“That’s a surprise.” Captain Serrado stood in the open doorway. “Are you sure, Doctor?”
“Obviously not. I have a sample size of one. But from what I’m seeing here? It’s not Rahel’s personal chemistry. It’s her Alsean brain.”
Captain Serrado walked inside, allowing the door to shut behind her. “I suggest we keep that quiet for now. No need to spread that around when you don’t have the data to support it.”
“Well, of course—” Dr. Wells stopped. “Why do I have the feeling you’re not concerned about evidentiary backup?”
“I have you for that. What I’m concerned about is certain people in Protectorate Security getting ideas they shouldn’t have yet. If ever.”
The understanding that passed between the two officers was so profound that Rahel felt it go right through her chest. There was deep history there.
“I’m happy to serve in any capacity I can,” she offered. “That’s why I’m here.”
“And we value that.” Though her voice was calm, Serrado’s dark blue eyes reflected the strength of her emotions. “We just need to be sure that capacity stays reasonable.”
She was slightly shorter than Dr. Wells and had the same slender build, but where Dr. Wells moved with a careless grace, Captain Serrado had a warrior’s tense readiness. She kept her shoulder-length black hair clipped back, and her uniform always looked as if it had come straight from the laundry services, flawlessly pressed and without so much as a speck of lint to mar its perfection.
“Protectorate Security is always looking for an advantage,” Serrado continued. “Any advantage. If Alseans are immune to exit transitions, then imagine what a warship could do with strategically placed Alseans at the helm and a few weapons controls.”
“While the Gaians on the other ship are coping with transition nausea and slower response time from the foramine,” Dr. Wells said. “Sometimes your mind scares me, Captain. That wouldn’t have been my first thought. Or my second or third.”
“I don’t understand. Why is that a concern?” Rahel asked. “There’s only one of me.”
“There won’t always be. In the meantime, I’d prefer that Dr. Wells determine the rate and type of experimentation you’re subjected to.”
“You can’t possibly—he doesn’t have that power here.” Dr. Wells moved to Rahel’s side, hands on her hips. “I’m the final say on anything to do with her health.”
“You are as long as I’m captain and you’re my chief surgeon. Let’s not give him a reason for any personnel changes.”
“I don’t think I like this him you’re talking about,” Rahel said. “Should I know who this is?”
“No,” they said simultaneously, then looked at each other. Dr. Wells nodded slightly, giving precedence.
“Not unless or until it becomes necessary,” Captain Serrado said. “Dr. Wells, if you’re done with your test, I believe we have a patient transfer.”
“I’m done, and we do.” She slipped the circlet off Rahel’s head and replaced it in a slim silver box. “See you in the shuttle bay at fifteen forty-five?”
“We’ll be there. Rahel, ready for your shuttle bay tour?”
Rahel was too surprised to hide it. “You’re my guide?”
“Lhyn thinks shuttle operations are boring, so she’s taking the afternoon off. And every now and then, they have to let me off the bridge so I don’t go space happy.”
A small snort came from the direction of Dr. Wells, who was lowering the medical display back into its portable case.
“Something you want to add, Doctor?”
“No, not at all. Just clearing my throat.”
Serrado looked back at Rahel, who raised her hands.
“I think this comes under the category of things I can sense that I shouldn’t say aloud.”
“She’s learning!” Dr. Wells closed the case and settled its strap over her shoulder. “Lead or get out of the way, please. I have patients to attend to.”
8
A bay with a view
Rahel had passed through the shuttle bay upon first boarding the Phoenix, but remembered few details from that overwhelming day. Now she walked beside Captain Serrado and marveled at both its vastness and the number of crew members bustling through it.
The bay was six decks high and housed eight shuttles ranging in size from large to gigantic. Six of them glowed with the silvery semi-organic hullskin that characterized all Gaian ships, but two others shone black beneath the lights. They were designed to handle the nanoscrubbers in Alsea’s atmosphere, which attacked any ship with hullskin due to the foreign radiation it produced. No other ship in the Protectorate Fleet had Alsea-capable shuttles.
Each shuttle had its own support crew, Serrado explained. Space travel was rough on hardware, and failures could be catastrophic. No shuttle would fly until the crew chief signed off on its readiness.
“Then the crew chiefs are the ones in charge?” Rahel asked.
Serrado’s lips twitched. “Don’t tell the pilots.”
She conducted her tour with the enthusiasm of a child in a sweet shop, a startling contrast to what Rahel had previously seen of her. Lhyn’s earlier words about public and private personas suddenly gained new meaning, and she wondered how many people on the ship had seen their captain like this.
“If we’re ever separated from the Phoenix, this is the one to be on,” Serrado said, spreading her arms as they stood inside the largest shuttle. “It’s considered the captain’s because of the size and luxury, but I’ll tell you a secret.” She lowered her arms and spoke in a confidential tone. “I hate it. I want a shuttle I can enjoy flying. This is like flying a train.”
Rahel chuckled before she could stop herself, then looked up to see the captain smiling at her.
“It really is. We have a phrase in Common that you might not have heard yet. ‘Turns on a tack.’ Know it?”
“Um. No. But I can imagine what it means. Something that can turn on one wing?” Rahel put one arm down and the other up, then rotated around her downward-pointing hand.
“Yes, exactly!” Captain Serrado laughed, a full, joyous sound that lifted Rahel’s heart. “Turns on one wing, I like that. Might be better than ours. More visual.” She repeated the phrase in High Alsean and added, “I’ll have to ask Lhyn if she knows that one. She’ll love the alliteration. Anyway, this beast does the opposite of turning on one wing. It needs half a planetary orbit to come around.”
She walked Rahel through the shuttle, pointing out some of the differences between it and the one they had flown in from Alsea, then led her across the busy bay to the far end. The exit tunnel loomed far over their heads, three decks high and wide enough to easily accommodate the largest shuttle.
“I remember flashing lights when we arrived,” Rahel said.
“Guidance lights.” Serrado tapped the lock pad beside a small door, which slid open to reveal a stairwell. “You’ll see them when the shuttle leaves with our last patients.” She jogged up five flights of stairs and opened another door into a small room crowded with lit panels, a dizzying array of switches, and two crew members in operations uniforms. They were seated by a large window overlooking the exit tunnel, but at the sight of Serrado they leaped up with matching shivers of nervousness.
“Captain!” The short male reached out to stop his chair’s spin. “We didn’t know there was an inspection.”
“There isn’t. Just a tour. Unless you feel an inspection is needed?”
Beside him, the taller woman shook her head vigorously. “No, Captain. Not necessary at all. Everything is in perfect working order and we’re ready for launch and retrieval.”
Rahel frowned. “Captain—”
Captain Serrado raised a hand without looking at her. “Good, because I’d rather leave the inspections to Commander Zeppy.”
They relaxed immediately, smiling at her use of the commander’s nickname.
“I’m taking First Guard Sayana to the end,” Serrado continued as she turned
away. “Don’t be alarmed when the bay door opens.”
With a nod to the too-relieved crew members, Rahel followed her through another door into a narrow passageway lined with windows.
“This runs all the way to the bay door.” Captain Serrado stopped by one of the windows. “Were they lying? About being ready for operations?”
“No. But they were very nervous. They really didn’t want you to look around.”
Serrado took the clip out of her hair and pocketed it, then ran both hands through the freed strands as she gazed onto the empty exit tunnel. “All right,” she said quietly, leaning a hip against the windowsill and crossing her arms over her chest. “Rahel, you can’t contradict crew members in front of them. Not unless they’re actively lying about something you believe to be a danger to the ship or its crew.”
“You don’t want to know?”
“You think I didn’t know they were trying to avoid me nosing around? It could be anything. They could be hiding a bottle of alcohol, or had inappropriate reading material on their screens. Maybe we caught them in the middle of a kasmet game. Any of those would be actionable, but they’re not things I want to deal with. I leave that to my officers. As long as they’re ready for operations, I’m not going to breathe down their necks about playing a game in the quiet half-hour before they need to start flipping switches.”
“Because you’re the captain. You’re prioritizing.”
With a wry smile, Serrado said, “I used to be the kind of captain who did breathe down everyone’s necks about the little things. I bled Fleet colors and expected everyone else to do the same. Then I did a tour of duty at Protectorate Security in Gov Dome. That opened my eyes to the kind of commanding officer I didn’t want to be.”
“Protectorate Security,” Rahel remembered. “Is that where you met him? The one you’re worried about?”
“Be careful that you’re not too smart for your own good.”
“I’m sorry, I’m trying to learn when—”
“I know,” Serrado interrupted. “I’m not angry. But then, you know that.”
A spike of discomfort pricked against Rahel’s senses. For the first time, she realized that Captain Serrado was one of those who didn’t feel at ease with an empath.
“I wasn’t actively reading you,” she said, swallowing the sudden sting of loneliness. “But I’ll block you now.”
“Wait.” Captain Serrado stared out at the tunnel, her discomfort growing. “Dr. Wells tells me you need to reduce the amount of time you’re holding up your blocks.”
“She thinks the effort affects my production of some brain chemical with a name I can’t remember. But you’re the captain, I’m sure she didn’t mean—” She stopped at the odd sound that erupted from Serrado’s throat.
“I’m sure she did. I’m supposed to be setting an example for the crew. If I can’t learn to be around an empath . . .” She turned her head and met Rahel’s gaze. “Tell me what you’re sensing now.”
“Um. You’re not comfortable. Neither am I,” Rahel added, and was encouraged by the streak of amused understanding that lightened the captain’s emotions. “You’re worried, but that’s not at the surface. It’s deeper, like it’s something you live with.”
“I think you’d find that in any captain worth her bars. What else?”
Rahel shrugged. “There isn’t much else. You wanted to stop me in the control room, but that ended as soon as we left. You’re concerned, I think for me. Before that, you were enjoying this tour. It felt good. I’m sorry it’s gone.”
“You enjoy sensing positive emotions?”
“Of course! Don’t you? I mean . . . if you make someone laugh, don’t you enjoy that? Or when you know Lhyn is happy?”
Slowly, Captain Serrado nodded. “I hadn’t connected that sort of sensing with what you do.”
“Being sonsales doesn’t mean you’re blind. It means you don’t have this particular sense.” Rahel tapped her head. “But you still see.”
“And yet the definition of sonsales is someone blind to emotions.”
“Yes, but we made that definition before we knew there was other intelligent life in the universe. A sonsales is an Alsean who is blinded in this sense.” She tapped her head again. “You never had it to begin with. How can you be blind in a sense you never had?”
Captain Serrado smiled. “Are you sensing my enjoyment right now? That was an excellent argument.”
“It’s hard to miss.”
“Good. Then I’m ready to get back to enjoying our tour. But one bit of business first.” She pointed over her shoulder to the door behind her. “If you’d told me what you sensed in there, those two would have told everyone they know that the Alsean empath is spying for the captain. Neither of us would come out of that in a good position. Do you understand?”
“I think so.”
“That doesn’t mean I never want to know. You’re a resource; I’d be remiss to shut you down. Use your judgment. If you think I need to know something, tell me in private. If you sense an imminent danger, don’t wait for privacy.”
“Understood.”
Captain Serrado examined her, then gave a single nod and pushed off the sill. “Come on, we still have the best part.”
Despite her shorter height, she moved rapidly enough that Rahel had to extend her stride to keep up. They walked the length of the exit tunnel and stopped at the final window overlooking a closed bay door. Beneath it was a panel similar to those in the control room.
“There aren’t many places on the ship where we can see out.” Serrado flipped one switch, then another, and the panel came to colorful life. “I know Lhyn took you to Deck Zero. It’s her favorite place on the Phoenix.”
“It’s spectacular.” The entire top deck was a landscaped park, topped by hullskin that could be rolled back to reveal transparent material. It was the closest thing Rahel could imagine to actually flying among the stars.
“It is. It’s also never empty. But there are little spots like this all over the ship, where we can glimpse the same thing without sharing it with half the crew.” Serrado tapped a code into the panel.
A deep thunk resonated through Rahel’s feet, followed by the sound of air rushing past the window. A vertical seam appeared in the center of the bay door, growing wider as the two halves slid back, their bulk vanishing into pockets on either side of the tunnel.
“Goddess above,” Rahel breathed.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Rahel touched her fingertips to the window. On the other side were a million stars blazing in the darkness, so densely packed that she couldn’t imagine trying to draw constellations among them. Farther away were the elegant columns of a nebula, fingers reaching out to grasp something just beyond sight. Brilliant glows scattered amongst the fingers gave away the nebula’s secret: it was a star nursery, studded with protostars, their birth cries igniting the gas around them in a triumphant announcement that could be seen across the galaxy.
“Beautiful doesn’t begin to describe it.”
“I have the same problem.” Captain Serrado put a palm against the window, a satisfied smile on her face as she gazed out. “Tell me, what do you feel right now?”
“Awed. Exhilarated.” Rahel paused. “Peaceful.”
“What are you sensing from me?”
Rahel met her eyes. “All the same things.”
The smile grew. “You’re right. I do enjoy sensing positive emotions.”
9
Tests
“Captain, there aren’t enough thanks in the galaxy for what you and your crew did for me.” The man’s wrinkled face creased into a toothy grin as he held out a hand. “Never expected a warship to come to my rescue.”
“I’m glad we were here when you needed us.” Captain Serrado accepted his hand, her eyes growing comically wide when he used the grip to pull her in and plant a loud kiss on each cheek.
Rahel pressed her lips together to hold in the laugh. Never in their short acquaint
ance had she felt the captain so startled. But it seemed that just as on Alsea, elders here had a certain leeway when it came to social expectations.
The man’s bondmate stood beside him at the foot of the shuttle ramp, equally wrinkled but with snow-white hair where his was a steely gray. “If I may, Captain?” She put gentle hands on the captain’s shoulders and drew her in for a similar but quieter set of kisses. “It’s our way, to thank someone for a special gift or service. I can think of nothing more special than saving my husband’s life.”
“Yep!” The man patted his stomach. “Came in for a belly bug, almost went out with an aneurysm. We met the boss doc on the Plush Life. He looks very fine in his dress whites, but I’d surely be dead if he’d been the one operating on me.” He turned to Dr. Wells. “Now, your boss doc! She knows her fingers from her toes.”
“I like to think so.” Dr. Wells’s smile was genuine; she liked this blustery man. “Of course, I’m not the one who operated on you. But I do know how to put together a top-notch team.”
“Seems everyone on this ship is top-notch. You even have the first Alsean.”
Rahel found herself the center of attention and the object of expectation on all sides. No one had told her she would have to say anything!
“I’m, um, not on Dr. Wells’s medical team. But I agree with you, she has an excellent staff.”
“First Guard Sayana is being modest,” Dr. Wells said. “She just completed a rotation in medical. In fact, I believe she was present when you were taken to surgery.”
Rahel froze, then looked at the man more closely.
Great Mother, she would never have recognized him. She’d had only the briefest glimpse before being overwhelmed by his terror. She had never asked Dr. Wells about him, certain of his death and not wanting confirmation.
And here he was, grinning at her.
“Oh,” she said. “Yes, I was. It was . . . a true learning experience.”
Resilience Page 8
