5.
Even though he had packed food and taken some from the impromptu party, Evan was running a bit short and knew he’d have to go out to forage. Whether he should do so during the middle of the night while everyone was asleep and only a skeleton crew was on duty, or make use of the crowds, was the question.
He finally decided upon midnight, only to encounter another party when he opened the door. It was a lot quieter and had nowhere near as many people, maybe about twenty to twenty-five. The lights were still in place, but the DJ and food table had been removed. He stopped short with the door open just a little, and kept watch for when no one was looking. It took a good five minutes, but finally he darted out, silently closing the door and then ducking behind the nearest container.
The murmur of a deep voice was too low to make out actual words. Evan peeked around the corner and waited again until no one was looking his way, which took a lot less time. Everyone seemed focused on a large, blond man holding onto a board of some kind in the center of the circle.
Evan walked swiftly around the outskirts of the hold, keeping behind the storage boxes and trying his best not to pass out from anxiety. The trip to the door was the longest and most nerve-wracking thing he’d done yet. Getting on board with everyone focused on the passengers had been easy. Breaking codes inside had been easier; it was as if they figured anyone on board had a right to be there and therefore they didn’t bother with encryption. But the walk to the door involved trying not to be seen by actual people with nothing else to focus on. Evan’s heart thudded in his chest when he reached the lift and he jabbed the button repeatedly in the hope that that would hurry it along, even though he knew better.
Standing to the side--not that this would hide him more than a few seconds if someone was in the lift--Evan waited for only a minute before it arrived. It felt like much, much longer. No one was there, thank God, and he hurried inside, pressing the button for the second floor. The schematics he’d memorized showed the kitchens attached to the main ballroom. The lift took a few minutes to reach the higher deck, moving at a slow, after-hours pace.
He peeked out of the lift and found the main corridor deserted, so he jogged toward the kitchen’s crew entrance. Evan listened carefully at the door, and then took a breath and opened it. The large room was dark, and he shone his torch first at the floor, then down the main aisle, and finally ran for the storeroom.
It him took a good three minutes after connecting his reader to the panel lock to hack the kitchen’s security. Who knew the kitchen would be locked up better than the storage holds? Evan compulsively looked over his shoulder about every five seconds, which only made it feel longer, but couldn’t help himself. Security made rounds of each deck on the hour and would reach the kitchen by quarter past. The Company had a spotless record when it came to guest security and hired the best, so Evan couldn’t expect to win against them if he was above-deck during rounds.
He almost tripped over his own feet once he was inside the cool storeroom. It was filled from floor to ceiling with boxes. Some were already open, fortunately, and he went to them first. He crammed bottled water, juices, boxes of cereal, and cereal bars into his backpack. Boring, but healthy, and it would keep him for at least three days, which was how long they were scheduled to be in the Fluctuation.
Evan closed the door behind him and disconnected the reader, shoving it into his loose pocket. He ran to the door, feeling each second tick down like he had an internal clock matching that of security. Pausing outside the door, he looked carefully down the corridor and heard footsteps. Early by a full ten minutes, and there were at least two of them.
There was nowhere to go except back into the kitchen, so Evan spun and hurried back inside. He flashed the torch around the room and finally found a small spot under the counter he thought he might be able to fit into. Running to it, he shoved his bag in first, and then forced his body into the tiny space, glad that his last growth spurt hadn’t filled him out like it had the other guys his age.
It was a very tight squeeze, but he managed to slide the door shut just as he heard the entrance open and those heavy footfalls enter the kitchen.
“I can’t believe we have to check the kitchen. Do they really think someone’s going to steal food on this tub?” a man’s voice grumbled.
A second voice answered, “You know Operations; he’s a stickler.”
“The old goat is more than a stickler; he’s a right…”
Evan’s foot slipped and he skidded inside the cabinet, barely catching himself. The thud echoed loudly in his ears and his breath quickened with his heartbeat.
“What was that?”
“You check this end; I’ll go further in.”
Cursing silently, Evan breathed through his mouth in an effort to be as silent as he could, trying to merge with the cabinet.
“Anything?”
“No, you?”
“No. Must’ve been one of those weird noises we keep getting complaints about. Let’s go.”
Evan didn’t move, listening to their footsteps disappear and then nothing for a couple extra minutes. When he did open the door again, he half-expected someone to be waiting and holding a weapon on him. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief and toppled out of the cabinet, grunting in pain when his hip impacted the floor at a bad angle.
He rolled to his feet and then jogged back to the door, stopping there to make sure no one was outside. If only he’d had the cash to get that mini-radar unit, he could be absolutely certain the coast was clear. He didn’t have one, though, and gingerly pushed open the door. Another sigh of relief escaped him on finding no one on the other side.
The trip back to the lift took less time, since he just ran flat out, keeping to the walls. It was easier, once you actually knew where you were going. The lift was empty again, thank God, but the doors opened onto a group of the partygoers. Evan’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but had no idea what to say.
“Evan! You’re late!”
Blinking in surprise at the words, he found the girl he’d been dancing with at the first party beaming at him. A blush instantly suffused him as he remembered her wandering hands and he stammered, “I ah, I didn’t, um, sorry?”
“That’s okay. We were going to raid the kitchen, but it looks like you beat us to it,” she said, taking his hand.
Someone relieved him of his bag and Evan nearly groaned in frustration. After everything he’d gone through, if a bunch of rich kids ate his food, he’d scream.
“Hey, this stuff’s crap! What’s with the cereal kick?” one of the guys demanded.
The girl protested, “It is morning! And hey, this is probably his first time away from home, right, Evan? Probably didn’t know what to grab. Brave of you to go by yourself, though.”
Evan swallowed against a suddenly dry throat when she pressed up against him and smiled. He yelped when one of her hands took a quick squeeze of his ass and the rest of the group burst out laughing.
“Come on, Abby, stop molesting the poor kid,” a dark-haired woman ordered, rescuing him. “Let’s go get some real snacks. See you, kid.”
The dim lighting of his torch gave the woman an angelic glow. Her blue eyes were almost startlingly bright, her features sharp and perfect as far as Evan could tell. She gave him a kind smile and he almost melted with instant love.
The angel asked, “Evan, right?”
Evan nodded dumbly.
It looked like she was trying not to grin as she said, “You have to actually move so we can get on the lift.”
He flushed again and practically jumped aside, almost tumbling over his bag, which the guy had dropped onto the floor. That earned him even more laughter as he picked it up, but they were then on the lift without further comment, thank God.
Getting back into his room was easier, since the remaining group had all drawn even closer to the blond man, who was either telling a hell of a story or hypnotizing them. Evan crept along the outside of the hold until he got to the inner door and attached his reader. It took less than a minute to re-break the code for the lock, since he’d set a backdoor into the code.
Once inside, Evan slid down the door and plopped onto the floor, the bag dropping with him. If he didn’t have to do that again, he’d be very, very happy.
***
Bob heaved a sigh as he lifted the crate onto his head and rolled down the storage hold. Being relegated to night duty was a less severe punishment than he could have expected, but it was still unfair. How was he supposed to know that the Company allowed aliens on their ships now? It wasn’t like there’d been a memo about it.
Grumbling to himself, Bob deposited the crate in its new location. It was just busywork until they sent him to the scrapheap, which he just knew was coming at the end of the voyage. Who would want him with these black marks on his record, even if none of it was his fault?
“Just not fair,” he sighed.
Bob rolled back to the pile that ‘needed’ to be moved to the other end of the hold. He noticed the flickering of the lights, but didn’t really pay attention since his infrared vision kicked in to compensate at nanosecond rate. It wasn’t until he heard a muffled boom that he paused in his duty to look around.
A fire had somehow broken out at the other end of the hold.
Bob moaned to the ship, “There’s no way they won’t think this is my fault!”
***
Racing down the hall, Rosaria giggled to herself with nervous excitement. They had bags full of desserts and snacks and, even though it wasn’t technically stealing since they’d paid for all-access, it still felt like they could get in trouble. It was so much better than that dance party.
She hadn’t been all that sanguine when Abby had explained about the séance, but the night had turned out to be a lot of fun. Sven claimed to be a medium and had brought a Ouija board with him, which was supposed to be some kind of ancient device to speak to ghosts. Rosaria didn’t really believe he could do any such thing, but it was nice to listen to his deep, lovely voice. It was practically mesmerizing.
Evan had been a surprise, but not a completely unpleasant one. She was going to have to keep an eye on him and Abby, though, to make sure that she didn’t talk the kid into something he wasn’t ready for. He couldn’t be more than sixteen and that was way too young for anything more than making out with a girl his own age. She remembered what she was like at that age, presenting a tougher, more adult façade to the world at large while being one mass of seething confusion. Something about him brought up her protective instincts.
There was no sign of Evan when they got back to the hold and Rosaria frowned, worried. She said to Emmabeth, “What do you mean, he never got here? We left him at the lift.”
Emmabeth tossed her red hair over her shoulder impatiently and retorted, “He didn’t show, Rosaria. Geez. What are you, the kid’s keeper?”
Scowling, Rosaria was about to respond scathingly when Abby grabbed her arm and said, “Sven’s about ready to start. Come on and have some fruit punch and we can talk to the nether world. Ooooo!”
Rosaria snorted, amusement winning out over the worry. It wasn’t like Evan could get into much trouble on a cruise ship. Abby had probably scared him off and he’d gone back to his suite.
***
Captain Sachowski looked at all the damage reports and incident reports and complaints, and knew something was deeply wrong with his beautiful, new ship. The Connemara was making her feelings known about flying deeper into the Fluctuation, of that he had no doubt. He looked up at a knock on his door and called out, “Enter.”
His First walked in and said, “Sir, a fire broke out in Hold D, Deck Eleven.”
Stephen frowned, wondering why that sounded familiar.
“Bob #39, sir.”
Right. His frown deepened and Stephen said, “I doubt it was his fault?”
“No, sir, it wasn’t,” the lieutenant reported. “Electrical fire. They aren’t sure how it started, but it blew up pretty quick. Took fifteen minutes to get under control.”
Stephen nodded. “It’s getting worse.”
His tone noncommittal, the lieutenant asked, “Are you turning back early, sir?”
That was the question. Did he wait and risk something serious happening on populated decks, or turn around and prompt a Company inquiry? If he turned around, he would also forfeit all bonuses coming his way and there went his comfortable retirement.
“No injuries so far?”
“No, sir.”
Stephen thought a bit more and then said, “We’ll continue on course for the scheduled timeline. There’s only two days left before we turn around anyhow.”
“Aye, sir. I’ll let the helm know.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
He watched the younger man leave and, even though there’d been no sign of it on his First’s face, Stephen knew he’d been disappointed. It rankled, but he couldn’t justify turning around because something serious might happen. Something bad could happen in normal space, too, and ships didn’t turn around because of it.
Stephen did his best to ignore the knowledge that he was rationalizing.
***
Evan stretched out in the near-dark as he tried not to think about the woman who’d so thoroughly captured his attention. He didn’t even know her name, but he sensed that, somehow, she would be important to his future. She was so beautiful, but it had been the kind humor in her vivid eyes that dug right into his heart.
Drip. Drip. Plonk.
The leak’s getting faster, he thought, yawning. It always lulled him to sleep in the otherwise-silent hold, no matter the time of day.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Plonk.
Curious, he wondered aloud, “Just how does a leak change its tune without anyone messing with it? And where’s the water?”
Because, despite looking for it earlier, he’d never seen the leak; he could only hear it.
Evan shrugged and yawned again, turning off the lamp and closing his eyes.
Plonk. Plonk. Plonk. Drip.