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Tranquil Waters: Fathom's Phantoms The Cold Hard Truth

Although there were any number of jobs he could have qualified for as an S-Class Neo-Human, Ely Four had never been inclined to consider the life of a detective. The tedious data collection, leaps of logic, and attention to detail would have been a good fit for any of his three older brothers, or even the youngest of the bunch, Ely Five... but not Ely Four-- he had always been more action-oriented.

Having scored the highest out of the five brothers in hand-eye coordination, reflexes, and weapons accuracy, it was no surprise when he was offered a commission in security aboard a space freighter for a shipping company-- not exactly a glamorous position for a genetically created super human, but it was a start. From there, it took several years to advance to the chief of security, and another two years to be hired on by DRC as a Security Commander on one of their shuttles. It seemed strange... almost poetic then that he now found himself facing the work more befitting of a detective... and he'd been at it for two days.

Letting out a sigh, the Neo-Human went through his relatively small amount of 'case notes'. The Apercu had obviously been sabotaged, and most likely from within. Back on the space station, as per protocol, Ely had joined the ground crew in their final walkthrough of the ship systems and everything was cleared; whatever damage had been done to the internal systems would have to have been done during the flight from the space station to the asteroid belt. He felt it safe to assume that the saboteur was either still aboard, or off digging up rocks... or whatever the hell it was the survey team was up to since they'd left the ship.

Reviewing the crew roster, the security commander was very easily able to limit the list of suspects to one: Alton, the ship's junior mechanic. Having worked with everyone else aboard for most of his career with DRC, Ely was confident that the remaining members of the crew were clean. Although the Neo-Human's first impression of the Gen 2 Donkey told him that Alton couldn't have possibly had it in him to do such a thing, he did have to admit that, as a junior mechanic, the Donkey would have had the know-how.

Maintaining him as a person of interest was quite a stretch though considering Alton's general nature, but Ely also knew that some people were naturally good at deceiving others. He tapped his pen against the metal desk of his office/quarters, an internal struggle between crossing the Donkey's name off the list or circling it as a possible suspect.

He had never seen Alton hurt a fly: slash. Out of everyone in the crew the Donkey was the most secretive and withdrawn: circle. The junior mechanic seemed, for the most part too inept to accomplish such a feat: slash. Alton was constantly picked on by everyone, thus having a very reasonable motive: circle. The Donkey had spent almost all of his waking hours with the senior mechanic: slash. Almost doesn't equal ALWAYS.... the commander was just about to contemplate circling the Donkey's name when his eyes slowly drifted to the files on the survey team... and he slid his first stack of names aside.

Other than a few names on the list, Ely Four had never so much as heard of any of the people; for all he knew most of them could have been the culprit. He was fast enough in crossing off the Overseer, the Lead Tech, and the team's work crew supervisor-- all of them were several year veterans of DRC activities. He also crossed off all of the names of the dead workers; if one of them WAS the saboteur then he wouldn't ever know for sure, but that didn't mean he was able to stop looking... just in case they weren't so lucky.

Ely knew Jocelyn Schultz in passing; they had worked together a time or two and she always came across as professional and composed. She was a company woman and he was confident that she wouldn't have done anything to compromise the mission. The same could be said for the team's lead tech, Kyle something-or-other. Even though Kyle had been with DRC only a few months more than Ely, the young man always looked like he took a lot of pride in his work... and someone that proud of his position wouldn't risk the mission... no... Jocelyn and Kyle weren't responsible for the shuttle's malfunction.

The survey team's crew supervisor certainly wasn't responsible-- he had been with DRC for longer than any of them. That, and the fact that he actually ended up in the passenger compartment that got voided out into space... unless he had a death wish, Ely would have expected him to head for mid-ship around the time of the malfunction. The security commander's eyes slowly migrated to the next file in line, "Hmm..." he murmured, pulling the paperwork out that included a scanned pic of a rather large, Gen 2 long-furred Long Horn Bull.

He spoke to the picture of a bored-looking humanoid bovine. "Sherman, eh? You're definitely on the list."

Ely had heard about the 'name game' the survey crew had been playing and, frankly, it sickened him. The thought of working with men and women who were, for whatever reason, being kept anonymous by the company. He glanced at the pic for several moments trying to figure out if the bull looked the part of a saboteur... or a thief... a rapist... a burglar... a murderer? He could have been any of those things for all Ely knew-- 'Sherman' had nothing in his file. Dropping the folder, the Commander circled the Gen 2's name.

But, he thought to himself, what about the Voljoi? He picked up the file for Dr Ibrin Nlosk. Ely had never been one to trust the Grays, and he wasn't about to start. According to the Voljoi's folder, the good Doctor had been in service to DRC for almost a year. Apparently he had been hand picked by Sigma-Echo's very own Station Captain. Normally such a distinction would have set Ely at ease but, he reminded himself, the Station Captain also happened to be a Voljoi; he circled Ibrin's name as well.

The Neo-Human continued his review, marking off the survey team's security commander as well (such a position was too closely screened and, besides, Bug drones would be too conspicuous and someone would have seen it messing around in the hallway). Ely picked up the final folder, looking at the jovial, portly face of a Gen 2 Pig: the survey team's field medic. He couldn't help but think it strange that she was still on the shuttle with the crew instead of out there with the survey team. Coincidence? It was possible... but, he realized, the reason could have pointed to something a little more sinister; the Commander contemplated circling her name as well.

Leaning back in his chair, Ely Four let out a faint groan, rubbing the back of his neck. It wasn't that he was getting a neck cramp, it just felt like the right thing to do after dealing with so much paperwork; he hated paperwork. Standing, the Neo-Human crossed his room and sat down on the edge of his bed. He pressed the comm button on his wrist-mounted Personal Communication Device and waited until the call screen displayed on the PCD.

"Itchy."

A moment after the Neo-Human spoke, the shuttle pilot's insectoid face appeared within the small monitor. "Yes, Commander?"

"When was the last time you ran a scan on the flight system?"

The pilot didn't take long to consider the question. "Burger asked that I do not. He announced that he had the diagnostics disconnected so he could work on the primary control unit."

Smart donkey, the Commander thought to himself. Burger was doing as he asked and had apparently not shared the discovery with Itchy. Ely contemplated for a moment if the junior mechanic was better at subterfuge than he had given him credit for. "I'll check on his progress shortly and find out when we'll be up and running."

"Thank you, Sir."

Ely had been working long enough with Itchy to realize that the bug had more to say, but wasn't going to unless invited. As such, he opened the door for questions and comments. "What's on your mind, Itchy?"

The drone's mandibles worked together with fervid displeasure. "Tirzsark and Navigator Bern have been exceedingly loud as of late during their bouts of physical intimacy."

Ely did recall something about the non-sexed bugs having an aversion to dealing with situations involving copulation... especially when it was rubbed in their face by an overactive, hermaphroditic Cytkus like Tirzsark. At least a 'noise complaint' was easier than detective work. "I'll handle it, Itchy."

The Bug responded flatly. "Your tone suggests that you do not find my request to be meaningful and/or worth your time." Ely cursed inwardly, suddenly reminded that the bugs were incredibly good at reading tones, "They have a lot of downtime, Itchy... we're not getting attacked and we're not flying anywhere and neither of them have anything to do, so as far as I can figure, at least it's keeping them both out of trouble and it means I--"

The bug's face drew closer to the screen. "Commander, with all due respect, they could be assisting Junior Engineer Burger with repairs."

Commander Ely tried to keep his response professional. "I wouldn't trust Raska with a hammer. She'd probably end up breaking something in a fit of rage."

Itchy was quick to throw another suggestion at him the moment he had responded to the first-- the bug had obviously been thinking on it for some time. "They could be spending their time outside of the ship building fortifications against the wind storms."

Ely didn't know if changing the subject would help, but he didn't mind trying, "I'm still surprised that there IS wind on this rock. With such a thin atmosphere you'd think--"

He was interrupted by the sound of a loud, muffled thump from the other side of the PCD, followed by a moan, and a roar, and several more loud, repetitive thumps. One of the bug's antenna twitched, but its expression was otherwise unreadable. Ely didn't have to guess the origin of the sounds. "Alright... I'll talk to them."

"Thank you, Commander... that is all I ask."

Ely Four waited until the pilot disconnected before he groaned; he wasn't particularly excited about the prospect of discussing when and when not to rut with a hemale Cytkus... nor was he thrilled with the idea of chastising an obviously bored and likely horny female Gorumn, but he realized it was just one of many wonderful tasks that made up the sum total of his job description. "At least it isn't detective work."

Standing, the Neo Human stretched and headed for the door leading out into the hallway. He had rationalized that the Cytkus and the Gorumn must have been in Raska Bern's quarters since Tirzsark's room didn't share a wall with the bridge. He was half-way to his destination when his PCD beeped twice at him, indicating an urgent call.

He managed to keep his tone even, if a bit short. "What now?"

It was Beatrice Muntz, the survey team's field medic. "Commander..."

The Neo-Human slowed to a halt. He was going to tell her off for interrupting his activities but, suddenly realizing what it was she had interrupted, "Go ahead, Ms. Muntz."

Leaning back against the wall, he hoped that she would take up at least five... maybe ten minutes of his time. Her response, however, was simple and to the point, "Captain Keizer has passed."

Suddenly it seemed that dealing with the 'noise complaint' didn't seem quite so bad. He must have paused longer than he had thought when the pig spoke up, "Commander?... Commander, are you there?"

He acknowledged the information. "I'm here. I'll let the crew know."

"Commander... if you need I--"

He repeated his earlier statement. "I will let the crew know... I'll have Tirzsark and Raska help you move the body to the storage bay with the rest."

The Pig woman continued delicately. "I... can let everyone know, if you like. "I know you're busy right now with--"

He interrupted the medic and disconnected contact after a curt "That will be all, Ms. Muntz."

Letting out a sigh, he leaned against the hallway wall and steadied himself both physically and mentally. The Neo-Human took in a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. The captain was dead, which meant that, for the time being, he was in charge. He knew it had always been a possibility but, suddenly, facing the prospect of commanding a ship and not just looking after its security seemed like such a daunting task... especially while proceeding with his investigation.

Ely continued toward the shuttle's bridge; from there he would put out an all-call on the ship's PA system and tell the crew all at once. He made a mental reminder to go back and move Beatrice Muntz from 'person of interest' to 'suspect'... and he'd do the same to Alton... just to be on the safe side. Between the two of them and the two suspects from the survey crew he had four people to consider very carefully; if he was going to be in command of the ship then he planned on having the investigation completed by the time they returned to Sigma-Echo.

* * * * * *

Overseer Schultz awoke with a start, letting out a hiss through her teeth as her freezing body immediately screamed out in protest. A frosty tomb surrounded her and it took a moment for her to recall what had happened. She and her team had fallen through the icy surface of the asteroid and into an open chamber below. Twisting first one way then the other, Jocelyn began to work back and forth within the small space of mixed ice and detritus, realizing that she wasn't buried as deeply as she had feared when a small ice block fell aside and revealed a view of the beyond.

She continued to clear the rubble away from herself then winced; gazing down at her leg she realized that a large shard of ice had penetrated her thigh and, since it had melted, the wound was freely bleeding. Gritting her teeth, the Overseer was further displeased when she realized the thin atmosphere meant that she was bleeding even faster thanks to the pressure difference. If she didn't do something, the chances were good she'd bleed out.

Pulling herself free from the wreckage of the icy ceiling, Overseer Schultz grabbed at her wrist and let out a sigh of relief that her PCD was still in place. She turned the screen on and pulled up a white background, using it as an ad hoc flashlight until she was able to locate her pack a few feet away. Using her good leg and both hands she crawled to it and pulled it close, shuffling through the contents before she found was she was seeking: she pulled out a large LED lantern and turned it on, providing her light by which to work.

Rummaging around in the pack, Jocelyn found a small white jar with a red cross on the front. The topical emergency gel was a combination of lidocane, epinephrine, and a number of antibiotics along with other chemicals she couldn't remember, but it worked just fine without her knowing. She slid her fingers through the torn opening of her suit and quickly pressed then along the wound. Some of the chemicals in the gel restricted the blood flow lessening the severity of the injury; it would require medical treatment but at least she wasn't going to die... in the immediate sense anyway.

The Overseer put the remainder of the container away and began looking around the large crevasse into which she had fallen. There was rubble all around her, evidence that the collapsed section of ice ceiling was much more significant than the pin-prick visible in the distant 'roof'. Gauging the distance, Jocelyn was surprised at exactly how far she had fallen... not to mention the fact that she was still alive. She let out a faint, surprised whistle in admiration how lucky she must have been.

A voice echoed through her helmet surprising her her. "Such a fall would likely have proved fatal on your native planet."

She slowly turned to regard Dr Ibrin Nlosk a short distance from her. "Good thing we're not back on Earth then."

His black, bulbous eyes glimmered in a rainbow hue as they reflected the lamp light, "Just so. We are fortunate that the gravitational pull of this planetoid is scarcely 60% of Sol-3."

She gingerly touched her leg, noting the numbness. "I'm just glad that there's enough atmosphere to keep me from decompressing. My suit was punctured in the fall."

The Voljoi blinked. "Fortunate that your mask was not. There may be pressure, but I doubt that your physiology would respond to the lack of sufficient oxygen."

He returned his attention to the dented mobile shelter, which lay on its side a stone's throw away from Jocelyn. The Overseer watched the Voljoi as he pushed his entire 70-something-pound frame against the metal enclosure and got no closer to tipping it over onto its correct side. Grunting, Jocelyn got to her feet and limped over to where he was working. "Go around to the other side... I'll push... you pull."

Between the two of them the mobile command center finally relented and righted itself. The entire compact building weighed well over three hundred pounds, but Dr Nlosk was correct, she realized, in that it was far easier for them to maneuver thanks to the low gravity of the planetoid. The Voljoi walked around to where she stood at the control panel. "Are you familiar with the operation of this device?"

She shrugged. "I've used them on occasion... a few years ago. Boone was always better with--" she paused, glancing around within the area lit by her lamp, "Did you find anyone else out there, Doctor?"

The Gray shook his head slowly. "No, Overseer Jocelyn. The moment I came to I checked the beacon on the MCC and came straight here."

She scowled. "Damn."

Dr Nlosk glanced around, large, black eyes far more perceptive to the darkened gloom of the crevasse, "Due to the scattered trajectory of our falls, it may be possible that we could have separated dozens of yards. It did not seem prudent to shout as any loud noises could likely have brought down the rest of the ceiling."

The Overseer nodded in thought, "Best thing we can do is keep the lantern going and get the MCC set up. If anyone else is alive they should find us."

The Voljoi took a step away from the expansion radius of the device. "I would advise a degree of expedience in the shelter, Overseer. Please remember that the temperature decreases greatly once we are no longer in the star's light."

Glancing skyward, Jocelyn realized what Dr Ibrin meant; the hole was getting darker by the second and he was right; given another five or ten minutes, the air temperature around them would probably drop a hundred degrees, putting it well below the lowest safety point for their survival gear. "We'll get the MCC up... but the lamp stays outside...just in case."

The Doctor objected immediately, "The cold will destroy the device."

She gave no response and he offered no further argument. In the end it took Jocelyn another two minutes to get the control pad cleared of ice and another minute and a half before she had the correct key sequence to activate its expansion. A handful of seconds and one backpedaling Gray later and the MCC was set up. The Overseer pressed one final key combination and the bump-out entryway extended. The extra entrance room was exceedingly important in any hostile environment as it provided a safe buffer between the exterior and interior of the building where temperature and atmosphere could normalize.

She motioned for the Gray to proceed. "Alright, Dr Ibrin... Inside."

The Voljoi didn't bother moving. "You are the human, Overseer. Your physiology is not made for this... you should proceed first."

She shook her head. "You're my responsibility, Doctor... In. That's an order."

She had grown up among the gender gap in humanity which, despite many suggestions otherwise, was still alive and well... but the approach the Voljoi took in the difference between males and females was practically archaic. Dr Ibrin stared at her for several seconds, then did as she requested. He held the door open, and she joined him in the entry room.

As they watched the readout of the MCC's interior condition slowly improve she couldn't help but ask. "Do you think anyone else made it?"

Dr Ibrin responded in his analytical way. "I could not say for certain, Overseer. Although each minute that passes reduces the likelihood."

A green light appeared on one of two read-outs, indicating that entryway met livable standards for temperature and atmosphere. Jocelyn watched the indicator for the main portion of the MCC. In most circumstances the entry room was second for normalization but in the extreme cases, such as the one in which in which they found themselves the structure automatically started with the smaller room as it was faster to bring up to what the scientists referred to as 'S.T.P'.

At that moment, all the Overseer could think about was that the MCC wouldn't let anyone outside inside until she and the doctor were safely into the structure proper. "This always seems to take longer when you're impatient."

"Then show restraint and be patient."

Jocelyn let out a sigh, her mind wandering back to the three members of the team still left out on the Planetoid. Moe was a Xtok-Tik-Klak-Tsn, which meant that it was likely more durable than the MCC, so she had high hopes for its survival. Boone, on the other hand, needed a reinforced hypo-arctic survival suit and even though he had a normalization pack and a breather if that had been damaged then he was done for.

Even Sherman, their sole surviving laborer needed one of those breathers and, despite his thick fur and low temp suit, he wouldn't stand much of a chance in negative hundred degree weather. With these thoughts on her mind, she almost jumped in surprise at the sound of a loud THUMP on the door leading to the exterior of the building. At the same time, the light indicating the interior of the MCC was ready for habitation flickered on.

Shoving her way through the door, the Overseer simply said, "Move it, Doctor!"

She ushered the Voljoi inside before slamming the portal shut and hitting the indicator that would allow those outside to get into the entryway. "Come on... come on... come on..."

She repeated the 'mantra' over and over again, watching for the signal that switch that the entry room was in use. The light remained red. She held her breath and counted the seconds-- one... two... three... f-- and it turned green. "Finally."

Jocelyn watched as all of the lights turned red again, indicating that the room between the MCC's interior and the exterior hostility of the planetoid still had to normalize. The room wouldn't possibly be large enough for a drone bug, a Gen 2 bull, and a human to occupy at once. She wasn't optimistic enough to think that everyone survived, but knowing that at least one more person did was a start.

Would there be two of them? Just one? If so, who survived? She continued to consider the question, waiting for what felt like forever as she wondered who would be standing there when the door opened. Would they be injured? Would they be suffering from frostbite? If the injuries were serious would they survive?

The thoughts continued to run through her mind until the moment the indicator cleared and the doors parted, revealing... Sherman. The large Bull clopped into the MCC, coughing as he reached up and pulled his breather off of his muzzle. A moment later Jocelyn saw that he carried Kyle over his shoulder. "You found Boone!"

The Gen 2 let out another cough before announcing in a gravely voice "Yes, ma'am."

Dr Ibrin stood on his tip toes to pull the face mask off of the unmoving technician. "Is he alive?"

"He was..." the bull began, then let out another round of coughs, "...when I found him, Sir."

Overseer Schultz reached up and moved the edge of her plastisteel mask down in front of Boone's face, then watched as she was rewarded with a blast of fog on it, "He's alive... "Sherman... move him over to a bed."

She hurried to the side of the wall to press a button. Once she did a small sleeping cot emerged in response.

Dr. Ibrin followed the Bull as the laborer brought the unconscious technician to where the Overseer had indicated, and gently laid him down on the linen hammock. The Voljoi pressed him for information. "Did you find Commander Moe?"

The bull knelt down next to Boone and began taking off the technician's gloves and boots, which had frozen solid in the exterior cold. "Yes, Sir."

Dr Ibrin did not appear interested in waiting for an answer. "Well... where is he?"

"Dead."

Sherman took off the second and third pair of Boone's gloves and began to rub the man's pale fingers.

Dr Ibrin scowled deeply, "Then we're down to four... These working conditions are near deplorable and we do not have the manpower to--"

The Overseer interrupted him, "We'll do what we have to, Doctor. In the meantime, pick a cot and get some sleep."

The Voljoi motioned to the set of wall mounts. "We only have two cots, Overseer Jocelyn. We are not even properly provisioned."

She wasn't interested in arguing. "Then take the other cot."

"No. You are the Overseer... you should take it."

The response, she realized, was not based on her position, rather, it was based on her sex, and she didn't appreciate it. "Doctor, I said you--"

Sherman interrupted them. "You each take one."

Jocelyn glanced to the bull in surprise as he picked up the technician and laid down on the floor, folding his body around the unconscious Human, "He needs to stay warm or he won't wake up."

With that simple comment, the arguments for the night came to an end.