Chapter 14

Cromartie's story had impressed them all so much that they were perhaps lulled into complacency. The days and weeks passed by in endless sameness and still they hadn't reached the critical worm transit that would take them to the Eden system where they could begin decelerating to make orbit and finally, via shuttle, planetfall.

And time was, Meiersdottir knew, uncomfortably short. The original plans had called for arriving at Eden a full six months before the emissions of Chen's nova would reach it, ample time for a carefully organized evacuation. But frustrating construction delays with the Ark had shortened that time and then shortened it again. By the time of their departure from Earth it was calculated that they'd have only a bare two months on the planet, still enough but with none to spare.

Those estimates, though, were based on the transit numbers MacPherson had given at the initial briefing. At the time he'd said twenty to twenty-two weeks total. She was aware from experience that two of those weeks could be discounted; they represented perceived time aboard the ship while it was traversing worm space, which in actuality was instantaneous. That left another twenty weeks maximum, of which presumably half the time would be spent accelerating to the velocity necessary for them to make the worm transit and the other half bleeding off that retained speed so they could make rendezvous with the planet.

They were now, though, a full thirteen weeks into the voyage and still in the acceleration phase. For quite a few days Meiersdottir had been asking Cromartie how long it would be until they made the transit, and all he would do was ambiguously tell her "soon." Finally she refused to settle for that.

"Quit fobbing me off, Warren," she snapped at him. "I know I'm old, but I'm not stupid, and I'm not a child whining about 'are we there yet?' How long? Numbers, not adverbs."

He looked uncomfortable. "Ma'am, I can't narrow it down to a day, it depends on a lot of things." As she continued to glower at him he finally relented. "Well, if we keep on at our present acceleration I'd say another eight weeks or so, maybe nine, that range."

"What?" she fairly shrieked. That would be far too late, if they went at all it would be only to share Eden's fate in the bath of deadly radiation that would by then have reached it. "What's happened? Your captain said twenty or twenty-two weeks total, and two of those were bogus weeks, weeks in worm space that don't count here. We've been depending on that, it's critical!"

"I know, ma'am," he said miserably. "But that was before you ordered the captain to rein in the engines."

"I? I ordered no such thing!"

"Well, ma'am, maybe it wasn't you then, maybe Ms. Heisinger or Mr. Igwanda, he wasn't very specific—"

But she'd already reached the door of her cabin where they were talking and flung it open. "Alicia!" she called. "Carlie! Get in here, I need you right now!" Their own cabin was next door to hers, and they appeared within seconds, mouths agape in surprise and alarm. She gave them no time to ask questions.

"Did either of you order Captain MacPherson to slow down our acceleration for some reason?" she demanded. Baffled, both shook their heads no. She turned again to Cromartie. "As I think you know quite well, we three are the only ones with authority to order anything at all," she told him harshly. "Now, what the hell has been going on?"

Thoroughly discomfited by the unexpected turn of events, Cromartie gradually stammered out an explanation. The Ark had been built with five massive thrusters designed to be operated in concert. All had been engaged at the time of their departure from Earth orbit. But shortly thereafter, when the captain had initially retired to his hermit-like seclusion in his cabin and transferred the master controls from the bridge to there, first one and then another of the big thrusters had been shut down; now only three were powering the ship. When Cromartie had questioned the captain about it he'd been laconically told simply "orders."

"I asked him if he knew why, and he said something about not wanting to stress the ship. I mean, I was a little surprised, but I know it's a new ship, and far and away the biggest one ever built, so I just figured that was why, that and all the mass I know you're planning to take home with us..." He trailed off, noting the frigid expressions confronting him now on all three faces.

"All right, Warren, let's see how bad it is," said Meiersdottir in a bitter voice. "If we resumed acceleration at full power, all thrusters to their maximum, how soon would we get to worm velocity then?"

He thought for a moment. "To reach the minimum specification, maybe about two more weeks, possibly a little less," he answered.

"There's still time," breathed Heisinger.

"Just barely," Meiersdottir said.

Igwanda was more practical. "But only if we put the pedal to the metal right now. Cromartie, get that butt of yours in gear. Get up to the bridge immediately and slam everything on. I want every drop of power this thing can generate."

But the mate was already shaking his head. "Mr. Igwanda, I can't do it. Captain's switched the master to his cabin. The ship will only answer to controls from there now."

Momentarily stymied, Igwanda simply stared at him. His grandmother was quicker to react. "You visit Captain MacPherson there daily, do you not, Warren?" she asked.

"Well, most days," he said.

"It's time for you to make another visit, then, right this minute," she told him. "Only this time with some company. You won't announce us, only yourself, but we'll be with you. Let's go, now, march!" As they headed down the corridor she turned to speak quietly to Igwanda. "He's likely locked in, Carlie, and this is quicker and easier than beating down his door." The young man nodded.

The three muted their steps as they approached the captain's door. Meiersdottir motioned to Cromartie to knock, and he did. "Aye?" came from within.

"It's me, sir," said the mate. They heard the lock click and the door abruptly opened.