Stellar Objects

Chapter 22: Fine Tuning

Grunge had the engine room to himself.

Following the attack, the fusion engine was as unstable as a pile of freshly dumped rubbish. The heat vents looked liked they'd never been cleaned – risking overheating at any moment, and the ship's electrical supply was taped together. Grunge checked that his feet were on the ground, amazed that this rickety old boat could still manage artificial gravity. But with the grotesque Engineer off-ship, it was his mess to fix. And he couldn't have been more excited.

He disconnected the venting and unclogged the arteries with a laser cutter. To keep himself company, Grunge hummed to himself as he pulled out the blockages of dust-clumps.

"Sorry about the frog," said his sister from the doorway. "I know you really want a pet."

"That's okay, " he said. "But check this out, there must be decades of vent-dust in here. Isn't it great!?"

Andra surveyed the venting tubes sprawled over the floor and nodded. "If you say so."

She stepped over a vent tube and wrapped Grunge in a hug. He liked her hugs – always warm, always strong – but he was busy right now. Grunge tried to wriggle free, and finally Andra let go.

"Are you okay, Andra?" he asked.

"I'm just happy we're together," she said. "It's just you and me, 'kay. Our loyalty is to each other. This arrangement – or whatever it is - doesn't change that. The rest of the people on this ship are just that...people on a ship."

Grunge didn't like it when Andra talked this way. To him, she sounded cynical and selfish. But he knew that without her, he'd have been picked off The Heap long ago. She'd kept him alive, and in return, he'd always stay with her.

"Just you and me," Grunge repeated. "But now, maybe, these people too. You know, like a family."

"They're not our family, George," she said, harshly. "They're complete strangers, and we don't know if we can trust any of 'em. And I know for certain that there's one we definitely can't."

Grunge heard a squeak from the corridor. He looked over to see the Captain sitting there in the doorway. Grunge didn't know how long he'd been listening in.

"My sentiments, exactly," said Captain Nayar. "But you, Andra, could've made a break for it with the shuttle and you didn't. That ups the trust in my books."

Grunge looked at his sister; his eyes chastising her for not running away when she had the chance to get free. It might've been her only chance.

"You should've—" he started to say.

"I wasn't going to leave you," she whispered, cutting him off. She turned towards the Captain. "I said I'd help and I am, but my first loyalty is to my brother."

The Captain smiled. "Loyalty's a good quality when it's not misplaced. And fortunately for you kids, my loyalty to myself includes self-preservation; an instinct that'll keep everyone on this ship alive so long as we don't do anything stupid. And speaking of, what's with the mess?"

"Venting was clogged," said Grunge. "Don't think it's ever been cleaned."

"Do you really know what you're doing, kid?" asked the Captain.

"George can fix anything," said Andra.

"I doubt that," said Captain Nayar. Grunge caught him glance down at his immobile legs. The Captain turned his chair to leave and it squeaked as he wheeled through back over the threshold.

"Wait," said Grunge. "You've got a wonky wheel."

The Captain stopped. "Is that some kind of Heap lingo?"

Grunge laughed. He grabbed a spanner and a vice grip and got to work. He loosened the wheel and realigned it. "Lift him up, just a bit," he asked Andra.

His sister lifted the front-left side of the Captain's wheelchair off the ground and Grunge spun the wheel with his hand. It still wobbled a bit and Grunge adjusted the threading and spritzed it with lubricant. By the time he slapped the rubber wheel again, it spun smoothly with a gentle whirl.

"That'll keep you going straight," Grunge said.

Andra lowered the chair down. Captain Nayar wheeled out without a squeak.

"He didn't even say thank you," said Andra.

"I don't think it's just his legs that are broken," said Grunge. "I think it's his heart."

"And his ship," said Andra. "Fix that first, okay?"

"Okay," said Grunge, returning to the venting.

Andra gave him another hug. "I'm going back to The Heap. And I want to be sure that if things go wrong, that you can get us out of there in a hurry."

She let go, releasing him to get back to fixing his engine. If Andra needed it up and running, he wouldn't let her down. He'd never let her down.