8. Worse Things Happen at Sea

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The lights in the games room were still dimmed but the music seemed to be slipping into some form of continuous loop. Emily could hear the concerned tone in distant voices, but decided that information was her first priority at this point.

She led the others up the short stair-case which took them away from the card table. Gordon Remick was by her side and she could see from his eyes that he was worried.

A number of doors were closed shut and they could hear people behind them, calling out to the ship. For safety reasons, many of the doors were entirely automated and there was no easy way of opening them by hand. No matter how many people called out, there was no reply and no sign that the ship was even listening.

The entertainment quarter was a sprawling mass of floors and open spaces which dominated the rear section of the central hull. Fortunately, there were few doors between their group and the open air so it was easy to get out onto the main deck.

Emily stood on the polished wooden surface and turned around, listening and watching out for signs of life. There were lights on throughout the ship and other people were moving around, looking equally bewildered and lost.

She stopped beneath an antique lantern and tried to think. Remick had kept up with her and was looking around with wide open eyes. Quentin Resbit joined them but was holding his head in pain.

'Are you alright?' she asked.

'Really... bad... headache,' he replied with a strained tone. 'It's like an explosion of static in my brain - mixed in with gaps and empty space... I... I'm going to have to shut some of my senses down...'

He grasped the lantern post with both hands and closed his eyes tightly. She patted him on the arm and tried to be reassuring. This was not good.

'Gordon,' she called out. 'Do you have any way of contacting the crew? Finding out what's going on?'

He nodded.

'We usually work through the ship, but there are some staff-only areas - if they've not been cut off...'

'Good,' she said confidently. 'Go ask around. See if you can find someone - anyone - who knows what to do!'

He nodded again and ran off along the deck. Keeping him busy was probably a good idea, but she didn't think there would be much help from the staff. The ship ran itself most of the time. But if something had happened to the ship's mind...

The tall blue man, Esthra Van Pethris joined her on the deck. He was not the sort to run and had chosen to accompany the astroform woman, Kaaren, who found movement on the surface difficult at the best of times. She was lumbering along by his side, looking like a giant tortoise crossed with a landslide.

'Are you two okay?' Emily asked.

'We are, for now,' Van Pethris replied. 'But this situation is most concerning...'

'Indeed...' Emily growled.

Quentin Resbit blinked and opened his eyes slowly.

'How's your head?' she asked.

'A little... better...' he replied slowly. 'It still hurts, but I managed to close down a few of my live links and... it's just fuzzy now... like I've got bees in my skull.'

'I'm sorry,' she said softly. 'Have you managed to pick up anything more?'

He sighed.

'It's chaos,' he gasped, clearly still in pain. 'The main ship-wide systems have gone completely blank and the back-ups are screaming for instructions but there's no-one out there.'

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