chapter 4
GENERALLY A MECHANIC
Mei Lo’s answer to Jessamyn’s impassioned plea arrived three days later. Crusty was the one to notice it first. When Jess arrived
for morning rations, he gave her the news.
Her heart seemed to skip beats. “What did she say?” asked Jessamyn.
“Weren’t addressed to me,” said Crusty. “Figured you should be the one to read it.”
Jess dashed to the ship’s helm and sat in her brother’s seat, searching for the communiqué. Crusty followed her at a slower pace.
The news was not good.
“Well?” asked Crusty, his gravelly voice laced with what might have been hope.
“She said, ‘No,’” Jess replied. She felt suddenly cold, as though an icy breath had passed through the bridge. How could the
Secretary have said no? Jessamyn’s argument had been logical, impassioned, and complete. She shook her head in disbelief.
No? It wasn’t possible.
Crusty grunted. “There’s no and there’s no,” he said. “Which flavor of negatory would you call this one?”
Jessamyn couldn’t answer. She rose, gestured to the view screen and murmured, “Read it for yourself,” before excusing herself
from the bridge.
Jessamyn experienced a sudden yearning for the quarters that had belonged to her brother—the place where he had suffered his
great anguish.
They weren’t going to let her rescue him.
She slammed the flat of her palm against the hatch button and entered the quiet room. Her body assumed the compact position in
which she’d found Ethan after his days locked in the room alone. Seat on the ground, knees pulled up close to her body, arms
wrapped tightly around her shins, hand grasping opposite wrist. She didn’t hum aloud. She didn’t need to. Her entire being throbbed
with the moaning sound she’d heard her brother make in this place.
Mei Lo said no.
Jessamyn replayed MCC’s reasons in her mind: insufficient fuel load capacity, insufficient time for sanitization and prep, insufficient
time for assembly of qualified crew. And worst of all: insufficient likelihood of successful outcome of rescue of stranded crew.
Jess sat upon the floor of her brother’s former quarters, trying to find in her curled position the comfort her brother derived from it.
But she was not her brother. Jessamyn was made for action and not stillness. She rose and flew at the wall, fists outstretched. She
pounded against the unresponsive surface, hurling accusations of MCC’s cowardice and ingratitude at the unfeeling barrier.
Tears came at last, angry and hot, and Jessamyn didn’t try to stop them this time. After her tears, exhausted and defeated, she sat
at the small captain’s desk and eased her feelings by composing a letter to Pavel.
Dear Pavel,
You know the feeling you get when you enter an airlock only to find yourself stuck inside because someone forgot to scrub the solars
and now there’s not enough power to open either door and you’re just stuck until someone comes to find you or a storm blows the
dust off the solars long enough for them to reset the doors? That’s how I feel today. Stuck between airlock doors. With a raging dust
storm on its way and no hope of getting out for the foreseeable future.
Actually, you probably have no idea what I’m talking about. Why would you? I don’t think I saw a single airlock when I was on Earth.
How can I describe how I am feeling right now? I feel so trapped. Do you understand trapped? Maybe people don’t ever feel that
way on Earth. It happens pretty often on my world, though, I can tell you.
I never thought I’d feel trapped out in space. I mean, I’ve got the entire universe on all sides of me for as far as anyone can see and
then a lot farther. I’ve always felt free when I fly. But not today.
Oh, Pavel. What am I going to do?
Mei Lo says she cannot support a return mission.
I want to rescue my brother. I want things to be normal again. Is that so much to ask? I never thought the day would come when I
wouldn’t trust Mei Lo’s judgment. But she is wrong about this. So very wrong.
I’m sorry for ranting. I think, though, that if anyone can understand how I am feeling, it would be you.
What am I going to do?
Your friend,
Jessamyn Jaarda
The following three rations, Crusty did no more than nod to Jessamyn as he chewed his way through the pungent nutrition bars. On
the fourth day, Jess raised her eyes to consider the quiet man before her.
“Crusty?”
He met her eyes with his.
“What am I going to do?”
“Same as you always have, kid. Go with your gut.”
Jessamyn swallowed against the lump swelling her throat. “My gut’s telling me to steal the ship as soon as we touch down on Mars.”
Crusty chuckled. “Well, maybe you oughtn’t to go with that particular notion.”
“Is the Secretary General right?” asked Jess.
“Depends what you’re referring to, don’t it?”
“I mean, about the fuel payload. I calculated the ship could make it, given a turnaround of seven days or less. After that … ”
Crusty shrugged. “The ship maybe could do it. I came up with five days or less when I looked at the numbers. But Mei Lo’s right to
mention the air filter. Without a proper scrub, they ain’t much use after a month in space. You don’t want to go out there for fifty, sixty
days if your air’s gunked up to where you can’t breathe it.”
“That’s an engineering problem, isn’t it?” Jess looked hopefully at Crusty.
“Reckon so,” he agreed. “But them other problems ain’t gonna disappear with wishful thinking either. Finding a qualified crew ain’t
no engineering issue. And she’s right about the risk, too, kid. There’s no guarantee that says you’ll come back successful.”
“Well, I can guarantee I’ll fail if they don’t even let me try,” Jessamyn said, scuffing her boot along the floor.
“Don’t get mad, kid. Get smart. There’s more’n one way to overhaul a leaky water reclamation unit.”
Crusty’s odd illustration made Jess grunt out a small laugh. She straightened up and stared at the mechanic. “But if I could find a
crew, those other issues aren’t insurmountable, are they? I mean, not for you, surely?”
Crusty ran a hand along one side of his face. Scratched his chin. “Well, I reckon where there’s a mechanical problem, there’s
generally a mechanic as can solve it.”
Jessamyn smiled. “I’m sure you could do it. I bet you two month’s water rations for that orchid.”
“Now you’re just plain teasing me, kid.”
Jess smiled. She knew his mind was already working on it.