A New Beginning

About an hour after the explosion our recreation officer gave me a list of the living and the dead; George was among the living. I asked Louis where he was. Our recreation officer told me he was in his cabin. After looking over the list I dismissed Louis with an order to find an appropriate movie or some other suitable program to put on over stations four and six of our onboard television stations. I wanted station two left off air in case I needed it.

As he was leaving the bridge Chantelle Dawn sent me a short text message over my cell TV-phone; she and Anthony had finished their detailed inspection of the damage to the spaceship.

I thought about calling her back but I didn't want those on the bridge to hear my conversation with her. I wanted to meet with her in private in case the damage to the spaceship was more extensive than I had anticipated. If it was then I would give the crew only the bad news they needed to know; I didn't want to alarm them any more than necessary.

I sent a text message to her to meet me in my cabin.

I looked around the bridge. Juan was at the helm closely watching the monitor in front of him. Natalie Amiee, sitting behind him, was typing something in on the computer. Behind her, Elizabeth Dee was just sitting at the engineer's station. Both she and Victoria Rose, sitting behind me, were watching me intently. The three remaining seats in the rear were occupied only by the ghosts of the dead.

"Vickie, I'm going to my cabin for a few minutes, if anyone needs me call me over my cell TV-phone. Juan, maintain present course and speed. I'll give you a course correction later, after Aleks gives me one. Beth, Natalie, the two of you just stay at your stations."

As I entered the lower flight deck everyone's eyes focused on me; they all expected me to say something. I paused at the top of the stairs leading to the elevator room, "Joseph, I'm going to my cabin for a few minutes; you're in charge. If George shows up call me on my cell TV-phone immediately. I've put Juan in charge of the helm until I return. Joshua will you accompany me. The rest of y'all remain at your stations for now."

Chantelle and her first security officer were waiting for me outside my berth when we got there. I told Anthony to return to his station next to the brig.

As soon as the hatch slid close, "Chantelle, Butler is dead along with about half of our crew. I'll give you a copy of the list later."

I saw the look of sympathy for me on her face; my lesbian lover knows how I feel about Butler. But I didn't have time for her empathy just now, maybe later. I waved her off with a diminutive shake of my head.

I turned to our flight officer, "Joshua, you're second in command as of now. I'll inform the rest of the crew later."

"Thank you," he answered me. "I wish it were under better circumstances. What about George? You know he's . . ."

"Fuck George! I'll deal with him later myself. Right now I need someone who is qualified to help me fly the James Cook and that person is you." Then in a much calmer voice I said, "Besides, he only outranks you by a couple of months. Under the present circumstances I'm sure UNESA would want someone with flight experience as second in command."

I paused and took a breath. "Before we get to your damage report Chantelle I want to inform you both that I'm going to start a journal of everything that has happened."

"Isn't that what the ship's log is for?" Joshua asked.

"The ship's log is the official journal. I want mine to be an unofficial record of what has happened under my command. Butler had an unofficial journal and he advised me to keep one if I ever got command of a spaceship. He said that such a record would come in handy if I ever went before a review board on how I managed a spaceship."

"What about UNESA, don't they frown on things like personal logs?" Chantelle asked.

"I'm not worried about that. I'm sure UNESA is going to meticulously examine everything that has happened onboard the James Cook over the last several days. They're going to interview survivors, go over the ship's log, study what's left of the James Cook and that sort of thing."

I paused to let the information sink in. Then, "I'm also sure that they're going to hang someone out to dry too. It will probably be Butler. He's dead and won't be able to defend himself."

"That's the way things are done. Blame the weak and defenseless," Joshua added.

I continued, "I can't help Butler; his life is over. But I can defend myself and my crew. I won't allow any of us to be made a scapegoat. With my journal, I'm going to do my best to make sure none of us are going to get crucified by some whitewash review board seeking to cover-up design flaws in the James Cook."

"You know they're going to try to exonerate the construction companies," Joshua bitterly interjected.

"And the politicians for allowing them to do so," I added.

Chantelle asked, "Do you think you'll have enough time to keep a personal log, with running the James Cook and everything?"

"Unlike the ship's log, my journal won't be a daily record. I don't have enough free time to record in it everyday. I will enter information in it whenever I have the opportunity and any information I believe to be significant."

"How is your record going to be different than the official ship's log?" Chantelle inquired.

"Much of what I put there will be an elaboration of the James Cook's log and will be able to be verified through the official record. For the most part, this will be facts that wouldn't normally be entered in a ship's log but should be able to be confirmed by questioning the members of the crew."

"Sounds OK by me," Joshua said.

"Me too," Chantelle added.

Next the three of us discussed the reason why so many of the officers and crew members lived as opposed to losing over 70% of the construction laborers.

Together we came to the conclusion that the reason 73% of the officers lived was because they were all called to return to their duty stations within a few minutes of the fourth lightening strike, the one that caused us to spin like a top.

Also, nearly 69% of the crew members survived because most of them never left the living section of the spaceship. Except for a few of the custodians, the crew members were not allowed on the flight decks and there was no need for them to go into the construction crew's sleeping quarters.

"Now what about the damage to the spaceship," I nodded to Chantelle.

"Everything forward of the cafeteria seems to be OK. The computer wouldn't let me open any of the hatches to about one third of the living section, all those behind the cafeteria."

"When the tail section broke off, the computer closed all the airtight passages in the living section. You have to have a special override code to open any hatch the computer has closed in emergencies. Butler and I are the only ones to have that code."

"I don't think it's necessary to open those hatches," Joshua cut in, shaking his head in disgust. "We all know what happens when a spaceship looses all its air pressure."

I continued, "Joseph used the telescopic camera and took some pictures of the rear of the living section right after the explosion. I haven't seen them yet but he said that there was a large gapping hole there and that the bulkhead was ripped open in several places."

"Damn construction companies cutting corners just to save money," Joshua added. "There was no excuse not to have airtight doors in the tail section. It was just numerous dormitories connected to one another with open hatches spaced along the passageways."

"That's where I usually found myself looking for someone," the security chief said. "I hated going back there. The custodians kept it pretty clean but there were always drops of water and small bits of trash floating throughout the rear section."

Another reason I seldom went to the tail section. But I didn't tell them that. Instead, "Having airtight hatches in the rear sleeping section wouldn't have done any good Joshua. I'm sure most of those who died were in the movie theaters at the time. Both of them were playing that new science fiction thriller No Time Zone that UNESA sent us two days ago."

"Are you making excuses for the construction companies," Joshua asked incredulously.

"No, I'm just stating a fact. I'm sure that the reason the construction worker's sleeping section and the cargo hold broke away is because they were connected to the James Cook only at the rear of the living section. There were no steel girders connecting the cargo hold to the front part of the living section or a passageway leading from the front part of the living section to the cargo hold."

"There should have been." He tightened his lips and shook his head in anger.

"You're right Joshua. If the front part of the living section had had steel girders connecting it to the cargo hold and had there been a passageway leading from the forward elevator room below the flight deck to the cargo hold, this would have added strength to the connections holding the cargo hold onto the tail section."

"Then maybe the tail section would not have broken off," Chantelle interjected.

I added, "The Spaceship James Cook was built just like the RMS Titanic. They both had design flaws in their construction and in both construction companies cut corners to save money -- both were constructed improperly."

Once I had a list of the dead and the damage report I knew I had to make a decision. But I also knew what that decision was going to be.

I dismissed them both. I told Chantelle to return to her duty station on the third floor next to the brig. I ordered Joshua to go to the bridge but to let Joseph remain in charge until I got there.

After they left I was alone with my thoughts.

Those accommodations that the officers and ship's crew used, like sickbay, supply, the salon, the ship's laundry, one of the games rooms and one of the TV lounges were all located towards the front of the living section.

The cafeteria was on the second floor dividing the living section in half. Behind it were all those accommodations used mainly by the construction laborers. Everything behind the cafeteria lost all oxygen and pressure, which is where everyone who died was located. I knew that there was one laborer -- an electrician can you believe it -- in the brig at the time; that's why he lived.

I came to the conclusion that most of the laborers who survived were either in the forward TV lounge or the forward games room at the time of the explosion.

Then the thought hit me . . . like a sludge hammer. The kitchen closes at eighteen hundred. At the time of the fifth lightening strike, the kitchen had just closed. The waiters and waitresses were just starting to clean up from the evening meal. There were probably only a few stragglers still eating dinner.

I looked at the desktop picture of Stonehenge that I keep on my computer monitor and then to the picture of my mother taped in the corner of the screen. I said to her, "It's too bad the cafeteria wasn't serving dinner when the fifth lightening bolt hit us. If it had hit a few minutes earlier maybe more people would have survived."

As to why 12 of the original 16 prostitutes died, I'm sure is a matter of where they were when the James Cook broke in half.

They were all berthed together in the forward part of the living section, four to a cabin. But they each had their own "rest areas" for their trade.

There are numerous pigeonhole storage areas situated in various parts of the living section. Sixteen of these cubicles were outfitted with cots, mattresses, sinks and toilets, one for each of the prostitutes. I guess you could say that they too had their own private berth; they often used them as a private berth. All but four of these rest areas were behind the cafeteria.

I later found out that two of the prostitutes, Alicia and Terri, were in their cabins at the time. Veronica Anne and Josephine Jasmine, the other two prostitutes who lived, were in the forward TV lounge at the time of the explosion. I assume the prostitutes who died were either in their rest areas or one of the rear TV lounges when the James Cook broke up. I guess they were trying to pick up a john, although it was a little early for that. It was about 18:45 hours.

All missions lasting longer than three months have prostitutes onboard to offer some relief to the crew. About a week before we left MC3 Captain Butler and I sat down and discussed some of the onboard rules everyone would have to obey concerning them and some other sensitive issues.

"What about the services the prostitutes offer?" I asked him. "I believe that there ought to be a limit on when they are available to everyone, if only to give them some relief."

"I agree with you on that Toni. I was thinking that we limit their services and have them available only between nineteen hundred and zero seven hundred."

"That sounds good to me."

"I'm going to leave it up to each girl to decide when she wants to work within that time frame and exactly what services she offers and how much she charges for those services."

"What about male prostitutes, will there be any onboard?" I inquired.

"No." He paused. He could see the apprehension on my face. "I'm not trying to be insensitive Toni. It's just that there just isn't enough of a demand for male prostitutes. I figure that the any male homosexual who wants sex can rent one of the prostitute's rest areas for their private use."

"OK, OK, you're right," I reluctantly agreed.

"I'm also going to leave it up to each girl to decide for herself what form of birth control she will use."

We then got sidetracked and started discussing the religious right and the social conservatives. He was still upset over an incident he had with an extreme sect of them a few days earlier.

They call themselves the Chaste Children for Christ. With the exception of Nuda Earth, they can be found on every space colony demonstrating against birth control, planned parenthood, nudity, the legalization of prostitution, homosexuality, bondage and discipline sex, and nearly any sex act other than the missionary position. They are socially ostracized on Nuda Earth.

When advancements in medicine finally wiped out the last of the sexual transmitted diseases -- genital warts -- they condemned that as a blasphemy. These self righteous individuals claimed that STDs were God's punishment for those who live in lust and that to do away with these diseases, according to them, was a sacrilege. They also claimed that the universal legalization of prostitution back in December 2053 was also a blasphemy and prophesied warnings of dire consequences. But nothing catastrophic ever happened.

Anyway, Butler and I were on MC3 preparing to board the shuttle to the James Cook. One of them, carrying a large sign condemning prostitution, approached us and verbally assaulted us. He said that we were children of evil and that we were going to hell.

We ignored him but the sign hit Butler in the forehead, giving him a small cut. Butler had just left from meeting with some UNESA officials and had on his dress uniform. He got blood all over his jacket. There are no dry cleaning services on MC3. The closest is on space station Earth II and he knew he wouldn't have the time to get back there until the mission is over. He threw the jacket away in disgust.

The only other restriction Butler had was on the purchase of alcohol. He restricted its purchase to between eighteen hundred and zero two hundred and only through the TV lounge rooms.

A person could also buy beer, whisky, wine or soft drinks for consumption in their own berth with their credits. But the captain issued orders that no one could purchase more than one half liter of alcohol for their private consumption in any 48 hour period; the bartender would log their purchase into the ship's computer.

Further, he told everyone onboard the day we left MC3 and posted a sign in each TV lounge stating that anyone caught drunk would spend two days in the ship's brig with a lost of two day's pay and any alcohol in their berth would be confiscated. There was always at least one person in one of the brig's five cells.

All personal onboard were paid by debiting their onboard bank account. Everyone had an ATM card with their picture ID and left thumb print on it. They used their ATM card to pay for entrance to the movie theaters, bought booze or soft drinks, snacks, rented movies -- adult movies or other kinds -- to play on the DVD players in their cabins and paid for their prostitutes.

With the exception of the prostitute's services, theater tickets and the snacks purchased in the theaters -- which only showed current movies, none of which were adult -- all these extras were purchased through the TV lounge. Each john paid their prostitute directly. The young lady would credit the john's onboard account and then debit her onboard account the same amount.

Those who didn't want to indulge in any of these things played pool, cards or whatever. Each TV lounge had six pool tables and twelve card tables; the latter could be used for playing cards or whatever those sitting there wanted to do. The forward TV lounge also had a library of over three million books on disk.

There was always someone playing on the tables, bridge, pinochle, hearts, poker, checkers, chess, monopoly, you name it. Decks of cards had to be purchased but you rented a rack of billiard balls by the hour. You also rented board games by the hour but some people had their own.

For money games, a person bought his or her chips from the bartender and cashed them in when they finished playing, just like a casino except that the house didn't take a percentage of your winnings. Also, there were no slot machines, video poker machines or roulette wheels onboard.

There is one type of poker that I particularly enjoy. It's called Hole Poker and is played just like regular five card Draw Poker except that two decks are used. There are no wild cards but the second deck, called the Hole Deck, has all the threes through the nines removed. The remaining 24 cards are shuffled and placed face down on the table.

Then the top card is turned face up on the table by the dealer before each deal begins. If a player is dealt a match for the Hole Card -- regardless of the suit -- then he or she automatically has the winning hand and can bet accordingly. If two people have the same Hole Card then the player with the five best cards wins. After all four aces are overturned the Hole Deck is reshuffled.

What I like about it is that you can have a rotten hand but if you have the Hole Card then you can even beat a royal flush. Of course, the down side of it is that you can have a great hand, say four kings, but if someone else has the Hole Card then your four kings doesn't amount to anything. I know because I had four kings during one game but Joshua had the Hole Card. I lost a lot of money on that particular hand.

On our third month out Ronald, one of the waiters from the kitchen, was caught cheating during a Hole Poker game in one of the rear TV lounges; he palmed a Hole Card. Some threats were made and there was a fight. Things got out of hand and Steven, the bartender, had to call security. Brian answered the call.

Two people sitting at the table claimed that they saw the waiter put the palmed Hole Card on the top of the Hole Deck. The other two players said that they were looking at their cards at the time and didn't see anything. Of course, Ronald denied it. But everyone thought it was suspicious that he kept getting dealt a match for the Hole Card.

But all four players wanted the waiter to reimburse them their losses. Brian put the three who were fighting -- Ronald and the two who saw him cheat -- into the brig until everything could be sorted out.