Five Minds

by Guy Morpuss

  As the swill moved back towards him, Alex pushed himself upright, ignoring his throbbing head. He rubbed at his right eye, which seemed to be stuck shut.

  He looked around. There was sufficient light from the moon that he didn’t need to use his enhanced vision. He had been lying in a narrow gap between the railing on which the gull was perched and a tall metal container. Beyond the railing a dark ocean stretched out as far as he could see.

  ‘What the hell?’ he muttered, as he lurched to his feet. He staggered over to the rail, clinging to it as he dry-retched a second time, scaring away the bird. All he could see was water, moonlight reflecting off rolling waves.

  Containers blocked his movement in two directions. The only option was to head for the back of the ship. He clung to the railing as he made his way along the narrow passageway, timing his movements to the rise and fall of the deck.

  Alex had never been on a ship before. This one seemed massive. Above the row of containers to his right he could just make out some sort of superstructure, lights twinkling. He guessed that was the bridge, where he could find the crew. Assuming it even had a crew. If the ship was run by AI it might be difficult to persuade it to turn round and take him back to land.

  He was halfway to the bridge when a gap opened up in the wall of containers to his right. It was narrow, but it seemed like a better route. Alex squeezed down it, emerging into a wider passage that ran the length of the ship.

  It was dimly lit, and to his left there was a person walking away from him, towards the bridge. Alex hesitated, then shouted. Whatever he was doing on board, there was no point in hiding.

  ‘Hey, can you help me?’

  The crewman stopped, turned, and then ran over.

  Alex smiled as best he could, conscious that he wasn’t looking his best. One side of him remained encrusted with vomit and seawater. And he stank. He extended his hand. ‘Hi, I’m Alex. I’m not sure how I’ve ended up here, but I need to get back to land. Can you take me to your captain?’

  The crewman stared at him blankly for a moment. Alex scanned him. Bugger. He was a dandi – known only as ‘Crew 2’. This was hopeless.

  ‘You are not authorised,’ said the dandi in flat tones. ‘You must follow me. You must come to the captain.’

  Well, that was more promising. Provided the captain wasn’t also a dandi.

  Without waiting for Alex’s agreement, the dandi turned on his heel and started towards the bridge. Alex struggled to keep up on the moving deck.

  ‘Hey, where are we?’ asked Alex. ‘Where are we heading?’

  The dandi looked over his shoulder. ‘You are on board the container ship Vinogradov, bound for Montreal, where we will arrive in ten days.’

  Alex stopped. ‘Montreal. Ten days? Shit.’ He ran to catch up. ‘How do I get off?’

  The dandi looked at him blankly. ‘I am taking you to the captain.’

  As they neared the bridge a voice shouted down out of the darkness. ‘Dva? What is it? Who have you got there?’ A light shone from above, blinding Alex. ‘Sierra? Blyad! Ty che, blyad. What are you doing here?’

  Alex looked up, but could see nothing. But at least this sounded like a person, not a dandi. ‘Can I come up?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course. Follow Dva.’

  The dandi led Alex up steep metal steps to the brightly lit bridge. It was smaller than Alex had expected, a single black chair facing a low bank of screens. The captain closed a door that led out to a gangway looking over the deck. He was short and barrel-chested, stomach straining against his black turtleneck. He had a red cap pulled low over his forehead.

  ‘Sierra … Govno.’ He was shaking his head and chuckling. He took a step towards Alex, arms out wide, then stopped. ‘You’re a mess.’

  Alex scanned him. Captain Lesnichy Igorevich, a fifty-eight-year-old worker, originally from Kazahkstan. His English seemed good, which was a relief to Alex, as they’d never bothered to get a translation implant.

  ‘I’m not Sierra. Although she seems to be the one who’s got me into this mess. Didn’t she tell you she was a schizo? I’m Alex.’

  ‘She did mention it. But I thought I’d never see her again. I met her in a bar in port and she came back here for a some of my special vodka. She was meant to get off the ship well before we left port.’ He shook his head. ‘She had a lot to drink, though. Shit.’ He hesitated, then stuck out a hand. ‘I’m Les.’

  ‘Your dandi said we’re on our way to Montreal. Is that true?’

  Les nodded and rubbed his chin. ‘Shit, this is a mess.’ He looked across at the dandi, who was standing silently by the steps. ‘Dva, go find Tree. He needs some help in the engine room. The recharge link from the panels to the port battery stack is glitching again.’

  ‘Is that your whole crew, two dandis?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Pretty much. Dva means two in Russian. Tree means three. You don’t need a big crew. Two dandis isn’t much company for a long voyage. I renamed the third dandi, Tasha. She’s different. She’s here for …’ He looked away, not meeting Alex’s eye. ‘She’s here for other reasons. If you understand?’

  Alex did. He tried not to pull a face, and quickly changed the subject.

  ‘So how do I get off here?’ he asked.

  ‘Before Montreal?’ asked Les. ‘You don’t. Unless you fancy a long swim that way.’ He gestured vaguely behind them. ‘I wouldn’t recommend it. Particularly if you space out every four hours.’

  Sierra had a lot to answer for this time. She had recently developed a taste for a new drug that was marketed to schizos with the promise that it left no after-effects for the others. That part was true, but it made the generally uninhibited Sierra even less inhibited. There were more unsafe wakes, often in the presence of her latest sexual conquest. This was the worst so far, though. Perhaps the time had come for the rest of them to stop dismissing her actions with a casual, ‘That’s just Sierra for you.’

  ‘Can’t you turn around?’ asked Alex. ‘Where are we?’

  Les glanced at one of his screens. ‘The nearest land is Wolf Rock.’

  Alex looked at him blankly. ‘Where’s that? Can you drop me off there?’

  Les laughed. ‘This ship’s probably bigger than the island, and it’s surrounded by rocks. There’s a lighthouse and not much more. It’s at the western end of the English Channel. Between us and Montreal there’s several thousand kilometres of ocean. And we won’t be turning round. I work to a tight schedule. I can guarantee you can’t afford to pay for the time I’d lose to drop you back at port, plus the penalties for arriving late in Montreal.’

  He walked over to the chair and slumped into it heavily, sighing. ‘No, you’re stuck here, Alex. You’re going to Montreal. All five of you.’

  •

  Alex met Les an hour later in a room spanning the width of the ship, one level up from the bridge. There were windows all around, but the view of the dark ocean just reminded Alex that he was stuck on this ship for the next ten days. And then stuck in Montreal.

  The captain had summoned Dva back to escort Alex to a cabin and, more importantly, somewhere he could clean up. He felt considerably better once he’d showered, rehydrated, and taken some potent anti-sickness tablets. In the meantime Dva had printed him some black jeans and a polo neck. They fitted him rather better than the ones worn by Les.

  The captain was sitting with his back to the door, staring out over the moonlit ocean, a glass of something clear in his hand. He spun his chair around as Alex entered.

  ‘Take a seat.’ He raised his drink. ‘Dva, get Alex one of these. It’s not printed vodka. This came on board with me at Murmansk. A man needs some comforts on these long voyages.’

  ‘Like Tasha,’ said Alex.

  Les grinned. ‘You can judge me once you’ve spent three weeks crossing the Pacific with nothing for company but two dandis. Dumb bastards aren’t much good as conversationalists. Not that Tasha is. But she has other qualities that take my mind off the loneliness. Nochnaja bab
ochka – my night butterfly. Don’t call her that,’ he added hastily. ‘To us Kazahks it means “whore”. Sounds better in translation. Not that she’d care, really.’ He paused as Dva handed Alex a drink. ‘To Montreal. At least this means I can have some intelligent conversation on the way there.’

  ‘Five of us for the price of one,’ said Alex. ‘Talking of price, how is this going to work? How are you going to explain our presence to whoever owns this ship? And how are we going to get back?’

  ‘The first?’ Les gave a dismissive wave. ‘The owners will never know you’re here. The second? That’s more difficult. I’m not heading back. I’ve got two weeks pottering down the East Coast, then through to Vladivostok. It’ll be two months before I’m even back in Murmansk. Sorry, but you’re going to have to find another way home.’

  ‘How?’ asked Alex. ‘There’s no way we can afford to fly.’

  Alex had never been on an aircraft, and doubted that he ever would. He could still remember as a young child what had been regarded as the most successful advertising campaign ever. Posters, billboards and onscreen adverts plastering the world for over a year. Plain white backgrounds with a single dead tree or plant, the corpse of an animal or child, and four words: ‘You Fly, I Die’. It created a collective guilt. Flying was almost unheard of now, the preserve of the super-rich who could afford the massive carbon offsets.

  ‘You’ll have to find someone sailing the other way who’s willing to take you,’ said Les. ‘I’ll ask around. But it could take a while. Until then I hope you find something to do in Montreal.’

  ‘Great,’ said Alex. ‘Sierra’s got some apologising to do. Even by her standards this is a good one.’

  ‘She seemed like fun,’ said Les.

  ‘Everyone thinks she’s fun,’ said Alex ruefully. ‘Then they get to know her.’ He took a sip of the rough vodka. He didn’t feel like drinking. Although maybe he needed to, to get through this. ‘You’ll have plenty of time to do that.’

  ‘How does it work?’ asked Les. ‘I don’t really know any schizos … sorry, is that rude? What do you like to be called?’

  Alex shrugged. ‘It’s not a name that we like, but everyone uses it. Even us sometimes. We start the day with Kate. She’s probably the nicest. Sierra says she’s dull, but that’s just because they’re so different. Kate gets things done. She’s followed by Mike. This is Mike,’ he said, gesturing to his body. ‘He’ll be wanting to build a running track and a weights room on deck. Then comes Ben, who will barely talk to you at all. He lives to play games. If you need any of your systems upgraded he’ll delight in doing it for you. Then there’s Sierra. You’re going to need more vodka if you’ve got ten days of her.’

  ‘And what about you? What should I know about you?’

  ‘Me?’ said Alex, looking down. ‘There’s nothing to know about me. I just make up the numbers.’

  Les raised an eyebrow. ‘That sounds rather sad.’ He gestured to Dva for a refill. ‘Do you want something to eat? How long have you got?’

  ‘Thanks, but no. I’d better get back to my cabin and get a message out to the others so they know what’s going on.’ He stood. ‘Thanks again – you’ve been really good about this.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Les. ‘This voyage is going to be more fun than usual.’

  •

  All. Nice one, Sierra. So I wake up in a pool of vomit on the deck of a container ship bound for Montreal. Now we’re all stuck here for ten days. The captain, Les, is from Kazahkstan. He’s being pretty understanding. He says he’ll drop us in Montreal and try to put us in touch with someone who can give us a ride back. Whatever that costs, you’re paying. Let’s see what he comes up with. In the meantime, we’ve got a pretty dull ten days ahead of us. Alex.

  The captain seems a real sweetie. Apart from his sex dandi. That’s just gross. I’m not sure what he actually does on the ship. He spent most of his time talking to me. He seems rather lonely. No news yet on getting back. What the hell, Sierra??? Kate.

  So Dva and Tree have built us an obstacle course over the containers. The course record (me) is 7:22, set third time round. Dva managed 9:40; Tree 10:43. Anyone fancy a challenge? Captain Les declined. Nothing else to do here, though. Mike.

  Seriously, Sierra? What were you thinking? I’m starting an eight-day quest through the Caverns of Euronia. I’ve got a team together. Message me if you need me for anything. Otherwise let’s sort things out once we get to Montreal. Ben.

  For God’s sake, chill guys. It’s like a holiday. It’ll be character-building. If you’re that bored go play with Natasha. She’s cute. And dumb. What more do you want? Lesnichy doesn’t mind sharing her. S.

  FFS Sierra!! With a sex dandi? That’s sick. A.

  Not cool, Sierra. Les says still nothing on getting home. We could be stuck in Montreal a while. Kate.

  What else is there to do? I don’t know what Lesnichy paid for her, but the AI in Natasha is unlike any sex dandi I’ve seen before. She knows moves even I’ve not come across. Don’t be so dull, Kate. Give it a go. You might learn something. S.

  Please, Sierra, cut down on the vodka. I’m asking Les to limit your rations. Alex.

  New record – 7:13. Why aren’t the rest of you trying it? Mike.

  Bored. Bored. Bored. If Lesnichy tells me one more time about how to turn potatoes into alcohol I’m going to throw him overboard. I don’t need to know how it’s made! And he’s starting to get grumpy about sharing Natasha. Says he’s worried I’m going to break her. S.

  Les has found us a boat back. It’s a Kazahk friend of his. They used to sail together. But we’re going to be stuck in Montreal for at least two months. There aren’t many boats going back that’ll take us for free. And stop pissing him off, Sierra. We’re depending on his goodwill. Kate.

  Well that was weird. I saw my first sunset since I was seventeen. Time’s going to shift for all of us as we head west. You’ll be waking in the dark, Kate. Alex.

  8:43 – how can you be so much faster in the same body, Mike? Kate.

  Oh, God! Two more days – shoot me now. I don’t want to see another boat as long as I live. And Lesnichy has starting telling me about his first two wives now. Pre-Natasha. He’s a dull drunk. S.

  All. I’ve got an idea. I’ve done some research on Montreal. There’s loads we could do there. There’s a pretty serious AI scene that Ben would enjoy. And they live for the outdoors, Mike. Why don’t we find somewhere to live for a few months, stay out the summer, and head back later? It’ll mean we’re all on the wrong time, but I’m worst affected – I’ll be up in the middle of the night, but I can put up with it for a few months. And I just can’t face getting on a ship again any time soon. Votes in next cycle. Kate.

  Works for me. 5:00–9:00 is fine. Mike.

  OK. Makes no difference to me where/when we are. I still won’t have finished Euronia. There’s some serious shit going down here, and I’ve got several days to go. Ben.

  I don’t care. Just get me away from Lesnichy. He spent the whole afternoon boring me about death parks. He’s got a cousin or something he wants us to get in touch with. S.

  It’s pretty cool seeing daylight again. I could live with this for the summer. Tough on you, Kate – you sure it’s good? Alex.

  6:58!! New record. M.

  One more day. I’ve found us somewhere to stay in Montreal [attached]. Tell me if you disagree. Alex.

  •

  Alex watched as Quebec City slid past on the right-hand side of the ship. He and the captain had climbed to the very top of the bridge superstructure, a small lookout point exposed to the elements, low railings all that prevented a long drop to the deck below. Row after row of containers stretched out ahead of them; beyond that, the fiery reflection of the setting sun in the waters of the St Lawrence Seaway. A cool evening breeze ruffled Alex’s hair.

  ‘Well, it’s been interesting,’ said Les. ‘I won’t say it’s been easy. I don’t envy you your life. I genuinely don’t know how you do it.
’

  ‘You get used to it,’ said Alex. ‘We learn to forgive one another. Even this.’ He gestured to the ship. ‘There’s no point in spending the next twenty years whining to Sierra about bringing us here. You make the best of it and move on. So we get a summer in Montreal. Not many people are ever going to experience that.’

  ‘It’s a weird bunch that you share that body with. Ben I’ve barely seen at all. Mike spent more of his time challenging my dandis to races than talking to me. Kate – she’s an interesting one. She knows more about my own country than I ever will. But she needs to learn to let go a bit. Sierra … Whatever you say, she’s dangerous. Fun, but dangerous.’

  ‘Reckless,’ said Alex. ‘But she wouldn’t deliberately try to hurt us.’

  ‘Be careful with her,’ said Les. ‘And what about you? You lied to me on the first day.’

  Alex turned to him in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You said you were just there to make up the numbers, nothing special. I don’t think that’s right. You are what holds the group together. You’re the strongest of all.’

  Alex laughed. ‘Thanks, Les, but they’d all get on fine without me.’ He quickly changed the subject. ‘I hope the others at least thanked you. You’ve been very generous. We’ll miss you in Montreal.’

  ‘I’ll miss some of you,’ said Les. ‘What’s your plan after Montreal? When you get home.’

  ‘We’ve got some big decisions to make,’ said Alex. ‘We’re at the end of our first life. This body is almost forty-one years old, so we’ve got just over a year to go before our first trade-in. We don’t have a lot of time in credit. We get a new body for nothing, but there’s a lot of argument over what we do about enhancing it. Mike’s complaining that he’s going to have to start all over again. He’s been trying to persuade us to go to a death park. Says that as schizos we haven’t got anything to lose.’