by Aaron Crocco
"I really need to get used to these cargo bays," he said aloud, the sound fading into the eerie silence of the room.
The cargo scanner beeped, nearly causing Ken to jump out of his skin. He pinched the top of his nose, and through a shaky smile, he took a breath to calm down. Then he realized he hadn't engaged the scanner again. It beeped from another scan, one he hadn’t initiated. Worse, it hadn't been aimed at any of the containers. Ken stared at the display.
Contaminant Detected.
He frowned. A virus out in deep space was impossible. He'd personally ran a full cleaning of the ship after the Raven was sealed for flight at Bridger. He tapped the display, but the message remained. Hubbard would want to know once Watts was stabilized. Ken pocketed the scanner, turned toward the door and froze. Hovering six feet in the air above was a hazy cloud of purple vapor. It swirled and danced for at least ten seconds. Ken watched it, mesmerized, until it condensed into a small, concentrated orb and shot through the wall. The purple mist of the orb's wake hung in the air and then dissipated a moment later.
Heidi Watts blinked a few times to clear the blinding light of the summer sky away. Buildings and people formed around her as the sounds of a bustling city grew louder. It was a minute before Watts realized she was on a sidewalk. The occupied pedestrians couldn't be bothered to check the condition of the random girl strung along the ground. She climbed to her feet, avoiding the oblivious people trying to walk through her. Only by moving against the wall of a building was she able to avoid the sea of foot traffic.
A comforting breeze blew against her arms, exposed from the short sleeved shirt she had on. The wind scooped up a bunch of dirt and Watts watched as the breeze carried the debris carried to a small park across the street. She followed it, if only to get away from the throng of people suffocating her personal space. Oddly enough, this side of the street was empty. She took a seat on a wooden bench, its green paint chipped and faded from weathering.
Watts smiled at the familiar scents and noises of the city. It was Caff. It was home, the only home she had known before heading off planet, before serving on ships.
Before the Raven.
Wait. How could she be on Caff? Watts frowned.
She looked down to see normal street clothes. Her jeans and boutique shirt definitely didn't fit the bill for her normal ship attire.
She buried her face in her hands. "This makes no sense." She tried to wipe the city away from her eyes, but Caff was as real as... the Raven.
Before she collapsed.
Could Hubbard have dropped her off back at Caff to be cared for? No. She didn't have family on the planet. After the incident with her ex-boyfriend Gavin, all Watts wanted to do was get away. Once the hospital discharged her, it was only one transport stop to the service center. Two signed forms and a thumbprint scan later and Heidi Watts had been assigned to FTL Monitoring Station 22. A mere two hours passed between stepping out of the hospital to being strapped into a seat as her shuttle left the atmosphere. It was summer then as well.
She couldn't explain how or why she was on Caff. She thought back and remembered how the Raven's bridge felt off-balance while Ken and the captain were speaking, like the floor was tilting. She recalled starting to fall, but then the she awoke to the clear, Caff sky. How long could she have been out?
An electronic horn squealed, grabbing her attention. A transport stopped in the middle of the street. The driver was leaning on the horn as a couple stood in traffic. They were arguing. The man made a rude gesture to the driver and pulled the woman onto Watts's side of the street. The transport sped off, and the traffic zipped by once more.
Watts chuckled. Only on Caff. It was the only place she'd heard such a distinctive transport horn. It was unique.
She continued to watch them argue down the sidewalk when a shot of cold rushed through her body. The horn. That horn. The traffic. The couple. It had happened before. The memory flooded her mind, and she was on her feet in seconds. Watts moved away from the bench, taking position behind a tree that was closer to the couple. It took only a single glance to identify the arguing pair. It was Gavin and herself, from six years ago. That was before she was Watts. That was when she was just Heidi.
The ground pulled at Watts, with all it had beckoning her to fall and rest, but the force nearly overtook her as she kept her eyes trained on her ex-boyfriend. His outfit made her shiver: a white t-shirt covered by a blue blazer, and jeans . She gripped the tree to keep upright and made a conscious effort to breathe. Her body couldn't give out. Not now.
Gavin's temper was about to boil over for the final time. The scene between him and her past self was beyond deja vu. It flowed in perfect time to her memory. Her young counterpart widened the distance between them.
Gavin yelled something inaudible, but Watts knew he was reasoning with her to get back together. Heidi wasn't having any of it, as she slapped his hands away each time he reached out. She shoved a finger into his face.
"Keep the hell away from me," Heidi shouted.
Watts mouthed the words in perfect time with her other self.
"Here we go," Watts whispered. This was the moment where everything changed.
Gavin spun, his movement fluid and precise as the blazer whipped up from behind. With a single motion he closed the gap, grabbed her hand, and twisted the young girl’s arm. In less than a second she was on the ground, crying out in pain. Watts looked to her right, waiting for the patrol car. Inside would be Officer Ting, the cop who'd ended the confrontation, arrested Gavin, and got her out of there. Young Heidi yelped and Watts thought her heart might rip through her chest and clothes if she had to watch much longer.
Gavin yelled, "You're coming back with me, Heidi!"
Another scream, this time louder. He was pushing her arm to its breaking point.
"Come on, Ting!" Watts groaned, searching the streets. She thought he'd arrived faster last time.
"No! Please, don't!" Heidi cried.
Watts turned back in time to see Gavin release the grip. He lifted his leg and slammed it straight down into the small of Heidi’s back. The girl's body slammed into the concrete, limbs bouncing off the ground from the impact.
Watts winced.
A purple haze of dust rose up around the fallen girl. The small cloud surrounded the pair for a moment before dissipating.
"This didn't happen," she whispered.
Gavin pulled an arm back and launched a rocketing fist into the back of her head. Heidi cried out from the blow. Another punch knocked her into silence. A third strike fell.
Watts looked down the block and saw no sign of Ting and his cruiser. This was beyond wrong. Even with Gavin battering Heidi, the river of people across the street continued to on as if nothing happened outside of their personal communicators. Watts glanced down the block once more. Anger coursed through every fiber with each second that passed with no police.
Gavin threw another punch at her skull. She'd lost count by this point. Watts's auto-pilot engaged. In seconds she hurdled down the grass toward Gavin, the pummeling continued as she closed the gap. A few steps closer and she was able to make out the blood splattering Heidi's clothes. Watts balled her hands into fists, and launched herself into Gavin. Her fists flew, cutting the air like knives on a full collision course with her ex-boyfriend.
But she flew straight through him, slamming into the ground with the full force meant for him. Her organs shook as if an earthquake ran through her body. She'd gone right through him like he was an illusion or hologram. His attack on her counterpart didn't let up. Watts shook off the shock of the rough landing and headed toward Gavin once more. No jumps this time, just fists. Again her fists moved through him as if he wasn’t even there. He didn't even acknowledge her.
Before she could make sense of what was happening, pain stabbed through her back and climbed to her head before spreading through the rest of her body. The pain pulsed in sync to the punches Gavin threw at Heidi. Blow for blow, Watts bore the pain of the beati
ng as much as her other self. The searing pain overtook all thought, and her head swam in an echo of ringing. Seconds later a vice grip clenched her skull, yanking her soul out from her body.
Where was Ting?
Ken Mallory was back on the bridge entering small corrections into the autopilot system. Hubard had been right. The Raven would've taken them days off course from reaching Cogan. The Galeen system had few stations to recharge, and had they continued on their current course without updates, power reserves would have fallen close to zero. It took four calculations to complete the course correction, and all the while, Ken cursed Hubbard for skipping the vital maintenance to the ship.
"How could you be so stupid, Hubs," he groaned to the empty bridge.
Aurora class ships needed more care than the larger vessels when it came to the navigation equipment. Without an FTL drive, course issues could be the difference between getting the job completed on time or being lost in deep space for months with no food, power, or air. Ken never knew the extent of the captain's debts, but to skimp on navigation maintenance was a sure sign he was in trouble.
Ken entered the updates into the console, and he could feel the Raven shift in compensation. They'd only lost an hour in the trip, so Cogan was still just 53-days away. The door opened, and Hubbard stepped onto the bridge. Ken knew right away it wasn't good.
"What's happened?" he asked the captain.
Hubbard stood just inside the door not saying a word. The distant hum of the Raven's engines filled the bridge with empty silence. With each pulse of the rhythmic propulsion the worst of Ken's thoughts took shape.
"Oh god," he whispered.
Hubbard deflated. "I'm sorry, Mr. Mallory."
The sorrow multiplied within his chest and a lump grew in Ken's throat. He pulled back the tears starting to well up around his eyes.
"But... But how? She was fine just a few hours ago, Hubs."
"I know. It doesn't make any sense to me either." Hubbard approached and placed a hand on Ken's shoulder.
Flashes of the time Watts had been on the Raven crossed Ken's blurred field of vision. The memories of her coming aboard wide-eyed, the Raven being her first Augusta class ship. Time spent chatting over meals while Hubbard piloted from the bridge felt distant, like days long past. Ken cherished those times, yet found the memories blurred. They were hard to visualize. He sighed knowing Lindsey would never meet her kindred spirit. The gentle squeeze of Hubbard's hand still on his shoulder brought Ken's attention back to the silent bridge.
"You want to do it or should I?" Hubbard asked.
Ken took a breath and felt the lump in his throat was already subsiding. The question was one he hadn't expected. Logging the loss of a crew member always fell to the commanding officer. The captain obviously knew of the bond they'd formed and it was a task rarely offered to others. Ken looked up at Hubbard.
"You should do it. You're the captain. You had the honor of bringing her on board."
"Are you sure, Mr. Mallory? You two were certainly closer than her and I."
Ken nodded. "Yeah. Log it."
Hubbard took a seat and pulled up the Raven's manifest. Ken's eyes floated back out to the endless space on the other side of the glass. Was Watts's soul out there somewhere just floating around the Galeen system for all time? Perhaps she'd be back on Caff in whatever afterlife was the belief on that planet.
"Hmmm," Hubbard let out.
Ken collected his thoughts and returned to the task at hand.
He should watch out of respect for Heidi.
The record update process was normally quick. Select a crew member, update their status, confirm it with the central database, and the record was updated to every ship currently in service. Heidi Watts would be just another name added to the daily log sent to all ships at the 00:00 day change. She would join the other unfortunate people to lose their life that day.
"Well, this isn't right,” the captain said.
"What is it, Hubs?"
"Look at this." He pointed at the screen.
Ken frowned. "Um, I don't see anything wrong here, Captain."
"Look at the record, Ken."
Ken examined the screen, but only saw the same deceased note next to her name. "It looks fine."
"No. It isn't fine." Hubbard almost spit the words. "This is wrong. Very, very wrong."
"You're gonna need to spell this out for me, Hubs," Ken sighed. "She's dead. The record shows she's dead. There isn't much else--"
"I didn't enter the update yet," Hubbard interrupted.
Ken's heart skipped a beat. Thoughts worked to form into words, but nothing made it to his mouth.
Ken pointed at Watt’s information. “Her record. The one that says she’s dead. You didn’t just make that update?"
"Yes, Ken. Her record. It's already updated. Here's the kicker. Check the date."
Ken focused in on the small line of information on Watts's record. Deceased: June 13, 2399.
Six years ago.
Ken engaged the communications terminal for a second time. His hands shook at a frantic pace.
"Mayday, mayday. This is Ken Mallory aboard the Raven. We have an emergency situation on board. If anyone can hear this, please respond."
The anxiety-ridden words stumbled out of Ken's mouth and he was grateful they formed a coherent sentence. The Raven gave no indication of a response from any ships, not that there were any flying close enough to receive the transmission. Ken slumped in his chair and let out a long sigh. It was no use. Their non-standard flightpath meant they were alone until they got within a few hundred kilometers of Cogan. He glanced at the captain, still unconscious on the deck floor.
He had to keep trying.
"Mayday, mayday. This is Ken Mallory aboard the Raven. We have an emergency situation on board. If anyone can hear this, please respond."
Ken repeated the sequence a forth, fifth, sixth time. The silence was deafening.
"Damnit!" he screamed and punched the console. A clang rang out and echoed down the Raven's main corridor, followed a few seconds later by the low murmurs of Ken Mallory's sobs.
A loud clang startled Bill Hubbard awake and he shot up from the floor. The rush of blood to his head dizzied him, and he placed a hand out to brace against a wall. His balance stabilized and the swimming within his mind subsided after a moment. The normal silence he'd expected to hear from the Raven was drowned by blaring alerts. Hubbard raised his head and focused on his surroundings.
Dim yellow lights colored every inch of the wide hall. A steady stream of uniformed crew jetted past, ignoring the disoriented man. They all ran with a determination he'd seen only a few times before: life-threatening emergencies. Hubbard caught a glimpse of the deep green uniforms with navy sleeves and white belts. He furrowed his brow as three years of memories surfaced at the sight of the outfits.
"I’m on the Oceania," he said automatically.
It made no sense. The Albany class ship had been decommissioned long ago, yet here he stood on the C deck of the first ship he'd served on. He tapped the metal wall plating, even getting close enough to sniff it. Stale. Musty. . It was the Oceania, the only ship he'd known to emit such a nasty smell, but not just on any day. The alerts indicated a fire in the Engineering section of the ship and the running crew had been heading in that direction. Hubbard thought back to that day and knew they'd need all the help possible.
Like visiting a childhood town, Hubbard navigated the Oceania decks with ease. He'd only taken one wrong turn on D deck, hitting a dead end steps away from where he'd made the error. The ship's rectangular layout had always confused rookies as only A and D deck wrapped around the entire ship. The remaining four decks each stopped at various spots along the way, prompting detours and forcing one to double-back.
He heard loud voices shouting and orders being given over the chaotic noise of Engineering. Hubbard stepped through the open door and watched a team work a suppressant hose as six others worked the consoles to shut down each system bef
ore the ship sustained more internal damage. The black flexible hoses shot a steady stream of nannites at the flames. Each minuscule robot was designed to engulf the flames in millions of tiny vacuum pockets, suffocating the fire. The technology was safe for humans to breathe, didn't damage any systems that got hit with the stream, and it was a dry solution.
"Team three!" a man shouted into Hubbard's ear.
An unfamiliar commanding officer pointed toward a third hose being set up. Years of instinct kicked in and complied instantly. He took up position in front of the anchor crewman and the hose sprung to life, ferociously bucking under the pressure. Hubbard held tight, then turned back to the other teams on hose detail. It took just one passing glance to spot a young William Hubbard bravely standing at the front of the line. His face was chiseled stone, determined to direct the nannites properly so the flames would go out.
"Team two!" the commanding officer screamed to the other group. "Aim at the base of the flames!"
The team slowly directed the stream lower. Just as the nannites reached the heart of the fire, a console to Hubbard's right exploded. The shock threw him to the ground, ears ringing. He could feel the metal grating on the floor pressing sharply into his forehead. He placed a hand up and his fingers felt warm and tacky.
"Hubs!" he heard over the ringing.
Hubbard opened his eyes and saw Ken standing over him. It was all gone. The hoses, the alarms, even the musty scent all returned back to obscurity. The rhythmic soothing of the Raven's engines brought a swell of relief.
Ken helped Hubbard up and into the same seat he'd been in when he passed out. He'd just finished yet another distress call when the captain sprung to life, like waking from a dream where one was falling.
"Oh, god I thought you were a goner." Ken breathed a sigh of relief.