Voyage

by E M Gale

  “Well, I–”

  ‘–did my first proper job. Then got drunk. Then got laid.’

  I smiled. “I’m think I’m getting the hang of this mercenary malarkey.”

  “Really? So… all you do is muck around”–she frowned–“setting fire to people’s offices–”

  ‘Will no one forget that?’

  “–and get drunk?”

  ‘And kill people.’

  I frowned. And looked out of the window.

  ‘Think about it later, Clarke.’

  “Please, just don’t give me the ‘work in engineering’ line. I’m sick of it.” I shook my head and then gulped some beer.

  “I won’t. I imagine you’d find it boring,” she said, chuckling. “Actually, I think mercenary is a pretty good match for you.”

  I stared at her in shock.

  ‘What? What is she getting at?’

  She grinned. “It’s all fun so long as you don’t”–she looked lost in thought–“‘see any action’, I suppose is the phrase.”

  I stared at her, took in her expertly straightened bob, perfect makeup and calm look, and tried not to think about what I had done yesterday.

  ‘Whatever. You don’t know what you’re talking about, Anna.’

  “Do you find working on the bridge interesting?” I asked to change the subject.

  “It’s great,” she said, leaning forward in eagerness, her eyes shining. “I even got to pilot it the other day.”

  ‘Oh? And would you pilot it for me, Anna?’

  “Cool, what’s it like to fly?” I asked.

  ‘I’d rather learn to fly the ship than get attacked in alien jungles.’

  “Oh, it’s so much fun! You see the stars going past and we go sooo fast!”

  I frowned at that. “Surely it’d be the ones far away. The ones nearby go past too fast to see, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s the star-field blur. We can’t get too close to any stars,” she informed me. “But when we’re getting up to speed after stopping, we see them whipping past.”

  “Is that why it’s always night on board ship?” I mused, mostly to myself.

  ‘A spaceship is not a bad place for a vampire.’

  “Yes, I love looking at the stars, even if they are the ones so very far away.”

  I laughed at that. “Anna, a few weeks ago there would have been no way for you to ever see this star up close.” I pointed at where I knew the sun would be, even though the bar hid it from view.

  She looked lost in thought at that. “Yeah, you’re right.” She sighed and idly twiddled her wine glass stem in her hands. I guessed she was thinking about home.

  So to distract her, I asked: “Maybe I could come up and get a tour round the bridge? Rob’s already taken me around engineering.”

  “Ah, sorry, Clarke. You’re not allowed on the bridge.”

  ‘Why? I promise I won’t press any buttons. Not even the tempting big red ones.’

  “Really? Just me?” I felt a little put out.

  ‘I haven’t even thought about mutiny. Plus no one would follow me, and the mercenaries could take me if I tried to take over… Unless they’re on my side, but no, that wouldn’t work, since they wouldn’t follow me.’

  “No, not just you. The rule is ‘no grunts on the bridge’.”

  I raised my eyebrows at that.

  ‘Grunts?’

  “Oh, come on,” she said. “If you want to be a mercenary, that’s fine, but then you can’t be mad at being called a grunt.”

  I shrugged.

  ‘She’s got a point. And anyway, I’ve been called far worse.’

  “Any other stupid rules you have to put up with?”

  She laughed. “Well, no non-humans allowed either.”

  ‘Ah, cover all the bases. What do vampires count as?’

  ‘Which non-humans are the rule for? I presume that means the orcs, though all the orcs are grunts, so it’s overkill.’

  ‘Hmm. orcs… not human… Hold on, as a vampire should I be drinking orc blood?’

  ‘Argh, it’s a little late to think about this now, Clarke, given you slept with and drank from Grom last night. Shit.’

  I put my hand to my forehead.

  ‘Still, I feel fine at the moment. I’ll worry about alien blood later. I seem to be leaving a lot of things to worry about later.’

  “That’s speciesist,” I said to Anna.

  She laughed again. “I wonder if they use that word here? Anyway, it’s not like the techies can come up whenever they want either.”

  ‘Yeah, but they’re not completely banned. Twice.’

  She looked at her watch and finished off her wine in a lady-like manner. Anna would never swill it around and gulp it down, even if she were in a hurry. “Anyway, I guess we better head back. I gotta get ready for takeoff.”

  I nodded. “Let’s mosey then,” I commented, swirling around the last quarter of my beer before downing it.

  * * *

  I strolled up the corridor and knocked on Mark’s door. The ship wasn’t due to take off for about an hour and a half, but he was back early as well.

  “Oh, hey, Clarke, what’s up?”

  I smiled. “Can I come in? I wanna chat.”

  “Oh, yeah, sure.” Mark showed me in, looking curious. I paused and looked round his room. He was tidy, unlike Rob, but not Spartan. He had books out on the table. From the looks of it, he’d decided to study for a promotion.

  “Is it hard?” I pointed at the books. “Are the computer systems that different from back home?”

  He glanced at the books in confusion, then grinned. “Nah, logic’s logic really, and some of the systems are still run on C, even though they told me it was out of date in college.” He shrugged. “But the exams are easy and I’ll get a pay rise when I pass them.”

  I nodded and sat down, smiling.

  “So what’s up?” He was giving me that curious look again and, as usual when he did that, I involuntarily remembered that his dad was a cop. Mark would have made a good cop, I reckoned, but his dad had strenuously suggested that he find himself a better career. Writing code and fixing computers at least didn’t usually involve night shifts or tussling with junkies.

  I smiled charmingly. “I’ve been thinking about it and you’re right.”

  Mark nodded and sat down. “Oh? About what? You think we should leave this ship?”

  I stared at him. “Uh… no.” I smiled again and wondered if I was overdoing it. “I think this might not be a smuggling ship.”

  ‘It might be a UESF ship… Or arms runners.’

  “So you think it is a pirate ship?”

  I shook my head.

  “Jane said there are lot of mercenaries for one tiny ship. What do you guys do?”

  I frowned.

  ‘Kill people… as contract killers…’

  “It’s a dangerous bit of space.”

  ‘There was the grenade… if anything they might need more mercs.’

  “Yes, but what do you spend your time doing?”

  I shrugged and then told the truth. “Practice avoiding a glorious death.”

  “A what?”

  “Death on the battlefield.”

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway, I’ve tried to investigate.”

  Mark leaned forward, his interest caught. “How? What did you find out? When?”

  I frowned. “Dude, quit with the questions, this isn’t an interview.”

  “OK, OK, just tell me the story in your own way.” Then he grinned, well aware that he was winding me up.

  “OK, so I couldn’t find any contraband, the stuff in docking bay seems legit–”

  “I don’t know whether I’m relieved or not. If they’re not smugglers, how are they making their money?”

  “Mark, that was a question.”

  He sighed.

  “OK, so I looked around, I couldn’t find any hidden storage.”

  Mark was nodding, but watching me piercingly.

>   “Look, the point is, I’ve spoken to the mercs, and they don’t know anything. They’re paid to not know anything, or rather not to care about the why’s or who’s of their orders, so it’s not surprising they’re not helpful.”

  Mark nodded. “I’ve asked around engineering–”

  “What did you find out?”

  Mark grinned. “Clarke, always with the questions!”

  I shook my head.

  “Anyway, I didn’t find much, but I got the feeling that they were hiding something. They were shifty.” He eyed me here. “Like you are being shifty, so I know you’re not telling me everything.”

  He stared me out.

  ‘Dammit.’

  “Well?”

  ‘Damn him. Shame I can’t trust Rob to do this. He’d give everything away.’

  I smiled beguilingly. “I’m not shifty.”

  “Clarke, come on. I’ve known you for years.”

  ‘Well, I suppose a bargain can need a bargaining chip.’

  “OK, I’ll tell you what I found out, all of it, holding nothing back, if”–I glanced at him–“and only if you agree to do something for me.”

  Mark leaned back and crossed his arms. “I hope you don’t think I’m dumb enough to agree until you tell me what it is.”

  “I want you to investigate what this ship is up to and tell me about it.”

  “I’m already doing that.”

  “Well, what have you done?”

  “I asked around engineering, trying to find out how the captain makes his money. They just mentioned the cargo and occasional passengers, but they weren’t being honest.”

  “But you have access to the computer systems, did you look there?”

  “You mean hack in to the ship’s systems?”

  I grinned. “Yup. You’re good at network security, and if poachers make the best gamekeepers, it must work the other way too.”

  He frowned. “No, Clarke, I don’t know why you’d ask me. Every time you ask me to subvert the computer systems to get you more computing power I say no. And I never bounced your IP address after the first time you tricked me into doing that for you. And you’ve still not told me why the yakuza were after you.”

  “A misunderstanding. Come on, it’s not like the computers were being used for anything. And there’s nothing wrong with pretending to be from another institution, ours didn’t have a subscription–”

  “That doesn’t mean you can just nick what you want, Clarke!”

  I sighed. This was why I didn’t like asking Mark for a favour. It always turned into some abstruse legal discussion.

  “OK, OK, this time it’s different. We’re on a possibly grey-market ship, OK? So it’s fine to… investigate their data.”

  “And whose fault is it that we’re on this ship? Did you tell any of us it was a smuggling ship? And where did you get those fake IDs, now that you mention it?”

  “Bloody hell, Mark, we were skint. Would you rather be in a homeless shelter on Ragnarok IV?”

  “It would be honest.”

  “Or cut up as a government experiment to learn about time travel?”

  “Why would they cut us up?”

  “We wouldn’t be free.”

  “That’s not the same thing at all.”

  I sighed. “Look, we’re on this ship, we have jobs and income and food, and thanks for saying, ‘Thank you, Clarke, for sorting that shit out.’ None of you have bothered to thank me and none of you had a plan. So why the hell is the only thing I hear about my bloody job or your bloody morals, hmm?”

  Mark sighed. “I’m sorry about that. I guess you just did what you thought was right, and I guess we should’ve thought a bit more deeply rather than just jumping on board.”

  ‘Not quite what I wanted to hear, but close enough.’

  “And now we’re on board, I think we should find out what we’ve gotten ourselves into,” I said.

  “Agreed.”

  “And I really need you to have to good poke around the computer systems for… anything odd, I guess.”

  Mark leaned back and eyed me. “I might be able to do that. I’m not going to do anything illegal.”

  “Mark, where are cigarettes illegal? Where is orcian coffee illegal? You don’t know what is and what isn’t illegal. Perhaps there’s no data protection laws for ‘independent trade ships’.”

  “Unethical is the word then. But you’re right, I probably could have a look around.”

  I grinned. “Why not? If they are dodgy, we need to know, and this is the only way we’ll find stuff out.”

  He was frowning, but also nodding.

  “In fact, your responsibility is to find out, ’cos maybe our lives might depend on it, and you’re the only one who can do this. I’ve not even got a log-on to the comp systems. Well, other than Rob’s, the idiot, he set his password to l3–”

  “Don’t tell me, Clarke! And why do you know his password?”

  I shrugged.

  “I’ll have a look around, but don’t expect anything dodgy from me.”

  “Cool. Oh, and keep this from the others.” I shrugged. “You can tell Jane if you think that’s fun conversation.”

  Mark scoffed. “I’m sure I can tell whomever I like.”

  ‘Well, I s’pose I can’t stop him.’

  “And in return”–he eyed me–“you’ll tell me everything you’ve found out. Everything, Clarke.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He waited for a moment. “Well, go on then, what haven’t you told me?”

  I grinned. “Fair’s fair, I’ll tell you what I got when you’ve got something. Is only fair, right?”

  “That’s not exactly what I meant. What about what you know now?”

  I shrugged. “I’m still investigating the mercs, I’ve not got anything concrete yet.”

  Mark eyed me and then nodded.

  “OK, but answer me some questions. Where did you get the IDs and why were you hiding from the yakuza?”

  I blew the air out of my mouth and stared at the ceiling. He was watching me, and I figured the truth might best salt the bread. “Fine. I bought the IDs from some nefarious types–”

  “The yakuza?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then why–”

  “I told you, it was something of a misunderstanding.”

  Mark was watching me. “Oh?”

  I sighed. “Yes.” I shook my head. “Bloody incomprehensible culture where gangsters dress like normal businessmen.”

  “So you accidentally annoyed a gangster? How?”

  I shrugged. “Cultural differences.”

  “I thought you were part Japanese.”

  “My grandma forgot to teach me about gangsters.”

  “So what did you do, Clarke?”

  ‘Bloody Mark.’

  “I accidentally insulted him, not deliberately. If I’d known the culture, I’d have known he was yakuza.”

  Mark seemed happy with that.

  “OK, now was that really so hard? You could have just told us that.”

  “I was too busy running.”

  “OK. Let’s meet up to talk about the ship in a week,” said Mark. I smiled and scarpered before he decided to ask me how I’d insulted the yakuza.

  We had just under an hour until takeoff by this point as I headed back to my quarters on the Silvered Cloud to unload my new stuff and tidy up. I stopped suddenly on the stairs just before my floor level. I’d become accustomed to my vampire senses reaching out beyond what I could see. I could often smell and hear people well before they were close. And, at that point, in the stairwell, I could tell that there was someone in my quarters.

  Each person had a very specific scent. It changed with how they felt and what they’d eaten, but it was still them. But the person in my quarters was, well, me. They had my… signature. I paused in the corridor, my head tilted to the side, breathing slowly and concentrating on the smells.

  ‘Well, what if it is me? I could have fallen into a worm h
ole and duplicated myself, or it could be a clone, or I could be dreaming, but dreaming in scents. I suppose since a vampire relies heavily on scent that wouldn’t be that strange. Or maybe I’ve been brain-damaged or lost my sense of smell and my brain’s misfiring, making up information to cover up its loss.’

  ‘OK, that’s stupid.’

  ‘…’

  ‘Ah, it’s probably myself from the future come to talk to me. That’ll be it. Makes more sense than the sci-fi options. But why is she turning up now? What will she tell me? If I see her, will I create a paradox or fuck up quantum mechanics or something else bad?’

  I walked slowly up the corridor to my room and stopped outside the door.

  ‘She must know I’m here, as well.’

  I opened the door and walked in. The person who smelt like me was sitting on the couch looking at me. The blinds were shut, and in the gloom, she did look like me. I flicked a light switch on and found I was looking at myself. Although by this point it was expected, it was still quite a shock.

  “’Lo, Clarke,” said the woman who smelt like me. Her voice sounded different to mine, but it did sound like recordings of my voice I’d heard. Her face looked odd. I stared at her until it clicked. It was my face, except I’d only really seen it full size when it was reversed in a mirror. Then I glanced around my room. She’d tidied the place up as well.

  “Hi,” I said, finally speaking. “Who are you?”

  “You, of course. I would have thought you would have figured that out by now.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Prove it.”

  She raised her eyebrow. I’d never realised how expressive my eyebrows were, but as they were black and my skin was so pale they stood out and every emotion was clearly broadcast by my eyebrow movements. “How?”

  ‘Fair question.’

  “Tell me something that only I would know.”

  She lifted her index finger in the air, like a child about to recite a lesson; it was a somewhat annoying gesture. “You suck,” she said with a grin. “You have no idea what you’re doing. You have no idea how to get home. And you’re an idiot.”

  ‘Hmm, not helpful. Although that does sound like my inner voice.’

  “How did you get in?” I asked.

  “Unsurprisingly, I just walked in.”

  “But how?”

  ‘That door was locked when I left.’

  She sighed. “The door is keyed to my handprint.”