by S Breaker
“Dek, do you have her?”
Dek tapped the communicator attached to his earlobe. “That’s an affirmative, Commander,” he replied.
He motioned with his hand as he led the way to the automatic door that slid open. “Listen, why don’t I walk you to your quarters to get cleaned up first?” he offered Laney. “Then we can all debrief on the bridge.”
“What?” Laney’s expression was panicked disbelief. “We don’t have time for that. We have to find Noah now!” She bolted out the door, making it down the narrow corridor and around the corner before even realizing she had no idea where she was going.
She stopped short, gasping heavily. “Oh shit.” She threw up her hands as she looked around the empty, dimly lit passageway.
She wanted to kick herself for being so rash, but having spent most of the last few days running away from mortal threats, it had become automatic, almost like an impulse.
She stepped tentatively to the left before stopping again, already confused. “How the hell do I get to the bridge?” she mumbled, almost under her breath.
“Take the next left and the upward hatch D-7 to get to the bridge.”
“Whoa!” Laney jumped.
It was that odd but vaguely-familiar female voice again, except Laney couldn’t see anyone else around who may have spoken. It was as though the voice was coming from everywhere.
Laney’s mouth hung slightly open. “Am I…hallucinating right now?”
“Please restate your question.”
She blinked in recognition. Oh! Then she asked again if only to try once more, “Computer, how do I get to the bridge?”
“Take the next left and the upward hatch D-7 to get to the bridge.”
Laney grinned. “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
She almost chuckled to herself in relief before whirling around to follow the computer’s directions, her footsteps echoing loud thuds on the floor as she ran down the corridor.
Dek turned to look the moment Laney appeared at the top of the stairs. “There she is,” was all he said with an amused tone of voice.
Laney’s eyes widened as she stepped through the doorway leading to the bridge.
It was smaller than what Star Trek would have you believe, with control panels covering most of the walls, screens, switches, and boards with rows and rows of different-colored little status lights.
There were two vacant seats mounted on the wall behind her and another guy wearing the same jumpsuit uniform as Dek, sitting before what looked like a podium with a control panel to the right, who merely gave her a disinterested glance before returning to work.
Then there was the huge picture window right up front which offered an incredible view of what was right ahead of and directly above the ship and Laney could only stare in awe at the grand vastness of what lay before them.
She couldn’t help but feel so small.
Dek was leaned against another console, a little off-center, monitoring a little screen with blinking dots. The chair he was standing by swiveled around and Laney met the gaze of the young woman with cropped blonde hair and gray eyes sitting in it as she gave Laney a scrutinizing look.
It made Laney feel even smaller.
“Miss Carter,” the blonde began with an authoritative tone before she pushed off the chair to approach Laney.
“Uh…” Laney’s throat went dry as she braced herself for whatever scolding she was about to receive.
Just then, a tall woman with curly hair, wearing overalls over the same jumpsuit uniform sauntered into the bridge and walked up to approach the big chair. She handed the blonde a square tablet. “Here’s that report on the last K-jump, Commander Trin.”
“Thanks, Sol.”
Sol jerked her thumb in Laney’s direction. “Who’s this?”
“That’s Laney,” Dek supplied. “She’s the girl Berry mentioned we’re supposed to be helping get home.”
“Berry.” Sol’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you mean that guy that comes on the intercom a lot?”
Laney pursed her lips. She was a little bit flummoxed how everyone seemed pretty calm and business as usual when they should be burning all the thrusters or something to save Noah’s life ASAP.
“Commander,” Laney began to Trin. “I’m so sorry to interrupt but we need to find my friend right now. It’s urgent.” Her tone was nothing but serious, if not a little bit shaky.
Sol’s eyebrows lifted at her directness, but Trin kept reading the report.
Trin’s manner was nonchalant. “I’m very sorry about your friend but our agreement with Berry was to help you get home,” she explained. “We’re already risking enough as it is.” She shrugged. “Besides, my understanding from Berry is that there’s a particular appointment you urgently need to attend. Any deviations from our current course will cause delays.”
“No, no, no, no, no.” Laney shook her head. “We have to go find Noah. The Alliance has him. He’s in terrible danger.”
Trin gave the tablet back to Sol then called out to the other guy sitting at the console on the right. “Cam, it looks like we’re still getting that residual disruption to the backup systems. Can you run a diagnostic on the ion reactor? The last thing we want right now is a broken jump drive.”
“Commander, please,” Laney implored. “We have to go. We have to go now.”
Trin regarded her with a look and a pause. Then she drawled, “Sigrid, can you pull up a map of our course?”
A holographic map flickered up overlaying the main viewing window.
Laney looked taken aback. “Your ship’s computer is called Sigrid? As in Siri?”
Dek interjected offhand. “She’s an advanced evolution of AI from our Earth. Think she was originally used for mobile phones or something.”
Laney’s eyebrows rose in amusement. It was no wonder her voice sounded so familiar.
Trin studied the map for a second. “We’re already more than halfway to our destination,” she relayed. “Besides, we’d need to do a trace on all intercepted messages to the fleet to even figure out where they’re holding your friend.”
“I’ve already taken the liberty of doing a trace, Commander. Dr. Noah Donovan is on the generation ship Aquila, currently 1.3 light-hours from Earth, near the orbit of Saturn.”
Laney blinked in surprise.
Trin pursed her lips knowingly. “Were you eavesdropping again, Sigrid?”
“I’m sorry, Commander. It’s been a while since we’ve had visitors.”
Laney’s eyes popped out. “The computer eavesdrops?”
Trin shook her head. “She’s got quite an attitude. I’m not sure they programmed her correctly.”
All of a sudden, a loud alarm blared on the PA, every control panel and status light in sight started blinking red, the sliding door to the bridge shushed closed, and steam or smoke billowed from the air vents in the ceiling.
“Cabin decompression in twenty seconds.”
Trin yelled out, “Jeez, Sigrid! I was just kidding. Lighten up.”
The alarm instantly turned off and everything turned gray again.
Dek laughed out loud.
Laney wanted to laugh too if she hadn’t nearly thrown up in a panic. After everything she’d been through, the absolute last thing she could take was to almost suffocate in the vacuum of space.
“So dramatic.” Trin rolled her eyes. “Either way, The Aquila sounds like it’s three hundred and fifty light-years in the wrong direction. Besides, wasn’t this guy a soldier? He would have known the risks. He knew what he was getting himself into.”
“No!” Laney clenched her fists in indignation. “That’s not an option! We have to save him. We can’t just leave him there. I’m not just going to leave him there.”
Trin gave her an even look. “You realize you’re risking your only way to get back to your homeworld. You understand that, right?”
Sol had stepped back beside Cam’s station, her arms crossed over her chest.
“What ar
e you doing?” he asked, looking up at her briefly as he worked.
“Watching a battle of wills,” Sol quipped. “When was the last time anyone stood up to the Commander like this? Feel like we need some popcorn.”
Dek’s shoulders shook in mirth but he didn’t comment.
Cam raised his hand, regarding them all with a look. “For the record, I signed on to this mission to explore deep space, not to put my entire career on the line to commit interdimensional treason.” Then his tone changed. “But if you’re all keen, I’m good to go.” He met Trin’s narrow-eyed gaze and shrugged. “Just sayin’.”
Sol chuckled again.
“Dek?” Trin prompted after a moment.
Dek spoke softly. “If he was one of us, you know as well as I do, we would never leave him behind.”
Trin tilted her head in deep thought as if letting his words sink in.
Laney watched the exchange, looking from one of them to the other.
Dek and Trin were facing in opposite directions at an angle, not even touching, not even looking at each other, but anyone would already be able to tell there was something between the two of them. It was as though their entire posture and body language changed the moment the other drew near.
“Oh my god,” Laney exclaimed in realization. “You guys are primaries.”
Trin raised an eyebrow at her. “You know about primaries?”
Dek glanced up from his console.
Laney blinked as if to snap out of a trance. “I mean—I’ve just heard the theory. It is only a theory though. Right?” There was an oddly urgent catch in her tone.
Dek raised his eyebrows as if to consider it. “It’s open to interpretation, but I would say it’s pretty solid as far as theories go.”
Trin shot her a look. “You two are too, aren’t you? You and this Noah.”
Laney stiffened nervously. “Um, I don’t know. Sort of, I guess.”
“You don’t know?” Trin looked amused. “Honey, I think you missed the point. You are primaries because you know.”
Laney made a face. “It’s complicated.”
Trin put her hands up in resignation. “Sure, if you say so.”
Then she cast a glance around the bridge, put her hands to her hips, then blew out a huge breath. “Alright,” she decided with a nod. “What the hell.”
Sol put her palms up. “Hold up. So we’re seriously doing this?”
Trin gave her a slight shrug. “You’d better get back to Engineering.”
“Hah.” Sol let out a laugh. “Girl, you’re crazier than I thought.” Then she grinned. “I like it,” she declared before whirling around to exit the bridge, the door closing behind her.
Laney met Trin’s gaze again and there was no disguising the relief or gratitude on her face. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Trin merely cracked a smirk and gave her a wink. “Let’s buckle up!” she announced as she hopped into her chair at the same time as she whirled it around to face forward.
Dek motioned Laney to one of the seats near the back. “Make sure you’re strapped in,” he said, moving to show her how to put the seatbelt on. “You might feel a bit dizzy for a sec. We’ll have to disable the artificial gravity again to power up the K-drive.”
“The K-drive?” Laney narrowed her eyes in curiosity as she clipped the five-point safety harness around her.
“The Kennedy drive,” Dek answered. “The Dauntless is a prototype. This is the first ship in the fleet to successfully achieve space folding.”
“All the other ships can only do sublight speeds so far, including The Aquila,” Trin stated, sounding proud of the fact.
“The tech is remarkably similar to your quantum shear technology as it’s also based on black hole principles,” Dek went on even as he strapped himself into his own chair. “I can tell you more about it later on.”
“Attention,” Trin pressed a button on her communicator and her voice came over the PA. “All hands. Prepare for zero-G.” Then she looked over and gave a nod to Cam who flipped the switch.
“Artificial gravity disabled.”
Laney held her breath, and as soon as Sigrid made her announcement, she felt her arms begin to drift up that she was sure if she wasn’t belted down into her seat, she would be floating around the room.
Her stomach stirred in slight nausea but she clenched her jaw in determination. Hold on, Noah, she thought fervently. I’m coming.
“Cam, set a course for the generation ship Aquila,” Trin ordered.
“Aye.”
“Engaging the K-Drive,” Dek announced, flipping several switches.
“Space jump in 3, 2, 1…”
First
Eighteen months ago
Laney could see her breath as white puffs in the cold as she ran toward her friend who was waiting at the top of the bleachers.
Darla threw up her hands as she spotted her. “Finally!” She rubbed her hands together to keep warm as she gave Laney coming closer a pointed look. “I swear to god, Laney Carter,” she started. “If you manage to ever be on time for anything, I will die of actual shock,” she spoke, already turning to head down the stadium steps to find a seat among the noisy, colorful crowd of New England ice hockey fans, all decked out in blue and white, waving flags and foam fingers.
“Whatever, Darla,” Laney dismissed. “You’re just always early.”
Darla gestured to the time on the giant scoreboard mounted above the rink as she walked. “Uh hello? Technically, you are exactly thirteen minutes and forty-five seconds late to the final game of the season.”
Laney laughed. “I didn’t realize you were this crazy about school sports.”
“Oh come on, this is the last social event before summer break. I wouldn’t miss it.”
“And it looks like everyone else had the same notion,” Laney mused as she looked around the seats packed with students.
“I know, right? Was campus empty?” Darla wanted to know.
“Yup.” Laney nodded, rubbing her own hands together. “Total ghost town.”
“Yesss,” Darla breathed in triumph as they found some empty seats right by the aisle. “Hey guys, could you squeeze down a bit, please?” She motioned to the other students sitting in the row to make space. “Thanks. Hey.” She nudged Laney as they settled into their seats. “What was that you were trying to tell me before fifth period today?”
“Oh. That.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” She shook her head. “Julian was being heinous about the school band try-outs. It’s like he thinks we don’t have another whole year of this, you know? And of course, his problems supersede anyone else’s.”
Laney hesitated.
Darla studied her expression. “What is it?” she asked, already sounding suspicious.
“Remember I told you I had that dream—”
“Yes, the one with Mr. Hotness, of course,” Darla interjected, already nodding.
Laney laughed at her quick response.
“What?” Darla put her hands up innocently.
Laney opened her mouth to speak but her next statement was interrupted by a rally on the ice and she and Darla looked over.
A broad-shouldered hockey player on their home team had done an intercept, going for a breakaway, and was fielding the puck down the rink. He called out to a teammate, doing an effortless pass, before the next guy neatly thwacked the puck into the net for a goal, making the entire stadium practically shake in celebration.
“YES!” Darla stood up, clapping her hands, to cheer out loud with the crowd.
Laney made a face, waiting for the cheers to die down and for Darla to settle back in her seat before she went on with her story. “So I had the dream again,” she told Darla.
“Sweetie, we’ve all been there. I mean, look at the guy.” Darla gestured toward the game.
Laney looked over at the rink again.
Both teams had been called back to the bench.
The hockey player with the broad shoulders made a smoo
th sliding stop right near the glass before skating over to join the rest of his team in their huddle to receive directions on the next play.
He stood among his teammates with a confident stance, looking intense, looking like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he knew he absolutely belonged in the hockey rink, as though he owned it.
Mr. Hotness.
Jake Donovan.
Jake was a popular campus figure, captain of the hockey team, quite a guy with the females from what Laney had heard, but they’d hardly ever crossed paths. They’d never had to. She didn’t even think he knew her name.
Jake took off his helmet, and with the end of the first period, Laney noticed his skin was shiny with sweat, and his usually slicked-back black hair was all tousled and unruly. She narrowed her eyes in a vague recall of the weird dream that was already beginning its slow fade into oblivion in the recesses of her brain.
Darla’s eyebrows rose as she watched Laney’s expression. “I’m sorry. I’m missing what could possibly be wrong with having this dream?”
Laney fidgeted. “It’s…weird. Isn’t it?”
“Well.” Darla shrugged. “Maybe it’s a sign that, you know, you should ask him out.”
Laney burst out laughing. “What? Come on, be serious.”
“What? I think that would be awesome!”
Laney’s jaw dropped a little, giving her friend a look like she’d forgotten how things worked in the real world. “He’s absolutely out of my league,” she pointed out. “He doesn’t even know I exist. That would be like a…frog asking out an eagle.”
Darla shot her a look. “That is a horrible metaphor,” she remarked. “So what did you want me to say then? Clearly, you were already expecting a certain response.”
“I’m saying this is the third time it’s happened in the last few weeks, and I was asking you more for like, dream interpretation stuff,” Laney explained. “It’s symbolic. It has to be,” she argued.
Darla pursed her lips. “Girl, you’ve known me for six years. What on earth makes you think I know anything about dream interpretation? I am a musician,” she enunciated. “Not a psychotherapist.” She thought it over. “Why don’t you ask one of those ones your parents keep on retainer for their legal cases?”