by Jack Castle
A disembodied voice, a British female by the sound of it, echoed within the hall, “Your attention. Your attention, please. Passengers may experience some slight turbulence over the next few hours as we attempt to circumnavigate a very heavy storm. Rest assured, you are all in capable hands. But, we may ask you to return to your cabins very soon. Thank you.”
Now you tell me.
As Henry carefully navigated the room he spotted someone he knew. It was nice to see a familiar face, even one as mean and annoying as Maddie’s. She was sitting at a table with another boy of about the same age. They were laughing. He didn’t think Maddie was capable of laughing. There was something else too. He couldn’t put his finger on it, and it confused him.
Henry had been around female workers before, but he’d never seen a girl like Maddie. Maybe it was the way she smiled, or played with her hair. She should smile more often, he thought to himself. When she smiled, it lit up her whole face, and those around her.
His stomach growled in protest at the delay.
Maddie spotted him and waved him over, “Hey, Harry! Over here.”
Henry pointed to himself and raised his eyebrows in question.
She nodded and yelled, “Yes, you. Who did you think I was talking too?”
As he made his way through the crowd and joined them at the table, she introduced him to the other boy. “Traxx, this is Harvey.”
“Henry,” he corrected immediately, and shook the boy’s offered hand.
Maddie rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
Now that he was up close, Henry thought Traxx actually seemed a few years younger than Maddie.
The boy offered him an easy and generous smile before saying, “Nice to meet you, Henry. How are you getting on?”
“This ship is so huge, I’m afraid I keep getting lost.” Henry held back about his blackouts and waking up not knowing where he was.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Maddie muttered, “Don’t worry; The Dauntless gets smaller every day.”
Under the table, Maddie’s leg shoved out the chair opposite her, so Henry could sit down.
“Thank you,” Henry said, taking it. The velvet tablecloth felt luxurious beneath his fingertips and he didn’t know why, but he dropped the matching cloth napkin into his lap as if it was almost a reflex. This action perplexed him, because the only napkin available to anyone in The Factory was the back of one’s sleeve.
“My, my, aren’t we Mister Manners,” Maddie said, shoveling down a mouthful of dinner roll. While chewing heavily she asked, “So other than a few wrong turns, you’re really doing okay?”
Henry was surprised she cared.
“Well, The Leftenant came by for an inspection this morning.”
“Let me guess…” Traxx cut in. Then holding up a crisp British salute, he said in mock British accent, “A well-made bed creates the appearance of a tidy and pulled-together room.”
Henry’s eyes went wide and he nodded. “That’s right! That’s exactly what she said.”
Traxx and Maddie burst into laughter and for the first time in a long time, Henry started laughing too.
Henry froze. A Gargoyle had suddenly appeared beside him, and Henry dared not move. It was the same grey demon with sharp teeth and razor-like talons who had sniffed him in The Factory earlier.
“Hi there, can I take your order?”
Henry noted the Gargoyle, in addition to wearing a butler’s uniform, was also adorned with a white chef’s hat and was presently carrying a notepad and pencil.
Henry continued to hold perfectly still. “Uh, what’s that?”
“What? Him?” Traxx asked. “That’s Cheeves. He’s the chef.”
Maddie swallowed another half-chewed roll. “Hey Harry, you okay?”
Henry wasn’t sure if Maddie’s concern was genuine or not. “I think I may have peed my pants a little,” he said embarrassed.
Seeing his apprehension she explained, “Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you.”
This time she did seem genuine.
“But… he’s a gargoyle… in a chef’s hat.”
“Uh-huh. Get over it,” Maddie said.
“Would you like to hear about our shpecialthsls?” Cheeves asked.
Henry noted the gargoyle, Cheeves, had a heavy lisp when he talked. He also noted that neither Traxx or Maddie answered him and seemed to go out of their way to ignore him.
Daring to lift his gaze up at the gargoyle in the chef’s hat, Henry began to say, “Uh, okay.”
“NO, DON’T!” Maddie and Traxx yelled simultaneously.
The gargoyle’s eyes went wide as he grinned with pleasure. Both Maddie and Traxx groaned as Cheeves began to recite the day’s specials… “Today we have Cat-burgers sah-served fresh with a si-side order of Calico-Fries, and Cat-Sue Flay.”
“Ugh, now he’ll never leave,” Traxx complained.
Undeterred, Cheeves continued. “Or if you prefer, we ssstill may have some Persssian-ssoup ssserved with Burmese biscuitss and to drink, a Ssiamese sshake.
Henry was beginning to see the pattern. “Wait a minute, you people eat cats?”
Traxx had his face down on the table and Maddie laid hers on her arm. The latter of the two grumped, “Just wait, he’s not done.”
“For dessert, we have Kitty-cakes-sss, Cat-alamode, Calico-pie, Tail-Tea, and my personal favorite, kitten-creampuffs-suss.”
Henry held up a forefinger to stop the gargoyle butler, but he prattled on until finally saying… “Oh, and one more th-th-thing, we’re out of catss.” And with that said, Cheeves began laughing, only it was more like something that was between half-laughter and half-snorting at the same time.
Traxx was the first to speak. “Cheeves, just bring us three specials.”
Holding up a pen in salute, Cheeves responded, “Thhhhrrrrree spa-special-thls, you got it, Masth-ter Traxx.”
Henry watched as the gargoyle waddled off. Amongst all his other peculiarities, the gargoyle was bowlegged when he walked. The fabric of his butler’s uniform was straining against the leg muscles underneath.
Henry shook his head, “I don’t know, but there’s just something I don’t trust about that thing. He really scares me.”
Maddie finished her roll and grabbed another. Before forcing it in, she said half-heartedly, “My dad said Cheeves was like his old German shepherd.” She changed her voice to a deeper octave. “That dog had a heart-a-gold, but if somebody ever threatened the family, he’d kill ‘em.”
Henry chuckled. Smiling he asked, “Where’s your dad now? Is he on board?”
Traxx immediately dropped his own smile and froze.
Maddie returned the roll to her basket. “Listen kid, The Leftenant said we’re heading into a storm front. We should all probably head back to our rooms.”
She grabbed her gear and left.
Traxx got up to leave. “Nice meeting you, Henry,” he said solemnly, and he too departed.
A shadow fell over Henry from behind.
“Here ya go! Three specialthls…” It was Cheeves holding a giant platter filled with plates of delicious smelling food. “Shhaaaayyy… where’d everybody go?”
Henry could have sworn he had only blinked for a second, but when he opened his eyes, everyone else in the galley had vanished.
Henry wasn’t certain what to say. He was about to ask Cheeves what was going on, but even the gargoyle had vanished.
Henry was alone.
Chapter 8
The Leftenant Remembers
As he entered the bridge, Engineer Rick finished off a sandwich he snagged from the galley. The moment he did, he froze; for he had seen a ghost. It was not just any ghost, but the one of his best friend who had been missing nearly three years.
Under any other circumstances, Rick would’ve run over to his friend and bear-hugged him right off the floor. But instinctively, he knew something was wrong. Other apparitions were there as well, standing in shadows and all talking in hushed tones. Instead of rushing in head first, h
e decided to quietly step behind the large chart board and check things out first. Hiding there, he still couldn’t believe his eyes. Standing on the bridge, pretty as you please, conversing with The Leftenant, was none other than his best friend, George Stapleton.
“You’re insane,” George said grumpily.
In answer, The Leftenant cocked an eyebrow at George and said, “Hmmm… I suppose if I was, there really wouldn’t be any point in answering then, now would there? If I wasn’t, well, insane people rarely know they are insane. So again, the question is moot. Regardless, I have a message for you.”
“A message from who?” George asked.
“I believe you mean, from whom. But in any case, since you must know, the message is from your daughter, Maddie. Would you like to hear it?”
Rick remained hidden. A message? What message? Maddie’s aboard The Dauntless. Why would The Leftenant need to convey a message from Maddie? This opened a whole new slew of thoughts regarding how he was going to tell Maddie that her dad was still alive.
Conveying his own thoughts, Rick heard George ask The Leftenant, “A message? From Maddie?”
The Leftenant released a quick sigh. “Yes, I believe that is what I said. You aren’t the sharpest tool in the tool stores, are you?” She held up a hand toward him. “Before you answer, rest assured, that was a rhetorical question.”
George took a hurried step forward. “You’ve seen Maddie? Is she okay? Where is she?”
“All in good time. But first, as I said, three times total now, I must verify your identity in order to convey the message.”
George frowned. “How do you plan on doing that? You know what? I don’t care. Just get on with it already.”
“I believe that is what I am attempting to do.” The Leftenant raised her eyebrow again, as though daring him to interrupt her again.
George didn’t.
Finally… she asked. “What is the name of Maddie’s cat?”
“What?”
“That is the cipher. I believe the question is self-explanatory. If you wish to receive the message from your daughter, you must answer the question: What is the name of Maddie’s cat?”
George shook his head.
“George,” The Leftenant prodded. “What is the name of her…”
“I heard you,” he said irritably, cutting her off. “I don’t know what the name of her smelly cat was.”
“Smelly Cat is incorrect.”
“I know it’s not Smelly Cat,” George barked. “I have no idea what the name of her stupid cat was.”
“Stupid cat is incorrect.”
George seemed to be struggling for the answer, but eventually he opened his eyes and said, “Lucy.”
Rick heard a new voice ask in a Southern drawl, “Lucy? What in tarnation kind-a-name is that?” The voice was familiar, but Rick peeked out a little farther to make certain. The Southern voice went on to say, “I mean I git Tabitha er Mr. Whiskers, but Lucy? That jus don’t make a lick a sense.”
The new voice belonged to one Corporal Dawson.
Rick rapidly pulled his head back behind the chart board. Corporal Dawson? But he’s dead. I saw it with my own eyes. He was blown up on that dock. Nothing could have survived.
A fourth voice, deep and baritone, “I dunno, Lucy sounds like a mighty fine name to me.”
Rick knew the voice instantly, but he leaned out one eye just to make sure. Yep. It was Tank.
“Shoot,” Dawson said. “What do you know? Why don’t you go play with your stuffed bunny or sumthin?”
The big, bald man took a step toward the corporal. “It’s a rabbit, and you know it.”
The Leftenant stepped between them. “Now Gentleman, if you would be so kind as to quit talking rubbish, we could go back to talking about yesterday’s proceedings.”
A portly man with a thin mustache stepped out of the shadows. Hiking his belt up over his considerable girth he pleaded, “Tell me again why this is a good plan."
Rick didn’t know who this newcomer was, but none of this made any sense. These people were dead. What were they doing on the bridge? And what is this plan the fat guy with the thin mustache was talking about? Still feeling as though he was living in a waking dream, he decided the best course of action was to make his presence known and ask them directly. He coughed in to his hand and said, “I’m sorry. If I’m intruding, I can come back.”
The moment he said this, George, Corporal Dawson, Tank, and the portly guy with the mustache, all suddenly vanished.
Oh. That explains it. They’re holograms, Rick thought. But why?
The Leftenant, obviously surprised, (which Rick didn’t think was possible), quickly turned toward him, was about to speak, composed herself and then said, “No apology necessary. I was merely reviewing some of our historical records. I’m rather finished.”
Dropping his heavy gear bag by the captain’s chair Rick said. “Ya know. It’s okay that you miss them. We all do.”
The Leftenant straightened her coat, brushed some invisible lint off of it. “I am quite certain I have no idea as to what you’re going-on about.”
The leather seat creaked as Rick eased back into it. He swallowed and said tentatively, “You know, it’s the little things that make me miss her the most.”
Impatient, and obviously embarrassed, The Leftenant asked, “Excuse me? To whom are you referring?”
“My wife. It’s the little things that sneak up on ya when you’re not looking.” He checked to see if she was still listening. Once he was certain she was, he continued. “I was in the galley the other day and Cheeves served up this clam chowder with a side order of saltines in clear little packets. Without even thinking, I scooped up the packets of saltines and shoved them in my pocket, because I remembered how much my wife loved to find them on road trips.” Rick stared at the palms of his hands. “I remember thinking, Rick, what are you doing? You haven’t seen Chelle-Belle for over six years now, and you probably never will.” He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out. “I can tell you right now, I barely got out of there without bawling my eyes out.”
“Although that is truly a very sad-sad story, and I am genuinely sorry for your loss, I fail to see what any of this has to do with me.”
“All I’m saying is… You’re not alone, Leftenant. It’s okay to grieve. There’s no shame in it.”
“I am a hologram, sir. I am incapable of emotion. Your pity is not only unwanted it is unwarranted and misplaced.” Rick noted the tempo in her voice began to increase. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I am already overdue to power down and run my regularly scheduled maintenance checks.”
Rick held his palms up toward her. “I’m sorry, my mistake. But if you change your mind, I’m always here if you need to talk.”
“That is quite…” she began. Stopped. Tilted her head down. Pressed her fist to her lips… and vanished.
As Rick dropped his bag into the captain’s chair, he began to wonder if there was even more to The Leftenant than he already thought. Of course, they all knew that there was. For whatever reason, The Leftenant seemed far more self-aware than any other hologram they had encountered. The entire crew knew she was so much more. In fact, anybody who conversed with any other hologram knew that there was something different about The Leftenant. She was their version of Pinocchio, the hologram who wanted to be a real girl.
Rick removed his thermos from his gear bag and poured himself a cup of coffee. As he did so, he glimpsed an unpleasant blotch on the radar. “Yuck. That’s an ugly storm,” he said to no one in particular. He sat down in his creaking leather chair and settled in for the shift.
Perfect.
He picked up the antiquated clipboard, which changed pages on voice command, and examined their food supplies. We’d better get home quick because with all these hungry mouths on board, the ship’s stores won’t last much longer.
As he hung the clipboard back on its hook, he gazed over at the magnetic field dampeners’ display and
noticed something amiss. The variation was minute, which is why no alarms had sounded yet. But the rate of decay seemed continuous, and if they didn’t do something soon, the dampeners could potentially evolve into a cascade failure.
Well that’s not good.
Rick put down his clipboard and raised his voice to the heavens, “Leftenant… Leftenant… I know you can hear me.” When she didn’t reappear he added, “Listen, I don’t want to talk about you and the holograms, okay?” He thought about this and added more somberly, “I don’t want to talk about our friends.” When she still didn’t appear he said, “Listen, we’ve got a serious problem here.”
The Leftenant immediately appeared directly behind him. This frustrated Rick to no end. She was perfectly capable of reappearing across the room or even giving the appearance of walking into one, but she seemed to prefer to pop up right behind him and scare the living bejesus out of him… every time.
“Mr. Rick. I was gone for exactly ninety-seven seconds. What major malfunction could you have possibly caused in such a finite amount of time? Honestly, it’s a new record, even for you. I might as well put the gargoyle in charge.”
Rick raised his bushy eyebrows at her. “How long have you been holding back that little gem?” Before she could answer, he pointed to the starboard magnetic field dampener. “I noticed it as soon as I came on shift.”
Studying the malfunction, The Leftenant froze, unblinking. “I don’t know how I could have missed that.”
Seeing how clearly upset she was by her oversight, Rick attempted to offer her some solace by saying, “Hey, it’s a mistake, don’t worry about it.”
The Leftenant’s eyes grew wide.
Uh-oh, here it comes, Rick thought, bracing himself for the worst.
“Don’t worry about it? If the ship’s field dampeners devolve into a cascade failure, the entire ship could li-tra-lly,” she dragged out the word literally as far as it could go in her British accent, “…fall out of the sky. Yet, you say, don’t worry about it?”
Unflappable as usual, Rick offered. “Hey, it’s no big deal. The important thing is we caught it in time. We can’t fix it in mid-flight, so all we have to do is find a place to land, repair the damage and recharge the dampening field. Easy-peasy-Japanesey.”
