Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels

by White, Gwynn

  “No,” I shoot back. “No, we couldn’t.”

  “We have plenty of time to take me to another company’s port. Vanheim Gamma or something.”

  “We can’t,” I say.

  The cook glares at me. “Can’t or don’t want to?”

  “Venice,” Daisy growls. “Stop.”

  Venice opens his mouth to make a retort, but the big woman cocks her head, a warning in her gaze, and he finally throws up his arms and rises from his seat. “You’re going to kill all of us,” he says, pointing a finger at me. “You’re going to kill all of us, because you’re refusing to do the right thing and get me out of here.”

  “We’re a crew,” I tell him. “We make decisions together. And we can’t let you go, not until we know that we’re not infected.”

  “Well, I want out,” he says. “You were the one who brought the virus here. And you’re going to kill us all.”

  He storms out of the bridge, leaving me glaring at a spot on my console, because I’m afraid to look up and see the expressions of the rest of the crew. Do they feel the same way he does? I don’t want them to feel like I’m killing them by keeping them here.

  But surely they know that we can’t leave and expose the virus to anyone else?

  “Hey, Clem,” PC says.

  “I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “I think his food will taste particularly angry tonight.”

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared,” Daisy says, “but we can’t let him go. Not until we know for sure.”

  Taka nods in agreement.

  At least I can reason with most of the crew. I glance over at Orion, who is watching our exchange with a sense of detachment. I wish I could take away my emotions like he does.

  “Orion,” I command, tightening my ponytail, “maintain our position for the next three days. And if you see anything suspicious—ships coming back, weird space activity, anything—then we need to move.”

  “Yes, captain,” he says stoically.

  Like he’s been ever since I kissed him.

  It’s all so messed up. I wish Venice wasn’t mad at me, or else I’d raid the pantry again and grab another jar of moonshine. But I don’t think he’d go for that at all at the moment.

  “So,” Taka says, “what do we do now?”

  “Well, I’m going to relax for a bit,” I announce.

  Taka exchanges a glance with Daisy. “I mean, what do we do while we’re here?” he says.

  “We just wait,” I say. And I don’t add if we’re waiting to see if we’re infected or to die or…

  I can’t stand it anymore. I offer a small smile. “We’ll figure it out.”

  I hate lying.

  I flee from the bridge and the crew that is depending on me to make the right decision. Truth is, I have no idea what to do from here. I do agree with Venice that we’re waiting for our deaths. But the galaxy cannot afford for us to be wrong.

  It can’t afford for us to infect any others.

  I wander the halls of the Pícara, running my left hand along the walls. I’ve been on this ship since I was little, and I remember doing the exact same thing when I was little, only much shorter. Finding a permanent home was a boon for PC and me, and the ship, apart from having its feud with me, has been a part of my life as long as Louis has.

  So many memories in these halls. And it teeters at the moment on the edge of the unknown. I hate having unknowns. I’m sure it’s driving Orion crazy to not be able to extrapolate different outcomes and make a recommendation.

  It feels risky any way we slice it.

  And the crew is depending on me.

  I hear a sniffle above me, up in the crawl space. I remember being a child and hiding up there to get away from Louis when I was in trouble or when I wanted to get away from everyone. As such, I know exactly how to find him and get up there, and I crawl my way towards the youngest member of the crew.

  Oliver is sitting in the dark, illuminated by the glow of his mini-tab as he reads on it. I see tears glistening in the poor light, and his face looks too drawn, too scared to be okay.

  “Hey,” I hail him softly.

  He jumps at my voice and looks up. “Oh,” he says. “Clementine. Er, Captain.”

  I smile despite myself. “It’s still just Clementine,” I say. “Clem, if you want to keep it short.”

  He looks confused for a moment. “Oh, I thought—”

  I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. Just consider me a friend.”

  He nods slowly, distractedly.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  He hesitates. “No.” His voice comes out as whimper.

  I should have expected that answer. And the thing is, I’m not sure what to tell him. I don’t want to tell him a lie, but I don’t want him to spend however long terrified out of his mind. How do you get a kid to not close his eyes and see monsters?

  “We’re trying to figure out what to do,” I say. “But we will do everything we can to make sure we’re all okay.”

  “Including Captain Louis?”

  A lump forms in my throat. “We’re trying to save him, too.”

  He nods again, not meeting my eyes. “I had bad nightmares last night.”

  I shift to sit closer to him. “What kind of nightmares?”

  He chews on his bottom lip. “That I get sick. And I don’t get well, and there’s no way of fixing me. And you abandon me in space.”

  “Oh, Oliver,” I say wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and I feel the boy’s sobs shake his small frame. “We won’t let that happen. I will get sick before I ever let anything happen to you.”

  He looks up at me, his eyes wide. “But what if we all get sick, Clementine? What if we can’t fix this?”

  “That’s why we are where we are,” I say. “We’re close enough to people who say they can help us.”

  “So why aren’t we there already?”

  I’ve been grappling with that for a while now, and I don’t have a good answer, other than I don’t trust Maas to have our best interests at heart. Why would I, after everything that’s happened?

  So I just sigh. “We’re trying to make sure that we have the best information to make the best decision,” I say gently. “We want to make sure that we don’t make a mistake.”

  He’s silent for a moment, thinking on my words. “I’m scared,” he says softly. “I’m just really scared.”

  Now’s when I’m completely honest with him. “I am, too. And it’s okay to be scared. It just makes you alert and aware of everything that’s happening. You’ll be prepared.”

  “I don’t feel that way.” He flips through a page on his mini-tab and there’s a picture of a large reptile that supposedly lived on old Earth millions of years ago. And supposedly, they were wiped out too. I wonder if something like this virus got ahold of them and ripped through their species.

  But I push that thought from my mind. “Between Daisy and me,” I say, “we’ll protect you, okay?”

  He nods. “Thank you,” he says.

  I hope he feels some sort of relief. Because I’m still trying to figure it out myself.

  17

  These damn cameras,” I mutter, flipping through the different views into the quarantine room.

  “Still can’t see?” PC asks, leaning in towards me to peer over my shoulder.

  “Well, have a look,” I say, indicating my screens.

  Like the past few days, we only see a filmy skin that only lets about ten percent of the light in and it obscures the rest of the view. They’ve been covered up with whatever’s going on in that room, and I shudder to think what that is, if it’s Louis or something else.

  “That’s…disturbing,” he mutters under his breath. “What do you think is happening in there?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

  Is Louis’s consciousness still in there? Is he wondering if we abandoned him? I hate that thought.

  “What do you want to do?” PC asks under his breath.
>
  “About Louis?”

  “Yeah. It’s been thirty-six hours since we arrived here.”

  I suck in a deep breath. We’re outside of the incubation period that Maas had given us, that the ship would be so infested with the virus that we’d be begging for help. So far so good. I haven’t shown any symptoms and neither has anyone else, much to Venice’s chagrin, who takes every moment to criticize our methods. He accuses me of keeping him against his will.

  What he doesn’t seem to understand is that all of this is against our will.

  “I don’t know,” I sigh. “I’d hoped that there would have been…something different. But…it’s all the same, isn’t it?” I chew on the fingernails of my left hand. “What do we do if nothing changes?”

  “Then we keep talking and keep evaluating,” PC says.

  “Well, it’s hard to do that when I can’t see what’s happening.” I shake my head and curse under my breath. “Why couldn’t the Pícara have had windows there?”

  “Because then that would have been too easy.” PC snickers softly, putting his hands on his hips. “But, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

  “If everything’s all right, should I go in there with a flamethrower?” I ask. “How will we get it off the ship?”

  “If all that’s true, then we can see about removing the room. And dropping it into a blackhole.”

  And that would cut into my budget for repairing the hole in my leg, which I’m still dealing with on top of everything else.

  “Perfect,” I say sarcastically.

  PC smiles at me. “We’ll figure it out, Clem. You always were bad at playing the long game.”

  “Well, I’m not going to figure anything out by looking at this.” I turn off the screens with a snort of disgust. “I just wish something would go right.”

  He shrugs. “Things can only go so wrong before they eventually go right, right?”

  I quirk an eyebrow at that.

  “Speaking of things going awry,” PC says, putting his hands in his trouser pockets, “what’s going on between you and Orion?”

  Immediately, my internal systems send me a warning that I need to calm myself down, and a coolant kicks in to lessen the heat in my cheeks. “Nothing.”

  PC doesn’t look convinced. “I know you, Clem. And you’re a terrible liar. He’s been acting weird for a few days now. Not talking to anyone.”

  I open my mouth but snap it shut and shake my head with a self-deprecating laugh. “I got drunk the night that Louis…” My voice trails off. “Orion reattached my old arm and…I mistook him for a human.”

  “Mistook him how?”

  I scratch my ear. “I kissed him.”

  PC’s reaction is immediate. “That’s a problem?”

  “He’s a navigator android, not a pleasure bot.”

  He shrugs. “Well, maybe the problem is that he liked it too.”

  “He’s an android, PC. He doesn’t like things.”

  A lopsided smile comes to PC’s face. “Don’t sell yourself short, Clem. Did you like it?”

  I don’t want to tell him that I did. “I don’t like where this conversation is going,” I say, spinning in my chair as I stand. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Just remember, Clem,” PC calls after me, “you’re more machine than human. If you enjoyed it, maybe he did, too.”

  I give him a vulgar gesture before I leave him and head back to my quarters. Of course, out of everyone on the ship I can bump into, I run smack dab into Orion as I round a corner. As in, I’m so lost in my thoughts, I bounce off his hard chest.

  “Careful, Captain,” Orion says, with that same distance he’s had since I threw myself at him.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, averting my eyes. “I’m just trying to get to bed.”

  He nods. “That would be wise.”

  “Yeah.” Then nervous laughter bubbles out of me. “Amazing how small the ship can seem, right?”

  I make to move away from him, but he seems to be in my way. His eyes are watching me intently and I try everything I can to not look up into them. To not lose myself in them.

  “How are you?” he asks finally.

  I snicker. “Well, I’ve been far better. I’d have to say that the past week has been the worst of my life. And nothing seems to be going right. But, sure. I’m fine. Peachy keen.”

  He only watches me.

  “Well, have a good night,” I say, pushing past him.

  “Clementine,” he says, using my name, which causes me to look back at him. I can’t stand how good-looking he is, especially with everything that’s happened. Yet another instance in which I screwed up.

  Finally, he tilts his head in my direction. “Sweet dreams.”

  I’m about to turn away when a question comes to me. “Do androids have dreams?”

  “If you mean that, when I power down I have visions of possibilities, then, yes.” He nods solemnly. “Yes, we do have dreams.”

  I raise both eyebrows in surprise. “That’s…interesting.”

  “There are a lot about androids that would surprise you,” he says.

  I wonder if there’s more to that, but I decide not to take him up on it. “Night,” I say.

  And then I flee to the safety of my room before I make even more of an ass out of myself. Thankfully, I fall asleep quickly.

  But this time, I dream.

  * * *

  Like before, I walk with my fingertips brushing along the walls of the hallway. The Pícara is dark though, far darker than it should be, like I’m standing in it while only the auxiliary power is on. My cyborg leg is whole once again, so my gait is even and full.

  Lights flicker ominously, with only one out of four hallway lights actually working. I hear the drip of something echoing around me, like water or something else.

  Then I hear the footsteps, a bunch of legs working in succession with each other, with something dragging behind it, like a broken limb. The arachni-lift. It’s somewhere behind me, advancing ever so quickly.

  I look behind me, feeling my terror grip my heart, waiting for the abomination to show up. I don’t know why I’m waiting, except I’m rooted to my spot, unable to continue.

  Then the arachni-lift crashes into the corridor. The lone bloodshot eye sees me, and the human mouth opens and screeches like a predator finding its prey. The spell that it has on me is released, and I turn on my heel and run.

  The Pícara of my dreams is far bigger than in real life, with hallways that continually get narrower and narrower, pressing in on me as I flee. The space between the walls keeps getting smaller and smaller until I’m turned sideways and shuffling ever so slowly forward.

  That doesn’t seem to stop the arachni-lift behind me though. I can hear it closing in, getting ever so closer to me.

  I cry out and stumble forward as the hallways suddenly open up, and I spill out in front of the quarantine room. The sounds of the arachni-lift behind me halt, and it doesn’t follow me out into this space.

  Relief spreads through me, and I feel safe for just a moment.

  Then I turn to look at the room. I still can’t see inside it, but I don’t have to in order to know that there’s something even worse than the arachni-lift brewing in there. Something sinister reaches out towards me, threatening to choke me.

  It’s nauseating, causing my stomach to flip and I gag uncomfortably.

  But something compels me to move forward. To finally figure out what’s happening beyond the door.

  I tentatively reach out and put my palm flat against the door.

  An electric shock hits me, and I gasp.

  But that’s not the loudest sound I hear now. Ricocheting off the inside of my skull, there’s a sound that I hear in my brain and not through my ears.

  HELPME. HELPME. HELPME.

  The ship. It’s screaming at me, wanting me to help it. And it builds in crescendo, until all I can do is scream along with it.

  Whatever is happening inside that room, it’s destroy
ing the Pícara.

  And I know that if I don’t stop it, it’s going to destroy us as well.

  * * *

  I wake up in a sweaty tangle of sheets and blankets, but I’m back in my room, by myself. The dim lighting in my room is exactly as it should be, and I don’t hear the clanging of the arachni-lift following me.

  I groan as I comb my small child’s hand through my hair, trying to calm my racing heart.

  “Fuck,” I mutter. “Fucking hell.”

  Why is it that I don’t dream when I want to, but when I finally do, it’s a horrible nightmare about the very ship I’m on?

  At least it wasn’t real. I can tell myself that.

  It’s 0430, too early to get ready for the day, but I doubt I’ll fall asleep again. Not after that dream.

  A groan rips through the room, like metal expanding and compressing. I freeze and look up at the ceiling, wondering if that was the Pícara trying to talk to me or if we hit a particularly cold spot in space and I’m imagining it.

  Another groan sounds, and I get to my feet in a start.

  It is the ship. And she’s trying to tell me something.

  I shake my head, looking around, begging it to not be true. No, I don’t want to see the quarantine room. I don’t want to leave the safety of my room. And I don’t want to face what could be happening.

  I don’t want the responsibility.

  The light flickers again, oddly reminiscent of my dream, and I snarl as I slip my feet into my shoes. “I’m going, I’m going, I’m going,” I mutter.

  I palm open the door and pad silently toward the quarantine room. No one else is up yet, which is probably a good thing, but I feel like I’m dealing with ghosts now. There’s an eeriness to everything, and dread clenches my stomach as I make my way there.

  The Pícara makes no further indication that she’s trying to tell me something, so I take that as her approval. For better or worse.

  No arachni-lift, no narrowing corridors. So far, so good.

  Then the quarantine room comes into view, and when I see it, I stop, trying to make sense of what I’m looking at. Because it doesn’t make sense. Hell, even from my dream, what I’m seeing before me doesn’t match anything in my memory bank.