Renegade Atlas

by J. N. Chaney

  “Hey, kid,” I said.

  “Can we go somewhere fun? I’m tired of being on the ship.”

  “Wish we could,” I answered, patting her on the head. “Hopefully it won’t be long before we land again.”

  She frowned, clearly disappointed by the answer.

  “Tell you what, though,” I went on. “Gimme ten minutes and I’ll grab you some jerky and cheese.”

  Her eyes lit up at the prospect of food. “Can I, um, can I have some tomato soup?”

  “Sure, kid.” I walked past her and toward the others, who were still discussing options in the middle of the lounge.

  “I just don’t—” Freddie stopped when he saw me. “Captain Hughes, is everything okay now? Did we take any damage?”

  “You’d know it if we had,” I said.

  “What about that Union ship?” asked Abigail.

  “What about it?” I asked.

  “Is it pursuing us? Are we safe?”

  “Beats me. We won’t know until we’re at the next S.G. Point.” I looked at Octavia. “How about you?”

  “Me?” she asked.

  “Are you holding up all right?”

  “I can’t feel my legs. What do you think?”

  “I think if you can still be sarcastic, things can’t be that bad.”

  “Fair point,” she said.

  “As for the plan, I figure we’ll stick to the map,” I continued. “The atlas we got from that cave has us heading this way. We’ll just stay on course and keep our eye on the prize.”

  “You act like it’s such a simple thing,” said Abigail. “Like trying to win something out of one of those stuffed toy machines.”

  “Since when are those things easy?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, but compared to running for our lives, I’d imagine they can’t be that bad.”

  “I have a cloaked ship, if you’ll remember,” I said.

  “Do you think that will be enough?” she asked.

  “Trust me. When we get out of this tunnel, we’ll go dark and bide our time. No one will know where we’ve gone, and if they ever do figure it out, we’ll have disappeared completely.”

  Three

  I sat in my room, my feet on my desk as I leaned back in my chair, playing with the gold pocketwatch Abigail had given me. It had a planet engraved on it, which she’d called Earth. I didn’t know if I believed the myth, but I still liked the watch. She’d given this to me, believing she’d never see me again.

  That was before we went on the run together. Now, we were crewmates, all of us, the road before us full of unknown possibilities.

  The territory ahead was largely owned by the Sarkonians, but their borders were constantly in flux. For all I knew, we’d already crossed over. The bastards loved claiming systems that were nowhere near their own space.

  But the universe was a big place, and they could only go in so many directions. If we stayed on this path, we’d cross through their space in a matter of days. If I kept The Star cloaked, we’d have an easier time of it.

  A soft knock at my door stirred me, and I dropped my feet and stowed the pocketwatch. “What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s Fred. Do you have a minute?”

  “No,” I answered. “I’m busy watching a holo. Ever heard of Lustful Sins of a Sarkonian Wife?”

  There was a short pause. “Oh, I, uh, I don’t—”

  I hit the door control and it slid open, revealing Freddie’s stammering face. “What is it, Freddie?”

  “A-Are you really watching that?”

  “I will if you don’t hurry up,” I cautioned.

  “I…” He paused, taking a breath. “I have a small request, if you don’t mind.”

  “What is it? You need to have the talk? I suggest you try Hitchens. I’m not really the fatherly type.”

  “I want you to teach me how to shoot.”

  The words lingered in the air a moment, taking me by surprise. “What did you just say?”

  He cleared his throat. “Look, Captain, I’m no fool. I know you ordered me to stay back because I’m useless in combat.”

  He wasn’t wrong. The poor guy had practically no experience to speak of when it came to fighting. I wagered he wouldn’t be able to hit a wall of The Star if I gave him a rifle and pointed. “I don’t know if I have time for that kind of thing.”

  “Please, Captain,” he begged. “I don’t want to be on the sidelines while the rest of you pick up my slack.”

  Call me a sucker, but I felt for the kid. He wasn’t raised like me. He didn’t grow up on the street, getting in knife fights at the age of nine. “Before you joined that cult, did you ever have to use a gun, Freddie?”

  “Once or twice,” he said, hesitantly.

  “Ever have to kill anyone?”

  He shook his head.

  “That could be a problem. I’m not sure I have the time to get rid of that part of you.”

  “What part?” he asked.

  I poked him in the chest. “That part. You know, the thing inside that makes you afraid to murder some asshole before he can murder you.”

  “Murder? But it’s self-defense, isn’t it?”

  “Sometimes it’s business. Sometimes it’s preemptive,” I explained. “You do what you gotta do out here, Freddie. That’s how it works.”

  His eyes widened. “Gods, Captain. Is that how you’ve been living this whole time?”

  “It’s the only way to live. It’s how you stay alive. Make no mistake, Fred. This ain’t the Union or your church. It’s the fucking void. There ain’t any rules out here. No civilization to tell you how to exist. You take what you take, kill who you kill, and try to make it out alive.”

  I wanted the weight of my words to sink in. I wanted him to understand. Killing wasn’t easy, but a second of hesitation could make you a corpse.

  But…it’s necessary,” he muttered. “It’s how I protect the rest of you. Isn’t that right?”

  I nodded. “It’s how a crew survives. We do it together. We look out for each other. But you gotta be willing to pull that trigger.”

  He stood there for a moment, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. He was convincing himself that this was right, justifying what he had to do. “Okay,” he finally told me. “I understand, Captain.”

  “Good,” I said. “Because if you get me killed, Freddie, I swear to the gods, I’ll fucking rise from the grave and come back for you. Do you understand?”

  * * *

  I spent the afternoon showing Freddie how to aim a rifle. I had noticed his posture a few times, most recently back in the hospital, and thought it would be a good place to start.

  Once I was satisfied that he wasn’t going to accidentally recoil the weapon into his nose, I went about the business of explaining how to aim. “You want to keep your breath steady. It’s cliché and everyone knows it, but hey, it’s also true.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  I placed my hand on my chest. “Breathe out, but keep it steady,” I said, exhaling. “The point is to keep yourself balanced. You need your calm.”

  “My calm?”

  “Every seasoned soldier gets it after being in the shit for a while. It’s a state of mind. That’s the best way I can explain it.”

  “What is it?”

  I’d never explained this sort of thing before, so it took me a second to find the right words. “When you’re running, you know how your heart is racing?”

  “Sure, adrenaline kicks in,” he said, nodding.

  “Right, exactly. The same thing happens when you’re in the shit, only it’s about a hundred times worse. Your whole body tenses up. The synapses in your brain are lighting up like crazy. Your tongue gets dry. You get that sick feeling in your gut, like you’re about to throw up. It’s the same thing that happens before you fuck for the first time. It makes you clumsy and stupid, and it gets you killed in a quick hurry.”

  “How do you control that?” he asked.

  “Pr
actice,” I said, simply. “And breathing. Lots of it. Every chance you get, you breathe. Take deep breaths when you’re alone in your bunk, stop in the hall when no one’s around. Just keep doing it.”

  “That’s all I have to do?”

  I laughed. “Fuck no, kid. You’re gonna need to fight someone. Maybe get your face torn up. I don’t know. It’s gonna take time to get your calm.”

  “I see,” he said, looking down at the rifle in his hands.

  I was being hard on him, telling him all this, but he had to hear it. I liked Freddie, for whatever reason, and I didn’t want him to die anytime soon. If those Union and Sarkonian bastards kept coming after us, he’d need his wits about him. He’d need to be willing to kill. “Where’s the nun today?” I asked, after a moment.

  “Are you referring to Sister Abigail?”

  “Ain’t no other nuns on the ship, so who else?”

  “I believe she’s teaching Lex her math tables.”

  I tapped the com in my ear. “Siggy, patch me through to Abigail’s room.”

  “Right away, sir,” said the A.I.

  A second later, I had her. “What is it, Jace?” she asked, an obvious annoyance in her voice. “I’m busy.”

  “Too busy to help your pal Fred?” I returned.

  “What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine. I need you to come down to the cargo bay.”

  “I’m on my way,” she answered.

  I clicked off the com, then took Freddie’s weapon. “Give me that,” I said, walking over to the nearby locker and putting it away. “Abby’s on her way to help you out.”

  “Help me out?” he asked.

  “I can’t do everything, and I really don’t have the time. You’re like a newborn pup, Fred, sorry to tell you. You need a momma.”

  The door slid open at the back of the bay as Abigail entered. She walked down the steps and joined us in the center of the bay, her arms behind her head. “What’s all this about?” she asked, raising an eye.

  “I need you to beat the living shit out of Freddie here,” I told her, motioning with my thumb. “Think you can do that?”

  * * *

  Abigail’s fist slammed into Freddie’s jaw so hard I heard a crack. Spit flew from his mouth as his cheeks rippled from the blow, and he yelped, staggering back.

  “I told you to block me!” the nun yelled.

  He fell on his ass and covered his quickly bruising face. “I-I wasn’t ready!”

  “You can’t always be ready in a fight,” I said, shaking my head and trying to sound disappointed. “So embarrassing.”

  “Are you hurt?” asked Abigail. She let out her hand to help him up.

  Freddie got to his feet and, after checking his jaw, nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Ready to go again?” I asked.

  “Again?” repeated Abigail. “Did you see what just happened?”

  “I’m ready,” interjected Freddie.

  We both looked at him. “That so?” I asked, cocking my brow at Abigail. “Hear that? He’s ready.”

  “I heard him,” she said, glaring at me. “But if he’s not careful, he could get seriously injured, and we can’t have that if the Union finds us again.”

  “I can handle it,” insisted Freddie. He put up his fists like a boxer.

  I tried not to laugh.

  Abigail ignored him. “Can I speak with you for a moment, Captain?”

  “Sure.” I followed her to the bay door in the back, a few meters inside the hall where Freddie couldn’t see us. “Well, this feels familiar.”

  “Familiar?”

  I recalled being here once before with Abigail, having another conversation about a passenger, only it was Lex instead of Freddie that time. She’d told me her situation was complicated…that she was in a bit of trouble, and I believed her because that’s how it went out here. It was hard to think how far we’ve come since then. “Nothing,” I said, not wanting to get into it. “What do you wanna say? I assume it’s about Freddie.”

  She crossed her arms. “You need to take it easy on him.”

  “Easy?” I asked. “He’s the one who asked for help.”

  “He’s only doing that because he thinks he has to. You need to tell him it’s not his job to fight.”

  “What is his job, anyway? Hitchens and Octavia are archeologists. You’re some kind of crazy nun with a trigger finger. Lex is a freak kid with magical powers. I own the ship. What exactly does Freddie do?”

  “He’s an expert on the Church and the early writings of Darius Clare.”

  “You mean the old guy who started the Church?”

  “That’s right,” she said. “He practically has Dr. Clare’s entire library memorized.”

  I raised my hands. “Oh, well I’m sure that’s handy in a fight.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You know that’s not fair. He has other values.”

  “Not fair?” I repeated. “We’re not on some pilgrimage. There’s a giant fucking ship that’s hot on our asses, trying to track us down and kill us. Well, kill most of us. I’m sure they’ll just take Lex and leave the rest of us for—”

  “I get it,” she interrupted.

  “Do you? Because if we’re going to survive this suicide mission across the universe, we’re going to need everyone on this ship trained and ready to fight. Freddie needs to know how to kill in a heartbeat. Do you want him hesitating when it’s your life on the line?”

  “Ugh, fine,” she groaned. “I swear to the gods, Jace.” She turned away from me and headed back inside. “Frederick, get ready.”

  “A-Are you going to hit me again?” asked Freddie.

  I stepped into the bay and leaned against the railing above the stairs, watching Abigail descend. “She’s going to kick your ass until you’re better, Fred.”

  “Oh, boy,” he said, taking a deep breath.

  Abigail got into her fighting pose. “Ignore him and try to keep up.”

  Four

  I left Abigail and Freddie to train, or rather, I left Freddie to get his ass kicked by a nun, and then made my way to the lounge.

  Hitchens was there, sitting with Lex on the sofa. He had a box in his hands—one of the ancient relics we’d brought with us from the asteroid belt. He gave it to the girl and she took it, smiling, and the device instantly lit up, illuminating her face.

  “Got yourself another toy?” I asked, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall a few meters from the couch.

  “Ah, Captain! I was hoping to speak with you about something, whenever you had a chance.”

  “Looks like you’re busy now,” I said, nodding at the glowing square in Lex’s hands. “Got yourself another music box?”

  I made my way over to the snack bar, eying the place where my coffee-maker had been, back before Fratley and his goons roughed my ship up and broke half my furniture. I missed that delicious brew like nobody’s business.

  “Not quite,” said the doctor. “This one’s a little less playful. More like a—”

  The box suddenly snapped open, its lid popping up. The sound startled Lex, but she laughed soon after.

  “A lockbox,” finished Hitchens. He chuckled. “Time to see what’s inside.”

  Lex peered into the opening. “What’s that?”

  Hitchens reached inside the container and brought out a smaller object. It was flat, like a pad, but it had no screen. “Strange,” muttered the archeologist. “I haven’t seen anything like this before.”

  “Is it a toy?” asked the little girl.

  “Might be,” he said, nodding. He looked at her and grinned. “What say we find out?”

  She smiled. “Okay!”

  Hitchens took the storage box from her and the light inside immediately dimmed, going dark after a few short seconds. He handed her the other, much smaller object, and she took it, curiously.

  We all watched, waiting for something to happen. “What’s the deal?” I asked after a minute had passed.

  Hitch
ens tapped his chin. “It could be malfunctioning. I might need to replace some parts, although I don’t know if I have them on hand. Lex, dear, could you place the device back inside the—”

  A sudden burst of light exploded from the girl’s hands, hitting the farthest wall, near the cockpit door.

  I hit the floor, reflexively. “Holy fuck!”

  Lex screamed, releasing the object. She recoiled, falling back into the sofa and kicking her legs. Hitchens wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from whatever the hell was happening.

  The light vanished a short moment after it appeared, but that didn’t stop the girl or Hitchens from panicking. I scrambled to my feet and kicked the little machine away from her, knocking it beneath the coffee-maker table. “Fuck!” I yelled.

  Hitchens released Lex. “O-Oh, my goodness! Are you all right?”

  “My…my hand,” she muttered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared at her fingers. They were red and bloodied.

  “Oh, dear,” said Hitchens, carefully taking her hands in his. “Captain! Captain, Lex needs medical attention!”

  I tapped my ear. “Siggy, tell Octavia to get her ass to the lounge! Get Abigail, too. She’ll want to be here.”

  “Yes, sir,” responded Sigmond.

  “Can you bend your fingers?” asked Hitchens. He looked absolutely worried, but I could tell he was trying to hide it. “Try to make a fist if you don’t mind.”

  “O-Okay,” she said, doing as he asked. She squeezed her fingers together, flinching slightly, but still going through with it.

  It reminded me how tough this little girl actually was, for better or worse.

  Octavia came rolling down the hall in a matter of seconds. “What’s going on?”

  She came to a stop right in front of the sofa.

  “Lex fried her hands,” I said. “It’s Hitchens’ fault. He gave her one of those stupid relic things.”

  She leaned in close to Lex and took her wrist to examine the wound. “It looks like a burn,” she said. “Doctor, is the Captain right? Did you do this?”

  Hitchens frowned. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Yes, it’s true, Octavia. I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry, Lex.”

  “It’s okay, Mr. Hitchens,” said Lex, wiping her eyes on her shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”