Firmament: Machiavellian

by J. Grace Pennington

  I touched his arm and interrupted him. “Dad?”

  He looked at me, eyebrows raised.

  “I was just thinking—do you think that a lack of oxygen in his room could have done this?”

  For a moment he just kept looking at me. Then, “Is that possible?”

  I thought for a second. “I’m pretty sure the life support can be adjusted room by room.”

  He looked down at August, then back up at the monitor, which showed his pulse and blood pressure to be almost normal. “I suppose… that could explain it.”

  “But Doctor—”

  “Trent’s all in a tizzy trying to find someone to replace him,” he said. “I don’t think he wants to hear any theories right now.”

  He bent to examine August again, and my mind raced through the possibilities. Why would anyone do this? I could fathom why someone would want Unkrich out of the way, but August?

  The beeping of the EKG went on, mixed with the humdrum buzzing of the oxygen machine and the slight, hollow puffs of August’s breaths into the mask over his mouth and nose.

  The Doctor stood up straight. “There’s definitely a lack of oxygen,” he began, but at that moment, August’s eyes fluttered open.

  “August?” I murmured, walking towards him.

  He blinked, breathed a bit heavier, and tried to turn his head.

  “Don’t move,” I instructed, laying a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right; the Doctor’s taking care of you.”

  “We can remove the oxygen now,” the Doctor said. He started working the machine, and then gave me the nod to disconnect the tubes.

  When I’d taken them away, August blinked again and turned his wide brown eyes on me. “What—” he began, then stopped. I waited, stealing a glance at the Doctor, who was frowning.

  He began again, speaking slowly. “What happened? I remember… waking up... I felt like I couldn’t breathe… I tried to call you…”

  “I heard,” I said, feeling the tremble in my voice, but not hearing it. “You were in shock, but I found you in time. You’re all right now.”

  He looked down at his right hand and slowly moved his fingers, one at a time. “What time is it?” he asked.

  I looked at my wristcom, but the Doctor interjected. “That doesn’t matter, boy. What matters is you’re in no shape to go to work. Trent may not like it, but those are my orders—you’re staying here for at least today, maybe longer, until we know for sure what happened.”

  “You mean…” he spoke slowly still, as though he were too tired to move his lips. “It wasn’t my blood pressure?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  He blinked again, and closed his eyes. “That’s strange…”

  The Doctor stepped closer to me and leaned close to whisper. “I want him under twenty-four hour surveillance. We also need to get his life support checked—”

  A voice spoke from the intercom across the room.

  “Commander Guilders, Lieutenant Commander Whales, Lieutenant Howitz, Commander McMillan, Doctor Lloyd, officer Andi Lloyd, Captain Felix Holloway, and Doctor Pearson, please report to the briefing room immediately.”

  I glanced at my wristcom as the names were listed, and saw to my surprise that it was already seven o’ clock. When the voice stopped, I looked at the Doctor and he frowned, probably thinking the same thing I was. That was the same group of people who had been part of the meeting where Napoleon had made his proposal.

  “August’s not going,” was all he said aloud. “I’ll explain to Trent.”

  I turned back to August for a moment. His eyes remained closed, but his skin and breathing seemed normal, and the levels on the monitor were stable. His blood pressure had even gone back to being on the low side. “Should I get Olive to watch him?”

  The Doctor looked at me silently, and I bit my lip. He wouldn’t have me disobey the Captain’s orders and stay behind, would he?

  At last he said, “All right. You can call her.”

  He walked out of sickbay and I used my wristcom to notify Olive that she needed to look after August while we were in the briefing. Then I hurried out, curiosity and hope making my heart beat faster than normal.

  When I reached the briefing room, the other officers were already present, seated at the long table with the Captain at the far end. All heads turned to look at me as I walked through the door, and my cheeks flushed.

  The Doctor was closest to me, and I hurried a few steps into the room and slid into a seat next to him.

  Only then did I notice that Lee was also in the room, seated between the Captain and Napoleon. He sat back, leaning against his chair’s headrest, eyes fixed on some point on the table. Had Napoleon brought him along?

  Next to Napoleon, Doctor Pearson was folded into his chair looking like a blue and blond spider. After him were Whales, stiff-postured and serious, and McMillan, tapping his fingers on the metal table. On the Captain’s other side sat Guilders, leaning his elbows on the table and frowning. Next to him were the Doctor and I.

  The Captain cleared his throat, stood up, and began to speak. “You all remember the proposal that Captain Holloway made to us recently?”

  My heart pattered faster, even though they were almost the exact words I had expected to hear. Everyone except Napoleon nodded, and McMillan and Whales murmured “Yes sir.”

  The Captain glanced at Guilders as he began speaking again. “After due consideration, I have decided that we will in fact be accepting his proposal to retrieve the element and transport it back to Earth for further testing.”

  Chapter XII

  No one replied to the Captain’s decided announcement. My lips parted involuntarily, and a muted heat washed over me. It wasn’t what I’d been expecting, but I had the feeling that I should have seen it coming.

  A quick glance at Guilders showed me that the Captain hadn’t consulted with the older man about the decision. His face wouldn’t have looked surprised to a stranger, but I, who had known him so long, could read the slight furrow of his bushy, white eyebrows and the extra stiffness of his shoulders to see that he was startled, and even hurt.

  I looked back at the Captain as he began to speak again. “I know that some of you are against this proposition. But Whales and I have looked at the probabilities and it seems to be worth a try. We all know our purpose on this vessel—to discover, explore, document. This opportunity is unprecedented in the history of space exploration. It gives us not only the chance to befriend the inhabitants of Kainus Ge, but the tools to help and ally with any other races we may come upon in the future.”

  For two seconds, everything was silent. McMillan continued tapping his fingers, eyes fixed on the Captain. Guilders didn’t move, and Whales remained business-like, as usual.

  The Doctor, however, didn’t keep quiet for long.

  “What about the laws against going into the galactic center?”

  I realized then that this was the first time it had been said out loud.

  “I haven’t made this decision lightly, Gerry…” the Captain began, but Guilders cut him off.

  “And what will you do when ISA finds out? You could lose your license for this, Trent.”

  “They won’t find out until we get back,” he explained. “And by then, we’ll be safe and able to show the value of the substance. It will no longer be an issue.”

  “Have you thought of asking permission?” Guilders asked.

  I squirmed, remembering his statement to me. “Sometimes it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission…”

  The Captain shook his head. “You know all the red tape that would bring about. I don’t want to leave those people back on that planet…”—he jerked his thumb over his shoulder as if Kainus Ge were behind us—“…to die of heatstroke and starvation for another few years while the matter gets dragged out in the court of some bureaucrat who’s never seen what we’ve seen. You weren’t there, Guilders. You don’t know what it’s like.”

  “It doesn’t matter what it’
s like.”

  I turned in the direction of the new voice. It was Lee. He had leaned forward for the first time, and his cheekbones were defined by the tightness of his jaw.

  “Harrison, it doesn’t matter what it’s like,” he repeated, “not if it’s wrong.”

  The Captain didn’t move at first. He kept his face towards the Doctor, but his eyes no longer focused. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths, then he turned slowly towards his brother, eyes blazing in a restrained way that made it frightening.

  “Did I ask your opinion?”

  “No,” Lee said, without backing down. “Nor did you when you left.”

  The Captain glared at his brother for a full ten seconds. It was a hard glare, a look I’d never seen on his face in the eleven years I’d known him. “And are you going to back down on this decision too?” he asked, the hardness of his voice breaking the silence like a slap in the face.

  Napoleon winced visibly. “Chaplain, if I may…”

  “That wasn’t the same and you know it!” Lee cried, standing up. “If she’d died before you’d left I never would have said a word! You know it’s not the same!”

  “What makes it different?” The Captain seemed to have forgotten the presence of the rest of us. “My going to space was such an issue, it was so wrong, it was so unforgivable, and somehow when you want to come it’s different! It is the same! You know it’s the same!”

  “I never said you were unforgiven, Harrison,” Lee said, more quiet than his brother but almost as hard. “Neither did she. But if you could have seen the way she wasted away without you there, seen the way I had to struggle to…”

  The Captain took a step towards Lee, anger in his eyes. “If I’d been there, she never would have died, you son of a…”

  “Trent.”

  It was the Doctor’s voice, harder than either of the brothers, spoken as he slapped his palms on the silver table and pushed himself to his feet. “Enough.”

  Silence dropped over the room. I sank back into my chair as far as I dared, and everyone else seemed to be competing to see who could avoid eye contact the longest.

  The silence continued so long I was frightened, and the heat that had filled me turned to a chill that left goosebumps on my skin.

  Guilders rose from his seat slowly. “No.”

  Another silence, in which I sunk even further into my chair and the Captain turned slowly to face his first officer. “What?”

  “No,” Guilders repeated, not changing his expression. “I won’t do it.”

  The Captain spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “You won’t what?”

  “I won’t take this ship into the galactic center.”

  The whirring of the engines seemed loud in the oppressive silence that followed. I couldn’t sink any further into the chair, and I wished I dared disappear below the table. I would curl up in a little ball in the cool shadows.

  The Captain tightened his lips. “Is this mutiny, Commander Guilders?”

  “No sir. It’s a resignation.”

  The Captain stared. I stared, everyone stared. The engines droned softly behind the walls of the room. The air circulation glitched, causing a silent beat in the consistent buzz.

  “Mr. Guilders, you’ve been the Surveyor’s helmsman for over twenty years,” the Captain said.

  “I’m aware of that, Captain.”

  “And you’re telling me that you will not man the helm on a journey to the galactic center?”

  “That is correct.”

  Guilders stood straight and tall, his bushy white eyebrows not moving a millimeter.

  “Very well,” said the Captain. He turned to Captain Holloway. “I will have to find a replacement, since my navigator is down as well.”

  Guilders sat down and folded his hands as if nothing had happened. I wanted to cry, wanted to reach out and touch his arm, anything to release the emotion that struggled inside me. But I couldn’t. I had to sit and be a professional part of the crew.

  I stole a glance at the Doctor and saw that he was frowning again. But he said nothing.

  “I understand that you may not want to put your ship in the hands of an outsider, Captain,” Napoleon began, speaking as pleasantly and effortlessly as if the palpable tension didn’t hang over the room. “However, I can offer my pilot’s services as helmsman for the time being. I would be pleased to be of service, very pleased.”

  The Captain looked at him, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it for a moment, then spoke. “Thank you. I’ll consider it.”

  He turned back down the table to speak with the rest of us. “We are on a limited schedule with this mission. ISA and the owner are willing to give us some flexibility because of our detour in delivering these people to Earth, but not much. They can’t track us right now, but if we are gone for too long, they’re going to start asking questions. We need to get there as soon as possible.”

  I licked my lips, which had become very dry.

  “Is the meeting adjourned, then?” the Doctor asked, in the coldest of tones.

  “Yes,” the Captain replied sharply. “You are all dismissed, except for Mr. Whales, Doctor Pearson, and Captain Holloway.”

  Napoleon smiled, showing his straight white teeth. “Just Holloway, please.”

  I stood up a little too quickly, anxious to be out of the oppressive tension. Guilders exited the room just before me, expression and posture still unchanged.

  When we were in the halls, I reached out to him. “Guilders…”

  He turned and turned the corners of his lips up ever so slightly, then waited for me to speak.

  I didn’t know what I wanted to say. “Guilders… I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” His smile faded, but his expression showed no sorrow, or any other emotion for that matter. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “But Guilders, why?”

  “It’s against the law,” he stated simply. “When I joined here, I swore to abide by the laws and policies of the International Space Administration, and that takes precedence over the orders of my Captain,” he lowered his voice, “and even the wishes of my friend.”

  I’d rarely heard Guilders say so much at once, and I watched, dumbfounded, as he gave that hint of a smile again, and turned to walk down the hall towards the elevator.

  I turned the other direction towards sickbay, my heart heavy, but with a nagging excitement in my mind. What was so dangerous about the galactic center? It was possible for a ship to survive there, with careful piloting and navigation. Wasn’t the betterment of Kainus Ge worth the risk?

  But I kept hearing Guilders’ voice in my mind. “I swore to abide by the laws and policies of the International Space Administration, and that takes precedence over the orders of my Captain… and even the wishes of my friend.”

  Guilders didn’t make decisions lightly. Especially not drastic ones. And he had been the ship’s helmsman since its maiden voyage, making him the longest-serving primary crewman aboard.

  At least, until a moment ago.

  Weighted down by the battle between my thoughts and my emotions, I went to check on my brother.

  Chapter XIII

  When I reached sickbay, Olive was bustling around quietly, straightening cabinets and checking wasteboxes. When she saw me, she smiled and put a finger to her lips. “Shhh,” she whispered. “He’s been sleeping almost since you left. His levels are good, and he needs rest.”

  I smiled, but the smile remained confined to my lips and didn’t spread to my eyes. “Thanks,” I whispered back. “I’ll take it from here.”

  With a nod of her pretty head, she left me in the silent, nearly-empty room.

  I wondered why the Doctor hadn’t followed me. More likely than not, he was back in that briefing room giving the Captain and Napoleon a piece of his mind. I didn’t want to hear that.

  Shouldn’t we obey the Captain? But Guilders, of all people, didn’t take authority lightly.

  With a guttural sigh, I threw myself onto one of
the cots and stared at the white ceiling.

  I mentally replayed the conversation between the Captain and Lee. Who was “she”?

  They’d talked about the Captain leaving “her.” They’d argued about each other going to space. Was “she” their mother? Had the Captain abandoned her to go to space?

  If that was true, the rest of the conversation seemed to indicate that Lee had waited until she had died—until she had no longer needed him—to come to space.

  It clicked suddenly, like puzzle pieces snapping together.

  The end justifies the means.

  Space exploration was good. Important. The Captain must have decided the opportunity he had to engage in the field was more important than staying on Earth to care for his aged mother. And Lee had disagreed.

  Was the desire to prove Lee wrong part of his motivation for accepting the mission? Not consciously, but in the back of his mind. Providing the extra push to get him over the last nagging doubts raised by his best friends.

  The question was, did Lee feel the same resentment towards the Captain?

  “How is he?”

  I sat up when I heard the Doctor’s voice nearby. He stood halfway between me and the door, looking at me, his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat.

  I looked towards August. “Better. Back to normal levels.”

  He shook his head and walked towards me, an absent expression in his gray eyes. Sitting down on the cot across from me, he stared at the wall, hands still in his pockets.

  I cleared my throat, but he didn’t respond. The whir and beeping of August’s monitor filled the room and made me conscious of the beating of my heart, which still hadn’t quite slowed to its normal pace.

  I coughed, then spoke. “Did you lecture them?”

  His eyes focused on me. “I tried talking some sense into Trent, if that’s what you mean.”

  I felt the mild annoyance rise in my chest again, though I tried not to let it show in my tones. “Do you think Guilders is right?”

  “Yes I do,” he said decidedly. “I’m sorry my own station doesn’t give me the opportunity to make such a stand.”