Degrees of Wrong

  the same ship. Will there be enough room?”

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  Anna Scarlett

  Now we both scowled at the admiral, probably with a common thought—

  that there might not be enough room. And neither of us appreciated being called a child.

  “Sir, she’s already made a mess of things, I’m afraid,” Captain Marek said.

  I gawked at him. “What? Me?”

  “Yes, Dr. Morgan, you. Boarding the ship posing as a cadet was for your

  protection. With your insubordination this morning, you’ve placed the entire

  pretense in jeopardy.”

  Admiral Rudd crossed his arms. “What insubordination?”

  “She almost assaulted Lt. Horan, sir.”

  The admiral’s arms flew away from his chest. “She what?”

  Even Dr. Folsom gaped at me now.

  “Sir, when I reached the two on the dock, they were nose to nose in an

  altercation, and she was in the process of threatening him,” the captain

  recounted.

  I waited for him to say something that wasn’t true, because as soon as he did,

  I would protest. So far, though, I agreed with his rendition.

  “Elyse wouldn’t do such a thing,” Dr. Folsom declared. She turned to me.

  “Elyse, tell the admiral what happened.”

  Captain Marek remained impassive, even after Dr. Folsom’s remark made

  him out to be a liar.

  I shrugged my guilt, not meeting her eyes. “That’s about right, so far,” I

  admitted. “But he did provoke me.”

  Admiral James Rudd guffawed. “You threatened Lt. Horan? That man’s

  stare can crumble granite. He makes combat-trained men cry like diapered

  toddlers. And you…” he pointed at me in his amusement, “…stood in his face

  and threatened him?”

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  I nodded, hoping he wouldn’t make me go back to the bathroom.

  “What did you threaten him with?” Curiosity made his face seem boyish.

  “I hadn’t threatened him yet. I was about to. I was interrupted.” Almost

  pouting, I glared at Captain Marek, who appeared unperturbed.

  “What were you going to tell him?” Admiral Rudd pressed on.

  “I’d rather not say.”

  His bellowed laughter resonated off the walls.

  “I’d rather not know,” interjected the captain. “The point is, Admiral, she

  was insubordinate in front of her fellow cadets. If we move her out from under

  Lt. Horan’s command now, it will seem as though she’s gotten her way. That her

  behavior was acceptable—that she’s special. That’s the last thing we want, sir.”

  The admiral rubbed his clean-shaven jaw as if scratching a beard. “I’m afraid

  Nicoli is right. If you hadn’t given such a public display of…distaste…for Lt.

  Horan, we might’ve transferred you to Dr. Folsom’s command. However, as it is in your best interest to pose as a cadet, we have to stick with the most natural

  course of action. You must remain under his care. We’re already at a

  disadvantage, since you used your real name.”

  “The man is ridiculous,” I spat. “He made me clean the bathroom with a

  toothbrush.”

  “Admiral, is that really necessary?” Dr. Folsom stepped in. “It’s such an

  unsanitary practice.”

  “She didn’t clean the bathroom,” Captain Marek cut in. “When I came to

  retrieve her, she was leaning against the wall, sound asleep.”

  The man was infuriating. Intolerable. And was he now implying that I was

  lazy?

  I stepped toward him. “In the past forty-eight hours, I watched people I love

  die. I was kidnapped from my home, forced into servitude on this miserable ship

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  and met the most condescending man in existence—not to mention Lt. Horan.

  Pardon me, Captain, if cleaning your filthy bathroom with a toothbrush didn’t

  quite top my priority list.

  “Your concern about my qualifications seems a bit hypocritical considering your own shortcomings. For instance, your lack of compassion makes you unfit

  to run a ship full of living, breathing people. Were you absent that day in captain school? Maybe you could get your money back.” I was inches from his face now,

  and even in the throes of anger, I could find no imperfection there—which

  irritated me hugely.

  Also, he smelled nice.

  My fit-throwing stunned the three to silence. Captain Marek, in particular,

  regarded me as if I had morphed into a breast-feeding reptile. No doubt he was

  unaccustomed to being addressed in such a manner. I felt certain he would

  adjust.

  Seizing my opportunity—the element of flabbergast—I added, “That said, I

  would appreciate very much if my laptop could be returned to me. It happens to

  contain every shred of research I’ve documented on the HTN4 virus, and it

  seems irresponsible to allow a halfwit like Horan to have access to it. I’d also be grateful if someone could show me to my room, and some food, in no particular

  order.”

  Still, silence.

  After a few more exaggerated seconds, Dr. Folsom took my hand and

  whispered, “I— Please come with me, Elyse. I’d be happy to show you to your

  quarters.”

  I allowed her to tow me toward the door. Before we exited, I turned back to

  the two men still gawking at me. “And, Captain Marek?”

  He raised a brow.

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  I paused for effect. “You owe me a toothbrush.”

  Dr. Folsom jerked me by the hand out of the office. Behind us, I thought I

  heard Admiral Rudd snickering.

  Dr. Folsom delivered me to my quarters within five minutes. She turned off

  the alarm at my door, as I was still an intruder by security standards.

  “After you rest up a bit, we’ll get you processed,” she said.

  I promenaded the room as if checking into a hotel suite. Not as luxurious as

  Admiral Rudd’s office, but not offensive, either. In fact, it reminded me of my

  dorm room at The University—I could feel at home here. The small space

  boasted a single, tightly made bed, a simple metal desk with matching chair, and

  a gray sitting chair identical to the one in the admiral’s office. A door on the far side entered into what I assumed was the bathroom, and the tall metal wardrobe

  beside the bed would fit seven days’ worth of these morbid black uniforms. Tiny,

  drab—efficient.

  I turned to Dr. Folsom. “Home, sweet home.”

  She returned a rueful smile. “You know, Nicoli is not a bad man.”

  I didn’t believe her. Still, arguing with her seemed ungrateful—and the

  captain was bound to prove her wrong on his own. I strode to the bed and sat

  down. “First impressions are usually incorrect,” I offered as a truce. And who

  didn’t know that better than me?

  “Yes,” she agreed. Her smile was authentic as she plopped down beside me.

  “Why don’t we get some food in you? Let’s go to the mess hall, and we’ll get

  your blood sugar back up to normal levels.”

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Grinning, I followed her

  out the door.

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  Anna Scarlett

  She led me through the miscellaneous, unidentifiable hallways, pointing out

  things she thought I should remember. I pretended to commit them to memory.

  In reality, I knew this maze of a ship would confound me for weeks. The

  elevator—if that was in fact what it was called—shuffled us through the innards

  of the vessel.

  By the time we got there, my stomach growled in agony. The mess hall was

  vast, with tables and chairs spread across the center and a buffet-style serving

  line which also reminded me a lot of The University cafeteria. We were the only

  patrons at the moment. I’d not only missed breakfast, but lunch as well.

  Dr. Folsom grabbed a tray and bid me to take a seat. I complied, pulling up

  the closest chair and watching as she spoke to a man behind the counter. He

  disappeared into a room behind him, returning with several plates which he

  placed on the tray.

  She strode to the table with her bounty. I sighed in appreciation. Before me

  she spread a fare of pasta, green salad, dinner roll and—tears came to my eyes—

  a piece of chocolate cake. This fluffy item I grabbed first because it was, by far, the most important food group. Devouring it in all of three bites, I closed my

  eyes, savoring the richness.

  After annihilating the unsuspecting cake, I stabbed the pasta violently with

  my fork, cleaning my plate in mere minutes. The dinner roll never saw me

  coming, and the salad was easy prey as well. I stacked the four plates up as a

  tower, a monument to my fullness. I patted my belly in satisfaction but grimaced

  at the little bulge there now.

  Dr. Folsom laughed. “That should give you a new perspective on things.”

  “Yes.” But Captain Marek wasn’t one of those things. Pretty Princess didn’t

  fare any better. Calories were no cure for them.

  “Would you like to see the lab now?”

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  “Yes, very much so.”

  We headed out the door, into the obscurity of the halls. She fed me this

  mumbo jumbo about being able to remember the levels using the alphabet, like

  A Deck, B Deck and so forth, but I knew it would take one good instance of

  getting completely lost before I’d really try to discern the differences between

  levels. Voice-prompted elevators didn’t help—the lazy part of me would use

  them without shame.

  When we reached the laboratory, she introduced me to the little vigilant laser

  as a guest, so it didn’t throw another tantrum about intruders. I surveyed my

  new lab in open-mouthed awe.

  It was stocked to the hilt with state-of-the-art equipment—opposite of the

  spectrum from my makeshift lab at home. I hoped I remembered how to use

  some of this stuff. Speechless, I nodded to her in approval.

  “Good,” she said simply. “We’ll need to make a list of things you need,

  specific to your research.”

  “I already gave that list to Geoffrey,” I told her. She looked confused, and I

  supposed she didn’t know who he was. Need-to-know basis, I could hear him say.

  His favorite answer to any of my questions.

  “If you’ve already made prior arrangements, we’ll wait a few days until it

  arrives and take stock then. In the meantime, you can familiarize yourself with

  the ship. But in order to do that, we’ll need to get you processed.” And then she bit her lip.

  “What?” I asked with dread.

  “Lt. Horan is your commander. He’ll need to be the one to sign off on your

  access areas.”

  I growled, rubbing my temples.

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  Her stoic expression broke into a smile. “I’ll ask the admiral to speak to him.

  After your public display of affection…” she grinned, “…he’ll be out to get you.

  If he isn’t given boundaries, he’ll keep you busy ’round the clock. He can be

  quite a nuisance.”

  “I was thinking of a more descriptive expletive.”

  She smiled. “Let’s get you back to your room. You need to rest. You’ve

  endured a lot in the past few days, and you need time to recuperate from the

  shock of it.” She sounded like my mother again.

  “Thank you.”

  On the way back, I prodded her with questions. Captain Marek warranted

  dislike, of course, but also curiosity. “Why did Admiral Rudd call him a child

  prodigy?” I asked shyly. I didn’t want her to mistake my interest for—well,

  interest.

  “Because that’s what he is. He’s the youngest individual to captain a UOC

  vessel since its inception. He’s not much older than you, twenty-nine. You can

  imagine the intelligence it takes to oversee such a large ship.”

  I tried not to be impressed. “He doesn’t like me.” And I tried not to care.

  “First impressions are usually incorrect,” she shot back. I grinned, giving her

  credit for her spirit. But she still evaded the non-question.

  “His eyelashes are longer than mine.”

  “And mine,” she chortled, eyes asparkle.

  “So, even if he hadn’t been so rude, I’d still dislike him on that count alone,”

  I assured her. She laughed.

  We reached my quarters, and she gained us access to the room. I strode to

  the bed, plucking off the heavy boots and rubbing my sock feet. She walked to

  the wardrobe, pulling out what appeared to be sleepwear, and tossed it to me. It

  was even in my favorite color—black.

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  “You have a private shower.” She pointed to the bathroom. “Take a hot one,

  relax and get some rest.” She walked to the bed, standing over me.

  I smirked up at her. “What do you think Father would say?”

  “About getting some rest?”

  “About me working for the UN.”

  She tilted her head, thoughtful. “I think he would understand. Doesn’t sound

  like you had much of a choice.”

  “He would disagree. He would say, ‘Every problem has at least two

  solutions.’”

  “And the alternative was almost certain death, from what James told me.

  Your father would much rather you live, even if it meant working for the UN, I

  think.”

  I cocked my head at her, doubtful.

  “You know, you remind me so much of your mother. Those green eyes, that

  rich brown hair. But just now, when you tilted your head at me…” she drew in a

  sharp breath, “…I would swear it was her sitting there.” Tears threatened the

  rims of her eyes. They already spilled down my own cheeks.

  “I miss her more than I can describe,” I admitted, burying my face in my

  hands.

  Dr. Folsom sat, pulling me to her with both arms. Her voice shook. “You

  have no idea how proud she was of you. She couldn’t finish a sentence without

  somehow fitting in your praise.”

  “I could use her advice right now,” I sobbed, “but mostly just her presence. I

  can’t imagine what she’d say about how I acted this afternoon.” I recoiled

  inwardly. I could see her frowning in disapproval, especially at my threatening

  Lt. Horan. Think of his blood pressure, darling, she’
d scold.

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  Anna Scarlett

  “She would’ve been proud,” Dr. Folsom said. “Proud that you stood up for

  yourself, that you put a few self-important people in their rightful places.”

  I was surprised she seemed to include Captain Marek in that generalization.

  But mostly, I appreciated her support. And her arms.

  After a few moments, I was somehow able to pull myself from grief’s chasm

  and wipe away my own tears. Dr. Folsom took back the arms she’d lent me.

  “Shower and sleep,” she reiterated, walking toward the door. “I’ll be back in

  the morning to get you processed, and then we’ll take a full tour of the ship.” She turned to face me. “Since your supplies haven’t come in yet, do you mind

  helping me with some routine physicals in the next few days? I’m swamped with

  all the new recruits.”

  “No problem whatsoever.”

  “Good. Thanks.” She smiled. “Oh, and don’t forget, you’re not in the security

  system yet, so you cannot leave the room, okay?”

  I nodded, unable to think of a single reason I’d want to leave the confines of

  my new sanctuary.

  She winked at me and left.

  I grabbed the pajamas and headed for the bathroom. The strong water

  pressure surprised me, almost flaying the flesh from my body—and I enjoyed

  every last drop.

  Toweling my hair as I exited the bathroom, I stopped short when I reached

  the bed. On the single, crisp pillow was a toothbrush, still in its original

  packaging. And I was pretty sure it hadn’t been there before I got in the shower.

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  Chapter Five

  My stomach snarled. I pulled my face from the microscope and glanced at

  the clock, although my gut had already convinced me it was lunchtime. I

  grabbed my book and headed for the mess hall. I was eating with Ebony today,

  but in case something detained her, I’d have something to occupy me.

  Ebony was nothing short of a savior to me here. She radiated self-confidence

  and serenity, and this had a calming effect on me—which I needed when

  exposed to my peers for any length of time. She had this special way of turning

  up her nose at the spectators. I tried to mimic it in the mirror sometimes but

  could never get it quite right.

  I bounded down the hall toward the elevator. After one week aboard the

  Bellator, I could find my quarters and the lab without assistance. After two weeks, I could negotiate the indiscernible hallways like a paid tour guide.