Captain Cosette

by R. Bruce Sundrud

  So far, she had not run into replacement seals for the EMCON 4 idler wheels, but she had found other parts for the tank, so she was determined to search to the end of the catwalk. Unfortunately, the boxes at the end of the catwalk were stacked solidly, and she had to climb up on top of the boxes to see the labels of the ones at the far end.

  The boxes at the end looked the right size to hold replacement seals, but they were stacked so the labels weren’t visible.

  Why don’t they put labels on all sides? It would make life so much easier.

  Grumbling, she crawled to the end of the catwalk, held on tight with one hand, and turned a box so she could see the printing on it.

  Hooray, that’s the right parts number! Now if I can only drag it as I scoot backwards…

  “May I help you?”

  She screamed, startled by the voice. She twisted around to see who had spoken, and was startled once more to find she was looking into a large pair of lenses suspended on a metallic neck.

  She slipped and started to fall from the catwalk. She reached out to grab the railing, but at that same instant her mind recognized what she had seen and made another connection.

  Robots.

  Snap.

  An array of robots filled her mind, from miniscule grease cleaners to ponderous miners, from mindless automatons to near-sentient intelligences, the artificial helpers of mankind.

  She missed the railing.

  Before she could scream again, something caught her by the middle and stopped her fall. “Be careful, Cadet! It is dangerous up here.” Metallic arms pulled her back to safety.

  She collapsed on the cat walk and wrapped her arms around the railing, trying to make her heart stop pounding. “Thank you!” she said, finally seeing her rescuer clearly.

  It was a spidery-looking robot with a disk-shaped body, and six evenly-spaced multi-jointed legs. Its two lenses were supported by a flexible neck that came from a central swivel.

  I know how to assemble one of those.

  This utility robot was called a spinner, and was ideal for areas like this, able to move easily along the outside of cat walks and to slip under the sub-flooring.

  “You’re welcome,” said the spinner. “I was afraid that I had caused you to slip, and that I would be responsible for your death. Even now I am oscillating badly.” He held up the tip of one leg, which vibrated.

  “You’ve got an EM chip in you. You’re empathic!” Her new memories told her that spinners had a slot for an EM chip but weren’t normally equipped with one. The EM chip provided an emotional side to a robot’s operating system, not considered useful for units assigned to manual labor.

  The spinner’s lenses lowered and examined Cosette’s name tag. “Cadet Nicholas. You are an engineer?”

  “No.”

  “How do you know about the empathic chip?”

  She swallowed. Her head had stopped spinning, her heart was beating slower, and she was pretty sure she had never had a conversation with a robot before.

  “From a teaching machine.”

  “You’re the first Union soldier I’ve met who knew about the EM chip.” The spinner scanned her from head to foot. “Are you injured? Should I send for medical assistance?”

  She pulled herself to her feet, being careful to stay close to the wall. “No, I’m not hurt. I should have been more careful. I was trying to get to those seals.”

  The spinner slid to the outside of the railing, danced along the side to the end of the catwalk, and returned with the box of seals. “Is this what you needed?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Are you repairing that tank where Cadet Jason was working?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will carry them down for you.”

  “I’d appreciate that, but….”

  “But?”

  “What is your name?”

  “My name? My model number is too long to be convenient. Call me Spinner.”

  “Thank you, Spinner.”

  “You are welcome. I will stay below you while you get safely down.”

  “I’d appreciate that.” She climbed down the ladder, which required her to get to the edge of the catwalk again. She descended carefully, grateful that the last couple of catwalks had their own stairs.

  What was its name again?

  “Robot?” she asked as she walked to the tank.

  The round flat robot skittered alongside her on four legs, its middle pair of arms arching up to hold the box of seals. “Yes?”

  “Why weren’t you helping…the other technician?”

  “Cadet Jason? I do not like Cadet Jason.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “I am serious. He treats me like one of his hammers. He never says thank you. You talk to me like I am sentient, so I will help you.”

  This is so strange.

  “Do you know if we have the tool to pull these seals from the wheel?”

  “Yes. I will get it.” It set the box down beside the leaking wheel, and raced back up the wall.

  She shivered; she didn’t like spiders. She didn’t know why, but she swiped her hair with her hand as though knocking something away. And her hair didn’t feel right; it was too short.

  The robot returned with the tool, and Cosette pulled the leaking seal and replaced it. A few gentle taps with a cushioned hammer seated it properly, and the robot returned the tools and the box to where they belonged.

  She was hungry, but pleased at having done some useful work.

  I’m used to work. It feels normal.

  There was much more that she could do in the bay – the fighter craft needed servicing, other tanks showed signs of wear – but it was probably time to eat. She had no watch; she had never needed one when she….when she…whatever it was she used to do.

  “What was your name again?”

  “Spinner.”

  “Spinner, what time is it?”

  “17:55, Station Time.”

  “Oh, no! Dinner’s almost over!” She ran towards the bay’s double doors. “I won’t be able to eat until breakfast!”

  The doors opened and she almost ran into a man in dress uniform. He looked familiar.

  “Cadet Nicholas!” he said. “The computer said you were in the bay. Working already?”

  “Um. Yes, sir?”

  “Initiative. I like that in a recruit. Making sure the fighter craft are top shape. I’m a pilot when I’m off-station, you know.”

  “Thank you, I will work on them, but right now I’m late for dinner.”

  “Well, you can’t go to the mess hall in that dirty uniform, and certainly not with oil all over your hands and face.”

  “But it’s about to close and…”

  “Now, now.” He raised a finger in warning. “First of all, you need to keep better track of time. Secondly, you are welcome to dine with me as my guest. The officers eat later.”

  “Oh! That’s very kind of you.”

  “Not at all. Afterwards I’ll give you a tour of the station. But you do need to scrub yourself up and put on your dress uniform.”

  “Of course. Thank you….” She peered at his name tag. “Lieutenant Garale.”

  “Still forgetful? Don’t worry about it. I’ll be outside your quarters in thirty minutes.”

  “I’ll be ready!” She ran down the corridor, excited. Lieutenant Somebody looked handsome in his uniform.

  If she had ever been invited to dinner before, she couldn’t remember, but she was sure she would enjoy it. The Lieutenant was looking out for her and she was grateful.

  She showered with hot water, scrubbed until her hands were red, stood under the drier until her hair was mostly dry, and got into her dress uniform. There was a note on her bed from a man named Rasora.

  Sorry I missed you, it said. I’ve been assigned to kitchen duty. I’ll catch you soon.

  She wondered who Rasora was, and why he wanted to catch her. Was he the kid with acne from the maintenance bay? No, he couldn’t be him. He di
dn’t like her.

  She shrugged, slipped into her shoes, and stepped out to find the handsome Lieutenant waiting for her. He led her to the dining hall, where they were seated at a table for four.

  A sliding wall had divided the room, making it more intimate. There was no sign that the wall was moveable, but Cosette had the station designs in her head, so she knew how adjustable the space was.

  The smaller area seated sixteen with four round tables, each covered with a linen tablecloth. Cadets moved swiftly among the seated officers, serving drinks and taking orders. Lieutenant Garale ordered for the both of them.

  He introduced the other two at the table. Second Lieutenant Reiff was an officious man with piercing eyes, and the woman next to him with the short lustrous hair and regal bearing was Lieutenant McColpin.

  “Cadet Nicholas is new,” explained Garale, “and I’m treating her to dinner.”

  “Yes,” said the woman, her voice pitched low. “I’m sure you are.”

  Reiff nodded at Cosette once and ignored her after that. “Does anyone know yet why they haven’t sent troops to take back Sorine?”

  “Not over dinner,” said Garale. “Let’s talk about something pleasant.”

  “For Reiff, war is pleasant,” said the woman. “Cadet Nicholas, you’re from Sorine?”

  “I was born there, I believe.”

  “That’s right, I heard your memory was injured. I’m so sorry. I suppose you wouldn’t be able to tell me where they make this marvelous wine? When I retire I want to invest in it.”

  Cosette lifted her glass and looked at it closely. She had almost finished it without thinking. She sniffed it. “It’s familiar. Very familiar. Almost…”

  “I know they use that ambrosia fruit for it, but where do they grow it?” the woman asked.

  Reiff snorted. “You can’t call it wine unless it’s made from grapes.”

  “Here,” said Garale, refilling Cosette’s glass, “see if it jogs your memory.”

  The woman sniffed. “We can call it anything we want, Reiff. It sells better if we call it wine.”

  Cosette drank another swallow, trying to shake loose her memory, but her past was still unfamiliar territory.

  Dinner arrived, sizzling steaks, strips of white vegetables with a golden sauce, and tender sautéed mushrooms. She watched carefully as the others ate. She tried to imitate them, but holding the knife in their strange fashion was difficult for her and made them look at each other with amusement. She seemed to have no skill at cutting a steak, and she had to suffer the humiliation of the handsome lieutenant cutting her meat into small pieces. She tried to hide her embarrassment by draining her glass.

  Piped music played in the hall, and the atmosphere was relaxed. People at the other tables laughed, sometimes as they looked at her, and she nodded back at them. The meat was exquisite; the mushrooms were acceptable, and the fruit course afterwards was strange but sweet.

  She didn’t mind that she didn’t understand the jokes that they told, and she didn’t mind that the woman looked narrowly at the lieutenant who had cut her meat, and after finishing another glass she didn’t mind that he put his hand on her wrist possessively.

  It was the grandest dinner that she could remember.

  It was the only dinner that she could remember.

  Chapter Seven

  Dinner concluded for the officers aboard the space station, and everyone left for their various duties. Cosette found that she was unsteady walking, and the Lieutenant had to guide her through the corridors. Her thoughts wandered also.

  Why did that woman look like she was mad at the Lieutenant? I was embarrassed he had to cut my meat for me. I need to learn to cut meat politely for the next time I eat with the officers. They seemed nice; some of them were looking at me and laughing.

  I feel like I was born yesterday. Born in the infirmary full grown with all this knowledge in me. Except manners. And I can’t remember growing up, can’t remember coming up here to this station.

  She stumbled, and the Lieutenant put his arm around her shoulder to steady her. He left it on her shoulder, and she felt safer.

  “You should have turned right,” she said after they passed a corridor. “This only goes to the officer’s quarters.”

  “You’re a bit woozy,” he said. “I’ll show you my quarters first.”

  That didn’t quite make sense.

  “You said you would give me a tour of the station.”

  “I think you need a bit of rest first. That was a large dinner.”

  “Yes, but…”

  Someone called to her from behind. “Cosette?”

  She turned to see a tall man that looked familiar. He had deep dark eyes, a wide jaw, and his ears were pierced, though they held no earrings. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

  “You’re interrupting our conversation, cadet,” said the Lieutenant.

  “I was worried about Cosette; she hasn’t been well.”

  “You’re still interrupting our conversation. Cadet Nicholas will be free later.”

  “I apologize, but I’m supposed to look after her.”

  “She doesn’t need looking after; she’s with me. Now leave.”

  “I’m staying with her. I promised her father I would keep her safe.”

  Cosette moved to the side, looking from one man to the other. The Lieutenant got a dangerous look on his face. “Return to your assignment, cadet. That’s an order.”

  They’re getting angry.

  She read the cadet’s name tag, and said, “It’s okay, Cadet Rasora. He’s just taking me to his quarters.”

  Oops. That didn’t help.

  Rasora’s pupils widened and he moved his hand along his waist as though reaching for something.

  The Lieutenant’s face reddened. “Are you disobeying orders, cadet?”

  Before Rasora could respond, the ceiling speaker clicked on. A woman’s voice said, “This is an announcement. Attention, everyone.”

  “An announcement,” said Cosette, holding up her finger and trying to make it sound important. “Everyone should listen.”

  And not fight.

  Neither one moved, keeping their eyes locked on each other, as the voice continued. “Central Command has contacted us with a top priority message. The Alliance is encroaching on Aquataine, and we have been ordered to mobilize our resources to secure that planet. All fighting units and support personnel will immediately prepare for travel. All officers will report immediately to the bridge; all other personnel will go to their quarters and pack their gear.”

  The Lieutenant straightened his uniform. “Well. It seems our tour of the station has been postponed.” He pulled a slip of paper from his breast pocket, wrote on it, and handed it to Cosette. “Here. When you get free, give me a call. I’ll finish our tour.” He glared at Rasora. “You may feel free to guide this cadet safely home.” He shouldered past Rasora, pushing him into the wall. Rasora clenched his fist but kept his mouth shut.

  When the Lieutenant was gone, Rasora turned to Cosette. “You’ve been drinking.”

  “I was just trying to remember where they made that wine they served.”

  “Exactly how many glasses did you have?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Three?”

  “That stuff is stronger than wine; it's fermented ambrosia. I tried some in the kitchen. If you had three glasses of it, you'll probably pass out before we get you to your quarters.”

  “We were having a lovely evening. Why did you have spoil it?”

  He grabbed her arm. “This way, cadet. If you pass out, I’m going to drag you by your hair.”

  She took him seriously. Putting her hand on her head, she snapped, “Don’t you dare! I can get to my quarters by myself!”

  “Can you?”

  “You bet you I can. I just go down there and turn left…wait…where am I?”

  “At the officer’s quarters.”

  I shouldn’t have eaten all that meat. Or drunk all that wine.r />
  “I go left and then…”

  “Yes?”

  “No, I need to go that way.” She pointed. “Fast. There’s a bathroom that way and I’m going to be sick.”

  *

  She stuffed her ill-fitting work uniforms into a patched duffel bag while Rasora sat on her cot. She felt horrible. She had emptied her stomach, which hurt, and she was clumsy and not thinking clearly. All she wanted to do was to lie down and sleep and instead she had to pack her gear. “I still don’t know why you’re so upset.”

  “I can’t believe it. That officer gets you drunk and takes you to his quarters, and you still think he was just being kind to you?”

  “It sounds terrible when you put it that way, but it wasn’t like that.”

  “Wasn’t it?”

  Wasn’t it? Was that why they were laughing at me? Everyone else was just sipping their drinks. What had the lieutenant said – you look drowsy, come to my quarters?

  “Okay,” she admitted, “maybe I was a bit stupid.”

  “No, you were a lot stupid. Big-time stupid. You’ve got all sorts of knowledge crammed into that pretty little head and no experience with life. You’re a babe in the woods surrounded by ravening carnivores.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  He sat upright and tapped her breastbone. “Good. That’s the right way to think. If you can remember that one thing, don’t trust anyone unless they give you a reason to trust them. Taking you to dinner is absolutely not a reason to trust someone.”

  “Shouldn’t you be packing your stuff?”

  “I don’t own anything. I have nothing to pack. Well, that’s not true, technically.” He waved his arms. “They made me responsible for some work clothes and shave gear and the like. I suppose I should bring them along, but they belong to the Union.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t own anything?”

  “It’s a long story and if I told you now, I’d just have to tell you again tomorrow. Look, knowing the military, once you’re packed you can lie down and rest until they begin boarding the transport. Nothing happens as fast as they plan.”

  She nodded. “I’ll try to be smarter.” She grabbed the last of her underclothes to stuff into the bag, and felt something heavy. She unrolled her underclothes to find some large gold rings. “What in the world are these doing here?”