by A. Rhea King
Tru didn’t change his order or look at Mullin as he was led out of the room.
“You had a premonition when he touched the table, didn’t you?” Zalet asked Tru.
“Yes. For once I got one when I needed it. Excuse me, Zalet. I need to contact Admiral Larson.” Tru stood.
“I have been asked me to speak with you.”
Tru stopped and looked back at him. He walked over to the keypad on the wall and turned off the audio and video recording. He sat back down, staring at Zalet. The Avinion remained focused on a spot on the opposite wall.
“By who?” Tru asked. “And about what?”
“The Hashuk priesthood wishes for me to provide you formal training so that you may learn to harness and control your developing psychic abilities. I find their reasoning rational and have agreed.”
“You do know that I am half Silerium, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Avinions hate Sileriums.”
“We have no like nor dislike for your kind, Captain.” He looked at Tru. “Any interactions you may have assumed was an indication of hate, was simply an Avinion choosing to withdraw psychically. Sometimes we must do that if a psychic of any race has strong psychic abilities but are unable to control those abilities, as we may inadvertently teach them. We choose to abstain from coaching Sileriums as we have with many other psychic skilled species.”
“You did just make a good point, Zalet. The Hashuk priestesses have refused to train royalty or dignitaries who have psychic abilities that evolved naturally. You just said yourself Avinion also refuse to teach Sileriums. So why would you, or the priesthood, want to teach me?”
“You are unusually emotional today, Captain,” Zalet observed. “You haven’t fully recovered from the lengthy premonition. But, you have a valid question.” Zalet replied.
Truman waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “And what is the answer?”
Zalet quietly and slowly explained, “We have seen what you are capable of and that causes us concern. Without your psychic abilities, when you connect with other beings there is a high chance that you will doom many worlds, if not galaxies. Pivotal times in the future will prove perplexing for you, and where you could choose a path that will do no harm, you might not. If you were able to harness and control your premonitions, and your other skills, you would know before you chose what path would cause no, or at least less, harm.”
“I would never choose something that caused harm. What have you seen that says otherwise?”
“Do you honestly believe that the future is set and cannot be moved or manipulated, Captain? Has having premonitions, or at the least being human, not taught you that even the best intentions can cause the most harm?”
Tru considered the questions. “I guess I had thought the future was set. I only ever see one future at a time.”
“That is the problem of not having training. You are capable of seeing multiple futures, and that is how you will be able to make that lead to the least harm.”
He shook his head, looking at Zalet. “But how could I cause destructions of galaxies? I’m not that important to anything. No one is.”
“You are wrong. There are some who are paramount to everything. You are also correct in your observation that you and I not one of these individuals. Yet you and I will have an influence on those who are that important. It is your influence that you must control so those greater than you can make choices of least harm. Starting with the one thing that you have the most influence over; your ship.”
Tru slowly collected his thoughts. He chose his next words carefully. “This ship is a cargo and science vessel. It has no way of causing—”
Zalet slowly turned his head and leaned so close to Tru that their noses nearly touched. Tru had never been this close to an Avinion in his life. He noticed that there were no pores in the creature’s pale skin, that his teeth were actually silver nubs. Zalet’s purples eyes seemed to glow from within. His breath had a strange, sweet, scent.
“Prosperous is more than a ship, Captain, and all the Avinions onboard know her secret. You have chosen to postpone telling your crew about her, and that is a wise choice. They have been a vexing crew, and the secret would have prevented nearly all of them from trusting you. When you reveal the secret to the crew, many will be frightened, but the confidence you nurtured with your crew will make them feel comfortable working alongside her. But do not fool yourself into believing this secret can be kept forever.”
“How soon before I have to tell them?”
“Very soon.”
“How soon?”
“When the moment comes that your ship is no longer under your control, you will tell them.”
“She’s always under my control.”
“Is she? Always?”
Tru looked down at the table. From the corner of his eye, he watched Zalet stand and wait patiently next to him. Tru smoothed his hands across the table top.
“If I train with you, then the threat of destruction will go away?”
“No. It will never go away. The threat will only be avoided through your sound choices, which in turn will rely on you being able to control your abilities.”
“Do Avinions ever get sick like I do when they have premonitions?”
“Yes. All Avinions do until they are taught how to control their skills. These abilities are psychic, but they strain the muscles you call a brain. Like any muscle learning to handle strenuous work, it must be conditioned.”
Tru looked at the table as he considered his two choices. Finally, he decided.
“I will see you in my quarters every other night at twenty-two hundred. Eat light and rest as much as you can before coming,” Zalet told him.
Tru looked up at him. He hadn’t said his choice. Zalet offered his sad smile.
“I hear everything you’re thinking. From henceforth, you might want to learn to adjust to that concept because the Avinions will start expecting you to practice communicating psychically. It is a gift all Sileriums and Avinions possess, only the Sileriums do not know they can.”
Tru nodded. Zalet turned and left the room. Tru didn’t move. He stared at the opposite wall, processing the news of his future and trying to understand what had just happened to him.
Captain, are you okay? Gracie asked.
“I…” Tru stood. “I’m good. Thanks for asking.” He walked out, heading to The Catacombs to wrap his head around the conversation.
Time at last makes all things even.
Human, American Proverb
Chapter 20
SEPTEMBER 2660
IF THERE WAS ONE FEATURE OF PROSPEROUS THAT TRU WAS GRATEFUL FOR, it was the holographic spheres, or h-spheres. As a child, he had fought dragons, been famous commanders on battlefields (all in the name of learning history, of course), explored solar systems without a ship or EV suit, and was interactively taught physics in these strange-looking spheres. He and his father used the spheres to figure out engineering problems, evade pirates and hostile species, and on days like today, relax.
Tru thought over the very rough, exhausting, last four months. The regimen of training was helping to alleviate some tension, but every few days someone’s temper would flare, and he’d have to send crewmen to Brig stasis for a week – Wrigley’s suggested addendum to his initial order.
Yesterday he’d made a sad discovery that his lead communications officer, a Satell named Enima Niwerek, hadn’t been doing her job since they had left spaceport. It would have gone unnoticed until he read a report written in Jackie’s writing style. Part of Jackie’s therapy that Tru had asked her to do was that she and Joan write letters to each other and their parents. He was very familiar with how both personalities sounded, and these reports were undeniably Jackie’s work.
When he confronted the women, they both lied to him – he felt it. He finally ordered them both to the Brig for the remainder of the stint, and that’s when Jackie cracked – or rather Joan. She wasn’t about to let her and
her sister spend the next three months in the Brig for writing reports that Enima should have been writing. She told him that Enima threatened the jobs of all the COM officers if they didn’t do her work, in her name, and keep quiet about it. Enima denied all of the accusations, almost making Tru vomit in reaction to her substantial lies. Tru spoke to the other three communication officers and discovered Jackie was telling the truth. He fired Enima and confined her to quarters until they reached spaceport.
He also had Amanda’s good and bad days to deal with. On her bad days, he regularly had to come between her and crewmen she was verbally attacking. After her last attack on a crewman, he counted up how many days he’d confined her to her quarters and was surprised to find she’d spent nearly two months of the stint in her quarters. He was torn between keeping her and dismissing her. He needed a reliable XO, but she was showing more trust in him, and he knew he’d destroy that if he gave up on her now.
And then there was Gracie. The computer was becoming increasingly belligerent toward everyone. Sometimes hours would pass before it would obey or respond to anyone’s commands, including his. His I.T. crew kept trying to convince him to let them fix it, but Tru refused. He knew what the problem was and he had to figure out how to deal with it himself.
True winced when the holographic masseuse found a knot and began working it out.
“What we need now is a good war,” Tru muttered. “Then the entire crew would have to focus all their energy on one thing instead of each other.”
War, Tru? Gracie asked.
“Yeah. Then my crew would have someone else to fight rather than each other.” Tru smiled. He knew the comment would provoke Gracie into an argument.
He looked up when someone flicked his ear. A slender woman with long brown hair and enchanting hazel eyes glared at him. Tru smiled at her.
“Don’t you think, Gracie?”
The holographic body of Gracie scolded him. You should be careful what you wish for, Truman.
Tru smiled. “Yes, mom.”
Your mother would be appalled by your joke, Truman Alex Barnett!
She walked over to a window, crossing her arms over her chest. Tru watched her, resting his chin on his arms and tried to look at his watch face. The old wrist watch had been passed down through generations on his mother’s side. Tru pulled it down so he could see the face and was overcome by a premonition.
Tru stood over a body. He sensed there were others with him, but he couldn’t turn, and he couldn’t see anyone else. He knelt down, tilting his head so he could see the body’s face, but the light wouldn’t change. All he could see was ragged clothes on the body. The clothes had been patched and repatched and were worn thin on the knees and elbows.
He heard something hiss and his stomach tensed. He turned toward the sound, but it was too dark to see what creature was hissing at him. He wanted to run away but he felt so scared that he wanted to run, something Tru never felt. Why was this creature scaring him so much. Tru decided to ignore that fear and he moved toward the sound, despite his better judgment.
The ghost in the darkness lunged at him.
It had the sweet face of a child, but when it screamed, it sounded like a banshee. She screamed at him, “YOU KILLED MY FATHER!”
No. She didn’t scream out loud. He heard the scream in his head. He…
He heard another voice in his head softly say, “Stop, Navta.”
It was too late. She hit him with the force of a boulder rolling down a mountain. Her mouth was wide open and filled with sharp, demon teeth. She latched onto his arm, tearing through the skin, down to the bone. The pain that followed went deep into his body, sparking an allergic reaction. He felt like he was suffocating. Everything around him spun out of control, veering to the side as if he were falling into a dark pit.
“Hold on, Tru,” he heard his mother say. It was something from his past she was talking about it. “Hold on, honey!”
Tru He was abruptly ripped back into the present.
Tru stared at the watch face. Gracie stood beside him, her hand on his shoulder.
Your vitals were slightly different with this premonition, Tru.
“Send the readings to Lareshth’s terminal.”
As you wish. And… Gracie looked at the door, her eyes narrowing.
“And?”
Your fave… Ensign Rhoades has overriden the lock and is entering. Gracie's holograph disappeared when the door opened.
Jackie walked in, saw Tru was naked, and immediately spun around, but she didn’t leave.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” she said.
“Which of you is sorry?”
Jackie didn’t turn back, but Tru saw a smile on her face. He rolled his eyes as he got up. He picked up his robe from the end of the bed and pulled it on.
“Holograph off,” Tru ordered as he stood up.
The holograph turned off, leaving them in a sphere with points of colored lights. The red, blue and green lights formed a defined grid around the sphere, but the realism lay between the dark spaces, where sequencers would create solid objects, life-like beings, and realistic scenery. The sphere’s door opened, letting in bright light. Tru tied the robe belt around his waist as they left the sphere.
“What do you want, Jackie?” Tru didn’t hide his irritation with her.
“I am detecting a distress signal, sir.”
Exiting, they climbed down three broad steps into a large room. The room outside contained four holographic spheres that were approximately thirty-two meters in circumference. Over the door of two of them, a red light slowly pulsed, indicating they were in use.
Tru headed for one of the doors, asking her, “Did it indicate the nation or ship?”
“No, sir, but regulations require we investigate and aid. It takes precedence over the cargo, you know.”
Tru smiled, glancing at her as he stepped through a disappearing door into the hall. “You ladies may not have done so well in etiquette and protocol, but you certainly have the regulations memorized.”
Jackie flashed a smile. “Thank you, sir.”
“Wasn’t really a compliment, Jackie. I’ll be up in a few minutes, and we can check it out.”
“Sir, the message said that they’ve taken heavy damage and loss of life. We should probably hurry.”
Tru stopped, turning to her. “So what you’re not saying, Jackie, is this a code yellow?”
“Red, sir.”
“Next time, lead with that. Go back to the Control and tell Aris to set coordinates for a dimensional reposition. I’ll be on the Control in a couple minutes.”
“The message—”
“I am in a robe, Jackie.”
She looked him up and down, then smiled. “Oh yeah. Mind if I get another peek at little Truman, sir?”
He shot her a disapproving glare.
She flashed a grin. “Gracie, transport me to the Control.”
She disappeared from the spot she was standing.
Tru sighed, turning away. “Her split personality is going to drive me to take Valium.”
Maybe you need to just stop being a Merchant Raitor captain and go back to being a psychiatrist.
“Oh really? You’d prefer that? Really?”
The computer didn’t respond. He shook his head. “Everyone says you are buggy, but they don’t even know the half of it!”
I’m ready when you are, Truman.
Tru sighed. She always had to get the last word in, didn’t she? “Transport me to my quarters, Gracie.”
He disappeared from the hall.
Tru materialized at the back of the Control. He walked to the captain’s chair and sat down.
“Are we ready for dimensional repositioning, Aris?” Tru asked the Paskian.
“Coordinates are set, sir. Are you sure you want to do a dimensional reposition, sir? We could just do half-light speed, be there in twice the time, but definitely alive.”
“Reposition, Aris. When we’re ready, countdown for the crew, Jackie.�
�
“Crew, brace for dimensional displacement,” Jackie announced over the ship intercom. “Brace for displacement in five…”
Aris let out a breath. “Is the hull braced, Gracie?” Aris asked.
Sure, Gracie answered.
“Four,” Jackie said but looked back at Tru with concern.
Aris looked back at Tru. “What does that answer mean, sir?”
“So would that be a yes or no, Gracie?” Tru asked.
Jackie glanced at the COM speaker above her head. “Three.”
She tersely replied, Yes. The hull is braced.
Aris reached out and hesitated. She looked up at him.
“Ya know,” Aris told him, “a lot of ships don’t do well with dimensional repositioning, sir.”
Tru smiled. “Prosperous can handle it.”
“Two,” Jackie said.
“Are you sure? I mean, maybe we should—”
“One,” Jackie finished.
Just push the button, Ensign Dariket!
Aris let out a breath. “That computer is freaky.” She reached out and her hand hovered over the button that activated the dimensional repositioning cells. “It’s been a nice life.” She flicked up the cover and hit the button.
Around them, things streaked and then whooshed. Laws of physics were defied as Prosperous leaped from her position to the coordinates Aris had set.
Chapter 21
“CAPTAIN, REPORT TO THE CONTROL. THERE’S A MERCHANT RAITOR SHIP responding to the distress beacon.”
Amidien slowly opened his eyes.
The message shattered the sanctuary of Amidien’s warm cocoon and the pleasant dream he was having about his beautiful spouse. It brought him back to the cruel reality that soon he’d have to order the death of more innocent lives.
Amidien turned, his hand dragging through the viscous substance that coated the inside of the cocoon. The air in the cocoon was thick with methane, like his home world’s atmosphere. His species could live in carbon-nitrogen atmospheres, but it accelerated their aging and lowered their resistance to disease.