by Luna Harlow
Jennifer tried not to slump into her chair. "Come on. We both know Captain Smith will want to take her on. She's hot property and he's about to depart on a mission with a small scientific mission. That's not what they're going to task me with and we both know it."
She glanced over at Captain Smith, seated alone at one of the other tables with nothing but a data pad to keep him company. He glanced at her, smiled as if amused, and looked back to his work.
"You'll need a lab manager, too," Pill said.
"I've already tapped Despotakis for that."
Dr Pill's unimpressed look could be intense when he wasn't drunk, even with the cold chips in front of him as proof of his distraction.
"Fine," she said. "Object memory. It's an interesting idea."
"You're that interested in psychics?"
"I'm not interested in mind readers. I don't want somebody trying to invade my mind and steal my secrets," she said.
Graham laughed. "Too right. You should have seen the way she reacted to the empath on Monumenta."
"She was a twit," Jennifer said, and immediately regretted it. But she rescued her posture from its slump and tried to start over. "I met a antiques dealer with level 2 psychometry once. She was interesting. She could tell you what the person who last owned an object had been feeling. This idea of feelings collecting on an object like some kind of psychic dirt that I can't see is something I confess to some mild amateur interest in. It's the same reason I read popular science. The universe is made of interesting parts."
"Solaris's ability goes far beyond that. As a level five she not only feels object memory, she can see it. If you touch an object and then she touches it, she will know that you touched it without being told. If she touches you, she can see your recent memories." Pill threw his napkin over the cold chips and leaned forward. "When I first worked with her, she could only see vivid images as far back as a week. Her ability has grown far beyond that. I'm not sure there is a limit to how far back she can see in the memories of a person she hasn't touched before anymore. If you don't want someone looking through your brain, then you would not enjoy this."
"I don't want to hold her hand, doctor. I want to have a conversation," Jennifer said.
"She doesn't like people poking into her life and past any more than you do," Pill said, wry.
"Then I won't ask. I won't ask about her life on Westroia. I can read books if I want to know about that planet."
Graham interrupted again. "She's already read so many. Jen was such a... Sorry, Space Captain Li was a nerd when we met. It's my greatest duty to distract her from her books by throwing women and wine at her until she has no time to read."
Dr Pill didn't look impressed by Graham's interruption. "Nobody was worried that you'd ask for an official history of the planet."
"Well, in that case," Jennifer said, "you don't need to worry that I'll ask why her religious title isn't on her official records in spite of the photo documenting that she has the ceremonial tattoos of one of the Westroian mystery faiths, and I won't ask why her full name and the names of her family aren't on her official file, or why she has no next of kin to contact in the event of an emergency, or... any of it. You need not worry I'll bother her at all. She has no interest in conversing with me whatsoever."
"You also have redactions in your file."
"I'm aware, Dr Pill, and I have to talk about them every 18 months in order to continue on in the space force. But as you've finished your food and there's nowhere interesting for this conversation to, I'd say it's time we wrap it up and all repair to our rooms."
She stood and hoped it looked commanding.
"Very well," Dr Pill said, and stood to follow, with Graham following suit a second later.
6.
FIRST SOLARIS THOUGHT she should check the rest of the crew. Was it too quiet on the level they were still staying on? Maybe it was just that so many of them were elsewhere with the captain and Lady Free gone, Richards guarding that woman downstairs, and Dr Pill moved down a floor to be in easy reach of his next captain.
And yet, there should have been more sound than this. In one room there was only a small group of the men and the person McIntyre had watching them playing cards with the communications officer in one room. Only one room was in use. The others were empty of humanoid forms.
The door to that room had been jammed, somehow, but Solaris broke it open with a sharp elbow, and they all looked up at her when she looked in. A small group of the men and the communications officer playing cards with the person McIntyre had assigned to watch them.
"What's happening, sir?" Keating asked.
"Nothing important. Barricade yourself in here just in case," she said, then turned and walked as fast as she could to the elevator, ignoring the enquiring voices as she left.
The elevator opened on the tenth floor, and the world erupted into sound. A banging noise and the ping of another elevator going down. And Richards's voice, rough like it was scraping against something to force its way through his throat, yelling, "Get him!"
Solaris skidded to the floor to land at Richards's side. He was covered in blood and ink and marked with bruises that were already pushing their way to his skin's surface, and he'd bled dark red onto the pale carpet. He lay in front of the room the Nectarens had shared, struggling to get up.
Solaris didn't know where it was safe to touch him. For him or her.
She had left her gloves upstairs, unthinking as she emerged from the fog of sleep. What a fool she was. She felt exposed, raw, over-sensitised. Everything around her promised a dangerous intimacy, the threat of knowledge she didn't want to learn.
"I stopped him from getting to them," he said. His voice rasped because of the clear damage to his throat, the skin reddened in the shape of fingers. "Only just. If you hadn't arrived just now, sir, he would have got us all."
His eyes were damp. It was okay for a person to cry in the moment as long as they did their job. He'd done his best and no person could fault that.
Solaris pushed open the door behind him. The Nectarens were huddled in a corner, oozing dark ink all over the beige carpet, skin beaded damp like with some awful sweat.
"I just wish," Richards said, and then he really started to cry, "that I could have stopped him from getting to her."
Her. Solaris stood and the world she focused on narrowed to her path to Veronica's door.
She didn't need to touch it to look. The scene was laid in front of her, door half open to allow any passerby to witness. How she hadn't noticed it first, she didn't know.
But as she looked at the scene she was that Veronica Menken was dead.
Solaris stepped back. The elevator pinged again. Solaris clenched a fist and walked back to where Richards was coughing on the floor. The people exiting on that floor made noises, got loud, but she ignored them. Knelt down just long enough to press two fingers to Richards' face to take the memory from his brain, then pushed away to find a way out.
Somebody called her name but she ignored them. Smashed open an emergency panel and took the ladder up, hoping she'd find Johnson before he could kill anyone else.
THE QUIET SCENE THEY'd left before they'd gone down to the bar had become messy by the time they returned. Already Jennifer could see how busy the crime scene cleaners would be later.
Dr Pill yelled out Commander Solaris's name as she escaped the floor but Jennifer held him back from following. "She has a strength advantage and none of us are armed. Let's get organised before we make any moves."
"It wasn't her!" The protest coming from the boy on the floor. Richards, poor kid. She'd known there was the chance he'd get injured when she set him on this detail, but he looked shocked down to his soul.
"Ssh, lad," Dr Pill said. He put out a calming hand but didn't touch. His other hand he used to retrieve medical grade gloves from his pocket. "I'm sure it's all a shock but we'll sort things out later."
"Graham, check on the Nectarens," Jennifer said.
"Yes, sir."
She took in the sight of the hallway, the trail of blood spatters. Down the hallway another scene of violence, chairs overturned and curtains torn, but she couldn't open the door without contaminating the scene.
"Officially, I believe you'll have to deal with this body first, Dr Pill."
"Oh, no, that poor girl."
"Nectarens are fine," Graham yelled out. "Okay, they're not fine, they're just not dead."
Dr Pill pushed through the door to the room and knelt by the unmoving woman's side. "Officially, I have to make a resuscitation attempt before I can call it."
Jennifer nodded. "You have the experience. I'll leave you to it."
Back down the hallway Richards was attempting to bring himself upright and sit against the wall, panting heavy and eyes big like it hurt him even to think through every movement.
"Careful there, Richards. You're injured. Sorry that you'll have to wait for medical attention but in a triage situation sometimes you just have to."
"It wasn't Mr Solaris," he said. His eyes rolled a little, like even that effort was making his world swim around him, and his breathing grew more ragged.
"Easy there, mate," Graham said. "Don't hurt yourself worse."
"It was Johnson! I don't... I don't know how. I never thought... I never thought... We said things, but..."
"I get it. You didn't have to like the Nectarens to think they and their friends deserved to live. He disagreed." She looked at Graham. "You call it in to McIntyre."
She stood up to look at the Nectarens, huddled together and flashing pink and red. It was a burden to be the only person on the floor fully conversant in their sign language, but at least it meant she could signal to them to stay calm and co-operate. Graham knew enough that he'd be able to give them basic orders for their safety if he had to.
She was going down to the floor where the Moving Along Silently was docked, instead.
BACK UPSTAIRS, SOLARIS looked through her small pile of belongings to see what could be of use. The station staff had confiscated her ray gun when they reached the station along with everyone else's, and hadn't yet been returned it to her. She would have to rely on cleverness and superior strength.
Luckily, she had sizeable quantities of both.
THE ELEVATOR RIDE DOWN wasn't long, and yet Jennifer felt more impatient with every second.
She skidded into the open space when the doors opened. The floor mostly clear but for Johnson trying to get past Sugimoto. Sugimoto looked determined to bar his way and keep him from reaching the cordoned off docking bay where the Moving Along Silently sat like little more than an emptied out crime scene.
"Step away from him, Johnson," Jennifer ordered.
Of course, she was ignored.
She had to make a decision on how to proceed quickly, weighing up the potential indignity of trying to physically remove Johnson by herself in the absence of a member of security and the difficulties that might ensue if she drew her weapon as a deterrent. What did they like to say in officer training? 'If you draw your weapon you've already lost'?
She ran for the alarm button, first, and then intervened.
She grabbed Johnson by the shoulder and pulled him away from his struggle against Sugimoto. He growled, and lashed out with one arm. Much stronger than she might have suspected by the way he looked. Unnaturally strong. His face, already smeared with blood, ink and sweat, screwed up in an ugly expression.
He threw a clenched fist at her, and she dodged, just barely.
"I won't let you get to it," she said.
"Stupid woman," Johnson said. Oh, he was one of those. A foamy dribble of spit escaped his mouth as he moved it.
She reached for his elbow to hold him back but he grabbed at the top of her uniform with clumsy, blunt fingers. He shook at it, trying to shake her off. All he did was tear the fabric so hard she fell back.
He moved for Sugimoto instead, who was younger and slighter than she was but no less tenacious, but she grabbed at his leg to pull him down. Johnson kicked at her, and then stumbled back. His stumble corrected itself into a jog.
"I'll find another way!" Johnson yelled.
She pulled out her weapon and shot a low level beam at his leg but it didn't even slow him down as he disappeared into the emergency access tunnel. Going up, she assumed. If he could shake off a hit by her ray gun even at a non-lethal setting as if he'd barely been touched then he had to be juiced up beyond normal human standards.
She wiped her head clear of sweat. She was breathing heavy, already, even after that six months of physical therapy to restore her to fighting fitness. She could feel her torn shirt scraping against her skin under her uniform jacket. Sugimoto slumped and then collapsed into a sitting position next to her.
"Thank you, sir," he said. "I wouldn't have been able to manage him on my own."
"Just doing my job."
"I've always admired the way you handle things."
"Well, I'm glad one of us does," she said, then tapped her communicator and gave McIntyre her read of the situation.
SOLARIS WAS READY WHEN Johnson scrambled up out of the emergency tunnel. He startled when he saw her and stopped in his tracks. Clearly, whatever he'd ingested to increase his strength hadn't completely removed what little intelligence he had.
He scratched at the back of his neck and smeared a mix of fluids further over the skin of his neck. Then he shook all over. A mild seizure, perhaps.
"I won't let you finish whatever course of action you have chosen to undertake," she said.
"Sir, I... If you knew what I knew you wouldn't stop me."
"You clearly have limited knowledge of my attitudes, Mr Johnson. I would stop you no matter what information you shared with me about your reasoning."
He shook his fist at her. A useless gesture.
"We can't let people let Nectarens into their lives. I touched the anomaly. It showed me! They'll attack again and there'll be another war."
She was not swayed by his pleading. "That doesn't give you permission to be the person who starts it."
He growled. "I will go through you if I have to."
She wouldn't let him. He rushed at her but she was able to push him back, thankful she'd taken time to find her gloves so she wouldn't have to see into his memories.
He charged at her again. It was weak, ineffective. When she pushed him away he stumbled all the way back to the metal catwalk, his feet clumping heavy on the floor.
He snorted like a pig and ran at her again. Grabbed at her clothing this time, like that would help him at all. She pushed him back with an elbow but he clung, hands tight to the shoulder of her over-shirt as his feet went out from under him. He was laughing, though it was a pathetic whisper of a sound. She pushed him again, pushed him back, and his hands slipped free.
Another shove and he collapsed on the floor, but he pushed himself up again to attack. She blocked all his moves, easily. Did he really think he could win like this?
He smirked up at her and said, "I know how to beat you."
He swung one filthy hand at her head. She dodged away and he grabbed at one of her hands. He stepped back before she could react, head held high.
He held up one of her gloves like a prize. "Try to beat me now."
"I can beat you with one hand."
His movements were getting slower. He was tiring himself out. It was easy to fend off his first attempt at grabbing her, and his second. The difficulty was avoiding skin contact. That, and tempering her strength so she didn't accidentally kill him. It would be too easy, but then people would look at her like they'd looked at Westroians for centuries, like she was a violent animal that should be put down. He wasn't worth that.
He still laughed, though it was interrupted by big gulping breaths. Already he was winded. She only had to wait him out.
"I've found your biggest weakness," he said. "Everyone has one. You have so many."
She didn't reply, only pushed him back again.
"When I beat you I'll t
ell everyone that you did those murders," he said. "They'll be happy to believe me."
"Too many people have seen and heard you now to believe that."
He snarled and tried again, and again, a constant annoying attack she kept fending off, until...
He must have grazed her skin because she could see it, all the rotten things inside him that he'd seen and done. His hands around Veronica Menken's throat and Richards coughing on the floor. The shock in Kennedy's eyes as he'd attacked. His hand dragging a piece of metal pipe in the dark as the Captain approached. And before that, his plans, his hallucinations, his screaming fights, the image of the white edges of the anomaly growing bigger and bigger as he faced the break in the time stream and put his hands inside.
Disorientation, her time sense faltering. When she'd pulled herself clear from the images in his memories he'd pushed past her and was moving for the elevators.
The red lights were lit up above their doors to show they would admit no passengers, but he banged at the panel and pleaded for them to let him in.
She stood up. Removed the other glove.
"It won't work," she said. "You cannot win this fight."
"You're so afraid," he said, "of seeing other people's pasts that you cut yourself off from human touch. You can't beat me. You only see the past but I've seen the future."
He clearly didn't realise he'd already lost.
"I believe you like card game metaphors," she said. "Let me inform you that you've played your best card in a losing hand."
He turned back to face her, expression smug. Moved toward her with that unearned confidence, body still shaking. "What are you going to do? Touch me?"
"I've already seen everything you have to show. I have nothing to fear from you."
JENNIFER ARRIVED AT the top level just in time to see Johnson run straight at Solaris. The momentum pushed them both over the edge of the low rail and only Solaris's quick fingers grabbing on to the grate at the edge of the floor stopped them from falling to their deaths.
