Pestilence, Page 3

fraternization: what crew members arranged once back on Earth was entirely their own business, but in space sex was forbidden, and especially with guests. It was a reasonable rule; any guest coming to the station was by fact of the cost to stay on Earthrise, very wealthy. A liaison with a rich guest was probably in quite a few of the female minds, but for the owners and operators of Earthrise the last thing they wanted was to get the reputation of an orbiting brothel.

  The rule was quite clear and enforced, break it and the offenders contract would be canceled and they would immediately be sent down to the planet; but that wasn’t possible any longer, and as weeks passed into months the rule was ignored. Andrew couldn’t rescind the rule, but he was powerless to enforce it, and decided: as many do in such situations, to ignore what was happening.

  It was after an accusation of sexual assault that he had no choice but to face the fact. The guests felt they were unbound by the same rules that applied to crew, and one of the Americans and Bethany, who acted as auxiliary nurse were having an affair that they did little to hide. The assault occurred when a construction worker, Silvo, cornered and groped her; and Andrew was forced into acting.

  Mathew was incredulous. “You can’t put him there?”

  “And where precisely do you think I should keep him?”

  Mathew didn’t have a better option. “There must be somewhere more practical?”

  “There isn’t. I can’t just confine him to his room, he shares it with two others and it would be no punishment whatsoever. I can’t confine him to another room because all the ones that are coming available are close to the guests and they are making the most noise about it.”

  Matt nodded “I know they are and that’s just heaping fuel on the crews resentment.”

  “Be that as it may, they demand: and have every right to demand that we enforce what is a norm in civil society; that he pays the consequence.”

  “Imprisonment without a trial?”

  “Mathew you know very well we don’t have do process up here, he has admitted what he did: she’s identified him. If I was at sea I’d have every authority to put him in the brig.”

  “An abandoned pod is not a brig.”

  “I think it is an ideal place to imprison him. It has partly finished rooms that we can make do; it will be problematic to reinstate services to just to that one, but that could be a good thing?”

  “How do you figure?”

  “If we have to re-power the section, he can work on the cabins?”

  Matt shook his head. “You’re going to put him in solitary confinement and make him work?”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t dispute he ‘s probably guilty but he’s not had proper due process?”

  “He’s a builder; that’s why he’s here; if he hadn’t have been so stupid he’d be doing something somewhere.”

  Matt begrudgingly had to agree. “But he would have a say in what he was doing?”

  “None of us have that luxury Mathew. Keeping the station functioning, and remaining alive overrides any of our likes or dislikes.”

  Matt nodded.

  “We can isolate the airlock to make the area secure, and there’s a couple of pods in between without breathable air: together they make it…” Andrew smiled. “As secure as a medieval castle and moat?”

  Matt couldn’t argue that. “You haven’t forgotten the pod before it is where we have set up the morgue?”

  “No I haven’t, and I don’t see what difference that makes.”

  Matt sighed. “I just hope it doesn’t add fuel to the resentment.”

  “I have no choice, I have to make an example of him; if I don’t the place could turn into the wild west; discipline is already being flaunted, the crew have to realize we need them to do as they were contracted to do, and conform to acceptable standards.”

  “None of them know what the future holds; it’s hard for them to act normal when it isn’t?”

  “That is no excuse, they: we are professionals, we do the job best we can, if we don’t there’s no question of what our outcome will be.”

  Mathew knew what Andrew was saying was right. “Okay.”

  “And while we’re talking about discipline, I’m going to reinforce uniform requirements. Uniform must be worn at all times.”

  “All the uniforms are getting pretty tatty?” Matt held up his sleeve to show where the cuff had become threadbare.

  “Anything is better than the assortment of types and colours they have taken to wearing.”

  “What about the guests?”

  “You want me to give them uniforms?”

  “Of course not, but the crew already see them as being treated differently. They get better food…”

  “They get the same.” Interrupted Andrew.

  “You and I know that, but that’s not what’s being said, they believe they not only get better treatment but they are getting our women.”

  “I shouldn’t have to point out Mathew that they are not our women, they are crew and they should behave like professional crew members. This isn’t some swingers convention.”

  Andrew spent more and more time with the multitude of daily documentation that was needed as Earthrise returned to it’s original function; to run the hotel as if was still a functioning hotel, though of course no guest would ever be sent the bill. The actual day-to-day running of the array he passed onto Clive. Minds were off of their past dramas when Josh Brown was crushed to death.

  This was probably the most serious loss of life, Josh was the pilot of the St Louis and while Alisha was qualified to fly it, no one else was.

  There was no direct guilt. The solar sails intended to provide power had to be moved; only no one inside knew Josh was still working on the arm that held them up and away from the station. His screams as the life was crushed from his body would linger in the nightmares of all who were listening to the communications link.

  This latest fatality was a rude re-awakening of their predicament; some said an omen that the Earthrise would arrive at its meeting with Earth as a Mary Celeste: a lifeless shell.

  Andrew was too busy with the arrays preparations to give Emma’s request for an autopsy any serious thought.

  “I should think the reason for the man’s death is more than obvious?” he said in an indifferent tone.

  “Yes…” she said slowly pampering to his flippant remark. “The fact is that at some stage we are going to have to make formal representations to the authorities about the deaths.”

  “We’ve been through this before; they will have my reports?”

  “Commander with due respect, in a coroners court your reports will be considered opinions.”

  Andrew looked at the data in front of him. “In a perfect world we would call the police and have them investigate. We’re not in a perfect world, were in a metal can, alone and deep in space The result is that I already have enough to keep me busy without an investigation of every single accident. If I was to waste my days on that when do I get the time to get us back to Earth?”

  “Assuming we do, the fact is that at some time a coroner will require you to provide that detailed information. What I’m asking is permission to investigate, and without your approval I don’t have the authority to demand the crew to give it to me. All you have to do is give me that authority.”

  “You are not a qualified pathologist; if I give you that authority it’s almost certain that the same court will accuse me of complicity in desecrating corpses?”

  Andrew had brought up the one thing she hadn’t wanted him to; she decided to ignore it. “When I was assigned as medical officer I began to collate all the information, there are things that puzzle me; they will no doubt be something the coroner will be asking.”

  Andrew looked at her. His voice took on a curious edge. “Have you been talking to Mathew?”

  “Mathew? About what in particular?”

  “The deaths?”

  “Of course.”

  “So you agree wit
h him?”

  “I’m referring in general to what’s happening; if he has an actual opinion then we haven’t talked about it?”

  Andrew grunted. “Okay; you have access to any remains but only for the absolute minimum and you alone are responsible for whatever you do?”

  Josh was still in the small morgue, adjacent to the medical pod. It was barely big enough for two bodies never mind one still in a space suit. After the decompression and crushing his body was in such a poor state that Emma had left him inside. She had seen some messy deaths but never one as bad as his. She took samples of the liver and stomach, besides draining the remaining contents of the latter. She took samples of hair and fingernails, besides the usual blood, saliva and skin scrapings. It would not be exhaustive, but enough that traces of anything that shouldn’t be there; would be found.