Mila's Shift

by Danielle Forrest

Nobody knows.

  Through a haze of pain, exhaustion, panic, and dread, the room seemed nice. Big. Especially by the standards of her bunk. As she expected, the place contained no decorations, no personal effects, just the bare bones needed for the space. A desk, chairs. A computer display, but no computer. Computers stayed in the No-Mag room.

  Paper records were difficult to manage on a MAG GRAV ship, so there weren’t filing cabinets or shelves. Probably, he only kept a few things in drawers in the desk. Cataloging the utilitarian space helped and she felt calmer, more in control. I can do this.

  “Be with you in a minute,” the captain’s voice called from one of the other rooms, ramping up her anxiety all over again. Two doors flanked the office. She focused on trying to identify from which direction his voice had come.

  The right. She concentrated, closing her eyes, and heard his feet connect with the floor, coming steadily closer. The door opened and he walked through.

  “How are you feeling?” He gestured her toward a chair.

  She sat, her muscles shaking, trying to give out on her. Now, she had to stretch her neck back to look him in the eye, which caused her to flinch in pain. “Tired, sir. I just really want to head to my bunk, sir.”

  “Of course.” He sat down on the edge of his desk, still towering over her.

  Did he design these chairs to give a height advantage or something?

  “Do you have any idea why someone would want to hurt you?”

  Mila shook her head, causing a new twinge. She knew a good reason, but no one had that information. Nobody knew she wasn’t May Trace, at least not yet.

  He frowned. “Since you’ve been on board this ship, you’ve acted suspicious. Nervous, out of character. You have a perfect service record and yet I get the distinct impression you have problems with authority. Your record lists you as a mediocre pilot and yet you exhibit skills better than any pilot I’ve ever seen. You’ve been attacked twice on my boat, but don’t seem to know why anyone would want to hurt you.”

  Mila’s stomach sank, making her feel queasy. Her mouth hung open, shocked, speechless. What do I do? What do I say?

  He leaned in closer, staring her straight in the eyes. The look he gave her made her want to run. She imagined him using pliers and a blow torch to get the truth out of her.

  Mila pressed farther into her seat until the soft cushioning compacted her spine. She whimpered in pain and his eyes softened.

  “Could you at least try to fill me in on all you can? Why have you been acting out of character?”

  Her thoughts bounced around her head like pinballs, trying to find a way out, trying to figure out how to navigate whatever traps he had in mind. But when she opened her mouth, she just spilled the truth instead.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I don’t know what’s going on. The day before we shipped out, a group of guys mugged me and a friend of mine. I thought it was random. Then I was attacked, then the note, then attacked again.”

  “What note?” She hadn’t mentioned a note before. Maybe they could use it to their advantage.

  “Huh?” May looked up, dazed.

  “What note?” He softened his voice, trying to coax it out of her.

  She shook her head. “Note. Right, sir. There was a note. On my console. Today, sir.”

  “Can I see it?”

  She dug in her pants pocket and pulled out a wad, handing it over to him. The paper had been crumpled into a ball and he tried to smooth it out against his leg. He couldn’t remove the crinkles, but he could make out what it said.

  He started to read aloud. “You are quite the foe, May Trace. I’ve never had to attempt to kill someone twice. Yet I have and you still live. Rest assured, your bodyguards won’t save you. I can be anyone. You won’t see me coming. You are already dead, May Trace. You just don’t know it yet. -Your Assassin.”

  Oh, May. He looked at her in a new light, forgetting her unusual skills at the helm. He felt sorry for her, wanted to help her, protect her. She was terrified and he knew she was no killer. Someone barged in. Thank God.

  “Captain, a body’s been found.”

  He nodded, back in his element. “Have the two men outside bring her to her bunk.”

  “Yes, captain.”

  He looked back at her. “Nothing’ll happen to you. I promise you that. I protect my crew.” He winced inside saying that, considering they’d just found the body of another of his crew members.

  She nodded, and he had to help her out of her seat and out the door. The inevitable adrenaline crash dragged at her, making her moves sluggish. He watched her walk away, feeling a fool for suspecting her. Of what?

  He turned to the man still standing beside him. “Lead the way.”

  “What have we got?” he said, a case of déjà vu hitting him as he entered the galley. A corpse lay sprawled across the floor between two prep stations.

  “The remains haven’t even cooled yet. Fresh, really fresh.”

  “So, it killed this guy with everyone crammed in the mess hall, one on top of the next?”

  “Yes, captain. I suspect as a way of getting a new identity.”

  “There wasn’t anyone in there or the galley without an ID, captain,” a security officer with a scanner in his hand said.

  Tristan nodded. “Do we still have everyone under wraps?”

  “Yes, captain,” his head of security, Avery, said. “They’re under guard in a common room down the hall.”

  “Is this guy among them?” He pointed to the corpse.

  “No, captain.” Avery circled around and knelt by the body. “Our first assumption was that he took on this guy’s identity to throw off suspicion, but my men report he’s not among those individuals.”

  Tristan chewed on his lip, thinking. “How many people did you scan?”

  The officer with the scanner studied the screen and tapped the display several times. “A hundred and twelve, captain.”

  “And how many people are in that common room?”

  “You think he got away? Right under our noses?” Avery said.

  “Maybe. How many?”

  Avery touched his radio. “I need a head count in the common room.”

  Indistinct voices drifted to Tristan. They waited as the medical officer did what he could for the body.

  The radio came back to life and Avery nodded, hanging his head. “Hundred and eleven, captain. He got away.”

  Mila dragged herself back to her bunk, keeping her eyes open only by the greatest of efforts. She wanted to just tumble right in bed, but her minders held her back. One officer waited with her while the other entered, checking to make sure it was safe. He exited and nodded.

  She locked the door behind her, but didn’t get in bed. Facing the top bunk, it might as well have been Mount Everest. She opened her wardrobe, pulled out May’s bag, and fished through it, looking for a clue. But her brain refused to kick in gear, so she zipped it back up and collapsed on Santos’s bed.

  “So, what do you want to bet?”

  “Bet?” his partner said.

  “Yeah, bet. How long do you think it’ll be before the captain is doing the dirty with Miss Needs Following?”

  “Funny, I thought the captain ordered us to follow her because he suspected her of some wrongdoing, especially considering that first body being found.” He tried to pull off a stern, professional, military mien, but his smirk came through.

  He elbowed his partner. “Get real. That man is so far in denial, it should be a river.”

  “Okay, I’ll do twenty bucks says a week.”

  “Twenty bucks? What am I supposed to get with twenty bucks? Grow some balls, man.”

  “Fine, fifty.”

  He smiled. “That’s better.” They slapped hands, but he nodded down the hall when he saw someone coming.

  “I see it.”

  They stiffened and stood tall, watching the figure form in the distance. Female. Tall. At ease.

  “Excuse me,” she said as she approached
.

  “I’m sorry. I need to see some ID.” He checked the ID. Trace’s roommate. Remembering what they were dealing with, he hesitated. The killer could be anyone, including the roommate. He looked to his partner for good measure.

  His colleague took up the ball. “I’m gonna have to frisk you, ma’am.”

  “Frisk me? Are you fucking kidding me? Let me through.” She tried to shove past, but they moved in, blocking her way.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. We have our orders.”

  “This is bullshit,” she said while crossing her arms over her chest.

  They patted her down, looking for weapons, asking her to take off her shoes. They searched them thoroughly as well. Should they call it in? But the glare she gave them stopped that train of thought and they let her through. Some things just weren’t worth it. Weathering a woman’s wrath was one of them.

  She roused to Santos storming around the small space as the last vestiges of her dream faded away. Something about abandoned buildings and cold. Mila groaned as her aches and pains woke up too. Santos zeroed in on her like a heat-seeking missile.

  “You,” she said, pointing at Mila with death in her eyes. “I can’t believe you! What the fuck are you doing in my bunk? And what the fuck’s with the psycho commandos outside the door? They tried to frisk me last night when I came back to bed. And they still didn’t wanna let me in.”

  Mila was awake now though she wished she wasn’t. Her head thudded from God only knew what, but it didn’t distract her from the tight swelling of her face or the stiffness in her abused joints.

  “Well?”

  Santos’s angry rant got the attention of the officers outside. They started pounding on the door. “Trace? Is everything all right in there?”

  “Yeah,” Mila said, her throat raw. “All’s good.”

  “All is not good.” Santos turned her back on Mila again, grabbed stuff from her wardrobe, slammed it, and pointed her finger in Mila’s face. “If I find you in my bunk again, I’m gonna break you in half.”

  Mila didn’t dignify it with an answer. Besides, what did Santos think she could do that hadn’t already been done?

  The woman seriously needed to take some anger management classes.

  Santos slammed the door, leaving her alone. Mila slid out of bed rather than sitting up and crawled to the wardrobe. She pulled out May’s bag again and looked through it in earnest.

  She’d taken out things like uniforms, spare boots, and the personal products she’d added to it when she’d taken May’s place. There wasn’t much left. A powered down tablet, May’s toiletries, a USB key, and a metal framed photograph.

  The tablet and the USB key were most promising, but she couldn’t use either in the bunks. Not sure if the tablet could be turned on safely, she stashed it in the bag and focused on the USB key. That needed a computer interface, so she put it in a zippered pocket of her uniform. She would get her answers after her shift.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tristan sat at his desk, tracking his guest as he paced his office floor.

  “We need to catch this assassin. What is his purpose here?” He stopped, looking to Tristan for answers.

  “I’ve put my entire security force on it. But we’re not equipped to capture a shifter. Nobody is.” The government had passed a law forcing shifters into camps or prisons. But any shifter worth its salt could escape and evade those hunting it. They had it confined to a ship, for God’s sake, but they still couldn’t catch it.

  Last night, they almost had it. Avery suspected it slipped away with the security personnel, separating out from the rest before they moved them from the mess hall to the common room. The skill this thing had at its disposal was both awe-inspiring and infuriating. The gall! Shifting right in front of his people.

  “There’s also the attack,” Tristan chimed in, distracting his guest from the shifter.

  “The attack! At this rate, we’ll never get to our destination.”

  “We will. I told you. I won’t fail.”

  He stared Tristan down, slamming his hands on the metal desk. “The only reason this ship isn’t space trash right now is because your pilot had a lucky day. I saw her file. I read all their files. Not a single pilot on this mission should have been able to outmaneuver those ships.”

  He’d forgotten. Watching her fly through that attack, something didn’t add up. She was just too good, way too good. How did she do it? Was it luck, as he suggested, or something more?

  He stood and focused on the man before him, staring until he squirmed. “Just do your job. I’ll do mine.” He nodded to him then motioned him to the door.

  Mila swallowed hard as she left her bunk. She hadn’t bothered to shower today. The idea of getting naked when someone wanted her dead was intolerable. Too much vulnerability. She patted her pocket, reassured by the edges of the drive.

  You can do this. You’ll be fine. He’s already failed twice. She nodded to her guards and headed off to grab a quick snack before her shift.

  She missed Luke, who she assumed still loafed about in the med bay. Turning to ask about him, she stopped at the look of pity on their faces. She swung back around and continued down the hall. Maybe she would stop by to see him after eating.

  As he went about his protection duty, he felt sorry for Trace. The military bred strong, capable personnel, regardless of their specialization. She should be confident, passing her day without care. Especially with her abilities at the wheel.

  Word spread like wildfire. People from the bridge raved over how she handled herself in a crisis, how she maneuvered around the smaller fighters. Many credited her with the minimal damage they took in the attack.

  Regardless, he hated seeing how she shuffled through her day, head hanging forward. She grabbed something and ate it while heading to medical. They hung back while she visited with her sleeping friend, Luke Hall, though he overhead the doctor saying that Hall had regained consciousness last night.

  Next, she headed to the bridge, again with that listless shuffle. He wondered if her movements were more from her injuries or a broken spirit. She sat in her seat and stared at the station beside her where Hall should have been.

  Behind her, the captain never took his eyes off her.

  Luke woke up groaning. “What happened?” Rubbing her eyes, she sat up in bed, her brain hesitant to think. Then it all rushed back to her.

  Oh, that’s the last time I try to act like a dude…

  Looking around, her mind still didn’t kick into gear. She sighed and leaned against the wall, the noisy environment settling into her consciousness. Then she sat up, her mind alarmed. “Where’s May?”

  The last she remembered, they’d been walking down the hall together. She never saw it coming. She did protect me in that fight, didn’t she? Luke closed her eyes, shaking her head in dismay. Some protector she turned out to be. “Hello!”

  She listened, waiting for a medical officer to show up. What if May was in even worse shape? What if the assassin killed her this time? Her heart tightened in her chest. Suddenly, May’s fear and paranoia made perfect sense, because Luke was terrified.

  She hadn’t been this scared since high school when she decided to live as a girl. She still didn’t like looking back on that time. People were cruel. Kids were worse. When she graduated, she decided it wasn’t worth it. What was the point in living as a woman if she couldn’t pass?

  Gripping the sheets tighter, she waited, wondering if she should just slip out of bed and get her answers the hard way.

  After her shift, Mila visited Luke again. This time he was awake and perky as ever, sitting up and giving the staff an earful.

  “Luke! Glad to see you up and about!”

  “Well, not about, but definitely up.” He laughed at himself, but his expression darkened as he took in Mila’s appearance. “You look like hell. How do you feel? I hope he didn’t hurt you too badly.”

  Mila shrugged. “I’ll be okay. I heal quick.”

  “That�
��s good.” But he didn’t look relieved. He changed tacks and his smile returned. “The doc says I’ll be out of here soon.”

  “That’s great! Glad to hear it. I’m so sorry you got injured because of me.”

  He waved it off. “Nah, not your fault. Besides, what kind of guy would I be if I let a poor, helpless woman get hurt without at least trying to come to her aid?”

  Mila arched an eyebrow at him. “He knocked you unconscious before you even saw him. I was the one wailing on him.”

  “Way to go, girl,” he said, slapping her shoulder just hard enough to make her wince.

  She healed fast, not that fast.

  “Well, I’m gonna go. Get better.”

  “You too.”

  She left, guards always a step behind. Now, she just had to lose them.

  Giving the security officers the slip wasn’t easy. One, because she had no experience at it. And two, because she wanted it to appear unintentional.

  Being alone terrified her, but she felt empowered taking some control back of her life. She got a little thrill just thinking about solving the mystery of why someone needed her best friend dead.

  She lucked out. They pitied her and people underestimate the objects of their pity. It took a dash of aimless wandering and really good timing, but she caught an elevator just as it closed.

  Mila exited onto a hall she didn’t recognize. She wandered for a while, feeling sorry for herself and her bodyguards, who she imagined in a panic, calling in backup and a search team. She kept her head down as she made her way through the halls, looking for a computer display.

  A few minutes later, she found one and plugged in the USB. She waited for the screen to come out of sleep and covertly kept an eye out for trouble. It seemed to be drawn to her lately.

  She selected the file system. Audio and text files filled the drive, all organized by date. She opened the first file, dated a few weeks back and read the screen.