by M. M. Perry
Naomi gave Chef a confused look.
“I’m… I think I’m supposed to stay here.”
“Anyone tell you that?”
“No. I just get the feeling they don’t want civilians along.”
“No one told me that,” Chef said grinning.
“No?”
“Nope. And I think we have room on our team for someone handy with the systems here. Someone who has clearance to muck about with doors and such. Seems a pretty useful addition to the team, if you ask me.”
“But Mike…”
Chef put her hand on her hip.
“If it means anything, I was in the camp that said we should tell you about that conformity bullshit. You aren’t delicate. But, you do bring out that alpha male thing in Mike. You’re his damsel or something. But I know that’s crap. You aren’t a damsel. Damsel’s don’t listen to Book’s harebrained schemes to jump up elevator shafts. Badasses do.”
Naomi and Chef shared a grin.
“So, we outta here, or what?” Chef asked.
Naomi looked around the shuttle bay. The thought of sitting around there doing nothing, waiting for everyone else to do their part didn’t appeal to her.
“Let’s do it.”
Naomi snuck around the edge of the shuttle bay while Chef kept lookout. Although she hadn’t been specifically told to stay close to Alsophea, Naomi figured she’d be escorted back to the civilians if she was caught. As they got closer to the soldier’s staging area, Chef pulled her behind some crates. She reached between two of them and pulled out a crumpled bundle.
“Here, put these on or you’ll stick out,” she said, passing Naomi the set of fatigues.
Naomi turned them over in her hands.
“This wasn’t spur of the moment, I see.”
“Gotta look out for each other, Patches. We’re from the Magellan. These Terries, or whatever, they won’t understand why you ought to come. But I know,” Chef said, peering around the crate as Naomi changed.
After Naomi slipped into the fatigues, she kicked her jumpsuit into a corner to hide it.
“Here,” Chef said, slipping a holster around Naomi’s waist. “Really should have given you one of these to start. You know how to handle it. And it would’ve saved us so much grief during the whole Casings thing.”
Naomi touched the gun, the cold black steel sitting heavily on her hip.
“Maybe I should stay,” she thought aloud, imagining someone telling Jeremy she’d been killed.
Chef shrugged.
“If you want to change your mind, I won’t think less of you. I swear it. You just looked like someone who needed a place to be right now. It’s going to be dangerous. But you’ve done dangerous. And you came out okay. So I honestly figured we could use you.”
Naomi tightened the harness.
“Alright, I’m ready.”
“Super. Now, try not to get the two Mike’s mixed up. The Alphea from over here is right about that, he’s not the same.”
They moved out from behind the crates and nonchalantly walked over to the staging area.
“Are we in the same group as both of them?” Naomi asked.
“Unfortunately, yes. He wants to personally keep an eye on us. I don’t know why,” Chef said, smirking at Naomi. “Don’t worry, by the time he notices you it’ll be too late. We don’t split off until we go up to the top. He won’t want to risk sending someone back with you by then. We’ll be committed.”
“He’ll be mad, though,” Naomi said, grimacing as she remembered how angry Mike had been with Book.
“Yep. Don’t worry about it though. I got your back this time. And I can take that stuff better than Book.”
They took a place near the back of the soldiers. Book looked up and did a double-take when he saw Chef and Naomi. Chef put her finger to her mouth, shushing Book. Naomi looked down, hoping no one else would recognize her. Save Mike, the soldiers from the Magellan were at the back of the group. Bullseye was at the front, leaning in close to another woman. Naomi felt antsy and exposed in the fatigues, sure at any moment Bullseye would look up and spot her.
Bullseye finished updating the soldier and looked up at them all. Naomi bent her knees just a little bit so Kitch’s massive frame would hide her.
“Alright, soldiers, you know what needs to be done. We need to get in, destroy all the power cells the enemy’s been collecting, and take out the main communications unit and its power cell. Should you see Trophy, or Yvette, shoot on sight. Without their leaders, the opposition should become disorganized. Should any surrender, tie them up, take them to the designated holding area, where I’ve stationed two soldiers, and then return to the fight. With any luck, we’ll be in and out, back here by the time the shuttles are all warmed up and ready to go. Move out.”
The soldiers split into squads and lined up behind him as they made their way through the ship. As the soldiers cleared out of the bay, Naomi knew it was the point of no return. She stepped around a civilian placing something along the wall of the bay. After she passed him by, she dismissed her doubts and committed to her decision to head off with Chef and the rest of the soldiers.
“They’re placing explosives,” Naomi whispered to Chef as they moved through the hallways as quietly as a large squad of soldiers could.
“Yeah. They’re gonna blow it as we leave. Make sure none of the other shuttles can leave after us,” Chef whispered back.
Naomi had trouble keeping pace. The soldiers were used to wearing weights in training, and moved swiftly through the corridors without them. Naomi was trying not to pant audibly, knowing her rapid breathing would attract unwanted attention. Book kept moving in front of her, trying to block her from view. Between Book and Chef, she managed to remain out of sight for most of two decks.
As they made their way through the deserted decks, Naomi kept flashing back to her furtive run from Casings. She lightly touched the pistol on her hip. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to shoot a person should she need to. She was determined not to get in that situation in the first place.
Two decks into their deployment, Kitch finally noticed her.
“Are you guys fucking serious?” Kitch asked, glowering. “Are you trying to make everybody hate us?”
“She’s useful,” Chef said, staring Kitch down.
Kitch stared right back. Naomi was afraid the fuss would draw attention, but Kitch eventually broke his gaze and shook his head.
“I’m officially stating my disapproval of what you’ve done. I want it noted.”
“So noted,” said Book. “Now, move that giant body of yours to the right six inches. Counterfeit Mike is looking our way.”
Kitch shuffled slightly to the right.
“Clear. Let’s move,” Mike whispered.
Naomi crouched behind the rest of her group. They soon deviated from the route she remembered leading Casings along. Instead of crossing the width of the ship to portside, they used a central stairwell that went up three decks. Naomi recognized it as the lift that took people to Observation on the Magellan. She expected they would stop on one of the decks before Observation, but they kept climbing all the way to the top. Once they reached the observation lounge, they began splitting into smaller groups. Chef pressed Naomi against the glass wall behind her, blocking her from Bullseye’s view as he directed the groups.
As Naomi was crushed against the glass of the window looking out into space, she allowed her mind to wander. She recalled the last time she’d been in Observation several months ago. Jeremy had woken from a bad dream in the pod. Unable to sleep, they decided to make the trip to the top deck to pass the time. The lounge had been empty save them, only a void full billions of stars to keep them company. Naomi pressed her cheek to the glass, remembering how they fell into the moment, abandoning all caution. Jeremy’s hands, Jeremy’s mouth. They stopped before it was too late, but it had taken hours of counting to keep the feelings at bay. They hadn’t dared to go into Observation since. Even the memory of it made he
r heart race.
She glanced at her wrist and let a small sigh escape her. Here, in the Tereshkova, there were no counselors to snatch her up. She could revel in her feelings. She wondered if that was why the civilians fought. She hadn’t thought to ask Alsophea. She wondered, for the first time, why Carrie had never mentioned anything about the trouble on the Tereshkova.
Naomi pressed her hand against the cool glass of the floor-to-ceiling window just as she had that night. The cool glass was a refuge for her hot skin. The heat and moisture from her hand dissipated on the surface causing it to fog up.
Revolution had never been part of their long conversations over the last year. Maybe Carrie had been jealous all that time of what she perceived as Naomi’s freedom. Did Carrie want to revel in her own feelings so much that she was willing to die for it? Did the entire ship? Naomi found it hard to believe. Two years wasn’t so long to wait. Mission’s End meant an end to conformity and everything that went with it. They’d waited so long already. She wondered, if she had the choice, if she’d risk her life for that freedom or stick it out to the end.
Naomi was reluctant to look into the bright blue and red glow outside, fearing the awe of the great goddess beyond the glass. Without even looking, she knew they had come far enough around Badb to see her face in the suns of the Xan system. Naomi’s eyes found the swirling surface of the planet and clung to it, allowing the atmospheric eddies to soothe her as she traced them with her finger. In the presence of such power, such overwhelming vastness, she felt like a mote on a dream’s wing. Everything around her stilled, sucked away as if her very thoughts were being pulled into the gravitational abyss beyond the window.
Badb. It was named for a war goddess, that much her increasingly numb mind could still dredge up. Her greatness protected the other planets from the onslaughts of space. Would be destroyers of worlds, formless and unthinking, could not escape her embrace, drawn unerringly to her huge, churning, gassy body, never to be seen again.
When Naomi had last seen her in Observation, Badb had been a red marble in the distance. The giantess was so massive they’d be passing her for over a month, slowly making their way just out of range her terrible grasp, just beyond the rings of the deadly bones of planets who had strayed too close to Badb eons ago in their endless cycles around the twin suns at the center of the Xan system. Naomi wondered why she had been so hesitant to come up and see her. She was amazing to behold.
Naomi contemplated if she would fall into the planet if she stared at it long enough, falling forever through the storms and poisons, her mummified body being churned to dust before it ever hit the surface. A thought occurred to her, that maybe that was all Badb was - a collection of the dusty remnants of those who gazed into her for too long and had been caught up in her mighty inhalation. She didn’t feel Chef tugging urgently at her sleeve. She didn’t hear Book speak to her. Her head was too full with Badb and the awe and fear it inspired within her.
“I’ve heard some people react to it that way. I’m jealous really. Nothing has ever made me feel so, so, well, so anything really,” Book said as Chef tried to move Naomi away from the window.
“It won’t go well for my plan to convince the counterfeit she’s essential,” Chef hissed at Book, “if she’s staring out the window like a loon, now will it. Quick, he’s going to notice us any second. Help me snap her out of it.”
Book forcefully turned Naomi around and snapped his fingers in front of her face several times.
“I didn’t mean literally, you idiot,” Chef said, slugging Book in the arm.
Book grinned and he patted Naomi’s cheek a few times in quick succession.
“Hello in there. You’re supposed to be a key member of our party, capable of anything on the spur of the moment. Come on now.”
Naomi’s eyes regained focus as Book smacked her cheeks lightly.
“There we are, back to the ship now, forget about the pretty marble.”
“What’s… Are we going back now?” Naomi asked dreamily.
“What is she doing here?!”
Book stood still as stone. He spoke rapidly to Naomi.
“Let’s just do our best, shall we?”
“Sir,” Chef began, taking a step forward.
“Don’t you sir me,” Bullseye said angrily as he shoved his way through the other soldiers. “I knew it. I knew you would do something to jeopardize this.”
“What’s going on?” Mike asked, following close behind.
He spotted Naomi. When her eyes met his she came fully back to her senses and remembered what was happening.
“Oh,” Mike began, a mixture of emotions crossing his face.
“Oh what?”
Bullseye turned on him angrily.
“It’s just Naomi,” he said, straightening.
“It’s just Naomi?” Bullseye blustered. “That’s all you have to say?”
“Look,” Mike said, his own ire rising, “Alphea, the one who sent us here, the reason you even have a place to go after this, told us not to let Naomi out of our sight. You might trust all those people down in the shuttle bay, but we don’t.”
“You’re telling me you ordered this?”
“Of course I ordered it. My people don’t break rank!”
Chef tried to keep her face still. Kitch stood off to the side, trying not to be noticed.
“There is no possible way we are copies of each other,” Bullseye growled. “I don’t care what Alphea says. You’re in charge of her safety. If she gets in the way, I’ll personally lock her in the next utility closet. You can pick her up on the way out.”
Bullseye stormed off.
“That was quick thinking, boss,” Book said out of the side of his mouth.
Mike scowled at them.
“Come on. I don’t even know why I pretend to be in charge.”
As they fell in line behind Mike, Chef leaned over to Naomi.
“What did you see? In the planet?”
Naomi avoided looking back out of the window.
“The end of everything, I think.”
Twelve
They waited soundlessly in a hallway just outside the bridge for the other squads to get into position. So far as Naomi could tell, everything was going smoothly. Their squad had silently taken out two guards as they approached their entrance to the bridge, and hadn’t seen any others.
“Wait here,” Bullseye whispered, “while I check on the other teams. Try not to get in any more trouble while I do.”
He glared at Chef and Naomi before he moved around the corner to speak into his radio. He ducked out of sight into an empty room. Chef leaned against the wall after Bullseye was out of earshot.
“I don’t know why he’s bothering trying to be stealthy,” she said. “No one’s here.”
“Yeah, where the hell is everybody?” Book asked, looking around. “They don’t have anyone guarding this area? They can’t all be on the bridge, can they?”
“If they are all on the bridge, it’s going to be quite the shootout,” Chef said.
“Hopefully the other teams have done their job. I wonder if Casings is in there,” Mike said.
“That guy isn’t Casings. Casings was shot, remember?” Chef corrected.
“Wish I had been there to see it,” Book said darkly.
“I kind of wish I hadn’t,” Mike said uncomfortably.
“Didn’t want to see a traitor shot?” Book asked with a scowl. “He stopped being your friend long before this, boss.”
“I know,” Mike said quietly, “but it’s hard to accept. I’m sure he truly was my friend at some point, no matter what he said at the end. He saved my life more than once. Risked his own to do it. He could have had his day in the sun, moved me out of the way just by doing nothing. Standing by and letting me die. I don’t know what changed or when. Part of me hoped that Casings was still in there somewhere. That he could be rehabilitated. Somehow.”
“You can’t rehabilitate that,” Chef said. “He was going to k
ill you.”
“Yeah, I guess I know that. Even that god-awful counseling wouldn’t have helped him.”
Naomi flinched, her mind racing unbidden to Maria.
“No,” she said, quiet as a mouse, “it wouldn’t.”
Chef put her hand on Naomi’s. The unexpected contact reminded her powerfully of the friendship she’d shared with Maria. She felt her breath catch.
“No,” Naomi said, her eyes fixed on the floor as she remembered Maria’s face the last time she’d seen her. “That would’ve made him different, but not better. When you eventually bumped into him again, he’d be haunting some old hangout of yours, wondering why he was there, remembering just enough to know something important happened there once, in that cafeteria, that recreation room, the Gardens watching him try to figure out why you seemed vaguely familiar, but eventually giving up on trying to remember. You’d see him in the hallways, as he passes listlessly from his daily work shift to his leisure unit and sits there, watching a show but not seeing it. Moving his piece in a game but not playing it. Listening to music but not hearing it. Lying next to you in your sleeping pod, but not feeling you for the rest of his life. Being haunted by the living.”
Naomi looked up at Mike and their eyes locked. Chef moved close to Naomi and put her arm around her.
“Patches, did something happen before we left?” she asked.
“Maria. I’d lived with her for years. I moved out a couple days ago, trying to find my own peace of mind. Trying to fill my days with distractions. Maria, she loved meeting new people. She really took to her new unitmates. She liked one of them a little too much. I saw her just before the mission started. I wish I could say she was the first friend who’s been counseled.”
Mike gripped his weapon in anger.
“We’re going to do our damndest to make sure that never happens again. I’m sorry about your friend. We should’ve acted sooner.”
“If you’re done having your moment,” Bullseye said, “we should move onto the bridge. The other teams are in position.”