14: Tink

Tink dashed herself around the captain's chair and fled the bridge, then chastised herself for not checking system diagnostics before leaving. It would have at least given her an idea of what the problem was. But when her ship needed her, she listened. She debated stopping to check the console outside the door, but as she got closer, the screen flickered and dimmed. Something was very wrong.

Racking her brain for possibilities, she turned into the central corridor at a run, ricocheting off the far wall and bumping right into Severn, who was coming out of his room. She pushed past him, ignoring the question written on his face, and flew towards the stairs down to the engine room.

"Cass, what's wrong?" She could barely hear Cass' reply over the sounds of sirens, but she caught the worrisome stutter.

"Theeere's a pro...problem with the algal conversion sysss....tem." As Tink swerved into the corridor of algae tanks, she came face to face with the problem. Or knees to floor, as she slipped in water slick with green goo.

Tink shook her head. "Cass, shut off the alarms." Cass didn't answer, and the sirens kept up their caterwaul. But underneath the wail, she heard the timbre of running water. Examining the tanks, the ones nearest her were fine, still full of water and bright green algae. But it was only a matter of time until they followed the others further along: the level in those tanks was dropping, losing algae and the aerated, nutrient-rich water the plants needed to live.

Her knee throbbed and her feet continued trying to slide out from under her as she scrabbled along the aisle towards the nearest safety valve. Cursing whoever had designed the ship, she made a mental note to replace the tile in the algae corridor with the same honeycomb grating as in the engine room.

"What should I do?" a voice behind her said as a strong hand gripped her elbow and hauled her up against a bare chest. An unruly lock of hair fell across her face, and she tucked it behind her ear with a slime-coated hand. Looking up, she saw Alek's expression was relaxed despite the water that gushed into the corridor.

"Shut off the valves between the tanks." Tink shouted to be heard over the sounds of sirens, burbling water and Cass' stuttering pronouncements. She pointed to the red valve handle. "We need to protect what algae we have left until we figure out the problem."

She turned away, going to the next one on the right side, hoping he would follow her lead on the left. She got the next two valves shut, but she slipped again, ending up on her knees. It's too far, she thought as she watched the water levels fall.

Unless... She threw herself headlong, sliding through the goo. When she grasped at the piping running along the bottom of the tanks to stop herself, her hand slipped. She slid too far. Reaching out in a last-ditch grab, relief coursed through her as she felt metal in her fingers. Holding tight, she pulled herself back and turned the valve as quickly as she could.

With a final glug, the flow of algae and mineral-rich water slowed to a trickle then stopped. Strands of wet hair clung to Tink's face as she tried to tuck them behind her ear. Giving up, she traced the lines from the tank to the algal converter, her fingers catching on filaments of algae. Under the flickering overhead lights, which were not considered essential in an emergency, her eyes scanned every well-known inch, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. When she reached the connection to the converter, she squinted. The gasket pushed out from the joint. She frowned at a bulge in the pipe. Pipes didn't blow in her engine. And she'd checked over the whole thing when she'd replaced the manifold.

"What happened?" Alek asked from just over her shoulder, his warm breath whispering in her ear.

Tink didn't look at him, but instead tipped her head sideways. "I...don't know." Her teeth chattered as she spoke despite being drenched in warm, briny water. Leaning forward to peer at the joint, she probed it with a finger, then pulled back to clutch her arms around her torso as a shiver passed through her. She glanced at Alek. His pyjama pants clung to him, as soaked as her own clothes, while he stood barefoot beside her. But he seemed fine. His arms rested at his sides rather than being wrapped around himself, even though he didn't appear to have an ounce of body fat to keep him warm. She shivered again. "Can you get the tigger from the main engine room?" she asked.

He took off at a jog, his feet kicking up little splashes. Tink frowned — he had no trouble staying upright, and he was gone before she could tell him what a tigger was. Her shoulders slumped, and she turned back to the converter...she'd tell him it was the spot welder when he came back empty-handed. She peered at the connections, still baffled. As she poked at the pipe again, she noticed the tips of her fingers had gone white.

Shock. She forced herself to breathe deeply, in and out, and reminded herself that the water was warm. She was warm. There was still algae in the tanks. Before long, splashes coming back down the corridor announced Alek's return.

He handed her the spot welder. She looked at it then at him. "You know what a tigger is?"

He paused, pulling back a bit. "My sister liked to repair old vehicles."

"Hmm, don't we all?" Tink turned away, all her focus on patching the joint and getting the ship operational. Just as she finished the patch, blowing on it to cool the adhesive, the lights went out. There was silence in the dark for a terrifying handful of seconds. Another quiver passed through her as a chill settled under her skin despite standing in warm, salty water — the cold of being dead in deep space. Then the emergency lights kicked in.

Tink glanced up at Alek. With the planes of his face highlighted in red, he looked like one of those masked monsters from Goru theatre, silent and demonic.

Taking a deep breath before her teeth chattered again, she held out her hand. "We should find the captain."

"Why did the pipe blow?" the captain asked, grasping the back of the chair, her knuckles white. They'd all gathered in the common room for a debriefing. Tink shivered from cold this time — the shock had worn off but the water soaking her clothes had started to cool. Alek stood beside her, leaning on the counter. She inched closer, grateful for the heat radiating from him.

"I don't know." Tink's voice was quiet as she examined the pattern of droplets on the floor. Alek shifted, and she felt his hand sliding along the counter behind her. She kept looking down, running her wet shoe through a small puddle. Strands of limp curls fell in front of her face.

"And why don't we have lights?" Kandi's face appeared diabolic in the red glow of the emergency lighting.

"It's a non-essential system." Alek's tone was smooth but serious. Tink glanced at him, surprised by him speaking so knowledgeably, and without derision, about her ship. "Main lights shut down to conserve power until the generator is at baseline capacity again. You might have noticed the drop in temperature. Unless you're a Siriun muskokan, you'll want to layer up for a while."

"But we have power on the bridge," Ish said, then lifted his mug. "And coffee."

"Coffee is essential," Rebeka said, grasping her own mug more tightly. "Especially in times of trouble." She took a sip then continued, turning to Tink. "So how long until we're at baseline capacity?"

Tink shrugged, glancing around at the faces of her crewmates. "I don't know. 5 days, maybe 10." Rebeka peered at her, a frown pulling at the corners of her lips. Tink dropped her gaze to the floor, eyebrows pulling together. "It's just a patch job. Assuming it doesn't blow again...." She lifted a shoulder. "It depends how much algae we lost. How quickly we can regenerate."

"There must be some way to get it to grow more quickly." There was an edge to Severn's voice. She tipped her head to look at him, lifting just her eyes. "What does it need to regenerate?" he asked, his voice low, as he came to stand beside her.

On her other side, Alek's arms came to cross over his chest. "Time."

"No, not necessarily." Tink tipped her head the other way. "Usually, the generator is a closed system, needing very little to keep it ticking along. But..." She bit her lip and glanced at Rebeka, knowing the captain wouldn't like the idea that she'd come up with. But the captain is a pragmatist.

Tink stood up taller and turned her gaze fully to Rebeka. "The algal converter is running on emergency rations as well, right? Low heat, low light." She stepped over to the table and put down her mug, still full of now-cold coffee. "But the optimal conditions for it are light and warmth and mineral water." She picked up two more cups and placed them beside her own.

"So?" Rebeka asked, her eyes narrowing.

"So, if we shunt more power to it, it can regenerate more quickly."

"But we have no more power to shunt to it. Not without pulling power from something else." Ish drew swirls of spilled coffee across the table. "And there's nothing left to pull power from." His fingers stopped and his head jerked up as he looked her in the eyes. "No."

"What?" Alek stepped up beside her again.

"She wants to shunt power from life support." Ish didn't take his eyes off her when he spoke.

"I didn't say...." But Tink stopped. It was what she'd been thinking. "It's the only constant that uses enough power to make a difference."

"No." Rebeka stepped forward.

"It would only be for a bit, to get it—"

"No, we're not shunting power from life support. Even if we have to wait 10 days."

Tink slumped back against the counter, and Severn wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

He leaned close, his breath whispering over her ear as he spoke. "You know, and I know, that the biophilic system on the ship has failsafes. You've engineered it to." His shoulder shrugged. "But that's not enough for everyone."

Rebeka gave Tink an indecipherable look before turning to the others. "Kandi, Ish, see if there's anywhere else we can conserve power. Severn, work with Cass to find any bit of efficiency." Her gaze returned to Tink and Alek. "You two, go take a shower."

"But we need to save the warm water for the algae tanks."

"No, we don't," Rebeka and Alek said in unison. Tink started to protest, then threw up her hands and trudged towards the showers, leaving just as the captain added, "Meet back here at 16:30 Zulu for another briefing."

The patter of falling water tickled Tink's eardrums, and steam filled her nostrils. Despite knowing water was in short supply, and the power to heat it even shorter, she relished every precious second, determined to max out her allotment. The warm water pelted the tension from her shoulders and washed away the anger, leaving behind only frustration. Not for the first time, she thanked the stars the ship was old enough that it had traditional water showers, rather than sonic ones. Besides the fact that she never felt fully clean after coming out of a sonic, there was something about hot water that washed away more than sweat and grime. Since most of the water was reclaimed for use in the algal tanks, there'd never been a strong reason to convert.

However, showers were carefully timed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a yellow light flick to red: the warning that her allotment was almost up. She sighed and ran her fingers through her tangle of hair one last time. The red counter ticked down to nothing. And reset to green. She frowned and tapped the lights. Then a slow smile lifted her cheeks — the captain must have overridden the limit, giving her extra time. Nonetheless, she turned the water off. She was clean enough. They needed the power, and she had work to do if she hoped to get the algal converter running at full capacity again asap.

She stepped out of the shower into the small cubicle, lit by a single light dimmed to emergency levels. A weight dropped in her gut as she cast her gaze around, then she closed her eyes and groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. She'd come straight to the shower without stopping for a change of clothes. She opened her eyes to peer sidelong at the jumpsuit she'd been wearing, still soaked with now cold water — sticky, mineral-rich and full of algae. Her nose wrinkled and her skin crawled. Squeezing water out of her hair, she debated her options. There was no way she was putting that jumpsuit on again until it was washed. She'd rather streak through the ship. Her lips pursed as she pulled a bath sheet from the shelf. Wrapping the long cloth around her, she hoped everyone else was occupied.

Tink opened the door of the shower cubicle to step into the main room. And bumped into Alek, his hair wet, dressed in a fresh pair of scrubs and a clean tank, a towel around his neck. She stepped back, her eyes widening. The emergency lights cast him in a crimson halo, highlighting incongruous flecks of red in his black hair that she hadn't noticed before. Sparks of red glinted in his eyes.

He gave her a lopsided smile as he held out the clean jumpsuit folded in his hands. "I hope you don't mind. I noticed you came straight here." She glanced up at him, her mouth opening at the thought of him in her quarters. "Don't worry. Kandi retrieved it."

She swallowed and took the jumpsuit from him. "Thanks." He nodded and turned around. She hesitated for a moment then unwrapped the bath sheet. "The captain didn't extend your shower ration?"

"She did. I didn't think it was fair to use it." He ruffled his hair dry with his towel, and Tink watched the muscles of his shoulders and upper back flex and contract under the grey tank.

"Done," she said, zipping up the front of the jumpsuit. He turned around, and his eyes focused on hers. She looked away, her cheeks flushing. Tilting her head to squeeze some water out of her curls, she blew at a strand stuck to her face, trying to dislodge it without letting go of the towel she was using to dry her hair. She froze as Alek's fingers brushed her cheek, tucking the curl behind her ear.

"I like that you've kept your freckles."

Tink's stomach somersaulted, and she focused on squeezing water out of her hair, though there was little left. Squashing the flutter in her gut, she frowned. "What's it to you?"

He shrugged. "It's just nice to see people being real." He threw his towel in the cleaner, and she sent hers after it. "I told the captain that I'd cook up a meal for everyone, if you want to help. I think we need some sustenance."

Tink was about to protest that they couldn't spare the power, then her stomach grumbled. Her mouth salivated at the thought of another one of his custard bug scrambles. "If you want anyone to eat it, you shouldn't let me anywhere near it." She gave him a small smile, and he responded with a chuckle.

"Fair enough." His eyes lingered on her face for a few seconds, then he turned towards the door.

Tink's stomach twittered again. "But I am pretty hungry." She inhaled sharply as she reached for her soiled jumpsuit, tossing it in the cleaner with the towels as she followed him out. "I can keep you company."