Proving True: A Sonia MacTaggert Novel

by Robert Culp

  I pat her on the shoulder, trying not to be condescending. “We’ll figure it out when we’re underway. As to the patent, it’s only fair, you put in a lot of hard work, and it’s unreasonable that you shouldn’t share in the proceeds.” I call to the trio in front of us, “Hey, Freddie! What kind of trouble are you going to get us into? Oh, Athena! That woman in the black pantsuit over there to your left! That’s more what you want for every day use. For instance, when I’m working in my carrel I wear the lightweight day uniform. If I know I’m going to be getting dirty, I wear a set of coveralls. If I were planning for one of the Captain’s feasts, I’d wear a gown or a cocktail dress, which reminds me that I need to buy one of each. If I’m going out hiking or don’t care what I look like, I’ll wear my favorite broken in jeans and a weather/terrain appropriate shirt. If I’m curled up in my stateroom reading, I’m usually in sweats. Does that make sense?”

  “It does,” Athena says after a few seconds of reconciliation.

  “If you two are finished,” Freddie says, “I believe that the establishment to our immediate front, the Beef and Beer, has a table waiting for us. Shall we indulge?”

  We spend two hours in the restaurant, enjoying the food, the beverages, the atmosphere and the people. They have a dance floor as well, and at 2100 local time a four-piece band starts up with some light jazz with the occasional foray into soulful blues. We spend another hour dancing with each other and the locals. Athena and I leave together to go buy some clothes. We are on our way back to collect Freddie, Shawna and Mitra to find an inn when our perComs trill the recall signal. It’s 2300. The accompanying message says the ship is due to depart in four hours. That's not much time at all for me, so we agree to hightail it back. En route, we receive detailed instructions: Shawna is to report to her Defense Boat, Freddie to the trooper training center, Mitra to the physics lab, Athena to the hospital and me to Engineering. Once we get to the ship, we all go our separate ways to staterooms, where we drop our purchases and put on our work clothes.

  I’m in my carrel when the Transit order finally comes. I take the short walk from my workspace to the control room. On Night Searcher I would have been wearing a helmet to preserve my hearing, but on Star Chaser there’s enough acoustic insulation between the drives and the engine control room that I need not do so, but it’s still pretty loud so I’m wearing a headset for communication.

  After I report a green board and smooth drive functioning I return to monitoring engine function. The bridge watch officer announces over the primary address system that the ship has engaged the Transit drive and will be underway for the next sixteen weeks. My head snaps up. Wait a minute, that’s a lot longer than I signed on for. I trust the Captain to know what he’s doing, but I’m going to take another look at my contract when I get back the opportunity. In the gods we trust; all others are subject to verification. Freddie calls me on my perCom: “Hey, Sonia, can Shawna and I get some private time with you in an out of earshot area?”

  “I don’t know where that might be, but there’s a butt load of background noise in my closet of an office, when should I expect you?”

  “Tonight after evening chow,” he says. We're back on ship time, so lunch is in about an hour. “Everyone usually hangs out to talk or bullshit in the lounge. Can you arrange the area be empty except for us?”

  He sounds unusually paranoid. “That shouldn’t be an issue,” I tell him. “People avoid this area because it’s loud. Duty calls, I’ll see you then. MacTaggert, out.”

  After chow, I wander back down to my engineering carrel and keep myself busy until Freddie and Shawna show up. Shawna gets there first. We engage in small talk until Freddie arrives. But once he’s there, it’s all business. He tells me that the ship is on a course for the Far Reaches. Apparently the final location for space station Star Chaser has changed. The trip will take a minimum of three years.

  “Three years?” I ask incredulously.

  Shawna adds, “You may remember Captain Pipper mentioning an eighteen month journey in his address. I crunched the numbers myself. The Far Reaches are an eighteen-month trip. One way.”

  “What the hell, do you think they intend to kill us all or something?” I ask them.

  “I don’t know,” Freddie says. “But that’s not the big issue, believe it or not. I can’t put my finger on it, but you remember how on Searcher under you,” he points at me, “and more so under Captain Prowse, the crew felt solid, unified? I don’t feel that here. And I don't think it's because this crew is ten times the size of that one.”

  Shawna pipes up, “I know what you mean. Sometimes I get a definite ‘us’ and ‘them’ mentality, almost like we’re expected to pick sides or something.”

  “Wait,” I hold up my hands. “Are the two of you trying to tell me, you think a mutiny is brewing?” I’m as fond of conspiracy theories as the next person, but I like them to remain theories. It's when they move into practice that I get uncomfortable.

  Freddie strokes his chin pensively. “That would help explain a few things.”

  Shawna adds, “I did overhear a conversation in which a crew chief of one of the bombers said he’d be glad when the Captain was out of the way.”

  “Not if,” Freddie finishes.

  It’s too much to believe, but I’m the only one of the three of us who will put a face on it. “So, we think someone is plotting to kill the Captain, but we have no tangible evidence, no time frame and no leads.”

  Freddie concludes for us, “Yep, the only way we can investigate it is to become mutineers. Sounds like fun.” I think he’s serious. He’s actually looking forward to this. It must be a guy thing, testosterone poisoning or some such.

  “So if we do this,” I say, “we don’t have the luxury of time. We’re going to have to do this quick, fast and in a hurry. Do either of you know any psionics?” They both shake their heads. “I’ll check with Master Kreq in our next class. I want to talk to him about the amulet Captain Prowse left me anyway. Now, my body clock says it’s late, I'm tired, my feet hurt and I want a shower. Add to the mix this conversation is making my head hurt so I’m going to bed. We’ll talk later.”

  After the next Shra Kuhn class, I hang around afterwards so I can talk to Master Kreq. A deep conversation was after all, his idea. I tell him the tale of Gwendolyn, my unintentional teleportations to and from the clone factory ship, as well as those within Night Searcher and all of the other things that happened with the amulet that Captain Prowse gave me. I pull the amulet from my gear bag and hold it out to him. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” I ask. “Do your senses reveal anything about it?”

  He takes the amulet from me, turning it over and looking at it from all sides. “Very interesting,” he says. “I have heard of individuals who had that ability, teleportation, but never an inanimate object. For that reason, I think it unlikely that the amulet gave you the ability to teleport. I suspect that it amplified the ability which had previously been dormant in you. Have you ever been tested for psionic ability?”

  “I haven’t,” I answer, “but I’m willing to be." I chew my bottom lip while mulling over how to breach the other subject.

  "I don't have to be psionic to tell there's something else on your mind," he says with a smile.

  Busted! "Master, I have a dilemma: I have heard a rumor I cannot verify that someone aboard may be in danger. I’ve no desire to spread baseless rumors or gossip, but I feel a duty to warn the person. Have you any advice?”

  “You mean a plot to kill the Captain, don’t you?” This man continues to surprise me. “I have had dreams and visions of that myself. I will speak with a friend of mine in the Security department tomorrow. If it helps, I was likewise conflicted, as I had no other source. I won't name you unless it becomes—in my opinion—absolutely necessary. Also, I will also schedule your appointment for psionic testing tomorrow, I believe tomorrow is your ‘down day?’” I confirm with a nod. The work rotation in Engineering is six days on, one off. Tomorrow
is my turn to sleep late. “Very well, I’ll forward the appointment details to you over the casCom.”

  “I…I don’t know what to say, I will see you tomorrow then.”

  The following morning, I wake to find an email from Master Kreq.

  Be in Building G, node 4 at 1000. Bring the amulet and wear loose fitting clothes or your gi.

  I know that building. It’s a small craft hangar bay for the maintenance facility. I put my gi in a bag, I’ll wear sweats but change if Master Kreq thinks it will be beneficial. Athena walks to the building with me.

  The door of the building opens into a square room, twenty feet to a side. A portion of which has been given over for storage. It’s a universal concept for ships in general and starships in particular: there’s never enough storage space. If I ever buy a shipyard I’ll change that. This one has tables stacked to one side, and several bags and bins holding recreational equipment such as bowling balls and pins, footballs, all manner of stuff. Master Kreq has placed some exercise mats on the floor. As Athena and I enter, he stops sweeping the dusty mats. He tosses his broom to one side and bows in greeting. I return the bow. Athena follows suit and bows as well.

  “Good morning, ladies. Sonia, I spoke with my friend and shared my concerns. His opinion is that on a vessel this size there are going to be complainers and malcontents. They actually have a list, albeit a short one, of crewmembers who may be upset enough to act on such impulses. Now, take a few moments to stretch and settle yourself. We will begin when you are ready.”

  “Very well, I brought my gi just in case you want me to change? Will we start with or without the amulet?”

  “As I said, make yourself comfortable. How you are dressed is fine. We will start without the amulet.”

  Accepting the rebuke, I hand my bag with the amulet to Athena. I take a few deep breaths and do some stretching before we begin testing. He invites me to sit or kneel. I elect to kneel for the moment. Master Kreq pulls a bowling pin from one of the bins. He places it on the floor a few feet in front of me.

  "Don't try to picture anything in particular about the pin. Open your eyes, this is an active exercise, not a passive one. Just open your mind to learning whatever the pin has to tell you."

  I try to cover my frustration with humor, “I guess the pin doesn’t want to tell me anything.”

  Kreq chuckles, “Perhaps. That surprises me, I’ve always considered you easy to talk to.” We both grin. He returns the pin to the bag and replaces it with a football. I look at it intently and for a split second, it looks like it shimmers a bit. And then it’s gone. Kreq looks to Athena, “What did you see?”

  “I saw you place the football on the floor. It then stopped being visible. I do not know what happened to it. Do you know where it went?” Her gaze oscillates between Master Kreq and me.

  I look at Kreq. I have no idea what happened or where it may have gone.

  “Not a clue,” Kreq answers her. He picks up his broom and waves it through the area where the ball had been. “I wanted to verify that you hadn’t made it invisible. Which you may have done, but either way: it’s not there anymore.”

  “So where is it?” I ask him.

  “Like I told Athena, I have no idea.” He looks at me pensively for a few heartbeats. “Shall we try with the amulet now?” I’m not sure how wise that is, but I trust him. I hold out my hand to Athena, she places the carrying strap for the bag in my palm. I take the amulet from the bag by its chain and place it around my neck. I hand the bag back to Athena. More or less on a whim, I whip my head around and look at one of the tables stacked adjacent to the door. It starts to shimmer like the ball did. Then it’s gone.

  However, suddenly it’s in the air and falling to the deck. In the blink of my eye, it went from the top of that stack to a spot four feet to the side. And finding nothing beneath to support it, fell to the floor. “I believe we have identified your gift, Sonia. You have the ability to teleport objects and probably yourself. Your history indicates this, and the events we’ve seen here today, confirm it. But your ability is like a sword fresh from the artisan. You must be sharpened, tempered, and polished. As is, you are more of a liability than you are an asset.” And we still don’t know where the ball is.

  “My ‘gift’ is teleportation? Wow. It’s odd to me that you use a sword as your metaphor. I was thinking ‘whip knife,’ wielded by a skilled handler it’s a devastating weapon indeed, but used improperly it does more damage to the wielder than the target.”

  “A very apt description,” he says clapping his hands together. “Today’s exercise is now concluded. It’s your down day, but not mine. I must be going. I will see you in class.”

  I look at the clock in my perCom, it’s not even lunchtime yet, but I feel like I’ve just finished a double shift. Athena and I return to my stateroom so I can take a nap. I open the casCom and send a message to Roy:

  Have you seen or heard anything from DuQuois?

  It’s not that I need or want anything from her, but I just feel happier knowing I haven’t been abandoned. I lie down for a nap.

  Two hours later, I wake. Checking my mail I see a response from Roy.

  Yep, but she’s purring instead of growling. It’s a mystery to me. By the way, I have some of those archived reports you asked about, they’re at Central. Come get them.

  “Central” is the Central Engineering Office, I have to meet with my counterparts there in an hour anyway. It is my down day, but this is one of those meetings that can't be missed. And it’s typically only an hour.

  The other engineers and I are sitting around discussing our needs and wants as well as our hopes and fears when DuQuois breezes into the room. We’re all bracing for Hurricane Loreena when the greatest surprise of the cruise happens. Her face is not only glowing, but it has twisted into a smile. “Ah, here you all are!” she says. “Isn’t this a lovely day? Miss MacTaggert—Sonia—you are doing such a marvelous job! Keep up the good work and I’ll see what I can do about getting you a raise,” her gaze goes from me to the rest of the engineers in the room. “You’re all doing well, keep it up, as long as I’m fishing for one raise I can fish for more. Have a fantastic day, all!” And she’s gone.

  A full minute passes before anyone speaks. It’s Roy, “What in the nine hells just happened?”

  Hal Buckles, the assistant Transit boss from Area B asks, “Should we report that? Should we start keeping tranq guns near by?”

  Ned Breedly, the Transit Engineer from Area D, chimes in. “Or wearing them as sidearms. I was beginning to suspect I was dreaming, or hallucinating. Sonia, is there anything you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” All eyes turn to me.

  “I am at a loss,” I respond. “I don't think I've seen her a dozen times on the entire cruise. And she’s been mean and nasty to me every time. This is a statistical outlier for me. But I have an idea. I’ll investigate and get back to you. Now, where were we?” The meeting finishes rather quickly as we all have trouble focusing given what we’ve seen. We break up and go about our business. Back in my stateroom, I open my holoCom and type out a message to Shawna,

  Do I have you to thank for my boss’s vastly improved mood? If so, thank you very much and if I’m ever upset I may need to see you for the same therapy.

  I can’t help but chuckle as I press the send button. Her reply is almost instantaneous.

  Yes I am. You are welcome and you owe me big time. She is one twisted individual. I think she broke one of my lady petals. HKADTM.

  Hugs, Kisses and Deep Tissue Massage, only Shawna would close a message with a signature like that. I have another message, this one from Master Kreq.

  I have some spare time, are you free to meet me in the dojo in an hour?

  I’ll be there. I reply, I have enough time to swing through the snack bar for a little something to tide me over as I don't really have time for lunch.

  When I get to the dojo, I realize I probably would have been better suited to beg time for chow today. The
Master is not waiting for me alone. Several of the senior students are here as well. “First,” he says as an introduction, “we must perfect your physical conditioning. Your classmates will assist me.” The first leads me through Conditioning Drill Number One—straight from the Trooper’s Manual of Physical Conditioning. To complete it properly and thoroughly takes an hour. And by the time Master Kreq signals completion, we have been very thorough. After that, I’m allowed a ten-minute rest period. The next student reviews one-hand blocks with me. First I defend against strikes from the hands and feet. Then we move to combinations of two strikes. Then one strike and one kick. Then three attacks of any combination, then four. This takes another hour. Behind this drill I get a five-minute break and a bottle of water. The next student reviews strikes and kicks, and like the previous block of instruction, it segues into combinations. Another ten-minute break before the next senior student and I practice “blending,” she attacks and I move into but adjacent to it into a position of advantage, usually to her side or behind her. And when I don’t blend well, she lets me know I didn’t with a smack on whichever target I left her. This session doesn’t involve as much contact—thankfully—as the others except for when I goof up. But even so, at Master Kreq’s signal we stop and I am wringing wet with sweat. I’ve gone straight past “glowing” and “perspiring” to “sweating,” and I couldn’t care less. “Fifteen minutes preparation time,” Kreq says.

  There’s more? All I want right now is a shower and a bed! The first student is passing out the sparring gear. Here’s my way out! “Master Kreq, you didn’t mention sparring, I didn’t bring my mouth protector!”

  However, the female student “rescues” me, “Hear that, all? No strikes to the face.” She hands me the gloves and boots.