Scavenger Hunt
Breakaway + 10 days
"Attention all sections Alpha. For the next seventy-two hours a general amnesty is declared on any item of contraband turned into Security or Medical Center…" Cmdr Koenig
The exhausted command team gathered around the table once again for the daily debriefing, as they had each day since their traumatic departure from Earth. Helena looked at each face critically trying to gauge how much longer each person could last at the frenetic pace they were keeping. She had not, quite, reached the point where she could effortless 'read' the body language of those present. That would come with time. For now, her own exhaustion and the unbelievable situation they found themselves in made her cautious about over-interpreting the stress-filled responses of those around her.
Helena looked around the room as everyone filed in and took their usual seats. For a blessing, Simmonds was absent today. That would cut down on the acrimony significantly. She sat down across from the Commander, the better to observe him first.
Commander Koenig looked as if he had aged a decade in the past ten days. No doubt two or three days of sleep would help immensely, but Helena questioned if the deep lines of grief around his mouth would ever completely fade. He remained exclusively, almost oppressively focused on the belief that they could survive. His sheer determination and force of personality were huge factors in what Alpha as a whole had accomplished since leaving Earth. In their few discussions they had spoken almost exclusively about Alpha's status, but she thought she detected a subtle relaxing of his very formal attitude around her. She hoped so. Victor spoke very highly of this man; that he was an excellent pilot and astronaut and an able administrator with good people skills. She hoped so. He would need every advantage.
Helena looked up a bit startled by the touch on her right shoulder, but then had a welcoming smile for the man seating himself next to her. For all he was fifteen years the Commander's senior, Victor Bergman looked the best of all present, herself included. Helena counted him an old friend and found great comfort in his presence and quietly buoyant optimism. He seemed to be everywhere lending his two cents, or perhaps two shillings, to good effect. On the third day after what was becoming known as Breakaway, she had checked him over thoroughly. His prosthetic heart had weathered the recent stresses very well and he had reassured her that he would be just fine.
She looked back to those gathering around the table. Next to the Commander sat a tightly held man wearing a day-old, rumpled, red-sleeved uniform. Paul Morrow held his emotions closely in check, as he usually did, and was still an enigma to Helena. She had met him upon her arrival in January of 1999 and had interacted rarely with him since, and then only in a professional capacity. The dark circles under his expressionless eyes were the only outward sign of his fatigue, but Helena had the sense he would snap soon if he didn't get rest.
David Kano awkwardly sat down next. Helena knew him the least well of all present. He was a late addition to their group after Ben Ouma's horrific death on day four. He had only recently arrived on Alpha to work in relative obscurity on the artificial intelligence project. She knew little of that program except that it had been held under the tightest security as a project commissioned by several of Earth's military forces. She knew Kano had a highly experimental deep cortical implant and was developing the reputation of being almost empathic with Computer. The latter perhaps due to the former, or so the rumors went. In any case, Helena had no difficulty 'reading' Kano. Even giving allowance for his discomfort in having to unexpectedly work with Alpha's elite, he simply looked stilted and awkward. As brilliant as his records showed him to be, he certainly lacked in the people-skills area.
Helena felt someone walk up next to her and pull out the chair to her left. Sandra Benes sat down with a quick nod in her direction. Helena looked critically at the young woman. Her quick, jerky movements were not at all like her usual gracefulness and spoke eloquently to her fatigue. Her dark eyes were bruised and fearful, but nonetheless she had a stack of status reports ready to present. Helena had a casual friendship with the senior data tech, one developed over the mutual hobby of needlework. She had frequently found the younger woman in the evenings in the recreation center watching an old movie and working on her latest cross-stitch project. Unfortunately, Helena's patient duties and research, and then the more recent magnetic radiation crises, had kept her from working on her own incomplete needlepoint project. From her final visit to Earth in June, Helena had brought back with her a lovely painted canvas. Maybe one day things on Alpha would again become 'normal' enough to work on it.
The door opened one more time and in walked Alan Carter. He took the chair between Victor and David, nodding briefly in her direction before looking about the table. Helena saw his gaze pause on Sandra for just a moment longer than the others, but then saw his attention turn to the Commander. Helena rather liked the Australian astronaut, for all he had his profession's usual avoidance of hers. He looked tired but determined to do whatever was required of him. Helena watched him sit and briefly rub his eyes with hands that were chaffed and scraped from the almost overwhelming repair work. As she had at prior command meetings, Helena wondered if he regretted returning to Alpha on that awful day. He was the only one who had had a realistic chance to return home after Breakaway. It might make for an interesting question one day.
"Alright people, where do we stand?" The Commander was focused as usual.
Helena leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, and watched the others give their section reports. She listened less to the specifics of each report and more to the tone and timbre of the voices, and what she saw worried her. While Alpha was beginning to slowly regain a sense of balance, the people in front of her were about to collapse. Finally, her turn came.
"Dr. Russell? How do things look?"
Helena pulled her attention back from her concerns and looked at the Commander.
"The wounded that survived the first three days are continuing to improve with four exceptions." She took a measured breath and continued. "Two of those will probably die within the next forty-eight hours." Mentally she cringed at the summary callousness in her voice. "The other two… remain marginal."
"Marginal?" Koenig asked with a raised eyebrow.
"If we were still on Earth, they would almost assuredly survive, but here…" She shrugged to show her frustration. "Crush injuries both. They are off emergent dialysis and the infections are under control, but they are profoundly depressed, one almost catatonic. The laundry supervisor will almost certainly yet lose one leg if not both, while the security guard is suffering from severe post-concussive headaches and memory problems along with multiple fractures. I just don't know."
Koenig nodded his head. "And Life Support?"
"That is doing very well, considering. We were very fortunate the damage to that infrastructure was minimal."
Koenig gave her a tight smile and obviously prepared to move on.
"However, Commander…"
He returned his attention to her.
"... we are now realizing the critical shortages we have in several key areas."
"Such as, Doctor?"
"Food, medicines, as well as personnel in several key areas of health care."
"Food?" Koenig pounced on the most immediate worry. "I thought Sandra reported the food production facilities were up and running?" Koenig look confused and concerned as he glanced at Sandra and then back to her.
Helena explained further. "Yes, the protein vats are gearing up to meet basic needs as we exhaust the preserved and stored food available. However…" Helena saw Sandra hesitantly nod in agreement. She knew Sandra was aware of the problem and encouraged the younger woman to continue.
"Commander, the food derived from the vats will be nutritious but essentially tasteless unless we find means to augment our diet. In addition, the head dietician reports a critical shortage of herbs and spices. Those were still among the items sent from Earth. Hydroponics had yet to start to grow them."
Koenig looked irritated at the stress being placed on what he obviously saw as inconsequential.
Helena spoke up again. "Commander, unless we can manage a healthy, palatable diet, we will in the not to distant future have a serious malnourishment problem on our hands, and that will make all of this," and Helena gestured to the walls around them, "irrelevant."
Helena watched Koenig look around and realize the others were starting to consider the ramifications of an endless future eating pablum.
"Suggestions then, Doctor."
"A scavenger hunt."
"A what?" asked a clearly befuddled Alan.
Paul and David looked lost; Sandra only knew what she meant as they had spoken of it earlier. The Commander nodded his head slowly as he began to understand her thinking.
Helena continued for the benefit of the non-North Americans. "We all know that people bring up items not exactly on the authorized list. For the most part, as long as they are not illegal or harmful, security and the administration turn a blind eye."
Helena briefly wondered at the small smile shared by Sandra and Alan and the snort Paul gave as he darted a scathing look in Alan's direction. More stories to ferret out later, she thought.
"Now, I want to turn that to our advantage. We can organize searches of the belongings of those who died and for the remainder…"
"We can declare a period of general amnesty," suggested Paul.
Helena smiled in his direction. "Yes. I think that will do quite nicely."
"Good enough," nodded Koenig. "And about your other concerns?"
"We can address those later, Commander. But there is one issue that has become critical."
Koenig again looked at her with concern.
Helena sat up straight, leaned forward, putting both hands on the table in front of her clasped casually to demonstrate she was confident and assertive but not a threat. She would use every psychological trick at her disposal to make her point. This was the first showdown since Breakaway of their conflicting authorities and whether Koenig realized it or not, she planned to win.
"Your command staff is about to collapse from exhaustion, Commander. We all need a solid twenty-four hours of rest. Forty-eight would be better, but I quite realize that I cannot keep you away from your posts that long at present. From what I have heard today, Alpha sounds as if it is stable for the moment." She looked questioningly around the table and received nods, some hesitant, some reluctant, but agreement nonetheless. "We all need to rest. Either voluntarily, or I can make it an order. Commander?"
She left it now to Koenig to decide if he wanted to make an issue of her decree. Gorski would have without a doubt. Koenig looked at her steadily as she tried not to hold her breath. He abruptly nodded his head.
"I agree, Doctor. Wrap up loose ends for now, people, and then get some rest. I want everyone off-duty within the hour. We will meet again late tomorrow and have your seconds accompany you to give report. You've all done a good job and deserve the time off."
Helena saw him make eye contact with each person present. She was becoming more and more impressed with this man's leadership skills.
Koenig stood as the others gathered their reports and got ready to leave. "Doctor, if you would…" he gestured toward his office's sofa area.
Helena nodded her understanding, but first needed to speak with Sandra. She touched the young woman on the arm to get her attention.
"Sandra we need to circulate a request to every Alphan and have them list their skills and hobbies no matter how odd or inconsequential. We have some important personnel holes to fill and will probably have to get creative in doing so. After you get some rest," Helena emphasized to the exhausted tech.
Sandra nodded her understanding. "Yes, Doctor."
The room cleared and Koenig closed the doors separating his office from the working hub of Main Mission. "Do you think they will rest?" he said with a tired smile as he led the way to the conversation area.
"They will or I will arrange for sedatives. I'll have their commlocks and biosigns followed in Medical and if they are not resting within a few hours I'll have Vincent track them down. Exhausted people make stupid mistakes and Alpha cannot afford that. Commander."
Koenig looked up from between his fingers as he rubbed his burning eyes and at the tension headache throbbing in his temples.
"Touché, Doctor." Koenig leaned back against the sofa and simply looked at her. She returned the favor.
"Yes, Commander?"
"Why do I have the impression you expect me to challenge your decisions?"
Helena sighed. He had hit the proverbial nail on the head. She did expect it.
"Because Gorski did so at every turn, I suspect."
"I'm not Gorski."
"Yes. Thank goodness."
"Alright, then. I know we had a rocky go there just after I arrived. Let's start over." Koenig sat up and leaned forward extending a hand to her. "John Koenig, astronaut."
Helena smiled. She was willing to play along. "Helena Russell. Nice to meet you, Commander." They shook hands. She rather liked how he refrained from taking advantage of his obvious strength.
"John, please. I suspect we'll be working together closely for the foreseeable future…" there was a wry, tired smile for the obvious, "and we had best start on the right foot. Helena."
She relaxed and smiled acceptance of the first name. So far, Victor had been right about this man.
~~~~~~~~
"To all sections Moonbase Alpha, this is a reminder. Complete amnesty will be provided for any surrendered items. We need all the resources we can muster. Items may be surrendered anonymously at Medical Center or to Security no questions asked for the remaining forty-eight hours."
~~~~~~~~
Helena stood in the background of Main Mission awaiting the start of the daily command staff meeting. She was pleased at what she saw. Twenty-four hours of rest had helped immensely and only Kano had had to be threatened with the sedative before he would leave his station.
"Has anything been turned it yet, Paul?" Sandra sat with her reports neatly held in her lap watching Paul gather his after turning off the Alpha-wide communication line. The 'scavenger hunt' had started yesterday on day twelve.
"Yes, I believe so. Professor Bergman turning in his rose plant seemed to be a good start."
Helena watched Sandra smile. "That was quite the sacrifice for him. He loves that plant."
"It was more of a symbolic gesture."
"Oh, I do not know Paul. Any plant or foodstuff not directly supervised by Hydroponics or Dietary was on the 'Verboten' list. Just because everyone but Gorski was aware of the Professor's…" Sandra blushed and trailed off as Bergman entered the room studying the reports he held.
Victor looked up at the sudden silence in the room. He smiled at the blushing Sandra. "Ah, am I subject of gossip now?"
"Not quite, Professor."
Helena watched as Paul tried to deflect any criticism from Sandra. "We were just commending your turning in your roses."
"Just so." Victor did not look like he was in the least bit upset. "Well, someone had to go set the example." Victor started to walk in her direction but paused near Sandra long enough to lean over and whisper something that caused the woman to chuckle. The senior scientist was smiling as he walked to the rear of the room.
"Helena, how are you doing, my dear?" They turned together and entered the Commander's office to await Koenig's arrival.
"Well, thank you, Victor. What did you tell Sandra?"
"Oh, just that Gorski wasn't aware that I had four pots of roses. And that I only turned in two."
Helena chuckled as Victor graciously held her chair for her.
"I could certainly use a laugh." Koenig entered from the hallway and sat down at the table with the other two. The remaining team members filtered in. And Simmonds.
"Oh, just an example of Victor's cunning."
Victor vaguely waved his arm when John looked at him. "I surrendered two of my rose plants at the start of the amnesty period to set the example. I trust there is a botanist or two who will enjoy them as much as I."
"And he kept two plants to 'enjoy' himself." Helena smiled gently at the older man. She could never begrudge her old friend that.
"Well, what has turned up at the twenty-four hour mark?" Koenig glanced about the table before settling his gaze on Helena.
Although Koenig said it lightly, Helena could hear the underlying seriousness. She glanced about the table. Only Alan was missing. She briefly refreshed her memory from the report in front of her. "Quite a bit, John. One of the young laundry techs turned in a book of pressed flowers and native plants given to her as a gift by her grandmother. The older woman was something of a self-taught botanist and included a wide range of plants indigenous to Central America. Our botanists almost had raptures over the seeds that were dried naturally. Given a little luck, we now have a decent range of Mexican and Spanish spices and herbs. One of the meteorologists turned in his small supply of spices and fresh herbs that arrived just before Breakaway. We may be able to cultivate a few that had seed heads still attached."
Victor jumped in at this point. He rested both elbows on the table and leaned forward in his enthusiasm. "I am amazed, John, at the ingenuity and downright sneakiness shown by many of our fellow Alphans. For some reason, people keep handing me things and then dashing off. I, but of course, have turned them over to security. I can tell you we now have an amazing range of fresh fruit and vegetables, all highly forbidden and all of the best quality, if somewhat overripe by now."
Both Helena and John smiled at Victor's delight. Everyone ignored Simmonds snort of disgust.
"Apples of a half-dozen varieties, oranges, tangelos, grapefruit and even a few lemons. Let me recall…" He tapped his fingers on his scalp. "I saw two kiwis, an avocado, a small cantaloupe, an even smaller watermelon, an ugly fruit and something quite purple that I have yet to identify. Also..." he continued before either Helena or John could get a word in, "dried peppers, a squash from the Middle East I cannot begin pronounce the name of, and some tiny, delicate green tomatoes from China."
"If the botanists can be successful with even–"
"And strawberries! Ah, sorry, Helena." Victor looked abashed at his rudeness.
Helena smiled her forgiveness as others present chuckled. She loved strawberries, too. "Along with the plants that we had established for Alpha's needs and plants originally designated for experiments, we have a much better chance for a varied, tasteful diet. I could wish for animal or fish protein, but…" she shrugged.
John nodded, pleased that his two senior advisors were so obviously happy. "What else has been turned in?"
"One of the more interesting finds was brought in by one of the pilots. I accepted it but am hesitant to use it unless we absolutely need to."
"Helena, if Alpha needs it, we use it." John stated firmly.
"Well, it is in the nature of a religious artifact. One of the pilots is an Ojibwa Indian and had brought an ear of multicolored Indian Corn grown by his grandfather. It holds religious significance to him, but he still surrendered it."
Victor looked interested, and as Helena knew he was by nature a committed agnostic, she doubted it was by the religious angle.
She continued. "Alpha has seed to grow wheat, corn, soy and barley so I simply question our need of this one ear."
"But Helena, our corn is homogeneously yellow. This one ear multiplies our genetic diversity many fold. If we can propagate it…" Victor's enthusiasm caused him to go rather deeper into the genetic minutia than the others present, excepting Helena, could follow. Simmonds yawned obviously and rudely causing Koenig to allow Victor to rattle on longer than he would have otherwise allowed.
Koenig watched the conversation between Helena and Victor until it came to an inconclusive conclusion. He turned to Sandra. "If Warren in hydroponics says our seed corn is viable," he waited while Sandra quickly rifled through her reports and then nodded yes, "then we will hold it in reserve for now."
Helena was pleased by that decision. Victor shrugged philosophically. She was about to bring up the necessary task of sorting through the dead's belongings when the door to the hallway opened and Alan entered appearing flushed and agitated. He was about to say something but then quickly checked himself and sat down.
Simmonds took the momentary distraction to speak up. His face held its usual distain for the other's efforts to turn the damaged moonbase into a viable long-term community. "John, these efforts are repetitious in the extreme. You are focusing your resources in the wrong direction…"
Helena watched with interest as those present, even Kano, to a person avoided eye contact with the commissioner and looked either at their reports or to Koenig for direction. Alan studiously stared out the viewports. Simmonds apparently realized it to. He stopped speaking, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in contempt. "Well then, perhaps you all would rather Mr. Carter here speak as he appeared so earnest to do so just a moment ago." He made a show of turning his chair to face the obviously angry pilot.
"I'll wait my turn."
Simmonds frowned at Alan's not so subtle absence of any honorific.
"That's enough," Koenig frowned. "Doctor, I believe you had more to say?"
"Yes." She glanced around the room and noted everyone's polite attention, and Simmond's hostile glare. "We need to organize searches of the quarters and work facilities of those who have died. I would suggest working in pairs…"
"Just to keep everyone honest?" interrupted Simmonds smugly.
Helena kept her professional mask firmly in place. "To be able to provide emotional support. It will not be easy going through personal belongings."
Koenig spoke quickly to pre-empt another snide comment from the commissioner. "Do so. Alright, section reports…"
In unconscious cooperation, reports were given quickly and succinctly with little pause to allow Simmonds a chance to get a word in edgewise. As everyone left, it was Alan who stayed behind to speak with Koenig. A quick look in her direction caused Helena to stay also. No one spoke until Simmonds had left.
"He's a problem, Commander," Alan blurted out. I've kicked him out of Reconnaissance so often he should have permanent boot marks on his arse by now." Alan's face showed the utter disgust in which he held the man.
Koenig's lips twitched in a smile. "Ignore him, Alan. He's still trying to fit in. Now, what had you so hot and bothered when you arrived?"
Helena watched with growing interest as Alan lifted the edge of his shirt and pulled out a small bag with what appeared to be leaves. Helena sniffed as a familiar odor came from the bag Alan held out to them.
Helena felt a moment of pure surprise. "Alan, where did you get this?" She took the bag and inspected the contents closely.
"I'd already told several of my lads to start going through the stuff of our mates who didn't come back."
Helena nodded in sympathy. Reconnaissance had been hit disproportionately hard among the fatalities of Breakaway.
"I caught Coleman acting sneaky-like coming out of Winsop's quarters. When I asked him why, he tried to hide this." Alan gestured to the bag. "He's grounded until you clear him Helena. I'm not having any druggie flying in one of my birds until I know he's clean."
"What is it?" Koenig asked looking at Helena.
"Cannabis."
"Marijuana?" Koenig looked appalled. "Is that why some of the pilots didn't make to back? They were stoned?"
"I sure hope as hell not." Alan paced to the viewports and back, obviously angry and distressed. "We can't afford any stupid choices like that." He pointed at the bag Helena held.
"We'll search the quarters of the pilots who didn't come back, but it will be just me and a few others I trust. I've had security put seals on the quarters and lockers until I say otherwise. Doc, will you check out the pilots? If any of them are incapacitated, I'll ground them so hard that…"
"Of course, Alan. But, you know, this is not completely a disaster."
Both men looked at her in frank amazement. Alan had to consciously think to close his gaping mouth.
"Properly refined, the marinol in cannabis can actually treat several medical conditions. Glaucoma and severe nausea for a beginning. We will have to carefully supervise this, but I believe we can consider this a good find."
"You mean I'll just have to let Coleman get off free on amnesty?" Alan demanded with some heat. He was not at all pleased at that thought.
Koenig shook his head. "No. You said he tried to hide it. That doesn't count."
"Good. I'll get my maintenance chief to help set up some reliable teams we pick and we'll start going through quarters. And one more thing, Doctor."
Helena looked up from her exam of the bag hunting for seeds.
"What do we do with the extra stuff we don't need right now? The clothes and personal effects and all?" Alan's voice became bleak as did his expression.
"For now, focus on a search for perishables, or for anything we cannot safely store. Laundry can collect and recycle clothes and linens while books, DVDs and the like can go to the rec center."
"And the pictures and letters and, well, private things?"
Helena paused and looked at Koenig. Alan's grief was echoed on John's face. She took a deep breath. There had been so much death. "We will store those individually by person and set them aside in a designated room. We will not forget those who died."
"Right." Alan seemed satisfied with that and left.
~~~~~~~~
Sandra stood on the threshold to Judith Resnick's quarters. She really did not look forward to doing this, but she would rather a friend go through Judy's things than a stranger. She just hoped Alpha's former chief pilot would have felt the same. Her death at Breakaway had been a huge blow to the morale of the surviving pilots. Luckily for Alpha, Alan's presence as head of the Meta Probe astronaut training had him at the right spot at the right time to fill the vital position. Sandra had always respected Judy, and by no small means envied her her success as an astronaut. The talented pilot had done Sandra more than a few favors over the years and this was a small way Sandra could say thank you.
"Come on, Sandra. Sooner started, the sooner we'll be through."
Sandra felt Paul touch her lightly and encouragingly on the back. She nodded at him and led the way in. She stopped about two meters in and looked around the main room. No one had been in to pick up since Breakaway and things were knocked askew and littering the floor. Like most pilots, Judy appeared to have traveled light, but there were still personal effects to gather and treat with the respect due her kind memory.
"Why don't you take her closet and clothes press, I'll start out here." Paul said. He handed Sandra two of the ubiquitous small packing cubes he was carrying, keeping the rest for himself. Sandra headed toward the back of the quarters and walked to the closet. It was quick work to go through the orange-sleeved uniforms as there were no pockets. Sandra folded them neatly and set them atop the shoes for Laundry to recycle. Underwear was similar sorted and grouped together for Laundry to store against future need. Hairbrushes, make-up and similar would go to Supplies.
It was in the top drawers that Sandra found Judy's 'treasures'. Sandra gently opened the folded construction paper on top and paused when she saw the crayon drawing of galloping and jumping horses frisking about the green, tree-filled pasture. The happy yellow sun in the upper corner sported a smiling face and rays that reached across the sky to touch the puffy clouds. That many of the horses had necks that made them look more like llamas made Sandra smile sadly, and she caught the tear before it could splash on the paper and spoil the childish joy she saw before her. She turned over the picture and found the dedication… To Aunt Judy, I love you! Don't forget me on the moon! R. Sandra wondered who 'R' was. She set the picture aside carefully. There were several letters Sandra did not feel it needful to read and then a thin photo album. Sandra leafed through the two dozen or so pictures, most were of family with children of varying ages. One small girl showed up frequently on horseback. 'R' perhaps? The last picture was different. It showed a young Judy wearing a deep blue flight suit and a huge smile and sitting in a blimp's gondola, proudly at the helm. They were just casting off from a huge black airdock and headed up into a blue, clear sky. She looked so very happy.
Sandra closed the small album and placed it along with the letters and the colored picture in a small storage box. She affixed the label reading Judith Resnick, Pilot and sealed it shut.
~~~~~~~~
"To all sections Moonbase Alpha, this is a reminder. Complete amnesty will be provided for any surrendered items, be they foodstuff or recreational drugs. Items may be surrendered anonymously at Medical Center or to Security no questions asked. There are twenty-four hours remaining."
~~~~~~~~
Again, the team assembled for the daily meeting. There were some smiles and even a rude comment or two for the more unusual items turned in such as adult toys meant for solo or couple enjoyment and a pair of old-time padded handcuffs. Speculations were quite lively concerning the latter.
Victor was the last to arrive. He walked in holding a small irregular grayish ball measuring seven or eight centimeter wide that looked as if it had sticks pushed through it.
"John, I'm sorry for holding up the meeting." He sat down still turning the fluffy ball over in his hands, the plastic sealable bag that had held it tucked under his arm. "I was handed this by a young woman. She kept apologizing and then simply dashed away."
"Who was it, Victor?"
"I don't rightly know. She had an American accent that I recall from my visits to Atlanta, but I simply do not know where I've seen her. Odd."
"Alright then, what is it, Victor?" John asked with a tone of tolerant amusement. Helena and John shared a smile for their friend's typical behavior. Victor loved a mystery of any sort.
"I do believe it is a fiber of some sort. Perhaps cotton by its feel."
Sandra had stood up and walked around the table. "May I see, Professor?"
"Certainly, my dear."
Sandra turned the puffy mass over in her hands. She looked up with an excited expression on her face. "It is raw cotton, still attached to its pod. See, there are dried seed pods in amongst the cotton wads." She picked up the storage bag from the table and shook it lightly. "And some here. Dr. Russell, cotton." She returned the fiber to its bag and handed it to Helena.
If the seeds were viable, and if they found a place to grow them, the potential of this find was a godsend.
Koenig brought the meeting back around to the daily update as the door opened to allow Simmonds entrance. As there were no chairs left at the table, on in the room for that matter, he would have to stand. The insult was not lost on the commissioner who glared at Koenig and left in a huff, all without a word being said in the room.
Koenig looked at Alan blandly. "Did you have anything to do with the chair count?"
"Maybe."
The Commander chose to ignore the random snicker or two and the meeting continued.
~~~~~~~~~
"Alright, this is the last pilot's quarters we have to empty. I'll be bloody happy when this is through." Alan picked up a couple of storage cubes and tossed them over to Fraser. The red-sleeved man caught them easily with a smile.
Alan noted that Bill Fraser went to work without hesitation. He didn't know this young pilot all that well, but he had a security clearance from the RAF that endorsed his trustworthiness. Those that did know him among Eagle Maintenance spoke quite highly of the lad.
The room went fairly quickly. A goodly collection of CDs and DVDs were placed in the box for the rec center. And there was a decent collection of computer game chips that Alan saw had been jerry-rigged to be played off Computer. The clothes and personal effects were few and dealt with expediently.
"Hey, Captain? Would you come get a look at this?"
Alan tossed the last pair of shoes into the clothes cube and walked to the front room. "Yeah, what?"
"Look. Now I know those aren't regulation."
Alan looked where Bill pointed. He had to kneel down to look on the bottom shelf of the room divider.
"Well I'll be damned. So that is where he got them from."
"What, Captain?"
"Kyle always did throw a good party. Always had these great hors d'oeurves. Called them 'sushi.' Turns out he wasn't lying."
Alan scanned the shelf space and carefully noted the homemade restraints Kyle had used to keep the good-sized fish tank from accidentally being tipped over. The angle it was placed would have kept it virtually out of sight from any casual observers. The filter's pump and all the necessary tubing and power wires had been neatly hidden behind some bric-a-brac. Now Alan knew why Kyle always had music playing… to cover the noise of the fish tank. Crouching lower Alan did a head count. Inside were five brownish-orange fish. And two half fish.
"Well, we know how these guys survived. See if you can find the fishfood, Bill, and we'll let Dr. Russell know. Who knows, maybe we still have a breeding pair out of this lot. They sure do make a tasty snack."
~~~~~~~~
"To all sections Moonbase Alpha, this is a final reminder. Complete amnesty will be provided for any surrendered items for one additional hour. After this punitive measures are risked for any illegal items found."
~~~~~~~~
"So, John, what will you do if something is found out after the amnesty period ends?" Victor strolled over to the table to await the arrival of the others for the daily meeting.
"I don't know. Cleaning latrines has always been the approved method of punishment, but I suspect peer pressure will be much more effective. If Alpha finds out you're hiding something we can all benefit from, I imagine your life will become rough for a while."
The doors from Main Mission and the hallway opened and people arrived. Koenig noticed for the first time that there were smiles on faces. Koenig scanned the room and then closed the doors. It looked like Simmonds wasn't going to come, even though there was a chair waiting for him.
Helena did not wait for a formal calling to order. As soon as everyone sat she smiled and launched into a recitation of all the items turned in over the preceding day.
"The rush has tapered off over the past few hours. People now are stopping by with only a few things they are just happening 'to find' as they set their quarters to rights. We now have grapes with seeds, a nice selection of different varieties of rice, as well as a small arsenal of antibiotics and over the counter cold and allergy medicine to use while the chemists get their production facilities up and running. Sandra's skills inventory has even turned up some needed talents we'll be able to use. John, things are finally looking up."
There were smiles and nods from around the table.
Victor leaned forward to add his bit. "And John, when Alan turned over his aquatic find to the aquaculturalists they reminded us of a resource I believe we have overlooked."
Koenig looked expectantly to Alan. The tale of the Oscar fish had brought smiles across Alpha and had reminded Victor that there had been a division of the ILC sponsored by the Japanese government to pursue research into growing harvestable fish on Alpha. Perhaps as a prologue to developing a Moonbase Beta staffed primarily with peoples from the Asian counties. Their dietary needs would be different and a fish protein stable would be important. The supplies to build the tanks for growing the fish had been sent up as well as the water filtration supplies and various light sources although set up was not quite complete on all units. And most important, fish eggs had arrived the week prior to Breakaway and the foresight of a now-dead tech had found them safely stored. There appeared to be several species of fish eggs and just now the good news had come that there appeared to be viable eggs remaining of each species. This project had just become a priority.
"Yeah, Commander, along with all those fish-growing supplies, Judy and her teams also shifted the supplies needed to build an autonomous research facility for them. We found the records of where they stashed enough supplies to build a facility not that much smaller than our residential wing. Fiberoptics, concrete, computer components, the whole lot. I sent an Eagle out today and it looks like most of what was supposed to be there is still there. We'll start hauling it in as soon as you give the word."
Koenig looked amazed. No where had he come across this information, and Simmonds certainly hadn't volunteered it. To be charitable, maybe he didn't know? Koenig intended to find out. With the supplies intended to build a new wing, they could at the very least make substantial repairs and reinforcements to Alpha, and perhaps even expand in the future. Things were absolutely looking up.
~~~~~~~~
Helena was tired but satisfied. The conclusion of the scavenger hunt had netted some interesting finds that they were only now realizing. And saving those fish and eggs before they all died had been almost providential. Helena could feel some of the stress lift from her shoulders.
She wanted to check on her injured patients one more time and then she could get some rest for herself as soon as Mathias came on duty. Behind her, she heard the main Medical Center doors open. Perhaps Bob was coming in early which would certainly be like him.
"Helena, am I too late?"
She turned around and was surprised to see the Commander standing there and wearing one of the cold-weather insulated silver jackets.
"For what, John?"
"The amnesty period. I meant to get here earlier."
"I suppose I can authorize a one-time ten minute extension." Helena smiled but was puzzled at the furtive look on the Commander's face. Certainly he wouldn't be surrendering anything scandalous, would he?
"I could have turned this into Security, but thought it might just have medicinal purposes. Like the marijuana."
Helena was now frankly concerned. John did not seem the type to condone drug use. She watched as he carefully looked around the empty room and then surreptitiously reached into the pocket of the jacket he was wearing. He pulled his hand out. She could see it was covering a rectangular, brown package.
"If I remember my biology correctly, the cocoa plant can be very... versatile."
Helena was beginning to worry. Did he mean coca or cocoa? Could he possibly mean cocaine? Treating someone as he went through that withdrawal would be unpleasant. And she would be very disappointed if that person was John Koenig.
"And if this never made it past the doctor I surrendered it to, well, I'll never tell."
Now Helena was confused at the impish look in his eyes. He held his hand out for hers and then placed the small rectangular object in her grasp. By touch, she thought she might just know what it was.
"I'll see you tomorrow at the command conference, Doctor. Things are going well enough we might just make them every other day from now on." He grinned a small lopsided grin at her and turned to leave, taking off the silver jacket as he did so. She glanced down to what she held to discover her tactile suspicion was correct. And that she had thankfully misunderstood his initial implications. She quickly looked back up only to see the door close on the receding figure in the black-sleeved shirt.
She stared at the door as she absently turned the small brown package about in her hands. He was a surprising man. Well, she still had a few more patients to check on before she could call it quits. She would keep his 'contraband' for someone who needed a special treat. She walked to her office and hid the slightly squashed Snickers bar in her desk drawer.
Picking up her stethoscope to hang it about her neck, she briefly paused as an errant and completely unprofessional thought ran though her mind.
He certainly did have the most beautiful blue eyes.
1 August 2006
MGK