Chapter 23
The new bulkheads around my quarters made the inside pretty well soundproof, and the single entrance, which could be locked from either inside or outside, gave privacy. Mel and I ought to be safe.
Of course, you could view it another way. Unless I wanted to go crawling through the air ducts again, Danny Shaker had created a fairly good prison.
I didn’t tell Mel that. More and more, I was realizing what a handful she could be.
I had evidence of that on the first evening, as the Cuchulain made ready to leave Paddy’s Fortune. Mel and I were preparing for our first meal onboard, which I had carried over from the dining area. The automatic ovens produced as much food as anyone asked for, so providing enough for two was no problem.
I started to eat, but Mel wrinkled her nose in disgust at the first mouthful.
“This tastes lousy. What’s wrong with it?”
I tasted mine. “Nothing. It’s perfectly fine.”
“Fine? No wonder the crew on this ship are always in a foul temper. I wish I’d brought some decent food with me.”
But she was starving, and after a moment she went on eating.
The curious thing is, I had thought that the food on Home had something wrong with it. Reminded of that now, I fished the little silver box of pills out of my pocket and laid it on the table.
“You’re supposed to take one with each meal,” Mel said.
“I know. How come you don’t have any?”
“Because I don’t need them.” She sounded grouchy and bossy. “What’s the matter, afraid you’ll be poisoned? The controller’s health monitors decided you need those, and they’re never wrong. Swallow your pill.”
“Suppose their programs are designed for females? I don’t want to be fed pills for women.” But after a few more seconds I took a little blue capsule from the box and washed it down with water. It tasted of nothing.
I didn’t have time to worry about its possible effects, because within a few seconds a vibration shook the whole room. My weight increased from near nothing to something substantial. Mel, a spoon at her mouth, missed it and hit her chin. She gave me a surprised glance.
“It’s all right,” I said. “That’s the drive heading up to power. We’re on our way.”
She jumped up. “Wonderful. Come on.”
“Come on where?”
“I want to take a last look at Home. It could be months before I’m back.”
So much for explanations and warnings. “You can’t do that! You can’t go near a viewing port or a display screen. You can’t go anywhere until we get to Godspeed Base.”
I wasn’t sure what would happen after that. Danny Shaker had said things would change, but he hadn’t told me how.
“It’s going to be at least an eight-day trip,” she said. “Eight whole days! I’ll go out late at night, when no one is around.”
“Mel, this isn’t Erin, or Paddy’s Fortune, with a night and a day. It’s a ship. Things happen around the clock.”
“Well, I can’t stay stuck in this little hole forever. It’s worse than being back at Home. You have to do something. You’re the one who got me into this.”
That was so outrageous I couldn’t do more than glare at her.
“You did,” she said. “You told me that I’d have more space to wander around in than I could ever imagine.”
“I meant on Erin, when we get there—not on this ship.”
“Well, you should have been clear. You should have—”
How long we might have gone on with that, I don’t know, because Mel’s next objection was interrupted by a rattling sound from the outer door of the living quarters. It was locked, and in principle only Shaker had a key. But Mel made a dive for the inside room, while I stared at the table and realized that if anyone did manage to get in I would have a hard time explaining why there were places set for two.
It was Danny Shaker. He looked grim. He came right to the table, settled down in Mel’s chair, and glanced around him. “Where is Mel Fury?”
“Inside. We heard you coming.”
“Get her. I have to talk to both of you.”
Mel had recognized his voice, and was already on her way back into the room.
“Two problems.” Shaker wasn’t one to mess about, and he came to the point at once. “Nothing you can do about either of them, but you need to know what they are. First, the ship. When we came up to full drive, the engines of the Cuchulain showed an imbalance. We’ll keep going for five or six days, but when we turn and prepare for deceleration we’ll have to switch off and do another overhaul. That means a period of free-fall, and since we’ll be under reduced power it adds a few days to the trip time.”
I could imagine Mel’s reaction to that, but Danny Shaker didn’t wait to hear it.
“That’s the practical problem. The other one is more worrying. It’s the crew.” He stared at Mel. “When we left, did you bring anything with you? Trinkets, or gadgets, or anything else?”
Mel shook her head. “I didn’t bring anything. Just what I’m wearing.”
She saw me glance across at the counter. “Well, that as well. But it’s just my backpack. I carry it all the time, it’s like part of my clothes.”
“What’s in it?” Shaker asked.
“Oh, bits and pieces, all sorts of things.”
“Did you lose anything from it?”
“No, I’m sure I didn’t.”
I wasn’t sure. Nor was Danny Shaker.
“You think you didn’t,” he said. “But Joe Munroe and Robbie Doonan did the final inspection of the cargo beetle before it went into mothballs for the trip, and I think one of them got a sniff of something that shouldn’t have been there. Not a word was said to me, but I sense trouble. Too many little private meetings, too much silence when I’m around.”
Danny Shaker wasn’t a man to rant and rave about anything, and Mel didn’t know what a band of cutthroats the rest of the crew were. So it’s not surprising that she didn’t realize the significance of what he was saying.
I did, though. “What should we do?”
“Not one thing. Lie low, stay quiet, don’t move unless I tell you otherwise. I’ll have to bring you out for part of the time, Jay, you’re crew now and you have to work. But don’t give a hint, ever, that there’s anything aboard this ship from Paddy’s Fortune. And especially don’t let anyone suspect there might be more than one person in here.”
It was exactly what I wanted Mel to hear, but it might have had little effect on her if Shaker hadn’t backed words with action. “I’ll do my best to stay on top of things,” he said, “but don’t be misled by that session back on the cargo beetle. I handled the problem, but there’s still a lot of anger and hot blood in the crew. I don’t know how well I can control it. In case I can’t”—he reached into his own pocket—“I think you ought to have this.”
He pulled out Walter Hamilton’s white-handled pistol and handed it to me. I took it—nervously. “Is it loaded?”
“Full magazine. No point in handing somebody an empty gun.” He studied my face. “I’m giving it to you, Jay, and you ought to carry it with you all the time. But I’ll be honest: I don’t know if you’ve got the guts to shoot, no matter how you’re threatened. Just remember this: Don’t ever point a weapon you’re not willing to use.”