Forever Series 4: The Forever Quest

by Craig Robertson

  “Karnean,” Kayla said in protest, “you can’t be serious.”

  “I’m captain of this ship, and my orders will be obeyed.”

  “Dust levels inside sealed panels?” She was incredulous.

  He turned to me with a hateful look on his face. “I can still see you. That’s not a good thing.”

  If the odd dynamics between the three of us had remained at the annoying but cute level, the remaining voyage would have been tolerable. But recalling that I worked for a morally bankrupt control freak, such normalcy was too much to hope for.

  Maybe a year later, Kayla and I started developing feelings for one another. Me first, as usual, but I could tell she considered me to be more than just a friend. At mealtime, if I was there first, she’d kick her chair over to be right next to me before she sat down. If we passed in the corridors, she’d touch my arm or pat me on the back. Those might seem like minor issues, but this was the ice princess I’m talking about. Trust me, her behavior toward me was radically different than that she displayed toward anyone else, including her brother.

  One day after finishing my watch, I entered my room to pretend to sleep. The room was completely dark, but that didn’t matter to me. Not only did I have my night vision, but I’d memorized where everything was in the room. I walked toward the head to pretend to use it, but I tripped over something that shouldn’t have been where it was. I hit the lights and found I’d clipped a chair leg. Someone had searched my room. They put the chair back almost where it had been, but not quite in the same spot. Breaking into the chief engineer’s room was not easy. My security level was as high as anyone’s. I checked and found nothing missing, including some cash I’d won in a game of chance a few days earlier that I’d left in plain sight. Whoever broke in was looking for information of evidence, not valuables. Fontelpo was long dead. No one else had a reason to rifle my room for such a bizarre reason. No one except the captain, that was. He left no physical evidence it was him. Any pertinent security camera was offline during the time of the entry, again suggesting it was Karnean, since scrubbing holo records was tough to do without proper clearance.

  I didn’t mention the break in to anyone, even Kayla. If she confronted her brother, things could blow up quickly. I did set up a hidden camera system of my own, however. Hey, I was the engineer. I could do that in my sleep. I never caught him in my room with the cameras. That I did in person, a month or so after the first incident. I followed my usual pattern of walking around in the dark. It only took a second for me to pick up someone’s heartbeat in the room. The pace was kind of fast, suggesting the intruder was tense.

  After I’d walked a few steps, I triangulated my visitor sitting in a chair. Odd. Why relax while invading someone’s private space? I hit the lights. There sat Karnean, legs crossed, arms draped lazily over the armrests. The look on his face was passive, like he was waiting for a bus.

  “Hello, Jon,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Hello, intruder. Fancy meeting you here where you have no business being.”

  “You’d prefer it was my sister hiding in wait for you in your room?”

  “That’s none of your business. Captain or not.”

  “A sound piece of advice. Please allow me to determine what is and is not my business on my ship. All right? This,” he pointed all around, “is my property. You,” he pointed to me, “are my property. I do with what is mine however I see fit.”

  I elected to hold on the snark and bravado, difficult as that was for me. This guy was c-r-a-z-y nuts. “You’re off-limits. You know that as well as I do. But, more to the point, what are you doing here?”

  “I came to deliver a message.”

  “Because you don’t see me enough every single day so you feel the need to skulk in the darkness of my quarters to deliver it?”

  “You push my limits too hard, my friend. I’m neither a kind nor forgiving man. The line in the sand you are toeing is a very dangerous one.”

  “That’s the message?”

  He glared at me hard. I think he was deciding if he would kill me there and then. Well, at least he thought he might. I was beginning to welcome the thought of wringing his pencil neck.

  Finally, he eased back in my chair. “No. I came to give you the one warning you will get. Leave my sister alone. She is off-limits.”

  “Did she send you to tell me this? No, wait, she’s a big girl. If she wanted to say that, she’d have done it herself. Let me rephrase. Does she even know you’re here?”

  “That is beside the point. You will avoid all non-essential contact with her. End of story.”

  “No problem. Please note my definition of essential is probably wildly different that yours.”

  “One more cute remark and I’ll have your tongue.”

  “Look, I saved your ship not once, but twice. I have this bucket of bolts running better than it ever has despite serious sabotage. I think that buys me a bit more discretion from my grateful captain.”

  “In all professional matters, you have my full discretion. When it comes to Kayla, you have zero.”

  “Why don’t you let her decide how she leads her own life?”

  “Out of the question. Jon, this is not a discussion. And it is your only warning.”

  I made no reply. I wasn’t going to agree to his demands, but mouthing off wouldn’t help either.

  He rose and walked to the door. “Oh, a word of advice. Don’t mention this conversation to her. If you do, you will find out precisely what happened to Fontelpo.”

  It didn’t take Kayla long to figure out I was acting much cooler toward her. Within a week, she said to me at dinner, “So, Karnean warned you to stay away from his sister, did he?”

  “Huh?” I said through a mouthful of stew.

  “You wouldn’t be the first, and you won’t be the last.” She ripped at a piece of bread, looking away thoughtfully. “He just disappears the enlisted men. They’re easy for him. But when I so much as say bless you to an officer who sneezes, he goes all psycho.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Oh, and I know he told you he’d kill you if you revealed your secret. He always does.”

  “Does what? Tells the officers or kills them?”

  “Very funny.”

  “I wasn’t actually angling for funny, just survival.”

  “A few have mentioned it to me after they left Desolation’s service. I don’t think he’s needed to kill any yet.”

  “Gee, maybe I’ll be the first. A man’s gotta leave a legacy.”

  She sighed. “No, Jon, you won’t. You and I will return to a strictly professional relationship, and I’ll add one more grievance to my list against my brother. That’s how it always goes.”

  “It hasn’t gone there with me.”

  “It will. I’ll see to it. Look, I like you. The last thing I want if for either of you to end up dead.”

  “Why do you put up with him? I know he’s your brother, but you’re good. You could command your own ship. Why put up with his abuse?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.” Her voice was distant.

  “I might surprise you.”

  “I made a promise to our father to look after him, that’s why.”

  “He’s a good pilot. He has his own ship. He doesn’t need you.”

  “He does. Not to fly from point A to point B. He needs me to stop him from self-destruction. I cite this very scenario as an example.”

  “I say let him fall on his face if that’s his passionate wish.”

  She was quiet a moment. “I made a promise. My father knew his son was too hot-headed to survive without me around to bridle him now and again.”

  “At the sacrifice of your own happiness, your own life? That’s a lot to ask.”

  “Yes, it is. But I swore an oath.” She shrugged. “My life isn’t that bad.”

  “No. How could it be? You get to fly impossibly long, dangerous missions with your psycho brothe,r knowing you’ll never be able to get close to
another living soul. Where do I sign up?”

  “Mocking me doesn’t actually help.”

  “What would? I’ll do it.”

  She sniffed loudly. “Returning to your job and doing it well. That, Chief Engineer Ryan is all I require of you.”

  “It’s your funeral. Who you hand the shovel to is your call.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a hopeless romantic?” She smiled sadly.

  “No, I don’t believe anyone ever has.”

  “Good, because she’d have been a fool or a liar if she had.”

  “You’re awfully narrow-minded. What about all my male admirers?”

  She giggled. “If any man expressed feelings for you, you’d run screaming from the room.”

  I pointed to her with my little finger. “Hey, I didn’t see you in that bar back on Balmorulam. What were you doing there?”

  ELEVEN

  Two boring, companionless years later, we arrived at Pallolo. Looking out a porthole, I hated it already. I was just two years into a pissy-ass mood and hated everything. I had to remind myself that every time I saw, heard, or thought about Kayla or her evil brother that I was on a mission to save the worldship fleet. Not that I’d have been on Desolation if that wasn’t the case. But if I had sailed on her for some other unknowable reason, I’d have killed that loco Karnean on general principle long ago.

  After such an epic voyage, shore leave was mandatory for the entire crew, even the shanghaied ones. Karnean set out a leave roster. About a third of the crew was released at a time. Each party was given two days leave. We didn’t know how long we’d be in port, but if time allowed, the rotations would continue so everyone would get several turns. People like me, with a high likelihood of flight, were fitted with an explosive ankle bracelet timed to go off in three days. If we tried to skip out on Karnean, we’d be blown to bits a day into our freedom. Sloppy but effective. I could have removed mine with my probes, but I was in for the duration, so why bother? I did consider removing it and handing it back to the smug son of a bitch just to see the look on his face. But as a mature and responsible spy, I elected not to.

  No snickering.

  I had complete freedom to come and go because I needed to acquire so many parts and pieces destroyed during Fontelpo’s sabotage. My ankle bomb was still set for three days, so I had to check in with the boss often, but it was nice to wander the streets. It was also nice to spend someone else’s money by the fistful. I labeled the over-purchase of overly-high-end equipment my mini-revenge. It turned out that on Pallolo, like any other busy port, I could have all kinds of personal whims listed as essential equipment if the price was right. So, some of the “wires, assorted” were cases of local hooch and “computer boards, assorted” were remarkably like local hooch. Hey, it was a long flight.

  It ended up only taking four days to load the ship. I was done stocking replacement parts in less time. So we were struck in port two more days waiting for the last third of the crew to get their full leave. Karnean was a heartless bastard, but even he knew shorting a third of the crew on shore leave would lead to trouble. Everyone needed to and would get their full share of booze, tail, and altercations. Some things never changed for ship crews of any era.

  We lifted off for Deerkon in less than a week. Along with all the original crew, Karnean had a few more unconscious conscripts. The man had a bad habit of doing that, it turned out. I think he had significant boundary issues. He told me normally he wouldn’t have had to resort to that method, but he needed more crewmen. If he told anyone where we were going, he’d get no volunteers, so why bother trying when this method worked better?

  The three-month voyage to Deerkon was a blur for me. I had so many systems to repair, replace, and rewire that I was busy nonstop. That was fine. The less time I stressed over Kayla the better. On the rare occasion when I thought about her, I’d keep asking myself, “What was I thinking?” Hooking up with a vagabond pirate joined at the hip with her sociopathic brother would be the last thing I needed. No future meant there should be no present. I was too old and otherwise committed to get involved with a fling. Maybe I’d post a picture of Sapale in my cabin to help reinforce that notion. I knew if I kept repeating those things repeatedly in my head, sooner or later I had to start believing them.

  A month out, I started to get the strangest feeling. Dread. I’d never felt it before, but I knew that’s what it had to be. It may come as a surprise that I’d never felt dread before, but I have two words for you: fighter pilot. Yeah. Fighter pilots were dread-resistant, if not downright dread-proof. But, I felt it where my stomach would have been—a crawling feeling. I tried to convince myself it was just because I’d read Kymee’s maudlin report on Deerkon. But that wasn’t the case. I could see it in my shipmates too. They were all getting jumpy. Well, all except BB. He was BB and was bolstered by my copious hooch.

  Karnean got—as if the universe needed such a thing—more testy and more difficult to be around. He’d issue an order, retract it, only to reissue it angrily ten minutes later. Once he yelled at Kayla on the bridge. I knew it wasn’t my imagination then. Deerkon was a place to avoid at all costs. Something was very wrong about Deerkon.

  Our anxiety and sense of foreboding were interrupted about a month out of Pallolo. We were attacked by three pirate ships. How ironic. Pirates attacking pirates. There was no honor among thieves. One of the ships had left port just after us. That wasn’t so odd. That they were heading to Deerkon, we’ll maybe Karnean should have noted that. The other two ship laid in wait. Once we were close enough, they fired up their engines and trapped Desolation in a triangle.

  Karnean ordered what we called “an immediate Z.” That meant the ship burst to maximum speed, directly up from the three enemy ships. Picture a fast elevator. When being chased by pirates, one factor was always in the intended victim’s favor. The booty was of no value f it was blown up. They wanted to take the ship intact, or at least in big pieces. Anyone who’s seen a pirate movie knows the drill. We run and try to destroy them. They chase and target our engines. They noticed that we were heavily armed, but maybe they also knew, like I did, the value of our cargo. Great risks yielded great rewards.

  As Desolation sprinted upward, I really wished I’d brought a spare membrane with me. But, alas, we’d be doing it the old fashion way. All three enemy ships were smaller and should have been faster. The modifications Karnean had installed on Desolation mostly negated that. Even before we achieved maximum velocity, we were firing missiles at our pursuers. They were nimble little curs, and they dodged them all. Karnean sent back the equivalent of depth charges, missiles set to explode at a given point, not on contact. That probably shook a few things off their shelves, but it didn’t slow any of them down.

  Soon, it was clear they would overtake us. They were too fast and we were too heavy with cargo. The first of their missiles missed by a good margin. Then they hailed us. Karnean refused the hail. He knew what they wanted. He also knew that even if they spared the crew, his life and his sister’s were forfeit if the enemy took Desolation. He had no reason to surrender.

  Their next volley was fired with deadly intent, not as shots across our bow. They fired warheads with no explosives, designed to make impact with the engines and disable them without risking damage to our cargo. That kind of precise targeting was hard, but if they were good little pirates, they had a lot of experience and a lot of missiles.

  Karnean released countermeasures. Basically, scrap and waste metal. A thick enough cloud of hard debris would destroy a missile. His luck was marginal. A few stopped well short of us, but even more whizzed by, narrowly missing us. They were gaining ground. Soon, they’d find their mark. Karnean launched an impressive number of missiles at them.

  Boom. Finally, he took out one ship. We only cheered briefly before we all remembered the other two killers out there who were now pissed off killers.

  When the enemy was a few thousand kilometers away, they landed their first hit. A huge t
hud rattled the ship, and an ancillary engine exploded. Desolation had three engines. One main engine was directly at the stern. Two additional engines were mounted on winglets near the base. We’d just lost one of those. Fortunately, it was far enough from the hull to do any real damage to the ship itself. But now we were slower, much slower.

  Within seconds, the remaining enemy ships split up and raced past us. They turned in tight arcs to circle back on either side of the ship. We fired a flock of weapons at each. One ship took a glancing blow. The explosions ripped open the hull, and black smoke billowed out, streaking backward due to her momentum. The ship careened to the side but held together. There was no way to know the state of her crew, but the ship was out of the fray for good.

  Just when it seemed we might be that lucky, several massive impacts rained down on Desolation. I had one probe attached to the ship, so I knew the second ancillary engine was gone and that two missiles had taken off most of the main engine. Two others ripped through the hull and shot out the opposite side, back into space. The bulkhead seals precluded an explosive decompression, but several sections were lifeless.

  Desolation shimmied and lurched sideways, her controls useless. The last enemy vessel eased alongside and hooked us with a grapple. They were clearly trying to gently bring us to a stop. They were too close to fire on, even if we’d had any missiles left. It was the old repel-boarders drill for us. Oh boy.

  Karnean screamed orders, trying to organize damage control and fire control, while at the same time assembling an armed defense.

  He called me in engineering. “Any chance you can bring the engine back online in the next five minutes?”

  “None. Zero. They fried the main engine. We’re dead in the water.”

  “Can we get the crew trapped on the other side of that breach forward to help repel boarders?”