Free Wreck of the Nebula Dream by Veronica Scott Page B

laughing a bit nervously, but no sign of any SMT crew members.  
    Nick didn’t like this at all, not one bit. It was obvious to him the captain was lying to avoid alarming the passengers and starting a panic. Intent on making one more attempt to communicate with McElroy through the AI, Nick returned to his cabin. If unsuccessful, he was going to the bridge to find out the Dream ’s condition. In an emergency, he could use his military standing to demand a briefing from one of the ship’s officers. And he would volunteer his services in any way useful to ship or crew.
    “The SMT Line apologizes for this second interruption to your smooth journey,” the Ship was saying as he set foot in the cabin. The door slid shut behind him with an unusual slam, causing Nick to half turn and eye it. “SMT will be issuing credit vouchers to all passengers once we reach Sector Hub, as a gesture of goodwill for the inconvenience.”
    The Ship announced something else but cut off in midword. There was an unpleasant buzzing. Captain Bonlors appeared again, but his image floated in the center of the cabin, not saying anything.
    Nick stared at this apparition with cold anger, having no desire to hear another set of worthless platitudes. He wheeled to return to the corridor and as he did so, the lights dimmed dramatically. Emergency sirens began shrieking. Nick was unable to hear himself think over the din. Stalking through the mute image of the captain, he keyed the door.
    The portal opened sluggishly. He shoved past once there was enough space for his broad shoulders. Back pressed against the half-open door, he stood for a moment, assessing the current situation in the corridor. It now added up to pandemonium in any language. The alarms were continuing to blare, inciting some passengers to panic and immobilizing others. A prerecorded voice urged calm, in flat, female tones, speaking in a rapid rotation of Basic and the five other primary Sector languages.
    No one was paying the slightest attention. People ran in both directions, shoving past each other. Some were half dressed, others were burdened with luggage. There were no crew members at all.
    Frowning, he waded into the crowd, going to the left and staying as close to the wall as he could. Since a Special Forces team’s survival depended on familiarity with all aspects of their environment, Nick had noted the location of the nearest lifeboat portal relative to his cabin upon arrival the first day. Now he worked his way aft to get there.
    With supreme – if sadly misplaced – confidence, the captain of the Nebula Dream had not seen fit to order a lifeboat drill in the first few days of the cruise, not even after the middle of the night engine anomaly. Lack of a drill, which was mandatory per the Interstellar Commerce Commission regulations, was adding to the panic, Nick had no doubt. Most had probably not even paid attention to the short holo on safety the Ship played on first entry in each cabin. Now the civilians were clueless, desperate, and those charged with responsibility for their safety were nowhere to be seen.
    As he came up to the lifeboat portal, Nick was astounded to see the light flashing red, indicating the LB had been launched. What the fuck ? There couldn’t possibly have been time since the sirens came on to fully load and deploy a boat, even assuming a full complement of SMT crew had been standing by, waiting to usher passengers on board.
    Continuing down the corridor, Nick wondered who took the LB, and how many people had managed to escape with it. He suspected he wouldn’t like the answers much, but he intended to find out, after this was all over. For an event of this magnitude, an ICC investigatory hearing was a foregone conclusion.  
    The crowd increased in size, and the screams and yells became more specific, the closer he got to the next LB davit. Since Nick was a tall man, he could see over the heads of most of the crowd. Despite the fact the alarms had