Brightly Burning

by Alexa Donne

  “Have you bewitched my AI while I’ve been away? On a first-name basis with her and everything.”

  I turned, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “No one else calls her Rori. She must like you if she told you her name. And she obeyed your instruction without checking with me first. Unusual indeed.”

  I shrugged off his bemusement and turned back to the books, running my fingers over the spines of several, until one caught my eye. “Have you read this one?” I asked, gently nudging a half-­broken paperback from the shelf, turning it over in my hands, then showing it to him. The title was barely visible, but the cover image was striking. A mountain obscured by clouds, with a name that was familiar to me: Everest.

  “I haven’t, but I recall seeing my father read it more than once. All the books in here were favorites of his. I’m still getting around to reading them all.”

  “May I borrow it?” I asked.

  “You may,” Hugo replied slowly. “On one condition.”

  I braced myself. This was where the other shoe dropped, I was sure. He was going to say something rude. Buy me a drink first, at least. I flushed at the memory.

  “This room has temperature and humidity controls, so I prefer to keep the books in here. If you’d like to read it, join me in the evenings and read here. Consider it our standing appointment.”

  “Um, sure,” I stammered in my surprise.

  “Excellent,” he said, pulling himself up from his chair. “Now, I was serious about being tired, so if you’ll excuse me, I will bid you good night.”

  I set the book on a side table next to my chair, and as it seemed uncouth to camp out in his study, I followed him out and started for my quarters. Only the captain seemed to be following me. I glanced back over my shoulder, and indeed, Hugo was about ten steps behind.

  “It seems we are going the same way,” he said, jogging to catch up. “I didn’t mean to rush you to bed.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’m honestly exhausted. I had a six-a.m. wakeup call and a rough morning.”

  “That goes for two of us,” he said, reminding me of our auspicious beginnings just over twelve hours before. “On that topic, I’d prefer we keep everything that happened with the transport bay just between you and me, if you don’t mind.” I readily agreed, not exactly keen to have everyone know how badly I had messed up. He stopped in front of a door one down from mine.

  “Looks like we’re neighbors,” I said, continuing to my own door.

  “I’ll try not to snore too loudly,” Hugo called out, voice echoing down the corridor. The sound was followed by a curious meow, the fluffy black cat sidling into view. He marched a few steps past Hugo, sitting down halfway between us.

  “What’s his name?” I asked.

  “He wasn’t quite as friendly and forthcoming as Rori, I’m guessing,” Hugo quipped. I cast him a steady glare. “His name is Luna,” he finally supplied. “And I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry, he’s very secure in his masculinity.” Explanation came after a beat. “Jessa named him. She was four. Luna here also has a sister named Jupiter somewhere on board, and another brother named Sunny.”

  “How have I not seen all these cats on board? I only just met Luna last night.”

  “Sunny likes Officer Xiao better than anyone, so he’s probably in her quarters. Jupiter’s a rogue, so who knows where she is?”

  “Well,” I said, pressing my fingers to the bio-scan lockpad next to my door, “the Rochester certainly has a lot of mysteries.” Three cats, one inhuman laugh, and a possible saboteur, to name just a few. And now the captain. Young and odd and unpredictable.

  “That it does, Stella.” Hugo moved to open his own door. Luna stretched to standing and trotted merrily into his room. Traitor. “Have a good night.”

  “You too,” I said in return, but he was already gone, his chamber door sliding shut behind him.

  Chapter Nine

  The gentle chime of the alarm woke me, a welcome shift from the angry siren of the morning before.

  “Good morning, Stella,” Rori said as I roused. “You have unread messages. I did not wish to bother you yesterday but thought you would like to know.”

  “Thanks,” I said, getting out of bed and padding over to my desk tab. In the chaos of the previous day, I hadn’t even thought to check my messages, the first day in a week that I’d skipped writing to George. But the top message in my inbox wasn’t from him. It was from Karlson, of all people.

  Hey, Stella!

  Hope it’s okay that I’m writing to you. George said it would be fine, though even if he hadn’t, I would have messaged anyway.

  Engineering isn’t the same without you. They replaced you with a thirteen-year-old apprentice, another boy, so now it’s testosterone overload all the time. I lobbied for a girl, like you, but Jatinder called me a pervert. It’s his mind that went there, though, not mine.

  George says you’re living like a princess now, with tons of food and no water rations, and I’ll admit I’m more than a little jealous. I know you think I enjoy not showering, but it’s not true. I’m curious—​what kind of vegetables do you guys have out there? How do food deliveries work?

  Let me know how you’re doing.

  Jon

  The best way I could think to describe it was weird. That Karlson was writing to me; that he was so friendly and casual; his questions about food supply. How was I supposed to respond to that? So I didn’t, instead eagerly digesting George’s latest message.

  Dear Stella,

  You missed a movie last night that I think you would have liked. It was about a terrible nun who becomes a governess for this captain, though she has to care for seven children instead of just one, and there’s lots of singing. I didn’t really care for said singing, but Joy and Cassidy just loved it. Anyway, it made me think of you and how everything is going. You still like the kid you’re teaching, or is she annoying you yet? The kids have been driving me crazy—​Jefferson’s been especially insufferable since you left—​and honestly I’m kind of looking forward to turning eighteen and transferring full-time to the fields.

  Miss you,

  George

  Even though George hadn’t asked me how I was doing, I was itching to share my latest news, so I dove into a reply before breakfast.

  Dear George,

  That film does sound interesting, and I’m glad I don’t have to care for seven children. It’s been a relief just being Jessa’s teacher, as opposed to full-time caretaker. I know I mentioned to you that I thought it was really odd that her dad, the captain, stayed away for such long periods of time, and I couldn’t imagine why. Well, get this—​he’s not her dad; he’s her brother! And he’s not much older than we are. I think that rules out your Mari mistress theory. I still haven’t met her, by the way.

  He’s . . . interesting. I was expecting someone kind of terrible, to be honest, given what some of the crew had said. He spends months away from his ship, leaving his baby sister in the care of his employees. Plus, the luxuries on board are mind-blowing—​as soon as he arrived, meat was back on the menu. I had chicken for the first time in six years, and it was incredible. I guess I thought he’d be like my aunt Reed—​spoiled, selfish, and cold. But he was kind of nice to me. He’s lending me a book. Like, a real one. This place is weird.

  It’s also pretty creepy. I’ve been hearing things, and yesterday I had to fix a ship problem that I could swear was the result of deliberate tampering. I didn’t say anything, though, because they’ll probably think I’m paranoid and send me home if I do. Let’s just hope nothing else breaks and this was just a fluke.

  Miss you too,

  Stella

  At breakfast, I found real bacon.

  “This is the best thing I have ever tasted in my life,” I said, cramming two more slices into my mouth before anyone else could arrive to judge me. There was no risk with Lieutenant Poole, who had consumed no fewer than six slices in the last five minutes herself.
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  “Hmm,” she hummed while chewing. “Captain’s home, so the menu’s changed. Always better when he’s here.”

  “You don’t usually eat here for breakfast,” I said. “It’s nice to have a chance to talk to you.”

  Lieutenant Poole shrugged. “Considering the finer spread, I thought it would be opportune to dine in. I hear you repaired the airlock yesterday all on your own. Good job.”

  “Thanks,” I said, going a bit warm at her praise. She offered it more readily than Jatinder ever did. But it seemed she wasn’t done.

  “It’s lucky you are a quick study. Imagine if the captain had returned and the oxygen malfunction hadn’t been fixed. Or if someone turned off the warning alarm.”

  She knew. I didn’t know how, but she did. Lieutenant Poole didn’t seem upset; on the contrary, this seemed more like a test. But the captain had told me to keep things between us, so I did.

  “I had good teachers aboard the Stalwart,” I volleyed back. “And Rori helped supplement with ship manuals and troubleshooting guides.”

  Poole smiled, the first time I’d seen her do more than grimace. “Well, I am happy to have you on board. Have a good day.”

  She sidled off, a to-go plate of bacon in hand. I got the message loud and clear: I had kept the secret. Good job. Like ships passing in the night, a moment later Xiao appeared, though I noted she took no bacon. Come to think of it, she hadn’t had any chicken last night either. “No bacon for you?” I asked.

  “No, I prefer to remain vegetarian,” Xiao said. “The conditions aboard the meat ship EntenGEN are questionable at best, and I’d rather not spend my evening chained to the lavatory.” She took a seat next to me. “Besides, soon enough the captain will be gone again and meals will be back to normal. And how did your chat go last night?”

  “Well, I think.” I chose not to mention that I’d accused the captain of being a teenage father, after he’d insulted me. Twice. “We talked about books, mostly.”

  “Oh, that’s good. Nice, safe topic. Listen, Stella,” she said, sounding just a touch nervous, contrite. “I should have briefed you about the captain before he arrived, but yesterday everything came so fast, and I neglected to do so, and for that, I apologize.”

  “There’s no need to apologize, Officer Xiao,” I reassured her. “Everything went fine.”

  “Yes, that was fortuitous. You must have caught him in a good mood. But the captain has bad days too, and there are topics you should never broach. Such as his parents.”

  Was this a good time to tell her I had already done that very thing? Hugo hadn’t seemed that upset, though, so I kept quiet. It’s not like any of us liked talking about our dead parents, but maybe it was different because I’d asked him orphan-to-orphan.

  “Just remain professional, and circumspect,” Xiao continued, not missing a beat. “When in doubt, tell him how Jessa is doing. Because if there’s one constant about the captain, it’s that he loves his sister dearly.” She paused, checking her tab for the time. “Where is that girl? She’s never late for breakfast.” Xiao tried her comms, first attempting to hail Jessa, then asking Orion to run down to her quarters and look for her. The persistent frown on Xiao’s face told me Orion hadn’t been successful.

  “Do you want me to go find her?” I found myself volunteering.

  Xiao hesitated. “I suppose that could work.” She did not sound entirely convinced. “There’re only so many places she could be, at least.”

  With that vote of confidence, she sent me off with instructions to search the lower deck, new territory for me. A thrill ran down my spine as I stepped into an elevator and pressed the button for the lower level. The doors opened to near darkness. I stepped out into a hallway, blinking until my eyes adjusted to the dim. A chill skittered across my shoulders. It was colder down here as well.

  Xiao had said to check the old crew quarters, instructing me to head down and left, so left I went. A draft pushed against my back, a hollow whirring sound accompanying it; I hurried my pace so I could find Jessa quickly and get back up to the light and warmth. I kept my eyes focused on my feet, ignored the eerie sound in favor of the click of my heels on metal flooring.

  “Jessa?” I called out to a sea of closed doors on my left. Nothing.

  Then, under my boot, I caught a slick of black and nearly slipped. When I leaned closer and touched tentative fingertips to the liquid, I saw its true color: red. The metallic tang that hit my nose completed the equation. It was blood.

  “Jessa!” I called out again, this time more urgently. I walked faster, doing my best not to step in any more blood, and trying to shake away all the worst-case scenarios as they popped into my head. I came to a dead stop. There was something on the floor. I squinted down at it. It was a rat.

  “Bad kitty!”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin, the voice, singsongy yet cold, seeming to come out of nowhere. But then the woman it belonged to slunk out of the shadows, as did the cat she’d been scolding. She was petite but muscular, dressed in a stark white lab coat, and looked to be in her midtwenties. The cat I assumed to be Luna’s sister, Jupiter, trotted over to me, licking her chops and seeming to smile at the dead rat.

  “You must be the new governess,” the woman said, eyeing me up and down, her summary judgment reduced to the single quirk of an eyebrow.

  I swallowed hard and willed my voice not to wobble. “You must be Officer Hanada.”

  “My reputation precedes me.” She scooped up the rat carcass with her bare hands, its fur white, a bright blue number 119 branded on its side. The same blue coloring the tips of Hanada’s coal-black hair.

  She caught me looking at the number. “I like to keep track of my pets. They can be difficult to tell apart.”

  “You keep rats as pets?”

  “The cats don’t like me,” she said. “The rats are less picky.”

  I couldn’t tell whether she was joking.

  “What brings you down here? Governesses don’t belong below decks.”

  “I’m looking for Jessa. Xiao sent me.”

  “I thought I heard some high-pitched shrieking. Try the old crew quarters. Keep going down the hall. You can’t miss it.” She deposited the dead rat into a plastic bag with a cool smile. “Better find her quick. Don’t want to lose your charge in only week two.”

  “Are you keeping track of how long I’ve been here?” Another chill ran across my back, this one not strictly because of the temperature.

  She shrugged. “Just a little game I play. You’re already ahead. The record for shortest stay is twenty-four hours.”

  “And the longest?” I found myself asking, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.

  “Two years. -Ish. Don’t worry, I’m taking the long odds on you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The crew always takes bets on how long you guys will last. I’ve got you pegged at a year at least. But having met you, perhaps you’ll break the record.”

  She turned and sauntered down a hallway to our right that I hadn’t seen before. The dead rat had distracted me. I stepped with care over the bloody patch on the ground and continued on my way until the hallway widened. A communal bathroom on the right, disused but door wide open, signaled that I’d found the old crew quarters. There was light spilling out from a nook at the very end of the corridor, and I could hear Jessa shouting.

  “I’ve got a bogey on my left! Ready the missiles!”

  “Um, Jessa?” I caught her kneeling on top of a round table in an old mess hall, pointing at an imaginary sky.

  She was embarrassed for approximately ten seconds, then ordered me to join her. Captain Jessa needed a crew. First, I called Xiao on comms to let her know I’d found my charge. Talking to her, I couldn’t help but wonder—​what odds had she taken on how long I would stay? And why had all the previous governesses left?

  Maybe because they were no good at combat jargon. I found myself thoroughly schooled by Jessa, who cut no corners on authentic
ity in make-believe play.

  “No, Stella! When I give you an order, you say ‘Roger wilco,’” she scolded when I missed a beat.

  “Still an absolute taskmaster, I see.” Hugo appeared in the entranceway with arms crossed over a crisp waistcoat and a glance in my direction that made my cheeks burn. I scooted off the table, smoothing my skirt and checking my hair. Surreptitiously I applied some saliva to the curls that had sprung lose as I’d loaded a missile chute.

  “Don’t be mean, Hugo.” Jessa stuck out her tongue at him. “But I’m glad you found us. You can take over as First Officer. Sorry, Stella.”

  “No problem,” I said, offering a little salute. I was happy to be demoted, and made my way to the exit. Hugo had other ideas.

  “Where are you going? Jessa needs a full crew to stop the enemy force.”

  Blue eyes focused on me. Hugo wanted me to do something, and I found it easy to say yes.

  I caught his eyes on me many times more as we took part in Jessa’s role-play, Hugo mouthing to me the terms I was supposed to use and, more than once, simply laughing at my ineptitude. Except when I played the part of ship engineer. I did brilliantly at that. When Jessa tired of make-believe, she led the charge back to the mid-deck, Hugo and I trailing behind her.

  “There must have been a lot of crew before,” I said, indicating the doors as we passed them.

  Hugo shrugged. “Way back when, yeah. We haven’t been at full capacity since before I was born. My parents moved the crew to the mid-deck at least ten years ago. Except Mari.” He indicated a door on our left, labeled with a brushed-metal placard that said FIRST OFFICER. It took me a second to place the name. Hanada. The rat enthusiast.

  “But she’s not the First Officer,” I said.