by Drew Avera
Time was meaningless as she waited for him to reach her. It could have been mere seconds, but it felt like so much more as ragged gasps tormented her lungs with the pains of desperation. When he finally caught her, she felt warmth like the sun and then that warmth began to drizzle into the frigidness she had grown accustomed to. This is what it’s like to die, she thought, as Brendle pulled her close. Anki felt their outward drift lurch to a stop, but she couldn’t understand what was happening. She could only assume it was Brendle’s doing. She looked into his eyes, as he looked into hers, her black hair tickling his cooling flesh as if they were underwater. The gentle pull of the Replicade took her attention for a moment, but nothing more. She hoped for salvation, to breathe again, but even hope felt out of reach as the dark fingers of space tugged at her soul.
Anki looked at the man who had risked his life for her more than once. He wore the face of the people who had destroyed her world, but he was as much a part of her world as anyone else now. His selflessness showed her what kind of man was under his Greshian skin. He was the kind of man her father was. Their blood might be different, but their hearts were molded by the same kind of compassion. She could see it now, as his last word echoed in her mind, the only sound in vacuum was the sound of “forever”. Their eyes met with longing, the need to live and to say what the other was thinking because it was important to both of them now, and then the darkness took them.
Chapter 28: Brendle
We are broken people from severely broken worlds, Brendle thought as he stood at the foot of Anki’s bed in the medical bay. She had been torn from the ship so quickly that he didn’t have time to do anything but react. He had saved her, held her close until they could be reeled in. It was an idiotic move, but one which proved fruitful because here he stood watching her sleep off the effects of medically induced slumber. Her body heat was restored and any tissue damage she had experienced was on the mend. He was thankful for that much, at least.
But even with the good news of her being able to pull through, he was conflicted. He cherished the fact that he had done the right thing for the right reason, but he had a gnawing feeling that the wool was about to be pulled from his eyes and everything he thought was about to be revealed as fantasy. If he was truthful with himself he would say he thought he might love her, but thinking it made him question it. Wouldn’t questioning it mean there were feelings, though? He tried not to think about it too much, but it was all he thought about.
Even with his internal conflict, he had a lot to be thankful for. His life was preserved due to the swift action of Malikea and Deis. Had they not responded to the breached hull and reeled Brendle and Anki in, then there would be a very different outcome right now. It was a chilling thought and it reminded him of the cold of the dark as it crept over his skin. He felt what it would be like to freeze to death and suffocate at the same time. it was a realization that he thought might haunt him in the days to come. Luckily, his exposure had been minimal. Anki, on the other hand had been exposed longer and needed to be carried to the medical bay for resuscitation. It had been a harrowing experience to say the least.
“How is she,” Malikea asked as he stepped into the medical bay, pulling Brendle from his thoughts. He had changed clothes. Gone were the robes of his religious attire and now he was dressed in coveralls not unlike the ones Brendle’s previous shipmates wore on the Telran. There were no nametags on these coveralls, though, so he doubted they were military uniforms.
“She’s sleeping off the effects right now, but according to the medical cart she’s going to pull through,” Brendle answered. “How is Deis holding up?”
“He’s is doing much better now. He’s mending the breach in the airlock with a temporary patch. Luckily it’s the kind of work he grew up doing, but he thinks it’s best to port for a permanent repair at our earliest convenience. Of course, the cargo bay will be secured until we find a more permanent solution,” he said, his eyes on Anki for a moment before looking up to Brendle. “Thank you for saving him,” Malikea said as he placed his hand on Brendle’s shoulder.
Brendle looked at him, their eyes locked onto each other and Brendle realized the man was sincere. “If not for me then he wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place.” It was the truth no matter how much he wished it wasn’t.
Malikea smiled and rubbed Brendle’s shoulder before placing his hand back in his pocket. “That might be true, but another truth is that without you we would all be dead. You did a brave thing and I think Deis would agree that a bump on the head is a small price to pay for living another day. I think she would agree as well,” he said, nodding towards Anki, her shallow breaths causing her chest to rise and fall.
Brendle smiled at a thought, “I’m sorry for pulling my gun on you,” he said, the hopeful smile still etched on his face. He liked Malikea, despite what his previous actions might have indicated, and he thought Malikea might feel the same way towards him. Escaping the Telran was a tricky situation and add to that the fact that no one on board knew one another or built trust in one another made things more difficult than they would have been otherwise. Brendle just hoped the process of building a friendship was fully intact, now that the heat of the moment had passed. It was a safe bet, considering Malikea had been the one to reel them back onto the Replicade and secure the airlock. Brendle felt he owed him his life, and had said so when they brought an unconscious Anki into the med bay. Malikea had brushed it off, but it was a debt Brendle fully expected to pay back.
Malikea laughed and nudged Brendle with his elbow. “I think I might have had that coming. It’s not every day I attack someone, so please forgive me as well.” His smile matched Brendle’s and they both laughed. It was easier to be at peace with the past now that they were out of danger, but still remembering, it vividly played on Brendle’s mind in a way that made him question whether or not he was the kind of man he wanted to be, or if he was the kind of man the Greshians expected him to be. He would have shot Malikea had things progressed towards that necessity, but he was thankful they hadn’t.
“Why don’t you boys just kiss already?” Anki said, wincing as she opened her eyes. The color had returned to her cheeks.
Brendle stepped close to her, wanting to reach for her hand, but he pulled back. “How are you?” he asked. He craned over to read the medical cart, but it was all gibberish to him. As long as it isn’t beeping to an alarm and flashing, then I won’t go into panic mode.
Anki tried to sit up, but it was hard trying to do so when she had one hand trying to block the light shining in her eyes. “I’d be doing better if you could turn down the lights,” she groaned.
Malikea moved over to dim the lights, “The medical cart must have dilated her eyes. Deis had the same issue when he came to. It will pass soon, though.”
The lights faded to a more comfortable level as Anki sat upright on the medical cart. “Thank you,” Anki said. She was finally looking comfortable, or as comfortable as the medical cart allowed.
“I kind of owed you one for not killing me when you had the chance. Thank you for that,” he said. Brendle’s hand touched hers. It was a delicate touch, but one to let her know he was there. She didn’t move her hand which was a good sign in his eyes. She looked at him and their eyes met, his emerald green eyes getting lost in her dark amber eyes. He was mesmerized by her. Lost in the sea of her beauty, but it was temporary.
“Where do we go next?” Malikea asked, ruining the moment Brendle had lost himself in. He reluctantly pulled his hand away and looked at Malikea.
“I don’t know, I guess that depends on you and Deis. It’s your ship,” Brendle replied.
“You are a much more proficient pilot than either of us. Surly you have the skill set worthy to captain this vessel.” Malikea wasn’t smiling when he said this which prodded Brendle with a reluctant question.
“You would have a Greshian captain your ship?” It was a reasonable question in Brendle’s eyes. Greshia wasn’t held in much esteem with th
e other sectors, even the ones which claimed loyalty to Greshia. Sometimes politics swayed in the direction that kept you alive, at least for some worlds. Others apparently didn’t get the memo.
Malikea looked him in the eye, no humor in his gaze at all. “Brendle, your actions showed us that you are no more Greshian than any of us are. You may have been born on Greshia, but your exile proceeded where your heart truly lies. For all our faults and distrust when we first met you, there is none with our decision to grant you the title of captain of the Replicade if you are willing to accept it. It is our ship, and we want to count you amongst us” he said, nodding to Anki, who he seemed to consider as part of the crew as well.
Brendle was taken aback. There was so much flooding his mind all at once that it was hard to process. “I don’t know what to say,” Brendle stammered. He looked at Anki who was smiling back at him. “Do you agree to this?” he didn’t know why he asked the question out loud. But in his heart he knew he wanted her acceptance, whatever that might look like.
Anki nodded. “I do. It was something we discussed while you were getting us through Key Lourna. We would have asked you earlier, but we’ve all been kind of busy lately.” She laughed and it warmed his heart.
“If that’s something you all agree on, then I accept,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. He had to admit there was a thrill to piloting such an agile war vessel, though he hoped any kind of warring would be in the past. He had no desire to pull a trigger on someone else ever again.
“We are glad to hear it, Captain,” Malikea said, extending his hand to Brendle.
Brendle took it and pulled the other man into an embrace. “Thank you, but please don’t call me ‘captain’. With a crew this small I don’t think rank is really going to mean anything.”
Malikea and Anki laughed. “Whatever you say, Captain.” Malikea nudged him, smiling.
Brendle ran his hand through his hair sheepishly. This is one crazy day, he thought. “Well, I guess I have a lot of captain things to do. Maybe I can start by fixing the damage Anki here made with the interface in case we need the autopilot to save our asses or something,” Brendle joked. She smiled at the joke, another good sign in his eyes. “I’ll come back and check on you soon,” he said, leaning over to Anki, the thought of kissing her burning in his mind. Her eyes grew wide, but she didn’t say no. Something like electricity was charging between them, but it was all in his mind and he knew it. Why am I afraid, he asked himself. He took her hand in his and squeezed it instead. It was the safest move, but far from the one he felt inclined to do.
He smiled at her and she smiled back. That was where he hoped she knew how he was beginning to feel about her, but he was too confused to have the courage to leap just yet. Soon, he told himself, soon.
Deis entered the medical bay as Brendle turned to leave. “How are you, Captain?” he laughed.
Brendle stopped and looked confused for a moment.
Deis lifted his com-unit and nodded his head towards his husband. “Good news travels fast, Captain.”
The medical bay erupted with laughter, all of it at Brendle’s expense. His nervousness wasn’t a deterrent in their eyes, he realized. That was a sign that they had more of the makings for a family than just a crew, he thought as he left the medical bay behind and headed for the bridge. He had a lot of work to do.
Epilogue: Anki
The bridge of the Replicade was dark when Anki stepped in, barefoot and shivering. Her heart ached with loss, but there was also something like a smoldering fire warming her up when she thought about Brendle and the spark between the two of them. He was not her kind, nor was she his; but deep down she knew they belonged together, forever. It was the only thing she could believe in as she took a seat near the console and ran her fingers along the smooth glass screen.
The technology of the Replicade was beyond anything she had ever seen. Despite its outward appearance, and look of neglect as rust and grime caked the bulkheads, Anki could see the ship was designed for battle, but also designed with some aesthetics in mind. She could see it now, even feel it when she touched the contours. She imagined that if the ship had a gender it would be female, though she doubted the men onboard would agree. As she ran her fingers along the screen it began to illuminate. She found a circular button where the screen ended and felt the compulsion to press it, even though she had no idea what the outcome could be. Surly it isn’t dangerous, she thought, her finger growing heavy as it hovered above. The button made an audible click when she pressed it, followed by nothing at first, and then a voice.
“May I assist you, Anki?” the voice was feminine with a tinge of robotic cadence. It startled her at first, but she maintained her composure enough to not fall on her ass, at least. It was a rather impressive feat considering she was still recovering from being exposed to the dark. Her near-death experience made her appreciate the fact she was still breathing. It was more than she could say about the rest of Luthia, as far as she knew.
“Who are you?” she asked, fighting back the sound of fear threatening to reveal itself in her voice.
“I am Pilot, the artificial intelligence assigned to the Replicade. I am your assistant as per orders from Captain Brendle. How may I assist you?”
Awestruck, Anki stepped towards the console looking for a way to see where the voice was coming from. “Where are you?”
“I apologize. Do you require a visual simulation in order to communicate?” From the corner of her eye, Anki saw a hologram appear of a woman’s face. There was only the face, nothing above or below, but the representation wasn’t meant to fool the viewer that the person speaking to them was real.
Anki stared for a moment, unsure of what to say. “So your sole purpose is to fly the ship?” She settled for an easy question despite the harder ones already forming in her mind.
“Yes, and no. I was designed to run the entire ship in order to assist the captain. The responsibility of assistance has shifted to you as per Captain Brendle’s order. I suppose you could say my job is to fly the ship and to assist you, the Executive Officer of the Replicade. Do you require assistance?”
The words “executive officer” rang in her mind for a moment. The position sounded much larger than she thought she could fill, yet here she was, on a ship as the second in command. She let out a chortle at the fact she was in charge of something she didn’t even know how to control. Perhaps that was why Brendle assigned Pilot as her assistant. “I’m not sure,” she answered. It was the truth. She didn’t really know why she had found her way to the bridge. “I’m just lonely I guess and wanted someone to talk to, but everyone else is sleeping.”
“I can contact anyone you require, Anki,” Pilot said.
Her gaze at the hologram dropped and she blinked back tears. “Not this person,” she said. “My father was on Luthia when it was destroyed. Now I’ll never hear his voice again.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Pilot replied.
“Are you?” she asked in return.
“It is the appropriate response for loss of life, is it not?”
Anki smiled half-heartedly. She should have known a machine would only calculate probabilities for responses. It wasn’t designed for empathy. “You’re right, it is,” she answered.
“If you like, I can change my voice and appearance as a representation of your father provided that you have an image of him and a recording of him speaking.”
Part of Anki’s mind wanted to explode at the thought of replacing her father with an artificial representation. But the other part wanted it to happen, if for no other reason than because she never got to say goodbye in the way she wanted to. “I have that on my com-unit.”
“If you place the device over the screen then I can extract the data,” Pilot said.
Anki pulled out her com-unit and turned it over in hands. Inside it was memories of her life before she stepped foot on the ship that brought her out into the dark, before Luthia was engulfed in flames and destroyed. Those memor
ies were all that was left of Luthia and she set them on the console as Pilot instructed and waited.
The console lit up with blue light which was almost blinding in the darkness of the bridge. The holographic image of the Pilot also changed; pixels collapsing and rebuilding themselves in the form of a full-bodied man, a Luthian man, her father. A moment later Pilot spoke, “Does this image serve your memory, Anki?”
She was shocked at how real her father’s image appeared, and the voice had taken the same slight twang of her Surda roots. If she closed her eyes she could almost believe he wasn’t dead, but that wouldn’t help her heal any faster. “The resemblance is astonishing,” she said.
Her father’s voice answered, but it was not him, “I’m pleased you think so, Anki.”
She sat and looked at the hologram version of her father. Even the eyes looked the same, though the ones she peered into were not windows to a soul than existed any longer. Over the course of time that wouldn’t matter. For now all she had was the moment in order to say goodbye as her future waited patiently for her return from her personal memoriam. No words were exchanged, the silence spreading over long moments. Everything was internal for her, the heartache, the reminiscence, and the eulogy. Her father would be remembered and for her that would have to be enough.
Anki said goodbye in her own way as the Replicade burned its way out into the dark void of space. Danger lurked somewhere in the cosmos, but she had seen what the Greshian Empire could throw at them. She also saw a side to them she never knew existed. Perhaps Brendle was an anomaly, but the truth was that he was growing on her. Despite everything, he showed her compassion. He risked his life for her, and actions like that spoke louder than words. She also noticed how he looked at her, a look of longing in his eyes. Was it for acceptance or something more? She wasn’t ready for complications, but she was glad she hadn’t shot him when given the opportunity. Everything was changing drastically and she hadn’t had time to process it all. Maybe there was a future for them in one form or another. Time could only tell. But for now, she was content to lay back in her seat and let the Replicade carry her out into the dark, and hopefully towards peace.