Ark

42

From the ramp, Holle followed Kelly across a mesh floor and through a brightly lit chamber, before they joined yet another line for access to the higher decks.

Holle looked up through layers of flooring. This crew hull was an upright cylinder. In fact the hull was a remodeling of one of the big propellant tanks of the Ares V booster, and a relic of the project’s dysfunctional design process; when the decision was made to scrap the use of Ares boosters and fly with Orion, the engineers had scrambled to make use of the components of the abandoned Ares technology. The hull was divided into decks by mesh panels that could be disassembled to open up the interior space. For now the decks were set out with the crew’s fold-out acceleration couches. Down through the center of the mesh flooring came a pole, like a fireman’s pole. One by one the crew were climbing metal rungs bolted to the pole’s side.

They reached that central ladder. Kelly went up first, Holle following, climbing up through the hull.

The hull’s interior architecture was modeled on what had been proven to work on the space station, with color schemes and lighting strips designed to help you orient yourself in zero gravity, and a variety of fold-out stores, workstations and consoles. There were Velcro pads and handholds everywhere, in readiness for free fall. For now the only important functionality was on the twin bridges, situated in the nose of each crew hull, and the workstation screens all showed the impassive, reassuring face of Gordo Alonzo, with a blurred view of the Pikes Peak launch control center behind him, and a countdown clock.

But Gordo’s voice was drowned out. On each deck there was chaos. People were in the couches, tightening their harnesses and plugging in comms and waste systems. But Holle saw others arguing over seats, waving tokens in each other’s faces. While most people were in standard-issue flight suits as she was, a significant number weren’t. She didn’t even recognize a good number of the people on board.

She called up to Kelly, “Where’s security? How the hell did these people get aboard?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Kelly called down, climbing the ladder as determinedly as she’d climbed the ramp. “There is no security any more, Holle, not in here. It’s up to us now. We’ll sort it out in space. This is your deck, right?”

“Yes.” Kelly had to go on to the bridge. “Have a good trip, Kel.”

Kelly grinned, exhilarated, fearless. “This is what I waited all my life for. You bet it will be a good one. See you beyond the moon.” She clambered on, heading up out of sight, while Holle stepped off the ladder.

She found her own couch easily enough, one of an empty pair. Your couch was numbered to match your boarding token. The couch was a simple foldaway affair of plastic and foam, but it had been molded to the shape of her body, and she’d got used to it in training; she settled into it now with relief, and tucked her pack into the space underneath.

She saw Theo Morell, the general’s son, trying to climb down the fireman’s pole, moving in a different direction from everybody else, in a coverall too big for him. Holle called over, “Theo. Hey, Theo!”

He looked around, confused by the noise. Then he saw her and came over hesitantly. “Holle?”

“You look lost.”

“Somebody’s in my couch,” he said miserably. “Up on Deck Nine. I showed her my token, the number on it, but she just said-”

“Never mind.” She looked at his anguished face. She ought to hate him; he had taken Mel’s place. “Here. Take this one, beside me.”

“But it doesn’t match my number.” He dug in his pocket. “I have the token-”

“Things have got a bit chaotic. Just sit down, strap in, and if whoever has the number for that seat comes along-well, we can deal with that when it happens. Look, put your pack under the couch. You have your pack, don’t you?”

“I lost it,” he said. “I got knocked off the pole.”

“God, Theo, you’re a clown. Well, you’ve got years to find it before we get to Earth II. Just pray it doesn’t hit somebody on the head when we launch. Come on, sit down and strap in.”

Hesitantly at first, but then with relief, he obeyed her and clicked home his harness. They were lying on their backs, as if in dentists’ chairs, staring at the deck above. Somewhere above their heads, the noise of an argument over a couch grew louder.