The 13: Mission's End Book One

by M. M. Perry

  While he was stewing, Naomi rolled over, blinking in the light.

  “Mike,” she said blearily.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. The room is dark as space without any light. I weighed the chances my cursing at stubbed toes would wake you against the lamp and, there you are,” he said.

  “It’s ok. Are you going to sleep now? Or are you going to stay up?”

  “I was just trying to figure that out,” Mike said, rubbing his tired eyes.

  “Then, I’ll turn on the light here,” Naomi said, reaching up to turn on the reading light over the bed, “so you can find your way after you turn off yours.”

  “To the bed?” Mike asked.

  “Yes, of course. We can share. Unless, if I make you uncomfortable,” Naomi began.

  “No. I mean, well, in a sense. I,” Mike stammered.

  “You’re afraid you like me and don’t know what to think about it. It’s okay. It happens. All I can say is this: You won’t discover the truth sitting over there and thinking about it all night. Come and lie down or I’ll have to get up.”

  Mike stood at the command and began to remove his formal uniform.

  “It happens?”

  “Mike, civilians might share our sleeping pods more readily than you, but we do know the difference between maximum compatibility and just a pod mate.”

  Mike unlaced his heavy boots and looked up at Naomi, whose eyes were droopy with sleep.

  “Maximum compatibility?”

  “It’s a thing we say up there. The computer tries to match you with companions who have high compatibility with you so you’ll get along better. I don’t know exactly how it does it, since it isn’t just interests. Todd loved board games. The rest of us could have lived the rest of our lives without ever picking one up and never have missed them. But we loved playing with Todd, so maybe that’s it. Anyway, I’m tired so I’m babbling. Max compat, that’s what we say when something is beyond just friendship. When there’s a connection that’s deeper. You need to know when you have it, because that’s when you have to be careful. When being with that person can be a little too much. The monitors on our wrists check more than just heart rate and blood pressure. Endorphins, hormone levels, brain wave activity - it knows the difference. So you have to trick it. Whenever you feel too much, you meditate on whatever works for you.

  “Anyway, sometimes you think you’re max compat with someone, but it turns out you aren’t. When you think you’re more than just pod mates with someone, you can only find out over time. It might pass, Mike. Don’t worry about it.”

  Mike climbed under the covers and blushed as he noticed Naomi wasn’t wearing anything.

  “Do you ever wear anything when you sleep?”

  Naomi looked over at Mike and saw a thin pair of small pants on him.

  “I don’t even know what those things are. You guys wear bed pants? We don’t wear anything under the jumpsuits, so yes, unless you want to wear the jumpsuit to bed, and why would you do that?”

  “You mean to say you’ve been running around in fatigues without any underpants on?”

  “Yes, of course. I thought those fatigues were uncomfortable. They didn’t support anything. The jumpsuit is so much nicer. I have to wear those bed pants underneath?”

  “Yes, and there’s a bed top.”

  “For my breasts?”

  “Yes.”

  Naomi was so quiet Mike thought she’d fallen back to sleep.

  “The jumpsuits are so much nicer.”

  Mike turned off the reading light and lay back against the pillow next to her.

  “Naomi?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happens if you do have two people who are max compat? I mean, with you. I mean, you have one, then you have another at the same time.”

  He sighed at the awkwardness of it all and his inability to communicate his question well.

  Naomi rolled over and put her arm across Mike’s chest, resting her head close to his on the pillow. He could feel her breath as she spoke.

  “Yeah, I get it. Nothing different really. They usually all get a unit together so they can be together. If you’re max compat with someone, you’re probably at least highly compatible with anyone else who would be max compat with that same person. I mean, you both like the same type of person. So hopefully you all get along well enough for it to work. Jeremy told me he briefly lived with a trio that didn’t work out. They were always bickering. He transferred out pretty quick. They weren’t being very safe with their emotions and it’s hard getting to know someone who ends up counseled. For a while, Jeremy and I thought Maria and Todd would make four for us. We all liked each other so much. We were probably as close as you could be without it going quite to that level of companionship. Maria liked Todd, and he really liked her, but she wanted to try more things. She neglected him a bit, always being away in other units. So they drifted apart. When Todd lost Maria’s interest, he drifted a bit from me and Jeremy as well. I think he just felt like he wanted to find another group to try with, to see if he could find that connection again.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mike said, putting his arm around Naomi, “I didn’t mean to make you think about it again. I just wondered.”

  “I take it that’s not how things work down here,” Naomi said, smiling. “I don’t know how you all can live on the same ship yet be so isolated.”

  “No, people here aren’t as relaxed with that as you all are. I wonder if we could learn it though. It sounds very peaceful.”

  “Yes. It simplifies things. It’s such a small ship, when you think about it in terms of companionship. The population of possible unitmates isn’t really all that big. Especially when you compare it to where we came from. I can’t even imagine living in a place with billions of people to meet. Here though, it makes it easier to find the best match if you don’t have to worry that people will be pairing off in permanent monogamous relationships, limiting your choices. Though there are some that want to be exclusive, too. I don’t think anyone besides the counselors think that’s a problem. It’s their choice. They should be allowed to make it. So maybe we can change that.”

  “Do you,” Mike asked, “want exclusivity? Or, does Jeremy?”

  “No. Adding more people to our unit makes us happy. We do love each other. But we love others as well. It doesn’t lessen our love for each other to love someone else. But, I don’t begrudge people who don’t feel that way. Everyone has their own comfort level. And that’s okay.”

  “So it doesn’t bother you if I might… if I enjoy your company more than just casually?”

  “No, Mike. You’re kind and brave. You’re my friend. If you decided you were fond of me, then I’d return your affections. I might not feel the same way I do about Jeremy, not yet at least. But I’ve been with him for eight years now. It takes time to figure out. Don’t worry about it, Mike. You have time to decide. Now, unless you want comfort, we probably should try to sleep. Tomorrow… tomorrow I have to relive that moment with Maria many times over. I’d like to sleep tonight, in case tomorrow night the sleep doesn’t come so easily.”

  Mike remained awake until Naomi’s breathing became slow and steady. He leaned his head against hers and whispered into her hair.

  “Thank you, Naomi.”

  Fourteen

  Mike pushed the potatoes on his tray around listlessly, watching the soldiers streaming in and out of the cafeteria. It had been a long day already. He wished he could simply go to bed; he needed the rest. But Alphea was constantly reminding him that time was short. He didn’t need the reminders. At the celebration the night before, honoring his team for their bravery, there had been too many pointed questions from Command. Mike hadn’t liked the way Yvette had scrutinized him as he answered them. Mike had the feeling she was piercing right through his veil of secrecy, ignoring everything he said and reading the truth on his face.

  Despite his nerves, they stuck to their story: Casings and Trigger had turned on them; they d
idn’t know why; Casings had abducted Henry and taken him to the captain of the Tereshkova; When Mike’s team tried to rescue him, they’d found his body bearing signs of harsh torture.

  The idea that the officers of the Tereshkova might be trying to spy on the Magellan bothered Command the most. The Alphea from the Tereshkova had come up with that embellishment.

  “Let them think they’ve been double-crossed. It will unease them. We know they were in talks, aiding the Tereshkovan Command with their escape. If we can make them believe it was a double-cross, that will help your story go down easier,” she told them.

  Mike had explained that the part they were meant to retrieve had been smashed, and that the Tereshkovans had been laying in ambush, prepared to kill them all. This thread of truth helped meld their lies together. It was clear to Mike from her reaction that Yvette had expected the part to be delivered.

  Finally, Mike told them Naomi had given them the idea to cannibalize components from the Tereshkova that could be crafted into a permanent fix for the Magellan and how to sabotage the Tereshkova. They capped the story off with a valiant tale Chef in particular relished telling, where Naomi had died in the rush to get to the shuttle.

  So far, Command had bought their story. Command immediately assembled a team to begin repairs on the power regulator. Mike attributed their haste to the spectacular sight of the descent of the Tereshkova into Badb’s atmosphere. All the monitors in the large cafeteria that had been converted to a reception area for the heroes had broadcast the spectacle non-stop. The ship blazed red as large pieces broke up in the turbulent outermost atmosphere of the planet, miles above where the first layer of the hazy blue and gold surface of the planet swallowed the fragments.

  Despite things seemingly returning to normal, Mike couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. Each soldier he took into his confidence, revealing the truth and then taking them back to his room to meet Naomi, he trusted with his life. But each time, as he entered his room, he remembered he’d felt that way about Casings and then he’d worry this was the spy, the one who would turn and cut his throat and then hers, stopping their coup before it could take hold. The feeling of imminent danger was only growing with each successful recruitment.

  Mike had been overly cautious in who he’d picked so far, choosing only soldiers he knew were already on their way to insubordination against Command. But he was running out of those types of soldiers and would soon have to trust his gut once again. He watched the room, glowering as soldiers laughed with each other, wondering which one of them would be the next Casings.

  Chef slapped a tray down next to his, snapping him out of his dark thoughts.

  “So far, so good, right?” she asked, taking a bite of steamed carrot.

  “Yes. But so far it’s low-hanging fruit. After dinner though, it’s going to get harder. These won’t be soldiers who we know are fed up with Command. These will be ones my gut tells me have doubts about what we’re being told to do,” Mike said.

  Book joined them, his tray over-flowing, a chunk of bread stuffed in his mouth.

  “Kitch is keeping away,” he said around the bread. “He’s going to play the dissident of our group. Act a little unhappy about what went down. Says he’ll see if anyone approaches him. He’s doing a pretty good job, too. You should have heard him grumping around the fitness room.”

  “That’ll help. We’ll just freeze out anyone who approaches him. He was never particularly close to any of us before. Should be believable,” Mike said.

  “Everything alright with Naomi?” Chef asked.

  “It hasn’t been a great day. Each time she recalls the story it’s like it happens all over again for her, but she’s holding up okay. It’s been effective. Cannonball teared up.”

  Book chuckled.

  “You’re joking. Cannonball only has the one emotion. Pissed off.”

  “He has two now,” Mike said, spooning some pudding absently.

  “I’ll be damned. You sure he’s not a doppelganger?”

  “Cannonball is the size of a shuttle, Book. Where the hell would he hide to get over here?” Chef asked.

  “He could cling to the back. Like a well-muscled leech.”

  Chef rolled her eyes.

  “How many have we got so far?” she asked, returning her attention to Mike.

  “Thirty-two. It’s a good start. Tough part, that comes next.”

  “No,” Book said, smacking the table for emphasis. “Trust yourself. The guys you’re thinking about approaching now, they’ll follow you. The tough part is what we’re going to do about the ones we all know won’t. If we can get another twenty or so, or even just a few persuasive commanders who’ll bring their squads with them, that’ll be about a quarter of us. That might be enough that when it comes time to choose sides, the ones who aren’t die-hard loyalists will just join us. I can guarantee you, most of these people had, at the very least, a moment of doubt when they spaced those kids. Probably more than that a moment for most. If we can find some way to prove the ones in Command who ordered that, and I mean the ones who really ordered it, not the scapegoats we all saw flushed, if we can prove those guys are still in charge… you show everyone that, our people stand up and say they’re with you, the rest fall in line. Then it’s just a matter of keeping the leftovers from alerting Command.”

  Mike smiled at Book.

  “You sound like you have this all figured out.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m trying anyway. I’ve been sifting through records as best I can, but I’m going to have to use brute force on that computer to dig any further. When I do that, the hammer will come down quick. When I do, there’s a good chance I’ll find what we need, but there is no guarantee. If we do take that route, we need to be ready for it. Because when I crack that egg, they’ll know what’s coming,” Book said.

  “I’ll let you know if it looks like that’s our only option. But only if we’ve run out of ideas.”

  Book saluted Mike, stood, grabbed his tray and headed for the recycler. Mike turned to Chef.

  “I’m going to approach Mack, Cheese, Lamby and Sticks tonight. Keep an eye on them, in case I’m wrong. Make sure they don’t go calling up the bridge.”

  “Those four don’t give me any shivers, boss. I think they’ll be fine. But I’m on it. I’m sorry, by the way. I meant to sneak you some extra bedding last night. I couldn’t get away in time though. I think the chief communications officer has a thing for me. Wouldn’t shut up long enough for me to excuse myself.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Mike said, waving his hand. “It isn’t necessary.”

  Chef started to get up from the table, but stopped halfway out of her chair, then sat again. She drummed her fingers on the table.

  “Boss?”

  Mike, who was already lost in thought considering who to approach next, turned to her.

  “What?”

  “She’s romantically inclined toward another fella, that’s what.”

  Mike stared blankly before he realized what Chef was talking about. He groaned and put his face in his hands.

  “Chef, don’t get all momma bear on me right now. I know she’s your friend. I’m not trying to take her away from her… from Jeremy. If I understood what’s going on, I’d assuage those fears of yours. Let’s just say, it’s complicated for me, not so much for her. If you need more than that, talk to her yourself. But not right now. Right now, we need to do this.”

  “Alright then, boss. I’ll get off your back. For now,” Chef said, mollified.

  In another part of the Magellan, not so far away from the military’s mess hall, Jeremy was having dinner with a couple of pilots he’d gone through training with that were also part of Alphea’s rebellion. Jeremy was wearing his fatigues, which made him stand out, but had the benefit of keeping people distant. Most civilians had little interaction with the military. Jeremy’s attire, however, wasn’t entirely uncommon. In the last day, people had noticed an increased military presence in and aroun
d the shuttle bay, something they assumed was due to the Tereshkova situation.

  Jeremy was laughing with his friends when they abruptly went quiet. He turned apprehensively to find Jamil behind him. He smiled, glad to see his unitmate. Then he remembered that Jamil was a spy for Command.

  “Hello, Jeremy.”

  “Jamil,” Jeremy said, holding his smile steady. “It’s been a few days. I was thinking about you, actually. I should have checked in on you after Brian left.”

  Jeremy wanted to despise Jamil, but his sentiment was genuine. He had meant to check up on Jamil, especially since he’d so abruptly transferred out of Family at Alphea’s suggestion, but the last few days his mind had been elsewhere.

  “See you in the game room, alright Jeremy?” one of his fellow pilots said, standing to leave, a concerned look on his face.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there shortly. You two head over,” Jeremy said, waving them off with false confidence.

  He was glad the wrist panel wasn’t part of the military uniform, otherwise everyone would know how nervous he was. He gestured for Jamil to sit.

  “I didn’t know you were military, Jeremy,” Jamil said, taking a seat and studying him. “I thought you were a pilot like your friends there.”

  “Oh,” Jeremy said, “I was conscripted when the trouble started. The military occasionally does that with pilots. After the first shuttle launched, they realized it was a little foolish to put all their hopes on the one. So, they readied a second team.”

  “Didn’t you just get your wings?”

  Jeremy kept his cool, remembering what Alphea had said.

  “Oh,” he forced a laugh, “no, I don’t get to fly it. I mean, I’m sure I’m ready, but there’s no way my high opinion of myself trumps seniority. I’m part of the crew assigned to pre-checks.”

  “Ah.”

  Jamil paused. Jeremy could tell Jamil was trying to decide whether to ask something more.