Separated Starlight (NightPiercer Book 2)

by Merry Ravenell

  Malcom, the Quartermaster/Supply person, sighed at Clint. “She’s a shuttle pilot. She’s going to talk a lot of shit and act like everything’s fine when it’s on fire. But if you want to place bets on if she’ll panic, I’m always interested in easy credits.”

  “She ran panicked through the market level, had a howling match with the Commander, and bit him in a fight,” Marcus said. “Undignified shit show and now she’s in our box.”

  She hadn’t been panicked. Just desperate. But to the outside observer, sure, it could have looked like panic.

  “No comment?” Marcus asked.

  Damn. She missed her sheep. All they’d done to annoy her was refuse to hold pregnancies, and that wasn’t even their fault. It was the fault of the idiot that managed those flocks before her being convinced that a six-sided genetic die would magically land on a seven.

  “I’m not sure what you want me to say,” she said, trying to keep her tone reasonable. “I’m not trying to argue with you.”

  “You could try to defend yourself.”

  “I thought he was trying to kill me. Simple as that,” she said.

  “Yeah, why? Don’t you feel stupid now? The Commander’s an asshole, but he’s no murderer,” Dietrich said.

  Did she feel stupid? Not especially. But that wasn’t the right answer. She had a nice out, though. “I can’t talk about any of it.”

  “Why not?” Malcom leaned forward.

  It was Clint who now cracked a grin. “This one’s going to be trouble. Password required.”

  “Meaning what?” Jeremy from Operations asked, speaking up for the first time.

  Clint snorted. “You Operations lot are dumb if you don’t know the answer to that. Read your Inquiry Process Procedure manuals.”

  Belle snickered. “Gotta love how Operations tells us to do our jobs, but doesn’t know how to do theirs.”

  “Enlighten us,” Marcus said.

  “Spousal privilege,” Clint said. “She can’t say a damn word.”

  “Spousal privilege is an exaggeration at best.” Marcus and Dietrich frowned.

  Lachesis raised both brows.

  Clint shook his head. “Nope. Anything said between spouses is private. If there’s wires going into a prison cell, have to turn them off. Monitoring in a bunk? Turned off. Comms? Scrubbed if they’re within proximity of each other or in the same room with nobody else present. Can’t compel them to answer questions. There’s even special core code to scrub anything we might overhear or accidentally log. Once a couple is logged as married in the system, it’s automatic, and there’s no command override. It’s in the low-level core code. We can’t rip it out or disable it. Hade wanted to make damn sure spouses couldn’t be used against each other.”

  “So much for hoping for juicy gossip.” Belle nudged Jeremy.

  “Come on, you don’t want to know if he still chases his tail?” Lil asked.

  Lachesis nearly snarfed her drink out her nose.

  “Why, Lil, you had your little eye on some Omega-sired bad-tempered Engineers?” Belle tapped her eye.

  “That wolf has secrets. I bet he still sleeps with a sock-bear,” Lil said, nodding affirmatively. “Or he sucks his thumb. Or gnaws on his paws.”

  “Things I do not care about,” Jeremy said dryly.

  “I am fairly sure the Commander has not requisitioned any additional socks above and beyond the usual,” Malcom said.

  “Is it true he tore up an iso-pod on account of you?” Lil asked Lachesis, running her fingertips around the edge of her cup.

  Tore up the iso-pod? No. Technically, he’d torn up the panel to said iso-pod. “Nope.”

  “Down in Life Support we heard one of the iso-pods in Main Medical was offline on account of him. We know everything about those pods when they’re in use. Rumor is that it involved his claws and you.”

  “Drop it, Lil,” Jeremy said. “Why are you fishing?”

  “Because nobody knows anything about this, that’s why,” Lil said. “The Commander keeps things on lock, and Doctor Forrest is even worse. You can’t even hear a fart out of Medical unless he signs off on it.”

  Time to escape before she inadvertently revealed something about Rainer that got reported back to Bennett. Operations was his locked box, after all, and three of her Aptitude crew answered to him. “I’ve got somewhere to be. Ping me if you need me.”

  “How was your first meal with your crew?” Rainer asked, a smile playing over his lips as he pushed lettuce around his plate.

  She’d spent the remainder of her day working on Telemetry data. It would be another day or two before she got the most recent batch of data and could recheck LightBearer’s position. She was no closer to solving the original problem Rainer had put her on. It may be impossible to know if Earth was ready for them or not, but that paled in comparison to the more immediate problem of LightBearer.

  She took a bite of lettuce. “They very much do not like me.”

  “You don’t seem perturbed by it.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve almost made peace with nobody on this ship likes me and never will.”

  “I like you.”

  “I rest my case.”

  Rainer smirked. “Do you like them?”

  “I don’t have an opinion yet.” They had every right to be skeptical, annoyed, and want a good sniff under her tail to see what she was really about. It wasn’t just careers at risk in the box, it was lives.

  Rainer reached across the table. She stared at it, bewildered, then realized he wanted to hold her hand. Odd. She obliged him, although a flicker of concern passed over his face.

  He rubbed her knuckles, his thumb consistently finding the fourth finger on her hand, like he expected something to be there that wasn’t. Commander Keenan, eating with two other officers she didn’t know, had glanced in their direction and made a note of it. Bennett was also there, eating by himself at his usual table by the window. When their eyes met, he didn’t look away, and although his expression didn’t change, it made her instinctively shudder.

  She tried to pull her hand away. He clutched her fingers.

  “Rainer, we shouldn’t,” she whispered. Nobody in the wardroom held hands with their spouses. Not even Tsu and Arden.

  His grip tightened, pushing down on her fourth finger, then he released her.

  Keenan had turned back to her dinnermates, but Bennett still watched.

  Expected Outcomes

  “Your work is late, Commander,” Tsu said as he shuffled tablets. “I’m not used to work simply being late from you. Explanation?”

  Rainer counted to eighteen, silently, and found himself unable to conjure an adequate answer that was not a lie, but was also not the truth.

  “Commander,” Tsu said. “I need your input and adaptations of the scenario. There are other people waiting for it, and a deadline. The entire ship stops for Aptitude. You know the massive amount of coordination required. The schedule is tight.”

  Rainer made it to twenty-three this time before Tsu said, “I’m getting impatient. Spit it out.”

  So much for hoping that Tsu would demand delivery instead of an explanation, then send him on his way. “I’m working on it, sir. I apologize for the delay.”

  Tsu nodded. “Excellent. When will I have it?”

  A sick, nauseated feeling formed in his belly, like he’d swallowed a glob of half-dried blood.

  “Commander,” Tsu’s tone took on a flinty edge, “what’s the problem?”

  The sick feeling doubled and grew into a mind-gnawing panic quite unlike anything else he’d ever experienced.

  “I’ve never seen you turn pale, Commander.”

  He wasn’t sure it had ever happened.

  Tsu’s gaze did not release him.

  He fought off the insanity crowding his brain long enough to say, “I’m trying to design a game that can—and just may—kill my wife.”

  “But you were pleased about her chance at Aptitude. You did seem genuinely happy when she passe
d Operations.”

  And now he felt like a fool. It’d hit him just how fragile and unwell Lachesis was, how overfaced she was, and what was going to happen to her in that box. He’d already called on all her courage and endurance and damn near gotten her killed twice without even trying. In a sick twist of the knife, now he had to try.

  He’d already played his she’s my responsibility card once tearing up the iso-pod. He shuffled through the remaining cards in his hand. He’d have to play his overblown sense of duty. “You and I have been in that box. We know what happens. We know the group we’re putting in that box.”

  “They’re a perfectly acceptable group. The clash of egos is normal.”

  He doubled down on the overblown sense of responsibility, since it was all he had. “Lachesis is in this situation because of me. I can’t help but feel like creating a scenario that will possibly kill her is an irony too cruel to ask her to bear.”

  “But it’s not your choice, Commander.”

  “You made her do it. She tried to refuse.”

  “I’m not letting her throw herself away.”

  “Just like you didn’t let Crèche throw me away?” Rainer countered. “Even when I asked you to intervene after my first marriage?”

  “We have duties to this ship.”

  “She doesn’t. She doesn’t owe this ship a damn thing. She’s on this ship because of me, the cost of keeping her alive comes out of my hide.”

  “You were the one that mentioned Exodus Syndrome first.”

  Rainer cursed to himself.

  Tsu tapped his fingertips on the back of the opposite hand’s knuckles. “I’ve known you your entire life, Rainer, including your first two marriages. You are acting far outside your norm. She’s your wife. I’d understand your reluctance if she was your child. We have a hierarchy of duties on this ship, and your primary duty is to the ship. This is not your first time proctoring Aptitude. You understand how important Aptitude is. You understand better than any of us that we must ensure NightPiercer is prepared for Generation Four.”

  He pounced on his opportunity. “Then we need to be focused on finding a home. There isn’t going to be a Generation Five. Bennett can shove his head into the sand all he wants, you and I know there—”

  “And that is not what we’re discussing. We have a duty to find our replacements and safeguard the future as best we can.”

  “She isn’t a replacement for anyone. She’s going to take this test, and perhaps pass it, and for what? What does she get out of it? You’re asking her to risk her life for nothing. You’re asking me to destroy her for nothing.”

  “Your duty is to this ship,” Tsu repeated.

  “You’re using her as a plant? She’s there to open up the scenario? Not because you actually think she’s going to pass? You told her you think her odds of passing are even! Those are better odds than anyone else in that box is getting.”

  Tsu pushed his finger into the desk. “You keep talking like this is a discussion. This is not a discussion. This is me informing a crewmember they will carry out my orders promptly and in the manner expected.”

  Holy Gaia, he’d thought Tsu hadn’t signed the euth order because it was insane. Had the Captain seen an opportunity to use Lachesis to broaden the test scenario?

  Aptitude’s mortality rate was almost twenty percent. From the survivors, less than ten percent passed. Entire teams had died in the box. Odds were on a team of eight, at least one of them was going to die.

  In the three Aptitudes that had happened since he’d become one of the administrators, someone had died every single time. He had watched them die. Seen how they were going to die. Silently prayed they’d realize their mistakes. But one thing had been discovered long, long before Exodus: once someone had chosen a course of action, convincing them it was doomed was nearly impossible, even in the face of overwhelming and obvious evidence.

  Aptitude took no mercy on anyone who became so mired. The test was designed to cull them with ruthless, brutal efficiency so they’d never have power over the ship.

  Tsu intruded into his spiraling thoughts. “Lachesis is your wife. Your duty to her is no greater or more special than your duty to any other crew member. Marriage exists for children. Not companionship, not love, not loyalty, not duty. Of course it’s not exactly that simple, but your spouse is your friend and trusted companion, but one for a very specific purpose.”

  Rainer resisted the urge to shake his head. His thoughts tumbled and mingled with the not-voice. “Your husband means nothing to you?”

  Tsu’s flinty veneer didn’t falter. “My husband is my lover and closest friend, but he has never taken priority over this ship. He has his life, I have mine. Our lives join at our daughter. The same reason your mother was married to your father. Your marriage also exists for that reason.”

  Crèche didn’t make love matches. Crèche didn’t want to make love matches. Too much passion or enthusiasm during Supervision was worse than not enough.

  He knew all this. But he also knew Lachesis was his mate.

  Except mates were allowed to exist even less than love.

  “I am trying very hard to not get involved in your marriage again,” Tsu said, “but Keenan has expressed some concerns about what she’s observed.”

  “Keenan is still trying to euthanize her,” Rainer snapped.

  “Keenan is trying to keep your marriage from turning into a container fire. Again,” Tsu said shortly. “And according to her, you are a pest who doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself, even when Lachesis pulls away.”

  “I have never—”

  Tsu didn’t even seem to blink. “I don’t want to ask these questions because I am damn sure I won’t like the answers. Either you’re a sex-pest, or you’re pushing a very dangerous dynamic. I’m not sure what that dynamic is, but I don’t like what I’ve observed, and I’m not the only one with concerns. If we have this conversation again, Keenan will be here. Don’t put me in the position of having to intervene in your marriage again. For her sake, since I’m sure you don’t give a damn.”

  Rainer clenched his jaw.

  Tsu nodded towards the door, then returned his cold, dispassionate gaze to Rainer. “I expect you to carry out your duties. I have been patient and indulgent. Manage your marriage, or I will manage it for you.”

  Rainer appeared, looking more frazzled and smelling more stressed than usual. He touched her hair without thinking. “Are you well?”

  She batted his hand away. “I’m fine. I was ordered to report to Medical.”

  “Why?”

  She suppressed a sigh. Something had Rainer more stressed than she’d ever seen him, but trying to find out was like trying to ask a goat what flavor of grain it wanted. He seemed gaunt and like he’d been pacing all night. When she didn’t answer, he resigned himself to waiting with his back to the nearest wall, visibly fidgeting every couple of seconds and counting under his breath, except he kept starting over.

  They were escorted to one of the recessed alcoves where people buzzed over equipment, measuring, testing, vials, this, that. Then, in one of the sanitized rooms, she was told to pop up onto a bed and wait.

  “It’s a procedure suite,” Rainer said, one eye on the large light overhead.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Notice the lack of a drain on the floor?”

  “Yes?”

  “That’s the difference between this and a surgical suite.”

  “I shouldn’t find that comforting, should I.”

  “I don’t.”

  She tried to focus on not getting too rattled. There were plenty of reasons she might be in here. She couldn’t think of any, but there were probably plenty of reasons.

  Not long after they were shown in, Doctor Forrest arrived with another doctor she’d never met.

  “Doctor Ang,” Rainer greeted the new doctor. “You being here bodes badly.”

  “Commander,” Doctor Ang said with a dry smile.

  �
��Doctor Ang is the ship’s top cardiologist,” Rainer told Lachesis. “She did my transplant.”

  “And I’ve been keeping an eye on Lake’s file,” Ang said.

  Rainer’s expression chilled. “I would hope so.”

  Forrest sighed in a long-suffering way. “Captain Tsu, Doctor Ang, and myself have been discussing your medical clearance for Aptitude, Lake.”

  Her stomach dropped. “It’s been revoked?”

  “Standard clearance has been revoked,” Forrest said. “You failed all your stress tests from yesterday.”

  She wilted. She’d known she hadn’t done well, but there was a difference between being out of shape and failing.

  “It takes a long time to recover from AGRS,” Ang assured her. “Your recovery has been complicated, rushed, and less than ideal in many ways. It will take a long time before we know exactly how much recovery you can expect. For right now, you’re still medically compromised. That’s an upgrade from fragile.”

  She glanced sideways at Rainer, then back at Forrest. “So I can’t take Aptitude?”

  “There have been discussions—”

  “I was not part of these discussions,” Rainer said.

  “Because they don’t involve you.”

  “She’s my wife,” Rainer snapped.

  Forrest, unruffled, said, “And now you’re both involved.”

  “Which is to say she doesn’t have a medical clearance any longer.” Rainer’s tone was brittle.

  Forrest looked like he wanted to sigh, but restrained himself. “The Captain and I have discussed an alternative. Doctor Ang agrees. It’ll be useful for our Medical team as well. We’re going to give Lachesis a Critical Officer Clearance.”

  “What!” Rainer exploded. “She is not your fucking training dummy!”

  “Muzzle it or get out,” Forrest said dryly.

  “What’s that?” Lachesis asked, ignoring Rainer.

  Doctor Ang pulled a slender, clear tube out of her pocket. Inside was a tiny, metallic-looking filament with a few sharp-looking prongs hanging off the edges. “Critical Officer is when there’s a situation on ship requiring a particular officer to be on duty, but they are seriously injured or ill, and can’t get a standard clearance. Given that the Command Aptitude is a Bridge scenario, everyone in the box would fit the criteria for Critical Officer, so Tsu and I have decided to put you in the box under that. It’ll add another layer of complexity and realism.”