Had she left a lover? A husband? A, God forbid, child?
“My parents,” she said. “They are - were - in their seventies. Still very much full of life.” She stopped then because the words were too painful. Then she sucked in a breath and looked into the distance, eyes unfocused. “Cousins and the like. Friends. Good friends.”
Possibly a lover, then.
I grimaced.
“And you, Noah? Who did you leave behind?”
“A sister.” My throat constricted and I couldn’t say another word to save my life.
Camille looked at me and offered an understanding smile. It was our past. One we wouldn’t forget. But one we had to leave behind.
“What happens now?” she whispered.
I couldn’t look away from her. I couldn’t stop trying to absorb every little detail I could find. Her face; so beautiful, so finely made as if by the divine. Her hair; coming loose from her clip and begging to be touched, to be stroked, to be tucked behind her ear while I basked in her light. Her eyes; so full of emotion and fire and life.
Good God, I wanted this woman. Damn Vela and his paranoia. Damn the cell containment field. Damn the universe right now.
“We keep fighting,” I said. “We keep trying to convince Vela that Pavo is no threat and we need to stick together. Two AIs to calculate the jump points have to better than one, don’t they?”
“If you say so,” Camille said with a small smile.
“If only we knew what Pavo was whispering, then maybe we could offer Vela an alternate perspective. He’s blinded by his directive; a directive he isn’t certain is originating code. For all we know, it’s the bastardisation of an Anderson Universal command, brought about by the solar flare that took out his vessel.”
“I’d say that’s highly likely. I can see no other explanation from an engineering point of view.”
And I’d take Camille Rey’s engineering hypotheses over Vela’s wild guesses any day.
“He’s malfunctioning,” I said. “But so is Pavo. And as far as I’m aware, Jameson is working with his onboard AI. Despite the malfunction, they must have come to some agreement. One Jameson trusts.”
That scared and thrilled me because it meant there was hope. Even if right now, sitting on the gel floor outside Camille’s cell, hope seemed a distant fantasy.
“Would Jameson have foregone the lease agreement?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I doubt it, but even if he had, he’s an honourable man. Extremely so. I can’t imagine that he’d run a lawless ship. So, if he’s working with Pavo, he’d be working with him within certain Anderson Universal protocol requirements.”
“And Pavo is clearly fine with this.”
“I assume so. But how can we tell? We can’t communicate with Pavo or Jameson.”
I thumped my hand down on the gel floor in frustration. Only to have the gel floor warp and reshape itself, so my hand didn’t hurt with the effort expended. I stared down at the floor, which had reconfigured itself, and then looked up sharply at Camille. She was sitting forward, eyes on my still clenched fist.
Slowly, she raised her eyes to look directly at me.
I arched a brow and said, “It all boils down to whether Vela can accept our help and acknowledge his limitations.”
“And realise,” Camille added, “that we’re all in this together and we all want the same thing. Humanity’s survival.”
I held my breath. Camille was breathing quickly.
Then the containment field fell, and the walls and floor and ceiling in the brig pulsed green.
Green meant good.
Vela was back, and he’d given Camille a pardon.
Thirty-Nine
My Thoughts Exactly
Camille
“Comms is back up, Captain,” Lieutenant Johnson said as soon as we entered the bridge.
I received several relieved smiles at my presence beside the captain. Who received several appreciative smiles from the female crew members and several reverent smiles from the males. Clearly, they thought my release from the brig was due to Captain Vaughan and now he claimed hero status.
I snorted softly to myself and took my position at the engineering console. MacBride acknowledged my biometric sign-in with a thumbs-up emoji on the screen; sent from engineering itself.
For a moment, I just basked in the feeling of membership that I had to this exclusive club of ours. These officers were my family now.
Noah stopped beside his command chair but didn’t sit down. His hands were firmly placed on his hips as he stared at Pavo on the main viewscreen. He made a striking figure. All eyes, female and male, were on him. Waiting for his instructions.
I couldn’t look away to save myself.
“Are we doing this, Vela?” he finally asked.
“This is the will of the many, Captain.”
“It is,” Noah agreed.
“I still do not trust him.” Pavo. The AI meant Pavo and the whispers he kept hearing.
“Well, let’s see how accommodating they are, then,” Noah replied. “Hail Pavo, Lieutenant Johnson.”
“Aye-aye, sir. Channel open. Pavo has replied.”
“Captain Jameson,” Noah said, looking at the image that had appeared on the main viewscreen of the captain of the Anderson Universal lead vessel Pavo. “It’s good to see you again. But I admit, a bit of a surprise.”
“It’s good to see you’re still standing, Captain Vaughan,” Jameson replied. “We were a little worried there for a while. The message from your Commander Rey was alarming and cryptic.”
Several pairs of eyes looked at me, but Noah kept his firmly on the viewscreen.
“Captain,” Vela said in warning. Jameson didn’t respond to Vela’s voice, so I could only assume the AI had isolated his channel from them. “Pavo is still whispering.”
“Can Jameson see and hear me, Vela?” Noah asked.
“Negative. I have sent a request to standby.”
Noah looked at Johnson who confirmed that Vela had stepped in.
“OK, Vela,” Noah announced. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. But you have to trust me.”
“Trust is earned, is it not, Captain?”
“Yes. Have I not earned yours yet?” Noah sounded upbeat; his voice teasing. I doubted the captain felt that at ease right now. He was very good at playing the part that needed to be played. And right now, Vela needed to see our captain relaxed and at ease.
“I believe you have,” Vela replied. The relief I felt at that was unparalleled. “The channel is open again.”
“Thank you,” Noah murmured and returned his attention to the viewscreen.
“Everything all right, Captain?” Jameson asked.
“No,” Noah said succinctly. “We have a slight problem that I’m going to need your assistance with.”
“That’s why we’re here; to help.”
“Good, then can you tell Pavo to stop communicating with our fleet.”
Silence. Jameson didn’t look surprised at the request, nor did he look guilty. He kept a neutral expression on his face and said nothing.
“The whispers have stopped,” Vela announced.
Noah let out a soft breath.
“Can you tell me what Pavo was trying to do?” he asked Captain Jameson.
“Your fleet was alarmed, Captain,” a male voice said over the comm. It didn’t sound like Vela’s voice, but it was close. If I had to describe it, I’d say it was halfway between synthetic and human. It was strange. As if the AI had become more human than computer. It gave me chills, but didn’t surprise Jameson at all; he didn’t even blink.
“Pavo?” Noah queried.
“Yes, Captain. Greetings.”
Our gel walls pulsed a dull red. Not alert red, but an expression of Vela’s disquiet.
“It’s all right,” I said softly. “We’ve got your back.”
The walls stopped pulsing red. Noah looked over his shoulder at me and smiled. Then his eyes were back on the viewscre
en again.
“Hello, Pavo,” Noah said. “Vela doesn’t like you whispering to his fleet.”
I had to smile at the direct approach Noah was taking. But sometimes these things required less finesse and more bluntness.
“I will not…whisper again,” Pavo said.
Well, that was easy.
“But you should be aware,” the AI added, “your fleet is anxious, and several have powered up their main boost thrust engines in order to continue their voyage.”
Noah raised his hand with a cutting motion. Johnson leapt forward and hit a button on his screen.
“Channel closed, sir.”
“Thank you,” Noah said. “What do you make of that?” His eyes were on me, but the question was for the entire flight deck. I shook my head. “Is he telling the truth, Vela?” Noah asked.
“Yes.”
“Were you aware of this?”
“Yes.”
“And what had you planned?”
“I have gained access to five of the Sector One vessels’ main boost thrust engines and am attempting to access the last one at present. They will not go anywhere without me.”
I arched my brow at Noah. He didn’t look quite so sanguine now.
“I see. Was Pavo trying to stop you?”
“I do not know. I could not hear his whispers distinctly.”
Was that on purpose? Was Pavo working for or against us?
Noah looked down at the floor briefly and then glanced at the communications station.
“Open the channel again, Johnson.”
“Yes, sir. Channel open. Pavo standing by.”
“You keep cutting out on us, Captain,” Jameson said. “Is everything all right?”
Noah took a step toward the viewscreen.
“Let’s be honest with each other, shall we, John?” Jameson nodded his head, his features settling into a serious mien. “Vela is…not quite himself.”
“I understand what that’s like,” Jameson offered carefully.
“But on this,” Noah went on, “I happen to agree with his view of things.”
The walls pulsed a soothing green. He was like a child, I realised; wanting recognition and praise for his actions. I had the impression Vela looked to Noah as a father figure. Someone he desperately wanted to trust but also please.
It was a lot of responsibility. And with Vela the way he currently was - temperamental and paranoid - it was also a dangerous position to be in.
I sucked in a breath of air; this made me nervous and worried. For Noah especially.
“Oh,” Jameson said. “And what view is that?”
“The Sector One Fleet is under our protection,” Noah announced. “Pavo has no right to interfere.”
“He was trying to help.”
“Please don’t. Your help isn’t helping.”
Jameson stared at Noah, while Noah stared back. A silent conversation of sorts transpired between them.
“Pavo,” Jameson eventually said. “Please don’t contact any of the Sector One Fleet vessels again.”
“Understood, Captain,” Pavo said in his expressive robotic voice.
Noah let out a breath and said, “Is that acceptable, Vela?”
The walls stayed green, but Vela didn’t say anything for several long seconds.
Then, “I have control of all the Sector One Fleet vessels’ engines, Captain. I am happy.”
Noah’s eyes widened slightly. Jameson just chuckled.
“Welcome to the age of excitable artificial intelligence, Noah,” he said. “From my experience, once they start feeling, things become a lot more interesting.”
More interesting? I stifled a moan. Noah looked beleaguered.
“I think we need to share notes,” Noah said finally.
“My thoughts exactly,” Captain Jameson replied, laughing.
Forty
Tell Me More
Noah
“I am trying, Captain,” Vela said. But his gel walls kept pulsing red.
We were standing outside Airlock Alpha-01 on Deck B waiting for Pavo to dock.
“Try harder,” I said through gritted teeth. “We want to make a good impression.”
“A good impression? Why?”
I ran a hand over my face and shifted on my feet. Inviting Captain Jameson onboard was a huge risk. Not merely the physical risk to the Chariot from docking with another vessel; something we’d only ever simulated before. But a psychological risk. To Vela. Hell, if I was honest, to me. I hadn’t met Jameson before, but I’d been on countless teleconferences with him and the other AU captains back on Earth. I knew how the man operated in a meeting. I’d studied his tactics in command.
But this was an Anderson Universal vessel and an Anderson Universal captain.
Camille’s hand came down on my arm and squeezed lightly. She’d removed it again before I had a chance to snatch it up and grasp it like a lifeline.
“It’ll be all right,” she said steadily. “But Vela, the less we show our emotions, the harder it is for anyone to take advantage of us.”
I wasn’t sure if that message had just been for the AI. I smiled self-deprecatingly.
Camille grinned back at me.
“You think Captain Jameson would take advantage of us, Commander?”
Camille’s grin disappeared.
“In all honesty, Vela, I don’t,” she said, weighing her words carefully. “But I make a habit of presenting my best side to a new acquaintance, just in case I’ve misjudged their intentions.”
“Is that what you did when we first met, Chief?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“I rather liked your best side,” I said. “And I really like your dirty side,” I added quietly.
Camille glanced back over her shoulder at the security detail standing farther down the hall. They wouldn’t have overheard, but Vela would have.
The AI, thankfully, didn’t comment.
Camille’s eyes landed back on me.
“And this is your best side, Captain?” she asked archly.
“You do bring out the best in me, Chief,” I offered, just as a loud clunk could be heard through the bulkhead.
“Pavo has docked,” Vela announced. “Sealing connection. Connection sealed. Decompression started.”
The walls, I noted, had stopped pulsing red. They were a soft blue now, not exactly soothing green, but close enough. The AI was trying.
“Very good, Vela,” I offered, and bemusedly noted the walls lightened further. “Everyone ready?” I asked, no one in particular.
Camille tapped the plasma gun on her hip and smiled, showing teeth.
“Ready and eager,” she replied.
I couldn’t stop staring at her. Enraptured all over again. I’d thought Camille Rey wielding a wrench and a datapad was captivating. But Camille Rey standing at my side, facing a potential threat, wearing a plasma pistol on her very curvaceous hips was stunning.
I cleared my throat when the hatch panel flashed readiness, and the lock began to turn.
“Decompression complete,” Vela announced unnecessarily. Maybe he needed something to do, too, or else he’d start to fidget like I’d been.
I stilled my movements and stood at parade rest. I was aware my officers were also mimicking me. The lock slowly unwound, and then a hiss could be heard as the seal was broken. The door swung open and on the other side of it stood Captain John Jameson and the woman he’d identified in an earlier communiqué as his second in command. A Commander Kereama, I believed.
“Welcome aboard the Chariot,” I said in greeting.
Jameson stepped through the door with his hand outstretched.
“Captain Vaughan,” he said, shaking my hand firmly. “It’s a pleasure to be aboard.” He turned to his 2IC. “This is Commander Ana Kereama.” There was something in his voice. It took me a moment to identify it as a softening. “My expert in all things Pavo,” he explained.
“Good afternoon, Captain Jameson,” the woman said, shaki
ng my hand. Her grip was as firm as Jameson’s had been. I instantly knew this woman had been a soldier.
“Welcome aboard, Commander.” I indicated Camille. “This is Commander Camille Rey, Chief of Engineering onboard the Chariot.” And the woman I trust with everything.
I wondered briefly, as Jameson smiled knowingly, whether that silent thought had been conveyed in my tone of voice, too.
“This is an unexpected experience,” Jameson said. “Who would have thought we would have met before reaching New Earth?”
“Certainly not me,” I agreed. “Shall we?” I motioned down the hallway, and we began to walk. This needed to happen in my ready room and not in a public access way to the officers’ mess and bar.
Why the main docking hatch was on the same deck as the gym and mess was a mystery. But it was also on the same deck as the medbay and officers’ quarters. Both of those I could see us needing. Reinforcements within shouting distance.
We made silent and swift work reaching my ready room, and as the doors slid shut behind me, I felt a sense of ease steal over my body. This was my domain. Completely.
“Please, have a seat,” I said.
Commander Kereama sat, as did Camille, but Jameson looked around the room and then approached a shelf with knickknacks on it. Mementoes of a lost life and world.
“You know,” he said, picking up a small Matchbox London bus and turning it around to study, “we’re not so dissimilar, are we? My ready room is decorated much the same as this.”
“With a double-decker bus?” I enquired.
He laughed. I got the impression Jameson laughed frequently.
“No, but I do have Skippy.”
“Skippy?” Camille asked.
He turned and smiled at my chief. A flare of jealousy rushed through me when he winked.
“The bush kangaroo,” he offered.
“Oh,” Camille replied, clearly lost for words right then.
“I suppose you have the Eiffel Tower?” Jameson asked.
“On my wall,” Camille offered. “Lately, Vela has taken to depicting it at dawn.”
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