“Coming in now,” Henrietta replied. A complex squiggly line started to form on Henrietta’s screen. She transferred it to the main screen as it continued to build. Henrietta started naming off the compounds as they were identified. “Water vapor … carbon dioxide … carbon monoxide … ammonia … nitrogen … and hydrogen sulfide ….”
“Any O-2; ozone …?” Stiles asked.
“Negative,” Henrietta replied. “No methane, either. It appears to be a reducing atmosphere.”
“What’s that mean?” Stiles asked.
“We live in an oxidizing atmosphere, not reducing,” Henrietta replied. “Actually, it is that type of atmosphere down there that life probably started on Earth. Funny, I think we arrived a couple million years too early.”
Stiles slammed the palm of his hand down on his armrest in frustration. “This can’t be. There has to be life down there.”
“Sorry, Stiles,” Henrietta replied. “No chlorophyll is evident. And with no methane present, it looks more like an early prebiotic environment. I doubt there are even any bacteria.”
“Or cotton candy,” Peter added. Henrietta laughed lightly.
“What’s so funny?” Stiles asked.
“Inside joke,” Henrietta explained. “Not about you, though. So, do we continue with orbital insertion?”
“No, what’s the use?” Stiles replied sadly.
The beautiful azure and white planet faded from view to the side of the ship as they veered away from the swirling Omicron system.
* * *
“So tell me what you’ve found.” Stiles was in his large cabin late in the evening with the lights at half illumination. It was not a good day for Stiles. All his hopes for easily finding food evaporated before his eyes. And to make matters worse, his hopes were raised so high from the initial reports of that blasted moon. He had to turn his fortunes somehow, and information from the ship was what he needed to make that happen.
“I have learned a great deal, Captain Essen,” Perry replied happily. “The past two days have been quite eventful. If you wish, I could begin our discussions with the astrographic data we have accumulated—”
“Just stick to what the crew has been up to,” Stiles replied abruptly.
Perry hummed. “Would you like a detailed breakdown of their recent activities?”
“Yeah, make it since I assumed command. Send a tabular report to my PAD.”
“Done ….”
He’s efficient; I’ll grant him that. “What about any conversations? Has anyone talked about the missing snacks?”
“Jimmy and Peter had a brief conversation three hours ago, discussing how unfortunate the event was.”
“Did either of them admit to it?”
“No, Captain Essen; both seemed genuinely puzzled. Dermal temperature readings indicated they were likely telling the truth.”
“It’s got to be Hamadi, then. I knew it was him. Keep an eye on him.”
“As you wish,” Perry replied.
“Has anyone said anything about me, or how the mission is going?”
“Oh, yes. Those have been main topics of conversation since we came out of jump, actually—”
“Hold it right there.” Stiles was getting really annoyed at Perry. He took things too literally. Ask him an easy question, and he wandered off on wild tangents. “Restrict your reply to the last couple days.”
Perry hummed. “Just last evening Henrietta and Peter discussed the coming transition of captains and how much they look forward to it.”
So there is proof, Stiles thought with glee. “Really …. Do you remember what they said?” Stiles asked.
“Of course,” Perry replied indignantly. “I could play back the pertinent portions of the conversation, if you wish.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes; I would not have suggested it had it been otherwise.”
“Then do it,” Stiles replied sternly.
Henrietta’s voice came over the speakers, sounding very much to Stiles like she was speaking softly, almost as if she were whispering. “I just want you to get better, so I can sign you off again as captain. We need someone steady at the helm.”
Peter eagerly replied, “Yeah, that’d be nice.” He sounded wistful, as if he wanted it in the worst way.
He wants it so much he could taste it, Stiles realized. “That’s very interesting. Scan for anything else on this topic,” Stiles commanded. “I want to know if there are any trends developing here.”
“Yes, there definitely are, Captain Essen. After we left the vicinity of Planet Xi, Henrietta and I were alone in medical. It was there that she asked me who would make the better captain.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her I did not have sufficient experience determining the differences between humans. I will now play back her reply.”
“I wish Peter would get better. I want him back to normal. I want him back in command.” There was a slight pause and she continued speaking. “Yeah, I prefer Peter on the bridge.”
Stiles could hear the conspiracy saturating her voice—oozing out.
Perry continued explaining what went on during the conversation. “We then went on to discuss what she would need to do to put him back in command.”
“And what was that?”
“Nothing of substance was concluded … out loud, at least,” Perry replied. “Although she seemed to have a definite plan, however unspoken it may have been.”
It was worse than he thought. They appeared to be actively plotting against him. “You have any more good news for me?” Stiles asked.
“Actually, I believe I do. The two of us seem to have something very much in common.”
“What’s that?” Stiles asked suspiciously.
“No one on board seems to like you, Captain Essen. Everyone talks negatively about you whenever they have the chance. It reminds me of the small regard Lieutenant Wilkins held for me. No matter what I tried, I could never seem to please him, although I fail to understand why. In that respect, we may be kindred spirits, as the saying goes.”
“I wouldn’t call that good news,” Stiles retorted, “or necessarily accurate. Are there any other conspiratorial conversations going on around here?”
“Yes there was, in a manner of speaking,” Perry continued. “Shortly after you left the bridge, while we were still at Planet Xi, Henrietta was talking ….”
Henrietta’s voice came up again, “I won’t be able to stomach Stiles in that command chair for one more day ….”
Stiles was stunned at the tone of her voice. “Huh. Sounds like she had a busy day yesterday ….” I’ll need to find more things to keep her busy, he thought.
“Oh, yes, Captain Essen, she has been very busy. By the way, Captain Essen, why did you lie to me eleven days ago?”
Stiles felt a stab of cold pain hit his stomach. He frantically tried to remember what he said eleven days ago. He even tried to recall what was going on back then, to put it in some sort of context. “What? When? What do you mean?” Stiles stammered.
“You were in the shuttle, provisioning it for departure and you initiated a private conversation with me.” Perry began playing back the conversation Stiles initiated.
“I’m the oldest one aboard this ship.”
“I was not aware of that fact.”
“Well, now you know.” Stiles cringed at the memory of that conversation.
“Yes, that is correct.”
“So that puts me in charge.”
There was a momentary silence as Perry thought through what Stiles was saying. “I do not follow that logic, Stiles.”
“That’s the tradition in the Colonial Academy.”
Stiles began to panic. His heart raced as he tried to back his way out of Perry’s accusation. “Well, it is,” Stiles insisted, “why would you question me?”
“Henrietta pointed out that you fabricated that story to convince me to take your commands.”
“Did she?” Stil
es burned with a white-hot anger; not only for the lie he was caught in, but of what that witch was doing to him. He became more incensed when he heard her twisting his words around.
Perry: “Why would Stiles tell me that?”
Henrietta: “Probably because he wanted to be in command, and who better to help than the one he’s commanding.”
The burning hatred intensified, but Stiles would not give up so easily. “Why would you believe that? She’s the one who’s obviously lying.”
Perry hummed for several seconds. “Her logic was impeccable. She instructed me to cross-check old Academy records. There are numerous instances of younger Academy officers in charge of older fellow crewmates. In fact, there have only been four cases out of 3,200 in my database where a ship’s captain was senior in age to all other crew at the time of command.
“In addition, your current elevated heart rate and temperature indicate you are telling falsehoods as we speak. I find it difficult to see the reasoning behind this discrepancy, Captain Essen.”
“I—I …” Stiles stammered, “… maybe I was wrong back then. You see … Peter—no, wait a minute; it wasn’t Peter, come to think of it; it was my dad—yeah, he told me about that regulation. So, I just assumed it was true. I had no idea he was wrong. Perry, I’m sure glad you straightened that out. I so much hate being wrong. I probably should thank Henrietta for correcting that mix-up.”
“And your heart rate just now is accelerated simply because you are embarrassed?”
“Yes, I am; very embarrassed. I can’t tell you how much.”
Perry hummed and then began to purr. “There have been several times when Henrietta displayed a similar reaction to embarrassing situations. This is now making sense, and clarifies many erroneous assumptions I was making. I am so pleased we cleared that up, Captain Essen.”
“Me too, Perry. Me too.”
Initially, Stiles thought Perry’s ability to record and rebroadcast the crew’s conversations would come in handy, but now he realized it would be a curse. He would need to watch what he said from now on. Even more so, he would need to watch what that meddlesome, little female was saying. And keep her firmly in line in the process.
CHAPTER 16
Antares Star System – Null Point
“Hey, Peter?”
“Hold on a minute, Arietta.”
Henrietta was in her medical office and just called Peter who was still resting in his cabin. She impatiently waited until Peter came back on the com.
“Sorry, I just got up. What’s up?”
“You haven’t eaten breakfast yet?” she asked sternly.
“Oops; caught me, Mom. But I promise to eat before ten-hundred hours. Deal?”
Well, at least he’s got some energy, she thought. “Alright, but actually that’s not why I called. My schedule’s super-crazy today, so do you have a minute to come down to the clinic right now?”
She waited a heartbeat or two for Peter to respond. “Yeah, I can be down in five minutes. Okay?”
“Sure; I’ll be waiting.” Henrietta closed the com and rolled her chair to the manufacturing unit. She input the parameters for the cytokine solution and a more resilient batch of specialized nanocytes than the ones she used in Peter’s previous treatment. This medication would flood Peter’s system with an emergency dose of replacement cells. They were specially designed to reconstitute his weakening bone marrow, where his recent scans were shown to be still deteriorated. Included was an aggressive broad-spectrum antivirus suite to help his immune system fight off possible infections, especially in his respiratory system. At the last minute, she also checked for something to increase his appetite that would not conflict with the other medications. Satisfied with the mixture, she pressed the “Activate” button.
*MEDICATION WILL BE READY IN FIVE MINUTES,* the automated medical lab unit replied. *PLEASE CROSS-CHECK CONSTITUENT PRINTOUT PRIOR TO ADMINISTERING. CAUTION: MEDICATION SHOULD NOT BE STORED FOR OVER ONE HOUR.*
Peter entered the office while the unit produced the prescription.
“Good timing. Have a seat,” Henrietta instructed. She reached over and pulled out the medication vial.
Peter grimaced as he sank into the chair across from her desk. “Ah, your little chamber of horrors … the next torture is ready, huh?”
“Yup, this one takes over from where the first one left off. This one’s different, though. It’s very sensitive, so it can’t sit around for long. I want you to report to me at this time each day so I know when to mix it up.”
Henrietta guided Peter to the overhead medical unit and positioned his body for the injection site.
He looked annoyed. “This isn’t a one-shot deal?”
Henrietta swabbed his skin with alcohol and shook her head without replying.
“So, how long is this series for, anyway?”
“I’ve designed it to run until the morning we are ready to jump.”
“You need four days for this?”
“Yeah.”
Peter looked at Henrietta suspiciously.
“What?” she asked.
“You little sneak.” Henrietta did not take the bait, so Peter continued, “Ali was complaining about you a couple days ago. Did you go along with Stiles’ stupid plans just to buy us more time?”
“What? Me? No,” she answered quickly. It sounded like one word.
“Sure,” Peter accused.
She injected the meds into Peter’s blood stream, allowing the nanocytes to saturate the radio-tagged target areas. She swiped his skin with alcohol again and tugged his shirt down. “Hey, I’d never sway the captain of this ship with an abuse of my power as chief medical officer.” She looked up shyly, “I may have mentioned in passing which planets here might be habitable …. But purposely trick him? That wouldn’t be ethical.”
Peter continued to stare at Henrietta as he got up. “Well, I’m glad you’d never do that to the captain.”
“Never,” Henrietta agreed solemnly. She quickly threw the vial into the medical waste stream. “Well, come on, get out of here. I got other things to do today; you’re not my only patient around here.”
“Maybe not the only one, but I’m your favorite,” Peter suggested.
Henrietta blushed. “Oh, yeah, right.” She watched Peter leave her office. “And get something to eat!” she called after him.
She entered the treatment session into her medical log and ran the prognosis routine again. He should be on the road to recovery by the time they were ready for jump, but his system would still be pretty fragile. She tapped her stylus on her desk in thought.
“Perry?”
“Yes, Henrietta.”
“While we’re in jump, I want you to administer a full supply of nutrients to Peter instead of half rations. He needs to gain his strength back during the down time.”
Perry hummed.
So why is he annoyed all of a sudden? Henrietta wondered.
“I should inform Captain Essen of this decision.”
“Is this about King Stupid’s request to monitor our food intake?”
“If by ‘King Stupid,’ you are referring to Captain Essen, then yes,” Perry replied.
“So, what was Stiles’ exact order to you?” Henrietta asked.
Perry accessed his memory bank and replayed the order. Stiles’ voice came out of the speakers from their recent session in the galley. “I want a full accounting of everything everyone eats, until further notified.”
“Wow, that’s cool,” Henrietta remarked. “You record everything that’s said?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm, good to know,” she reflected. “So, what Stiles wants is an accounting of what everyone has eaten, not what they plan to eat. Right?”
Perry purred. “His order could be interpreted that way.”
“I’m glad you agree,” Henrietta said. “I also want you to monitor Peter’s state of health very carefully in K-T-space. If there are any signs of infection, shoot him full of the broad-spect
rum antibiotic and antivirus meds I’m listing here.” She sent Perry a list of suitable medications to complement his current treatment.
“That is part of my duties for all crew while we are within hyperspace, Henrietta.”
He sounds annoyed again. Man, he can be touchy. “I know; just pay special attention to Peter. He’s very susceptible to infection right now.”
“Of course, Henrietta. I will be sure to take good care of all of you.”
* * *
The ship continued speeding away from Antares-A, and was now approaching the void of space between the gravitational attraction of both stars of the binary system, but because Antares-A was so much more massive than the B component, they still had a few days’ travel before they reached the exit point. The entire crew was in the galley finishing their small lunch.
Stiles cleared his throat, indicating he had something important to say. Everyone quieted down and waited for the next round of stupidity to begin.
“Starting after dinner tonight, I want full 24-hour coverage on the ship.”
“Why?” Jimmy asked. “What’s the sense?”
“The ‘sense’ is that this is the way it is done on all Colonial Academy ships of war. We’ve been too lax to date, and it’s high time we tighten up the way this ship operates.”
Stiles decided not to tell them the real reason was he wanted to keep that troublesome Henry and Peter Pan separated from each other before they hatched any more plots against him.
“But—”
“But nothing, Mr. Dallas,” Stiles continued. “I am in command, and that is the way it will be. Starting after dinner, you, Peter, and I will retire early. Mr. Hamadi and Ms. Moreira will take the graveyard shift from eighteen-hundred to oh-six-hundred, at which time Mr. Hamadi will be in command. At oh-six-hundred, you two will be relieved, and will establish your own sleep periods within the 12-hour interval available to you.”
“This is nuts,” Jimmy whined. “With Perry here, he can monitor things far better than any of us; and around the clock, too. Right, Perry?”
“That is correct, Jimmy,” Perry replied.
“That doesn’t matter,” Stiles persisted. “It’s my decision, and that’s the way it’ll be.”
“I have critical treatments that need to continue with Peter,” Henrietta objected. “They cannot be interrupted.”
Stiles stiffened at the suggestion. “You’ll need to find a way around that. Perhaps you can show me how to administer the medications. I’d be happy to do that for you.”