No Safe Harbor: The Silver Liner

by Daniel Sullivan

  Once she was solid with side kicking, Mun then alternated between front, roundhouse and side-kicks. They went another half hour and by the end, Terri found that she was fairly comfortable with the workout. Of course, an hour long workout was something she was not used to and it wore her out, but it felt good.

  “There,” Mun said triumphantly. “You did it! Just cycle through the kicks for maybe a half-hour a day. It’ll burn calories and keep you limber. Next week, we can work punches in.”

  “Thanks! You’re a good teacher. Should I call you ‘Master’ Mun?”

  He laughed self-consciously, looking down. “Nah. Just call me Kang.”

  “I need to hit the shower, but if you’re up for more practice tomorrow, I’ll be here.”

  “Sure,” Mun agreed. “Same time. See you then.”

  Kendrick finished his shift on the bridge and returned to his cabin. He felt like he was physically back to where he was before Borislav’s sneak attack and thought he might be ready to jump back into the sparring rotation. The captain was curious as to what sparring with Cyrus and Keyes would be like. Both Ronan and Kang had spoken glowingly of the newcomers’ ability skill level. The captain was about to ascend the stairs to the loft, when his intercom chirped.

  “Royce here,” he called out.

  “Ken,” said a soft voice. “It’s me. Awake now … want to see you.”

  He looked around his cabin, remembering the time he had spent with Fiona watching movies, talking, making plans; just being in each other’s arms. None of it would have come to fruition had Fiona not lived. He thought about how close he had come to losing her and vowed that they would waste no more time. Every moment was precious and not a single moment was guaranteed.

  “On my way,” he said enthusiastically.

  Kendrick left his cabin at once and was soon in her cabin, at her bedside. Her color had returned to her, though she was still bedridden. Her speech had improved remarkably in only four weeks, but she had never regained full use of her limbs. She had feeling, but could not move her legs and had only limited use of her right arm. Though non-ambulatory, she still tired easily and rested a lot. She struggled to sit up on her own, reaching out to him as he joined her. The doctor was attired in only a t-shirt and a pair of what had been his late wife’s gym shorts. The garments hung loosely on her skeletal frame. As he took her hand, she weakly pulled close to kiss him.

  “Can’t walk … can’t … can’t read.” Though her voice was soft, it was no longer a raspy whisper. Strength, if not volume, had returned to her voice once more.

  “Can’t read?”

  She nodded. “Severe dyslexia. Can Lena pilot from anywhere in the ship?”

  “Yeah, she can, why?”

  “Need her in the Med Bay.”

  “She’s already there,” he assured. “You just get well. We have a year in space ahead of us and much of it will be on auto-pilot anyway. There’s no hurry.”

  “For me to be at my post, no,” she agreed. “But for us, I think there is.”

  “Fi?”

  “Ken, I died. I didn’t just go under … I was dead. I’ve been given a second chance, a second life. My old life was fifty-four years of guilt, self-doubt and fear covered by self-righteousness. This life … will not be so long. Can’t waste a second.”

  He pulled her close, kissing her cheek. “I know, babe. I know, but …”

  Her lips pressed into his, cutting his response short with a passionate kiss. “No buts,” she said when their lips parted. “I died before we could marry. God … gave me a new life … let’s make it count, Ken. Whatever we face, we’ll face as husband and wife.”

  “What about your family? Don’t you want …?”

  “Crew … is my family.” She kissed him again and smiled. “We can have a formal ceremony on Earth … your family there …” Her strength was waning and she was having difficulty getting the words out. “I want to know that … in eyes of God, here … now, we’re married. I … will be yours.” She flashed him a coy smile. “No more waiting.”

  Kendrick nodded. “I’ll talk to Ronan tonight.”

  She kissed him deeply, then whispered, “I love you, Ken.”

  Lena sat at the helm. She was splitting her time between the bridge and the Med Bay, having found the latter did not need her constant presence, but her presence on the bridge was helpful. As she piloted the Selene, she considered all that had happened since escaping Phoenix. They had nearly been caught by the U.P.A., with only Amanda’s intervention keeping them free. Lena and the captain had shared a moment of vulnerability, both prisoners of General Martins and Fiona had been clinically dead for long enough that her return to life was the stuff of miracles. Ever since, Lena had been flying the ship, both while on the bridge, and while acting as the ship’s doctor. With her aphasia and ataxia, there was no telling when, or even if, Fiona would return to her post.

  An Escort-7’s power cells recharged at night, typically through a wireless connection, and were designed to be more than enough for the duties the units were meant for. Extreme physical exertions, such as the shoot outs and flight from Alliance commandos they had experienced, could drain them, leaving the unit ‘tired,’ but Lena had only gone from the Med Bay to the bridge. For the first time, she realized that she was emotionally drained.

  “Are you busy?” It was Keyes’ voice.

  Lena looked around, seeing Amanda and Mun both looking at her with concern. “If you need me, I am here. Why do you ask?”

  “You’re like, flying the ship and monitoring Fiona,” Mun replied. “You actually look … tired.”

  Lena realized that her emotional and physical wear was showing. This was not good.

  “You know, you can just leave it on auto and go rest,” Keyes said. “Are you sure you don’t want to?”

  “I can’t, Amanda,” Lena said. “I must do what my captain cannot. Unfortunately, this platform does not have the endurance of my old one. The past month has been very taxing for me. It is not something I have had to contend with before.”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, especially when you’re wiped out, but we have another problem that I need to bring to your attention,” Keyes said, sounding miffed. “That transponder we turned off … it’s on again.”

  “Did it just happen?”

  “No; it happened during the night. I noticed it earlier and according to the ship’s logs, it was activated at something like four in the morning.”

  “That ain’t good,” Mun said.

  “I turned it off,” Keyes replied. “But it’s randomly turning on and off.”

  “It is not random,” Lena countered. “There is only one reason that a transponder would reactivate: someone is causing it to, in order to track us. It is either a cyber-attack, or it is being activated manually.”

  “Manually?” Amanda furrowed her brow. “That means we have traitor in our midst.”

  “Hypothesis,” Lena opened. “While a cyber-attack is still a possibility, either the Alliance or the United States could have inserted an agent aboard the Selene while all of us were ashore during General Martins attempt to capture us.”

  “I’ll sweep with you, Lena,” Mun offered. “We can get Cyrus and Ronan too, if you want.”

  “Thank you, Kang,” Lena replied. “We will enlist Cyrus. The three of us should be sufficient.”

  “I have a better idea,” Keyes offered. “Why don’t I sweep? I’m trained to do this and it will leave you free to handle communications while the ship flies on auto. If I go down, I’m expendable, while you’re vital to us getting to earth.”

  “Very well,” the gynoid conceded. “I will leave it in your hands.” Lena then unbuckled herself. “I must go to the Med Bay; Cyrus has messaged me with a proposal.”

  “Proposal,” Kang asked. “You two getting married?”

  Lena pondered the question thoughtfully for a moment. “As a gynoid, a man of his skills would be a good match for me and he is aesthetically pleasing, b
ut no. He wishes to help Fiona regain her mobility.” She then turned to Amanda. “Please update the captain on the transponder as soon as you have any information.” With that, she floated from the bridge, enjoying the weightlessness as she propelled herself to the lift.

  Kendrick entered the Med Bay, mainly to see how Lena was doing, and was surprised to find her discussing something with Cyrus at one of the ship’s diagnostic screens, displaying what appeared to be an image of Fiona. Cyrus smiled and waved him over.

  “Captain, just the man I wanted to talk to.”

  “Hey, Cyrus, Lena. What’s going on?”

  “Captain, I believe I can help your fiancée with her mobility problems.”

  This piqued his interest. “I like the sound of that! What did you have in mind?”

  “Look here,” Cyrus motioned to the screen. “I could construct an exoskeleton that would enable her to stand, walk, use her arms and even propel herself in a weightless environment. I’ve looked in the parts bin you and Heather have amassed; you have more than I need to build it. I am a robotics expert, Captain. It would not be hard.”

  “Cyrus, I don’t know what to say … that’s … that’s amazing!”

  “From the perspective of most, I would imagine so,” Cyrus replied with a chuckle.

  “Cyrus, that is incredibly generous. Thank you! I … thank you!”

  The big merc smiled and nodded. “Just say the word and I’ll get started. It’ll give me something to do on what is likely to be a very dull return trip.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Kendrick remarked. “I think we’ve had our quotient of excitement for the rest of the year!”

  Father Ronan had finished the weekly cleanup of the chapel, which was mainly vacuuming and dusting. Their visit to Mars had been an ordeal and left the Selene in a more precarious position when she took off than when she had landed. The only thing the trip to Mars had yielded, was an increase of two in the crew size, Mun’s recovery and Terri, who would consume resources while being neither a member of the crew nor a paying passenger. While saving Terri had been the right thing to do and he was glad to have been able to help, she brought nothing vital to the table.

  The priest was about to return to his cabin to prepare his Sunday sermon when the captain entered the chapel, a troubled look on his face. Ronan knew right away that this was no mere social call.

  “You got a few minutes, Father?”

  “Of course, Captain,” the priest replied. “I was just finishing up. What’s on your mind?”

  “Yeah, well … I need to talk to you about Fiona and me.”

  “I was just about to go to my cabin and brew coffee. Talk there?”

  “That’d be nice, Father,” Kendrick replied. “I could use a cup.”

  The two walked next door to Ronan’s cabin. Compared to Kendrick’s, it was Spartan. There was a coffee table and a corner sectional style sofa, along with some individual chairs and little else; besides his bed and dresser. Only a bathroom and small kitchen area added any luxury to the dwelling. Kendrick took a seat on one end of the sectional, while Ronan began brewing coffee, knowing that the captain would appreciate it.

  “So, tell me what’s going on.” The priest placed his hands in his lap, waiting patiently for the captain to speak.

  Kendrick shook his head. “Fiona’s convinced she met Jesus. I want to believe her more than anything, but I generally don’t buy into that out of body stuff. You’re a priest, Father,” Kendrick began. “Do you … Do you believe she saw what she thinks she saw? Experienced what she thinks she experienced?”

  “I’m not the best person to ask,” Ronan said with a laugh. “I’m predisposed to believe her. Every ounce of Church doctrine affirms what she says. That said, Fiona was very religious, raised in a strict Catholic home. The pieces are certainly there for her mind to generate such an experience on its own. That doesn’t make her experience any less valid.”

  Kendrick raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? If she hallucinated the entire thing, how is that in any way valid?”

  Ronan laughed. “Kendrick, God is a spirit. Who’s to say that her mind’s ability to generate the experience is not the means through which God chose to reach her?”

  “Hmm. Hadn’t thought of it that way, but I guess that’s as good an answer as any. God hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with a master-plan when I’ve been in prayer.”

  “That is why I’m here,” Ronan replied. “It’s why we’re all here; we are Christ to one another, you know. God is not a distant being and Jesus is not merely a human off in some celestial realm. The Kingdom of Heaven is something we can touch in the here and now. We may not enter it until death, but we can touch it, bring some of its beauty to the lives of those around us. God rarely speaks directly to us. He speaks through those around us and often through the things that happen to us.”

  “Makes sense,” Kendrick conceded. “Never really thought of it like that, but it makes more sense than a lot of what I heard over the years, but that ain’t the only reason I’m here.”

  Seeing that the coffee was brewed, Ronan poured a cup for Kendrick and one for himself, taking a deep draught of the dark beverage. “Oh? What else was on your mind?”

  Kendrick took a sip of the coffee and savored the aroma for a moment, then said, “We want you to marry us as soon as possible.”

  “As soon as we’re back on Earth, I can …”

  “No, Father, I mean like tomorrow.

  Ronan whistled, his eyes opening wide. “That’s a pretty big step, Captain,” the priest warned. “Are you certain you want to move that quickly?”

  “After what we’ve been through? We could be dead any moment, Father. I’d say tonight, if I thought you’d be willing.”

  Ronan shrugged. “If you don’t want a big affair, I could do it right now. It would not be a legal marriage, but you would be married in the eyes of God. Certainly, this is not sudden; you’ve known each other for over a year, you popped the question more than a month ago.”

  “Seriously?” Kendrick lit up. “You mean you’d do it right now?”

  Ronan nodded. “Why not? As you say, the next moment is never guaranteed. Did you want to assemble the crew in the chapel and maybe have a pizza party reception?”

  “Sure. I’ll tell Fiona now.”

  “Give me an hour to prepare,” Ronan instructed. “Then meet me in the chapel.”

  As the Liberty sped towards Mars, Captain Gifford’s, Commander Jax and Colonel Tracht sat in the conference room. Gifford’s had just shared the fate of the Ramos and the Phantasm, and apprised the colonel of Lorgen’s involvement.

  “So, he has another Enigma class cutter,” Tracht mused. “Tell me, Captain; to whom was the distress signal sent?”

  “It was sent through secure channels to NessCorp.” Gifford’s replied. “We only know about it because we were able to obtain the Ramos’ communications logs.”

  “This was sent months ago, sir,” Jax added.

  “Which makes this even more troubling,” Tracht noted. “NessCorp is involved with a defense project that I’m working on. The fact that this was withheld nearly cost us our lives and did cost the lives of the Phantasm’s crew. And now that he has that ship, Lorgen can visit harm upon practically anyone he wants.”

  “For all we know, he already has,” Jax noted.

  “Indeed, Commander,” the colonel agreed. “Our top priority is stopping him. Good going to both of you; anyone else would have walked straight into Lorgen’s trap!”

  “Jax should receive the credit,” Gifford’s said. “I was about to walk into Lorgen’s trap, in spite of it feeling wrong. He’s the one who suggested doing some prep work first.”

  “Not every captain would have listened to a subordinate,” Tracht noted. “Besides, you made sure he was on that ship with you, something I signed off on, in spite of my initial reservations.”

  “Reservations?” Jax raised an eyebrow.

  “Not about you, Commander,” Tracht said
with a laugh. “You were already slated to go to another ship; the Enigma, ironically. But Carrol was insistent, and she’s earned a bit of pull after all she’s done. Her insistence just saved my life.”

  “Colonel,” Gifford’s asked, “What was on Venus?”

  “Something that requires a higher security clearance than either of you have,” the Colonel replied.

  Before she could press the issue further, they were interrupted by the chime of the intercom.

  “Gifford’s,” the captain said, responding to the call.

  “Captain,” came Henderson’s voice, “we’ve just picked up the Selene. She’s left Mars, her heading retrograde and in a reducing radius.”

  “Retrograde?” Gifford’s looked at Jax, who shrugged, then looked up.

  “Reducing radius,” the commander exclaimed. “That would take them back toward Earth.”

  “Have your helm plot an intercept course,” Tracht said. “We need to catch that ship.”

  “Sir, we’re fast, but to catch the Selene?” Gifford’s shook her head. “Not happening.”

  “I have a plan, Captain,” Tracht chuckled. “And it’s already in motion. Trust me.”

  Gifford’s looked at Jax, who shrugged again. “Mr. Munroe, plot an intercept course,” Gifford’s said over the intercom. “Ms. Carlisle, light it up!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” came Carlisle’s enthusiastic reply.

  Gifford’s turned to Tracht. “All right, Colonel; let’s catch ourselves a silver liner.”

  Chapter 12

  Wedding Bells

  Fiona took her place at last with Kendrick before the altar. In lieu of a wedding gown, she wore a plain white shirt dress that buttoned down the front, the neckline flanked by lapels. There was no traditional procession or wedding march; with no wedding gown and no father to give her away, she felt that this would have been extraneous. Still wheelchair bound, suffering the after effects of her clinical death, Fiona was physically taxed; and the wedding had not even started. She looked up at the man to whom she would be married in just a few short minutes and broke into a wide grin. The doctor felt her eyes misting over at the sight.