by S. H. Jucha
Days earlier, a breakthrough came in Sasha and Lindsey’s relationship. It was a tumultuous day for Sasha, who was upset about her failure to take action earlier to help Harbour, but Lindsey, who was struggling with Sasha’s emotional power, suspected there was a different reason for the girl’s unhappiness.
“I can imagine it’s a great weight to carry, knowing that you hurt someone,” Lindsey said. She knew her words had struck at the heart of Sasha’s problem when the girl’s face and emotional broadcast went flat.
“I never said that. The corporal deserved what he got.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t right to protect Captain Harbour. I said that hurting someone can weigh on our conscience.”
Once again, Sasha’s emotional signals died out. She was seated on the couch with her legs folded under her. Time passed for the two, while Sasha ruminated on what Lindsey had said. Minutes later, tears blurred Sasha’s eyes, brimmed over the lower lids, and streaked down her face.
Lindsey hurried to the couch and folded the child in her arms. Sasha cried her heart out to Lindsey that day.
A tapping at the door, interrupted Lindsey and Sasha’s hug in the kitchen. “Yasmin and Nadine today,” Sasha said, grinning.
“Come in, you two,” Lindsey called out.
“Well done, scamp,” Yasmin said, entering the door first and acknowledging that it was Sasha who had identified them, despite their efforts to shut all emotional transmissions down.
“Yeah, well, Lindsey caught me today,” Sasha admitted ruefully.
“It’ll come with practice, child,” Nadine cautioned. “You’ll get there one day, probably very soon.”
“Do you two think that if you gang up on me you can get through to Lindsey?” Sasha asked defiantly.
“We thought it would be an interesting experiment,” Yasmin replied, “if everyone agrees.”
Sasha looked expectantly at Lindsey, who could feel the girl’s power coiling.
“We accept the challenge,” Lindsey said.
“Yes!” Sasha exclaimed, rubbing her hands together.
Yasmin and Nadine sat on the couch and held hands. The touch allowed the two empaths to integrate the emotions they wanted to transmit. Lindsey took her seat in her reading chair, and Sasha sat at her feet and tucked her legs crosswise. Lindsey placed her hands on Sasha’s shoulders, and, in turn, Sasha reached up and covered Lindsey’s with hers.
“Ready?” Yasmin asked.
Lindsey responded for both of them. Sasha had dropped into a deep state of concentration, providing a strong emotional connection with Lindsey.
* * *
Herbert and Stacey consulted with Nadine and Yasmin, concerning Harbour’s progress.
“It’s been eight days,” Herbert said. “We removed the intubating tube two days ago. The swelling is greatly reduced, and the airway is recovering.”
“What’s the question, Herbert?” Nadine asked. “Is she well enough to be woken?”
“The issue is: What will Captain Harbour do once she’s awake?” Stacey asked.
“What do you mean? She’ll resume her duties, of course,” Yasmin replied.
“See, that’s the problem,” said Herbert. “We can wake her now, if she’ll refrain from using her voice for another six or seven days, including no whispering.”
The two empaths laughed, as if they shared a secret. “Keep her under, until she’s well enough to use her voice,” Nadine replied.
“We’ll inform Captain Bassiter of what we’ve recommended to you,” Yasmin added, as the two empaths exited the medical facilities continuing to laugh.
It was another six days before Herbert and Stacey considered Harbour’s throat sufficiently healed to wake her. However, they informed Dingles and Nadine first.
Harbour swam up from a murky dream, involving aliens, Jessie, and Sasha. In her dream, she was desperate to don a vac suit and had no idea how to do it. Time was running out, and she was failing to make it to safety. Worse, without a vac suit, she was unable to help the others, who desperately needed her.
“Ugh,” Harbour muttered, commenting on her dream, as she achieved full consciousness.
“Sip slowly, Captain,” Stacey said, placing a water bottle tube at Harbour’s lips.
Harbour sucked on the tube until the aching dryness in her throat passed. Her eyes focused on Dingles, hovering over Stacey’s shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak, but Dingles held a hand up in protest.
“Please, Captain, the medics want you to take it easy with the use of your throat for a couple of days. I can anticipate many of your questions. How about you let me report, and when I run out of words, if I haven’t covered everything to your satisfaction, you can ask your questions, okay?”
Harbour nodded gratefully. Nadine slipped out of the facilities, and Dingles settled into a comfortable chair that Herbert had provided. The first mate started with the events immediately after their departure from the JOS and Terror’s attack and Harbour’s emergency medical condition. He detailed the Belle’s successful launch, and the attempted interventions of the commandant, which were effectively repulsed with Captain Stamerson’s help. Harbour smiled at that one.
Dingles ensured his report contained minutiae, which lengthened the time it took him to give it. He deliberately droned on for nearly an hour before Harbour fell back asleep.
Stacey peeked over at Harbour and winked at Dingles. The old spacer rose, tiptoed out of the facilities, and returned to work, a smile on his face. He’d get a call from one of the medics when Harbour woke. They would feed her, and he’d continue his report. Dingles figured he could draw the process out for the rest of the day, which meant Harbour wouldn’t begin questioning him until tomorrow, by which time she’d probably want to leave the medical facilities.
Dingles was right. The next morning, Harbour was anxious to return to her cabin and work, but she found the enforced sleep had weakened her sufficiently that she was too shaky to walk. Having first refused the chair, Harbour experienced the indignity of requesting it, after she had sat heavily back down on her bed.
“Delivery service, ma’am,” Dingles said, tipping his cap to Harbour, and grabbing the handles of the chair.
Harbour smiled. “My cabin, sir.”
“Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am. Would you prefer the direct route or a scenic tour?”
“Dingles … push.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Dingles replied, but he only made it as far as exiting medical’s doors.
Harbour had a waiting committee. Sasha bolted free of Helena’s arms and wrapped herself around Harbour.
“Easy, Sasha,” Helena cautioned, but said no more when she saw the blissful expression on Harbour’s face. Sasha was sending with all her strength, and Harbour was the recipient.
Sasha stood slowly and backed away, sniffling. That was when Harbour spied Lindsey, standing between Yasmin and Nadine.
“How —” Harbour started to ask, but Yasmin shushed her.
“Let me explain, Captain,” Lindsey said, smiling. “Sasha and I have been playing a game that she used to enjoy with Helena and Aurelia. For lack of a better name, it’s called protect Lindsey. Sasha provides an emotional shield for the two of us, and Nadine and Yasmin attempt to penetrate it.”
“Sound dangerous,” Harbour whispered.
The five empaths chuckled. “You’ve never had Sasha defend you,” Yasmin said.
“Yes, I have,” Harbour replied, holding out her hand to Sasha, who took it and held on to it.
“Yes, you’re right, in that respect. Sorry. What I meant was that it was quickly evident to us that neither Nadine nor I could individually get through Sasha’s shield to Lindsey. So, we decided to try the both of us.”
“And they failed,” Sasha added impishly.
“True,” Nadine agreed.
“The point of this story, Captain,” Lindsey continued, “is that somehow the game is awakening my protective capabilities. They’ve not fully recovered, but I would
estimate I’m, at least, fifty percent. The idea is to keep at the game for another two weeks and see where I’m at, before we try this on another retired empath.”
Harbour released Sasha’s hand, cupped her neck, and pulled her face to hers. She rubbed noses, whispering, “Well done. I’m proud of you.”
Sasha didn’t need the words. She could feel Harbour’s power flooding through her mind. When Harbour eased the pressure on her neck, Sasha stood. Feeling energized, she announced, “We should try the game with Harbour.” But the responding denials from the four women quickly ended that idea.
“I could do it,” Sasha replied defiantly.
“Perhaps, child,” Lindsey said gently. “But the captain would never try her best in the game. It’s her job to protect everyone aboard this ship.”
“Oh,” Sasha replied. Her child’s eyes examined Harbour, but it was a burgeoning, young woman who saw Harbour in a different light.
The group separated, and Dingles pushed Harbour to her cabin. He then helped her into a reading chair.
“You can take that chair back to the med bay, Dingles.”
“Pardon me, Captain, but I think I’ve forgotten the way. I’ll find a spacer or resident who might be able to help me with that later,” Dingles replied.
“Okay, First Mate Bassiter, have it your way. Make yourself useful then, and make me a cup of green.”
“Yuck, I don’t know how you women can drink that stuff.”
“Stop griping and heed your captain’s request,” Harbour said, before she coughed.
Dingles hurried to bring Harbour a water bottle, silently cursing himself for engaging Harbour in conversation. Harbour was silent, sipping on the water, while Dingles made her drink. When he delivered it, he sat on the couch.
“I have some more news for you, Captain, that I was saving, but I’m only going to tell it to you if you promise me that you’ll send your questions to me via your comm unit.”
Harbour thought to argue, but the short coughing spell reminded her of her throat’s tenderness, and she nodded.
“Thank you, Captain,” Dingles replied, as conciliatory as he could sound. “On this first subject, I don’t have much detail, but it’s important for you to know. The alien site was activated. Wait, Captain,” Dingles said, holding a hand up. “You have to let me tell you what I know before you start with your questions.” He held his comm unit up, to indicate the agreed-on method since Harbour had started to speak.
“The site was activated accidentally by a tech, while a team was investigating the site. Whatever the tech did, it created some sort of energy field, a dome of some kind, trapping the team. It took a while, but they got everyone out safely. The lucky thing was that after the energy field came on, air, the kind humans need, was pumped into the dome, enabling the team to survive when their tanks ran dry.”
Harbour’s eyes beseeched Dingles, and he knew what she wanted to know. “Yes, Captain Cinders was leading the team. I spoke to Ituau, and she says that everyone is okay. That’s all I know, Captain, on that subject.”
Harbour sat thinking. She was full of questions, but Dingles had already said he didn’t have any more information. She rolled her finger in a circle, indicating he was to continue.
“The next bit of news is really exciting. Sorry, I know that last news was too, but this pertains to this ship and you. I found a set of files, copies of critical documents pertaining to the colonists’ agreement, the Captain’s Articles, and a bunch more. I was right that the first mate took a set to study, after he became the acting captain. Whoever cleaned out the Belle’s library made certain to wipe the captain’s desk monitor, but they forgot to check on the first mate’s private unit.”
Harbour pointed two fingers at her eyes and then at Dingles.
“Yes, Captain, I’ve read some of the pertinent ones, but there are hundreds of files.”
When Harbour pointed a finger at her comm unit and furrowed her brows, Dingles replied, “Sorry, Captain. I was following protocol, as the acting captain. We thumbed your comm unit open and locked it that way. I took the liberty of transferring copies of the Belle files to your monitor, but I left the original copies where I found them. I figured if no one had discovered them after almost three hundred years, they should be safe there.”
Harbour pointed to her temple and then cocked a finger at Dingles, winking.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Dingles replied. “I copied some key sections out of a few documents and stitched them together in one, noting the original location of each section. When you feel better, I recommend you start with that.”
Harbour nodded in appreciation. Then a wide yawn escaped her mouth, before she could cover it.
“I’ll be leaving you to get some rest, Captain. The medical team is on rotation. They’ll be standing by to help you with anything you need.” Dingles touched his cap and left.
Immediately, Harbour eyed her monitor where it would be easier to peruse documents, but, for the moment, crossing the small cabin seemed a risky maneuver. Instead, she pulled a throw over her lap and thumbed open her comm unit. Sipping on her green, she started with the summary document Dingles had prepared. Each section brought to mind several questions. So, as she finished each section, she jumped to the original document and read it in its entirety.
Two hours later, her green and water bottle long drained, Harbour had finished with the key documents that Dingles set aside for her. Her bladder full, she decided to attempt to use the facilities herself. Standing up produced a lightheadedness that didn’t fade. She gave in to the ignominy of crawling on her hands and knees to relieve herself and then crawled back to her chair.
Tucking her legs up on the chair and pulling the throw up to her chin, Harbour fell asleep, thinking of the incredible ramifications of the files Dingles discovered. It was no wonder the Andropov family and others had removed the original documents from the Belle’s library, working to eliminate copies.
Topsiders had long believed that what developed as a Pyrean leadership organization was contrary to the original intentions of the colonists, but there had never been any proof. Harbour had read that proof tonight. What the families had started downside directly contravened the colonists’ original agreements, signed before they boarded the ship.
Essentially, the Belle’s captain was responsible for directing the creation of a civilian government based on North American Confederation (NAC) standards and holding general elections to fill the various starting entities of president, court justices, and representatives. The families had usurped that authority, because the Belle had no captain at that time and a replacement was neither awakened nor promoted. The commandant and the Review Board were other anomalies, although Harbour wasn’t sure how those positions came about.
Harbour awoke to the sound of light tapping at her door. A quick glance at her comm unit revealed she’d been asleep for about three hours. Whoever was on the other side of the door was evincing some concern.
“Come in,” Harbour said, trying not to stress her throat.
The door eased open, and Stacey slipped through with a tray in her hands. “I took the liberty of preparing a meal for you, Captain. Some light things that will go down easy on your throat.”
Harbour set her throw aside and braced her hands on the arms.
“No, Captain, you sit there. The tray will rest fine on your lap,” Stacey said, and bustled about lifting covers and exposing food and juice.
Harbour’s stomach rumbled from the smells. Many of the dishes were her favorites, although she hadn’t seen them prepared quite this way. Most were purees.
Stacey plopped down on the couch and began reading on her comm unit.
“You don’t have to wait, Stacey. You may return to your duties.”
“That’s quite all right, ma’am. Don’t mind me.”
“Stacey, do you require an order from me?” Harbour asked, becoming a little annoyed.
“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but you can order all
you want. It won’t do you any good. See, under the Captain’s Articles, medical might have released you so that you could return to your cabin, but we didn’t clear you for active duty. Until we do, Herbert and I are technically your superiors. Now, you go ahead and eat. Then, I’ll help you get ready for bed.”
Stacey went back to reading, as if they never had the tit-for-tat conversation. Harbour swallowed her annoyance and dug into her food, vowing to do whatever needed to be done to regain her health and be released from the clutches of the medical team.
-35-
Reunion
Harbour had two more weeks to recover the full use of her voice before the Belle closed on Jessie’s ships over Triton. It was more than sufficient.
To everyone aboard the colony ship, it was evident that their captain was undergoing subtle changes that, taken in their entirety, marked a profound departure from the Harbour they had known months ago. The captain’s conversations with others were more direct, tending toward one-sided communication. She was adopting spacers’ terminology and their style of speaking.
Quite telling of the change was Harbour’s choice of dress the day she emerged from her cabin, having been released from medical’s care. She was wearing the skins that the artisan, Makana, had decorated. When Makana saw Harbour wearing them, she slipped out the two, plain, black skins in Harbour’s wardrobe and set about decorating those with new designs. Intentionally, she chose to give the skins more formidable appearances, paying less attention to Harbour’s female attributes.
Harbour wasn’t completely unaware of the changes in her demeanor. What she did feel was a sense of purpose that she’d never had before. It might have started with the desire to go to the rescue of the spacers trapped at Triton by the quarantine. Certainly, she was still rankled by the proposals of Emerson and Lise that the spacers should remain permanently isolated. But the more Harbour thought about it, the more she realized that a deeper anger drove her. The documents that Dingles had found indicated that the hopes of the original colonists for their future society had been usurped by a few, powerful families, who chose to build a life separate from the majority and proceeded to take for themselves the only foothold on the planet.