The Corianis Disaster

IV

Bedell tensed a little where he sat in an easychair in a lounge on board the Corianis. The lights had blinked; there was a barely noticeable jar. In a partly-filled dining-room just beyond him, people continued with what might be either breakfast or lunch, depending on when they got up. Those who sipped at drinks did not miss a drop. Jack Bedell gazed around him and automatically cocked an eye where speaker-units permitted warnings and information to be given to the entire ship at once. But nothing happened. Nothing. In a city, perhaps, one might not notice if the electricity flickered, or if the floor bumped slightly; but in a ship in space such things are matters of importance.

After a little, Bedell stood up and moved toward the door of that particular room. He glanced along the corridor outside. Yes. At the end there was a view-port, closed now because the ship was in overdrive and there was nothing to be seen. But such ports were very popular among ship passengers at landing-time; they offered the thrill of seeing a world from hundreds, then scores, and then tens of miles as the ship went down to its landing.

A stout woman got in his way, and Bedell diffidently moved aside. He went on to the end of the corridor. There was a manual control by which the shutters outside the port could be opened. He took the handle to open them.

Someone said hesitantly, "Is-is that allowed?"

Bedell turned. It was a girl, a fellow-passenger. He'd noticed her. With the instinct of one who is shy himself, he'd known that she suffered, like himself, the unreasonable but real agonies of self-consciousness. She flushed as he looked at her.

"I - I just thought it might be-forbidden," she half-stammered.

"It's quite all right," he said warmly. "I've done it before, on other ships."

She stood stock-still and he knew she wished herself away; he'd felt that way, too. So he turned the handle and the shutters drew aside. Then he forgot the girl completely for a moment; his hair tried to stand on end.

Because he saw the stars. In overdrive, one does not see the stars; in mid-journey, one does not go out of overdrive. But the stars were visible now-more, there was an irregular blackness which shut out many of them. It moved very slowly with relation to the ship. It was an object floating in emptiness. It could be small and very near, or farther away and many times the size of the Corianis.

There was another object, jagged and irregular. There were others. The Corianis was out of overdrive and in very bad company, something like three light-years from port.

He swallowed, and then moved aside.

"There are the stars," he told the girl. He very carefully kept his voice steady. "They're all the colors there are. Notice?"

She looked; and the firmament as seen from space is worth looking at. "Oh-h-h!" she cried. She forgot to be shy. "And that blackness…"

"It's the effect of the overdrive field," he said untruthfully.

She looked. She was carried away by the sight. Bedell figured she would probably find someone to tell about it, and if there was an emergency-and there was- the fewer passengers who knew about it, the better.

She asked eager questions, and then she turned and looked at him and realized, that she had been talking; she was embarrassed.

"Look!" said Bedell uncomfortably. "I've done quite a lot of space-travel, but I-I find it hard to talk to people, though it's perfectly proper for fellow-passengers to talk. I'd be grateful…"

She hesitated; but his diffidence was real. He'd spoken because she would not tell anyone that the ship was out of overdrive. Maybe-maybe-something could be done about it. And people who are shy can often talk together because they understand.

"Then we'll find a place to sit down," he suggested.

Presently, inconspicuously, he wiped sweat off his forehead. The ship would be about halfway on its journey. If it made a signal, and if the signal could reach so far, it would reach the two nearest planets some three years from now, when the Corianis was forgotten. There were other resources, but they depended on the ship being missed right away. That wasn't likely.

So he talked to the girl. Her name was Kathy Sanders. She was secretary to an assistant to the Secretary of Commerce.

When they separated, he thought of something.

"Now, why the hell didn't I remember that a passenger ship has to have a spare overdrive unit?" he demanded of himself. "How silly can I get? Everything's all right. It must be!"

But it wasn't.