Birthday Story

Each year on my birthday I post a story here on my blog. This year January was a little bit crazy and I was not able to polish up the story they way I would like, but I still want to post something. So I’ve decided to post a completed draft of a story that I’m still working on. Because it is a draft, there are likely all sorts of continuity errors and typos. Those are the kind of things that will be fixed in future drafts. The story can be found behind the cut below. The prior years’ stories can be found through these links: 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008

The air smelled of fake lilacs. Madison knew they were fake because she could taste the chemicals that carried the smell through the air. It was the wrong time of year for lilacs anyway. Madison wiggled her bare toes against the metal deck of the ship. The metal was pleasantly warm. In her youth it had been common for the sun to warm metal to searing temperatures, that did not happen with modern alloys. “Thermal resistant” the metal was called. Madison just knew that the metal felt oilier on bare skin. She liked the feel, just as she liked the thrum of the hover engines vibrating through her bare feet and through her hand on the deck rail. It reminded her of the years she’d spent designing and testing engines like the ones that propelled this ship.

“Mrs. Olson, where are your shoes?”

Madison turned toward the strident voice. “Hello John. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Mrs. Olson, your daughter bought you those shoes. Where are they?”

John always arrived accompanied by a breeze of antiseptic soap. Madison suspected him of scrubbing off contamination from his patients the moment he left them. Why such an un-nurturing person would want to work on a mobile retirement community puzzled Madison.

The shoes had been fancy and expensive, with internal servos and chips designed to keep her balanced and to cushion impacts. They sensed obstacles and alerted her to danger. Can’t let the blind old woman run into anything. It had been like wrapping her feet in fog with an attached foghorn.

“I did not like the shoes.”

“I know that Mrs. Olson, but your doctor and your daughter both say you should wear them. Now where are they.”

“I threw them overboard.”

A gust of antiseptic washed across her. The railing shifted under her hand. Madison pictured John leaning over the rail in an attempt to find the long gone shoes. Of course picturing John was hard since she’d never seen him, but Madison always imagined he looked like her junior high math teacher, lanky with a potbelly and a disapproving look.

The rail creaked back into place. “I’m going to have to call your daughter.” John scolded.

Madison opened her mouth to reply, but stopped. The vibration under her feet hiccupped and altered slightly.

“Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?” John’s voice was puzzled.

“The engines changed.”

“The engines are just fine Mrs. Olson. It is time for you to come in and rest.” A firm hand took hold of Madison’s arm. Madison did not resist the pull, but with each step she felt for the vibration of the engines. It was hard with John’s heavy footsteps creating counter vibrations in the deck. She felt the change in air pressure and the hollow sound that meant they’d entered the hallway. Her room would be 47 steps down and to the left. The collapsible cane in her pocket chimed when they reached the door.

“You have a nice rest now.” John hustled her in and was gone before she could answer. She didn’t want to answer anyway. She stepped quickly to the bathroom. It was easier to feel the engines on the hard floor than on the carpet. Madison also put both hands and one cheek against the wall. It was hard to tell, but she thought the magnetic oscillations were longer than they had been before. If that were so, it was very bad news. That meant one of the magnetic converters had failed. Converter failure was cause for immediate grounding of the ship, but the ship continued on its level course. Madison stepped away from the wall and headed for the door. She needed to be closer to the engines to tell for sure.

Madison paused in the doorway of her apartment, listening for the shuffling sound of footsteps on carpet. There were none. No one was in the hallway. She also took a deep breath, but the smell of John’s antiseptic soap had already dissipated. Madison pulled the cane from her pocket and keyed the map function.

“Directions to engineering.” She said in the clipped tone that was easiest for the machine to understand.

“You are not allowed access to that area.” The cane chirped in response.

Madison sighed. Not unexpected. She’d just have to find it herself. She pulled her cane open with a snick and walked down the hallway. The cane read the doorplates to her as she walked past them. Usually she turned this feature off, but today she would need it.

The thrum of the engines and the quiet voice of the cane lead her out of the passenger areas, through a galley, and into a hard floored passageway. It was chillier than Madison was accustomed to and she pulled her sweater tighter around her narrow shoulders. Cold never used to bother her, but now she was cold frequently. She just chalked it up to yet another effect of aging along with the wrinkles and the fingers that were less nimble. Her bare feet felt like ice on the hard floor. She almost wished for the shoes back.

“restricted access. Crew only.” The cane chirped. Madison smiled as she opened the door. Once again she paused in the doorway, listening for sounds of other people. There were none, but the sound of the engine was much louder. The door must have been designed to muffle the sound. She’d entered a corridor. She could feel the narrowness of the space. Sure enough when she reached out her arms, her fingers touched both sides. She lay one hand flat against the wall. The engine thrummed in her hand, down her wrist, and up her shoulder. The same happened from both feet. Madison breathed slow listening to the oscillation and timing it against her internal clocks of breath and heartbeat. It was slower. One of the converters was offline. The emergency board in engineering should be lit up like a Christmas tree. So either the sensors were also faulty (unlikely) or someone was not doing her job. Madison could have hit them. What was the point of good engineering if idiots chose to ignore the warning systems. Unless something was done, this ship was headed for a crash.

Madison leaned away from the wall and listened for anything that might guide her to engineering. The thrum of the engines was loud enough here that it interfered with her sense of the space. She could feel a draft coming from the hallway to her right. The draft carried the sharp tang of metal. But then the whole hallway smelled and felt of metal. Madison breathed deep. She much preferred the smell of good honest metal over fake lilac. Was there a hint of machine oil in the draft? It was the only guide she had, so Madison turned toward the smell and headed down the hall.

Soon Madison could hear the murmur of voices up ahead. She passed several doors, but her can had stopped reading doorplates, so she didn’t know what they were. The door reader function must only work in the passenger areas. The voices grew louder and Madison could tell that she’d come to an open doorway. She paused before stepping to where the voices could see her. She listened to see if she could hear some of what was being said.

The voices were too jumbled together and the engines too loud, but she did hear footsteps walking briskly down the hall from whence she’d come. It was John. She’d know that annoyed tread anywhere. Madison quickly stepped into the doorway and pitched her voice loud.

“Excuse me! I need to speak to an engineer!”

The voices halted, but whatever response they might have made was drowned out by John’s firm voice

“Mrs. Olson! You know you’re not supposed to be here!”

Madison ignored John and spoke again “One of the magnetic converters in the engine has failed. You need to shut down now.”

John reached her side and took a firm hold on her arm. “I’m sorry sir. I don’t know how she got here. I’ll take her back to the passenger areas immediately.” He was talking past her, over her to someone else. Suddenly Madison thought how she must look, a blind little old lady with white hair (had she remembered to brush it today?) and bare feet. She must look the picture of aged senility. Many of the passengers were senile, no one would doubt John if he were to claim she was. John started to firmly tow her down the hall. She resisted, but her old muscles had little strength and the firm hand hardly even noticed her struggle.

“Tell the chief engineer to run a coil recalibration! Check the Lev boards! The ship needs to ground before more converters fail in a cascade!” She shouted the words toward the doorway as she was pulled down the hall. She also banged her cane against the wall. Anything to draw attention.

“Hold on a minute.” The deep voice had an air of authority.

John stopped walking, but did not release Madison’s arm. “Sir. I’m sorry she bothered you. I came as soon as the tracker alerted me.”

Tracker? Madison felt the nobby top of the cane in her hand. She should have known it would have a tracker in it.

“It’s alright orderly. Let me talk to her a minute.” The owner of the deep voice stepped closer, she could smell the clean cotton of his uniform. It was a pleasant smell, like wash day when she was little. Madison straightened and spoke as clearly as she could. She needed to sound reasonable, not senile.

“You must tell the engineer to ground the ship. One of the mag converters failed and if it isn’t fixed you’ll have a cascading fail of the other converters and the ship will crash.”

“How do you know so much about ship engines?”

“I helped design them. You really don’t have time to chat. The converter failed over an hour ago.”

“If a converter failed, the Lev Board would have indicated it. What is your name?”

Madison gripped her cane tighter. “You don’t have time. Go tell the chief engineer! He’ll know what I’m talking about!”

“I am the Chief Engineer.”

John’s grip had grown uncertain on her arm, but it firmed up now. “I’ll just take her back to her room. She needs a rest.

Madison could just picture the rest. She could also picture the way the John and the other orderlies would hover around her after this, the way they did for all the senile wanderers. But then that annoying vision would not have time to come to pass because any minute now…

It happened again. The vibration of the floor hiccupped. Then the pitch of the engines changed again. The oscillation now uneven and slowing.

“Can’t you feel that?” She yelled at the engineer, but the only response was the sound of his footsteps running away from her.

“Ground the ship!” he shouted before he rounded some corner out of hearing. The vibration hiccupped again. Three converters down, the remaining five would be quick to follow. Each would fail more quickly than the one before, overloaded by the burden of keeping the hovering ship afloat. Now the engines were obviously struggling. The floor beneath Madison’s feet began to tilt. John let go of her arm, just when she could have used it to steady herself. Madison reached out for a wall, but misjudged its location and over balanced. She fell to the floor and felt the painful crack in her hip. It was broken she suspected.

“Are you all right Mrs. Olson?” John’s voice actually sounded concerned, and a little scared. She wouldn’t have thought he had it in him. She hissed from the pain in her hip, but managed to get out.

“Hang on to something. This may get bumpier.”

There was a rustle of fabric and then warm arms scooped around Madison’s shoulders. The comfort of touch was so great that Madison did not even mind the antiseptic smell. She held on tight as the floor tipped even further. Then another converter failed. Not a huccup this time, but a lurch. Half gone. Madison imagined that the captain and the engineer were frantically attempting to find a place for an emergency landing. They must have succeed because just after another lurch, the whole ship jittered then tipped back the other direction, and stopped. The engines sputtered into silence.

Madison gave a shuddering sigh. The ship was grounded. There would be no crash today. She heard John talking into a comlink, summoning medical help. It might be a while in coming. No doubt all the passengers were in various states of distress from the unplanned excitement. Madison just concentrated on breathing instead of the pain.

After awhile footsteps walked up to them.

“Is she okay?” It was the chief engineer

“I think she broke her hip.” Answered John. “She fell. Medical is on the way.”

Madison turned her head toward the engineer’s voice. “The ship, is it okay?”

“It’ll be just fine. We’ve landed in a nice meadow and repair crews will be here in a couple of hours. The only thing left to do is fire the idiot who wired his own personal coffee maker into the Lev Board and played merry hell with the emergency readouts.”

Madison nodded. An Idiot. It took an idiot to mess up good engineering. She ran a hand softly over the metal floor of the ship. It was a good ship.
Then medical arrived with their lovely painkillers and Madison was able to rest.