Advance

by Gun Brooke

  “Ah, Admiral. Welcome back,” said the chief medical officer, whom everyone aboard the Espies Major lovingly called Doc. His steel-gray, abundant hair framed a weathered face, blue-green eyes, and bushy, black eyebrows. Tall and burly, he leaned over Dael. “You’ve been napping for about two hours. I was about to try to revive you with some perk-me-up meds, which I’m sure you somehow knew, apparently.”

  “How did you guess, Doc?” Dael grimaced and sat up. He knew better than to stop her.

  “Oh, your dislike for medication and my profession is no secret, Admiral.” He smiled. “Although, I must say, even you must agree I come in handy sometimes.”

  “Doc, you know me better than that. I’m eternally grateful for all the times you saved my rear as well as those of my crew. I just don’t like—”

  “—not being in control. Being strapped to a gurney and forced to accept medication and treatment. I know.” His gaze mellowed. “You took a nasty blow to the head. I’d recommend a night here with us before you return to your quarters.”

  Smiling briefly, Dael shook her head, immediately wishing she hadn’t. “How about a compromise?” she asked. “I go back to my quarters, but I accept whatever medication you decide I may need.”

  “That, if nothing, shows me how desperate you are to get out of here. Humor me and let me examine you at least once now that you’re lucid, sir.”

  “Very well.” Since that gave her enough time to get her bearings, she allowed it.

  “Apart from the concussion, you’re remarkably unscathed. Bruised, yes, and you’ll be sore as hell for the next few days, but all in all, you survived that fall with remarkably little damage.”

  “And because my crew risked everything to keep me safe,” Dael said shortly. “They could’ve left me, but they didn’t.”

  “Just like you didn’t leave Spinner to fend for herself on Gemosis, you mean?” Doc raised a bushy eyebrow. “You may think you hold the crew at an arm’s length, in a manner of speaking, but they adore you.”

  Such words made her more uncomfortable than his examination. Standing up, she looked down at the white shirt that ended just above her knees with dismay. “I want some actual clothes. A leisure suit, size female six.” The sooner she got out of this flimsy shirt, the better.

  “I’ll have a nurse assist you and also bring you some painkillers. I’m going to have to insist that someone from my staff go to your quarters every other hour to check on your neurological status.”

  “That will not be necessary—”

  “Oh, but it will. It’s that or I’ll pull medical rank and have you confined to a bed here, and it’ll go on your permanent record that you had to be removed from duty.” His eyes were no longer jovial.

  “Fine.”

  “Good.” Doc nodded curtly and left her cubicle. Dael pressed the communication sensor located on the sideboard. “Caydoc to Weniell. Report.”

  “Sir, you’re awake. Thank the Creator.” Commander Weniell sounded equal parts relieved and concerned. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine. I need an update on the status of the crews, our ships, and our location.” She wasn’t in the mood to listen to gushing emotional outbursts at this point.

  “Of course, Admiral. We have extracted all ground personnel. Their reports show signs of the creatures that attacked your team present all over the southern hemisphere. Only the desert-like areas seem to be free of them, but our people could not survive there as nothing grows and the access to water is extremely limited.”

  “The air survey?”

  “All two hundred vessels returned in one piece. They completed the mapping survey and looked at the northern hemisphere, but our geologists have deemed it cannot sustain our people. The bedrock is infused with so many alien metals that the water and the air would need extreme filtering. They said it would be the same as terraforming the environment, which would take too long and they still couldn’t guarantee it would last.”

  “I see.” She was disappointed but not surprised. Just the idea of sharing a world with those venomous rodents made her shudder. “What about Umbahr and his team?”

  “They were stuck on a cliff, down to their last cartridges and ready to jump, when we airlifted them out of there.”

  “So, only one casualty?” Clenching her fists, Dael hugged herself.

  “Yes. We retrieved Ensign Toshian’s body, and after her postmortem, we’ll have the ceremony for her journey to the Creator.” Weniell sounded matter-of-fact, as he usually did when dealing with an emotional topic.

  “Very good. I’ll prepare some words from the command. I need you to talk to her family and friends, let them know they’re welcome to speak at her ceremony. I’ll personally visit with the family tomorrow.” Right now, she’d risk fainting if she stood up for too long.

  “Very good, sir.”

  “Are we still in high orbit with the other ships?” This was one of the things she disliked about the infirmary—no view ports and no screens that showed the stars outside.

  “Yes, sir. I didn’t want to give the order to resume course at magnetar drive until I had a chance to brief you.”

  “I consider myself briefed, Commander. As soon as everyone’s aboard, do take us out and back on our original course. Time to continue our search. This time I’d love a world without lethal rats.”

  “I hear you, sir. I’ll start the countdown protocol to magnetar drive.”

  “Keep me informed. I’ll be in my quarters once I get out of the infirmary.” With a nod, Dael accepted the clothes a nurse brought her. “Caydoc out.” She turned to the nurse. “Thank you. As a matter of fact, I may need assistance with putting on the pants, as just tipping my head forward is making me dizzy.” It pained her to admit it, but she couldn’t disregard the truth.

  “Does the doc know, sir?” The nurse—Dael checked her nametag—Lieutenant Mohey, looked concerned. “Your scan showed concussion but no intracranial bleeding. Yet,” she added sternly.

  “The doc is aware of how I’m doing and we have an agreement,” Dael replied, bending the truth just a tad. She hadn’t said anything about how dizzy she was.

  “Very well. Let me help you.” Lieutenant Mohey assisted Dael with her underwear, trousers, and soft boots, which made her feel self-conscious, but she tried to disregard her reaction.

  “Thank you,” Dael murmured as she pulled on the velvety wool shirt.

  “You’re welcome, sir. Here are the painkillers. The doc was adamant I watch you take them.”

  “No doubt he made you promise to shove them down my throat if I didn’t cooperate.” Dael took the tablets and downed them dry.

  “Not in those exact words, but fairly close, yes.” Lieutenant Mohey actually smiled, which transformed her narrow face completely. Looking mischievous, she nodded approvingly. “I can now let you go, if reluctantly, as I’m the one tasked with knocking on your door four times tonight. Unless you have someone who can stay with you? Perhaps you can stay at your grandmother’s?”

  “Oh, no. She has caregivers in her quarters around the clock. I’d never get any rest. I’ll just have to live with the fact that you’ll tiptoe inside. When you come the first time, I’ll give you a temporary access code so I don’t have to let you in.”

  Lieutenant Mohey looked astonished. “Really? That’s most accommodating. Thank you.”

  “See you later, then.” Dael nodded politely and walked out of the infirmary with a sigh of relief. Not having to smell any more disinfectant or listen to hissing ventilators was enough to make her headache lessen. As she entered her quarters a few minutes later, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes. She intended to get something to drink, then just sit in her favorite chair, one of the few items she’d brought from her house on Oconodos, and perhaps read, if her head allowed it.

  “Caydoc to bridge.” She knew she was normally better at delegating, but this last turn of events had made her uncertain.

  “Weniell here, sir. What can I do for you?”r />
  “Just checking in. I’m in my quarters now and fully expect you to include me in any hails if something is amiss. Just making sure you understood that.” She could picture her staff wanting to protect her, but she would have none of that.

  “Aye, sir. Understood.”

  “Very well. Smooth sailing, Commander. Caydoc out.” She fetched a glass of mayana juice and sat down in her chair. A deep sigh later, she placed her glass on the table next to her and then fell back asleep.

  *

  Spinner ran along the corridor, sending people scurrying to the side in order to avoid her. “Thanks! Sorry.” She waved her hand in the air, hoping the people she’d nearly trampled this time saw the apologetic gesture. Enough adrenaline pumped through her body and enough images of hissing, toxin-spraying rats ran through her mind to last her a lifetime. Which she prayed to the Creator they wouldn’t. Nor the images of an injured Dael, lying vulnerable and immobile on the ground in the path of said rats.

  Increasing her speed, Spinner was well aware she could run laps around the Espies Major until she fell down from sheer fatigue, but she wouldn’t forget how seeing Dael in that position had made her feel. Why would she fret so over her commanding officer? As she’d never mixed business and pleasure before, she honestly couldn’t imagine why her heart was aching the way it did right now. Or had been hurting, for quite some time, as it were.

  Groaning, she turned a corner and nearly ended up in Helden Caydoc’s lap. The woman merely smiled brightly as Spinner righted herself at the last moment. “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t—”

  “See where you were going?” Helden said helpfully. “I could tell. You looked like you were in a hurry.”

  “No, well, I suppose.” Trying to catch her breath, she placed one hand against the bulkhead and steadied herself. “I think better when I run. Sort of.”

  “Ah. I’ve been to check on Dael, as she refused to stay in my quarters.”

  “She’s not in the infirmary?” Spinner’s hand slipped, making her have to take a step sideways.

  “I knew she wouldn’t stay there for long.” Helden Caydoc frowned. “You look a bit weary. You should come for one of Minna’s herbal teas. How does that sound?”

  Spinner hesitated. She was dying to know how Dael was doing, and she couldn’t just pop in on the admiral and ask. Thinking fast, she saw her chance at some information from a knowledgeable source. “I’d love to. But I do want to grab a shower first, if that’s all right.”

  “Certainly. That’ll give us time to get sorted when we get back.” Helden Caydoc waved with her good hand as her caregiver guided the chair along the crowded corridor.

  As Spinner hurried back to her quarters, her mind was reeling. She remembered vividly how Helden had asked her about her mother, torn at her carefully constructed defenses with accomplished ease. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely safe to join such a woman for some tea. Regardless of that, Spinner would risk having personal questions directed her way if she could get some reassuring information regarding Dael. More than that, she needed to talk to Helden Caydoc, who cared about Dael personally. Perhaps she could even hint at her own feelings, even if part of her thought that was an even worse idea. She had such an urge to have someone to talk to about the dance, the kiss, and knew absolutely nobody else she could trust.

  *

  Somehow it took Spinner only a few minutes to reach Helden Caydoc’s quarters after she’d showered and donned her clothes. Before she could second-guess her decision, she rang the door chime. Quick steps inside revealed the presence of one or more of the caregivers.

  Minna smiled warmly. “Hello, Commander.”

  “Spinner, please.”

  “Spinner.” Helden emerged from the adjacent room. “Come in, come in.” She waved with her good hand. “You look like a different person in the leisure suit, be it military issue or not. I just got paged regarding the senior condola tournament, which I’m hoping to win, of course.”

  “A condola tournament?” Wasn’t Helden reluctant to entertain the other senior passengers, or had she misunderstood Dael? As for playing condola, which was a board game for people with a talent for math and logic, it was probably something Helden excelled in.

  “Yes, as it turned out, the other people here approaching my age have all sorts of interesting backgrounds, and it’s clear they’re no more interested in basket weaving or crocheting scarves than I am.” Helden grinned. “So, after a short discussion, we decided to challenge each other to a condola tournament. As it turns out, Ensign Umbahr’s grandmother used to play professionally, which I realize might become a challenge, but there’s no dishonor in losing to such a brilliant mind.” She studied Spinner closely, tilting her head in a way achingly reminiscent of Dael. “Now, enough about my extracurricular activities. I suppose you’re here to inquire about Dael?”

  “Um, this might be a really bad idea, and I wouldn’t want to cause any sort of conflict of interest or—” Realizing her nerves were making her babble, Spinner just stood there, feeling utterly foolish.

  “Why don’t you sit down? The tea’s brewing and we have time for a chat.”

  Relieved, if still jittery, Spinner sat on the two-seat couch and watched Helden adjust her chair until she was comfortable. Her affected hand was twitching, something Spinner hadn’t noticed before. “Are you all right?”

  Helden followed her gaze. “Oh, you mean, my hand? It does that sometimes when I’ve overextended myself a bit. Today was stressful until I had good news about Dael. As she’s safe and reasonably sound, I don’t mind a bit of spasticity. Now, let’s focus on you.”

  Taking a deep breath, Spinner dug deep inside for courage. “When it comes to your granddaughter, I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”

  Helden didn’t say anything, only nodded.

  “When you say today was stressful, that’s just for starters. I pictured her dying in several different ways, and when we finally were faced with the poisonous rodents, and I was sure neither Dael nor I would survive, all I could think about was…the dance.”

  Helden blinked. “The dance? Excuse me? I might be getting older than I thought. I thought you said dance.” She tipped her head to the side.

  “I meant, the dance during the large party we had aboard the ships.”

  “Ah, yes. Now I understand. I didn’t do much dancing myself, so that’s why I didn’t make the connection.” Helden seemed quite relieved, which would have been humorous at any other time. She motioned for Spinner to continue.

  “Yes, everybody was partying with family and friends, and don’t get me wrong. I do have friends aboard the Espies Major, but I really felt lonely that evening as I’m one of the few who doesn’t have a family member aboard.”

  “I can certainly understand that.”

  “So, today, when I thought I might never get a chance to talk to Dael ever again, yeah, that was stressful.”

  “And now you feel comfortable talking to me? That’s flattering and quite the turnaround from when I showed up at your quarters unannounced.” Helden was nothing if not direct. Her light-blue eyes were youthfully clear, and Spinner could see how her gaze could easily turn steely and commanding.

  “I know. I never meant to be rude, but you caught me off guard that time.” Spinner realized it was easy to be just as direct back. “And I’m still not ready to discuss my mother or my childhood. What I need, no, must talk about, before I implode, is that I danced with Dael.”

  Helden’s lips formed a silent “O.” “You and Dael danced, you say? That night?” Her eyes began to glitter.

  “Yes. Two dances. I’m not sure that was so smart.”

  “If that’s what you think now, I take it you felt something then.” It wasn’t a question, and Helden didn’t seem appalled or by any means disapproving. Spinner wasn’t sure why she thought Helden would be, just that she’d worried about it while walking over here. Perhaps very few things ever got to this woman, except of course when her granddaughter was injured.<
br />
  “I did. I did feel something.”

  “And Dael?”

  “I don’t know. I think she enjoyed it. The slow dance was, I mean, it felt intimate, but I’m bad at reading stuff like this. I felt weird. You know. Funny-weird.”

  Now Helden smiled, a mild and friendly smile that didn’t make fun of Spinner’s words or feelings. “Feeling weird while slow-dancing with my granddaughter. I take it that it was weird in a good way?”

  “Mostly.”

  “What part wasn’t?”

  Spinner cleared her throat. “The one where I apologized for potentially compromising the chain of command by not being good for her reputation among the crew.”

  “Oh. Well, I can see where that wouldn’t go down well.” Helden smiled wryly. “And besides, my granddaughter thinks very highly of you. I personally can’t see how anything about you would harm her command.”

  “She said something like that in her own caustic way.”

  “Ah.”

  “And then we somehow salvaged the evening and she kissed my cheek before she went back to mingling.” The last words came out so hoarsely she had to cough to clear her voice. This was probably a huge mistake, but saying it out loud to someone, and especially someone who listened so very intently, made it real, even after all this time.

  “Now, you realize, both these things are not something Dael would normally do. She’s not much for dancing, even if I’ve always claimed it came naturally to her. She’s not a very tactile person, unless it’s personal. That should speak volumes too, I think.” Tapping her lower lip, Helden looked pensive, as if filing all this information away for future reference.

  Stunned at these revelations, Spinner’s mind whirled. Her belly warmed slowly and the fluttering there stopped causing nausea. Dael didn’t usually let anyone in like this—according to her grandmother. Of course, Helden wasn’t privy to all aspects to Dael’s life, but Spinner still thought she had her granddaughter pegged overall. It was rather indicative that both she and Dael had withdrawn from each other after the party. Maybe not for the same exact reason, but with the same outcome. Emotional introverts.