'Holtz - see what you can do about this, then report to me. Rama, take an emergency medical kit and go with him in case anyone has been injured. Could it be equipment failure...?'
At the door, First Engineer Holtz turned and snorted. 'None of my equipment. 64A is a passenger cabin.'
Don felt too tired to face any more crises, but he knew he had to. Sitting up was an effort, but he finally did it. He switched off the oxygen, then had to wait a moment to regain some bit of strength. Fire. Just as if the ship's oxygen supply wasn't bad enough already. And their orbit, he had to think about that now. Everyone had forgotten about it during the solar storm. If they didn't find a way of correcting course soon it would be too late - and they would go right on past Mars and into the eternity of interstellar space. The phone rang. He reached out and painfully picked it up.
'Captain here,' he said automatically, no longer self-conscious about using the tide. Chief Kurikka looked out of the tiny screen.
'Captain, is First Engineer Holtz there? There has been a report of a fire...'
'I know. He's taking care of it. Where are you now?'
'In the control-room, sir, taking temporary command. The thing is that we are getting more reports on smoke throughout A deck. We can't tell yet if there are other fires, or if the smoke from 64A is being spread by the ventilation system. Request permission to seal and cut off air circulation in A deck and clear the deck.'
'Permission granted. Contact me here as soon as you hear anything else.'
Don hung up the phone and rose, slowly, to his feet. Ignoring the swimming sensation this caused, he walked to the door and leaned on the handle for a moment before opening it. He was in the isolation room that opened directly into his office. The drug cabinet was on the far wall. By the time he reached it he was walking a little better. He put his thumb on the identification plate and the lock clicked open: it would open only to the pattern of his thumbprint. There were potent drugs here that would mask his fatigue and supply the energy to carry on. He did not like to use them - and he would pay for it later with an even greater fatigue reaction - but at this moment he had no choice. The glass vial slipped into the barrel of the spray hypodermic, and he gave himself the injection. The phone rang while he was closing the drug cabinet.
It was Kurikka again and this time, if possible, his glum expression was deeper than ever.
'Air circulation stopped and deck sealed. All passengers evacuated. I've sent some men to help. But - can you get over there, sir? They need a doctor.'
'What for?'
'Sounds like smoke poisoning.'
'I'm on my way.'
The drug was taking effect: Don felt light-headed, but strong enough to walk around now. There was oxygen in the emergency medical kit that Rama had taken, but they might need more. He undipped a tank and mask from the wall and hurried out.
There were airtight doors sealing off A deck, but they were unlocked, and opened when he came close. Inside there was a haze in the air and a nose-smarting reek of smoke. A man was lying on the deck before compartment 64 A and Rama was bent over him, holding an oxygen mask to his face. Rama was coughing heavily, and his face and hands were smeared with soot. When he came closer Don saw that the prone man was the first engineer.
'Had to... break the door down...' Rama wheezed, between racking coughs. 'Filled with smoke... thought someone might be in there...
'Don't talk any more,' Don ordered. 'Use this oxygen on yourself. I'll take over here.'
Don was afraid. He snapped the strap of the oxygen mask into place, then used his thumb to pull back the lid of one of Holtzs closed eyes. Bad. He took the man's pulse with one hand while he rummaged in the emergency medical kit with the other. He found the syrette he wanted, pressed it to the side of the engineers neck and triggered the injection. Rama was watching, and he took the oxygen mask from his face long enough to speak.
'That was a shot of Alkavervir,' he said. 'A cardiovascular stimulant. That means he has...'
'Heart trouble. Right. Not many people knew about it. That's why he is retiring after this trip.'
'How is he?'
'Not good. This is the worst kind of thing that could have happened to him. Was there anyone in the compartment?'
'No. No one that we could see. Then the smoke got to us.'
A crewman came out of the compartment door with a heavy-duty fire-extinguisher, the nozzle still slowly burbling foam.
'In the green, sir. The fires out.'
Don stood and looked in at the ruins of the cabin. The walls were scorched and streaked with smoke, and foam was everywhere. Two sodden heaps of charred debris were on the floor.
'How could it possibly burn?' Don asked. 'I thought these ships were virtually fireproof.'
'They are. But the luggage wasn't. Two suitcases, clothes and contents burned up.'
'Do you have any idea how it started?'
The crewman hesitated, then held out his hand. 'I don't want to make any charges, Captain, but I found this on the table.'
In his hand was a sodden package of cigarettes. Don looked at them in silence for a moment, his jaw tightening.
'Take them to Chief Kurikka and give him a complete report about what happened here' Don said. 'But call him in control first and have him get two men here with a stretcher at once.'
'Doctor,' Rama called out. 'Come quickly. I think his pulse is getting irregular.'
Don took one look and shouted to the crewman. 'Hold that call. Help us. We have to get this man to the sick bay at once.'
First Engineer Carl Holtz was no longer a young man, and his heart trouble had been coming on for years. He responded well to the medication and treatment, but the sick bay, though well-equipped, lacked some things that were commonplace in a planet-based hospital. There was no heart-lung machine for one thing. And of course no surgical team to stand by in case a transplant might be called for. But Don did his best with what he had. Rama Kusum, despite his protests, was put to bed himself because of the smoke poisoning. Four beds of the small ward were now occupied.
Two hours later Don called the control-room for a report: he was a doctor, but was commanding officer of the spaceship as well.
'All localized,' Kurikka reported. 'No other fires, no other smoke damage outside of that compartment.'
'What about our oxygen?'
'Down some, but nothing major. At the moment. I poked through the mess and found that there was a burnt cigarette in it. Looks like it fell out of the ashtray and set the luggage on fire.'
Don thought a moment. 'Is there a brig on this ship?' he asked.
Kurikka's eyes opened wider at the question, but his answer was crisply exact.
'In a manner of speaking, Captain. Compartment 84B can be locked from the outside and not opened from the inside. Its been used as a brig before.'
'Fine. I want you to find the occupant of that burned compartment and lock him or her up. These people must be made to understand how serious our situation is. If whoever it was had not disobeyed the order about smoking this would never have happened.'
'Well, sir, if you knew who the occupant was...'
'I couldn't care less! That was an order, Chief.'
'Immediate action will be taken, sir. Could I ask - how is Commander Holtz? I heard he breathed a lot of that smoke.'
Don looked up at the figure on the bed across the room.
'First Engineer Holtz is dead,' he said. 'Keep that information to yourself for the moment. I don't wish it to be common knowledge yet that we have lost our only remaining engineering officer.'
The effects of the stimulants were wearing off and Don was exhausted and grim. He certainly had reason to be. He looked around the wardroom, at the faces of the worried men, and if he hadn't been so depressed he might have laughed. The officers of the interplanetary spacer, Johannes Kepler, left a certain amount to be desired.