that no more eggs were broken, and the crew was all still there. They would most likely have to run a complete roll call again, and re-check all the ship’s records. Fedorov had made a point of keeping a database running, and reinforced with battery backup power after their last head count. He had thought that the magnetic field surrounding the ship’s electronics might have served to exert some kind of stabilizing effect when the ship shifted. Perhaps, he thought, that data will remain unaltered.
“The shift,” he said. “Did we have any other problems?”
“It’s only four bells, Mister Fedorov, 14:00. Shift change comes at eight bells when the new watch comes on duty, which gives you two hours for rest, and perhaps a little food would do you some good as well.”
Now Fedorov remembered how the others on the bridge had forgotten names, forgotten that men had ever served with them. It had taken some time before their memory was jogged loose, and he remembered Admiral Volsky saying something about rattling the Vodka cabinet down here with Doctor Zolkin. Yes, it was about Chief Dobrynin. The Admiral said they used to take a nip or two here with Zolkin.
“Doctor,” he said, deciding to see if Zolkin remembered the man. “Was there any problem reported with the reactors?”
“Who knows? At least Dobrynin hasn’t been in here complaining. You would have to ask him, Mister Fedorov.”
“Dobrynin? Then you remember?” Fedorov struggled to sit up now, watched closely by the doctor.
“Remember what?” Zolkin was giving Fedorov a studied glance, as if he were still assessing his overall condition and state of mind.
“Chief Dobrynin. You remember him from engineering?”
“Of course,” said Zolkin. “Who else can keep the ship running, and all while listening to Tchaikovsky.”
“That’s a relief,” said Fedorov, though something in the way the Doctor said that seemed slightly off tune. “You speak of him in the present tense,” he said. “I suppose it is still hard… considering what happened to him and the others, particularly Lenkov. I’m not sure which was the crueler fate.”
Zolkin cocked his head to one side. “Now you are speaking in riddles, Fedorov. What do you suppose has happened to Dobrynin? I would certainly be one of the first to know if he reported sick, and I haven’t seen him this morning.”
“Didn’t you hear the news about him, and the others… Orlov, Tasarov, Kamenski? Haven’t you been briefed yet?”
“Briefed? Nobody bothers with that these days, but believe it or not, I hear far more about what is happening on this ship than you may realize. Every rumor and whisper eventually finds its way here to sick bay, much of it hogwash. But I get a good feel for what is going on in spite of that. Yet concerning Orlov and the others, I’ve heard nothing unusual. That last fellow you mention does not ring a bell. What was the name?”
“Kamenski,” said Fedorov, giving Zolkin the same appraising look that he was getting from the Doctor. “Director Kamenski, our guest up in the spare officer’s cabin.”
Zolkin merely shrugged. “If he isn’t ever sick, I probably don’t know the man.”
“But you examined him yourself,” said Fedorov, “right here when we were discussing the discovery of Karpov in Siberia with the Admiral.” He gave Zolkin an expectant look, hoping that would be enough to jog his memory, and fearing that he was also suffering the effects of the shift, forgetting things, faces, men, lives.
“It’s enough just to put names to all the faces I see here each day,” said Zolkin, “and I know a good many—probably know this crew better than any man on the ship, except the Chief. I do have a better bedside manner than Orlov, or so I’ve been told.”
Fedorov smiled. At least he remembered Orlov. “It was hard to lose him,” he said.
“Lose who?” Zolkin folded his arms now.
“Orlov,” said Fedorov sullenly. “I’ve been trying to sort it all through, and I was thinking it may have had something to do with the time he spent with that object he found in Siberia. Dobrynin was with it for some time as well, and I had something strange happen to my hand, though I never came here about it.”
“Your hand looks fine to me, Fedorov. But what is this talk about an object from Siberia?”
Fedorov took a deep breath. “I mentioned that the last time I was down here, before the shift. Remember? Well, I suppose there’s been too much going on around here, but at least you