Call of Worlds

by K. D. Lovgren

  “We’ll see. I observe.”

  “Do you really like Roan?”

  “I see the appeal, that’s all I’m saying.”

  Kal had a strange feeling she should offer Roan to Noor, which was uncalled for on a few levels. Roan wasn’t a thing to be offered or given. And she didn’t want to think about sharing him. Being possessive felt bad, too.

  She remembered her and Roan’s decision not to talk about previous connections to other people on their ships. For the first time she wondered if Roan had been shared before. It made her queasy.

  “Kal, he’s good-looking, that’s all. I’m not making anything of it.” Noor looked genuinely concerned, which meant Kal’s face had betrayed her as usual.

  She shook her head. “Sorry. It’s…I don’t know how to explain. I guess it’s having something, or someone, after being alone for a long time.”

  “I understand. I get it completely.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “I’m not good with this stuff, in general. Chyron’s here.” Noor had made a clear spot for herself, a circle of dirt free from roots, and was drawing patterns in it.

  “Of course. Yeah.”

  “I not saying you need it, but if you want it.” The strain of being empathetic to emotions showed plainly on Noor’s face.

  “Right. You don’t have to tiptoe around me, Noor. I’m really fine.” Kal demanding Noor see her as exactly the same when she’d just spilled her fears and agonies all over her was a contradiction Kal refused to dwell on.

  “I know you’re fine. I know you, remember? I would tell you if I thought there was something wrong. You’re okay.”

  “That’s good. Because you’ve been acting really weird.”

  They laughed together this time, Noor’s arm around Kal’s shoulder. She pushed her head against Kal’s. Resting forehead to forehead, they settled themselves with some of the human touch their lives had mostly lacked since they’d left Earth, even if it was only foreheads.

  19

  Carbon

  The day Kal spoke to Noor had been the day of Sif’s assessment team’s preparation. Today was the day it would happen.

  Kal wouldn’t be there—wouldn’t be able to see for herself what was going on. What Sif was like now. Was she even still alive?

  Of course she was. The Carys wouldn’t let her die.

  The other captains had been briefed on the assessment team’s plans. Only Kal had been missing.

  Even after what Noor said, had almost convinced her of, Kal was still afraid to be near Roan. What if she sparked again? All Noor’s careful reassurance would have been for nothing. She would be convinced again Rai was inside her. She wanted so much for it not to be true she thought she’d break apart of there were any more evidence it was.

  If it were true, and Noor could figure out how to exorcise the Carys from Sif, she could do the same for Kal. Nobody else ever needed to know. Noor could help Roan, too.

  Kal thought of the quarantine room, and the brig. What it would be like to be in one of them, alone like Sif had been. The fate she’d been grimly happy to consign to Sif, her own.

  Noor said it wasn’t true. She had to believe her.

  Kal avoided Roan all day as she had the day before. He didn’t seek her out either. Whether from sensitivity to her attitude or fears of his own, she couldn’t tell, but she was grateful.

  After fidgeting all over the biohab and half the camp, Kal dragged herself back inside for lunch and guilted Crenshaw into reading Chance Talon at the freakish time of midday. He took pity on her wild eyes, probably, but she didn’t care. Once he began reading, her whole being settled down, just as she thought it would.

  The captain shuddered with the blast of the consecrator zapping through her. Chance had never used the consecrator before, except the one time she tried to forget.

  The captain’s cries and groans stopped. The giant storage room was silent. No whispers, no crackling of the silos heating up, no shrieks of surprise and pain. It was only Chance and Captain Regis. The other mysterious figure was gone, escaped back to their disguise as crew.

  Chance crawled up from Captain Regis’s feet to her head. The captain’s mouth lolled open, her eyelids almost closed. She would be conscious. The consecrator didn’t deprive her of awareness, only the ability to act. And the ability to lie.

  The soles of Chance’s feet were on fire again; now the adrenalin seeped away. She struggled with her tiny med kit strapped to her thigh until she got the pain patches out. Slapping one on her chest, she felt the medicine creep through her body, eddying down to her feet with a reprieve both agonizing and delicious. Her head lay on its side, facing Captain Regis. Captain Regis was in pain, though she couldn’t move or even speak until the shock from the consecrator wore off a little.

  “Why?” Chance said, a mere foot from the captain’s face, on a level with her own. “Why would you do it?”

  Trying to speak, the captain made a gurgling sound. A thin edge of franticness was all Chance could decipher. “I trusted you with my life.”

  The captain hissed, still trying to make a word. Her eyes were full of pain.

  Chance peeled away another pain patch, held it in front of the captain’s eyes. “You want this?”

  Drool seeped out of the side of the captain’s mouth closest to the floor.

  “It would take it all away. From you. Not from the rest of us. Not from Smithson. Nothing can help Smithson now.”

  The captain’s face seemed to melt, liquids draining from nose, mouth, and eyes.

  Chance got closer. She whispered, “I don’t believe you,” and placed the patch in the center of Captain Regis’s forehead.

  The hiss of the biohab door shocked Kal so much she jerked involuntarily. Crenshaw looked up from his book, calm as usual. The team were back.

  Kal twisted around on her flopper. They were all looking at her: Noor, Flicker, Chyron, Cooley. And Sasha.

  Kal heard the sound of Crenshaw closing his book. She stumbled to her feet.

  “Captain Black Bear,” Cooley said. “Come with us.”

  Some of them led the way, some followed behind. People behind, people in front. It was almost as if she were being detained.

  They marched on to another one of the structures Kal hadn’t been inside. This one was larger than the cozy captain’s room. It had a wide, dark table inside, with chairs all around. Cooley pulled out a chair for Kal. Kal sat.

  The same puffed out fiber walls, white airy interior as the biohab. The table was oblong and made of a dark gray matte material. A person could have lain on it, arms outspread, with room to spare.

  There were thin, deep lines running through the table, as if it were more than just a table. Kal frowned.

  Sweat ran down her sides inside her suit. She had started wearing her captain’s jumpsuit, as Sasha and Cooley did, to stay on the level they’d placed her, in everyone else’s eyes as well as theirs. It was important to dress the part, if the two other captains were any example. Even here, on Demeter.

  When everyone was seated, Cooley spoke. “Captain Black Bear, it’s come to our attention that you may have been compromised during your time aboard the Ocean.”

  Kal gulped, putting her hand to her neck to hide its movement. Her mouth opened, but she decided not to say anything, and closed it.

  “Do you know what I mean?”

  “Please explain,” Kal said.

  “We believe your AI Rai has made a similar encroachment on your mind as the Carys did to Sif. Are you aware of any such activity?”

  Ice cold now, sick in her gut, Kal tried to keep her composure. “Why do you think so?”

  “All I’ll say now is we have reason to believe it.”

  Sweeping the faces at the table, scanning for allies, Kal held on to the arms of her chair, squeezing them until her fingers ached. Her eyes swept past Noor, then traced back. Noor’s face was expressionless. Was it Noor? Had she told them? It didn’t make s
ense. Noor didn’t believe it was true. Noor had told her it wasn’t possible.

  “Is this…is this what you all think?”

  Cooley sniffed and pushed her elbows forward on the table, leaning in toward Kal as she had once before. That time it had been to praise Kal. “I’m afraid so.”

  “It’s not possible,” Kal said. It came out a whisper.

  “It may be that in this case, Rai was able to infiltrate your mind without your knowledge. It would explain some recent circumstances involving yourself and Crew Chief Morra.”

  Kal tried to clear her throat. Her vocal cords felt thick and coated.

  “This is how we will proceed. You’ll be placed in temporary containment for your own safety.” Cooley smiled, or rather grimaced. “We won’t inform you of any further steps, but be assured we have your future and ultimate well-being in mind. You’re going to need to trust us now. All will be well.”

  Kal’s lips were trembling. She compressed them, trying to stop it, this visible sign of fear and weakness.

  Flicker had risen and moved to stand behind Kal while Cooley spoke. Kal felt a cool hand on her neck. A wave of dizziness made the room tilt, the watching eyes sliding up and out of her sight.

  When she woke, she didn’t open her eyes. Instead, she tried to feel with her body. She feigned sleep. They were all probably watching her. Was she on the table? Spread out like a sacrifice?

  Trying to keep her breathing as steady and even as if she were asleep was very difficult. Her breath kept hitching as she tried to get more air.

  She must think.

  There was no movement of air on her skin. The temperature was warmer than it had been in the meeting room. She didn’t feel any constrictions or restraints on her body. She probably wasn’t in the room anymore. She wasn’t fastened to the table.

  Her mouth and throat were dry. Thirst made her anxious.

  While she lay here in the darkness created by her eyelids, she probed her own thoughts. Rai? she asked. Are you there? Now she went looking for the sparks, the electricity telling her she wasn’t herself, wasn’t entirely alone. If they were right, she wanted to know.

  Dammit, Rai. If you’re here, tell me.

  Nothing.

  How awful would it be if they’d imprisoned her and it wasn’t even true?

  Fuck it.

  She opened her eyes.

  Sat up easily. Nothing was wrong with her body, at least.

  She was in a room. A soft-looking room, dim and glowing. A pinkish-apricot haze of light came from no obvious source. Looking around, Kal tried to take it all in. It was like a cave, but light, made of a rock-like material that was almost crystalline. The color of the rock itself was that pinkish hue. The light came from the walls, the floor, everywhere.

  For some reason, she looked up. The ceiling looked familiar. Kal looked down. She was seated on a ledge, a human-sized shelf jutting into the room. When she ran her hand over the surface of it, the very nerve-endings of her hand were confused. Lying on it, it hadn’t felt hard or uncomfortable. To her hand it felt hard and soft at the same time. She brushed the back of her hand over it. To the back of her hand it felt hard. She leaned down and put her cheek against it. It felt soft. She sat up again.

  The all-over glow made it difficult to gauge the size of the room. She stood up, swaying a little as blood rushed away from her head. Her feet were bare. She held out her arms and looked at herself. She wasn’t in her captain’s jumpsuit anymore. That seemed bad.

  She was dressed in a stretchy knit fabric, a top and a bottom, rough and smooth. Like the ledge was soft and hard. The color was the same blush as the room. If she scrunched in her head, hands, and feet, she could have camouflaged herself against the ledge. Just a lump in an apricot room. She stepped forward, reaching her arms out in case there were things she couldn’t see. Her foot hit another outcropping of whatever this substance was. It bloomed up into a toadstool-shaped chair. Next to it was an outcropping like a round table, sized for one person. The room wasn’t as large as it looked. Maybe three and a half meters long, three meters wide. She felt her way around the walls, touching everything she could. That was how she found the connecting room.

  An arched doorway without a door faced a wall of the pinkish crystal. It gave the optical illusion there was no door. When she stepped through the archway, she saw the wall inside made a small hallway with openings on both sides. Eyebrows raised, ears pricked, she poked her head slowly around one side of the wall to see what was in the other room.

  When she saw a glimpse, she pulled back. In the hallway she tried to repress her panic. Her feeling of dread and hopelessness.

  She had seen a physio.

  There was only one reason for the other room to have a physio.

  To keep her in shape.

  Because she would be here a long, long time.

  She went back to the ledge and sat down.

  She didn’t want to explore the other room, which was not made of crystal, or pink rubyglass, or whatever the hell this was all around her. There would be time enough to discover the meager secrets of the other room.

  They had locked her away.

  There wouldn’t be any way to get out.

  She was stuck here.

  And unlike Sif, she really was alone. Without even an AI for company.

  20

  Crystal

  She tried not to cry. And succeeded, if not sobbing or betraying any emotion other than saltwater dripping down her face from her tear ducts counted as not crying. If only Priscilla were here. Her aunt, to keep her company. If Rai really were in her head, Kal would have Priscilla, probably. Maybe she’d still be able to talk to Priscilla’s echo, if Rai were in her head.

  But she wasn’t.

  The injustice of it all left her empty.

  Now at least she was convinced. Rai wasn’t with her.

  After a long time, she trudged into the other room. It looked like a room on the ship. Carbon walls and gray nothing. A big honking physio took up a good portion of the space, smaller than the grand one Kal had used on the Ocean, but clearly functional. This room was larger than the other, with a circular loop along its outer edges clearly meant for walking in a hopeless circle.

  A drinks dispenser. A foods dispenser. A fabrics sterilizer. Another bed, this one a small bunk made up like a regular bed in a cabin. A holo generator, even. So she could be interrogated in safety, Kal figured, by people not in the room.

  Maybe she could convince them, eventually.

  The thought of trying to brought more drops of self-pity, but she wiped them away.

  She hated them all.

  This was where saving the Ocean had led her. This was her thanks. Her reward. One council meeting as an equal, and this. Of course.

  Maybe she had an enemy. Maybe it was all retribution. She couldn’t imagine for what.

  It didn’t make sense for Noor to have ratted Kal’s fears. Noor didn’t believe it. Noor had stood by and let it happen, though. Noor hadn’t tried to stop them.

  Noor could have made them see, if anyone could. She hadn’t even tried.

  Something, someone had convinced her.

  Unless…Kal remembered what Noor had said about Roan. Noor hadn’t ever liked anyone, as far as Kal knew. Would she go to these lengths because she’d found someone she’d liked, was attracted to, in a pool of so few?

  Kal shook her head. Whatever she might think of Noor’s silence, she knew her well enough to dismiss such a motive. Noor had always wanted Kal to be well, to be happy, in her own non-demonstrative way. She wouldn’t begrudge her Roan. If she had wanted to approach him, she would have asked Kal and been open about it, not try to lock her up.

  She had some other motive to lock Kal up. The same motive they all had, which they hadn’t shared with Kal.

  If they thought Kal was sharing brain cells with Rai, they were reasonable to hide their sources and plans.

  Perfectly reasonable.

  Their logic was flawless.


  Based on a fallacy.

  The days passed. Kal had no way of knowing the time, so she slept and woke to her own pattern. The crystal room, as she’d come to think of it, and the gray room were her whole world.

  She’d remembered why the ceiling looked familiar. It was like the room on the Ocean where Rai had sent her to get back her equilibrium. Once she thought of that, she licked the wall. It tasted of salt. Kal supposed this was meant to keep her mood regulated.

  The ledge was preferable to the bunk, for sleeping. She didn’t know why, except the crystal room was more alien and felt more like home, now she was an outcast and a prisoner.

  After the third sleep she got on the physio. She already felt weaker from lack of exercise, so even though she hated the presence of the physio and all it implied, she used it.

  Whirling around on her own private physio was surprisingly cathartic. After the first session, she felt much better. And it gave her an idea she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of before.

  The only conversing she’d tried to do with Rai had been in her own head. Not once had she tried to communicate with Rai aloud.

  “Rai,” she said, her voice raspy from disuse. “Captain Black Bear, reporting.”

  There was no answer.

  “It’s me, Kal. Are you there, Rai?”

  Being on the Ocean without an AI to respond was one of the creepiest feelings Kal had ever had. Maybe she was cut off. Inside a kind of Tube, with no comm in or out. Of course. They thought she had Rai with her all the time. They wouldn’t want the Rai in her head and Rai the ship to make decisions or tell the ship what to do. She would be able to release herself from these rooms, for one. She could fly the ship away. She’d proved before she could do it alone.

  In fact, being on the Ocean at all wouldn’t make sense, if they thought Kal was part Rai.