by Zen DiPietro
Jess had intended to leave much sooner, but her transport had fallen through and she couldn’t book another for a full month. As a result, she had to cancel her plans for a vacation and go from Asimov straight to her next job.
She was surly about it, too. She could often be heard muttering, “Bloody Rescan transports.”
Fortunately, there were no Rescans on board at that time.
At the moment, Fallon’s life consisted of emergency simulations, surveillance, and suspicion. She and Minho had done two more data grabs during drills, and while there was no single thing that looked suspicious, a couple of patterns had emerged.
Captain Lydecker followed almost exactly the same routine every day. He woke and went to bed at the same time, took meals at the same times, and worked through his duties in the same order. On days that were disrupted by drills, he adjusted his schedule in a way to accomplish the same tasks with as much similarity to his regular routine as possible.
Except for every fourth day. For some reason, on every fourth day, he got up earlier, stayed up later, and skipped breakfast.
Thus far, Fallon and Minho couldn’t figure out why.
The other pattern they identified involved the crew. Lydecker’s first officer, and the person who was second in command of the station, had exhibited some off behavior. Commander Torra Eidel had seemed to be highly organized, based on the condition in which she kept her quarters. But for some reason, she frequently showed up three to eight minutes late for her duty shifts. The login and logout times of her work shifts clearly showed behavior that should have prompted action on the captain’s part.
But the records showed that Lydecker had taken no action. At least, if he had, it hadn’t been an official action, as he’d written nothing at all about these incidents.
Minho and Fallon had been unable to find any evidence of him disciplining her in person, either.
A very unusual scenario.
When she went to Minho’s quarters to review the previous day’s activity on the station, she expressed her concerns.
“Are we going to have enough time to complete a thorough investigation?”
“What do you mean?” Minho asked.
“So far, we’ve found nothing incriminating. Just a couple of oddities. We might not have enough time to find the reason for those oddities.”
He flipped through screens showing the activity reports for the previous day’s night shift. “If we don’t find anything incriminating, then that’s the result we have. Our goal is not to find proof of guilt. It’s to investigate. A lack of results is still results. If PAC command wanted us to remain until we could find something to nail Lydecker for, they would have given us a different cover.”
“Why not give us a cover that ensures we can exhaust all the possibilities, though?” she asked.
He shifted his attention to her. “If command wanted us to know that, they’d have told us. We perform the job they give us, under the parameters they choose. Everything else is part of their larger game plan, which we don’t get to know.”
She chewed on that idea for a full minute before asking, “Do you think it’s likely that we’re here under a pretense, and that the job we’re actually doing is not the one we think we’re doing?”
He smiled. “You’re catching on.”
“Do you think that’s what this is?” she pressed.
“I don’t think it is, and I don’t think it isn’t. Or to be more precise, I don’t think about anything that isn’t the specific mission I was told to accomplish. Focus on what’s ahead of you. If you ever make it to senior command, then it will become your job to play multilevel galactic chess. Until then, you’re just one of the game pieces.”
She frowned. That didn’t fit at all with her proactive, fight-hard philosophy.
He patted her on the shoulder. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Think of it this way—you get to fly in, kick ass, and ditch out instead of sitting in an office, plotting and making decisions.”
“That does sound better,” she admitted.
“Perspective is everything.”
They finished going through the data for the previous shift.
“I’m not seeing anything here,” Minho said. “I’ve set up lunch with Katheryn today. It’ll just look like a casual meal, but I want to talk to her about Priestley.”
“Priestley? Why?”
“I’ve heard some whispers that the captain doesn’t like him. I want to get Katheryn’s take on it.”
“Is Priestley being treated poorly?” She didn’t like the idea of the guy being unfairly targeted. Just because he wasn’t as social as other people wasn’t a reason to treat him poorly. He always did his job well.
“There’s nothing on the record, but I want to see if anything’s going on off the record. I dislike the idea of leaving him here if it’s going to be a bad situation for him.”
She liked that he, like her, seemed to feel a sense of responsibility to those who had previously been under his command. “What could we do, if that were the case?”
“I don’t know. Put in a word at command that he should be transferred, maybe. More likely, just smoothing things over a little would do the trick. You know, find out if there’s been some misunderstanding and sort it out.”
“Okay. It’ll be nice to see Katheryn. I’m curious about her take on the captain. And whether she’s heard anything about how her fellow command officers feel about him.”
Minho nodded. “Me too.”
She clapped her hands together. “Okay, I think it’s drill time. What should we do today?”
He thoughtfully pursed his lips. “How about collision emergency, scenario two?”
“We did that one two days ago.”
“Exactly. They’ll expect a different scenario and be looking for a different solution.”
She smiled. “I like it. Collision scenario two it is.”
He paused and eyed her. “Admit it. You like making a whole space station dance to your tune.”
“It does have a certain charm,” she said. “Maybe I’m destined to sit in the big command chair at Jamestown, after all.”
He pretended to shudder and put a hand over his heart. “May Prelin protect us.”
When Fallon arrived at Minho’s quarters for lunch, Katheryn already sat at the table, sipping tea.
“Am I late?” Fallon checked the chronometer on her comport.
Katheryn bowed at the waist from her sitting position. Since they were in a casual setting and had agreed to be informal in the past, it wasn’t necessary to bow, but she probably did it out of habit.
“No, I was early,” Katheryn said. “I always plan extra time to get anywhere, because I expect to get stopped and asked about this or that.”
Minho walked over from the kitchenette and placed a cup in front of Fallon, then poured tea into it. “Ah, I bet as the lowest-ranking member of the command crew, you get all the questions that people can’t or don’t want to ask of the senior staff.”
“You’re right about that. I’ve gotten everything from, ‘Does the captain ever relax?’ to, ‘Is the security liaison single?’” She laughed.
“Well, Minho is kind of cute, in his own way,” Fallon said, chuckling with her.
“They weren’t talking about him,” Katheryn said.
“Oh.” Fallon had assumed that any personal interest would be directed toward him.
Minho found it quite amusing, judging by his grin.
“For the record,” Fallon said, “I’m not in a relationship, but I’m not available either. I have too much going on in my career to deal with dating right now.”
“I’ll just tell them you’re involved,” Katheryn decided. “That’s more likely to discourage them.”
It was also the truth, though Katheryn thought it wasn’t, which was a bit ironic.
Minho joined them at the table with his own cup of tea. “The food will be ready in a few minutes. It just needs to sit and cool a little. So what do yo
u think of Lydecker, for real, off the record?”
“Hmm.” Katheryn looked down into her tea. “He’s methodical. Professional. A very by-the-book kind of guy. He’s a little…formal. But maybe that will relax a little once he feels like he’s established order here and ensured that the station runs well. Maybe after the admirals tour the station?” She shrugged. “Or maybe he doesn’t loosen up with crew at all. Either way, it seems like he’ll be okay to work for.”
“Have you heard of any issues between him and the crew?” Minho asked.
Though his tone was entirely casual, as if he’d just thought of the question, Katheryn straightened. “Why, have you heard something?”
Answering a question with a question indicated that maybe she had heard of something noteworthy.
Fallon wondered if Katheryn might be savvy enough to have used this get-together to do her own reconnaissance on the captain.
If so, that would certainly be interesting, and add a new facet to Fallon’s understanding of the woman.
Fallon looked to Minho.
“We’ve noticed a couple of odd things. But we don’t want to go poking around where we shouldn’t. Is there anything we should know?”
She pressed her lips together, as if preventing words from leaving of their own volition. Then she said, “He and the first officer seem very familiar. More than I’d have expected. And she arrives late on a regular basis, with no explanation. Nobody has said anything, but I can tell everyone’s wondering about it.”
Minho and Fallon exchanged a look.
“What do you think it is?” Katheryn asked, glancing from one to the other.
“We noticed something odd there, too,” Fallon admitted. “But it could be any number of things that are entirely official or on the level. How a captain handles his crew is up to him. But it is odd, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Katheryn said. “It’s gone on too long and is too obvious for it not to be strange.”
“We’ll do a little careful looking,” Minho said. “Also, I think it’s possible he has an issue with Priestley,” he said. “I wanted to see what I could find out about that.”
A crease appeared between Katheryn’s eyebrows. “I hadn’t heard that. But I haven’t followed up with him and the other contractors much.” She ducked her head. “I should have thought to do that.”
Minho said gently, “You’re new to being a command officer. You’ve been swamped.”
“Still. I should have looked out for him and the others better. I’ll look into it.”
“Carefully,” Minho warned. “We don’t want anyone talking about it or taking notice. There’s no reason for you to get on the captain’s bad side.”
“That would make for an awful three or four years, wouldn’t it?” She grimaced.
“I’ve heard some horror stories of people who clashed with their commanding officers,” he said. “Let’s avoid that, for sure.”
He got up and started bringing the food over. He set large bowls in front of Katheryn, then Fallon, then sat down with one for himself.
Fallon stared in surprise at the food he’d made.
“What is this?” Katheryn asked.
“Ramen,” Minho said. “Traditional Japanese dish. Emiko mentioned it the other day and it’s been on my mind, so I thought I’d take a whack at it.”
In each bowl, two neat halves of a soft-boiled egg carefully nestled on top of the noodles, which were surrounded by a light-brown broth. She’d bet a thousand credits there was an egg cooked into the broth, too.
She smiled at him, touched.
He smiled back. “The noodles should be at the perfect texture right now. We should eat before they get soggy.”
They dug in. While they didn’t taste exactly like the ones she’d eaten growing up, they were delicious.
As they ate, and for a while afterward, they chatted about the crew, the drills, and general life on the station.
“Another restaurant opened today,” Katheryn said. “And two more stores open tomorrow. The remaining medical crew will arrive by the end of the week. We’re almost all together.”
“It’s a shame we won’t be here to see it when it’s one hundred percent complete,” Fallon said.
“You’ll have to come visit when you have a chance,” Katheryn said.
It didn’t seem likely, since Fallon and Minho were using false identities. But who knew? It was always possible they could be sent back under those same identities, or be disguised as someone else. Surely at some point, in one method or another, she’d return to Asimov.
“I’d love to,” Fallon said. “Though this is a bit out of the way. It would be a little tough to just drop by on my way somewhere else.”
“Yes,” Katheryn agreed. “But I hope I’ll see you sometime, all the same.”
The lieutenant arched her back and stretched. “Well, I should get to sleep. You never know when someone will set off alarms in the middle of the night.”
Fallon and Minho chuckled.
“It was good catching up with you,” Fallon said.
“Let me know if you hear anything about any friction between the captain and any of the people here,” Minho added. “I’d like to help smooth things over, if I can.”
“I will. And thanks again for the food.” Katheryn waved before walking out the doors.
After they closed again and Fallon and Minho were alone, she asked, “What are the odds of us being sent back here at some point?”
“As good as anything, I guess.” He stacked the dishes and took them into the kitchenette. “But we’re usually involved in things that are against the odds, so taking that into consideration, I don’t know if that makes it more or less likely.”
“Well, that was confusing.”
He turned to face her and smiled. “I’m tired. Someone keeps setting off alarms when I’m sleeping.”
She walked into the kitchenette to get a cloth so she could wipe the table off. “Yeah, that was you.”
“And you,” he pointed out, moving to the sink and turning the water on to start washing the bowls.
“But mostly you.” She retrieved a towel, then reached around him to wet it under the faucet.
“There’s no ‘mostly’ with running a drill. There either is a drill, or there is not a drill.”
She went to the table and started wiping it off with long, smooth strokes. “You’re being pedantic.”
“I am not,” he argued. “I’m being factual.”
She returned to the kitchenette and wiped the counter, then turned around and leaned back against it. “Thank you for making ramen, by the way. It was very sweet of you.”
He set the last bowl aside to dry, turned off the water, and looked at her. “You’re welcome.”
“I wasn’t happy about having my team split up,” she said, all traces of humor and teasing gone. “But I’m glad that you were on this mission with me.”
“Want to know something?” he asked.
“What?” she asked.
“When I received the assignment to go to the academy and work with you, I didn’t want to. Really didn’t want to. I asked for a different assignment, and I’ve never done that. But then I met you, and you were green and disliked me immediately, but I liked you right away.”
“I didn’t dislike you,” she said. “I just didn’t know you, and I definitely didn’t trust you.”
“Ah.” His voice was soft.
She became aware of the fact that he was just centimeters away. That wasn’t unusual, since they often sparred or worked together in small spaces. But the mood had changed. There was an atmosphere of…something.
Chemistry. There was a strong pull between them. She felt it, and knew from the unguarded look on his face that he did, too.
Was it her imagination, or had he just shifted closer?
“Emergency alert!” she blurted.
He blinked and took a step back. “What?”
“Let’s do a life support failure drill.” Realiz
ing she was still holding the wet cloth, she dropped it in the sink and marched to the voicecom.
“Aw, no, not a life support drill. I hate rebreathers. They chap my lips and make my throat sore.”
“Yep. Life support.” She entered the commands and activated the program for life support emergency scenario one.
Immediately, the voicecom systems came alive.
“They’re really going to hate us tomorrow,” he warned. “Two drills in one day.”
“Good thing we’ll only be here a few weeks, then, right? Let’s go.” She led the way, marching out confidently.
Inside, though, she wondered if she’d just avoided a crisis of a different kind.
8
The following day, Fallon went to visit Jess, Jacen, and Priestley. Jacen was scheduled to leave the next day, so she wanted a chance to talk to him, but more importantly she wanted to follow up on the question of whether Captain Lydecker had been treating him unfairly.
She didn’t intend to run any emergency procedures after having done two the previous day. First, because people needed a chance to do their actual work, as there was a lot of it. Second, because the crew would probably be expecting one, which made the exercise less valuable.
She went to see her three former subordinates individually, so they could speak in private. She dropped by Jess’s quarters first.
“Welcome to my shoebox,” Jess said, stepping back so Fallon could enter.
She was joking, but not by much. As someone who was neither currently employed at the station nor someone renting space as a transient, she’d been relegated to a tiny sleeping room with no kitchenette and only a basic necessary with a portable sonic shower.
“Have a seat.” Jess pointed. “You can choose between the middle of the bed and the foot of the bed.”
She wasn’t joking.
Fallon sat at the foot of the bed. “At least it’s clean and quiet. And no bad smells.”
“Oh, you’ve been to the loud, dirty, and stinky place too, huh? Yeah, I hate it there.”
“You’re a lot more cheerful than I thought you’d be, after getting stranded here,” Fallon observed.
