Proving True: A Sonia MacTaggert Novel

by Robert Culp

  Now, while I have some spare time I can…incoming mail.

  I have to go get measured now? I was hoping to get some preliminary toxic atmosphere data put together for my tests, but it looks like that’s on hold so I can go get measured for a gown I do not want to attend a meal I probably won’t enjoy with a man I can’t stand. This day just keeps getting better.

  Walking into the banquet hall, I have to admit I do feel like a Lemurian princess, everyone here, even the wait staff, is dressed to the nines. And right now, they're all looking at me. There’s a hostess to guide me to the table where Professor Jenkins already sits, he stands as we walk up. I’m in a gown and he’s in a tuxedo. I suppose it’s only fair. One of the waiters dashes over to scoot my chair out then back in as I sit. William takes his own seat. The waitress brings an appetizer, battered deep fried cheese sticks, and a choice of wines. I don’t know which wines go with which foods, so I select a malbec because I like malbec. In general I prefer reds to whites. William begins to drone at length about the latest “developments” in his life. His parrot has died, his therapist is helping him cope with his anguish, and he gets no support from his family. After twenty minutes I begin to envy the parrot. In fact, I’m wondering if the bird committed suicide. I’m afraid I’m going to fall asleep waiting for an opportunity to discuss the environmental chamber when he pulls a small, jeweled box from the pocket of his tuxedo jacket after the entrée dishes are cleared. He moves his chair and kneels in front of me. The box contains a ring with a huge emerald. “Sonia MacTaggert,” he intones, “I have chosen you to be my next wife. They have numerous husbands, so you will have a vast stable from which to choose to consummate our union. I invite you into our clan. Please accept this and vow to marry me as soon as we can make the appropriate arrangements.”

  For several heartbeats, I am literally speechless. I have more desire to gargle battery acid than I do marry this man. I need the atmospheric chamber, but not this bad. But alienating him does no one any good. “Oh, William, you dear sweet man! You should not have sprung this on me so! While hurting you is the farthest thing from my mind, I must refuse your offer. First and foremost, I’m not at a stage in my life where I wish to get married. Secondly, when I do marry, it will be to one man and I will be his only wife. I understand there may be positive aspects of polygamy, but I’m unaware of them. How can there be true intimacy when the heart is pulled in so many directions?” I push my chair back, preparing to leave. “Thank you for a lovely evening, but I think it’s time I go.” I hope he won't withhold the chamber in retribution.

  But rather than accept my rejection with style and dignity, he puffs up like a politician. His neck turns a deep crimson and the color begins to creep up into his face. “What is this? You cannot refuse me! It is customary for a man to pick his wives and it is accepted practice that the women chosen not refuse! It is a matter of interstellar law!” I doubt that but now is not the time to research it. He snaps the box closed, gets to his feet and his right hand closes around my left forearm. “Come with me, you feckless harlot!” He tries to pull me to my feet.

  Apparently, he’s not used to hearing the answer “no.” I stand and fix an icy glare on him, my tone is just as cold, in clipped tones I tell him “You can take your hand off of me, or I can, but it will move in three…two…one.” He doesn’t move. Using one of the techniques Master Kreq taught, I circle my left fingers under his hand and raise my arm. The Y formed by my thumb and fingers pushes up his forearm. The twin demons of Geometry and Physics take over and my arm easily slips from his grasp. And now it’s my turn. I wrap my left hand around his forearm, rotating it so the concave bend of his elbow is towards me. My bladed right hand goes into the crook of his elbow as I step back and twist my hips, pulling his captured hand to my left shoulder. It isn’t perfectly executed, but it is an elbow chop. The demons Geometry and Physics continue to annoy William and he is propelled through the air, colliding with the table next to ours. My classmates know how to take the fall. William does not.

  Neighboring tables stopped to watch his proposal. They’re all watching the aftermath of my refusal. From the miasma of spilt wine, broken crystal and crockery, gravy and what appears to be cornbread stuffing, he bellows, “Security! Help, I’ve been assaulted!” From nowhere, two security officers appear, one running to each side of me, a third helps William to his feet. The embarrassed fat man points at me, “That whore,” he wheezes, “must be disciplined. I demand to speak to the Captain.”

  “And your demand is granted, sir,” Captain Pipper is standing behind him. Oh, lords of the earths and skies, why did he have to be in here tonight? “This nonsense will stop immediately.” His voiced isn’t raised, his tone is not harsh, but it’s clear that nothing short of obedience will be tolerated. The only blessing in my favor is that Freddie is one of the security officers responding to the incident, he’s to my right.

  “Please come with me, Chief MacTaggert,” Freddie says. His tone of voice also indicates that compliance is expected. “We have a heap of red tape to get through.” As he escorts me from the banquet hall with a thousand eyes boring holes through me, I look back to see William. He sits in the chair he dined in, his empty gaze on the floor. “Quietly, Sonia,” Freddie whispers. “We have to make it look good for the audience.”

  “Am I being arrested?” I whisper back to him.

  “Only in the strictest sense of the word,” he answers. “I prefer ‘Detained.’ At most you’ll be questioned and released. From what I saw it was self defense, I won’t need any convincing.”

  Once we’re out in the corridor and the door has closed behind us I tell him, “I understand there’s stout and whatever you want to drink in lounge six when I finish with the red tape, are you going to let me buy you a drink?”

  “How long have we known each other, something like three years now? In all that time have I ever stopped you from buying me anything?”

  “Not once, and I'll point out that you've never offered to pick up a tab either.” He shrugs. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’ but I’m going to want to get out of this princess garb and into something a little grubbier,” I shoot him a sideways glance, “as I’ll be seen with you. I mean, we both have images to protect.”

  “Yeah,” he’s thinking though. “On second thought, I may have to take a rain check on the booze. Should the good professor push the issue, we don’t want to have to explain why you were fraternizing with the arresting officer.” I stop walking and gawk at him. “It’s just an expression. By definition you have been ‘arrested’ in that your freedom has been temporarily curtailed. Don’t sweat it, you’re not going into a cell.” I start walking and breathing again. “Unless you ask politely, that is.” He grins at me like the shit eating dog he is.

  We turn a corner on our walk to the security substation when I start thinking out loud. “What would turn a genteel academic like him into a raving polygamous psychopath? You know I love you, Fred, so please don’t take it too personally when I say that’s behavior I’d expect from a trooper before I would from the likes of him.”

  “Under other circumstances, that might cost you some teeth, but in this case I agree with you. That's one of the things I've been pondering myself.”

  It takes us an hour and twenty minutes to complete the investigation documentation. After getting all of my identification information and making me tell him what happened three different times, Freddie tells me to go do whatever I’m going to do and meet him in the lounge in an hour. So that's what I do. I guess he’s found a loophole in the fraternization issue.

  I’m halfway through my first glass of stout when he plops down in the booth opposite me, setting a large haversack down beside him. “Beertender, a cold Pilsner please and thank you.” He turns to me, “I have a little more understanding of what happened to Professor Jenkins. He’s not insane, he’s sick. After we left he started complaining of killer headaches and was taken to the infirmary in this module before being transferred to th
e hospital. It appears Billy Boy has been infected with some horrible nasty they called a ‘prion.’ I don’t know a lot about that, but apparently it’s some kind of brain bug that makes the host go bonkers. The people going on the mission are going into quarantine to minimize possibility of infection. In fact, the whole crew is about to be ordered into APE. The beady-eyed smart kids think—I have no idea why—that there may be a cure on the ship we’re going to salvage. So we’re all going to spend the next five weeks together in a little section of module K. Won’t that be delightful?” He looks pretty satisfied with himself. I’m speechless. “Oh, that reminds me,” he reaches into the haversack. “Drink up, then put this on.” He pulls out two APE suits in storage configuration and hands me one.

  “What about you?” I ask as I pop open the carrying snaps. “You've been in the same proximity to me as I was to him. Aren't you subject to infection too?”

  “I haven’t finished my beer yet.” The beertender—I have to admit I kind of like the term—sets the tall glass down of pale beer on the table. Without ceremony, Freddie raises it to his lips and doesn’t put it down until it’s empty. At which time, with a gesture towards mine, he opens and dons his own APE suit. “It’s her,” he says to those who look our way. “Beans didn’t agree with her. Shooo-eeee!”

  “I’ll get you for that,” I say with a snarl.

  “Bring it. Be sure bring your A game and your lunch. It will be a very long day. For you.” We gather up everything we brought and begin the long trip to module K. Just for fun, we exchange small talk on the way. I decide that given the choice between sharing a room with Freddie or Shawna, I’ll pick Freddie. The insult level will be higher but I’ll get more sleep.

  “Because the Team Leadership should be together to discuss any developments and discuss contingencies?” he asks.

  “Because you won’t try to sneak into my bunk when I’m asleep,” I tell him.

  “Damn skippy, and you will likewise keep your hands off this fine avatar of twisted steel and sex appeal.” He’s quick. I’ll give him that.

  Shawna finds us on the way. She’s also in an APE suit. As we walk, the order comes over the allCom for the crew to do the same. At her request, Freddie brings her up to speed on what happened in the banquet hall. We walk a bit in silence until I ask her, “Is it the curse of being pretty? I mean I like William as a person and such, but I never imagined he’d go off the deep end and want to marry me. I understand that he’s not well, but that idea must have been in there somewhere and the prion drew it out. I had similar experiences when we were on Night Searcher. All I want is to do my job, is that too much to ask?”

  “Not at all, baby,” Shawna answers. “I don’t know about such, I was always just so happy to get attention like that I never thought to question why. That might go a long way to explaining why I became the woman I am.

  “Subject change: Do you have any objection to me loading Athena with the Emergency Pilot and Navigational software? Since she’ll be with us as a field medic and with the possibility of a brain-scrambling parasite, I’d just feel better about someone else being able to drive if I go nutsy cuckoo.”

  Freddie looks to me, “Fly girl has an excellent idea, but legally Athena’s still your property. If it matters, I'd prefer you agree.”

  I look to Shawna, “That is an excellent idea. Make it happen. Do you need anything from me?”

  “I don’t think so,” she says. “Except maybe for her to hear you say that. We should be able to crossload the software in The Can.” And speaking of The Can, we are at the entrance to module K, the isolation module.

  What happens next is pretty surreal. There is an isolation container set up inside the containment module. The whole team is here and we are filed through the container individually. Inside, medics in APE suits draw blood and test it immediately. The person being tested waits until they’re finished and it is not a quick test. So far, the results must all be good as no one is sent back into the ship's general population. It takes hours to get us all through. Freddie is last. Once the medics are finished, they pack up their gear and leave. Freddie removes the helmet of his APE suit and addresses us all. “Okay, unless you feel some perverse need to do otherwise, consider this area to be ‘all clear’ and come out of your APE gear. But hear this: if you pass through that airlock, thou shalt be in APE, armor or something that isolates you from the general population. Do we all understand that?” No one says anything. “C’mon, people, this means ‘yes,’” he nods his head, “this means, ‘no,’” he shakes his head. We all nod. “Excellent. We are free to move about the ship if we must, but the idea behind getting you all off of your respective duty rosters was so you wouldn’t have to move about the ship. Athena, as an android you don’t have a meat brain like we do, so you aren’t required to be in APE if you leave, as there is no concern that you will fall victim to the wee beast. But you will go through extensive decontamination just on the off chance a prion falls on your shoulder in corridor B or something. I don’t care if that’s not possible or reasonable. It’s my decision and I’m deciding to err in favor of mission and team safety. Thank you in advance for complying with my desires. Now, this has been a very long day. Everyone find a bunk and get some sleep. Sonia, stick around for a bit, please.”

  “I need just a second, Freddie.” I tell him and pull Athena to one side. “One of the lessons I learned commanding Night Searcher is redundancy can be a very good thing,” I tell her. “I want you to program yourself to pilot any vehicle in Star Chaser’s inventory as well as navigate any small craft. Starship navigation shouldn’t be a need, but if it is convenient, feel free.”

  “Of course, in the event that Miss Landers becomes incapacitated I will be able to bring the mission team back here. Have you any other instructions?”

  “Yes,” I answer, “I want you to consider directives you receive from Shawna or Freddie to be as important as any you receive from me. And just as with mine, if they conflict with mission parameters, existing orders or your basic programming you are free to question them. But if you feel the need to disobey them, please make a reasonable effort to contact me for a final decision.”

  “Yes, ma’am. If there is nothing else, I must now locate a holoCom with high speed transmission capability.” She turns and walks away. She doesn’t need sleep so I’ll probably not see her for hours.

  I turn to Freddie, “What’s on your mind, Boss?”

  “I thought you’d be interested to know that your friend, Professor Jenkins, has been TMODed. He was judged to not only be insane, but a threat to himself and others. So he’s on ice until one of the eggheads finds a treatment and/or cure for whatever the problem is. I’m told the aforementioned prion is still the best candidate. The odd thing is the insanity came on within hours. When he got out of bed that morning he was a brilliant scientist, an hour after dinner with you he was crapping his pants and giggling about it. On a happier note, what have you learned about the wraith armor and the toxic environment?”

  “I haven’t put the suit in a simulated toxic environment yet but we have run several computer simulations. I was discussing the environmental chambers with William—Professor Jenkins—in Banquet Room 4. So far, my people are telling me that as of today/now it should protect the user for 12 hours. So whatever they’re doing, I recommend getting into high gear and staying there, no lollygagging, no sight seeing.”

  “Very well, keep me in the loop and keep up the good work. I’m hitting the rack. I recommend you do the same before you start drooling and looking slack eyed.”

  Over the next few days the team spends almost all of its waking hours together. We spend many hours around a table discussing our own jobs and learning about each other’s jobs. Freddie is a big proponent of cross training. We won’t make each other masters of our crafts, but we will become passably adequate if need be. And of course, we take all of our meals together as well as share the shower and hygiene areas, individual berthing areas. In short we’re never a
lone. So within a relatively short period of time, we’re all on the verge of homicidal mania so if someone wants “quiet” or “alone” time, we respect that and leave him or her alone.

  In early exploration of module K, I found a storage room for my second office/hideout. Today I push the stuff in it, mostly furniture, to one side and turn it into a micro-dojo to practice my shrakas since I can’t attend class. I don’t have any mats, per se, but a few tarps that are in here can be folded and stacked to provide minimal cushioning for falls and rolls. On a whim, I pull my perCom from my pocket and thumb up Master Kreq’s icon.

  “Hello, Sonia,” his face beams at me from the two inch screen. “I’m happy to hear from you, how have you been?”

  “Hello, Master, I suppose I’m doing as well as can be expected. I miss being in the dojo.”

  “Perhaps we can arrange for some two-way holography so you can attend in proxy. Mitra and Shawna would probably like that as well,” he suggests.

  Why didn’t I think of that? “That would be very helpful in breaking the…confinement we find ourselves in. Have you a few minutes?”

  “I’m due on shift in about an hour, what’s on your mind?”

  “Teleportation,” I tell him. We spend almost the entire hour talking about teleportation, its practice, risks and possibilities. I keep him talking until he has to break the connection to sign in to work. I took copious notes while he was explaining what to and what not to do. He was most emphatic about one thing: no amulet. Not yet, it’s an amplifier and I need to learn to handle this skill on a small level before I try it on a big one. Fortunately, that’s not an issue as I left it in the safe in my stateroom. After breaking the connection, I sit cross-legged on one of the mats, steadying my breathing and my thoughts. My gaze focuses on the wall across from me. I close my eyes, feeling my breathing and my heartbeat slow. I imagine myself no longer where I am, but sitting on the mat about two meters closer to the wall. I imagine myself dissolving from here and reassembling there. I open my eyes, and I’m where I expect to be, two meters from where I sat. I look over my shoulder to see the mat where I’d been sitting, the impressions of my behind and feet disappear as the folded tarp recovers from the sudden absence of my weight.