It Comes In Threes (Part one)

[Hare]

“You said jettison ‘everything’, the boxes counted as ‘everything’!”

No matter how he looked at it the young engineer had just sentenced them all to a long protracted death on a god forsaken piece of rock light years away from any other form of life. The engines had passed the ‘no return’ point three days ago and they’d burnt enough fuel to keep the earth station going for a month to get this far.

Petulant the engineer stuck to his guns, “Anyway I can’t understand what all the bloody fuss is over, they were only seeds for god sake we wouldn’t be using them until the third phase anyway. The main jobs are to be done when we get there, you’ll need me then. Terraforming isn’t something any of you are qualified for, you need me to complete the mission!”

 

Tired from his own thoughts looping around his now fractured mind the captain just nodded and let the man go without the security escort that had brought the crewman in. The security nodded once and then left, he’d debrief them all later when he had a handle on their entire situation. He only hoped that the boxes that were left held something useful inside them and not bacteria strains.

Flicking a switch brought the long range communicator into life, they weren’t supposed to use it but he really didn’t have much of a choice. Even though they were only a third into their journey through ‘dark space’. It was a risk but it might be worth it if someone actually picked up the message.

“Scientific vessel P-4 communicating to Outer Rim listening post, I have a code 212 in effect, repeat, a code 212. Cargo lost by crew member unsure of what remains, will continue to follow mission parameters. I’m going to follow protocol in advising the crew members when I’m sure of what we have left, we need a full team to follow as soon as possible, with another set of cargo. Captain Viger signing out.”

 

Even as his finger flicked the switch off he didn’t hold out much hope of anyone sending a second cargo to him, where they were heading they weren't going to get any help for at least twenty years. It had been enough of a struggle getting everything ready for this flight, everything was breaking down, technology wasn’t the cure all for the systems ills. The new nanites that were being produced weren’t half as good as the last lot, he’d made sure that they’d sequestered the last of the series nines for this trip. When they were released at least the next humans that came along were assured of a decent air supply.

 

Pushing out of his chair he decided to go and have a look for himself, see the damage done and try to tell himself that the problem wasn’t as bad as it looked.

The hold was small, enough room for twenty men in all but it was enough to fill a world with life, now it had been half emptied. He tried to get angry with the engineer but he had given the order to lighten the load of the ship and if truth be known it was the way the information was distributed through the ranks and strata’s that was really at fault.

Walking into the hold he picked up a box, the weight was negligible really, the man obviously trying to help but instead damning them all to a slow death. The side was nondescript, its plain purple plastic shell keeping the precious cargo intact, temperature controlled, hibernating, perfect in every single way. Unless you threw them out into deep space and didn’t tell anyone until you decided to empty the other half. He stacked the box back with the rest, as he turned to leave he caught sight of the tech who’s job it had been to keep an eye on their future. His face was still dotted with red patches, sweat beading on his upper lip as he tried to keep himself steady, eyes already recriminating himself and for the moment he didn’t feel like changing his mind.

“When were you going to tell me? Or am I not in the loop of this one, not got a big enough brain to work this out?” The tech straightened up and tried to look the professional he was.

“I didn’t know either sir, not until I saw the log documents, the suffix was there on the docket. P.M.O, Pryus Malus Ovules, best thing for us and where we’re heading. All we’ll need is a decent gene lab and we’ll be feeding ourselves within a year.”

 

The captain nodded as he walked toward the tech who was now looking a little fitter, he couldn’t blame him either, he hadn’t wanted to get sick from a bite that had festered. He turned back to his thoughts about courses and where they were heading and what might be around the next corner, passing the younger man as he looked nervously at the larger boxes at the back. He was almost away when the young tech’s voice stopped him dead. “Sir what’s happened to the large blue crates, the one the labs in?”

He really didn’t want to answer him but the words came out anyway, “They were the first through the airlock son....how do you rate our chances now?” To his credit the tech didn’t say anything but if he’d had eyes where his co pilot had them he’d have seen him go white.