“No,” Addison replied. “A runner from their group came back this morning. He said he’d asked if she wanted any message delivered, and she’d just laughed.”
“That sounds like her,” Tann mused.
“The runner said they think they’ll clear the passage by tonight, and then we’ll know if we have sensors or not soon after.”
“Hmm…” The Salarian tapped at his chin. “It’s taking longer than I’d expected.”
Addison could only shrug. Everything seemed to be taking longer than expected, since the food shortages became common knowledge.
“Well,” Tann said, “as much as I value her advice, decisions still need to be made.”
Addison paused, gauging his words. Wariness and excitement, but most of all? She’d grab anything to be busy. And in the end, things had to be done. No matter what.
“What did you have in mind?”
The salarian smiled. “As long as you’ve advised me, that still counts as being advised, yes?”
“True.”
“And you know how Sloane gets annoyed when she’s asked to weigh in on minor matters.”
“Also true,” Addison said, already seeing where this was leading.
Tann went on. “I think we should see how many such minor matters we can clear from the list before she returns. It’s what you’d call a win-win I believe. Not only do decisions get made, but Sloane is spared from the monotony of the process.”
“Minor matters,” Addison repeated. “Like what?”
“I had an idea that perhaps we should repurpose one of the refrigerant tanks to serve as an additional water purifier. The team tells me it’s possible with the materials we have at hand, and would only lead to a slight temperature increase within the livable areas. As a result, we would have enough extra fresh water to allow people showers once every two days.”
“Oh,” Addison replied. A hot shower sounded like extreme luxury. Her skin tingled just thinking about it. “Define ‘slight’?”
“Well within human tolerances.”
“Tann…”
“Two degrees Celsius, on average.”
“Better, thank you. Um, yes, I think that sounds like a good plan.”
“There,” he said, “you see? A decision made, and one less thing for our security director to worry about when she returns.”
“What else have you got?” Addison asked. A bit too quickly perhaps, but she was beyond caring. Doing something that felt like actual accomplishment felt too good to care.
“Let’s meet in Operations and go over the list?”
“Perfect,” Addison replied. “On my way.”
She walked down a hallway where a team of krogan workers was welding a complex, if somewhat ramshackle, array of support beams into place. A temporary fix to a ceiling that could no longer support the weight of whatever lay above. None of them paid Addison any attention, so complete was their focus on the work.
And yet as she passed she thought she could feel something radiating off of them. Not hatred, or even resentment, feelings she often sensed from other races in the emergency population. No, this was something else. Their body language, so deliberately continuing to work despite her passage. Their lack of eye contact, as if by force of will they were allowing her a brief respite from the accusatory glances others cast her way.
They seemed to be saying, “We’ll handle this, now go solve the bigger problems.” Addison stopped at the end of the short hallway and turned back toward them.
“Thank you,” she said.
This earned a few confused looks. They looked to each other as if trying to figure out who she’d spoken to.
“Thank you,” Addison repeated, “for all the hard work.”
“Well, sure,” one of them replied. Then he went back to the task at hand.
Addison continued on, mind churning now. So many questions, concerns, and possibilities. Answers were still apparitions at the edge of that mental fog, always blurring away to nothing if she tried to grasp at them.
And then, one didn’t. It stayed just visible, moving no closer or no farther as she worked toward it. This became a path, of sorts, and with each little step Addison found some of her old confidence. Her sense of purpose. This was the right thing. The idea she’d been waiting for.
So simple, she began to curse herself for not thinking it sooner. It was the price to pay, she supposed, for allowing herself to become so depressed, but she’d fix that now.
Over the last leg of her walk, Addison worked out the basics in her head. She resisted the urge to call Spender and task him with figuring out the details. That was something she’d done too often of late.
No, this was hers to begin.
Help could come later.
Foster Addison swept into Operations with her chin up and a focus she’d not felt since the Scourge first struck.
Two crew members sat at the main console, in a hopeless vigil that sensors might magically start to work, or a signal might get through. “Any sign of the arks?” she asked them as she passed.
“Negative,” they both said in unison.
Always the same answer.
Tann stood just behind them, looking at a datapad.
“I have a proposal,” she said before Tann could speak.
“Err, good!” the salarian said with more than a little dubiousness. He had his own list already displayed, but with a tap of his long finger it winked away.
“We can spare eight ships,” Addison said firmly. “I’ve worked through the numbers, and with the rest we could still support an evacuation. It’s time, Tann. We can’t wait for the Pathfinders. We need to scout the closest worlds and find out if there’s anything useful nearby. A suitable location for an off-Nexus colony, resources we can harvest or mine.”
“Hmmmm,” he replied.
If I can just convince him… Addison forged ahead.
“We can’t just keep huddled up in here, hoping our supply problem will magically go away. Hoping the Pathfinders will come and rescue us. They should have been here by now. We all know it. It’s time we accepted it.”
“Addison—”
“Let me finish.” Tann drew back, clearly surprised. “As for rationing, it only delays the inevitable. It won’t take another run-in with the Scourge to kill us all. One more little thing goes wrong in hydroponics and it’s over. We’re done.”
“You’re right,” Tann said. “I agree.”
“My plan will work if we staff—” she pressed. “Wait, what?”
“I agree with you.”
“That was… easier than I expected.”
He sensed her puzzlement and explained. “My attempt to persuade people to return to stasis failed,” he said. “And now rationing has had a negative impact on morale, cutting into the progress of repairs. So, yes, I agree.”
“Well,” Addison said, “shit, Tann, I’m glad to hear that.”
“Sloane won’t like it,” the salarian added. “But, go on. Staffing, you were saying?”
She’d almost lost her train of thought. Yesterday she might have, but the focus she’d gained had done wonders for her mental state. Addison felt like herself again.
“I thought at first a simple pilot and co-pilot arrangement would be best. Minimal, so as to not take able-bodied personnel away from the efforts here. Perhaps even letting the automated systems handle the flights, essentially using the ships as giant unmanned probes.
“But now I realize we not only can, but should fully staff the shuttles. Mount true exploratory missions. Not only will we get better results, but we’ll reduce the drain on our supplies aboard the Nexus.”
“Very interesting, indeed,” Tann said. He stood and joined her by the table, bringing up a display showing the nearby star systems. The map had been created using old-fashioned measurement methods, based on visual observations. Rough to the point of being useless, but it was all they had.