The men sat, collectively holding their breath.
“Kayehalau, contact the bridge immediately!”
Nothing.
With a frantic edge to his voice, he tried again. “Em, this is an order!”
Silence.
Aaron shouted into the com link. “Doctor Hypatia, where the fuck are you? Quit screwing around and call the goddamn bridge! Kayehalau, call the bridge right fucking now!”
Ford pulled up the ship’s scanners and desperately tried to locate Emi.
Caph stood and walked over, reading the screen over Ford’s shoulder. “Shit,” he softly whispered.
Behind them Aaron still screamed into the com link, his voice cracking in desperation. “Em! Call the bridge right now!”
“She’s gone,” Caph whispered. “She was in the pod. It’s her last registered location. They were down there in cargo together, and now she’s gone.”
Aaron jumped from the command chair and bolted from the bridge, the other two men on his heels. They didn’t pass Kayehalau in the corridors as they made their way to aft cargo and stared at the closed lifepod port.
“We’ve got to stop the jump,” Aaron hoarsely whispered. “We’ve got to get back to her.”
Ford slowly shook his head. “We can’t. You know that.”
“We have to!”
“We’d destroy the jump engine and likely fry the whole ship’s power grid in the process. Aaron, you know that. It has to complete the jump cycle before we can do an immediate turnaround.”
He turned on Ford and screamed, “She’s out there alone!”
“Don’t you think I know that!” Ford yelled back, in Aaron’s face.
Caph stepped between them and pushed them apart. “Where’s that fucking Kayehalau at?” he softly said. “We’ve got to find him. He was down here with her when it happened. See if he knows what the fuck’s going on.”
Aaron got on the com link. “Kayehalau,” he barked, “this is Captain Lucio. Report immediately.”
Nothing.
“Find his ass,” Aaron growled at Ford. “I want it on a fucking silver platter.” Kayehalau’s words to him in the galley after Emi’s interrupted striptease came to mind. How he apologized for causing Emi’s discomfort, but how the tone of the words at the time had hit him wrong.
Maybe Emi had been right all along.
Cold dread flooded Aaron’s gut. “Find him. Now.”
Ford logged in to his console from the cargo bay override panel. “He’s in sick bay. Alone.”
The men raced from the cargo bay. Five minutes later, they charged through the door of sick bay.
They stopped at the sight of Kayehalau’s lifeless body stretched out on the bunk. A voice recorder lay on his motionless chest. A hypo with an empty bolus, and two additional empty boluses of potassium lay on the bunk next to him.
“Fucker killed himself,” Ford said as he picked up the hypo, which held a third, now-empty bottle of potassium. “Shit. He was alive when I tracked his chip.” He reached over and touched Kayehalau’s arm. “Warm. He just did it.” He looked at Aaron. “Want me to try to revive him?”
“If you do, I’ll fucking beat your ass.” Aaron reached out, grabbed the voice recorder, and hit play.
Kayehalau’s placid voice filed the sick bay. “Dear Captain Lucio. By the time you find this, you will have discovered Dr. Hypatia’s untimely departure. I am afraid this is my fault.” He went on to detail what he’d done, indicating notes he’d left on the sick bay computer for synthesizing the antidote to the drugs he’d given her in case they found her alive.
“She was right all along in her assessment of me, Captain. I did not count on her empathic abilities overwhelming the effects of the drugs I gave her. I never intended to do her harm. I certainly never intended for this to happen. Since I am going to die anyway, the only honorable thing I can do now is end my life. I hope you find her safely before irreparable damage is done. My most humble apologies for what I have caused. Please use this at any official inquiry as evidence against me. I fully admit my part in this, and my guilt. I alone caused this.”
Aaron felt the strength leave his legs. Fortunately, Caph caught him and eased him into a chair.
“She was right,” Aaron whispered. “Son of a bitch, she was right the whole time. She didn’t want him on board from the second she met him in Dobros’ office. She begged me to refuse the assignment.” He closed his eyes. “I didn’t listen to her.” He cradled his head in his hands. “Oh, no, I didn’t listen to her.”
Ford tapped into the sick bay computer. “Found them. Here’s his notes.” He transferred a copy to his personal handheld. “Motherfucker had it planned down to the second. He was going to transfer them to her, then remove them from her when we emerged from the jump. Fucker was going to use her as his incubator.” He slammed his fist against the desk. “Son of a bitch! She said she didn’t trust him. Why the hell didn’t I believe her? Why the fuck didn’t I listen to her?”
“Because he planned it,” Caph softly said. “He planned it that way so we wouldn’t. He wanted us to think she was going through space sickness. He didn’t want us to believe her.” He turned and walked out of sick bay. From the corridor, the other two men heard Caph’s long, anguished wail and a loud crash as he kicked or punched something.
Chapter Twelve
Emi struggled to focus. After five days in the pod, she knew without a doubt she was losing her memory.
At times, she just couldn’t remember why.
She’d made notes that auto-displayed on the pod control panel to remind her to do things like completing a log entry. And a trigger to instruct her to jettison the data buoy and activate the beacon if it looked like rescue wasn’t coming.
By day six she’d forgotten Caph’s last name and had to listen to her log notes to remember why she was there. And it was cold. So cold. In a moment of clarity, she caught herself bumping up the temperature yet again and included a reminder why she had to keep it cold. When she later realized she was ignoring that order and turning the temperature up anyway, she locked the thermostat down with a password.
Not like I’ll remember the password to unlock it, at this rate.
A nearly panicked giggle escaped her at that thought.
Out loud and silently, she repeated a mantra. She didn’t want to ever forget her men. Aaron, Caph, Ford.
Aaron, Caph, Ford.
By day nine, it had become a multisyllabic one-word chant. Aaroncaphford. At times she wasn’t sure what it meant, only that it was desperately important she try to remember.
By day twelve, Dr. Emilia Hypatia didn’t know her own name, much less what the small boxy thing was in the pocket of her sweatpants. She suspected some sort of instrument, but the reminder that kept popping up on the control panel screen said she had to leave it in her pocket. Then she had to follow more instructions to activate a beacon and dump a buoy, whatever those were. When a prompt asked if she wanted to clear the lifepod’s databanks after the buoy was jettisoned, she selected yes, since there were no instructions not to.
She also felt afraid. So afraid. And fucking cold! There didn’t seem to be a way to make it warmer. The thermostat setting had been locked by some goddamned doctor.
Why would a doctor want to keep it cold in here? Fucking bitch.
She wrapped the blankets around her more tightly.
* * * *
Where was she? She couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten here, only that she’d escaped, and at the time she’d been very afraid.
The rings on her left hand meant something, but she couldn’t quite remember what. Aaroncaphford.
Was that her name?
She spent her time staring out the view port into the inky blackness.
Chapter Thirteen
The woman lay on the bunk and shivered despite the four blankets securely strapped around her. She had no idea how she’d gotten there, or where she was. Only that it was cold.
And she was scared.
Aaroncaphford. She had no idea what that meant.
She didn’t even know her own name.
There was very little food. She suspected she’d better not eat unless she had to. Water also seemed to be at a premium. She guessed she might be in space based on what she saw through the small ports and the fact that if she released the strap holding her down to the bunk, she and her blankets wanted to float off.
Why is it sooo cold?
Aaroncaphford.
Was that where she was from? Going? Her?
She closed her eyes again and prayed whatever was going to happen happened soon.
Aaroncaphford.
Chapter Fourteen
The woman forced her eyes open and stared out the small view port. She had no idea where she was, how she got there…or who she was. All she knew was that she wished she had a bunch more blankets than she did.
Stars winked at her from outside the port.
Aaroncaphford.
She closed her eyes and let the blackness envelop her.
Chapter Fifteen
When a man is out of sight, it is not too long before he is out of mind.
—Thomas Kempis
The head scanner tech on the Beyant battle cruiser B’autachia normally spent his tedious shifts daydreaming about getting home. After this mission was over, he and his p’agdtein could stay home for the rest of their careers, take assignments on Beyantaeux, and enjoy their lives together. At least this last mission wasn’t one they’d have to worry about their asses getting shot off over.
By contrast, it was long and boring.
Then a wrinkle in his monotonous routine stirred him. An unexplained blip on the edge of their scanner’s reach, a regular signal, like a beacon of some sort.
“Sir?” He waved the commander over.
Commander Raoulx looked over his shoulder and frowned. “It just appeared?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Distress signal?”
“Unknown, sir.”
The commander studied the signal for a moment before he finally gave an order to the navigator. “Change course. Close distance. Slowly. Scan. And send someone to inform Ambassador Raoulx.”
“Yes, sir.”
Within a few hours, as they closed the distance, the regular repetition of the pattern made it obvious it was a distress beacon, although one they weren’t familiar with. After a little research, Commander Raoulx discovered it was an ISTC Terran vessel’s distress beacon.
The commander scowled. They had no ISTC treaty—yet—and technically couldn’t get involved in matters with treaty races. But if it was a distress beacon, he could not in good conscience turn his back regardless of any repercussions.
The ambassador concurred as he studied the scanner signal when he arrived on the bridge. “It is a tiny thing,” the ambassador said. “Smaller than our own escape ships. It must be an escape ship. It certainly can’t be much of a threat for a fully armed Beyantaeux battle cruiser.” He nodded, as if to reassure himself. “Intercept immediately.”
The commander bowed his head. “Yes, Father.”
They drew within tractor beam distance of the small vessel. Upon making visual contact and magnifying the view, it definitely looked like an escape vessel. They could clearly see DSMC markings visible on the side.
“Scanners,” the commander ordered again. “Fine gain, magnification 800.”
“One life-form, sir.”
“Alive?”
“I…I think so. Barely.”
The commander looked at the scanner readings. “It certainly appears to be Terran. I believe it is a female.” The commander had had limited contact with Terrans, but they were similar enough in biology one of their kind could survive in Beyant environment.
Feeding her might be an issue.
He’d deal with that once he got her on board. “Tractor beam, lowest strength setting, slowest return. Bring it into Landing Bay One. Carefully,” he warned. “Gently. With utmost care, as if it is your own child on board. We will do nothing to trigger the ire of the ISTC or the Terrans this close to treaty signing.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once the small craft, almost certainly an escape vessel from the looks of it, was safely stowed in their landing bay, the commander and a group of security forces converged on it. He looked through the small window and saw what did in fact appear to be a Terran female inside. Unconscious, or asleep.
He studied the markings on the craft’s exterior. He could speak several Terran languages to a certain extent, learned in preparation for their negotiations, but reading them was a different matter. They used complicated combinations of letters that sometimes made no sense to him. He tried a few things, then discovered a recessed panel that opened under his touch. A green button inside seemed their only option.
He pressed it.
The port slid open.
No reaction from the Terran.
He signaled for a ladder and drew his sidearm before he crawled inside.
The interior of the tiny vessel felt unbelievably cold. And the air tasted flat and stale, as if the scrubbers weren’t working.
The Terran lay cocooned in blankets and strapped to a bench. He suspected that meant either the escape vessel had no artificial gravity capability, or she’d turned it off to conserve energy.
She looked fragile, vulnerable, emaciated. Her flesh had a slightly bluish tinge that couldn’t possibly be normal or healthy based on other Terrans he’d seen. When he touched her cheek, she felt cold, much colder than he knew Terrans should normally exist. But the telltale throbbing of her pulse was visible in her neck.
He holstered his sidearm and began unfastening the straps securing her and her blanket cocoon to the bunk. “Bring a stretcher,” he called to his men. “Immediately! And alert Pachya to prepare sick bay.”
At the sound of his voice, her eyes fluttered open. Sunken, grey eyes full of fear.
He barely heard and didn’t understand the soft word she spoke before she fell unconscious again. “Aaroncaphford.”
* * * *
There was nothing in the escape vessel that could help them identify her. He also didn’t want to be caught with DSMC equipment on board his ship, even if it was an emergency. Having an undocumented Terran on board would be bad enough. At least they’d video recorded the events in minute detail, so if there were any questions later they could prove they didn’t forcibly abduct her and that they had no hand in her condition upon arrival.
He just prayed she survived.
After removing everything they could from the lifepod and finding the computer’s databanks empty, they resealed the pod and jettisoned it.
Their medical officer, Pachya, was useless with Terran physiology. Other than warming her body’s core temperature to a more acceptable level, his hands were tied.
“You are more familiar with Terrans than I am, Commander,” he said. “I scanned her and took a blood sample. I’ll go try to figure out her food needs.”
With Pachya declaring there was nothing more he could do for her directly at that time in sick bay, they moved her to a small guest cabin near the commander’s own cabin, where they could increase the room’s temperature for her comfort.
Raoulx pulled up a chair and sat by the bunk as he studied her sleeping profile. They’d tucked several warm packs under the blankets with her, as well as added several more blankets. As a result, her core temperature had already risen a few degrees.
He settled in to wait. As the ship’s commander, he needed answers. He wouldn’t leave until she awoke…or died.
Hours after they found her, she opened her eyes again, starting in fear as she saw him.
* * * *
The woman stared at the figure in the cabin. Did she know him? She felt fear thrum through her body, but wasn’t sure why.
He made no movement toward her. His dark skin, a reddish, almost orangey hue, looked alien to her, although she didn’t know why. His blond hair hung to his shoulders, an
d his large, black eyes peered at her.
“Hello.”
She frowned, not sure if she was expected to respond or not, although she recognized it as a greeting.
“Comment allez-vous?” His voice sounded deep, rich, and full of cautious warmth. The words, however, made no sense to her.
She stared at him, not understanding what he said.
He tried again. “Cómo estás?”
That almost sounded…familiar. She cocked her head to listen, studying him. The longer she stared at him, the more sure she grew he meant her absolutely no harm. In fact, she had the distinct impression that he’d saved her life.
She just didn’t know how she knew that.
“How are you?” he asked.
Her eyes widened. That she knew for certain she understood. She nodded.
“You do speak English standard, then.”
She stared at him. The words made sense to her. She licked her lips, which felt dry. “I…think so.”
His brow arched in surprise. “You think so? Why did you not answer me the first time?”
She stared at him.
“Who are you?”
That was a harder one. She spoke the only word that immediately came to mind. Speaking it felt right. “Aaroncaphford.”
“Is that your name? You said it earlier.”
In her brain, a deep, dangerous blackness swirled. Inside the whirlpool thoughts streamed by, too fragile, too tenuous to grasp and pull into her mind. “I…don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“How did you get in the escape vessel?”
“The what?”
The man sat back and studied her. “I believe Terrans call them ‘lifepods.’ We found you in such a vehicle. It bore DSMC markings on it. You were alone inside.”
“What is the DSMC?”
“You do not know?”
She slowly shook her head.
He frowned. “What happened to your ship?”
Out of Bight, Out of Mind Page 11
