by A. Payne
“I haven’t run one of those since battle school. You make everyone do this?”
Ethan laughed. “Only the best on my ship. This is a better way to assess them than that jargon in their personnel records.”
“Fair enough. C’mon, let’s see the results.”
Victor took a long drink then activated the computer panel on the wall. The holographic replay earned their laughter and friendly jibing until the stats scrolled upward at the conclusion.
“Damn. You always were better at precise shots than me.” Ethan grimaced at the readout.
“You might have finished first but you ended up with more holes in you.” Victor slapped his friend on the back.
“Ha! And that’s why I’ve abducted you from Paradiso, mate. Strictly for the purpose of having a personal doctor at my beck and call.”
“There. Have I proven to you yet that I remain up to performance standards?”
“I’ll allow you to pass this time despite your absolute failure to beat an old man.”
“Appreciated,” Victor replied drily.
“By the way, I have plans to run through a secret quest I found on Spellbound. Our usual tank said he’d be on tonight and we could use a healer who won’t stand about with his thumbs up his arse when we need him. Interested?”
Victor considered the offer. He and Ethan both played in the same online video game and participated in the same guild. It was a hoot when their schedules matched together. “That isn’t a terrible idea. I could use the R&R.”
“You also have nothing better to do than to join your good friend in a heroic virtual reality game. We can never find a better healer than you.”
Victor grinned at Ethan. “Well, when you put it like that.”
“Hit the showers and have a brief kip on your cot before meeting up with us. You’ve earned it.”
“I would, but I have a meeting with Doctor Matthews I’m going to be late for, thanks to you.”
Ethan chuckled. “Give Lilibeth my apologies for delaying you. See you tonight in game.”
***
“This initiates the analyzation sequence,” the young doctor informed Victor in a quiet voice. He strained to hear her complicated directions regarding use of the laboratory equipment.
“So I will press this button after placing the sample into the receptacle?” he clarified. “And then I… use one of these buttons that does a thing I no longer seem to remember.”
Lieutenant Lilibeth Matthews cracked a fragile but fleeting smile. It faded again, and then she patiently led him through the ropes of examining a planetary contaminant sample. Military protocol required it prior to the crew landing in unfamiliar territory. The doctors then vaccinated the ground crew against known diseases and ordered the appropriate air filtration units in their rebreather masks, if needed.
“Sorry. Microbiology is not my strong suit,” Victor admitted to the young woman.
“I gathered as much,” Lilibeth replied. Her bright, cat-like eyes gazed at him uncertainly, shining like turquoise jewels within a serene and innocent face. “Forgive me. That was unkind.”
“No. You spoke honestly,” he assured her quickly. “There is no need to apologize, Doctor.”
According to Hart, Lilibeth, affectionately referred to as ‘Lil’ by most of medical staff, arrived two months before Victor’s assignment. In those two months, the girl’s timid nature became the least of her problems. Her chiseled, angular features held an elfin quality, bearing high cheekbones, full lips, and thin brows. She looked too young to be a marine, and so many others failed to take her seriously despite her commission.
And then there was the matter of Lilibeth’s race. Xenophobic discrimination ran rampant in the United Empire, and Victor often saw it first-hand. Jerks from all walks of privileged life looked down on anyone who didn’t fit into the cookie cutter ideals of humanity.
“Lil,” she spoke up shyly, only to quickly add, “But you don’t have to.” The uncertainty resumed, and she ducked her head again.
How did she ever make it into the military with a personality like this? Victor wondered. “Lil it is,” Victor replied, smiling. “I didn’t know if you liked the name. Hart’s a bit of a forceful character… You never know with her.” And he hadn’t wanted to disrespect her by presuming she was comfortable with the informality. “Victor will suffice for me as well.”
The rest of the refresher lesson passed without incident. Victor always made the effort to learn the basics of any equipment in the medical department. Out in the deep of space they didn’t have anyone they could call for help if things went wrong.
Lil excused herself after their lesson concluded and Victor followed the advice of his rumbling belly. Fried chicken night meant full tables.
“Hey Victor, you can have my seat.” Hart flagged him down from across the room. She picked up her empty tray and stood to make room.
“Running off on me so soon?”
The female doctor laughed and patted his shoulder. “I have an appointment to get to, but I will leave you in capable hands. Have you met Etherington yet? He’s in Engineering.”
“No. Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”
The blond naval officer grinned from his seat at the table, and then he gestured toward Hart’s vacated spot. “Have a seat with us little people, Commander.”
“Be nice, guys.” Hart waved then headed off.
Curious eyes settled on Victor. He shifted in his seat, discomfited by their scrutiny. The food on his plate provided a temporary distraction.
“Is it true you’re qualified to work on the latest series of implants?” a young Lieutenant asked. “I heard we’re getting people with tech that hasn’t been released yet for normal distribution.”
“I am,” Victor confirmed, a broad grin on his face. “I recently completed a twelve week course on performing spot maintenance while on Paradiso, too, so I’m also a certified cyberware mechanic. Quicker repairs, no need to send it in.”
“Holy shit,” Etherington breathed. “No more weeklong turnarounds to receive our parts back from the repair depot?”
“That’s right. I can manage most repairs myself here and in the field. Including the newest stuff.”
“And the staff?” another officer asked. “How do you like your fellow doctors?”
Victor chuckled. “I feel welcome. Oshiro and I have known one another for a very long time. He was my mentor over twenty years ago, and I’m only here due to his help.”
“But what about the Sargossan? I still can’t believe they let her onboard.”
“Should they not?” Victor asked, puzzled.
“Her kind don’t have any place on our vessels. Don’t you think so, Doc? Hart doesn’t say much about it, but it has to be a nightmare in medical. I mean, aren’t you one needle stick away from–” Etherington began.
“It doesn’t work that way,” Victor said quietly. “Even an infirm human with an impaired constitution will fight off any initial infection. It requires prolonged exposure, over a period of weeks.”
“We’re exposed to her every day, aren’t we?” the second officer asked. She cut her blue eyes toward Victor and studied him curiously. A tag upon her uniform identified her as Lieutenant Porter.
The longer Victor remained in their company, the more certain he became of one critical fact: he disliked Etherington and his lackeys, and he found their racially oriented questions completely inappropriate. It was the same racism he’d encountered on the Glenn all over again, with another victim at its center. His grip of the eating utensil tightened until his knuckles whitened.
“Is that so?” Victor asked calmly.
“Aye, sir. They’ll be regretting overturning the law as soon as there’s an outbreak on one of our ships. Let’s hope to God it isn’t the Jemison and her plague doesn’t spread to the rest of us,” Etherington said, shaking his head.
“She has no business among us. Especially in medical where things need to remain sterile,” Porter adde
d.
“What about you, Doc? What’s it like working with one of them?” Etherington inquired.
Them. They made it sound as if Lilibeth were something less than human. When settlers first colonized Sargossa, no one detected the microscopic organism that lived deep in the soil and rock. After twenty years, the first symptoms turned up. Sensitivity to sunlight and anemia produced a startling similarity to vampires. And now, centuries later, the people had evolved into a symbiotic relationship with the organisms.
The chicken seemed to become drier with every bite, tougher, until it required too much effort to swallow. Without looking at them, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and discarded the wadded paper on his plate, his appetite lost.
“Well?” Etherington persisted. “She has no bloody place among the rest of us. It’s a joke that she even received a commission. Sargossans are practically alien; she ought to be with the rest of the gormless peons in the enlisted mess.”
Screw him. Sounds like daddy bought his commission. “She’s a human,” Victor spit out, losing what remained of his patience. “She’s as much of a human being as the rest of us and deserves respect. She’s a fine officer.”
“Sir–”
“Finer than you,” Victor interrupted. “Doctor Matthews doesn’t gossip about her peers and cares for each of you equally. She causes no harm to anyone. She does her job and minds her own business, and in my opinion, that makes her an exceptionally fine human as well. Better than the ignorant berks sharing this table with their purchased rank.”
Victor pushed back from the table and strode away without looking back. He deliberately pulled up a seat beside Lilibeth and smiled. “Is the chili any good?” A glance over one shoulder confirmed what Victor already suspected about the rest of the guys, and he caught them sneaking peeks at him while speaking in low voices.
They can all sod off for all I care.
“I like it.” She stirred her spoon through the mixture of finely ground meat and beans. “It isn’t like the food we eat at home.”
“Yeah? What’s the food like on Sargossa?” he asked.
“Bland,” Lil replied. “We don’t cook our food so thoroughly.”
“Right. Diminishes the nutritional value?” Victor asked.
Lilibeth nodded and looked down at her steaming bowl of greasy dinner. “I like it this way. They offered to serve food to me in our traditional way, but the other officers find it disconcerting.”
Racist pricks, Victor thought. He controlled his reaction and maintained a neutral expression. “Won’t that make you sick?”
“Doctor Hart administers a daily injection with the nutrients I need. I…” Lil’s voice trailed and her shy eyes lowered to the table. Her stiff spine and tense shoulders revealed what her voice did not. “I will not lose control. No one is in any danger, Commander.”
“No, I didn’t think that at all. I inquired because I am concerned for your health, Lil. The Empire wouldn’t allow you aboard the Jemison if you posed a risk to any of us.”
The strain vanished and relief flooded her expression. “Thank you.”
It broke Victor’s heart that anyone could believe sweet Lil would become a ravenous, bloodthirsty monster while aboard the ship. Without another glance to the jerks at the next table, he rose from his seat and offered the younger doctor a hand. “You’re only pushing your chili around with your spoon, so you have to be done by now, right?”
A couple officers gaped at him, as if horrified to see the commander touching the ‘alien’ Sargossan with unprotected physical contact. He ignored them and maintained his sunny smile.
Lil took his hand and rose, laying her dark fingers against his larger palm. The delicate bone structure seemed as fragile as twigs. He offered his arm and politely escorted her from the mess without any destination in mind. The young woman knew the way and directed him through the twisting corridors until they returned to the officers’ berthing.
“I want to apologize for the shit you overheard,” Victor began.
“Many people have behaved kindly toward me. Etherington and his friends are jerks. They’ll always be jerks, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. If I hold on to bad feelings, it will only poison my soul. Not theirs,” she explained.
“You’re a wise girl.”
“And you are a kind man, Victor.” They paused outside a stateroom, where she gently extracted herself and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Remember my words for yourself.”
Before he could ask what she meant, Lil smiled and crossed the threshold.
“That was a pretty nice thing you did for her,” a voice spoke up from behind Victor.
A younger man stood behind him, smiling boyishly despite the impressive rank indicated by the insignia pinned to his collar.
“I didn’t really do anything at all,” Victor said.
“You shut up the idiots bothering Lieutenant Lil. That’s good enough for me. I was working on the communication system in the Wardroom and saw the entire thing. Ah, I’m forgetting myself, aren’t I? I’m Chief Trevor Lockhart. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. The commodore says you’re a brilliant doctor.” He spoke too quickly, much like a child given an excess of candy without any way to burn the energy.
Grinning to show no offense was taken, Victor graciously shook Trevor’s hand. “Thanks. I think.”
“You’re also much nicer than the rumors indicated.”
Victor raised a brow. “Mean isn’t usually on the list of false attributes assigned to me. They must be coming up with new stories to tell.” Will I ever escape them?
“You should have heard the tales going around about my brother and me. People were convinced before we ever stepped foot aboard our first command that we heard every thought on the ship and sold secrets to other people for quid.”
“So I’d be correct to assume you’re a psychic then?” The smile faded from Victor’s face, his lips twitched, and then he forced the cheer to return in an effort to avoid exuding judgment. Trevor had no control over his natural born talent, but an assortment of unpleasant memories and hardships littered Victor’s thoughts.
“Apt assumption, sir. But, uh, don’t worry. I’d never violate someone’s privacy like that, and I can’t read minds without physical contact. Not anymore,” Trevor assured him. The younger man’s smile diminished.
There’s a story here, Victor thought.
“Anyway, Commodore Bishop wanted me to check on your netlink and guarantee you’d have a stable connection. He says you’re always lagging out when he needs to be revived in game.”
Victor groaned. “Did he really?”
“Okay, he didn’t admit it openly, but I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” The return of Trevor’s big, jovial smile invited Victor to do the same in return.
The two men laughed and made their way to Victor’s assigned stateroom. Trevor immediately moved to the interface panels and crouched beside them to begin his work. About seven months ago, when Victor first took up with the game, he bought the most expensive system on the market that also fell within his price range. At the time, self-bought gifts were a mildly satisfying balm for what ailed him. The online world distracted him, and it let him reconnect with his best friend.
“How long is it going to take?” Victor asked curiously. He retrieved his Neuro Strip and set it on the table.
Trevor glanced up from his work and let out a low whistle. “Couple minutes, tops. Nice gear, Doctor. Now you’ll have a connection to match.”
Less than five minutes later, Trevor had made the necessary alterations in the information currents. The chief closed up the panel and slipped his tools away. “There. All finished. You ought not to die the next time we’re raiding the Hell level.”
Victor’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “You were there?”
“Didn’t you gather that much from my comment about reviving Bishop?” Trevor exaggerated a sigh. “I’ll leave you to it now. You’re on the commodore’s private network, so you won’
t be dragged down into the laggy abyss again.”
“Thanks, Chief, I appreciate it.”
Trevor hesitated at the door with his fingers against the cool metal. “Commander?”
“Yeah?” he answered absently while unpacking his virtual gear. Most of the boxed components required installation and he looked forward to a half hour of blissful busywork to clear his mind.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Tension straightened Victor’s spine and locked his shoulders. His fingers clenched around the edge of the case. Better that than the delicate equipment within. “Excuse me?”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Trevor repeated kindly, without making eye contact. “I didn’t see what’s bothering you, and I didn’t look into your head. It doesn’t work that way… but there’s an aura of guilt surrounding you so deeply that your soul is drowning in it, and I can see that. My gut tells me that you’re not responsible for whatever it is you’re mourning. I needed to let you know.”
Words died in his throat, choked back by the upwelling storm of emotions. Victor didn’t think his dry mouth could form them anyways, so he nodded instead. A familiar burn stung behind his eyes.
“Things will get better. I know you’ve heard that before. Trust me, I’ve heard it a hundred times myself.”
“I don’t think…” Victor swallowed and dragged in a breath.
The phantasmal impression of a warm hand settled against Victor’s shoulder. Light and encouraging, and somehow pleasantly supportive. “Give it all of the time you need. I think I know why Bishop insisted for me to install your netlink personally. And I’m glad that he did. You and I have something in common, sir… and I’m around. Any time you need an ear.”
Trevor excused himself quietly from the room, taking the familiar, friendly presence with him. Victor remained seated at the edge of his bed for a while longer, too captivated by his own deep thoughts to do anything else.
When he arrived late to the virtual reality game, Ethan didn’t complain or rib him as usual.
No one did.
Chapter 3