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No Man's Space 1: Starship Encounter

Page 13

by Nate Duke


  I don’t know how long I’d spent on watch, but I still had much more to do. Paperwork, strategies, and blueprints floated around my mind, turning everything fuzzy and blurry.

  I had to remain awake.

  Hatfield entered the bridge unannounced and unworried that we were hard at work. He simply didn’t care. I sometimes wondered if he was suicidal. In either case, he was in charge of healing the men and I didn’t want him close if he was holding a scalpel.

  “Preparations.” Hatfield strolled around the bridge, peeking over everyone’s shoulders and checking their control panels and screens. He sniffed around as he walked towards me and placed a paternalist hand on my shoulder. “My Dear Mr. Wood, you should have some sleep and rest your mind. And you can also take a shower. I don’t like the toxicity levels around here.”

  Ugh. I didn’t smell, and he was starting to get tiring. No matter what he said, I did shower often enough. I have no idea of what he was referring to.

  I was turning grumpier by the minute. Perhaps he was right, and I did need some sleep.

  “Don’t you have any patients?” I asked him.

  “Actually, I do,” Hatfield said, “but none of them are about to die, and I wouldn’t care much if they were. After all, they’re from the lower caste, our very own untouchables. Mere mechanics and grunts.” Since when had he turned into such a snob? He grinned at my disgusted expression. “Does it sound offensive to your delicate ears, my friend? That’s exactly how people like Lady Elizabeth and Banner talk amongst them. I personally find it disgusting and unproductive to indulge in our economic, cultural and genetic superiority. Must be my religious upbringing: feed the poor, help the poor, care for the poor, and let the poor pay taxes to maintain your lifestyle.”

  Hatfield analyzed society from outside as if he floated around social classes instead of living amongst them. I would’ve been more patient, but this wasn’t the time for his social analyses.

  “Is that supposed to be a joke?” I asked. “Because we’re about to be attacked by a legion of ships, we don’t even know whose they are, and I’m acting captain during my first command. Banner has somehow managed to exchange messages with his father, but we haven’t managed to contact anyone since. I’m not in the mood for your social experiments or to become some kind of gentleman.”

  Hatfield tut-tutted and shook a forefinger in the air. “One does not become a gentleman; one is born a gentleman. One can learn to behave like a gentleman, but you’ll never be a gentleman if you aren’t born into a proper family. It’s a minor difference, you see? But it’s part of the definition of aristocracy.”

  I shooed him out of the bridge. “Not in the mood, Doctor. I’m really not in the mood. I’m carrying a sword on me because I’m acting captain. I wouldn’t annoy myself if I were you. Sleep deprivation can lead to all kinds of unsocial behavior.”

  “Perfect,” Hatfield said cheerfully. “That’s exactly the kind of reaction you need to repress. Gentlemen are able to act like gentlemen even when they have a red-hot nail stuck under one of their toenails. Children and lowborns let their bodies rule over them; gentlemen rule over their bodies no matter how they feel.”

  I took a deep breath. Someone was eager to taste my sword, and I was very close to obliging.

  “Why don’t you help some of my men or disappear, Doctor?” I told him. “I don’t care if I act like a gentleman if I’m going to die; I’ll worry about it later.”

  “And that’s exactly why you won’t have any chances with Lady Elizabeth.” Hatfield smiled at me and winked. “Your dear lady is too worried by her own appearance, by the image she projects, and by everything she does. If you keep acting like an uncivilized brute, she’ll scorn you like she does with Kozinski.”

  “And if I have a doctor judging everything I do, I’ll treat him like someone who’s blocking my authority as acting captain.”

  Hatfield ignored my threat once more and tapped on his forehead with a finger. “Think about it, Wood. You need to forget about captaincy every once in a while. I’m old and bored, and without any interesting patients to help. Have you ever tried to converse with the lower crew while stitching a wound? As if their limited vocabulary weren’t enough, their breaths can outright kill you.” He bowed solemnly at me as if we were in the French court. “Anyway, I won’t interrupt any longer. You’re the captain and you’re busy, and I’m just an old and bored doctor trying to find some entertainment for myself.”

  Flanagan reached the bridge and noticed Hatfield. He scanned the scene for a millisecond and immediately asked me, “Want me to get rid of him, sir? We don’t need no doctors if nobody’s hurt, do we?”

  “Keep offending the only renowned surgeon aboard the port,” Hatfield said with a forced, polite smile, “and you might find yourself in an unpleasant situation. I might be indisposed for surgery if you ever land in sick bay with a bullet wound.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Flanagan said, “but we’ll both need to survive for me to end up in sick bay. Neither of us will live unless I get rid of all distractions. Capici?”

  Hatfield left without further complaints and Flanagan followed him with his gaze in case he changed his mind and came back for more.

  “Hate being the messenger, sir,” Flanagan said once the doctor had left, “but you’re needed belowdecks. We have problems with the satellites, and Lieutenant Banner needs you to greenlight his little project.”

  Crap. We’d worked on new satellites and space trash to stop the enemy’s advance and to give us somewhere to hide while in orbit, but people needed to work by themselves. I lacked enough engineers, I needed more technology, and I needed a few more years to prepare for an attack.

  I didn’t have any of those. We were totally screwed.

  I could almost imagine my tombstone: James Wood, Useless Acting Captain. Got himself and his crew killed in his first command.

  Don’t mean to sound selfish, but I’d rather pick something else. Something less romantic that doesn’t require me to die before retirement.

  Chapter 23

  “Are you awake, Lieutenant Wood?” Lady Elizabeth’s weak voice brought me back from sleep. “Or should I call you Acting Captain Wood?” She let out a quiet giggle.

  I don’t know when or how I’d ended up sleeping, but my drool had pooled by my face on my improvised acting captain’s desk. And on my cheek. I looked positively stupid, but I hadn’t slept for days.

  I’d hoped to get Lady Elizabeth’s attention since the first moment we’d landed here, but I didn’t care anymore. Everyone aboard the port was trying to prepare for the imminent invasion, and I wanted to sleep during every free minute I had.

  “I’m having a nap,” I told her flatly. “Mind coming after we’ve fought the enemy or wait till we’re all dead?”

  She laughed again.

  Lady Elizabeth, laughing twice with something related to me? What was wrong with her? She was supposed to dislike me; she considered me inferior to her and to all her friends.

  “I won’t leave without talking with you,” she sang. She leaned her hand on a fist and leaned the elbow on the desk in front of me. Her dress showed more cleavage than I was accustomed to, especially after so long aboard the North Star.

  Yep, she was definitely after something. And I was amongst her plans, just like she’d tried on my first day there. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to work. Unless she walked around the table and assaulted me, which would make me lose control of my hormones and my body. But hey, she was a lady; ladies don’t do that, do they?

  She fluttered her eyelashes at me.

  I gulped. Okay; maybe ladies did use tricks on unsuspecting naval officers.

  “What do you need from me, Lady Elizabeth?” I looked at the papers in front of me to avoid staring straight into temptation. I’m human, you know? Try spending years aboard a flying sausage party, and tell me if you can avoid looking at a woman if she’s flirting with you.

  “I’ve noticed that some of your men a
re working on new radars to see what’s out there,” she said happily. “And I know that you’re working hard to prepare the ship against something. The men won’t speak to me even if I insist. You’re their boss, so I’d hoped that you’d tell me.”

  Yeah, right. Spreading information about all our strategic disadvantages isn’t my idea of being a good officer. I might have been new in this, but I wasn’t stupid enough.

  “I’m sorry,” I told her, “but it’s mostly confidential information. We can’t speak about our plans in case the news spread and reach the wrong ears. You wouldn’t want the enemy to know what we’re up to, would you?”

  “I’m not the enemy,” she said. “And you’d tell everything to my father if he asked you.”

  Not if I was in command. I was in command of the port’s defenses because no higher-ranked officers lived there, and I didn’t know the locals enough to know whom to trust.

  I stood up, headed for the door and opened it. I wasn’t going to stay behind closed doors with that woman. I stood by the door. Hopefully, she’d get the message and leave.

  She didn’t. Instead, she walked slowly towards me, marking every step and swaying her curves. She stopped in front of me and touched my nose with her forefinger.

  I gulped again. I should’ve run out of that door, but my legs weren’t responding. If I moved, my hands were going to go for her, and then she’d have me within her grasp and get everything she wanted from me. I don’t mind getting romantic, but she was using it as a weapon against me.

  Desperate times require desperate measures.

  “I hardly think this is appropriate considering your rank and mine,” I told her. I didn’t sound convincing. At all. This was the most unconvincing rejection in the world.

  She leaned closer so that her lips got closer to mine. I would’ve killed for those lips only days before, but this was neither the time nor the place for it.

  I cleared my throat and stepped back. My back pressed against a wall.

  She stepped closer to me and gave me a bone-chilling smile. She was no longer flirting. “If I were you, I’d work with me. You’re an insignificant engineering lieutenant, and you won’t get anywhere without any connections. I’m ruling this port in my father’s absence, and I can promise you this: I can make your life impossible just by snapping my fingers.” She snapped her fingers in the air, right under my nose.

  “Is this a curse?” I asked. “Did you expect me to turn into a ferret?”

  She shrieked in rage and repeated her warning, “Be careful. Be very careful.” She strode out of the room, clenching both fists. She wasn’t going to forgive me easily.

  What? Was she expecting me to cower in fear and to beg for her forgiveness? I wasn’t going to risk stacking more odds against me to get an insignificant rank at her spaceport. I wanted to climb the ranks with my own skills.

  I don’t know what had gone on in her head or why she’d tried to get anything from me. She was rich, she was able to get everything she wanted, and she didn’t need me for anything. And besides, I wasn’t a good catch; Banner’s family was much wealthier than mine.

  I’ll never understand women.

  Banner arrived minutes later and caught me still standing and glancing at the door in case the mad woman returned.

  “Seen a ghost, Wood?” he said.

  If I’d explained everything, he wouldn’t have believed me. I shook my head. “Just standing around and relaxing.”

  “You can take a nap,” Banner offered. “I’ll stay on watch and call you if something happens.”

  Really? Didn’t he mind letting me sleep while he remained awake? It didn’t sound like him.

  “Are you going to murder me in my sleep?” I asked. “Because I’d rather have a quick and painless death instead of agonizing.”

  “And get all your responsibility on my shoulders?” He chuckled. “Thanks, but no. You’re doing awesome, and I’m not going to give my father any satisfactions this year. He might get used to it, and then he’ll demand much more out of me.”

  I don’t know why, but I trusted him. It was probably the lack of sleep; it would’ve made me trust snakes and scorpions too.

  Chapter 24

  “We don’t want any battles!” the protesters shouted outside the main street gates. “We want food!”

  One of them held a large sign with an amalgam of symbols that tried to imitate letters but made no sense. Deep lines marked his otherwise young face and he was stick-thin, skin over bone in his arms and legs. I don’t know how old he was, but he’d grown old too soon. He must’ve lived on Earth for most of his childhood; it’s a youth-killer.

  Banner and Flanagan were grinning at the scene and waiting for me to do something. I’d complained about their initiative the last time we’d had trouble in the port, and now they weren’t going to help me out of this. Banner didn’t care if we mistreated the locals; crushing them was easier than appeasing them. Flanagan had been born in the slums and had spent most of his life serving the system. He disliked the use of violence, but he preferred to exert it than to be on the receiving side.

  The locals had started protesting when I’d started my nap. I hate it when someone wakes me up just after I’ve fallen asleep, and these men were about to go on my list. As if fighting an advanced enemy fleet hadn’t been enough, we now had problems within our own territory.

  But I was an engineer, and us engineers end up being too empathic for my own taste. I couldn’t crush the revolt, I wasn’t going to arrest the men and publicly execute them, and I wasn’t going to set fire to their homes. Governors resort to those turnkey solutions, and not using them meant that I’d get in trouble if the locals didn’t stop.

  I hated having this new responsibility. If I didn’t solve it soon enough, it was eventually going to spread to other ports.

  I was totally screwed.

  I approached the gates and tried to find one of the leaders of the revolt. They were all angry, shouting, and complaining equally. How can you notice the leaders just by looking at an angry mob? They weren’t carrying pitchforks, but they swung bats and hammers in the air. I wasn’t going anywhere close to them.

  “We want safety!” The old-looking young man raised a fist in the air. “We don’t want wars.” He was clearly their leader. His jaw was tense with resentment, and his eyes stared at me with hate. He’d lived a hard life, and he hated everyone who hadn’t gone through the same problems. Reasoning with him was going to be hard. He didn’t look eager to listen.

  I had to try anyway.

  “We’re under siege,” I said. Damn it, I sounded too quiet, and most of them didn’t hear me. I raised my voice and tried again, “A fleet’s attacking us, and we’re doing everything we can to stop them. I won’t lie to you; this won’t be easy. But we’re using technology and every single trick to protect everyone aboard the port.”

  It didn’t sound too bad, did it? I smiled to myself and waited for them to realize that we weren’t natural enemies. Our enemies flew larger and better ships.

  “No wars!” the men chanted at once. “No wars! No wars!”

  And what the hell did they want to do? Surrender immediately? It wasn’t going to end well. I knew how the Cassocks treated their prisoners, and I wasn’t going to risk ending up aboard a Cassock ship. If they were even Cassocks.

  Banner smiled at himself. Oh, I’m sure he was enjoying the situation.

  Lady Elizabeth had gone for a walk along the shopping district. She heard the complaints and walked in our direction. She stopped approaching us as soon as she noticed me. She turned her face to look at someone else and gave instructions to her escorts.

  “We aren’t animals!” the leader shouted. “Don’t treat us like stupid sheep.”

  Some others joined him. They were devoid of energy, but they’d gathered their remaining strength to fight for their rights. They’d picked the wrong enemy, though. I disliked the class system as much as anyone. I was no captain, I was no governor, and I hadn�
�t had the chance to earn promotions through my family’s contacts. In fact, whenever someone learned about my family, I became even less likely to get anywhere. I was on their side, but they were unable to see it.

  And I hadn’t slept, and I was in an awful mood. I didn’t want to negotiate; I would’ve given them half of Lady Elizabeth’s food reserves just to quieten them. But they weren’t after food; they were after causing trouble and wanted safety. None of us could guarantee safety for anyone, not even ourselves. We were at war, and we didn’t even know against whom.

  Telling them about our diplomatic situation wasn’t going to calm them down, was it?

  “We’ll tell everyone about the enemy and about the fight as soon as we have more information,” I said. I sounded unconvincing, you know? I wouldn’t have believed myself either. “Right now, we need to gather more intelligence before taking any action. And besides, we don’t want anyone to leak information. We might have informers who can tell the enemy, giving them an advantage―”

  “You’ll get us killed!” one of the protesters shouted.

  “And you won’t let us fight for our lives!” another man said.

  “If we’re going to be locked up,” the leader said, “I want to return to Earth. The air killed me, but at least nobody restricted me to a handful of streets.”

  “Yeah!” others cheered.

  Return to Earth aboard where? The North Star wasn’t ready for such a long fight. Even if she were, I wasn’t taking her anywhere. The Cassocks had boarded us without any trouble and they’d have annihilated us using their long-range weapons. We’d tricked them, but we were unlikely to repeat the same feat.

  But they were right; common men were treated like animals instead of human beings. Men like O’Keeffe, Banner, or even the governor, were too disconnected from reality to realize that ordinary men deserved to know what was going on. Navy officers didn’t need to tell their crew about strategies, but civilians weren’t used to those limitations. At least not when a fleet of enemy ships was headed towards their spaceport.

 

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