by S. H. Jucha
Sasha was overjoyed to sense the sincerity pouring off Imian.
“Okay, so, you won’t be my sex object. We’ll just be friends,” Sasha said blithely and hooked Imian’s arm. “By the way, that was my first girl-boy kiss.”
“I’m honored,” Imian replied, feeling like he’d dodged an airlock malfunction.
“You should be,” Sasha retorted.
“You were speaking about empaths and normals,” Imian said, as they strolled the corridor. “Could Luna be a latent empath? I mean someone who doesn’t know she has power.”
“Those individuals do exist,” Sasha replied. “But that’s part of the problem. If Luna had undiscovered capabilities, then she wouldn’t be trained.”
“And if she wasn’t trained, she would be broadcasting,” Imian finished for Sasha.
“Now you understand why I think she’s odd,” Sasha concluded.
“The Belle has an extensive library, doesn’t it?” Imian asked.
“Supposedly, why?” Sasha inquired.
“I was thinking that it would hold a lot of material about people and personality disorders,” Imian suggested.
“But Luna acts normal,” Sasha objected vehemently, and her gates slipped, which broadcast her frustration.
“I’m not saying I know what’s going on,” Imian replied, holding up his hands in surrender. “You’re puzzled about Luna, and I was offering a way to investigate the issue. I’m just trying to help.”
“Sorry,” Sasha said, curtailing her sending. She paused, and then said, “I want to kiss you again, but in a friendly way … but I won’t.”
Imian had always thought his downside contemporaries acted whimsically. Then again, he often considered their moods contrived, displays for others. It wasn’t so for Sasha. She was the real thing. Her mind flitted from subject to subject so quickly that most people would have trouble following her.
Sasha reversed course, towing Imian along. She located Dingles on the bridge and explained her requirements.
In turn, Dingles led the teenagers to an unused officer’s cabin. He started to hold out his hand to Sasha, when he realized that she didn’t have a comm unit. He certainly wasn’t going to ask Imian for his device. A quick call brought a crew member running.
“Comm unit, please,” Dingles said to the young woman, who opened the unit and handed it over.
Dingles connected her device to the monitor. With some entry work, he gained access to the Belle’s document library.
“The data in the library is enormous,” Dingles explained. “If you tell me what you’re investigating, I’ll direct you.”
Sasha struggled to phrase the subject.
Imian piped up, and said, “We’re interested in personality disorders, Captain.”
Dingles regarded Imian before he glanced at Sasha for confirmation.
“That’s correct,” Sasha said.
Dingles decided there was no value in asking another question. Except for his experience with space dementia, which he’d never researched, he was already out of his depth. He figured Sasha’s request had something to do with empaths.
Delving through the library’s structure, Dingles opened the subject repository of psychology. He demonstrated the query app and its results page to the teenagers.
“The system is smart,” Dingles said. “The more complex your request, the more likely you’ll get what you’re seeking.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Sasha said politely.
Dingles stared sternly at the young crew member. He said, “You’re on duty here until they’re finished. Then log out of the library and recover your comm unit.” Turning to Sasha, he said, “I’ll inform my officers that they’re to assist you with a logon anytime you require.”
When Dingles left the cabin, the crew member took a seat in the corner of the cabin. She understood Captain Bassiter’s orders. Sasha might be privileged, but Imian wasn’t.
Sasha regarded Imian. “Well?” she questioned.
Imian shrugged and raised his hands in confusion as to what Sasha was requesting.
“This is your idea,” Sasha said. “You sit down and type.”
As Imian took the seat in front of the monitor, Sasha pulled a chair close to observe.
In the corner, the crew member hid her smile. She had no love for downsiders, but in this instance, she could sympathize with any individual who was the object of Sasha’s focus.
The teenagers didn’t manage a sophisticated investigation. Imian found thousands of documents and text excerpts in response to his simple query. They were forced to read and learn. It took days before their queries zeroed in on an explanation for what Sasha had perceived.
Coincidentally, the same crew member sat in the cabin on the day of discovery.
“Psychopaths are incapable of manifesting true social interaction by virtue of their lack of empathy,” Imian read. “Their antisocial personality disorder manifests in aggressive, perverted, criminal, or amoral behavior without empathy or remorse. A form of tentative social integration is only possible through the process of their studying, learning, and imitating the behaviors of others.”
Imian looked at Sasha. She was rereading the text aloud and contemplating it.
The female crew member was also listening and debating whether it was her place to inform the captain of the unusual subject that the teenagers were researching. In the end, she decided it was a quirk of Sasha and not worth bothering the captain.
“That fits,” Sasha said. “No emotions. Nothing for me to sense. Instead, she goes through the motions, but it’s all an act.”
* * * *
Two days before the Belle made station out from the JOS and much to the amazement of Pyreans, the view from the Triton console shifted. It started as a panorama of the plains to the rear of the dome. The rover tracks of the spacers’ initial approaches to the defunct dome were clearly visible in the regolith.
Slowly the view rotated around the dome and came to rest on the extensive construction. The twin tunnels’ Y-formation was clearly visible, as well as the temporary caps over the shuttle tubes.
The construction’s speed amazed topsiders and downsiders. Pyreans had nothing to compare to the capabilities that the alliance aliens were exhibiting.
Harbour decided it was time to join the world again. She and Jessie had luxuriated in each other’s company to the exclusion of everyone and everything else. No one had begrudged their indulgence. If they did, they kept their opinions to themselves.
The couple had been supplied food, juices, and greens by empaths. There was no shortage of volunteers to serve them. Empaths would return from the couple’s suite with broad smiles plastered across their faces. They commented that being in Harbour’s presence was like bathing in warm starlight.
On the day Harbour chose to end their seclusion, she expended effort to close her gates. It was time to stop inundating Jessie so that the two of them could focus.
Jessie adopted a petulant expression, when Harbour’s ministrations faded. She laughed, kissed his cheek, and said, “Later.”
In the suite’s central room, Harbour tuned in to the bridge relay of the dome’s console. She grinned and called to Jessie.
Jessie examined the imagery, and said, “I think there’s no doubt we’ll get approval from Solseena’s committee. In fact, I’m thinking of asking for something else in trade for whatever those two discover between now and the completion of the projects.”
“They’re worth all the slush on Emperion,” Harbour commented. She sat on the couch, patted the space beside her, and opened her comm unit. She requested that the bridge contact Henry and Liam. It was the middle of the morning JOS time, and the men answered promptly.
“I thought we’d hear from you earlier,” Liam commented by way of hello.
“Other matters came up,” Jessie replied, as neutrally as he could.
“It’s time to discuss the possibilities of the plebiscite vote,” Harbour said,
“I was
hoping you would say that,” Henry returned. “It’s one thing for citizens to vote to maintain the status quo. But it’s going to be an incredibly complex undertaking if they vote to accept the colony ship’s government formation documents.”
“That’s why we have to be prepared in case the vote is in favor of the Belle’s documents,” Harbour said.
“You realize that Captain Bassiter will be the arbiter for the entire election process,” Liam pointed out. “Most Pyreans will assume that he’ll be acting under your orders.”
“I can’t help it if I was the one who rescued the man from security detention and elevated him to the Belle’s captaincy,” Harbour stated forcefully. “However, that’s the least of our worries. The presidency and fair representation are our challenges.”
“I’ll bet you that Dorelyn runs for president,” Jessie stated.
“No takers there,” Liam remarked.
“Are you running, Harbour?” Henry asked.
“I can’t manage the Tsargit, organize an alliance against the Colony’s expansion, and be Pyre’s president,” Harbour replied, laughing.
“Then who? Jessie?” Liam asked.
“Not me,” Jessie replied swiftly. “I’m following Harbour. Besides, I haven’t the temperament for the job. Pyre needs someone who’s displayed a track record of unbiased decision-making. It should be someone above reproach. This individual should appeal to spacers, stationers, and many of the hardworking downsiders.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Henry objected, which garnered laughter from the others.
“Henry, you’re the only one we can trust to start Pyre’s government on the right track,” Harbour said, “and you have a chance at winning.”
“She’s right,” Liam added. “Winning downsider votes is the key to winning the presidency. That’s not possible for the three of us.”
“We can expect Dorelyn and her ilk to run station candidates like those who popped up for the commandant’s election,” Jessie said, “but the only downsider will probably be Dorelyn.”
“We can expect the families to use their security forces to gather the dome’s votes,” Liam added.
“And there’s little we can do about that,” Henry lamented.
“So, Henry, are you ready for the greatest challenge of your illustrious career?” Harbour asked.
“If Jessie and you can risk your lives against the Colony, and Liam can dodge an assassination attempt to take the commandant’s position, I can do no less,” Henry replied, although he didn’t sound too enthusiastic.
“Courage, Henry,” Jessie said sympathetically. “All of Pyre needs you, whether some citizens know it or not.”
“According to the Belle’s documents, Henry will have difficulty achieving any measure of success if the representatives don’t support his agenda,” Liam noted, “and the downsiders have the numbers.”
“The first step is to recommend to Captain Bassiter a ratio of population to representative and how the citizens should be divided,” Jessie offered.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” Henry said. “I don’t think that’s the right approach. I agree we should recommend a ratio of population to representative. That will set the maximum number of delegates. I’m sure more individuals will run than we need. Pyreans should be able to vote for their favorite candidate. Those with the most votes up to the number we need form our new body.”
“I like that idea, Henry,” Harbour said.
“We better be prepared to deal with the families’ influence campaigns,” Liam warned. “They’ll spend coin and trade favors to buy stationers’ votes.”
“I think we might be underestimating working downsiders,” Harbour said. “We’ve always dealt with the family heads and their minions. We’ve little understanding of the business and working classes. Do they have comm units with which to vote? If so, how will they vote?”
“All good questions,” Henry said. “Does everyone realize the risk we’re taking?”
“I think we do, Henry,” Jessie replied. “Right now, Pyre has an odd sort of power stalemate. With these actions, we’re hoping to establish something better for our citizens, but we could lose everything.”
“I couldn’t have said it better,” Henry said.
-26-
Sika’s Opening
The Belle made station off the JOS.
Sika had spotted Harbour and Jessie the day before. Also, she learned from crew that the envoy and the advisor were going aboard station. Then, after three days of downtime, the colony ship would return to Emperion and load slush for six months.
This was Sika’s opening.
“Makana, I’ll be taking a shuttle to the station for supplies this morning,” Sika said.
“Perfect,” Makana replied. “I need some too. We can shop together.”
Sika quickly parsed the pros and cons of traveling with Makana. The woman would be a hindrance to unfettered movement. Yet, she would be excellent cover, allowing her to get close to her targets without drawing undue attention.
Having made a decision, Sika said, “I’d love the company. I’ve got some new ideas and so little coin. So, I warn you. I’ll be shopping for a while. Can you join me to catch the first shuttle?”
“Certainly,” Makana replied. “I’ll check with Claudia on the shuttle’s schedule. Get your stuff. The first launch will probably be soon.”
The flight was full, but Makana had priority seating, which enabled Sika and her to get seats. Also aboard were the repaired, which included Imian, and he was seated next to Sasha.
Jessie sat in the front row, and Sasha wondered if her information was flawed. She couldn’t see the envoy.
Harbour laid a hand on Danny’s shoulder. The pilots were running preflight checks in their cabin.
“Our final negotiated project with the Veklocks,” Harbour said, “was the construction of a medical station off Triton.”
“Well done, Envoy,” Danny commented, as Claudia and he continued down their list.
“The Jatouche will run the station, and the Tsargit will cover all expenses until every Pyrean is repaired,” Harbour continued.
Claudia stopped what she was doing. Her expression was hopeful, as she looked from Harbour to Danny.
On the other hand, Danny’s expression was far from happy. The painful memories of the multiple surgery failures that attempted to restore his legs with BRC operations had burned into his psyche.
Harbour sensed Danny’s mix of reluctance, anger, and fear. “Danny,” she said softly, “the Jatouche medical operations aren’t like ours. Talk to the repaired about their experiences. You’ll hear stories of painless operations.”
“Won’t be much time for that, Envoy. We’ve got a busy schedule to keep before the Belle launches for Emperion,” Danny temporized.
“I’m afraid it’s not as busy as you think, Danny,” Harbour replied firmly. She opened her comm unit, made a call, and put her device on speaker.
“Yes, Envoy,” Dingles answered.
“Captain Bassiter, I’d like Danny to have some time on station to chat with our repaired. Is that possible?” Harbour requested.
“My comm unit indicates we’re on speaker,” Dingles replied. “Can I take it that you’re in the shuttle’s pilot cabin?”
“You may,” Harbour replied. This was a serious conversation, which meant she had to smother her desire to smile. She dearly loved the old spacer.
“Danny, did you really make a fuss about the envoy’s request to the extent that she had to call me?” Dingles asked.
When Danny was slow to reply, it gave Claudia a chance to pipe up. “He did and rudely, I might add,” she said.
Danny glared at Claudia, and she stuck out her tongue at him before she blew him a kiss.
“Danny, I can guess what this is about,” Dingles said. “You and I have had some private talks over drinks, which I’d never share. But I’ve also talked to the repaired. You need to do the same. Now, do I need to make that
an order?”
“No,” Danny reluctantly replied.
“Anything else, Envoy?” Dingles asked.
“No, Captain,” Harbour replied. “I believe Danny and I have come to an understanding.”
Harbour closed her comm unit, left the cabin, and returned to her seat beside Jessie.
“Problem?” Jessie asked.
“Reluctant patient,” Harbour replied.
“Danny?” Jessie asked. When Harbour confirmed Jessie’s guess, he said, “Maybe you shouldn’t push him. He carries a lot of bad memories about his time in medical.” When he received Harbour’s hard stare, he muttered, “And maybe I should mind my own business.”
* * * *
Sasha and Imian had convinced each other that Luna represented an enigma, which deserved explanation.
They’d orchestrated several opportunities for Imian to hear snatches of Luna’s conversations with associates. The optimum times were at the shift’s end when the workers walked from the hydroponic gardens to their cabins.
The more Imian listened, the more he thought Luna sounded familiar.
The point Imian made repeatedly to Sasha was that he’d never been aboard the JOS until he became a priority medical case. He was suffering from intense pain before he was heavily medicated, and his entire head was wrapped.
“I couldn’t have identified anyone from their voice during the El ride or on the station,” Imian said. “Clarity didn’t return until after my repairs were completed aboard Rissness Station.”
“If that’s the case and you’re right about recognizing her voice, then Luna can’t be a stationer,” Sasha had replied when she became convinced of Imian’s reasoning.
Their research in the Belle’s library was another aspect of why they’d decided to board the shuttle. They’d learned a great deal about personality disorders, especially those born without the capability to empathize with others. These people grew up with antisocial tendencies and soon ran afoul of the legal system.
“If Luna is a downsider,” Imian had mused. “Why is she up here pretending to be Makana’s friend?”