Against A Rock

by Kalin Ringkvist

  “I want to get you to a doctor first,” said Mahran.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “You’re going to throw me out the airlock…”

  Floreina awoke slightly. “Why would you think that?”

  “…because you keep looking at the door and the airlock controls,” he replied. “You’re injured, Ma’am. I’m concerned, and I don’t know what to think – I’m sorry for suggesting this – but please let me get you to a doctor now, and I'll come back and clean out the airlock immediately.”

  Floreina instinctively went for her pistol. As she did so, she realized just how slow she was moving.

  Mahran dove forward, seeming like a blur compared to her own movements. He snatched the second sidearm from the counter.

  Before she could even unlatch her holster, she heard the gun powering up.

  Mahran held the pistol to his side, pointed downward. Floreina stopped her own attempt at retrieving her weapon, and gave a weak shrug. “Looks like you got me,” she said. “What exactly do you think you’re going to do with that?”

  But she looked up into her slave’s eyes, and saw a child-like terror. “Please, Master,” he pleaded. “Don’t make me do anything…” His lips trembled as he spoke. “I just want to get you to a doctor. Please… I don’t want to hurt you… Please, Ma’am, I just want things to go back to the way they were. I’ll take you to the doctor; I’ll come back and dispose of the stains and put the guns in a locker… and we never speak of this again… please… you don’t need to kill me.”

  Mahran shook noticeably, his face red, the weapon still pointed at the ground, obviously not willing to take the final blasphemous step and actually point it. If Floreina had been in normal shape, she would have no problem drawing her weapon and terminating him before he could react. But that would also leave another body to explain.

  Her implant reminded her that she needed to get to a medic. Floreina breathed heavily and glared. Frustrated and torn, part of her wanted to send the slave to a tortuous death in the disciplinary center but another part understood.

  He was protecting his own existence, like a self-centered Minmatar, but trying to do so in the least blasphemous way possible.

  “Fine,” she conceded. “Get me to the doctor.” And Floreina cringed.

  …outwitted by a Minmatar… forced to agree to his plans… unable to carry herself on her own two feet, or even crawl across the floor…

  Pathetic.

  But she resigned, forcing the emotions back. No one would ever know. The visual recordings had been turned off, and Mahran could be terminated later… if necessary.

  He came forward and took her weapon, and though he walked sheepishly and cautiously, clearly out of place and unfamiliar with this kind of dominance, Floreina looked up at him as a child to an angry teacher.

  Through his jumpsuit she absently followed the lines of his muscles, toned through years of hard labor.

  Mahran powered down the other pistol and quickly slid both weapons across the floor into the airlock. He wasted no time in moving back to Floreina to lift her into his arms.

  She shouted briefly as her leg bounced against him. Floreina held back her scolding though; she knew pains like that were unavoidable.

  As Mahran moved swiftly down the long corridors toward the hidden slave departments, Floreina came to realize just how reasonable he had been.

  “You know I had no intention of killing you,” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am… I’m so stupid sometimes… I panicked… I understand any punishment you want to give me, but please… please don’t terminate me… if you give me a chance…” he continued in a whisper, “no one will ever know… I don’t even know… ”

  “No,” she comforted. “No one’s getting terminated… you’re going to be rewarded… if you get that… stuff… taken care of… greaty, greatly rewarded.”

  Strangely, Floreina started to feel comfortable. He’d get her to the medic, get the remainder of the blood cleaned up, and go on keeping his mouth shut. She rested against his shoulder. It was rare to be this close to a Minmatar, but somehow it felt more comforting than dirty, and when she closed her eyes, Mahran could be just a big person… a man, who, for one reason or another, had her best interests in mind.

  And she slipped into an unfamiliar realm of acceptance, of helplessness, and of strange comfort in those feelings, and she forgot about her physical reality, placing her trust in her Minmatar property.

  ______ ______ ______

  She dreamt of her father. Mostly vague images, and quick snippets of her childhood beside him in their manufacturing line, producing frequency crystals, then later coming to visit him on the cruiser where he oversaw a repair team.

  He gave her advice. “Keep your wits about you,” he would say. “You’ve got a lot to do when you get up.”

  ______ ______ ______

  She awoke in a deep sadness. “Daddy!” she exclaimed softly.

  She looked around, seeing the slave hospital she recognized from a couple previous visits. But noting her safety somehow made her feel worse.

  Floreina prayed, closing her eyes, focusing on the spiritual realm, blanking her mind, calming, and simultaneously searching for The Great Spirit, to allow His guidance. So many feelings at once… she didn’t know what to take seriously, so she tried to sink into the Lord’s embrace, to allow Him to guide her feelings.

  After a time she relaxed. She had done right, and all would be okay.

  As her prayer finished, the Minmatar doctor approached. “Master, Floreina…” He saluted formally. “You had a concussion, a shattered fibula and a large collection of medication in your system. It looks like your implant malfunctioned. Do you remember anything, Master?”

  She shook her head slowly. “I remember a falling door…”

  “Mahran told me that you contacted him accidentally and he tracked you down and found you crawling around. He said you were disoriented… couldn’t remember who you were… Do you remember any of this?”

  She shook her head. “Not really,” she replied.

  “Mahran told me to keep everything secret…” He coughed deliberately. “So no one else has been made aware of your situation. The crew thinks that you ran away… but… of course… my obligation is to Captain Allihence… and I’m really supposed to report this sort of thing…”

  Floreina nodded. “Get me to a mental interface,” she said. “If I still have access to my account, I'll get you a handful of luxury coupons for your silence.”

  He nodded. “Thank you, Master Floreina.”

  It took several long moments for him to wheel Floreina’s bed across the office to the computer interface.

  She hooked herself to the system and quickly found her account, still in operation. Allihence had not terminated her employment, and Floreina imagined her playing along with the search efforts, no doubt pretending to be as clueless and concerned as the rest of the crew.

  Floreina transferred a set of luxury coupons to the slave’s profile.

  “Thank you,” he bowed again. “Would you like me to leave you alone now?”

  She nodded. “Thank you, son.”

  He turned away as she entered the ship’s computer system, cloaking her emotions in a torrent of random data.

  Her stomach tightened as she found the person she needed to deal with.

  Captain Allihence, Floreina greeted privately.

  Allihence pulled away from everything else as she made a startled response. Well look who figured out how to survive…

  Yeah… Floreina replied, not bothering to hide the bitterness of her thoughts.

  So everyone's baffled by your disappearance, Allihence laughed nervously.

  Yeah, I’m a little baffled myself.

  Would an apology make things better… I acted in the heat of the moment, and I’m sorry.

  Uh-huh… Floreina couldn’t think of where to start.

  I’m glad you chose to keep quiet about this… take the
blackmail route instead of the vengeance route. So what’s it going to be, Commander? A nice severance package and we go our separate ways?

  I want a hundred thousand, Floreina said flatly.

  That’s not happening.

  You’re worth billions. It’s nothing to you.

  It’s the principle of it, replied the captain. I don’t let people take advantage of me.

  What about the principle of not killing Amarrians? Floreina countered. I know we’ve had our differences, Captain, but I have always been loyal to you. And you know that if we had been in a real fleet battle, I would have stood by my post until the very end… but we weren’t in a fleet… we were killing belt pirates… rats. She paused for nearly a second. This ship was my home… and my life… until today I felt like my mind fit with you and this crew like a piece in a puzzle…

  Would you like to stay on board? asked Allihence suddenly.

  And Floreina paused a long moment. I wasn’t expecting that. You tried to kill me a few hours ago…

  … but since then I’ve been thinking a little more clearly… Plus, you’ve impressed me with your resourcefulness… and reminded me of some of the reasons I hired you…

  And Floreina paused another long moment to feel the captain’s presence, sensing her unexpected change in attitude. Capsuleers could be an interesting breed. With cloning and brain-scan technology so advanced that most considered themselves immortal, they could have very interesting and inconsistent ideas about death.

  So strangely enough, the captain seemed genuine in her desire to keep Floreina as though nothing had happened, like it were simply another random argument between boss and employee.

  I assure you, Floreina, your father was an accident. Of that you have my word as one Amarrian to another. I never thought that would happen.

  I know… Floreina replied.

  And you love this ship, Floreina, the captain prodded jokingly. Being a part of something larger than yourself… to put your life on the line for the glory of our Lord… you know all those safe and comfortable factory managers and housewives… they don’t feel what you and I feel… They don’t get that excitement… that force of life and God that we feel out here in the stars as we fight for what’s right…

  And the captain laughed mentally, the emotion carrying a double edge for Floreina. It felt comforting, fulfilling her with the sudden, relieving knowledge that the captain was not going to try to kill her again. But on the other hand, the captain’s enjoyment of the situation betrayed a cold reality of capsuleers. Life and death was a joke to them, something to be taken or given on a whim.

  And like a battered corpse on the side of the highway, the attitude held a twisted appeal, and, fascinated, Floreina could not look away.

  ______ ______ ______

  Floreina raised her legs carefully as the airlock opened and she stepped into the vastness of space. Her boots clamped to the surface with each step, their magnetic soles adjusting to hold to the surface. As the gravity well passed, her stomach curled, but corrected itself as soon as her entire body was weightless.

  The airlock closed behind her and Floreina took a deep breath as she looked through the gleaming faceplate down the length of the Abaddon.

  She walked casually along the surface for several minutes before powering up the grapple gun on her left wrist. She fired the tool toward the surface and a tiny drone disconnected from her arm, linked to her wrist by a thin nanotube cord. The drone propelled gently down to connect with the ship and engaged its magnetic clamps.

  Tugging on the line, Floreina tested the strength, then knelt to shut off her boots and leap from the surface of the ship.

  Floreina sailed outward, The Angel slowly coming into view. Her body spun and the universe turned. She floated outward, relaxing into the weightlessness and allowing the ship and crew to fade from her thoughts.

  And finally, after unraveling the cord for nearly a kilometer, Floreina stopped, and allowed her life to dangle behind the great warship.

  Floreina closed her eyes and entered her implant, running around the systems before coming back to her sensory processors. She shut down her hearing and vision, and entered a realm of silent blackness. Next, she shut off her processor connection.

  And Floreina was alone with God. No more distractions.

  She floated, feeling the warmth of the emptiness, and the contrasting depth and power of The Lord.

  All she could think of was her father. The funeral had been difficult… to make a speech about something that can’t possibly be put into words…

  But somehow she did not feel devastated. Even after such a short time, she knew she could go on. She would be back to work in a day and would be as strong and commanding as ever. And in a way, that felt wrong. Miltein had built her into everything she was, and to simply go on with her life was somehow blasphemous…

  And it left Floreina with question after question…

  Dear God, she prayed. What am I doing here? Where am I going? What is the point to this?

  And God answered with visions and feelings. Her father was there, watching over her, as though at the Lord’s side. She saw the church in the station where she grew up; the songs they would sing, the smell of the incense, the random hugs, the cries of joy, and the endless songs.

  Her life flashed before her eyes, as though telling a story, through her lonely yet loving childhood, with a deceased mother and a father who did his best to compensate, to her teenage obsession with mindlink competitions, the military training and her four-year affair with her ex-lover, Viotro and the black-market sub-culture he introduced her to; her humiliating failure in the capsuleer training, and the process of building herself back up, manipulating her position to join Allihence’s crew and subsequently experiencing one empowering success after another.

  Floreina felt herself crying. But that was okay.

  The story is only beginning, the Lord comforted. She felt His presence through all her experiences, and could not help smiling. Joy would always outweigh the sorrow… Despite all the things that had gone wrong, Floreina had experienced a truly joyous life…

  Nay!… sayeth the Lord… The joy of life is not despite the hardships and failures…

  …but because of them.

  Because every human needs flaws… every plan needs problems… every relationship needs tension… and every life needs hardships…

  All the pleasures and leisure we think we love are nothing more than filler chapters as we wait for the real story.

  And Floreina thought about her father. He was gone now, and as sad as that was, she recognized she did not feel bad. Like an epic love story, all her sadness intensified the holoreel that was her life.

  Dear Lord, that's the secret… she prayed. Thank you for this wisdom… I realize what the heathens will never understand… there's beauty and magic in all things great and horrible…

  And in a separate part of Floreina’s mind, for a split second, she saw the vision of the careless criminals and their Exile Boosters.

  Dear Lord, you just told me the secret to happiness… She paused to chuckle. You never cease to amaze me.

  ______ ______ ______

  Sitting alone in a tiny tavern in the depths of the slums of The Theology Council Tribunal in orbit around Toshabia’s first planet, Floreina sniffed the air, smelling of spilled beer and over-roasted meat.

  She glanced around the barroom, automatically accessing histories on everyone, searching for anyone out of place who might be here for purposes other than drinking. She felt her eyelids blinking, as though in slow motion, and felt the mild adrenaline and nervousness deep in her stomach as she thought about meeting this man with whom she would plan a crime.

  It should feel bad, but somehow she felt right at home in that sense of danger, and felt a deeper confidence that she could pull through it and laugh at it.

  From the other side of the bar, she saw her mark. He noticed her and gave a questioning look. She replied with a barely noticeable flip
of her chin, and he walked to her table.

  This was it. The discussion today would determine if she could even attempt her plan.

  She stood and gave a dainty handshake while maintaining a cold, analytical stare. Her heart pumped and she smiled as the negotiations began.

  ______ ______ ______

  Floreina fell onto her bed and relaxed after her evening workout. She sighed, worn out, but content. She turned on an entertainment screen set into the far wall, to watch some comedy, telling herself only ten minutes before getting up to take a shower.

  But after a few minutes the door chimed.

  “Come in,” Floreina answered.

  Mahran entered and stopped.

  “Hi Buddy,” said Floreina. “You’re here late today…”

  “I’m sorry about that, Master… lots of new duties with the promotion… Would you like me to get started cleaning, or would you like me to leave you alone?”

  She paused. “Actually neither,” she replied. “You deserve a break. Tonight I want you to just hang out for a while. I need to take a shower, then I want to sit and talk with you.” She stood up. “Why don’t you grab a beer from the fridge?”

  Mahran stood. “…Okay…” he started nervously. “I haven’t had Vitoc in a couple days… I'm afraid if I have a drink without getting a hit, it might make me sick.”

  “So go grab a dose,” she replied, walking toward the bathroom. “Bring it back and take it here. I’ll be out of the shower by the time you get back.”

  He nodded nervously. “Yes, Ma’am.” He turned back toward the door.

  And she began to undress just as Mahran exited. She watched through the mirror as Mahran stole a quick look.

  She grinned. He was already her most valuable possession. She owned him in a legal sense—at least by Amarrian law—but wanted him to be hers on a deeper level, to gain greater things from him… things that weren’t as easy with simple punishment/reward structures.

  He was a good slave: smart, strong, handsome, and most importantly, obedient. He wasn’t stupid enough to care about avoiding humiliation, realizing it was in his best interest to do nothing but feed the desires of his master.