Crystal Singer #05 - Nimisha's Ship by Anne McCaffrey

Author:Anne McCaffrey [McCaffrey, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adventure, Science Fiction, Fiction, General, Space Opera, Space Ships
ISBN: 9780345434258
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 1993-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

When Timmy was engaged in eating and watching a vid, the two men told the women what they had discovered in the rest of the ship.

“I don’t think there were any survivors, not with the damage to the bridge area. Below, we found skeletons—practically every bone in their bodies had been broken,” Jon said soberly. “Helm augmented our findings by his sensor readings. The log data he’s accessed so far indicated that they’d dumped fuel in the hope of surviving a crash landing. Maybe one or two did. Crew complement was eighteen on a vessel this size. We found twelve skeletons. We figure the other six would have been on duty on the bridge. Nothing could have got into the crew quarters. The doors were still shut. In fact, we had trouble prying them open.”

“Helm reports accessing their names and home ports,” Casper said. “Their families will benefit.”

“If we can get a report back,” Jon said with a diffident shrug.

Nimisha waited a moment, controlling her irritation. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Syrona give Casper an anxious look.

“You really are a pessimist, aren’t you, Captain?” It took Nimisha all her self-control not to color that remark with her true feelings.

“I’ve had to be . . . ma’am.”

“Hey, you two, there aren’t enough of us to be at each other’s throats,” Casper said, a placatory smile on his face.

Jon laughed and waved toward Casper. “The eternal optimist.”

“I came, didn’t I?” Nimisha said. She smiled all around the table. “The point is, we can improve our situations now, can’t we? We can make a serious attempt at cultivating another alien species. We can investigate the other two M-type worlds. I’d rather one that didn’t have as many predators if we want to be safe until . . . help . . . comes!” She stressed those words. “Because help will come.” She glared at Jon and then at Syrona. “I am proof.”

“Of what?”

“Oh . . .” Nimisha’s patience was strained. “Proof that our technology is capable of finding us, no matter how far away our home worlds are.”

“You, you mean,” Syrona said almost angrily.

“I’ve heard enough of this,” Doc said in a stern voice. “You do not need to wrangle with each other. You’re all you have. So hear this, loud and clear. The euphoria of discovery has dissipated and you’re all experiencing a quite logical swing toward depression. There is no need for acrimony. My programming tends for me to side with you optimists, but then I am aware, as an extensively programmed Artificial Intelligence, how far our technology has progressed from state-of-the-art as you would have known it, Captain Svangel. Message pulse sending is now highly refined, and a pulsed message will reach some listening ear, if it hasn’t already. I highly recommend that you finish your meals and get a good night’s rest. You’ll need it tomorrow for clear thinking in dealing with the small people. Understand?”

“My apologies,” Jon said formally, and bowed to Nimisha.

“Mine as well,” Syrona said meekly.

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