Echoes of Avarice

by Brendan O'Neill

  “Ok, that makes sense,” Connor said. “But you hit me. I thought ADS didn’t have hitting.

  “I said it wasn’t focused on hitting. There’s still plenty of striking in it.”

  Lavi offered a hand to her prone student and pulled Connor to his feet. He was about to ask more about the defense style when a familiar feminine voice interrupted.

  “That looked painful,” Charisma said.

  A huge goofy smile played across Connor’s face. “Hey Charisma! Did you come to see me?”

  “Actually, I’m here for defense lessons, just like you,” she said with a smile.

  “Really?” Connors eyes went wide as he considered her comment. He looked toward Lavi.

  The corporal just shrugged while fishing in her duffel bag. She pulled a drink out and shook it. “She volunteered to be a field medic.” Lavi opened the container and took a deep swig of her homemade protein drink before continuing. “Field work requires defense training.” Connor nodded, not happy about the thought that Charisma would be placed in danger, but he couldn’t argue the logic.

  Over the next hour, Lavi taught them some simple basics of Jin Fong Do and ADS. Various techniques involving entries using the point of their elbows to crash into an attacking opponent, firearm disarming skills, and knife attack and disarm methods were trained into the pair over and over.

  By the end, Lavi had worked them both so hard that both Connor and Charisma thought they were going to puke. Lavi, on the other hand, stood looking at the pair as though she had just been on a picnic. Connor sat down on a bench between two mat sections and occasionally glanced at the two women as they talked. Recently, they had grown close and Charisma was one of the few people that Lavi really seem to enjoy being around.

  When his breathing had finally calmed, he looked up at the two women. “Any truth to the rumor we found a couple of human prisoners on the Ka’Rathi scout ship that attacked us?” He’d heard that rumor from almost everyone he’d talked to since morning.

  The women looked at each other, then Lavi nodded. “The captain was going to make the announcement at 1800, so I guess there’s no harm in telling you now. We did find two surviving prisoners on that ship when we pulled it into cargo bay 1.”

  “Why didn’t we hear about them three days ago when we found them?”

  “Partly because we wanted to give them a chance to acclimate to life outside of imprisonment, and partly because they asked for it.”

  Connor’s eyebrows shot up. “Why do they get special privileges?”

  Lavi smiled. “That’s something you’re going to have to wait until this evening to hear.”

  Chapter 7:

  Connor limped out of the shower in his quarters wishing he’d showered as soon as he’d made it back. When he had left the cargo bay his muscles were trembling, but there had been no pain. Lavi and Charisma stayed behind, as much to talk as train, Connor suspected. Exhausted, he collapsed onto his bunk the minute he’d entered his quarters. His work with Lavi was the hardest in his life.

  Sleep came quickly, and when Connor awoke, he had to fight his own muscles to stand. Muscles he didn’t even know he had hurt, and it took several attempts before he could even get out of bed. Somehow, he managed to creep his way to the shower and it took far longer than normal to finish.

  The hot water helped. Lucky for him the pipes for his water ran directly over the extremely hot sub-space pathing generators. When he stepped out, he could actually stand straight, although it was still impossible to bend over and dig through his footlocker. After a few moments, he dropped painfully into a sitting position on his cot, then rolled onto the floor where he could open his footlocker. Fifteen minutes and numerous groans of pain later, Connor was dressed and standing. Well, stooping.

  Connor had just plugged his memory rod into the console on his back wall so he could set the televid lineup, when he heard the door chirp. Before he had the chance to stagger to the door, he heard the pass code being entered.

  Wild Bill’s working till late, Connor thought. Must be Charisma. A smile broke across his face.

  That smile disappeared when the door hissed open to reveal Lavi. She was wearing the same workout clothes from before, her duffle slung from one shoulder. Sweat that once darkened her cloths had dried to pale outlines of salt. The corporal shot Connor a wink and patted him on the chest as she pushed past him to enter his quarters.

  “Charisma said I could use your shower,” Lavi said over her shoulder to him. “No waiting in line here.”

  “Wait a minute. These are my quarters!” Connor said indignantly. “You can’t just come in and…”

  Lavi’s stubborn stare silenced Connor. “Charisma gave me permission, and I was under the impression that you two had gotten rather close.”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  “And you don’t want to upset your girlfriend, do you?” Lavi turned back to the shower and hung her duffel on a wall hook.

  The aggravating ache in his muscles drove him to unusual courage. “Look. Normally I would be happy to share my showers, but right now I’ve got things to do.” That wasn’t entirely true. Connor didn’t have kitchen duties today, and he still had plenty of time to set the televid lineup. But the ache this woman had worked into his body was giving him unusual courage.

  Lavi froze. For a moment she stood there, half facing away and in the middle of digging in her bag. Connor wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a small smile play across her lips. But when she turned toward him, whatever smile might have been was gone.

  “Listen, Professor,” she said as she pulled the tie from her hair, allowing her gently curling ebony locks to fall free. “I’m tired and have to be on duty in fifteen minutes. I need this shower. Now your right, this is your quarters, and I supposed you can stay if you wish.” Lavi’s eyes narrowed at him dangerously. “But if I get the impression you’re ogling me… we’re going to need a new Morale Officer.”

  She emphasized her point by whipping off her olive tank and dropping it to the floor. Her pearl-colored sports bra held Connor mesmerized for a second before he regained control of himself. He spent a moment trying to figure out how he’d lost control of his own quarters, but when Lavi raised an eyebrow at him and dug her fingers into the bottom of her sports bra, he turned and fled the room as quickly as his sore muscles would carry him.

  Chased out of the sanctuary of his own quarters, Connor made his way to the refugee colony in cargo bay 2. Captain Yuji would be making his announcement there within the hour and he wanted to hit Merchant’s Row before that happened. A few days after coming aboard, a little swap meet had popped up in the back of cargo bay 2. The refugees rarely had anything he wanted to trade for, but then he rarely had anything they wanted in return. Still, every once and a while he found a treasure.

  Because of his sore muscles, it took Connor almost four times as long to reach the cargo bay as it normally would have. He pressed the door release panel, and the familiar screech of its failing mechanisms set his teeth on edge. But as the heavy metal cargo doors slowly opened a curious smell hit him. It almost smelled like…

  Food! Connor thought.

  The intoxicating scent of chicken, beef, pork, and several other meats he couldn’t identify wafted through the air of the cargo bay. Their smell was so enticing that he couldn’t have stopped himself from following the miraculous scent even if he’d wanted to. His mouth watered so much he lost count of how many times he had to swallow in his search for the banquet.

  Connor weaved around islands of people, tents, clotheslines, and makeshift furniture in his search for that wonderful food. More laughter and shouting echoed throughout the bay than ever before. Familiar refugee faces smiled at him as he past, shouting friendly greetings. He waved as he past but didn’t stop to talk. The smell of food seemed to be coming from the far wall.

  He finally broke through the crowd to find a long row of tables made from boards, surplus doors, sheets of metal, and whatever other long flat objects that
could be scrounged. They ran parallel to the far wall and were laden with a variety of meats. Behind that, Tejeda and several personnel of both Fleet and CPF were preparing and serving the meats. Every member of the military wore the best uniforms they had, although many lost their formal attire in the mad evacuation from New Kathmandu. At the far-left end of the tables sat a completely ignored vat of gray nutripaste.

  Lt. Tejeda smiled at him as he approached. “Hóla, Connor. Como estai?”

  “Where the blazes did we get this?” Connor asked amazed by the feast. “Oh, and good thanks. How are you?” He added that last bit as something of an afterthought.

  Her smile widened into a grin at his preoccupation with the food. “I’m good. When we searched the Ka’Rathi scout ship, we found a mess of meats in their storage. I guess it’s no surprise when you think the bugs like meat the same as we do.”

  “How much did we find?”

  Tejeda’s grin faded slightly. “This is it. The brass thought it would make a great way for us to give back to the refugees, introduce our two new crewmembers, and share the news.”

  “What news?”

  “Don’t know. All the brass said was ‘share the news’. Their exact words. Only the captain and colonel know. Maybe the new people do as well.” Tejeda grabbed a plate and placed a few cuts of meat on it and handed it to him.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I should tell Charisma about this.”

  “She probably already knows,” Tejeda said. “It was linked ship-wide through the monitors. Didn’t you check your video messages?”

  Connor cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I, uh, I couldn’t. Something came up. I didn’t even have time to set the vids for tonight.”

  “What happened?”

  Connor opened his mouth to tell Tejeda that he just ran out of time, then thought better of it. “Charisma told Lavi that she could use my shower. She chased me out before I could do anything.”

  Lt. Tejeda stared at Connor for a moment, then broke into raucous laughter. “Rana chased you out of your own quarters?” she asked incredulously. Tejeda was shaking so hard that she had to lean on the tables to stay on her feet. “That’s priceless!”

  Connor watched the woman with growing annoyance as her raucous laughter roiled throughout the cargo bay. After a bit of hysterics, she managed to get her laughter under control wiping her tearing eyes and panting.

  “Finished?” Connor growled at Tejeda, his eyes spilling rage at her.

  “For the moment,” she said, her chest still heaving and face still red. She took a deep breath, then let it out in a slow, audible sigh. Then her lingering smile grew once again into a massive grin as she looked past Connor’s shoulder.

  “Hey Rana,” she said amiably. “How was your shower?”

  Lavi suddenly appeared next to him, a sly grin spread across her face. “Refreshing, Danielle, thanks.”

  Connor would have jumped in surprise if his muscles would have allowed it. The corporal smiled at him and slapped him hard on his ass. Searing pain shot through his muscles drawing a groan through his gritted teeth.

  “Good evening, Professor.”

  He could only growl at Lavi, which drew snickers from both women. She moved behind the tables to help serve the remaining meats. The two women shared a look that drove prickles up Connor’s spine. He didn’t know what passed between the two, but he was sure it wasn’t good for him. He took his plate of meat and turned to leave in search of Charisma.

  “You’re late,” he heard Tejeda say behind him.

  “Yeah,” Lavi answered. “I had a pest problem that delayed me, otherwise I would have been on time.” More snickers from the two women chased him into the crowd.

  Minutes later Connor caught sight of Charisma. She and Dawud sat on a long pipe amid a cluster of refugees, all eating from plates of meat. Dawud wore the uniform of the ship’s doctor, and Charisma the uniform of the ship’s medical staff.

  He smiled at them as he worked his way through the crowd. Charisma spotted him and waved as Connor fought through the crowd, sliding over so that he’d have room next to her.

  “Thanks,” Connor said as he sat stiffly, shoving a thick piece of chicken in his mouth at the same time.

  Charisma raised an eyebrow at him, then turned to Dawud with a small smile. “I can see where I stand.”

  Connor’s eyes flew open and he almost choked. “Sorry,” he babbled around the chicken in his mouth. He was so intent to correct his mistake that he leaned in to kiss Charisma without bothering to swallow his chicken.

  Her lightning fast palm caught his face and turned it away. “Swallow first, Romeo.”

  A round of laughter exploded from the others. His audible gulp was loud enough to be heard even in the din of the cargo bay. He turned back, and Charisma rewarded his efforts with a small kiss.

  “Congratulations on your promotions,” he said desperate to deflect the laughter at his expense.

  “Thanks,” Dawud said. “But the promotion means I’ll have to stay with the ship. No more away missions with the CPF anymore.”

  Connor raised an eyebrow at that. “So, who’s the unit medic now?”

  “Several civilians have volunteered for the position and are being trained for it. But the primary candidate seems to be our Charisma here,” Dawud nodded to the blushing young woman. “She’s already proven that she won’t panic in combat, she’s been assisting in the medical bay since we left New Kathmandu, and Rana says her combatives are progressing exceptionally well.”

  Connor glanced at Charisma, extremely unhappy at the thought of her putting herself at risk. But one look at the woman’s face, beaming at the praise and opportunity, kept his mouth shut. As terrified as he was at the thought of her being in harm’s way, he knew he couldn’t make the choice for her. If he pushed the point he’d damage their budding relationship.

  A quick glance around gave Connor the opportunity to change the subject. “Why didn’t Wild Bill get an invite?”

  “Bridge duty,” Dr. Dawud said around a mouthful of beef. “Someone has to run this ship.”

  A quizzical look from Connor brought a smile to Dr. Dawud’s face. “Captain Yuji and Colonel Bradley will be making the announcement any moment now. Didn’t you get the vid-message?”

  Connor dodged the question by stuffing another piece of chicken in his mouth. He was about to ask Charisma about her day when a powerful voice cut through the cacophony in the cargo bay.

  “Ladies and gentlemen! I hope you’re enjoying the feast the Ka’Rathi were kind enough to provide…” Captain Yuji said. His commanding voice carried easily throughout the bay and silenced the crowd as his speech continued. He stood on a catwalk that overlooked the bay, near a door that led to one of the loading bays. Colonel Bradley stood to his right, both in their finest dress uniforms.

  The corner of his eye caught sight of two other people on the bannister as well, but before his attention could shift to them, Connor felt something slink across his mind. Something he couldn’t define. It was like being in a room that’s completely dark, and yet being sure that someone, or something, else was in there as well. That something shifted around in his mind like a fish in an aquarium. Whatever it was didn’t seem to be aware that he sensed it. The something didn’t act defensive as it continued to slither through his thoughts.

  Anger seethed at the invasive little sensation. He wasn’t sure how he did it, he wasn’t even sure of what he was doing. But somehow, Connor used his mind to reach out and seize the infesting sensation. It fought back, wriggling like wildcat trying to free itself. A deep, primal instinct in Connor realized what the sensation was.

  It’s another mind! His subconscious screamed at him. Someone’s in my head!

  Several sudden attacks came at his mind, from all directions and yet nowhere. He had no idea how to defend himself from such an onslaught. But, instinctively, he used the hold he had on the invading presence as a bridge to escape the barrage. His own mind rode up the psychic connectio
n to invade the mind of his invader.

  His mind was assaulted by a sudden jumble of disjointed sensations that coursed through his mind.

  A tall, middle aged man smiling down at him. The scent of vanilla. A book resting on the hearth of a blazing fireplace. The wonderful taste of some sort of beetroot soup. A drill instructor screaming at him in a language that he shouldn’t understand, but clearly did. The haunting chords of a violin echoing down a hallway. An image in a mirror of a beautiful, naked blonde woman with her legs wrapped around an equally naked man.

  The flood of images was accompanied by a chaotic deluge of emotions. Rage, lust, happiness, fear, depression, loneliness, love, loss, exclusion. Some emotions were old, others seemed fresh. But determination seemed to shine the brightest.

  There was such a flood of sensations and emotions, Connor couldn’t tell which emotion applied to which image, or even how old the images were. He was drowning, losing himself in this other person. Desperately, he searched for an escape. There had to be some way to keep from dissolving into the mind of this invader.

  Like a blind man searching a beach for a specific grain of sand, Connor realized there was nothing he could do. Each passing second more of him eroded into this other person, more of his mind faded. His consciousness was chaff blowing away into the wind.

  Then, something began to push him. The unknown force drove him away from the other mind, and into a limbo-like solitude. He started to sense a path, the path back to his own mind. The further he got from the other mind, the clearer the path became. In moments, the safety of his mind was as clear as a candle in the dark.

  Connor fought with everything he had to return to the safety of his own psyche. But he was weak, unused to the psychic excursion and flood of foreign sensations from the invader. Even with the unseen force that had saved Connor now pushing him, the last of his mental fortitude was dying fast.