I looked across the 'field',which was really a large indoor space covered in mats, noticing the clock was winding down. I looked back, and had to slow to wait for the ball. Three steps at half speed later it came and I snagged it from the air, vaulting over Eric, who seemed to forget I could jump and had thus went low.

A little too low; He was trying to take out my knees.

Home free and nothing but daylight, as my grandfather might have said; an open field and no defenders. Winning touchdown well in hand I sprinted for the other side to make a statement.

Somehow however, Roger caught up to me.

Slower than I was, much larger than I was (let's face it, everyone was larger than I was, so no surprise there) he nonetheless took the optimum angle to from across the field. Likely before I was even halfway through my route he had deduced where I'd be.

He crossed my peripheral vision at the 12 yard line though (why were they even called yard lines anyway?) and came in for the tackle. I didn't waste time, but cut into him and low...very low. One knee was almost scraping a mat low.

That knee actually did hit the mat as Roger sailed over me, somehow managing to hold on at the last second as I spread out
to tip the ball over the goal.

Due to the extra weight and drag however, as well as my small size...I fell one yard short.

And then the structured exercise period was over, and our teams had tied...again.

"Damn mouse, good moves. you almost had me."

He got up, taking his helmet off and revealing the face that caused all the ladies to swoon...some of them literally old
enough to be his mother, if the rumors were true.

"I did have you, till you sat on me."

I smiled to take the sting out of my words, removing my own helmet. Which revealed my own less than magnificent visage. Everything that roger was physically, I was not. Not that I really cared...much.

I was proud that I could kick ass with my small stature; Roger was really the only one better than me at anything I chose to actually focus on, much to my chagrin. especially when, as now, most of our generation was watching Roger smear me into
the figurative dirt.

Of course the vapid cow Lissa was there, batting her eyes at him as usual with the rest of her clique. The supposed best looking
of our generation, with her hench women Carla and Milla.

I didn't really see it of course; sure she was pleasant to look at, but I couldn't help remembering that she was supposed to be our chief botanist and manager of the garden...and only a few months ago she had poisoned half our tomatoes with a stupid, elementary mistake because she was too busy staring at Roger.

You just cannot do something like that on a generational ship. A simple mistake can spell death.

"You're glaring at her again."

"She should be exercising, not sitting on her butt staring at you."

"You can't be working all the time mouse, I keep telling you. You need to relax."

I grinned then gave in to the old joke between us, screaming out at the top of my lungs:

"I AM RELAXED!"

He grinned and made a show of sticking a finger in his ear as we walked to the showers.

"Not everyone has to work as hard as you. You'll never make captain if you can't take personalities into consideration."

"She spends all her time staring at you, you lady killer...which means she barely works at all. As my dad would say, you pull your weight or you get off."

"Well she doesn't have that much weight to pull."

"About ten kilos more than you might think; I've had to re-calibrate her showers' grav plating, I know."

"No way!"

OK so it might have been from her mom or dad using the shower instead of her; who could really say? I can be petty! I'm allowed
too, darn it!

"Well;' Rog said starting up his sonic shower, 'she carries it well; all I'm going to say."

"Can't really argue that."

I started up my own shower, thinking they were kind of made for each other. One was the tall blonde just coming into the hourglass shape her mother already possessed, ripening with a speed unmatched by any other child currently on the ship. She looked sort of like a few of those actresses playing Juliet in the old movies we were all but forced to watch on movie night...and acted like her too, or as much of that look and act as she could successfully carry off. (Not much in my opinion, though she got snooty down to a T.)

The other a perpetually laughing dark haired youth beginning to fill out into a bluff bear of a man. At not quite fifteen and already over average size, with muscle to match. He was the knight, the football hero, the baseball star....the Romeo. He could and did carry it off successfully, without even trying.

Me? I was one part goofy sidekick, one part psychotic action hero. My skin was the color of light chocolate, revealing either an African or middle eastern heritage. (my father said Israeli, which I was inclined to believe.) My eyes were a color my mom referred to as hazel, and said came from my gypsy heritage. (Her side of the family.)

My features were best described as small and large. Small body, small nose, small ears, small hands, small feet. I couldn't seem to pack much muscle on either, though I had the agility of a monkey, and the speed of a cheetah...or so my mom said.

My largeness came solely from my eyes and lips, both features I was a bit embarrassed about. All in all I looked pretty stupid, though mom said that before the ships my look was considered cute by women...grandmother called it "bisho" something. Of course she also said I had to be taller to carry the look off. I was the shortest child of our generation, by 2 cm.

Either way didn't help me now of course. The end result was that I looked pretty goofy, an awkward mix that by general agreement was just not considered attractive. My size did however make me perfect for engineering work, as I was one of very few that could fit in the various ducts and tubes that an engineer needed to access. Add to that my natural intelligence, granted by genetics. The sole reason my grandparents were included on this ship at all, and I was almost a natural to be voted in as chief engineer.

Of course I was aiming higher...I was the one other person in striking distance for captain, being the only other child in the running for the old man's hat, even if I was second on the list to Roger. I didn't see any reason why I shouldn't make as good a captain as Roger in any case, and I knew I had a few supporters by the straw poll that had been run a few months ago. Unofficially of course.

Our current captain, my father, had led Ark 14 (named the Magellan after some explorer or other...history wasn't really my strongest subject.) for 30 years give or take a few months, and was due to step down along with his entire successful generation and go into cryo with our grandparents, the last generation to actually see earth with their own eyes.

Why would a successful captain and parent leave his ship in the hands of a bunch of kids? Even his own kids?

Simple answer really, resources. The Magellan was a generational ship, with plenty of space, manufacturing facilities, and raw materials stocked. But none of it was infinite, and we needed a large population if we were to colonize. Food especially needed space to grow, and a certain amount of resources to be provided. Growing food for 150 people would stress the ship's capabilities beyond breaking.

Sixty was as good as we could ever manage, so of course we planned for fifty. Any extra we vacuum packed (plenty of vacuum in space) and stored with the samples and cryo'd animals we'd brought from earth. Sooner or later, it would get used.

So all of us were trained early, much as the current crew was. We started at nine however, a bit earlier than the fifteen my parents started at. We also got cross trained in as many jobs as we could handle, to avoid any type of tragedy caused by the loss of one of us.

The mining accident a few years ago had driven the point home for the adults. Space is a dangerous place, even with the best technology. Some children however, refused to get the point.

Dressed and on my way out, my eyes found Lissa still wandering in our designated gym...she was perhaps six minutes from being late to her station, and waiting for Roger to come out of the sonic showers. I shrugged and picked up my own pace; engineering station 3 was nearly across the ship, I was cutting it close myself, and I wasn't captain yet.

Even with my access tube shortcuts it took my 5 minutes and 24 seconds to reach station number 3. I popped the hatch to stare up and into the raw boned and ruddy face of the man I knew only as Cargie. I knew it wasn't his real name of course, but my dad wouldn't tell me his real name no matter how I asked. He was our current chief engineer, and as such my boss of the last year.

"To be fair son, you're late. I expected you ten seconds ago!"

"Fashionably late as always, which is to say early by 20 plus seconds. So what's on the work order today?"

He made a show of staring at the messy clipboard in his hand; no doubt he already knew what it said by heart.

"Investigate strange rattle in hallway 1-A; quote: "It sounds like a gremlin is scraping nails on a chalkboard again."

"Again? Isn't that the hall we replaced the fan cowling on last week?"

"Aye son it is indeed. Which is where we will be going, so I can show you something I forgot to check."

I raised my eyebrow as we suited up in coveralls and grabbed our tools. Maintaining a proper raised eyebrow for that long was a talent, but Cargie wasn't impressed by it anymore.

"Oh it's nothing life threatening if I'm right, just a wealth of experience over that turbo charged noggin of yours. You
missed it too after all."

We walked down the A hall, taking the first elevator needed to the correct floor. As soon as we stepped out of it we could hear the scraping...it was faint, but could be clearly heard over the soft rushing of air.

"Is that the vent fan? It is, isn't it?"

Cargie wouldn't speak though, unscrewing the ventilation shaft grate and motioning me to enter. I did so, eyebrows raised again, and immediately went to the fan we had worked on last week. The cowling guarding the blades was brand new, but had slipped a bit somehow, and the fan blades were making the most awful racket scraping against the cowling itself. the fan motor itself smelled a bit hot, but luckily the drag hadn't burned it out.

I removed the cowling and took it back out to Cargie, where he pointed to the screw holes, which looked a bit off to me.

"Sometimes the parts we order come back manufactured a mite off specifications, or too soft, or with other minor flaws. So then we replace the parts, and as in this case, the shifting of the motor itself causes the flaws to become an issue. How would you solve this?"

I thought for a moment, testing the side of the cowling with my thumbnail, then with one of the screws used to secure it.

"Well it seems to be the right metal, or near enough. The holes seem to be slightly elongated. So...I think I'd putty it and see if that doesn't solve the problem. Oh and I'd give the motor an automated break and a good oiling; it's a bit hot in there."

"Good son, good. We'll make a proper engineer of you yet. Go to it."

"There is one other thing I'd do."

"And what's that son?"

"Go check on the manufacturing plant...machine number 37 according to the bar code, it obviously has some flaw."

He stared at me aghast.

"Damn son, that's a right proper job! You want to be on duty all night?"

"If we have to. I'd really hate to depend on machine 37 to machine the proper part or tool at a crucial time and have it
fail to deliver."

He heaved a large sigh.

"Well, you're not wrong....it's just that some of being an engineer is listening and adapting; machine 37 has been out of
true for a good twenty years, but it's never failed to deliver what it's been asked for."

He looked up into my disbelieving face.

"Seems I'll have to show you what I mean. Very well, lesson number one so quickly. To the plant we go then, you lead."

The walk to the plant took a good twenty minutes, with only our boots clacking on the deck plating to mark the silence. The machines that manufactured a large amount of our various goods were located in the center of the ship, in the area of smallest spin and therefore weakest gravity.

Such an area was the worst for human habitation as extended low gravity exposure cause health problems. So of course this was the best place to store heavy metals, raw materials, and the large machinery used in manufacture. Only issue was you needed to tether or tie such items, as they might drift and ruin a bulkhead. That had happened once already, so I was told.

"Hey mouse."

"Hey Claire."

Claire was a real beauty, not a fake like Lissa. Soft brown hair, average height among our generation, a medium bordering on slight build, Claire's mom was the quartermaster, the keeper of all necessities of life, as well as our few luxury items. Some positions seemed to be hereditary, as Claire seemed a natural at her mom's post. She had a head for figures, and a no nonsense attitude I admired. She also dressed down, not wasting her various ration allotments on make up and impractical clothes.

"So what's up?"

"Just here to check a machine; It's a bit off kilter."

She perked up suddenly.

"Oh? which one?"

"Machine 37; the small parts fabricator."

She quickly returned to her normal bored look, and her book. Which had a half naked man on it's cover. I pretended not to notice.

"Oh that one. It's working fine."

"no it isn't, it's manufacturing tolerances are off. Likely a programming bug."

"Working fine, but suit yourself, I'll buzz you in. Mom! We got customers, hope you're ready!"

She smiled at me from the intercom as I blinked at the outburst. Her mother, one Ruth responded in kind.

"Put the smut down and let them in already!"

Cargie and I ignored the shade of pink Claire turned as the door opened; it was just common sense. Ruth herself bustled to the door to greet us, taking great strides as the low gravity beyond allowed. She was an older copy of Claire, looks showing no hint of fading. My father had dated her, he once told me. According to lore, she had been a real firecracker when young, almost the polar opposite of her daughter.

"Cargie and mouse! To what do I owe this break in monotony?"

Claire coughed and spoke up.

"They are here to check machine 37."

"Ahh...that time is it? Alright well according to regs I have to escort you...so let's go."

The trip to the machine took another 4 minutes, with us flying through the halls as gravity became weaker. Soon enough we reach berth 37, perched like all the others, on the outer reached of the core, surrounding the main drive shaft and fuel cells. there was of course, 50 meters of space between the shaft and anything else save the brackets, to help reduce the potential for mayhem in case of a malfunction or worst case, an explosion.

The outer controls of the fabricator were a mess; literally a jury rigged splicing of wires taped together with some sort of black adhesive. My eyebrow came up again.

"It's called electrical tape son, an early form of the nanite paste we now use. It was made from a form of plastic."

"Well, looks stupid. Who did this patch job? Looks sophomoric."

"I did."

"OK I'll bite, why?"

"Make 5 cowlings, of the type we just fixed."

I tried to stare him down, and he didn't budge. Ruth knew something too, but was remaining silent. So I ran off the parts, paying special attention to the window that allowed one to watch the process. The melted metal, glowing a nice shade of red, was poured into a specific mold, which was then spun at high speeds to cool it; we avoided use of liquids, as they could crack the part itself.

I made four more in succession, making sure to note the specifications listed on the console, as well as the process. Once they were complete and cool I took all five out and looked. there had been slight flaws in the holes for screws, obviously caused by the metal grade, which was too base to be used in refined work. Perhaps as high as 2% less steel involved in the process? An easy thing to tell when you saw the color the metal took when hot.

The actual process did not meet the requirements listed in the specs, the metal mixture was too debased. On purpose.

"Why? this could lead to serious faults if used for engine housings, pistons, or..."

"We know son, we know. but we're spacers. We don't always have access to the best of materials, and EVA is dangerous. You have to choose your battles lad, and many times the best you can do is...make do."

"Make do?"

"Yep, much of what we do as engineers is making the best of a bad situation. How long do you think that fan cowling we just fixed will last?"

"Well with the nanite paste holding it to the screws, some time...years?"

"Decades my boy, decades. The first one I replaced that way, at the request of my father, our first engineer...well it's still there. Hall C3, at junction 4, and you'd never know."

"OK I get that, but why this clumsy bypass? and why only this machine?"

"Because this machine is classified as nonessential to the functioning of the ship; it's not required. As to why that matters, well the oddball is why."

the oddball was a gift; each Ark had one, a blending of alien and human technology which oversaw many of the more difficult functions involved in running a generational ship; the navigation, object detection, main engine core cooling, etc.

Without the oddball, none of the Arks could function, as they would need far more people (and space) to function in any capacity. And failing anything else the oddball controlled the small fleet of general purpose robots the ship could field. The oddball also manufactured the more complex nanites and treatments that were involved in prolonging our lives or treating our injuries.

No one currently awake truly understood the inner workings of the oddball, other than that it was, well...odd. It controlled many of the manufacturing, recycling, and environmental (Air manufacture) problems that would take many of us weeks to calculate out. Most importantly, it regularly used robots to repair the outer hull from the myriad of small impacts that inevitably hit us.

Thus saving all of us from a very messy and possibly slow decompression death, multiple times a week.

"The oddball likes everything nice and neat...to specs at all times, everything to it's place boy. There is a time and place for that...but this is the real world we deal in. That would mean more dangerous EVA and more mining than we currently do. While the parts we used today won't last forever, they will last just as long as a fully standard part would.

It isn't ideal, it isn't pretty, but it works, and it works well. The oddball doesn't like us getting away with such things, but the truth is simple; you do the best you can with what you have. Never is there a bigger truth for an engineer."

I thought about it while feeding the cowlings back into machine 37 for re-smelting.

"I understand. But I'll be damned if I'll take any chances on the engine or environmental...barring a disaster of course."

"All we ask lad, all we ask. Now lets make our rounds of the popsicles, and you're done."

"What do you mean done? It's a bit early to be knocking off."

"Half day lad, we old timers are joining the popsicles soon; we put it off as long as we could, but two weeks...you lot get two weeks left to be vetted, captains orders...mine are for you to take the rest of the day off. Nothing on the docket."

"You'll call if you need help, right?"

He sighed.

"I've been doing this job mostly alone for years lad, I think I can handle one more. But yes, I'll call."

Back at the main lock, I shot through and waved to Claire.

"Just casing the joint for the big theft. you understand don't you Claire?"

"Sure, that's when you grab all the ladies underwear you can and parade through the decks wearing it while singing, right?"

"Absolutely."

She rolled her eyes as her mother appeared, giving her the thumbs up.

"Later mouse, enjoy your day."

"Later Claire, enjoy your pornographic book."

I ran before she could think of a suitable response...or shoot me. I waited for Cargie at the elevator, and breathed a sigh of relief when he appeared alone grin plastered on his face.

"Lad, you..."

I gave him my best 'who, me?' look and gestured towards the elevator.

"You surprise me sometimes lad."

"I'm all for having fun, I'm a regular barrel of laughs...as long as the job is getting done."

He shook his head, then brightened.

"Oh right lad, before I forget...we went into zero G today so what do we do?"

"Exercise later, and take our pill?"

"That's right, we take our pill."

I eyed his growing paunch for a minute as he fished out the small tablet container from around his neck.

"you left out exercise Cargie."

"Indeed I did lad; get yours out. I want to make sure you take it."

"I only forgot the one time, sheesh."

The pills were our answer to calcium and iron depletion, zero-g sickness. Humans were not meant to live in a vacuum, and long term exposure to such environments tricked the body into thinking it didn't need to build up muscle or bone, or worse, could even cannibalize it for resources. The pills were our answer for that, a cocktail of hormones, nanites, and raw chemicals designed to combat hundreds of thousands of years of outdated evolution.

Left untreated zero-g sickness shortened the lives of every human to catch it...and on this ship, that was all of us eventually, so we all had them. There were even versions designed to combat the more resistant diseases we'd brought with us from earth.

In space no one can hear you sneeze.

We rode the elevator down to B4...and there it was, another large gym like area, also padded, and lined floor to ceiling with doors, that looked for all the world like those metal shelves in morgues. Cargie had showed me a movie with those once, and excepting that ours pulled out to show a human under glass and a control panel, they looked exactly the same.

It'd be more creepy I suppose if we buried our dead.

At any rate, there were 500 shelves total; 10 generations of service personnel, each one the children of the last, till the tenth's shift was completed, after which the the shifts would circle with the 1rst crew (my grandparents) taking over for ten years, then my parents, then us again, and so on...till we all died of old age or found a suitable planet.

We laboriously checked the readouts and ran the diagnostic on each and every active cryo tube. This would be done at least once a day to each of the 92 full tubes (accidents happen....). these held our families after all.

And in two weeks, I'd be checking all 136 of them alone. My father would be in one, my mother next to him.

With the last one checked and in the green, my shift was over. I waved to Cargie and made my way to the commissary.

The commissary, or mess hall as some called it, was another large area. One part eatery (complete with kitchen, and a cook on duty) and one part place to blow off steam. Old game machines, pinball machines, even a pool table, lined the walls. This was the place to go to blow off steam, and be with ones' peers.

And speaking of ones' peers....

"Hey you two, what's up?"

I walked up to Seth and Joe, both EVA miners in training, both almost as big as Roger was. They had to be, to run all that equipment. One of the few things I wasn't good at. They were also both on my team earlier, as center and tackle respectively. They had given me the opening I needed to run. Both were kind of lazy in my opinion, but they did good work, when driven to it.

Seth answered me first. "Hey how's it going mouse? you're off early."

"Yeah Cargie let me off with good behavior."

Joe chimed in, waving his pool stick; "want to play a game?"

"Nah think I'll try that racing one in the corner again; I hear Rog topped my high score again."

"Heh, you guys need to give it up or get a room or something. It's beginning to get a little disturbing."

"I won't rest till I've beaten him at all video games, you know that Seth. I am clearly his superior, and I'll get him
to acknowledge that."

Joe chimed in again.

"Whatever man, just don't be pissed if he makes captain."

"Why? you going to vote for him then?"

"What? No man, you know you're my man for the job. While the rest of us were goofing off, you were studying. That counts in my book...along with the little modification you made to our suits."

I had designed a modification to the seals the EVA suits used when at 12, I made my first trainer EVA...I Found the type of seal currently used could actually cause the suit to kink around it, reducing oxygen flow. A known problem, but not one I knew of at the time. So I designed a sort of movable seal that allowed the tank and suit to move without reducing the airflow.

The first year, miner production had tripled. Seems not having to worry about their suits binding them up or readjusting them, allowed them to focus on actually mining, spending less time outside for better gain. Who knew?

I turned to Seth.

"Me too man, you got my vote; I happen to think you're the smartest guy on the ship. Even the adults. Problem is, you don't have the chick vote. Like, none of it."

I pondered this. Twenty seven men and 23 women among our generation meant fifty votes, but the women were a sizable block. I could either get every guy (not going to happen, I knew for a fact 8 of them supported Roger...possibly more) or those I had and most of the girls. But I was fairly sure I had at most, one Girl.

Looks counted in politics...most of the time more than substance.

"Well best I can do I suppose is lead by example and hope. Kind of depressing really."

"I hear ya man. Good luck at the game, an we'll do what we can to make your case."

I left them to their game, going to the one I currently favored. It was larger than most, being a simulator...that had a game loaded into it that allowed one to realistically race something called a 'car'...an internal combustion driven personal vehicle...at high speeds under supposedly realistic conditions.

And there, at high score, my name under it, was Roger's name, taunting me. He didn't even know this game existed a week
ago, I was sure.

I settled in and hit start, determined my name would top his before I left. I had after all, read up on the cars mentioned in this game since I played it last, and about some principle called 'drifting'...I was fairly certain this game was designed with that in mind, and determined to put my physics to the test.

(TBC)

I groaned as soon as the ball was released...I could see the arc led away from me and right to mouse. I cut as quickly as I could, leaving Joe behind and calculating my angle...there wasn't anyone between me an mouse, and Leif's throw had been poor, making mouse slow down to catch it rather than throwing it to where he'd be.

Otherwise I'd have no chance.

Eric managed to catch him after he slowed down, but made the mistake of going to low, and mouse simply hurdled him. This barely slowed him down...but it slowed him enough. I was now certain I would catch him, and I lined up.

I didn't make the same mistake, I came in aiming for his gut. But in a way I did, cause the damn monkey ducked under me. I managed to flatten myself and hold on to him, but that had been too close.

the buzzer sounded and I lept off him; I wanted to win, but I was half afraid I'd hurt him. I was nearly twice his size after all. The helmet that I hated for obstructing my vision had to come off, and I tried a verbal sally.

"Damn mouse, good moves, you almost had me."

I winced as soon as the words left my mouth, knowing how mouse would take it. What I had meant to say was 'damn mouse, if you hadn't been under thrown there, I'd have had no chance.' or something similar.

His look soured briefly, and he responded while taking off his own helmet:

"I did have you, till you sat on me."

I grinned, he really was touchy about his size. And his looks. I studied his profile till I noticed he was glaring....Oh right, her. He really hated her because of that tomato fiasco. He was too serious...I mean, she did catch it. Sure draining the hydroponic tank and replacing the fluids was a chore, but the food supply wasn't contaminated, just a few tomatoes.

"You're glaring at her again."

"she should be exercising, not sitting on her butt staring at you."

"You can't be working all the time mouse, I keep telling you, you need to relax."

His grin broadened, and I knew what was coming.

"I AM RELAXED!"

I found myself sticking my finger in my ear to relieve the ringing. Such a loud voice from such a little guy.

"Not everyone has to work as hard as you. You'll never make captain if you can't take personalities into consideration."

Despite what he thought I wanted him to make captain; I'd be more than happy with first officer.

"She spends all her time staring at you, you lady killer...which means she barely works at all. As my dad would say, you
pull your weight or you get off."

I gave Lissa a glance. She smiled and winked at me.

"Well she doesn't have that much weight to pull."

"About ten kilos more than you might think; I've had to re-calibrate her showers' grav plating, I know."

"No way!"

I held open the door as we reached the showers, and he entered first. To think that he knew one of the deepest kept secrets of any woman. Or perhaps he was yanking my chain, as my father would say.

I started my shower before a thought struck.

"Well she carries it well; all I'm going to say."

"Can't really argue that."

Mouse cut loose a small sigh of longing that I don't think he even realized he made. He didn't seem to understand that he needed to deal with people; treat them well or poorly, but at least talk to them.

He also didn't seem to understand that most girls just couldn't stand a man that looked cuter than they did. Why he couldn't see it was another mystery. For someone so brilliant, why couldn't he look in the mirror and see that the painfully thin small looking boy had the features they wish they had.

I mean sure they didn't do much for him, despite his obvious natural abilities.

None dared to tease him about it though; not since Eric. The little mouse was fierce. So far only I could really beat him with any consistency, though with the other guys starting to grow up that would probably change. His family art was really something though. He finished first of course, not being concerned at all about appearance, only being late. I knew how important it was, but I was really trying to blow time so Lissa would leave.

I ran a comb through my hair and left a good minute after mouse, as the other guys were just beginning to come in. They were even less worried about being late than I was. We were too focused, they all replied when I asked. The adults knew where we all were anyway.

Crap...Lissa was still here.

"Hi Roger!"

I nodded politely as I passed. Even Carla and Milla had gone on to their prospective jobs...she really should have taken that hint.

"Hi Lissa, can't really talk, need to get to the bridge or the captain will fire me."

"Ha ha, good one Roger! See you later!"

luckily she missed my grimace. That was a pretty awful joke. I needed a wit transplant or something. Wonder if the doc could pull that off?

You know you're too engrossed in your own inner dialogue when you almost ram a closed elevator. I waited impatiently, checking the time on my mini pad. I had been offered a watch as a birthday present years ago, but I demanded the pad instead. After all, a watch has one function...the pad has hundreds, and is only slightly bigger. Why not?

I stepped on the elevator with a minute to spare; riding it up to the bridge should only take 31 seconds.

The door opened to:

"That better be you Mr Smitt."

"It is sir; on time and ready to work sir."

The medium built man whom I already had an inch on turned, an old hat on his head. Legend and rumor had that hat as the on awarded to a Russian captain upon achieving the rank and getting his first ship, on an ocean. It was white, with a gold emblem on it that I didn't know, and didn't bother to look up.

The first captain had owned it, and one of us would soon.

"We saw your game on camera; good save at the end."

"Thank you sir."

His demeanor turned serious, just like that.

"We need to talk; inside."

He gestured to the conference room off to the left of the bridge, set aside for bridge staff to discuss emergencies. I entered to find Viktor already waiting on us. Viktor was the first officer, and son of the former captain.

"Sit down Roger."

I sat while he paced. Something was seriously eating him, destroying his calm. I opened my mouth but then he spoke.

"As you know, the second generation is due to enter cryo in two weeks."

He looked at me for confirmation so I nodded.

"What you don't know, nor does anyone in your current generation, is that several things have to be aired before we get frozen."

I nodded again, spellbound. He had a bomb to drop, I could tell.

"The truth is we don't have full freedom on this ship; we never have."

"...what was that sir?"

"We don't have total control; we share it. Oddball is as much in charge as we are. It makes decisions based on its own ideas on what is needed for our survival."

"With all due respect sir...duh?"

"No mr Smitt, you don't understand.It has far more input in the care and operation of our little colony than you realize. One of the most important jobs for a captain of this vessel is to reason with oddball, or back it's decisions. You see, it votes too."

Viktor passed me his pad, with a red lettered document displaying. It took me awhile to understand what I was seeing...then it took even longer for the urge to throw up to pass.

"It's serious about this? Oddball really wants our male to female ratio to be even?"

"We triple checked, it's genuine. Oddball wants a girl for every boy, 'to maximize happiness and retain the family dynamic.' and it will take steps if we don't."

"What kind of steps?"

"We don't really know, nor do we want to...I wouldn't put a few accidents out of the picture though."

He had to be kidding.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"It's simple; along with this memo, we got another. Go ahead."

Obligingly I hit the next key and got a second memo; oddball's short list on generation 3's roster. My name was at the top for captain. Mouse's name wasn't even on the list. Oddball had him listed as the first pick for engineer. Without mouse on that list, I had no real competition for captain. The captain knew this.

"Congratulations Smitt."

"Your son is going to be devastated sir."

"Would you like to know another secret Smitt?"

"Sure sir. I am a sponge to the water of your wisdom."

"Ha. Careful what you wish for. Seems the captain, despite how it appears, is not considered the most important person on the ship... the engineer is. The engineer is invariably the smartest, most skilled, most capable person on the ship. The captain falls somewhere around third best, from a skills and yes genetic standpoint. Good genes are very important to Oddball. Can you tell me who are the personnel never allowed off ship, under any circumstances?"

"The chief engineer, the doctor, and captain."

"Yes and no. That is the textbook answer, but the truth is a bit different. I as captain, can in fact override that directive...but only for myself. Oddball will remove me from command if I tried to make Cargie or Dr Songer EVA to mine. Their skill set is just considered too valuable and too costly in time to have someone relearn.

Oddball considers the chief engineer the most valuable human on the ship. Cargie, contrary to appearances, is the smartest person of my generation on the ship, and can fill in or quickly learn any role needed. We can't fully learn his role without years of training. My son has learned all that Cargie knows about the workings of this ship...in six months."

"Which is why he's on the list for engineer; you knew, didn't you? that's why the extended learning under Cargie."

"Yes I knew. I've sat right where you are now. Cargie would be captain otherwise. Now the hard part. I could handle the first memo... but I won't. Consider this your first true test. You're an acting captain; Oddball will respond to you directly. Proceed very carefully."

"I will captain."

"You're dismissed."

"Yes captain."

I slid Viktor's pad back to him in a daze and left. I walked, not even sure where I was going.

I ended up at the observatory.

The observatory was an example of a good idea but bad execution. The room was filled with comfortable couches, facing a huge see through section of the hull, open to the stars. That was of course the problem, as with the ship rotating at varying speeds, the star scape could cause vertigo and motion sickness in all but the most hardy among us.

Especially when you realized up and down were all relative; the stars did not have the same directions we did. I mean
according to earth standards we were all walking on the outer wall.

I didn't take long to crack.

Wandering again I ended up in the mess hall, Just as mouse was leaving oddly enough. He pointed at our latest game dejour
with a cocky smirk and a thumbs up. Must mean he topped my high score.

I took a look. Damn it, he'd doubled it! How in the crap! I fiddled around in it, thinking, and Crashing far too often. After crash number fifteen I smacked myself. Damn it, hate it when my brain clears and I realize I just don't have enough information. I brought out my pad, right there in the game. I set up an appointment in the interface room...Oddball's room, where theoretically anyone could go and ask questions. With an appointment, the crazy thing would even answer.

My appointment was for tomorrow, early morning. I sent a message to the captain informing him why I might be late for my
shift, then went to get some sleep.

It was a long time coming.

*******************************************************

Mornings come, as they always do. Of course I almost overslept, my alarm taking a good 5 minutes of constant blaring noise to wake me. Going to have to work on that...5 minutes could be the difference between life and death some day. As always, I was cutting it close so I just threw on clothes and ran a comb through my hair a few times. I'd take a shower after exercise.

Running down the corridors is never a good occupation for a future captain, even if the people involved don't know you'll be captain yet. But run I did...if I missed this appointment, Oddball would just make the next one in a week. He was a petty machine in some ways. I wasn't sure I could survive a week without answers.

The good news is that it was still early by ship standards, so only two people saw me. Carla, Lissa's friend and biologist, and William, our pilot in training. Neither of them saw me duck into the Oddball's room. Which was good because none of us came here; if they saw me, I'd have a group outside waiting, wondering why I'd talked to the crazy thing.

I only had to wait 4 seconds for the robotic form of Oddball to peel itself from the wall. When Magellan had been built, the aliens (we called them Venusians; it was some sort of joke I didn't get) had helped us create the ship with their technology, of which Oddball was supposed to be the pinnacle; an artificial intelligence decades, maybe even centuries, above the best we could manage.

The crazy thing had promptly decided it needed a physical representation of itself, and with the earth still in the aft observatory view port, created one.

It was white, an immaculate and impossible white I'd only seen here. It stood 2 meters tall, with rounded limbs that looked human, but with visible joints at all the standard bend spots. It had no hair, no eyes, a general shape of a nose, and oddly enough it's mouth was perfect. It was in general, shaped as a man, but had no gender characteristics...and of course it was naked so you could tell.

All in all, the general consensus was that if it had wanted to fit in on the ship, it had done a poor job of it. To further mystify us, the added fact was that the Oddball never stepped this...apparition out of this room. It had never been seen outside. It's baritone snapped me out of my desperate wandering thoughts.

"Good morning Roger, what is your concern?"

"Good morning Oddball, you sent a memo to the captain that has me concerned. I came to ask you about it."

"Are you referring to memo g2-369874? I assure you Roger, you are qualified to perform the duties of captain adequately."

"No oddball, I'm referring to the other one."

"Memo g2-369873...in accordance with directive 7?"

"That's the one."

"What is your concern?"

It honestly couldn't guess?

"Refresh my memory on directive seven please."

One always had to at least try and be polite with Oddball...he took it badly if you weren't.

"Directive seven refers to colony population controls while aboard this vessel. The male population should never exceed the female population, barring unfortunate situations."

So it was saying females were more valuable. Why?

"Why?"

"Conception in space is difficult. Many of the methods of bringing human children to term are unreliable in a vacuum with low gravity. The most reliable method to ensure the colony's survival lies in the female of the species."

Well that's sort of clinical. He wouldn't win any points with the girls, that's for sure. Kind of ironic in a way that the low tech approach worked best. All that growing in knowledge and power and we hadn't escaped evolution's third most elementary action for any life form.

"I understand, you're saying we need wombs for successful reproduction of our species."

"Correct."

"But why do we need an equal number? Surely a womb can be used more than once."

"Variance of the species. All members of the colony were chosen in part for their ability to provide the necessary genetic difference that keeps a population healthy. Also when dealing with humans it has been confirmed that a family unit is most advantageous."

"Can't we artificially inseminate for the needed variance?"

"In short term that might be possible; however such an act could lead to potentially ruinous long term effects."

"So you're saying by the 10th generation we'd run out of couples, because we'd all be related too closely."

"correct."

I took a moment to collect myself. I was shocked I actually understood the thrust of the quirky AI's arguments.

"So you're saying the population was supposed to be equal, in every generation; what went wrong?"

"With reliance on natural means success is guaranteed, however control is lacking. Despite genetic and hormonal manipulation 27 children were born male and 23 were born female."

I was cold. This thing had admitted to openly manipulating our genes in the womb to provide what it felt was a favorable outcome. What else could it do? What else had our grandparents given it permission to do?

"Why is this only coming up as an issue now?"

"Current active population is 94. 44 adults, 50 children. 57 females, 47 males. In two weeks current active population will be 50, with 27 males and 23 females. This is a situation not conducive to the survival or happiness of the colony."

Ahh shit. It made sense, if you were a computer. I guess. It obviously differentiated between children and adults, or it'd have sprung this on the captain before the accident. Sigh, I had to ask, but I was really going to hate myself for it.

"Recommendations?"

"Allow this unit to correct the problem. This unit will suggest personnel to fit the necessary criteria. Hold a vote after personnel selections are chosen, in the same manner. Two of the males in that vote will be chosen to become females."

I caught myself gaping at the thing.

"You can do that? With wombs and everything?"

I was pretty sure human tech alone couldn't do what Oddball was suggesting.

It made a show of looking up at me and I swear I could see surprise on it's non face.

"Of course."

"Any other options?"

"Early cryogenic containment, or the subtraction of 4 males from the population. Neither recommendation is ideal, as either option inhibits population growth."

It was seriously talking about forcing 4 of us into cryo, or murder. I had half hoped the captain was making a joke...but this, this was sick. Even if we were just talking cryo, we couldn't afford the loss of man power so early in our shift. The captain's generation had a hard enough time covering the loss now, with our help.

"Who are your recommendations for these procedures?"

"Those personnel that procedure 1 is most likely to succeed on are still being calculated. If you wish, I will send you the appropriate files once complete. The personnel most likely for early stasis or liquidation are Seth Castillo, Brian Moore, Guido Patrucci, and Ronald Simmons."

So right off the bat, we'd lose an EVA/heavy tools specialist, one of our better chemists, our lone combat specialist, and our astronomer. Completely unacceptable.

"You have another concern?"

I must have spent too long pondering the problem.

"Not at this time, I need to think about the solution. Should I require more information, do I make another appointment?"

"It is not required, you may text me with your pad, using the subject 'G3-c1'. Will there be anything else?"

"Not at this time, thank you."

I knew the machine had thrown that last bit out to force me to be civil. It placed great emphasis on civility...even as it blithely discussed the murder of four people important to the future of our little bit of humanity. But not quite important enough it seemed, as they didn't have wombs or weren't quite the cream of our small crop. I wonder if the other Arks have to deal with problems like this, or already have.

What would another captain choose I wonder? Letting the damn AI have it's way with two people would hardly sit well with the whole. After all, what was to stop it from doing it again if it deemed it was required? Then again, letting the AI kill or forcibly inter 4 people we needed wouldn't go over well either.

In the end it was kind of a simple choice. Let the AI alter two people, but keep their functionality and make them what the colony needed to procreate...or completely lose the functionality of four people, with the same morale loss.

I'd only made it back to my berth when my pad chimed. Oddball had answered me, both slower and faster than I had expected. I felt fairly certain that oddball had people in mind when he suggested his crazy plan, and hadn't wanted to tell me on purpose. My finger paused in opening the message.

What if that was because I was on the list? Could I deal with that?

It would be a relief actually. One less person to convert against their will; I'd do it gladly for the colony, if just to avoid making someone else do it. I thumbed open the list as I entered my room.

My name wasn't on the list.

Mouse's was.

(tbc)

The morning began like any other, rise with the alarm, yawn, go in search of my one vice..caffeine (I didn't care what form it took, I'd eat the beans if I had to) Wave Hi to mom, as today she worked second shift. Dress in my Silk pants and shirt (Silk worms are amazing, low maintenance, high production) and head down to the commissary for breakfast.

Coffee wasn't popular on the ship, so I brewed it at our quarters and carried it along; however my favorite breakfast, pancakes, was...and I knew I could find it waiting for me every day at the commissary. It helped avoid the spacer's worst enemy...waste.

Others liked to cook for themselves, but I hated to waste the time. Besides, cookie did well enough, provided the garden was well tended.

"Hey cookie two!"

"Don't call me that mouse!"

Marion, or cookie two, (daughter of our first officer and current cook in training...whether that role stuck or she moved on had yet to be determined) completed the joke between us with a laugh. She had pale skin and dark red hair that she was forced to keep short. she wasn't the beauty that Lissa was, but she had a pleasant face and an easy laugh.

"I've got your usual right here."

"Thanks Marion, you're a lifesaver."

"you're welcome, we have enough for seconds today if you're interested."

"might take you up on that."

calories were normally rigidly monitored...with the adults busy, some of those restrictions had lapsed it seemed. Oh well, I wasn't in charge yet.

I sat down at my regular table and started in, before my first bite was gone Marion sat next to me. The place was pretty much deserted, so no one would call her on it.

"You should give up that devil's brew...I read that it stunts growth, and you don't need that kind of help."

I flipped her off and continued chewing. Just because she was 5cm taller....

"So, mouse, been thinking. What would you say to a party on vote day?"

Vote day, or more appropriately election day (though none of us called it that) was the day after our parents went into cryo. It was done this way to avoid the parents influencing the elections, even though technically that left a power vacuum for a day, in reality we all knew what to do, and how best to pitch in and help each other.

After six years of near constant training, we had better.

"I'd say it could work, but we should probably wait and gauge the mood of everyone else. After all, it's a pretty safe bet not everyone is going to be happy that day."

I know I wouldn't, I loved my parents.

"All the more reason to have the party. Would you do the music?"

I had a gift of sorts for music. Out of all of us, I could play it. Pick any tune from the database, I could play it live for you. That weird electronic stuff that was comprised from disparate sounds mixed together? I understood it, and could recreate it reasonably well. (One of my favorite music types in fact.) And if you couldn't find it, I could compose it for you.

All of us really had gifts like that, but I liked mine. Marion had a gift for growing plants. Useful, but I preferred mine.

"Provided we actually have one, yes I'll do the music. Hell I might have one of my jam sessions tonight; haven't decided."

"Just the hint of one of your jam sessions sees me here. You better deliver."

As I was about to reply my pad paged me, so I looked at it instead. It was a work order...for the sewage treatment plant seals. Fucking joy.

"Well that's an interesting look. Care to tell me what it means?"

"It's nothing Marion, just another intriguing day in the life of adventure as an engineer's assistant."

"Ahh, so it's either water treatment, or sewage."

I tapped my nose. Of course she knew, we all took our rounds.

"Better get started. If the sewage is turned off for any length of time, the gardeners will scream."

The gardeners were our nick name for the botanists that ran the garden. they used our feces (after it was treated of course)to help grow the plants we ate. Nature's cycle, or some such.

"Yeah true, not to mention with the maintenance cycle half the heads will be down."

wonder why we called our bathrooms 'heads'? Probably some old obscure military term that our grandparents knew. My generation used the old terminology with only half a clue what it meant, sometimes. I wondered if, should I thaw my esteemed ancestors out, if they would know what it all meant.

"Yeah, hurry up, don't want to have to walk 20 minutes to find a working bathroom."

"I'll do my best."

I walked out quickly, dancing to the tune of her shooing motions. The main tank seals were what needed replaced; it was a yearly thing, as no one really wanted crap to leak everywhere. The main tank was under the treatment plant itself, not far from the manufacturing wing, oddly enough.

Which meant one mistake and I'd be floating with poo.

Luckily of course, I had done the same thing last year, under the guidance of Cargie. I'd be solo this time, but I still remembered the procedure. When I reached my station to pick up my tools and protective gear, Cargie was already there.

"What brings you here so early lad?"

I showed him the work order.

"Poo, of course."

"Ahh, must be Oddball; I didn't assign anything. In fact I think the scheduled maintenance isn't for another few weeks..."

"Well you might be right, but it is Oddball after all. He probably detected a a minute leak or something."

A major leak would have been deemed an emergency. After all, even our waste was a valuable resource.

"Word of advice...Don't forget the vacuum unit."

"I'd never. Good luck with the shuttle maintenance."

"How did you...ahh, lad, my apologies. Didn't mean to insult you."

"It's OK, I honestly don't get how you old timers do it."

"We make lists lad, we make lists."

I nodded and waved. My memory was always good, my mother called it eidetic. I could remember everything if I bothered to try, since the age of 3. Lugging all the equipment to the center of the ship through the tubes was a chore, but ended up being faster than taking the long way around.

The waste tank was old, large (a good 67000 liters) coated with patches of rust somehow, and did in fact have a small drip. Luckily, the spill was easily cleaned up with the vacuum, a paper towel, and some bleach. Then of course I got started on the leaky seal. First I hooked the vacuum onto the inflow hose in question, and turned it on full.

Then I gloved up and carefully undid the side hatch, sliding the specially made partition into place (without this, the vacuum pressure start pulling the tank contents out...and I certainly didn't want that). After that it was simple; unscrew the hose, let it float free and the vacuum pick up the stray crap, then pull the seal from the outside edge of the hose and replace it.

I had heard the first seals were a substance called rubber. The ones we used now were supposed to be superior to that ancient substance. A chemical compound shaped into a ring that upon hitting our air for exactly 5 minutes, started to expand. you placed it on, waited a good 4 minutes, and then screwed the hose back on. By the time you were finished the seal had completely expanded to fill any space between the tanks outflow reception and the hose itself. Simple.

Of course they were originally designed to be replaced immediately, but I was trained as an engineer. I didn't want to wait 5 minutes for the stupid thing to seal with poo leaking out of it in the meantime.

I sighed and pulled the partition out. One down, 19 more to go.

************************************************************************************************************

Mouse's name wasn't just on the list, it topped it. There was a percentage of success for the process listed for each candidate, and his was 94.823%.

the next names down the list were William, our soon to be pilot, who scored a possible 73.12% success rate, Regi, one of those people pretty much inheriting a botanist position and sporting a 61.74% success rate. Chen, one of the all purpose craftsmen who knew how to do things like work with wood and work stone with primitive methods, rounded out the list with a 38.23% success rate.

The real story was why they had success rates at all. Oddball had been influencing all of us while we were fetuses in the womb, a tweak here, a tweak there. This was allowed to lower or remove any risk of genetic diseases and defects...but Oddball had taken it to extremes. He had in several cases attempted to control the gender of the child to be born.

The four people listed were those that managed to resist his genetic gender tinkering somehow, and while having been 'adjusted' to have traits of females, had been born male instead. They were also among the last to be born for generation 3, with mouse in fact taking that honor.

The only consolation I had was that because we were deemed children at the time and therefore different than adults, no 'corrective' measures were taken, as such measures would have endangered the children and the health of the colony as a whole.

Oddball was a bastard.

How could our grandparents have agreed to this? This wasn't population control, it was genetic tampering with our very species. I wasn't a doctor, I couldn't make much sense out of the particulars...but I knew enough to doubt Oddball's motivations. Problem was, Ana, the ship's doctor, was mouse's mom. I really didn't want her to sort out mouse's strange hormones and protein chains.

Besides, what if she knew and approved?

I liked Ana...I used to play with mouse all the time, I remembered Ana as a constantly smiling, laughing woman who would play hide and seek and tag with us. I really didn't want to ruin those memories with such an ugly truth. And if I was wrong, and doing her a disservice, what could it change really?

I was fairly sure that undoing the 'adjustments' caused in mouse's fetal stages was beyond our science. It was too widespread. I was also fairly sure that I didn't dare field Chen as a viable name...anyone with a 38% had lousy odds, and would only lead to us freezing or killing someone when he didn't convert.

Or worse, he didn't fully convert. Assuming such a thing was possible. (I was well versed in Murphy's law.)

I had to see the captain, so I paged him. the response came almost immediately:

"Come to the bridge conference room."

I didn't waste time, walking in to see the captain already seated, with a small glass of something before him. He pointed to the bottle.

"Go ahead, I have the feeling we will both need it."

It was rum, a drink from earth. The bottle looked old enough to be from earth as well, sporting some sort of weirdly dressed man on it. I sat down, shoved my pad over his way, and poured myself a tiny glass full. Looking up from the glass I could see the shock form. Then came the frown, much as mine had some minutes before.

The look of utter outrage however probably formed more quickly than my own.

the last look however, was most telling. Resignation. A complete concession omitting any hope of victory.

"With all due respect sir, what the hell!?!"

He looked up from the data, eyes seeming a thousand years old.

"Oddball is a computer Smitts; it views us as parts of the same whole it is in; parts to be manipulated towards the purpose of survival. Our people tried to make it understand how important happiness was to us, and how important freedom of choice was to that happiness. They only partially succeeded."

"I get that sir, but...!"

"No, listen Smitts. Just listen. Oddball presented you three options, that's our freedom. The freedom to choose that our ancestors fought so hard for. All three options admittedly suck, but if you don't choose, or your generation doesn't choose by vote...the choice will be made for you, in the most expedient and cost effective manner. I know, believe me I know, what this is like for you...but I can't make this one for you. these problems...might even get worse. I can't help you out here."

"...I understand sir."

"One thing though Smitts."

"Yes sir?"

"None of us knew. Whatever you do, don't tell Ana; news like this would break her."

"Yes sir. One last thing sir."

"Yes Smitts?"

"Have you ever had a decision like this?"

"No...nothing this bad. Worst I had to make was whether to remove life support."

He had removed it, as I remembered.

"Smitt's, it is entirely likely that the decisions will only get worse each generation. While we are nearing a new local solar system, It may be years, decades, or even a century or more before we find a sun and planet for us. Our best bet is Epsilon-Indi, but that may not have any planets capable of supporting us."

"Yes sir."

"I know, I know, you know all this. The point I'm trying to make is simple. I understand your feelings...but we need Oddball to survive. Keep that in mind that we may be all there is left of humanity. Our happiness is secondary, much as I hate to admit it. If you do decide to take...steps, let mouse handle it. Short of waking the dreamers, mouse is your best bet."

"Let me guess, Oddball won't let me wake the first gen."

"Or us once we go under; only the ship failing is grounds for an early awakening."

"I feel like I need a list of do's and don'ts."

He smiled at me, a wan thing, barely alive.

"So did I, it'll pass. If you're finished Mr Smitts, I'd really like to be alone now."

I nodded, looking down in surprise briefly at the empty glass cradled in numb fingers. Replacing it on the table I beat a hasty retreat.

He knew...he knew what I'd choose. He never called his son mouse, that was our nickname for him, given because of his size and habit of crawling through the tubes and duct work as a child, rather than walking the halls. The captain always called him Mo'ar, his given name, or son. Instead he'd called him mouse, tacitly highlighting the choice he knew I'd pick.

Maybe even the choice he'd pick.

I wasn't even captain yet, and already I hated the job. It hadn't escaped my notice that I was technically supposed to be on duty and yet was just summarily dismissed.

Maybe I was going about this wrong. Maybe I should actually seek advice from the brightest mind on the ship. Maybe there was a fourth solution I was missing, and with a little help, I'd find it. I looked up just in time to avoid slamming into Eric.

"Hey man, watch it!"

"Sorry, heavy thoughts."

I noticed he was dressed in his football gear. Hmm, odd for him to wear it around.

"No worries. Hey you coming to exercise period today? We could use your help."

"Sure, crap time sure flies."

"It's those rusty gears in your head man, they can't turn more than one way...so slow."

"Don't make me hurt you man."

I replied with a smile to match his. He was joking, and I knew it...but he knew if he pushed me too far I'd break him. Eric was the closest thing we had to a pure asshole. At least, if the old movies we watched were any indicator. A classic macho man and bully.

For some reason he liked me, never quite catching on to the fact that I detested him.

"By the way, if you end up sidelining someone due to questionable hits, I will stop playing football. Get me?"

I hadn't forgotten him aiming for mouse's knees. We didn't need people getting hurt and being unable to do their jobs just to salve his ego. I knew if I stopped playing football, most of the guys would too, migrating to whatever game I chose. Being considered the alpha male did have a few perks. He knew it too, and football was his favorite game.

"Hey man, I'll be careful...don't worry."

I didn't reply. I didn't need to.

We reached the exercise room, waved at it, and walked through to see most of the gang here, or at least those that weren't working night shifts. The girls were out in force of course, most of them dressed to please the eye and knowing it, a few actually appeared to be arranging a tennis net.

I secretly approved...and wondered what Lissa would look like in those short skirts favored for the sport. Very briefly, as Lissa was a can of worms I did not want to open. I walked past her with a wave, trying to ignore the way her eyes lit up.

"Afternoon Lissa. going to work out today?"

"Yes, I think my ankle is well enough today. Thought I'd try some ballet dancing."

Lissa had complained of an ankle problem yesterday as her excuse to watch instead of do. She hadn't been limping. Of course a certain amount of exercise was mandatory, and she had greater expectations on that score, since as a botanist she didn't really do anything too strenuous.

Of course Lissa was the closest we had to an accomplished ballet dancer, and the dress she was in made her look rather like those ballet artists of old, in costume and waiting to take the stage.

"Hey Lissa, how are you?"

I took the distraction afforded by Eric to make a break for it and get my clothes.

"Be right back!"

Not for the first time I thanked the ancestors' foresight in using the tags.

When the ship first started off, leaving earth behind...the other Arks were still in communication with each other, sharing problems, solutions to those problems, navigational information, and just plain comfort that such contact brings. The hatches and airlocks of the ship were all open; anyone and everyone had free run of the place.

There were...incidents. No one currently alive knew exactly what those incidents were, but stress and some sort of
space developed psychosis were mentioned as factors. Viktor's father, captain Sergei, ordered everyone on board to be injected with a certain type of self replicating nanite which changed shapes in specific sequences. These tags as they were called, would be scanned by doorways across the ship and those who didn't have the correct tag...couldn't enter.

There were no incidents aboard Ark 14.

Of course what that meant for us today...is that Lissa and her people couldn't enter the men's room. A fact which I was thankful for.

"Hey Rog, how's the bridge treating you?"

He was taking a shower...before we exercised.

"something wrong? Old man didn't tell you I won already did he?"

I stared into his easy grin, cursing the slip of my poker face. He always could read me it seemed, or well enough.

"Nah man, just posed a problem involving Oddball to me, as a hypothetical, and I'm having problems solving it. So why the shower before the game?"

"Simple, sewage tank seal replacement day. I didn't even want to take this.' He held up his zero-g tablet before popping it in his mouth; 'until I was sure I was clean. I take no chances."

How could I have missed it before? How could anyone have? He wasn't painfully thin, he had the slight build of a young girl. His features weren't small, they were proportionate...for a girl. Now that I knew what to look for, I could see it clearly. The girl he could be stared back at me; delicate, waifish...but strong.

And oh so very beautiful. A younger version of her mother. Lissa couldn't hold a candle, really.

And that last thought was oh so very wrong.

"Man, you sick or something? That problem that bad? If it's that bad tell me, and I'll see what I can do. The old man doesn't have to know.

I looked into my best friends face and collected myself.

"That'd be great. See it's about a space 2001 scenario, where Oddball goes off the rails..."

He nodded and I noticed, really noticed for the first time, his swan like neck. He had no adam's apple. I saw it now...we had just thought his voice change was late, and it likely was, but it probably wouldn't get any deeper like mine had.

"...so how would you reprogram Oddball if it were you? What protocols would you use? I mean it's clear we need it, but in that sort of scenario...."

"It might be best to just hope against hope and shut him off if he pulled something like that. I mean, yes we need him for deep space and by twenty years or so we'd be risking much without him; he does so much around here on automation. Ship would eventually fall apart without him. I don't know man, can't think of a solution off the top of my head, that's a doozy. But I'll work on it."

"Alright, all I can really ask. OK you know they won't pair us up no matter how we ask, so I'll see you on the other side of the line. Just got to talk to Lief a sec."

"Sure thing."

The other boys really wouldn't let us group up, not since the last time. Together mouse and I dominated.

"Hey Lief."

"Hey Rog, here to spike my game winning arm?"

"Not at all, here to give you advice. You quarterbacking again?"

"Probably."

"OK...then when you throw to mouse, throw at least three steps ahead of him on the route. If you manage to do that, he'll catch it every time, and I won't be able to catch him."

I returned his puzzled look before he gave in.

"Why tell me that? I mean, it sounds like you're setting yourself up for a loss."

"Maybe...but we won't know if I can stop him at his best unless you play at yours. I don't like to lose, but I absolutely hate losing due to other people screwing up. It cheapens the win if I cant beat you all at your best."

"I...sort of understand that. Well you'll see the difference today."

I nodded in replay and went back to my regular team.

****************************************************************************************

Things were finally looking up. After a shitty morning (literally), and a quick but thorough shower, my team and I had slaughtered Roger's team. I don't know what roger said to Lief to piss him off, but he was an entirely different player afterwards, throwing the ball with reckless abandon, almost daring the other team to pick him...and forcing me to make the catch or spoil the interception every time.

He still threw to Brian and Chen with his customary reserve, but for me he kept pushing it.

I was of course delighted, and rose to the challenge.

The game ended with them playing zone defense in a desperate bid to stop me, and us up 42 to 17.

I ran up as the buzzer sounded and gave Lief a high five.

"Not too shabby man, what did Rog say to piss you off?"

"Said I threw like a girl, all timid and scared of hurting someone."

He replied with a laugh.

"Man don't let Claire hear you say that, she threw a wrench at me a week ago that damn near broke something."

His eyes widened alarmingly.

"Noted. Not someone I want pissed at me."

amidst all the other high fives and great games and other celebratory noises, we entered the showers. I didn't need another of course, one a day was plenty. So I simply changed clothes. I was putting on my shirt when I noticed Roger was staring at me.

"What's up man?"

He shook himself rather violently.

"Nothing man, great game today, guess I shouldn't have mouthed off to Lief."

"yeah you lit a fire under him. Now Eric will try to poach him for the dark side."

"He can't, Guido throws well enough, and likes to quarterback. One word and Eric gets broken."

"Wouldn't really break my heart. Got to go man, impromptu concert tonight. I sort of shot my mouth off to Marion, and you know how she is. Got to grab my stuff."

"Excellent mouse, It's been too long since the last one."

"It was only two weeks ago, idiot. Anyway, I'll think on your problem. If I come up with a solution I'll let you know."

"I appreciate that."

I hustled down the corridor to our living quarters, thinking.

What the hell WAS that?

Roger had been staring at me. With a look on his face that I didn't recognize. Now on a ship this small, everyone knew everyone else, and everyone was friends with everyone else, more or less. I knew all of Roger's looks; we had been friends all our lives.

But that last look? I had no clue.

Probably just gas.

I keyed our door and was greeted right off.

"Hey son."

"hey dad, what are you doing home?"

"I felt I deserved some time off."

Stepping closer I realized he smelled like booze; couldn't recognize the type, but likely not the stuff from Cargie's not so secret still.

"Caught your game though, you played well."

"Played well? Played well? I was amazing, and you know it."

"Careful, your head will get too big for your body to support."

This was not a short joke; he meant that my ego was growing...but I still caught myself bristling a little.

"So dad, was just getting my sound mixing equipment. I plan to do another concert at the Commissary."

"I'll be there. You set up, I'll round up the crew. We'll make a night of it."

"If you want, I'll even play some of that wub wub music you like."

"Quiet you, you know dubstep is good."

"Yeah, well mom likes it too. Counts for something."

To each their own. I knew I'd be playing a bit of everything tonight. Shipboard entertainment was stale under the best of circumstances, unless you made up the entertainment yourself. My poison of choice was music. We had a few other people who could act out old plays, or write entertaining things based on data from old earth.

Otherwise it'd be movie night every night, and let's face it, there are only so many times anyone can watch a Hugh grant movie or movies about British child wizards before wanting to space themselves.

What the hell was magic supposed to be, anyway?

(tbc)

The concert went well; No shortage of requests, from country to my favorite mixes, and a few of my own minor works. Everyone danced according to their tastes, and I played for hours.

I didn't sing unless specifically requested though, since more than a few liked to make fun of my voice. I couldn't sing lower range songs anyway.

Still sang enough to go through my drink of choice for such nights, grape juice. Water just wasn't heady enough on singing nights.

Marion kept them coming...I'm not sure how much of my rationing was burned through, but I'm sure it was a good month's worth.

At least the dinner was communal, and therefore ration allotments were waived for it. A cause for celebration while we
celebrated, as the old joke goes. A good time was had by all, even me as I worked my butt off entertaining.

Towards the end even the night shift got involved, which was a bit crazy. For them it was very early, as in, earlier than most of them woke. People I rarely saw anymore, like Roger's younger sister Jennifer, took advantage of my presence to get some early morning requests in.

Oddly enough, even Eric's sister Brunhilde showed up.

She was a night engineer, electrical specialist. She was also in the running for largest person on the ship, being as tall
as Roger and almost as wide. She had a personality like a bear's was reputed to be. (We had a few in Cryo down in the main cryo hold...along with many other species from old earth...I'd seen it, a huge thing that could likely eat me in one gulp, with claws that could likely punch through steel.)

She wore a set of coveralls and a silk shirt I could likely use as a blanket, and had her corn yellow hair up in a large braid. She always sported a severe no nonsense expression that reminded me of someone eating sour candies.

She also had one of the sweetest singing voices on the ship though, and a healthy set of lungs. You could hear her bellow
tunes from half the ship over, if you were standing right.

"Hey Brun, want to take over?"

"Um, sure, at least till I'm on shift."

"No problem, I'll leave my stuff here, and pick it up later. I'm tired and need sleep, and your people still want music."

"Well as long as they don't ask me to do that 'mixing' thing you do, I can provide. Have a good night mouse."

"Good night and morning people! Glad you had fun!"

I took my bow and ran off. It wasn't really all that late for me, I'd stayed up later...but I was feeling more tired than
usual for some reason. Maybe it was all the running around earlier.

I was asleep almost before I finished going horizontal, undressing be damned.

****************************************************************************************

Mouse was in rare form, answering every request, smiling, playing any music asked for, even the crap he hated. He'd even
pulled out his mini light show machine and was having it do several random things to add to the mood.

Despite this the mood was still slightly somber, as the realization that in two weeks our parent's wouldn't be annoying us
with the country and rap requests we hated.

That they in fact wouldn't be around at all. That our safety net, our margin of error, was about to get that much smaller.
I of course did my part to improve morale, which turned out to be dancing my fool feet off with Lissa, Milla, Carla, Claire, and basically anyone else that wanted a turn.

They all tended to blur together after awhile, which is why I was able to be surprised when after yet another turn with Lissa the music ended and I saw my sister Jen standing there. Where had the time gone?

"Hey bro! Can we talk?"

"Sure, how long have you been here? Am I up that late or are you that early?"

She made a dismissive gesture, shooing away lack of sleep as unimportant.

"Oh I'm that early. Listen we need to talk a bit, away from the crowd."

"Alright, let's go."

We walked out of the celebration and down the corrider for a full minute before she would speak.

"I don't know how to say this, so I'll just come out and say it. We need to be careful, big Bro. Oddball has us on suicide watch."

"...What?"

Jennifer was our psychologist/psychiatrist in training. Her real rank was field medic, but she had worked hard on automated courses and taught herself the workings of the mind. She was unprecedented however, we had never had anything close to a full time head shrinker on board. The closest we got was our first gen doctor, who had a degree in psychology as well. I knew she could under the right circumstances, supersede my command on medical grounds.

I trusted her mind more than most on the ship.

"Oddball has noted our morale as being at an all time low for generation 3; he has kicked in a few of the automated procedures. The tags are being used to track us, the weapons in the armory and various tools are being catalogued, and he is piping in calming scents into our living spaces and work areas, for starters. I told the captain the protocols were activated he said I should tell you. Does that mean...."

"It means I'm pretty much sure to be captain...but shh, you can't tell anyone. It wasn't rigged, but the appearance of it now would be very bad."

"Well can't argue with that. My point is Oddball is watching us extra carefully, there might or might not be anything to it, but he gives me the creeps."

"OK this probably means nothing but I've got to ask; you're not the first person to call Oddball a he, but why? It's an it."

"Oddball is clearly a guy. He identifies as a guy, made a body like a guy's, and thinks like a guy."

"What does that even mean?"

"If you have to ask, I can't tell you. It's just, we girls know. We've always known Oddball is a guy. A really weird guy, but a guy."

I shook my head, unable to follow the 'logic'

"So back to the matter at hand; does this hurt us in any way?"

"Not really yet, though it could. Say for example I get depressed and head to the machine shop. I'll be locked out of it
as having no business there, and then depending on my behavior I might have an antidepressant slipped into my food. If it's you I'll be called in to counsel you. Oddball could even see you relieved if you behave poorly or resist. Certain actions would be open to interpretation on Oddball's part."

"....Well, shit. I guess we will have to make extra sure none of us run off the rails, right? How was this morale indicator scored?"

"I don't know yet. Oddball might have been listening to our conversations, and tagging phrases like 'I'm going to miss mom and dad.' That could be all there is to it, there could be more; I don't know yet."

"Well please, look into it, it'll give us an idea of what we can do to fix the problem."

"Alright. Sorry to burden you. Go get some sleep?"

"Sure. Just one more thing to worry about, no big deal."

She turned around with a wave.

"Congratulations by the way."

"Thanks."

I continued on, looping around till I reach my families' quarters. I was the only one there of course. I walked around the
place, taking in the same paneled floor (plastic, made to look like wood. There was precious little real wood on board, most of that being very old or pressed reeds, like our paper) old prints, pictures and paintings, and battered furniture.

I couldn't smell anything different...but that didn't mean it wasn't there.

I was a long time sleeping.

***************************************************************************************

I woke up still clothed, with an idea floating in my head and the alarm beeping in my ear. This was nothing new, but
it was slightly novel that the idea was actually a solution for someone else, for a problem that didn't exist. Roger's
computer problem had a solution of sorts. The problem would be implementing it.

Shrugging I took a quick shower; my parents were both asleep; the occupied light on their door was on, and it was early
morning. I made coffee and composed the message to Roger on my pad:

*hey man, got your solution ready; it's not ideal, but it could work.*

I doubted the slacker would be awake, but he'd look me up a bit later. I must have really stressed myself in that game
yesterday; I didn't feel sick but had low grade aches everywhere; pulled muscles perhaps. Well no games today; perhaps I'd
pull a Lissa and sit exercise period out.

Going to the infirmary also sounded like a great idea.

My pad chimed; it was another work order. This time it was to inspect fuel tanks 1-20. Fuel tanks 1-20 were for the attitude thrusters on the port side of the Magellan; The fuel was always check each day, but every once in a great while our fuel gauges lost perfect calibration, leading to differences in readings. Therefore every month or so an engineer would be get the duty of checking the actual amount of fuel in a tank, and double checking the gauges themselves to ensure they were working.

No one knew how the gauges lost calibration in the first place; it drove all the engineers crazy. I beeped my confirmation
of the order, and got dressed in clean set of my normal clothes...a tan silk shirt and pants.

The infirmary was on the way so I stopped off. The door opened to my least favorite medic sitting behind the desk. Dirk 'the dope'.

An uncharitable nick name, but Dirk was believed to be possess the dubious honor of the lowest IQ on the ship...for all 3
generations. Despite that suspicion, he was a capable if uninspired medic. He also could manage a decent shuttle pilot score.

"What's up mouse?"

"Thinking I might be coming down with something, or pulled a muscle or something."

"Well, you want a physical then?"

"Nah. Really just want a few pain relievers so I can work. I mean, if it's a cold or flu they will work, and if it's just my muscles, it'll work too. No reason to over think it."

He didn't look convinced.

"I guess...but you said flu, so you're getting a cocktail. Not letting a disease spread on my watch if I can prevent it."

I tried not to let my impatience show.

"Fine, plug it in. I can wait a bit."

"Busy day?"

He asked as he started programming one of the machines behind him, a medication formulator. It was a big box filled with
the liquid forms of all types of vitamins, histamine blockers, and various medications. The idea was to simply plug in the
type of disease or problem you needed treated, the weight of the patient, and the machine calculated the proper dosage and filled a syringe for you.

Dirk couldn't screw it up; no one could.

I watched him type in 'cold, flu, and muscle ache', which would give me a vitamin cocktail, (no cure for the common cold
or flu, just preventatives to help keep the infection minor) and pain relief.

Then he turned to the other machine, and typed 'diagnostic'.

I frowned.

"give me a break mouse, you come in here complaining of feeling sick and pain, and you don't want to get a physical; so you're getting a diagnostic."

A diagnostic was a scan performed with slightly radioactive dye and nanites; it consisted of another shot full of both
substances, and an arm unit over the bicep that recorded the results and broadcast them to the infirmary for analysis. Being automated, it wasn't as good as a human controlled physical, but it was fairly accurate, especially for major problems like heart murmurs or bone breaks.

The bonus was you could get scanned while working; the bad point is it took an average of 12 hours to get fully scanned, and everyone knew you were feeling poorly by the arm unit. Standard procedure to get one or the other though, we took our health seriously.

"Alright, give me the shots, and yes if you must know, Oddball has me going to check fuel tanks today."

"Oh wow man, sucks to be you."

"Yep, you don't know the half of it; sewage was yesterday."

He pulled a face.

"only thing worse is when the water treatment plant needs drained. I feel for you engineers."

"Meh, it's a job. At least it'll be done, and I won't have to screw with it again."

He finished up; he really did have a knack for this, I hadn't felt either shot. The arm unit got placed just under my short sleeve, and beeped as soon as it clicked closed, showing it was working.

"Alright man, all set up. Have as much fun as you can today."

"Sure thing, you too."

******************************************************************

I woke up to my pad chime, and realized I'd slept through my alarm. Dreading the thought that it was from Oddball I cracked my eyes and gave it a half lidded glance. It was from mouse, and he claimed to have a solution to my problem.

Already?

Of course he was the smartest on the ship, but still...I'd not expected anything for another day at least. I had to remember to ask him if Oddball monitored us all the time. I knew Oddball could monitor us all the time...but that wasn't quite the same thing, was it?

I mean, it never commented on some of the stuff it would have seen, like the time I accidentally started that fire...or I'd have been disciplined for it, right? I was also fairly sure I wasn't the only one who had a few childhood screw ups like that. Surely I'd have heard about those if Oddball was doing it's thing.

I also realized I was putting off calling the bridge, so I did.

"You're late Mr Smitts...or you would be if you were on shift today." Viktor answered.

"Sorry sir, and I'm not?"

"Nope, it's collection day; Your turn."

I groaned, more crap. Collection day was a tradition...weekly reports from the various departments. We had long since switched to computer generated reports sent wirelessly to the bridge...but the day persisted as a way to get the gist of how well the ship was running, as well as get grievances and problems aired.

So once a week, one of the bridge crew was picked (usually by short straw) to go around the ship, gossiping with and getting reamed out by the crew. And of course since I was late, short straw was me. Stupid outdated tradition, sigh.

"On it sir."

I rolled out of bed, showered, and changed clothes. Making sure my old set hit the chute to the laundry (nothing pissed them off more than having people wait a few days then hit the laundry with several sets of clothes all at once). I was out and gone inside of ten minutes; breakfast could wait.

(tbc)

The tank recalibration took the entire work period, and resulted in some more zero-g work; the tanks were stored in the center area of the ship in order to reduce the chances of small meteorites and other debris hitting the tanks through the hull. A trade off, as the hoses carrying the fuel were always at risk of breakage or leaks.

Off course since the fuel itself was simply helium, pressurized to high levels inside the engine itself then squirted out under pressure; helium-4 was fairly common anywhere in space, and safe to use. Not to mention all the other uses for us.

We just didn't want to turn on a thruster to maneuver away from danger...and find out there was no propellent in it.

So the end result was I entered the exercise room just ahead the buzzer for it, as everyone else was lining up for football and tennis respectively.

"you're late!"

"Sorry Lief, can't play today; I might be coming down with something."

Well that caused a few frowns...I didn't blame them there, it was obvious what would happen without me. I didn't like the
bench either, but I didn't really feel up to playing.

there were a few other mutters, but all I had to do was point to the arm band and they stopped. More to the point, everyone stayed away. No one wanted to catch anything, an in an environment like this, it was already way too difficult to avoid it.

Suited me just fine, I used my pad to look up a few engine improvements I was working on.

"So, you're sick?"

Never mind, Claire defied convention.

"Possibly Claire, I think I'm mainly just sore from yesterday...it was after all, an awful lot of running."

"Hmm, I don't know, you're not out of shape. Probably flu."

I shrugged.

"So what's that?"

She asked, leaning over to look at my display. I increased it so she could see.

"Just main engine improvements. I don't like the current energy to thrust output of the ion drive, so I'm seeing if adding
some solar power, might improve it. At least, now that we have an increase in solar power; the first engineers notes on the subject are sketchy."

"We actually have solar panels?"

"Well yeah, got a small hold full of the old things...seems they were used on our way out of the home system, then pulled
from their mounts. Not sure why, but it could be the risk/reward wasn't deemed worth it. Not enough light, too much risk of breakage. Solar cells are kinda...brittle."

"Weird. Not the brittle thing, I just never thought we used solar cells on the outside."

"the first gen used pretty much everything they could, even explosive propellents."

"Sounds dangerous."

"It was."

We watched the games in companionable silence, I was half distracted with my project, but still saw the entirety of my team's slaughter...without me to run the ball, we got roasted 10 to 28. The tennis was also interesting, and just as cut throat. Lissa was winning till Claire got involved with a snort, taking her turn.

Then they started upping the ante with each other. Reminded me of Roger and myself really, except without the friendship.

"Hey."

I looked over to see Roger, showered and sitting next to me as the girls broke it up.

"Hey. You probably shouldn't sit so close, I'm fairly sure I've caught something."

He made a dismissive noise.

"If you have we will all catch it eventually, no sense worrying about it. You said you have an answer to my problem?"

"Sure. It's not recommended but it'd work. In the event that Oddball goes murderous or something, we can isolate him."

"What? I thought he was throughout the ship?"

"Nah, he is normally, but the interface room is the home of his main brain, centrally located. There is an actual switch
that shunts his functions in that room. Normally hes set to diffuse in case something happens, so he cant 'die'. But...and
this is definitely not recommended; but if you flip the switch and shunt him, then cut the lines you can isolate him.
Run another shunt to a computer of your choice, and all the decisions and code he uses to run the ship are subject to your approval."

"With the problem being...?"

I sighed.

"Problem is that he processes millions of commands or more a day, and not always in codes that we know. So...you'd need someone like me sitting on him constantly to make sure he didn't pull a fast one, and I'm not sure we have another me. Brun maybe."

"I see."

He sighed.

"Well it's a solution. How likely would it be to miss something under those circumstances that would screw us?"

"Sky high, it'd happen eventually. but if Oddball were going crazy, it'd be the only way to stop him."

"I see, well good work, I didn't even know about that shunt."

"Not many do, it's well hidden, but I actually study the ship schematics; my guess is the first gen were just as worried about a Hal moment as my dad is."

"Got one other question."

The buzzer to leave sounded.

"Going to the Commissary, want to come?"

"Yeah sure, a shower can wait."

I wrinkled my nose.

"No it can't man, you stink. Go shower and change, I'll wait."

His mildly offended look made me snicker.

I waited patiently, waving to Claire and ignoring Lissa; knowing Lissa wouldn't be out before Roger took a small load off my mind...no idea at all what she did in there, but it usually took her at least 20 minutes. I made muttered apologies to my team as they left one by one, which they shrugged off with easy grins.

"So, my other question."

I fell into step with Roger as he came out.

"Shoot."

"Does Oddball watch us normally? How much does it know?"

"Yes he does, and he knows basically everything about us. He's forbidden to act outside of certain guidelines, no matter what we do however. Like the happiness clause, keeps him from spacing one of us if we screw up. Obviously death wouldn't make us happy, right? Or anyone else for that matter."

"I see; any exceptions to these guidelines?"

"Wow, my old man really has you into this scenario. Sure, there are exceptions. There is the illness/injury clause, where if enough of us are down to something Oddball has the right to make decisions to ensure the whole survives as best it can, the mental defect clause...."

"Mental defect clause?"

"Yes, in the event that enough of the colony is determined to be mentally ill, Oddball is given special discretion to take
steps for the ensured happiness and health of the colony, upgraded watching powers, special types of psychological techniques, things like that. Not too sure which techniques, not my area of expertise, but I can look into it if you're too lazy."

"Nah, don't bother, I got it."

"You shouldn't worry about it, in the history of the Magellan, none of these emergency clauses have ever been invoked."

We reached the commissary and with a grin, I took off to our latest video addiction. He who starts the race first, wins...
or something like that. Conceding defeat with good grace, he went to get drinks while I started the first round. My gear
was still set up on a corner table, but I didn't worry too much about it...not like anyone would take it.

*************************************************************************

I had much to think about as mouse scrambled off to add to a high score I already had no chance of surpassing. The solution offered was no doubt the best mouse had to offer, but it really wasn't a choice. How could I put all of us in danger to save two people? not just our generation, but our parents, grandparents, and future generations.

Could I even realistically say two people could balance on a scale against the future of our race?

Secondly, mouse had stated outright that Oddball was always watching. Furthermore, it had already activated one of the
emergency clauses listed in passing as granting Oddball the power to activate special measures...after all, ship wide
depression would count as a mental health epidemic, right?

So what was Oddball doing with the diagnosis?

And third, mouse had called Oddball a he. Like every other female on the ship. He had, in fact, been calling Oddball a he the entire time. Did that mean anything?

thoughts chasing each other like mythical dogs do their tails, I handed mouse his drink. He took it gratefully, concentrating on driving one handed and somehow pulling it off, guzzling with his eyes glued to the screen.

He didn't even crash.

He handed the drink off and continued driving, without a word. I watched for a time, and gathered my resolve.

"So, another question for you. You keep calling Oddball a he; I've sort of noticed a trend with some people doing that. Oddball is obviously an 'it."

"Nah, Oddball is a he. He built his body to look at least a little male, was designed by human male designers at least in part, and most importantly identifies himself as a he. Ask him sometime, see if I'm not right."

"Maybe, I'm not sure I care that much."

"Yeah, it's not really a big deal."

I looked over again, taking in mouse's appearance once more. I could clearly see the girl mimicking my friend, bottom lip firmly grasped by her teeth as she maneuvered the wheel in tight movements so unlike my spinning style. Was that really all it took to be a gender? Somehow I couldn't help but feel that while my friend was right after a fashion, more was involved. It couldn't be that simple, could it?

Why couldn't I go one day without feeling as if I'd been left alone in an airlock with no suit and the cycle timer started?

Mouse finally crashed with a slight mou of disgust, and vacated the machine.

"Your turn...assuming you can handle terminal embarrassment."

"You're on, I've been watching you play, think I got the idea now."

I buckled down and focused on blowing off some steam by beating my rival.

********************************************************************************************

My turn to get the water while Roger played, so I did. Couldn't help but smirk watching him try and fumble around driving like I had been, apparently trying to play tag with every road sign the game produced.

"Hey Ralph, two more waters for us please."

"Sure thing, hey been meaning to ask. When is the water treatment plant due? Some of the water we've gotten lately has tasted a bit off."

"I'll be honest, no clue, and I hope not for a long time, since I've been doing every dirty job Oddball can dig up. I'll look into it though. Has the water tested off?"

"No, all in the green, no contaminants diseases or microbes. Otherwise I'd have gone to Cargie directly, well before now."

"OK, I'll look into it tomorrow, alright?"

"Sure, thanks mouse."

I walked the water back with a gracious nod, waiting patiently. While Roger didn't actually crash, his times were well behind mine. It was enough to make me want to challenge him on the space fighter sims again...bet he was rusty.

"Hey man, what's up?"

I turned to see that Seth had snuck up on me, Joe right behind him like a silent hulking shadow, as usual.

"Not much, just watching Roger here screw up big time trying to beat my high score."

Seth rolled his eyes while they sat down. Joe had other ideas.

"I think you should try to beat ours on the EVA sim. After all it's been a month."

It still rankled me somewhat that for all my awesomeness, either Seth or Joe could top me easily in the EVA sims, just as
William beat me in piloting sims.

"Maybe tomorrow, trying to relax here."

"Sure, you're on."

They both looked rather content.

"So what's with the grins, good day?"

"The first day of suit check week. Easy work while the bosses are still breaking down that comet in holding 1."

We had gotten a hold of a small rogue comet a month ago by simply altering course a bit. Oddball had picked it up on sensors and made us aware of it, the command staff had a small debate and decided to pick it up. Seth, Joe, Arnie and Duff (Seth and Joe's bosses) had gone out with shuttle support and corralled the thing, and we dragged it behind us for weeks while they chipped away at it. It was small enough now that the work could be completed in our largest cargo hold, a safer prospect.

"Anything good out of it so far? Haven't been able to keep up, my own shifts have been pretty hectic lately."

Joe spoke up as Seth opened his mouth, earning him a slight glare.

"Nothing unusual, standard dirty snowball. Some good water ice out of it, ammonia traces we have to be careful around, and some good old carbon dioxide. Some trace methane we can use, though not too much. some carbon monoxide, just enough to make us continue to wear suits."

"well the water and c02 are always welcome. Some methane for the old generators and thrusters couldn't hurt. Not a fan of the ammonia, since it requires a lot of prep work to use as anything other than a base fuel...."

"Yeah you and the chemists will have your work cut out for you soon enough."

"Sigh. Oh well, work never ends anyway, might as well be running a few scrubbers."

Roger wrecked, giving me my turn.

"You guys want in?"

"Nah, we'll wait on EVA sim time. We'll be practicing that, waiting on you tomorrow."

They went over to the game machine in question.

Crap, they didn't need the practice to beat me, but I guess they wanted to humiliate me or something. I started my round in the current machine...didn't take long to beat Roger's times, and I one upped him easily.

However, just as the two EVA brothers switched to pool again, I began to feel tired...very tired.

"Hey Rog, feeling pretty tired at the moment. Care to help me take my gear home?"

"Um, sure. Let's go."

He took one look at me and grabbed my deck and light machine, while I grabbed my guitar. Normally I'd object, but I just
didn't feel like it.

Definitely the flu.

I still made it back to my families' quarters, even with the corridors starting to spin slowly. Roger had to help me into my room.

"You are not obviously not well."

"Nope, not at all, might be sick day time. might need to get someone to cover for me."

"Well let's hope not, you did got to the infirmary after all."

"Yeah shots and everything. Just leave the stuff behind the door, thanks. I owe you one."

I collapsed on my bed, barely hearing Roger leave.

(tbc)

I woke up to find my clothes changed and armlet removed. I was placed under the covers and in my pajamas (black with real
stars as seen from earth printed on them, one of my possessions- Brian made them for my last birthday). I was a bit
disconcerted till I remembered it couldn't have been Roger; he had left just before I went under. That left one culprit.

It's fairly embarrassing to have a mother that gives you physicals; she rapidly comes to the conclusion that it's no big deal for her to see you naked whenever she wants.

"Oh, you're awake, good morning."

Speak of the devil...she walked in bearing a a covered tray of tomatoes and pancakes, with orange juice on the side.

"You didn't have to change my clothes mom, I'd have been fine. Oh and good morning."

"Nonsense honey, I couldn't wake you, so I got you comfortable. You'd best reconcile yourself to stayed there a few days, too. Your physical came back positive for the flu as well as general fatigue. So you're off duty and in bed, doctor's orders. No days of you hanging out late, at least for a few days."

She bolted the tray to the floor next to the bed with it's magnetic locks and shook her head, frowning.

"how you caught the flu I don't know, but no doubt you've spread it to everyone by now. So much work, so close to the long sleep."

Her overly dramatic sigh didn't fool me, but discretion is the better part of valor, so I've heard.

"Sorry mom, it was probably a few days ago during sewage tank seal replacements, you know how those go."

Her gentle bonk on the head knocked loose a smile.

"Not just that, it was overwork! I know how you are, you don't take breaks or take things easy. You've got to learn to, it
ruins your immune system. At least it's nothing major this time."

The way her eyes slid from mine as she said the last set my alarms off...mom never lied to me, but there were times she didn't tell me the whole truth. Like now for example. She turned again, skewering me with her eyes.

"At any rate, stay here and rest. I've got to go do my shift. You are being monitored, I'll know if you leave, and there will be consequences. Have a good day son."

I muttered the usual protests as she left, and then promptly fell back. Just moving seemed a chore, and the food would keep. Sleep was only a roll over away.

**************************************************************************************************

So here I was, an almost sleepless night later, standing in front of the captain in the conference room, one of the few
safe places to discuss Oddball without fear. Viktor was on the bridge, it was just us.

"I decided to tell our current doctor."

He started, spinning a bottle my way. I poured a glass full. So he told his wife.

"What's her opinion?"

"She refused to weigh in."

He took another shot himself.

"Oddball has been busy, preparing the ship for the generational transfer...crew included."

"Yes, I noticed. Any idea what that means?"

Good to know he also saw the emergency clause being invoked.

"That Oddball will brook no dissent. It's counterproductive. One of those choices will be implemented on vote day."

We both drained our glasses.

"I'm going to leave the good stuff in here Smitts, you'll need it. It's in that cabinet there."

"I thought that was a display screen."

"Everyone does, otherwise it'd have been cleaned out decades ago."

"Noted sir."

I walked out, having been dismissed. Completing my shift on the bridge was hard. All I had to occupy myself was the field
of stars steadily growing closer, and my thoughts.

"Hey, wake up Rog. Shift change."

I blinked. Had I really been staring into space for hours? According to my pad, I had. It was now exercise time. I did not
feel like exercising, however I knew I had to; I hadn't done much of anything to day, and didn't want to lose muscle.

"Sorry Ron, at least we don't really have anything to do here."

That led to a question; most of what happened as far as flying the ship was all done by Oddball. So why was there even a bridge crew, let alone a constant bridge crew complete with shift changes? Just to keep us humans busy perhaps?

I was going to drive myself crazy.

I hit the showers, for once, Lissa hadn't been waiting to ambush me. A good thing.

"Hey Rog. How's the air up there in the tower?"

I turned to Seth. Sometimes the bridge was referred to as the ivory tower, not sure why or when that started...it was probably a generational thing. Stripping I picked my favorite stall.

"A yawn fest, like normal. No action at all. How goes the ice ball smashing?"

"It goes well, almost done. Take it mouse is sick? you guys normally walk in together."

"Yeah, flu. We'll all likely need shots soon enough."

Joe, Seth's bookend pipped up from the other side of the room.

"Crap happens. Just a shame mouse is down, we're going to get hammered today."

"You never know, another receiver could step up."

"On our team? Good joke there. Oh well, we'll even things up when mouse recovers and it's your turn."

"That's the spirit."

On the way out, dressed and prepped, I passed Eric who was busy giving Seth a murderous look. Wonder what that was all about. Sigh, sure I'll find out later.

Lissa was a mere 2 steps away from the door as it cycled; if not for the usual L shape, she'd have been able to see everything going on. I'm sure my look mirrored Seth's, all short tempered annoyance.

"What's up Lissa? How are the crops?"

her dismissive gesture annoyed me even more, for some reason.

"Oh they're fine, how are you today?"

"Alright I suppose. What's on tap for the girl's side today?"

"More tennis; I assume it's still football for you?"

"Sure is. The guys can't get enough; I'm trying to get them to play basketball, but so far that's a no go."

"Football is rather barbaric. Someone will get injured eventually, even with all the protection."

She all but purred, running a hand along my shoulder pads.

"Probably, well got to go!"

Once on the 'field' I ran to Leif.

"Yeah I know, he messaged me."

"Good."

"You know, one of these days she's going to realize you're playing dumb on purpose and then you're going to die."

"Maybe, but she hasn't yet."

Eric ran up.

"Let's get the carnage started!"

We accommodated him, and the game went much as expected. The final score was 34-10 in our favor, with the other team getting overwhelmed. It was still a good work out however, and that was the important thing. After a shower and the rounds of smack talk that followed, I decided I'd make my way to mouse's to see how he was. The door opened immediately, as I was on the short list of people that could enter with both parents missing.

"Mouse?"

I kept my voice soft in case he was asleep. due to that I could hear a sound from his room, some sort of tone. Something about it...

"Mouse you awake?"

I stood in the doorway; mouse was sleeping peacefully, but his bed was awake. It was emitting the sound I was hearing, and had a slight blue glow. It also had some sort of small armatures on either side of mouse's head. These quickly retracted back into the bed's headboard, and the sound stopped.

"Mouse, you OK?"

He sat up, obviously groggy.

"Roger you bastard, what time is it?"

"Almost five. How are you?"

"I feel a bit better, just hungry. Good, it's still here."

He started shoveling food into his face from the tray next to him. I decided on a little white lie.

"You still look like crap man."

"I still feel it, just less like it than this morning."

I sat there watching her clean the tray. what could I say? Hey mouse, did you know your bed was doing some weird funky thing to your head? For all I know, it was some sort of medical device...I don't remember my own medical training covering it, but I had hardly been trained in everything.

Somehow I didn't think so, however.

"Your team got slaughtered again, though Leif was throwing beautifully."

"Yeah kind of expected that. Oh well, the team will get revenge soon enough. Well since I'm up, I've got some reading to do; you mind?"

"Um, yeah sure. Have fun with that."

He was in a hurry to see me leave and for once, I had bigger concerns than why that was. I left in a hurry.

*****************************************************************************************

As soon as Roger left I flopped back. I didn't feel bad or in pain but...tired and wrung out; my muscles were still sore. Sleep wasn't long in coming back for a rematch, but like before, the dreams were weird; more like memories.

A young me running around the ship, laughing, playing with the various builder's set toys we all used was fairly normal. The fact that I happened to be in a dress however wasn't. I..sort of remembered that day; I was 6 and Claire wanted to play house with Roger and I, and she wouldn't take no for an answer. So I was dressed in one of her few dresses, and played the baby girl.

Not one of my prouder moments, and I remember being a bit angry through out the day...and about the pictures mom took.

The day I could no longer be allowed in the bathroom with mother, and how desolate I felt.

All the plays where I was somehow roped into the female roles, the others citing my small stature as an excuse; me delivering my lines perfectly as the female leads' friend or maid or whatever, while Lissa the leading lady tried to veil her anger.

The time I got into mom's make up, well before the dress incident.

And more of the same, all melding together. Very odd dream, some of these memories I hadn't thought of in forever...so why were they coming to the fore now?

The last one however, was what had me wake up in a cold sweat. It was obviously me, same face, same body. But this person who phased into being in front of my dream eyes like a mirage had vibrant, laughing eyes and an easy smile. She also wore a rather beautiful dress much like one my mother owned, a dark red number that set off her budding curves exceedingly well. Her laughter chased me into consciousness.

"How do you feel honey?"

The vertigo involved in seeing my mom's face a handful of centimeters from mine nearly overwhelmed me for a moment, then it was gone. After all, dream me and mom didn't look anything alike really. I knew how ugly I was.

"Fine mom, hungry again. Still no energy. Otherwise just fine."

"Hmmm."

She gave me another old fashioned check up in silence, daring me to say anything about it. I wasn't stupid.

"Well the lack of energy should pass, you seem fine otherwise. Might even be able to return to work tomorrow. I'm guessing you have the shot to thank for that."

She was all about an ounce of prevention being worth more than a pound of cure. Archaic measurements as I understand it.

Mom replaced trays and gave me a stern 'eat it or else' look. More oranges (must have cost her half her rations for this many)and some carrots, and a big serving of tofu. I wasn't a fan of tofu really, and mom knew it. but it was healthy and filling, so what I liked at the moment didn't matter.

While eating I picked up my pad from where I left it and started working once more on the ion discharge coefficients.

"What are you working on?"

"A way to increase output of the engines. I think I can get a good 10 to 12 percent in raw speed, getting us to the first location a good few months faster. With any luck, you and dad won't need to stay in cryo as long."

She knew me.

"What are the drawbacks?"

"Well with more acceleration comes more braking. Overall it saves time, but I don't think we want it used in system, the we'd spend too much time braking for us to achieve maximum speed. It might actually prove too fast for our sensors, leaving us blind to our front. I'll check that though before I enact the plan."

"See that you do. I have some reading to do myself, I'll be right in the next room should you need me."

"OK mom. I'll call if I need you."

I was torn...I wanted to spend time with her, I did....but what if I could shave a good year or more off the time they all spent in cryo with this? Risk versus reward. Ahh heck with it.

"Mom?"

"Yes honey?"

"There is something I need your help with?"

"what's that honey?"

"Bring your pad in here, I need a butt to kick in Tetris."

My mom, was a Tetris freak. I wasn't much, but she loved it. She burst back in with a big genuine smile. She wasted no time
plugging her pad into mine.

"We'll see. Unless you've improved or I fall asleep, I don't see you beating me."

I didn't, but we had a lot of fun.

(tbc)

I woke to the sound of the alarm, as always. The difference today was, for the first time in my life, I woke up alone. Yesterday, after one last shift my parents had gone into cryo along with the rest of generation 2. Today would be the first day Generation 3 had complete control of the ship, and tonight would see the votes.

I'd made peace with the fact that I wasn't going to make captain, Roger was already leading our generation in all but name. I still couldn't get why I wasn't trusted with it, but I couldn't deny the reality anymore. I was going to be the engineer. No one else wanted the job, and I was smart enough.

Well I could make first officer, but I considered that unlikely. That honor would likely go to Siegfried, a jack of all trades sort who could fill in as needed for just about anyone, if not quite as well as a specialist. I was better at that, but also a much better engineer. I wouldn't trust Seig to tweak the engines at all.

Showered and dressed I headed to my post, taking note of the red lit doors in the habitation ring...the sign of those still sick with whatever I'd caught. There weren't many thankfully enough. As predicted the wave of sickness had passed through, hitting about half of us in total. most were only sick with a mild flu, gone in a day like mine. A few, like Roger and William, had
been hit much harder, the flu causing a fever that went so high we almost lost them both.

I still felt guilty; both had pulled through pretty easily, though in Roger's case, the fever was briefly high enough to cause hallucinations. It also apparently caused some memory loss. Apparently A fever high enough could short circuit short term memory, who knew? He didn't even remember visiting me that day. Luckily, it wasn't anything worse.

I made it to the engineer's station, unable to stop a sigh as I noticed Cargie's tools. Tools were too valuable to pack up, so someone would end up using them. Maybe even myself, but I couldn't help but feel the loss. He had so much more he could have taught me, I was sure.

While today was a slated day off for everyone, officially one of our few holidays, an engineers' work was never done. That and work was a good way of taking my mind off how alone I felt without my parents. I'm sure everyone else was feeling the same. I set the station up to monitor all the processes I could and set the alarms to route to my pad. Then I headed off to do the real job I wouldn't miss a day of, saving death or disaster. Especially now.

I went to check the sleepers.

Sure it was a bit early in the day to do it, but it was really my only duty today, so why not? Our parents were really hardly frozen yet. They had gone into cryo just last night. But still, the check was supposed to be performed daily, and the others had been frozen longer. Then I guessed I could try and convince the EVA crews (Seth and Joe in this case) to check the solar cell mounts to make sure they were intact.

I had wanted to get all that squared earlier, but between the various illnesses of other people and the last minute head cramming sponsored by Cargie I had been busy. It didn't help that The EVA crews were getting the same treatment and were cracking an ice cube as well. Sure it was finally done, and with some nice bonuses gained, but I couldn't get any attention for over a
week! So annoying.

Each cryo tube checked (hours later...it took awhile to personally check each one) I sat in the commissary with the rest of my shift, many of us looking as vaguely shell shocked as I felt. Yesterday as a last goodbye, Cargie had showed me something we all knew he had, but didn't know the location of...his still. He had even handed me his booze recipes. Today the booze that
had been stored in that room was being freely distributed in the commissary; I had brought it all down in a cart and gave it to Marion for today.

It had taken two trips.

"Hey Marion, can I get some of that vodka?"

"Oh is that what that stuff is? Sure."

She passed it over and I took a sip. It was decent, tasting faintly of apple. A cut above the regular stuff Cargie made, which you could clean a ship's hull with.

"Take it easy though mouse, it's still a bit early, don't want to pass out before the votes."

I pointedly took another sip and watched her face harden.

"I'm fine, this is the only one I want for the next couple hours. I'll be stuck playing songs soon enough anyway."

"True. Even the other shift will be here, sleep schedule be damned. Don't think you'll have any choice in the matter."

I watched her hang up various party decorations. they were made of cloth and old, faded and tired looking. They had been packed along with other rare supplies of esoteric nature...when the Magellan first flew out of earth orbit. they had been used for every party situation in one form or another ever since. Many of us had seen at least a few of them every birthday.

"Want help?"

"Nah, my job. Well, pretty sure I'll get tapped for it in any case."

"Well you have my vote in any case."

"Thanks. Can't hurt. Pretty sure no one else really wants the job though."

Hmm, something we shared.

"So, nothing much going on...want to play some pool before the table gets camped by the EVA bunch?"

"Sure."

---

I woke to the first day of the rest of my life, still having no clue what to do about one of the worst decisions I'd ever face. I certainly had trouble imagining worse. The flu had laid me up for several days, a terrible case that cause me to see plaid bears rampaging through the ship, gumming all before them with cotton teeth. Plus There were two days I couldn't remember.

Ever have that nagging feeling you were forgetting something really important?

I had it on stimulants. The old security footage I saw didn't give me a clue at to what it was either. I'd backtracked all available footage from those days and found nothing. I even asked mouse, and he could find nothing odd either. This morning, like the last several, I shoved it out of my mind. Some morning tea and a roll grabbed on the go, and I was on my way to the bridge.

It may be a day off, an official holiday even, but I wouldn't really be able to celebrate well without knowing how the ship was. If I could celebrate at all in any case. The bridge was empty of course, being run completely on automatic pilot. I routed the various alarms through my pad and sat there, nibbling and thinking. Staring at the slowly revolving star scape was strangely
soothing.

We were on course and our ETA till we hit our target system was still over a year. None of us had ever seen a planet with a naked eye. We'd seen plenty of images of planets, but I doubted it would be the same. It was rather humbling in a way how much and how little humans were needed to run this ship; neither could really run without either, but one side clearly had far less pull than the other. Or was that even true?

Didn't humanity decide the rules by which the colony ships operated in the first place? Oddball didn't decide the population disposition... the people who sent the Magellan into space did. Oddball was only deciding the means by which it happened, and making the crew complicit in it. The solution was well and truly the rock and the hard place.

I couldn't stop the sigh as I left the empty bridge. I knew where everyone would be...misery loves company, and where else to go but the mess hall? I filtered in to find the tired looking decorations already up and most of the new official crew already here... and drinking. How in the hell were they drinking, the stores of booze weren't supposed to be big enough for that anymore. Alcoholic beverages were few and far between anymore.

Certainly not as big as having say, the entire back end of the old bar filled with bottles. All old liquor bottles of various types but with printed labels on them. Written in a sloppy hand I recognized.

"Mouse, what the hell?!?"

"Oh hey Rog. How you doing?"

"I'm a little confused. Cargie made booze?"

His reply was mystifying. He shrugged and slid a small glass my way.

"It's a time honored tradition for the chief engineer to run a still, so I'm told."

I knew there was a still somewhere, we'd have run out of alcohol otherwise. But this amount spoke of a large operation, using ingredients from our food supply.

"Says who?"

"Cargie of course."

"And he showed you where it was? You got all this from his hiding spot?"

Mouse made a show of looking insulted.

"Of course; gave me his recipes and everything."

I loomed over him as best I could.

"Show me."

"No can do Rog. The captain is never to know where the still is. It's one of the rules. And you are front runner to be captain."

Sigh, didn't he understand stills were dangerous? Or was he just a bit angry I was getting the job he wanted?

"Don't get all stuffy on us, just enjoy. It's good stuff, right Marion?"

Marion nodded as I picked up the glass and took a sniff. It was vodka, with a hint of apple, and it went down smoothly.

"Good stuff, Cargie knew what he was doing."

Mouse nodded.

"But you don't I bet and I don't want you blowing yourself up."

A rude snort was my only response.

"Sorry, my dad let Cargie do it, the first captain let their engineers do it. you'll just have to suffer through. However, I can promise you that I'm taking no chances. I won't get blown up, nor will the ship."

I tried to stare a hole in him, but he just downed his own drink with a shrug. Sometimes I wished I was at least a little intimidating. He clapped me on the back.

"Relax, relax! Eat drink and be merry, or something. This is supposed to be a party."

He frowned a bit when Marion sunk the eight ball, winning that round of pool.

"Up 2 to 1 mouse, you're going to get embarrassed today."

"Looks like it. Just can't seem to line a shot like I used to. Too much football maybe."

He racked them up (loser always sets up the next game...an old tradition) and Marion broke.

I shook myself, clearing the image of two young ladies playing pool. Miss mouse was still with me in my head and going strong.

"I've got next game."

"Sure, you get the winner."

Marion grinned.

"That will be me."

It was, so Mouse went back to run the bar for the new arrivals still streaming in while Marion did a pretty credible job of kicking my butt. I turned from Marion sinking the eight ball on me to find Seth already reaching for my cue.

"Tough luck on the 5 man, you almost had her."

"Yeah, maybe. Good luck yourself."

He gave a grin as I moved past.

"Hah, I don't need luck, I run this table."

I vaguely heard Marion give some snide reply, but I was focusing in on a source of trouble. Eric was at the bar, gesticulating wildly with his voice beginning to rise.

"Problem?"

Mouse answered me as Eric quieted, his face a nice purple shade.

"Just manning the bar here. Eric wanted a full bottle of the sour mash, I told him he could have it a glass at a time, like everyone else."

An understandable attitude. Most people here had only a passing familiarity with liquor in any case, never having such a glut of the substance. Seeing this amount of alcohol would certainly encourage someone's worst instincts to binge drink, and Eric was a known troublemaker. Part of the reason I wanted the still, while I couldn't every well take back this booze delivery, I
could prevent future ones.

The other reason is of course, it would be all too easy to use a still once the inevitable happened.

"Just let me have the bottle, it's not like you don't have several."

"Magellan's charter is pretty clear Eric. No hoarding of any resources. Why do you think I brought all this down in the first place?"

A clue, the still is up somewhere, the higher decks. Eric took his glass with poor grace, spilling some liquid across the bar as his face turned apoplectic.

"You fucking bitch. You'll get yours."

Uh oh.

Mouse was across the bar almost before I could grab him, and was twisting in my grip like a live current wire.

"The fuck did you call me?!?"

"No mouse, not today. Kill him tomorrow."

Eric retreated with a mocking laugh. Though he did move rather fast, perhaps not wanting another beating like the last one a few months ago.

"That's it you're cut off you shitbag! Enjoy that last drink!"

Next I knew Marion was at the bar, whispering into Mouse's ear.

"I don't care Marion, hes an asshole."

"Yes he's a cut off asshole, more whiskey will just make him worse. Why he wants to cause trouble now of all times is beyond me."

"He's an animal, and now that the adults are gone he's trying to make himself look big."

I cleared my throat, and they both looked.

"I can let you go now, right?"

"Sure. I won't hospitalize him yet. Going to go get my gear."

"Need help?"

Marion asked beating me to the punch.

"Well I won't turn it down. Rog you got the bar?"

Marion skid behind mouse, pointed to the stash, and winked.

"Sure, I can tend bar. Just be back soon, the natives look restless."

So Marion had more faith in my ability to stop potential issues involving this booze than in hers. Interesting.

---

Marion walked with me while I cooled off, shooting concerned glances at me when she thought I wasn't looking.

"You're going to have to get over that mouse."

"Oh? not going to let some jackass call me anything he wants without challenge."

"Maybe not, but he's much bigger than you are, and getting bigger all the time. Next time he may beat you."

hmm, possibly but I wouldn't lay odds on it.

"Win or lose, I'll make him bleed."

"Probably, but if he wins what will he do to you?"

I shrugged.

"Likely just beat me up. Not even Eric would likely do worse to someone who services the ship directly."

She said nothing else but her face spoke volumes for her. She really thought the worst of Eric. This would bear some investigation; normally such feelings didn't occur in a vacuum.

"OK here we are."

I let her in and grabbed the heavy deck and computer, letting her take the guitar. Who says chivalry is dead? I snorted; it was only through fairy tales mom read me that I knew what chivalry was.

"you drop that guitar I own your commissary."

"Hah! You want it you can have it."

We made it back and I plugged the deck in in silence, Marion as always watching with interest as I turned the deck on and made sure of the controls and connections. All was set so I fired it up, and launched right into Marion's favorite song, a variation of an ancient piece by a composer named Heidyl.

She danced away rather quickly, a large smile on her face. I caught sight of Roger tending bar; he gave an exaggerated sigh which of course no one could hear. then I promptly got mobbed with requests, and very busy.

It was hours later before I got a break, caused by the old half forgotten screen hidden in the far wall sliding out and securing itself to the wall diagonal to it. Securing itself and monopolizing that corner. With a burst of static (which we could now hear since as soon as I saw the screen I cut the music) the 'face' of Oddball jumped to life upon it. The synthesized voice
burst from the speakers almost painfully before it toned itself down.

"Greetings crew of the Magellan. Tonight in accordance with law and charter, we will now vote for positions on the crew roster. Please vote for those you think best suited for each job."

A bunch of small desks popped out from the far wall, with old dusty curtains dropping down from the ceiling. Pads built into the desks lit up...you could see the faint glow through the curtains.

"Please no electioneering at the polls. Please no demonstrations at the polls. Any attempt to write in an invalid candidate will be uncounted. Please vote as your names are called. Order is random. Thank you."

The first 10 names were called, but none were mine. I pondered how many people knew what electioneering actually was out of my generation while I waited. somehow I doubted it was all that many. I was called in the next wave, and had to thread the crowd. I got into the last booth occupied, and settled in with my body blocking the pad. Some niceties had to be observed.

the vote itself was a series of 50 questions like: 'who is your choice for captain?', one question at a time. I suppressed a sigh as my name didn't come up for captain, instead choosing Roger (I really didn't think Marion would make a good captain, though her name on there was a surprise). I chose Seig for first officer, and abstained for engineer. It was just mine and
Brun's name for that list after all, and it was considered bad form to vote for yourself.

There were few other surprises; Lissa was in charge of hydroponics (a slight surprise), Leif had managed to secure an engineering slot (mechanical, very much a surprise). Other than that the vote was pretty much what I expected. Guido was the only name up for security, Claire was the only real choice for quartermaster (I refused to count Milla, that harpy brown noser friend of Lissa) and Dirk was the obvious choice for medic. It took me less than 10 minutes to breeze through the entire 50 people. After tonight we would all have official positions and ranks.

Of course with the vote done we could now either party or leave. I intended to stay for the results but nothing else. With the ease of long practice, I had everything packed up and ready to go by the time the voters were finished and the results posted. There I was, 3rd down, the new chief engineer with 44 votes. Kind of troubling, I knew I didn't vote for me, but that meant there
were 5 other people with no confidence in my abilities. Roger's vote was unanimous. Of course that meant I could tease him some for voting for himself, but it was still a bit disheartening.

Only other person to get 50 votes for anything was Marion. Lissa by contrast, only got 38 votes to be chief botanist. that was kind of laughable, and the look on her face was priceless. I knew I'd be pulling it up from the security feed later. Well my work was done....

"Warning, emergency vote required. Please report to the cafeteria."

Or maybe not, I and a few others of like temperament stopped filing out, and waited.

"Emergency vote G3N1 concerns a violation of population controls. Please vote for the choice you prefer. Please vote as your names are called. That is all."

Population controls? what? we were at the limit population wise, 50. Unless someone had died or had unlicensed children hidden somewhere, there shouldn't be a vote on population yet.

"Anyone know what's going on?"

lots of murmurs and shaking heads assured me most didn't. Some seemed to have an inkling though. I picked out a likely target and repeated my question to Roger's sister Jennifer.

"Hey Jen, what's going on?"

"I think it has to do with the population disposition mouse. Too many guys."

"What difference would that make exactly? I mean couldn't we just have a few families with a few more children?"

She leveled a mild glare at me for a moment.

"I'm going to assume you're not trying to anger me. To answer your question, I have no idea; but something here smells foul."

Not sure what I said to piss her off I just nodded. I waited with her, and the first ten came out. My name wasn't called yet but I advanced anyway. Lief was in that first ten so I approached him first.

"Hey man, what was the vote about?"

His eyes slid away and I was reminded of the time when he was 8 and ate an entire batch of cookies meant for the all of us by himself.

"Sorry mouse, can't say. You'll be in there soon enough."

Odd. Very odd. I looked at the rest of those who'd just voted.

"Anyone here want to explain to me what is going on?"

They all just stared and fidgeted. What was worse, the ones coming out were doing it too, those that weren't looking guilty as Leif did. They weren't staring at anyone else either that I could see. So somehow this was about me. An emergency population vote about me specifically in some way. Weird, I hadn't killed anyone or anything.

With each successive person called my anxiety ratcheted up another notch. None of them would look at me; at least not the ones who were friends or neutral towards me. Eric was downright insufferably ecstatic when he came out, his large smile almost obscene in context. I was about to pay him a visit when the last 3 people were called all at once. Chen, William, and myself.

I'd long since noticed that when Oddball had a vote that affected someone in particular, the random calls to vote always seemed to include them last. My father had admitted he had noticed as much before, and claimed the reason was to prevent a riot. Hard for the people involved to start trouble if they didn't know what was going on, and afterwards with the situation resolved it was easier to deal with them.

Not sure how that helped here, since I really had nothing in common with either Chen or William as far as I could remember. I shrugged as the crowd parted for me, murmurs blending together to form an unidentifiable white noise, even after I went into the voting booth. I read:

'Emergency vote: population control.

In accordance with Directive 7, all populations of males and females per generation must be equal. To provide stability, happiness, and proper maximized breeding potential in accordance to Magellan's colony charter. For a complete list of Directive 7 and all amendments pertaining to it, please click the link provided.

This vote is necessary to decide a proper course of action in light of Directive 7, as pertains to generation 3. Please vote for one of the choices provided. This vote is anonymous.'

Oh, shit. We had 4 more men than women. I quickly tapped the link. There was an amendment in place for both death by natural causes and accidents...so at least we didn't have to kill our own to make things even if we lost people. Hmm, both were voted on and passed by the previous generation. This seemed like a rather large oversight.

I really didn't want to vote on who had to die. Wait had my own friends voted on my death? That didn't make sense, this had to be a planned vote, why nominate me engineer then space me? Why nominate William our ship's pilot then space him? They may not be the most important jobs on the ship, but ships pilot and chief engineer were important enough not to waste a vote on.
Oddball wouldn't be that inefficient, our names wouldn't even show up. I navigated back to the vote itself, looking for my name.

'Choice 1: liquidation of non-essential crew.
Seth Castillo
Brian Moore
Guido Patrucci
Ronald Simmons'

And there it was, euphemism and all. the death of 4 men, two of which were friends of mine. My name wasn't here, but I could see why people who would vote for this choice wouldn't meet my eyes. A quick bit of mental calculation found those losses to be unacceptable. Just losing Seth alone from a logical standpoint crippled us, and forced one of us to take on double duty in
many situations. I really didn't trust Joe to be able to hang the solar cells on the outside of the ship without Seth for example. and quality of life would suffer greatly without Brian.

'Choice 2: Cryogenic stasis of non-essential crew.
Seth Castillo
Brian Moore
Guido Patrucci
Ronald Simmons'

Well that was a bit better, still left us drastically short, but it at least didn't advocate murder. Pretty much would be the same thing though. While we could afford the loss ('on paper' as the old saying goes) it would be a tough few years. We were already taking over a bit early, not all of us were as cross trained as we should be. Add to that that at least two of those on
the list were some of our cross trained personnel it would set us all back further.

'Choice 3: Conversion of 2 males to females.
Mo'ar Zamir
William Spets
Reginald Crawford'

...Whatthefuck?
I mean really, whatthefuck?

Oddball was talking about making two guys girls? How the hell would that even work? And MY NAME was on this list? A memory hit me from left field, of a saying my mother had when she wanted to get out of a situation she didn't like.

Check, please.

There was always a fourth choice to any vote, added due to something mom called a 'hippie'; a conscientious objection. I clicked it and walked out into stares that seemed to form a physical wall. All of them with passive faces and hard eyes, people I'd known my entire life...and I knew.

"Oh you fucking bastards!"

Will and Reggie closed ranks with me, we had been the last to vote. I headed through the crowd, staring them down or shoving them out of the way if they wouldn't move, the other 2 possible condemned in my wake. I spotted Eric again and my hair thin composure almost snapped...The ass was grinning ear to ear now, so wide I thought the top of his head would fall backwards. I went back to my deck and inhaled the rest of my drink.

To hell with packing up, I was out of here.

The screen flashed with the results before my third step, and the entire rapt audience saw:

-Results-
Choice 3 - 42 votes
Choice 2 - 6 votes
Choice 4 - 2 votes
Choice 1 - 0 votes

-Personnel chosen for choice 3 procedure-
Mo'ar Zamir
William Spets

Thank you for voting!

Then the nice bright white freshly cleaned security droids that Oddball maintained showed up.

The large door cycled, and four of them stepped through, two immediately headed for me and two for Will. There were two standing at attention in the hall. They were designed for riot control, and couldn't be given orders without the captain or security chief unless there were special circumstances. A vote like this was not a special circumstance, emergency or not.

"Please come with us Mo'ar Zamir."

I looked over to see Will was already walking with his new escorts.

"Go to hell, tin can."

They grabbed me by the arms of course, in a perfectly co-ordinated movement that I couldn't quite dodge. My kicks bounced off of course, though I was leaving some nice dents.

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES, I'LL REMEMBER THIS! FUCK ALL OF YOU!"

Took me a bit to realize I was the one that was raving, most of my focus going towards trying to kick the neck joint of the bots while they held me up. They were weak there, and a good shot could rupture the coolant tubing, cause them to momentarily shut down before the back ups kicked in. I'd have about 3 seconds before they rebooted if I hit them right.

Unfortunately, I realized they were authorized for debilitating force too late...I heard a tazer crackle to life.

(tbc)

My chest hurt. my left arm stung. And most importantly, my crotch ached.

It took some time to come back to consciousness, and remember why that was important. I was surprised that I wasn't restrained in any way, but I didn't really feel like moving much. There was a security bot in the doorway, but it seemed to be inactive. Sleep mode if I had to guess.

Surely Oddball and the crew weren't that stupid, were they?

A shape in the gloom resolved itself into our fearless new captain as he stepped forward, putting his face right in mine. Good old first traitor.

"The cameras and listening devices are off. I know you don't want to see me right now, but you need to hear this. It's done. It's done, but it can be undone just as easily. We just need to find another solution that Oddball will accept, or trick it somehow - and for that I need you. I need you to be clear, and focused. I haven't given up, and neither should you."

His pad beeped and his face transformed with clear rage for a moment.

"Got to go for now, I'll be back. Remember what I said Mouse. As far as I'm concerned this isn't over. Please stay here and rest; recover, don't do anything hasty."

And then he was gone. The security bot activated and came to my side with a squeeze bag of water. I realized how thirsty I was. I also realized how screwed up I was when my clumsy grab for it missed. Instead I had to suffer further indignity as the bot held on to the container, easing the straw past my lips then giving it a mild squeeze.

At least I didn't choke. I could only assume I was still drugged, but it seemed a light, ephemeral presence; barely impacting my thoughts at all. Instead it brought dizziness and a mild lassitude. Which meant It'd be almost impossible to stand for the time being, let alone walk. So I focused on moving my muscles, one twitch at a time. They all worked, and fairly soon I was getting them to work in sequence.

Once that was done I sat up; ignoring the security bot that suddenly cycled active. My pad chronometer told me I'd been out just under 27 hours. It was 3pm, the day after surgery. Physically I should be near enough to healed to leave, as long as I took it easy; too much walking and the nano machines may not be able to keep the knitting tissues together. I should probably wait till tomorrow to do anything, at which point I'd be cleared for active duty again and scheduled to be back on the job.

Of course, that's what they expected me to do, which is why I wouldn't. Proper study would be key. The security bot standing sentry was number 20. Each ship had berth for 100 security drones, controlled by the ship's AI and deployed in times of strife, with consent of the captain, first officer, doctor and engineer, depending on the situation. On our ship units 5 and 14 had been destroyed, unit 5 when it attempted to interrupt some party of the first gen's and got shot up with weapons for it's trouble (the weapons had of course since been confiscated) and unit 14 when a small piece of debris managed to get through 3 hulls and hole it's armor clean through. That one was still a very available display on the dangers of space.

Oddball could of course manufacture new ones, but with 98 in various degrees of full operation, there was no need. But the number of course, was important. Usually 20 were needed to guard the most sensitive areas of the ship, one per location or picked choke point (like the gate to the manufacturing sector). They were always deployed number first for some reason, and not by distance (the closest one being sent). That there was one here, and the number, indicated that there were at least 18 deployed security bots. This one would be medical's which meant that all the other sensitive spots were also watched.

It's almost like Oddball expected trouble. Citizens armed with torches and pitchforks, to slay the monster? Great movie. Unfortunately all I heard was silence. I still remembered enough of last night (or the night before, I guess it is now) to know that a clear majority of my loving crew had decided against me. All of them calm and collected, voting ahead of me, showing not a glimpse of what was in their traitorous minds. Our supposed leader was right about one thing though; this could be undone.

Now, what did I have to work with?

Precious little had been left in my reach; I wasn't restrained, which boggled my mind. Surely they didn't think that I'd be docile just like that? A show of force, a casual ruiniation of two lives, and I'd be good? Or had they just made their vote and left all the details up to Oddball? Probably the latter, but either way, no makeshift weapons or useful chemicals were in range; all lay beyond the security bot.

They had however, made another mistake. They had left my personal pad here. All I needed was a bit of time.

***************************************************

Why had I ever wanted to be captain? why would anyone? It was the worst job on the ship; it had to be. All day yesterday spent fielding status reports, assigning temporary engineers ( It took four to do mouse's job when he... damn it, she wasn't available, on the first day!) helping form the petition with Claire and Seth to get Oddball to discuss alternatives, claiming the solution chosen would be damaging to morale.

And most importantly, wondering why fewer than a dozen people all told cared about how a human crew member was just railroaded. William was taking the entire thing in stride, with a fatalism one could expect of a prisoner about to be executed for a crime. He... err, she wouldn't even sign the petition.

The ship was of course, still running. All the crew was accounted for at their various jobs or asleep. No major incidents had occured, and even though the security bots were out in force for the first time in years, it all seemed to be business as usual. And yet, at the same time, it seemed to me that many were waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was of course waiting
in the best way possible; with aged liqour to keep me company.

I'd have to watch out, lest I become a drunkard. Then again that might seem preferable to facing all this sober. Seig was with me, lending silent support. Neither of us had been responsible for the security bot presence; Oddball had made the call on his own, citing psychological and morale reasons. When we had both objected, Oddball said he had obtained the permission of Dirk as resident doctor.

Apparently Dirk had been so drunk that at the party, when Oddball came to him he just said "Sure." I had just watched the video footage. The problem was that now that security was called out, until Oddball declared the emergency over, we had no way of recalling them. An oversight of our ancestors we were dearly paying for. Perhaps I should compile a list of those. that might even be a better use of my time.

"Well? Any ideas?"

I ran my hands through my hair, a nervous habit I never admitted to possessing.

"Not a one seig. I feel like there is something I'm not quite catching, but I'm too stressed and angry to care."

"Not to mention drunk." Seig chimed in.

"Not to mention drunk. So what was the work order today?"

I'd had Seig fill in for mouse yesterday and today; the results were surprising.

"Checking the battery cells on deck 3. Literally grunt work."

Yesterday it was checking the oxygen fill levels in the spare tanks in storage, and checking them for faults and leaks. Both jobs were something almost any of us could do blindfolded. I'd checked the logs for weeks before; the older jobs were the ones you really wanted a good engineer for. Seig was competent, but he'd never be Mouse.

It was almost as if Oddball had anticipated downtime by it's chief engineer. Or maybe it had been planning for both options, both vote outcomes.

I do think the crew petition for alternatives surprised it. It hadn't answered any texts sent it yet, except in the automated 'I've received your message and will get back to you' sense. what surprised me was how few people have so far signed the petition, and how little outrage there is. A crew member was altered against their will, mutilated. security bots roam the halls in a clear violation of the rights of the crew.

And it looked like so very many people were willing to accept it, as long as it didn't directly affect them.

My pad chimed; a security alert. The perfect height of my day. I checked it as it blurred, my eyes focusing as if I were drunk. Small wonder that, I was. Then I saw where the alert was, and understood how a person could be said to 'sober up instantly'. It was Mouse's living quarters. Not the infirmary, which still showed all three occupants (Mouse in bed sleeping, Dirk in the medication mixing room reading, and the security bot standing sentinel in an unusual place - in front of Mouse's room.) but the actual living quarters of our chief engineer. A guy just couldn't catch a break.

"Seig you have the bridge!"

He looked up in wonderment as I blurred past; he was well past any thought of moving. I'm sure I set records, feet pounding loudly on the deck plates, taking foolish chances jumping stairs rather than taking the elevators. I had to beat the freshly reawakened security bot number 23 and 24 to the scene; with a security alert declared Oddball could send two bots to the scene of the alert, assuming it to be a crime.

Of course it had to be a crime - breaking and entering with possible looting, to be exact; since only Mouse or I had access to his... ugh, her rooms. The hacking was the most serious part of the offense, the rooms were all coded by our nanite marker, with access granted to those we chose. For someone who had permission, there would be no need to set off the alarm; they could walk right in at any time. For those without, the door wouldn't just open for them, they had to short the door controls or something.

which would set off the alarm, but they would know that. There are very few secrets on a ship. Which of course made no sense. I arrived, breathless, to see a closed door with the tamper resistant panel intact. That was even more curious. I walked closer and the door opened with a whisper, clearly in perfect working order. The lights clicked on as I entered, showing the living room. All was in place, the real valuables would be in the bedrooms of course.

Things like clothes or small wooden items. Stuff that couldn't be reproduced easily, or at all. The security bots arrived as I made it to the first door of interest. The bedroom of Mouse's parents. They stayed outside to my surprise, letting me do the work. It also opened easily, and appeared to be clean and untouched. The bathroom was where I first saw signs of theft; a highly prized toothpaste dispenser was missing, along with it's full complement of paste. There were only two toothbrushes in the case, and a small first aid kit was also missing, the outline of where it sat ever so faintly visible against the tile.

Ahh, crap. Crap crap crap.

I checked my pad again, looking at all the data from the alert that led me here. Something had set off the quarters' motion sensor - something that had not gone through the door, and had no nanite marker presence in the system. Only one person could pull off such a hack job, and I should have expected it. Mouse had looped the camera feeds and somehow turned made her way in here. Through the vents of course, had to be.

To be sure I checked her room. Normally it was a controlled chaos, with everything sort of jammed in containers at whim. I saw the difference right away; several containers that normally held small tools and electrical components were missing, as well as more than a few old experiments and machines. A few drawers of the bureau were empty as well, and the main vent cowling to the room was bent and hanging from the wall by one screw.

I had to applaud her even as I cursed her; only a few of us, and not a single security bot could follow her in there. There were no cameras or microphones either. There were ways to track a person in there (by heat or nanite marker) but it was unlikely we could find her in that maze. After all, she was the only crew member awake that knew it all. The security bots
must have caught on, cause the supposedly live feed on my pad that showed Mouse asleep changed to show an empty bed, the hapless bot standing guard none the wiser.

Neither was Dirk; I'd have to have words with him about that. He should be just a little more observant when he had a patient, instead of just reading away without a care. In fact that seemed like a good start. I left the bots behind, not bothering to inform them of my intent. They seemed content with 'securing the crime scene', posting themselves outside in the
corridor.

(tbc).

And here we are again. Quick, there is something behind you! I think it's that chapter you wanted! It's coming right for you!

*screams and runs away*

Copyright Nagrij 2014.

Of course as I was pulling myself along the various vent junctions with my ill gotten gains, I felt something tear. Almost immediately I felt a bit of wetness between my legs; I wasn't sure whether to hope it was blood or not. I'd already been crawling around for what seemed like forever; I'd had to sabatoge a few systems that could be used to track me before I could properly go to ground.

The first was the tracking system designed to find and pinpoint any foreign life - foreign being any life that was growing or inhabiting regions it was not meant to. Like algae in our seage treatment tanks, rather than just mixed into our water supply. Mice were a huge problem for the first generation, I was told... another good example. Either one can spell a nice creeping doom, as the pernicious life could clog valves or chew wiring. It worked by tracking and catalogueing the gaseous and other secretions all life left behind, and comparing such things against what should be coming from a given location.

With just a modification or two, it could be used to pinpoint the location of any human outside the habitation deck with ease. The first solution of course would be to stay in the habitation deck... but they would think of that and run down any activity in unassigned apartments. When I was a child however, I was told something by my father - "Be prepared." I think it was a motto of some group or other. So when my crew decided to betray me, an occurence whose chances I put right behind main drive failure and us meeting a free roaming blackhole with no warning, I was still ready.

A little virus worked into the definition software of the first system, and anything with my nanite marker profile was now no longer considered a life form, and any data on my emissions (carbon dioxide, dead skin cells, etcetera) was promptly ignored and deleted from the system before it could be catalogued. I'd originally designed this little beauty of code after watching an all night movie marathon - thought it would come in handy in case of alien attack.

The second system was the nanite marker system itself; designed specifically to track us humans, it needed no modifications to do it's job. I could not mask the nanites from the scanners designed to pick them up, and destroying them meant fatally heavy doses of radiation. But there was more than one way to handle things like this.

Mine was to set up another virus to spoof the scanners; quite simply, if queried, all the scanners on the ship would report positives. Oddball was my worry. Even our best computer techs (aside from myself of course) couldn't handle my work. I was confident of that. The issue was Oddball, who could crush any and all types of software attacks with ease. So... I set both programs up to be self replicating, and then set up a standard pad I'd yanked with me from medical to also self replicate the programs. Simple work then to patch the pad into one of the hard lines that composed our network, using my standard emergency engineer tools.

With the pad taped into place so it wouldn't dislodge itself, and my own pad reporting to me that the programs were working, I was finally able to see to myself. The was less blood than I expected. The syringe of emergency surgical nanites should be enough to fix whatever problem I exacerbaited with all the moving around. With a little food and rest, I'd be fine.

Relatively speaking.

********

I sighed. Of course we can't find her; she's smarter than all of us.

"This damn thing is useless!"

I wearily stepped up and grabbed Siegfried's hand before he could throw the handheld scanner into the wall. We'd been searching for hours in co-ordination with the bridge, but whatever was making all the false positives on the ship wide sensors was doing it to the handhelds too.

"We're going to have to keep going Seig, she's a danger if we leave her alone."

He blew a wooshing breath.

"But Rog, man, you know how Mouse can hide. If neither systems are going to be of any use in tracking her...."

"Then we'll just have to come up with a new way."

I did not want to be here, referring to my best friend as a she and trying to track her down and medicate her so she didn't kill us all. I did not want to be anywhere near this situation. I really just wanted to go home, get drunk, and wait for the ship to explode.

What was funny is, for the most part, it was business as usual among everyone else. Only a few other people even seemed concerned that we had a possibly homicidal or suicidal engineer smarter than all of us put together, loose to wreak havoc. The notable exceptions still acted the same, but you could see it lurking in the back of their eyes, their tight expressions.

Fear.

All of them of course, being friends of Mouse, who knew how vindictive she could be. The one notable exception of course was currently headed our way, teamed up with her best friend Marion, as regulations dictated when dealing with security breaches.

"Find anything Claire?"

"No, nothing at her old haunts. At least the ones I know about. Mary knew a few more, and those were empty too."

Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Even drugged out of her mind she wouldn't make that simple a mistake. I wonder how she can hack the system as well as she has while drugged, for that matter. Niether Seig nor I could even tell where the programs were coming from, let alone unravel them. And Oddball was oddly silent - the only answer I could get from it in regards to the network attacks were that they were 'being investigated.'

Call me suspicious, but I had the feeling that Oddball was not doing everything it could to track down our wayward crew member. I also had the feeling that the headaches of the last two weeks were just the start.

"Well, no help for it. We're going to have to check every place connected to the vents that she could hide... visually."

Seig, Claire and Mary all stared at me, slack jawed. Hey. I knew it was hopeless too! But better to try and get lucky than just let her run around loose. Or possibly die alone and forgotten from aggravating her wounds. She wasn't even supposed to be moving at all until tomorrow.

"Rog, that has to be thousands of spots."

My money was on high tens of thousands, actually.

"I know Seig, if you have a better way, I'm all ears."

His sigh was a long suffering one. He looked at me, the question obvious in his eyes.

Is she really worth doing all this for? Won't this blow over on it's own?

I shook my head at him minutely. No this won't blow over. Yes she's dangerous. He sighed again, a bit more softly this time.

"We're going to need more people. And schematics. Plenty of ship schematics."

"You get as many as you can from the cafeteria, and I'll round up the people that aren't busy but aren't there. We can organize by pad. Remember, teams of two... I don't expect Mouse to get violent, but let's not take the chance."

I really didn't expect Mouse to get violent... at least not yet. Give her about two days.

******

I woke up fairly refreshed but famished; the nanite IV was doing it's job. I felt no pain, and no lingering drug effects. The portable scanner I'd swiped from the infirmary earlier found nothing in my bloodwork and no anomalies... well aside from the obvious again. my pad indicated that just over nine hours had passed, Which meant that it was time to move. I had great faith in my hiding spot, but no sense getting too comfortable then getting found.

My pad could scan for other people in the same way they could have scanned for me if I hadn't taken steps. They obviously had not thought of taking steps of their own, because I could find everyone in minutes. Many of them were in twos, wandering the corridors, stopping at vent and engineer tube accesses periodically. Kind of touching in a way, if I didn't know they were doing it to cover and protect their own traitorous asses.

None of them were even close to me yet. They hadn't even started checking the zero G areas yet. Perhaps they assumed I couldn't or wouldn't crawl that far? Recovering in zero G was actually very relaxing for the body, as long as you didn't bounce yourself off anything hard. Gravity added to stress on the body after all. whether humanity was adapted for it or not.

No real concern of mine either way. They weren't close to my current bolthole, and they weren't between me and hydroponics, another rather large mistake in my opinion. While the kitchen and rather large pantry had two people there along with a security bot, and the quartermaster's warehouses and storage had the same, hydroponics only had a lone security bot and one patrolling worker, probably the night shift botonist. I didn't even care who it was, it was one person covering a farm full of fresh produce built for 60. No way could they catch me, unless I fell asleep mid hiest.

Maybe they thought I wouldn't dare; after all it is the source of all we eat. It's sacred in a way. But that's just silly; a terrible blind spot in their thinking. Think I'll educate them to it. Some cord, a simple pulley, a pocketknife (always useful) and a few other supplies that fit in my pockets and I was on my way.

Liberating some tomatos, radishes, spinach and lettuce made for a good salad. I made sure I had enough of that and the rice for days, because I want the theft to be found. Between this and the standard vitamins, I'd be fine. They would notice the food missing right away, but it was doubtful they would notice the seeds. And through it all of course, not a single soul was seen. The glorified toaster (wonder what a toaster was? Some esoteric techie device I was told from the source when I picked that phrase up) never left the hatchway.

Of course, since it didn't see me, and was patched in to the same network Oddone was in, it believed I was everywhere already, or nowhere. So unless I gave it cause to look around, like vast amounts of noise or an alarm, it was effectively paralyzed. Eating my catch I headed back into the vents with the seeds, passing over a silent, haunted looking patrol consisting of a rather haunted looking Mary, and pinched looking but somehow still nonchalant looking Claire. They both looked tired.

Of course, it was near their bedtime. I had to wait as they passed of course, to be quiet as my namesake. They could summon help and have this section of hidden highway taken apart at both ends before I could get away, should they have reason to believe I was there. That was something to fear - if my opposition had been handling this like they could have. They should already know where I was going, at least for now. The one oath I took above all others; if Roger was thinking, he'd have the ambush set up.

According to my pad, which still clearly showed Mary and Claire walking down the corridor far behind me, and several other crew at their various stations in range, he didn't. My brains told me that if he was thinking at all, this would be where he'd blank out all evidence of a few burly crew and wait. My recently reworked gut was telling me that I could walk right in without fear of reprisal.

There was no reason to ignore one over the other; no cause. So I stayed in the vents, squeezed through the vent just beside the hatch, and found myself above the sleepers.

There were plenty of places to hide here; a bit morbid, but this was one of the best rooms for hide and seek. Almost every cryo tube had a nook behind it even the largest adult could cram into without affecting the works. Most wouldn't dare, but kids are a different breed - young and fearless. Nowadays I understood why the adults would drag us out of here after we played and dispense some rather iron handed discipline. We never had caused the accident the second gen had so dreaded however. In later years it was one of the best places to be alone.

Now, my gut was insisting, through the experience of long hours spent here for just that purpose, that the place was empty. A half hour later the place still appeared clear, so it was time to listen. My drop down was silent but not exactly painless, and done right in front of my parents.

I sat in front of them, staring into each in turn. Had they known? They almost had to have known. If they had, why? Why not say something, why not warn me, let me help fix the problem?

Did they really think there was no solution?

It was obvious that Roger had at least hinted at the issue and sought my help, but why not just tell me outright what the outcome would be? I'd had no idea, and would have worked on it a bit (ok, much much) harder had I been told. I turned a few tubes down to my former boss. Had he known? I bet he'd had at least some suspicions, but all my memories indicated he knew nothing.

Going from one tube to the next, I pondered.

The alarm I'd set on my pad was entirely too loud. I hushed it quickly and was into the vents before anyone (or the toaster)could come and investigate. Even with the grate replaced I knew Roger would know I was here. Even if it wasn't possible to leave
prints in the collected ice in the tomb, he'd remember as soon as the alarm was raised how much the place meant to me. Luckily the way I was heading out was much faster than the way I took going in - allowing the gravity to let me 'fall' towards the outside of the ship. Not without it's dangers, but what did I care about getting hurt at the moment?

I had my answer. It had taken hours of staring in the dark, but I now knew. I couldn't do what I really wanted and destroy a ship full of traitors, anger or no. Many of the frozen, at the very least, were innocent of this crime and I had taken an oath to protect them and the ship. That same oath compelled me against murder, as leaving the ship drastically shorthanded would lead to it's demise. Also what if I killed one of them and got someone else condemned to my situation? Besides, I was better than that - better than they were.

I could feel the grin stretch my lips ear to ear, and even my back teeth caught some of the breeze. I felt downright feral; unstoppable. Everything else was on the table; I was only human after all.

(tbc)

The day cycle began innocently enough. Almost pleasant, in a way. Despite the fact that I was now alone in what were now my exclusive quarters aboard the ship, the silence was almost soothing. Some time to release the straps that held me in bed (should the gravity fail) and I was out, flipping out of the bed in as flashy a manner as possible.

A quick stretch later and I went looking for my stimulant of choice, an old soft drink recipe of choice known as 'coke'. I was pretty much the only one on the ship that liked it, so my few chemical ramblings were mostly attempts to reproduce it via artificial means.

The current concoction, I felt, was close. I couldn't be sure however, since I'd never tasted the real thing. Roger Smitt was never one to let a small thing like that stop him though.

The security drone standing just inside his living room however, brought certain facts crashing home, even this early. Even as captain, I wasn't fully in control... yet.

I wasn't sure he wanted to be, either.

Oddball suspected my friend... my best friend... of wishing to do me bodily harm. I was a “Very important person to ship operations and morale”, to quote the blasted device. I wanted to believe it wrong, wanted that more than anything. But I wasn't so sure anymore.

Mouse would even be well within her rights, in my opinion. However, as captain, I had to try and keep the ship from flying apart, either figuratively... or literally. Which meant finding mouse, as soon as possible, and either talking her down or.....

Or what? What could we really do? They needed her, now more than ever. With Oddball acting more screwed up than even the last generation could remember (I had asked before they were frozen) they needed Mouse to come up with a solution for the biggest crisis for the continuation of the species since the actual destruction of the earth itself.

I downed my concoction and dressed quickly; I just knew I'd have a busy day. A busy, hectic, horrible day. The way I saw it, there were three options for what was going to happen. The first, and the most unlikely, was that Mouse was now suicidal and would kill us all. The Mouse I knew had too strong a love of life and sense of duty for our mission to do that.

The next, and the most likely in my opinion, was that Mouse would selectively kill or freeze certain members of the crew before revealing herself and towing the party line, removing those she saw as her enemies and then settling in to ship life.

She was too valuable to kill, but if she killed anyone, no matter the cause, I would see her pay for it for the rest of her existence.

The last option I saw was her simply staying gone for weeks, or months, and then rejoining the crew. I didn't put much chance of that, but more than the first. She was very angry, after all. While I could see her sabotaging Oddball in my fondest dreams, I knew there would be some sort of retaliation for this.

It turns out she thought of a fourth option.

“Roger?!? Roger? Captain, can you send maintenance to my quarters, please?”

Lissa.

“Sure, what's the problem?”

“Nothing! Just a bit of a mess I'll need help with.”

“Spill, Lissa. What happened?”

“My waste hose from my toilet was rerouted... then reversed somehow. I don't even understand how, I mean, it's a gravity feed, right? How could anyone....”

And now that the reticence had broken she was off, talking a mile a minute. Mouse. It had to be Mouse, and Lissa knew it too.

“On my way.”

“What? No! Can't you just send maintenance or something?”

“You know I can't Lissa; it's pretty obvious Mouse was there, and we need to at least investigate for clues. Just wait there, a team is on the way.”

“But....”

“No buts. Sit tight, and don't touch anything. We are on the way.”

She really didn't want me there. I wondered how bad the damage was. For her to not want me there seemed to shove this sabotage more into the embarrassment category than dangerous. Otherwise she'd be screaming her head off for a security detachment. I clicked my pad.

“Seth, respond.”

“Sup, captain?”

“Need you to grab Joe and meet me in front of Lissa's quarters with your bio-hazard gear and supplies.”

“Sure, but why?”

“I'd think that would be obvious. Now, Seth.”

“On the way, boss. I'll bring you a suit too.”

My drone escort was of course, following me, which meant that Oddball had heard all. No idea what it was thinking, and I wasn't going to ask. We will settle this ourselves. Asking Oddball for thoughts or ideas would be a terrible decision.

One step into Lissa's quarters almost made me reconsider. My boots squelched, rather than impact the standard gravity plating. I stopped.

“Lissa?”

“In here.”

Entering her bedroom, the first thing that hit me was the smell. The pure stench of waste and treatment chemicals used to break said waste down melted the hair in my nose. I swore I could hear them sizzle. The waste hose was more than in Lissa's quarters, it was in her bunk, having been extended from the bathroom.

From the look of her, she had not woke immediately after the back-flow process started. She was literally caked with the... stuff. I wanted to laugh, but I didn't like what this stunt said about our security.

While it was true the head botanist did not rate the same security as a captain, I should have foreseen this.

Well that's not true, I had. I had in fact anticipated Mouse sneaking into Lissa's quarters through the vents and murdering her in her sleep. Yet I hadn't ordered a full security lock-down of personnel quarters.

I didn't want Oddball to roll out more security drones, and have even more resources to use against us. So this was clearly my fault, and I had to make good.

“Yo boss, we're here, what's...whoa.”

“Don't come in, you jerks!”

“Sorry your highness, unless you want to clean all this up yourself, I recommend you drop the attitude. We have the suits and the goods. Boss, those boots of yours got to go. Same with you Lissa, strip the nightie. Some of these chemicals are caustic.”

“I'll... just go take a shower.”

“Good idea. Use plenty of soap.”

“You think I wouldn't?”

“No I mean it, the entire tube. I'll authorize more; this is essentially a hazardous materials spill. And go now.”

She only waited long enough to grab some fresh clothes which thankfully enough, had been left alone. That left the rest of us to wade through the small pond of waste. The bedding was a complete loss. The bed might be too, for all I knew. As for me, I sprayed my boots with a solution Joe handed me (so quiet I only dimly registered his presence) and then suited up to help.

Of course, no sooner had I put the gloves on when my pad chimed.

“Captain, this is Carla, can you come to the farm please?”

The farm was the other name we had for hydroponics, and with Lissa here, Carla was on duty there.

“Is it important Carla?”

“I wouldn't call if it wasn't. I know you're busy.”

“Sorry Seth, duty calls.”

I was apologetic for a reason; I was responsible, so I should be here cleaning up this mess.

“It's no problem boss, we got this.”

“I want you to relocate Lissa to berth 14. That way if you need to, clean up can wait. You can just help her move and spray the place with neutral decontaminates.”

Berth 14 was closer to my own quarters, but I'd take the added headache in order to make the statement.

“Gotcha boss.”

From the bathroom came a shrill scream. I as at the door and overriding it when Lissa spoke:

“No, don't come in! Everything's fine!”

“Lissa, what happened?”

“The hot and cold water is rerouted. That little....”

I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the rest of that. I turned to Seth, who was struggling to keep a straight face. Joe behind him had abandoned that idea entirely, and was instead chuckling near silently.

“Not a word you two. Just... just help her move.”

And then I was off to the next disaster.

….......................................................................................................................................

I watched from my monitor, nursing my poor mutilated body. Mostly healed or not, laughing hurt like no other pain I'd ever felt; I was grateful I had some pain medication to take the edge off, or I'd be completely sidelined.

The view of Lissa drenched in waste however, frozen on my monitor while trying to talk to Roger, was priceless. The look on her face! I'd treasure it forever. And the shower afterwords... well, almost worth all that's happened.

But not really, of course.

I did feel kind of bad for Seth and Joe getting stuck on clean up, but they deserved it too; they were lucky I didn't do more to them. I still might. And dear Roger, traitor in chief, had another fire to put out. Hmmm, fire, that gave me another idea. Something to put into motion right after the pain caused by the laughter went away.
Besides, the feed from hydroponics wouldn't be nearly as entertaining.

…...................................................................................................................................

Carla had wonderful news for me. It seems that Mouse had made her way past the guards, and managed to steal several plants. Not just the fruit, or the vegetables, the plants themselves. As an engineer, that and the tablets she'd stolen from medical made her self sustaining from just about anywhere on the ship.

But in order to continue to grow the plants, she would need certain things. I did not want to do this, but duty is heavier than a mountain, so an Earther said once. No truer words.

“Oddball.”

“Yes Captain Smitt?”

“Do you still have a drone at chemical and storage?”

“Yes Captain Smitt.”

“Are they outside the door?”

“Yes Captain Smitt.”

“Move them inside; the shift personnel can watch the outside, and there is a chance Mouse hasn't picked up the chemicals needed to sustain the plants. Up the alert for them too, have them long any life signals. It could be Mouse is masking herself from sensors as one of us somehow.”

“That is very unlikely.”

“Just do it Oddball. We can't afford to take chances here. Captain out.”

I turned to Carla.

“You keep the mix for the chemical baths on site, don't you?”

“Yes, but I don't think she could....”

“I know, it's highly unlikely she could haul it off in her current condition...but inventory it anyway. Then lock it up. Requisition one of the old padlocks from Claire, the kind with the combination, not the key kind.”

“Alright, consider it done.”

That handled, I headed back to the habitation wing. Seth was waiting for me alone, but Lissa had presumably already moved into 14. Seth read my expression.

“Yeah she's mostly moved boss. I sent Joe to find out what Mouse did to the waste management system, since you said we could take our time cleaning up. I was just about to put the hazard warnings out.”

I helped him paste the plastic bio hazard signs on the door. No one other than myself or Lisa could enter anyway (at least without squeezing through a vent) so it was just a precaution. I hoped it wouldn't become a harbinger of things to come.

“OK so here's what we got. You know how the treatment system works, right? There is a collection tank at the far end of habitation here' he showed me on his pad, which had the schematics pulled up 'working on a three day cycle. It holds everything for three days, mixing and breaking it down, then pumps it to the primary collection/compost while removing all the toxic of flammable gasses, and pumping them to other tanks.”

“Right.”

“well, she bypassed the hose just past the vacuum pump here, and re-routed it straight into Lissa's toilet hose. So when the timer tripped, she got it all. Everything for the past three days, and the chemicals used to break it all down. It was the matter of maybe 10 minutes with a wrench. To be honest, I'm surprised the hose could take that kind of load; it should have been springing leaks all over the place, but Joe said it was solid.”

“That pump and containment tank are in zero-g, right?”

“Sure are.”

Damn it Mouse, that's pretty sneaky.

“We need to focus our scans there then; chances are she's still in one of those areas.”

“I'd agree. It's an ideal place to hang out and heal up.”

“Not really, it can have detrimental long term effects on her, healing up with no gravitational pressure.”

“It can?”

“Picture veins and arteries sewn back together healing with less thickness than before, then rupturing once she returns to regular activity in normal gravity.”

“Oh, ouch.”

“Yes, ouch. We need to find her. You know any of her old haunts?”

Seth shook his head.

“You know Mouse, there were places she never let anyone into. Her hiding places were one of them. You likely know more of them than I do.”

He spoke again to forestall my objection.

“I'll think on it, I will. But don't wait for me. I'll also get Joe on it. He sees more than he lets on, sometimes. People tend to forget he's there.”

My guess was he liked it like that.

“Siegfried, Guido, I've got a job for you.”

“What do you need Captain? And you going to come relieve me on the bridge?”

“Yes, but you aren't getting any sleep yet. I'll make it up to you later. I need you and Guido to passkey through all the quarters used in the habitation wing and seal the vents.”

“What was that, Captain?”

“Yes you heard right; I don't care if you have to weld them shut, seal them. Ideally so well they can resist outside entry, but it not rig it so they make enough noise to raise the dead. Every single one.”

His sigh was loud, even across the pad speaker.

“Understood Captain. Guido, you heard?”

“Yes, Sieg; already gathering the tools for it... two sets.”

“I'll meet you there.”

That should help. If we sealed the vents it should limit her choices. We couldn't entirely seal the access tubes, but I was sorely tempted. But going through the tubes then sealing them behind us with motion detectors or more permanent means, should be enough. If we sealed all the vents first.

Every single one. What a mess.

….........................................................................................................................................

I nodded to myself; Roger was finally getting serious. About time, really. I'd have said he was too soft, but he had after all, voted to mutilate his best friend on the advice of an insane AI.

I rose a bit from where I had my makeshift surveillance suite. It was time for medication and lunch, in that order. The closing of the vents didn't worry me too much, as I had expected that. I had thought I would have more time, but this didn't affect my plans much.

The throw-away pad (Lissa's old one, she hadn't missed it yet, and how she rated more than one I didn't know) was busy hacking into the social event files. Soon I'd know who voted for me, and who against. My own pad was a nice diversion, should the traitors ever get that far. But I had other back ups.

Next up was Claire. I thought we were friends once, but no longer. And if we were not friends, we were enemies. And enemies got the angry engineer treatment, until I felt a little less angry. It had to happen sometime, right?

Maybe by the time we were due to be frozen. Until then, let the games begin, Captain traitor. Catch me if you can.
….........................................................................................................................................

Sieg had to sleep sometime, and that time came four hours later; I couldn't see making him pull his shift tonight without something. So I took over, with just over half the vents in the habitation wing sealed.

I looked in on the last one they did, it was both welded (a rush job, it looked mildly awful, though that could be simply due to Sieg being tired) and dotted with motion detectors set to trigger a siren should the vent or sensor be moved in any way.

Guido believed in being thorough.

“Alright Sieg, get some sleep; I'll take over.”

“All your Captain. We should have done this years ago. I know I'll sleep easier now.”

That sounded a bit off.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean knowing that we have someone that can crawl around those vents without any of us knowing sounds like all fun and games, and I didn't really mind Mouse doing it before, but obviously she's gone a bit off the deep end here, and I'll sleep safer knowing she can't get to me.”

I shook my head.

“She's just angry. She has cause.”

“I never said she doesn't Captain. I'm just saying I don't want to see what else she has planned for the rest of us, and I hope shes done with Lissa. I feel safer with my vent barricaded until she calms down.”

Guido, almost as quiet a Joe, chose this moment to break his silence.

“I agree. Always best to be prepared, and the quicker we remove her options, the quicker we can focus on finding and helping her.”

I waved it off. I guess they couldn't help the tinge of anger in their voices either, even if they had no cause.

“Get some sleep Sieg, you aren't getting out of your shift unless the doc calls you in sick.”

“Yep, I'm out.”

I settled in to weld the next one, which happened to be mine. Well I certainly hadn't planned that. We had no need to be quiet, Jen had moved out at the same time as our parents were frozen, citing the need for 'space', whatever that meant. We had more than enough space in my opinion, both inside and outside the ship.

It really just meant I saw her even less than I did before.

Four hours of mindless welding later and we were done, at least with habitation. Still a far cry from the goal of having everything locked down so we could search, but at least with security drones on either side of the habitation wing and the vents welded, the engineering access tubes locked, we would be safe from further reprisal.

Carla had not contacted me yet, so I went to find her; I found her in the cafeteria, drinking something that smelled strongly of my new cabinet in the captain's office. I pointedly pretended not to notice. Lissa was next to her, looking very clean, and everywhere but at me.

“So Carla, what happened with that inventory?”

“I just finished it and came here to get something; I worked through lunch on it.”

I nodded to show I understood her diligence, and the reason she didn't contact me sooner. She was still rubbing Lissa's hand.

“The quick answer is yes, supplies are missing, but not enough to sustain the number of plants Mouse took for longer than a week, two at most. Either she's planning on actually eating the plants entirely, or she will need more.”

No self respecting member of this generation would kill a food bearing plant, so I could safely plan on her trying to take more. Likely not tonight, but I'd already moved the security drones in both the lab and botany wings to the inside of their respective areas; in the case of botany, I'd made sure it would patrol this time.

Best I could do for tonight; by tomorrow I could set a good trap. But maybe I could lower my chances.

A quick work order for Brunhilde to continue what we had started on night shift, only this time welding the vents in the botany wing first, and I would have both another person in place to stop Mouse from grabbing more, and the place locked down that much more quickly.

And it would also stop Mouse from doing worse than just grabbing some growth mix, if she were so inclined. After all, she had an independent source of food for herself now, there was nothing really stopping her from sabotaging ours. I really did not like that thought at all.

I grabbed a drink for myself, Marion just let me with a nod.

I wanted it to be alcoholic, but the last thing I needed was for Oddball to relieve me of command for being under the influence of a mind altering drug. Then, Like the rest of the ship, I settled in uneasily to wait.

Two of the longest weeks in recorded history, I was sure.

That was how long it took to “batten down the hatches”, as the shipping saying went. Botony was closed, the labs were closed, the living quarters were finally closed. But it had cost, oh how it had cost. The Magellan would never be the same.

The night after Lissa had been hit, Carla had. She had assured me in strident tones that it would take months for her hair to grow back, and yes it was a big deal. I had posted a guard inside Milla's quarters; it didn't take, well, an engineer, to know where Mouse would strike next.

Somehow she still got to her; now Milla and Carla both had a new found fondness for hats. Two days later, certain showers in the male gym area spit water tinted blue after a slight delay.

My own blue tinge was just now starting to fade, after almost two weeks of showers with a caustic soap. I knew what it meant; it meant she knew, or knew well enough from my own personality. Several others had been marked with the scarlet letter, as it were. A few were even indignant about it.

Most looked guilty... and worried.

I wouldn't care to bet that the cameras Oddball used were being used only by Oddball present. I bet Mouse was there, watching, laughing her fool ass off.

Now the females among the crew were looking over their shoulders, and testing their own showers each day before using them. The unease and stress were clear. Mouse looked omnipotent, or nearly so... and I looked incompetent, or nearly so. I wouldn't even argue if anyone stood up and screamed the accusation outright.

I'd probably agree, even if the crew wanted to replace me as captain.

But for all my own failure, there had been precious little rumbling of that yet. The real underground rumors and rumblings were far worse. Many in the crew were speaking openly (though never in my hearing) of 'punishing' Mouse.

How in the hell would we manage to punish our chief engineer without turning her further against us? Hadn't we 'punished' her first? How could we possibly stop Oddball from doing something like this again without Mouse? The other engineers from prior generations weren't even close to as brilliant as Mouse was, if their own anecdotal evidence and IQ tests were to be believed.

I'd felt I had to check those during the week, no matter how busy I was. Any sort of advantage I could find, I needed. But the prior engineers weren't much help, even if I were to request an emergency thawing. Provided I could make a case for such a thawing; Mouse hadn't in any way threatened the ship. And without that, Oddball wouldn't sign off on the action.

I felt like Oddball was getting his jollies from all this too, somehow. At least he was actually actively trying to help now, working on calculating how Mouse had blinded him, and ways to scan for bio-signatures throughout the ship that Mouse hadn't already figured out and disabled.

So far, no dice there, but it was a far cry from the first week. The first week Oddball did nothing at all that I didn't expressly ask for... almost as if it were paralyzed into inactivity. Some old archives in the history files had said some computers did that when faced with a problem they needed all their CPU power for... but that didn't really make sense. Oddball was a true AI, with more computing power than humanity had been able to make purely on it's own. It was more intelligent than Mouse, from an IQ test standpoint. So why would it freeze up like a windows computer running DOS and trying to compute the true numeric value of infinity?

That made me nervous; was our problem with Mouse so unsolvable that even the strongest computer humanity ever had access to couldn't solve it? And if not, what exactly did cause Oddball to freeze up like that?

I suppose it didn't matter; it was humanities' problem, for all that it was caused in part by Oddball itself. We could and would solve it. Preferably without bloodshed.

For now though, she was still at large. We had searched large areas of the ship, laying down sensors and hiding more; we didn't want to risk her hiding out in places we'd already been. None of those sensors had detected anything or been disabled so far, so I assumed they were clear.

I had a few private theories on where she was. One was that she was hanging out in the main drive section of engineering, which was a confusing warren of old machinery and tight hallways. Even our bravest explorers got lost regularly there, at least without some outside assistance. The old maps were all but useless there. Too much old tinkering and building.

Engineers were crazy; even the best of them.

The other option was the center of the ship, where the ship's gravity did not reach, in all the spaces not covered by cameras or sensors directly. There were no shortage of places to hide there for any length of time if you didn't mind your bone and muscle atrophy.

That's what was going to happen today. An organized search of the areas outside of the normal existence of the ship. Seth, Joe, Guido, and I were going to suit up and search that inner area in teams. I hoped we would find her today.

Because if we didn't, I'd need to get far more people to search the main drive section. The people I had searching now were ones I knew wouldn't hurt Mouse if we found her. Some of the people I'd have to include are not likely to be as forgiving. I hated the mere thought of having to worry not only for the searchers, but the one being searched for.

Even knowing my quarter's vents were welded shut with sensors in place to detect tampering, and the door locked with Mouse no longer granted entry, I still inspected my toothbrush and paste, as well as the water running from the sink in the bathroom. I did not need another application of blue pigment, or something strange spread upon my teeth.

Checking my clothes was a must too. All clear, on all counts.

The trip to the cafeteria was uneventful; I was running early which meant the hallways were empty. There had been no calls to wake me, the first time in weeks; I was just in the habit of waking early now... or not sleeping at all.

The cafeteria itself was almost empty; only Marion and Eric present. Eric's blue was actually closer to fading than mine was; a testament to how furiously one scrubbed when showering. Marion slid a plate of carrot muffins over as I stepped up to the counter without a word. I knew they were carrot muffins because that was what we had a surplus of this week.

I wish I could say tell Marion our food supply was out of danger, but that would be a lie. Even if everyone took shifts and just watched the garden, we wouldn't be able to watch all of it well enough. Not if Mouse decided to get serious. Luckily enough it seemed she didn't want to.

I was beginning to wish she'd just make her real move though; all this suspense was killing me.

I looked down in surprise when my questing hand found no more muffins to consume; I hadn't even tasted the things, and I liked carrots. Sigh. With a shrug I downed the last of my water and handed the dishes back to Marion.

Sure I was still early, but the sooner we started, the sooner we could find our wayward crew-member and bring her in. No one had even seen a glimpse of her during her admittedly malicious pranks, which meant no one knew if she had healed correctly, or if she had aggravated the surgery in some fatal way.

I'd rather she be pranking us than dead and rotting in some out of the way corner where the ship sensors did not reach. At least Oddball hadn't declared her dead; that would pretty much ruin someone else's day. Or life.

I think I'd rather space the entire damn computing core than allow it to operate on one of us again.

“Yo cap, good morning.”

Apparently I wasn't the only one ready to get started early. Joe and Seth were here already, with Joe acting mute and greeting with a silent wave as usual, and Seth speaking for both of them. Though in what movie inspired accent or slang this week would be anyone's guess. I couldn't even identify them all. The location was of course the primary inside hatch. Though we didn't need to be, we would be suited up for safety, and they were inspecting the suits.

Of course we couldn't get going until Guido arrived; I had demanded teams myself; no one left alone when searching for Mouse. Small as she was, she could still overwhelm any lone person, and I couldn't be sure she wouldn't hurt them somehow. I simply could not take the chance.

“yo cap, snap out of it.”

Concentration broken, I turned to Seth. He looked as serious as I had seen him. Neither he nor Joe had any hints of blue.

“What?”

“You're worrying too much cap. Got to cool off, stay frosty. You can't let it get to you; the stress will eat you alive.”

Behind him Joe nodded along.

“I can handle it.”

Maybe I couldn't, but a captain shouldn't appear weak after all. He gave me a surprisingly shrewd once over.

“Maybe cap... but how are you sleeping?”

I had no doubt he slept like a baby. They both likely did.

I was saved from having to respond and lie by Guido showing up. Right on time. He wasn't blue tinted either.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. So how are the suits?”

Joe spoke up for the first time today.

“Perfectly fine. All four suits check out.”

Wait.

“You checked all the suits? Even ours?”

“Yes, we wanted to make sure they were in good order and free of any sabotage. So we simply showed up early and checked all of them.”

“I am quite capable of checking my own suit.”

Seth chose to be insulting.

“Yeah, but we do it better. Don't want you missing something. That way if you die, it's all our fault and we get lynched.”

I still gave my suit a quick once over without seeming to. Just in case. I didn't like what this job was making me turn into. I found it hard to trust anymore... I could only hope I was the only one it was doing it too. Too much of this, and none of us would ever trust each other again.

I was pretty sure Joe at the very least, noticed me running the quick inspection. But he didn't say anything. And we all suited up with the ease of long practice. Though I was sure Guido didn't go EVA much. Probably no more than the minimum.

We locked the door behind us, using my code and nanites. One of the few perks of being the captain, I could lock anything and anyone out, unless I was declared unfit. Maybe the chief engineer could reverse it... but our chief engineer was currently unfit for duty. And the doctor could possibly do it by declaring me unfit first, but that would take a hearing.

Anyone in here with us, should not be able to get out that way. Of course, that only left an estimated hundred ways to enter or exit. And it was out job to check every single one.

…..........................................................

I watched captain traitor seal the first old hatch that no one ever used. He was giving the job due diligence, I had to admit. Welding it shut AND welding sensors for motion, our signal bearing nanites as well as a camera microphone and motion sensor. All of this was also welded in place, and covered by a fairly tough tamper proof cage while Guido played lookout.

A bit bulky but I approved. Of course there were ways to bypass it, but any bypass would result in at least one of the sensors going off. There were ways to defeat that as well, but it was too much effort for the gain; there were other entrances. I doubt even that bastard son of alien technology knew them all.

I doubt my old mentor even knew of the entrance I liked to use, for the simple expedient that there was no way he would ever fit in it. I discovered it by accident when upgrading some wiring to one of the newer motors regulating the modular function of some of our cargo spaces.

Some of our cargo bays for certain types of cargo (like the remains of the small comet worked on by Seth and Joe) could expand in size, or contract to better hold cargo; shifting cargo could actually generate a fair amount of movement of the ship itself, which we would need to burn costly fuel to correct.

The design was supposed to be a way to offset the problem; and just outside of the home solar system, it had proven flawed. The motors had proven insufficient to 'hugging' truly weighty cargo, and had a tendency to jam due to the dust and grit that often floated free in the empty spaces.

To further add insult to injury, the amount of motion generated by rampaging cargo had been overestimated. It really wasn't the problem the first gen builders had thought it might be.

So the old motors had to be replaced in favor of an encapsulated system which was smaller... and which also didn't work, due to the same dust. And then the entire system was decommissioned. It hadn't been used in my lifetime.

So, a little known fact; if you could ignore the crap floating around and ignore the feelings of claustrophobia and faint stirrings of panic, you could work your way through the old motor cowling and then into one of the fuel feeds. Which led into the engineer service tunnels behind, and into the main drive section.

All you had to do was be smaller than any human had a right to be, and know that the entire mechanism was disabled. Well that or balls of steel, and I was fresh out of those. They were probably in a jar that Oddball kept somewhere to gloat over. I had however made sure to disable one entire engine from the loop, decommissioned or not.

The problem was I wasn't sure how much longer I would be able to use it myself. I was growing.

Oh no, I wasn't finally hitting a growth spurt and gaining height; that would have been too easy, and a silver lining. I was growing... bumpy. I don't think I was gaining weight.... but my chest was killing me. All jiggly and maddening itch. And my butt, well, if it continued to balloon out there was no way I'd be able to make it through this hidden entrance of mine; I'd almost gotten stuck on my way in this morning.

I suppose I could hollow out the fuel line, but I was loathe to do that; we might need it later.

I had a pretty good idea why Claire used to ask if she looked fat in her clothes now though; cold comfort indeed.

The good news is I had only come this way to check the opposition; they were finally getting going on the offense, after weeks of being defensive. I still don't think they figured out how I managed to 'shave' Lissa and her chief hench-witch, but I was pretty sure they figured out the blue additive to the showers.

A great prankster once told me to never pull the same trick twice, and I was sticking to it; which was why the girl's badge of shame would be different than the blue man group's. It was hard to think of something at the same time brutal yet harmless, that would cause no lasting damage and not interfere with their jobs.

Besides, I hadn't actually cracked the code on the voter list yet; I wasn't sure what Oddball had used, but it was something I had little experience with. For all my skills I wasn't an experienced cryptologist.

I had acted on the guys mostly out of rage and spite, and I wasn't sorry for it; I was pretty sure who had voted against me there; the women were more guesswork than I was comfortable with. I was pretty sure Lissa and her hench-witches had voted against me, but what of Claire? What of Marion? What of Brun?

I had a feeling they could have gone either way, but at the same time I didn't want to know. I don't think I could ever really forgive the people on that list. Some of them were pure unmitigated jerks, sure. Some of them did not like me at all, and that was mutual; those people I could sort of understand voting against me.

But my friends? Those I trusted, voting away my identity as if it were something shameful or worthless, to be washed away by blood and tears for the sake of convenience? For their own convenience?

How could anyone forgive such a thing?

I heard them in the hallways and in their private spots, thinking they were safe from prying eyes and ears. They dared talk of trust; of how they would never be able to trust me again after the crimes I've pulled. What the hell sort of nonsense is that? Do they really not realize who broke trust with whom? If not, I feel honor bound to show them.

Still, it wouldn't do to target the wrong people.

But for now, I was gathering information. It seemed as if, true to form, they were focusing on making sure I did not double back and get behind them as they tried to run me to ground. Captain traitor was right in that the main drive section of the Magellan should be dealt with last; it was undeniably my turf.

I had both worked and played there since I was six, after all. No one currently active knew that particular section better than I; not even the other engineers. There, no one could match me. There, I could finally get some full measure of revenge against my betrayers and tormentors.

I was finally getting into the swing of using my altered body, having spent most of my enforced time off just learning how to move again. The number Oddball had done on me was surprisingly thorough, but confidence was slowly returning. I had had more time than I expected, but less than I needed. I would have to start layering my traps tonight.

And I would be hampered by the fact that I wouldn't be able to place them indiscriminately, or I'd be keeping the engineers who were seeing to the well being of the ship from doing their jobs. Which in itself limited the number of places I could make my first stand.

Squeezing my body, a traitor all it's own, though through no fault of it's own back through my make-shift entrance was even more claustrophobic than normal... there was a moment when I truly thought I was stuck. A vigorous shimmy got me through.

I needed a shower.

Captain traitor thought he had the residential hub locked down... and he did. He had all the vents and tubes locked, welded shut, and sensor warded. Both the quarters and corridors both. However the residential hub was not the only place to get a shower on the Magellan; nor was it the only place to get a good night's sleep.

Near one of the old, now unused outer hatches, one that used to be one of the new and most used outer hatches when the ship was being constructed, there was an old decommissioned infirmary. The place was actually a storeroom converted to the purpose for the treatment of work related accidents.

At the time, those people working furiously to save humanity tended to cut their suit or crush their limbs with power tools due to a rather normal tendency to hurry. A surprising number of those tended to survive, for all that they needed replacements. Eyes bursting from the lack of pressure was common, but replacements were at the time, easy to implant.

All the medications and equipment (as well as the replacement eyes) had of course long since been removed or recycled, but the beds an other anomalous amenities were still in place, for all that the place was listed as a storeroom. Having one's mother as chief medical officer for years had some benefit, after all.

It had the added benefit of being off the beaten path, though it was on the list for tonight's sweep, which meant today was the last day I could use it. Luckily it was only one of my bolt holes. It wasn't even the only one with a shower, though this one was the most comfortable one left.

Finally arriving, I pulled myself through the vent and replaced it, adding my own sensors to it. Then I made sure the door was locked and sealed, and added my alarm there too; it would chime extra loud if attempts were being made to open it...then delay the order for two minutes, more than long enough for me to get away, provided they didn't know for sure that I was here.

If they did, they would simply seal off the entire wing; that way when I tried to run they could track me down. They would likely do it by flooding the vents with radioactive dust; easily treatable, it would allow them to track me. The only reason they didn't just flood the ship now was that cleanup afterward would be terrible.

One section could be done; the entire ship, and the dust would cause illness or other problems before we could clean it all up.

The shower was almost too hot, and very warm. The tang of rust from the old tank (the real reason this was a great bolt hole) was almost gone now, and the water almost clear. It worked to get me and my clothes clean... or clean-ish at any rate, in the case of my clothes. Yes I knew how to use water and soap to wash my clothes, which was a must because I no longer had access to the normal sonic machines we used.

I didn't really want to wash clothes by hand, but it was either that or go naked. The outfit shirt, shorts, and overall combo I was using was the last one to fit me. It had been a little loose before. The normal clothes I'd grabbed at the start of this were beginning to get a little tight.

And the shirts... well this one was the only one that fit and didn't chafe. I wasn't sure what it was made of, but it was soft. I needed to get some more; a heist was in order. I could also take care of Claire's punishment while there, provided she was on the list. I hadn't cracked that list in two weeks, and I was beginning to get impatient again. I'd also heard her talking when she thought no one else could be listening in on her conversations.

Claire was as good a target as any.

This day started much like any other. No sooner had I woken up and unstrapped myself, then a call came.

“Captain, we could use you at the mess.”

This time it was Claire, of all people. I thought that Mouse and Claire were fast friends. Why would he do anything to her? Maybe I was wrong and it was the mess hall itself that was hit... but if so, how? We had sealed the mess hall in the first few days, part of locking down our food supply. Maybe Marion had been the target?

Well no sense in just wondering; I would find out as soon as I got there.

“On my way.”

Getting dressed was faster now; I had long since taken up the idea of leaving clothes out on the corner of my bed after the first few middle of the night calls. My toes had thanked me; even with voice activated lights they had found every sharp corner of my furniture it was possible to stumble over.

I couldn't even drink the drink I had made, I'd run out yesterday. Maybe Marion would have some tea waiting for me.

“Yo Sieg, come in.”

“Yes, mon capitan?”

“I might be late to the bridge.”

A slight pause before the reply.

“Again?”

I nodded, even though Siegfried (as well was anyone else; the corridors were empty) were not in any position to see it.

“Hey, be thankful I'm not having you do it.”

This mess was my fault. So I should be the one to deal with it.

“Oh I am captain, I am. So where was it this time?”

“Claire called from the mess hall.”

Even through the customary burst of static, the worry was easy to hear.

“Ahh, shit. I hope she didn't do anything to the food supply.”

Siegfried had been the one to lock down the mess hall in the first place.

“Relax, I'm sure the food is fine and it's just something else.”

Of course, I was right. And in a way, it was worse. Marion handed me tea without a word, and crooked a finger at me. I followed her and found Claire in a hidden nook in the kitchen... wearing nothing but a tablecloth thrown clumsily around her. At her feet lay the remains of clothing, all in various pieces. Claire was clumsily resewing her shirt, muttering some choice words I pretended not to hear.

“So.. Mouse?”

She stood up and was in my face so fast the tablecloth was in real danger of falling off.

“You're darn right it was! Somehow she treated my clothes with dissolving nanite paste! Every stitch corroded to nothing by the time I got here for breakfast! I mean, I thought they felt odd but they looked fine and....”

I wasn't sure I dared touch her. Claire had a mean right cross, and she was pretty angry.

“Look calm down, OK? Explain it from the beginning, please. Any detail might be important.”

Both Claire and Marion were looking at me as if I had suddenly sprouted a second head. Marion took over while Claire went back to her needlework, muttering. Again I pretended not to hear.

“Look Claire came in dressed in her usual. She had spent the night at the Commisary, rather than her own quarters.”

I nodded. Some crew with jobs tying them to specific places, like Claire and Marion, spent nights there as often as at their own place. It was both laziness and a form of cheap security.

“Well she woke up, saw everything in the same place, and got dressed. On the walk down she noticed something seemed a little off. At first she just thought Mouse had gotten a little free with itching powder – but it turned out the truth was much worse. Her clothes started falling off her in pieces as she stepped through my door, and I ordered everyone out. I escorted her to the back, then gathered up the pieces while she called you.”

I inspected a piece. Only the thread was missing... which meant the nanites had been ever so carefully applied with no mistakes and an almost slavish focus. Without any doubt, the hallmarks of Mouse's handiwork. I winced as Claire spoke, a little more calm and matter of fact now.

“What's worse is I had welded my vent grates on myself, and they are still on and haven't been tampered with. I'm not sure how he got in, but assuming he did there is a hole somewhere. Which means he could have gotten into the commissary as well. I think we need to check that... once I get my clothes presentable enough.”

Silly.

“We don't have time for you to do that; Finish sewing them later; for now borrow something from Marion and let's go. Even if it's too late to stop her, we can at least find some clues. Heck if nothing else, we might be able to figure out where she is based on what she took... assuming she managed to get in, of course.”

There was no doubt in my mind that she had managed to get in. The only real question is how. It obviously wasn't through the vents in Claire's shop. Could it have been through the vault itself? But if so, how did she get past the guard? Marion left to get something for her to wear. I'd ask why that didn't happen until I arrived afterwords; not sure it was important now.

And why target Claire at all? Weren't they friends?

“So why would Mouse target you anyway?”

She stiffened momentarily, the only sign of distress. Her voice was calm as she answered.

“I'd guess she found out about me voting for her getting Oddball's little tune up, and decided to show how displeased she was with me.”

….what?

Of all the people I had suspected of voting to screw Mouse over, Claire was the last on the list. Dead last on it, right behind Marion. They had been friends literally forever, and this made no sense. Marion was next to last because, well, I suspected Marion had a thing for Mouse. But Claire voting yes on Mouse changed everything.

“...Why would you ever do that? Why would you ever turn on Mouse that way?”

She gave me a loaded look.

“Why would you?”

Now that was very confusing.

“What do you mean? I didn't betray him. I tried to stop all this! I voted against it, because I knew what would happen. And it has, pretty much everything that I suspected would happen has happened. I do admit though, I did not expect you to vote against Mouse. You, of all people.”

Marion was taking a suspiciously long time to get clothes.

“Why? I think she'd be happier as one. She's far better suited to being a girl than boy. And she's safer as one too.”

Again, what?

“What do you mean?”

Claire opened her mouth, but closed it again as Marion strode in bearing a large frown.

“Well, I did the best I could, but it'll likely be a little... small. I guess it's better than sewing your own back together, since time is of the essence.”

“I'll make do, at least until I can get back to my place.”

Then she turned to me and pointed an imperious finger.

“Get out.”

Of course I got out. Marion, oddly enough, was right behind me. And while she was here, and no one else was in earshot (as the cafeteria was empty, oddly enough for breakfast) I decided to ask one of the invasive questions I'd been sitting on.

“So, were there any witnesses to this event with Claire?”

Marion took a moment to get what I was trying to imply tactfully; then she grinned.

“Nah, I mean her clothes were coming off by the time she came in, but I shoo'd everyone out and hustled her in the back before the big reveal. Which reminds me, since she's decent we can probably open up again.”

She had actually locked up? Since all the public doors save certain bathrooms let me in automatically, I hadn't noticed. There hadn't been a line outside, but a few people trickled in as she keyed the door. Seth and Joe, who always ate here, as well as Eric and Dirk. An odd set to hang out together as those last two were.

I shrugged as they walked up and grabbed their morning bread... I had much more important things to worry about.

“Alright, let's go. I hope she didn't ruin too much.”

We left before Eric could manage to corner us on why Claire was wearing ill fitting clothes and walking out with me. Chances were he knew enough, and would find out the entire story in gory detail later, but he wouldn't from me. How Claire could remain so stoic in light of her coming embarrassment among the entire crew was beyond me.

At least she wouldn't be the social pariah Mouse was doomed to become; provided we ever managed to talk her down. I was seriously beginning to doubt at this point. The only alternative I could think of was some kind of prison, and I didn't see that working; Mouse was the chief engineer, and the only one fully trained as such. We needed her. She couldn't do her job behind bars, even if the bars could be made sturdy enough to hold her.

The rest of the walk was silent; we did not encounter any other crew; the others were probably at breakfast or on shift. People didn't usually go to the shop until after their shift, and the lone corridor leading to the shop and vault was often empty for hours. I often wondered if the quartermasters were lonely, spending such time alone. The one time I'd asked, Claire had just given me a strange look and said no.

We both entered the vault easily, of course. Claire had access, and I always had access. A statement on our trust both from the ship (Oddball) and the community (our crew).

Walking right in, we crossed the small bridge like corridor meant to act like a medieval moat and entered the vault proper. We passed the obviously still active security drone along the way. Supposedly this entrance was the only way into the vault itself, so it made sense for any guards to be here.

The vault itself was almost as large as the Ark below, and perhaps the cryo chamber where the earlier generations were kept. And of course it was filled floor to ceiling with vacuum packed boxes, as far as the eye could see through the narrow twisting halls. Each box was strapped in of course, the extremely tough mesh netting looped int eye-bolts rated for extreme weights or force.

Most of it was filled with things like denim, thread, certain plastics... things we could no longer make without a planet, no matter how sophisticated our manufacturing plant was. The true marvel of the Magellan was that it could manufacture or jury-rig a good 90% of everything it was made of; the other 10% was in stock here as well, by the dozens and routinely inspected by the quartermaster and an engineer.

So far, those parts that couldn't be manufactured had held, in some cases far beyond their supposed lifespan. The only one that even registered as a distant concern was the fission coils; magnetic coils built to very precise tolerances, one had already burned out, and the first replacement was considered defective upon inspection. That left the Magellan with around 70 less years in space than it had been allotted for, in the best case scenario.

We should find a planet of some kind to colonize well before then. At least, according to theory. We were headed to one of the closest systems to our former home, after all. The DaVinci was the one in real trouble; they had the farthest route to travel, and had been the last ship built. In fact, they were still under construction when we left. Who knows what kind of shoestring budget and parts they had been forced to make do with; the Magellan had almost bankrupted several countries.

Countries were an odd concept; nationalities meant next to nothing next to survival. Ideologies themselves meant next to nothing. Race, even less than nothing. Not that the old concept of race wasn't flawed anyway. Humans were a race, humans of a different color or genetic markers could still breed with each other. Like dogs supposedly, there might be many types, shapes, and sizes, but all were able to breed and therefore still the same race. Any other definition of the word made no sense at all.

“Hey, you there? Mind on task there, Captain.”

Whoops. Claire as staring at me, arms folded in front of her and tapping a foot. I ignored how it pushed her already tightly wrapped assets further up.

“Alright, sorry. So how do we find out if anything is taken?”

She gave me another look, but started off waving for me to follow.

“Well some of the boxes and crates have sensors in them, designed to activate an alarm in the even of tampering, but I doubt Mouse would have been fooled by those; after all she knew the system exists. So likely we will have to rely on a good old fashioned visual inspection.”

I stopped, staring down the hall. A visual inspection with just the two of us, no matter how cursory, would take HOURS, if not days. And if it was just a quick search, chances were we would never find the clues needed to tell us what Mouse took and why.

“Oh relax Captain, at the moment we are just looking for signs of entry. Mouse couldn't have covered all of those up, assuming she did get it this way; it'll be much faster to check for that. No sense jumping to conclusions yet.”

I nodded but didn't voice my thoughts. If Claire had been hit, I was all but certain the vault had as well. I didn't know why, but I was sure. Was it wrong of me to assume such? Was I giving Mouse too much credit? I caught myself shrugging again. Only time would tell. I did hope my intuition was wrong though. The first official hunt for Mouse would begin tonight after all, I'd need my rest for it.

All in all, it took less than an hour. Mouse had left a nice big sign or her presence; footprints.

They were small, lined in some sort of engine grease, and led back into the crankshaft of one of the engines powering the drawbridge. The access hatch was in place, but that was where the footsteps led. How she had gotten in there and through was anyone's guess. I couldn't fit in there to check, and I was fairly sure Claire couldn't either. She summed up our feelings nicely however.

“Well... shit. Wonder how long that hole has been there.”

“Probably isn't there, for anyone but the Mouse.”

We followed the footsteps to the other side. Unfortunately they cut completely off about halfway down one hall, as if done on purpose. I knew it was too good to be true.

“What is in this aisle?”

“Chemicals and samples of exotic metals, mostly. Like silver, used in microchip manufacture, or metallic hydrogen. Some of the samples from the home galaxy lie here too.”

Chemicals... ugh, she could be doing anything. From just bolstering her own stock of hydroponic supplies to building a bomb. Heck, she could even be experimenting on new sorts of floor cleaners. A check of the mesh down the aisle revealed nothing out of place. I guess I'd find out when we finally caught her. When she made a mistake.

Or when she allowed us to catch her.

“Look, with all due respect Captain... get out. I need to get changed and then clean this mess up. We both know there aren't any more clues here.”

The translation was: we both know she led us here to rub our noses in dirty grease and failure.

What else could I do? I left.

“Seig.”

“Yes Captain?”

Hmm, polite and respectful; the ship must be seconds from breaking apart somehow.

“Anything new to report?”

Translation: did Mouse screw up anything else while I wasn't looking?

“No, all quiet Captain.”

A minor miracle.

“All right Seig, I'm coming up. Be there soon.”

I really needed some more tea. Then I needed something stronger in it.

…................................................................

The camera monitors revealed all. Hearing her say it... hearing Claire, that betraying witch say it outright, had made me want to break things. Or faces. And to say I'd be happier this way.. to put this all on me in that fashion? What drugs had she stolen from medical? Even with the second trick I pulled on her, she got off lucky. I had a wide variety of pictures of her in shock, the remains of her clothes in tatters around her. They warmed my heart.

I could even send them to someone, or every member of the crew, were I so inclined. She got off easy after all though; no lifetime friend voted to have her breasts chopped off and put in a bell jar.

I was pretty sure Oddball had preserved what he took; artificial insemination was unreliable, but it could still work, and I was secretly hoping he'd pick Claire for the honors. That and make it painful. Maybe if I asked nicely... I mean, she wouldn't have to know, would she? Or maybe I'd tell her.

After all, I should know... pain did not necessarily prevent one from doing their job.

I'd gone over the repair schedule; it wasn't like they could keep me out. In fact I suspected that bastard A.I. of lightening the security on the work orders on purpose. It was all busy work mostly, I'd done the hard stuff before being stabbed in the back by my friends. No doubt Oddball had planned those events too; I knew doing all the heavy maintenance was suspicious. I should have looked deeper, not that it really would have mattered.

On the other hand, I really owed Lissa, Carla, and Milla really good apologies. The short list of people who didn't vote to shaft me have all three of their names on it. Claire, Joe, Seth, Marion, even Siegfried had voted against me. Eric had too, but that was expected. But the terrible trio had not, and that surprised me utterly.

It made me glad I didn't murder them, though I was very confused now. Having those three in my corner somehow while my own supposed friends happily vote to screw meant that nothing would likely ever make sense again. I'd have to ask them when I apologized.

Roger had voted in favor too of course. I owed him for that. And I'd save him for last. For him no expense would be spared. I watched as the team put together for the purpose of finding where I'd gone to ground, finally found my old, favorite home away from home. They were about two hours behind the schedule I'd given them. So many names, so little time....

…..........................................................

“Captain.”

The voice was scratchy and sounded old, somehow. I knew exactly who it was.

“Go ahead Guido.”

“We found one of Mouse's boltholes.”

We'd been finding those all over. All of them so far had been false trails.

“A real one?”

I could almost see the terse nod from the tone in his voice.

“A real one this time. Not much to see, but enough to be able to tell.”

Now I was curious.

“Where?”

“By one of the old airlocks; a decommissioned first generation medical bay. Seems it had leftover supplies, which Mouse made use of.”

Of course; she did know the ship better than any of us; I knew the dank chamber he was speaking of, but I'd only been there once and in passing, as a kid taking the tour with my parents. Mouse though, she had the run of the ship from an early age, much more than the rest of us. So of course she'd remember. Which led to me spending the journey to the spot wracking my brain for any other such places not yet covered. I couldn't think of any.

The room in question was indeed a decommissioned medical bay used for treat construction accidents. A quick glance at the flimsy glass cabinets, currently half empty, was enough to confirm that. Guido stepped up.

“The door had an older model sensor, but it was spoofed in order to allow no entry. She used the vent back there as her entrance. She cleaned up everything well but there are traces of blood under UV and we typed it as hers.”

Well that was new; there hadn't been blood in any of the other locations.

“Where and how much?”

“Just traces and mostly the shower. The recycling bin hasn't emptied itself yet today; we found old fashioned gauze, some traces of pain medication, and some of those old food tubes. Uneaten.”

“No surprise, they were probably bad. Those and the medication couldn't last forever.”

“Well the medicine was vacuum sealed capsules.”

I nodded. So he'd found the packaging for those. Old Earth stock. Pills like those would still be very potent. How Mouse had found some was anyone's guess; the Magellan was supposed to be out of stock on those, for at least ten years. Probably closer to twenty; after all, we could synthesize our own. Gen 1 had been fairly well pampered, but they also had the tendency to hoard things, especially things from Earth.

“Captain.”

This call was from Brunhilde, who was filling in as chief engineer. She was trying very hard, but despite the help I'd been assigning her she was slowly getting overwhelmed.

“I've found something. Something you need to see.”

I couldn't suppress the sigh. The master plan, finally being revealed perhaps? The bomb found? I turned back to Guido.

“Alright, try and track her by heat if you can, use the little drones if you have to. Try and find traces of where she went... you know the drill.”

He nodded.

“I do indeed; I'm on it Captain.”

It took some extra doing to find Brunhilde, who wasn't at the standard engineer's post. The tracker tied to my pad showed her in the cryo storage chamber. No doubt running the daily check. My blood went as cold as space itself.

Had Mouse done the unthinkable, and sabotaged the sleepers?

I ran, pounding down the corridor without a second thought. If anyone saw me do this, there would be rumors and consequences later; but I didn't see anyone. I didn't even see the corridor itself. My father had once mentioned a blind panic, but I hadn't thought he was serious. Evidently he was; it could happen after all.

Out of breath I stomped up to Brunhilde, currently watching the sleepers sleep. The cryo tubes I could see displays from all appeared to be in the green; functioning perfectly with no warnings.

“What's wrong Brun?”

She looked startled and wore a faint feel of shock like a blanket.

“Nothing's wrong, that's whats wrong.”

That made me pause.

“What do you mean?”

She pointed to the sensor panel leading to the sensors designed to detect intruders or tampering.

“Well, I was checking the sleepers when I noticed something.”

She pulled off the cover. A few of the sensors had been tampered with. I wasn't even sure what had been done; I couldn't understand the bypass.

“So what is it?”

“The sensors chiming an alarm have been rerouted; they now chime to somewhere else, remotely, in the even of an emergency. The ambient heat anomaly sensors have been shut off. When I thought about why I grabbed a portable unit and came back. Turns out there are traces of a person being in here no less than 4 hours ago, and that person isn't logged. The door wasn't used to grant entry.”

I stated it out loud, more for the ordering of my own thoughts more than anything else.

“So she's been here.”

Brun nodded and continued; there was more.

“This made me curious, so I followed up; not only has Mouse been inspecting the tubes, she corrected a flaw in one that could have posed a problem. I also checked deeper, and some work orders from engineering logged by Oddball never got to my pad. The reason for that is they were posted then completed before I ever came on shift, and then the work order deleted, at least for me. In every case the job was something that, well, I'd have a hard time doing properly, at least the first time. Ir no time for, as I was trying to seal vents. Fuel purity calibration in manufacturing plant 2 for example. I don't even know what fuel that plant is manufacturing offhand.”

I nodded absently.

“Hydrogen I believe; cut just enough with water to avoid starting a fire in the mixing chamber.”

So all this time, and Mouse had still been behaving as the chief engineer, all while dodging us. No wonder Oddball was silent. This situation confused me; no matter how good an AI is, something like this would confuse them too. Now, what to do about it?

“Brun, I want you to seal all the vents to this room, the same way we sealed habitation.”

“Understood. Want me to make sure the door isn't hacked as well, right?”

“Right.”

Knowing what I now knew gave me options. So Mouse was still doing her job, despite her anger with us. Perhaps a Mousetrap was in order.

The vents to the sleepers were closed. Well, Brunhilde had finally found my bypass then. It was really too bad they hadn't thought to check the security bot; if they had they would have seen that it had orders to patrol the sleepers with regularity, as well as send it's sensor feed log to one of the old common computer drives, where I could view it with no more than twenty seconds worth of time delay. It wasn't as good as actually being there but it would suffice, so long as Brunhilde kept up her own inspections.

I was certain there was a trap there, and I really wanted to spring it. But so far, I was at a loss as to how. And thinking on the problem while outside one of the newly welded grates, in the vent system, was probably not the best idea.

I backed out and turned around in the intersection; There were no sensors or drones in sight down any of the vents, and a quick check of my pad confirmed there was nothing in range. I turned the scan on myself; I hadn't tracked through any dyes or radioactive substances. So I fought down the nagging feeling that I was missing something, and kept on.

I still took a random circuitous route to my current hiding place, a small nook near engine number three. Brunhilde actually walked past it on her rounds every day, something that struck me as a little odd; I used a different path, which I felt was more efficient. But either way it was a fun coincidence – I waved to her every time I saw her go by, not that she could see it.

The stranglehold on the ship was getting tighter; I could no longer safely travel to certain decks and my loving crew were searching for me even now. I knew it was only a matter of time, but it was too soon. They hadn't caught me yet however, I had more cards yet to play.

A beep from my pad brought home how few I had left though; a quick wave brought up images of small exploration rovers, some used for repair, some tasked for eventual planet exploration, and all with motion sensors affixed to them.

They were scanning the vents in teams of two, and I thought I saw taser weapons like the security bots used. They had just entered my own motion detection field, and for all that it was set some distance away from me, the images showed an all encompassing net reaching front to back. A little more investigation showed the hunters themselves, also in teams of two. Checking all the halls and then somehow coaxing the blast shield doors behind them, even though there was no emergency calling for them. Well it seems even Oddball was finally getting into the act. He couldn't have been in computer 'working' hell forever. It lasted longer than I had expected, but not as much as I'd hoped.

I dressed and geared up. I included a few weapons of my own in that, as well as a nice novel defense I'd read about against electricity. I would not make it easy on them; not now, not ever.

.........................................................................................................................

Mouse had avoided the trap; it was really too much to expect her not to see it I guess, but it could have easily solved all this. Unfortunately this wasn't going to end bloodlessly at all. Oh, I wasn't sure she had been by to see the sleepers, but I was fairly sure she had.

Each end of each vent had been capped, then a small plate added to the roof of each in a very low tech trap. If mouse had moved to the end of the vent to physically look out, the plate should have dropped. They were heat based, with the heat of a hand or other body part activating it. But it hadn't happened, and all the effort to set it up had been useless. I knew it had been a mistake not to include the radioactive tracking dust. She would have seen it, neutralized it, and come ahead, thinking she had countered us.

But she would have likely spotted the ruse anyway.

So plan B, the lengthy one. Anyone not on shift would be walking the halls, using remote drones to check and seal the vents. And Oddball had finally come back from it's lengthy vacation, and agreed to seal the halls after the hunting parties passed so that Mouse couldn't circle behind us. I wasn't too thrilled about the fact that the search had been forced to start at the front of the ship to the back; that meant that the final showdown was likely to occur on Mouse's home turf, engineering. Where there were many highly breakable things that, once broken, could ruin us all.

A good twenty of us cutting the ship into manageable segments and cutting off all retreat. Success was all but assured, but the cost to be paid by next morning would be significant. I didn't want to declare it a sick day or anything similar because Oddball would be relatively unwatched for a day. Knowing what I know now, I couldn't claim that the paranoia of previous generations regarding Oddball was unfounded. Future generations, reading my log, would be doubly warned. Mandatory reading for our mandatory civics class, but the logs of earlier generations had nothing on this. It was even worse than the accident that actually led to this entire situation.

“Captain. Sector 8 clear.”

Right, time to focus. Sector 8 was the section in the upper deck and just before the bridge; it contained many of the back bone systems and their access points. With it secure we didn't have to worry about the bridge sensor systems dying to sabotage. Not that that helped; they were blind anyway, at least when it came to spotting Mouse.

“Understood team 4. Next assignment is sector 12.”

We were actually using paper copies of the schematics of the Magellan to co-ordinate this; I didn't consider our pads secure. I didn't want Mouse opening a hole in the net by sending two teams to the same sector, and this way even if Mouse attempted to hack into our secure communication line and impersonate me. I did want her to try and hack our comm line and attempt to impersonate me so that I could trace her.

No such luck, though I expected our conversations were already hacked into. I also expected Mouse had other means of tracking us all, but I'd had the ship's internal sensor package checked multiple times by everyone who had a chance to detect tampering, and they had found nothing.

“Captain, come on. We'll be behind.”

I turned to Marion, my partner for the day. She was hugging herself, while appearing to check her clothes. She was tense, anxious; she had not been a target of Mouse yet, but she was all but certain she would be now. As one not hit by Mouse yet, she was now in the minority. In short, she felt she was due. That or she felt Mouse was rapidly becoming irrational. I thought that out of any of us, she was safe. But she had requested to work with me, citing worries over violence. I was a big guy after all.

I didn't believe it of course, Mouse was much smaller than Marion was, and while she was an undisputed master at hand to hand, she had no history of real violence. It was far more likely that Marion was hoping her presence would protect me. She wasn't alone in thinking I would be targeted at some point.

“Right. Sector 9 clear.”

As soon as we moved across the blast door threshold, the normally well hidden door slid from the ceiling and rolled shut with a loud locking crash. With the vents closed by grates and motion detection, and all of that patrolled by security bots like the one following us, that section of the Magellan was now as secure as we could make it.

With that door rolled into place, the ship was effectively cut in half at this point. And there was still no sign; not even an old bolt hole. Our next section was sector 22, which was Marion's turf; the cafeteria and pantry behind it. I had assigned everyone who could be, areas of or near their usual stomping grounds, in the hope they knew more about the area and it's hiding places than the Mouse.

The cafeteria was closed, the electric sign showing declaring it closed for the day due to the search. For the first time in my memory; the one place on the ship normally open to all and at all hours was closed. Well, I didn't count medical; normally the doctor or nurse on duty slept there I couldn't remember if it had been closed before, but it wasn't that important. The detail seemed sad somehow, as if it were a statement on how everything was falling apart, and so quickly.

It had had few hiding places, at least in the main hall. The kitchen had a few, but those were easily and rapidly checked. The scanner in his hand didn't chime once, Marion and he had already been programmed into it, and no one else was supposed to be active in the area. He had made sure that all awake hands were pressed into service or on the bridge, and the rest knew enough to stay put unless they had an emergency.

Sure they were all programmed into the system, but without the network they normally used, there could be precious seconds spent chasing a signal only to find out it was someone we didn't care to catch. And I didn't dare plug them unto their network, or it would be hacked in under an hour. Even if Oddball sat on the system itself, I didn't deem it safe.

“Alright, next up, the pantry.”

I was not looking forward to the pantry, it was almost as big as Claire's territory. An absolutely huge section of the ship, where most of our food was kept, the freezer unit alone was four times as big as the mess hall itself. The refrigeration section was even larger. Rows upon rows of netted racks bolted to the floor, storing frozen and non frozen foods. The displays at each rack contained dates the item in question would spoil, all linked to the computer in the kitchen. I didn't think any of it was tampered with, and Marion had double checked all the dates and agreed with me.

There were even some canned and vacuum sealed things; We had our own small machines for each. All Marion's job now. Some people had more time consuming jobs than others. And she hadn't once spit in the soup, which was probably more than anything else, why she had gotten the job, family affair or not.

After a week making food for all of us, despite the help we gave, and cleaning up what the janitor bots couldn't handle, I likely would have done something impolite.

“What is it?”

She was looking at me, a decidedly unfriendly look, and I realized I had been staring.

“Nothing, sorry. Was just thinking about how I wouldn't like your job.”

She laughed in my face.

“Yours is worse. You couldn't pay me in strawberries to take over this tub for a day.”

“Well I can't deny that, though the idea of taking care of all this isn't a pleasant one.”

She grinned, her earlier look melting from her face as the warmth of the expression hit it.

“Not to you, maybe. But I like it here.”

We went down every rack, leaving the bot to watch the door and motion detectors in front of us. I insisted we go in a pair down each row, and Marion didn't argue. For some reason it was silent and subdued, save for random assignment check ins from other groups. Maybe it was what we were doing, maybe it was the atmosphere, or maybe it was just me. The place took almost a full hour to canvas just by walking around with the detectors and peering into random darkened corners at Marion's direction.

No Mouse, and no missing food.

We walked out and I crossed another sector off the list; next up for us was sector 25, otherwise known to the crew as the gym. We wouldn't be leaving that area for two hours, at least. I didn't expect that Mouse would be in the gym either, it was too crowded, too often used. It was supposed to be empty now however, which was why when the motion detector chimed in my hand I almost dropped it. I raised it up, so that both Marion and I could look at the display.

Forward, around 10 o clock, and at just over 300 yards something was moving. That put the subject in the female rest room. Our motion detectors had no problem penetrating walls. I heard some of the early ones used to, but it was a silly limitation; after all, if the current ones had that limitations, we'd never find Mouse. Or really anyone or anything. Generation 1 had a real mouse/vermin problem at one point, until these detectors were employed.

We rushed to door silently by mutual consent, but I had to motion the bot back to cover our entrance in case whoever it was, or someone else, snuck around us. Luckily the bots were programmed to understand the most common hand gestures and respond accordingly.

The signal was moving a bit, and it looked to be hunched over in a shower stall. Just as if someone was trying to be sneaky in a shower. A quick check showed no stall on, but that could easily be spoofed. I wasn't happy; I would have to send Marion in. I could override the system as captain, but if I walked in on one of our own nude and prepping for a shower, it would be... awkward. If it was Claire or my sister for example, I likely wouldn't walk straight for a week.

A few tense minutes and Marion emerged, grinning.

“It's safe.”

She was hiding something behind her back. Whatever it was, she could hold it with one hand; her other hand was still holding her taser. She pulled it out with a broad smile.

“Mouse got us good.”

It was a small rover, much like the ones we were using to try and track her... and in the shower, no doubt running circles. In order to create movement for our sensors, and maybe rovers, to pick up. Clever, and we couldn't use the bio-sensors to eliminate them beforehand. An idle thought; how many did Mouse make? She couldn't have made many, rover parts were actually tracked. Though knowing Mouse, she'd made them from the ground up to avoid that. I'd guess no more than six.

What the plan could be involving no more than a dozen of these motion makers, I couldn't say. There had to be something more to this plan than Mouse just annoying us before we caught her.

“All teams be advised. We have caught a little something made by Mouse designed to trip the motion detectors. Be cautious when investigating odd signals. Do not let her circle behind you. That is all.”

Marion was resting her face in her palms.

“You really need to work on your delivery there, captain.”

She opened her own comm channel.

“All teams, this is Marion. Mouse is up to her usual tricks, she made a type of rover to spoof the detectors. If you see something making motion, don't automatically assume it's her.”

Then she turned back to me and walked past with that odd strut women seemed to have. Hadn't she just said what I had?

“See? Simple.”

All in all, over the next six hours, we methodically cut the ship in half, then thirds, then fourths. Our teams had found a total of eight rovers built by Mouse. She had been busy, but all they were doing was driving around randomly, which made no sense at all. They didn't even have remote computer networking gear, which meant they couldn't hack anything. There seemed to be no purpose at all. But soon only engineering was left.

We were all tired by this time, but we had to push to get this done. I handed out assignments on the fly, since there really weren't any of us that knew engineering better (or even as well) as Mouse did. At this point we needed to trust to luck.

Surely Mouse knew it was over by now? Once all the areas were closed, even the zero gravity areas thanks to our resident EVA geniuses, the game was up. It had to be. So why did it feel like she had a few more cards stacking the deck? Why was I so nervous about this? Maybe I needed a good psychiatrist. Maybe Mouse and I could share appointments with Jen. That is if she didn't kill us all somehow; or me.

All teams were hungry and thirsty. I hadn't thought to bring water, and while Marion had I didn't dream of asking her for some of her own squeeze bottle. It was a good lesson for me in the future. Despite that and despite our fatigue we had to press on. Another good four hours or more before we could all sleep.

..........................................................................................................................

I had to wait. I knew they were tired and most of them were hungry and thirsty. I knew they were bored and their motivation for finding me was flagging. I had two rovers left in my arsenal and a plan. It probably wouldn't work, but I had nothing to lose.

I couldn't deny the flutter in my heart when I found out who was actually checking out the area my last hideout was in.

It was Eric. With Lissa backing him up no less. The two people on the ship most happy to see me. If I had known how they had divvied up assignments, I'd have made it a point to be somewhere else when cornered, but Captain traitor had seen fit to make that impossible. Not that I blamed him for that... just a fair amount of everything else. Still, I wasn't about to quit or make it easy on them; I just needed to choose my moment.

Lissa was the one running the motion detector; when she passed it near me I didn't breathe or twitch. From behind a false wall created by an exhaust port for a dynamo not in use (used to feed atmosphere back into the ship; even if it a waste byproduct for the engine it still had a value) I could see them, but they couldn't see me. And thanks to a bit of tampering, it looked like it was still firmly bolted in.

It wasn't part of the ship wide vent system for obvious reasons, and was therefore safe from their rovers. I had briefly considered using my rovers to attack theirs, but that would have given the teams clues to where I was; I wasn't sure I could make it out of an area before they caught me. Besides, my rovers really weren't good enough for it, and I wasn't fond of the idea of damaging potentially valuable resources we would need later. This spot did have one thing going for it though; it was fairly close to one of the blast doors the rest of the crew was using to demarcate their search grid.

I hated being hemmed in by my own sense of honor; I kind of wished my parents had been a bit less diligent in my upbringing. Then an idle thought about what that would mean for the ship as a whole entered my head. I almost missed my chance.

When Lissa was facing away from Eric, and Eric was near my vent port, I knew it was time. I triggered my last two rovers; one directly in front of Lissa but a wall of machinery away, and the other, my best one and secret weapon, on a time delay. It worked like a charm. Lissa sounded more than bored, she sounded half asleep.

“Movement, 3pm-ish, heading away from us.”

Eric's response was just as bored sounding, and as lazy.

“Probably another rover. Go check it out; you wanted the scanner.”

Both Lissa and I stared in disbelief, but she spoke where I dared not.

“You do realize she can beat me in hand to hand, right?”

Eric smirked like the ass he was.

“Then you better tase her before she get close.”

She took off at a good clip towards the intersection she needed to hit to catch to my rover. Another seven count since the dynamic duo here took longer than expected to get their act together, and my last rover broke from the opposite hall, and whirred off.

It looked like me, or as close to me as I could make it. In the dim lightning I'd created by disabling certain lights, it looked as if I was taking advantage of the split up and was running away from their team... further into engineering, my own stomping grounds.

Eric went for the bait immediately, zipping past my hideout so fast that for a moment I'd doubted he was there.

“Mouse, I've got you now you little bitch!”

I wanted to jump out and beat the attitude out of him more than anything; after all it was his fault that unflattering word could even be used to describe me, if only in part. Instead I waited a three count and jumped out, heading towards the lowered blast door, a good distance away, As usual, Eric turned out to be my undoing, because Lissa turned at the yell.

“Eric behind you! It's Mouse!”

Eric trusted Lissa more than I expected, and I heard him skid to a stop. I poured on the speed. I was woefully out of shape but sure I could outrace both Eric and Lissa... but the problem is I needed time to hack open the blast door, so I needed some separation. I was perhaps a footstep from gaining it when the voltage poured in.

The copper chain mail did it's job, routing most of the voltage into the deck and grounding me; however I ate enough of it to force a stumble, and that was enough for Eric to keep me in sight. Heck he was even gaining. I could hear Lissa calling in the confirmed sighting.

“Team 7, Mouse confirmed in sector 52, headed towards sector 46. All teams converge.”

Lissa must have been the one to shoot first, because even as I was regaining steam and starting to pull ahead, I got zapped again. The suit again did it's job, but all the electricity did it's own. The leg Eric tagged me in went stiff and twitchy. And at most a full second later, he was on me, fists leading.

I dodged the first punch by ducking to the side, and blocked the second one with my hands... but I could only bleed that one of momentum; it still tagged me in the stomach. Luckily it wasn't enough to put me down. I saw the follow up kick coming, but it still managed to nick my temple. I forced my leg to work and spared Lissa a glance. She was there, watching and wringing her hands, shocked at the violence.

I don't think she's actually seen two guys fight before; not really. Not all out like Eric likes to do. And if anything, he as bigger than the last time we played like this. I could stop his punches before. At least Lissa was just watching, and wasn't reloading.

I couldn't let Eric pin me against the wall, so I charged him. My flying knee connected, twitchy leg or no, and bought me some space. If I turned he would be on me in a second... and getting me on the floor would be much worse than the wall. The knee rung his bell and I wasted no time, following it up with a palm strike to the cheek and an elbow strike to the temple.

None of that put him down. What had he been eating in the last month? Was he on drugs or something? I'd heard from my mother that some drugs made people resistant to pain and stronger than normal.

I could hit him at will, but where before I'd hurt him, now I just wasn't hurting him enough. Eric grinned at me though bloody lips.

“Spars are different than real fights.”

He waded right through me, taking the best punishment I had to offer, and somehow I was on the deck. He continued talking.

“When we spar, you get a hit in, and a point is declared. I have to hold my punches, and you never do. This is a fight Mouse, a real fight.”

I covered up just before he started pummeling. He didn't seem to be aiming for my face however, which was odd; He instead chose to work my body. I got in one good shot and broke his nose, but didn't have the leverage to do more than slow him down.

I wasn't about to give up though, not to Eric. It was Lissa that stopped things.

“Eric, enough! She's not going anywhere with you sitting on her, stop!”

Behind Lissa the security bot that had been shadowing both lowered it's own taser, a multi-use deal capable of lethal voltage in a pinch, with a loud clank that had to be manufactured, as Oddball's voice crackled through it.

“I concur Crewman. You will cease your assault immediately.”

He stopped, never looking away from me.

“You done?”

I nodded and lowered my hands, since I couldn't breathe. As after most fights, I was so tired I could barely move. It would take a good few minutes for me to recover. Longer this time then in the past, I suspected. My ribs creaked as he shifted, and actually got off. I couldn't help myself; I curled up. It seemed to help. Eric could probably dent steel with those punches.

“Good fight; that was for turning me blue.”

I gave him a look. He didn't seem to be lying about that, or holding a grudge. He was even smiling.

“You've been wanting to do that for awhile now.”

He nodded with a warming smile. Something was wrong here. I felt almost compelled to ask the next question.

“Why didn't you go for the jaw? You'd have likely knocked me out, and wouldn't have gotten your nose broken.”

I was under no illusions anymore that my jaw could take many of those punches of his. I was tough, but not that tough. He thumbed his nose then checked his split lip, spitting out a gob of blood like the crass barbarian he is.

“Simple. You're a girl. It isn't right to hit girls, and it's especially not right to hit girls in the face. I had to do one, but I didn't have to do the other.”

That son of a bitch. Before I knew it I was pummeling him again. Without technique however, it was over quickly. He wrapped me in his arms, pinning mine, and while it wasn't uncomfortable, I couldn't break free at all.

As the haze lifted from me I was half surprised the bot hadn't fired at me.

Lissa walked over and bopped him on the head with her empty taser, hard.

“Pig. You did that on purpose. Now let her go.”

He didn't right away, so Lissa bopped him again, this time so hard the taser broke. It was enough for him to look over her way with some clear annoyance.

Lissa and I shared a look. Just what was this jerk made of?

He kept staring and smiling at me like a dope. He seemed happy I'd busted him open, if anything. I couldn't figure it out, but it looked like Lissa had some idea. It was an awkward wait for the person I least likely wanted to see.

Well, here it was; the confrontation. I was good and caught, and cuffed with high strength plastic handcuffs that no one I knew of could break. While I could pick them, my hiding place for those lock picks I needed had all been searched. While they had missed a few, the ones they had missed weren't within easy reach of my hands; I didn't expect them to cuff my hands behind my back.

Eric was having his nose straightened and sprayed by Dirk, and all the traitors that were awake were here, packing this small hallway. There was no safe place to run to anymore, even if I could get to my feet. Security bot 14 was currently holding me down while Claire divested me of hold outs; she knew where I kept most of them. Roger looked on, an unreadable expression coating his face like ice.

“Let's see... smoke bombs, flash bangs, a device made to screw with equilibrium, two jury-rigged tasers, electromagnetic pulse grenade, two knives... and twelve lock-picks of various kinds. I think that's everything.”

Guido looked from the stash to me, incredulous.

“You could have taken these two easily with all this hardware, Mouse. Why didn't you?”

I shrugged as best I could. It was hard to explain something like that, especially when you didn't know yourself. But Roger wasn't about to leave it alone.

“Answer the question please, Mouse.”

“The tasers carried a slight risk of electrocution and nerve damage, higher than the standard ones we use. The smoke bombs and flash-bangs would have given me away in that situation, the pulse grenade would have shut down more than a few systems in engineering as well as the security bot, and the vertigo machine would have affected me too. The knives speak for themselves.”

Left unsaid was the higher level of acceptable damage they were willing to jump right to regarding me. Roger apparently couldn't understand it.

“So you just waited, tried to distract us with your drones, and then ran out of your hiding spot when their backs were turned?”

Why couldn't he just leave it alone?

“Yes, captain traitor, that's what I did. I don't have to be like you lot; I don't have to hurt my fellow crew members. I made the choice not to hurt those people that are ultimately responsible for the lives of my parents and mentor.”

Of course, I'd never trust them again, but that was beside the point. And if they didn't like the inference that they could be plotting something with the sleepers who weren't traitors, well, they had proven their loyalty to me already. They had proven what they were capable of in no uncertain terms, and the only real way I had to ensure they didn't pull anything else was with full computer access. That meant being in Oddball's good graces, which meant rejoining the crew.

Roger recoiled as if I had slapped him. I was wishing I could. Carla and Milla joined Lissa, so I turned to them.

“I owe you three an apology. I'm sorry for what I did, Lissa, Carla, Milla. You three may be incompetent, but at least you aren't traitors.”

Claire still had her foul hands on me, so I pulled away. The trio stared at me for a good silent minute, the others present staring at me in shock. I guess they didn't think I could admit to doing wrong... screw them all anyway. Roger found his voice.

“And now? What do you plan to do now?”

I shrugged again.

“You caught me. I'm done. I won't pull any more pranks or try to get revenge. I'll do my job and pull my weight like I always have; just don't expect me to like it, or you. Or you can kill me, freeze me, or lock me up, in which case you're still down a crew member and possibly need to ruin someone else's life to make your female quota.”

If they froze me or killed me after all, that left the count skewed, and I now knew that females would always be favored over males number wise. Easier to rebuild a population with more women and few men as opposed to few women and many men. Gen 1 and the Earthers made some interesting laws for the rest of us to follow. Roger sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“It was only to buy time while we thought of something Mouse. You made this difficult; you were supposed to help me find a solution, and then everything would go back to normal.”

What? This was our captain, a traitor living in a dream world.

“Gene therapy. Hormonal therapy. My genitals removed and replaced surgically. Most of that can't even be reversed, not entirely, and the rest not easily. You expected me to come up with a way to get Oddball to relent, but I'll look like this for some time to come regardless. Frick, Oddball even changed my musculature positioning! That wasn't even necessary, but the bastard son of alien tech wanted me to be as true to a real girl as possible! And as far as I can tell, he succeeded! How are we supposed to just reverse that, exactly?”

Maybe our new doctors knew of a way to pull a full reversal, but I didn't. Chances weren't good they did either; I was more intelligent and studied harder than any of them. Not to mention the last couple weeks I'd had more free time than ever before, and a thirst for medical knowledge. According to the latest scans, my brain structure had even changed subtly, and that was terrifying. Oddball could well have me stupid, tinkering like that.

The fact that tests showed he didn't – that I was still as intelligent as ever - were cold comfort. At least Roger admitted he was an idiot.

“I don't know. I was kind of hoping you would.”

“Idiot. Even with Oddball's help, what's been done to me will take months to undo. Maybe years. And that's if we can get Oddball to go along. Considering we'd need another woman to magically appear for that, it isn't likely.”

“Then what about the other alternative? The one we discussed before freeze day?”

He meant unplugging Oddball and doing it all ourselves. I remembered that conversation clearly; it was the one where he should have warned me what the psycho AI had in it's chip mind for me. Well, me and William. William wigged me out; he had taken like a duck to water to the new him, and what was now expected of him... or her. William, now Willow, was adjusting without a single complaint.

It was creepy.

“That would work as far as limiting any further damage to the crew... but then the multiple surgeries and the like to reverse everything would likely take years. I don't even know if Dirk can pull them off.”

I was sure I could given a little time, but I couldn't really operate on myself. I was willing to try for Willow, but I was positive she didn't want the help. I wasn't quite willing to give up yet, but my fate was looking pretty grim.

“And put the entire mission at risk.” Roger finished for me.

I felt the entire mission was already at risk, but the sea of faces staring into me obviously felt I was the only risk here. I felt like I was back in the cafeteria, just after the vote all over again. Oh well, it was just more confirmation that I had been wrong about a great many things.

“Apology accepted.”

Those words shocked me to the core. Lissa and her brood were forgiving me? I dumped crap on her! I'd put tablets that made stinky gas in their morning drinks! I'd scheduled them for gynecology exams at 3am! She held her hand out.

What the hell. I turned my back and stuck mine out too; and rather than take the opportunity, she shook it.

“Mouse, you mean it? You're done?”

“Yes, I meant it Captain traitor, I will prank no more... or at least no more over this. Why do you ask?”

Always try to reserve your options for the future.

“Alright. Guido, Eric, Dirk. Escort mouse to medical and give her a full check up. Guido, after that escort Mouse to her quarters and keep an eye on her. The rest of you, shows over here. Back to work, and let's relieve those covering for us. Move it people; a tired crew is a sloppy crew.”

And he walked off, back straight and head high. What a jackass. Eric lifted me easily as the security bot let go.

“Come on, princess. Time to go get probed.”

We all knew the alien reference, but I didn't find it particularly funny.

“Dirk only gets to try that if you get probed first, Eric.”

I found his nearly insufferable smirk more tolerable than Roger's attitude at least. Still his comment, his pet name, deserved an answer.

“You try and put a glass shoe on me, and you'll find it broken in a very sensitive place of yours.”

He leered down at me, not at all intimidated.

“Well you do clean up as nicely as Cinderella did. We will have to see about a gown though. Doubt we have any left on this tub. Hold still a minute.”

I held, not really having a choice, and a minute later the cuffs came off. I stared up at Eric and tried not to massage my wrists. He shrugged into my raised eyebrow.

“The boss isn't here, and there are three of us. Besides, you gave your word.”

“I did. No more pranks due to the vote. No matter how much I want to.”

We marched down the empty halls to medical, where I hopped up on the medical bed of my own accord. The bed was just as automated as it had been a month ago, and was already calibrated, so it scanned me through my clothes while Dirk watched the readings.

“Well, minor miracle considering the lack of care, but you're one hundred percent health and fit for duty. Though a few of these readings... you been snacking on multivitamins?”

“Yep, had to after you guys sealed off the cafeteria.”

I missed my grape juice. Though I'd have to continue to miss it. Claire would want to get even after all, and Marion would help her.

“Well you used the wrong kind. You needed the pink ones. You're a bit out of whack as a result.”

The pink ones were for females, and the blue for males. Eric leaned in, looking over Dirks shoulder.

“Hey! Those are supposed to be confidential, jerk! You want your nose broken again?!”

“Let's see. Ahh, the question of the ages: breast tissue is growing in well. B cup already, looks like. I thought so!”

I hit him. I hit him, and no one stopped me; even through the obvious pain, he smiled down at me and opened his fool mouth again.

“Wonder if they'll stop there? How 'bout it, doc? Did malnutrition get to our cutie here?”

Eric was a pig.

“You know, for you... I'm not sorry. At all.”

He grinned again.

“I know.”

Then Dirk that fool, interrupted, his head still buried in the readout.

“Nope, doesn't look like it, but she should top out soon. Doubt she gets past a B cup personally.”

I hit him too. And his head rebounded nicely off the console. Glad he didn't break that actually, I'd hate to have to fix it. Eric's smirk grew, something I didn't think was possible.

“What about the violence? Could improper nutrition explain that?”

Guido's voice cracked through the room like an arc of lightning.

“Enough. Shut up and stop this garbage. Is she healthy, Dirk?”

Dirk nodded, too cowed to speak, the wimp.

“Alright. You two stay here. Dirk check those a second time, and take your time. But see to Eric first, he's bleeding again. Eric when Dirk is done, go to your quarters and sleep. Nothing else. Understand?”

Eric nodded, sullen.

“Let's go Mouse.”

And he just strode off; I had to hurry to catch up. I probably should just sneak off to annoy him; I had to fight down the urge. Where would I go anyway? The entire crew knew where I was supposed to be, and whose company I was supposed to be in.

Besides, I wanted an actual bed. The cot had been alright, but after that had been a succession of lightly padded floors. That and grape juice, which I dared not ask for. I could also use another shower; hanging out in some of the less used areas in engineering tended to make one a bit grimy, and it had been a few days. The cleaners could only do so much; something to work on perhaps, but well down the issue list.

We arrived and Guido waited for me to key it. I did and it opened. This day was full of surprises; I didn't expect Oddball to reinstate me so quickly. The place was much as I'd left it, the only differences were the vents were welded into their frames. Something I might want to undo... or not. The only food I had left here was powdered. The plants I'd been raising over in engineering, I could go back and get later. Guido would stick to orders.

I did at least have access to water, and some tea bags. Tea was one of the things that my mother had loved, and she had grown and bagged her own. I realized that I hadn't checked those plants in weeks, and they were probably dead.

“Guido, want some tea?”

He thought for a moment; a calculated moment designed just long enough to let me know he felt that I wasn't the only one who had to worry about poison threats. I could see it in his face; and that made me angry. If I had wanted to poison people, I could have and would have well before now. The cheap poisoning crap was more the modus operandi of the rest of the crew, not me. He must have seen something in my face too.

“Sure.”

I started the water, using the old fashioned kettle my mother loved. Hers, but mine now. Most people just waited for the water in our sinks to heat, but mom had always been old fashioned. I had taken after her, after a fashion; I hadn't even thought about making tea any differently. What other little choices did I make like that? Choices that made me different from the rest of the crew, that I did simply because it was how my parents had done things? Silly thought; it didn't matter.

I sat down on my couch, and Guido took my father's chair. My chair now, I guess. Both were old, but looked like new; they had been made with space and generational use in mind. My pad was handy, and with full access restored, I could once again educate myself.

I closed my eyes briefly and picked a book at random; which turned out to be an old text on languages. Not my normal fare, but the rules of random book picks were clear; if you did it, you stuck with what you got as long as you could, and I hadn't even started reading yet. It could be interesting... somehow. Even though we only used one language now, at one time humanity had apparently used thousands.

The kettle shrieked and I made the tea, giving another surreptitious once over to my kitchen. The physical and mental inventory matched, and I really wish I was wrong. Guido sat in silence, watching me. Orders or not, it was unsettling how his gaze never wavered. He had abstained on the vote.

Ten minutes later I was done with my tea and done with the language rules on some ancient desert people's language, which I had to admit seemed silly. Babylonia was an ancient city, as I recall. I went into my room, returning with clean drawstring pants and an oversized shirt.

I had prioritized food and water over clothes when I left in a hurry, which meant that I couldn't grab more than a few changes of anything, and those old clothes had long since become more than grimy (I couldn't do laundry in hiding, or at least not well) or had ceased to fit. Just like I had ceased to fit in some of the more tight spaces the ship had to offer. Stupid traitorous hips. Guido looked at my bundle, so I made it obvious.

“I'm going to shower.”

I checked my shower and all the fittings. I wouldn't put it past certain crew members to try to one up me for revenge; everything checked out. Then I checked my shampoo and soap. Both clear of anything I or my pad could detect. With a shrug I adjusted the water and stepped in. It was pleasant but short; all showers cut off automatically. The few illegal showers I'd had while on the run had been much longer, and longer than they should have been; but now it was back to restraint and the proper spacer mindset.

The draw string pants were very large; they were built to be baggy, like the shirt; which meant they fit. Even so, it was a close thing. The shirt was still very roomy, which meant it didn't irritate anything... sensitive. My old clothes went in the recycler, rather than the laundry. Even if I could manage the impossible and get them clean again, they didn't really fit. I'd need new ones soon.

Guido was gone when I left the bathroom; he wasn't in the kitchen, my room or my parent's room. He hadn't somehow gotten into the bathroom without me noticing. With a shrug I returned to my reading. With my workload finished I didn't need to stress anything.

Guido returned with food. He plunked down a covered platter of stir fry vegetables and held out a fork. I took it, and he pulled the cover off the platter and started eating.

“It's from my own kitchen. Made with beef bullion added. I'm no Marion, but I do alright.”

And he was eating it himself; showing in no uncertain terms that if it was poisoned, he would be feeling it too. A quick taste revealed it was good. Guido did himself a disservice, though I suppose it was hard to screw up stir fry. Maybe if you added too much oil or something. I couldn't resist a little needling though.

“You left. I could have gone on the run again.”

He shook his head, eating a green bean.

“You said you wouldn't. I believe you. Besides, you look tired – and hungry.”

“Saw me looking through the pantry, huh?”

“Yep.”

Before I knew it the platter was empty. Guido collected the forks and put them in the platter and sealed it up. Then it was back to staring at me. Well I knew it wasn't because of the dirt anymore, and the clothes weren't an issue; everyone had at least one set like this. So he was noting differences. I knew there were some, but still, twenty minutes of it was a long time. I wasn't even sure he was aware of what he was doing.

I was now ready for sleep, but I didn't dare try to lock Guido out of my bedroom. I didn't want something to go wrong, and get the blame for it because I wasn't in view the entire time. Having Guido leave on his own to get lunch was bad enough. Besides, my couch was still plenty comfortable. Made of the same foam my bed was, in fact.

I heard my pad drop to the floor, but didn't care; it could survive it. The couch was big enough to stretch out on and I did so.

…....

For the fifth time today, I had to turn down a polite request from a crew mate that they be allowed to see Mouse. This time it was Joe; the first one had been Seth. The second had been Claire. Why they couldn't understand what a complete cluster of a drama that would be, I had no idea. They were on Mouse's excrement list as is, seeing them walk into her quarters to do... whatever they wanted to do, wouldn't help things at all.

“No Joe. Like I told Seth, now is not the time for any of this. Finish your shift.”

My surprise was total when he answered me in a complete sentence.

“Dude, today's shift is over.”

“My other point still stands.”

He clicked off and I looked at my pad. He was right, our shifts were over. I could finally sleep. Half the crew wanted me to punish Mouse for her... indiscretions, and the other half wanted to apologize. It was too much to deal with so soon after catching her; We could deal with it in a meeting, tomorrow. I'd just call the crew together and let them air their grievances at once. Once we were all rested, Mouse included. She had looked like hell. And to be confronted and captured by the two people she hated most; she had displayed amazing restraint, and so had they.

I still had no idea what should be done. This entire situation should be on how to deal with Oddball, not how to punish Mouse. Or make things up to her. The best way to make this entire debacle up to her would be to make sure Oddball couldn't do things like this ever again; that we either had the veto power over the insane AI or it was safely shunted away from critical systems and couldn't enforce it's ramblings. Instead the crew was still focused on itself; on symptoms of the problem, and not the problem.

It was maddening.

The walk to habitat deck did nothing to clear my head, and what I saw there only made it worse. There were no fewer than twenty people standing in front of Mouse's door, talking in either muted whispers or raised voices. I had to get through them to get to my quarters.

“All of you go home and go to sleep. Right now.”

“But Captain, I...”

“Save it. Whatever it is, whatever you all want, save it for tomorrow, when we have clear and rested heads. Clear out. Now.”

I waited until the last of them was in their own quarters, keeping my face as stern as I could. Only when the I was sure they wouldn't come back out, I keyed Mouse's door and went in.

She was on the couch, asleep. There was a large plate of something on the table, empty. Guido was there in the lone family room chair, just watching her sleep. He spoke so quietly I had to work to make it out over the ever present woosh of air. For an engineer, it seemed slightly scandalous to have the most archaic air unit on the entire ship, but it was. But it wasn't broken, and it would be used until it was.

“Hey boss. Had to disarm the door chime; everyone was pressing it and I thought it'd wake her up.”

Wasn't part of my orders, but initiative is good. I should have thought of that myself. I can only blame my own fatigue for not thinking that everyone would want to confront Mouse in some way before now, confined to quarters or not.

“She give you any trouble?”

Guido shifted, rolling his neck to work kinks out. He had been in that position for some time then.

“Nah, not a bit. Even tested her; went to get food. She didn't move, though she could have. I had to tell her the food was my own, and eat it first before she'd touch it.”

That was disquieting, but Guido shirking his duty was even worse.

“You left her alone?”

He shrugged.

“She was hungry; I was hungry. I had an alarm on the door she couldn't easily disable, and had that alarm protocol alarmed itself. She didn't even try.”

Left unspoken was the 'trust has to start somewhere' motto... the one which I had thrown in Mouse's own face months ago. I felt the irony bite with jagged teeth. Then Guido, the guy only slightly more wordy than Joe, offered something that surprised me.

“She looks so small and fragile, lying there. Doesn't she?”

I looked. I had to admit, she did. Much like a human version of those little birds with fragile bones we saw on nature vids. She seemed much smaller than when she was awake somehow, but for Guido to notice that, let alone say it... something was wrong here.

“Yeah she does. Look, you good to stay here? Continue watching?”

Just watching Guido; we don't need any other misunderstandings or issues poisoning the trust waters.

“Yeah. I'll sleep on the floor, nothing I haven't done before.”

“I'll get you some bedding man, wouldn't leave you hanging like that.”

I could understand the floor; he wouldn't want to take her bed, or her parent's bed, and the couch was taken. With a wave I went went out into the still empty hall, and to my own quarters. I snagged my own spares and brought them back.

Guido met me at the door.

“Thanks. Go get some sleep of your own, Captain. You look like shizz.”

I didn't want to go get sleep of my own; I wanted to watch Guido, watching Mouse. I wanted to watch Mouse myself, to make sure she wasn't still plotting something. But instead I went back home. My liquor stash called, but I resisted; I was close enough to a drunk as it was, and I remember those instructional videos well.

I lay in bed and stared at my ceiling. I always had trouble following orders; even if they were my own. Something else for irony to chew on me for.

Another day, and back to the grind. No more being tired, lonely, or safe. Instead I had to resume my duties and regular schedule... under watch, naturally. Today the watch consisted of Oddball and an anklet.

The anklet was thin, so it could be hidden by clothes, or fit under my suit if I needed to EVA. But I knew it was there, and so did everyone else. Any tampering at all by me, and an alarm would sound. Then a sticky radioactive dye would spray, and coat my leg. Then the security bots would reactivate and come to my location, and stun me into submission.

So the first problem with my new life was clothes. Oh, not in the way the crew would think, I'm sure. It seemed that Oddball had been thinking ahead; when I got back to my new quarters, the first thing I noticed were the stacks of brand new blue jeans, shirts, panties, and bras. All of them were, according to the tags, actual denim and cotton. Earth make, somehow, for all that it seemed impossible. I mean, they had to be fifty years old or more, and they looked brand new. The boots (three pair!) fit perfectly, and they gleamed. When I put them on, they were even stiff, something I'd never had to deal with before. Just the thought of wearing this stuff to work on engineering crap made me feel guilty, and if anyone else, especially the girls, saw me in clothes like this? Beyond bad.

And that didn't even cover the cotton pants and various dresses now occupying my closet. What the heck was I ever going to use a dress for anyway? Or shorts? They were so far beyond impractical it was humorous. At least there were a few pair of overalls next to the jeans, even if they were new too. They looked like they'd fit too, even if they were different.

I couldn't wear the stuff I used to. I could probably still make it work, even if it didn't fit well... but my old clothes were all missing. Recycled. Oh well, if needed I could just redirect the mob that would be angry at the rationing Oddball's way.

The underwear was like being wrapped in a very thin layer of foam. The jeans were tight, and didn't offer full mobility. It was weird, they didn't fit like what I was used to at all, but they were comfortable. The shirt was also tight, but stretchy. It didn't scratch at all. The overalls fit over all that, but was still a closer fit than I was comfortable with; they just didn't offer the room I was used to.

And there was some kind of design on the front pocket; embroidered in pink thread, of all things. I wasn't sure what it was supposed to be, some sort of animal. A biologist, I was not. Somehow it all fit perfectly which meant the rest of this stuff would too. Walking into my kitchen revealed fresh tea, still steaming, and with actual sugar in it; the proper amount according to my taste. The tea was sitting next to a dish I vaguely remembered, called french toast.

The last time I'd had french toast had been as a kid barely high enough to sit in a chair, mainly because the stuff we used to make it, some sort of animal egg substitute; I didn't even remember what the recipe for it was. I'm sure it was on the network somewhere; maybe Marion had it. But regardless, somehow the same faerie or gnome or whatever fantasy creature delivered the clothes also delivered breakfast.

Oddball had been sandbagging much more than clothes, it seemed. How did he even cook breakfast for anyone? He wasn't supposed to have access at all; I certainly didn't give him permission. How had he even done it? It wasn't like the security bots could cook with their hands.

The answer came when Guido strolled right in like he owned the place. Of course. I am a major idiot.

“Good, you're awake. Running late, you should eat quickly.”

I held up the plate.

“Where did you find the stuff for this? I thought we were out.”

“Marion found it in the kitchen when she woke up this morning. Oddball said it was for you, for and I quote: 'proper nutrition.' There was an entire case of it, all earmarked for you.”

That had to be bull. French toast wasn't nutritious. And Oddball couldn't earmark food like that, could he? What was his game? Guido held up his hands.

“Hey, eat it or not. I checked it, it's not poisonous or anything. I don't know any more than that. But breakfast or not, you need to hurry.”

He wasn't really right on that score, I had plenty of time. But I could see that he was anxious; fidgeting. He wanted to be moving, in any direction, and I didn't blame him there. I ate as quickly as manners allowed and downed my tea.

The schedule for today was routine computer maintenance of the back up life support systems, something that I didn't expect I'd be allowed to work on, especially without expert supervision. But with all the searching done for me, most of the crew had been forced to keep odd hours and needed sleep now. It was kind of odd thinking that I was probably the best rested of the crew, but it was probably true.

I walked right by the cafeteria; there was nothing I wanted there. I wasn't exactly banned from the place, but our loving Captain had decided that it was best that I not spend too much time in public areas. Which sounded really stupid since I had an hour scheduled for physical activity later today. The same hour as everyone else, and Oddball wasn't taking no for an answer. When captain Traitor had asked him to reschedule, he'd just been pointed to the charter which demanded a certain amount of time 'fraternizing' among the crew. Then he'd been ignored as Roger tried to plead extenuating circumstances. So I was going to gym today.

But for now it was tedium. I arrived a little early, and didn't see a minder. Not even the electrical kind; it was if, once Guido had peeled off to the cafeteria, I was alone. It was an illusion of course; someone had to be watching, somewhere. Either way, it didn't matter; I was reformed, after all.

The back ups were a bank of twelve slaved computers, the size of a small locker. They contained the systems for oxygen recycling, air flow, temperature, and pressure. The water and waste recovery were handled elsewhere, and their backups were also further down the hall in another room. I took them offline one at a time and ran their diagnostics. With only one down, the other eleven could handle it if main life support suddenly took a dive; and if not, there was another twelve computers down the hall designed to kick in. The back up for the back up. The entire ship was engineered to take no chances.

It turned out that there were two chips, one controlling vent air flow, and the other dealing with temperature control, that were both perhaps faulty. I replaced them, and some frayed wiring in machine number 3. I didn't take chances.

How had that wiring gotten frayed, anyway? It couldn't be that old.

A little jiggling revealed the problem; there was an edge, and every time the coolant fan was forced to kick on, it moved the wire into the edge. Not enough to worry about... unless it happened over around 10 years, a few times a day or so. I ended up splicing a longer wire and taping it up.

Should solve the problem until I retire. Felt good to be doing proper engineering again, no matter how time consuming or tedious. Lunch time rolled around with the job only half done. I know because the chime on my pad went off; it seemed as if I was supposed to take lunch off. I didn't want to, but I really didn't want to end up fighting over it. If I'd woken up earlier, I could have just packed a lunch.

Oh well, time to just be a zoo animal.

I strode through the halls with purpose. I didn't need to bother; the halls were empty. The cafeteria however, wasn't. It was more full than I'd seen in... well, ever. There was almost the entire shift waiting for me, and as expected, they all stared the moment I walked in. I almost froze, but managed to keep going. My voice was even steady.

“Hello Marion. Can I get today's special please?”

Marion's smile was warm and inviting. She didn't seem to be mad at me for the past at all.

“Sure thing, coming right up.”

I sat down at a table alone. A small one nestled next to the counter, and not my normal seat. While many stared, none approached.

The special was, of course, a salad with a piece of bread that Marion made. This salad seemed to be a bit different, however. It had something other than the botanist made dressing on it. To cap things off, Marion set down a glass of purple liquid next to it; a glass which wasn't grape juice colored, but looked familiar. A sip proved it was pomegranate. Actual powdered pomegranate, mixed with water. It was another favorite of mine, and another thing we were supposed to be out of. I looked up into Marion's smiling face.

“Oddball sent it. It's all yours. It has additives, but I had it checked out; nothing harmful.”

She sat down with her own drink, tea while I processed that. So she was under orders, or at least strong suggestions, on what to feed me? I looked up to find her eying my clothes; she dragged a finger gently across my new shirt.

“And what about this stuff on the salad?”

I'd never seen it before.

“Actual ranch dressing. Nothing wrong with it at all, other than starting life as a powder.”

We didn't discriminate against powders here.

“You got a list of the ingredients?”

She slid her pad over with a knowing smirk. She knew she didn't have anything to worry about. I took a glance; all medical jargon. As smart as I was, my weakness was medical knowledge, but while some of the list looked familiar, none of it was blatantly poisonous. I pulled out my own pad and copied it; I'd cross check it later. Now on to the other concern. I picked at my salad while watching my fellow loving crew. Some of them took their food very seriously; this sort of behavior smacked of favoritism. If anyone else noticed the clothes it would all but seal the deal, so to speak.

Knowing my recent luck, they all had.

The conversations had been replaced by whispering. Marion sat there in silence, for which I was grateful; it allowed me to hear at least a few of the other people whispering about me. Mostly due to the sheer gall I had, daring to show my face after what I did. It was only after Marion's hand closed over mine that I realized I'd somehow bent my fork. I did my best to straighten it out while glaring at Hitomi; I knew the others were thinking it, but I'd HEARD her.

My pad chimed; I'd received a message from Marion.

So, new clothes too? Oddball must be trying to apologize.

Yes, thank you Marion. I really wanted to be reminded of that right now. I guess it showed, because my pad chimed again.

Sorry.

I shook my head and whispered back; I didn't trust the pads anymore, not entirely.

“Not your fault. Might as well get used to it, this would have happened eventually.”

She took the hint.

“That doesn't make it any better. Tell you what, you finish up, I'll glare them off.”

And she did. Marion wasn't exactly intimidating, not like Claire could be, but she sat there next to me and glared for all she was worth. It was comical, and I had to stifle laughter more than once; it didn't help when I caught her trying hard not to smile herself. A thought occurred to me.

“So, what other things did Oddball drop off here?”

I had the sneaking suspicion the juice wasn't the last of it. The dressing, while good, (maybe even better than the stuff the botanists made) was something I'd never had before. That probably meant it was popular with the earlier crews.

It could have just been my imagination, but I actually did feel more energetic as I walked back to engineering. I actually hoped it was my imagination, I didn't like the alternative.

The other redundancies were in similar shape to the first, but I managed to get them done, not just in the same day, but a good hour before my shift was due to end. Plenty of time to check on the sleepers. I met more people in the corridors this time, though they stayed just as silent as before; fine by me. I half expected to meet someone assigned to watch me and make sure I wasn't trying any active of sabotage. It would have been a terrible insult, but I wouldn't have been surprised.

Instead I was alone as I made my rounds; it felt colder in here than it should. It took me some time to figure out that it wasn't just because I had less insulation. There was a hairline fracture in coolant tank three. Now coolant tank three wasn't anything dangerous; it was a coolant tank that fed the liquid coolant into one of the main computers in the room; they generated a lot of heat. Left unchecked it could be quite the problem, but a glance at the screen showed the computer was only up 5.1 degrees. I could probably just spot weld a patch on it, but that seemed too slipshod.

Instead I used some nanite patch to hold it for next shift, then topped off the tank. Then I mopped up so no one fell and busted their rear on the deck plating. The joys of being an engineer. At least I was using something absorbent; those mops in the old movies we watched always seemed inefficient.

I should probably just replace the thing, but if I did something like that, this soon, questions would likely be asked and my work torn apart to no purpose. I was already half sure my loving crew would be checking the redundancies, no need to stick my neck out spending time repairing something that would automatically send red flags.

So I just logged it instead and started removing the vent covers the crew installed. They would need to come down anyway, before dust or other particulates built up and air quality was affected. I would likely be dealing with most of that alone... part of my punishment for not rolling over, though no one would put it that way or even mention it directly. Suited me just fine anyway, it was tedious busywork that meant my loving crew would leave me alone.

They had been very careful closing off the vents; very precise manufacturing sturdy things like bars and even full plates. Even with less time spent taking things down than putting things up, I could only remove three in an hour. They really hadn't wanted me able to open them from the other side.

Of course, now that I knew what to look for from this side, I was reasonably sure I could do it without burning my face off or something similar.

My alarm chimed again. I was now off shift, and it was exercise time. I wasn't looking forward to it; either I would get treated as a pariah or with kid gloves, and I wasn't sure which one would be worse. I had made this particular bed though, at least in part, and I would have to lie in it. Another saying from mom regarding personal responsibility.

The boots were still stiff, clumping more loudly than I wanted on the deck plating. At least I hadn't scuffed them; the traces of coolant on the bottom wouldn't be caustic either. I could just see the crew's outrage at getting new boots and then ruining them the first day they were worn... almost made me want to do it. But no, the only one I'd be hurting in the end would be myself; I doubted my feet would grow anymore, they had always been as tiny as the rest of me, which meant if I maintained all this new stuff properly it could last for decades. There were no organisms aboard the Magellan to speed up decay; not loose, anyway. Only use really mattered.

The gym was full by now, of course. I had one of the longer routes getting here, which meant the place was nearly at its full day shift capacity. All conversation stopped and nineteen people stared as I slipped in. I kept my eye on them, or as many as I could.

I sidled along the wall the shower rooms were set in. I reached the door to the male one first, and it buzzed at me. Yes, I know door, thank you for pointing out I now lack the one thing required for entry into this exclusive club. At least, until I disable Oddball and rewire you.

The other door, the one further down, gave a gentle ping that I almost didn't hear over the ambient noise and opened immediately. Did it always make a sound like that? I don't think I'd ever heard it before, and the other door just slid open. The short hallway had one more twist in it than the other room too; three to the other room's two. According to all the schematics I'd ever checked, that was the only difference in the two places; but the schematics were wrong.

There was the same bank of lockers on the nearby wall, the same sinks and taps and cabinets inset where supplies were stored. There the similarity ended. Most of the shower stalls were actual stalls, with a divider that was probably made of coated plastic. The dividers were a soft kind of green, and matched what had to be actual tile of some kind on the floor. Over the sinks were the same polished metal mirrors the guys had, but inset in the wall next to them were several full body versions, about six feet tall.

There were toilets of course, inset in the back wall, but no urinals and the stalls for everything were actually colored too; the toilets themselves were a darker green than the stall walls and looked to be actual porcelain rather than steel. There was a machine inset in the corner that I didn't recognize but knew by reputation; mom was always complaining about how it was out and only offered inferior 'products' now. She had called them products, but what they really were was a form of diaper or something woven of leftover reeds from some of our plants. I think I'd rather just stain my clothes, personally.

The placement of the drain and fans I'd seen so far pointed to more of both needed to cover the room, and didn't match the blueprints of the Magellan on file; something that probably should have surprised me, but didn't. Of course it wasn't empty, that would have been too easy. And of course, it was my three least favorite people occupying it, in the middle of washing themselves. They all stopped when I came in for the beat of a heart before Lissa spoke up.

Once again, it was a day of minor surprises.

“Sheesh Mouse, don't just stand there, someone will run into you.”

And she just turned away; alright, fine, I could do this. I couldn't see anything but their feet anyway, and they couldn't see me. The only reason I knew who it was were the clothes carefully folded and placed on a bench.

I quickly peeled off my things and folded them up like they had and picked a stall. I noticed immediately the soap on this side of things was different. It was a body wash, same as the guys used, but it smelled different and had a different feel when rubbed on skin. Less grainy and more soft. It really didn't feel like it would get grease or oil off of anything; I would have to bring my own tomorrow. I was stupid for forgetting.

At least the water was the same. I lathered up and rinsed off in a hurry; I heard others come in and start up. Not a word was said to me of course, but other than greetings there didn't seem to be much talking going on in general. I waited until things were quiet, far linger than I normally would. I wasn't hiding, exactly, just trying to avoid conflict.

When I stepped out (because opening the door first and peeking out would look stupid) they were waiting for me.

The expected trio of Lissa, Carla, and Milla, who I had really expected to have moved on to mooning over Roger like love-struck idiots by now, Marion, Hitomi, Tamie, and Opal. They all took one look at me standing there completely naked and collectively shook their heads. I thought I caught the words “it's not fair” whispered from one direction, but I couldn't tell who said it or even if I'd heard it right.

Marion snagged my arm gently.

“Come on, time to learn some things.”

Lissa snorted.

“Won't help; anything you try will be wasted effort on that savage.”

“It doesn't matter Lissa, it's my time to waste.”

Marion wasn't pulling me anywhere just yet. I'd probably have to listen to her, whatever she was planning, but I wasn't about to do it nude.

“Clothes first.”

She nodded and let me go, moving nonchalantly to where I'd have to pass her if I tried to leave. Lissa and her cronies stayed put and kept watching, silently. It was creepy. The frown that swept across her face when I put on my bra was rather odd… what was that all about? I reached for my pants and Lissa spoke again; loudly. My traitorous body jumped.

“You can't wear those out there. We all wear exercise clothes when we exercise, and you should too.”

Well I was all for not ripping the jeans and shirt up, but there was one problem with all that.

“Don't have anything else to wear.”

And it was true. My best lounging and exercise clothes had disappeared with everything else, while I had been giving nightmares to my loving crew, and if my exercise clothes still existed they were in a locker on the other side of the shower stall wall. Carla spoke up, far too softly and not meeting me in eye.

“Look over there. A security drone was in here earlier, and assigned you a locker.”

I hopped into my underwear and stomped over. Yep, it was there, a name plate in silver lettering which didn't match any of the gray lettering on either side. Mouse Zamir. Not my real name, of course, but since it was what everyone called me that didn't really matter. Like all the others in the bank of lockers, it was basically a small thing the size of a suitcase, colored yet another different shade of green. Like all lockers in here, it had no locks, putting the lie to the name. People wouldn't mess with other people's belongings in the lockers anyway.

I hadn't even when on the run. There were some things you just didn't do.

A quick twist and the locker sprang open soundlessly; the hinges were perfectly maintained. And there, inside, folded neatly and encased in plastic, were more clothes. Brand new, non-faded clothes, like the ones in my quarters. Where was he hiding this stuff? This was insane, I hadn't seen anything like this in the commissary. They even had actual sizes listed on tags, same as the rest.

Turning around I saw jealous fires lit in the eyes of those surrounding me.

I pulled the items out of the crinkly plastic and shook them out. They were my size, which meant that they wouldn't fit anyone else here, though the shirt was loose in the chest; I think Oddball is trying to tell me something. The pants fit perfectly, no stretch needed, though they could. It was a matched set of real cotton; it had to be. The shade was… maroon? Some sort of dark red.

Marion snagged my arm again and toweled my head off a second time; apparently she was digging for gold or something, judging by the pressure applied.

“Ow, Marion, stop!”

“No way, you have to get your hair dry.”

“I was dry five minutes ago! Enough already!”

“Okay, okay, fine, stand right there. I'm going to teach you how to brush your hair.”

What? When the towel was removed I was in front of the full-length mirror. I should stop this now; I reached for the brush and got my hand slapped away.

“I already know how to brush my hair.”

“No, you know how to do it the guy way. I'm going to teach you how to do it the right way.”

She then ran her own brush, a modern thing I'd never seen before through my hair more times than I thought was strictly necessary. She was using a sonic one after all, it shouldn't need more than three passes to get all particulates out, ever. I lost count after pass twenty.

Finally, she let me go and stepped back with a sigh.

“There, all done. How does it look?”

It had done something. My hair seemed to glow in the light; did her brush do something weird to hair? Maybe it was the body wash used? Everyone else still here (and why were they still here, what was so interesting about this sort of thing, exactly?) gave appreciative nods I could see in the mirror.

“Looks very good.” - Lissa.

“That shade is darker than her old shade, isn't it?” - Milla.

“I don't think so, looks the same, just more lustrous. Hiding out and eating pills seemed to agree with her. Maybe if I try it I can finally lose that pesky five pounds!” - Carla.

This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.

“You guys do know how vapid you sound right now, right?”

Carla fired right back, unperturbed.

“Gals. We're all gals here, Mouse.”

“Fine, you're all vapid sounding gals.”

Lissa grinned. She was plotting something, I just knew it. That or she was insane; she had been frowning not seconds before. Maybe she was a sociopath, or something similar? Her mood certainly seemed to change enough. Marion was a bit more understandable, if only because she felt the desire to share.

“We never quite outgrow the desire to play dress up Mouse, and you're fertile ground there. You actually need the help, though the clothes thing is a little off-putting.”

Just what I needed to hear. So of course Carla had to add to it; I was beginning to have some dark thoughts about her. She might actually be more vapid and self-absorbed than Lissa, and I didn't understand how that was possible.

Maybe living on a ship with a small population was having more of an effect on the remnants of humanity than I suspected. I should probably ask Jennifer. But then again, I was more than a little afraid of what I'd learn if I did. I knew now there were different levels of survival. I also knew that Oddball could take his pick between them if he wanted; the only brakes put on him were happiness, which was something he seemed capable of ignoring somehow. After all, I sure wasn't happy right now.

“Alright come on. Today is tennis day for us, and I want to play against the ace of the ship.”

Tennis was a sport I was pretty good at. Better than most at least, mainly because it didn't rely as much on size or strength. Just quick reflexes, and I'd always had those in spades. Lissa oddly enough was my counterpart there; she was really good at tennis. We didn't often play each other, though; the boys didn't usually play with the girls.

Just another way for her to rub my current situation in.

The sport on the other side was football, and Siegfried was taking my normal spot at quarterback. He had since my indisposition, and done a credible job though my team hadn't won a single game since they betrayed me. Poetic justice, of a sort.

The rackets were out of their locker, and everyone began by picking one from the rack as we went by. Though some thought it did, it didn't matter which one you picked; they were literally all the same unless they were broken. A few of them were but still stored with the rest because it was too much of a pain to move them into the storage room called 'the land of broken toys' after some weird old story or another. There were only 29 left out of fifty, and even though we could manufacture more no one wanted to be the one to break another old Earth artifact, so we were very careful with them.

The tennis balls were of different vintage. They were a mix of rubber and plastic, made to simulate real tennis balls as closely as possible by the engineers of generation 2. They swore forever after that they had nailed the characteristics exactly, but doubts had been raised, and rightfully so in my opinion.

But since they were the best we had, and neither I nor Cargie had an old ball to test so the best we could do is a slightly different clone of the ball we had and a lot of field testing. Still, I had time, if I wanted to spend my free time that way; years and years worth of time could be dedicated to finding the perfect tennis ball.

That sounded pretty stupid, actually. Wonder how the second generation crew avoided laughter over such activities?

The nets themselves were stretched from posts that came up from the floor and were already set up. I wonder who had done that? The paint that symbolized the chalk was also set, but that was usually done by robot in order to ensure accuracy.

I looked up after going to the farthest court, and saw Lissa across from me, ball in hand, grin on her face, just waiting for me to notice. Carla and Milla had their own match right beside us though they weren't actually playing, and a table over Marion and Claire were staring at us. I couldn't bring myself to care who else was where, since the other side of the gym was just as silent.

Well, not entirely silent. A glance showed they were all looking at me and whispering things I couldn't hear. Having been on the other side of that situation, I couldn't help but get creeped out. Especially when I thought I heard the word “skirts” before Eric was properly shushed. I turned back to where Lissa was preening.

My traitorous eyes had to admit that she looked good; her own clothes had been dyed and altered by her to fit her taste, a white stretchy shirt and a pair of gray pants that coated her like paint before flaring out at the ankles. They were older than my own, far older, but well cared for.

I hunched in and gripped the racquet like I'd been shown by my mom all those years ago, and gave Lissa the nod. She started things off with a nice dirty serve designed to make me reach, and the match was on.

……..

It was like watching poetry. That was the only thing I could come up with. The both of them straining, working to overcome the other, to overcome their own limits. It was like watching ballet or an interpretive dance, with both of them relying on each other for their choreography. For all his lack of education, Eric summed it up best.

“This is hotter than booster fuel.”

And like Eric, I desperately wanted to see the same scene with those little skirts female tennis players used to wear. Oddball actually had to chime at us, to get us moving again and back to our game; there wasn't a single guy not watching. Even some of the girls were, jealousy plain on their faces as they watched the two streak across the court almost faster than the eye could follow. At least Mouse and Lissa never noticed; once the match started they only had focus for each other; Mouse hadn't even heard the chime, as far as I could tell.

We managed to make it look like we were playing, but we weren't really giving it our all. My side won and we wound things up a good ten minutes early and took seats. I suspected the other team had thrown harder than usual for just this outcome, but there was no way I could prove it. The outcome of the match, however, was never in any doubt.

……

The outcome was never in any doubt of course; I made Lissa work for it, but she beat me two sets to one. Even worse, I couldn't stand after she scored the final point; my stamina had taken a huge hit between the surgery and lack of exercise. Lissa had to cross the net rather than meet me in the middle as was customary. The best I could do was gasp out the words, but I managed.

“Good match.”

She reached down and pulled me up.

“Good match. I can tell, when you get used to how things work now, you're going to beat me like a drum.”

She meant when I got used to how my body worked now, something she knew I didn't want to do. She wasn't even breathing hard as she said it. I fought down the ugliness that boiled up; if she noticed she didn't comment.

“Maybe. You were always good at this, so I doubt I'll ever have it easy.”

I had a stupid wobble to my step; Lissa steadied me with an arm as we walked to the nearest bench. She also shot some kind of look that I couldn't read at Claire, who sported a bored look in the face of it. Marion came over without a backward glance at her, acting her usual bubbly self.

“That was amazing! Just like those old vids of the pros going at it! You alright Mouse? You look a little out of it.”

“Overdid things a bit.”

She nodded and slapped a water bottle into my hand.

“Makes sense. Just take a breather, it won't kill you to hang out with us after exercise period is over. You know, instead of running out first thing like you do normally.”

I shrugged to hide my wince as I shifted. My legs felt like lead weights. I was the most stupid genius humanity had to offer; my mom would be thrilled to know.

“You know, things to do, games to play. But yeah, think I'll wait a bit. So you all hang out here, doing what? Talking?”

My desire to wait had nothing at all to do with the number of females currently in the showers. Absolutely none at all. Carla chimed in.

“Well, sometimes. I mean the cafeteria is better most of the time, but usually people leave the gym alone for a time after exercising, so it makes a good place to be sort of private. That and you aren't the only one who overdoes things from time to time.”

Her rueful smile looked genuine. It was matched by Lissa's own.

“She's not even the only one today. I know you griped about my fitness before Mouse, but there was no need to run me into the ground today.”

“But I didn't…!”

“She's right. She did no such thing; you just wanted to beat her too badly, Lissa.”

“Guilty as charged Marion, but can you really blame me?”

I watched as Claire, now dressed in her normal clothes again, walked out of the gym without a single word. Whatever.

“No, I don't blame you. In fact I'm going to beat you next time; just as soon as I recover.”

Marion pulled me to my feet.

“Come on, shower time. You need to hurry before the stink sets in.”

I'm pretty sure stink doesn't work like that.

“Pretty sure stinks don't work like that Marion.”

“Not you, silly! Your clothes; you don't want to let them sit around, or you'll be fragrant tomorrow.”

Yeah, stinks didn't work like that for clothes either; all indications pointed to sonic cleaning working best when cloth was dry… and my new sweats were absolutely not dry.

“Don't worry, time to show you more secrets.”

“I really don't want to know anymore secrets.”

Lissa put an arm around me; I almost fell before she switched to holding me up.

“Don't be like that Mouse, you're one of us now. You get to know all the things you never wanted to know, and experience them all first hand. I insist. Besides, proper care of clothes like yours? If you don't take all necessary steps, well, no female on this ship will be happy with you.”

She grinned widely into my face; she knew without any doubt how frightening a prospect having half the population angry at me was… especially since it was over next to nothing and I already had most of the population of the ship wanting me punished anyway.

“Alright, alright, show me your massive secret unknown to mankind.”

I could do puns. Judging by the smiles, I could do good puns.

Once dragged back into the locker room I was sat down on my old friend Mr. bench, where I wearily stripped. This time, they wouldn't even let me keep the underwear, citing general yuckiness; whatever that was. There were replacements, of course, placed carefully in my locker; I had missed them in the rush before… or at least I hoped I had.

Another set of brand new underwear; they even matched.

I wanted to throw them as far as I could, but that wouldn't go over well. I put them on with a sigh… a sigh that was matched by the others present in the room. Theirs were of longing however, while mine was simple put-upon aggravation. Half the people on the ship would gleefully kill someone for underwear like these. Maybe even more than half, if certain rumors were true.

At least they were comfortable.

“Alright, so the real benefit of having actual water showers over just the sonic ones… you can treat your clothes.”

Marion pulled out a bottle of something. Lissa, Carla, and Milla followed suit. They were all small and unmarked, kept in the lockers, and had a liquid inside with a faint watery blue color. Marion popped the top on hers and waved it under my nose… it was pleasant and vaguely spicy; it smelled like flowers. It smelled, in fact, like the perfume all the girls wore. It was in fact, the answer to one of the many mini-mysteries of the ship, and one that no female to date had given up… at least not to any of us in the third generation. I had asked my dad once how and why all the girls smelled the same as mom and he had told me they just did, so I didn't lay odds on him knowing either.

“Wait, so the perfume you all use, the one that drives guys wild, is actually some sort of detergent or chemical treatment for your clothes?”

“Yep! Keeps our whites whiter and brights brighter! Also keeps the threads from fraying as easily and cuts down on general wear. Pretty handy when you're wearing plant or animal fibers, as opposed to good old fashioned chemistry. Darn rules.”

The rules she was speaking of were the rather stringent laws regarding wearing certain types of clothes, which basically boiled down to no latex or rubber derivatives. I wasn't as clear on that part of human history as I probably should be considering how many headaches making clothes directly from modern chemistry would save us, but I do remember that something called a 'catsuit' was involved. Maybe I should look it up later; though I was sure the girls all knew, I did not want to ask. Or be seen caring about it for that matter, so I just nodded along.

“So here is how it works. You step into the shower, then while you clean yourself you work this stuff into your clothes. It's not really fully biological, its a polymer that bonds to your clothes, and bonds to the dirt and sweat and other stuff in your clothes. Then afterwords you run it through the sonic process like normal.”

It figured that Lissa would know about biologicals to be used on clothes… even fake ones.

“Anyway, we forgot to make a bottle for you, but you can use mine after I'm done and then analyze a sample to make your own with. You just can't let the guys know; it's our secret.”

The translation to that was: 'we know you have trust issues so we're going to show you that it isn't poison in the time honored tradition of using it first, then supply you with the means to make your own so you won't have to worry about such a thing in the future.' Thank you, Marion, you lovable mind reader.

She disrobed and went into her chosen stall, using the bottle on her exercise clothes with the door open, in plain sight, before handing it to me. She worked the contents into her clothes under the water, then draped them over the door while soaping up herself. Then she rinsed her clothes off and while rinsing herself. The others watched me watching her for a bit, then followed suit, though they closed the stall doors. Marion had no shame… and nothing to be ashamed about.

Too bad I couldn't take advantage. Too bad she was driving that point home without even trying.

Or maybe she was trying.

No, I could think that of Claire, but not Marion. Marion was just herself; oblivious. I walked into my own stall more to stop comparing my body to theirs more than anything else and applied the contents of the bottle to my new clothes. If they were nanites like I had used, and Marion was setting me up, well, then I'd be set up. I had ways to both detect and counteract that, and I wouldn't be wearing the clothes again until tomorrow anyway; plenty of time to check up on them. Even the trick I pulled was skirting the edge – we could synthesize thread but getting the colors to match was sometimes difficult.

Clothes successfully treated and myself cleaned I stepped out; the four that went into the showers with me were still here, waiting for me.

“Alright, next step. You simply take the hangar in your locker, and hang them up.”

Lissa interrupted.

“Or you can just use one of the blow dryers to dry them; a few good waves at medium or high heat should do it without damaging anything.”

“But it fades the colors!”

Then they began a lively… debate. Yeah, a debate, over air drying versus 'assisted drying'. I just got dressed while they weren't paying attention to me; it took me about half the time it took them, at least until I got to my stupid hair, which was wet again. A few quick strokes and I was ready to leave – at least until I glanced Marion's way and saw her watching me out of the corner of her eye, while still arguing with Lissa.

So I settled in for more strokes, fool that I am. In the end I settled for the air dry method as well; I had the means to prevent the mess and waste Lissa was worried about from happening after all – the plastic covers the clothes came in.

I simply used some tape to fix the plastic to the bottom of the clothes, so it would collect all the moisture. Sure, the moisture would probably all get collected by the environmental systems eventually anyway as the air got filtered, but why wait when you didn't have to?

The girls were less than pleased with my ingenuity of course, standing before my locker critically.

Milla summed it up, even while Lissa was looking pleased:

“Well it'll work and avoid the mess unless gravity cuts out, but it lacks elegance.”

I couldn't let that stand.

“For one, gravity won't cut out, I'm maintaining it. And the simple solutions have an elegant beauty unaffected by appearance.”

I wasn't going to be the engineer known for letting critical systems break, ever. I was going to regret my next question, but I had to ask.

“So, what's the next step? Just waiting for it to dry?”

“Yep. After it dries you simply clean it sonically like normal, using the shower. The treatment will bond with the sweat and dirt while drying and then take it all with it when the sound shakes it off. You can take the clothes to your quarters too, and do it there if you want.”

This was all too much work, and I told them so. Lissa wasted no time disagreeing with me.

“It isn't really. Those new clothes you have will likely need to last you your entire life; an entire life of hard use. Unlike the guys, we really can't replace clothes that fit us so well so easily. Some of my stuff had to be altered to fit me, and the stuff that fits perfectly? That's priceless. Guys can and will just wear any old thing they are given, but you? You're small, hard to fit with our stores, and have sensitive skin. Trust me, the alternative isn't one you want to consider; the clothes we can make? Those chafe something fierce.”

How did she know I had sensitive skin?

“Alright, enough of all that. Time to get out of here and hit the canteen for some drinks before we all fall over from dehydration or something.”

We could just drink water from the sink, it was the same as the water from the tap in the canteen, but then again knowing Lissa probably not.

I had mostly recovered by the time we finally set off, now fully clothed once again and for my part now knowing far more about why Lissa and her crew were late than I ever wanted. Marion sticking by me to make sure shenanigans didn't happen was also appreciated. It was the only reason I could think of for her to stick around; she didn't hate Lissa and company, but she didn't really make too much effort to hang around them.

I wonder what other surprises like this were in store. Well that, and if I could get more of that juice drink stuff; that stuff was still amazing.

Another day, another round of vacuum packed Earth relic food. Another morning of Guido just walking right in and setting it down then waiting for me to get up. He read a book while I showered, dressed, and ate, never appearing to look up. But as soon as I was ready he closed the book; we entered the hall side by side.

There were a few hesitant waves today, a few muttered greetings as I passed; I responded with the best humor I could, which seemed to satisfy them. Everything was back to normal, and nothing was wrong…

Except it wasn't, and it was.

Guido left me at the entrance to engineering, and I checked the work orders. It seemed last night Brun had repaired the leaky tank I'd noticed. I'd have to check that later; for now my job was… engineering console maintenance? That was more busy work; unless a problem had been reported. Those consoles were so solid state they would probably outlive us all.

If crap went very wrong, then those consoles would be a rather unusual testament to humanity's engineering prowess for aliens to decipher, assuming aliens existed somewhere and could find them. There wasn't anything wrong with the consoles; the diagnostics checked out, and the tests I could run proved it beyond any doubt. I had them all finished by the time lunch rolled around; what that really meant was that I had no excuse to squirrel myself away somewhere private for lunch, much as I wanted to.

My customary corner table in the cafeteria was occupied; captain traitor was in it, with Marion. Claire was one table away, and they were talking.

I chose another corner as Marion got up and hustled over. She stopped at the counter and picked up a plate and a glass of juice. On the plate was… something I hadn't seen before. A piece of something that looked like our pressed vegetable patties, and some yellow-orange squiggly things, served wet. The plate was packed with it; I wasn't sure I could eat all of it.

“What the heck is this stuff, Marion? It looks weird.”

She set it down in carefully in front of me.

“Well, we were kinda hoping you could tell us. I had to run a search, and the results were confusing. This is part of the package that showed up yesterday, complete with cooking instructions. This,' she pointed at the patty 'is some kind of meat, and other stuff is called macaroni and cheese. How it lasted this long, I don't know… but you get to tell us how it tastes. So go ahead, test subject.”

She sat and waited, staring intently. I thought I saw a hint of drool; though that wouldn't be surprising… the food we normally ate was pretty bland. We did the best with what we had. I took a bit of the orange stuff first; I doubted it was poisonous since it was from the ship's stores.

It was weird; it had a rich creamy taste that I wasn't sure I liked… but I was pretty sure I didn't hate. I gestured as I cut the meat with my fork; Marion snagged a piece, and her face brightened as she chewed.

“Wow, those Earthers sure knew how to eat!”

The meat was… it made my mouth water, even as it dried up, and that tang… was that salt? If all meat was like this, I could see why my ancestors loved slaughtering animals.

“You have got to try this, Marion. It has salt in it.”

“Salt, really?”

She cut a piece and tried it.

“Oh. Wow; just wow.”

She hadn't volunteered, but I had to ask. After all, maybe we could do some gene mods and grow some of this if we tried hard enough.

“So, what animal is it?”

She was still chewing; I had to poke her before she came back to reality.

“Oh, um… the label said it was 'spam.' the search in the database didn't turn up any animal matching that description. Roger thinks it was probably extinct or something by the time the Magellan left.”

Well, it was true that more than a few animals had gone extinct before humans left Earth, but that still didn't explain why this spam animal didn't come up in a search. After all, that Tasmanian devil thing had shown up when we wanted to know what the animated kids show was about. No need to worry about it now, I supposed.

“How much of this stuff did you get?”

“A tub of the macaroni, with a smaller tub of the powdered sauce. It kind of took me by surprise how much a cup of each makes, so I'll make a little less next time. That said, about 20 servings? And the Spam, ten vacuum sealed bags of about five slices like that one, so 50 servings. The directions, however, said to space them out, or they could be unhealthy.”

Of course, moderation in all things. I had a suspicion.

“So what's for dinner then?”

“Uh uh. I'm not going to ruin Oddball's surprise. Let's just say it's probably not going to be a let-down after this lunch, and leave it at that. I have to admit Mouse, I am all kinds of jealous.”

Sure you are. You too can get a creepy AI to obsess over you and mutilate you for no good reason at all, Marion. It's easy.

“So what's on tap for the mighty engineer today?”

I shrugged.

“Don't know. I'm ahead of the game so far, so probably more vent repair.”

“Ah, the glamorous life so far. Well, you won't have to worry about mine, I did all my vents yesterday.”

I looked at her.

“Hey, don't give me that look. I was bored, alright? Not much to do around here once the cooking is started… or done. Not like it hurts anything to do it myself, as long as I'm careful.”

“Well, I'm fine with it. Just leaves about a thousand to go.”

Marion shook her head.

“A few less. Some of the others might be willing to do the same in between shifts. What can we say? Space is boring.”

Space wasn't that boring, and the vents were supposed to be part of my punishment. So other people chipping in meant what, exactly? A peace offering? They had someplace other than my back to 'bury the hatchet'? I had to admit the last thought seemed nice.

Captain traitor was staring at me.

I finished lunch with Marion glued to my table. She was talking about movies and hobbies and strange historical trivia.

“So, Mouse, want to come over and watch movies? I'm kind of interested in what your new favorites are; last time we did anything like that we were still watching Disney.”

I remembered that day. I had argued on how unlike reality those Disney movies were. Marion had been part of team “Disney was how it was”, and we had shouted each other down for a good hour while Claire kept things from getting violent; our parents had to break it up. Those were good times.

After that I started watching more action oriented movies, and I knew from my various delvings into network usage that Marion had started watching more fluff, but we three hadn't gotten together to watch a movie like that in our quarters since, unless it was a pick for the entire crew to watch. The invites had stopped coming, for some reason. But still, it wasn't as if I had anything to do tonight.

“Sure, guess I can.”

“After shift tonight then?”

“Sure. But for now, I got to go and finish up my shift.”

I finished up my juice and rose to leave, and Marion got enthusiastic – and loud.

“Alright! Say around six then, I'll expect you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw captain traitor flinch. I waved on my way out the door, managing to skip out of Eric's way. He shot me an appraising look, then a leer. I rolled my eyes in response. Seth and Joe were right behind Eric, oddly enough; I thought they hated him. Guess it had just been me.

On my way back I checked the sleepers. The fix Brunhilde had done was a good one and was holding. I was looking it over in more depth when the door opened. I looked up to find captain traitor framed in it.

Oh, Damn it.

“What are you doing, Mouse?”

Was he insinuating what I thought he was?

“Going over a repair job done by the night shift. You know, my job. It looks good, so if you'll excuse me….”

He just stood there, in the way.

“Why didn't you do it yesterday? I know you found it and logged it.”

“To avoid questions like these, actually. Another plan that didn't work. Now, did you have something that needs repair, or are you just in my way to annoy me?”

His gaze sharpened as his face tightened.

“Yes, I do. I just wanted to let you know that if you found such problems in the future, you can just feel free to repair them, no questions asked. Brun said that patch was top notch and probably would have held at least a week.”

Time to twist the knife maybe? No. It would only be speculation on how the unit got messed up, and it could be wrong. Sometimes hoses just rupture, and coolant hoses tend to rupture or split more often than others due to what is getting pumped through them. So no need to mention unfounded accusations about people being less than careful while trying to trap me here before… yet.

“I don't take chances here, you know that.”

He ran a nervous hand through his hair.

“Look, I've got a bit of a problem. My suit is in need of maintenance, but I don't really have the time to look at it. Can you please do it for me?”

I… what? That made no sense, Roger's suit had been checked and cleared about a month ago, by both himself and I. I know for a fact I hadn't missed a thing, and he'd used it since. What was his game?

“What's wrong with it?”

“I think it's got a micro-rip somewhere. The readout keeps saying it's losing pressure.”

Well, our suits were old and many of them ill-fitting. Rips or wear around cuffs and seals were not uncommon. Even fast developing ones. We did have the facilities to make our own suits (my own was of a newer make, because of my size) but usually it was one per customer, for life. Roger's suit was an older model, however….

“Fine, I'll take a look.”

“Great, I'll just log the work order for tomorrow then; Oddball just has you cleaning the vents the next couple days anyway. I'll let you get back to work; got to triple check some possible course corrections. We probably won't use them, after all, it's not like there's much out here to hit, but doesn't hurt to be on the safe side.”

So that was his game. He left while I was pondering the ramifications. By posing a suit check as an actual work order, he was making it public. He was making the fact that he trusted me with his suit, knowing how I felt about him right now, public. If I screwed him over, the crew would know… but that wasn't his aim. He knew I wouldn't, so he wanted to show the crew I wouldn't either.

Which kind of aggravated me; if the crew didn't know by now how badly things could have gone by pissing me off, and how much they owed to my own restraint, then what was this move going to show? If it worked any better than my own actions since, I was going to be beyond pissed.

I stepped out of the sleeper's chamber and was immediately set upon.

“There you are! Come on, it's time! We have to get this done before lunch hour ends!”

Lissa grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me along. It took actual effort to shake her off; was she always this strong?

“What do you want, Lissa? I've got to get back to work!”

She stopped and turned.

“No, what you have to do is finish taking care of your clothes. Your exercise clothes are sitting in a locker, crying for attention! 'Help us, help us' they are saying… and you're not listening!”

Urk, I'd forgotten all about the clothes treatment thing.

“Alright, I'm coming, no need to be grabby.”

I checked my pad; we still had twenty minutes, so plenty of time. Lissa wasn't trying to run or anything, and she did this more than I, so it was probably enough. Carla and Milla met us at the gym entrance, and walked with us, breaking the silence with a lively debate over the various strengths and weaknesses of their current modified lettuce over past versions. Apparently lettuce in the past wasn't as big as what we had now, and didn't have as much nutritional value going for it.

They were also discussing ways to prepare said lettuce so it didn't taste awful. I didn't think there was any way to manage that miracle, but I didn't tell them that. Volunteering that little tidbit without being asked (or at all) might see me getting hurt.

Of course, Oddball's recent attempts to bribe me might have influenced my sense of taste, but I wasn't about to admit that under torture.

Claire was just leaving the locker room as we entered; she gave me one of her typical pointed glares. I glared back as the door chimed our entry, and she said nothing.

My locker was as I left it, the moisture from my clothes collected. The clothes themselves did seem more clean than simply using the sonic method, more vibrant. It made me wonder how effective sonic showers had been on myself, all this time; had I been running around dirty most of the time, and just not known it?

At any rate, the treatment now was just taking a typical everyday sonic brush, and rubbing it across the clothes in order to remove any crap bonded to them; anyone could do it, and only a few passes later the clothes were spotless. My plastic had some accumulated junk that I really didn't want to inspect in detail. Carla took it with a nod towards their own small piles of… stuff and mixed it in.

“All fertilizer now.”

Lissa came up and made a show of inspecting my exercise outfit.

“Looks good; not a spot missed that I can see. Okay, we're done. See you in a few, Mouse.”

And they walked out just like that, still talking vegetables (this time it was radishes) while I hung my stuff up and flushed the excess water down the sinks. Folding up the plastic wrappers, I resolved to make a better collector for the moisture; I didn't want to carry clothes around all the time, treating them. There were plenty of girls that did, if memory served, but I didn't want to be one of them.

There actually was a bulb burned out on one of the indicator lights in monitor console 21. I changed it and recycled the bulb.

…..

Well, she hadn't ripped his head off or stuck him with a knife, for all that she looked like she was going to. Oddly enough, it was the implication that Mouse didn't know what she was doing with the patch that set her off. I didn't see why that would affect her more than questioning her on why she didn't just fix it, but I had a way to make her and the crew both understand that she was trustworthy.

If she was going to break, it would have been long before now. It was pretty humbling, in a way; Mouse would have made a much better captain than I did. I know I'd have broken long before this, and all Mouse did, really, was make her displeasure felt.

It said something about her, and the mission in general, that Mouse could do more damage to morale with pranks than anyone else probably could with actual sabotage. He still had to meet with Oddball again over the decision that sparked all this. It was done, it could be undone.

Claire walked past with a measured stride, crying silently past a stoic mask; if I hadn't noticed the tears, I would never have guessed.

“Claire, what's wrong?”

I wanted to ask if it was about Mouse, but that would be stupid. These days, it was always about Mouse, in some way or another. She read my mind anyway.

“It's nothing. Probably not what you think at all. My fault really; I just made a mistake, and I'm paying for it.”

She slipped my grip, shoved me away, and walked on; rubbing at her eyes. I got the message. Yet another problem I couldn't fix. Unless that is, Oddball suddenly decided to be reasonable. As if that could even happen.

The bridge was far from the laid back place I was used to.

Will Spets (just Billie now, please), who I felt guilty about thinking of as 'the well adjusted one' but did anyway, was triple checking something at her station. Ronald Simmon was right behind her, despite not having a reason to be on the bridge, normally. I certainly hadn't called him up here. Hitomi was at her station, but not paying any attention to it; not that I blamed her; communications had been a dead station, with nothing going on, since before generation one had been in cryo. It was manned more out of habit and regulation, now.

But if something was going on, they could have called me.

“What's up?”

Billie looked up.

“Something odd, Captain. There is some form of hole in the regular background emissions we normally get, day to day. It's almost directly ahead of us, and it's weird.”

I linked my pad up to the astrogation station and looked.

“You didn't think something unusual was worth calling me for?”

Ron and Billie shared a look. She answered, nervously.

“I just discovered it five minutes ago. And we did call you, we just didn't flag it priority. Because, best we can tell, there isn't any priority; whatever it is, it's almost a full day away.”

I checked my pad. They had, in fact, placed a call. It had been while I was watching Mouse, and I hadn't even realized. That also meant it was actually closer to eight minutes ago, but bringing that up would just be pointless.

“Alright, so what is it?”

Billie answered first.

“We think it's a rogue planet. Some kind of large planetary style body thrown from a nearby system.”

Ron butted in with a look.

“To be more precise, we think it's a gas giant since it seems to be eating some of our sensor emissions. And we aren't sure yet, but it may be completely frozen.”

If it was, then it might have water. It probably already had hydrogen and helium, both very useful gasses. Probably a nice radioactive isotope or two, which would be even better; there were all kinds of uses for those… but wait.”

“You said planet big, right?”

They nodded.

“Exactly how big?”

They looked at each other nervously; they didn't have the answer.

“We aren't sure; the object is almost completely dark; if not for some of our more advanced sensors on the ship we never would have spotted it in time; you see, the object is headed pretty much directly for us. It will either hit us or pass by so close it'll throw us off course and damage us.”

So this wasn't a mining opportunity, like the asteroid; we needed a course correction. That was Billie's job.

“Start calculating the burn to avoid it. The sooner we start, the less we'll have to burn. Ron you can try to take all the readings you want, but Billie your job is making sure we don't smack into it. If you have to, bring people in.”

A bit insulting, with a slight implication that I didn't trust her, but she didn't take offense.

“Will do, Captain.”

She turned back to her console and I was able to catch a glimpse; she had clearly already been laying the groundwork, and hadn't said a word; entirely too easygoing. I wondered if there were more out there; had the rogue celestial body pulled anything else out of orbit with it? Did it have any hangers-on? Sure there was one headed straight for us, but what about those headed at an angle?

If there was one headed at us at an oblique, or ahead of us and moving in a direction where we'd intercept… well, we'd be dead, mission failed. The only option I saw was a complete burn to slow down. Otherwise, at the speeds we were going our computers, even Oddball, wouldn't have the microseconds necessary to complete a full image of obstructions; and worse, some objects, like certain types of rogue planets, would actually absorb some of our ways to detect in front of us, like radar.

A good reason to talk to Mouse; she'd be thrilled, of course.

I'd better see if I could come up with options on my own, first. Pulling up the Magellan's full current schematic caused a headache, instantly; all the last minute modifications and notations that should have been collated into one coherent whole… weren't. Past event logs weren't much better, I knew from experience. Generation 1's were fine, all clipped proper speech and time lines, but Generation 2's? A complete mess, even the incident that screwed us, later. Nothing in either generations event files like this, so no precedent to go by.

To order the slow, or take the chance? So far it was only my speculation that had more objects out there. Oddball hadn't even chimed in, which was… well, a little odd. This far out, the only object with any significant gravity at all had to be that rogue planet. It can't be traveling that fast, probably less than 32,000 kph, which was our speed rounded down...less than 20 minutes, to be conservative. That wasn't even enough time to come to a full stop unless we did an emergency one. No, best not to risk it.

“Full reverse, all engines, three-minute burn. You have that long to calculate a course to avoid the gravity well of that object, or as much of it as you are able. Hitomi, patch your console into astrogation and start running sweeps; full sweeps, with every scanner and means of detection we have.”

Now it was time to bite the bullet.

“Bridge to engineering.”

There was a rogue planet out there, and it was going to come close enough to pull us. Captain Traitor had ordered a full stop to be safe, which would set us back months. He was probably right, though; I re-calibrated our sensors. Given to us by the aliens who had helped us leave the nest, they measured the movement of both dark matter and energy in the direction they were pointed; any movement in either usually meant an object or energy that was dangerous to humans.

Might have been dangerous to the aliens too; even with pictures and what other data Gen 1 had collected, I couldn't be certain of that. They were nothing like old Earth biology at all or even our imaginings of alien biology.

Done with the re-positioning and re-calibration (We normally kept the sensors reined in somewhat to discourage false positives) I flipped the switch.

The answer came back immediately: we were absolutely surrounded by foreign objects, all flying every which way and bouncing off each other. Clearly, the rogue planet's gravity well was already working its magic.

We had no less than sixteen objects heading our way, either directly to us or close enough to be considered a danger. The readings were already being shown on the bridge, but I still had to ask.

“You getting this, bridge?”

The response from Captain Traitor was immediate. “Yeah, we see it. Hang onto something.”

I grabbed onto a convenient handhold and waited. We had our own gravity, after all, and that sometimes caused things not properly bolted down to fly when we decelerated, though I had been told it wasn't quite the same as what one got from a planet, since it was our own gravity.

The sudden deceleration came, much worse than the gradual deceleration I'd been experiencing before. I rode it out and checked our shields. They weren't really shields that so much of the fiction of our home planet painted; invisible bands of force that could stop objects or weapons cold, but there was that aspect. They were ablative panels that moved, angling objects away from more sensitive areas of the hull. They were also backed by massive electro-magnets, capable of generating enough force to slow anything that had ferrous metal content down.

It wasn't perfect, but it worked. Well, aside from having to replace any panels; Cargie had hated replacing them. Probably because it required him to stuff himself in his EVA suit, and Cargie had been a big guy. I often wondered how he'd managed that when food was so carefully controlled and come to the conclusion that like the alcohol, he'd made his own... but he never had told me where that was.

Sometimes it worried me that there might be strange plant life rotting away in a hold somewhere.

But no, I needed to focus. The first panel was hit, but did it's job with a minimum of deformity. Oddball, or at least one of his subsystems, was controlling the angle of the panels, but I was watching him.

I didn't really trust Oddball much anymore. I wonder why?

Everything worked just fine. Two of the objects angled off poorly and cause some minor structural damage. Nothing to worry about, at least not yet; I made a note of where it was just in case the alarm indicators failed or turned off, and reported in. They would know of the shield deployment (they could have done it themselves of course, and Oddball could have done it on his own) and be watching from their own monitors.

“Bridge, engineering here. Some minor hits, nothing too terrible. But we should probably warm up the impact cannons, in case.”

The impact cannons were useful, slug throwers that used the principle of magnetism to throw small rocks or metal balls into large foreign objects to break them up and slow their momentum. Just one could fire seventeen slugs a second, and we had six of them on tracks set between the hulls. They could fire out but were protected normally, but deploying them was a minor risk.

I could always build one from scratch if I wanted to, so losing one wasn't that big a risk. It was certainly better than the alternative.

No human could properly plot a firing solution of course, but if Oddball was handling the shields, chances were he would handle the weapons just fine. If he didn't there was an old backup, built entirely on Earth, for the impact cannons. Not too many knew of it's existence, and it wasn't hooked into the network, but it wouldn't take more than a minute to correct both problems.

The cannons came online and started doing their thing.

…...

I had Billie ready to go, but she needed to know which way to burn. The screens showed that most of the debris was moving in one direction; orbiting. How had we gotten into the center of this without noticing?

“Three and relative low, Billie. Let the computer catch up and plot the course.”

When there were hundreds of objects of varying sizes, sometimes the computer plotting them all in order to make a course had problems. Oddball could do it But I liked a second opinion and a human hand involved; especially now. But away and in the same direction as most of the objects was good enough for now.

“Mouse.”

Her voice was lightened up to something beautiful, her tone less so. “Yes Captain Traitor?”

“Can you tell me the status of the cannon feeds?”

Sometimes the ammunition used in the cannons wasn't perfectly spherical; It hadn't really been machined that way in generations. So the ammunition feeds could clog and the cannons jam.

“All cannons report fully operational. Cannons two and five report low ammunition, but they should be fine for now. The shields are fine, though shield fifty-two is crumpled a bit from a strike, and the impact is affecting Oddball's ability to angle. So, if you have to you should roll us to avoid a hit there; that's at our chem lab wing.”

Not the place you want something hitting. The best place would be the primary habitat wing; not only was it better protected but all of us who normally used it were off doing our jobs. Let's see, a roll 'up' would put an impact at the third secondary water tank, used for experiments and hydroponics, and a roll 'down' would put a hit at maneuvering thruster number thirteen and the fuel feed. Relative up it was; we could stand to lose some partially contaminated water if we had to. Especially since most of it would freeze in the worst case scenario and we could recover it later.

“Don't suppose we have any spare ammunition for them, Mouse?”

“We don't keep that much on hand, but I'll see what I can do.” And she was gone, to work her magic. I knew we didn't keep much ammunition on hand for the cannon, it was a waste of weight and resources, but I'm sure the engineers had some special doomsday trick if the situation called for it; Cargie had for everything else, after all, and Mouse was better than he was.

The big hits stopped as Billie brought us on our new course, and the little hits didn't matter nearly as much; the shields could soak those all day, at least with most of the inertia they had spent.

The rogue planet was still coming, thanks to the course change we were now certain to miss it. The other objects though, those were a problem.

“Engineering to bridge.”

Whatever she wanted must be good to contact me. “Got a crazy plan. We are going to lose quite a bit of velocity from passing this close; what say we make it work for us, and gain some instead?”

Yes passing this close to a large planet's gravity well would slow us down. Was Mouse suggesting what I thought she was?

“I'm listening.”

She cut right back. “Don't play dumb;You know I'm talking about a slingshot. We go around a good seven or eight times, use the gravity well for us, and we can actually gain speed and make our destination galaxy much faster.”

She had to be weighing the risks. Staying the range of the gravity well would leave us open to all the debris we were trying to avoid. “How much faster.”

“Anywhere from six to ten years faster.”

We could reach the galaxy and it's planets in our lifetime. Not a maybe, a definite. Plus, reducing the time meant reducing the time spent in a dangerous transit. Less time spent under Oddball's watch.

However, the increased speed would affect our sensor range. That would be a huge risk.

Mouse knew what I was thinking. “Don't worry, I can alleviate the sensor risk. Besides, the planet already swept everything in our path up, probably.”

Gravity could act as a broom, sometimes. There should be a corridor more empty than normal back that way.

“See to the ammunition. We will need more. After that, we can discuss it.”

“Sure thing.” The answer was upbeat. Damn it, she knew what his answer was already.

“Roger? Sir?” Billie asked; she hadn't picked up on it.

“Just focus on evasive maneuvers for now, Billie.”

I went into the command conference room then called Siegfried. He wasn't long in responding.

“What's up, Captain? I hear we have a situation?”

No time, no time... “We have an emergency situation, needing a command decision. I'd like your input.”

It took longer than I wanted to explain the choices, and Siegfried was quiet for some time.

“I would say we just stay on course as much as we can, and ride it out. It may cost us years down the line, but it isn't worth the risk; the mission is too important. But in light of recent events? I think it might be time to take a stupid risk or two.”

His thoughts verbalized gelled my own.

“Right. It might come down to just riding everything out, but I think we can find an unoccupied lane. Alright, Sieg what do you say about rotating shifts?” I didn't want both of us down at the same time, and Sieg was the more trusted of the two of us right now, so putting him on the night shift (which didn't deal with me as much anyway) was a good idea. I could also trust Sieg to keep me in the loop if necessary.

“I say it's an idea. I guess I'll go try and sleep.”

“Good luck.” Knowing him, he'd be asleep in five minutes; a more laid back guy I just didn't know.

Well, I had a consensus, and that was good enough for a decision. I stepped out of the conference room and only glanced longingly at the liquor cabinet. I didn't need the habit.

“Billie, calculate a course for a slingshot maneuver.”

“Already done, Roger. Mouse calculated one, and I've double-checked it. Oddball is currently checking it for any errors.”

Oddball was doing something? Probably an uncharitable thought, considering if we got pulverized it died along with us and failed his mission. That couldn't be something it wanted, could it?

Billie's console chirped. “It's done, course complete.” She announced.

“Don't waste time, just use it.” I didn't need a play by play, she already knew what the plan was and what the stakes were.

I could feel motion as the Billie plotted the course, but I wasn't good enough to tell from where. There was something else, though, and I couldn't pin it down. I sat down but didn't belt in, watching the ship status.

Which got boring after awhile. Luckily, Mouse broke the monotony.

“Captain Traitor.” sigh.

“Go ahead, Mouse.”

“Got all the ammunition we could need. Made some tough ice our of some waste liquids, molded to fit. With the life support around the cannon turned off, they won't melt before we need them, and they will slow anything shot down. It'll require more bullets, but it won't fragment objects as much as our current stuff does.”

That was... remarkably good thinking. “Good work.”

“Whatever. Engineering out.”

…...

I watched the cannon work. Taking the worst waste slush we had, mixing it altogether, throwing it in some old ball bearing molds and then loading it up was a stroke of genius if I did say so myself. Sure, it took several shots rather than simply one or two per object, but the ice vaporized much easier, and instead of shattering what it hit, it merely nudged it out of the way or dumped it's velocity so the impact was feather soft. Well, at least most of the time.

The problem was now I'd have to decontaminate my suit; waste liquids were radioactive. The dose was mild, but it was enough that I didn't want to put it off too long, for all that I needed to right now.

At least we had enough ammunition now – three thousand rounds per cannon - provided Billie learned how to dodge a rock. It was like she was trying to hit every single one or something; cannon ten had already switched to the new stuff exclusively, and cannon eight and four were well on their way.

I tweaked the fuel flow mix going into the maneuvering thrusters. Throwing off burn calculations to the main engines was something I wouldn't do, but a little bit of extra dodging capability couldn't hurt. It would just mean I'd have to overhaul them later; but that just gave me something to do, assuming we survived.

Billie adjusted quickly, and we started using less ammunition; good.

I scanned myself for radiation, then set up one of my cots in the corner of the office. Setting my pad to alert me in case of several different kinds of emergencies, I laid down. I wasn't about to leave engineering during all this, but I couldn't just stare at a screen for hours. With my normal jobs done, the sleepers checked, I'd get bored pretty fast. So games or sleep it was.

…...

Brun woke me up. Her pad chimed a harsh counterpoint to the more normal engine noises; if I'd been less swift on the uptake I'd have probably broken my own trying to shut it off.

Instead I focused right in, finding her watching the main engineering console. “Sorry; I forgot to turn the alarm down.”

I stretched; sometimes I curled up on the cots, and that made me a little stiff. “No problem, Guessing it's time to be up anyway. You checked the sleepers yet?”

She shook her head no; it was barely two hours into her shift. I'd slept through Gym, and no one had tried to wake me? That seemed a little suspicious.

“Do you want to?” I'd have offered to do it myself, even preferred it that way, but I wasn't entirely trusted right now, so letting Brun do it would have to do.

She nodded. “Sure, get's a load off my mind.”

She grabbed her tools and left while I checked my pad. Hm, Gym was declared voluntary today, with people showing up or not based on whim, probably. There was a note from Milla, stating the botany team was locking down all the hydroponics for rough travel, and food production was temporarily halted for the next few days.

Chemistry, the bio-sciences, the textile Mill Claire had control of, and most of the other labs had followed suit. The clinic was still open, at least. I stumbled getting up; there was a drag, a slight but noticeable drag coming from my left side – starboard side. We had to be close to or orbiting something.

According to the console, something had buckled shield number four and it would no longer respond to commands. The camera directed at it showed the entire hydraulic strut bent and crumpled at one end. It was going to be a real pain in the butt to replace, provided I could even machine one. Until I did that shield would just stick out at that angle.

More worrying was the fact that I'd slept through whatever hit us; that couldn't have been a soft impact. Maybe the strut failure had absorbed more than the normal impact? No, that didn't make sense at all, and I wasn't a light sleeper.

Maybe I'd just been more tired than normal?

“Engineering to the bridge.”

Siegfried answered... and I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. “Bridge, go ahead Mouse.”

“I'm watching the monitors now. Any idea what crumpled number four?”

“A pretty big asteroid; it bounced instead of deflecting off. Going to be quite the eyesore until we get it repaired.” Sieg was fishing for information, there. Why he didn't just ask whether I could fix it, I didn't know. It should be obvious it just needed a few new struts on it.

“Yeah, should be, but the actual fix won't take long. Going to have people screaming about the amount of metals used, however. Well, at least until we melt the old ones.”

I checked the ammunition feeds. They seemed more full than when I laid down, but I'd already used all the waste liquids.

“What did you refill the cannon ammunition feeds with?”

“Seth and Joe ground down some parts of that asteroid we hauled in some weeks ago. That and used some of the waste from it.”

Well, that was good thinking. It's what I would have done if I'd been awake.

“Hit frequency still high?”

I could hear Sieg's dismissal. “Nah; we're closer to the planet. Orbiting it tight, turn number four and counting.”

Ah, as we start going back across the debris field again it'll pick back up.

“Who's at the helm?” It couldn't still be Billie.

“Ronald.”

Well, it could have been worse. Guido would have probably plowed us into the planet by now.

“Need help anywhere? When Brun gets back I plan on checking the hull and systems around number four, but other than that I'm free.”

No reason not to run a nice physical inspection to make sure nothing's wrong; the impact damage, force, or some of either, could have easily overwhelmed the safety systems and shaken something loose or caused some metal fatigue. Of course, if that was likely, Brun would probably already be there repairing it and I'd already be awake.

Maybe Brun was still in the habit of trusting the cameras and sensors. I'd have to break her of that, later.

She came back an hour later and promptly started staring over my shoulder at the displays.

“Sleepers fine?”

She nodded, tapping the number three's maneuvering thruster fuel gauge; the low fuel red light turned itself off, and I added it to the list of minor fixes to be completed sometime later. “The emergency impact measures are employed, and everything is triple green.”

“Had a chance to run a visual over the damage around four yet?”

“Had Eric and Opal looking over it, but they had some other stuff to do. Nothing major broken though, or we'd know already. Why, are you volunteering to have a look?”

“Well, I'll end up repairing it anyway; might as well have a look – that is, unless you have something else you think I should be doing?”

She finally looked up, shot me a hard look, and shrugged. “I don't care. You're the boss; if you just start in like you normally do, however, you could log it first so I know what's going on.”

“Will do.” I grabbed my own tools, just in case, and started off. Once out of sight I checked it; the lock and other anti-tampering measures I'd started using were still in place. Never could be too careful – at least if you were me.

After all, next time I could wake up as something else entirely. All it would take is Oddball holding the vote, and my loving crew would once again vote nearly unanimously. Well, maybe that was a little uncharitable, but I still wasn't taking chances.

The Hull around shield number four was fine, the metal wasn't stressed or cracked, and the systems I could get to looked to be just fine. I wasn't going to go into the service tunnels, though, I had a better idea. I'd suit up and EVA in the space between hulls and get a better look at the other side; that would give me a much better idea of whatever I was dealing with before something mission critical had a chance to explode.

“Excuse me, Chief engineer Mouse.”

I turned away from the airlock my suit was in to find one of Oddball's security bots (Number 37, I noted; that might come in handy later.) staring me down. At least it didn't have it's weapons out.

“What do you want, Oddball?”

“I'd prefer if you did not EVA. Your suit is radioactive, and therefore dangerous to attempt extra-vehicular activity in.”

What? “Not performing the check is more dangerous; you have to know that.”

“Of course; to that end, I would propose a compromise.”

Here it comes... “What compromise?”

“I would like to propose you take control of one of my drones to use for the purpose. The unit would be slaved to your pad for the duration of the inspection and it should allow you to perform such an inspection without placing yourself in danger.”

Well, creepy factor aside, that actually didn't sound like a bad thing. IF I could trust Oddball. IF I could trust what I was seeing. This was the first time I'd heard of Oddball actually sticking his neck out at all, for anyone of the crew like this. He had made suggestions before but never offered direct help. Then again, he was in danger too, if the ship got cracked in half he was just as dead as the rest of us.

I didn't trust it.

“I'll have to have assurance that the drone is transmitting unfiltered information directly to me. I've no doubt that since you can control the feeds, you can alter them. I want that control for myself, and I'll share the information with you afterward.”

Oddball thought for a second. “That is acceptable. I assume you will require movement control as well; I will instruct you on how to run a bypass of my control scheme if you promise not to interfere with the drones emergency kill switch.”

So he didn't want to just hand me a drone of my own, indefinitely. That was fair. “I agree, and I promise. So where is this drone you're talking about?”

“It is standing in front of you.”

The security bot was a drone to him? These things were armed and all but unbeatable, at least by anything on this ship. Oddball really was trusting me. Engineering didn't even handle the maintenance on these things, and the schematics were not in our database; this would be my first look at the insides of one. It might be any humans first look at the insides of one since they were made.

“Alright, tell me what to do.”

My pad lit up with schematics and step by step instructions. The Oddball started talking on top of that; I rolled my eyes and tried my best not to throw the thing as he started with: “First remove panel C-3....”

The security drone was re-purposed, and working beautifully. I walked it around, the magnetic clamps on. Already I'd spotted a few potential problems that the cameras and other sensors couldn't see, mainly because a few of them were out. Nothing immediately dangerous, though I wasn't sure how I could possibly begin bending that support strut back. It annoyed me that one of the bones of the ship was bent out of true, even if it was just a little. Maybe I could....

The drone chirped, and Oddball's voice came through it. Why hadn't I disabled that while I was at it, with the drone at my mercy? “Visual survey complete. Initial analysis concludes the damage thus far is minor and does not endanger the mission. Further impacts will require further evaluation.”

Well, no kidding. I sipped my juice; I was conducting this inspection from the cafeteria; it was nice and quiet, with an audience of one. Claire was all but biting her nails as she looked on over my shoulder, her domain already secured against catastrophic impacts and power failure. A fire extinguisher was on the table next to her, the ring teased half out. I was waiting for it to pop out and spray our foam mix all over her; the stuff was annoying to clean up.

“Will you relax, Claire? We aren't even getting hit by anything anymore.” That wasn't quite true, but we weren't getting hit by anything big.

“They say it's always the one you don't see, Mouse.”

That was true. Our parents had drilled that bit of wisdom into us from the crib on.

“True, but we have probes sent out to increase our sensor range, there is no reason to believe we won't see them in time.”

“Oh? The Captain okay-ed the expense?” The drones were partially of alien make and were expensive to produce. We could do it, but usually Oddball made them, and they were supposed to be used for planet surveys.

However, even if we couldn't recover them (a probe fired off while we were going at speeds was a probe we couldn't catch up with) they wouldn't do us any good sitting in the bay if something our size slammed into us. We normally carried six, and I'd fired five.

“No. I did, and Oddball concurred.” I hadn't even needed to convince Oddball, which was more than a little worrying.

So far the expense hadn't been worth it. The increase in range was nice, but it hadn't picked up anything we hadn't already found. That is, the space was empty of anything big enough to really hurt us so far, which was more than a little troubling; it meant that the debris field here was constantly impacting itself, the various space objects grinding each other down by hitting each other.

Our shields were getting ground down the same way, but right now it was a slow process.

Well, speak of the devil, and Captain traitor appears. He walked on in, bold as ever, and wasted no time seating himself at my table. “Mouse. Everything alright with shield number four?”

I slid my pad his way; he could find the playback button himself. “See for yourself. Looks alright to me.”

He didn't take the bait.

“I thought you were going to run an EVA to check?”

Oh, so that's what his problem was. He was beating around the bush for it, but wondering why I hadn't actually logged any time outside when I logged the order to go; they were still tracking me. So he thinks I didn't do it, or half-assed it, which is more than a little infuriating.

“I did, remotely. Oddball and I re-purposed one of his drones. That's the footage on my pad; going over it reveals nothing immediate, and Oddball agrees. For as bad as it looks, the Magellan is still spaceworthy, and the shield will hold against anything that won't crack the ship in half.”

Captain Traitor nodded, slowly. I used to be able to read him better; what was he thinking? “Alright. And this notification about our probes Oddball sent me?”

“We used them to extend sensor range around us, to give us more time to evade the larger space debris. All of them are online and still sending telemetry; we can recover one of them at the very least. I set it to tow behind us, so unless it gets trashed I can just reel it in.”

“Why didn't you consult me on this decision?” I couldn't read him, but I knew that wasn't what he wanted to ask.

“You were asleep and I already had a consensus.” Oddball and I counted as one, and for all that I hated Oddball at the moment, he was on board with not dying.

Seig had also backed me once he knew Oddball was on board, but I wasn't going to tell him that; he could look it up himself if he was so interested. Heck, I wasn't even supposed to be on shift right now. I was the last person to question anyone else's sleeping habits, but being a captain wasn't like being an engineer; having more than one on shift was actually helpful.

I took my pad back since he didn't want to double-check, and watched the drone cycled the airlock and came back inside the ship, none the worse for wear. I'd had complete control, but apparently, the thing was still Oddball's. I tested with the arm, and found I could still move it. Oddball didn't counter my commands to have the drone smack itself in the face.

My pad chimed with a message the same time Captain Traitor's did. Mine was from Oddball... and it was requesting a meeting as soon as possible. As soon as possible?!? Oddball never requested meetings as soon as possible; he always set a time and kept to a schedule. Captain Traitor looked up from his pad; I could just make out that he had gotten the same message.

Whatever it was, it had to be important.

“Got to go, Claire.” I stood up and left, not waiting for Captain Traitor to stammer out his own excuses.

He followed me into the hall, however, and caught up quickly. We walked in silence; I didn't have anything to say to him, and he didn't want to say what he should to me.

Oddball was just as I'd last seen him – and yet not. He came out of his wall looking almost... pensive? How did he even manage to look pensive or hesitant at all?

He came out of his wall and gestured to us. “Chief engineer Mouse, Captain Smitt, please come in.”

He waited for the automatic door to close behind Captain Traitor before animating himself again. “I have asked you to come to discuss the rift in trust among the crew.”

I shared a look with Roger; did we really have time for this?

Oddball continued. “I have pondered and calculated, and I believe I have a solution which will be mutually beneficial for all parties concerned.”

Well time or not, I was all ears. “And what solution would that be?”

Oddball paused, stopping dead again for about half a second before turning his face my way. “First, a clarification. You do not wish to be female, correct? Being female does not make you happy?”

He really didn't understand this? “No, being female does not make me happy! Why would you ever think it would?”

Truth told it was more that I had been chosen against my will than anything else; I wasn't a woman hater.

Oddball paused again, then nodded. “However, the crew requires a certain number of females in order to procreate effectively, as well as to ensure a proper family dynamic required for best human interaction. This was agreed to by human governmental forces in power during the inception of our mission as well as past crews. If we counter my programming in such a way, any future colony made by this ship will suffer. I cannot counter my programming, and yet there has been talk among the crew of taking me offline due to the decision made in your case. This is an undesirable outcome for us all.”

Oddball knew. He had heard me plotting rebellion. No, he had heard us; Roger had been discussing turning off Oddball with me before. But Oddball couldn't just ice us or space us; he needed us.

Well, unless he did then converted some other unlucky members of the crew to make up the numbers. I wouldn't put it past him to try, not anymore. “How would such a future colony suffer if I was a guy?”

Oddball's response was immediate, no pause this time. “If both yourself and Roger are male, genetic variation will be less, increasing the incidence of diseases and unfavorable genetic mutation. If you are male, our population size requirement for colonization will not be met.”

Roger got involved, asking a question he really should know the answer to. “Can't some other girl just have more kids to make up the numbers?”

“It's about speciation, Roger. Oddball is saying that our genetic variance will suffer already with a small population size, and we can't take another hit; so we need more girls, more X chromosome carriers, to lower or offset the risk of genetic diseases. If we don't, then ten generations down the line our family trees won't fork enough, and our entire population will be at risk of something that could wipe us out.”

It was really no different than the Botany classes we all took as kids stated; our crops worked better mixed than bred to be pure; at least on a planet. We had two different kinds of seeds for that reason, tagged 'planet use' and 'ship use'.

It was rather illuminating, how Oddball saw us, the crew, as no different than plants.

But that wasn't quite right, even so. We had the genetic profiles of every creature that had survived on Earth until our departure, not to mention our own stock of frozen animals. The intent was to unfreeze them and then clone babies for the needed genetic variance, assuming an ecosystem is needed on whatever planet we find. So if humankind was no different than any other animal, why wouldn't that work for us? I mean, we could take care of cloned babies far easier than some lion or something, and we wouldn't even have to be drugged in order to make it happen.

I was always told the expense for cloning without planetary support was prohibitive, but it beat not have suitability as a species. Besides, it was mostly chemical now, and couldn't really be that bad.

“Why not just use cloning?”

Oddball paused, stopping dead for almost a full two seconds before reviving himself. His answer was mystifying. “I do not know. The answer on record was that a clone might be improperly socialized, and the mission compromised as a result.”

However, he did not believe that. It was obvious, his disbelief and worry. Just as obvious was that his hands were tied; as a machine, he had to do as programmed, and follow his mandate. He was backed into a corner.

I could almost pity him. “Well, I'd say this decision compromised the mission too.”

Oddball rolled his shoulders, left first and then right – was that supposed to be a shrug? “It has. To that end, I would like to propose a compromise.”

“I'm listening.” Just how by all the stars could you compromise this?

Oddball made a show of pacing. “You are no doubt aware of the process used to prepare you for your role among the crew. The process is reversible. However....”

“Wait, you can reverse this?!?” How would you even do that? You'd need certain... parts. Oddball was a machine, though, keeping things in jars and on ice wouldn't be too big a stretch for him, if it was a stretch at all.

Oddball paused at my outburst, nodded, and continued. “I cannot simply reverse it now, however, such an act is contrary to the mission and my programming. What I require is two successful conceptions, two children on your part before I can reverse the procedure as you request.”

….Oddball wanted me to have kids. Oddball wanted me to do THAT. With a guy. And have kids. Only one thing to say to that. “You're out of your mind.”

Oddball ticked through a mechanical sigh. “I cannot give specifics due to confidentiality, but you would not be the first member of the crew to view conceiving with a member of the opposite sex to be distasteful; those crew members did their duty.”

Oddball then stared directly at me and added. “Will you?”

Insufferable bastard. “But I wasn't a girl until you got your metal claws into me. That's a pretty big difference between being born gay in my opinion.”

Oddball whisked himself into the air, giving another shrug, this one a bit more even. “Noted. However the fact remains you are female now, and this solution is the only solution I have been able to calculate that gives all parties involved what they require.”

I didn't even have to think about it. “Your solution sucks.”

Oddball nodded. Nodded! “I know. But tell me, chief engineer Mouse – in another instance such as we find ourselves in now, would you rather have my assistance or be without it? I have calculated fuel expenditures, shield angles, and potential threat avenues as well as the orbit and distance of all known debris around the planet we are currently passing. I know you can do the same, but can you do it in seconds, while seeing to other matters? Answer me truthfully, please.”

Damn him, no I couldn't and he knew it. So this was his game now? To have me admit he was indispensable? He continued.

“I admit in my investigations into your species that one of the primary things I have found is your tendency to risk, but is the risk of turning me off worth the failure of the mission? This crew may be all of humanity left in the universe, in a universe so sparsely filled with intelligent life My own creators have not found another like your species.

I admit your discomfort and my part in it. I apologize for it. But how much is your comfort worth? Is it worth the loss of all you hold dear?”

That I had an answer for. “If what makes humans actually human is lost, then yes, it might be worth the risk. And gender is part of what makes humans who and what they are.”

I was beginning to suspect that the aliens humanity had met, just before the end of Earth, hadn't had genders at all.

Oddball sighed again. “I am.. prepared to negotiate further actions on my part. I am prepared to agree that if at all possible, I will seek and act on advice or options from the bridge crew on all future actions which might cause divisiveness or a lack of unity among the crew. This is contingent upon your agreement of my earlier compromise, of course.”

So... we'd have a say on what Oddball did in the future before he did it? Not only that, but future bridge crews would too! I looked at Roger, who'd been silent so far. His eyes were as wide as mine had to be. I didn't have to think twice... but I was going to.

“I'd like to think on it, and give my answer when the current crisis is resolved.”

Oddball paused a moment before backing up through the air, nodding along the way. “That is acceptable. Please, have a good evening.”

And back into his cubby he went, powering down. The door opened, and a shell-shocked Roger went through. I guess we were done for now; I followed.

“So, um... you weirded out by that too?” He asked.

“Officially weirded out, yes. Anything new from our friendly neighborhood planet?” When in doubt, substitute problems.

Roger checked his pad. Mine hadn't chirped during the meeting. If I had gotten a message, it would have interrupted anything, even Oddball. “Nothing. I'd feel... happier knowing you were back in engineering though.”

“Sure, no problem.”

We split up, roger headed up, and I headed down. My thoughts kept coming back to one thing; had Oddball ever apologized or explained anything? In all the records and conversation transcripts I'd seen, the answer was no. Not even once. Other people had figured out Oddball's reasoning later, or made excuses, but Oddball had never explained himself.

Maybe he hadn't needed to, with earlier generations understanding more of his programming and how he thought, but that didn't ring true to me.

I didn't see anyone in the halls – was everyone still at emergency stations? Were we even still taking hits? I hadn't heard or felt any impacts through the hull in some time.

That actually struck me as a little ominous.

Brun was back in engineering, watching our sensor screen with an intensity bordering on single-minded. She waved as I approached, but that was all.

“Shield four is fine, for now. Are we through the debris field?”

She nodded. “Yeah, the ring or whatever it is is behind us now. We're just starting the slingshot maneuvering we need to. Ronald's handling it, Spetz was relieved to go rest up.”

Not surprising, she had been up there for twelve hours or more. Oddball hadn't mentioned her at all; I had the feeling that it wasn't an oversight – she must be happy being made female by the orders of another. I couldn't understand it, but if she was happy being a she then good for her.

Ronald was good. Not as good as I was, or even as good as Will was (what had she said her new name was to be? Willemina? No that wasn't it) but he was good.

I settled in to watch, trying not to blink.

…....

Mouse hadn't said no. I had been so sure she would say no, just spit it out, right there in front of Oddball's face, and lunge to turn him off. But she hadn't. What had changed? Was she really considering... that?

It was a great deal, an amazing deal, a deal which could change everything. The impact on our future endeavors and the future of the crew could not be understated. All it required was the sacrifice of one crew member, which was really no different than before. Less, really, since Mouse was the only one objecting to the current situation at all.

I had the feeling more would, if more were affected; Mouse was not universally well loved, for all that she thought she was. Jealousy was an ugly, ever-present emotion that even I had felt once or twice.

Who would even want to deal with Mouse in such a state? Sure, she was hot... but she was still angry and had a chip on her shoulder a mile wide. Normally the crew paired up as sort of a 'first loved, first serve' with the people unable to find romance just pairing up with each other and keeping a cool but not cold household; those who found love, like Mouse's parents, were the lucky ones. But I didn't see Oddball leaving things to chance, or letting Mouse take the spinster route.

Too bad I still couldn't figure out what its game was.

Why was Oddball, a computer made to ensure the survival of the human race, trying so hard for one member of the crew? Even if it was Mouse, the best of us, it didn't make any sense. It was inefficient and wasteful to expend so much effort, so much care... wasn't it?

Why would Oddball be so illogical? Or was the fault not in the stars, but in ourselves? I had to be missing something.

I wish I could miss the bridge, but no such luck. At least no one looked panicked. Seig came strolling up with his hands hooked in his belt, no less.

“What's up, Captain?”

“Nothing much - just had an emergency conference with Oddball.”

He perked up immediately, and behind him. Ron did too. “Oh? Something he knows that we don't?”

“No, he just finally chimed in on the Mouse situation; everything is still in the green as far as this emergency, even though it doesn't approve of the risk we're taking to gain speed.”

Seig shrugged. “Well, that isn't a surprise; Oddball doesn't approve much of what we do. If it had its way, we'd be dumb babes in the woods, relying on it for everything.”

I snorted. “Probably.” As if any human population, even a desperate one, would allow that to happen. Obstinate self-reliance was in our blood.

….in our blood....

“What's up Cap? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“No, nothing like that. Just thought of something, that's all.”

That was it. Oddball wasn't just interested in the survival of humanity, he was interested in improving it. I had forgotten, we all had, that our families were originally chosen for our genes, not just our skills.

And if Oddball had a plan, one that had to be enforced both by its masters, and our earlier generations, then it had someone in mind. It had picked Mouse, and had someone in mind for Mouse to mate with. It really wasn't doing anything differently than our distant ancestors had done with dogs, cats, mice, and rats.

And earlier generations had to know.

Mouse should know about this, but I wasn't about to be the one to tell her. She'd figure it out herself if she hadn't already. I was going to look for evidence of the mandate given Oddball; one had to exist, and Oddball couldn't hide the data from me. I was the one person it couldn't hide anything from, in fact.

“So, Oddball chimed in on the Mouse situation, huh? What did it say?”

I turned back to Seig. “It offered a compromise. It's up to Mouse whether she accepts it; other than that I can't say.” He didn't need to know how beneficial it would be for us. No one did – if they did then they might try to pressure Mouse to accept, and that would be a disaster.

Seig shrugged again. “fair enough. As long as it's solved.”

He went back to watching the sensor screens, and I joined him. It wasn't like I'd be able to sleep more tonight in any case.

It was always the one you didn't see that got you; a bit of spacer truth. In this case, it might be incorrect; we were seeing this one, and it was well on it's way to ending us.

A rock so big it could be a rogue moon, showing a spin on our sensors that would likely make it unpredictable if I were using just math and not modeling software, was set to come in from our starboard side and crush us like a tin can in thrown into a gravity generator arm.

The good news was we had some time; almost an hour in order to make a course correction and avoid our fate. The problem was, where to? What direction should we burn in, in order to avoid all of those unseen buddies a rock like this would have?

It was always the unseen one that got you.

I felt there was another unseen thing lurking to get me; the deal Oddball was offering was a terrible one... but it felt like there was more going on there too. Like Oddball was planning something, something I couldn't see but was there, waiting to trip me up or kill me. Or kill something of me, at any rate. A bit of hyperbole, but not entirely untrue.No matter how I twisted and turned my point of view, I couldn't see the hidden trap which had to be there.

The space rocks were easier to find.

I guess it didn't matter, that particular trap only mattered if we navigated this one. I triple checked my figures; there were three different angles, three different tacks to take. We could slow down, burning a ton or more of fuel and missing our slingshot window, which would, of course, lead to burning more fuel. A terrible option but likely the safest.

The second option was under or below the moon, relatively. that direction had the benefit of burning far less fuel, but it involved a corkscrew of our own to maintain. It also had the added bonus of keeping us in our slingshot window without any extra maneuvering, if only just.

The third option was relative up, over the moon. This direction had the benefit of burning the least amount of fuel to start, though a little burn would be required once the rock was safely past in order to reorient to our window. It looked the most safe.

"What do you think, Oddball?"

"I can find no errors in your arithmetic. Based on the projections, the third course seems the best to take." He answered from my pad.

And that was why Oddball would never make a good captain. "Yeah, it's too good; I don't trust it."

I stood up and stretched, sending the bridge a message and forwarding the data and equations.

Roger called me back. "Chief engineer to the bridge, please."

Damn it, we did not have time for this; it would take me ten minutes to get there, and that was ten minutes we didn't really have; the longer we waited, the more expensive the burn to escape would be.

"What do you want?!?"

I could tell Roger was keeping himself tightly under control. "I want my chief engineer on the bridge, please."

"Fine, on my way."

I traveled there my way; it took less than five. As soon as the door opened I asked him: "What is so important that you need me here before a crucial burn?"

"The engines will either perform or blow up, with or without you, Mouse," Roger responded. "What I want is you in the most secure part of the ship."

Silly. "The most well-protected part of the ship is actually Oddball's server room."

You could light a nuke off outside the door of that room, and Oddball would survive. Well, maybe not, but close enough.

Roger blew a breath. "Second strongest, then. And while I have you here, I feel I should ask; which route would you take if the choice is yours?"

"The second strongest is the popsicle room. The bridge is third strongest." I thought about it for almost a second, mostly for the appearance of being thorough. "Under the rock."

"Not over?" Roger stressed.

I shook my head. "Too easy, and I don't trust it." Something also struck me as off about the rotation on it.

"Fair enough." Roger turned to our pilot, the one I had to admit was better than me, Billy Spetz. "Your thoughts?"

"Up seems the way to go, but I'm with Mouse - I don't trust it."

"If I may," Oddball interrupted through the bridge speakers.

"....You may." It was good Roger gave permission, since I wasn't about to and Seig wasn't here.

"The correct choice seems to be relative up, given the current orientation of the craft. Such a course would burn less fuel overall, and any added risk is marginal."

Added risk? That twigged my memory - there was something there, some reason why Oddball had mentioned it and mentioned it that way. Probably something to do with the spin....

It was on the tip of my tongue! Or mind, I guess; I was probably using that phrase wrong.

"Your opinion is noted, Oddball. however, I'm going to go with the opinions of my chief engineer and pilot, as well as my own."

Billy plotted the course before he'd finished speaking, and I could feel the engines respond and the ship turn. We were doing more course changes in the last few months than we had in my memory; they were hardly a mundane occurrence.

Alright, I didn't have to stay here anymore. Roger hadn't exactly ordered me to stay. "No Mouse, stick around."

I tried counting; Mom had told me that was an excellent way to keep my temper in check.

It didn't work. "Damn it Roger, why? If something goes wrong we're screwed."

"You're good Mouse, but you're not that good. If something goes wrong, you won't be able to fix it in time anyway."

"You don't know that!"

"I know that if we go off course even a little bit, we get pulverized. So either the engines work as intended, or we get holed. So just sit down and wait it out with the rest of us."

Did he just not trust me or something? If I was going to sabotage us, I didn't need to do it now - I could just do it.

Whatever. He was within his rights to order me around while on shift, so I settled in and linked my pad to the piloting console so I could watch the slow crawl of the rocks that wasn't actually so slow, and plot them from here.

There was a sensor echo. A sensor echo was a double image, much like you would get from an object moving fast in one of those ancient photographs. In today's day and age, it was caused by something traveling at high speed, while not being symmetrical. Symmetrical meant shape, sure, but in this case, it also meant weight or density. The differences caused the sensors to return images microseconds apart, further distorting the image.

The rogue rock we were dodging not only wasn't the same size, it was a different density, in front or the part facing us and guiding the spin. The gravity generated would also be different caused by the spin and density, and the density would draw more crap than originally expected. But it also meant I was right.

"Rides about to get bumpy."

Roger looked over. "What do you know?"

"The rock is denser than we first thought, by almost twelve percent."

Roger caught on immediately, to his credit. "....Sewage."

"It's fine, stay the course. We can keep the rock in between much of it and us."

Billy nodded, already making the adjustments. I helped by positioning the ablative shields. Oddball made a nuisance of himself by double and triple checking our math, which was perfect.

The hits we took were noisy, but minor. Engineering took a hit that caused some damage to one of the power feed junctions; which meant lights out for at least one deck of the ship; the fourth deck in this case. That was Ronald's emergency station, and he checked it out.

A chirp from my pad revealed a rock circling the other at an elliptical, pulled between the planet and the moon. A quick glance and projections proved that if we had gone up and over, it would have hit us before we knew it was there. As it was, we were going to be burning a bit more to keep away from it.
"Billy."

"I see it."

I plotted the return course, and Billy took it from there, adjusting so that we missed it again and getting us back on track. And then we were clear.

"See? There was no need to worry; the shields took almost everything. The sensors are showing clear at our front, and the signal boosters survived, so I'm willing to call the sides clear too."

Clear was relative, of course. Some rocks and debris were too small to show up on the sensors as anything more than a cloud, in cases where it was bunched. But for this case, it was enough. "I'm leaving to assess and repair the damage, Captain."

Roger winced but said nothing. He knew I was clearly in the right here.

Oddball was already tasking the bot he'd given me to check the damage from EVA again, without even asking. That was all well and good; I tasked the thing to check the hull along my own line of march; I hadn't heard anyone chime in with hull breaches or other damage from their stations, and my own pad did not show any other potential breaches to the ship, so deck four was first.

I wasn't really liking how routine this was getting.

Deck four was dark, as expected; there were emergency lights and they would last about two hours under their own chemical power, but they didn't do much.

Also, replacing all those chemical cells was going to be an irritating day job.

I stopped outside the first pressure door and double checked. There were no new damage reports popping up, and both the ship and Oddball agreed the corridor beyond had full life support.

I should probably wait and check the hull first, just to be sure. Safety first, and all that. But the drone was just so slow. I leaned back against the wall, an ear against it while I piloted the drone to listen in on the noises of the ship. There weren't any changes in what I could hear so far, at least for this area.

"Mouse."

I answered the call; Ronald was the emergency responder for this deck; he'd have made it there first and done whatever needed to ensure we didn't explode. "Go ahead, Ron."

"There is a breach, but I couldn't find it, so I dumped a couple foam grenades in the shafts and I'm monitoring the pressure, which is stable. I'm just warning you it's going to be messy in there."

"Terrific. Thank you, really."

"Don't mention it! I'm going to just be a few sections down... got a sensor ghost that might be a fire in section fifteen."

What a liar. Oh well, nothing I hadn't dealt with before.

The pressure door was a little sticky, but I managed. There was a little transfer of air, just enough to stir my hair, but nothing major and it settled quickly. The power cut was actually in one of the junctions, so that meant doing what I did best; crawling around.

I pulled my little flashlight and set to finding it. The best my pad could determine was the break was seven meters down. But that could just be the last relay capable of reporting an all clear for its section of power cables. It was best to take it slow and careful. I set my pad to keep monitoring the bridge in case there was something new on that front.

As promised, it was messy; there had to be the remains of our fast acting grenades down here; I had to slide through feet of the thankfully rapidly settling and non-toxic garbage on my way to the problem.

The guts of the junction spread before me, and showed that I was right to be concerned; the wiring and more massive cables were both holed by something that had penetrated the hull and then broke up from the impacts, spreading the joy. The just about everything from this junction was holed and sparking, and would need either a major patch job or replaced. Ronald had done an amazing job with at least one foam grenade; it had hit at nearly ground zero, expanding and sealing all the holes; it was messy, but it gave us (or me) time to fix other things before welding the hull. Though in this case I might be better served by making another plate and replacing it.

Microscopic holes could kill us too. Then again, I had a drone tasked to me by Oddball. I could do the EVA work with it while I did this. I had time for either route, really; unless we had another impact here the foam would hold for around twenty hours.

The cabling and wiring of the ship was done in twenty foot sections and then set into junctions like the one I was staring at for this reason' a significant upfront cost in time effort and resources, it made field repairs during the life of the ship a snap; The main cables would all have to be replaced, but the minor wires could be re-braided by me right here, sprayed with insulator, and simply snapped back into place. I shut off both sides of the junction with my pad and got to work.

I was on my third wire when someone grabbed my boot.

"Hey Mouse, you clear?"

Well, it was nice that Eric didn't want to actually hurt me by pulling me if I was hung up on something. But I wasn't sure I wanted to be pulled.

"Hold on a minute, and I'll back out."

He didn't wait. "Hello, Mouse. Can we talk?"

I shrugged and handed him part of my fistful of wires. "Sure, but if we're talking, you're braiding."

He wasn't supposed to be here, in the dark unpowered possibly dangerous section with me; his emergency station was two decks up. At least he had his fire extinguisher with him, so he wasn't technically in dereliction of duty.

Eric shrugged right back and took the wiring; he looked a little nervous in the dim light. "That's fair."

We braided in silence for awhile before he spoke. "The cameras in this area are out, you know."

I nodded. It was pretty obvious they would be since I was currently re-braiding the power wiring for the camera network in my hands.

Another moment passed before he spoke.

"We can say anything, do anything here, and Oddball wouldn't know."

I nodded. A twinge, but I wasn't afraid of Eric; not really. If we fought, really fought, I'd win.

Eric glanced up and met my gaze. "Look, I'm not good at this sort of thing. I'm trying, okay?"

I nodded. Everyone deserved enough of a chance to space themselves, and Eric would have his.

Eric took a breath and shocked the hell out of me. "I admire you."

"....You what?"

He grinned crookedly. "Is it that shocking? You don't take shit from anyone, you don't let anyone control you; when someone pushes you, you push right back. And all of that with a delicate little body like yours. You've never let anything stop you; not even me."

He stopped ticking points on his fingers and leaned back with a sigh. "You'd have made an excellent Captain; much better than that weaseling scumbag Roger."

Well at least I could agree with him there, though that thought was promptly followed by one of Roger as chief engineer; he'd screw things up in a hurry.

"When you checked on our parents while pranking those who voted against you, that was real telling," Eric continued.He would know that much, had been one of those people. He looked down again, twisting the next wire in his hands. I'd probably have to check that one before reinstalling it. "It really showed who you were - your character. Ugh, I'm really not good at this."

I wasn't sure where this was going anymore, so I couldn't really help him out... but I felt for him.

Another moment passed while we worked in silence.
Eric spoke again. "Every time we played football, I aimed for you, you know."

"I know." It was pretty obvious; he couldn't have made his intent any clearer if he'd hung up banners and broadcast it over the intercoms.

Eric set down the wire he was working on, carefully. "Every time I went after you, it was to do this."

And then he lunged, almost but not quite knocking me over, and trapping my arms.

He wasn't attacking me though or slamming me around. He was... hugging me? A gentle cradle, his own hands wrapped around me but not roaming anywhere, his own face close to mine and his breath in my ear. He tightened a little and breathed in, and I tried a few experimental punches to his kidney.

He winced but smiled. "Not an inch. Peace, I'm not going to do anything else. But I needed to do that."

He released me and backed off, his hands up.

"What in the name of all of humanity was that, Eric?"

At least he had the dignity to look embarrassed. "That was a hug, Mouse. Something I've wanted to do for a long time."

"Eric, I was a guy not that long ago, and I'll be a guy again."

Eric stopped looking down again, meeting my gaze. "No you weren't Mouse, and regardless of what happens in the future, you won't be because you never were. You were always playing with the boys, but you never were one. I wasn't the only one that saw it, or sees it now. Just... when the time comes, and you make that choice... just consider me too."

"I think you should leave, Eric." How could he think I wasn't a boy, even growing up? Size didn't make a boy or man. Just what was going on here? What did I miss?

Eric gave his lopsided smile again. "Not a single inch. Alright Mouse, see you later." Were his eyes shimmering in the low light?

I stopped braiding as he went out of sight. He could still hear me. "Eric."

The footfalls away shuffled to a stop. "Yeah?" his response held something unidentifiable in it.

"What you just did took guts, man. Major bravery."

"...Thanks."

......

The crisis was averted, for now, the major damage already dealt with and life on the ship was due to return to normal at any moment now... but Eric was not at his post. A standard hourly sweep (something done during emergency situations like this one) revealed everyone present and accounted for but him, and I had a sneaking suspicion I knew right where he was.

There were only a few sections of the ship not covered in cameras and sensors, and fewer now since Mouse had shown us where a few were by hiding there (she refused to reveal the remainder, and given our suspicions of Oddball that was fair) and the last section that Eric had been spotted in.

And there he was, striding out of the darkened section of deck four with his fire extinguisher in hand. The front of his suit was covered in the remains of one of our adhesive foam grenades, which was a little unusual. His jaw tightened and his eyes started to burn when he saw me. He altered course to stop directly in front of me and ground out: "Don't."

And just what was this? Eric could be a little abrasive, but he wasn't usually this... belligerent.

"Don't what, Eric? Don't bother looking for a missing crew member?"

He sighed. "Don't go past that door. Look, we both know why you're really here. Mouse and I had things to discuss and I was more likely to find a fire here than on deck two. Just don't go past that door; I didn't hurt her or anything, but I gave her a lot to think about, and I'd rather she actually think about it then get interrupted."

Despite the tired look he gave me, he was flexing his arms; getting through that door wouldn't be an easy thing. Just what was going on here? "You'll forgive me if I don't take your word for it, given your past history with her."

Eric blew another breath. "That's fair. Call her instead; she had her pad on her."

Left unspoken was Eric's truly horrible skill at coding or hacking. There was no way he'd be able to fake a call on the fly - and it was pretty sad that I had to think something like that. I drew out my own pad.

"Mouse. Status on repairs?"

"I haven't even been working half an hour, Captain. The status is I need to rewire junction thirty-one twenty-seven and until I do power isn't getting to fifteen meters of this deck. Power is rerouted through thirty-one twenty-five and six until I get things back up. So far I haven't noticed any pressure loss, But I'm double checking with the drone Oddball lent me."

She was fine; she sounded fine. A totally normal tone of voice and totally normal sarcasm heaped on my new title. A little anger for the interruption.

"Alright, keep me posted."

"Will do... just as soon as I have something to post about."

I closed the call. I wanted to tell Eric to stop looking at me that way, but I knew how that would go over. "Come on Eric, let's go find deck two. It might burst into flames without you."

He rolled his eyes and his shoulders but fell into step.

The lack of pressure drop was a little worrying; anything that hit with enough force to shred a cable junction had to have left holes in the hull; even if it was something small and widespread, something with that much force should have depressurized this entire section. Ronald had gotten to it in time, clearly.

It was good for us that nothing of the sort happened, but a little worrying.

I checked on the status of the bridge and the plotted courses of the rogue planet, it's moon, and all the debris we could mark; there were no surprises there; I could afford to look further into things.

"Ron."

"Yes, Captain?" It was rather refreshing not to hear sarcasm or simmering hatred in a response. I decided not to dwell on it.

"Where are you now?"

"Deck four, section fifteen. Why?"

Well away from Mouse, in one of the still lit sections of deck four. Technically not a bad place to be, central to the deck for a rapid response to any more damage, and I hadn't called an all clear. I would have expected him to be helping Mouse though; had Eric scared him off?

I shot Eric a look and he shrugged, his face relaxed and open.

"I'd like to talk to you about the damage you saw."

"Alright, on my way."

I stopped to wait for him; Eric went on; I tracked him all the way back to his post.

The little drone Oddball had given me was due back; I watched it go. It would get re-purposed again, the weapons re-attached and the software I'd used to control it removed. It was with mixed feelings that I watched it go.

Well, not really. I was more pissed at what it implied, now that I had a spare moment to think on it. None of the other engineers had been offered a chance to control a security drone, and I hated being coddled.

I finished up and replaced the panel; the power junctions were now fully restored. Sure, the panels themselves needed replacing to ensure there was at least some armor in place against the vagaries of ship life, but the patch I'd smeared on them would hold for now. I added the panel numbers to my ever-growing list of minor fixes and grabbed my tools.

"Mouse, come in."

I tapped the message button on my pad. "Go ahead Brun."

"You were supposed to be asleep almost an hour ago."

Whoops. Time flies when you're dealing with one of the few things that makes sense in your life anymore.

"Alright, I'm done and heading to bed. Clock me out?"

"Done," Brun told me before ending the call. She seemed angry; probably thinking I didn't trust her. Well as far as engineering and repairs, I did, but getting lost in my work was something any engineer could do. Things were still too tense between us, not that I really cared.

I hefted my tools with a sigh; I wasn't about to waste time going all the way back to engineering to drop them off, especially after having someone else break protocol and clock me out. I'm sure Oddball already knew of the transgression, but I was more than up to the task of making sure captain "Call me Captain" Roger never found out. He was turning into quite the martinet.

I wasn't really sure what was going on there, but he was surpassing his mandate with regularity; one oddball was enough for this ship.

My lights came on as I opened my door, and I set the tools aside. At least they would be easy to find in the morning.

And of course, I was covered in dust, some ash, some grease, a few traces of fire retardant foam, and other things that might be even less savory. So a shower first then, and one using a liquid rather than just sonic energy. Which meant more time not sleeping, and I had a shift in the morning. That ever-growing list wasn't about to shorten itself.

By the time I was finished the shower itself was in need of a cleaning, but my clothes and I were mostly fine. The overalls would never really be clean, but that was okay; the clothes underneath were what counted, and they were pristine. Any stray grease had luckily came out. I hung them up carefully in the stall to dry and hit the button to dry everything off.

That done, I left them there; it was the safest place for them and I was tired. I made it to bed and decided to forego the safety netting; it was too much work.

......

We had done it. Successfully navigated the rogue planet and his much more dangerous friends, and used the gravity well to slingshot toward our destination with speed. We would be hitting our target galaxy years earlier, maybe even decades earlier.

And all I could think about was Mouse. She was the same old Mouse - or was she? She acted the same, mostly, same gruff nature, same competitive streak, same anger... and yet she hadn't knocked Eric into the next universe when he interrupted her work and she told me Oddball had made a pitch to her and then said little more. That would normally mean she was actually considering it, but that was crazy.

And to top it all off, I was Captain here; with this ship and crew as my direct responsibilities. Maybe even all that remained of humanity on my shoulders. Why couldn't I think of anyone or anything else? Fuel concerns, what Marion was up to or why Brun was so mad at the moment were valid concerns, yet I really didn't care. Just a thousand other things I couldn't be bothered with.

I wanted to make it stop, but didn't know how. Did I dare ask advice? If so, from who? No, that was stupid. I'd just have to work on it; surely I could focus correctly like I used to.

"Yo, boss."

There, that report was done... wait, Seig was here. "Yes, Seig?"

"Your shift is over, boss. You can give up the chair and get some sleep."

"You know..."

Seig cut me off with a nod. "All caught up. We need to watch for rocks on the back end, but we have them all mapped now, there shouldn't be any surprises. Go get some sleep."

He didn't have to tell me twice.

My pad chimed as soon as the bridge door closed. It was a text from Oddball. A request for a meeting, together with Mouse... for tomorrow. I clicked in the affirmative, more than a little curious. Neither Mouse nor I had called for the meeting; what reason did Oddball have for it? To pressure us?

No, no more worrying about it. Sleep was a good thing and something I needed.

It was also something I'd have to put off a little longer; Lissa was standing in front of my door alone, wringing her hands. "What is it, Lissa?"

She jumped at my voice, even though she'd seen me coming. "I found something a little odd, and I'd like a second opinion on it."

Well, I wasn't the chief botanist. "You need to talk to your friends, not me."

She shook her head in a hurry. "No, I know what it is... I need help figuring out what it means."

Sigh. "Alright, what is it?"

She touched a button on her pad, and my pad chimed. I managed to keep my feelings on how silly it was to send me something from a distance of three meters and looked.

It was a document; a file really, which contained the chemical composition of our plants we grew hydroponically for food. It was easy to spot the chemicals which didn't belong. Vitamin C for example was naturally occurring in the plants, but the report was showing almost ten times the normal amount. The reports after that was an analysis of the hydroponic solutions we used to grow the plants - they showed varying degrees of the chemicals used. The iron specifically was almost at the amount needed to kill every plant exposed to it. There was another here, a synthetic that I didn't recognize.

"Lissa, tell me."

"Yes?" she asked, almost stuttering over the word.

"Did the cameras show anyone tampering with the fluids, or the plants directly?"

"No, it was the first thing I checked. But all the crew have alibis, as best as I can tell."

Left unsaid was the fact that Lissa was not the best among us with computers, and being able to fool her with a hack was possible.

"Did you check our chemical stocks?" The chemicals used here had to have come from somewhere.

"They didn't come from Botany or any of the labs I checked," Lissa answered, picking at her clothes.

I was mildly impressed she checked into this that far. That also didn't discount everything, but it did mean Lissa had checked everywhere such substances were supposed to be kept.

"I think we need a second opinion, here," This was an active act of sabotage, and while I knew from a glance it wouldn't kill us, I couldn't figure out what it would do. "We need to talk to Brian or Rig." Brian was off shift right now, but Rig was the night shift chemist.

"In the morning," Lissa replied. "I set up a filter which will remove most of it, and Marion assured me we are in no danger - I just wanted you to know, and you've been so busy lately."

I held up my pad. "You could have called; I'd have responded." Just what was she trying to say here?

"Someone put stuff in our food supply, and it wasn't me!" She replied with some heat. "I wasn't sure what else they may have done, and wanted this conversation as off the record as I could get it."

Whatever. "Fine, if Marion knows and you've filtered for it, then I guess it can wait until morning. But in the morning I expect you to report bright and early and back me up when we go to see Brian. We'll meet up at the cafeteria; I'll want to talk to Marion too."

"Sure. I'll see you in the morning." Lissa sounded almost happy under all the paranoia.

Well, that was unfair; someone was clearly out to get us. But I couldn't figure out how; none of these were poisons unless concentrated in much higher amounts. And for all the elevated amounts in these reports, they fell well short of poisonous levels.

I finally got into my quarters without anything else coming up; safe at last. I disrobed and fed my uniform into the chute, and fell into bed.

Maybe this time I'd actually be able to sleep.

......

Morning came too soon. I stretched then slapped my alarm off (Why use a button when a full slap was more satisfying? Best modification ever.) and almost rolled straight into the netting before I remembered it was there. Off to a great start; at least I didn't need to shower this morning.

I checked the clothes in the stall, which were just as clean now as they were last night, and spent my normal shower time actually cleaning the stall and making sure the grease hadn't clogged it.

I really should have expected it when my pad chimed.

The call was from our fearless leader, of course, and I now regretted almost running to get to it; it clearly wasn't an emergency.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Mouse, what are you up to?"

"I was just about to make some breakfast." He knew my schedule almost as well as I did; what was he even up to?

"I'd like to pick your brain about a matter that's come to my attention, before the meeting."

Meeting? "What meeting? I'm not aware of any meeting."

The answer surprised me. "Oddball scheduled one."

So Oddball wanted an answer. I wasn't sure I had one to give him yet.

"Fine, I'm on my way." He meant now, and that meant no breakfast here. It also meant the cafeteria, because there was no way he'd want me to skip a meal; he was a bit of a baby like that.

Sure enough, he was there sitting down at a table near the door and picking at a bowl of something vaguely porridge-like. Claire and Marion were sitting on either side, their own bowls empty and water half drank. Not sharing the same table, but not far, Lissa sat nursing her own food alone.

And at the empty spot which was conveniently facing the door, a bowl of the sludge and a cup of tea. Actual tea, by the smell.

Whatever, a show of trust was in order, I guess. They would only spike my food once.

"So what's going on?" The tea was passable if a little weak. The porridge was porridge, just a little blander.

My pad chimed; Lissa had sent me something. No one spoke, so I gave the file a glance. I could see why they called me now, and why they waited; the timestamp on much of this file was yesterday.

"I didn't do it."

"We know."

Well, thank you, captain Traitor, for that vote of confidence.

"We followed your movements through security footage and your signal. We know you were nowhere near the hydroponics section, and only passed biology once on your way to deck four." Lissa helpfully explained.

I rescinded the thanks for a vote of confidence in my head; it wasn't needed. "So, should I be eating and drinking this?"

"It's safe enough," Marion told me. "I filtered as much of the additives out as I could, and what's left shouldn't cause any concerns. Especially if you lighten up on the vitamins for a while."

"Don't look at us like that," Lissa continued. "We had to rule you out first due to recent events. The real problem is that no one else was in hydroponics either except us, and only Brian was in biology."

I assumed Lissa meant her and her followers by 'us'. Still, that was curious.

"Well someone could have accessed hydroponics by the emergency systems." Like all the critical systems on board the ship, there were redundancies for botany. The emergency systems were designed to kick in automatically if the standard systems were cut somehow, providing water sunlight and nutrition to all the plants until engineering could fix whatever the problem was.

Had the damage from yesterday knocked out hydroponics somehow? The time stamps suggested otherwise, as some of this data was a week or more old at least.

"I think we need more info. None of this is overtly poisonous; in fact, it is all beneficial in the short term, as long as we don't allow too much build up."

"A second opinion, yes. We were going to go ask Dirk."

Oh. "That hack? You'd be better off asking Brian."

"Hey, Dirk isn't that bad."

Yeah shut up Marion, Dirk didn't have your manhood preserved in a jar on ice somewhere. "He's bad enough; he's a hack. I had to help him pass about half his tests."

Marion blew an exasperated breath. "Mouse, you helped just about everyone pass their tests at one point or another. That's hardly something to hold against him... unless you're holding it against all of us for some stupid reason?"

Oh, now she was messing with me. "That's not what I meant and you knew it."

"You do have problems seeing the good in certain people," Claire stated softly.

"I'm still angry at you Claire, and I dislike lazy people on principle."

Captain Traitor moved, looming over the table. "That's one of the many things we like bout you Mouse - your terribly judgemental hatred of those you consider lazy."

So that's how he wanted to be. How all three of them wanted to be, it seemed. "You're lucky I'm still eating, or I'd walk out right now and just go to my shift. This isn't even my job."

Captain traitor thought of it a moment, the fake smile wiped off his face. "You're right, I'm sorry. Please help us figure out what's going on?"

"Sure. In fact, I think I already have. I'm not sure of the why, but I think I know the who."

Roger actually looked surprised. "Who? And how did they get past the cameras?"

That wasn't going to be how this worked. I finished my tea. "I'll tell you when I'm sure. How about we go see Dirk and get his opinion on this?"

Roger didn't need to be told twice - he stood up and started striding out like he was in full command of the situation. Everyone else followed his lead, including me, so I guess he wasn't that far off.

I was beginning to suspect his control didn't extend as far as previously thought, however; how many decisions had he actually made of his own free will since getting the job?

It was wonderful... a rare occurrence: Dirk was in, and not asleep during his shift yet. I decided to record the moment for posterity.

He lunged up from his past time of precariously leaning his chair and resting his feet on a desk he never used and almost fell. To his credit, he recovered quickly.

"Uh-oh. Um, morning Captain, Mouse, Claire, Marion. To what do I owe this visit? Are any of you sick? I don't see any injuries."

Roger held out his pad. "We have a question. What would those chemicals and nutrients do at those concentrations to the human body?"

"Nothing in the short term, but I'm guessing you already knew that. Hmm...."

He made a show of thinking. My guess is a few slipped gears would come flying out of an ear. But he surprised me.

Snapping his fingers, he delivered his verdict. "I got it! Babies!"

He really surprised me.

He also surprised Roger and Lissa, who both deadpanned "What." in chorus. I was too busy thinking to waste time with that.

Dirk explained. "Babies. The chemicals here are nutrients, natural ones where we're from, things our bodies need to operate efficiently. We all know that much, but in this instance and at these amounts they would act as a natural fertility boost with few to no side effects."

I knew it. "Can they be used for anything else?"

Dirk turned to me. "Not in those concentrations, no. The dissipation of the nutrients into the plants has even been accounted for."

Sigh. "Well, turns out we need to talk to Oddball after all. He's clearly the culprit."

"But how?" Roger gasped out. "Oddball has no means to tamper with the food!"

"But he does. The emergency back up system, in case the primary and secondary systems fail. Oddball is patched directly into it, and can both monitor our food supply and alter the content of the nutrient baths. The question is how... how does he justify it? There has to be some loophole there somewhere, the charter has us clearly in control of our own food supply."

"I'll figure it out," Roger said. "You go ahead and get your second opinion. Talk to Brian. See if it could be anything else. The rest of you, back to your stations - and Marion continue filtering the food supply. Not a word about this to anyone else."

Wow, that almost sounded decisive. "Got it."

Whatever, I moved. Roger called out as the door opened: "Don't be late to the meeting, Mouse."

"I won't."

Brian didn't take long to find; he was working of course. It looked like a new acid compound, something that melted rock but not a suit, judging by the testing.

"Something I can do for you Mouse?" He hadn't even looked around.

"Yes, there is. I need you to take a look at my pad a moment and give me your impression on what you see."

Brian carefully put his compound down and carefully stripped off his gloves. "Well, that's cryptic," he told me.

"I can't help it," I told him back. "I don't want to color your perceptions."

He washed his hands first, something I was grateful for. "Alright, hand it here."

He eyed the screen for a second then looked up and half-joked: "So when does the aphrodisiac get entered in?"

I didn't get it. "A what?"

"An aphrodisiac. Something that increases a human's sex drive. Because this is for fertility, most likely. The aphrodisiac would be the second part."

I'd sooner gargle engine exhaust. "Let's go with never. You've officially been sworn to secrecy by the way."

Captain traitor hadn't told me to swear Brian in, but it was pretty obviously an oversight on his part. Brian gave a curt nod as if he expected it before asking the expected question.

"So who did this? It wasn't you, or you wouldn't be here."

"None of the crew actually, as far as we can tell." I left unsaid who that left out.

Brian was no slouch, he caught on immediately. "Oh... interesting."

"Not the word I'd use, but we can go with that."

"So, are steps being taken?" Brian's question took me by surprise. He almost sounded disapproving of any such special measures.

"Yes, we're filtering the food pending further notice."

"Well, that sounds stupid. The stuff we were being hit with is good for other things, and it could help us in other many other ways, like building up our bones before we hit a planet or improving our immune systems. Normally Oddball won't let us tamper with our food supply, citing some very real dangers - but with oddball doing it? I mean the only thing it'll do is increase fertility. Now if oddball actually adds an aphrodisiac, then we all have cause to worry, but the crew has to have babies sometime.

"We aren't ready yet at all," I countered. "And the standard procedure is to form families first. Get married, move in together, that sort of thing."

"But why?" Brian asked. "You ever wonder that? And how soon did our parents settle down? Our parents are all in their thirties or younger. How soon did they get together after generation one was frozen?"

I'd never really thought of it, actually. My parents hadn't talked much about it, except to stress how important a family was to maintain a proper human society, and proper ship morale. I knew they loved each other, and I knew they had married before I was born.

I guess I had some research to do. Later of course, in between all work I had and the meeting later.

Out loud I admitted my lack. "Honestly, no idea. I don't suppose you have one?"

"A little," he admitted. "My parents were silent about much of how they got together, probably because we were considered too young to know the gory details as kids, but I did little digging, and most of the marriages were recorded seven to eight months before the first child was born; very few marriages were over nine months old before a child was born. Incidentally, your parents were one of those older marriages."

That much I knew; I was the youngest, after all, with my conception happening a year after my parents got married. And my condition as an only child was one of a kind, and highly suspect. It could even be the start of all of this, not that I'd blame Mom for something she couldn't help.

I had no doubt Mom's issues would not be repeated, either. Not by any of us; steps would be taken. I also had no doubt those steps would be moral, at least within some framework of morality; there had been no euthanizing, and there would be no euthanizing.

There were some fates which could be worse than euthanasia, potentially.

Well, I needed to work the problem at hand. "Well I'll see what I can do about testing for any further contaminants, but until then if you have anything stashed away from prying eyes, you might want to test it."

Most of the crew had some spare stocks of food and water stored, either in their own kitchens or in an undisclosed location. At least, if I knew human nature at all. Even if a few extra weeks of food and water wouldn't really mean much if everything we had went bad. I had three myself, and my emergency plan called for us to freeze early and let the ship go fully automated as long as it could.

Leaving Oddball in charge wasn't ideal for us, but I was beginning to suspect more and more that he didn't need our help at all, and our careers were more a formality to keep us busy and out of his way. Before this morning, it never would have occurred to me that Oddball was allowed to tamper with our food supplies in this way.

"Will do Mouse, thanks. Any reason why we're keeping this quiet?"

"Captains orders - he didn't explain and I didn't ask. My guess is he's waiting to make the announcement."

It did make telling people to b wary of their food difficult; perhaps it was to avoid a panic? But that was silly; we didn't panic.

The alarm on my pad chimed. I snagged it out of Brian's mostly slack hand. "Sorry, that alarm means if I don't hurry I'll be late for a meeting."

"Good luck." No, Brian was not a dummy.

"Thanks."

"Thank you for coming," Oddball told us both.

"Thank you for having us," I spoke the formulaic response without thinking. Mindless trivialities weren't really my thing, but this one did force focus on me. The proper mindset to get anything done was not to scream obscenities, after all. Another person might be impressed, but not so much an artificial intelligence.

Besides, I'd already done the screaming thing. I was tempted to indulge for the benefit of Captain traitor beside me, but he already knew how I felt about this too. I did have some leverage I could use now, should Oddball continue to stonewall me. I had the feeling I would be.

"Refreshments?" Oddball asked.

There was no way, not during this. "No, thank you."

Oddball turned to Captain Traitor, who shook his head no.

"Alright. I have asked you here today to discuss a solution to the personnel problem which currently faces us."

A personnel problem, was it? "By all means, go ahead and lay out your solution."

"My solution is a compromise between our views. You continue with your role in the breeding program, Chief engineer Zamir. After which I will reverse the operation which caused you such distress, should you still desire it."

Oddball was insane. "You want me to get pregnant and carry a child to term."

"Or two, for best results of the program, correct," Oddball answered as if he were discussing upcoming solar storms.

"And who would raise this kid? I go back to normal, that ruins our traditional family unit."

"You and your husband would, of course. If a female role model is required for correct socialization, one can be assigned."

This was beyond surreal. "I think I can choose my own role models, thanks."

Oddball drew back, arms out. "Of course."

"Do you actually have them? My balls in a jar?"

Oddball nodded. "Your testes have been cryogenically frozen in the event they were needed. reattachment would be a simple matter."

My mind screamed out at the lack of sense it all made. If the entire point was for humans to make children using the easiest, low tech, least expensive methods, then all of this was a waste, so-called emergency or not. I mean genetically having kids was one thing, but why was it necessary physically?

"And reductions elsewhere, hormones, and the other things?"

Oddball nodded. "You would be sterile, but everything would function as before once the operations were finished."

So no having kids as a guy. To be honest, I remembered my own childhood, and just the one Oddball was demanding would be more than enough. Not to mention the cheating aspect. Maybe I'd want to, but I didn't see it right now.

Captain traitor had been silent a long time. Probably pondering the idea of cryo-balls. But now he spoke up: "And who does Mouse need to marry for this? You have someone in mind, don't you."

"I do, of course," Oddball admitted. "That is why you are present for this meeting."

Wait, Oddball got to choose who I married? Oddball was playing match maker? But then why was Roger here?

Oh, no. No no no no. A thousand times, no.

"You mean...."

"For best results, Captain Smitt and Chief engineer Zamir should marry each other, yes. Of all the crew, they are most compatible with each other. However, if you do not like that choice chief engineer Zamir, I have prepared a list of compatible candidates, which I will send to your pad. You are free to choose your own candidate of course, but your husband must agree to both the marriage and the compromise set forth. Otherwise, the arrangement may lead to more personnel problems."

Sure enough, my pad pinged with a message.

This was a lot to take in. "Can I take some time to think about it?"

Oddball raised up, his hands wide again. A disarming gesture? Something meant to be like a shrug? "Of course. You may confer with me any time, by pad or in person, with your decision. I've nothing further to discuss. Is there a matter you would like to bring to my attention?"

Oh, he knew. Of course, he knew I knew, but he knew I wanted to bring it up; that I wasn't going to let it slide in light of other manipulations. Which I might have done in the past before Oddball decided to chop me up.

"Yes, I have an issue. Why are you putting additives in our food and water supplies?"

"All members of the crew are required to procreate to preserve humanity. My goals include keeping the crew at optimum health to facilitate such procreation. As you are now considered adults, the additives in your supplies, both food and otherwise, are meant to keep you in peak health and make procreation and births as easy as possible. If you have any questions, you may consult the Magellan's charter, pages thirty-seven and thirty-eight, starting at paragraph two."

I was aware of the passages Oddball was quoting. "Those passages don't mention anything about drugs or mineral supplements in our food. or water."

Oddball leaned in, his hands working. "They state specifically that I am allowed to use any means which are not harmful to the crew to ensure procreation as a mission objective."

Yeah, that bird has flown. "A little late there."

Oddball leaned back. "The case involving you, Chief engineer Zamir, was an emergency and thus fell under different clauses."

He stated that I was already aware of that by not stating it, loud and clear.

"So wait, what you two are saying is the additives are Oddballs idea, and that they are being used to get us in the mood?"

Roger, ladies, and gentlemen, finally catching up to the conversation. Why was he 'compatible', anyway?

"Yes Roger, they promote general health, and the healthier we are the more inclined we'll be to... procreate. It's science, of a sort. Leads to a healthier sex drive. And once the women get pregnant, it will encourage the proper growth of the fetus. Calcium supplements will still need to happen, but that's mostly aftercare."

Roger nodded slowly. "Right, I can see that, I guess."

Oddball nodded. "It's all simple biology."

I barely kept my myself from an outburst. There were other things that were simple biology too, and he felt no hesitation at all at screwing all that up. "Are you monitoring our intake, or are we responsible for that?"

Well, of course, I am monitoring your intake," Oddball said, this time clearly surprised. "The health and safety of the crew are one of my responsibilities, even if not mine alone. No one shall receive a harmful dose of any vitamin or mineral I am responsible for."

"Without any prior knowledge of your actions, one of us could have taken a supplement and overdosed." I knew for a fact several of the crew did when we had extra available.

"Already factored into my calculations," Oddball said, so smug I could almost taste it past the heavy metals I'd unknowingly ingested.

"If there are no other concerns from either of you?" A clear dismissal there.

"No, I'm fine for now." I turned to Roger.

Roger shrugged. "None from me; you have explained your reasoning well enough."

"Please do let me know of your decisions then. I must return to oversight of the Magellan's automated functions. Have a good morning."

And with that parting shot Oddball sucked himself back into his locker or cubby or indentation or whatever it was, and the door opened.

I wasted no time getting out, and Roger almost ran me over. We both pretended Oddball had stopped listening. He was supposed to, but I wouldn't put water rations on it, and from the look on Roger's face neither would he.

"Well, that was... something." He said, blowing a breath.

"Yeah, it was," I agreed. Best to dive right in. "What do you think?"

Roger stopped. "Well I think it's still not fair to you, but it's better than it was."

The gall of the man.

"It's a way out. What do you think of the list?"

Roger suddenly got very interested in the scuff mark on his right boot. "Well, I'm willing to go along with it if you are."

The sheer gall!

"As if. Go do your job Captain, I need to do mine."

"Mouse...!"

"Later, Captain."

The list was short... of course, since there were only twenty-five males (only for now, I would be again) in the crew. Siegfried was on it, and Eric. The names rapidly got worse from there. Guido? Dirk? Not like the idea of letting any man touch me was a good one, but those three? I mean Sieg was at least a decent guy, he might say yes...

But did I really want to go through with this? the idea of letting a man do.. that to me nauseated me. I was supposed to be the one doing that to women, not be on the receiving end. But the alternative was to stage a mutiny, find a way to shut off Oddball that would stick and risk us all. Or, stay female forever and still be expected to have a child or children.

It really was the same trap as before, the same cage, only with a door opened this time. Do my time and get out, or risk our entire colony and possibly all that was left of humanity and Earth on my genitals. I had to admit, genitals were closer to winning than it probably should be - but in reality, I'd already made that choice before, when I hadn't sabotaged the ship or killed us all.

So, who did I want to spend the next year or even two years of my life with? And who would be okay with that, knowing I'd be a man again eventually? It wasn't like there were a lot of options for sex, we took the family dynamic very seriously. Who could I trust to say yes to that and not try to back out later? I suppose if they gave their word, Oddball would force them to keep it, but hard feelings would still happen; I mean, it did for me.

I didn't have to decide now - but it felt like I did. But I needed to get my head in the moment; those air scrubbers on deck four wouldn't replace themselves, and after the hit the ship took, they probably needed it; better to do it before they failed.

Marion fell into step beside me as I passed the cafeteria. "So, how did it go?"

"Good I guess. Seems like Oddball thought up a way both of us can get what we want out of this mess. All I have to do is have kids, and he will reverse the surgery."

Marion stopped cold, then caught up. "That's... wow. So he wants you to do the whole thing, then he will undo it? won't that destabilize the family dynamic?"

"Yep! Shouldn't you be minding the kitchen? Someone might run off with the food."

"No one is going to dare touch the supplies. Not now, anyway. Which reminds me, what about our food problem?"

I turned, giving her my best smile. "all supplements in measured doses designed to keep us all healthy as we breed."

Marion blinked. "Sounds less romantic when you put it that way. We aren't mindless, we don't need the help."

It did indeed. "Oddball's words, not mine. And like it or not, we're getting it. He quoted the charter to me over it, one of those nice vague clauses the earlier generations wrote in to screw us."

"I really hate those clauses!" Marion exclaimed.

I stopped. "A little too much, there. I can hear the insincerity."

"I thought I might be overselling it. Sorry, I think the previous generations probably thought of something like this and wrote it that way on purpose. It's bad luck for us, but in the panic about the species surviving, I can see it."

"Yeah." Left unsaid was the other clause that came into effect. It might also have been a legitimate mistake or a happy accident. Not that blaming people long dead was in any way helpful - or healthy.

Enough of that; that way of thinking led down dark paths. I never needed to be so introspective before. I guess funny things happen when the people you trust conspire against you.

"Any further and you're going to be helping me collect my tools."

"Yeah, you're right," Marion said, stopping. "I better get back. Let me know what you decide, alright?"

"You'll be one of the first to know." I mean obviously, she couldn't be first, because my husband (still not used to that word applying to me) would have to agree.

Marion seemed to get it. "I better be. Call me when you decide, alright?"

"Sure." Whatever, it was annoying, but I'd do it.

Brun was waiting for me in the changing room, back against the bulkhead in a show of nonchalance. "So, how did it go?"

Was I going to have to do this for everyone? "Aren't you supposed to be asleep right now?"

"I am, but it didn't feel right to leave engineering unmanned."

She had me there. "Well, I've been given a choice. I can go back to being a man again, if I have kids first, basically."

Brun's eyes got wide. "So, you have to get married and everything?"

I nodded. "Yep, Oddball wants no deviation on that. Get married, have at least one kid."

"With someone else picking up the slack there," Brun mused. then she asked the question Marion failed to: "Who to? someone specific, right?"

I nodded again. "He was kind enough to send me a short list. And the person I chose would have to agree to let me have the surgery to reverse all this."

Brun's eyes got even wider. "Wow, that's... going to take some doing, I think."

"Tell me all about it. But tell me about it after you sleep, since you've already been up an hour longer than you should have."

Brun levered herself up with a sigh. "Right, I'm gone. just one more thing. My brother, is he on that short list?"

Brun was Eric's sister. "He's second on it. How did you guess that?"

"It wasn't really a guess - or at least, not completely a guess. Still, I bet you blew him off, right? He said something stupid, and you told him to get lost?"

She knew her brother well. "Yes, he did. Why?"

"Just don't cross him off yet; if anyone would agree to let you return to normal, it would be him."

And with that, she was gone, confident in her size and long stride to let her get the last word in. I let her keep it. Mainly because she wasn't wrong; even if Roger voted against me that night, now he would back me as much as he could; I felt sure of it.

Would anyone else?

I got suited up, grabbed my tools and my spare scrubbers, and headed back down to deck four.

Replacing air scrubbers was an easy job, as long as you had the boots for it. You simply pulled the old one out and slotted the new one. I'd just done the job earlier this year, and deck four wouldn't even need it except space rock had punctured the hull... leaving all kinds of particulates behind; at least, potentially. I wasn't going to take the chance of a rock or dust or the fire damaging one and having it fail later when we needed it.

My pad chimed just as I reached the halfway point in my journey. It was Claire.

"Is it true?" She had asked.

I rolled my eyes; of course, Marion had talked. Probably the entire ship knew by now. Still, perhaps playing dumb was best.

So I sent back "Is what true?"

"The marriage thing. The balls thing." She sent back.

I didn't see any reason to deny it. "Both true."

She sent back one word. "Congratulations."

I wasn't so sure congratulations were in order, but I guess it was kind of a victory. It was kind of insulting that she just thought I'd roll over and take the deal - even if I was contemplating exactly that.

I received three more messages before I reached deck four. what was Marion doing, just going down the list? I ignored them; they weren't priority flagged so they were just people too curious for both their and my own good. The wonders of a small ship, I supposed; I was once again top news. I hated it just as much this time around.

Maybe I could set a keyword related automatic response, and that would end the distraction. I couldn't really just leave my pad behind, I might need it for something important.

I had just gotten settled in to fix my first scrubber when someone called into the vents: "Mouse, you there?"

It was a bit distorted from distance and echo, so all I could tell was whoever wanted me was male.

I might end up leading a mutiny after all. "Yes, hold one and I'll be right out."

It was Eric, of all people. "Don't you have a job to be at?"

He shrugged and displayed his teeth for me. "No, not really. You going to rat me out, Mouse?"

Oh, he was so proud of that one, I could tell. "Maybe. If Oddball or the bridge hasn't already logged it. Why are you here?"

"Why else? I heard something interesting through the grapevine, and came to the source to confirm it."

I grabbed another scrubber and started for the next conduit. "Probably all true. Oddball offered a compromise of sorts. I still haven't decided if I'll accept."

"Well, if you decide on a mutiny, I'm with you; I don't like Oddball."

I could believe it. Then Eric just had to continue.

"But out of curiosity, who was on that list the dumb computer sent you?"

I just had to stop, turn and stare him down. "Yes Eric, you were on the list."

He pumped his fist. "Good, not out of it yet. If you decide to go along with this weird deal. I don't see how it's even an option, really. Just the idea of marrying another guy...."

I had to stop him there before he got the wrong idea. "Trust me, I feel the same way. And let's be honest, anyone marrying me is marrying another guy."

He gave me a look. "Really? Hate to break it to you, but you've never been that guy like, Mouse. And right now you are not a guy. You can become one again, but for now? Nope, and that's the only way to see it. I'm not the only one who thinks so, go ahead and ask around if you don't believe me."

I turned away and kept my hands locked.

He noticed. "Look, that came out wrong; I didn't mean to insult you, I was just stating facts, and I wanted to say that if I was on your list, well, I'd back your play, alright? You have my kids, and I won't object to anything you want to do."

My mind locked on the first part of that I could bore into. "Kids, huh?"

"However many are needed," Eric affirmed. "The normal requirement is two."

"I've been told one is enough." Let's see what he does with that.

He didn't even hesitate. "Great, one is fine with me. Whatever the deal is, I'll be fine with it - so at least consider me, please? I'll do right by you."

I couldn't lie to him, but I couldn't lead him on either. "I'm considering everyone on the list. Even Dirk."

That got a blink. "Dirk? That guy? How does a guy like that get a shot?"

I shrugged. "Oddball's criteria, not mine. I've got no idea how he thinks."

"Yeah, I can see that. Probably some genetics thing. But still, Dirk."

I lunged into the next vent. "I know. Dirk's not as annoying as some people, but still. Anyway, you better get back to your station before you're noticed. Captain traitor will have you up on charges."

"Heh. Captain traitor - I like that. Alright Mouse, I'll see you later. Just remember what I said, alright?"

I heard regret... melancholy? I turned and caught a glimpse of an expression I couldn't read as he passed out of sight. Whatever, he was probably just staring at me as I crawled into the vent. I wouldn't put it past him. For all I know it could have been something he ate; giving a guy that large more additives seemed counterproductive anyway. What was the point of making him bigger?

Enough of that, time to work.

......

I headed to the bridge, my mind a million light-years away. Something about the way I'd said it had set Mouse off, but I was just trying to be sincere.

I was trying to tell her that I'd do right by her; that I'd at least make up for my earlier bad choice.

Maybe it was how unsure I'd sounded, for a moment there. It wasn't very leader-like and maybe I'd made her think I wasn't really interested? But that was silly; She was my best friend, even if she hated my guts at the moment. You don't just turn a friendship like that off like flicking a power switch; it would be easier if you could. Well, at least i couldn't; I had no idea how Mouse felt, other than angry.

I was tempted to stop by one of the viewing rooms and watch the stars a little. But I was already late, and if I wanted I could do that on the bridge. The view was boring anyway; it never seemed to change. But it was soothing, knowing the stars were out there. Somewhere out there were the aliens who had helped Earth; we hadn't seen them at all. I wonder why that is... surely they know where we are, or at least have some idea.

Jennifer's message to me as I hit the bridge summed it up: "You're an idiot, little brother."

My response was for her to tell me something I didn't know, of course. Like how exactly I had messed everything up in my show of support.

The bridge was silent except for the little boops and beeps and whirring background noises the place made when active. Everyone was looking at me - all four of the normal day crew, plus Seig.

"What?"

"Nothing," Seig said. "All quiet here, nothing to report. How did the meeting go?"

Of course, that was what they were staring for. "Well, we got a possible resolution to Mouse's problem, but the final decision is up to her. We"ll know soon enough."

Seig wasn't about to let it alone. "What kind of solution?"

"Not my place to say."

Seig gave me a look as if to say 'you can't be that stupid', but it really wasn't my place. "Alright boss. I'm going to go sleep; see you tonight."

"Wait a minute Seig. Join me a minute." I guess it couldn't hurt to tell Seig, after all, it did affect him - his name was on the list.

I didn't bother sitting, this would be quick. Seig followed me in and shut the door.

"As part of her deal, Mouse has a list of people to marry. She marries, has a child, and Oddball will undo the surgery."

"Damn, that's...." Seig interrupted.

"And I'm telling you because your name is on the list. If Mouse decides to go through with it, she may come to you, and if she does you'll need to agree to let her go back under the knife once her time is up as part of the deal."

Seig's eyes grew wide and he sputtered a bit before finding his voice. "That entire deal is kind of crazy, boss."

"Tell me about it."

"Is your name on the list too?" Seig asked.

"Yeah, it is."

"What do you think of it?"

"I think Mouse is getting a raw deal again. But it's a better arrangement than before." I didn't think anyone could disagree with that.

"If Mouse says no, you'll support her turning Oddball off, won't you? Us taking our chances?"

That was a loaded question - the type to remind me that Seig wasn't as uncaring as he pretended.

My voice came out strong; more sure than I felt as I replied. "Yes, I will. Oddball shouldn't be making decisions like that."

I couldn't say I was happy about foisting such decisions like who gets screwed over onto the crew either, but I did see the logic in having us used to making snap judgments for the good of us all, so I left that part unsaid. The choice itself was stupid, however; optimal or not, having one of the girls have one more kid was a better prospect than spending all the resources we did, with the blow to morale we had as a payoff for it.

Seig searched my eyes a moment and nodded firmly. "Can't say I'm happy about that idea, but I do understand it. Next time Oddball could be thinking one of us isn't useful, and we'd be voting on who to space."

I was pretty sure the charter and Oddball's programming prevented that, but anything short of that I'd not bet my food ration on. It was enough to get Seig's point across at least.

Seig left with a muttered "bye, good luck" while I was still pondering what to bet on. Good luck with what, I didn't know. Probably surviving Mouse's wrath, again. Not to mention my sister's.

I joined my day crew back on the bridge to add my eyes to those on the lookout for more space rocks. The danger looked to be past, but there could always be more; it was crazy really, we should always be this aware, but this was the first time we watched our screens like those proverbial sighted birds, the hawks.

An hour into this, just as I was getting a bit bored, a call came for me.

"Captain, can you come to hydroponics for a bit?"

Oops, in all the excitement I forgot to tell Lissa about what was going on with the food. But that didn't really warrant a personal visit. "Do you have a problem?"

"I do, actually. It's rather important."

I could hear her concern through the small speaker in my pad. I looked at the bridge crew. "Billy, you're in charge."

"You got it, boss; just leave it to me," she said. "When it rains, it pours, huh?"

Odd expression, considering it was one of the few things we knew about rain. Only ever seen it on video.

"Yes indeed. Try not to hit anything until I get back."

She laughed as the door shut behind me, a joy-filled sound. being female seemed to agree with her. Why couldn't Mouse be that way?

Why was I bitter that Mouse wasn't that way, that she wasn't happy? What did that say about me? Did I really want to know? Considering how the situation made her feel, could I make her happy, if she came to me? Would she even want me to try?

That was silly, of course, she'd want to be happy, right? No one liked being depressed or angry all the time.

It was stupid to think about, really. Mouse would pick me last, if at all. She could hold a grudge forever.

Lissa was waiting for me at the door. "Alright, what's going on?"

She pointed to her pad, set up in the center of a table. On it, Eric was front and center, talking to Mouse. From the looks of it, he was on deck four, which wasn't his assigned post, interfering with repairs. "Why that...."

I was startled out of my invective when soft lips crushed themselves against mine; Lissa all but knocked me over, pressing against me.

Her lips tasted faintly of berries.

I stiffened and she let go, her deep blue eyes boring into me. That look told me I'd disappointed someone else.

"What...?"

She sighed. "Eric made his play - and I just made mine. Looks like we both lose."

What? "Lose? What are you even talking about, other than trying to dock?"

I wanted to say unwarranted advances or assault, but I didn't want to make this worse. Whatever this was, she was already sad enough.

Lissa produced a bottle of something clear but smelled like fuel - right in front of me, while on duty no less - and gulped a good amount of it down before I could wrest it away.

"You're on duty."

She waved me off. "It's fine, it's fine. the plants can take care of themselves, and if they can't, well Milla and Carla have them under control."

Lissa pulled up a portable chair and sank into it. "Did you know the only time our food supplies were ever in danger was when I took my first shift in hydroponics? I was ten at the time and made a perfectly innocent mistake with the water feeds. Mouse came along and chewed me out for it, and reset them for me. I hated her ever since. Absolutely loathed her."

What?

"She was too smart, too good, too beautiful, too perfect. Even as a boy. She was everything I had to work at being, and it was so effortless for her. When Oddball tapped her to become one of us, I didn't vote for her because I knew this day would come."

This was... resentment, bitterness, and jealousy. The kind of feelings that festered among a crew and affected performance. So why had Lissa not taken advantage when she could?

"What day?"

"The day when I lost you to her," she replied, piercing me again with her gaze. "It was already bad enough when she was a he, you two were inseparable.Best buddies, the greatest of friends, only apart to sleep, and sometimes not even then; how was I supposed to compete with that? I knew if Mouse joined us, I'd simply have no chance at all.

She made a clumsy grab at the booze; I held it up, out of reach. she sighed, slumped back in the chair, and continued. Her eyes glistened in the light.

"But I can't actually hate her. Mouse is egotistical, barely social, and unsufferably competent. She used to hold all my mistakes against me. But it was all for good reason, and she is...genuine. The type of human we should all be. The only thing I have on her is size. She didn't even try to steal you away, you know? She was just herself."

It took a moment to find my voice; my throat was clenched tight. "Yeah, I know."

Lissa snorted a messy laugh, her nose running. "It's a bunch of fertilizer, you know? I don't even have the words. I'm not bad, either, I'm just not her."

I handed her my handkerchief. "I know. I feel the same way, from time to time."

She took the cloth and honked into it. "Thanks.You know what she told me? The nicest thing she ever said to me was when I beat her at tennis: 'nice game, I'll beat you next week.' And she will, too, I don't doubt it. Maybe it's just current events, how the crew and Oddball screwed her over, but I can't even hate her."

She honked again, then tried to hand the handkerchief back. I waved her off. "Keep it. I have a few extra."

She sniffled. "That's so like you, Roger."

I wasn't sure what to say to that. "I appreciate you telling me this, but I'm still not sure what you mean by it all."

Lissa burbled another messy laugh. "Come on, you're kidding, right?"

I shook my head.

"Men, I swear. Look, I kissed you as a test. I could tell, your mind was a million light-years away; you felt nothing, and you didn't return it. You're a gentleman Roger, but the only reason you wouldn't try to take advantage is if you were already spoken for. The mind may not know yet, but the heart wants what it wants. And Mouse, damn her, feels the same way. She had you all staked out and didn't even know what she was doing. Call it destiny or whatever you want - but can you really see yourself with anyone else?"

I tried. I really did try. "For the good of the colony...."

"That's crap and you know it," Lissa countered. "You can't.see anyone but Mouse. Not Marion, Not Claire, not even Carla or Billy. She stole you from us, and if it wasn't for the true horror of Oddball doing it, I'd hate her forever. Most of us would."

She held out her hand for the bottle. "But that's neither here nor there. You don't need to worry, Mouse will come to you soon enough. Tonight or maybe tomorrow at the latest. And when she does, you'll accept."

I gave her the bottle back; she took it gratefully. "Go ahead, but Milla is in charge for the day, alright?"

She gave me a sloppy salute. "Already did that. I'm going to miss our workout period as well; I don't feel much like exercising right now."

I could see that. "I imagine not."

She waved me off and downed a good portion of the rest of her stash. "Go on, I'll be fine. See you around."

Her dismissal held a note of finality to it - and buried hurt.

"Yes, I'll see you tomorrow." I doubted I'd be seeing her at lunch either.

The door shut behind me, and I heard the lock engage. I made my way back up to the bridge, and to my own stash.

......

I didn't feel like running around while getting stared at and whispered about, so exercise period was skipped. I sent a message to Oddball about it and he gave me a pass, so long as I showed up tomorrow. Keeping muscles toned and bones strong wasn't something you could skimp on, even with more than normal supplements.

Instead, I just worked through it, replacing filters and checking scrubbers. Exercise enough, really, and with less of an audience.

I couldn't ignore lunch, however, no matter how much I may have wanted to.

The cafeteria was packed, and silent the moment I stepped foot near the door. Every head was turned my way as I cursed my lack of cooking ability.

"Marion, one of those noodle things, please."

"Sure thing, Mouse." Marion set to work while I got descended upon.

Claire was the first to reach me, and she hesitated, wringing her hands.

"What is it, Claire?"

With that prompt, she blurted out in a hurry: "Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"That you... have to marry?"

Well, that escalated quickly. "I don't have to marry, it's a choice. A choice I'm not sure I'm making."

She gave me a once-over, clearly wondering how I had some kind of choice now. The rest of the crew didn't. "A choice how?"

I was already sick of explaining it. "I do the normal thing for a female of the crew, marry up and have children, and Oddball allows the surgery to make me male again. Or I don't and try... alternatives."

Oddball had many cameras and microphones in the cafeteria, it was best not to forget that.

Claire's eyes widened briefly, which was odd considering she already knew at least a little of our plan B.

"Sorry, guess I just wasn't thinking ahead that far. The idea of you with kids is...."

"Yeah tell me about it. But it's duty after all, and one we all share," I just wasn't really looking forward to it, especially with all the body problems I'd be facing on this side of the fence. "Speaking of, Marion I got an answer from Oddball on the food additive thing."

"Food additive thing?" Claire asked.

"There are additives in our food right now. Nothing dangerous, but we were trying to figure out how they got there." Marion informed her.

Claire's eyes widened again. "What? but...."

I waved her off. "It's solved. Oddball did it, in order to ease the crew into its new duties. Specifically the ones regarding childbirth. He wants us all to be in peak physical condition."

"Yeah for when we're laying on our backs doing nothing but eating and watching our stomachs expand," Claire said sourly.

I shrugged. "It's something that has to happen."

Claire sighed. "I know, but I didn't think it'd happen so soon. I thought we'd have at least another year, at least. You know, settle in, do our thing, then settle down."

My mom and Dad had me last of all the current crew, and they were still young enough for more. "I know, but the sooner the better. At least for the colony we'll all be making."

That was the whole point behind the cryo in the first place; my grandparents were still in their thirties at least according to telomere aging, and my parents were just shy of that. our population would all be viable; there would be no retirement at the colony for some time. And my children would probably be as old as me when we thawed. If the trip took that long, my grandkids would be too.

It was doubtful though, we were on pace to have our kids settle the planet that was to be our new home and thaw us out.

Marion left while Claire picked at her food. I noticed a few people leaning our direction; including some friends of mine.

They weren't being all that subtle. "Seth, Joe, what's up? Do you need something?"

"Nah," Seth denied. "I was just wondering about the rest of it. Rumor is you have a small list of guys you can marry, as part of that deal."

"That's true. And before you ask, no, neither you or Joe are on it."

"Ouch," Seth exclaimed loudly, clutching his chest. "You wound me, Mouse. Are you saying I'm not good enough?"

Really? Why had I liked Seth again? "No, I'm not saying anything. Oddball is."

"She's got you there," Joe told his friend, a small smile on his face.

"So who is? On the list, I mean."

I could feel the collective people in the room's attention; the collective inhale as they all took a breath and leaned in closer to listen.

"Five guys are on the list, that's who. five guys who have to agree that I go back to being a guy myself at the end of things."

I heard the onrush of breath, the collective exhale, so I didn't just imagine it before. Seth's face fell a bit. "Yeah? Oddball said it would approve another surgery?"

I nodded. "After children. And yes, that could mean abstinence for me and whoever I pick. Still want to be on the list?"

Joe backtracked for both of them. "He never said he wanted to be on the list... just asked you who was on it. If you don't want to answer, just say so."

Fair enough. "It's private and I don't want to answer."

"Okay. Did Oddball give you a timeframe to answer?"

"Nah, I can take as long as I need, theoretically." People were going to pair up quick, now that all the recent excitement was over, I had no doubt. Some of the stuff Oddball was pushing us to take in our supplies would increase sex drives. If any of my five paired up, that naturally made my choices fewer.

Whatever, I only needed one. Just one guy who would wait for me and Eric had already volunteered if it came to that.

"Here you go Mouse, your noodle stuff."

I dug in, to the envy of those around me. Screw them anyway; maybe I'd share later, maybe I wouldn't.

Hm, there were a few people missing lunch - or maybe they were eating in their quarters or something. Speaking of Eric, he wasn't here, and neither was Lissa. Carla wasn't here.

Roger wasn't here. Probably too busy up on the bridge; it would be just like him to forget the time.

"Slow down Mouse, jeez!"

I didn't want to be here, getting stared at. "Those scrubbers on four aren't going to fix themselves, Claire."

"You're going to choke," She told me.

I slowed down just a bit.

"Alright, so why are you being so nice to me!?!" Claire blurted suddenly.

So that was what was really bothering her. "What good would treating you badly do? No, I haven't actually forgotten, and no I haven't actually forgiven. But we have to be a crew, which means we have to work together. So I can at least be civil, the same as I will be for everyone else."

I finished up, drank my water, and got out of there while Claire stared at me, her mouth open.

Oddball had been very smart. By offering an alternative, he had split the crew; there were at least a few of us now to which an open mutiny no longer appealed. Not so long as I had an alternative, no matter how distasteful it was. I was only one person, after all, and not even that well liked; people would weigh that against the survival of our species just like they had on day one. The preferential food and clothes might even have been a part of that too. Offering me a choice was brilliant - and it put the entire thing on me. If I decided to mutiny, well then I was the one being bad, not Oddball. I might only have support from as little as half the crew now at most.

If I hadn't told people myself, no doubt he would have let slip the details as a way to stop his own disabling.

Whatever, I had scrubbers to fix.

She was running out; her bottle full of nothing but little drops now, and the room was spinning with more than just the help from artificial gravity ship rotation. When the door chimed she tried to get up and failed.

The door chimed again. "It's open, you idiot!"

Eric came in, hitting the door control as soon as his bulk was across the threshold. He had her salvation in his other hand. "I wanted to make sure I had the right store room. How are you doing, Lissa?"

Lissa snorted. "Rejected. He didn't even realize. You?"

Eric smiled a sad smile. "She might have considered me for all of two seconds; at least she had the grace not to lie to me, or try to let me down easy. Those two only have eyes for each other."

Lissa finally succeeded in grasping the right bottle; Eric let it go and she hoisted it. "To being alone."

He waited until she drank and passed the bottle before echoing the sentiment. "To being alone."

After he drank he shook the bottle experimentally. "You know, we're going to need more than this. You should have told me. Was this why you messaged me? To be your booze gopher?"

"And if it was?" Lissa asked.

Eric shrugged. "I didn't really feel like doing anything else, and Oddball can do my work in its sleep."

"Well it wasn't." Lissa assured him. "We're here and alone. But what if we're alone... together?"

Eric took a pull from the bottle and passed it over. "I'm listening."

Lissa drank. "It doesn't have to be about love. But you and I, we're two of a kind really. We're both kinda jerks, and we could get along. According to our psych profiles at least. It doesn't cost us anything to try and make it work, at least."

"And if Roger and Mouse break up...."

Lissa's face blanked. "I wouldn't count on that. But if it happens we can take things from there."

Eric took another pull from the bottle, and Lissa mourned the loss.

"So what do you think?" she prompted.

Eric stood up with another smile, a genuine smile: "I think we'll need more booze. you know, to properly cement this partnership."

Lissa smiled and sank back down onto her blanket as the door closed.

"Bring two this time!" she called as the door closed.

......Roger.

What did I want? Lissa all but throwing herself at me forced me to ask. No, Lissa actually did throw herself at me, just like in those cheesy old films we used to watch and suffer through as kids.

I knew I wanted kids. But given a choice between having kids with Mouse or Lissa, I knew. I wanted kids with Mouse. I wanted to be with Mouse, the way she was now; even having her so angry she could spit at me was preferable to having old, male Mouse. Female Mouse was... far more interesting, somehow. That hurt to admit, even to myself.

Was Lissa right? Did Mouse feel the same about me, even a little? If I walked up to her now, what would she say?

What could I say? Was saying anything even the right thing to do?

No, this was stupid. Second guessing any of this was stupid. Whatever happened was up to Mouse; I just had to focus on my job and make any hard decisions involving flying the ship and taking care of the crew.

"Seig, any hard decisions involving flying the ship or taking care of the crew come up while I was gone?"

"Not a single one, Captain sir," Seig replied, getting up and letting me settle in the Captain's chair.

The chair that wasn't worth it. I knew what all those pitying looks from Mouse's Dad were for, now. He knew one of us would get the worst most thankless job on the ship.

"Darn."

"Cheer up, we could always have a catastrophic problem and all die in the next five minutes. You'll get the chance to kill us all any time now."
That was Seig for you. "Thanks. Looking forward to it, in your case."

Seig slapped me on the back somehow, despite the fact that I was sitting down. "That's the spirit!"

I looked up and noticed the rest of the bridge crew all staring at me.

"What?"

They all put their heads back down to their consoles, and actually started working. What that was even about, I had no idea. I wasn't some lab specimen. The temptation to bust them all passed with effort. Mainly because it was really meaningless, and every member of the crew knew it. I settled in and tried my best to look stern.

......Mouse.

With the last filter changed, my job was officially done, and could offer no more distractions.

What could I do? What, in all of space, should I do? My choices had both expanded and thinned in the course of a minute; I could marry for a time and become a man again but the choice of grooms made me ill.

Mostly. Despite his betrayal, Roger was at least a friend. Maybe. He wouldn't push, and wouldn't screw me over again - I'd put the fear of me into him after the first time. Eric wouldn't do it either, I didn't think. Would he?

He was too pushy anyway. I didn't want to risk it.

I was fine with being a hermit afterward, and living alone. Carnal pleasure, as my Mom called it, was overrated. At least I was pretty sure it was; if it was the best thing ever as some media had portrayed, mankind never would have made it into space in the first place - we'd have been too busy.

The other choices just rubbed me wrong; too passive, too... weak? Beneath me at any rate, I was the best catch on this ship, as a boy or a girl. Despite my ego, if one could consider having an ego as big as mine an undesirable thing. I could back mine up, at least.

Roger and Eric had at least offered. And by offered I mean they had managed to say more than two words to me in a single day; I wasn't that scary, people could talk to me. Then again, I was getting far more female attention lately than I ever used to; were the two related somehow?

I should probably learn more psychology; even if trying to figure myself out that way seemed kind of pointless.

No, I'd learn. I needed to know how to win friends and influence people, and if the last few months are any indication, I didn't know nearly enough about it; if I had, I'd be captain, and Roger would be in my shoes. Rogina? Rogeria? Was there a female version of the name Roger?

Was there a female version of my name? I didn't know. It didn't matter anyway, I wouldn't be changing it.

Enough delaying; what was I going to do? I'd already made up my mind, hadn't I? All the crap and manipulations aside, I had, hadn't I?

I needed a second opinion. Normally, I'd ask Claire, but her opinions were suspect, so Marion would have to do. The real issues with that would be getting her alone to ask and not having it spread all over the ship before I could act on the advice after.

No, advice was stupid. It was best just to do it.

I keyed my pad, hitting the right button by memory. "Captain."

"Chief engineer," his voice came back quickly, and he sounded wary, if anything. "Is there a problem?"

"Nothing drastically important, no... but we need to talk. Meet me at forobs one?" Forward observation room one was just under the bridge, and offered the best view of where we were going. It was also the most frequented observation port of the ship, but I needed the reminder for now; if anyone was there, I'd simply chase them out.

"Sure. On my way."

Screw cleaning up for this, or anything else; my dirty uniform and sweaty self was the best he deserved.

I really should have thought my choice of routes through; just striding down the main passage of the ship made it easy for everyone who wanted to gawk. Yes, come see the amazing unwillingly female engineer, and be sure to whisper behind her back so she wonders what you're up to. Bunch of jerks; I couldn't wait until life gave them something new to gossip about.

That would probably happen just before our kids froze us all, and we joined our parents. My luck was that good.

Joe actually started to follow me, of all things. I wasn't even on shift, so if it was business he was after the wrong person.

"Go away, Joe. whatever it is, it can wait."

He stopped, opened his mouth, then shut it and left back in the direction of the cafeteria.

Forward observation one was empty; a large lounge with chairs and couches inset into all the inner surfaces, and all the outer surfaces made of some of the most massive reinforced glass on the ship, laced with some more exotic material to make sure it was as tough as everything else. They also had truly massive shutters that could (and did, just days ago) roll down for emergencies. Those shutters were currently up, and so the view offered was of the stars we were headed towards, still too small without magnification to be beautiful.

Somehow I beat Roger here, which was odd. I had started from engineering, and this was maybe five minutes from the bridge. What was taking him so long?

Whatever; I sank down on my favorite couch with a sigh. Fully healed or not, scrambling around on hands and knees changing filters all day was tiring. The stars floated ever closer, pin pricks of light in a wall of darkness.

"Mouse."

Roger had snuck in while I wasn't looking; the drawback of this place being public and having no door.

"Roger." I greeted. I didn't bother looking at him.

He stayed silent.

"So, did you mean it?"

To his credit he knew what I meant. "Yeah, I meant it."

I turned, his eyes were wide but his face was set the same way as when we'd dealt with the rogue planet. I didn't think I warranted all that; he almost looking like he was going to puke all over the both of us.

"Hey, I don't like the idea any more than you do, but you're the one who betrayed me, so you should take responsibility. As stupid as it sounds, you're the only one I can trust not to betray me again."

His face slipped into shock. "That wasn't what I... look, I said I was willing and I am. I won't betray your trust again."

I believed him; after all, with Oddball offering this as an alternative, he had no reason to. As captain, he had to start keeping his word.

"But I have to ask... are you sure?"

That was fair. "No, not really. But if it's going to happen, I'd rather it be you. At least you're not going to make fun of me or something."

I half expected him to laugh and tell me he would, but he surprised me by stepping up and wrapping me in a hug so gentle I could barely feel it.

"No, never. For what it's worth, I'm sorry again, and I will make amends as long as you want."

"For the rest of your life?"

He didn't hesitate or stutter on the reply. "For the rest of my life."

I stepped back as much as he'd let me (he was still holding on loosely) held a fist out; an old gesture that only Roger and I knew, from an old movie we'd watched. "Friends?"

He bumped my fist with his. "Best friends."

I pulled him down with me to the couch, and dodged him when he almost hit me. "Good, got that out of the way at least."

Roger adjusted himself, getting comfortable. "So, what happens now?"

"Well, I guess we marry."

"Do you want a ceremony?" he asked, just before his pad chimed.

I raised an eyebrow right into Roger's chagrin.

"I have a good reason for it still being on, I promise." He took a look, and called out "Come ahead Marion!"

Marion walked in, wheeling a tray ahead of her. She kept her mouth firmly closed, even when i asked her what she was doing here. Instead Roger answered for her.

"I thought you might be hungry or thirsty - I know i am. So I dropped by the cafeteria and asked her to make something for us for this meeting. She promised not to eavesdrop or say a word while delivering it, too."

"You must have blackmail on her then, for all that." The look of exaggerated hurt on Marion's face was priceless; she really wanted to say something.

"The best. I know who is likely to ask her to marry."

Marion blushed, but didn't say anything. Instead she uncovered the food, an actual feast of things direct from Earth that Oddball had sent me, including more of that macaroni and cheese stuff, as well as a few things I didnt recognize. The drinks were water, some of my mentor's old fuel cleaner, and raspberry tea, an old favorite of mine I thought we were out of.

There was even a candle in the center; a small long white one which Marion lit with great care. Then she winked at me and left.

I snagged the tea and took a drink; it was cold and stronger than I was used to.

Roger went straight for Corbie's product, but stopped with a glance from me and went for the water instead. "So, back to business. Do you want a ceremony? A party?"

Oddball usually handled the party and ceremony set up, though the Captain was the sole marrying authority on the ship. Heh, Roger would be pretty busy soon, come to think of it; I'd heard stories of all the weddings and after parties from my Mom and Dad, they had been a subject of fond reminiscence decades later.
"No, I don't need a ceremony, and you're the Captain; if you say we're married, we are. That's good enough for me."

Roger fumbled with his pockets. "Right, well in that case, I came prepared."

The object he brought out was a small white loop - a ring. Titanium or an alloy of it unless I missed my guess, more valuable on this ship than the more standard gold. It was old and smooth but without signs of wear. Something made from something else, as all things were on this ship. A sign of value. There was no gemstone to get caught up or rip something either, which was a bonus on older rings I'd seen.

It was surreal. I held my hand out, and he gently took it and slipped the ring on my finger; it fit perfectly; a cold hard symbol of our contract with each other. I wanted to take it off, but I didn't dare.

"I'll admit I had some help sizing this." He told me softly.

"I'm afraid I don't have anything for you." I hadn't really been thinking about all this in terms of rings and ceremony.

He waved it off and took a bite of pasta. "Don't worry about it, I had a bit more time today than you. I don't care about it anyway."

Yeah, no. "I'll have one for you by tomorrow and you'll like it."

If I was getting claimed like this, so was he.

"Yes Ma'am," he agreed quickly. "There is just no need to trouble yourself over it. I can wait. I thought you'd appreciate the gesture yourself, is all."

I didn't want to tell him I did appreciate it. "Ma'am huh?"

Roger smirked back at me. "Blame your father for that one."

Yeah politeness was how Dad operated - when he was sure he stepped a foot right in the compost.

"Alright, so what's next?" I knew I was forgetting something.

Roger held up his pad. "Making it official."

Right. He handed his pad over rather than just send it. The marriage license was already filled out on it, My last name was changed on it, as was tradition, and Roger had already signed it with his thumbprint.

Dad would just have to get over the fact that there would be no little Zamirs running around. I pressed my thumb next to my name, sealing the deal. With a ting, the document saved, and a swipe sent a copy to my own pad.

"Well, that's done." Roger was taking a drink of the good stuff; perfect. "Pass that over and strip."

The spit take was caught on film for all posterity, courtesy of my pad.

"Can't we finish eating first?" Roger begged, giving his plate a soulful stare.

"No can do, friend of mine. Not a single hour, not even five minutes longer than I need to. We can eat after, the food will keep just fine. You understand, don't you?"

Roger sighed, but stood up and started unbuckling.

Then of course it was my turn. "Wh - wh - what the heck?!?"

Roger looked up. "What?"

"What the heck man, did you grow more?"

"Well, you know Mouse, when a man sees a hot woman or a reasonable facsimile, such things tend to happen. Surely you haven't forgotten how these things work already?"

"I meant in general, jackass!" he certainly looked bigger since the last time I'd seen him in a locker room. "It's just... deal's off, man. There's no way that thing'll fit!"

Roger stepped forward with a warm, lopsided smile.

It fit.

Fin.