Project Columbus: Omnibus

by J. C. Rainier

  That was all the encouragement that Darius needed. He signed up the first chance he could get and was shipped to Basic weeks later.

  They gave me training, and the travel that I have done so far has exceeded the dreams of any high school kid. Although at this point I don’t think I’ll get to go to college when I’m out.

  “I see I’m not the only one who daydreams around here.” A soft, accented voice brought him back to the ship.

  “No man is an angel, Doc. Every man is a dreamer.”

  Dr. Kimura smiled warmly at Darius. “This is true. A man cannot hope to find his path without a dream. Tell me, what is it that you dream of so fondly that you can’t let go of that beam?”

  “Home. Years past.” He let go of the brace and gave it a short glance.

  “Undoubtedly happy memories of family and friends.”

  “I’ll take anything I can get at this point,” Darius replied.

  Dr. Kimura paused briefly and the smile evaporated from his face. “Something troubles you, then?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Please, tell me. Maybe I can help.”

  “I would if I could, believe me. But you can’t help in the matter.”

  “I can try if you let me, Darius.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t even get that far. I have orders.”

  “I see.” Kimura paused again. “If there ever is anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to ask. I know that you saved my life.”

  Darius gave Kimura a shocked look. He hushed his voice to a whisper and asked, “How do you know that?”

  “Please,” the doctor responded with a slight laugh. “I was not told by anyone. Do not forget who helped design this ship. I pieced together what happened based on Colonel Eriksen’s investigation and the project I know you’ve been working on since we left Earth. The colonel’s precious classified information is still a secret.”

  Darius gave a weak smile. “Good point. I’ll remember to ask you if I need something.” He bowed courteously toward Dr. Kimura, which caused him to flip over forward. Kimura laughed and retreated to his sleeper pod. Darius sighed and frowned.

  You may not have your freedom when we get there, Doc. I hope I can actually take you up on that promise.

  Brev Capt Haruka Kimura

  24 September 2024, 11:50

  Raphael

  Haruka struggled to right herself as she caught the handle of a cart. It groaned as it pulled at its shackles. One of the three meal pouches tucked under her arm tried to squirt free. She carefully pulled her crooked arm forward and let go of the cart to quickly adjust her load. Her lungs drew in a deep breath, which she pushed out as she prepared herself for the next push toward the propulsion section.

  Damn, this is harder than it looks. I’ll be lucky if I can surprise them. Her stomach grumbled at her. Then again they may not care about the surprise, just the food.

  She was thankful that she had chosen to raid food from pod fourteen, one of the rearmost sleeper pods. Anything farther forward would have made her journey with lunch that much harder. Haruka pulled herself down to the deck, braced her legs on the plating, and shot toward the rear airlock. She could feel the cold air rush past her cheeks as she flew, hugging the meals to her chest.

  She realized too late that her trajectory through the mouth of the airlock was slightly off. She tried to twist around to avoid impacting the wall head-first and managed to get her shoulder in front of her just before she bumped onto it. This broke her grasp, and the meal pouches scattered down the hallway. Haruka cursed under her breath and carefully navigated the hallway, collecting the pouches as she went.

  She reached the hatch to the propulsion control room and found that she could not open the latch while holding lunch, so she carefully set it adrift and yanked on the handle. It gave way and the hatch opened with a metallic groan. Once more she rounded up the food and brought it in.

  Lieutenant Mancini watched her entrance from his control station. Airman Nova Weyler had her back turned, her attention squarely on whatever she was monitoring on her terminal.

  “Look who’s here, Nova,” Mancini smiled.

  “And with lunch,” Haruka added as she lightly flung a pouch at Mancini.

  “So the Princess not only graces us with her presence, but also serves us. What did us humble little folk do so right?” Mancini teased.

  “Oh, stow it Marco.” She looked at Nova, who was still staring at the screen. “Nova, are you even alive over there?”

  Her head snapped up and whipped around, and her blonde hair wrapped across her face a split second later. Nova reached up and parted her locks from her face. “Huh? What?”

  “Food.” Haruka tossed a pouch at the younger woman. “Try not to forget to eat since starvation makes work a lot harder.”

  “Sorry, Captain. I’ll try not to.”

  “I keep telling you it’s ok to call me Haruka.”

  “Haruka,” Nova corrected. “Sorry. Just not used to being on a first name basis with officers.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Haruka took the last open seat and strapped in, then tore her provisions open and produced a bag of stroganoff. “Yuck.”

  Mancini chuckled. “Did the Princess forget to check what meal she had before opening it?”

  “Shut it, Marco.”

  There was truth to what he said, however. Haruka had forgotten to check the meals before handing them out. Mancini dug his fork into his bag, drew out a bite of chicken, and ate it with as much dramatic flair as he could muster.

  “Mmm. Tastes like chicken. How ‘bout yours, Kimura?”

  She shook her head as she gave an exasperated sigh. I’m so glad we are only awake for a week at a time. I’d throttle him if it were much longer.

  “So how is life on the bridge, Capt… I mean, Haruka,” Nova asked.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Nova before returning her attention to lunch. “Well, other than wracking my brains on these course corrections, not too shabby.”

  “Course corrections,” Mancini repeated. “What course corrections would those be?”

  Haruka froze mid-bite. Crap. I wasn’t supposed to tell them. She quickly thought of what she should say to her friends.

  “Nothing important,” she bluffed. “Just trying to figure out when I’m going to fire the attitude thrusters, just in case.”

  “Why, what’s wrong?”

  She searched for her next lie. “It looks like we’ve been doing a very slow corkscrew motion,” she said as she motioned with her finger. “We might end up upside down when we reach the planet, so we’re going to have to roll and correct that at some point. I’ve just been trying to figure out the best time to do it, that’s all.” She turned again to Nova. “I trust the thrusters are still in good shape?”

  “What?” Nova seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Oh, yeah. They’re fine.”

  “Good. Then we have nothing to worry about.”

  Mancini grinned again. “Good. I’d hate to have to enjoy those warm, sunny beaches I’ve been dreaming of dangling from a harness.”

  “Yeah, that would spoil your quest for a margarita, wouldn’t it Prince Marco?”

  “Yep. And we can’t have that.”

  Haruka chuckled. “So how’s life back here in the ass end of space?”

  “Oh, just peachy,” replied Mancini. “Since you’ve been gone I haven’t been more than thirty feet from that damned reactor, since little miss cherry picker over here gets on duty first and bolts.”

  “Hey,” Nova protested.

  Haruka laughed. “It sounds like karma’s been biting you, Marco. You stuck me with the reactor enough yourself.”

  He sighed. “Yeah, there is that. But in truth, we’ll probably be done early. Nova is really fast with her work. In fact, I’d say that unless Major Emberley has any other operational items or you still need to crunch your numbers, we can probably all head off to sleep tonight for a nice five year nap.”

  “I can’t complain
about that idea. The fewer days we stay awake, the better in my opinion.”

  “That’s right. Fewer days in this tin can, more days working on my tan.”

  Haruka gagged mockingly. “How poetic.”

  They continued eating in silence. Haruka occasionally shot a glance at Nova, who sat in silence with only the back of her head visible over the seat. She’s been awfully quiet. I wonder if she’s ok.

  Mancini belched loudly. A moment later, Haruka could smell the tang of marinated chicken.

  “Ugh, really Marco,” she complained.

  “What? Couldn’t hold it in forever.”

  “Whatever. I think the computer core is calling your name, maybe you want to make friends with it.”

  He frowned. “That’s harsh, Kimura.”

  “Seriously,” she said sternly. “Beat it before I make you listen to girl talk.”

  She heard him quickly unbuckle. “Alright, I know what’s best for my own health.” Mancini made his way through the hatch and closed it behind him.

  Haruka released her straps and collected the trash floating around the compartment. She watched Nova as she worked, but the young airman seemed to avoid eye contact with her. After she rounded up the errant bits of packaging, she stowed them.

  “What’s wrong, Nova?”

  “Huh? Oh, nothing,” she replied with a slight hesitation.

  Haruka moved to the side of Nova’s workstation. She steadied herself with one arm on the terminal and the other on the bulkhead. “That’s not what it looks like to me. Are you upset? Have I done something? Has Marco?” Nova bit her lip and turned her head away from Haruka. Haruka leaned to her left, trying to regain eye contact. “It’s Marco, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t want to cause any trouble, Captain.”

  “Please, it’s Haruka,” she said. She was beginning to wonder if she sounded like a broken record. “And if he’s doing something wrong, just let me know. I can make him stop, whatever it is.”

  The blonde girl looked up at Haruka and sighed. “I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but he keeps hitting on me. It creeps me out.”

  That hairy, pint-sized jerk. I told him to leave her alone…

  Haruka smiled at Nova. “Say no more, I’ll make sure he keeps it professional from now on.”

  “Please, forget I said anything. I don’t want him to take this out on me.”

  “Don’t worry. Marco’s really harmless. He just gets… ah… excited sometimes.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Nova, her voice almost a squeak.

  “Positive. Now if you’re as far ahead as Marco said you are, go ahead and get back to work.” Haruka looked at the hatch that led to the core and gallery. “The sooner we can get this over with, the better.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Haruka,” she said with an exasperated sigh.

  “Sorry. Haruka.”

  “You’re never going to get used to that, are you?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Alright. Well, see you for chow, Nova.” Haruka received a nod from Nova, and then she exited through the hatch. She made a bee line for the computer core and flung its door open.

  Mancini was at the mainframe terminal. His head was down and he listened to a headset that he cradled to his ear in one hand; he had a tendency not to wear such equipment if he was not going to use it for long.

  Haruka pushed herself straight down an aisle between server racks, straight to the chair where Mancini sat. She halted herself with the chair, which jostled Mancini.

  “Hey, what the…” was all he got out of his mouth before Haruka delivered a sickening slap to the back of his head. The headset flew from his hand and yanked back as it reached the end of its cord. “Ow. What the hell, Kimura?”

  “Just jogging your memory, Marco,” she said, trying to hold back her fury. “Is it working?”

  “Well, you’ve got my attention at least.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Would you mind just telling me what this is about? I don’t want to play 20 Questions for Marco because I know what you give for wrong answers.”

  “Nova.”

  “What about her?”

  “Stop trying to get in her flight suit.”

  Mancini’s eyes narrowed and his jaw slacked; Haruka knew he was thinking. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Haruka growled and raised her hand. She brought it down to smack him again, but he caught her by the wrist.

  “Whoa, whoa, seriously Kimura,” he said as his voice rose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Right, so that’s why she told me that you’ve been hitting on her and creeping her out I suppose.”

  “What? When?”

  “When you’ve been working together,” she snapped back. She pushed her legs back from the chair and yanked free of his grip. The momentum sent her crashing into a server rack behind her.

  “When I’ve been working with…” he trailed off as he processed. “I’ve seen her a grand total of maybe a half hour this cycle. Most of that was just before you came in with lunch. The rest of the time I’ve been inspecting that god damned reactor or my butt’s been stuck in a generator tube.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Marco, I swear to God.”

  “I’m not lying, Kimura. Look at me.” He looked directly at her, as if he was begging her to look in his eyes. “I’m telling you the truth. You told me last cycle not to mess with her and I’m not.”

  Haruka moved back to Marco and looked him square in the eye. He’s telling the truth. She sighed. “I’m sorry, Marco. I believe you.”

  Mancini rubbed his head again. “I know you’re protective of your girl there, but that was kind of overboard, don’t you think?”

  Haruka felt her cheeks flush. She averted her eyes. “I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

  Mancini gave a laugh that was half snort. “Don’t worry about it. I’m still your man, no matter what.” She felt his hand clasp her forearm.

  “Thanks. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

  “I’ll tell you how,” he said with a devilish grin. “We’re upgrading from a breakfast date to a dinner date when we get to the planet.”

  “Okay, fine. But the same rules apply. Try anything funny and I’ll break your nose myself.”

  “Alright, it’s a date then,” he said cheerfully.

  Haruka turned and left the computer core. She slid the hatch shut behind her. With one hand still on the lever, she dropped her head, and imagined the awkward date she had just signed herself up for.

  I really don’t want to get deeper in debt with him. If I keep up at this rate, he’ll say I owe him a kiss. She shuddered and made way for the bridge.

  Calvin McLaughlin

  Date and time unknown

  Michael

  The deck plate clanked with every footfall. Faint echoes bounced off of the dark walls and tickled his ears. Calvin did not stop running; his heart pounded and his lungs swallowed great breaths of air, yet his legs did not tire. They could not, for he could not afford to stop.

  The echoes of his steps were drowned out by another chorus of voices from the darkness behind. At best they spoke gibberish, but most either laughed at him or hurled unintelligible insults at him. He clutched his ears as he ran in a vain attempt to block the assault on his mind.

  Make them stop! When will they stop?

  Cal could not be sure how long he had been running. His mind was aware that he was dreaming, but time had no reference in stasis. All he knew is that he had been running since he fell asleep, and it felt like a week. Two days ago he had stopped trying to figure out if his legs were still attached or if they had actually fallen off. Two days prior to that, he had stopped contemplating just how long Michael had to be for him to run in a straight line for so long.

  He could no longer hear the voices. Cal dropped his arms from his head and resumed pumping them in a renewed sprint. He laughed maniacally.

  “I’m beating them! I can run faster than sound,�
�� he shouted.

  A few moments later, the cacophony came back. He screeched and threw his hands back to his ears in an ineffective bid to stop it.

  “Oh God, make it stop,” he pled to the darkness.

  This pattern played itself out for the next fifteen minutes. Every time Cal thought he had shaken the voices, they seemed to come back a little stronger. Each time he ran with a more fevered stride, until he could no longer outrun them.

  Coward, a single word tore through his mind like scissors through paper.

  Cal faltered, and he tumbled to a stop on the deck plating; his right hand complained with a sharp stabbing pain. He looked at his hand and saw his fingers taped together, where moments earlier it had been free and whole.

  Cal rose to his knees and looked around the dim corridor. A pair of dark braces jutted up from behind him like teeth in the shadows. He was alone, and defenseless.

  “Come on, bring it on,” he challenged the darkness.

  Coward, the voice said again. The tone was clearer and it had a peculiar familiarity to it.

  His hands began to tremble. “Show yourself,” he said as his voice cracked. “If you’re going to call me a coward, show your damned face.”

  Cal heard an echoing in the distance. It was not a voice, but rather a metallic noise that was moving slowly closer. He strained for a moment and realized that it was the echo of footsteps on the deck plating.

  “About time,” he taunted as he looked down the gallery.

  He could make out a shadowy figure walking toward him about fifty feet away. Whoever it was had a long stride, and was very tall; possibly as tall as Calvin himself. As the apparition approached, he saw that it was also slender and walked in an ungainly fashion. Then a detail caught his eye, and Cal’s jaw slacked.

  The fingers on the right hand are taped together.

  The figure emerged from the shadows behind the structural braces, shrouded in a disheveled blue flight suit bearing the name “Forrest” on the chest. Cal looked down at his own attire and saw the name on his own flight suit. He snapped his head up and found himself staring into his own blue eyes.