The Bridge: A Science Fiction Survival Story

Chapter 15: Necti

The council met in secret, just before midnight when the rest of the ship was asleep.

Elliot had returned with Hannah, and hey took their seats at the far side of the table, their hands clasped together. Of our class, they had been the first to marry, and often I forgot their relation during council meetings. The head doctor, Disci, sat across from them with his apprentice at his right side, who had delivered each of us the messages to attend.

"Everybody but Segni," Disci had told him, just after a heavily rationed dinner consisting of uncooked vegetables due to the low numbers of chefs on hand, "This must be a secret from him, for the good of the ship. He must not know."

So his apprentice delivered the message to each of us, and we waited until the bustling of the halls turned to silence before stealing away, careful not to make noise ourselves.

"It is evident," Said Elliot, his voice low from his side of the table, "That the condition of the ship has reached a dire low. Do we have body counts?"

"None from the gardeners," I said, "Some minor injuries, but the doctors have already seen to those. The soil broke most of their falls."

"Four burns from the kitchens," said Hanna, "Six deep lacerations from knives. The rest is manageable. As you know, nearly everyone in there was injured in some fashion or another."

"And the porters?" Asked Elliott, turning to Disci.

"We saved who we could, and cleaned out the heavy room as best we could, but not all the stains could be removed. But of the original porters, I would say only ten percent are fit to work, thirty percent injured, and ten more percent crippled for the long term. And the rest- you know the rest."

"I do," Said Elliot, somber, "With the blight in the fields, this could not have come at a worse time. Already we are short staffed just to provide food and herbs. Horatius, we need both of those, can you provide them?"

I frowned as he mentioned the blight, then responded, "Yes, I can. If we can do away with the feast, we can devote half of the gardens to herbs and the other half to high yielding crops as opposed to strawberries. As I said to Segni, four weeks for each, assuming that nothing changes."

"The feast is cancelled," Hissed Elliot, "Damn the feast. There is no such time for such trivialities. Priority number one is those herbs, Horatius."

"Agreed," I answered, "But what about when Segni intervenes?"

"Prepare a feast for one," Responded Elliott, "It will be enough to suffice, and with the rest of the council on your side, he should listen to the majorities. Damn strawberries, in a time like this."

"Done. But now, we need to speak about a more important issue."

"Yes, yes we do," Murmured Disci and turned to the window, the rest of our eyes following.

Outside, the other half of the ship had turned, righting itself to be perfectly parallel with our end. Its flank was illuminated by a strobing white light that emanated from just behind the corner of the window, where the two halves of the ship came together. Only a few hours ago it had originated, too bright to look directly into and mimicking the color of stars far away, accompanied by a hissing and a vibration that I could feel through my shoes.

"What caused this?" Disci whispered, "And why now? Do you think they know that this is our weakest moment? Do you think they did it on purpose, as a strike against us?"

"Why should they?" Elliot answered, arms folded across his chest, "The Hand of God struck hundreds of years ago. If this was an act of aggression, then it makes no sense why they would have waited this long to perform it. Besides, we were once one people before the Hand of God split us, and if the stories are to be true, we lived in even greater peace back then than we enjoy now. They're probably just like us."