by Dana Kelly
A forlorn smile crossed the mphuno’s face, and he lowered his horn a bit. “It’s just me and Ol’ Juneau, these days.” A big, furry dog sat up and yawned, and the mphuno reached inside his truck to pet him.
Martin chuckled to himself. “Sure. Thank you. We appreciate the company.”
“Does he bite?” asked Torsha.
“Nope,” said the mphuno.
She regarded Martin with hope in her eyes. “I’ve never met a real dog in person, before. Is it okay if I go see?”
“Go for it,” said Martin. He nodded at his son. “Why don’t you keep her company, just to be safe.”
Mike snorted. “Keep the mphuno safe? Sure, I can do that.”
“Hey,” said Torsha. “I wouldn’t dream of hurting that nice old man!”
“Mike, please,” said Martin.
“All right, all right,” said Mike. “I’m going.” He followed Torsha to the truck.
Martin looked on with a smile as the mphuno led Ol’ Juneau out onto the dirt shoulder. Mike watched as Torsha cautiously reached toward the dog and startled as it jumped to meet her hand. She laughed nervously at first, but before long played easily with the well-trained canine.
In time, the repair crew arrived. A team of human technicians exited their panel truck, and Martin explained what was going on. He led them to the port nacelle and turned his back on Mike and Torsha as he levered open the fairing.
Mike exchanged nods with the mphuno, who gestured for Ol’ Juneau to sit. The mphuno whispered, “This way.”
Torsha looked confused. “What’s going on?”
“Follow my lead,” said Mike, and he dashed to the pickup truck’s rear gate. Nimbus and Torsha hurried after. A pair of denshi-tengus stepped out of the camper shell, dressed in the same clothes as Mike and Torsha. Cables hung from the backs of their heads, and silver glinted in the backs of their enlarged eyes.
Their features changed, taking on every exact detail of the people across from them. Without a word, Mike climbed into the truck bed, and he motioned for Torsha to join him. Nimbus dispersed and reappeared next to Mike. Her heart raced and Torsha took a calming breath. With a resolute nod, she slipped inside.
The mphuno closed the rear gate. “Looks like you’re in good hands,” he called out.
“We are,” said Martin. “Thanks a lot for you time! Mike, Torsha, why don’t you get back inside. This is going a lot faster than I thought it would.”
“Sure thing,” said Mike’s doppelgänger.
The other one yawned, and they both climbed inside Martin’s sky car.
Ol’ Juneau hopped up inside the cabin, and the mphuno slid over next to him. He slammed the driver’s side door and started his truck. Cranking the wheel over, he eased out onto the road and slowly drove away.
Inside the camper shell, Torsha hissed, “You’re insane! What happens when your dad finds out they’re not us?”
Mike smiled. “He won’t. Those two are from Cooler Club. They’re the best in the business.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Torsha. She eased onto her back and gazed at the ceiling. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“Thank you,” said Mike. He reached over and squeezed her hand.
“Yeah, sure,” she muttered. After a moment, she squeezed back.
◆◆◆
Two days passed aboard Casey’s shuttle, and April felt no closer to Orin’s thoughts than she had been at the outset of their journey. “I really wish we had more time,” she said. With her gaze, she traced the contours of his face.
“I thought we needed Watchtower to get there,” said Orin.
April nodded. “We do.”
“You make it sound like we’re out of time.”
“Well, we’re not completely out of time, but once we’re aboard, my job is first mate,” said April. “That’s not going to leave much time for my personal pursuits.” She stretched and offered Orin her hand. “Come on, you should see this.”
“See what?” he asked, and she helped him to stand.
“The starship Watchtower. Come on, we’re almost there!” Suddenly, she beamed and dashed toward the cockpit. “This might be your only chance to see what she looks like from the outside.”
Orin followed and soon stood at April’s back as she lingered in the doorway. She gazed up through the canopy, and he tracked to where she pointed within the starry expanse. “I don’t see anything.”
“She’s right there.” She pulled him close, positioning his head just so. “See?”
Looking up from her chair, Casey said, “Prisoner, I don’t want you coming any closer than that. The cockpit is for command personnel only. April, what are you doing?”
“I wanted Orin to see Watchtower before we dock.”
“That’s reasonable,” said Casey. “She is very pretty. I’ll allow it this once if you two stay in the doorway. Are we clear?”
“Of course. Thank you,” said April.
Orin frowned. “I can’t find it. There are so many stars out here, I…” Suddenly, he saw what April wanted him to see. “Oh, there it is,” he whispered.
“She,” said April. “There she is.”
He gazed awhile. “She’s beautiful.”
Light traced the lines of the starship’s hull, a sleek, platinum raindrop falling upward in a sea of stars. A broad ring encircled the vessel near her crown, and dozens of glowing viewports dotted her length. At her tapered base, four polished nacelles rested upon silver wings. Emblazoned on the hull, just under the ring, soft light shone upon her name: WATCHTOWER, and directly below it, her designation: ASTN-6754.
“All right, prisoner, it’s time to get back to your seat,” said Casey. “We’ll be docking soon, and I want you secured before we go weightless.”
“Sure,” said Orin, and he turned away. Shona guided Orin back to his place on the bench.
“Oh, it’s almost time for final approach!” said April, and she took her place in the copilot’s seat.
Casey pushed a button that closed the cockpit door. “How’s it going with the prisoner? Are you making any headway?”
“I hope so. He hasn’t mentioned the airlock incident, yet.” said April.
“That’s good, right?”
April shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. It means he doesn’t trust me enough to share his pain. He’s still internalizing it.”
“Well, we still have three weeks before we get there. I’m sure you can work your magic by then,” said Casey.
Halfway down Watchtower’s length, a massive hangar door slowly opened. Adjusting for spin and tumble, Casey closed on the shuttle bay.
◆◆◆
Looking to Malmoradan with a nod, Casey said, “Give the prisoner Kendra’s quarters. If we’re flying without a collar, I want him close enough that you and Shona can take action.” Near the exit, a bulkhead lamp labeled “Exterior Pressure” turned from bright red to bright green. Casey opened the airlock and extended the boarding ramp.
“Sure thing,” said Malmoradan. Switching on his mag boots, he unfastened the safety restraints and clipped a tether between Orin and his belt. Firmly, he grabbed Orin’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“Watch it,” said Orin, and he shrugged out of Malmoradan’s grip.
Casey regarded Orin sternly. “As a ward of the penal system, you will subject yourself to whatever mode of escort or transportation I see fit. My chief of security will physically escort you to your quarters at this time. If you do anything other than follow my instructions to the letter, you will have exhausted any goodwill extended to you from my crew on behalf of my first mate.” She dangled the handcuffs close enough for Orin to lean back. “Are we clear?”
“Yeah, we’re clear,” said Orin.
Malmoradan grasped his shoulder, lifted him off the bench, and dragged Orin from the shuttle like a day-old helium balloon.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Casey regarded April. “Wonderful. Now he’s insubordinate. That’s on you.”
“That’s not how the chain of command works,” said Casey.
“This is an extraordinary situation,” said April. “Give it time. If I can win his affections, he’ll fall in line.”
“You’ll forgive my doubt,” said Casey. Opening the equipment locker, she retrieved the collar. “This was supposed to be our leverage!” She extended the device toward her first mate. “You’re asking me to trust the prisoner’s better nature, but if he ever figures out how to use his powers and seeks revenge for what I did to him, that’s it! We’re done for.”
April smiled warmly. “Orin’s not the revenge-seeking type.”
“You can’t know that,” said Casey.
“I’d bet my life on it,” said April.
“Sometimes I hate how convincing you can be,” said Casey. “How do you plan on winning the prisoner’s affections, anyway?”
“I’m not quite certain. I suppose it would be best if you devised a believable reason for me to spend most of my time with him. Make a big show of it too, and make sure he can hear you.”
“I’ll get Malmoradan to cover for you. He won’t like it, but that’s tough luck for him,” said Casey.
“He’s done a fine job covering for me so far,” said April.
“Sure, when we’re in the nightmare,” said Casey. “First mate’s duties are a lot more hands-on in the primary.”
April waved dismissively. “He’ll be fine.”
“All right, then.” Casey cleared her throat and straightened her posture. “Here we go.”
She returned the screamer to its recess, and slammed the locker shut. “Actually, you know what? I’m making you personally responsible for him! Welcome to security detail!”
April smiled furtively. Puffing up, she protested, “I don’t have time for that!”
Casey glanced outside the hatch. “You have your orders! Best you get after him!”
April stooped low and turned off her mag boots. “You’re being unreasonable!” With a quiet grunt, she launched herself deftly from the airlock compartment.
Peering from behind the latrine door, Shona quietly waved at Casey. Awkwardly, she smiled.
“How much did you hear?” asked Casey.
“Just the two of you fighting,” said Shona. “Did I miss anything?”
“Nothing worth repeating,” said Casey. “Carry on.”
“Aye, Captain,” said Shona, and she followed Casey out.
Weightlessly, April crossed the distance to Orin, whereupon she took hold of the tether. Her momentum carried them both around to cross Malmoradan’s chest. Startled, he grumped, “Watch it!”
“You’re relieved,” said April. She alighted upon a steel container where she activated her mag boots and stood parallel to the deck. With the tether in both hands, she slowed Orin’s acceleration, leaving him dangling off to the side. “Captain’s orders.”
“Really?” asked Malmoradan as Casey stormed past. Tracking his captain, he watched her take hold of the handrails and ascend a set of steel stairs. Shona hurried after. Returning his attention to April, Malmoradan asked, “How the hell are you supposed to run the ship and guard the prisoner at the same time?”
April shrugged and smiled. “I can’t, but Casey’s pissed at me, so there it is.”
Malmoradan raised his enormous shoulders and handed over the restraints, the keys, and his end of the tether. “See you for chow.” He turned away and followed his crewmates up the stairs.
April stored the restraints and keys in her pocket. She pulled Orin close and turned him to face her. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “You deserve better than this.” Guiding his arms and legs to grab onto her in piggyback fashion, she carried him toward the stairs.
“I make Casey nervous,” he replied, and for a moment he remembered how Torsha had looked at him right after he’d used his powers. He winced and closed his eyes. “I’m a monster, I get it.”
“Orin, you’re not a monster.”
“Everyone’s treating me like I am, except you,” he said. “I guess that makes you ‘good cop,’ right? Well, you can drop the act, because I’m not hiding anything.”
April sighed and shook her head. “This isn’t a good cop, bad cop kind of thing.”
“Then why are you being nice to me?”
April cast him a backward glance. “You really don’t want to go down that road.” Gripping the rails, she stomped down on the first step.
“What road?”
“Don’t read into my kindness, and definitely don’t fall for me because I’m the only one being civil to you.”
Orin blushed. “That’s not how I meant it.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He laughed. “Well, now I’m sure!”
April smiled to herself. “Good.”
A moment passed as she labored up the stairs. “Why don’t we just float up?” asked Orin.
“There are plenty of sharp edges embedded in the overhead,” said April. “Plus, our ranch-hand needs a tune-up. Half the time anyone goes floating around in here, it mistakes them for unsecured cargo and tries to stack them on top of the other containers.”
“What’s a ranch-hand?”
Pausing in her advance to point behind her, she indicated a large robot arm that hung directly over the shuttle. With a goldenrod coat of paint, black diagonals marked it here and there, and old stains leaked from a dozen joints. “It helps with repairs and heavy lifting.”
“That’s cool,” said Orin.
Except for the quiet buzz of her mag boots and the clang of each footfall, they continued in silence. Soon, they alighted upon a wide landing and crossed into a narrow passage. Directly ahead, a pair of doors faced each other. As they passed by, she noted, “Those are Edison’s and Cajun’s quarters.” Next to one, a placard read, “Dr. Edison Stone, M.D.” Next to the other, a placard read, “John LeKay.”
“John’s nickname is Cajun, I take it.”
“That’s correct,” said April. “Only Krané ever calls him John though, and usually only when he cooks something Krané loves eating.”
“Who’s Krané?” asked Orin.
“He’s the ship’s navigator and her helmsman. He’s cullthoun, so try not to make it awkward if you run into him,” said April.
“Awkward? How would I make it awkward?”
“Have you ever seen a cullthoun in person?” she asked.
Orin adjusted his grip. “One of my best friends in middle school was a cullthoun. Kadena was her name. Kadena Bolrae.”
“Then I suppose you won’t make it awkward,” said April. “That’s good.”
They continued along the passage.
“The brig and the med bay are in the next passage over,” she explained. “I hope you won’t be seeing much of either.”
When they reached the central lift, she followed a circular deck around to the call button, walking past another passageway and stopping with their backs to a third. April tapped the call button, and they soon boarded.
Orin caught a glimpse of a fourth passageway around the bend. He imagined the deck plan resembled a Phillips head screw top. “What’s down those halls?” he asked.
“Those are supplemental quarters. They’re earmarked for contractors in case we need some extra muscle for a takedown.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t hire any contractors for me,” said Orin.
“We weren’t even sure if you had powers,” said April, and they ascended one deck higher. Upon their arrival, they exited the lift, walked a few paces along the circular deck, and headed straight down a passageway to the second door on the left. A nameplate affixed to the jamb read, “Kendra Keating.”
At her urging, Orin disengaged from April, and she opened the door. Lights flickered on, casting dusky illumination upon a cozy room, complete with a recessed bed, a recessed desk, wall drawers, and a ti
ny bathroom at the far end. “Let me know if you want it brighter in here,” said April. “Kendra always liked it dark.”
“I don’t mind the dark,” said Orin.
“Well, give it some thought. This is your home for the next three weeks,” said April.
Pulling himself inside, he hovered near the bed. “Three weeks?”
“The nearest assessment facility is located at the edge of the Ixion solar system. Even accelerating at a steady 1G, it’s a long trip.”
Watchtower groaned from stem to stern, and weightlessness gave way to the centrifugal force of acceleration.
“There we go,” said April. Gazing upon Orin for a moment, she sighed wistfully. “I have to lock you in here, but I’ll be back soon with something to eat. Try to get some rest.”
Orin stumbled as gravity took hold and sat down heavily upon the edge of the bed. He glanced up at her. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
April stooped low to switch off her mag boots before closing the door. She hesitated before locking it.
◆◆◆
April sat alone on the mess deck, hunched over a cup of coffee. The air felt cool as it quietly hummed through the vents. Lost in her thoughts, she sipped her drink.
Krané’s vocoder came in loud and clear through a nearby communications panel. “April, do you have a minute?”
She glanced toward a tiny camera dome before getting to her feet and nodding. She reached the communications panel a moment later. “What’s on your mind?”
“Can you come to my quarters? It’s a delicate matter.”
“Do I have time to finish my coffee?” she asked.
“If you must,” said Krané.
“Thanks,” said April. “I’ll head over right after.”
In time, she navigated the passageways to Krané’s quarters, and he opened his door. Inside, softly glowing organic filaments dangled from the overhead. His recessed bed included a watertight enclosure, and a massive lava lamp stood in the corner, nearly as tall as Krané. He welcomed her inside and guided her to his recessed desk. “Sir, sit,” he said as he pushed aside a large, weathered reference manual, and he opened a video file on his computer console.
“Is this the dash cam footage?” she asked.
