by Tony Healey
Gentry walked to the viewport and looked out. Whether he truly saw anything was, in Jessica's opinion, open to debate. "I, uh, I don't think I will fare well in prison. Or, heaven forbid . . . a penal colony."
"That won't happen," Jessica said. "I take full responsibility. You're all acting under orders."
"You do?" Gentry asked, turning back around to face her. "We are?"
She nodded. "Yes. I would never let you all take the fall for this. But it had to be done. I must know what's going on."
Gentry visibly calmed before her eyes. He relaxed. The man's shoulders slumped, his eyes looked less strained. A little colour returned. "I don't feel any shame in telling you I am relieved."
"Well, I'm glad. I wondered why you were hiding in here. I started to think you might not be aboard at all," Jessica said. "And I wouldn't have blamed you for jumping ship at the last second. Everyone's here through their own choice."
Gentry retrieved a data tablet. He handed it to her. "I choose to be here, Captain King. I do."
She thanked him for the tablet. "What's on it?"
"The file on Doctor Kingston. I found a connection in there with a member of this crew, too," Gentry said. He settled in a chair and looked about ready to drop.
"Who?"
"Our own Doctor Clayton. By the looks of things, they both know each other," Gentry said.
They know each other? Why hasn't Clayton said anything?
"I'm afraid that's all I can get for now," Gentry told her, his voice sluggish. His eyelids looked heavy, as if he struggled to keep his eyes open. "I've reached the end of all available data. The rest is, as you know, quite classified."
"Thank you," Jessica said. "Doctor, exactly how many sedatives did you take?"
But Dr. Gentry was already asleep, and he did indeed appear exhausted.
I suppose he's been going through every file he could find. Remarkable we have what data we have, considering the majority is classified information. They obviously didn't count on someone like Gentry coming along and picking out every detail . . .
She left without another word. The Doctor reminded her of someone who could piece together a puzzle after all the pieces had been scattered. To a normal person, without a visual guide to put the puzzle back together, the task would be near impossible. But for Gentry, such a challenge was the whole point in attempting the puzzle in the first place.
Jessica walked along the corridor, tablet in her hand. Must be why he likes hunting for Namarian artefacts. It's like a puzzle, only it happens to be thousands of years old. To Gentry, putting that one back together must be a dream come true.
*
She found Clayton in the sickbay, shutting the equipment down. If need be, the bay could used for a medical emergency, but for now it sat in darkness.
"Ah, Jess," he said. "I was just closing shop."
She tapped the tablet in her hand. "I have something to ask you, before you do."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"
She led him into his small office and sat down. He sat opposite. "Doctor, what do you know about Doctor Kingston?"
He shrugged. "Only what I've been told already. Why? What's this all about, Jess?"
Jessica sat forward. "There's a definite connection in the files Gentry has compiled. So I will ask again, Doctor . . . how do you know Kingston? And why have you kept it from me?"
Clayton sighed. He ran a hand over his face. The whole ship seemed impossibly quiet around them. The sickbay was shrouded in darkness beyond the glass of the office. "I swore not to say."
"Doctor, I am ordering you to tell me."
"I can't," he said. "I don't want to be the one to tell you."
Jessica jabbed a finger in his direction. She felt red hot anger bubble up inside her. "Tell me right now!"
Clayton held his hands up defensively. "All right, all right. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Jessica relaxed. She sat back. "Doc, what's the big secret? What are you hiding?"
"I'll tell you. You may not believe me, but what the hell. You wanna know so bad, here it is," he said.
Then he told her.
19.
Stop. Start. Stop. Start.
Kyle Banks initiated the Jump again, sending them hurtling in a new direction. They'd maintain that course and speed for the next half hour, then exit the Jump and turn back.
And that should be it, he thought. Enough of this back and forth nonsense. On with what we've gotta do.
"Ain't we done this already?" Hawk asked. The Texan let loose a mighty yawn that reminded Banks of a lion showing his jaws.
"You can say that again," Banks said. "Thankfully, this is the last time. We can circle back, then continue on our way."
Hawk shook his head. "I guess we gotta cover our tracks more than normal."
"Yeah. The only trouble is, all the time we're out here doubling back on ourselves, Union ships are looking for us. Pinpointing our probable location."
Hawk slapped him on the shoulder. "Have a little faith, kid. We'll do all right."
If we get back on course before they get here. And if this works. In theory the criss-crossed patterns should prove indecipherable to them. We'll have given them an endless choice of directions to choose from, meanwhile the Defiant will be on her way. If only I shared his optimism.
"You don't get nervous, do you?" Banks asked him.
Hawk kicked back, one foot up on the edge of the helm console, hands behind his head. "Nah."
"I guess you're too old for that, aren't you?"
The Texan grinned. "Good one, kiddo," he said with a chuckle.
Banks checked his readouts. Looked ahead. Checked them again.
Start. Stop. Start. Stop.
20.
Jessica stormed into the Officers' Mess, only to find the best she could rustle up from the canteen area was a cup of tea and a premade sandwich.
"Poor pickings, isn't it?" a voice said behind her.
Jessica jumped. "Who –?"
Her eyes fell on Selena Walker at the other end of the mess, an empty cup in front of her. The room was dark and from where Selena sat she had an awe-inspiring view of the cosmos as it flashed past.
"I, uh, I didn't think anyone was in here," Jessica said. She sat at a table nearby.
"Sorry, I should've said when you walked in," Walker said. "By the way, hope you don't mind me prying, but . . . are you okay?"
"Yeah why?"
"Only, the way you came in," Selena said. "I could be wrong, but it looked like you were upset about something."
Jessica sighed. "It's nothing. Don't worry."
It felt a great deal more than nothing, but there was no way she was ready to tell Walker about it. Nor anyone else for that matter. If she'd had the opportunity, Jessica would have happily forgotten all about it entirely.
But there it was. Clayton's words, rattling around. Bouncing off the walls of her skull, showing no signs of fading away. Of melting into the background where they belonged.
No, we're here to stay.
"How about you? Been sitting in here long?"
Selena shook her head. "No, I just thought I'd grab five minutes peace. I like looking out, watching the stars swim by. It's relaxing."
Jessica looked to the side. Out there, the galaxy flew past. Stars and planets, strewn through the mysterious darkness like grains of salt over a black tablecloth.
"I know what you mean," she said.
Selena looked at her timepiece. "I'd better go. Check on Hawk."
Jessica sipped her tea. "Once I'm done here, I'll be up to relieve the two of them."
Selena got up. She stopped by Jessica's table. "I'll leave you in peace. Do you want the lights off?"
Jessica shook her head. "It's fine how it is. Thanks anyway."
Walker left the mess hall. Jessica attempted to eat her sandwich, but found it stale and tasteless. She left it to one side, drank her tea, and continued to watch everything fly past outside. It had a relaxing effect. As if all of
your worries, fears, concerns, and problems rendered trivial in the face of such enormity. It made you feel small, insignificant next to the sheer scale of the universe.
Somehow, that realisation allowed her to put Clayton's news into perspective. It still hurt, and it had still rocker her to her core . . . but the edge had diminished.
I guess what seems like the noises of our lives are just whispers in the temple, Jessica thought. Whispers in the temple.
21.
Chang slipped on a fresh vest, then pulled a clean uniform tunic from the hanger in the closet.
"Do we still have to wear uniform? Really?" Rayne asked. She stood in the doorway to the head, wrapped only in a towel, hair dripping wet.
"The Captain didn't say otherwise," Chang said. "I have to assume it's business as usual."
"I suppose," Rayne said. She sat on the edge of the bed. "So you're going up there now?"
"Yeah," Chang said. "Yourself?"
Rayne shrugged. "I guess I'll get a nap in. Will she be all right with that?"
"Of course. She wants everyone to relax while they can," Chang said. She gave Olivia a kiss on the cheek. Soft and tender. "The ship's mostly automated at the moment. Besides, I think she really appreciates that we all came along."
"So she should," Rayne said. "Doesn't matter what she says, we're still putting our necks on the line."
Chang stood with her hands on her hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Look, I'd never argue with the Captain. I'll follow her wherever, down a black hole if need be . . . but at the end of the day, whatever she says about taking the blame, questions will still be asked. That's if they don't shoot us from the sky first."
"If they can catch up with us," Chang said.
"No, when they catch up. Don't be naive."
Chang walked to the door. "I'd better go."
"Lisa?"
She turned back. "Yeah?"
"Love you."
Chang smiled. "I love you too. Get some rest. We'll probably be needing it."
22.
When she got to the Command Deck, Chang found Captain King had already dismissed both Banks and Hawk. She sat at the helm console, observing the ship functions. "Ah, Lisa," she said, looking up as Chang walked in.
"They've gone already?"
"I thought I'd be okay up here on my own for fifteen minutes," Jessica said. "Anyway, they've done the hard part already. All we've got to do is make sure she flies straight."
"Oh, well," Chang said. She took up a seat next to her at the helm. "We should be in for an easy couple of hours."
Jessica crossed her fingers, held them up. "All digits crossed, please."
"Yes Ma'am," Chang said with a grin.
The Defiant purred underfoot. "You know, I don't often think back to old operations, old missions. But I have to admit I've been thinking about the Sun Hammer a lot since Gentry pointed out the connection."
"Really?"
"Well in all fairness, it's never been the easiest of the lot for me to forget," Jessica said. "You were there. It must be the same for you, right?"
"Oh yeah, sure. It's pretty hard to put something like that to the back of your mind," Chang said.
"I used to wonder how we ever conceived of such a device," Jessica said. "And now we know. It all circles back."
Chang regarded her for a moment. "Captain . . . are you okay?"
"Yes, of course," Jessica said. "I'm just a little tired, to tell the truth."
"Feeling the strain."
"Something like that, yes."
Captain King checked several of the readouts, eyes scanning over the displays to see there were no sudden surprises. Nothing out of place. All systems checked out.
"We orbit the past . . ." she said, looking up at the viewscreen, her gaze distant. "It comes back around, over and over again. Sometimes it feels like you can never escape it. And you’re right. You can't."
"I remember when that happened," Chang said. She looked down at the helm console. At all the flashing lights. "I used to think I'd never sleep again after seeing that. But you know, eventually you do. And it's a sounder sleep than any you've ever known."
Jessica smiled weakly. "That's poetic."
"I mean to say I think you find a way of putting it out of your mind," Chang said. "That's what I did. Forgot about it."
"Until now," Jessica said.
"Yeah. Till now," Chang said.
Jessica looked across. "How long till we cross the Kaseem Ring?"
The Kaseem Ring was a systemwide barrier of dust and ice particles they would have to cross before reaching Zac'u IX. It meant slightly slower speeds and minute course corrections.
"Six hours," Chang said.
A long time to think about things, Jessica thought.
*
Dr. Clayton sat in the gloom of his office, feet up on his desk. He sipped scotch from a tumbler and relished the burn. He closed his eyes.
I never expected it to go like that, he thought, revisiting his conversation with the Captain earlier. But she had to know. I had to tell her.
She had asked him how he could keep such a thing from her. How he could keep it a secret all those years, and Clayton had found himself unable to answer her. Not right then, not with anything she would understand.
She's angry. Everything will sort itself out, he assured himself. Once we get there, she can ask her questions for herself.
He opened his eyes. Drank some more scotch. It caught in his throat and he coughed, bent forward on his chair till it passed. "Damn," he croaked.
The ship felt so empty, so devoid of life. The steady rhythm of the vessel around him was the only indicator they were going anywhere.
With every minute, we get closer. What must she be thinking? What must she be feeling?
He looked down at the glass in his hand. Empty. Time for another.
23.
"I couldn't stop thinking about what the Sun Hammer was capable of," Jessica admitted. "And to have that kind of power at our disposal. It was a terrifying idea, especially after seeing it firsthand."
"Amen," Chang said. "I remember it all clear as day. We were coming back to base. The Captain gave the order. 'Slow to full stop,' he said. Just as he always did."
"The same way every time," Jessica said. "Everyone has their way of doing things, a routine they stick to, regardless of the rules. My Father was no different . . ."
Several Years Earlier . . .
24.
"Slow to full stop," Captain Singh ordered. "Banks, standard docking procedure."
"Aye," First Lieutenant Banks said.
The Captain turned to Commander Jessica King. "Are we good to go?"
She nodded. "Ready when you are, sir."
"Good," Singh said.
Jessica finished up what she’d been doing with Lieutenant Chang, then headed for the exit.
Captain Singh left the command chair and stepped down to the helm. He rested a hand on Lieutenant Banks' shoulder. "You know the protocol. I’ll leave her in your hands."
"Aye Captain," Banks said.
Commander King waited for the Captain at the threshold of the exit. They walked along the adjoining corridor. "Greene has the men ready?"
"Just as you asked," King said. "I’ve gotta say, I still don’t get the skulduggery."
"Neither do I, Jess. But those were the orders. Proceed here at maximum speed, maintain communication silence, and be ready to accept new cargo," Singh recited their directives from command.
"It’s odd," King said.
The Captain shrugged. "Always go on the assumption that you’re the last to know anything."
*
Lieutenant Commander Greene stood waiting by the airlock with four other men.
"Ready to go, Del?" Singh asked him.
"Aye sir," Greene said. "Any idea what it is we’re bringing on board?"
Captain Singh shook his head. "For all I know it could be the Commander in Chief’s birthday cake, a monolith o
f Victoria sponge with jet black frosting."
Jessica chuckled. Singh turned to her, his face deadpan. "You laugh, Commander, but I’ve known stuff like that to happen."
Lieutenant Commander Greene accessed the airlock controls, and they watched the lights turn from red to green. The airlock hissed open, and they walked through the decontamination jets. On the other side, the awaiting station remained silent. Singh had expected to find a welcome party but the reception area was empty.
"Huh?" King asked. "They know we're here."
Captain Singh put his hands on his hips and frowned. "You’d think –"
The door at the other end opened and a whole team of people filed into the reception area, led by an Admiral bearing more decorations than a Christmas tree.
"Attention!" Singh snapped. King, Greene, and the four other officers from the Defiant stood at attention as their Captain strode forward to shake the hand of the approaching Admiral.
"Arthur!" Singh said with a grin as he clasped the older man’s hand.
"Good to see you, Andrew. I wish it were under different circumstances," Admiral Clarke said.
Singh turned to introduce his people. "This is Commander Jessica King, my right hand. Then Lieutenant Commander Del Greene, and Ensigns Garcia, Fox, Holloway, and O’Quinn," he said.
Admiral Clarke shot them a salute. "At ease."
They relaxed a little.
"So, uh, what’s all this about, Arthur?" Captain Singh asked.
"Walk with me. Bring the Commander along, too," Admiral Clarke said. He led them past the entourage that had followed him into the reception area. The Admiral stopped to talk to one of the men, then continued.
"That was Rafferty, the commander of the station. I told him to work with your crew in getting the cargo stowed properly in the Defiant's hold," Clarke explained.
"What sort of cargo?" Singh asked.
Clarke looked around, tapped the side of his nose. "Not here."
The station was an older model, all ladders and gangways. Small and compact, it functioned as little more than a whistle stop in deep space. The Admiral moved fast for someone of his age. Andrew Singh and Jessica had to keep up.
