2954-05-27 – Tales from the Inbox: The Fugitive of the Zenith Treader 

It is interesting to me that this account appears to be completely candid; it displays the submitters in a less than glowing light. Their judgement and mechanisms for solving problems are checkered at best, and they seem to know it, despite also insisting their ship’s reputation is clean. 

The biggest example of this rather frank self-reflection is the relationship between the skipper and her helmsman, and it is for this reason more than any other I believe that the submitters are the people they claim to be, and that their decision not to anonymize the account was deliberate. I am afraid I don’t think it will be good for business. 

Gareth Glass and Ellia Kossner found that Cabin number nine, the one at the far aft of the lower deck, which had the gently curved hab-space pressure hull as one of its bulkheads. Being out of the way and having the view out its viewports blocked by the extensible reactor heat-sinks much of the time, it wasn’t even used as a guest berth for passengers. Gareth hadn’t ever seen the inside. 

This time, it seemed he wasn’t going to see the inside either. The door controls emitted a flat buzz when either of them tried to open it. Even when the skipper used the command override, the door refused to open; it repeated the sound and displayed a numeric fault code on its tiny display. 

“Well then.” Ellia sighed. “Let’s get the techs to open it. Guess we’re finding out which of them is double-timing pretty quick.” 

Gareth held up a hand, then looked down the corridor towards the stairs to make sure nobody was within earshot, then took Ellia by the arm and led her away from the locked cabin. “It’s Lowell. But we don’t want to open it.” 

“Oh?” The skipper arched one eyebrow. 

“We’re a full day from the holding orbit. No knowing how long after that they’ll make us wait. When Lowell knows she’s busted, do you think she’ll accept fate and go quietly?” 

Ellia tapped the side of her head and smiled. “Remind me why I’m in command again, Gareth?” 

“Because you own the ship, Ellia.” 

“Right.” She sucked on her teeth for a few moments, as if pondering the situation. “I think you’re right. But we’re going to have a devil of a time keeping this quiet after a patrol ship is visible out the viewports. And if they do make us wait...” 

Gareth nodded. “I’ll put our belly toward the military ship when it arrives. Open the cargo bay. Can’t hurt to make it clear we’ve got nothing to hide. Maybe there are one or two things we can do to keep her distracted, too.” He’d thought of at least one, in fact, but he hated it. 

“Think you can get them to accept that we’ve got someone and something to turn in?” 

“Probably not. We annoyed them too much as it is. Once we’re in range for immediate two-way comms tomorrow, maybe.” 

“In that case, your shift ends now. We both need to be on duty four hours before rendezvous.” With that, Ellia went up the stairs to the upper deck. 

Gareth stood there, frowning, for a few seconds. He had an inkling that the Skipper knew what had occurred to him, and was freeing him up to put his thoughts into motion, without sanctioning it directly. She normally let him come up with all the bright ideas, and think the worst of people, but Gareth knew from long experience that she was capable of taking on this duty if she needed. Perhaps she knew, too, that Gareth would refuse on principle, if he was asked to do what he was now contemplating. 

With a sigh, Gareth checked the shift roster. Lowell was finishing her personal-time shift and headed into a sleep shift in a couple hours. She’d be on leisure-time as the rendezvous approached, and no doubt she’d be nervously checking every indication allowed to her that might spell trouble. But if for some reason she were not to sleep during her sleep-shift, she would then be obligated to ask (and be granted by her obliging Captain) a change of schedule, which would put her on duty (and easily dispatched to some intensive task deep in the ship’s innards) during the rendezvous. 

That was where Gareth’s terrible idea came in. He needed to give her something more interesting to do than sleep, something that would put her off thinking about her smuggled cargo, whatever it was. 

“Fine, fine.” Gareth said to himself. After dashing off a heads-up to the skipper to approve any schedule change requests Lowell might send in, he set off up to the main deck to see where she might be. 

It turned out Lowell was in the lounge, the broad compartment just below the command deck which projected from Zenith Treader’s ship’s upper bow. She was wearing tight-fitting exercise attire rather than her uniform, and her hair was coming loose from its tight bun. A food-fab beverage of some sort in hand, she was gazing out the window, ignoring Sung, who was reading on his slate in the nest of lounge-chairs at the back of the space. 

“Evening, Sung. Lowell.” Gareth waved to each as he approached the food-fab and ordered a coffee. 

Sung raised an eyebrow – she knew the crew schedule by heart, and would know Gareth was supposed to be on duty – but said nothing. She didn’t much like Gareth, but she knew well enough that he wasn’t one to shirk his duties. 

“Isn’t this still your work shift?” Lowell asked. Evidently she’d mastered the schedule, too. 

“Theoretically.” Gareth shrugged. “Skipper sent me off-shift early.” 

Lowell frowned. “Why?” 

“Didn’t say, but I can guess.” Gareth pointed up to the command deck over their heads. “She’s probably going to call in a favor to get us docking clearance faster.” 

Sung frowned at this. Ellia Kossner was not above the back channels, of course, but it was strange to hear such a thing spoken openly aboard. Given that she and Estrada hadn’t socialized much with the rest of the crew on their first run aboard, Lowell probably didn’t sense that something was out of place. 

“Oh. That’s... good, I suppose.” Lowell took a step closer to Gareth. “Isn’t it?” 

“For the timetable, it is. But we’ll pay for it later I’m sure.” 

Sung muttered something about needing to get ready for her shift and left the lounge. Lowell watched her go, then turned back to Gareth. “She doesn’t like you.” 

“Nope.” Gareth smiled. “Never has. But she’s good at what she does, and I’m good at what I do, and we work on opposite ends of the ship.” 

Lowell laughed a little at this, then finished off her drink and tossed the bottle into the receptacle just as Gareth bent to collect his coffee from the machine. “You know, I don’t think we’ve been off-shift and awake together once this entire voyage.” 

Gareth nodded. “That’s how the schedule worked out. Sorry it put you on duty with Sung while the skipper and I are asleep.” 

“I don’t mind the quiet, mostly.” Lowell shrugged. “But it does get a little lonely sometimes.” 

Gareth nodded. “I can imagine. But hey. For the next...” He checked his chronometer. “Two hours and five minutes, I’ve got nothing planned. Got a favorite holo-drama that’s about that long?” 

Lowell brightened and nodded. “I think I do.” 

Gareth grinned, but inwardly he suppressed a cringe. He hated to be getting to know the woman under these circumstances, but then, it was for the good of the ship, and the rest of the crew.