Supernova

by Jessica Marting

  “I was hoping there would at least be some newspapers archived here,” she said.

  “What’s a newspaper?”

  “They’re like your news clips and vids,” she explained. “Only they’re printed, and you bought them from a news box or a corner store with change.”

  “And how often were they printed?”

  “Daily.”

  Daily printed news matter. “Your homes must have been full of them.”

  “No,” she said. “You put it in the recycling when you were finished with it.”

  Rian was incredulous. “Let me get this straight. Every day, you would print an entire book you’d throw away after reading it?” Lily nodded. “What a waste of resources. No wonder Earthlings left.”

  “Now you can see why I was surprised to find out that Earth didn’t accidentally blow itself up.” She kept her eyes on the console as she pulled some more information, but she was smiling. “I think that’s it.” He showed her how to disconnect the datakey, and they left the library.

  * * *

  They were the only ones in the lift back to the barracks deck—unsurprising, since most of the Defiant’s crew was probably living it up on station while they still had the chance. Lily was quiet, likely contemplating her assumed fate on Earth.

  He stole a glance at her. She was looking at the floor. Involuntarily, he reached for her hand. Strictly as a gesture of support, he told himself. She curled her fingers in his and stepped closed, raising her face to meet his level.

  All thoughts, all pretences of being professional around her were sucked out the airlock when she looked at him like that. He kissed her hard, backing her up against the lift’s wall. He felt a murmur of surprise against his mouth and realized he’d caught her off-guard. Her hands found his shoulders and pulled him closer, and her lips parted. Her tongue met his eagerly and he groaned, pressing against her. The lift’s pinging between decks registered as loudly as red alert sirens, and his hand blindly groped the wall for the emergency brake. The lift squeaked as it halted, giving them a bare few minutes alone before he had to restart it or risk being caught by a maintenance crew.

  Rian kissed her like a man starved, unable to suppress his gasp when she pulled his shirt from his waistband and let hands explore the contours of his back. Her touch was electrifying, but jolted him back to reality. Quickly he sprang away, breathing heavily. He pressed a button and the lift whirred back to life. “Apologies,” he said.

  “What for?” She had a dazed look on her face, a look he had caused. Despite everything, he couldn’t help feeling a little masculine pride at the sight. Desire roared back to life once more.

  “That was inappropriate on my part,” he admitted, tucking his shirt back in.

  “What about mine?”

  She had him there.

  The lift doors opened. He stood at near-perfect military stance, fully expecting to see Admiral Kentz or Lieutenant Steg, or, gods forbid, Ensign Shraft waiting to step on, but no one was there. Rian silently offered a prayer of thanks to the gods and presumed he was at the end of this week’s quota of luck.

  He walked her through the corridor to her door as though he were in the academy, escorting his date back home after a night of beer and horror vids. She leaned up and kissed the skin below his ear, and his pulse quickened. “You could come in,” she murmured into his ear. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

  That thought had entered his mind, too, and he nearly accepted. He wanted to, but he couldn’t, especially not here. “That’s not a good idea,” he whispered regretfully. It wasn’t just what Lily was; it was the station itself. He caught her hurt look and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Please believe me. I want to.”

  “So then come in. Just so you know, I was going to make you some tea.”

  He smiled at that. “We both know neither of us wants tea. It’s just that here and now—it’s not a good idea. Our locations are traceable, and neither of us needs more hassle from Fleet.”

  She muttered something derogatory about Fleet.

  He kissed her in reply, and let her go at the sound of voices coming off the lift. “Good night,” he whispered. The voices came closer. “Departure at 0730 tomorrow,” he said.

  She mock-saluted him. “See you tomorrow, Captain.”

  Chapter 9

  The Defiant stayed in orbit around Rubidge Station for another day after her crew returned, and Lily watched it through the viewports sometimes. It was the size of a small planet, rust-colored, with constant traffic and ships leaching off its lower decks.

  She tried to make her cabin a little homier. She had some clothes to put away and was pleasantly surprised to find a stack of towels waiting for her when the crew was permitted to board the Defiant. She also found a new tablet computer with a matching stylus and a datakey that contained her texts for the pharm tech training, the history of Fleet and some star charts, information she was now downloading to her datatab. Everything she would need to know to fit in Commons space. She had a good idea of who left everything, and it warmed her heart.

  She felt like an idiot over what happened on their last night on Rubidge. Not over what happened in the elevator, but what happened next. She hadn’t seen Rian except in corridors since they returned to the ship a couple of days prior and hadn’t had a chance to explain that propositioning men wasn’t a habit of hers. But as she had learned in the last couple of weeks, life was nothing but a series of firsts. She had hoped he would take her up on her invitation and had been sorely disappointed when he turned back into the distant captain; now he probably thought her to be some kind of slutty opportunist. Or worse, he thought her reaction to him was rooted in psychological trauma and he was needlessly playing the overprotective hero.

  Except he wasn’t—not really. His kiss in the elevator had told her as much.

  Only Lily Stewart could travel 850 years into the future, meet someone like him, and have him reject her because he didn’t think she was really attracted to him.

  The files finished unpacking into her datatab. She scrolled through them with a fingertip and touched the heading Commonwealth Galactic Academy Pharmaceutical Technician Program: Introduction and brought up a note that Rian had obviously attached to the file. After some careful reading, she was able to translate it:

  Just so you know, I wanted that cup of tea. R.

  She sighed like a high school girl receiving her first love letter, and wondered where he was. Probably learning how the new things on the Defiant worked; half the crew had spent the last two days crawling around tunnels and playing with new programs. Especially Taz, who was immediately caught trying to transport one body part at a time into another part of the ship.

  She opened a file and began reading about Earth’s history since her kidnapping. There had been a world war in what would have been her lifetime, and two more before an uneasy truce was declared across most of Earth shortly before mass interplanetary immigration began. Still, no one had accidentally detonated a nuclear weapon or unleashed a zombie virus on mankind. She was relieved to discover than the human race hadn’t turned out to be as stupid as she had anticipated. In 2092, for instance, Earth’s depletion of fresh water had dwindled enough so a new water sterilization procedure had been implemented in what had once been India. The technology was cheap, portable, and could purify just about anything. It had been essential for what eventually turned into an intergalactic space travel alliance between India, Egypt, and Pakistan, who initially colonized three small uninhabited planets a galaxy away from Earth twenty-five years later.

  Well, that was a surprise. Lily wouldn’t have put her money on any of those countries in the space race. Shortly after their successful expeditions, a joint American-Chinese venture followed suit, setting up the first commercial sectors. She couldn’t help but giggle at the idea of buying spare parts for the family spaceship.

  The Earth-bound population had been reduced to less than three billion by the time the new colonies formed
the Commonwealth in 2220, and that number had been halved when the Kurrans made contact in 2280. The Commonwealth had been keeping an eye on the Kurran corner of the galaxy for several years. They had debated whether or not to extend an olive branch, unsure if they were friendly or not. Most of the colonies were unprepared for a war. She bookmarked articles on them to read later.

  She closed the history file and opened the first text of for her pharmacy training. It looked straightforward enough, something she could complete on her own in a few weeks, with a few exams she would have to write before beginning practical training in a pharmacy. She would have to ask someone about a couple of machines mentioned in the outline; someone in the infirmary could help if they weren’t too busy. The whole ship had been busy since leaving Rubidge, poking around the new machinery and fine-tuning it to their specifications.

  The intercom beside the cabin door pinged, and Rian’s voice said, “All available crew, conference hall in ten minutes.”

  Was she supposed to go, too? She tapped her comm badge hesitantly, still wary of it. “Captain Marska?” Nothing happened, so she tried again. “Stewart to Captain Marska.”

  That did the trick. “Marska here. I’m expecting you in the conference hall, too,” he said quietly.

  “I’ll be there.” She slipped the Fleet-issued med-assistant smock over her black blouse and pants and left her cabin.

  She figured out how to get to the conference hall and paused in its doorway, looking for some kind of order. She saw a sea of uniforms mingling with one another, taking seats at random places, so she looked for a familiar face. She spotted Taz waving at her and looking like hell. There was an odd odor in here, coming off more than a few crew members who also looked like they had been out carousing with Taz.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, looking up at his bloodshot eyes. She discreetly breathed through her mouth.

  “I will be once I get a decent night’s sleep. I’ve been on the go since the last night on station, and I haven’t had a chance to recover from the hangover. Where were you, anyway?”

  “Reading in my cabin,” she lied.

  “I was looking for you,” he said. “We went to the White Dwarf. You should’ve been there. Kostin destroyed himself and got on the stage with one of the dancers. It was spectacular. We got it on vid before the club manager kicked us out. His girlfriend is so pissed off.”

  “I don’t know Kostin, his girlfriend, or what the White Dwarf is.”

  “First officer, navigation second-in-command, and a strip joint.”

  “While seeing green alien space tits sounds interesting in theory, strip clubs aren’t really my cup of tea.”

  “You don’t get green alien space tits on Rubidge,” Taz insisted. “Commons space is mostly humanoid. Besides, the White Dwarf has guys, too.”

  “Taz, while I support everyone doing what makes them happy, do I seem like someone goes to strip clubs? Really, tell me.” She crossed her arms and arched one eyebrow at him dramatically.

  “You said you wanted to try new things!”

  “I was thinking along the lines of replicators and space shuttles and things I didn’t have at home.”

  Whatever rejoinder Taz could have offered was cut off by Admiral Kentz calling the room to order. Rian stood beside him. What was Kentz doing here?

  The admiral offered an insincere welcome to the science team aboard and detailed the Defiant’s repairs and upgrades. It was officially on par with other patrol ships, eliciting snickers among the crew and a tight-lipped smile from the captain. A lab had been set up to allow the science team to set up shop temporarily before their mission, where they could grow crystals of some kind, Lily deduced, in peace. Some kind of secretive weaponry in the making. Her mind drifted back to her datatab. She should have brought it with her.

  “Our other security issue is the custody of our time traveler,” Kentz said, and her ears perked up.

  “You all know by now that an unnamed Fleet ship ended up with a Nym kidnapping victim from ancient times,” he continued, as though there could possibly be anyone aboard who didn’t know Lily by now. “Battleships are attempting to infiltrate Nym space and investigate, and we’ve managed to keep the details of the victim out of the media.”

  Several dozen pairs of eyes swiveled in Lily’s direction. She shifted in her seat but met them. “Howdy,” she said. A ripple of laughter spread through the conference hall. Kentz glowered in her direction.

  “You all know she’s here, and Fleet is pleased to see that everyone has remembered our policies on intel containment and confidentiality. None of the other ships are aware of her presence.” Lily wondered what he meant by their policies. She had skimmed over that part in the Fleet history module in her texts. He continued. “She’ll remain here for the time being and will eventually settle in a Fleet-controlled environment.”

  “As a pharm tech,” Lily piped up.

  “Yes, Captain Marska suggested that occupation.” He turned to the rest of the crew. “Obviously, her returning to the twenty-first century is out of the question due to the Commons’ long-standing positions on time travel and the possibility of altering history.”

  Lily shivered. She had never thought her return in those terms before. But how could she alter the course of history? She had been a receptionist.

  She looked at the faces trained on her and caught Rian’s gaze. His azure eyes were full of want, the same look he had outside her barracks door on station. Heat coursed through her, and she forced herself to look away, hoping no one noticed.

  Kentz cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him. “Miss Stewart is cooperating fully with Fleet,” he said. “And we’re going to find out exactly what the Nym are up to. No other time travelers have shown up, but if the Nym have been going back and forth between centuries, they must be stopped. The time continuum as it has already occurred must not be changed.”

  Lily got the message. A receptionist probably couldn’t do much damage on her own, but a receptionist with evil alien scientists and a space army on her tail could. The ramifications boggled her mind.

  Kentz re-emphasized the importance of security and secrecy, and urged the crew not to pester her. They hadn’t in the first place—the questions she had received had been curious and respectful, with more than a few awed looks when she described cars and airplanes—but Kentz’s instruction made her feel a little lonelier. Taz and Mora still had jobs to do, after all, and she wasn’t sure where she stood with Rian.

  When they were finally dismissed, Lily kept her head down and headed for her cabin. She toyed with the idea of going to the mess, but she wasn’t hungry. She resigned herself to a quiet evening tackling the first module of the pharmacy program and watching a couple of episodes of Lightning’s Luck, a TV show Mora recommended.

  Taz caught up to her, reeking of that alcoholic odor she had noticed earlier. She must have made a face because he asked, “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  Realization dawned on his face. “Oh, you’re noticing the smell. We were drinking tambith whiskey at the White Dwarf. I took a shower this morning, just so you know.” He raised his arm and sniffed. “Damn. No wonder communications smells like death. You have to sweat it out. At least I’m not the only one who stinks.”

  “I noticed.”

  He changed the subject. “So, where are you going?” he asked.

  “My cabin; where else?”

  “I’m off shift at 1900 hours today. I was thinking I could teach you to shoot. I’m as good at handling a laser weapon as I am at coding and hacking.”

  “Taz, the idea of you handling a gun scares the hell out of me.” They stepped in a line waiting for the lift.

  “I didn’t shoot you when you woke up in the cargo hold, remember?” he pressed. “And you were making sudden movements.”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “What sudden movements? I was drugged and could barely move.”

  “A dead body crawling out of a coffin, no matter how sl
owly, qualifies as a huge fucking sudden movement.”

  The surrounding crew was listening to their exchange and responded with a wave of laughter. A throat cleared behind Lily and Taz, who whirled around to face Rian and Admiral Kentz. The admiral peered at Taz’s insignia.

  “Watch your language, Ensign...” He paused.

  “Shraft,” Rian finished. But he was looking at Lily, his face set in rigid, professional lines but his eyes sending her a look of naked need that made her blush.

  “Apologies, sir,” said Taz. The lift doors opened, and he followed a bunch of communications officers into it. “So, Lily, 1900 hours? Meet me in security.”

  * * *

  Rian breathed a sigh of relief when Admiral Kentz’s shuttle left the Defiant. The admiral would return to Rubidge Station before transferring to a ship that would take him to Fleet headquarters on Commons Prime, far away from where he could waste the time of Rian and his crew.

  He returned to his office off the bridge and was pleased that the replicator spit out a cup of tea instead of something sludgy and green. He brought up all the classified files Kentz had transferred to his office computer and took a moment to stew before delving into them. There really had been no need for the admiral to gather half the crew to tell them something they already knew and remind them of policies that had been drilled into them on their first day of basic training. Idly he wondered how someone like Kentz had ended up in his position. During his walk-through of the ship, he had taken control of a navigation console from Lieutenant Asmo and nearly changed the ship’s course. Rian and Asmo had readjusted the direction under Kentz’s irritated look.