A sound emerged from the gel wall. At first, I wasn’t quite sure what it was.
But then the horrifying truth sunk in.
The AI, the ship’s mechanical computer, was laughing.
Yeah, that wasn’t creepy at all.
Eight
Thank You, Mara
Jameson
The door opened to the wrinkled and grandmotherly face of a darker skinned woman. She looked like she might be Māori; brown hair and eyes and chocolate skin. She was dressed primly, exactly how I imagined a nanny to look. Cardigan and over knee skirt, blouse tucked in. Hair in a bun. She smiled up at me as if I was an old friend.
“Captain Jameson,” she said. “What a surprise.”
A little taken aback that she knew who I was already, I stood there like an idiot.
Finally gaining some semblance of intelligence, I cleared my throat and said, “Ms Kereama. I am here to welcome your niece to the Anderson Universal team.”
I knew for a fact that the niece, Ana Kereama, was currently on duty at the medbay. But time was not on my side, and it was really this woman I wanted to see. Ana Kereama was only on board the vessel due to her relationship with this woman. And this woman was here due to her relationship with Archibald.
I needed to see Archibald. Stat.
“Ana?” she confirmed. I nodded. “My niece is not home right now.”
Home. As if the three-metre by four-metre cabin was a home. I glanced over her shoulder and took in the space this woman deemed to call home. It was a standard bottom tier berth. Slightly larger than an officer’s cabin, on par with my own, but made up with two beds, not one. In one corner was a kitchenette with a small half-round table jutting out of the gel wall and two narrow stools placed beneath it. In the other corner was the door to the ensuite. Across the far wall was a gel image of New Zealand. Rotorua if I was correct. The beds were adorned with non-regulation bedspreads in a tribal pattern. Both had colourful cushions and throws lying across them. A datapad lay next to a handmade woven basket on the small bedside table between them. The kete - I think the Māori called the basket that - looked out of place and yet not.
They had made the cabin a home.
My eyes came back to the old woman’s. She had waited quietly while I made my assessment, but I could not tell what she thought of my lack of manners. This really had not got off to a good start.
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling like a schoolboy again, and smiled at Ms Kereama. It was my warmest smile. My I’m-your-friend smile. The one that said you-can-trust-me.
She smiled back, laughter in her eyes. This woman was no pushover. No wonder she’d got on well with Damon Archibald.
“I’ll cut to the chase, Ms Kereama,” I said, changing tactics abruptly. I couldn’t fool her, so I wasn’t about to waste my time trying. “The Fleet requires your assistance.”
She looked at me for a suspended moment and then waved me into her small cabin.
“I think this needs a cup of tea,” she said, as I followed her inside.
The door slid shut, and I was left with either standing and taking up too much of the small space, or trying to perch on one of the minuscule stools beneath the quasi-table. I opted for remaining by the door and trying to blend in the with the gel coating.
Ms Kereama went to the kitchenette and asked Pavo for two cups of tea. And I mean that in the most deliberate sense. She actually said, “Pavo, can we please have two cups of tea. You know how we like them.” Just like that. Well aware of who, or what ran this ship’s systems.
I had yet to come across a crew member who was able to assimilate as smoothly. Yet again, the Kereama woman had surprised me.
“Two cups of tea,” Pavo announced. “Just how you like them, Mara.”
And OK, I might have had to reach out and hold myself up on the wall with one hand when I heard the familiarity in Pavo’s voice. Ms Kereama turned and surveyed me, then pulled out a stool.
“Sit down, please, Captain,” she said.
I took the proffered seat and felt my world trying to right itself. I talked to Pavo frequently. I’d been talking to Pavo for months before we even launched. It had taken me at least two months to call him by his name and not the ubiquitous title of “Computer.” Even now, I felt uncomfortable thinking of Pavo as anything other than an artificial intelligence, a sequence of elaborate code.
But I was getting better. Or Pavo was getting under my skin. But Marama Kereama had been on this ship less than a month.
I could ask her how she did it. I could also make a fool of myself over something that right now was not a priority. I pushed the puzzle aside and took a sip of my tea. Just how I liked it.
“How may I be of assistance to the Fleet, Captain,” Ms Kereama asked. Cutting to the chase. I liked her already.
I carefully placed my cup on the table between us.
“It is paramount I get in to see Damon Archibald before the end of daylight hours.”
There. I couldn’t be more pointed than that.
She studied me. And then took a long pull on her tea.
“I gather the mayor will not suffice,” she said, astutely.
“You gather correctly. As I’m sure you’re aware, Mr Archibald values his privacy. However, what I wish to discuss with him is of the utmost urgency.” I leaned forward. “Lives are at stake, Ms Kereama. I do not have the luxury of playing games. I must speak with Archibald immediately.”
“We’ve gone from day’s end to immediately, Captain,” the woman remarked shrewdly. “You are either escalating the situation falsely, or you are indeed quite worried.”
I blinked.
“I don’t know you well enough to determine which it is,” she added. “But I fear your assessment of my abilities is unsound. I may have a certain place in Damon’s heart, but I am far from his inner circle.”
“He would see you if you requested it, though, wouldn’t he?”
“Perhaps. Under certain circumstances.”
“And what circumstances would those be?”
She studied the tea leaves at the bottom of her cup. I had the distinct impression this woman did not go for psychic style readings. The hesitation was deliberate. The tea leaves a mere distraction.
“I wish Ana were here,” she finally said.
“Ana is due to finish her shift in three minutes,” Pavo helpfully supplied. It didn’t fail to register with me that the AI was calling the niece by her Christian name also.
“That’s handy,” Marama said. “Perhaps another cup of tea.”
I did not want another cup of tea. And I didn’t know Ana Kereama from a bar of soap. I needed to see Archibald, and I had the disconcerting feeling that the niece would protect her aunt from the likes of me.
“Ms Kereama,” I said before she could stand to retrieve the new cups of tea. “What I am about to tell you must not go any further. It is highly sensitive information that not even my flight crew is aware of yet. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
She sat her full weight back down on the stool.
“Yes, I think I do, Captain.”
I held her stare and swallowed thickly.
“This morning we received a communique from the Sector One Fleet.” I paused, not for effect, but because saying this aloud made it a reality. “They lost a ship.”
Her hand came up to her mouth, hiding it, hiding herself from the shock and horror.
“It wasn’t just any ship, Ms Kereama,” I whispered. “It was the lead vessel.”
“The AI-controlled vessel,” she said, understanding.
“Yes. I need to see Archibald, and I need to see him without the gatekeeping the mayor would subject me to. There are seven more ships in that fleet, Ms Kereama. Ten thousand people needing Pavo.”
“I see,” she said, and I thought perhaps this woman did. I’d risked a lot in telling her, confiding in her. She sure as hell wasn’t my nanny. But she was quick, astute, and if my guess was right, loyal. Loyal to Archibald and
loyal to what was left of humanity.
“Pavo,” she said. “Please call Damon Archibald.”
“Thank you, Mara,” Pavo said as if it had been him who had just risked everything.
Nine
Don’t Let The Bastards Get You Down
Ana
“Auntie,” I said, barrelling into the cabin, “you’re not gonna believe what Pavo let slip.”
I came to an abrupt stop as I belatedly realised Aunt Mara was not alone. The man from the treadmill at the gym slowly rose from one of the stools in the corner and turned to face me. My eyes scanned his uniform; a uniform similar to the one I was wearing. The obvious difference being the ship’s captain insignia on his uniform collar.
“Ana,” my aunt said in her you’ve-been-a-very-bad-girl voice, “this is Captain Jameson.”
Of course, it was.
He smiled at me. I blinked. That smile looked decidedly happy. The sort of smile I imagined the Cheshire Cat wearing in the Alice in Wonderland story.
“You’re Ana Kereama?” the captain said.
“I…I am,” I managed. “Sir,” I added, my military training rearing its ugly head. I’d almost come to full attention. He smirked.
“And tell me, Ana,” he said. Shouldn’t captains be more formal than that? “What did Pavo let slip?”
I glanced at the ceiling.
“Um,” I said.
“Pavo?” the captain asked, not taking his eyes off me.
“Yes, Captain?”
“What did you let slip to Ms Kereama?”
“Ana has been doctoring me.”
Captain Jameson took a step back; alarm flared in his very expressive green eyes. If he’d had a weapon to reach for, I was sure he would have held it by now.
I glared at the ceiling.
“Pavo has been attempting to understand emotions,” I explained, loudly. “I’ve been helping him. From a purely medical point of view.”
“Not just emotions, Captain,” Pavo went on oblivious to the glare I was giving him via the ceiling. “Ana has helped me to understand grief.”
“Grief,” the captain said, his voice level. He held my gaze. I was pretty damn sure he could see right through me. “Grief,” he said again, this time there was almost a question there. But not quite. As if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
I bit my bottom lip and tried a smile.
The captain ran a hand through his blonde hair. It was military short, just how I liked it. When he turned his back to me, obviously deep in thought, I could see his nape clearly. See the strength outlined in the tendons down his neck. Leading to the muscles across his back I’d glimpsed in the gym during my last break.
I abruptly turned my gaze to the wall, unfortunately coming into eye contact with my aunt. She arched her brow at me and then smirked.
The captain suddenly turned back around, garnering my attention again. His eyes burned with intensity. I had no idea what he saw when he looked at me, but I sure liked what I was seeing. I’d always been a sucker for a commander.
And then I was thinking of Sam, my army sergeant. And the frantic effort to save his life that led to so much heartache. I realised I was staring at the gel coating on the floor and Pavo had changed it to a green sea for me. I blinked back tears.
“It seems,” I heard the captain say; I reluctantly brought my head up. He wasn’t looking at me; I couldn’t tell if that was a conscious act on his part; a concession to the fact that I was all blubbery. He didn’t seem the kind to accommodate people’s feelings. Most captains weren’t. But somehow he was accommodating me. “That circumstances aren’t quite as they should be. For the time being, I must insist that both of you do not breathe so much as a word of what has transpired to anyone else.” He looked at me briefly and then immediately turned his gaze to my aunt. “For the safety of the fleet.”
It was true, then. We’d lost a ship. I leaned back against the gel wall and tried to breathe. The Captain’s eyes came up to mine and stayed there. He looked as devastated as I was feeling.
“Pavo,” he said, still holding my gaze; grounding me. “Please bring up Anderson Universal NDA-01-Alpha-3.”
On the gel wall of the door, a form appeared. A military grade non-disclosure agreement.
“You signed something similar when you were given your pay-for-passage assignment, “ the captain said to me. “This is the form my officers are required to sign. It’s…more binding.”
“Throw us in the brig type of binding?” I asked.
He grimaced. “I’m afraid so. But,” he added smiling; somehow it wasn’t as good as the first smile he’d given me, “now I can share all manner of secret things with you.”
I snorted unattractively. He laughed. The smile he gave me this time was more real.
I stepped forward and quickly read the NDA, then lifted my hand to the section requiring my palm print and biosignature. My aunt did the same to hers.
“Welcome to Anderson Universal,” the captain said, as Pavo let the forms fade into the gel wall.
I let out a breath of air and huffed, “Thanks.”
The captain studied me for a brief moment longer and then straightened his jacket.
“Ms Kereama,” he said, suddenly formal again. “Shall we?”
He held out his arm for my aunt. I step forward, concern making my heart beat a little too swiftly.
“Auntie?” I asked.
“Oh, don’t look so worried, aroha,” she said to me. “The captain’s escorting me to a meeting.”
“A meeting? Since when do you go to meetings?” I asked.
Sexy, the captain may be, but I didn’t trust him.
“We should get going,” the captain said smoothly. “We’re already late.”
I stepped in front of them, barring them access to the door.
“Who are you meeting, Aunt Mara?” I demanded.
“Just Damon, Ana,” she said, waving me out of the way. I didn’t move.
“Why?” I looked at the captain, who held my stare defiantly, and then looked at my aunt.
Who looked tired and…was she looking more frail than usual?
“I’m coming with you,” I announced.
“Now, I don’t think that’s really necessary, Ms Kereama,” the captain said.
I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my chin.
“With all due respect, sir, my aunt is elderly, and I’m in charge of her ongoing care.”
“Ana!” Aunt Mara scolded.
“I’ll take good care of her,” the captain insisted.
“With all due respect, again, sir, I have only just met you.”
Silence. The inferred had been obvious. And such a blatant lack of respect - lack of trust - in one’s superior officer would not have been tolerated in the army.
The captain stared at me for a long, drawn-out moment. I could practically see the bars on the brig’s cells in my head. Or in the steely glint in his eyes. I stayed the course, regretting my outburst the more the seconds stretched between us. This was not a military ship, but it was run rather like one. Aside from the complication of the civilian population having a mayor.
But I wasn’t part of the civilian population anymore. I’d been assigned to the medical team, which came under the authority of the captain. Hell, the doctor held the rank of lieutenant commander. I didn’t have a rank, but I was directly under the doctor’s purview.
I was also pushing my luck by challenging the captain.
I had a choice. Let my anger and fear rule me. Or act like the soldier I’d been trained to be. I may have been discharged from the New Zealand Army, but that didn’t mean a thing.
Once a grunt always a grunt.
I stepped aside, leaving the way to the door free. Aunt Mara let out a relieved breath of air. The captain looked at me with a depth of understanding I wouldn’t have thought he’d feel.
“Captain,” I said, pressing on the wall beside the door to open it.
“Ms Kereama,” he
said, and escorted my aunt outside.
The door slid closed behind them.
I slid to the floor, my back to the wall.
The gel wall decor shifted to a green meadow, softly blowing in a breeze.
“Don’t let the bastards get you down, Ana,” Pavo said.
I tipped my head back and tried to smile at the ceiling.
“Keep an eye on my aunt, please, Pavo,” I whispered.
“Of course,” he whispered back to me.
Ten
I’m The Captain!
Jameson
She could have come with us, of course. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want her at my side…in any capacity. She was one hell of a woman. But she’d correctly assessed the situation, as a decent soldier should. I couldn’t allow her the insubordination. I’d hoped, at the time, that she’d see reason and I wouldn’t have to take the next step. But I would have taken it regardless.
Now, if she’d been Doc, then the situation would have been entirely different. He could get away with challenging me. Torrence could, too. But as it stood, being a pay-for-passage, Ana Kereama carried no rank at all. The best I could offer her was Second Lieutenant, considering where she’d been assigned. In fact, I made a mental note for Pavo to arrange it; a field commission. It was warranted.
She’d signed her life away with that last NDA. And I intended to take full advantage of it.
I smiled to myself as Ms Kereama and I made slow progress down the corridor. She walked with stiff determination, but she was not capable of moving fast. I shortened my strides to match hers and attempted to act as though this was my usual pace on board ship.
When we finally reached the main deck and the large area assigned to Damon Archibald, we were almost ten minutes late for our appointment. I’d dealt with Archibald in the lead up to launch, not as much as Anderson himself had before he died. But enough to know what sort of man Archibald was. He admired Anderson’s military approach to spaceflight; he did not like being kept waiting. And he believed himself and his time more important than anyone else’s.
Accelerating Universe: The Sector Fleet Book One Page 5
