Topic: The Promise

[Hstaphath_XC]

Hsta: Damn, I didn't want surreal.  We have enough of that from Rommie in her last story.

Hmmm... I guess the best way to put it is that the comedic elements came across to me as being amusingly surreal rather than LOL funny.   I hope that makes sense. 

[kadh2000]

No  new part this week. I'm in rewrite.

[Hstaphath_XC]

No  new part this week. I'm in rewrite.

"Very well... but be all the earlier the next day!"   

[kadh2000]

Not My Fault This Time!

Edited for the removal of surreality.  I hope.  There was some content left in since I didn't feel it was that strong.

“Could it mean there is someone else besides us in the facility?” Ryogo asked when they had calmed down.  “If it could really be seven…”

“That’s what it would mean,” Dr. Young agreed. 

The Promise Chapter 3: The Trap


“Don’t you think we should go look for that person?” Ryogo asked.  “I mean they could be in trouble.  We have to help them.”

Kensington looked at him in pity.  “Hang on, buddy.  Calm down.  Remember, it’s only her and the five of us who beamed down.” 

Ryogo gave him an odd look and Kensington looked away in embarrassment.  He turned back to Heaven who continued to work with the controls.  Watching the numbers change was unsettling.  Finally it stopped on the figure which meant six.  He looked to the holographic display.  The light on the second level was moving around slowly.  The five lights on the third level were in one room, unmoving. 

“Perhaps it was because of a malfunctioning sensor,” Heaven offered.  “Would you like me to see what else I can find out?”

“Nah,” Kensington told her.  “Kalashiavu is on the second level and the five of us are here.  So that six is probably right, don’t you think?”  Ryogo still looked worried, so he added.  “Well I figure if we go look around a little more, we’ll find out soon enough.”  The others agreed so he asked, “So do you all want to head to the second floor?”  Despite what he knew, he thought it best they take in the situation with their own eyes.

They climbed to the top of the long emergency stairs together.  They hadn’t found anything else on the third floor.  Nor had they found any routes that looked like they might lead out.  Heaven said there was no schedule for when the communications system would be back online.  Along the way they had looked at the display terminals in the corridors, but they were all inoperable.  Heaven could not find a clear cause for that either.  The one saving grace had been that there were no leaks on that level.

Heaven recommended they spend thirty minutes searching the second level before gathering again.  Kensington then suggested they randomly search some rooms.  Heaven made a holographic schematic appear between her hands.  “Unlike the floor below, all the sensors on this level seem to be functioning normally.  This level appears safer as well.  Pamuya seems to be walking in the vicinity of the elevator.”

“You can tell that now?” Kensington asked.

“Yes,” she said and then added “I will be working from the security office on this floor while monitoring everyone’s activities.  If a problem arises, I will announce it via the intercom and if something happens please contact me immediately.”

“Alright,” Dr. Young agreed.  “Let’s split into pairs again and meet up in the security office in half an hour.”  Heaven closed the display and went into what Kensington guessed was the security room, a little ways down the corridor.  Kensington took out his communicator and tried it again to no avail.  When he looked again, the other three had gone off without him.  Shrugging, he picked a direction and began searching that way.

He aimed for the large room with the attractions on the second level.  The first one he reached was the carousel.  Looking at the sign by the entrance, he tried to guess which alien word meant carousel.  The ride felt a little lonely and spooky it was so empty.  Even the fish themselves looked sad.  He stepped back in sudden shock as the carousel began to turn and a strange melody came from the ride.  It seemed lonely no longer, but all the more spooky. 

Someone snickered from the darkness ahead.  Dr. Young stepped into the light in front of the carousel and hummed along with the music.  “Captain Kensington.  When did you get here?”

“It looks like you’re having a little too much fun here,” he said testily.

“But it is fun,” she replied.  “Doesn’t it make you just a little bit happy?  I’ve always wanted to ride a carousel.”

“Well, just don’t turn it on without warning.  You were wasting energy by turning it on.  What if the power went out because of it?  We have no idea how long this station’s back-up power is good for.” 

She finally tired of the game and sighed.  “Oh Taylor, don’t you know?  All the power in the facility is generated internally.  More than 100 meters below on the sea floor there are thermal vents: basically hot springs.  Utopia takes hot water from there and uses it for steam.  They use steam powered turbines to generate the power here.  It is a closed-cycle plant.  And that’s all memorized from the new tour guide manual.”

“I see,” he said just to get her to stop.  “You asked the hologram already, didn’t you?”

“A tour guide must know these things.  I explain things in that kind of depth and all you can say is I see?”

Perhaps she needed to keep talking even more than he did.  “I’m sorry.  That was a wonderful explanation.  You are a model guide.” 
The music stopped behind her and the carousel coasted to a stop.  They leaned against the fence around the perimeter of the ride. 
“Not much of an archaeological trip, is it?” he asked, serious again.  She nodded.  “Then out of the blue this happens to us.  Pretty rough.”

“Taylor, have you ever been on an archaeological dig?”  He shook his head and she laughed.  “Stuff happens sometimes.” 

He had to admire her cheerful outlook.  His had been forced but her unflagging optimism and energy seemed natural.  “You are tough.    This situation is so depressing and it doesn’t seem to faze you.”

“No.  I’m not really.  It’s just easier.  I said it earlier, didn’t I?  Would you rather I get depressed?”

“I think it’s better to laugh,” he agreed.

“Right.  That’s all we can do.”  Then she laughed again and he forced a smile.  “And you can call me Maryann.”  She stretched against the fence like a cat.  Then she slid down it and hugged her knees.  He sat down next to her.  “To tell you the truth I came on this expedition looking for my father.  He worked in the R&D division of Starfleet.   He was on the design team that designed the computer that the Outrider uses.  I don’t know the details.  They created it when I was a child.  For some reason they did it out in space away from the center of the Federation. 

“One day my mother got news that my father had disappeared.   He just went missing… from a starship.  It was seventeen years ago and I was only ten years old.”

“So you don’t remember him very well?”

“No,” she continued.  “He was almost never home even when he was on Earth.  Mostly I remember him from pictures.   I don’t have any really strong memories of him.  Everything I really know I learned from my mother.”

“Did they ever find out how or why he disappeared?” Kensington asked.

“If I knew that I wouldn’t have been aboard the Outrider.  The only clue I had was that it was out in this part of space.  The ship he was on was out here somewhere when he disappeared.  So I thought if I came out here I might find some clue about what happened to my father.  My mother gave up long ago so I can’t count on her.  She believes he’s dead.”

The word rang heavily in Kensington’s ears.  She was gambling on almost impossible odds.  He didn’t tell her so; she probably already knew that.

“But, you know what?” she asked, suddenly cheery again.  “I believe!  I believe that he is alive somewhere.  He has to be!  He just went missing.  They never found his body.  On a starship that means not dead.  My mom gave the Federation his old research.  I’ve heard its being used to advance computer technology in many areas.  There just has to be a clue out here somewhere.”  There was an edge of desperation in her voice.  They lapsed into silence.  Kensington tried to think of something comforting to say, but no words came. 

Suddenly she stood up.  “I’m kind of in the mood for some music.  Something light and fun if you know what I mean.  So I think I’ll get the fish spinning again.  Taylor, can you finish looking around?  I’ll head back in a few minutes.”  Without waiting for a reply, she darted back into the shadows of the carousel.  A moment later it began to spin again and the eerie music filled the air.

He hurried off.  Along the corridor he chose, he found an open doorway with some sort of land creature, like a bear painted on the wall beside it.  Looking inside, the room was in shambles.  Apparently it had been a store of some type: probably souvenirs.  This would be a good place to bring someone who could read the language, he thought.  There might be something of use in the store. 
To his surprise Ryogo was sitting silently on a bench inside the store.  His eyes were fixed intently on the ground and his hands were rubbing his temples.

“How’s your head?” Kensington asked, even though it was obvious.  Ryogo looked up but didn’t answer.  “What’s wrong?  Did you find something, or did you remember something?”

Again Ryogo hesitated before asking.  “Uh, who are you?” 

It was worse than Kensington had expected.  He introduced himself to his friend.  “Oh is that right?” Ryogo asked.  “This place is?  What am I doing here?”

Kensington sighed and looked around worriedly for anyone else.  He tried to remember what Heaven had said about the kind of amnesia that you had when you forgot what you just had said and done.  Ryogo seemed to move from one topic to the next in turn, forgetting the last.  “This is Utopia, a submarine facility.  Something happened and we’re trapped in here. “  Ryogo looked back at him in horror.  Perhaps explaining it to him hadn’t been a good idea.

“What do you mean trapped?” he asked in panic.

Kensington’s dry humor got the best of him and he said “That’s something I’d like answered myself.”

Ryogo stared at him blankly.  “And… who are you?”

Kensington frowned, unsure what to do.  “Maybe you should start taking notes.  That way you can keep track of names and other things.”

“Maybe I should,” Ryogo agreed.  Kensington looked around the souvenir store until he found the most primitive of writing implements: a pen and some paper.

“Take good notes,” Kensington suggested and handed him the tools.  “Even when you’re eating.  If you remember, you should take a memo of your name too.”

“Thanks,” Ryogo said.  “Can you tell me what year it is?”

“You forgot that too?” Kensington asked, surprised that he was surprised.  “It’s 22…”  He had to stop and think.  He was too used to stardates.  “It’s, uh, 2267.  Take notes!  Write it down.”  Ryogo dutifully wrote it down.  “Why do you want to know the year anyway?”

“I thought that way I’d maybe remember my birthday.” 

“Come to think of it, you don’t know how old you are anymore, do you?” Kensington said the first dumb think that popped out of his mouth.  Ryogo shook his head.   “Well, then:  you man the science station on my ship and this is your first mission.  You’re nineteen.  No, twenty now.  But you’ve got a baby face so you look younger.”

Ryogo stared at him.  “You’ve forgotten your own face?  Come on, let’s find a mirror.”  Ryogo agreed and they started down the corridor toward the security room.  Kensington pitied the young scientist but was relieved that his headache seemed to have faded.  As they walked his mind wandered to consider the holographic person, Heaven.  He wondered if she ever could get tired, even if it was just mentally fatigued.   She was the only one of them who had really been doing brain work.

The door to the security office was closed and Kensington banged on it but there was no answer.  He tried the intercom button but got no answer.  Leaving Ryogo standing outside, he put his shoulder against the door and shoved forcefully.   

The security office was small and dirty.  There was a stale odor to it that years of absence had not dispelled.  One wall was lined with monitors that viewed various locations throughout the facility.  All were stained dark by the residue of some long unused item.  A sign with large lettering was posted along one wall, next to what appeared to be a water dispenser.  It reminded him of the sloppy clubrooms of men’s clubs and Kensington couldn’t help but chuckle.  “Heaven?” he called.  “Hey Heaven, where are you?  I didn’t think you were the type who would run off without telling anyone.”  He stepped further into the room.

From behind a large desk, Heaven shrieked.  The images on all of the monitors flickered off and then back on.  “Taylor, when did you get here?” she asked nervously.  He peered in her direction but the desk blocked his sight of her. 

“So you are here, Heaven.  I thought you’d be all stressed out from the work and situation so I came to take a look.   What are you doing back there?”  He started walking toward her voice.

“Oh, no!  Taylor, no!  Please don’t come back here.  I’m busy right now.”  He couldn’t see her but she sounded embarrassed.   “If you don’t mind, can you wait outside for a little bit?”  She spoke hesitantly.

“Oh, are you changing or something?” he asked.  He couldn’t imagine what a hologram had to be embarrassed about.  “I’m sorry.”

“Uh, no, not exactly, but I suppose it is something like that.  Taylor, you aren’t going to change?  If you don’t mind the employee work outfits, the changing room is directly behind this room.  Just turn on the corner of the corridor and you’ll find it.”

“Nah, I’m alright,” he said, surveying his attire.  “I’m a little damp and uncomfortable but I’m used to it.”

“I see…” she said, disappointed.  “I’m sorry but I’m still working and I need to concentrate.  I’ll be done by the appointed time. “

He shrugged.  “I’m sorry to bother you.  We’ll go look around a little more.  Good luck.”  He waved vaguely in her direction and headed for the exit.  “Hey, it’s not good to stay cooped up in here.  Take a break some time,” he said without looking back.

“Ok, but please do not worry about me.  I like my work.  If I really get into it I can go for days without sleeping.”  That pretty much confirmed to him that a holographic person didn’t get tired.

Ryogo was sitting on the floor outside the door.   “I’m going to look around a little more.  Heaven’s just inside if you need her.  Why don’t you sit here and take it easy?”  The younger man nodded without speaking.  Kensington headed to the next intersection and hung a left.  He saw an open doorway and entered another attraction area.

An unreadable sign was over a large cave-like opening.  He peered in and saw that the ride was some sort of boat ride on a see-through sea creature that reminded him of a jellyfish more than anything else.  He checked the walls and floor for any signs of damage and left after finding none. 

Nearby he found himself at a set of elevators.  Standing in the corridor between the four elevators was Private Kalashiavu.  She had a stern look on her face, as if she could will them into functioning.  “So this is where you were,” he said.  She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment but didn’t reply.  Her eyes returned to their fixed position on the elevators.  “This elevator won’t go to the surface.  Just standing there isn’t going to make an elevator come.” 

He braced himself for an acidic reply.  Very softly, she said “I know that.  I just saw it.”

“Saw what?”  He asked, surprised.   He half expected her to say she had just seen the elevator go up.

“The elevator,” she said, but then went to the nearest doors and pried them apart.  They stopped halfway apart and she looked inside.   “See.  The elevator is stopped down on the third floor.” 

He peeked in timidly.  “Is that the one you and I rode down in?”

“It’s still there from when we escaped,” she answered.  He looked down at the little box in the abyss.  It gave him a good measure of how far apart the levels actually were.  It seemed to be about twenty meters below them.  Suddenly she gave him a light tap on the shoulder and he was briefly assailed by vertigo. 

“Whoa, don’t push!  What do you think would happen if I fell from here?”

She held his shoulder until he steadied himself.  “If you fell, I think that you would die.  Most definitely.”  There was no trace of emotion in her voice. 

“Geez, why do you want to go and try to scare me?”

“You’re just a coward,” she said reprovingly.   He wasn’t sure he could answer, so he remained silent.  She stepped back and he quickly retreated into the middle of the space.  She put her hands on the doors and pushed them back together. 

Wanting to make sure they would stay shut, Kensington tapped the elevator controls a couple of times.  There was no response.  “It doesn’t look like they’re getting any power.”

“Yes,” she agreed.  “And if you had looked up, you would have noticed the elevator shaft is warped.  Even if they were getting power they could not move.  This elevator is useless.”  Silence filled the space between them and ruled for a while.

Kensington studied his enigmatic military escort.  She rarely talked and only said the minimum necessary when she did speak.  He thought maybe she was trying to be careful of him for some reason, but he couldn’t imagine what it could be.  He wanted to know.  “Hey,” he said, “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“It’s got nothing to do with you,” she answered.   That might have been true, he thought, but still…  It’s got nothing to do with me; it’s got something to do with me.

“You know something I don’t?” he asked impulsively. 

“Something?  Like what?”

“Like about this accident.  Something about the reason you’re always quiet.  You did say something when it first happened.”

“Accident?  This wasn’t an accident.  It was planned.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked surprisingly calmly as it all came together for him.

“You’re not surprised?” she asked him in turn, giving him a strange look.  “You feel like something isn’t right, too?”

“Well, maybe I guess,” he said slowly, trying to sort it out as he spoke.  “Like everything is just too neat.  We can’t communicate with the outside and our escape routes are all closed.  But we’ve got power and the ventilation system still works.  It’s almost as if someone trapped us in here on purpose.”

She smiled for the first time he could remember.  “I guess you’re not as dumb as you look.”  It was a very provocative smile. 

“Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said,” she answered.  “You don’t look that smart.”

Kensington controlled his sudden anger and the urge to tell her what he thought of her.  She was the only one of them actually in Starfleet and her military experience seemed might it like be necessary.  Too bad she wasn’t a lieutenant or a captain or something.  Plus, he felt somehow that any outburst would make him look as stupid as her original opinion of him.  He decided to keep his mouth shut while her opinion of him was on the rise. 

“This is a trap,” she stated and her expression returned to normal.  “You probably aren’t going to get out.  No, not just you, but everyone else as well, all four of them.  You’re all the same.”

Now he was really afraid.  “Well, what about you then, Pamuya?” he asked, forgetting to keep it formal between them. 

“I…” she paused then, and looked even more thoughtful than she had when he first saw her.  Then she smiled again.  “Eh, I suppose I could die in a place like this.  It wouldn’t be bad at all, I guess.”  She looked upward.  He followed her gaze to the completely artificial ceiling and found it oppressive.  She laughed again and disappeared down the corridor.  He had no desire at all to follow her after her last remark.

[Hstaphath_XC]

Not My Fault This Time!

As someone that has been married for as many years as you have, you should already be conditioned to know that it is ALWAYS your fault.  So, no more complaining and more writing!   

Much better, by the way.  I am definitely getting pulled more into the story now and am eager to see what happens next.

[kadh2000]

CHAPTER 4: MEDEA IN CRISIS

He waited a few minutes and went on his way.  He found an unlabelled doorway and went in.  It appeared to be a warehouse of some kind.  Surveying it he saw several barrels, a large stack of crates and boxes.  There was a pushcart to move smaller boxes.  A heavy crane was mounted on a track overhead.   A crate was still suspended from it.  The ceiling was covered with pipes and wires.  Somewhere in the room, something was making a hissing noise.  He followed the sound until he found what appeared to be the room’s ventilation device.  It seemed to be on its last legs by the sound of it.  “Is there anybody here?” he yelled out and listened to the echoes of his voice until they faded.

Kensington continued wandering until the corridor widened and ended at an automatic door that opened as he approached.  The purpose of the large room was immediately apparent.  It was the facility’s sickbay: an infirmary.  The beds with their diagnostic panels behind them didn’t seem all that different from the ones on the ship.  Unlike other areas of the facility, there was no debris or trash in this room.  One of the beds had more sophisticated devices over and around it.  Kensington guessed it was the one used for surgery.  Too bad, he thought, that Dr. Young wasn’t a medical doctor.

He looked at the shelves and saw containers of what he assumed were long expired medications.   “Yeah, I don’t think there’s any way out now,” he heard someone say.  He had thought he was used to surprises, but the voice startled him.  “Everybody?  Help?  Did you come to help?”  It sounded like Medea now that he listened to it.  He had no idea who she was talking to and couldn’t really tell where she was.  “But it’s probably impossible.  There is no way out anymore.” 

What was she saying? he wondered.  He hoped something hadn’t happened to her and hurriedly began searching for her.   It was then he noticed a rectangular cutout in the floor.  He peered inside.  A small elevator was stopped below.  There appeared to be another room below the infirmary and Medea was in it.  He found a button on the wall and pushed it.  The elevator came upwards.  As soon as it reached the infirmary level, he jumped in and went down.  There was a room below and its hatch was slightly ajar.  Through it he heard Medea say, “Liar.  Because, because!”

He quickly opened the hatch.  “Who are you talking to?” he asked.  The room was fairly long and narrow.  A single bed occupied the length of one wall.  Medea was sitting on the edge of it and looked up at him in surprise.  She yelped and jumped as if she had been stung.  He gave the room a quick once over, but nothing seemed amiss. 

“Oh, Sir Taylor!”

“Sir Taylor?” he asked.

“Right, you’re my Sir Taylor.”

“I’m your guardian knight now?”

“Yeah, you got it,” she said.  “Since you’re nickname’s Samurai.  So I’m Medea.  You’re Sir Taylor.  It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, but haven’t we known each other for a while now already?”  She just grinned and the two of them took the elevator back to the infirmary.   “Oh, I get it.  Now that I’m Sir Taylor, we need to be introduced again.”  She laughed and nodded.  “So who were you talking to?”

“What?”

“I heard you talking to someone else in the room down there.”

“Nobody was there,” she insisted.  “I was just playing around, Sir Taylor.”

Whatever, he thought.  Clearly she was embarrassed to have been caught expressing her fears and it was best to ignore that until she wanted to talk about them.  Besides, there couldn’t be anyone else around.  They were all accounted for.  “Now, let’s get to the security station and meet up with everyone else.  We’re late.”

Dr. Young was standing guard like a sentry.  “Captain, you’re late,” she pointed out.  “That’s setting a bad example when you’re the one who’s supposed to be in charge.”

He held up his hands and apologized.   “In our situation we have to be punctual,” she reminded him.

“Don’t get so mad,” he told her.  “It’s only two minutes, give or take.”

“That could make all the difference in the world.”

“It’s my fault he was late,” Medea said, coming to his defense. 

“You didn’t get lost or have any problems did you?” asked Dr. Young, suddenly concerned for the younger woman. 

“Nope, I’m fine,” Medea said forcefully.  “We came straight here.”

Heaven looked up from a terminal and smiled.  “Well everyone made it here in one piece.  That should be fine.”

Kensington looked over the others.  “So everyone’s here?  Where’s Kalashiavu?”

The marine stepped from where she had been leaning against a wall.  “I’m here.  If you’ve found out anything new, I’d like to hear about it,” she said.  “Did you?”

“Oh yes,” Heaven agreed.  “First there are a few things I want to review.”  Kensington groaned and Dr. Young shot him a dirty look.  He suppressed a yawn as Heaven began her lecture on the structure of Utopia.  “Utopia has three levels below the ocean’s surface.  There are approximately twenty meters between each floor.  Thus, the third floor is at approximately sixty meters.  The outside pressure at this depth is six atmospheres: five atmospheres of water and one atmosphere of air pressure.  Even if you, hypothetically, got out into the ocean from the third floor, your lungs would be crushed to one-sixth their size and five-sixth’s of your lungs would be flooded.  You would likely die in a matter of minutes.”

Kensington couldn’t stand it.  “I’ve got a question,” he said, to break the monotony.

“Go ahead,” she said.

“Skin divers can dive to thirty meters.  Can’t we just tough out the pressure on the way up?”

“With proper breathing apparatus and pauses along the way, anyone should be able to make about forty meters,” Dr. Young added.  “The Human record is considerably deeper.”

“Without breathing apparatus,” Heaven said, “you can’t stop along the way.  Amateurs might be able to make twenty meters.”

“Wow,” Kensington said.  “Is that right?”  It didn’t sound that hard to swim twenty meters underwater.

“There is one other important thing,” Heaven added.  “Even if you could withstand five atmospheres of water pressure, could you really swim the sixty meters to the surface?”

“Are you making fun of me?” Kensington asked, flexing his muscles in a pretend show of strength.  “I may not look like it, but when I was in Starfleet Academy I swam over two kilometers.”

“Are you talking about swimming on the surface?” she asked.  “Swimming sixty meters across something is nothing like swimming sixty meters up something.  I’m talking about sixty meters in height.”

“The equivalent of a fifteen story building,” Dr. Young provided an example.

Kensington thought about that.  It did sound insane to try it.  From the second level it would be forty meters:  a ten story building.  Even climbing that height would be a bear.  Besides, he asked himself, how would one get outside of Utopia in the first place?  “Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed.  “That’s something that guts alone couldn’t get you through.”

“And the ocean is pitch black,” put in Kalashiavu.  “It would be suicide.”

“That is correct,” stated Heaven.  “There is something else I wanted to say.  It is an announcement.  I am still working to gather information and connect Utopia’s communication channels with the outside.  However, all cable, radio, and network functions are down due to malfunctions, physically severed cables, or flooding.  I cannot provide an estimation of when we will be in touch with the outside.”

“I still get nothing on the communicator,” Kensington mentioned.

“Sonic communication to the outside is also down,” Heaven continued.  “Therefore I have not been able to dispatch a distress signal.  That concludes my report.”  It wasn’t as long as he had feared. 

He consulted the chronometer on the wall.  Two hours more had passed.  He couldn’t imagine why the ship hadn’t already sent down a rescue party.  With the first floor flooded and emergency partitions dropped, no one would be coming from that way.   Perhaps any rescuers could use a shuttlecraft; come through the ocean.  They left the security office and returned to what he was calling the souvenir stand.

Medea challenged him to a game of silly expressions.  Having seen how fragile the girl was right now, Kensington forced himself to agree.  Time after time he tried to maintain his composure, but she always was able to get him to laugh before she broke down.  “It’s something you just have to get used to,” she said.  “I only laugh when I’m happy.”

Dr. Young and Heaven soon came over.  “What kind of game are you playing?” asked Heaven.  “It looks like fun.”

“A staring contest,” Kensington explained the rules.
 
“That seems pretty incredible,” she replied.  She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled.   He was again struck by how real she seemed. 

“Medea’s incredible,” Kensington joked.  “I’m going to have nightmares about this."

 “Hurry up,” Medea urged.  “What are you waiting for?”

“Well, I need a break so I was going to say we need to give our amnesiac friend a title.  He doesn’t really answer to his name and it gives him a headache when he thinks about it too hard.  What do you think?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Ryogo said slowly.

“Kiddo is what we should call him,” Medea said.

“Sure,” Ryogo agreed.

“Too abnormal.  I can’t call him that,” Kensington protested.  “How about John Doe?  It’s not that random.”

“Wouldn’t that be rude to people named John?” Heaven asked.

“No,” Kensington explained.  “When you don’t know a person’s name that’s what you call them.  And since it’s only for a while it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“But we do know his name.  And calling him by another one will just be confusing,” Medea said. 

Kensington sighed.  “How about John Smith?”

“That would surely be rude to people named John,” said Heaven.  “Why don’t I think of something?  How about Melos?”

“For Memory Loss?” asked Dr. Young.  “That’s bad taste.”

“Sorry,” said Heaven.  “I didn’t mean to be so blunt.”

Finally Private Kalashiavu joined the discussion.  “What are you all bickering about?  If you give him a random name it will be a hassle when he reconnects himself with his real one.  Give him a title, not a name.  Since he’s young, go with kid.  It’s how you’ve been addressing him already when you don’t use his name.”

Medea laughed.  “Full circle.”  At her words, the lights flickered off and then came back on.  There was a dull, heavy metallic echo and a slight tremor in the floor.

“What was that?” Kensington asked Heaven.

“It felt like it came from below,” commented Kalashiavu.

“Below?” repeated Dr. Young.  “I wonder what could have happened below.”

“I will investigate,” Heaven said.  She held her hands in front of her to conjure the display.  There was a strong sideways jolt and the holographic image vanished as soon as it appeared.  “It’s alright,” she said.  “The monitor is still online.  I am initiating a scan.  Water has penetrated the store room in sector six of the third floor.”

“It’s flooding?   I didn’t see any signs of that when I inspected it earlier,” Kensington complained.   Suddenly there were three loud booms.  The sound of metal giving way was accompanied by violent shaking.  Scenes from old cinema about luxury liners being swallowed by the ocean flashed across his mind.

“There is damage to the passageways connecting to that sector,” Heaven reported.  “Multiple leak areas, increasing in number.”

“Do you think we should grab something for support?” asked Kalashiavu.

“Yes!” Dr. Young shouted.  “Everyone grab something and steady yourselves!”  Kensington grabbed a nearby pillar.  Medea grabbed it next to him.  Both of them held their breaths.  More explosions sounded.  A huge shockwave reached them.  The entire facility shook.  Kensington thought he would be thrown to the ceiling one second and then thought he would be smashed into the floor the next. 

He decided to focus on something else instead of himself in an attempt to keep calm.  The souvenir shop in front of him trembled and several of the items that hadn’t fallen before fell to the floor and shattered. A pile of cans clattered across the floor.  A stuffed figure started beeping after it hit the ground.

He steadied himself against the shaking.  All he could do was endure it.   No one said anything.  He could hear the squeal of metal twisting.  More booming sounds followed.  Finally they began to recede and the vibrations subsided.  “The second wave of flooding has finished,” Heaven announced.

Warily, they headed downstairs.  The stairs were wet and slippery and they descended carefully.  The scent of seawater grew stronger.  When they arrived on the third level, the water in the corridors was up to Kensington’s shin.  He estimated it at fifteen centimeters deep.  “Can Utopia pump this much water out?” Dr. Young asked.

“It appears not,” Heaven replied.  It was the first time he could recall her answer being so vague.  “All major areas where leaking has occurred have been closed off by shutting a partition,” she continued.  “However, water is continuing to flow in through small ducts even now.  The pumps are operating at full capacity, but that is not enough to make the water recede.”

“The big hole will have to be plugged,” Kensington said with a grimace.  “Is that what you were going to say?”

“With the partitions blocking off the area of the original leak, there is no way to reach it,” said Dr. Young in alarm. 

“Yes, that is so,” Heaven agreed. 

Following her, they made their way to the central control room.  There she checked the damage.  “I must sincerely apologize,” she began.  “Even though this latest flooding was about to occur, I failed to notice and warn you.”  She looked deeply apologetic. 

“Hey, everybody makes mistakes,” Kensington blurted.  “I may have even overlooked this when I was checking the around a little bit ago.  We’re all in this together.  Everyone is fine, so let’s just consider ourselves lucky.”

“I am really sorry,” she replied anyway.  She looked back at the monitors.  “Thank you for being so kind Taylor.” 

He shrugged.  “It’s nothing.”  Embarrassed, he scratched the tip of his nose. 

After a while she stopped using the control room devices and stood up.  “I have gauged our situation.  I will now display it.  Everyone please do not be shocked or let this get you down.”

“Heaven,” said Dr. Young, hands on her hips.  “When you say it like that it makes us nervous.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“That’s ok,” replied Dr. Young.  “I’m fairly confident there are few things that will shock me.”

“I see,” said Heaven.  Taylor had to agree that everyone was probably pretty numbed by what they had experienced so far.  “In that case… Simply put, the cause of the second influx of water that we experienced a short while ago:  the sectors that were able to avoid damage during the first flooding were isolated from the flooded sections and forced ventilation created a sudden reduction in air pressure.  However, the inundated sectors were not able to withstand the weight of the water and tilted, causing a rupture of the joint in the adjacent sector.  The gap in the internal and external water pressure caused seawater to be sucked into the complex through the rupture.  Many of the sectors that were stable until that moment were instantly flooded. “

She indicated the holographic display in the center of the room.  A top down view of one of the levels appeared.  Nearly half of it was the same color as the ocean.  “This is the current situation of the third level.  The blinking area is the central control room. ” The display shifted.  “This is the status of the second level.”  Over half of it was flooded. 

“You’re serious?” Kensington said in disbelief.

“Half of it is underwater?” Dr. Young gasped.

“There are three sections on the third level that are not flooded,” Heaven continued.  “The center of the largest dry area is where we are: sector eight.

“The map shows only two sections,” Ryoko interrupted.  “Where’s the third?” 

“Due to a flaw in the system, a detailed map of that section cannot be displayed,” Heaven explained.  “This area here, a portion of sector four, is stable.”  She indicated an area diagonally above them on the map. 

“There’s no way to get there?” Ryogo asked. 

“Correct,” Heaven agreed.  “It is impossible.  All of the corridors connecting the sectors are submerged.  It’s roughly one hundred meters between the two sectors.  I don’t think there is anyone among you capable of swimming one hundred meters without breathing; therefore I say it is impossible.  Furthermore, even if someone did reach sector four, I don’t think it would improve our situation at all.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Sector four is in the same predicament as sector eight.  All of the emergency stairs are completely flooded.”

“Even going there would be a wasted effort?” asked Kalashiavu.

“That’s correct,” Heaven said. 

“Then there’s nothing we can do,” Ryogo muttered and bowed his head.

“So we should forget about sector four?” Kalashiavu persisted.  Kensington wondered what she was driving at.

“We’ll have to just sit tight and wait for help to come,” he told her.  “For now, I guess we can take it easy.”  He left the room, returned to the food stand, and snagged a drink for everyone.  “All right, I’m going to toss these to everybody.”  He counted them out.  “I’ve only got five.   I’m one short.”

The others laughed.  “I don’t need one,” Heaven said.

“Don’t worry about it.  You can have mine.  I’ll just go get another one.”

She stared at him blankly and then smiled.  “No really.  I’m fine.  I’m not thirsty.”

He passed out the drinks to the others.  Ryogo opened his beverage and liquid spewed everywhere.  The others jumped to get out of the way of the spray.  A blast of liquid got Ryogo right in the face.  “This beverage is very sweet,” he said, tasting the liquid that had landed on his lips.

“Be more careful,” Heaven warned.  “These beverages contain gas so they can be consumed at six atmospheres.   This was mentioned at the surface during decompression.  I do not expect you to have remembered that.”

“I didn’t remember that!” Kensington said with a laugh.  “I guess we will have to remember to tell you these things.”

“Even I didn’t remember until after the fact,” admitted Dr. Young. 

Unlike the rest of them, Medea didn’t seem amused.  She had a slight frown on her face.  Thinking about it, Kensington realized she hadn’t said anything in a while.  “Aren’t you going to have a drink?” he asked her.  “It’s a little warm, but it’s the best I can do.”
“I don’t want it,” she mumbled and grabbed her stomach.  “I don’t feel very good.  I’ve been thinking about it since before and I haven’t been able to think of any jokes.”

“Jokes?” he repeated in confusion.  He peered down at her.  She didn’t look to good.  She was sweating and having hard time breathing.  “Hey, you don’t look good.”

“Taylor, get out of the way,” Dr. Young said urgently.  She rushed over to Medea, pushed Kensington out of the way and put her hands on the girl’s shoulders.  “Do you have a headache?” she asked her.

“A bit,” the girl agreed.  “I feel kind of dizzy.”

“What if you swing your arms around?  Does that hurt?”

The girl tried it.  “Just a little.”  It looked to Kensington like it hurt more than just a little.

 Dr. Young looked up at Heaven, who spoke.  “I suspect it might be decompression sickness due to the sudden loss of pressure on the floor.”

“Yeah,” Dr. Young agreed.

“Let’s get her to the infirmary on the second floor,” Heaven suggested.

“Taylor, you carry her.” Dr. Young ordered.  When he looked blankly back at her, she said “Carry her on your back.  Hurry.  Squat down.”

“Alright, alright,” he agreed.  “You don’t have to scream in my ears.”  They rushed her up to the second level.  With Medea on his back, Dr. Young and Private Kalashiavu supported her from the sides.  Heaven led the way and Ryogo brought up the rear.

They entered the emergency corridors which connected directly to the small elevator below the infirmary.  Heaven directed them to place Medea on the bed in the small room.  “It is a medical compression chamber.  We can treat decompression sickness here.”  They laid her on the bed and Kensington stepped back to be out of the way.

“So what are you going to do?” Kensington asked.

“Nothing,” said Dr. Young.

“What are you talking about?”

“We’ll have her relax in this room for a while. “

“This is hyperbaric oxygen therapy,” Heaven said.  “Allow me to explain.”  Kensington couldn’t decide whether not knowing or listening to a long explanation was better.  “Decompression sickness occurs when there is a sudden change in the surrounding air pressure and gas bubbles that can’t be discharged accrue in the body.  Gas becomes air bubbles and these gather in the tissues or veins.  When gas bubbles remain inside the body, the oxygen respiration efficiency drops dramatically.”

“So it feels like you are suffocating?” he asked.

“That is correct,” she said.  “But also, if any nitrogen which has dissolved in the blood turns to gas it could produce a thrombus or blood clot.  Of course this could hinder blood circulation, which is very dangerous. 

“So we seal this room and pump in a high concentration of oxygen, taking it roughly up to three atmospheres.  Then we slowly decompress you back down to one atmosphere.  Using the difference in pressure we dissolve the gas bubbles in her body back into the blood where she gets rid of them naturally by breathing.”

Kensington nodded in understanding.  Then he raised his own hand slightly.  “That dash up the stairs wore me out.”  He took a heaving breath.

“Taylor, are you in pain at all?” she asked.

“Me?  My muscles feel kind of sore, and I’m a bit sluggish but…”

“Taylor, you should go in the room too,” said Dr. Young.  “In light cases of decompression sickness you’re not necessarily aware of it immediately.”

“After you figure out you’re in trouble, it’s too late?” he said and grinned.

“Yes.  And the symptoms can be drawn out.”

“Yes,” Heaven agreed.  “Just to be on the safe side, I want you all to remain in the room.”

“Uh, I’m leaving,” Kalashiavu said suddenly.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kensington asked angrily.

“There… is a place I just realized I need to go.”

“Where?” He asked.  “This treatment is more urgent than that!”

“I don’t need it.”

“Private!  That’s irresponsible and selfish.”

“I can’t stay cooped up in this cramped place.  I won’t go off escaping alone so just take it easy.”

“That’s not the point,” Kensington reminded her.

“To be blunt,” she replied, “I don’t have the patience for you.  Any of you.”  She ignored his disbelieving stare and went out.  Heaven said later that she was safe and had remained on the same floor.  It was like Kalashiavu to have done that, but it bothered him nonetheless.

Heaven sealed the hatch from outside and was adjusting the pressure as necessary.  “Please remove your voice converters during the process,” she told them.  “They are designed to protect your eardrums from the change in air pressure, however during pressurization they can interfere.”  Kensington had become completely used to the devices.  He removed them and held them in his hands. 

The decompression process took several hours.  Medea took the only bed.  The rest of them sat on the floor next to her.  It was cramped. Kensington felt like a proverbial sardine in a can.  There was nowhere to move.  He vaguely wondered what time it was.  He borrowed a tricorder and checked.  Nearly midnight.  He was sleepy.  Medea was sleeping and her breathing was relaxed.  It looked like she was doing better.  Neither Dr. Young nor Ryogo appeared to be sleeping but they sat with their eyes closed.  Kensington’s eyelids slowly got heavier until he fell asleep.

[Andromeda]

That's odd.  I liked the surreal comic elements.  Of course a smaller dose is better.  I do like the cliffihanger endings to each chapter.  Not that this episode had one, although it did ask a question.  When do we get to find out about Pamuya?

[kadh2000]

Here's the next part of this.  I'm not really happy with the beginning, but I'm tired of trying to fix it.  So here it is...


Kensington awoke with a yawn. 

Trudging back to the control room, he yawned again.  “I’m sleepy.”  The night had been restless in the cramped space.  The sound of his shoes clanking on the staircase echoed loudly.  He tried to stretch out from the night’s discomfort. 

“You slept so heavily,” Dr. Young said.  “How can you be tired?”

“What time do you think it is now?” he asked her. 

She peered at her tricorder.  “0530.”

“That means I slept only four and a half hours,” he said. 

“Only?  You slept more than the rest of us put together,” she exclaimed loudly.  “Given our situation I don’t see how you could have slept at all.”

“It’s because that’s the kind of situation where you’ve got to sleep.  Our minds have to be sharp.  We have to be ready for anything.”  He was determined to be a more commanding figure.

“So your mind is sharp right now?” she asked dubiously.

He backed off his firm statement.  “Well, I’m a bit sleep-deprived so not all my phasers are firing.  I think I’m doing at least as good as the next guy.”  He stopped suddenly, realizing she was no longer standing next to him.   Looking back, he saw Medea and Ryogo disappearing down a side passage.  He hurried after the three of them.

“So, how is sleeping beauty?” Dr. Young asked sarcastically when he caught up.

“I told you I wasn’t running at full power.” 

She let out an exasperated sigh and shrugged her shoulders.  She lifted one eyebrow, reminding him of more than a few Vulcans.  “Taylor…  I think you had better take a look in a mirror.”  He gaped at her.  “You had really better wash your face,” she continued.  “I’m afraid you got something on it during the night.”

Deciding there was no point to the strange conversation; he continued on toward the emergency stairs and led them toward the central control room.  He was pleased to see that no one was complaining about feeling bad after the decompression process.  Even Medea was her usual sunny self.  When they reached the main floor they stepped again into the wet corridors.  It was an unpleasant reminder to him of their dire situation and even Dr. Young fell silent, but it didn’t seem to bother the girl.

Kensington slowed his pace to drop back with Ryugo.  “Do you have any idea what Dr. Young’s all miffed about?”

He grinned.  “Who knows?”

“Hey, what are you laughing about?  Do you know something that I don’t?”

“It was an accident.”  Ryogo informed him.  “In your sleep, you knocked over a bottle of iodine or something and it got all over your face.  We did our best to wipe it off, but there was no water.”

Kensington shook his head.  “Dr. Young told me to look in the mirror, but …” 

Ryogo smiled strangely.  “Like I said.  It was an accident.”

It finally hit Kensington.  Something had spilled on his face while he was asleep.  He wiped the palm of his hand across his face.  It came away stained brown.  “What’s this?,” he said, gaping.  He lifted his shirt and started wiping it against his face, but not much ink came off.   

Ryogo shrugged.  “I told you that you spilled something.  There’s a bathroom over there,” he said, pointing.

Kensington entered the small room.  It seemed to be for employees by its size.  There was only a single sink and the faucet was broken.  Water flowed from it onto the floor.  He hurriedly washed his hands and face.  The mirror was shattered and not much help.  Most of the ink came off of his hands so he assumed he had done as well on his face.  “That girl…” he muttered.

He raced after the other three until he caught up with Dr. Young.  “Hey Maryann, why didn’t you wake me up?”  She looked at him blankly.  “While I was asleep, after that stuff got spilled on my face?”

“Spilled?” she asked, gaping at his face in mock surprise.  “What could this guy be talking about?  He’s probably still asleep and dreaming.”  She rolled her eyes.  “We tried, but you sleep very heavily.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Maryann,” he said.  Part of him wondered if he was still asleep.  “You were talking about looking in a mirror. “

“Oh was I?  A mirror?  Yes, I was trying to be helpful.”

“I knew it.”  He had wonder if he was making any sense yet or if now he was only making it worse. 

“Are you sure your brain isn’t playing tricks on you?  I’m pretty sure you’re still asleep and dreaming.  You’re not making sense.”

He almost believed he was still asleep.  “Then what’s this?”  He showed her his ink-stained shirt.

“I see it.  I told you to wash up.” She mumbled so he stepped closer to hear her.  He was beginning to feel awake.  “Well…” and then she grabbed his hand and stared intently at the palm.   “Oh, you’re palm has an interesting future in store for you.”

“Palm reading?” he asked, trying not to let her distract him again.  “Is that what you’re into now?”

“Your palm tells me that you fate diverges into two distinctly different futures,” she continued.  “An all-or-nothing type outcome.   You will either acquire or lose everything.  One path will put you on the road to riches, success in business, an encounter with a beautiful woman, and bless you with a happy home and strong offspring. ”  She had him hooked.  “And you will be as healthy as possible.  You will live to a ripe old age that will make those around you jealous.

“However… However if you take the other path you will be in dire straits.”

“Dire straits?” he echoed. 

“Yes,” she said, shaking her head sadly, “but I can tell you no more.  You should take a good look at the middle of your lifeline because that is where the answer can be found.”  He looked down at his hand in alarm. 

He stared at the spots of black ink in the middle of his palm and looked back up at her.  She smiled and slipped through the door to the central control room.   “I don’t believe this,” he bellowed and followed her in.

Private Kalashiavu was already there.  She was leaning against a wall with her arms folded in front of her and her face down.  He wondered where she had gone the evening before.  Deciding the direct approach would only meet with being rebuffed, he showered her with the cheeriest greeting he could muster.  “Good morning!  How are you feeling?  If you aren’t feeling good, you should probably go into the decompression chamber.”  She didn’t budge.  Her mouth opened halfway and she blinked at him twice. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked.  “You tired?  Low blood pressure?  Well, I didn’t exactly sleep well either.  That damn room was so small I ended up sitting on the floor all night.”  He yawned and rubbed his eyes with both hands.  “And that ink spill.”

Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits and she leveled a steely glare on him.  She made a good marine.  It was the kind of look that could kill.  “You… are the absolute worst.”  She shook her head as if she were fed up with him and vanished from the room.

Absolute worst, he wondered.  “Wait a second!” he called out and started after her. 

“Taylor,” Heaven said, suddenly beside him.  “What are you doing there?  Please come back inside.”  He started to protest, but she urged him in.  The expression on her face was more stressed than the day before.  It seemed as if something serious was unfolding.

Once he came inside, she said “I’m sorry to have to gather you all here.  There was no other way.  Everyone there is something I need to tell you right away.”  She paused for a second and looked over the assembled landing party.  It was then he noticed with a start that Private Kalashiavu had rejoined them.  A fan whirred in the silence.   A faint sound of metal on metal rang through the room.  They waited on her next words.

“Last night after the four of you, apart from Pamuya, entered the pressurization chamber,   I was in here thinking of ways to escape or contact the outside, and while I was checking the internal status of Utopia I discovered something.”

“You found a way to escape?” Dr. Young asked hopefully.

“No,” Heaven shook her head.

“Then a way to contact the outside?”

“Not yet,” she said. 

“Then what did you figure out?”

“Actually, I determined what the bulkheads can withstand.  I found their limits.”  She turned her eyes to one of the consoles.  The three dimensional image of the facility sprang up. 

“The pressure bulkheads?  You found the limits?” Medea said warily.  The girl grabbed Dr. Young’s arm tightly. 

“The partitions between the outer seawater and the inner air,” Heaven replied.  “As I said yesterday, Utopia is constructed to a saturation diving specification design.  The internal air pressure equals or exceeds the external water pressure.    Since the internal air pressure is currently at one atmosphere the outer shell is being continuously subjected to severe water pressure.  Utopia is not constructed to endure this type of pressure for an extended period of time.  Inevitably it will at some point reach its limit.  According to the computer’s calculations, that will be in 119 hours from now.”

“119 hours…” Private Kalashiavu breathed out.  “Five days.”

“The estimated time of implosion is on the seventh day at 0430.”  Heaven continued, “Of course it is only a calculation and there is a margin for error of plus or minus twelve hours.”  Everyone became silent, lost in thought.  Heaven had made the magnitude of the crisis clear.  Kensington still wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but he knew he had to say something.  He couldn’t decide if five days was a long time or a short one.  They didn’t have a schedule but he hoped they would be gone long before five days was up.  A rescue team should already be on its way. 

“What does all this mean?” Medea asked, still holding onto Dr. Young.  “Does it mean that in five days at four-thirty in the morning Utopia will get flattened like a pancake?  But it might happen the evening before, in four and a half days, or the evening after in five and a half days?”  Heaven nodded in agreement. 

“Wait a minute,” Kensington interrupted.  “That also means the opposite is true.   At the worst, we have four and a half days.  So we’re fine until then.  There’s nothing to worry about. Right?”

“We can’t be absolutely certain,” Heaven replied, “that we will be safe, but judging from the results of the computer’s calculations that would appear to be the case.” 

Kensington smiled.  “Good.  When you looked so serious, it made Medea scared.  So if you had said we only had one more day, she would have reason to be afraid.  Since we still have lots of time, someone from the ship will come to help us before that.”  He could see the others nodding agreement.  The tension in the air gave way and smiles returned to the faces around the room.  Even Pamuya, who never smiled, looked relieved.  Kensington yawned.

It was Kalashiavu who led them to the food stand.  However, it was Kensington who got the job of chef.  Heaven’s translation of the meat he found in one of the freezers was ‘chicken’, so he started with that.  At one point or another he had held every job on a freighter, so cook didn’t seem so strange.  Six ‘chicken’ sandwiches later, he served their first real meal since being trapped.  His way of calling them to breakfast was “Why is it that I have to make breakfast for everyone?”  He took the tray full of food and made his way out the narrow door of the stand. 

“That’s the way it goes,” Dr. Young teased.  “We decided it democratically, you know.”  She was waiting by the entrance and snatched the first sandwich from the tray.  She peeled back the wrapping he had placed around it and opened her mouth.

“Democracy is overrated,” he muttered.  “Besides, I’m the captain.”  She mumbled something as she munched the sandwich. 

“We’re not on the ship.  It’s just a reflection of the majority of the people’s will,” she said when her mouth was again empty.  It was true the vote had been one-sided and he had been appointed chef.  He really didn’t mind.

“I know that you’re the one in the shadows running this conspiracy,” he accused her, grinning.

“I wouldn’t do that!”  The food was definitely improving everyone’s spirits.  “I’m pretty sure it’s just because everyone sincerely thought that you would be the best cook.”  She laughed.  “Thank you for the sandwich.”

“That was fast!” he said, looking at her empty hands.

“I’ll have another, please.” 

He slapped away her outstretched arm.  “I’ve only made one for each person.  If you want another one, you have to make it.”  She pointed out that he had made one for Heaven and she definitely wouldn’t need it.  Defeated by her logic, he handed it over and quickly got away from her.

He took the remaining four sandwiches to the rest area to hand them out.  “Breakfast is ready!” he hollered.  “Come and get it!”  He sat the tray on a bench and picked up his own sandwich. 

Medea was first to arrive.  “Food, glorious food,” she said appreciatively.

Ryogo was suddenly standing beside him.  “This looks good.”

“Where are Kalashiavu and Heaven?” Kensington asked, not seeing the other two.

“Heaven went back to the control room,” Ryogo revealed.  “She said there was still stuff she had to look into.”  Kensington frowned slightly.  “I think Pamuya just took off a moment ago.”  Kensington shrugged at the news.

He looked over at the one remaining sandwich and decided it would be best to bring it to her.  If either of these two acted like Dr. Young, the marine would never get fed.  He chose a random corridor and called out her name occasionally as he wandered.  She wasn’t the type to answer, but he did find her at the dead end of the corridor he had selected.  “Oh, there you are.  I made breakfast.  What are you doing here?”

She was looking at a sealed hatch.  More of the strange lettering was written above it.  It seemed to have a keypad lock beside it.  She wasn’t really doing anything, just staring at it.  “Nothing,” she said.  “It’s none of your business.”

He was beginning to get fed up with her.  “None of my business?  Sure.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked him.  He snorted and offered her a sandwich.  She sniffed it doubtfully.  “What is this?”

“Breakfast,” he answered.  He didn’t feel like giving Heaven’s explanation to her.  When she didn’t immediately unwrap it, he asked “You’re not going to eat?”  She tilted her head a little and stared at the sandwich.    “If you’re not going to eat it, Dr. Young gladly will…”

“I didn’t say I don’t want it,” she replied finally and began to open it indifferently.

“Good.  I went to a lot of pain to make that. If you said you didn’t want it, I don’t know what I’d…”  She started past him without listening.  “Hey, hold on a second.”  He grabbed her shoulder.  “You should at least say thanks.” 

She didn’t try to turn around; just shook his hand effortlessly off her shoulder and let go an annoyed sigh.  “Don’t… touch me.”  Her voice was very low.  He looked at his shrugged off hand, floating in the air with nowhere to go.  Her muscles had been very firm under his touch.  “Don’t… touch me,” she repeated.   Silently she walked away from him down the water covered floor of the corridor.  Rings rippled out from where her feet stepped as she walked away.

Just then the lights in the corridor began to flicker uneasily.  Kensington glanced up at the ceiling.  A dull growling sound shook the floor.  “What’s happening?” he called out in fear.  “It couldn’t be!”  Tiny waves formed in the water pooled on the floor.  The walls and ceiling trembled slightly.  Metal screeched on metal.  He could see Private Kalashiavu’s back down the corridor.  The lights clicked and flickered.  She turned to look back at him.  He thought she was going to speak.

Darkness blanketed them.  The vibrations and sounds died away.  Only an eerie silence enveloped them.  The emergency lights flickered on and shone weakly.  “A blackout?” Kensington asked.  He kicked up water as he ran to catch the marine.  “Pamuya!  It’s a blackout.  A blackout!”

“I know,” she said calmly. 

“What should we do?”

She looked at him crossly.  “Why are you asking me?”

“Oh yeah, right, I’m the captain,” he said, coming to his senses.  He paused for a moment.  “So, what should we do?  Right.  First we should go to where everyone is.”  They hurried back to the food kiosk.  No one was there.  Nor was anyone in the rest area nearby.  Because of the dim lighting, he couldn’t see into the corners of the room to be sure, but it appeared empty.  He called out there names, but there was no response.  The echoes of his voice were swallowed and vanished into the darkness.  “Where could they have gone?”

His eyes stopped on the bench nearby.  One of the chicken sandwiches was still sitting there.  A new sound startled him.  Unfazed by the emergency, Kalashiavu was stuffing her face with the sandwich he had given her.  She handed him the balled up wrapper.  “This needs to be thrown away,” she said.  Then she left the room.

He shook his head in disbelief, dropped the wrapper on the tray and hurried after her.  She went to the control room, where they found Dr. Young, Ryogo, and Medea.   “Captain!” Dr. Young called out in a worried voice.  The two of them splashed their way through the water to join the other three. 

“Have you seen Heaven?” Ryogo asked. 

Kensington shook his head.  “Wasn’t she in the control room?”

“It’s empty now,” Dr. Young reported.  “Besides, as long as the power is out I don’t think we’ll see Heaven.” 

“Oh.  Right.”  Kensington tried the button, but the automatic control for the room was lifeless.  “Can we open this room without power?”

“There’s an emergency mechanism near the bottom of the hatch,” Dr. Young said.  “That’s how we got in.”

Kensington used it to pull the door to one side.  It opened just wide enough that he could squeeze through.  He peeked inside but it was pitch black and he couldn’t see a thing.   “Do you want a torch?” Ryogo asked and passed him a small flashlight.”  Taking it, he stepped into the room.  He swung the circle of light left and right and into the corners of the room.  The power was completely down.  Like an abandoned castle, there was no sign of warmth left. 

He stepped back out.  “Well, what should we do?” he asked as calmly as he could.  It had been one crisis after another since the day before.  He guessed they were used to the situation because none of them lost it. 

“I can’t believe this happened.” Dr. Young sighed. 

Then Kensington noticed she was dressed differently.  “When did you change clothes?”

“This?  Oh, I spilled sauce from the sandwich all over my outfit from the ship.  There was a changing room, I guess, and it was full of clothes so I put this on.”  She was wearing a pink blouse with a light red jacket over it and a pale yellow skirt with lace trim.  It struck Kensington as odd to find something so familiar in such a strange place.

“I see,” he said absently.  “Pretty clumsy of you.”  She laughed with mock humor and scratched her head.  “Anyway we should be thinking about what to do now.”

“Why don’t we split up and see if we can figure out what happened,” Medea suggested.  “Without Heaven we will have to find out what happened by ourselves.”

Kensington nodded.  “Alright.  Let’s do that.   Why don’t Maryann and Ryogo check out this level.  The other three of us will hit the second floor.”  The others agreed and they headed off.

Once Pamuya, Medea, and he reached the second floor they split up once again to cover more ground quickly.  Between the three of them, they checked the elevator room, the infirmary, a changing room, the security office, some of the attractions but found nothing.  They were to regroup in front of the infirmary.  Medea was already there when he arrived, waving a flashlight frantically and calling out for him.  “Any luck?” he asked, hurrying up to her. 

She shook her head and made a big ‘X’ on the floor with the beam.  “How about you?”

“There’s nothing wrong on this floor,” he reported.  “What about… Pamuya?”

“She just passed by in front of me,” Medea said. 

“Passed by?” he repeated.  “I thought we were going to meet here.”

Medea pointed down a corridor.  “She went that way, toward the neutral buoyancy elevators.  She was carrying something big. ”

Something big, he thought.  It sounded like she was up to a solo enterprise again.  If they ever made it back to the ship, he was definitely going to report her to Starfleet.  “Let’s go check it out.”  They proceeded down the same corridor.  Ahead in the pitch dark, they could hear someone rustling around. 

“Pamuya?” Medea called out and shined her light into the shadows.

The light caught the marine in the face.  “That’s bright,” she said, raising up a hand to shield her eyes and wincing.  She stood up from where she had been kneeling on the floor.  Medea turned off the light and rushed over to her.  Kensington followed. 

“What are you doing here?” Medea asked, beating him to the question.  Pamuya made some snorting noise.  “I don’t understand what you mean by that,” Medea said.  “What were you doing?”

“Looking into something,” Kalashiavu said noncommittally. 

Medea refused to be put off.  “What?”

“This elevator.”

“What do you need this big thing to investigate that for?” Medea asked, indicating the large case nearby.  Kensington thought he had seen something like it before in the warehouse. 

“Oh, I’m going to need that later,” Kalashiavu answered.  “Right now I’m just checking the status of the elevator: whether it’ll move, or if the doors can be opened manually.”  Kensington resolved to have Medea ask her any questions he had.  She was much nicer to the girl than to him.  Perhaps Medea’s unique personality kept even Kalashiavu off balance, he thought. 

“So how about it?  Does it look like the elevator will move?” Medea asked.

“Maybe.”  Kensington held back a laugh.  Kalashiavu glanced up at him accusingly. 

“What good would using the elevator do you?” Medea persisted. 

“I thought we’d go down to the third floor,” Kalashiavu said thoughtfully, again looking at Kensington. 

“Can’t we just use the stairs like we always do?”

“Those stairs won’t get us to where we need to go.”  Finally, she was coming to her point.  “They won’t give us access to the generator room.”  Kensington remembered his earlier lecture about Utopia having an in-house generator system.  “It’s a pain with the power off.  I’ll make repairs.  I think the cause of the blackout is the generator.”

“Oh, I see,” Medea said and smiled happily.  “So this big box is full of tools?”  Pamuya nodded.  “Then it all makes sense.”  The marine looked relieved to be finally freed from the barrage of questions. 

“Alright,” Kalashiavu said.  “I’m going down.  Taylor, could you come along?”  It quite surprised Kensington that she wanted him along.  Besides, it was the first time she had used his name. 

“First, there’s one thing I want to ask you,” he said.  “The emergency stairs won’t get us to the generator room, so how do you know it’s here?”

“The map.”  He put his hands to his temples.  Sometimes he felt really stupid around her.  “The third level was divided into two sections:  the section we were in and a smaller section.  Remember?”

He hadn’t really paid attention to the smaller area since Heaven had said it was unreachable.  “Maybe.”

“And what is between the two sections?” she asked slowly.

“Between them?  How am I supposed to know?  There wasn’t anything there.”

“Exactly,” she said.  “Which means?”

“Yeah yeah.  The two areas are divided by a block that is now under water.”

“Which means?”

“I get it already.  We can’t move directly from the central control room to the generator room.”

“So?”

“So, we have to go to the second floor above the generator room and take this elevator down.”

“Could you help me out?” she asked again.

“Do you think it’s a good idea?  We haven’t consulted the others.  And we don’t really know if the blackout is caused by the generator.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment.  “I don’t think that’d do any good.  We need the control room computer.  So the only thing we can do is go check out the generator, right?”

“Well, I suppose so,” he admitted.  “But…”

She smiled at him alarmingly.  “So what are you going to do?  Will you come along? ” She put her hands together.  “Taylor, I really need you.”  The words shocked him.  For a second he thought his heart had skipped a beat and he couldn’t say why.  ‘I really need you’ were not words he had ever expected to hear from Kalashiavu.  She stared straight at him.  Her intense gaze made him uncomfortable.  “Please…” she said. 

[kadh2000]

Given that I don't really like the first part of chapter 5, some help in making it better would be greatly appreciated.

[CaptJosh]

This whole thing strikes me as some sort of bizzare psych experiment. And what's with the jarhead going from despising all of them, most especially the ship's captain, to suddenly needing the captain, and sounding like it's more help out of her clothes that she wants than any help with the generator?

[kadh2000]

This whole thing strikes me as some sort of bizzare psych experiment. And what's with the jarhead going from despising all of them, most especially the ship's captain, to suddenly needing the captain, and sounding like it's more help out of her clothes that she wants than any help with the generator?

Heh.  Interesting analysis.  As for the jarhead... that's in the next post.

[Hstaphath_XC]

Heh.  Interesting analysis.  As for the jarhead... that's in the next post.

Indeed, when a woman changes her tone in such a manner with me... I know to just go ahead and get out my weapon and shoot myself in the head.   

[kadh2000]

[kadh2000]

Finally, the next bit.  A character study of Pamuya Kalashiavu.  BTW, that's a Hopi Indian name if anyone's curious.  Not that it matters for the story.  Anyway, this follows immediately on the last chapter.  So reread the last paragraph or two of it. 

CHAPTER 6: POWER AND FRAILTY

He gulped.  "A-alright.  I'll go with you."  He stared back into her wide eyes and couldn't think of saying anything else.  She nodded.

"What about me?" Medea intruded.

"I've got another job I want you to do," Kalashiavu told her.  "I want you to tell the others what I just told you two.  That Taylor and I are going to the generator room."

"Roger, mark and move," Medea agreed in ersatz military lingo.  She clicked her heels together and gave an imitation salute and departed. 

Taylor followed Kalashiavu into the neutral buoyancy elevator.  A ballast tank, to take in or release sea water as necessary, was attached to the floor.  Once they were both inside, she sealed the watertight doors.  Then she pulled the lever to release the clamps.  The elevator didn’t move.  "What's going on?" he asked.  "We're not sinking at all."

"Doesn't look like it, does it," she replied nonchalantly.  She bent down and opened the toolbox she had brought with her.  He could only guess at the functions of the tools by their shapes, but she seemed to know what she was doing.  Eventually she closed it and frowned.

"What are you going to do with that?" he asked when she stood back up.  She was holding her hand phaser.

"If it won't sink," she said and grinned maliciously, "then we'll just have to sink it."  She adjusted the setting on the weapon and pointed it at the glass wall of the elevator.  It hissed to life in the quiet room.  A thin blue-gold beam erupted from it and quickly cut a small opening in the wall.

"What?  Pamuya, are you crazy?"  She didn't answer but grinned triumphantly.  Seawater spurted in through the coin-sized opening with tremendous force.  "You idiot!  Idiot!  Idiooot!  You made a hole in the elevator."

She smiled faintly.  "Yes."  She was as calm as ever and quietly reattached the phaser to her belt.  A cold mist filled the elevator.  She licked a droplet from her lips.

"You are crazy," he groaned.  "Being cooped up here has made you crazy."

She just snickered.  The water continued to pour in, pooling in the bottom of the elevator.  He watched as it covered his ankles, his shins, his knees, and up to his thighs.   It was unpleasantly cold so he ducked beneath the surface to get used to it more quickly.  When he surfaced, she was looking away from him.  One eye glared sharply at him. 

There was a sudden jolt and the elevator began to move.  Ever so slowly, it began to inch downward.  The blue water became gradually darker and the steel bulkhead moved further away.  The incoming water poured in more forcefully as the elevator sank and the speed of their descent increased.  Looking downward, Taylor could not see the lower level.  The water level had already reached his chest.  He kicked upward and grabbed the ceiling of the elevator.  "This is pretty dangerous," he muttered.  The strained smile that appeared on her face showed that she wasn't certain of the outcome either.  "I wonder if we'll die like this," he added.

"Maybe."

"No.  Not 'maybe.'  This harebrained idea was all your…" The water level had risen to the point where he could no longer speak.  He lifted his chin and clung to the ceiling.  He looked sideways and saw Kalashiavu struggling to stay above the water.  A strong shock shook the elevator.  We made it to the third floor was all he could think. 

He wasn't sure if she had panicked or not, but Kalashiavu was thrashing her arms and legs desperately.  He pinned her shoulder and felt her relax against him.  Holding her, he kicked against the wall and toward the door.  He tried to turn the handle, but it wouldn't move.  It was difficult to gain traction because he was floating.  He braced his feet against the handrail and turned the handle. The water pressure felt heavy against his eardrums and his body was screaming for oxygen. 

Finally the door opened.  The two of them and the mass of water were spit out onto the hard floor.  There was no time to catch his breath.  Seawater was pouring in more ferociously than ever.  He forced himself to get up and rushed to the watertight door.  He was able to close both the elevator and station doors and then collapsed.

He was unable to move and she too lay sprawled upon the floor.  Seeing her helpless like that, he couldn't feel angry with her.  Relief at being alive was his dominant emotion.  "That was such a stupid thing to do," he growled.  "What if we had really died?"

She pushed herself up on her elbows and coughed.  She was looking down and didn't try to look at him.  He hoped that she was reflecting on what she had done.  He decided that she just wasn't a people person and had a hard time relating with others.  She seemed very fragile, and lonely.  It was the first time he had realized there was anything weak about her.  Alone in the midst of that sprawling floor, she looked so small, like a newborn chick.  After another few minutes to catch their breaths, they got up and went toward the generator room.

The hall they were in was dark and oppressive.  He walked slowly forward, making sure of each step, until he reached the wall.  The toolbox in his right hand was so heavy he felt like his shoulder might break under its strain.  "I wonder if this area is wet from yesterday's flooding," he said, just to break the atmosphere.

"So what," she shot back.

He couldn't take it anymore.  "What's your problem, anyway?  Just a minute ago you were desperately screaming for help to keep from drowning."

"We were underwater.  I didn't scream anything," she said. 

"Yes, but your eyes did."

"Did not."

He sighed.  "There you go acting all tough again."

"I'm not acting tough.  Besides…" and then she stopped and he ran into her back.

"Don't do that.  It's dark and I can't see."

Her face appeared inches from his nose.  "I'll only tell you once more.  I never, ever, asked for help."  Then she turned her back on him and her hair brushed against his face. 

"If I hadn't opened the door," he retorted, "chances are you and I would both be floating drowned in that elevator."

"If I have to be saved by you, then I'd rather die." 

He didn't answer.  With her refusing to be honest there was nothing more to say.  He edged his way past her and down the flooded corridor.  He couldn't help himself though.  There was one more thing bothering him.  "Okay, that's it, what were those words about anyway?"

That surprised her.  "What words?" she asked, in a normal tone of voice.  He had turned to face her and she brushed past him once again. 

"What you said before we got in the elevator on the second floor.  'I really, really need you.'  Your eyes were watery.  You were begging for my help."

"Yes, I did," she admitted.  He was surprised that she admitted it.  "What about it?"

"So you are depending on me, after all," he pressed.  "And now you finally admit it."  She didn't answer and just continued walking.  He continued to push her; it was the only way to get anything out of her.  "In other words, if something were to happen, you want to be with someone you can rely on.  You're afraid to be alone.  That's why you wanted me to come."

She stopped and turned angrily to face him.  "You are such an idiot.  Don't you get it yet?  The elevator is a neutral buoyancy elevator so for the most part it doesn't require outside power.  But it does need power for the intake and release of water from the ballast tank.  In fact, that's the only time it needs power.  And since this is a blackout…"

She paused and let him finish.  "I know.  You couldn't operate the ballast valve."

"Well," she said, "do you know Archimedes' principle?"

He thought about it. "It's been a while since the academy," he admitted. 

"The buoyancy of a submerged object," she quoted, "is equal to the amount of liquid displaced by the object."

"Oh, that."

"You should be able to figure the rest out by yourself."  Off she went again. 

He shook his head and sighed.  He switched the toolbox to his other hand and continued walking, working it out as he followed her.  As she turned into another corridor, he said, "Oh.  So that's what you meant.  It did seem rather strange you inviting me along.  I was there to increase the weight to overcome the buoyancy of the elevator since one skinny girl like you wasn't enough weight."

"Right.  So don't misunderstand me.  Of the five of us, you're the heaviest."

"Hey," he said lightly, "I'm not just some big rock paperweight."

"No, you're more than a rock," she said matching his tone.  "You're a rock head."

He was glad they were back to light bantering and tried to think of a comeback.  They arrived at their destination first.  Yellow and black stripes lined a wall around a large sealed hatch.  There was an information plate with some writing on it, but it was too dark to read.  "Let me take a look," he said and reached toward the door handle.

"Wait," she called out and grabbed his arm.

"What's the matter?" he asked.  She didn't respond.  "If you don't talk, I don't understand."  She held his arm firmly.  The wet grip of her palm felt cool against his skin.  He tried to read her expression but it was too dark to make out.

"I don't think you should open it," she said slowly, deep in thought.  "It may be dangerous."  She nodded to herself and gently removed her hand from his arm.  She reached into the water on the floor and tossed some of it at the metal door.  The droplets sizzled against it and evaporated away.

"A fire?" he asked.

She shook her head.  "It's a hot water generator, so I don't think there's a fire.  It's probably steam. I think it's just packed full of extremely hot steam. If it's designed to operate normally at six atmospheres and the current air pressure is only one atmosphere, there's a possibility that a tank or a pipe filled with high-pressure steam could have ruptured. It could also be that an abnormality was detected and triggered a safety valve to open."

"Leaking steam would explain why there wasn't enough power," he agreed.  "And so the generator stopped, if that is what happened.  Going in could be pretty dangerous."  He imagined a whole-body shower of supremely hot steam.  He copied her experiment with the water.

She led him back up the hall a short distance and to the next room.  Her plan was, she explained to him, was to first shut off the hot water flowing to the generator room.  The room they entered was covered in an astounding network of pipes.  Many of the pipes continued into the generator room next door.  It seemed that turning some of the valves in the room would control the flow of water and fuel to the generator.  "Normally the generator is controlled by the computer," she explained.  "With the power out, there's not much it can do though.  This room was designed so the generator could be controlled from here in case of this type of emergency."  He wondered how she could possibly know that, or even how to get to where they were.  The confusing array of pipes and valves posed her no difficulty.  She closed one of the many valves.  What kind of woman was she, he wondered.  How could she have known it was dangerous to touch the door?  Could she possibly have some connection to this place?

"Whew," she sighed finally.  "I think this should do it."  She left and he followed her slowly, still bothered by his nagging doubts.  He found her waiting outside the generator room.  She leaned against the wall and slid down it into the water and he joined her.  They were already soaked and it was pleasantly warm, probably from the next room over.  Periodically she repeated the water test on the door.

He asked the only safe question he could think of.  "How long do you think we're going to have to wait?  An hour?"  She didn't even try to answer.  In the dark he couldn't tell if she had nodded or shaken her head either.  In the silence that followed he could hear intermittent and repeated clicking noises, like the sound of dry plastic crinkling.  Listening, he narrowed it down to near her hands.  "What's that?"

She practically jumped.  "What?"

"That crackly sound you're making."  The sound stopped and he could feel her hand moving.  He thought it was her way of saying, 'It's none of your business.'

"What is it with you?  You only answer when you feel like it?  You're like a cat."

"I hate cats," she whispered, "because they eat mice."

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"I, I'm not a cat," she reiterated.  "My not answering has nothing to do with my mood.  If a question has meaning, I answer it.  If it doesn't, I don't.  That's all."

"Really?"  There was no answer.  "You're serious?"

"That's the kind of question I don't want to answer," she said.  "A question to check something, a question about something you don't need to know, or questions about things that you know I don't know but you ask anyway.  There is more than enough pointless conversation already, don't you think?"

"I understand.  How about I ask you a meaningful question?"  He asked something that had been bothering him for a while.  "Pamuya, why do you know so much about this place?  You seem to know all about the details of stuff, like the generator room and the pipe room."  It seemed like she was deep in thought.  "How's that for a meaningful question?"

"Completely devoid of meaning," she responded and closed her eyes.  "How is my answer to that going to help you? It doesn't really matter whether you know about me or not.  It's something you don't need to know."

"Oh, I see.  You're not really in Starfleet, are you?  Fine, if you don't want to answer the question, then don't."  He sighed.  Her evasion of the question made him more determined to find out what there really was to her.  He didn't think she would answer, though, if he badgered her about it more.  He was irritated but forced himself to relax.

While he was thinking, she suddenly put her face in front of his.  "Now it's my turn.  Can I ask you a question?" 

He nodded, and then realized she might not be able to see him.  "Sure, go ahead."

"Will you close your eyes?"

"Is that the question?" he asked in surprise.

"It's more of a favor," she said.  There in the darkness in that corridor just a few inches from his nose.  The two of them.  His mind turned to steam and evaporated.

"Are they closed?" she asked.  Almost as if he were hypnotized, his eyes began to sink.  He could hear noises in front of him.  Something was shaken; there were a few splashes, then a click.  He didn't know what to make of the noises and opened his eyes.  She had a mischievous grin on her face.  "Close them!" she ordered and covered his eyes with one hand.

Something hissed open.  "You jerk!" she yelled at him.  "You dumb jerk."

"What are you doing?" he screamed.  A liquid spray showered his face.  "That went in my mouth!"

"Take that you loser!" she shouted.

"Stop it. Stop it.  What's the matter with you?"  He tried to resist but his body wouldn't do what it was told.  She had him by the neck.

The spray hissed again.  "How's that you slug?  You scum on the pond of life!"  Finally the verbal eruption stopped.

"My mouth is numb," he slurred.  "What did you spray me with?"

She chuckled menacingly and started rubbing his face with a cloth.  The cloth was rough and her technique wasn't any better.  Almost choking, he stopped his futile resistance.  "That's just about right," she said softly and released him.  He scooped up seawater from the floor and splashed it on his face and scooped some more into his mouth and spit it out. 

She jumped and shrieked as the water flew at her.  "That's dirty.  Don't spit it over here."

He just growled at her and continued washing his face off from whatever she had done to it.  He scooped more water and gargled again.  Finally he thought he could open his eyes.  "What do you think you're doing?  What did you put on my face?"

"Acetone."

"Oh great.  At least it wasn't pesticide.  You idiot.  Why did you spray that on me all of a sudden?"

"It was hard to look at."

He was taken aback.  "What was?"

"Your face."

Then he remembered the black ink he had gotten on his hands and face.  It had been there since the day began.  "Where did you find acetone?"

"In the toolbox," she said.  The stench of it hung in the air and stung his nose like overripe fruit.

"Thanks," he brought himself to say.  "Why did you call me those things?"

She said nothing.  He waited.  "You can wait if you want," she said, "but I'm not going to answer that.  It's a meaningless question."

Eventually the door was cool enough for them to enter the generator room.  The heat inside still defied imagination.  The air was heavy and stuck to the skin.  Inhaling felt like swallowing globs of sticky, hot steam.  Kensington opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.  "Isn't it hard to breath?" he commented.  Kalashiavu seemed to have ruled it a meaningless question. 

Apparently she had been right about a safety valve being opened due to the drop in air pressure.  It had not shut after venting and that had caused the power failure. She went about the room and started getting the generator working again.  Following her commands, he assisted in doing the work.  It took a while but the work was finally finished.    Once everything was repaired, she reopened the valve in the pipe room. 

Back in the generator room, he asked "Should we fire it up?"  She didn't answer.  "I'm turning it on."  No response.  "Are you ready?"  Silence.  "Let's start the countdown.  30…" Nothing.  "25 seconds."  No answer.  "20, 19, 18, 17…" Click.  She reached past him and pushed a button.  "Hey, what are you doing? I still had seventeen seconds left to go.  You can't wait a mere ten or so seconds?  These kinds of rituals are very important."

"Zero," she said, and the lights came on.  "Exactly seventeen seconds for the power to come on after I pushed the button."  She flashed him a condescending glance and strolled from the room.  He shouldered the toolbox and followed after her.

He caught back up with her by the elevator.  "You're slow," she said. 

"That's because I'm the one who was carrying this leaden toolbox."

"I know."  He recalled that she had carried it from the warehouse to the elevator in the first place.  His eyes turned to the elevator.  On the other side of the door was the elevator with a hole in it.  Beside it there was another elevator with the light overhead lit up.

"Did you know there was another elevator here?"

"Wouldn't have come if I didn't," she answered.

"I suppose not," he agreed.  He followed her in and dropped the heavy toolbox on the floor with a groan.

"You sound like an old man," she teased. 

"Compared to you," he replied, "I am an old man."  He closed the door and pushed the upper button.  Below them the ballast tank emptied.  The elevator, however, didn't move upwards. 

"Not again!  Why do we keep running into problem after problem?"  Despite knowing it wouldn't work, he pushed the button again.  Beside him, Kalashiavu was coiling and uncoiling her long, still damp hair with her finger.  "So what do we do?"

The monitor above his head flared to life.  Heaven's voice came through the speaker.  "Taylor, Pamuya.  I'm terribly sorry.  Please accept my apologies for being unavailable."

"That's not important now," he said.  "We fixed the generator."

"It would appear so," she agreed.  "Thank you so much."

"I'm sure you know this," he said, "but we're stuck in this elevator.  What should we do?"

"It is likely the result of a decrease in internal air pressure has the device incapable of sufficiently expelling the seawater in the ballast tank.  In other words, it isn't buoyant enough.  There are a number of feasible methods for making it rise, but…"

Kalashiavu suddenly sprang to life.  She opened the doors.  "Okay then."  She tried to exit the elevator and he grabbed her arm to stop her.  "Don't touch me," she warned and slapped his hand away.  "I told you.  Don't touch me."  He absently watched her exit the elevator and return to the third floor.  A metallic voice spoke, the door closed and the elevator began to rise.  It apparently began counting the depth in a tinny voice.  The door opened on the second floor to reveal the other three waiting for him. 

"Where's Kalashiavu?" Ryogo asked. 

"That idiot decided to stay alone on the floor below," he exclaimed. 

"It sure looks like it," Dr. Young agreed.

"'Looks like it?' She did!  She's all alone down there.  We should be worried about her."

"But...," Medea began.

"I'm going back down and bringing her up," he announced.  "We can't leave her alone down there.  She's not really as tough as she acts.  Somebody should be with her."  They looked at him with bemused expressions.  "I know she can be a bit of an ass, but that doesn't mean you all should be so cold toward her.  I'm going back."

He turned back to the elevator and the doors opened.  Pamuya stepped out.  He stared blankly at her until she said, "Will you move?  You're in my way."  He just stood there and she pushed past him and walked by.  If there had been a rock nearby he would have crawled under it.  Instead he did the next best thing and took the elevator down.  'Rock head indeed,' he berated himself.   

After he recovered his wits and composure Kensington went back up and started looking for the others.

[Hstaphath_XC]

It's been said before and I'm sure it will be said again... Taylor is a complete moron.   

Thanks for the update!  I'm still waiting to see how far down the rabbit hole goes...

[Andromeda]

Nice addition.  Fits really well with the rest of it.  I think Kalashiavu's fun.  It's about time Kensington realized she wasn't Starfleet.  Looking forward to finding out how she knows all that stuff.

Not your usual kadhfic.

[kadh2000]

Hsta:  I didn't mean for him to be this bad.  It just kept going downhill.
Rommie: Thanks, I think. 

[kadh2000]

Okay, another weird chapter.  How far towards silliness will a group of otherwise rational people descend when in a bizarre situation?  Happy Halloween.

CHAPTER 7: GHOSTS AND HAUNTINGS

They had gathered in the third floor conference room.  The six of them just sat in the chairs letting time pass.  A rescue team still had not come and their situation showed no sign of changing.  Kensington yawned and it spread like an infection to the others.  Only Heaven was immune and she appeared to be lost in thought.  "Oh, that's right," Medea said.  "I found this in the changing room a little bit ago."  She plucked something out of a pocket.  It was a set of cards.  "Let's play a game.  Since we've got nothing to do."

Dr. Young sighed.  "Cards, hmm.  What do you want to play?"

Medea seemed not to have thought that far.  "How about 'super memory?'" she asked after some thought.

"Super… memory…" echoed both Kalashiavu and Dr. Young. 

"What?" asked Medea.  "You don't know super memory?"  The other two looked at each other and shook their heads.  "You're kidding, right?  Everyone knows super memory.  Taylorpion you know it right?"

"I've never heard of it," Kensington answered.  Heaven confirmed she didn't know the game either.  Medea seemed surprised and disappointed.  "You'll just have to teach us."

Medea shuffled the cards skillfully as she explained the game.  "That's called 'concentration,' Kalashiavu said sharply. 

"'Mental guts' is what we called it when I learned the game," Dr. Young said.

"Most people call it concentration," Kalashiavu reiterated.

Kensington couldn't help himself.  "Maybe on some backwater planet."

"On Earth, its mental guts," Dr. Young repeated in the same tone he had used.  The three of them fell into a silly argument about the name of the game.  Eventually Medea settled the argument claiming since it was her idea, they would call it the name she chose.  Kensington just shook his head.  If they were arguing about something like this, they definitely needed a diversion.

The five of them began playing.  Heaven was, of course, never wrong.  The game stopped when Ryogo came into the room carrying six small cans cradled against his chest.

"What have you got there?" Medea asked.

"Beverages of some kind," he answered.

"That was very thoughtful of you, kiddo," Dr. Young said.  She took one of the cans from him and very carefully pulled the tab and quickly covered the opening with her thumb.

Ryogo sat the other cans noisily on the table.  "I found these upstairs.  I brought these too."  He reached into a satchel he was carrying.  There were the two sandwiches Taylor had left during the blackout.  "I thought that somebody might be hungry."

"Oh great one," Dr. Young exclaimed. "You are so thoughtful!"  She mussed up his hair affectionately.  He stood there stiffly.

"If no one else wants one, I'll take one of them," Kalashiavu offered.

"All that repair work made you hungry, eh?" said Kensington, surprised that she had spoken up.  She, of course, saw no need to answer that question.  He passed her the sandwich and offered the other to everyone else.  Medea volunteered to take it. 

He tossed the sandwich to her and it traced a gentle arc through the air.  Instinctively she reached out her hands but the sandwich passed right through them and landed on the floor.   The wrapper covered Heaven's sandal and seemed to merge with her foot.  "Heaven, you've got no toes," he said.

"My gosh.  Sorry about that." Her vanished toes instantly reappeared.  She shuffled her feet, embarrassed and stepped carefully away from the wrapped sandwich.

Dr. Young erupted in laughter at the whole scene. "Don't be stupid," Kalashiavu warned bluntly.

"It's alright," Heaven said. 

Kensington continued to stare at her.  "Heaven, what are you?"

She looked up at him and took a deep breath.  "My name is Heaven Ansikt.  Officially, my designation is UT-RSDS-4913A.  I am an artificial intelligence program in charge of guiding visitors around Utopia.  I have been programmed as one part of the NeVEAH system.  If called from any nearby terminal, I will soon appear anywhere in Utopia.  My image appears to you through a network supporting the RSD system throughout the complex."

"RSD," whispered Kalashiavu.  "That is really rare.  I've never seen an example of it this sophisticated."

"This, of course," Heaven went on, "explains why I disappeared during the power outage.

"What's RSD?" Ryogo asked, voicing the question on Kensington's mind. 

"Simply put," explained Heaven, "it is an image display system that uses a semiconductor to shine a laser directly on your retina."

"And it's supporting such an advanced personality," Kalashiavu mused.  Kensington was surprised that she was actively pursuing the conversation. 

"Utopia," observed Heaven, "is fairly perfectionist about its spatial display technology.  My existence is one manifestation of that."

"Doesn't that require a big system?" Kalashiavu asked.  "How big is it?  Where is it?  I'd like to see it."

Heaven hesitated.  "I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to say.  It is a secret."

"You weren't given the details?" Kalashiavu pressed.

"That's correct," Heaven said.

Kalashiavu changed her approach.  "It seems you have motivation and a will of your own.  That you are programmed for your own way of thinking."

"That is simply the selection of responses from a massive bank of sampling data the results of which I give back."

"Random.  I see." Kalashiavu nodded.  "You are a learning program in which positive responses are saved in that way and reused."

"That is correct," Heaven agreed.  "I have been designed with specific emphasis on curiosity and concentration.  Morphological analysis from my audio input very likely operates at a speed and a level of precision without peer.  There are also a number of special technologies used to create me.  However, the specifics are industrial secrets which cannot be revealed."

"I see," Kalashiavu said.  "There are things about you that normal AI can't explain, but I think I get the picture."  Kensington sure didn't and was completely lost.  He felt his headache returning.  "By the way, Heaven," Kalashiavu added, "if I told you that I were actually a man would you believe me?"  The bizarre question surprised Kensington.

"No." Heaven answered simply. 

"Well, what if I said I was over twenty years old?"

"That is possible," Heaven agreed.

"I'm single.  I'll stay that way," Kalashiavu shot back.  "That is what I believe."

"That might well be true," Heaven answered.

"While we were repairing the generator, I learned that Captain Kensington had a sex change operation three years ago.  It's true."

"That I cannot believe," Heaven responded.

Kalashiavu laughed.  "You really are quite amazing."

"Could you explain what you were just doing?" Kensington asked her.

She turned to him.  "I performed a variation of a Turing test.  I wanted to see if Heaven can tell when people are lying.  To see if she can determine the truthful information from non-truthful even when she has no background data.  She can.  She does more than compare and reference data with data in her memory, but has been programmed to factor in 'chance' and 'intuition' to make her own judgments.   The system is designed to make choices based on updated information and boost its efficiency by rewriting itself.  This is an incredibly advanced level of technology."

"Is that right?" he asked.

"Yes," Heaven agreed.  "But I'm not very good at lying.  My lying function is underdeveloped."  She laughed at herself.

"But when you introduced yourself, you said you were a system engineer," he said.  "That's a lie isn't it?"

"That's simply a setting of mine," she said.  "It's how my profile in the mainframe computer reads."

"Oh," he said.  He was flabbergasted at her complexity.  Kalashiavu, however, was as cool as a cucumber.  He wondered why she knew so much about this type of system.  He guessed that she had researched a lot of the information beforehand.  Medea and Ryogo seemed not to care.  He felt sorry for the science officer, who was missing a lot.

Hours passed.  It seemed to Kensington to be about the time of sunset.  In the dark depths of the ocean, however, his sense of time had eroded.  Finally he couldn't stand it and checked Dr. Young's tricorder, verifying that it was night.  Still, nothing in Utopia had changed.  While no one showed up to rescue them, there hadn't been any new crisis.  There didn’t seem to be any impending danger of flood or collapse.  Each person spent the time as they pleased.  It was almost as though they weren't trapped.

Deciding he wanted to learn what he could about Heaven, Kensington returned to the control room to visit her.  He wanted a better explanation of 'RSD'.  He hoped it would help his understanding of her.  "You've got my interest perked.  I want to know more about you.  Can you tell me more about RSD?"

"I understand," she said, rising and turning away from the consoles.  "Rattling off a bunch of technical jargon seems like I would just confuse you more."

"I'm no technician," he agreed.  "I'd just get lost."

She put a hand over her mouth, hiding her expression.  "I see.  So were you completely lost when I was conversing with Pamuya earlier?"  He nodded and scratched his head.  He realized he was blushing.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said.  "Did I say something wrong?"

"No.  That was a good comeback."

She looked confused.  "What is a 'good comeback'?"

He sighed.  "It's when you say something to needle the person you're talking with or make a sharp or witty comment that makes them feel awkward."

"I see.  I'm sorry Taylor."

"You don't have to apologize.  You didn't hurt my feelings."

"Are you certain?" she asked.

"Yes.  It's alright."  He searched for the right phrase, couldn't find it.  "It was fun."

"Making a person feel awkward is funny?" she said doubtfully.   "That seems to be a contradiction."

"It is but it's not," he said, wondering how he had gotten in this position.  "It depends on the time and place."

She frowned.  "That's difficult.  It is hard for me to comprehend the concept of 'nice comeback'."

"Let's forget it," he said.  He was actually impressed that she was even able to register a joke.  "Back to what we were talking about, can you tell me more about RSD?"

Yes, let's see." She paused for a moment.  "Maybe I can explain it using concrete examples.  Can you see me?"  He nodded.  "I can see you as well," she said.  "I'm standing right next to you.  You're sure?"  He nodded again.  "But…" she said and reached toward him.  Her hand slipped into his chest without resistance.  Reflexively, he tried to grab her but felt nothing.  "So, you are seeing me, but I am not right next to you."  She pulled her hand back.

"RSD stands for Retinal Scanning Display.  The display device is not actually a display.  Rather, a weak laser is aimed at the retina."

"Right at my eyes?" he said, surprised.

"Yes.  In the ceiling of each room and corridor are semiconductor laser output devices.  The image, my image, is being directly reflected on your retina.  Holographic screens typically allow for the objects behind them to be visible.  This system uses the eyeball as a virtual screen and continuously sends an image synthesized with the background scenery."

"What about your voice, then?" he asked.  "It sounds like your voice is coming from where your mouth appears to be."  He sat down in one of the chairs to concentrate on the conversation and offered her a seat.

"Since I don't get tired," she said, "I don't need to sit."

"I understand that," he acknowledged.  "It makes me feel uneasy though, like you're straining yourself or something.  It would be more 'real' to sit down."

"Is that right?" she asked thoughtfully.  "Excuse me then."  Carefully she sat down in the chair next to him.  He looked but it didn't move as though she were putting any weight on it.  "Now, about my voice.  You're familiar with 3-D sound?  As through a headset?"

"Sure.  I listen to music like that all the time."

"When you do, were does it sound like the music is coming from?" she asked.

"Inside my head, I guess."

"That's right.  Most people hear 3-D sound as if it were reverberating in the center of their head toward the back.  But the sound is not actually coming from inside your head.  If you apply that knowledge and adjust the volume from the left and the right to accurately simulate this reverberating sound, then you could create the illusion that a sound was coming from any direction: above, below, left or right."

He suddenly realized what she was talking about.  "You mean these voice converters that we're wearing."  He had forgotten all about them.  Now he removed them.  In front of him, her mouth moved soundlessly.  Her image also began to get a little fuzzy.  He replaced the earpieces and her image returned to normal.

"The voice converters position helps determine the image's placement," she explained.  "So wherever you stand and whichever direction you face… NeVAEH is constantly using sensors about the complex that measure the location of the voice converters to the millimeter.  When I am sixty feet behind you, my voice will sound as if I'm sixty feet behind you.  The same if I am to the left or the right.  When I'm under you it sounds as if…"

"When you're under me?" he interrupted her.  "When are you under me?"

She appeared to be embarrassed.  "And, so, that's how it works.  Do you understand?"  He nodded hesitantly.  "Face to the left a little, please," she asked him.

When he did, she stood up and moved to his right.  "I told you NeVAEH is constantly monitoring your voice converters.  It is also monitoring the location of your eyeballs.  So that even if you move, I would appear to be in the same place.  The system scans the image onto your eye in this way."

"So you can disappear and reappear at another place?" he asked.

"Do you want to see it?" she asked.

He shook his head, preferring to maintain the illusion.  "No.  I think I'll pass." 

The door opened and Medea stuck her head in.  "Taylorpion, Taylorpion," she said breathlessly.  "I was looking for Heaven.  Have you seen her?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked.  "She's right in front of you."  Medea looked around but didn't seem to see Heaven standing right in front of her.  The girl frowned at him and withdrew.  The door closed behind her. 

"Okay," he said to Heaven.  "Your image wasn't being scanned to her retina, right?"

"There you go," she said.  "That was a quick pick up.  Normally my image is scanned on the retinas of all five of you.  It is coordinated so that it looks to everyone like I am in the same place, doing the same movement and saying the same thing.  But it is also possible to show you something else.  For example."  She walked to the door and it opened slightly.

"Oh, Heaven," he heard Medea's voice say.  "There you are." Clearly Heaven wasn't visible to her from where she stood in the control room.  Then Heaven vanished and he heard Medea saying "That's why I wanted to talk to you."  A moment later, she said "No, no, that's not what I… oh I see.  You want me to bring it?"  Finally, Medea said, "Okay, I'll go tell Maggie.  I'll see you later."

Heaven reappeared in front of him.  "So, I can do this kind of thing as well."

"It really is almost like you're a ghost," he said.

"Yes.  I used to hear that a lot.  Being in the same place and looking at the same thing, only some people can see it and some can't.  I've never seen one but if ghosts really do exist, I imagine they exist much the way I do."

"There is still something that bothers me," he said slowly.  "Can't you be in more than one place at the same time?  Why couldn't you have been in the room with me and talking to Medea in the hall at the same time?"

"Theoretically that is possible," she agreed.  "However, the way I am designed I can't do that.  I imagine it is to help maintain an image of reality for visitors so that there is only one 'Heaven' in the world at one time.  Without that kind of setting, visitors might get confused.  That and it was the policy of my designer.  His policy was to create me as a character with an independent personality.  I have heard that is the policy in amusement parks where there are live actors portraying characters from stories.  There is only one of each character in the park.  Like in a story, any one character can't be in two places at the same time." 

Kensington felt he understood enough and Heaven claimed to have more work to do, so he got up to leave the control room.  It still seemed strange to him that she preferred walking when she could teleport to anywhere in the facility at once.  Maybe she was doing it to humor them.  "One more thing.  I was wondering about the laser retina scan.  If I were in a place the laser couldn't reach then I couldn't see you."

"Of course not," she agreed, "but the scanning devices are located in every room of the complex and there are mirrors embedded in the walls, ceilings, and floors to reflect the images.  So almost no matter where you are, I can be displayed."

"So there are no blind spots?" he asked.

"That's the way it is designed.  However, there is one major flaw. I am only 'seen' when someone looks at me.  I cease to exist when no one is looking at me.  For example, if all five of you were here and you all closed your eyes at once, at that moment I would cease to exist."

He casually held his hand up in front of his eyes and uncovered the view near his feet.  There was no sign of Heaven.  It was as if she had vanished, or had never been there in the first place.  He removed his hand and she reappeared.  The outline of her sandal blurred dimly in the water. 

"Someone has to 'see' me," she said.  "I have to be seen to exist.  Vision… someone's eye actually creates me.  Taylor, when you close your eyes I disappear."   One of the consoles lit up and someone called her name.  "NeVAEH is calling me, so I will leave and come back shortly."  Saying that, she disappeared.  Only the three dimensional hologram depicting Utopia hovered silently in the darkness.

Later that evening, looking out to the ocean, it was only slightly darker than earlier.  Fortunately the damage to Utopia hadn't worsened during the day.  They ate a light dinner at the sandwich shop and gathered in the conference room.  Boredom overtook all of them.  "Everybody looks so sleepy," Medea lamented.  She seemed to be the only one of them completely awake.

"Well," Kensington observed, "there's really nothing to do."   There was no impending danger, no new developments.   It felt somehow as though time had stopped. 

"Taylor, you're such a slob," Dr. Young lazily observed.  "And stop dawdling."

"Look," he replied, "there's no reason to go wandering around the complex.  We're just going to have to wait for help to come."

"I suppose so," she agreed and sighed.  She forced herself to stand and rolled her head around.  "Alright, I'm off for a little bit."

"Where are you going, Maggie?" Medea asked, hopping up.

"Nowhere in particular, just a walk.  I've got to move around or I'll die."

"Why don't we go running together?" Medea suggested, her eyes lighting up.  Dr. Young thought about it for a moment before agreeing.  The expression on her face wasn't all that happy though.

Kensington stood up.  "I have an idea.  We've all been sitting around doing nothing all day.  We need a little bit of exercise.  Just going for a run isn't all that interesting to me. 

"How about tag?" Medea offered excitedly.  "If we took turns being it, everyone would get lots of exercise."

Dr. Young actually looked interested.  "Alright, I'm in."  Ryogo volunteered to join as well. 

"May I participate as well?" asked Heaven.

Medea enthusiastically accepted her offer.  Kensington looked from one to the other.  He wasn't sure why they were all interested in a kid's game.  They all seemed excited to play.  He hadn't realized they were that bored.  Kalashiavu remained seated, looking annoyed.  The others quickly began to settle the matter without him.  Deciding the conference room was too small and the entire facility too large, they limited the game to the third floor. 

Kalashiavu suddenly stood and sighed.  "You never shut up." She walked briskly to the corner of the room and flipped off the light.  Then she returned to her seat. 

"What did you do that for?" Kensington asked.  "It's dark."

"It was too bright for me to concentrate," she said.  "Some of us actually want to rest."

"That doesn't mean you should go turning off the lights just because you want to rest."  He was more annoyed with her than ever. 

"What about you?" she asked.  "You haven't volunteered to play their game.  Don't you want to rest?"

He quickly disagreed with her.  "Does that mean you're playing?" Ryogo asked.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, he decided the game was too childish.  "No, I want to rest, like Kalashiavu said.  Once you get older, kid's games take a toll on your body."

"You must be older than you look, then." Dr. Young said, laughing.  "I'm sure you're saying that because you know you'd never win against the rest of us.  You'd be caught right away."  With a sigh, he stood up.  "Does that mean Captain Kensington wants to play now?" she teased. 

"Alright, I'll play the game, but I think it's silly."  It was, he consoled himself, better than sitting there doing nothing.   Kalashiavu glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and then looked away.  He watched her for a moment, wondering if he had missed something, and discovered the others had gone on making up the rules without him.  The game had become 'kick the can' and was going to be played with only the emergency lights on.  Heaven would amplify the sounds of movement through water so the person who was it would know when someone else was moving.  Because she couldn't compete fairly with the others, Heaven and Medea were placed together as a team.

As they were getting energized to play, Kalashiavu let out a deep sigh.  "You are SO noisy," she complained.  She stood and walked to the exit, leaving the room. 

"Is she mad about something?" Ryogo asked.

Looking after her, Kensington said, "Who knows?  She'll come back after a while.  You'll see. "

Somehow he ended up being 'it' first.  He took the can, closed his eyes, waited in the conference room while the others ran off, and counted to one hundred.  When he was done, the room was empty.  The sound of him walking reverberated unnaturally.  It reminded him of sonar.  He made a note to walk as quietly as he could so he wouldn't give himself away to the others. 

First he tried the central control room.  Only the monitors there showed any sign of life.  He had wanted to rule the room off first as he felt it unlikely for anyone to hide in such a small space.  Next he tried the area where the inoperative elevators to the surface were.  A quick scan showed it was empty. 

Then he heard the sound of someone running through water.  It sounded like they were between the conference room and the exhibit featuring ancient ruins.  He rushed back the way he had come and caught up with Ryogo.  Ryogo surrendered when Taylor came near him.  "Am I the first?" he asked.

"Yes, so you'll be it next once I catch everyone… unless you beat me to the can first."  Then Dr. Young leaped out of a side corridor and shoved Kensington into the water.  She stood laughing as he spluttered in the cold water then ran off with him in hot pursuit.  She reached the conference room before him but couldn't get the door closed before he arrived.  He beat her to the can and captured her and Ryogo.  The door opened and Heaven and Medea appeared.  He quickly captured them too. 

They were getting ready for the next round with Dr. Young being 'it' when the can clanged off the wall and rolled toward them.  Kensington glared into the dark corner of the room and the others quickly fled into the hallways and scattered like scared butterflies.  The sounds of their footsteps echoed and receded down the corridors.  With no one left, he was resigned to having to be 'it' still.  He wondered if Kalashiavu had kicked the can.  It would be just like her to be playing on the sly.

One hundred counts later he headed off on a new search.  This time he started with the ancient 'Utopian Ruins'.  The inside of the exhibit was like a maze.  It was darker than the rest of the room.  He decided against going into it and waited outside.  He peered around the outside of the exhibit but didn't see anyone.  Holding still he listened carefully.  Music suddenly started playing in the attraction.  It didn't quite mask the sound of someone running.  "Maryann!  Stop!" he called out after the shadow he saw moving. 

"How did you know it was me?" she asked. 

"You used this trick on the merry-go-round earlier.  I don't fall for the same thing twice."  She surrendered and he took her back to the conference room and stepped on the can. 

Afterwards he searched the rest area.  He could hear someone trying to move quietly through the water there.  As he got closer, the sounds stopped.  He waited until the person couldn't stand it and made a dash for the exit.  He circled around to cut them off and they stopped.  The splashing ceased and he stopped.  The other person seemed to have gotten more patient.  Kensington flipped open his communicator to try and see by the slight radiance it gave.  Looking down, he noticed a large 'fish' trying to swim underwater out of the room.  He sped over to the 'fish' and captured Ryogo again.

He rounded up the other two and only had Kalashiavu to catch.  He was surprised to see her sitting calmly in the conference room in her old seat.  "I found Kalashiavu," he announced.

She looked at him quizzically.  "What are you talking about?"

"I know you better than that," he said.  "You're just playing dumb."

"Dumb?"

"Didn't you kick the can earlier?"

"Can?" she said.  "What are you talking about?"  She stood up.  He raced around the room to beat her to the can.  She hadn't even moved toward it at all. "What are you doing?"  He went to kick the can but it was gone.  It banged against the wall and everyone fled a second time.

"That's not fair," he called vainly after them.  Kalashiavu stayed in the conference room.  He was sure he could find the others easily enough.  This time, though, there was no trouble and he captured everyone.  It was Ryogo's turn to be 'it'.

"Want to work together?" Dr. Young asked as they ran. 

"It's against the rules," he reminded her.  "I'll pass."

"Maybe I'll hide there," she said, pointing at a door.

"Bathrooms are against the rules."

"We're heading toward a dead end," she pointed out.  They listened, could still hear Ryogo counting, in the mid thirties, and hurried back the way they had come.  "The emergency corridors would have been fun to include," she commented. 

"You really do like breaking the rules, don't you?  Searching would be very difficult then."

She rolled her eyes.  "There are only a few routes to the conference room otherwise.  It's kind of boring."

"Run more quietly," he teased.

"Wait!" she ordered.  They could still hear counting, now in the fifties.  "We'd better hide quickly."  They ended up in the ruins again.  "Shall we go in?" she asked.

"The maze?" He said doubtfully.  "Getting in would be annoying, but…"

"Don't say that."  She pushed him toward the entrance.  He peered inside the exhibit but everything was as dark as if it had been painted black.  He couldn't see anything.  "Hmm," she said.  "It may be too dark to find our way around."

Kensington was about to agree when he saw movement in the darkness.  Kalashiavu came toward them from the maze.  "You were in there?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes, I took a look around," she replied.  "It's completely dark.  You had best not go in."  She left them standing at the entrance.  She kicked at the water lightly with her feet.  She seemed tired.  He heard the sound of faint clicking in her hand.  He had heard it in the darkness with her before. 

"Did you take a flashlight?" he asked her.  "It'd be impossible to find your way in there without one."

At that moment Medea and Heaven appeared.  "What is everyone doing here?" Medea asked.

"I think we're in trouble, clumping up like this," Kensington observed.  "Which reminds me.  Kalashiavu, you are playing too, right?"

"I'm not playing!" she said forcefully.  "I just happened to be here.  I wish you would stop talking that way about me."  He raised his hands in surrender.   

They all listened carefully and could hear Ryogo now in the eighties.  Then he was there with them.  "What is this, some strategy meeting?"

"Not exactly," Kensington answered.  "Run!  Wait a minute!  What are you doing here?  We just heard you counting.  Did you forget you were 'it'?"

In the eerie silence that followed, they could still hear someone counting.  "Ninety-eight, ninety-nine…"

"Who is that?" Ryogo asked.  Suddenly the lights flared into existence.  "Who turned on the lights?"

"I did," Heaven said quickly.  "Everyone appears to be present, yet someone is still counting.  The life readings in the complex do not appear to be abnormal.  There is no movement in the conference room."  The all looked at each other in confusion.

"I don't understand," Kensington wondered aloud.  "Who could have been counting if it wasn't Ryogo?  It sounded like you."  Then the sound of the can being kicked echoed through the corridors. 

"Could it be a ghost?" Heaven asked.  Kensington almost laughed and the others looked at her in surprise.   "If it is a ghost, I would like to make its acquaintance."  The sound of someone splashing through the water reached them from outside the room.  Then the empty can rolled into the room and came to a stop in front of them.

[Hstaphath_XC]

Happy Halloween indeed!

Thanks for the new chapter!!!   

[kadh2000]

Glad to see someone's reading it.  And you're welcome.  Foreshadowing happens here, but it's very subtle. 

CHAPTER 8 : Blood and Water

Kensington awoke from a peaceful slumber.  Despite having fallen asleep in a chair and coming to rest against the table in the conference room, his sleep was far better than it had been the previous night.  Dr. Young was up and stretching.  "You're an early riser," he muttered. 

"You're just lazy," she answered.  Then she let loose a big yawn and admitted that "Being tense so long makes you tired.  It's probably better to sleep when you can.  In this situation we do need to keep well rested.  When it comes down to it, we may have to think our way out of it or we could be in trouble."

Kensington was just awake enough to remember, "I said that yesterday!"  He got up to wash his face and stepped around Medea, who was still asleep atop a makeshift bed formed of two chairs.  He found Ryogo wandering the hall and greeted him.

"A lot's happened the last two days.  Are you feeling depressed, or maybe tired?"

"No," Kensington said, surprised.  "I just woke up."  By the time he reached the nearest bathroom, his shoes were already soaked again.  He splashed the cold water on his face and was instantly roused by the shock.  Medea was still asleep when he returned and the four of them began discussing what to eat.

He gently shook her awake and she sat up slowly.  Her face was unusually pale as she said, "Oh, good morning brother."

"You have a brother?" he asked.  He couldn't remember. 

"No, brother," she said groggily.  "We need to get moving or we'll be late for school."  She was still mostly asleep on her feet.  Suddenly she jerked fully awake and stared at him.  "Oh, Captain Taylor."

He led them back to the diner.  "Everyone okay with sausages?  I think they were for the employees that worked here."  It wasn't long before he had fried them all some breakfast.  The others decided he had missed his calling and should have been a cook.

By the time the four of them had finished eating and had warm food in their bellies, they were laughing and carrying on.  Suddenly Ryogo stopped and looked at the ceiling. "What was that?"  He blinked and stared as if he had seen something.

"What's wrong?" Kensington asked.  Following the scientist's gaze, he looked upward but everything seemed to be where it belonged.

"I wonder…" Ryogo said slowly.  "I don't know what it was, but I could swear I saw something."

"Any idea what?"

Ryogo shook his head.  "I can't really say. I just have a bad feeling about the second floor… somewhere.  I think we should search it one more time."  He looked upward again and started mumbling incoherently.

Concerned, Kensington shook his shoulder.  "I'm sure Heaven would warn us if something was the matter." 

Ryogo snapped out of his dark mood.   "Yeah, you're right.  I still wonder what I saw." 

Then Kalashiavu showed up in the doorway.  "Did something just happen?"

Kensington frowned at her.  "Nothing.  We're just having some sausages.  There's one for you, too."  She took it without replying.  She took the sausage and covered it almost entirely in some kind of sauce.  It was completely covered in orange.  "How do you know that stuff isn't spicy?  That much could kill you."  She bit into it and ate casually.  He was disappointed but was pleased to see a glimmer of her eyes starting to tear up.  However, she finished it quickly without complaint or slowing down.  "You always just wolf down your food.  There's no joy in cooking for you.  Besides with all that sauce you can't even taste it."

"It doesn't matter how it tastes," she replied.  "I've had enough to eat now." 

She walked away from the food stand and he went over and dipped his finger in a drop of the sauce and tasted it.  It was spicy. 

There was a loud metallic boom from above that echoed and reverberated throughout the station.  Kalashiavu's eyes darted from side to side, as if she were searching for something.  The others, who had been sitting in the center of the room, ran over to join them.   "This doesn't have anything to do with your bad feeling from earlier, does it?" Kensington asked Ryogo. 

He shook his head.  "I don't know.  Maybe we should check with Heaven."

At the sound of her name, Heaven appeared among them.  "I'm terribly sorry," she said.  "I overslept."

Kensington blinked in confusion.  "But you're… Never mind.  What just happened?  There was an awfully loud noise."

"One of the shafts that support this floor has started to warp," she explained. 

"We didn't see any sign of that yesterday," Ryogo mentioned.

"No," she agreed.  "This was an unexpected event that was caused by ocean currents."

"How dangerous are we talking here?" Kensington asked, nervously.

"It should be within the margin of error I already gave you," Heaven began, "but… no, wait.  There's an anomaly in one of the pressure regulating pipes on the second level.  They adjust the pressure inside the multi-layered bulkheads comprising Utopia.  If any of them should rupture, for whatever reason, I am incapable of repairing them. The anomaly is slight, so the danger isn't immediate, but I think it best if someone goes to check on it."

"I'll go," Kensington announced. 

Kalashiavu volunteered to accompany him.  "If we have to fix something, we'll need tools.  I know my way around a workshop."  Medea decided to tag along.

Kensington looked around.  Dr. Young was gone.  "Does anyone know where Maryann went?"

"To the control room," Ryogo offered.  "She went there when things started shaking."

"She must have just missed me," said Heaven.  "Please go back there and let her know where we are.  You can monitor the situation from there as well.  Use NeVAEH to contact me if you need to."  Ryogo bounded off.

Kensington and Kalashiavu headed for the nearest staircase and went up quickly.  Despite Heaven having said there was no immediate danger, both hurried to do the work.  Pamuya grabbed the heavy toolbox and carried it.

Heaven was gliding along beside them to show them where the problem was.  "Oh, I wanted to ask you something," he told her.  "What did you mean when you said you overslept earlier?"

She made a very good imitation of embarrassment.  "Today was the day for routine maintenance by the server where my data is stored.  It activated automatically this morning. It took longer than expected for the return processing.  I was too optimistic on my preliminary check.  I'm terribly sorry."

Unable to contain himself, Kensington started laughing.  "Did I say something funny?" she asked.

"No, I just think it's funny that you can oversleep too."

"That's funny?" she asked, her tone saying she did not understand.

"How should I put it," he mused aloud.  "It's cute." 

"Cute?  Sleeping in is cute?" She seemed even more confused.  "That does not compute."  Her eyes became circles.  He wondered if that particular use of the word wasn't part of her database.  "I've caused all of you such trouble," she said, suddenly serious again. 

"Nobody's angry," he said.  "It's not your fault so don't let it bother you.  Everyone knows that you're working hard."

"Ah… thank you."  Her cheeks brightened at the compliment, but her expression was still one of confusion.  Kensington found that amusing too and laughed again.
She looked at him sidelong.  "Is that cute?"  Her charming innocence was definitely cute. 

But then they reached the second level and everyone became all business again.  Nothing appeared out of place, but they could all hear a faint hissing sound.  They headed in the direction of the noise.  "Yep, there wasn't any sign of this yesterday," Kensington said aloud.  "Why do you think it happened all of a sudden?"

"Well… everything doesn't go exactly according to plan," Heaven said.

"It's because we were bouncing around so much," Medea teased. 

Kalashiavu laughed.  "Maybe that's it.  Of course, even if it was, the repairs will make everything fine."

"Right, Pamuya," Medea agreed.  Kensington shook his head.  Only Medea seemed to be able to easily bring out that side of Kalashiavu. 

They followed the sound, which was coming from a warehouse.  "I'll perform a scan," Heaven said, "and let you know the status of the area."  Saying that, she disappeared. 

Remembering what happened the day before, Kensington asked, "There isn't going to be a steam explosion if we open the door?" 

Kalashiavu eyed the door uncertainly.  "It's probably fine."

"You can tell?  You aren't…"

"I'm just saying what you want to hear," she cut him off.

Heaven appeared in front of the door.   "I've run the diagnostic.  Atmospheric pressure is normal.  No toxic gasses detected.  The temperature and humidity of the room are rising in slight increments.  An area of the pipe has ruptured and there is a slight water leak.  The water depth is four inches at its deepest point.

"That's hardly anything at all," Kalashiavu said, turning to face Kensington. 

"Let's just go in and fix it," he said sharply and opened the door.  There were crates and boxes everywhere.  He looked toward the hissing sound.  There was a small crack in one of the pipes and water was dancing out of it in a fine mist.  It didn't seem like there was much to worry about.  They should be able to patch it in no time.

Kalashiavu followed him in and sat the tool box on top of one of the crates.  She opened it and started spreading tools out in front of her.  "What do we need to do?" he asked her.

"The pipe is bent a little," she replied.  "I'm going to clamp a metal sleeve on it.  Would you support the pipe for me?  Medea, on the other side of this, there's a valve attached to this pipe.  I need you to open it a bit for me." 

The three of them started working.  They ended up opening and closing valves on a number of pipes, re-attaching a pipe, and welding shut a few cracks.  "You seem really used to this," he mentioned to Kalashiavu. 

"What do you mean?" she said, looking up from her work.

"Welding.  Where did you learn that?"

"You want to know?"

"Uh, well, it's just that."  He wilted under her stare.

"Asking meaningless questions is a bad habit of yours," she scoffed.  He didn't feel up to saying anything else. 

Heaven still hovered in the area, observing their repairs.  After a while the intercom beeped from the corner of the room.  "It seems like Maryann is calling me," Heaven announced.  "I need to go."

"Okay," Kensington acknowledged.  "We should be able to handle the rest ourselves."  Heaven got close to the intercom and it looked to Kensington as if she were sucked into the receiver.  It was somewhat disconcerting. 

"Taylor, don't just stand there," Kalashiavu interrupted his thoughts.  "On to the next pipe."

Despite their repairs, the sound of escaping steam continued.  Kalashiavu stared at the floor for a minute.  "Open the blue valve over there.  Even though the pump is working, the water level hasn't gone down any.  The drainage pipe may be broken.  After you turn it, close the red one next to it. Okay Medea, you and Taylor turn the valves in the order I told you.  Loosen them and then shut them again."  As they did so, the sound of escaping steam lessened.  While the two of them waited, Kalashiavu lifted the welding torch and started working on sealing the pipe.  Under her direction, they finished that repair.

Still the water level hadn't fallen and it was swirling around at their feet.  Kensington noticed there was a device on one wall sucking in water and then gurgling it back out.  As he stepped closer, there was a faint crackle of electricity from it.  He could see blue-white sparks jumping around inside it.  Standing in four inches of water, he started to feel afraid.  Just then it made an awful cracking sound and the lights flickered. 

Muddy water started overflowing from its vent.  The water around his legs quickly became grimy.  "The drainage is starting to backflow!" Kalashiavu shouted.  "Be careful!"  His leg was caught up in a jet of muddy water and he lost his balance.  He reached out frantically toward the stack of crates nearby.  He was able to catch himself but his weight made them shift and spill over.  Countless containers and rusty pipes began raining down. 

They passed by him and headed toward the wall and Medea.  "Look out!" he called, too late.  She had been mesmerized by his precarious position and hadn't seen the danger coming toward her. 

Kalashiavu shouted and Kensington's eyes were blinded by falling metal objects and splashing water.  The old pipe on the ceiling broke apart into thousands of pieces.  Under its weight, containers were splintering.  They all struck the surface of the shallow water violently.  The sound echoed through the room. Everything seemed to be quivering.  Some of the falling objects struck the pipes along the wall, which ruptured and began spewing more water into the room.  When his eyes were clear, Kensington looked to where Medea had been standing.

Pamuya lay there… fallen over.  A metal beam lay across her legs.  Medea stood, shaken, a few feet away, and stared at the spectacle.  Pamuya had apparently thrust her out of the way and taken the brunt of the damage in her place.  Kensington forced himself to his feet and hurried to her side. 

A metal shaft had dug deeply into her right thigh and she couldn't move.  Steam and water were pouring out of the burst pipes around her.  The drainage pipe was belching out muddy water in large quantities.  "I guess I messed up," she gasped.  She grimaced and clasped her thigh tightly.  She was losing a lot of blood.  The murky water around her was turning red.

"Are you okay?"  It was the only thing he could say.  He knew she wasn't.

"Does this look okay to you?" she said bitterly.  "Always asking stupid questions."

He smiled.  "You've still got a sense of humor.  Good.  I'll get that stuff off of you.  Just wait."  He tried to lift the beam but it was too heavy.

"Looks like it's no use," she said softly.  The water level was rising quickly and had reached his knees. 

Medea started wading toward them.  "Get back!  Get away from me!" Pamuya warned.  The girl stiffened and stopped short.  "Get out of here," Pamuya ordered her.  "You too, Taylor.  Get out while you can.  The partitions for this room won't last long at this rate.  You'll both die if you stay.  So, hurry! Get out of here."

"Stupid idiot," Kensington retorted.  "You think I can just leave you?  You're part of my crew."

"There's nothing you can do," she whispered.  "I'm stuck here, and with this injury you couldn't help me anyway."

"Shut up," he ordered her.  "I won't let you give up now, dammit."  He turned to Medea. "Get outside, find an intercom, and contact the others."  Trembling, the girl moved her legs slowly toward the door.  When she reached it, she disappeared quickly from sight.  The door to the warehouse closed shortly thereafter.  Water had reached its bottom edge and it had closed automatically.

Pamuya was under water up to her waist.  "What are you trying to prove?" she asked him.  "It doesn't mean anything.  Just leave.  I don't want you here. "

"I wouldn't be here," he retorted, "if there wasn't a reason.  I can't just leave you here."  He wasn't sure what he could actually do for her, thought.

"Why not?"

"I've taken nothing but abuse from you and you still haven't thanked me properly."

"Oh really?" She laughed weakly. "I suppose that's reason enough."  Her lips were trembling.  The murky water was spreading.  "It's gotten cold in here," she murmured.

"Stay with me, Pamuya," he said, choosing his words carefully. 

"I'm perfectly sane," she replied.

He ignored her.  "You're wound isn't that deep, so don't worry.  Once I get you out of here, you'll be okay."

"You'll be okay," she mocked, but her voice was very weak.  "What makes you think that?  You're the one who's crazy."

The water level was almost to her neck.  A section of the partition started to give and seawater began pouring in.  The water was icy cold.  "I'm sorry," he said.  "It was my fault.  I wasn't paying attention and you got hurt."  Her face contorted in pain and she labored for breath.

He decided to try one last time.  He took a deep breath and dove beneath the surface.  Unable to see, he searched with his hands until he found the shaft that was crushing her leg.  It moved slightly and she pulled her leg out from under it.  He lifted his face out of the water, gulping in air.  Then he grabbed her and pulled her up with him.  Even standing up, the water level had reached his shoulders.  "You are such a stubborn idiot," she breathed.

"Shut up and keep quiet," he said sternly.  He studied their situation.  There was no way she could swim.  Holding her, he headed for the exit.  The door was already underwater.

"There's no way you can save me," she whispered, her voice surprisingly loud in his ear.

"I told you to be quiet," he responded.  "There's got to be another exit.  I'll find it. It'll be okay.  We'll get out of this."

"There you go again, saying "It'll be okay".  You're so irresponsible."  He moved away from the door.  Even if he could have forced it open, it would have flooded the second level.  His eyes searched desperately for another exit.  Then he realized his feet weren't touching the floor.  He gulped in air when their bobbing motion got his face above water.  Nearly at his limit, he was about to admit defeat when he saw a ladder climbing upward in the corner of the room.  If they could use it to reach the emergency passageway, they would survive.

He headed toward it.  "We're going to make it, Pamuya," he called out excitedly.  She didn't answer.  He swam as strongly as he could to reach the ladder.  With her draped on his back, he climbed upward.  At the top, he opened the flood hatch and pushed her through.  He followed immediately behind her and quickly shut the hatch.  The sound of the flood faded away. 

Despite his exhaustion, there wasn't time to rest.  Pamuya was still losing blood.  He lifted her on his back again and lurched down the passageway.  He was wondering which way to go when Heaven appeared before him.   "Medea told us what happened.  Bring her to the infirmary.  Doctor Young is preparing to treat her.  I will guide you."

"Pamuya, Pamuya," he reassured his burden, "it's going to be okay."  He was relieved to hear her emit a pain-filled groan.  The thought entered his exhausted mind that he would never have been able to tell her it was no use, even if saying it would be okay was irresponsible. 

With renewed energy, he rushed to the infirmary and set Pamuya down on one of the beds.  She had lost so much blood.  Standing over her, he asked, "What are we going to do?"

Dr. Young pushed him out of the way.  He stumbled back and sat on the floor.  She took something from a rack and pressed it on Pamuya's thigh.  "This is bad," she muttered.

"What?  How bad?  Can't you use the scanner?"

"It seems to be broken," she replied. 

"I can do it," Heaven said, and waved her hand in the air over Pamuya.  "There is a compound fracture of her femur.  The artery is severed.  She'll need sutures."

"I've stitched up my finger before," Dr. Young said.  Kensington remembered she was an archaeologist, not a medical doctor. 

"I will direct you," Heaven assured her.  "Anesthesia, the laser scalpel, forceps and sutures, and everything we'll need, are all in this room."

Dr. Young started removing Pamuya's clothing.  "Taylor!  Don't sit there.  You're in the way and you shouldn't be seeing this.  Out!"  She pointed toward the exit.

He nodded, got up and trudged to the door.  "Take care of her, okay."

"Leave it to me," she said.  "Out."

As soon as he was in the hallway, his fatigue finally hit him.  He set himself down in the nearest chair.