by Aaron Bunce
“I…” Jacoby stammered, temporarily taken off guard. He’d been prepared to hold himself accountable for everything and apologize, to ask her for forgiveness, not the other way around. “We couldn’t leave you back there. It’s not all on you, Emiko. I stopped thinking about anyone or anything else. I locked onto what Poole was doing in Anna’s head, and decided I couldn’t trust him. I shouldn’t have pulled you and Reeds in like that. I should have worked it out with Poole–not let either of our stubbornness or anger put everyone else at risk.”
I’m going to remind you of this moment often, Jacky-Boy. Like all the time.
“Don’t you see? That’s what we needed? We needed someone who could block out everything but the best available paths forward. At that moment, the hospital block was it, the only answer to Anna’s problem. Reeds and I were the only ones who could help. The only other option was to stay where we were and watch her die.”
“But I never asked you or the doc if you wanted to help, or for that matter, considered that there might be no way to help her when and if we got there. It’s on me. If I would have worked this out and trusted Poole, maybe even stopped talking long enough to listen to Reeds, everything might have turned out differently.”
“Differently?” Emiko asked, sniffing quietly. She took another drink of her coffee and cleared her throat before continuing. Jacoby noticed that she avoided meeting Anna’s gaze.
“You realize that “everything going differently” might mean that we all died back there? There is no way to know. You acted out of fear for her. For that matter, so did I and Doctor Reeds. We were all desperate to live, to escape…to help her,” Emiko said, nodding towards, and for the first time, looking Anna’s way. “We can change the variables around, but there is no way to be sure that those same decisions that you’re second guessing and cursing yourself for now, aren’t the only reason why we’re all alive. Maybe it was putting Anna in the surgical pod that actually helped her come through…whatever it was that was happening to her. Maybe Reeds had already stopped trusting you, or never did, for that matter. It does you no good to doubt it all now.”
I could tell you, but no one is asking me. Besides, truth is a subjective and arbitrary concept, Poole said, his voice bubbling into Jacoby’s mind.
“I don’t know. I can’t help but think that we did everything the wrong way. The hard way.”
“The hard way?” Anna asked, speaking for the first time in a long while. “We survived an alien outbreak that consumed pretty much everyone on the station. There was no easy way, Coby. There is no easy way to deal with it, either. It’s okay to hurt and struggle sometimes. Our bodies heal, but that doesn’t mean we’re not scarred up and still broken on the inside.”
Scarred up, or totally upgraded! Honestly, you should have seen the inside of your skull when I first got here. Jacky-Boy, your brain was a hall of horrors. Now, it’s a cabinet of curiosities–so many dark nooks and crannies for me to store my experiments.
Jacoby returned a squeeze after Anna covered his hand with hers.
“I should have talked to you right away. Thanked you for helping me when that…creature latched on to me in the surgery. You saved my life,” Jacoby said, turning back to the nurse. “Honestly, I saw you coming at me with that scalpel, and for a moment, I thought you were going to stab me!”
Emiko laughed. “I thought I did at first. Once that thing wrapped around you and sank its teeth in, you went so horribly pale. I almost couldn’t tell where you ended, and it began.”
“Well, thank you for stabbing the right…pale one.”
“You’re welcome,” Emiko said, tucking in and sipping her coffee again. “I was scared back there, and still before we spoke. But I want to be brave now. Especially with everything still being so uncertain.”
A simple fix–rewire a few million neurons and reassign some olfactory centers in her brain and we could make Emiko the toughest, bravest Chica you’ve ever met. Wait, no that’s Spanish. I guess it would be On’nanoko in Japanese, which is closer. She’d be like a small, but fierce Samurai warriorette. Red would definitely fight her for the title of toughest on the Betty, though. Man, would that be exciting. The spectacle. Thumb wrestling? No no no. Just wrestling? Ahhh, boring. I’ve got it! Burrito folding! Yes. Yes! This MUST happen–combat-oriented burrito folding!
“We can help you,” Anna said, squeezing Jacoby’s hand again. “I am here now, a fact that I have you to thank for. Jacoby is alive thanks to you we well. By my count, two people on this little ship are alive because of you. If you ask me, that’s the result of some pretty brave action.”
Jacoby watched Emiko listen to Anna. Her posture and demeanor slowly relaxed, but at the same time, her back straightened a bit, as if a tremendous burden was being lifted off her shoulders. He quietly slid out of his chair as the two women fell into an easy conversation, flitting regularly between the narrow scrapes of their escape from Hyde, to their own, unique experiences growing up, and eventually to what lay ahead.
Jacoby moved into the kitchen, listening passively as he rifled through the food stores. He settled on two marked “breakfast w/pb meat side”, whatever the “pb” meant, and slid them into the reconstitution module. A few minutes late, he pulled them free, tore the foil wrappers off, grabbed a few forks, and slid them onto the table.
Anna and Emiko immediately picked up forks and started picking at the food, chewing through the cubed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and scrambled egg substitute. Jacoby listened to Emiko talk about her village back on earth, what was probably mundane everyday life for her fascinating and new for him. He dumped the small container of salsa on the eggs in one container, only to have both women abandon it for the other. Clearly, they weren’t fans.
Anna asked a lot of questions, as she usually did, seemingly soaking up every element of what made Emiko’s culture different than her own. It’s what she did, and ultimately, why people liked her. She took the time to listen and make people feel like who they were and what they had to say were important. Jacoby ate and listened, learning what he could from his friend.
The conversation inevitably turned back towards their predicament, ironically enough coinciding with them finishing the last of their food and coffee. He didn’t love the idea of talking about it all again but knew this was their opportunity to pick Emiko’s brain for information of the medical nature.
“I think it needs to be simple, at this point. It is all about mitigating the organism’s ability to spread,” Anna said, responding when Emiko asked her about the next few steps in their plan. “It’s how we protect as many people as possible, right? How would you handle it if this were in a hospital or lab setting?”
“Pandemic protocols would be used,” Emiko said, sitting up straighter. “The organisms and virus are unknowns, but we would definitely work to minimize contact. On one hand…quarantine those confirmed or suspected of infection, implement sanitization and cordon barriers, and research its exact methods of transmission. On the other, begin development of a vaccine. That is, if you can even vaccinate against something like this.”
“That all makes sense,” Anna said, lifting her mug to take a sip, only to set it down with a disappointed sigh. “But before any of that can happen, people need to know. We have to function as if we’re the only ones left alive, or maybe the only ones in a position to get a warning out. We continue our course, get to the closest possible station, and send out a warning. We can’t consider the freighters viable options, as there is a real chance at least one person aboard those ships is infected.”
Emiko nodded and they continued to talk, with Jacoby listening. Time seemed to blur by, his empty coffee mug sitting forgotten in his hand.
Ask her about me, Poole whispered into his mind.
Hmm?
The nurse. She’s comfortable now, at ease. We need to get her thinking about a way to pass my inocculatory capacity along to the others. She is our best bet to start figuring out this mutated virus and get everyo
ne us all onto the same team. Ya know? Team Poole.
And what if they don’t want to be on your team? If you gave me the choice now, I would opt out so freaking fast.
Blasphemy! Get…out…of here with that silliness, Jacky. I’m like the brother you never had. And of course, they’ll want me inside them. It’ll only take like five minutes of me refining their genetic code before they wonder how they ever got along with me. Poole’s laugh filled his head.
You’re a child. And inoculatory? I’m fairly sure that isn’t a word, Jacoby thought back.
If it isn’t, then it should be. It just sounds cool. But seriously, Jacky, the only way we avoid complications is if we’re all on the same page here. If something were to happen, I need to make sure they’re sealed off from the virus, biologically speaking. And the others? Well, they haven’t exactly warmed to the whole “alien imbedded in one of our brains” scenario. They won’t trust, and what they won’t trust, they’ll work to sabotage.
We’re on a small boat in the black. We’re safe here.
Poole’s laughter filled his mind again, but a voice next to him cut off his next words.
“I agree, Anna. Jacoby, it should be you.”
“Hmm?” Jacoby asked, roused from his internal conversation.
“The Betty is a small ship, but she is a ship. A ship needs a crew, and a crew needs a captain, a leader. We all respect you. I think it should be you,” Emiko said.
Jacoby chuckled at the notion, the sound overlapping and syncing perfectly with Poole’s laughter in his head. He didn’t know the first thing about leading a crew or a spaceship, for that matter. Hell, in the hierarchy of their small group, he was probably the least qualified for every single task a “crew” would need to complete.
“Maybe janitor,” he said after a moment.
Anna understood tech, Erik and Lana knew the ship, the systems, and how to fly it. Soraya was organized, understood complex schedules, and could navigate star charts. Lex was tough as nails and tactical. She’d also been part of teams her whole life and understood the dynamics of order and working together. And Shane was a leader. Shit, he was probably the only foreman he’d looked up to and respected on the production floor. The guy knew how to lead people and keep things moving.
“No, I’m serious,” Emiko said, and judging from the look in her dark eyes, it was almost like she knew exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t think a single person on this ship would second guess you at this point. Not after what I saw back on the station. We’ve got people that know how to fly the ship, people that can cook, organize…pretty much do everything else. But you are decisive and consider other people before yourself in a pinch. When you speak, you mean it. That sounds like the makings of a good captain to me.”
Jacoby laughed and looked from Emiko to Anna, but she wasn’t laughing either.
“We’re not joking, Coby. We need to establish some structure around here. You used to talk about the Skeleton Queen all the time, and how she undermined productivity by tearing people down, by not just playing favorites but playing people against each other. This is your opportunity to take charge and prove her wrong. Prove why you’re better suited than people like her.”
Emiko looked to Anna, her left eyebrow cocked in confusion.
“My boss back on Hyde. Janice. She was a real shrew,” Jacoby explained, “we called her the ‘Skeleton Queen’ behind her back because she was thin and boney. Her voice was a thing of nightmares.”
“It should be you. People follow a strong voice. So far, that has been you. And before you come back with a ‘I don’t know the first thing about managing a ship’ or ‘I’ve never lead people before’, just think of all the people in history that taken the reins of a bad situation and succeeded. Most did because the mantle fell to them, not because they had the most experience on a resume or friends in the right places. We know you’re strong, now it’s time to prove it to yourself.”
Jacoby looked around the table, then to the ladder to the hold, and finally around to the small bridge. It was a small ship, and although the idea initially felt strange, he understood how a little order and structure could go a long way. Thoughts and ideas started bubbling to the surface, like carbonation broken loose in a fizzy drink—ways he’d structure a schedule for the galley, when and who would cook. How they would handle their inventory, etc. They were thoughts, ideas he’d had and immediately stored away because…well, someone else was always in charge and better at that sort of thing.
“Now that you mention it…” he started to say.
“Perfect,” Emiko interrupted. “I knew you would see it our way. First, I think you should go and talk to Erik. He’s pretty freaked out by this whole thing. I tried to talk to him, but I was still a little unsure where I stood with the rest of you. Also, I don’t really know that much about what you’re dealing with…with the whole invisible version of you and all that.”
“Poole,” Jacoby said, quietly.
“Uh, yeah. Probably the one thing hardest for the rest of us to understand. I got the feeling that he, Erik, that is, doesn’t believe you. I think Shane, too. But I don’t know. They wouldn’t really talk to me that much, just kept asking me if you were actually infected, or if you were dangerous, and what else I knew. Honestly, I think it would be best if you went and talked to them both, man to man. That might help them understand.”
Seeing is believing, Jacky-Boy. Understanding how people deal with trauma is key. If you are ranting about seeing an invisible person, and that invisible person is unlocking previously unheard-of abilities in you and the people you come into contact with, they are likely to think you are suffering from some sort of psychosis or delusion. No, scratch that. They definitely think you are bat-shit off your rocker, nuts already. Have fun convincing them otherwise.
“I wouldn’t blame them for doubting it. I would, too, if it were not happening in my head. For some people, I think they need to see it to actually understand what’s happening. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how we can do that,” he said, silently envisioning his hand tossing Poole into the mouth of an open and highly active volcano.
“Why don’t you go talk to them. I think that will help a lot. I will talk to Anna about this Poole creature and see if I can come up with anything.”
“Okay,” he said, but felt far less confident.
Creature? Did she really just call me a creature? Ugh, why didn’t you correct her. I am humanity’s next evolutionary step…
Jacoby promptly slid out of his seat.
0630 Hours
Manis gagged, something thick and ropey forcing its way up his throat. He tried to bend over but restraints held his body upright, a hard, sharp pain biting into his back.
A bright light blurred his vision, only adding to his confusion. He sucked in a quick breath past the lump in his throat, tried to speak, and was immediately hit with another horrible wave of nausea. It didn’t feel like any sickness he’d ever felt before, but more a total and complete rejection of every organ in his body.
Manis blinked against the light, fighting with every fiber of his being to hold the rising sick down, to master his body once again, but it felt like a living, moving thing was trying to crawl up his throat and out his mouth.
“Hey, he’s awake,” someone said, their voice ahead and somewhere behind the bright light. He quickly scanned around the glare, to the right and as far as his head would turn, but the light ruined his eyes, kept them from focusing onto the shadows.
A dark, shadowy form moved through the light’s glare, the high-low contrast leaving them a featureless outline. Manis managed to swallow down the lump in his throat, but just barely.
“Mr. Nazzar, I am glad to see you are awake, although I find that is where my happiness ends. For my part, I apologize for your current condition. But…” the man said, his slight accent and gruff voice triggering a hint of recognition, “with the outbreak on the station we cannot be too careful. I gather you are a prudent man, so this will
make sense, I think.”
Manis swallowed, the lump catching halfway through the action. It took him a moment to put the pieces together in his mind, the voice and stature muddled by the light and his sickness.
The Captain, he thought, his mind splitting on whether he wanted to beg the man to release him or scream at him and demand it.
The pressure returned to his chest, at the base of his throat. It made it hard to draw breath, and worse, it felt like it would rush up and out of his mouth without warning.
“If you are cooperative, and perhaps a little less abusive to my crew, then I think it might be possible to loosen your bindings to find some comfort. If you cannot, well, I’m afraid to say that we deep space captains are afforded power to make some rather horrible decisions. We are in a sealed vessel, sir, and I cannot allow one man to threaten the lives of my crew and our refugees. Now, to start, I need you to answer some questions.”
Manis blinked several times. The blur started to lift, the glare not quite washing everything into that confusing, over-washed contrast. But the blur didn’t fully go away, and then he realized why. Something hung between himself and the captain, stretched over the dark outline of a metal frame.
It’s plastic. I’m in a tent? he thought, flashing back to Hyde station and Layla Misra’s lab, where hermetically sealed tents housed sick patients.
“What was inside these?” the captain asked, holding up a bag on the other side of the plastic. Manis could just make out round, dark shapes inside. “Why did you bring them onto the Atlass? And why did you try to hide them when we entered? They are dark and smudged. Is it blood? Were you trying to store something in these? Or were they already full?”
