by S. H. Jucha
“Are you speaking of my captain, Commandant? If so, I respectfully request that you refer to her as such.”
“Fine. Let me speak to your captain.”
“I can’t, Commandant. The captain is under sedation. She was nearly asphyxiated from the damage done to her throat from Terror’s shock stick.”
“I’ll thank you to refer to the corporal properly.”
“I’ve already had the pleasure of being on the nasty end of the corporal’s brand of justice, Commandant, if you’ll recall. I believe I can speak from experience about that little sociopath. And, because you’ve done nothing but protect him, despite the numerous complaints, I’ll be advising the captain to have the Review Board prosecute Corporal McKenzie under the Captain’s Articles. I’m sure that the Board will take a different view than you of security officers who attack standing captains. Now, is there anything I can help you with, Commandant?”
“No, Mr. Bassiter.”
“Well, Commandant, I’ll be sure to let Captain Harbour know that you called and didn’t ask about her condition after your officer’s vicious and unprovoked assault. Good day, sir.” Dingles retracted the comm screen. He heard a throat clear, and turned his head. The four empaths stood behind him. “Did you ladies need something?” he asked, still in a huff over the commandant’s call.
“No, no,” Nadine replied.
The adults walked past him, and Sasha threw him a huge grin. He was inundated by waves of appreciation, as they passed, and Sasha’s ministrations painted a smile on his face that lasted for the next half hour.
Dingles’ first call to the crew announced the captain’s condition and that he was assuming command. “Make no mistake, spacers, we’ll be launching this big lady as scheduled, if not before. Lend support to Danny to expedite the remaining residents who must still leave the ship.”
Throughout the rest of the day and into the night, crews loaded and unloaded passengers and their belongings. Word spread about Harbour’s attack and about Sasha’s retaliation on a security officer. It left many residents, those leaving and those staying, uncertain as to the better place to be, aboard the Belle or the JOS, when the authorities got involved.
At 06:30 hours the following morning, Dingles ordered engineering to provide thrust to the primary engines and nodded to the newly hired pilot seated next to him, who activated the plot Dingles had locked into the navigation computer. For an hour, everyone held their collective breath, as the ship got underway. Soon afterward, the empaths perceived a collective sigh from the individuals aboard.
Dingles stayed in touch with Danny, during the shuttle’s every trip. The two were counting down the number of passengers still to haul and the time to accomplish the process. For Danny, the trips after the Belle’s launch got shorter and shorter. At its closest point, the colony ship would pass within 30 kilometers of the JOS, far closer than its usual station at 125 kilometers.
As Dingles expected, Harbour’s comm unit chimed about the time the Belle had moved far enough to be noticed by JOS Control.
“Are you experiencing engine problems, Captain Harbour?” a voice said, when Dingles accepted the call.
“Negative, JOS Control. This is Acting Captain Mitch Bassiter. We’re moving the Honora Belle, letting the old lady stretch her legs, as it were.”
“You’re kidding,” the voice replied. “I mean, where are you going?”
“It’s a big universe out there. We haven’t made up our minds yet, but there’s time to figure that out. Have a good day, Control,” Dingles replied, and shut down the call. He shared grins and chuckles with the crew on the Belle’s bridge. Retired spacers all, they were once again doing what they loved, getting their ship underway, and heading into the unknown.
Hours after the primary engines’ initial thrust, the colony ship approached its shortest distance to the JOS. Dingles would have laughed if he knew the patrons of the Starlight halted the enjoyment of their breakfasts, stunned to watch the Belle pass their immense plate windows.
“Dingles, Danny here.”
Dingles swapped Harbour’s comm unit for his. “Go, Danny.”
“I’m on my way back to you, but I’ve one more run to make. Arlene had some special last-minute requests, and I thought it better to satisfy them rather than have her make a fuss.”
“Good thinking on that point.”
“It’ll take me about two and a half hours to move the last twelve residents, longer if I take time to refuel. I need a vector and intercept point for the Belle to determine if I can get by without taking the time to top off my tanks.”
“One minute, Danny, let me get to a monitor and run some calculations.” Dingles accessed the monitor in his cabin. It was closest. He linked his comm unit into the display, pulled up the Belle’s navigation plot, marked her present position, and projected a series of points along the path at two, two and a half, and three hours. “I sent the plot and three time marks to your comm unit, Danny.”
“I’ve got them. Oh, I forgot how slowly that ship accelerates. I’ll have no trouble catching you, unless I get another odd request.”
“Negative on that, Danny. Don’t accept any unusual requests. They go as they signed up or they don’t go. It’s not like I can hit the brakes on this ship, and I have my reasons for not bringing the Belle to rest. Understood?”
“Aye, Captain,” Danny replied.
Dingles closed the comm unit. “Hmm, imagine that … Captain Dingles,” he whispered, in the privacy of his cabin.
Dingles’ final incoming call on Harbour’s comm unit, before the Belle passed the station, originated from the commandant again. Dingles sighed and accepted the call.
“Acting Captain Bassiter here, Commandant.”
“I’m sending Major Finian in a shuttle to collect Harbour, if she’s able to travel, and, if not, he’s ordered to collect her statement before he leaves the ship.”
“Captain Harbour,” Dingles said forcefully, “is still in medical and unable to communicate.”
“Major Finian will need to confirm that for himself.”
“If you’re intent on having the captain land aboard this ship and wait until Captain Harbour is able to speak, does he intend to ride along with us for the duration?”
“I’m ordering you to halt your ship, while we settle this matter.”
“One moment, Commandant,” Dingles replied. He made a second call, connecting with Henry Stamerson, head of the Review Board. “Captain Stamerson, you’re joining a conversation with Commandant Strattleford and me. I’m Mitch Bassiter, acting captain of the Belle, while Captain Harbour is indisposed.
“I heard of Captain Harbour’s attack. Bad business that. Please give her my wishes for a speedy recovery.”
“I’ll do that, Captain Stamerson,” Dingles replied, and patched the two calls together.
“Thank you for your time, Captain Stamerson,” Dingles said. “There seems to be a point that needs clarifying, and because you’re knowledgeable about the Captain’s Articles, I’m seeking your opinion.”
“Pleased to help, Captain, if I can.”
“Captain Stamerson, the commandant is ordering the Belle, which is underway, to halt so that he can have Major Finian board the ship and speak with Captain Harbour once she recovers her voice.”
“Commandant, is Captain Harbour considered a fugitive from justice? In other words, have you issued a warrant for her arrest?”
“Not at this time, Captain. We’re simply trying to ascertain the details of the event that transpired aboard the JOS.”
“I see, Commandant. Well, the Articles are clear. The Belle is not docked at the JOS and is underway, and you have no lawful means of directing the acting captain to defer to your requests. He’s free to do as he chooses.”
“Thank you for your advice, Captain Stamerson,” Dingles said.
“Glad to be of service,” Henry said, closing the call. “Spacers,” he murmured, “I do love them.”
“I believe you have y
our answer, Commandant. Although, I could have told you the same thing, I thought it better that you hear it from an experienced captain. I think you should study up on the Articles. I have a feeling that you’ll need to know them by heart in the future. A good day to you, sir,” Dingles said, closing the call.
* * *
Sergeant Cecilia Lindstrom received a message from the acting captain of the Belle minutes before she was due to take a lunch break. But, after reading the request, Cecilia decided to enter the lengthy information immediately, chuckling as she did.
Since the arrest and conviction of Markos and Giorgio, in which she played a significant role, Cecilia had detected a slowly growing undercurrent of dissatisfaction against the status quo. The Belle, suddenly underway, seemed to herald a new level of revolt, and Cecilia experienced a thrill, as she posted the message, feeling she was breathing life into a rebellion.
The Miners’ Pit was packed full for lunch, which was the usual case. On the wall opposite the bar, hung the Pit’s largest monitor, which displayed something as seemingly mundane as the Ships List. That was, of course, if you weren’t a spacer. Knowing a ship’s disposition and haul kept the spacers connected, especially for the retirees.
“Look,” yelled a patron, pointing to the Ships List.
As the data scrolled up on the monitor, the Ships List displayed a new entry. As a new addition to the roll, the Honora Belle received premier status by an enumeration of its stats. The first line after the ship’s name listed Captain Harbour, and the spacers cheered loudly, but the cantina quieted when Mitch Bassiter was named first mate.
“It’s Dingles, you fools!” Maggie yelled, and the crowd broke out into raucous applause and whistles.
Line after line detailed the ship’s capacities, engine types, count of crew and passengers, and a never-seen-before line totaling the number of empaths aboard.
The monitor continued to scroll data, revealing information about the colony ship, and the room quieted. The spacers waited for the last piece of information. It would inform them of the ship’s destination. Finally, it rolled into view. There was one word: Triton.
The stunned silence lasted for about three seconds. Then the entire room erupted in celebration. Drinks were spilt and food plates hit the floor, as spacers thumped one another’s backs and hugged. For once, Maggie didn’t care about the mess, and she kissed more than one craggy face.
* * *
The Belle left the JOS behind and headed on an interception course for Triton. All departments reported to Dingles that performance was within specifications, and Danny had landed aboard the ship, catching it about 260 kilometers out from the JOS. Dingles felt he’d cleared every obstacle. He checked in on Harbour, only to receive the same message he’d received the hour before and the hour before that.
In his cabin, Dingles placed his last call before he grabbed a meal break with many of the department heads.
“Dingles calling the Spryte for Captain Cinders.”
“Ituau here, Dingles. The captain’s not available. He’s on some downtime. Seems to need more sleep lately after having been rescued from the alien installation.”
“What did you bunch of retread spacers do? Leave him downside when you launched the shuttle?” Dingles asked, laughing.
“It started when a tech activated the site and trapped the captain and some crew inside an alien dome. Those aliens know how to make a really pretty field. Impenetrable too! Wish we could do something like that.”
“I’m waiting for the part where you tell me you’re joking, Ituau.”
“I wish I were, Dingles. The whole thing scared me to death. I thought we’d lost the captain and some good friends. We took half a day getting rescue resources to them. And, you won’t believe this. The rescue team finds our people asleep on this pristine metal deck, all the dust blown away. Their vac suits were off, Dingles. They were breathing air inside this blue energy field.”
Ituau waited for a comment from Dingles. When she heard nothing, she added, “Yeah, that’s about how I felt when I got the word.”
“Why and how would the alien installation provide a mixture of gases that suited humans?”
“Oh, trust me, Dingles, the story gets much weirder than that. But, before we get too far off track, why isn’t Captain Harbour making this call?”
“The captain has been injured, and she’s sedated in medical, while she recovers.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
“She has a badly bruised throat, courtesy of Terror.”
Ituau swore and said, “I should have killed that little piece of effluent when …”
“When you gave him his comeuppance for beating on me?”
“I’m not admitting to anything,” Ituau said coolly.
“You don’t have to, Ituau, but thanks anyway.”
“I hate to hear that Terror has added another spacer’s beating to his harness.”
“I think Terror’s reign is over, if you’ll pardon my pun.”
Ituau laughed. “Dingles, you’ve been hanging out with the smart ones so long, you’re starting to talk like them. So why is Terror done for?”
“The corporal put the captain on the deck, but he didn’t know little Sasha was coming behind the captain. She’s one powerful empath. Sasha got scared, thinking Terror killed the captain.”
“Why does this sound familiar, especially since we’re talking about sisters?”
“Right, I know. Maybe it’s time for normals to be a lot nicer to empaths. They’re getting to the point where they can protect themselves. In the corporal’s case, word is that he’s locked in a medical cell. Seems he prefers it that way. They gave him a soft rod, shaped like his shock stick, and he points it at anyone who enters his cell, and he doesn’t speak intelligently anymore, just gibbers.”
“Does this mean you’re frightened of Sasha?”
“Are you frightened of Aurelia?”
“No, are you kidding?”
“There you go, Ituau. Except for their exceptional capabilities, they’re people, just like us. They want to be treated well, like we all do. Just don’t make the mistake of abusing them. They don’t like that.”
“Copy that, Dingles. What’s the message for the captain?”
“We’ve launched the Belle and cleared the JOS. We’ll be taking up station beside your ships in twenty-six days.”
“You do remember how to navigate, Dingles? I wouldn’t want you missing Triton and heading for the outer planets.”
“Sure, Ituau, I point the ship at something like the Spryte, and we drive our ship until we hit what we’re aiming at. It’s simple.”
Ituau broke up. “Looking forward to seeing you again, you old space dog.”
“Me too, Ituau, the first drink’s on me. I can’t wait to hear what happened at the alien site.”
“First drink’s on you? Yeah, right, like we have alcohol on the captain’s ships.”
“You don’t, Ituau, but we do. You aren’t the only one with stories to tell. See you in less than a month. The Belle out.”
-34-
Recovery
Sasha’s initial days aboard the Belle, after Harbour entered medical, were tough for the eleven year old. She blamed herself for dawdling at the storefront to admire the decorative items. Stupid girl, she often thought. She found temporary comfort in the arms of her mother, but that soon proved inadequate for her searching mind.
Days after Sasha found emotional equilibrium, she had a conversation with Helena that her mother recognized marked the transition of her daughter from a girl to an independent-minded young woman.
“We’re going to see Aurelia,” Sasha said, while making the green that Harbour taught her. Helena occasionally consumed one during the day to enjoy Sasha’s company, while her daughter drank one, but she didn’t care for the mixture, and Sasha could read her mother’s distaste. However, Sasha craved the drink, which revitalized her, leading her to make three or four greens for herself every day.
“I can read Harbour when we talk about Aurelia. She’s good at protecting her emotions, but, when we talk about Captain Cinders, her control slips. Then when I mention Aurelia, I get more impressions. I think Aurelia is with Captain Cinders, which means she’s on Triton.”
“Does Harbour know that you can pick up on her emotions when she relaxes with you?”
“We’ve never talked about it, but I think she knows and doesn’t care. I think we both realize that one day I’ll be as strong as her, maybe stronger.”
Helena did her best to hide her worry from her daughter, but Sasha’s next statement showed that she’d failed.
“Don’t worry, mother. Aurelia and I will be okay. I met Captain Cinders, who I believe is protecting Aurelia, and Harbour is protecting us. No one is ever going to hurt us again.”
When Sasha finished her drink, she rinsed her glass, kissed her mother on the forehead, and left the cabin. She was headed for Lindsey’s cabin. Before Sasha approached the hatch, she stopped, relaxed, and calmed herself. The object of the exercise was to curtail every ounce of emotional leakage. When Sasha thought she had control, she walked slowly to Lindsey’s cabin door and raised her small fist to tap on the door.
“Come in, Sasha,” came Lindsey’s voice from inside.
“Again?” Sasha asked, as she entered. She acted annoyed, but she was glowing with love for the woman she’d adopted as her grandmother, and Lindsey basked in the feeling.
“You did well, child. I didn’t pick you up until you were at the door.”
“And what did you receive?”
“Excitement.”
“And why would I be excited to visit an old woman.”
“I have no idea. Why would you?”
Sasha didn’t respond. Instead, she walked into the tiny kitchen, wrapped her arms around Lindsey’s waist, and held her tight. Lindsey laid her chin on top of Sasha’s luxuriant head of hair. The two held each other and communed as only empaths could.
