Condition 1 Part 3

They kept watch. For another twenty-three minutes, nothing happened. Mercer knew because he checked the chronometer twice. The first time, eleven minutes had passed. The second time, twelve. After that he stopped looking. The corridor remained a corridor. Crewmen came through. Kane stopped them. Mercer stopped them. Identification was produced, checked and returned. Authorization was confirmed. Reasons for being there were given. Most people had stopped being annoyed. Mercer almost preferred it when they were. A man in engineering red approached carrying a component case. “Identification.” The man already had it out. Mercer checked the card. Then the access list. Then the case. “Reason for access?” “Environmental control diagnostic.” “Authorization?” The man pointed at the terminal. Mercer checked. There it was. He handed the identification back. “Thank you.” The engineer took it and walked through the door. Mercer watched him go. He looked at Kane. Kane was watching the other end of the corridor. Mercer looked there too. Nothing. A minute passed. Maybe two. The deck moved. Mercer's knees bent before he knew he was doing it. The Enterprise rolled beneath him. Not the slight correction he had learned to ignore during normal flight. This was different. The deck seemed to slide sideways under his boots while something deep inside the ship groaned in protest. The lights dimmed. Someone shouted around the corner. Mercer caught the bulkhead with one hand. Kane didn't. He widened his stance and stayed upright. The lights returned. The deck leveled. Mercer listened. His heart was beating hard enough that he could feel it in his throat. Kane opened his communicator. “Kane to Security Control.” Static. Then: “Security Control.” “Junction twelve. Status?” “Maintain post.” Kane waited. Nothing else came. “Acknowledged.” He closed the communicator. Mercer stared at him. “That it?” “Yes.” “What was that?” “Don't know.” Mercer looked toward the ceiling. The ventilation had never stopped. A crewman appeared at the far junction. He was walking quickly. Mercer's hand went toward his phaser. Then stopped. The crewman saw them and slowed. Identification was already in his hand. Mercer held out his own. “Identification.” The crewman gave it to him. Mercer checked it. Authorized. “Reason for access?” “Damage-control inspection.” Mercer checked the terminal. There it was. He returned the card. The crewman hurried through. Mercer watched the door close. Then he looked at Kane. Kane was already watching the corridor again. So Mercer did too. * * * The eighth hour was mostly feet. Rainer had never spent this much time thinking about her feet. They hurt. Not badly. Badly would have been interesting. They just hurt enough to remain present. She shifted her weight. Left foot. Right foot. Left. Neither helped. The computer-core door behind her opened. Rainer turned. Patel stepped through. Again. Patel stopped when she saw her. “You're still here?” “No.” Patel looked at her. Rainer looked back. Patel held out her identification. Rainer took it. Same photograph. Same name. Same clearance. Same woman who had cheated at cards and wasn't very good at it. Rainer checked the access list anyway. Patel watched her. “You know, at this point I'm starting to take it personally.” “Good.” Rainer handed the card back. Patel tucked it away. “Anything happen?” Rainer looked at her. Patel's expression changed. “Right. Sorry.” Rainer leaned against the bulkhead. Then remembered Kane might appear from nowhere and straightened again. Patel noticed. “You look terrible.” “Everybody keeps telling me that.” “I didn't say everybody.” “You were thinking it.” “I was thinking you look tired.” “That's nicer.” “I can say terrible if you'd rather.” Rainer looked at her. Patel smiled. Rainer almost did. Almost. Another tremor passed through the deck. Patel's smile vanished. Rainer's hand was on her phaser before either of them moved. The tremor became vibration. The bulkhead behind Rainer rattled. Something metallic crashed somewhere beyond the computer-core door. The lights went out. Darkness. For less than a second. Emergency illumination came on red. Patel stood very still. Rainer could hear her breathing. Her own too. The computer-core door locked behind them with a heavy mechanical sound. Rainer drew her phaser. Patel stared at it. “What—” “Quiet.” Rainer listened. Machinery. Ventilation. A distant alarm. Footsteps somewhere beyond the junction. Fast. Coming toward them. Rainer stepped away from the bulkhead. Phaser low. Not aimed. Yet. The footsteps came closer. A figure appeared in the red emergency light. Rainer raised the phaser. “Stop.” The figure stopped. Engineering uniform. Young man. Blood running from his forehead. His hands came up. “Damage control.” “Identification.” He stared at her. “What?” “Identification.” “Are you serious?” Rainer's phaser didn't move. The engineer looked at it. Then slowly reached toward his uniform. Patel watched from beside the door. The engineer produced his identification. Rainer took it with her free hand. The emergency lights went white. Normal illumination returned. The engineer blinked. Rainer looked at his card. Then his face. Then the terminal. Authorized. Damage control. She lowered the phaser. “Go.” He took his identification. “You people are insane.” He hurried past. Rainer watched him disappear. Patel was still beside the door. Rainer holstered the phaser. Patel looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “That's everyone's favorite fucking answer today.” Patel didn't respond. Rainer looked down the corridor. Nothing moved. She looked back at Patel. “You going somewhere?” Patel seemed to remember she was. “Mess.” “Then go.” Patel started away. After several steps she turned. “Rainer.” “What?” Patel hesitated. “Nothing.” Rainer stared at her. Patel walked away. Rainer watched until she disappeared around the junction. Then she looked at the computer-core door. Red lock indicator. Normal. Everything normal. Her feet still hurt. * * * Ox finally sat in the chair. It had taken eight hours. He wasn't sure why that seemed important. The armory passage was empty. His phaser sat against his hip. His identification rested on his thigh. He had started keeping it there because reaching into his uniform had become annoying. A security crewman approached. Ox stood. The crewman already had his identification out. Ox checked it. “Reason?” “Replacement power pack.” “Authorization?” The crewman handed him the requisition. Ox checked that too. “Go ahead.” The crewman entered the armory. Ox sat again. The chair creaked. He looked down the corridor. Nothing. He scratched his cheek. Nothing. He looked toward the armory door. Nothing. The ship shook. Ox stayed seated for perhaps half a second. Then the deck jumped hard enough to throw him out of the chair. He hit the bulkhead shoulder-first. The chair slid across the passage and struck the opposite wall. The lights flickered. Ox heard something break inside the armory. The door opened. The security crewman stumbled out. “You all right?” Ox pushed himself upright. “Yep.” Another impact came. This one sounded different. Closer. The deck snapped sideways. Ox grabbed the doorframe. The other crewman went down. An alarm began somewhere. Ox reached for him. “Come on.” The man took his arm. Ox pulled him up. The armory door was still open. Ox looked inside. Weapons racks. Power packs. Equipment. Several cases had fallen. One phaser lay on the deck. Ox looked at the corridor. Then the armory. Then the crewman. “Inside.” “What?” “Get inside.” The man moved. Ox followed. He picked up the loose phaser and returned it to the rack. Another case shifted as Enterprise moved beneath them. Ox caught it before it fell. The crewman stared at him. “What the hell is happening?” Ox secured the case. “Don't know.” The communicator on his belt sounded. “Security posts, report.” Ox opened it. “Armory two. Secure.” Other voices followed. Engineering secure. Computer core secure. Communications secure. Junction twelve secure. Ox listened until Kane's voice came through. “Kane to armory two.” “Here.” “Status?” “Everything's where it's supposed to be.” Ox looked at the chair lying on its side outside the open door. “Mostly.” A pause. “Secure the armory.” “Yep.” Ox closed the door. The lock engaged. The crewman looked at him. “My power pack.” Ox looked at the requisition still in his hand. Then at the locked door. Then at the crewman. He opened it again. * * * Hale stopped trying to understand the ship. For most of the day he'd believed that if he accumulated enough information, the information would eventually become useful. Names. Times. Locations. Access requests. Duty assignments. Irregularities. Patterns. There should have been an answer somewhere inside them. Now the terminal displayed half a dozen damage-control movements, three emergency authorizations and more people crossing Engineering than Hale could track. He deleted nothing. He also stopped trying to make it mean anything. A technician approached. Hale checked her identification. Authorized. Another. Authorized. A medical orderly. Authorized. Two engineers. Authorized. A security specialist Hale had known for six months. Hale checked him too. The specialist didn't complain. Nobody complained anymore. The deck trembled beneath them. Hale watched a status indicator blink from green to amber. Then back to green. He entered the irregularity. His fingers stopped. He looked at what he'd written. Then deleted it. The specialist beside him noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” The man nodded. That was enough. He continued through Engineering. Hale watched him go. The tricorder in Hale's hand beeped. He looked down. Nothing important. For the first time all day, he believed it. * * * Mercer stopped being afraid sometime during the ninth hour. That worried him. He didn't think the danger had passed. He didn't know whether there had ever been danger. He was simply too tired to maintain fear indefinitely. His body had apparently made the decision without consulting him. The ship shook. Mercer grabbed the bulkhead. Then continued checking an identification card. Name. Photograph. Assignment. Authorization. “Thank you.” He handed it back. The crewman hurried away. Mercer looked at Kane. “You ever get used to this?” “Yes.” Mercer waited. Kane said nothing else. “That doesn't sound good.” “It isn't.” Mercer looked down the corridor. A woman in sciences blue appeared. Identification. Check. Authorized. She passed. A man in engineering red. Identification. Check. Authorized. He passed. A command lieutenant Mercer recognized. Identification. The lieutenant stared at him. Mercer waited. The lieutenant produced it. Mercer checked. Authorized. “Thank you, sir.” The lieutenant continued. Mercer watched him disappear. Then looked at Kane. Kane was looking at the wall panel opposite them. Mercer followed his gaze. Nothing. “What?” Kane looked at him. Mercer nodded toward the panel. “You were looking at something.” “Yes.” “What?” “Reflection.” Mercer looked again. The polished edge of the panel caught part of the junction behind them. Not much. Enough to see movement. Mercer shifted slightly. The angle changed. The corridor behind him appeared in the metal. He looked at Kane. Kane was already watching somewhere else. Mercer looked back at the reflection. A crewman appeared. Mercer turned. “Identification.” * * * Nobody knew when the tenth hour began. The chronometers did. Nobody else cared. The duty-room sandwiches had become hard at the edges. The coffee was gone. Someone had made more. That was worse. Rainer drank it anyway. Hale sat with his eyes closed. Not asleep. Probably. Ox had discovered something wrapped in paper and was eating it. Mercer didn't ask. Kane stood at the terminal. The five of them had been pulled from their posts for six minutes. Mercer knew because this time he was watching the clock. Rainer finished the coffee. “That tastes like somebody washed a boot in it.” Ox looked at his food. “Want some?” “What is it?” Ox looked inside the paper. “Don't know.” “No.” Hale opened his eyes. “Could be meat.” Rainer looked at him. Hale closed his eyes again. Mercer smiled. The overhead speaker clicked. Every person in the room stopped. Mercer felt his stomach tighten. A voice came through. “All security stations. Maintain Condition One.” Rainer closed her eyes. “Fuck.” The speaker clicked off. Nobody moved. Then Kane picked up his communicator. “Back to posts.” Rainer stared at him. “You heard the same thing I did?” “Yes.” “We're still doing this?” “Yes.” “For how long?” “Until we're not.” Rainer looked toward the ceiling. “Outstanding.” Ox folded the paper around whatever he had been eating. Hale stood. Mercer pushed away from the wall. Nobody moved quickly. Nobody moved slowly either. They simply went. * * * Another hour. Then another. Nothing happened. That wasn't completely true. Things happened constantly. Enterprise changed course. The deck tilted. The lights flickered. Damage-control teams moved through restricted areas. Medical personnel appeared where medical personnel normally weren't. Engineering crews carried equipment through corridors where Mercer had never seen engineering equipment. A door jammed. Rainer swore at it. The door opened. She swore at it again. Hale found twenty-seven new irregularities and investigated every one. Ox sat in the chair. Kane appeared everywhere. Mercer checked Lieutenant Carver again. Carver stopped in front of him. Neither man spoke. Carver reached into his uniform and handed over his identification. Mercer checked it. Carver watched him. Mercer handed it back. “Thank you, sir.” Carver took it. He looked tired. Mercer suspected he looked worse. Carver started away. Then stopped. Mercer waited. Carver looked back. “Still don't think I'm a spy?” Mercer looked at him. “No, sir.” Carver nodded. “Good.” He walked away. Mercer watched him disappear around the junction. Then turned back to his post. * * * The end came without drama. No alarm. No final impact. No running security team. The overhead speaker clicked. Mercer looked up. “All decks. Security Condition One is secured. Department heads return personnel to standard watch rotations.” Silence. Mercer waited. He wasn't sure for what. The speaker clicked off. Across the corridor, Kane closed his communicator. Mercer looked at him. “That's it?” “Yes.” Mercer looked down the corridor. A crewman walked toward them. For a second Mercer almost stepped into his path. He stopped himself. The crewman passed. No identification. No authorization. No reason for access. Just a man walking down a corridor. Mercer watched him go. “That feels wrong.” “Yes.” Mercer looked at Kane. Kane had already started toward the duty room. Mercer followed. * * * Hale joined them at the next junction. Ox appeared one deck later. Rainer was last. Nobody said much. They had been standing watch for so long that walking somewhere without checking everyone they passed felt vaguely irresponsible. A technician came around the corner. Mercer's eyes went automatically to his hands. Hale looked at his uniform. Rainer watched his face. Ox nodded to him. The technician nodded back. They passed each other. Nothing happened. Enterprise sounded normal again. The ventilation hummed. Doors opened. Doors closed. Someone laughed somewhere beyond a junction. A yeoman hurried past carrying padds. Two engineers argued quietly beside a wall terminal. A lieutenant stepped out of a turbolift and walked away without five armed security personnel demanding to know why. The ship had returned to itself. Or perhaps it had never stopped being itself. Mercer was too tired to decide. Ox yawned. Rainer looked at him. “Don't.” Ox closed his mouth. “What?” “You'll start me.” Hale yawned. Rainer glared at him. Hale looked apologetic. Mercer started laughing. Not much. Just enough. Rainer pointed at him. “Fuck you too.” Kane kept walking. The duty room was two junctions away. Mercer could already see the door. He thought about the coffee he'd abandoned hours ago. He wondered whether it was still there. Probably. Enterprise coffee seemed capable of surviving anything. Ox moved ahead of him. Hale followed Kane. Mercer walked behind them. Rainer was last. They turned the final junction. Rainer stopped. It wasn't a decision. A shiver ran suddenly across her shoulders and down both arms. She stood still. Mercer and the others continued ahead. Rainer looked back. The corridor behind her was empty. White bulkheads. Closed doors. Steady lights. A wall terminal glowing quietly beside the junction. She listened. Ventilation. Machinery. Footsteps fading in the other direction. Nothing else. Rainer stared down the corridor. Nothing moved. Nothing waited. Nothing was wrong. “Rainer.” Mercer's voice came from ahead. She looked toward him. He stood near the duty-room door. “What?” “You coming?” Rainer looked back once more. The corridor remained exactly what it was. A corridor. She rubbed one arm. “Yeah.” Then she turned and followed them.