The Incident in Sixteen: Part Three of Three

By Matthew A DeBarth

In Front of the Aft Airlock of Aft Ag Deck 16

Third Watch, 2:40 Hours

*This is fine*, Veronica thought while the klaxon screamed, *I already have supplemental oxygen, so I won’t have to worry about oxygen deprivation or smoke inhalation while the sprinklers put out the fire*.

And then she remembered the work crew that she had been part of two days ago: her monitoring the oxygen levels while the team from Internal Maintenance emptied, sealed, and cut away all the water connections to the rest of the ship. Including the sprinklers.

*Okay*, she thought, *there’s more than one way to put out a fire*.

She set a target oxygen partial pressure of zero on the panel beside her and stabbed confirm. This time, the panel did not fight with her, she noted with bemusement. Instead, it dutifully started removing the excess oxygen that it had just finished so grudgingly adding.

She could see thin wisps of smoke from somewhere forward rising up and swirling into atmospheric intakes high above. The system would remove the oxygen and pump the nitrogen, carbon dioxide, and smoke back in again. It wasn’t a complicated system, and no one had designed it to filter out soot and smoke. There wasn’t supposed to be uncontrolled fire in here.

*It’s a race now,* she thought.

The fire and the atmospheric systems were both removing oxygen from Sixteen as quickly as they could.

The atmospheric system did it safely, but it was nine percent behind the starting line and flat footed.

The fire did it dangerously, throwing off heat and smoke, and was already going strong with all the extra oxygen in here.

*Which would finish first?* she wondered.

She pressed back against the door of the crippled airlock, for once more afraid of something other than the infinite emptiness on the far side of that slab of steel.

She cursed the crew that had damaged the airlock, she cursed the crew that had ripped out the sprinklers…but mostly she cursed herself for getting the partial pressure so wrong.

She wished she hadn’t sent her partner to bed. She wished she’d actually looked at the number when the panel challenged her. She wished shipbreakers hadn’t started cutting apart her workplace and home.

But mostly, she just really, really wished she wasn’t trapped in a wheat field with a wildfire.

36 Minutes Later And 0.93km Further Forward

The High Commander swept onto the cavernous bridge of the *Arvad*, her coming foretold by two fully armoured security officers and the Head of Security, and echoed by two more bulky security officers behind.

The guards split off at the door, with a pair on either side of it just inside, and the other pair taking up similar positions outside, facing back down that hallway they had come by. The closing door erased them from sight.

High Commander Natus and her Head of Security plunged deeper into the room, stopping just in front of the Third Watch Officer, who was in command tonight. He was standing in front of the big chair, where the bridge and the whole ship was commanded from.

He broke off from an intense conversation he was having over a headset to shout “Captain on the bridge!” slightly belatedly.

Natus made a little dismissive wave at the formality and instead said, “I have the conn.”

“You have the conn, aye, ma’am,” confirmed the Watch Officer. He gestured behind him at the command chair. He sounded a little hoarse from shouting over the two different alarms ringing continuously: the terrifying ‘fire aboard the ship’ and something else that she didn’t immediately recognize. Its tones sounded like one of the atmospheric alarms to her ear, but it wasn’t one of the serious ones like ‘depressurization’ or ‘hull breach’ or ‘pressure loss’.

She declined to sit down in the big chair, and instead stood squarely in front of him. “What’s the situation?” she asked.

“Fire in Aft Ag Deck Sixteen, ma’am. Serious one.”

Natus thought about this for a second. That explained the one alarm, but just led to more questions. “That’s not one of the oxygenated ones, is it?”

Head of Security Sadleman silently shook his head ‘no’ off to the side.

“No, ma’am,” the Watch Officer replied, “not normally, no. But there’s been an incident there tonight. Here, hold on….”

He took off his headset and pressed a button on his control panel. An overhead speaker started emitting a dull roar and the sound of a klaxon.

“You’re on with *Arvad* Actual now,” he said, looking slightly upwards at the speaker.

“Oh, great, an audience for my colossal screw up, and it’s the big boss,” came a voice from the speaker. It sounded muffled, hollow, scared, and feminine. “Ma’am, I am so sorry about all this. I hope they didn’t wake you, did they?”

“Uh, they did wake me, actually. But it’s standing orders, and not really optional,” Natus said calmly. “Why don’t you start at the beginning, Miss….?”

“Nguyen, ma’am. Veronica Nguyen, Citizen Farmer, Aft Section,” she said. “I’m a Life Support Engineer assigned to manage the atmosphere on the Ag Decks back here.”

“Okay, Citizen Nguyen,” Natus said, “can you please brief me on the situation there?”

“Yes, ma’am. I am alone here in AAD16, oxygenating it in preparation for the work party tomorrow at oh eight hundred-“

“You mean later today at oh eight hundred?” Natus interrupted. “Like, five hours from now?”

“Affirmative, ma’am, technically later today. Sorry, long day for me, ma’am.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Since sixteen hundred, ma’am. Start of second watch.”

“Uh, that’s eleven hours on duty. You’re over hours. And also alone.”

“Yes, ma’am; that’s correct. Two huge safety violations, ma’am.”

“That’s not what I meant, Citizen Nguyen,” Natus corrected. “I’m not trying to get you in trouble; I’m trying to find out how you ended up like this. You aren’t supposed to be in this situation at all, and I’m trying to figure out what went wrong to put you there.”

“Long hours and not enough people is the new normal. That’s the schedule, ma’am.” There was a brief silence on the line, other than the distant roaring and the insistent sound of a klaxon. “That’s *your* schedule, ma’am.”

Natus glanced at Sadleman, but he was looking up at the speaker stoically.

“Is that the sound of the fire?” he asked.

“Uh, yes, sir. It’s gotten quite loud, sir. It’s the worst I’ve ever seen in an Ag Deck, sir.”

The Watch Officer nodded gravely. He actually looked kind of pale.

“Uh, High Commander Natus, ma’am?” Veronica asked nervously.

“Yes, Nguyen?” she replied. “Why don’t you call me Lucinda for now?”

“Okay, Lucinda,” Veronica said, sounding very cautious about using the High Commander’s first name like this. “Uh, my friends call me Vee, ma’am.”

“Pleased to meet you, Vee,” Natus said. “Sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”

“Lucinda, ma’am, it was my mistake. I set the oxygen level wrong in here. Two nine point forty-six per, and not two zero point nine four six per.”

Natus whistled in surprise. “That’s high.”

*That was the other alarm that I couldn’t immediately identify*, she thought. It was ‘high oxygen’. She had never heard it before, except for maybe once two years ago during her command training. *What a weird alarm*.

“Yeah, very high, ma’am,” Veronica agreed. “I caught it and fixed it after the fire alarm went off, but the fire was already spreading by then. It’s burning a little less intensely now that the oxygen is falling, but it got really out of control in that time, and we are still above ship standard in here despite everything. And the whole Deck is all dense dry wheat, ready for the harvest.”

“What about the sprinklers?” Sadleman asked.

“Disconnected two days ago, sir. I don’t know how much of a help they might have been, though. The low oxygen level is supposed to be the primary method of fire suppression in an Ag Deck, you know?”

“I’m aware,” Natus said. “What can we do to help you from here?”

“Well, there is one more method of fire suppression left to try, ma’am. I’m keeping an eye on the fire, and if it gets much closer to the aft wall, I’m going to have to do it.”

“You can see the fire?” Natus asked.

“Yeah, it’s about all I can see now, through the smoke.”

There was a long silence as they listened to the roar, which now had a distinct crackling sound below it. No one seemed to know what to say next. The sound of Veronica panting and eventually whimpering started to come out of the speaker.

Veronica’s voice could then be heard, as she softly said, “Ah, fuck.”

The confirmation beep of taps on a touch screen came over the channel next.

Veronica chuckled wryly, which sounded strange and unnerving over the speaker. “You know, this is the second time today a panel has asked me to be really, really certain about doing something crazy. Kinda wish I’d paid more attention the first time.”

“Vee, what are you attempting?” Natus asked.

Veronica did not answer.

There was the small thump of a Muse being docked and three higher pitched tap confirmation beeps over the open mic.

And the sounds of the fire, very loud now, drowning out even the blaring klaxon.

“This fire is barely slowing down,” Veronica said. “It’s getting really hot, and I’d almost certainly already be dead from smoke inhalation if not for the oxygen mask. I can’t see anything anymore.”

“What can we do to help you?” The watch officer repeated.

“Not much, I’m afraid. Yeah, I’m going to step outside for a moment, Lucinda. For what it’s worth…” she paused. “…for what it’s worth, I actually liked your plan. The colony on the surface of the asteroid; moving the Ag Decks down four at a time. It was a good plan. It’s a shame I won’t see it completed.”

“What?” Natus said, confused. “What do you mean?”

“It was an honour talking to you, ma’am. It’s a big ship, and I didn’t get up to your end of it as often as I would have liked. But the bow doesn’t feel as far away as usual right now.”

“Vee, please report your situation,” Natus insisted.

“Lucinda?” Veronica said gravely, “*I* put the number in wrong; it was my fault, not yours. Goodbye.”

There was an incredibly loud rushing roar, and then complete silence. No fire, no klaxon. No Veronica.

And then a loud alarm on the bridge abruptly replaced both the ‘fire’ alarm and the ‘high oxygen’ alarm.

“Depressurization alarm, Aft Ag Deck Sixteen,” the Watch Officer announced solemnly. “The whole deck.” He paused. “Additionally, the fire is now out.”

“And Vee?” Natus asked softly, stunned.

He shook his head grimly. “There’s nothing but open space aft of Sixteen, ma’am. The shipbreakers cut it all away three days ago.”

Natus blinked a few times, slowly. “Uhh…um, uh. I…uh…” She swallowed. “Sadleman, you have the conn,” she blurted out.

“I have the conn, aye, ma’am,” Sadleman confirmed mechanically, his stoicism complete.

“Report to my quarters at oh eight hundred, please?” she asked.

“Aye aye, ma’am,” he said curtly.

“It’s not an order, Ron” Natus said softly. “I’m asking as a friend.”

“In that case,” he said, surprisingly gently, “of course, Luci. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” she said hollowly, backing off the bridge, drifting slowly away, once again surrounded by her four intense security officers.

Four Hours and 42 Minutes Later And 0.07km Further Aft

As Sadleman approached the High Commander’s quarters, the guards in the hallway outside threw crisp salutes at him.

“Go on in, sir,” one said. “She’s expecting you.”

He saluted back, then opened the door.

“Commander Natus?” he asked, just inside.

“In here, Ron,” came the reply, from her bedroom.

He walked across the living room — his room — and leaned in through the open door to the bedroom. Natus was sitting barefoot on the foot of her bed in her stationware uniform, knees drawn up to her chin, arms tightly hugging her legs. Her Muse Monocle was missing from her face.

She had been crying.

“Have you ever ordered someone to their death, Ron?”

“You know that I have, Luci,” he said guardedly. He thought of the Scrubbers and their mutiny for a second, then willed himself to push that awful memory back down again.

“Does it ever get easier?” she asked.

“No,” he said flatly. “Of course not.”

“I came up through Navigation, Ron. It’s high stakes, but it’s abstract. It’s all or nothing. The whole ship is safe, or the whole ship is not safe. You know what I mean?”

“Luci, it’s the same burden, no matter how you slice it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she said, not sounding certain about it at all. “But I mean, we just listened to a young woman intentionally space herself rather than burn to death, all because she made an honest mistake way too many hours into her shift…trying to execute *my* schedule. This is worse than that whole Murcheson debacle. At least no one actually died during that!”

“Veronica Nguyen saved the ship, Luci,” Sadleman said. “You can’t have a fire like that against an airlock for long before the seals start to fail. Not the aft end, I mean, but the forward one. There’s been reports of smoke in the air in the rib between Sixteen and Twelve, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, holding up her Muse with one hand. “I’ve just been crying and doomscrolling since I left the bridge.”

“It’s a tragedy, I know.” Sadleman said. “But shipbreaking isn’t optional, even if it is unsafe.”

“Yeah, but maybe…maybe we could go a bit slower. And safer?”

“I have already ordered that all Ag Deck oxygenation is to be done by a two person crew, and at the start of a watch, instead of in advance. It’s in the book now, because no part of shipbreaking was ever in the book before.”

“Well, that fixes this one specific fluke of a failure, but what about all the other steps that aren’t in the book yet? Can’t we get ahead of it? Before people die?”

Sadleman was deadly serious for a moment. “Luci, every safety regulation is written in blood. Every line in the book cost someone an eye or an arm or their life.”

“Huh,” Natus gasped, looking stunned.

“Luci?” Sadleman asked, more gently again.

“Yeah?”

“Take a bit of time-not a lot, though-and have a shower, put on your formal uniform, and meet me back on the bridge. Bring your schedule with you. We are going to double that timeline to build in some more margin for safety. And then you are going to announce it to everyone, before the end of second watch. It’s time for some decisive leadership.”

She sniffled and then nodded.

“And then you and I are each going to take an eight hour leave and sleep until first watch tomorrow. We can’t go faster than the fastest that we can go. Deal?”

Natus wiped her eyes. “Deal.”

“And maybe skip a meal, because there’s going to have to be a new ration plan. We just lost like three and a bit percent of our harvest.”

Natus’ eyes went wide. “Oh, no, I hadn’t realized! All our numbers!”

“Rest first, problems after a nap and a shower. You’re fried, and there’s a new line in the book about not working first watch after both a full day and a third watch emergency.”

“Is there, now?”

“Turns out,” he agreed, waving over his shoulder as he headed for the door. “See you second watch. That’s an order.” He smiled at her. They both knew he couldn’t really order her to do anything.

“Ron?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, ma’am,” he called back as he left.