Henrietta stirred.
“Arietta,” he called out. “It’s me, Peter.”
She turned a bleary eye toward him. “Peter?” she mumbled. He could see she was having difficulty focusing.
She’s probably as confused as I was, Peter thought. He limped to her station and held out his hand. “Here, let me help you up.”
Henrietta grasped his hand and tried to rise, but was too weak. Retching, she quickly gave up and curled into a ball. “Oh, God; what happened?” Her cheeks puffed up and Peter saw her stomach spasm.
“Are you going to hurl?”
Henrietta nodded violently and threw her hands over her mouth.
Peter found a container and forced it into her trembling hands. She bent over and threw up. The good thing was there was not much in her stomach to empty.
Stiles moved next, but Peter left him to his own devices. Go ahead and get yourself out of this, Peter thought. I did.
“Oh, God,” Stiles cried. “What the—”
Peter heard a crash as Stiles fell back into his chair. He forgot to unplug his suit. Peter smiled evilly at Stiles’ discomfort.
“Ohhh, where am I?” Jimmy asked.
Well, at least everyone doesn’t say “Oh God,” Peter thought. “You’re on the ship,” Peter answered. “We just came out of jump.” He walked to Jimmy and disconnected his plug for him. “Stay in your chair,” Peter suggested. “I’ll get you a bulb of water.”
Peter reached the dispenser and retrieved three water bulbs, gathering them in his arms. He went to the young boy first, but Henrietta interrupted him.
“Quit spoiling him, would ya?” Henrietta looked at him perturbed. “How else will he grow up?”
“Who?”
“Jimmy,” she replied tartly.
“Arietta, remember: I helped you come out of jump.” He looked at the messy bowl still resting in her lap.
She looked almost human again. And kind of cute, just sitting there, he thought.
“Yeah, yeah … thanks for the help,” she said, taking the water from him.
He was not quite sure if she was being sarcastic.
“Yeah, and no thanks for the help you gave me.”
As for sarcastic, it did not take much to tell Stiles was. “I thought you were a big boy,” Peter responded, handing him his water bulb.
Stiles glared at him while he squeezed off a mouthful. Stiles reached up with his other hand and tore the connector from his suit in anger, still staring at Peter.
Jimmy eagerly took the water bulb Peter offered and gulped half of it down.
“Easy, Jimmy,” Peter warned. “Your stomach forgot how to take in food.”
In response, Jimmy threw up the water he just swallowed. It landed with a splash over the deck, barely missing Stiles’ feet.
“You’re cleaning that up, Null-Grav,” Stiles warned. Stiles rubbed his forehead, trying to snap out of his haze. He turned away from the messy scene before he got sick.
“It’s just water,” Jimmy replied, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “So, where are we?”
Peter shook his head, “Don’t know, but a long way away from where we started from, I think.”
“You idiot,” Stiles taunted him. “We’re at Alpha Bootis. You don’t listen too good, do you?”
“I do too,” Peter answered. “We were heading there until you messed with the settings.”
“Go jump off the ship.”
Peter felt in his gut they were not in the colonies anymore, but could not say anything about his grandfather, or crazy talk about Spirit Guides telling him they were lost. They never would believe him. In fact, Peter could not believe it himself. Calming down, he continued. “Well, I still don’t think we’re at Alpha Bootis. Where else, though … I have no idea.”
Henrietta looked around. “Did you try to contact the ship?”
Peter nodded. “Yeah, I did, but nothing so far. Nothing on external sensors, either. I wonder if he goes into stasis.”
“Who?” Henrietta asked.
“The ship,” Peter replied. He always was intrigued about the ship and how close it was to life. He once had a long conversation with Ali about what they were doing at the base, but came up with more questions than answers. “Being he’s partly alive, what happens to him in a jump?”
“Beats me,” Henrietta answered, looking bored. She looked around the bridge. “Speaking of which, where’s Ali?”
“You remember, Arietta, he was down in engineering when we jumped.”
“Oh, yeah.” She suddenly looked more alert. “Have you checked up on him?”
Peter thought for a moment. He was still fuzzy and he blamed himself for not thinking of it first. “Darn it, no.” He opened an internal channel to engineering, “Ali, are you there?”
There was no response. “Ali, come in. Ali, answer me.”
“Did he jack in?” Henrietta asked.
“He should have,” Peter replied. Of anyone on the ship, Ali was the one most schooled about how a ship operated. “He knows better than that. If anyone did, he did.”
Stiles smirked, “Knowing that absent-minded turd-face, I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“He had to,” Peter said. I think …. “We’d better get down to engineering and see.”
* * *
The kids rushed into the lift and went down four decks to the engineering level. They weaved through the maze of computing and headed back to the drive units section. Jimmy slowly followed up the rear, getting momentarily lost in the large, cluttered room.
“Ali,” Henrietta called out. “Are you here?” She waited for Peter to catch up and asked, “Where would he be?”
“I don’t know,” he said looking around. “This place is as confusing as computing was. I’ve no idea what any of this stuff does. Maybe we should spread out and look.”
“Over here,” Stiles called. He was behind a large membranous partition. Peter could see his shadow moving through the semi-transparent wall.
Peter looked for a clear path. “How’d you get over there?” Peter asked.
“Walk all the way to the back and turn left.”
“Aft,” Jimmy shouted.
“Whatever,” Stiles retorted.
Peter led Henrietta and Jimmy around the obstacles, taking Henrietta by the hand. Ali was sitting still in his chair; his arms were hanging limply to the side. Peter could detect no breathing or other signs of life.
“Is he …?” Henrietta could not voice her fears.
Peter looked closer and saw the CT connector firmly in-place on his chest. “He did jack in. At least that’s something.”
“But he’s not breathing,” Stiles observed. “Should I pull the plug out?”
Peter stared at his motionless friend, locked in indecision. Here he was again, forced into another life-affecting decision. “I don’t know. Arietta, what do you think?”
“No. If the system’s working, it’s keeping him alive. If it’s not working, it doesn’t much matter now.”
“Good point,” Peter admitted. He checked the CT-chair. All the indicators were still green, so that was a good sign. “How do you stop stasis on purpose?”
“He knows,” Stiles replied, motioning his head toward Ali.
“That does us a lot of good,” Henrietta replied.
Stiles purposely put on a “dumb” look. “So, you see any manuals lying around?”
Henrietta looked perturbed. “I say we wait it out. As long as those lights stay green, I think he’s okay. Let nature take its course.”
Stiles sneered, “That fat pig is probably soaking up all our supplies while he’s sitting there.”
“Thanks for being so concerned,” Peter said. Stiles ignored him. “Okay,” Peter continued, “Arietta’s right, I think. Let’s scout around and see if we can find anything wrong with the ship; get it to respond somehow. Jimmy, you stay with Ali. Let us know if anything happens.”
“Me? Why me?”
Stiles swatted at Jimmy and caugh
t the edge of his shoulder with the tips of his fingers. “’Cause you’re worthless for anything else,” Stiles answered. “Like a fart in space.”
Jimmy stepped quickly away before Stiles could slap at him again.
Stiles looked at Peter, “And by the way, who died and left you boss, anyway?”
Peter shrugged his shoulders. “No one, but you got any better ideas?”
“No,” Stiles relented.
Peter tried to figure out what to do next. Assigning Jimmy the job of looking over Ali was easy, but the other assignments would not be so obvious. He looked around. “Okay, then: Arietta, would you please go down to environmental and look around?”
“For what?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Anything that looks out of place. Anything that can help us with the ship.”
“Everything on this ship looks out of place,” Henrietta replied stubbornly.
“Yeah, I know, but look around for anything that might make the ship respond. But don’t turn anything off. If you find anything, use the intercom and call us first.”
“Okay.” Henrietta shrugged. She took off for the lift and disappeared around a bank of instruments, mumbling something about environments in Brazil and rather wanting to be there.
Peter agreed silently that Brazil would probably be far better. “Stiles, do you prefer this deck, or the hangar?”
“Hangar.” Without saying another word, Stiles followed Henrietta to the port lift, but went up one level instead of down.
Now it was just Jimmy and Peter, with Ali still sitting calmly in his chair. “Jimmy, I’ll stay on this floor, so if you need anything just call out.”
“Deck ….”
Peter looked back at Jimmy. “What?” Peter asked.
“It’s a deck; not a floor.” Jimmy muttered the words while he stared blankly at his own shoes.
Peter shook his head, waiting for Jimmy to look up. “Jimmy, you’d be far better off not correcting everyone all the time. It makes Stiles mad.”
Jimmy glanced up slyly, “I know.” Jimmy tried to smile. “But for you and the others, I’ll try and remember.”
“Fair enough. Keep an eye on Ali; that’s your job right now.”
Jimmy nodded, looking serious again.
Peter walked all the way to the back of the ship and passed by the six fusion power plants. All of them seemed on, but only one was humming, and mildly at that. He dared not touch anything; the one that was on was probably powering the internal life support. He saw a console nearby with “Bridge Communications” labeled at the top. He switched it on.
“Hello, Bridge: come in.” Peter hoped the ship would reply, but it didn’t. “Ship, alter course two degrees to starboard.”
Nothing. “Well, it was worth a try,” Peter mumbled.
He continued forward, passing Jimmy again. “Anything?”
“No change. He’s still asleep.”
I hope, Peter thought. He walked by several exotic-looking machines, passing his hand nonchalantly through one projected screen. The lights to the ship went out to his touch. “Oops!” Peter quickly swiped through the diaphanous screen again and the lights turned back on.
“What happened?” Stiles asked over the PA.
“Sorry,” Peter replied. “I tried something. Obviously, I found out how to turn off the lights.”
“Be careful,” Stiles warned.
“I know.” Peter scribbled “Lights” on a film tablet and placed it on the console. “Stiles, Arietta,” he said, “find a tablet, and if you discover what anything does, write it down and post it.” They both agreed to Peter’s suggestion while he continued on to computing.
* * *
Henrietta rode the lift to the bottom deck, turning to the right and to the storage room. It was large and empty and her footsteps echoed against the barren walls. Don’t need to worry about anything spoiling, she realized, ’cause there’s nothing here to spoil. She went into the next room and found the manufactory and laboratory facilities. Not a single console or machine was on. That was where she was when Peter accidentally turned the lights off. Shortly after, she moved further along and activated a console. Instructions began playing from its interface, *SPECIFY PARAMETERS FOR GOODS REQUIRED.*
“Ship, is that you?” Henrietta asked.
*INSUFFICIENT PARAMETERS SPECIFIED,* the machine answered. *PLEASE SPECIFY A PRODUCT REQUIREMENT.*
Henrietta stared at the machine for a few minutes, wondering what it could do. “I need a writing tablet and stylus,” Henrietta said.
*WORKING ….* The machine began whirring. *ITEM WILL BE AVAILABLE IN FIVE MINUTES AT STORAGE BIN 23-A.*
It was a manufacturing unit. She wondered if it had any limitations. “Cool. Now give me a diamond necklace.”
*PLEASE SPECIFY TOTAL CARATS AND CUT PREFERENCES.*
Henrietta’s eyes opened wide. “Really? Never mind,” Henrietta decided. A diamond necklace was not needed at the moment, but she would be sure to remember where this thing was.
*ITEM CANCELLED.*
She wondered if it could do anything else. So far, it was the only thing on the ship that spoke since the jump. “What’s wrong with the ship?” Henrietta asked.
*INSUFFICIENT PARAMETERS SPECIFIED,* the machine answered. *PLEASE SPECIFY A PRODUCT REQUIREMENT.*
“I knew that would be too easy. Never mind … máquina estúpida.” Finding nothing else of interest, Henrietta moved on toward the environmental section further ahead.
* * *
Stiles left the lift and walked immediately to a fighter craft, bypassing the boring courier along the way. “Ooh, let’s see if this puppy works!” He pressed the entry switch and the hatch opened. “Now we’re talking,” he exclaimed. He entered the sleek craft, going directly to the pilot’s seat.
Inside the cabin, he saw a series of complicated consoles and instruments. He settled into the plush seat and got comfortable. Lights began twinkling from the weight he exerted. Numbers appeared, cycling over several screens at once.
*INPUT COMMAND SEQUENCE,* the fighter craft requested.
The fighter was ready to go, but apparently there were initiating commands to start it up.
“Darn,” Stiles replied. “Override security protocols.”
*UNABLE TO COMPLY. COMMAND SEQUENCE REQUIRED FOR OPERATION.*
“One-two-three-four-five,” Stiles suggested.
*INCORRECT CODING. TWO ADDITIONAL ATTEMPTS ARE POSSIBLE BEFORE SYSTEM RESET.*
“Never mind.” Stiles was disappointed, but realized there was not much he could do with the fighter yet anyway. He thought for a moment and tried something else, “Run fighter diagnostics, and report status.”
*WORKING ….*
The instrument panels began cycling furiously. After a minute or two, the fighter replied, *ALL SYSTEMS ARE OPTIMAL. CRAFT IS FULLY ARMED AND READY FOR FLIGHT OPERATIONS.*
The fighter just monitored all its systems and reported the results. Stiles wondered if it could be used as an entryway into the larger ship. “Report status of mother ship,” Stiles requested.
*WORKING ….*
The instruments began to light up again.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Stiles said, rubbing his hands together. He waited a few minutes for the diagnostics to run their course.
*SAMPSON K. PERRY IS CURRENTLY AT MINIMAL OPERATIONAL CAPACITY. LIFE SUPPORT AND MANUFACTORIES ARE SET AT 100 PERCENT. INTERNAL COMMUNICATIONS ARE FUNCTIONAL, BUT ALL EXTERNAL LINKS ARE OFFLINE. LOAD BURDEN IS CURRENTLY AT 1.6 PERCENT. ALL OPERATIONAL DATABASES ARE INACTIVE, AND CURRENTLY IN LOCK-OUT CONFIGURATION. ALL THRUSTERS AND MAIN ENGINES ARE IN THE OFF POSITION. THE SHIP IS DRIFTING.*
“What is our current position?”
*UNKNOWN. NAVIGATION DATABASE IS IN LOCK-OUT CONFIGURATION.*
Stiles just found out the ship did not know where it was. He did not know if that was because the ship was dead, or that it simply did not know. “Initialize all systems.”
*INSUFFICIENT COMMAND AUTHORIT
Y TO COMPLY,* the fighter responded.
“Override.”
*UNABLE TO COMPLY.*
“Very good. Revert to standby mode.”
*WORKING ….*
The lights quickly went out.
Stiles got up and left the craft. “Well, that was fun.” He did learn something about their condition, even though it was not much. “More than Campbell probably figured out,” Stiles boasted proudly.
Stiles left the hangar and entered the gymnasium at the front of the ship. Forward, he reminded himself, thinking of that know-it-all, null-grav fart. He did not expect to see much in this room, and was not surprised. It looked like a thousand other recreational facilities he had seen, except no one was there. It looked spooky. He sat at a weight machine and gave it a shot. It hardly budged at his efforts. “Yeah, well ….” Stiles got up and strolled through the other exercise machines.
“Hey, guys.” Jimmy’s voice came over the PA. “It’s Ali. He’s starting to move.”
“Is he all right?” Peter asked after a minute or two.
“I think so,” Jimmy replied. “He’s calling for you.”
“Be right there,” Peter replied.
* * *
“You sure had us scared,” Henrietta said.
The kids were gathered around Ali as he slowly came out of stasis. The small engineering room barely had room for everyone. The green, membranous walls gently throbbed as the power generated from the nearby power plants coursed throughout the ship. Ali absently knuckled his eyes, trying to wake up.
“How long have I been out?”
“Oh, about two hours,” Peter replied.
Henrietta handed Ali a water bulb, making sure he did not drop it. Through hazy vision, he fumbled with the tip until he got it open.
“Thanks. I need this.” He took a sip. “Didn’t we jump, then?”
“Yes,” Peter said.
Ali looked confused. He shook his head and said, “And it’s only been two hours? Was it a micro-jump?”
“Two hours since we came out of jump,” Peter clarified.
Ali nodded, finally realizing what they were saying. “Oh, I see. So where are we?” he asked.
“I don’t—”
Stiles interrupted Peter. “He thinks we flew to Never-Never-Land. Peter Pan here took us there. Seems we got ourselves this magical sailing ship.”
“Do not,” Peter countered. “Just said we’re not where we’re supposed to be.”