Breathing Space (Ellis McFadden Mysteries #1)

Chapter 1

Starliner Athos Nexus Main Chat

Chattykaffi: Welcome aboard, cruisers! We’re so pleased to have you with us on the next leg of our journey. As we traverse the expanse of the universe together, I will do my utmost as your cruise director to ensure that your experience is as pleasant as possible. Don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything. All of us who call the Athos home are happy to help!

Newcruiser_JJ: The ship is beautiful. I can’t wait to spend some time on the observation deck, but I hear the stardust martinis are not to be missed!

1001Stories: Welcome, cruisers! This is Ellis McFadden, the Athos’s head librarian. If you’re looking for some entertainment in the form of a great digital or audio book, a new video game, or a favorite movie, stop by the library and let us recommend something. Library cards are complimentary!

Spaceman_9: Is there a dessert buffet? We were told there would be a dessert buffet.

Starlover12: Who cares about dessert? We’re in the middle of space!!

Nexus_Mod3: Spaceman_9, the dessert buffet can be found on Deck 33. Follow the purple arrows to the Supernova Buffet.

Starliner Athos Nexus Chat 3

RedPlumber: Someone needs to explain to these cruisers that they have to close the lids on the toilets or the WCS doesn’t work properly.

Chattykaffi: I’ll take care of it.

T he cryostasis hold really was the best place to be in the middle of a hot flash. For one thing, it was quiet and peaceful. Just me and two hundred and twenty-five of the brightest minds Earth had to offer. They were all frozen, of course, so maybe not the most sociable of companions, but as I was melting down, I wasn’t feeling super sociable myself.

Actually, while in the midst of one’s own personal heat wave, frozen friends were really the only kind to have. These frozen friends would be defrosted when we reached our final destination, a colony on a distant planet that closely resembled Earth and was previously unpopulated.

For another thing, the main thing, the cryostasis hold was kept at a brisk thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit. I’d take that all day long when I felt like this.

Who am I? Ellis Scheherazade McFadden. Els to my nonfrozen friends.

I unzipped the top half of my staff-issued gray jumpsuit to let more heat out, fanning at my throat and chest, which felt like a convection oven going at full blast. The cool air wafted over my flushed skin, giving me the relief I craved.

Jumpsuits were stupid. What sane woman over the age of forty wanted to undress down to her knees every time she had to use the facilities? Clearly, these uniforms had been designed and chosen by a man.

I’d already mentioned the jumpsuit issue to my daughter, who just so happened to be the vice-admiral of the Athos starliner, but perhaps another little comment couldn’t hurt.

At least I didn’t have to wear the blessed thing on my off hours. I also never wore my uniform on Saturdays or Sundays, because those were my days off, but here I was on a Saturday, wearing it all the same.

I’d had to go into the library to help out with a computer issue, so I’d put on my work clothes. I’d stayed longer than I’d intended, but I enjoyed being at the library, and it was easy to lose track of time when discussing books with a patron.

When I’d realized it was nearly dinnertime, I’d left. But I’d felt the hot flash coming on and had ducked in here on my way back to my quarters to change.

The cryostasis chamber was conveniently located between my quarters and my job at the library. It wasn’t just my job. I was in charge of the place, as I was the head librarian on the premier vessel in the Federation of Allied Nations’ fleet. The Athos , a Behemoth-class starliner. It was part cruise ship, part research vessel, and part military craft.

My job was pretty heady on paper. In reality, it was nearly the same work I’d been doing on Earth before I’d retired. Of course, there were some additional duties I’d had to learn to do, but the perks were better pay, better hours, and more staff. And the big one—being on this adventure with my daughter.

I didn’t mind having to learn new things. I loved it. Learning kept the brain sharp. Helped slow down the aging process. In fact, I’d come out of retirement to take the job, ostensibly to be near my daughter. But the adventure of space travel had been a big draw, too. Why not come along? See new things? Meet new people? New species? Explore new planets? Spend my golden years doing something more interesting than knitting or playing cards?

Both of those pursuits I enjoyed very much and still did but, hello, space . My husband, Ned, God bless his soul, had passed at fifty-two. Older than me at the time, but still far too young. Sudden cardiac arrest. A widow-maker, they called it. Like naming it made it better. It didn’t.

Heat mostly abated, I zipped my jumpsuit back up and wandered through the cryostasis pods, looking at my favorites. The pods resembled enormous tubes of lipstick more than they did people holders. Except for the little glass rectangles over the faces.

Dr. Emil Jannson, geneticist. Dr. Lucille Parl, neuroscientist. Craig Hoyt, spatial engineer and winner of the Wright Foundation Fellowship. Amee Gupta, hydroponics technologist and the inventor of the Gupta method for growing produce in space.

“Thanks for the broccoli,” I told her. “I still hate it, but deep-fried and smothered in cheese, it’s not bad.”

I shivered as my temperature fully returned to normal. Time to go. I only had access to this area because my clearance level meant my wristband opened a lot of doors. A lot of doors. Cooling off from a hot flash probably wouldn’t be considered legitimate business, so I didn’t want to hang out longer than necessary.

Besides, Hieronymus would be missing me. As much as an android cat could be programmed to miss anyone. Despite his android status, he was pretty convincing as a genuine feline, and I adored him as much as if he were a real cat. I liked to think he was pretty fond of me, too.

I slipped out of the hold and back into the softly lit gray corridor. There weren’t many people around. It was nearly dinnertime. Most would be headed to one of the dining halls, regardless of which deck they were assigned. So would I, as soon as I changed out of this wretched jumpsuit.

The girls would be waiting. I went into power-walking mode as I finished the trek to my quarters. I’d have to check my wristband later and see how many extra calories that burned.

A vuum shuttled down the corridor ahead of me, arriving at my door before I did. The chip in the little robotic vacuum spoke to another chip in the door panel and lifted the special access flap at the bottom of my door. The vuum motored through.

A fleet of the dinner plate-sized vacuums made regular rounds on every deck of the starliner, zipping through common areas and into everyone’s quarters and cleaning the floors. Too bad they didn’t dust and scrub toilets, too.

I flattened my hand on the printlock next to my door. It slipped open with a soft whoosh, the lights flickering on inside. The vuum had already begun its prescribed grid. I wasn’t sure it would finish before I left for dinner, but it didn’t need me to be here. It could let itself out.

“Welcome, Ellis.”

I used to roll my eyes at the soft computerized voice, but I’d gotten used to it. Still weird, though. “Computer, you don’t need to greet me every time I come in. We’re not roommates. Please stop.”

“As you wish, Ellis.”

It was the second time in three days I’d had to shut that off. As I stepped into my foyer, I wondered if that was a malfunction I should report. The door closed behind me. “Harry, I’m home.”

The chunky orange and white cat came running out of the bedroom, tail in the air, meows calling back to me.

I smiled. Android or not, he was awfully cute and good company. And, yes, I’d chosen his chubby frame. I thought it made him more snuggly. I bent down and scooped him up into my arms. “Hiya, handsome.”

He chirped and rubbed his face against mine. Whoever had designed him had done a fantastic job. He was warm and squishy and everything that was perfect about a cat.

The vuum ran into the leg of my couch, backed up and corrected course.

“I love you too, Harry. Gotta change and head out again. Dinnertime. But when I get back, we’ll watch a movie and hang out. I promise.” I put him back on the floor. Unlike a real cat, he didn’t need food, water, or a litter box. And he was trainable. Although I hadn’t actually attempted that yet. A trained cat didn’t seem that catlike. Random, slightly chaotic behavior felt much more real.

I went into the bedroom and put on loose navy wide-leg pants, a white-and-gray striped tunic top, and knitted gray flats that were nearly as comfortable as slippers. It was so good to be out of that jumpsuit. I kept the hot pink scarf currently worn as a headband, the ends of it sticking into the air in a way I considered jaunty.

I gave Harry a little wave. “Bye, baby.”

He meowed as I headed for the door. The vuum was still doing its thing. When it finished, it would slip back out through its slot and head to the next apartment.

I went to Dining Hall Five, my usual cafeteria. It was only two corridors away. I’d be a little later than usual, but not much. My friends would be at our regular table, waiting for me.

The hum of conversation increased as I approached, the aromas of dinner wafting out. I’d forgotten to check the weekly menu to see what was being offered this evening. Standard fare was two hot meals, one vegetarian, one carnivore, and then there were always the soup, salad, and dessert bars. There were also ready-made sandwiches and salads, in the cold cases.

Not quite the Supernova Buffet, but unless you wanted to mix with cruisers, which most of us didn’t after a day’s work, the dining hall was just fine.

Sometimes soup and salad was all I felt like, especially when accompanied by a hunk of fresh bread, but tonight I was hungry. My day had been interrupted by the small crisis at the library, leaving me without time for much of a lunch. I’d managed to grab a handful of protein crackers with cheese and several mugs of tea. The library’s Instachef had a pretty limited menu, but it did in a pinch.

Now it was time for a real meal. I spotted my friends as I came in. They’d gotten their food already and knew I’d do the same before joining them. I gave them a wave to let them know I’d seen them.

I got in line, leaning to the side to see better. Looked like lentil loaf was the vegetarian option. That wasn’t bad if you could get beef gravy over the top of it, but if there was beef gravy available, there was usually something better to be had.

Then I saw the carnivore meal. Lasagna. I grinned. I knew what I was having. I’d get a salad to go with it.

And maybe hit the dessert bar afterwards. I didn’t like to do that too often. There were the, thankfully rare, weigh-ins to consider. The ship was calibrated on specific things such as the weight of its cargo. Weigh-ins weren’t so much about the individual as they were about maintaining certain parameters. Hence the group weigh-ins so that no one felt singled out.

Then there was the reality that growing out of your clothes wasn’t a great idea when they had to last you a while. Getting new ones meant filing requisition forms for a new work uniform or using credits at the commissary. Sometimes, you could pick up a few cute things at a starport, but those were hit and miss, and none of those items were suitable for work attire.

Also, not all starports catered strictly to the human form.

Occasionally, you could swap clothes with someone. But the jumpsuit was bad enough without it also being secondhand. Not everyone took great care of their things.

I got my lasagna, fixed a quick salad at the self-serve station, and headed to my table. “Hello, ladies,” I called out as I approached.

Benni and Zanya just nodded, as they had mouths full of food.

“Els,” Vashti replied. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’m here.” A stock answer, but it was also the truth. Vashti had the lentil loaf. I sat beside her. “How was your day? Any interesting cases?” Vashti was one of the rotation doctors in the starliner’s main sick bay, which meant she dealt almost exclusively with cruisers and her days off fluctuated. She always had interesting stories to tell.

We’d gotten an influx of new cruisers yesterday from the planet Trillon. There was almost always a case or two of space sickness with new cruisers.

Vashti’s eyes sparkled, a sure sign that she had a tidbit at the ready. “A certain planet’s governor came in with a minor chest cold and some respiratory congestion. As did her administrative assistant. Both had the exact same symptoms. I can’t say more than that, but I think you know what I’m getting at.”

Zanya, seated across from Vashti, snorted. “What a coincidence, eh?”

Next to Zanya, Benni, often the voice of reason, shook her head. “They do work in the same office.”

“Yeah,” Zanya said. “But they’re not at work. And they’re not sharing a cabin.” Her lips pursed. “At least they’re not supposed to be.”

Benni, short for Benedicta, was an EMS, or Exterior Maintenance Specialist. There were thirty thousand solar collection panels in three different sections on the ship. Benni and her partner, Will, ran maintenance on Section A. It took them four and a half days to clean their allotted ten thousand panels. Then they had two and a half days off. Then they started all over.

I found her particularly fascinating, since she was one of only six people on the entire starliner who made regular trips outside the ship.

“They do work together,” Vashti said. “But they’re also both married to other people and neither of their partners is sick. I asked. Regulations require we find out who they’ve been in contact with. Which is how I know neither of their partners are on board.”

“Mm-hmm.” Zanya nodded, her brows high. She taught art two days a week in the ship’s school. Of the two thousand non-tourist souls on board, nearly two hundred of them were children. Two days a week, she also worked in the laundry.

Having more than one job wasn’t uncommon on the Athos . And as jobs went, laundry was pretty good. It was almost entirely automated. Mostly, Zanya pressed buttons.

“That’s just life on a starliner,” I said. “There’s bound to be those who have a wandering eye.”

Zanya grinned. “Sounds like more than just eyes are wandering.”

We all laughed.

The lasagna was good. It was always good. Anything I didn’t have to prepare myself tasted great to me anyway. In my married life, I’d been a passable cook. Ned had never complained, bless him. But my kitchen skills had never been anything noteworthy. I could make a decent roast chicken and a good chocolate cake. Beyond that, there were no guarantees.

We chatted a bit more as we finished up our meals. The dining hall was emptying out. Some would be headed back to their quarters. Those who worked alt shift would be off to their stations. Some might be going to a canteen or one of the simdecks for recreation.

Some might even be headed to the cruiser decks.

There were a lot of different activities available on board. But I had a little work to do in preparation for the following day. I wiped my mouth, then set my napkin on the table. “Have a wonderful day tomorrow, my friends. I’m off to finalize the programming for the next season of Channel 2.”

Zanya fluttered her lashes at me. “Any hints?”

I shook my head and made a zipping motion across my mouth. “Nothing yet.”

I said goodbye and made my way out. I was proud of myself for skipping the dessert bar, but I knew I’d end up with a piece of chocolate while I watched a movie and a cup of tea and a cookie or two before bed. It had become my routine.

My thoughts were on the new programming I planned on uploading to Channel 2. It was one of my duties as head librarian to cycle the shows and movies available on the starliner’s retro entertainment channel.

There was a good deal available on demand, all of it held in the ship’s bubble, but with all the other technology running, there were decades of shows and movies that couldn’t be added. So every season, which ran for a quarter of the year, I changed out the programming from the hard storage in the library.

I had nearly completed the list of shows for the new season. So far that included The Rockford Files , Cagney and Lacey , Murder She Wrote , The Honeymooners , I Love Lucy , Spin City , Wings , Gilligan’s Island , Hill Street Blues , Grey’s Anatomy , and Friends . Looney Tunes would remain for the kids, but I was probably going to add Rugrats and The Flintstones to the lineup as well.

I had spots for at least two more shows. I wasn’t sure what they’d be just yet. But figuring them out was my plan for the evening. I liked to keep things eclectic, with choices for every age group while adding shows that had been forgotten about or overlooked.

Maybe one of those shows would be another one for the younger set. The kids’ programming was just as important to me as the adults’ was.

Most of the children on board had come with their families. There were others, children who’d been up for adoption or in foster care, who’d been selected to come along to be trained for the arrival at the new colony, which was our end mission.

They’d all come willingly. Wasn’t like they’d been conscripted. They’d had to pass a series of aptitude tests, physical exams, the whole lot.

I had a soft spot for those brave kids. In my estimation, they were the real pioneers. Boldly going where few had. The new colony on EB 465 had been set up six years ago, but it was still early days.

Those children would be the colony’s first real generation.

At my quarters, I flattened my hand to the printlock and stepped inside as the door opened. All of the children on board came to the library on a regular basis as part of their school day. I wasn’t a teacher, but in a way, I felt connected to them. They were bright and eager to learn. Inquisitive about life and the ship and what lay ahead for them.

Despite my years, I felt the same. If I hadn’t, I never would have come.