment, waiting.
“I agree with what you said about shelter and security, but I’m sorry, until those fires are out, I think we’d ought to make camp somewhere else.”
“Which means we need to start scouting now,” said Scott. “Before we lose the light.”
“I haven’t made a count yet,” said Jonah. “But at a guess, I believe I’m looking at close to two thousand badly frightened people, some of them with missing loved ones, and all of them in shock. Present company most definitely included.” He rubbed at the side of his head again. “Moving that many people overland on an alien world away from the ship they rode in on would be disastrous to morale, not to mention devastating to the terrain itself. If it rains, which is damned likely looking at that sky, two thousand pairs of feet are only going to need a few seconds to turn this ground into quick-mud. Also, we might be able to carry enough food with us for a few days, but not water. We have evaporators and we have purifiers, but we have no actual water. And, I’m sorry, but where are we going to go to the bathroom? I can see you think that’s a pretty trivial point, but I guarantee it won’t seem as trivial when two thousand people have dysentery.”
“We’re going to have all those problems no matter where we are.”
“Yes, eventually. But here at the ship, we can postpone them. Amber, if we don’t give those people some kind of familiar routine, something safe to cling to, we’re going to lose them. People this lost, this desperate…don’t need a lot of help to die.”
“Okay,” interrupted Scott as Amber gazed out at the sea of survivors, “I think these are all valid points, but you’ve brought us right back to the issue of who’s in charge. You can’t develop a routine without someone giving orders.”