When the Dust Settled

by Jeannie Meekins

  But his quarters felt cramped. There was always someone there, someone under his feet or a voice talking, a cushion moved, a coffee mug put back in the wrong place. Basketball in the cargo bay seemed to be the physical outlet for everyone as much as the bar was the social and mental outlet.

  John headed to engineering.

  “Problem, sir?” Case asked.

  John held up a hand to silence the engineer.

  Case glanced to Red, who shook his head before both engineers turned back to their work.

  John slipped past the engine core through a rarely used access panel and squeezed past a mass of vertically running cables that were only centimetres apart. He flattened to his stomach and crawled under a ventilation shaft. After a few metres, the shaft turned. It should have been pitch black, but it wasn’t.

  He continued forward as the space and light increased. An air vent to the engines filtered warmth. He straightened up, sat back against the wall and looked out into space beyond.

  The stars retreated slowly. Tiny balls that became pin pricks before reducing to nothing.

  He switched his communicator off – no one was finding him – and sighed, letting his problems wash away from him in the insignificance of what was beyond.

  He was as far from anything as he could get on the ship. A place where he’d found he could be alone – a place he hadn’t felt the need to be for a long time now.

  When he’d first been transferred to Bismarck, he’d been banned all contact with his friends and Captain Decker hadn’t given him a moment’s peace. While he didn’t regret his actions at Betelgeuse, he’d often come here and watch the stars and his life disappear, and wonder how things might have been different.

  While he’d long passed that point of self pity, it was the solitude that he sought now. That and the enormity of what was beyond – and the dreams they had sparked in him as a child.

  He didn’t know how long he stayed there – time had no measure. Case and Red were still in engineering; the chief acknowledging him with a soft nod.

  These boys worked hard; the whole crew worked hard. The ambassadors had no right to inflict their presence twenty four seven. And it stopped now.

  John banned the ambassadors from the bar between midnight and eight am. While this caused immediate outrage, he wasn’t budging. Anyone who breached the ban would find their privileges and themselves restricted to their quarters.

  “Having a drink is not a privilege,” Finook fumed.

  “I’m not stopping you having a drink,” John answered. “Just not in the bar during that time.”

  The Fillarmar’s nose twitched from side to side in irritation.

  “The dining room is still available to you.”

  “The offensive fragrances that emanate from that room –”

  “Do you want me to make it permanent?”

  The Neelund and Massic ambassadors expressed visual annoyance, not willing to voice anything until Finook’s confrontation was decided. They hadn’t caused any problems yet and John hoped they weren’t going to start now.

  “Very well,” Finook decided, realising his support was only going to be moral. “The Fillarmars will accede to your request.”

  “You go by the clock on the wall,” John pointed to the clock and held his temper. “And it’s not a request.”

  * * *

  The evening poker game was held in John’s quarters. It wasn’t worth the protest. Given the choice, John thought it was preferable to being anywhere else on the ship. If he had to have company, it might as well be enjoyable.

  Giacomo was the only one missing. Kowalski had finally gained enough sense to keep his mouth shut. Giacomo was serious about Lorraine and any teasing from the engineer usually had the rest of them giving him a hard time. He was not as naive as they all thought.

  Of course he wasn’t, they all agreed, barely managing to keep straight faces.

  “Come and talk to me when you’re older,” John told him in the most serious manner he could.

  Kowalski tossed his cards to the middle of the table and stood up. “That’s it. I’m offended and I expect an apology.” He couldn’t have been more serious if he tried. His feelings were genuinely hurt.

  “You’ll get an apology when you’ve got something to be offended about. Now sit down and play.” John didn’t want to hurt him any more than he was.

  Kowalski sat. “I’m out.”

  “If you knew as much about women as you know about engines…” John frowned slightly as he rethought his statement. “If we all knew as much about women as we do about engines, we’d be much better off.”

  “I think I have a distinct advantage over you in that department,” Dunlop boasted.

  “I don’t think he meant biological,” Gillespie put in.

  John was surprised that McReidy hadn’t had her say. She was leaning on the edge of the table resting her head on her folded arms. “McReidy.”

  “Huh?” She lifted her head.

  “Your turn.”

  “Oh…” She looked at her cards; squinting at them, opening her eyes wide and squinting again. Then she rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand and yawned. “I’m out.”

  She tossed her cards in the general direction of the table’s centre.

  “Why don’t you go home,” John advised softly.

  “I can’t, I mean… it’s only early,” she hurriedly added.

  John glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight. “Last hand. Some of us have got to get up early tomorrow.”

  *

  McReidy gave plenty of warning that she had arrived back at her quarters. She didn’t intend to walk in on any compromising situations. She needn’t have worried.

  Giacomo was asleep on the lounge, his arms around Lorraine. She was lengthways along the lounge snuggled into him, using his chest as a pillow, a book resting on her uplifted knees. It was only when she turned a page did McReidy realise that she was still awake.

  “I thought you were asleep,” McReidy whispered.

  Lorraine’s eyes looked up in acknowledgement, but she didn’t answer.

  “Where’s Kat?”

  “Night shift.”

  McReidy’s attention turned to the book. “When’s your exam?”

  “Two days.”

  “Are you worried about it?”

  “Not really. It’s just that it’s been complete chaos around here recently. Giacomo’s a big help. He’s wonderful, isn’t he?” Lorraine looked up dreamily at him.

  McReidy chose a safe answer. “At least he doesn’t snore. Come on, time to put him to bed.”

  Lorraine’s eyes sparkled.

  “That’s not what I meant. Send him home.”

  Lorraine nudged him lightly and whispered his name.

  Giacomo was reluctant to wake up. His arms tightened around her and his cheek rested on her hair. She was just as reluctant to move.

  McReidy sighed. “Giacomo, wake up. Time to go home.”

  “Do I have to?” he mumbled sleepily, the words barely penetrating.

  “Yes. Go home.” McReidy’s voice was a little louder, more insistent.

  “Can’t I stay here?” he moaned, his eyes slowly opened. “I’ll behave.”

  “No, you can’t. A gentleman does not spend the night alone with two ladies.”

  “Then… I’m not a gentleman,” he decided.

  “Yes, you are.” McReidy dragged him out from under Lorraine and bundled him towards the door. “Or I wouldn’t let you in here in the first place.”

  He placed a hand on the doorframe and turned around as McReidy pushed him out. “Good night, Lorraine,” he lingered, his voice soft.

  She had sat up, leaning her arms along the back of the lounge, her chin resting on the back of her hand. “Good night, Giacomo,” she flirted.

  He tore his eyes away from her. “Good night, grumpy,” he told McReidy.

  “Go!” She straightened one arm and pointed past him down the corridor. He took the hint. “And yo
u’re just as bad,” she turned back to Lorraine, who had slipped off the lounge and suddenly decided it was time for bed.

  McReidy wasn’t angry with them – couldn’t be angry. If anything she was envious. Giacomo was not her type. But he was very definitely Lorraine’s.

  * * *

  John found the bar was the quietest place to get any work done early in the mornings. Anyone else who was there that early was also seeking its solitude. His quarters were cramped and disturbing Dunlop or Gillespie meant he’d never get anything done. As respectful as they tried to be, voices and movement simply wrecked his concentration.

  He felt trapped in his office. The thought that he could possibly spend twenty four hours a day in there was not appealing.

  Humphries was sitting alone. His untouched coffee was cold; he was building a house of dominoes. Occasionally, it would fall and he would start again. He was there when John arrived. Since he had finished his shift, Sogra informed John.

  John played with his pen and watched Humphries for a few minutes. The dominoes were a good half metre high, but there was no enthusiasm in the construction. That wasn’t Humphries’ usual behaviour.

  “Humphries?”

  The helmsman jumped at the sound of John’s voice and looked over.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” Humphries sulked.

  “Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?”

  “Nobody can get any sleep the way Red snores.” The dominoes tumbled. He cleared a space and started again.

  John tossed the pen onto the table. He stood up, moved to Humphries’ table, pulled up a chair and sat down. Something was bothering Humphries and it was obvious he wanted to talk about it. He didn’t seem to be able to put it into words – into the right words.

  “I know we’re supposed to be on our best behaviour and set a good example for the ambassadors. It’s hard when we seem to be getting in each other’s way all the time. Then there’s those women –”

  He deliberately avoided John’s eyes, his concentration on lining up two dominoes.

  “Everywhere you go, you run into them. Pretending to be completely innocent and stirring up… They know damn well what they’re doing to us.” His voice had a cutting edge to it that overcame any embarrassment. “How’s a man supposed to handle it?”

  “The best way you can,” John sympathised. Do whatever you like as long as there are no repercussions, was what he really wanted to say. Somehow that would sound more like an invitation.

  He knew he wasn’t going to be much help to Humphries. He would have to sort himself out – they all would.

  “I’ll leave you to it.”

  Humphries nodded and John returned to his table.

  The next time John checked his watch, it was time to head to the bridge. He wiped his hands down his face and checked Humphries. The tower was a good two metres tall and he was standing on a chair to reach the top.

  John stood up and gathered all his gear, his footsteps echoing as he headed to the door.

  “Sir?” Humphries called.

  “Yes?” John hesitated at the door.

  Humphries half turned to him. “Can I ask your permission to have my dominoes left alone?”

  It was a strange request.

  “Sure, why not.” At least it kept him occupied and out of trouble. Once on the bridge, the request was turned into an order.

  Humphries smiled as he heard the order over the intercom. He stopped building for a minute, then continued in a more determined manner.

  The bridge crew were curious to know what was going on. John was not forthcoming with any answers. He didn’t have any to give, but that fact wasn’t something he felt necessary to share.

  By the end of the day, there wasn’t a crewmember who didn’t know what was going on. Overcome by curiosity, John decided to return to the bar to find out exactly what Humphries was building.

  He was unaware of exactly where it started, but suddenly saw a chain of dominoes in the corridor leading to the bar. They were placed carefully on the floor along the left hand wall. Each one standing on its end in such a position that if one toppled it would cause a chain reaction that would knock over every other one. The chain led into the bar and back to the table where Humphries had been earlier. To where he still was!

  John went straight to the bar where he collared Soghra. “Has he been in here all day?”

  “No,” Soghra answered. “He spent some of it out there.” He pointed towards the door, indicating the corridor.

  John frowned. That was not what he had had in mind.

  “You gave him permission.”

  John didn’t need to be reminded. He wondered if he should put an end to it, then decided not to. After all, it was harmless. Humphries would finish his chain, become bored, or possibly run out of dominoes, and send them all cascading with no more effort required than a gentle nudge. Then he would be responsible for picking them all up.

  The chain grew longer and longer. The order remained. It was consciously avoided. No one wanted to be responsible for knocking it over. It was as though an invisible boundary had been placed along the left hand wall of all the corridors.

  It amused the Arans. They would spend hours at a time watching Humphries, chattering away like old friends. If he thought they were teasing, he soon changed his mind.

  Bela and her companions were not the slightest bit interested. It only seemed to confirm their opinion about males.

  So what, Humphries shrugged. He was happy enough. As long as they didn’t knock it down. Their lack of interest in the first place was possibly the reason why they found it harder to avoid than anyone else. John advised Humphries to keep the dominoes away from the ambassadors’ quarters. There was no need to provoke complications.

  * * *

  McReidy began having nightmares. It started off as a dream, recurring every night. Each time was more vivid and detailed than the previous. It worried her. It was more real than a dream, as though she was actually witnessing the events portrayed: Manados had been taken over by the Andromedans. She didn’t want to go to sleep, scared of the horrors that her unconscious thought was submitting her to.

  She wanted to tell someone. But how could she? It was only a dream. Or was it? She had never had nightmares before, let alone one that recurred night after night. The details – they were worse than she thought she could ever have dreamed up.

  Who could she tell? John? Not in a million years!

  Dunlop? That might work. Maybe there was a medical reason.

  She hadn’t slept, so turning up in sick bay before work wasn’t a problem. Andrews was there. Damn! She didn’t want to talk to him.

  “Problem, Lieutenant Commander?” he asked.

  “No,” she shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  As she headed back down the corridor, another day of misery was simply not an option. She switched on her communicator.

  “Doc, where are you?”

  “Just got out of the shower.”

  Too much information, she cringed.

  “You alone?” she asked.

  “The commander’s not here and Gillespie’s still asleep.”

  “Can I see you? Just for a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  A few minutes later she was beeping the door.

  He was in full uniform, his hair damp as he smiled and indicated she come in.

  She headed straight to the lounge, dropped to it, fell against the back of it and closed her eyes.

  “You look like crap,” he appraised her.

  “Thank you.” She let out a breath and opened her eyes. “I can’t sleep. More to the point, I don’t want to sleep.”

  He sat in the chair opposite, running a critical eye over her as he waited for her to expand.

  McReidy glanced around the room. It was strange being in John’s quarters when he wasn’t there. She shivered slightly as though his presence was still there.

  “I’m having nightmares,” she began. “
And I don’t have nightmares. It started off as a dream that just kept recurring. Then it got worse and I have these headaches and… I’m waking up in a sweat and… I just don’t know.”

  “What’s the dream about?” His voice and his eyes were soft.

  “Manados. The place is overrun and everyone’s dead.”

  She closed her eyes and lifted her hands to her head, pressing her palms against her forehead.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have any answers.”

  She grumbled. “I was hoping it was something medical like I’m losing my mind.”

  His soft chuckle had her lowering her hands and cracking her eyes open.

  “Glad you find it amusing.”

  “The whole crew’s stressed,” he continued. “A week’s R and R away from the ship would do everyone the world of good, but I can’t see that happening in the near future… Look, drop by sick bay and I’ll give you some sleeping pills. A good night’s sleep might make you feel better.”

  She managed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

  Sleep was the last thing she wanted. She had to stay awake. Even closing her eyes for a few seconds to relax was enough to cause her to start dreaming.

  He checked his watch. “I’ve got to start work now. Do you want me to walk you to the lift?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve got some time to kill.”

  He hesitated, as though uncomfortable at leaving her there. She flopped her head back, staring up at the ceiling and closed her eyes.

  She heard his soft footsteps and the door, and relaxed in the silence.

  A moment later, footsteps returned. Wait, the door hadn’t opened...

  She opened her eyes and saw Gillespie standing in front of her in t-shirt, pants and socks.

  “I heard what you said to the doc.”

  She groaned.

  “No, wait. I’m having the same thing.”

  “What?” She looked up at him, took in his drawn face, tired eyes and a general sense of exhaustion.

  “Nightmares. Manados,” he explained. “Though not as bad as you.”