by Z. M. Wilmot
***
When I woke next, I was in a pitch black room. I sat up slowly, and almost fainted as the blood rushed out of my head. I had been draped over some kind of box (a crate perhaps?), and my head had been hanging over the edge.
I let my body recover, then slowly stood and walked until I ran into some kind of obstacle. I moved my arms around, and felt a handle of some kind. I pushed it down, then pushed outwards, thinking it was a door handle. Nothing happened. I pushed harder. Nothing happened. I began to wonder who put a fake door handle into a random wall when I leaned back, still pushing down on the handle, and the door swung open towards me. Impossibly bright light poured in from the open door, and I collapsed to the ground, shielding my eyes with my arm and closing them tightly. After several minutes, I slowly opened my eyes and peered around the open door. I heard footsteps approaching, and ducked behind it again. There were two pairs of them, softly echoing nearby. I heard Peter Robos’ voice. Apparently the landing craft hadn’t left yet. “Something opened the door over here… ah, yes it’s open.” I heard the sounds of pistols being drawn, and then the footsteps stopped. I held my breath.
Suddenly, the door swung open forcefully, shoving me violently against the wall. I grunted in pain and looked at the now open doorway. I saw Peter and the long-haired man standing over me, each with a standard armada issue beam pistol pointed at my face.
“Jak?” Peter’s voice was incredulous. “First stowing away on the Ambassador, and now the Diplomat? Aiming to become a professional, are you?” He hoisted me to my feet as thoughts began to race madly around my head. The Diplomat was the name of the landing craft Korzos was sending to the planet. Why had whoever knocked me out put me here?
“I – didn’t mean to. Someone knocked me out and when I woke up, I was here…” It sounded stupid even to me.
Robos, however, seemed to think it less so. He grabbed my chin with his hand and lifted my eyes to meet his. “Say that again to my eyes.”
I swallowed and repeated myself. He stared at me for a moment, then let my head go. “I think he’s telling the truth, Daniel.” Not Fetherkap Daniel. A different one.
“If you say so, Peter.” Daniel looked at me and smiled grimly. “However, that doesn’t matter much. Mather’s in charge; his word is final. We have to bring the boy to him.”
Peter sighed. “I suppose.” He leaned forward, grabbed my arm, and began to tow me away, his shoulder-length blonde hair swaying gently as he walked from side to side. Daniel walked behind me, his face devoid of emotion.
The Diplomat was much smaller than the Ambassador. It had to be, as one fit inside the other. It had been stored in a hangar at the front of the larger vessel. We reached the front of the ship and the bridge in about twenty seconds. “Sir Mather, sir?” Peter spoke respectfully.
Mather stood at the front of the room, peering over monitors showing the surrounding space. The man I didn’t recognize was looking over security cameras (why they were included on this ship I had no idea, but they certainly had come in handy), and Angela was staring at a wall. When we walked in, she turned, saw me, and waved, not showing any sign of surprise.
Mather turned at the sounds of Robos’ voice, and raised an eyebrow at the sight of me. “What is he doing here?”
Robos gave me a sidelong look, then faced the first mate. “Jak stowed aboard, sir. It was him that opened the door.” I barely managed to stop myself from looking at him in startlement. Why was he changing my story? To discredit me?
Mather stepped closer. He wasn’t that much taller than me, but for some reason his eyes made him appear much larger. He sighed. “We can’t have him aboard. We’ll just have to turn around and bring him back to the Ambassador.” He addressed me. “And you… you should be ashamed of yourself. We would have been perfectly within our rights to space you when Methuselah first found you, but we didn’t. I expect you to be more grateful in the future – if Korzos lets you live.”
I hung my head. I wanted to shout out that I hadn’t stowed away, but I was sure that no one would believe me, and that Peter would be angry. Daniel cleared his throat.
“Actually, Mather, sir, there is the pod. If we send a message to Vincent, we can align Jak’s trajectory with that of the ship and have him pick up the pod. Then we won’t lose time.”
Mather cocked his head. “Yes… that could work. Very well. See to the pod, you two. I’ll talk to Vincent.” He nodded and turned back to his screens. Peter and Daniel escorted me out. We walked in silence until we reached the aft of the ship again. Then Peter turned to me.
“Sorry about that, Jak, but I couldn’t tell Mather the truth. We don’t need him more wound up than he already is. We know that there’s somebody on the ship with a malicious intent. Likely the one who murdered the scientists and knocked you out.”
I blinked. “How many people know about the scientists?”
Peter smiled unpleasantly. “The better question would be how do we know that you know?” I stayed silent, and he did not answer.
“Anyway, they will likely try to prevent you from getting back to the ship. I think they’re planning something, and wanted us out of the way for a while. I understand getting rid of Mather, but not so much us. You can trust Vincent – he’s the chief of security. You’ve met him?” I nodded. “Good. He’ll pick you up. When you get back, have him take you straight back to Ezekiel’s room.” I nodded in understanding.
“And watch out for the captain,” Daniel added, leaning calmly against the wall. “He could very well be behind this.” The thought had occurred to me.
I turned to face him as Peter began to ready the pod. “But what motive could he possibly have?”
“The simplest one of all: nationalism. He’s Namibian. The Ambassador is Bajan, the expedition is funded primarily by Baja, and was launched from Raheera, the capital of Baja. He hates your country, and would like nothing better than to see it humiliated before the world when its prized expedition never returns. You should have seen what it took to convince the Bajan government to let Korzos captain the ship.” He smiled. I wondered how he knew all this. “He would love to see this mission fail. He does not care about his own pride. He despises your country with a depth of hatred that I don’t think you see. Why do you think the Ambassador even has security? Nationalistic tensions run high on board… if you care to pay attention.” Peter yelled something from the pod. “Come on, I think Peter’s done.”
We walked over to the pod. It was a metallic chrome egg-shaped device with small thrusters in the back. It was set in a dark grey trench in the ground than ran into an airlock in the wall. The top half of the pod opened, revealing a plastic chair and a crude set of controls, much like Ancient Earth motorcars. “Sit down,” Peter told me. I did as I was bid. He explained to me how to work the controls. When he was satisfied that I had learned all I could without real training, he bid me farewell, touching his middle and pointer fingers to his forehead. “Good luck.” I thanked him as he closed the top.
The next thing I knew, I was pressed back into the seat, and felt like my eyes were going to burrow through my skull into my brain. I closed them, then heard Vincent’s voice over some intercom. I admit it, I jumped. Peter hadn’t told me about that particular feature.
“Hey, Jak! Nice work there.” I heard a smile in his words, and shook my head at him. “Don’t shake your head at me, boy. I can see you, you know. But you can’t see me!” He laughed. “Can you see the ship?”
I looked at the tiny screen that showed what was outside the pod. I could just barely make out the massive bulk of the Ambassador. “Yup,” I replied.
“Great. Head towards it.” I did so. Vincent made small talk as I zoomed back towards the ship. I mostly just mumbled in agreement and astonishment at the right times, not really listening. I must have woken up shortly after the launch, for it only took about an hour to reach the ship again. As I approached, Vincent stopped his idle chatter. “Alright now, boy, listen carefully. Slowly depress the br
ake.” I did so, and the pod began to slow. “Now, do you see the marking in the shape of a black ancient space shuttle?” I squinted at the screen, then made it out. I responded in the affirmative. “Go towards it. Keep the brake slightly down.” I obeyed.
Suddenly his voice came on again, frantic and shouting. “Push the brake all the way! Now!” I did so, and felt the pod come to almost a complete halt, the reverse thrusters doing their job exceedingly well. My body flew forward, but I was stopped by the restraints before I hurt myself.
Vincent breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry there, Jak – I underestimated your speed.” I told him it was okay as I rubbed my aching neck. He guided me towards the image of the shuttle, and a door in the hull opened up to reveal a large docking space, slightly larger than the size of the Diplomat. I gently guided the pod in, and set it down (rather roughly) on the floor of the hangar. The door to the outside closed. Shaking, I pressed the button that popped open the top and climbed out. That was my first ever piloting experience. At the time, I was petrified, but looking back now, I think I did a pretty damn good job.
Vincent welcomed me back on board with a hug and a half-hearted admonishment (the hug surprised me – I had only talked to him once before this incident and he already treated me like I was his best friend). He again congratulated me on bypassing his security, and asked if I would help him go over the security systems tomorrow, so he could see where he went wrong (again). Seeing no other choice but to agree, I did so. He beamed at me. Worried, I asked him if the captain was going to punish me. He winked.
“How can the captain punish you for something he doesn’t know you did?” I could only stare at him. “Security has its ways of getting around the captain. We’re not stupid.” He nudged me. “Mather told me to escort you to your rooms to await punishment. Seeing as you won’t be facing that, I think I’ll just see you to your rooms.” I nodded my thanks and we set off, him chatting cheerfully, me nodding to his words. I was glad when we reached my room and I could say goodbye. I collapsed onto my bed. As I fell into a hazy sleep, I wondered if Ezekiel knew I had been gone.
9
“I wouldn’t worry overly much about the nationalistic tensions – though we may all come from different countries, and even different planets, one thing unites us all – our humanity, and our desire to serve mankind.”