The security officer nodded, and said, “When I was a kid, we didn’t have any money, but my third-rate hand terminal was loaded with first-rate old movies. It wasn’t ’til later that I learned Howard-Prime was the one who put them there. Have you ever seen the old Marvel Universe movies?”
Sorenson’s eyes widened and she said, “My cloud library was filled with them, too.”
Misha sighed, “Fucking Howard. Anyway, what you just talked about…Howard-Prime called it my spidey-sense.” She narrowed her eyes at Sorenson. “Was New Orleans one of the times I almost got caught?”
Linnea nodded. “Saint Louis cemetery. They were waiting for you there. You were hired to find a young boy who had supposedly gone missing. The person who hired you to find their brother was one of Kimetrev’s men.”
Misha gave an involuntary shiver and said, “Damn, Sorenson, I thought someone had walked over my grave. I’d never felt such overwhelming dread in my entire life.” The young woman said nothing and simply waited quietly until Misha asked, “What was the second promise?”
“That I deliver a message.”
The color drained from Misha’s face and she pressed her hands to her stomach. Sokolov stared at her sister for a long time, then inhaled deeply. “Okay,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, “I’m ready.”
Linnea shook her head and squeezed Misha’s hand once, then took two steps back. She began to fade into shadow. “It’s a private message. I locked it away from everyone, including myself, but I’m glad to finally be able to fulfill such a weighty promise. Call to me when you’re done and I’ll return. Take all the time you need.”
Misha shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand, what—” She broke off as a hand slipped into her own. Sokolov turned and felt her throat tighten and tears began to stream down her cheeks.
“It’s good to see you, big sister,” said Tatiana, “There’s something I want you to know.”
Misha didn’t know how long she had been sitting alone in the darkness before calling Linnea’s name. It could have been seconds or days. Raw emotions coursed through her and she didn’t even attempt to exert any control over them. That was dangerous, Misha knew. Her whole life had been about harnessing the physical power that could kill just as easily as it could protect. Still, she reasoned, if Linnea’s dreamscape couldn’t protect her from doing harm in the waking world, nothing could. Misha heard the communications officer’s footfalls and snickered softly. “Afraid you might startle me into harming you?” she asked.
Sorenson circled around from the right and sat cross-legged just in front of Misha. “Your sister finished,” said Linnea. It wasn’t a question, but Misha nodded anyway. “I’m sorry,” whispered the younger woman.
“Don’t be. Please, don’t ever be sorry for bringing my sister back to me, if only for a little while.” Misha shook her head. “I don’t blame you for not delivering the message before now. Hell, I’ve been such a bitch to you. I’m surprised you just didn’t delete it. I probably would have.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” said Linnea, “and how you acted or didn’t act had no bearing on my responsibility to your sister. I just didn’t know how or when was the right time. The captain knew. I guess that’s why she’s the captain.”
“She knew about Tatiana and you?” asked Misha.
“No,” replied Linnea, “which just makes her intuition even more freakishly on point.”
Sokolov gave a sigh and smiled, “Yeah, you should have seen her kill all of us in the test simulation Howard-Prime created. That was special.”
“I bet it was,” said Linnea and started laughing. Misha stared at her for a second, then joined her and the laughter became a chorus.
After their burst of emotion faded to contented sighs Misha reached out her hands and the young woman accepted them in her own. “Thank you, and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”
Linnea nodded and squeezed. “You are welcome and there is nothing to forgive.”
“Yes there is, but thanks for that too,” whispered Misha, then added, “Want to know a secret?” Sorenson gave her a grin. “I’m gonna kill that fucking bastard, Kimetrev, and everyone who even thought about working for him.”
“No you aren’t,” said Linnea.
“The Captain will let me. I know she will.”
“No she wouldn’t, but that’s not why you won’t do it.”
Misha drew her mouth to a line, “Then why?”
“Because I already killed them all.”
“You what!”
Linnea closed her eyes as if trying to block a memory, then said, “When Michael died, and his connection to me was severed, something snapped inside my mind. Everything went white. People say things go black, but they’re wrong, and white is worse.”
“What happened?” asked Misha.
Linnea shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure. If I were to use some kind of sci-fi hand-wavery explanation, I’d say it was a psionic blast born of exceptional trauma.”
“Did their heads explode, like in Scanners?” asked Misha hopefully.
Linnea snorted. “No, but that would have been great. They just looked like puppets with their strings cut. At least two dozen men and women lay collapsed around me. They mostly just looked surprised.”
Misha slapped the younger woman’s knee and she looked up quizzically. “Fuck’s sake, you are a little blonde wrecking machine. Can you do it again?”
“Yeah, probably, all I need is someone to kill another man I love,” said Linnea bitterly.
“Ok, I’m clearly an asshole,” offered Misha, but Sorenson shook her head.
“No, you aren’t. Well, you are, but not because of this. You are just being you and hoping one of your crewmates has a destructive superpower you could leverage. I don’t and you can’t.”
“That’s disappointing,” said Misha.
Sorenson nodded her head in agreement, then asked, “Ready to get out of here?”
“Yeah, by the way, how long have we been in your mind’s little darkland?”
“From their perspective, just a few seconds. It’s like a dream. Time acts funny, at the speed of thought. I imagine it’s kind of like how Coleman may experience it. I’ll bring us out now.”
“Wait, one more thing,” said Misha. The telepath’s lips quirked up slightly, as the Russian shot her a sly smile and added, “I’m still going to call you Barbie.”
Linnea stood, then extended a hand to the security officer who grasped it warmly. “Oh, I know, because,” She hoisted Misha up, then pointed to herself and smiled, “I’m psychic.”
Chapter 20
A Time to Regroup
Linnea lowered her hand as the real world reasserted itself. The two women stared at each other for several beats. Tears welled up in Misha’s eyes and she pulled the younger woman into a tight embrace. The security officer spoke softly to Sorenson and she nodded.
James stood with a piece of lasagna still halfway to his mouth. He set down his fork and turned to Omandi. “What the hell is going on? Two seconds ago, I thought Misha was going to turn our youngest crewman into a greasy Norwegian spot. Now they are slobbering over each other like two long-lost sisters. And who is Tatiana?”
“None of your fucking business,” said Sokolov. She pointed at Branson. “And I suggest you stop eavesdropping on other people’s conversations before I turn you into a greasy Irish spot.”
The navigator stepped back from the table and raised both hands. “Whoa, what the hell did I do? You can just simmer down there, Marja Morevna.”
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” asked Misha.
“Who is Marja—” began Linnea.
“She’s a deadly warrior queen from Russian folklore,” interjected Damien. “James, is unwisely provoking someone who could literally rip out his heart while it’s still beating,” added the android, as he reached into the pan of lasagna and pinched off a large piece. He stared at it a moment, shrugged, then popped it in his mouth. “Oh,
my God,” he managed around the mouthful, “I have memories of this, but it’s entirely different to experience the real thing.”
Misha shot a dangerous look toward James who paled slightly, but Charlotte stood and all eyes followed her. “I’m going to need a full report on this facility’s capabilities by tomorrow morning but I also want everyone well rested.” She tapped at her hand terminal then made a swiping gesture. Beeps rang out as all the terminals chimed in recognition of what Omandi had done. “I’ve synchronized our terminal clocks because God knows what time it really is and He’d probably have to check to be sure.” She tapped and swiped again, creating more chimes. “I’ve set a timer for three hours and assigned each of you a different area of this station. Master your area as best you can and we’ll reconvene in the morning. When that timer goes off, immediately stop what you’re doing and go get some sleep. Tomorrow will be another big day.”
“Wait, what’s happening tomorrow, and can I have just thirty-seconds to adjust to Damien being human?” asked James.
“I am not, strictly speaking, human,” replied Damien. “Technically, I’d say, android would be most applicable.”
Linnea walked over and gave him a hug, then kissed his cheek. “So, you are like Data from Star Trek? He was always my favorite.”
Charlotte shook her head at Sorenson and sighed. “You too? It seems that Howard-Prime did a good job making sure all of us were well grounded in the pop culture that inspired his personal world-building.”
“I do remember that being one of his key motivators,” said Damien. “He thought such a common framework would allow the crew to more readily assimilate into what he assumed would be a rather difficult societal construct.” The android paused, then noted how Misha had been staring at him with an odd intensity. “Something I can do for you, Lieutenant?”
“Hmm, oh, no. Sorry, I was just wondering something.”
He smiled. “Go ahead.”
“Well,” she said, “I mean, just how fully functioning are you?”
He gave her an evil grin, “Fully…fully functioning. Care for a demonstration?”
“Demonstration of what? I’m lost,” asked Linnea.
“So innocent,” mocked James, then added, “Who the hell had you locked up, and where?”
“Shut your mouth, Branson,” growled Misha.
“It’s fine,” soothed Linnea, “I am a bit out of touch and was confused because Damien doesn’t give off any of the non-verbal cues I’m used to. It almost seemed his comment was sexual, but that didn’t seem right.”
“It certainly wasn’t right,” said Omandi, “and isn’t anything I think we have time for right now.”
“Ohhh,” murmured Linnea, then furrowed her brow at the android. “So, given that Howard-Prime designed you, how much like the fictional Data are you?”
“He didn’t design me, well, he kind of designed my mind, but not my body. Nerr’ath’s people did that. They have technology that allows organic minds to be housed in artificial bodies. My mind and personality started out very much like I remember Howard-Prime being, but this new body has just accelerated the growing differences between us. As for my body, it was constructed by forming complex amino acids into stem cells. Those cells were then gestated much as human babies are, just at an accelerated pace.”
“Sorry, not following at all,” she said apologetically.
Damien smiled. “Think of it this way. My body is a lot less like Data’s and a lot more like replicant bodies in Bladerunner or Cylon bodies in Battlestar Gallactica. It’s almost entirely organic. I’d likely pass some pretty rigorous MRIs at most hospitals although the doctors there might be perplexed by a few organ placements.”
“Nobody minds if I finish this, do they?” asked Branson, then proceeded to eat directly from the lasagna pan before anyone could respond. He looked up, swallowed half a mouthful, and said, “You realize the androids from both Bladerunner and BSG were all murderous bastards, right?”
“Stop,” said Charlotte with a chuckle, “much as I’d enjoy the forthcoming debate on whether Damien will become a murderous bastard, each of you has an assignment. Get to it. Oh, and if you need access to anything in particular, or get lost, just ask Coleman for help. The entire station is fitted with holographic emitters, and I’ve instructed him to accept command requests from each of you.” She gave James a wry smile, then added, “Those requests will be logged, and access level is based on my estimation of your needs, so do behave, Lieutenant.”
Branson looked around the room as all his crewmates gave a nod of understanding in his direction. “Why are you lot staring at me that way? I am very responsbile.”
Linnea snorted, then blushed and covered her nose. “I’ve known you less than two days, James, and I already know that responsible is not something you’ve likely been accused of, well, ever.”
The pilot grumbled something unintelligible as he stood up and headed for one of the room’s exits.
Linnea called for Coleman and asked the AI for directions to the crew quarters section of the facility. Misha watched her go, then turned to Omandi.
“How did you know about Linnea and my sister?”
Charlotte raised one high-arched eyebrow. “I didn’t, and don’t, know anything about them.”
The security officer narrowed her eyes at the captain, “Then why did you—”
Charlotte gripped Misha’s shoulders with both hands and stared directly into her eyes. “I knew something about Linnea really pissed you off, and couldn’t have it serving as a wedge between you two. I also could tell that she was holding back out of both insecurity and kindness. I need each of you being secure in your gifts and, quite frankly, you were being a bitch. So you didn’t deserve her kindness.”
“Fair point,” said Misha with a grin, “But…”
“No buts, Lieutenant. I just saw the path that would result in two of my crew working better together while not knowing why that path would get the job done. It’s what I do. I follow my gut instincts based on how leaders around me interact. That’s how I’ve learned to lead leaders. Now, don’t you have an assignment you should be getting to?”
“Aye, sir,” she said, “I’ll have our offensive and defensive capabilities mapped out before I hit the rack, don’t you worry about that.” Misha took a step toward one of the exits and stopped.
She gave a pointed glance at Damien who raised one hand in a mild warding gesture. “I’m going,” he said, then added to Charlotte, “Thanks for trusting me, Captain. I know you have misgivings about Howard-Prime and he’s the one who suggested you give me physicality so—”
“No thanks needed, Lieutenant. I had the ability to help one of my crew gain something important to them, even though they weren’t sure they wanted it. You are right that I do not trust the source, but I do trust you. Remember, you are not Howard-Prime. You are Damien Howar—.” She stopped herself and said, “I believe you need a new last name. It will help distinguish you from him. Think on it and let me know in the morning.”
He nodded. “I will, Captain. It’s a good notion.” Damien inclined his head toward Misha and headed toward the facility’s command center.
“Well, I’m headed for med-bay again,” said Charlotte. “I’ve decided that Doctor Carpenter will be our next recruit so I need to better understand our medical capabilities before meeting him.”
Misha reached out and gripped Omandi’s arm. The older woman stopped and looked at her security officer. “Captain…Charlotte…I had to wait until it was just us, but I wanted to say that I’m glad it was you. I know you didn’t want any of this and probably wish it had never happened but, I’m glad it did because I had no idea how much I needed you, until after we met.”
Charlotte reached up, covered Misha’s hand with her own, and said, “Thanks, that means a lot, especially coming from you, but I’ll clue you in on a little secret. I had no idea how much I needed this version of myself until I met all of you. I’ve never felt more alive or more pu
rposeful.” Omandi shook her head slightly. “I’ve no illusions about how difficult our task is, but I’m more convinced than ever that Doctor Howard has given us every opportunity and advantage to succeed.”
“So you approve of his methods then?” asked Sokolov.
“Fuck no, I abhor his methods,” replied Charlotte. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she added, more to herself than Misha, “I abhor his methods almost as much as I am grateful he used them, because God knows I could not have done what he did for us.”
Misha nodded in understanding then silently left the canteen.
Charlotte jumped with surprise when her hand terminal chimed. It was James. His text message scrolled across the screen.
I’ve got a pretty good grip on some of the Galileo’s more advanced navigational elements as well as her passive defenses. I’ve also downloaded a Nav-related package for the Bladerunner, but it’s locked for now. Since I finished five minutes before your alarm went off, I’m going to grab a dram from the canteen to help me sleep.
Omandi shook her head, but couldn’t help smiling at her stereotypical Irish navigator’s love of strong spirits. A second later, her terminal chimed again, this time is was Linnea.
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