Archaea

by Dain White

  “Gene, are we ready?”

  “Good-to-go, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Gene. Janis, you have the conn. Please take us out of here at all possible speed, dear.”

  “Aye sir, I have the conn. Accelerating now.”

  She said it so calmly, but I was not at all prepared for what happened next. The bottom dropped out of my soul, as the reac drive thundered into full life, maximum burn.

  “Sir, I have incoming torpedoes from all seven bogeys, range 3800 kilometers and closing.”

  “Thank you Yak. Please keep me posted” I heard myself say through lips that felt like they were being torn off my face. I think I sounded calm, but I couldn't be sure, right about then Janis warmed up the pseudomass generator and the pedal went through the floor.

  I felt nothing else but like I was falling, and falling fast. Down, down down. Faster and faster, we hurtled into the dark like bad news. As hard as we were burning, our descent towards this pit ahead of us was faster, pulling us forward tightly against the crash bars, until I felt like I was about to slide though them into steaming square chunks.

  “Stand by for course correction.” Janis said, as calm as if she was remarking on how nice the weather was in Vega 6 this time of year. I felt my stomach convulse as down became sideways, and I struggled valiantly to hold my coffee.

  “Yak, report. Are the torps closing?” I hissed through teeth clenched tight.

  “No sir... Their range is increasing rapidly sir.”

  “Impressive... son... damn... this... OOF” I said involuntarily, not my most shining moment of command, as down became down, and I felt like I was about to fall into my own shoes.

  “Gene, how are we... “ I paused as against all odds, coffee spewed out of my nose as we suddenly fell straight up. What a waste of good coffee, I heard an alarmingly distant inner voice say.

  “Uuuunnngghhhhh” I told everyone, eloquently enough for the moment.

  “Sir...green...all good....” Gene gasped; the background in his station sounding like the inside of a jackhammer shooting bees armed with machine guns all firing at once.

  My head was starting to unravel – I was starting to think incredibly weird thoughts, even for me. I was remembering all sorts of strange things, the smell of freshly mown grass, the shiny nose of my third-grade teacher – I wondered why triangle-shaped foods tasted so good.

  Janis said something else, but the blood in my ears turned it into a jazzy little number played on French horn and trombone, I think it was a countdown.

  At this point, my eyes were starting to fade away, everything around me looked gray, and I could only focus on what was directly in front of me. The view from the forward port was mostly dark, but the view on my screens was alarmingly full of all kinds of terrifying information that I had to admit I really didn't understand.

  Somewhere I heard Jane screaming, or crying – maybe she was cheering, I couldn't tell. I think I joined in, but everything was going red. Soft, cloud-like dreams reached up into my head and started to pull me back down inside myself, taking me away, and I wanted to go, I welcomed it with open arms.

  It was about that moment, when a sudden shove in my back hit us so hard stars squirted out of my eyes and started crawling like little glowing spiders in the air around me. The forward port was full of fire, streaming waves of light, energy, vaporizing and ionizing as it blasted past us at nearly the speed of light – it didn't look all that fast.

  “Sir, we are at minimum safe distance, stand by for zero-g and evolution to slipspace” I heard Janis say, but I couldn't answer. I tried, desperately, but I couldn't even make one single witty comment.

  Chapter 12

  “Damage Report”, I heard someone say, and realized it was me.

  A low hum in the background my only answer. I looked around, and my head felt like it was mounted on a rusty gimbal, my neck muscles were beyond sore, they were aflame.

  “Janis, can you hear me?”

  “Yes Captain. I can hear you.”

  “Are we safe, dear?” I reach for my coffee, but the cup is gone.

  “Yes Captain. We are currently slipspacing on the final leg of our course. Estimated arrival at Vega system is 23 hours, sir.”

  I moved my head around slowly, and saw my coffee cup lodged along the leeward edge of the forward port. Finally, I had motivation to try moving.

  I unlocked the crash bars and winced as I moved. My shoulders, neck, arms, legs... damn near every bit of me was sore, and it felt like I might have a few sprung ribs.

  “Janis, did we reach minimum safe distance? I don't seem to be glowing...” I checked both hands, just to make sure.

  “Yes sir, we did, though I am afraid it was extremely close. While we didn't have the margin of safety I would have preferred, exposure to radioactive particles were well within nominal levels, sir.”

  “And the destroyer?” I ask, carefully extricating myself from a captain-shaped dent deep in the cushions of my couch.

  “Sir, my best estimation of the blast yield was 43 megatons-equivalent. Nothing in that sector of space would have remained.”

  I winced, as I kicked forward through the bridge. I found myself facing one of the worst moral dilemmas of my entire career. Check on Yak, or collect my coffee cup.

  Luckily for Yak, my sense of duty, my integrity, my overwhelming feelings of responsibility won through, and I decided to recover my coffee cup first, as I was a more effective and considerate captain, if I was an alert captain. I simply couldn't give my crew anything less than my very best.

  “Are you going to just sleep all day, Yak?” I asked as I floated past his station, but didn't get an answer. He twitched a bit, but that was all I could get out of him. I decided from the looks of him, he needed a little extra beauty sleep, and I really didn't need him on station at the moment.

  “Gene? Shorty? Pauli?” I keyed into the 1MC... but no one wanted to talk to me, I guess. Not that I really blame them. My head felt like it had been used to tan leather, and I had aches and pains layered ten-deep all over my body. I took a few moments to just float, staring at nothing for a while.

  “Captain, are you okay?” Shorty said, floating into the bridge. The white of her eyes had gone red, and some dried blood had crusted around her nostrils.

  “I've been better, Shorty, but I'm not too bad, considering. We're still here, which is better than the alternative... I guess.” I winced, as a fresh pain rippled down my port-side ribs. “Grab that med-pack, and let's see if we can wake up sleeping beauty.”

  We popped a smelling salt under Yak's nose and his eyes snapped open and looked around, startled that there was something more to life than a dreamy cloud.

  “Yak, your eyes!” Shorty exclaimed, reaching out to touch him on the cheek. He looked pretty bad, the whites of his eyes looked like they were full of blood.

  “Hi Jane...Captain...” He winced as he tried to turn his head over to look at me.

  “Take it easy son; you've been knocked around pretty good.”

  “I feel like I've gone 10 rounds, sir...” He looked over at Jane and took a moment to focus. “Jane, you're bleeding!”

  “It was just a nose bleed, Yak, nothing to worry about.” she looked down at the dried blood that had spattered across the front of her shirt. “I do look a bit gruesome though, now that you mention it.”

  Right then Gene floated in, a fresh coffee in one hand, and a med-pack in the other. He had a purple goose egg lump on the side of his forehead, but he wasn't letting that stop him from being grouchy.

  “How long have I been out?” He asked, fixing me with a look as if this was all somehow my fault.

  “Not very long, Gene, just a few minutes... We're currently slipping down the last leg to Vega, and for once, we all have nothing urgent, no fires... at least I hope not...” I knocked on wood, just to make sure I didn't offend the ancient druid spirits of portent.

  “Janis, please bring rings up to point-seven gee – I am going to check on Pauli
and our patient, and then dear friends... I think I might just take a little nap, I didn't have a nice luxurious rest like you folks.”

  Gene snorted, and they all rolled their eyes enough to knock the Archaea off course.

  *****

  “Pauli...” a voice called softly through my dream.

  I came to with the craggy features of Captain Smith filling my eyes and the smell of something horribly vile filling my sinuses and lungs.

  I had just been floating above a wooded hillside, looking down at the wind blowing slowly through the grass, the leaves on the trees shimmering and flashing as they caught the clear sunlight, and it felt like I had always been there, that what I woke up to felt like the dream... a horrible dream full of Captain Smith's face, eyebrows and all. Unfortunately I couldn't wake up to something different, but as least I tried.

  “Are you awake, son?” he asked, with a voice heavy with concern.

  “I think I am... though I am not sure I want to be”, I said, feeling about a million aches and pains throughout my entire body.

  “I know how you feel, Pauli. If you feel half as bad I do, we're both due for some rest and relaxation, and that's what I am hoping we'll do. We have about a dozen hours left on this leg, and nothing between here and there that can bother, or worry us. I would like for you to take it easy, and that's an order, son.”

  I laughed, despite the ripple of pain it caused down my side – taking it easy is something we just don't seem to do, ever.

  I winced as I tried to roll up out of bed, and the floor seemed to be made of some sort of gelatinous substance, impossible to stand on.

  “Steady there”, the captain said, holding out an arm for support. “Your equilibrium will be pretty wonky for a bit after what we just went through. I haven't felt that drop-sick since my time in the academy centrifuge, and actually, not even then to be honest.”

  “Captain, I can't even explain how horrible that was...” I started, trying to remember what it was like. “I felt like I was in some sort of crazy out of control washing machine that was on spin cycle while it fell down stairs.”

  “That's a pretty good analogy, son. I might have to borrow that one... In simplest terms, Janis had us mass-loaded to the physiological limit of what we can take, and maybe a bit more. The worst of it, was the positive and negative g-loading, and the sideways, the upside down, the back and forth, inside, out--”

  “Captain... stop... please...” I was going to be sick.

  “Well, of course a superlative pilot like myself, it was hardly enough to make coffee shoot out of my nose.” he gave me a wink, as if that dipped eyebrow was enough to make all the pain go away. It actually was a little helpful, though I wouldn't admit it to my own mother.

  “Let's see how our patient is...” he said, looking over the vital readout with his most inquisitive eyebrows. Unfortunately those eyebrows only resulted in his eyes squinting, as if it would make more sense if it were more blurry.

  “Janis, how is our patient doing? His vitals look.... vital.” He looked back at me with a smile, apparently waiting for an off-stage rim-shot. He was on a roll; I think I'll have to try the veal. I wonder if he'll be here all week?

  “Captain, he appears to be stable. His breathing is regular and his blood oxygen levels are within normal levels. He does not appear to have a secondary pulmonary infection at this time. I induced a comatose state in the patient during recent maneuvers because it seemed prudent.”

  “Janis, how come I didn't get a medical coma induced?” the captain said, as serious as a heart attack.

  “Captain, it didn't seem prudent as you were effective at the time.”

  “Did you hear that Pauli? Effective...that is the nicest thing anyone has said to me today!” he said, with a feral grin. I groaned...I was finding out that a solid barrage of his jokes hurt more than my ribs.

  “Well, enough about me, for the moment...Can you please wake our patient so I can tell him how effective I am?”

  “Captain, I have already administered a stimulant, he should be awake in moments.”

  “Thank you Janis, perfect – can you please let everyone on the bridge know?”

  “I have already informed Jane, Yak, and Gene, Captain.”

  “Janis, you are the greatest.”

  “Captain, I have explicit instructions to regard you as the greatest, should I assume you were making an attempt at humor, sir? Please advise, I can adjust decision tree logic as needed.”

  The captain looked at me with serious, deadly eyebrows. “Is she serious, Pauli?”

  “Captain, she is not. I believe, she is trying her hand at a joke, sir.” I said, grinning.

  “Janis, was that a joke?”

  “Sir, yes sir. It was an attempt at levity, at humor. I was hoping to encourage a sense of pleasure and entertainment. Was I funny, sir?” she said, with the straightest face of all.

  *****

  The patient was sitting up in bed when Gene, Yak and I arrived from the bridge. He looked considerably better than when I first saw him, chained to the floor of the bilge compartment, but he still looked completely lost. I smiled my sweetest smile, and tried to make him feel welcome.

  “Who are you people, and where am I?” he asked, in a quavering, hesitant voice.

  “This is Gene Mitchell, our chief engineer and big man on campus. If it's broken, he didn't do it, but is the one that can fix it”, the captain said with one of his standard-issue toothy grins.

  “The vertically challenged cutie with the apple-red cheeks is, 'Shorty' Short, our weapons specialist--”

  “Pleasure to meet you, my name is Jane, Jane Short. Please do not call me Shorty, or I might have to kill you”, I smiled murderously at the captain.

  “Yes, we try our best not to pay too much attention to Shorty, she's the biggest little person you will ever meet.” he added, with a sideways glance at me to see if I was going to leap for his throat. I decided I might as well let him live a little longer, at least until he is done introducing us.

  “The intelligent man in black here is Steve Pauline, our technologist and professional geek – he's the brains of the outfit, and the giant mountain of muscle here is Shaun Onebull, he does a little bit of everything, he does the heavy lifting around here.”

  “Call me Yak, sir”

  “And I am Captain Dak Smith, owner and master of the Archaea, the ship you are currently on at the moment.”

  “Are you the same Captain Smith that recently retired from the Terran Service?” he asked, eyes opening wide.

  “Quite possibly... it depends on what you have heard!”

  “Sir, it's an honor to meet you – you are a legend in the Academy right now. Darn near every instructor has some story they use about you as an example of why the coursework isn't too hard for a real captain. We all came through dreading the inevitable story about how a real captain handled this problem, or that simulation--”

  “Oh, well in that case, yep – that's me! Are you in the service?”

  “Yes sir, my name is Thom Sheppard, Ensign First Class, recently of the Mantis, a destroyer on Vega patrol.”

  “The Mantis? Was that the destroyer we found you on, son?” the captain asked.

  “Yes, I've been locked in that hold for longer than I can remember; it's been weeks at least, but maybe months. I couldn't really keep track of time down there.”

  “What happened to the rest of the crew, son? How did pirates get their hands on your ship?”

  “I wish I had some other story to tell, sir, but the truth of the matter is that they were all service, until the mutiny.”

  “Mutiny?” We all looked at each other.

  “Now don't you mob start getting any ideas”, the captain said, fixing us with his invincible eyebrows and most commanding stare. “Tell me everything, mister”, he said, pulling up a chair.

  The story Thom told was horrible, but not unlike any other similar stories of mutiny.

  “The captain of the Mantis was a severe
leader, an obsessive-compulsive perfectionist who demanded more from his crew than they were ever realistically able to give, setting impossible deadlines and drill scores, and meting out unrealistic punishments for the most trivial of offenses.”

  “His drive towards perfection eventually ground down the resolve of his crew, and they started following the direction of the executive officer, a man named Red Martigan. Over time, Red became a sort of father figure, one who would stand up for the transgressions of the crew, sneak them extra rations, release them from confinement, or otherwise lighten their punishments. Eventually, his interventions on behalf of the crew undermined the authority of the captain and endeared himself to the crew members, until the captain was in command by name only, not in actual fact.”

  “As time went on, and the patrol ranged farther and farther from contact with other service vessels and support craft, Red and a handful of the other officers formed a cult of personality among the lower ranks, and the crew who had been most impacted by disciplinary actions or rationing, men of weak character who felt they owed it all to Red and his inner cadre of officers.”

  Thom took a moment to collect his thoughts, and I offered him some water.

  “At first, a handful of other junior officers and I tried to work with the new cabal, the new order aboard the ship, but it became increasingly difficult to direct the efforts of crew members when every order was questioned, every command was ignored, or deferred to Red or one of his cronies. The captain became completely ineffective at command, and eventually withdrew from daily interactions with the crew and officers, spending entire days or weeks in his quarters. Into that complete power vacuum, Red stepped in and assumed command, ostensibly on behalf of the captain. With the captain indisposed, it seemed like the right thing for Red to do, as if he was too sick, or injured to continue to command effectively – which wasn't really all that far off the mark.”

  “A million-tonner like the Mantis was a large enough vessel that at first the occasional absence of a watch-stander was hard to notice, but when key personnel started disappearing, and they weren't in sick bay, they weren't in their quarters, they weren't anywhere to be found – well, it just wasn't that large of a ship. The lower-ranked officers started to talk, and suspicions of foul play started to point towards Red. No one dared to challenge Red directly, but a few of us went to the captain with our concerns, only to be brusquely ignored or ridiculed. The captain was at this point in time completely out of touch with the situation, the day-to-day routine aboard his ship.”