"Thank you," she said, making a heartfelt bow.

"Please don't damage my crewmen," Hadeishi responded on his private channel. "Good luck."

"There is one more thing…" Gretchen felt her stomach clench, knowing she was probably overstepping the bounds of hospitality. "If you could loan us an engineer's mate, I think we could get the power plant on the Palenque working again."

Hadeishi frowned. Gretchen kept her face impassive. The captain looked sideways, listening. He frowned again and said something into his throat mike. While Anderssen watched, the captain argued momentarily with someone, then gave up.

"Sho-sa Isoroku will be joining you on the Palenque," Hadeishi said in a tight voice.

Gretchen must have shown some of her astonishment openly. "I see."

"He," Hadeishi continued in a colorless tone, "wishes to see the damage caused by this weapon for himself. I believe he desires to submit a technical paper to the Fleet Engineering College on Mars. You should get ready to move your equipment."

Gretchen nodded again, in thanks, then began gathering up the v-pads, writing styluses and other bric-a-brac which had accumulated around the secondary weapons station. Magdalena was still hunched over her board, watching the feeds from the various suit cameras.

"I'll see you downstairs," Gretchen said, thumping the Hesht on one furry shoulder.

"Ya-ha," Maggie answered absently. "Be there in a bit."

The main lock of the Palenque cycled and Gretchen stepped through into a dark, echoing passage. A string of fading glowbeans cast the main access corridor in twilight, each shining dot throwing a circle of solemn blue-green light. She looked down at the enviro readouts on her arm – everything shone a friendly green – and she stepped aside to let Lieutenant Isoroku drag the battery pack into the ship. Magdalena followed, swimming through the opening with a flotilla of duffels, gearboxes and tools floating around her.

"You going to the command deck?" Gretchen lifted her chin in question. The Hesht shook her head.

"No, down to Engineering first. If we can get the hatch to the control compartment open we'll restart the ship's main comp before we try to bring up the reactor core. What about you?"

"I'm going to wander around," Gretchen said, looking at the readouts on her arm again. "The lab ring, I think. Keep channel four open." She looked over to Isoroku. "Lieutenant, could you use someone familiar with the ship systems?"

"Hai…" he answered dubiously.

Gretchen clicked her teeth, changing comm channel. "Sergeant Fitzsimmons, could you tell Miss Flores to suit up and go to Engineering? Lieutenant Isoroku will be waiting for her." She paused, listening. "I don't believe the ship is infected anymore, Sergeant. You and Corporal Deckard are proof of that, at least in my eyes. We would all be dead by now if the weapon remained active on-board."

There was an affirmative grunt on the channel and Gretchen smiled at the lieutenant.

"Crewwoman Flores will be along presently. Good luck – I'd love to see some light and heat in here."

Gretchen followed the battery pack – guided by Isoroku with a clever little hand-held gas-jet unit – down two main decks, then swung out of the access shaft to let her boots adhere to the doorframe of a large, doublewide portal labeled XA LAB ONE. The pressure hatch was closed, and she swore silently to herself. Of course it's closed. Everything is.

Feeling foolish, she found the manual locking bar and – straining to keep her feet wedged against the bulkhead for leverage – managed to crank the hatch open enough to get her suit through. On the other side, she paused, staring at the opening. Her arms were sore, but part of her brain was making a frightened sound. I might have to flee back this way…

"No," she said aloud, though her throat mike was muted. "No I won't."

Dialing her suit lamps to a more diffuse illumination, Gretchen pushed off gently and made her way forward through the ring. After a few minutes, she pulled herself up short, staring through a thick oval window into the next lab. The hatch was closed tight, the chamber dark, but the fragmentary light of her suit lamps picked out the shape of a clean-box with something bulky inside. Some kind of debris was scattered on the deck, and there was a subtle sense of disorder among the white and steel surfaces.

Someone working on something when the disaster overcame them?

"Damn." The hatch was sealed, the pressure seals closed. The chamber had no manual lock – indeed, a heat-distorted label declared the space beyond a "secured environment." Gretchen clicked her mike on. "Maggie? How long until we have power?"

There was no answer. Gretchen froze, listening to the warble of static and an intermittent, distant pinging sound. Suppressing a cold shiver of fear, she changed channel again. "Anderssen to the Cornuelle, come in please."

There was still no answer, but – obscurely – Gretchen was a little relieved. Something's blocking my suit comm, she thought. Of course.

Only slightly less apprehensive, she made her way back to the access shaft, pushing away from the handholds set into the ceiling and floor. Squeezing through the hatchway, she breathed a sigh of relief to hear channel four wake to life with Maggie and Delores chatting amiably while they worked.

"Magdalena? How long until we have power?"

The Hesht made a coughing sound – laughter – then said: "We haven't opened the door to Engineering yet, but we're close. One of the hatch motors burned out and Isoroku is replacing the mechanism. So I'd say another hour, at least."

"Thank you." Gretchen muted the channel, staring around at the cold darkness filling the ship. The main accessway seemed bottomless, even with a receding line of glowbeans shining in the dimness. Somehow the faint little pools of light only made the gloom seem more encompassing and complete. Disheartened, she sat down, swinging her boots over the shaft. "I guess I'll just wait, then."

After an endless minute, she pulled a v-pad from the cargo pocket of her suit and thumbed it awake. Might as well get some work done, she thought glumly. So something got loose in the ship, something which must have propagated through the air, a gas or vapor – how else could it move so fast and be unseen? Air is easy to penetrate, permeates most everything. An aerosol of some kind…She called up the ship schematics Magdalena had been using to follow the power and utility conduits. Her pad still held the modeling and time-regression software she'd used on Ugarit, which could understand the volume of the ship, the rooms and chambers, even the lack of organic artifacts.

Just like a site abandoned so long all the organics have decayed away, she thought after thirty minutes. Hmm…that's a good lab exercise for first-years.

Steadily brightening light broke her concentration, and she looked up to see the pilot scooting up the shaft toward her. A little embarrassed, she tucked the v-pad away. "How goes, Mister Parker?"

"Good," he answered, cheerful humor returned. "Engineering is open, and Isoroku's got his battery hooked up. Looks like the ship's fuel cells still have some juice, though Environmental was still working for awhile after the accident. Magdalena's starting up the comp from local power. I'm heading for the bridge to check the relays and get the main comm array running."

Gretchen smiled. "Good. What about main power?"

Parker waggled his hand ambivalently, inducing a slow spin. "No promises there. Isoroku wants to check every centimeter of the reactor to make sure nothing got eaten away by our little friend. Can't say I blame him."

"No, I suppose not." Gretchen rose, one hand clinging to a railing surrounding the hatchway. "If power comes back up, I'll want you to unlock the hatches in the lab habitat for me. Don't open them, though. I'll take care of that."