Atlas

by Isaac Hooke

  The shuttle passed right by the docking bay.

  "Hey, I think the pilot missed a turn," Manic commented.

  The shuttle continued onward, heading for the cargo hatch on top of the bulk carrier instead.

  "Holy madre—" Alejandro said.

  I leaned forward, following his gaze.

  An entire ship was moored inside that cargo hold. The triangular hull barely fit within the confines, and though it was about the size of a frigate, the ship didn't have the sleek design of a military vessel—its boxy aft section bore more of a resemblance to a merchant craft than anything else. SK make too, I'd venture.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," Lieutenant Commander Braggs announced. "Meet the Royal Fortune, your home for the next few months. Also known as Róng Fù. It's a little SK privateer we captured a while back. Really just a merchant vessel retrofitted with turrets, but that suits our needs well enough. It's been modified with a few UC enhancements of course, but I won't get into that. Crew complement is forty, with berths for an extra thirty-five mission crew."

  "Looks a little stuffy," Fret said. He, like the Lieutenant Commander, had trouble just fitting inside the confines of this shuttle, and both of them had to slouch.

  "I think it looks cozy, personally," Snakeoil said. "But I like my ships small."

  "You would," Fret said to the short strongman. "Myself, I'm not looking forward to ducking under every hatch and bulkhead for the next two months."

  "Come on, it'll be good for you," Snakeoil said. "Extra PT."

  The instant we flew within the cargo hold, the bulk carrier started sealing its outer hatch.

  Ahead, the Royal Fortune had opened her own, smaller hangar bay, and our shuttle landed inside. A ship within a ship within a ship.

  When the privateer's hangar doors closed and the bay depressurized, our team stepped out.

  Most of the crew of the Fortune had come to welcome us aboard. They stood outside the airlock in a long file and saluted as one: Eight officers, thirty-two enlisted.

  Shaw was one of the enlisted.

  Of all the ships to be assigned to... the universe sure had a way of messing with me.

  As the Lieutenant Commander and the Captain exchanged formalities, Shaw stared straight ahead. I knew she'd seen me. I was positive. But she refused to acknowledge me.

  I sent a message to her embedded Id via my Implant. So this is the secret ship you couldn't tell me about.

  We were on the same network node, so I didn't have to worry about my message reaching her or not. I knew she got it.

  But she didn't answer.

  I looked right at her as I walked past, but she kept her gaze focused straight ahead.

  Ridiculous.

  Some ensign led us through the warren of passageways and ladders to deck four, where the mission-crew berthing compartment awaited.

  "Wasn't that Shaw?" Alejandro said along the way.

  "Mmm? I don't know. I didn't see her." I tried to sound nonchalant, but the crack in my voice betrayed me.

  "Yeahhhh, you saw her." He grinned. "A mamacita like that? Pretty hard to miss. She sure got hot in the past few years."

  "You talking about that showpiece who was standing three down from the Captain?" Big Dog said. "Now there's a woman. Definitely Officer Bait, that's for sure." He shot a significant glance at Facehopper, who ignored the comment.

  "She's not some showpiece." I was getting riled now.

  Big Dog shrugged. "Relax, Rade. What, you know this chick or something?"

  "Yeah. I mean, well, I used to."

  Big Dog nodded thoughtfully. "Girl like that in the Navy? The way she looks? Definitely has to be strong."

  "She is," I said. More than he knew.

  There were six racks in the mission berthing area, stacked three high. Since Alejandro, Tahoe and I were the newest members of the team, none of us got the prime real-estate of the lower racks. Manic took the bottom bunk on my rack, and I let Alejandro take the middle one, so that left me the top. Tahoe got the top one beside us.

  Manic stuffed his gear into the vertical locker beside the rack, leaving Alejandro and I the locker beneath the bottom bunk.

  When I finished unloading my gear I saw the "new message" icon appear on my HUD. It was from Shaw.

  I hopped onto the topmost bunk and opened the message up.

  Well look who showed up, it read.

  I smiled, and sent a message right back. Great gig you got for yourself here. Enjoying the life of a quartermaster?

  I prefer the title astrogator, she answered. Nice beard by the way.

  You've seen it before.

  Yup, came the immediate reply. But you've grown it out.

  Let's switch to vid.

  I initiated a vid call. She didn't pick up. I waited, and eventually the call canceled.

  There was a long pause before her next message. Look Rade, I'm kind of seeing someone.

  Suddenly my hands were shaking. She was seeing someone? I tried my best to keep calm. What did I care, anyway? That's okay. We're a zillion klicks from Earth. He'll never find out. Can we switch to vid?

  No we can't. And he's on this ship.

  It was my turn to pause. Oh. Didn't know you had your own Cruise boo.

  Whatever. He's kind of the jealous type, so we can't really hang out.

  My vision became slightly blurry at that comment. What, you're not allowed to have friends now? Sounds like he's more the possessive type to me.

  There was no answer.

  Good luck avoiding me on a ship this size, I sent stubbornly. Unless you plan on eating in your berth and never going to the gym.

  I waited for her to say something more, but the message box didn't update.

  "Rade," Alejandro was saying. "Alejandro to Rade, do you read me, over?" He waved sarcastically.

  Rade, what up bro? he transmitted. Get out of your Implant.

  "What," I said. "I'm here."

  He jerked a thumb toward Tahoe, who was waiting by the door. "We're going to get some chow. Coming?"

  "In a bit. Just uh, checking my mail."

  Alejandro snorted. "Yeahhhh. We don't get mail anymore, remember? But I know exactly what you're checking up on, if you know what I'm saying." He winked at me, then ducked outside. The rest of the platoon had already gone.

  I lay back and closed my eyes.

  I thought again on the universe's twisted sense of humor. I just had to find Shaw here, didn't I?

  Shaw. The girl I had a thing for.

  And she refused to hang out.

  Unbelievable.

  I heard the knock on the door a few seconds later.

  "Come in," I said. I couldn't help a smile.

  She'd come.

  I put my hands behind my head and didn't look down from where I lay on the upper bunk.

  "Well hello there QM Shaw Chopra," I said, using the abbreviation for her quartermaster rating. I looked at my Heads-Up-Display map, double-checking that it was indeed her.

  "Don't give me that QM bullcrap, PO3 Galaal."

  "Hey, we are in the Navy, ma'am. It's only proper to be proper."

  I finally glanced down at her. She had her arms crossed under her breasts and she was wearing her worst scowl. She certainly looked mighty fine in uniform, though.

  "So you don't want to be friends anymore, huh?" I lay back again.

  I heard one of the mattresses below bounce and, taking a peek, I saw she was sitting on the bottom bunk of the rack opposite mine. Facehopper's. I'd have to straighten out the leading petty officer's sheets when she got up.

  "You've changed," Shaw said.

  "So have you."

  "You look older, more mature," she said. "And that's good, I suppose. I never really noticed while talking over vid. But here, in person, I can definitely see it. And it's not just the beard. There's something else. The way you move. The look you have in your eye. Like you know some secret no one else knows. Like you've seen things. Bad things. I suppose... I suppose it's the look of a killer
."

  I shook my head. "You're priceless as usual Shaw."

  "Isn't that what they train you to be in spec-ops? You're all killers, aren't you?"

  I sat up, and dangled my legs over the edge of the bunk. "Look, sure, I've made a few kills in the war, but I'm not a killer. You're jumping to conclusions. I'm a warrior. And there's a difference."

  "Is there?" She didn't sound convinced. Not at all.

  I'd have to fix that. "A killer is someone who kills the weak and the innocent. A warrior is someone who removes those killers from society. He fights for justice, and the safety of his country. He's a protector of the innocent."

  "Now you're just spouting propaganda."

  "It's not propaganda. It's what I believe, Shaw."

  "You know how to kill someone in a hundred different ways, and the way you move shows that you're well aware of that fact. You can't tell me you're not a killer."

  "Who have you been talking to? A hundred different ways?" I shook my head. "Sure, maybe I'm more confident now, but listen Shaw, trust me: The Rules of Engagement won't let us target innocents. We'd all go to jail if we did that. Everything that happens on a battlefield is recorded by our weapons. We have thousands of military lawyers reviewing battle footage day in and day out from multiple angles, with the help of AIs. If I shot down someone who wasn't a baddie, I wouldn't be here with you today. I'd be in jail. All right?"

  She didn't have anything to say to that.

  "I take it you're not a big fan of the war in Mongolia?" I said.

  "No. Not a big fan of wars in general."

  I sat up on the bunk. "I was a warrior when you first met me. A Dissuader. A protector of the innocent. I just wasn't trained up. Just hadn't gone to war. I've come so far since then, but you know what? I'm the same now, even after everything. Maybe a little more confident, maybe a bit rougher around the edges, but I'm the same man inside. Shaw, look at me. Look at me." She did. "I'm the same."

  She couldn't hold my gaze for long.

  When she answered, her voice sounded so far away: "I can't believe it's been two years. Feels like a lifetime."

  "It didn't have to be this way. We had so many chances to meet up. Maybe we should have taken them."

  "But you know how I feel about long distance relationships..."

  I felt my face flush as I remembered our last chat session on Earth, when I'd told her how I felt about her. A strange mix of emotions bubbled up inside me. Anger, embarrassment, disappointment. "We're not long distance anymore, are we?" I said, a little bitterly.

  She didn't answer.

  "Tell me about this officer dude you're seeing," I said into the uncomfortable silence that followed.

  "Um, he's not an officer." Shaw fidgeted with her utility belt. "That would be fraternization."

  "Oh, then how did you get assigned to the Royal Fortune then?"

  She looked up at me, the shock clearly evident on her face. "Is that what you think? That I slept my way into this post?"

  I remained quiet.

  "Well, if you ever bothered to look at my profile, you'd find out that I graduated top of the class. I got the highest grade possible in every course I took. I got to where I am today because of my determination, not my sexual activity, or my looks."

  "You're right," I said. "I don't know what I was thinking. I didn't mean that, not at all. I know you better than that." I paused, reflecting on what she just said, and then I gave her a mischievous smile. "But your looks helped, you have to admit."

  Her scowled deepened for a moment, but then she let out a small laugh. "I suppose my charm helped sway a few people, yes."

  "Well who is this mystery dude of yours, then?"

  She hesitated.

  And then suddenly I knew. "There's no one, is there?"

  She sighed, staring at her fingers. "Not now, no."

  "Why say there was, then? Why throw away everything we had? Everything we could have had?"

  She didn't meet my gaze. Just stared at her hands, twining and untwining her fingers. "No one could ever measure up."

  "To what? Your breathtaking, put-me-on-a-pedestal beauty? Or maybe your awe-inspiring personality?"

  She didn't look at me.

  "Well, maybe it's about time you got over yourself and came back down to live with the rest of us mortals."

  She shook her head. "You don't understand." I couldn't believe it. She sounded like she was crying. "My expectations are high because of you." She finally met my eyes. Definitely tears. "No one could ever measure up to you."

  I stared at her, open-mouthed. "I'm such a jerk, Shaw."

  I leaped down from my rack, led her to a storage closet, and took her right there.

  * * *

  The bulk carrier that held the Royal Fortune headed straight for the SK-owned Gate, Tiàoyuè De Kǒng, which led to Tau Ceti. The Gate name roughly meant "Leaping Hole." The transport time to the Gate was estimated at fifty-five days.

  A whole lot of time for me and Shaw to get reacquainted. It was almost like old times. In the enlisted mess hall, Tahoe, Alejandro and I normally ate with Snakeoil, Fret, Manic, Lui and Bomb, and we folded Shaw and her friend Benjamin "from engineering" into our group readily enough. Benjamin didn't like me too much—I was pretty sure he'd been angling to bang her before I came on board, despite Shaw's insistence that he was "just a friend." Or maybe he was a previous flame of hers. I didn't know, and I didn't ask. I was the one who was banging Shaw now, and that's all that really mattered. Who was I to hold any ill-will against the dude? I don't think he even knew what was going on between us, though I'm sure he suspected. Just as my closest friends suspected, though so far I hadn't admitted to a thing.

  "So what's it like banging the hottest girl on the ship?" Manic said one time after Shaw and Benjamin left early. He scratched the moth-shaped port-wine stain on his temple with one finger. "Bet she does some amazing things between the sheets. Speaking of which, man, that reminds me of this one stripper back home, what's her name, RPG Tipper, that's it. You guys remember her? The one who poses with the rockets on her animated poster? She has this special bra she wears, looks like gun barrels on the tips of her nipples. Anyway, she sure could give it. Mmm. Sometimes I wish I could just lie with her every moment of every day and just bang the crap out of her, the service be damned. But it wasn't meant to be. I'd probably get bored after a few weeks anyway. So what was I talking about again? Oh yeah, Rade, you and that girl. Man!"

  "Yeah baby!" Bomb interjected quickly, before Manic could say more. "Lucky bastard. What I wouldn't give for a piece of that right now." Bomb's short mohawk was dyed red these days, which, combined with his dark-skin, gave him kind of a punk look.

  "Stick to your virtual women, guys," Alejandro said. "You touch his mamacita and Rade will castrate you both, I guarantee it. This one time in the barrio—"

  "Not another barrio story!" Lui threw up his hands. "I've had it up to here with those." He raised his hand far above his head. "To here!"

  Tahoe was wolfing down his fifth serving of ham. "They're actually right, Alejandro," he said, calmly. "Rade is a very lucky man. I know if Tepin were here, I'd be rushing back to meet her at the end of each day. But there's a warning in that. Back on Earth, when Tepin had finally come to live near the base, I found myself constantly distracted. It was hard to focus on the training, because I'd be thinking about her all day, and my kids. For all I whine about not seeing my wife when we're on deployment, it's probably better for the mission, for the team, that she is very far away."

  I nodded. "Point taken, Tahoe. I'd never put any of you in danger because of her." His words reminded me of the admonishment RDC Bowden had given me way back in Basic, about love and war not mixing.

  "So you are banging her!" Manic said. "I knew it!"

  "I never said that."

  And so it went.

  To be honest, I was training as hard as ever, and didn't think my performance had declined. In fact, I felt more alive than ever because of her, and exc
elled at everything I did as far as I was concerned. I'm sure my friends saw it. I worked out harder. I trained harder. I did everything to the best of my ability. It was like I wanted to be the best possible man for her.

  She made me want to be my best self.

  Still, she kind of ruined the little dream life I was living a few weeks into our fling. Shaw, she was good at that.

  "You know there's no future for us," she said, after we'd had our fun in one of the supply compartments during a mutual break. "You know how I feel about long distance relationships."

  "Yeah, I know." I pretended not to care, but it felt like she'd slapped me.

  She must have sensed my lie, because her face softened, and she said, "Maybe when our terms are up..."

  But my term wasn't up until twelve years from now. Hers ended in ten.

  No, after this mission we'd go our separate ways.

  Again.

  "I wish I could say that this was more than just fun," she continued. "But I can't."

  "I know."

  "See, right here, right now, this is why I didn't meet up with you these past two years. This feeling, right now, knowing that it would all have to end."

  I smiled sadly. "Okay, Shaw."

  "What I'm trying to say, Rade, is... don't get your hopes up."

  I exhaled. "Shaw. You've already fulfilled my every hope. If the mission ended today, if I died now, I could say I lived full. I'd die a very happy man."

  "Good," she murmured softly. "Good." I saw her eyes move to the upper right as she accessed her Implant.

  "What, looking for a quote more suitable to the moment?" I said.

  "No." She smiled sadly. "I'm archiving what you said. So I can replay it in the deepest, darkest hours."

  "There won't be any deep, dark hours again, not while I'm around."

  But not even I believed that.

  * * *

  Eventually the starship reached Tiàoyuè De Kǒng Gate. The "Leaping Hole."

  The ship was on Condition Zebra, which was the highest possible state of readiness. The Royal Fortune, like most starships, was subdivided into many smaller airtight compartments, and Condition Zebra ensured that all hatches and scuttles were sealed tight so that in a breach scenario (ie: combat) the entire ship wouldn't implode. The spread of fires and fumes was prevented as well, because valves in the pipes and ventilation systems would activate in damaged sections, completely sealing those compartments off from the rest of the ship. The bulk carrier that harbored us was set up the same way.