Humanity found, p.18
Humanity Found, page 18
“And how many are you?” Kalin asked.
“Like I said, twelve when we went on this mission. Two ships will join us in a few days. I don’t know when the others will come.”
Kalin fell silent. He tried to make peace with the idea that these were his people now. The urge to belong was too strong to ignore. Would they accept him eventually, or was his life now counted in days? If their positions were reversed, there would be no mercy for the Adversary. Torture until all information was extracted and then death.
33
Jocaster stood at attention facing the captain. When the shuttles returned to the ship, everyone had been hustled away. Jocaster and his team to the medics for testing and rest. The survivors to modified shuttle bays until they could be assigned homes.
Kalin disappeared with Asher at his side. Julie and Liz had spent one night in the ward. They were gone when Jocaster woke up. Pen still slept as he left to make his report.
“Good work, Lieutenant,” the captain said. “You’ll see a promotion soon.”
“My team deserves recognition,” Jocaster said.
“Yes. Your report made that clear. I will be speaking to each of them when they are cleared by the doctors.”
“And Kalin?” Jocaster asked, taking advantage of the captain’s good mood.
“He is being tended to,” the captain said. “Can we trust his information?”
“I think so,” Jocaster said. “He took the abandonment hard. As soon as he knew they’d left him, he started talking. I don’t think he knows how to live without orders and a community around him. If we treat him right, he’ll be a good officer one day. Just needs a little loosening up.”
The captain chuckled. “Or my officers need a little tightening up.” His face became serious. “I think it would be a mistake to trust him too easily. There are ways to ensure we are getting the truth from someone.”
“Torture?” Jocaster wondered where that left them. Probably not on the side of the right.
“Not torture,” the Captain said. “We’ll do right by him, Lieutenant. Just don’t expect to see him in uniform soon.”
“Captain?”
“Speak freely, Lieutenant.”
“I want to personally commend Lieutenant Tromarin.”
“That’s not a surprise.” The captain looked down at the charts on his desk.
Crap, this was harder than he expected. Pen probably knew it would be. “I know you see us as friends, as a team, maybe. But—”
“Lieutenant, I will give Tromarin her due. I assume your report will be detailed and fair to everyone on the team.”
Not the time to argue. Jocaster would do what it took in his report to help Pen.
“May I ask what our next moves are?” Jocaster’s curiosity pushed him to the edge of what might be considered acceptable.
“Three more ships have gone out of communication. That leaves us with nine including Dark Prospect. Two will be here tomorrow, the others will move in this direction and follow as best they can.” The captain turned to look at the star chart displayed on his wall. “Our plans have changed with this new information. We will distribute the survivors between us and go looking for Kalin’s ship. We can’t afford to let any humans fall away —our lives are too few. Kalin says he can adjust our tracking systems to find traces of the ship. When we have peace, we look for a new home.”
Jocaster saluted and left to write his report, already thinking about how to become part of the mission to connect with the enemy ship.
FLIGHT
1
It’s amazing what you can accomplish in three days, Pen thought as she entered the class of fifteen-year-olds to begin her first presentation. The students came from three different ships, some because their parents were transferred to Dark Prospect in a trade of skills, something that was impossible only a week ago. A few of the students came from Loke’s ship; perhaps they would be looking at posting to other ships in the newly formed fleet. And of course, most were from Dark Prospect itself.
She hoped this wasn’t a permanent assignment. Talking to civilians was a letdown. The battle to rescue the survivors of the final attack had been high stakes. The enemy had dogged them since as long as she could remember. Now they knew the truth and she wanted to keep solving big problems. Even her old duties seemed tame in comparison to the rescue, but Pen would happily go back to them to get away from school visits. When she’d tried to become one of the new type of scout, ones that flew patrols around Dark Prospect, she thought that would be perfect. Then the captain had called her and told her to come and talk to kids.
She scanned the faces while the teacher introduced her. A mix of boys and girls and maybe a few who weren’t sure yet. At least no one was scowling at her; most had an expression of jaded boredom, like they’d heard it all. She ran her presentation through her mind. New info to them, but perhaps nothing to change the attitude of a normal teenager.
“I wonder what you’ve heard about the most recent events,” Pen said. “Anyone want to volunteer?”
One girl looked around the room and then put her hand up slowly. Pen nodded at her.
She flicked her blond hair back and sat straight. “One of the ships was attacked and this time people escaped. A small team went to a planet and brought them back. And you brought back one of the enemy. And some of us were forced to move from our homes and come here.”
“Pretty good summary. I’m sorry you had to change ships,” Pen said. “What’s your name?”
The girl looked at her neighbor and Pen saw her eyes roll. So, she’d managed to find allies. Maybe she would settle quickly. The girl turned back with a sigh.
“I’m Jarl.”
“You transferred from Joy Descending?”
“My dad was traded for two of your communications officers. They made me come.” Jarl crossed her arms and slumped back in her seat.
The captains of all the ships had made that decision. Pen was sure that the feelings of teenagers weren’t part of the analysis. The ships needed to be united, and sharing expertise made that work. “You’ll see your friends again,” she said. “This is just temporary, until we are settled.”
“Not for me.” Another girl’s hand shot up and she flicked a glance at Jarl as though apologizing for what she was about to say. She looked like a fashion model. Too much makeup for her age, pouty face, and well-coordinated clothes. She didn’t need to flick her hair back. It was tightly woven into braids which highlighted her cheekbones as they twisted into a knot. “I’m Aila. I was on that planet.”
“Then you probably know Loke,” Pen said. “We met up with him when we came to find you.”
“Yeah, well, he did his thing and now it’s like our ship never existed. We don’t have a home to go back to, so we should hang together, or our history will disappear.”
“That won’t happen, Aila.” Pen tried to puzzle out the reason for the comments. So little time had passed since the rescue. How had these bad feelings gained so much strength? “You have your own leader. Loke will make sure your history is kept. When we find a home, we need all the history and experience we can get. Not just those who land, but all the knowledge held by the people who fought hard to keep us going so we could find a home.”
“Yeah, that isn’t likely to happen anytime soon,” Jarl said.
The teacher stepped forward and clapped her hands. “Class, let’s keep to the topic. Pen is here to answer your questions about the rescue, not to solve your problems.”
It’s not that clear cut. Pen felt naive for thinking the rescue was all a good thing. That coming together as a fleet would be seen as a step forward by everyone. She’d been preparing for the military all her life, so this moody teen stage had passed her by. Civilians didn’t follow orders without question. The captains of each ship, or even one of them, should have known; should have found a way to spread the message as one of hope, not inconvenience.
“How much do you know about the enemy?” she asked. “We didn’t only bring back the survivors of the attack. We learned something big.”
Another girl’s hand went up. This one had a sweet smile on her face, hair crimped so hard all evidence of the original tight curls gone except for a few rebellious twisted strands at her temples. “I’m Mellie. I grew up here. Tell us about the enemy. He’s cute. But he killed so many of us. Can we trust him?”
Pen glanced around the room before answering. The boys watched the small group of girls who were monopolizing her time.
“Kalin’s people believed us to be the enemy, as we were told his people were ours. He told me that our ships attacked them in the past. They lost everything too. There are people doing their best to figure out how we can trust him. But everyone on his ship was human. We need to find a way to work with them. We need all the humans we can find to make any settlement successful.”
A chime sounded and every student suddenly shifted into gear, grabbing their devices and bags in their hurry to leave.
“Sorry about that,” the teacher said. “This is rough for some of them. You did a good job.”
That’s a relief. “I’ll let the captain know about the bad feelings. We should do more to help. Someone should be taking their side in the decisions and I don’t think any of the civilian leaders are doing that.”
* * *
Outside the classroom, Pen turned to head for her duty station before remembering she was done for the day. What just happened didn’t feel like a good job. Pen preferred the nice clean ending of most of her assignments. You achieved the goal, or you didn’t. You succeeded or you failed. This was too much like failure and she couldn’t see what success might look like.
She strode toward the dining hall. Maybe Jo would hear her out.
The captain needed to find someone qualified to be the spokesperson, she thought as she passed civilians in the corridor. Loke would be good at it, and he wasn’t assigned anywhere yet. She would recommend him to the captain. Then she’d be available for a more interesting assignment.
As she ran through the list of people she knew, a lead ball formed in her stomach. She didn’t need to tell the captain. He’d already chosen someone: her. This was her new assignment. It wasn’t punishment; she’d done nothing wrong.
She stopped and found her way to the bulkhead. Leaning against the wall, she tried to understand why. Her future couldn’t be made up of this gray feeling of ambiguous results. No. She would find a way to convince the captain that she made a better scout than a public relations hack. Scouts held lower rank, but a demotion was better than this.
“Pen?”
She looked up. Asher Jones was standing in front of her with a worried look on his face.
“Hi.”
“I want to talk to you,” he said. “Not here. My quarters; we’ll have more privacy.”
She remembered not trusting him at the beginning of the rescue mission. But he’d proved his worth and more at the end. “Sure. It’s probably more interesting than what I planned to do.” He was good at getting people to do things, so maybe she could ask him for advice about the captain.
Asher walked slightly ahead of her, using his height to subtly clear their path. Pen knew the schematics of the civilian part of the ship, but not the reality. On the military side, the corridors were crowded, but everyone was going somewhere with a purpose. Here, people clustered together and moved in groups, or blocked the way as they conducted a conversation. Having him lead meant she didn’t get frustrated to the point of being rude.
His quarters were down a side corridor from the main one. The way was dimly lit, and the space narrow. Inside, his room looked much like hers: bed, desk, efficiency bathroom, chair.
In the chair was Roger Whitnal, the current civilian leader.
Pen turned to leave. “I have someplace to be.”
“Wait,” Asher said. “Just listen. I promise you will be interested, and we won’t ask you to agree to anything.”
She turned back. “Why is everything with you shady? You should have told me he would be here.”
Whitnal stood and held out his hand, not to shake, but to offer the chair. “I don’t understand why you feel this way about me, but I promise I’m not a bad man.”
He was the reason Asher came with them on the mission. It worked out, but the man didn’t know how to be straightforward with anyone.
“Okay,” Pen said. She leaned against the wall next to the door. If they thought her stupid enough to sit where they could bar her exit, she’d show them how wrong they were.
Whitnal sat. He didn’t look sneaky; short, balding and stocky, he looked like a kind grandfather. Looks could not be trusted.
“Okay, no preamble,” Asher said. “We want you to join us.”
“I’m military,” she said. “I have no plans to change that.”
“You helped me on the mission,” Asher said. “I thought you might have the talents we need.”
“Your captain doesn’t seem to value your actual skill,” Whitnal said. When Pen pushed from the wall to contradict him, he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t get me wrong. I admire the man. His job is hard. He’s responsible for the safety of everyone on board -- on all the ships now. But I think he finds it hard to acknowledge the individual in all that.”
“The captain knows what to do,” Pen said. Well, maybe not this time, but she would find a way out of this assignment. “Why should I resign my commission? Something I’ve worked for all my life?”
Asher took a seat on the bed and waved Whitnal to silence.
Interesting. Who exactly is in charge here?
“People change, Pen,” Asher said. “Things happen and people realize the life they built is fragile. Some change, some fight it; only the people who change survive.”
In the short time since she’d come back from that planet, so much had changed. If she left the military there was no going back. It was too big a step.
“Just changing with the whims of the universe is weak,” she said. “People have to control their fates.”
“Fair enough,” Whitnal said. “With all the new people aboard, and the other ships so close, I worry that we’ll miss something important if we cling to the old ways. Promise me one thing.”
“What?” No way was she going to promise anything blindly.
“Think it over.” Whitnal rose. “I’ll leave you to it.”
He didn’t even wait for her answer, just left her alone with Asher.
“Pen?” Asher said. “Will you?”
“Think it over? You mean, don’t tell anyone, right?”
He nodded. “Until we know how this settles out, we can’t trust anyone. I have a bad feeling about this exchange of people. I’m sure my counterparts on other ships sense it too.”
“Yeah, people call it paranoia,” she said. “What are you asking me to do? I can’t promise to think over something I don’t understand.”
“Mostly we’ll want you to listen and report on anything that doesn’t feel right.” He stared at her like her thoughts were running across her forehead. “You won’t be interrogating anyone.”
“No. You want me to send people to you so you can torture them.”
“Not fair, Pen. We need to keep everyone safe too, and we don’t torture people. We’ve taken an enemy aboard and let him roam free. You must see how that looks.”
“Kalin wouldn’t hurt anyone. His people abandoned him. We’re his only choice.”
“I hope so. Just consider it. And you can talk to your friends, but don’t tell the captain. If you say no, then he won’t ever learn we approached you. If you say yes, Roger will deal with it.”
It felt like a betrayal, but she was going to say no, so it wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. I’ll tell you my answer soon.” She pulled open the door and slipped out before Asher could say anything more. His words were making too much sense for her to stay.
2
Too fast, Pen thought as she strode through the corridors away from Asher and his plans. Why is everything happening at once? She wanted to stop thinking over Asher’s offer — she would not give any credit to Whitnal for it. The answer was no. If she hadn’t agreed to keep the offer a secret from the captain, she could talk to Jo, but she couldn’t be sure he would keep quiet. And she wouldn’t go to him for answers. She might feel a trace of temptation, but she knew her answer.
The movement of the crowd became more purposeful, reminding Pen it was lunch time for her shift. Food would help. Her brain might be stuck on the offer because it needed sustenance.
She drifted with the stream of people headed for the dining hall. A week ago, the population of the ship was small enough that the military could have their own place to eat and relax. Now, with Loke’s survivors and people from other ships, both halls were open to everyone, making for a noisier and more interesting mealtime.
She grabbed a tray and selected a roast vegetable sandwich and coffee before looking around for a table. Jocaster waved her to join him at one near the door.
“How did it go?” he asked.
“The class?” She unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. It tasted of sweet vegetables fresh from the oven. The civilians got better cooks than the military.
“The whole morning. You did other things, right?” He handed his tray to a passing cleaning mech.
“Not much. The class only ended a while ago.” He can’t know about Asher.
He kept his gaze on the spoon he was using to stir his coffee. “Okay. How were the kids?”
“The teacher said I did okay,” Pen said. “The kids hold all kinds of opinions on how the captain should run the ship.”
He smiled up at her. “Didn’t you at that age?”
“I focused on getting through the game,” she said. They’d met when Jocaster pretended to be a contestant in the game that qualified winners to be officers. He was undercover, investigating the possibility it was fixed. “I guess I thought the captain knew what he was doing. Anyway, times are different now. We only had us, if you know what I mean.”
