by A. Rhea King
“It needs to be replaced, Captain.”
“I can’t do anything about the computer right now, Ag, so how about I apologize for jumping to conclusions, you agree to tell me if Gracie interferes with your work again, and we fix this alarm right now. Can we do that?”
Ag nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Tru turned and tapped the control panel next to the bulkhead door. It disappeared, and the three climbed onto a catwalk inside the cannon shaft. Six catwalks ran the circumference of the circular shaft, each reached by two maintenance access tunnels. The group had come out on the second level, and from here they could look straight up the cannon muzzle. The lethal energy components inside were hidden in darkness, awaiting commands to move into position outside the ship and destroy something. Tru’s age and experience had quashed his childhood longing for battles and these days he was happy to see the cannon in it’s sleeping position.
“Lieutenant, go check the temperature sensors. I’ll start weapons diagnostics,” Ag ordered.
“What would you like me to do?” Tru asked.
Ag moved back a step. “Sir?”
“What would you like me to do?”
Ag was silent a moment and then pointed to a terminal station on the other side of the room. “The problem could also be in the relays. Do you know how to run diagnostics on them?”
“Yes.”
Tru walked over to the terminal and realized the diagnostic would only take a few minutes. He turned to ask what else he could do but stopped to stare. Dalekchi was climbing up the cannon like he was able to defy gravity.
Tru turned back to the panel and opened the cover. He laid a hand next to the controls and gasped as a premonition grabbed his consciousness and without mercy, yanked it through time.
A warning alarm was going off. Tru looked up, seeing the cannon gliding down the shaft, called to defend the ship that housed it. He walked around the weapon as the arm lowered. Below him, the cover opened, and the shaft depressurized. A small voice told him that he should be gasping for oxygen and the hurricane force wind caused by depressurization should be throwing him into space to freeze and suffocate to death. Ignoring that voice was easy.
As the end of the cannon glided past him, sparks leaped from it. He climbed over the railing and jumped onto the cannon. Scorched metal showed where sparks from a damaged power cable had been burning it for months. His attention went to a warped cover. Tru pulled it off, finding the source of the persistent warning. Under him, he felt the cannon began to vibrate as it charged up to fire.
Tru looked up. The cannon was locked into place outside the ship, exposing him to outer space. Nearby a sun glowed brightly, and he saw a large gas planet in the distance. A ship bore down on Prosperous, firing at her. The ship passed as the cannon turned to take aim. Tru whipped his head around to keep his eyes on it. The ship’s hull wavered, and the outer hull shed like a snake’s skin to reveal an entirely different hull. It was a Terallian Raptor.
But Terallians were Merchant Raitor allies. Why would they be attacking another Merchant Raitor ship? Was this a premonition of the past?
Tru suddenly found himself back inside Prosperous, standing on the catwalk. The canon fired a hot plasma beam, but the blast went the wrong direction. It fired back up the cannon, up the cabling, and blew a hole five decks up. Seven crewmen fell into the hole, two of them burned beyond recognition. With complaining, groaning metal, the cannon broke free from its housing and joints, and dropped into space. Tru looked up at the large hole in his ship. Something dark and organic hung from between the damaged decks and the inner and outer hull. A dark Carmine-colored liquid spurted into space, freezing as it came in contact with the sub-zero temperature of space.
Tru’s vision began to violently shake, and he felt like he was being torn in half.
He heard someone quietly tell him, “Come back now, son.”
Tru gasped, unexpectantly finding himself in the present. Hands held his arms and pushed back on his chest. Tru looked down, finding he was standing on the top rung of the railing that ran along the inside of the catwalk. The cannon hatch was a deck below, and while a fall from the second deck probably wouldn’t kill him, he would have broken something. Tru jumped back onto the catwalk and back peddled to the wall. He pressed against it to remind himself that he was safely back in the present. Tru leaned on his legs, panting to catch his breath.
“What just happened to you?” Ag demanded.
Tru was still too breathless to answer.
“Should we get a medical team?” Dalekchi asked.
Tru held up his hand, shaking it. He needs them to wait until he could speak. It took a couple more minutes for that to happen.
“The buffer chips are fried from a short in the power cable. If we have to fire the cannon, it will blow a hole five decks up. Take it offline until you have it fixed and make this a priority.”
“How do you know that?” Ag asked.
“Why you were about to jump over the railing, sir?” Dalekchi asked.
Tru closed his eyes, swallowing hard. “It’s a long story. Do as your ordered. If you delay this time, you’ll endanger everyone’s life, Ag.”
“Aye, sir. Lieutenant, go back and get Ensign Flavaa and tools. I’ll meet you at the top catwalk.”
Dalekchi left, and Ag headed for the maintenance lift on the other side of the shaft. Tru leaned on the railing, staring at the hatch below him.
“Gracie,” he muttered.
Yes? she asked.
“Transport me to my quarters?”
Tru was transported out of the room.
Chapter 11
JACKIE LOOKED UP, SEEING TRU WALK PAST THE END OF THE HALL. SHE RAN to catch up to him. She was not happy with the shift assignment the Lead Communications officer put her on, a shift that her supervisor swore Tru told her to use. At the corner, she saw him go into a storage room down the hall.
She stopped outside the door and waited for him to come out. After several minutes she began to wonder what he was doing. Five minutes later she swiped her hand over the biometric pad, but the door didn’t open. Jackie pressed her hand against the biometric pad. A small spark burst from behind the biometric pad, and the door disappeared. She walked into a small jungle of stacked crates and boxes waiting to be sorted and shelved.
Ensign Rhoades, you are not permitted in this area. You must leave, Gracie informed her.
Jackie slowly made her way around the small room, but there was no sign of Tru. At the back of the room, she noticed a spot on the wall that had been polished to almost a mirror finish/ Instinctively she pushed her hand against the spot but nothing happened. With more concentration, there was a soft buzz behind the wall, and a secret door slid open.
Ensign Rhoades, you are not permitted in this area, Gracie repeated.
Jackie stepped into a dark hall. Lights shined through a metal gobo, creating a scene of a castle, dragon, and a knight on a horse against a black painted wall.
“What is this place?” Jackie asked.
You have ten seconds to vacate the area.
“Or what?”
Or I will transport you to the Brig.
Her entire demeanor changed. Her walk became more masculine, her smile more wicked and devious.
“Found a guarded secret, huh?” Jackie jabbed.
You have not been granted access to this area. You will leave immediately, Ensign Rhoades.
“Why? What’s Truman hiding?”
You are not to address your captain by his first name, Ensign Rhoades.
“Whatever.”
Jackie walked down the hall, coming to a T. In both directions, lights shown through metal gobo templates, casting fairy tales and children story characters on the black painted walls and the brushed-metal floor. The floor in both directions sloped sharply down, but she could see it the wall where the halls stopped, and there didn’t appear to be any other way out except back the way she came.
She crouched and pressed her palm to the
floor and closed her eyes. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked down the hall to her right. She walked down the hall until she reached the dead end – or so it seemed. She placed her hand on the floor again and then looked up at the wall. She began to slowly run her hand over a spot, searching out a biometric pad hidden in the dark.
You have three seconds to comply, Ensign Rhoades or I will transport you to the Brig, Gracie said.
“If you were serious, you would have done that already.”
Jackie’s eyes narrowed slightly, and a spark leaped from the wall. A door slid open in front of her, and she stepped into the hall beyond. The ceiling was lower than the rest of the ship, definitely under regulations, and the walls looked like they were made of weathered bricks. Jackie touched the wall, finding the brick was an illusion of paint. The hall went several meters with openings at uneven intervals. At the end of the corridor, there was a sharp right turn.
Security droids are being dispatched, Ensign Rhoades.
Jackie walked down the hall. “Tru?” she called.
There was no answer. She heard the door open behind her and turned. Two security droids entered, marching toward her.
“Remain where you are,” one stated. “You are to be escorted to the Brig.”
Jackie flashed a grin and ran. The whir of the droid’s motor quickly faded away as she turned down one tunnel after another, not realizing she was becoming very lost in the ship’s Catacombs. She ran past doorways that opened, but she didn’t stop to investigate. She turned around a corner, running into a small, open room, and stopped. At the opposite end of the room was a wooden wardrobe with a fantastical scene carved into each door, two simple brass handles, and an ordinary hook and eye latch. She walked up to it, looking it over.
“Gracie, stand down security,” she heard Tru say, and she turned.
He stood behind her with his arms crossed over his chest. She couldn’t tell if he was actually angry, or if the lighting made him look angry.
Compliant, Gracie replied.
“You were told this place was off limits, Jackie.”
Jackie walked up to Tru, smiling. “What is this place, Truman?”
“You will call me Captain or Captain Barnett, Jackie.”
Jackie waved him off, turning back to the wardrobe. She opened the doors and found coats hanging inside. She looked back at him.
“Coats? What the fuck?”
Tru’s eyebrows lifted. “I wasn’t aware the situation called for cursing.”
Jackie leaned against the closet, smiling seductively at him. “Does it turn you on, Captain?”
“No.” Tru walked up to her, reaching out to shut the closet door. “And you need to leave.”
Jackie quickly moved between him and the door. “I’d love to, but I’m a little lost.” She reached out to grab his shirt, and he moved back. “There’s no one here, Captain. We could sure make a lot of noise. And I’m into pretty much anything.”
“You know that a captain can’t have a relationship with a subordinate. You have reported other crewmen for violating that regulation.”
Jackie walked up to him, laying her hand on his chest. “Then it’ll be our secret. We can meet here. I’m sure no one else knows about this place.”
“Jackie—”
Jackie began unbuttoning her shirt. Tru grabbed her hands, stopping her.
“What is wrong with you Jackie? In the last five days, I have seen you behave yourself, be very respectful, shy even. And then, the very same day, you’re cussing, disobeying, and ready to get into a fight with anyone that even looks at you sideways. And now you’re trying to come on to me? What is going on with you?”
She leaned in, grabbing the next shirt button and fumbling to unbutton it. “You have no idea what I’m really like, Captain Barnett. Let me show you…”
He stopped her again. “This isn’t happening, Jackie. Stop.”
“We can be any type of woman you want. Just tell us what you want.”
Tru caught the strange self-reference. “Who are you referring to when you say us and we?”
There was a tense silence. Jackie yanked her arms free and began buttoning up her shirt.
“You probably go for women with money,” she snarled at him. “I knew you were too perfect.”
“I don’t go for women with money. Why did you say us?”
“How do I get out of here?”
Jackie walked past him. He grabbed her arm as she passed. She spun around, swinging her hand to slap him. He caught her other wrist. The two stared at each other in silence for several minutes.
“You’re into women like Aris, aren’t you?” she spat. “Someone that fucks everything?”
“No.”
“Then what?” Jackie yanked free from him. “We’ve never liked the same guy before, and I don’t understand why you don’t want us?”
“Why do you keep referring to yourself as we and us, Jackie?”
“WHY NOT US? What is it about us that you don’t like? What do we need to change for you to want us?”
“You aren’t a man.”
All the anger that had flushed Jackie’s cheeks faded into surprise. “You’re gay?”
“Yes. Why are you referring to yourself as us and we?”
Jackie looked down, a tear sliding down her cheek. “You’re gay?”
“I’m sorry, Jackie,” Tru murmured.
She leaned against the wall as she shook her head. “You were so sweet. It makes sense now.”
“Why did you refer to yourself as us?”
Jackie looked at him, anger again in her eyes. “I’m not going to get stuck with some shrink because you think I’m crazy.”
“Too late. You’re talking to a shrink.”
Jackie stared at him. She suddenly stormed past him to the wardrobe and turned back to him.
“What the hell is this?” She motioned at the closet. “What the hell is this place?” She waved her hand to include the room, the hall, and the wardrobe. “I have served on a hundred ships, I even served on the Crystal Serenity for six months, but I have never seen anything like this place. Is this your sex room? Or are is it your serial killer torture room? ”
“I not going to answer any of your questions until you answer mine. ”
Jackie stared at him for a long minute. “Why should I trust you?”
“Jackie, this area is off limits to all crewmen, and even though Gracie told you that, you ignored her. That means there is only one way you’re getting out of here that doesn’t involve you spending weeks in Brig stasis. You have to answer my questions.”
She didn’t say anything for a long time. She wanted to tell him, but she knew he wouldn’t listen. No one ever had. But the idea of spending time the Brig stasis wasn’t appealing either.
“Fine. What questions?” she asked.
“Why do you keep referring to yourself as us and we? Why do you have such drastic personality changes?”
Jackie looked at the floor as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You won’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
She looked up at him. “Two Sileriums are living inside my body. I’m Joan. Jackie is your COM officer, the one you called shy, obedient, and a complete tool.”
“I didn’t call her a tool. So you have dissociative identity disorder?”
“Sure. Now, I get an answer to one of my questions. What the hell is this place?”
“When my dad installed the cannons and torpedo tubes, he had to redesign the decks below them and lost half a deck. Since the deck didn’t meet standards, he converted it into a playground for my siblings and me. It’s called The Catacombs.”
Jackie sat down on the edge of the wardrobe. Tru sat down next to her, watching her face. A distant look came over her face, and Tru suspected she was going someplace she hadn’t visited for a long time
“Our dad beat us until he’d inhaled too much Silerium and his lungs collapsed. We were eight then and ended up in an orphanage,” Jackie told
him. “That’s all the bastard ever gave us.”
“What about your mom?”
Jackie shrugged. “He said she was a whore. I don’t know anything about her.”
Tru leaned on his legs, staring at the floor.
“Have you ever seen anyone about your split personality, Jackie?”
Jackie nodded. “All the time before I joined Merchant Raitor.”
“And then?”
“Joan deleted all those files so we could get in.”
“Joan is the one that likes to be insubordinate, isn’t she? She’s the one behind your long list of infractions?”
Jackie nodded. “She’s a good sister, though. She always thinks of us first.”
“You are aware of the other personality when it’s in control?”
She nodded.
“Have you been told that’s unusual?”
“Yeah. None of the shrinks believes that. Almost all of them said it wasn’t possible or unheard of. They’re morons. Are you a moron?”
He laughed. “I try not to be. Every Silerium patient I had with DID passed my ‘can you see what I see’ test, showing they were aware of what the other personalities did. I would have been surprised if you’d said you weren’t aware of what she did.”
“Some had more than one?”
Tru thought about that question, then shook his head. “No. As a matter of fact, I can’t recall even one Silerium with more than two personalities. Do you know many Sileriums with the disorder?”
“There were several in the orphanage. They usually ended up arrested or sold as slaves.”
“Because the other personality was out of control?
She shrugged one shoulder.
“Like Joan? She is a little out of control, Jackie. I didn’t appreciate her hitting on me.”
Jackie buried her face in her hands.
“Or was it Joan?”
“Yes. No. Both of us.”
Tru sighed. “I’m sorry, Jackie. It’s nothing personal. I think you are beautiful and smart, but I’m not altogether crazy about Joan.”
Jackie dropped her hands and looked at him. “You just don’t know her. She’s not all bad. She’s tough, and she gets us out of jams. I can get us through a cocktail party and know what colors look good on us. She knows how to get us by when things get tough and how to get money when we’re broke. She’s strong where I’m weak.”
