by C H Gideon
“That’s what you’re calling this?” Jiya asked.
“That’s what it is,” he replied, “And I’m not going to argue with you, First Officer.” He emphasized her title, reminding her of her duty to the ship and to him.
Jiya blew out a long breath and heeded his warning, as much as he knew she didn’t want to. She strolled to her post, forcing herself to be deliberate, sitting down carefully and digging into her terminal as she started to look for something to exonerate Asya.
Reynolds knew he was playing with fire by questioning Asya’s loyalty as he had so openly, but he couldn’t take any chances. He had to know and couldn’t risk the mission Bethany Anne had sent him on simply because he wanted to treat his crew more like friends than subordinates. He was still learning about leadership. He was still learning about interacting with his crew.
Worse still, he’d seen into the Loranian ship that was stalking him, and he knew there was far more to it than appeared.
“Let’s bag and tag this asshole,” he ordered, displaying the ship on the main screen.
“You really want to challenge an unknown ship out by the gravity well with all the damage we’ve yet to repair?” Tactical questioned. “Had I realized you were suicidal, we could have launched you out the trash chute ages ago.”
Reynolds snarled. He’d been so distracted that he hadn’t realized the repairs on the hull hadn’t been completed.
“We go out there now, and we’ll have to fight the well’s pull as well as that ship,” Tactical continued.
“Since when are you the voice of reason?” Reynolds asked.
“Since it’s my ass that’s going to get blown up, too,” Tactical argued. “Besides, you’re hiding shit from us,” he went on. “You only do that when things are really bad. As such, you expect us to chase that ship now when it’s obvious there’s more to it than you’re letting on?”
“Preach it, Tactical,” Jiya muttered from her seat.
Reynolds glared at her and the offshoot of his personality, becoming more frustrated by the situation when he realized he couldn’t commit to attacking the Loranian ship.
“Fucking bald monkey-assed mastodon nuts,” he cursed, hopping up from his seat. Reynolds stomped toward the bridge door.
“Let me know if that ship comes any closer, XO,” he commanded. “I’ll be in the interrogation room.”
“I’m coming with you,” Jiya announced, leaping up and chasing after him.
Reynolds thought to argue but decided against it. If Asya knew anything about the Loranian craft, Jiya would see that and realize he was right. If she didn’t, she would see that too, and together, they could welcome the Loranian back to the crew.
Unless she had become too jaded. Reynolds was torn, but the train had left the station and was racing down the tracks. Only time would tell if it was out of control.
The AI hoped he was wrong; then he could worry about making amends. Until that time, though, he needed to be certain he hadn’t handed control of the Reynolds to a spy, or worse—a saboteur.
Reynolds strode into the interrogation room with Jiya. Ka’nak and Maddox stood at attention outside as they passed. Reynolds knew they were questioning his decision too, but as with Jiya, he’d worry about that once he was certain.
The problem was that even he wasn’t sure how he’d find out what she did or didn’t know.
The door hissed shut behind them, and Reynolds dropped into the seat across the table from Asya. The captain stared at him, frustration, anger, and worry simultaneously creasing her face.
She glanced up at Jiya for a second, then returned her attention to Reynolds. “What’s this all about?” she asked. Her voice was steely and confident.
Reynolds didn’t know what to make of that.
Were Asya a spy, she would have been trained to manipulate her surroundings and those in it. Her expressions could be manufactured, just like her story of feeling honor-bound to join the ship.
Reynolds shifted in his seat before saying anything. He hated the idea that Asya could be anything other than what she’d claimed to be.
Worse still, he hated that he had to question her.
“What do you know about the Loranian ship following us?” he asked, diving straight in and ignoring her earlier question.
“Loranian ship?” Asya stiffened in her seat, eyes widening. “You mean the ship that followed us? It’s Loranian? I thought you were joking."
“It is,” Reynolds replied, his voice cold. “Why is it following us?”
Asya apparently then realized why she’d been dragged into the interrogation room. She slumped in her seat.
“You think I have something to do with this,” she said, making it a statement rather than a question.
Reynold said nothing, but his silence was all the confirmation she needed. Sometimes silence was the best follow-up question.
“Fucking hell, Reynolds,” she complained, slamming her fists on the table. “Why would I abandon my home to serve you if I was just going to try to get you killed somewhere else?”
“I don’t know, Asya,” Reynolds countered. “Why don’t you tell me?”
She groaned, and Reynolds waited. Jiya crossed her arms and leaned against the wall.
“Damn it, Reynolds,” Asya spat. “I’m not a double agent. If I had wanted you or the crew hurt or anything else, I would have found a way to keep you at Lariest, where I have resources and friends.”
“Does this mean you couldn’t find a way to keep us there?” Reynolds pressed.
Asya groaned. “Don’t twist my words, Reynolds.”
“Then tell me what you know about that ship,” he said.
“I don’t know shit, is what I’m telling you,” she fired back, raising her hands in exasperation.
Reynolds stared at her, trying to read her, but there was nothing for him to determine. She was either a pro at lying or she was telling the truth, but he couldn’t tell which.
“Test me,” Asya told him when he hesitated. “Can’t you get the doctor to administer some sort of lie detector test or something?”
“Do that, Reynolds,” Jiya pushed. “Let her prove it to you before this gets out of hand.”
Reynolds knew well enough that a lie detector test could be faked, especially if Asya had the training to counter such a test.
“It’s not that simple,” Reynolds told them both.
“Of course it is,” Jiya said. “Order it, and it’ll happen.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Reynolds argued.
“Then what the hell do you mean?” Jiya pushed.
“He means that,” Asya clarified for the Larian, “if I’m a spy, I might have the means to subvert the test or something.” She sighed. “That’s probably why you think I asked for it, don’t you?”
Reynold said nothing.
Asya exhaled loudly. “I can’t believe this, Reynolds. I came with you willingly; left my home and sacrificed everything I had there—my rank, my retirement—all so I could serve with you and your crew.” She gnawed her lower lip. “Now I’m detained and questioned simply because the ship out there happens to be from the same worlds as me?”
She jabbed a finger at him.
“I can see the coincidental evidence that might lead you to think there’s something suspicious, but I assure you there isn’t. I didn’t know that ship was Loranian. We hadn’t been able to identify it, and I sure as shit don’t know who’s on it or what their mission is.”
Reynolds sat back in his seat, staring at Asya and wondering how he could determine the truth.
“There has to be some way she can prove that to you, Reynolds. Prove it to us,” Jiya told the AI. “Something you can do to make it clear that she’s being honest.”
And then it came to him.
“There is, actually,” he said, “but it won’t exactly be comfortable.”
“I didn’t mean torture, Reynolds,” Jiya growled. “Holy Melowi turds, you go to some dark and twisted places someti
mes.”
Reynolds chuckled. “I didn’t mean torture either. I’m not that much of a dick.”
When neither of the females said anything, Reynolds sighed.
“Now I see what you think of me,” he said, shaking his head. “I was thinking more of a neural implant. Doc Reynolds could insert it, and the device would read your neural patterns and warn us if you are doing something…something you shouldn’t be,” he finished.
“You have got to be kidding?” Jiya complained. “You want her to wear a damn mental leash so you can read her mind? That’s worse than torture.”
Asya raised a hand to stop Jiya from arguing.
“Would it tell you if I was lying?” Asya asked the AI.
“It’s not exactly a lie detector, no,” he answered, “but it will ensure that you are incapable of doing something to subvert the ship or the crew while it’s active.”
“So, it is going to read my mind?”
“Also, not exactly. It’s more of an alarm system,” he explained. “It’s got an active component to it, but no one can access your thoughts or anything as crude as that. It will, however, disable you and warn me should you attempt to harm one of us or damage the ship.”
“I don’t like this, Reynolds,” Jiya told the AI.
Reynolds already surmised that from the evil glare she was giving him.
“I don’t like it either,” Asya stated, “but if that’s what it takes to prove to you that I’m not a spy and I’m a voluntary member of this crew, so be it.” She pushed her chair back from the table. “What do we need to do?”
“Are you sure about this?” Jiya asked her.
“I need to prove to Reynolds that I can be trusted,” Asya said. “If that is what it takes to earn his trust, that’s what I’ll do.”
“You’re way more accepting than me,” Jiya muttered. “Ain’t no robo-doc shoving anything in my brain.”
Asya rose from the table. “Let’s get this over with.”
Reynolds nodded and led the two females to the med bay. No one said a word as they walked, and Reynolds felt a tinge of regret. He hadn’t wanted to make such a big deal out of it, but after what he’d seen in the coding of that Loranian ship, he couldn’t help himself.
He had to be absolutely certain, and this was the only way, crappy as it might be.
Chapter Nineteen
“Here for a checkup, Reynolds?” the Doc asked when they arrived. “Drop your pants, turn your head, and give me a good, deep cough.”
“Not here for that, Doc,” Reynolds told him, the incongruity of such an examination of a metal being lost on the two females. “I need a neural implant.”
“What’s the matter, you don’t trust yourself?” Doc asked.
Robot Reynolds rolled his eyes spectacularly.
Asya raised her hand. “It’s for me.”
“Well, that is unexpected,” Doc said. “You certain about this?’ he asked. “While painless, the implant can be a bit…invasive.”
Asya nodded. “Just do it and get it over with,” she said in no uncertain terms. “I don’t want this suspicion hanging over my head any longer.”
“Fair enough then,” Doc told her, and a mechanical arm emerged from the ceiling, a small injector in its hand. “Take a deep breath and hold it,” he ordered.
Asya did, and Doctor Reynolds pressed the injector against her head. There was a muffled snap as it fired, and Asya winced as the device was injected under the skin at her temple.
“Triggering it now,” Doc said.
Reynolds stood rigid in suspense as Doc Reynolds activated the neural implant.
Then when nothing happened, he sighed internally, glad for it.
He hadn’t been entirely honest.
While the device couldn’t read Asya’s thoughts directly, what it would do was release a burst of micro-explosives had she been lying to him and had some knowledge or part in the arrival of the Loranian ship.
Reynolds hadn’t wanted her to be a spy, and he definitely didn’t want to see her brains splattered all over the room if she had been double-crossing them, which is what would have happened.
“Satisfied?” she asked, hands on her hips.
“I am,” he told her, “and I know I’ll be apologizing for this forever, but I hope you understand my position. This isn’t personal. I had to be sure.”
“The hell it isn’t personal, Reynolds,” Jiya told him, growling in his ear.
To his surprise, Asya was more gracious despite everything.
“It is what it is,” she said. “Now, can we get back to dealing with this ship? I want to know what it’s doing here just as much as you do, especially now that I know it’s Loranian. I want to put the captain in that interrogation room where I’m on the right side.”
Reynolds wasn’t ready to spill the secret he’d learned while inside the ship’s programming
Still, he was happy to know that Asya was exactly who she’d claimed to be.
That set his paranoia at ease.
At least as far as she was concerned.
The ship, on the other hand…
Back on the bridge, Reynolds let Asya take the captain’s seat once more in an effort to smooth over some of the hard feelings he knew she’d harbor after what he’d subjected her to.
Jiya was angrier with him than Asya, but he’d expected that. It was unfortunate, but he’d figure out a way to make it up to both of them eventually. He needed Jiya to think more and react less. He had much work to do with her.
“Ready the gate-drive,” Reynolds ordered.
“We going for take-out?” Tactical asked.
“In a manner of speaking,” Reynolds replied.
“Gate-drive energizing,” Ensign Alcott announced.
“Our shadow knows we’re warming up the engines,” XO said.
“That’s the point,” Reynolds said.
“Well, at least someone knows what we’re doing,” Jiya commented from her post.
Reynolds grunted.
Maybe he’d need to make amends sooner rather than later.
Reynolds examined the monitor in front of him, plotting the course he wanted to take.
He’d have to be careful not to put the superdreadnought in a bad location. The damage to the hull was still being repaired, and he couldn’t risk taking another shot in the compromised areas until the damage was fully mitigated.
Still, he couldn’t sit there while that Loranian ship hovered in the background, threatening the Reynolds as well as those people on the planet below through its ability to infect Gorad.
“You feeling up to being slick, Ensign?” he asked Ria.
“As slick as I can be, sir,” she shot back.
Reynolds liked the kid, but he realized he might well have to put neural implants into everyone to maintain some appearance of fairness.
He decided he’d worry about that later.
Reynolds passed the coordinates to her station. Her eyes went wide at seeing them.
“Sir?”
“I want you to hit your mark on this, Ensign,” he told her. “We can’t afford to be sloppy.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, fingers flying over her console. “Ready at your command,” she announced.
“Make it so,” Reynolds said, stifling a chuckle.
He loved saying that.
“You going to let us in on this?” XO asked.
“We’re stepping out to say, ‘Howdy,’ to our neighbors.”
“You’re not seriously—” Tactical started to ask, but Reynolds cut him off.
“Now, Ensign,” Reynolds told Ria.
Ria followed orders without question, and the Reynolds opened a gate and shot through it.
The ship emerged from the gate less than a kilometer from the Loranian ship’s stern.
Sirens blared at the closeness, the bridge bathed in red, flashing lights.
“Oh…shit!” Jiya shouted as the Loranian cruiser filled the viewscreen.
“Damn it, Reynold
s,” XO cursed. “A little warning, please.”
“Ready to give it a nuclear enema,” Tactical called, but the Loranian ship had other ideas.
A portal ripped open in front of the cruiser, and it started forward.
Tactical didn’t wait for the order to fire.
Railguns sent projectiles at near-light speed at the Loranian ship, tearing into its flank as its engines engaged. Pieces of debris and a stream of vented atmosphere spilled out behind the cruiser, but it was too fast to take down.
The ship entered the gate, disappearing across the event horizon, the portal closing in its wake.
“Damn it!” Tactical cursed. “Merely a flesh wound.”
“That’s okay,” Reynolds told his other personality. “I didn’t expect us to do even that much damage to her. I just wanted to test her capabilities.”
“We tested the integrity of her ass,” Tactical said.
“Jiya,” Reynolds called. “Send the bots to collect the debris. Ensign Alcott, once the bots are back aboard, return us to the defensive ring. Be sure to let Gorad know we’re coming, Comm,”
“Roger that,” Comm answered.
Jiya did as she was ordered, and did it without saying anything, for which Reynolds was grateful.
He didn’t want to argue with her about the decisions he’d made. She wouldn’t understand.
Not yet, at least.
She would, though, when she learned to separate herself from the mission, stand above dispassionately and move the pieces around the chess board with a singular goal of winning.
“Easy cleanup, seeing how close we were,” Jiya reported. “Bots are heading back in now.”
Reynolds nodded, confirming they were in the hangar bay before he motioned for Ria to carry out her orders. The ship Gated back to Grindlevik 3 seconds later, and Reynolds was glad to note that Gorad hadn’t tried to shoot them out of space again.
“Keep us in open space, Asya,” he said, relinquishing the ship to her once more in what he hoped was seen as a sign of renewed trust.
One of these days, he would have to learn how to deal with living beings.
They’re so sensitive, he thought.
“Deliver the pieces of that ship to Takal and Geroux in the lab and have them comb over every centimeter. I want to know anything there is to know about that ship and its tech as soon as possible,” he ordered Asya.
