There was a slight hesitation. The glowing blue doors opened a crack and then shut again, hesitated, and then obediently opened up.
The Engine Room was so similar to the sort of thing you'd see in a science fiction film that Nettle felt she knew exactly where she was. Except what was that black, black darkness behind the thick window? There didn't seem to be anything there and yet all the wiring and so forth seemed to be connected to it.
Nettie looked around for the intercom. Her idea had been quite a simple one: if they wanted to communicate with the Captain, and they couldn't get up to the Captain's Bridge to speak to him personally, then she'd telephone him from the Engine Room. There had to be some sort of communication between the Bridge and the engineers.
In the corner there was a small cabinet. Maybe that was it? She opened the doors to reveal two buttons.
One read: 'Bomb Monitor' and the other: 'Press To Arm'. A sudden wave of cold, even colder than the current temperature of the ship, swept through Nettie's body. 'Bomb!?' Was there a bomb on board?
Nettle pressed the button that read 'Bomb Monitor'. A polite voice said: 'Thank you for enquiring about the status of the Mega-Scuttler Corporation's SD-96 Full Force Mega-Scuttler - 'A Bomb To Be Proud Of' - which has been installed, for your convenience, upon this Starship. It is my pleasure to inform you that the Mega-Scuttler is currently not activated. Thank you for showing an interest in bombs.'
'Bit of a relief,' thought Nettle. 'Now where's the intercom?'
What happened next is totally unclear. Certainly Nettle herself had no recollection. She remembered climbing up the ladder next to the armour-plated window. She could recall feeling colder than ever and finding her breathing harder and then feeling a force gripping her... a force pulling her sideways off the ladder... a force so vast that she thought she was being sucked into a Black Hole or something... as she felt herself falling horizontally off the ladder towards whatever it was behind the perspex window... The next thing she knew she was whirling round in blackness - fighting for her life...
11
Dan and Lucy were having trouble.
They had both procured their vouchers and had successfully wheedled an upgrade to Second Class out of the Deskbot, but the trickier negotiation re an upgrade to First Class was proving to be a remarkably harrowing experience.
'You have no Credit Card. You are not members of the Sixty Million Miles Club. You are not even registered Frequent Travellers. This whole discussion is pointless. You will find the Second Class facilities on board this Starship more than adequate for your requirements.'
How could even a robot be so unbelievably, unremittingly snotty, wondered Dan.
'Dan!' said Lucy. 'We're wasting our breath in fact, is it my imagination or is it getting harder to breathe?'
Dan sniffed the air. Lucy was right. It was also getting colder. 'Jesus!' he muttered.
'The air and heating are at normal levels,' announced a Doorbot.
'That's bullshit!' snapped Lucy. 'It's getting colder and it's getting more difficult to breathe!'
'I can assure you that the air supply and the temperature are set to maximum for Super Galactic Traveller Class comfort,' said the Doorbot.
'Are you trying to tell us there are different levels of air supply for the different classes of traveller?' exdaimed Dan.
'Not normally, sir, no,' replied the Doorbot. 'However, should the ship be travelling without First or Second Class passengers, the oxygen and heating will - naturally - be lowered to the comfort requirements of Super Galactic Traveller Class passengers.'
'Jesus!' exclaimed Lucy. You guys are the most cynical bunch I have ever come across!'
'I'm going straight to the Travel Association when I get home!' Dan was not messing about any longer. He was now beginning to sweat with panic despite the cold. 'There isn't enough air to breathe!'
'There is ample air and heat for the Super Galactic Traveller decks, sir, but unfortunately it is getting dispersed over the whole ship.'
Lucy, meanwhile, was back at the Deskbot, hammering on the desk.
'I'm sorry, madam,' the Deskbot was saying, 'but it is company policy to supply First and Second Class air and heat only if there are First and Second Class passengers on board.'
'But we are Second Class passengers now!'
'I have no record of any Second Class passengers on board.'
'But you just gave us an upgrade! We had vouchers!'
'I'm afraid vouchers are not processed until the end of the month. Thank you for your enquiry.' The Deskbot suddenly turned itself off.
'All right... All right...' Dan was trying to work himself round to 'Decisive Mode'. 'It's vital we all stick together. Go and get Nettie, while I try and sort this mess out.'
'But if I go and get Nettie, we won't all be sticking together.' Lucy's rational streak tended to obtrude whenever Dan was in 'Decisive Mode'.
'All right! I'll go and get her.'
'That's the same thing! Anyway, why are you so worried about Nettie?'
'I'm not! I just think we all ought to keep together in case one of us needs help.'
'Like what sort of help do we give if we're all running out of air and freezing to death?'
'All right! Don't go and look for Nettie! But what are we going to do?'
Dan sounded so desperate - so forlorn - and yet, oddly, Lucy preferred it to 'Decisive Mode',
'I'll see if I can find a supply of oxygen. You get us up to First Class!'
'But that's still not "sticking together"!' moaned Dan.
'I never said we should stick together. That was your idea,' said Lucy. Then she put her arms round Dan and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. 'Cheer up, Second Class Traveller! I'm sure we're going to be all right!' And with that she had gone, and Dan suddenly felt terribly alone.
So alone... he felt he could pick his loneliness up in his hands and hug it... but even as he felt this, he realized it wasn't the absence of Lucy that made him feel empty inside. There was something else.
12
Lucy had a good brain even though she had lived all her life in LA. Despite the continual exposure to carbon monoxide and people from the film industry, she had remained smart. She had trained as a lawyer and was well regarded in the firm where she practised. Her speciality was entertainment law, but she still liked to use that brain of her, and here was a good opportunity.
'Where would they keep the oxygen equipment?' She actually said it aloud as she paced round the loggia at the top of the Central Well. 'Got it!' Suddenly she knew exactly where to look. God! It was so great to be bright! She'd always thanked her stars that she hadn't been born a busty bimbo like some people she could think of.
'A department store,' she told herself, 'would have a plan of the store by the elevators... So...' And sure enough there it was! By the elevators - even though this wasn't a department store. She pressed a small button and a large area of the floor lit up displaying the plan of the Starship Titanic. What's more she could zoom in and out with a second control. This was better than anything they had at Macy's.
Lucy slipped on her translatorspecs and read: 'Medical Centre'. That was where she'd find oxygen. And without waiting to take advantage of any of the special offers the plan of the ship assured Second Class Passengers they would be delighted with, she hurried towards the Starship's Medical Centre.