Chapters Thirty-eight and Thirty-nine

From the Personal Journal of Kai-Lee Fox Delta

Enid Huw and I ran into each other in the corridor right outside my quarters today.  The moment she saw me, her lips curved in an unreadable, professional smile.  If she was hoping to reassure me with that smile, she failed.  I was focused on her prying eyes.

“Kai-Lee, how are you?”  Her greeting was smooth and solicitous, with a hint of poor-you.  In other words, based on the current climate, she had already made up her mind about how I was—depressed and desperate.  Her voice invited me to get it all off my chest.  Fat chance!  Far from accepting her unspoken  invitation, all I wanted to do was get rid of her as quickly as possible without giving myself away.

“I’m fine,” I replied, ruthlessly suppressing the urge to wipe suddenly damp palms on my blue slacks.  Catching the sharp, speculative gleam in her eye, I hastened to add, “You know, considering.”

“Considering what?”

I bit back the first response that popped into my mind, because I knew she was serious.  “Considering the upheaval we’ve had lately.”  I sounded solemn, calm, and sincere.  Needless to say, this came as a pleasant surprise, seeing as how my heart was firmly lodged in my throat at the time.

“How do you feel about that?” she asked.

I almost laughed out loud.  Fortunately, I managed to swallow the impulse, hoping no trace of its brief existence had shown on my face.  Enid probably wouldn’t appreciate my involuntary reaction to the fact that she had actually asked the stereotypical shrink question.

By the Sage! I groaned internally, praying no telltale trace of forehead dampness would pop out to arouse suspicion.  If I had seen her coming, I could have ducked back into my quarters and come out later!  Since I hadn’t spotted her in time, I had no choice but to stand my ground and come up with an answer—preferably, one she would buy.

“It’s unsettling,” I acknowledged, “but we’ll get through it.”

“But how do you feel about everything that has happened,” she prodded relentlessly, “on a personal level, I mean?”

Careful, Kai.  Fine line time.  No way was Enid going to believe me if I said Ke-Ling’s death, his message, and the resultant mayhem hadn’t affected me deeply.  On the other hand, I didn’t want her deciding I had plunged head-first into the pit of despair.  Either way, she was liable to insist on a private session that could end in nothing short of Alpha Genesis.  My only recourse was to tell her the truth … up to a point.

I sighed deeply, mainly because it gave me a chance to release some of my pent-up tension; besides, it seemed like the thing to do.  “Still working my way through Ke-Ling’s death, I guess.  It was an awful shock.”

“For all of us,” she agreed.  I was relieved to note a slight decrease in her pointed scrutiny.  “Suicide goes against everything we believe in.”  Since it went against everything I believed in, too, I nodded.  “What about the broadcast?” Enid probed.  “Have you been able to put his allegations into context?”

“Yes.” Better than you have, I thought.  “Although I admit, I was stunned when I first saw the video.”

“But the things he said ….  They’re not troubling you?”

“They did in the beginning,” I admitted honestly, remembering how it had been when I first saw the light myself.  “To tell you the truth, I didn’t know what to think for a while.  But the things Ke-Ling said don’t bother me any more.”

The return of Enid’s detached smile hit me like a standing ovation for a virtuoso performance:  mine.  “Yours was a perfectly normal reaction.  Don’t worry, Kai-Lee, your subconscious is working it all out.  Still, I hope you’ll feel free to come see me, if the coping process hits a snag.”

“A snag?  Uh … sure, sure Enid.  You’ll be the first to know.”

Then she went her way, and I went mine—weak with relief, and marveling at the way I had pulled it off.  I hadn’t had to come up with a single lie.  Enid and I had two completely different conversations on the same topic; it was as simple as that.

My successful escape from Enid was one of two bright spots in an otherwise black week.  The squeeze is definitely on.  If I didn’t feel the pinch before, I do now, especially since poor Reika Terrance fell through the cracks, turning herself into Huw before Rune had a chance to save her.  Within twenty-four hours, everyone on board knew Alpha Genesis had claimed its first victim—although very few saw it in that light.  Despite rumors that a pale, empty-eyed Reika had been seen being led from sickbay like a shuffling, slack-jawed automaton, the rank and file celebrated the event as if it were some kind of weird rebirth.

Unfortunately, Reika’s case served notice that there are, indeed, still heretics among the faithful—poor, misguided individuals every bit as unbalanced as Ke-Ling.  If your average citizen was eager to save us from ourselves before Reika confessed, he’s fanatical about it now.  Witch hunt, feeding frenzy, take your pick.  However you describe the social climate, it adds up to us, neck deep in trouble.

On top of all that, Eran was right about the cameras.  Yesterday, the Council announced a plan to start installing them in the corridors.  They’re supposed to go on line in about six weeks.  Like Eran said, our quarters will probably be next.  Adding up the events of the past seven days, I’m thinking he and Rune better get a move on and tie up the loose ends on that top-secret plan of theirs.  Otherwise, we’re dead meat.

I said the week had two bright spots.  The other was the amazing conversion of Etsuo Koizumi, the Janus’ chief engineer.  Seriously, this guy has the best wake-up story we’ve heard so far.  He came around after his psych evaluation—because of it, no less!  Here’s how Eran and I found out about it:

Two days ago, Rune invited us over for dinner.  Since everything hit the fan, he’s been using the two of us as couriers. That’s what he calls us, by the way.  Either that, or his “communications pipeline.”  There was a time I would have laughed at Rune’s penchant for code words, skulking, and skullduggery—okay, maybe not out loud, but quietly, to myself.  Not now.  Now, I’m scaling a steep learning curve, scrambling to cultivate a few of those same qualities myself for survival purposes.  If my self-help program works out as well as I hope it will, skullduggery will be my middle name before long.

Now, where was I?  Oh, yeah.  Rune invited us to dinner.

“How are they holding up?” he asked as we dug into an immense salad of field greens, apples, raisins, soy feta, and walnuts.  In the center of the large oval table, lamb kebabs steamed on a bed of saffron rice; and the warm, yeasty aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from a braided bread basket.  Drizzling raspberry vinaigrette over the heap on my plate, I concentrated on masking my astonishment.  Rune could cook!

“Doing amazingly well,” Eran answered.

Rune nodded approvingly as he passed him the bread.  “I’ve got to hand it to them, as far as nerves go, they’re as steady a bunch as I’ve ever worked with.”  He picked up his fork.  “If we can get them to think before they act, we’ll have it made.”

Eran’s lips curved as he slathered on the butter.  “If you’re referring to Aduviri and his two protégées, I believe you managed to drive home your point.  I don’t imagine they’ll wax careless again any time soon.”

“Did Lu give you our message?” I asked.

Rune forked up some salad.  “You mean the one about Cruz?”  He nodded.  “Yeah, she passed it along.  Pretty smooth about it, too.”  He popped the salad into his mouth.  He chewed and dug back into the salad.

Finally, I couldn’t stand the suspense.  “Well?”

He cocked an eyebrow.  “Well, what?”

“What do you mean, well what?”  I glanced from him to Eran and back again.  “Enid Huw told Marisol Cruz to spy on you!”

“So?”

“So doesn’t that worry you?”

He took another bite of salad, regarding me thoughtfully while he chewed.  “Not particularly,” he decided once he had swallowed.  He calmly picked up his glass of water and drank.

I was baffled.  “Why not?”

“A couple of reasons.  Kebab?” he asked, holding out the platter.  I was tempted to fold my arms across my chest and glare at him until I got the explanation I wanted, but that lamb smelled awfully good.  My stomach picked that exact moment to gurgle loudly in agreement.  “Try the rice, too,” Rune suggested, grinning.

I gave in and helped myself, ignoring Eran’s quiet chuckle.  “Thank you,” I said with all the dignity I could muster.

“I’m not particularly worried,” Rune explained, angling the platter toward Eran, “because, one, this came as no surprise.  I planted a bug in Enid’s office weeks ago.”

I gaped at him.  “When?”

“Back when I was trying to save Ke-Ling’s … uh, right after I told her and Lawler to hold off on their visit to Garan.”

Eran raised his eyebrows in admiration.  “Well done.”

“Tradecraft 101,” Rune shrugged.  “I wanted to keep tabs on her, make sure she didn’t get any ideas about going to Garan in spite of our little heart-to-heart.  Turns out, that device is coming in even handier than I expected.  Plenty to see and hear, now that things are heating up.  Anyway, it just so happened I was listening in when she tasked Cruz.”

I was incensed.  “You knew one of your own people was spying on you, and you didn’t tell us?”

“You going to stab me with that, Red?”  I glanced down to find my skewer pointed directly at his chest.  “Relax.  I knew what I was doing.  I can handle Cruz.”

“All right, fine.”  I balanced the tip of the skewer on my plate and used my fork to slide meat and onions off my erstwhile weapon.  “But just for kicks, suppose you tell us how you’re going to handle her?  You bugged Enid’s office … suppose Marisol bugs you?”  The possibility having belatedly occurred to me, I ducked my head and lowered my voice.  “How do we know she’s not monitoring us right now?”

“Kai’s got a point,” Eran reckoned quietly.

“No, Kai’s got her sleeve in her rice,” Rune corrected calmly.  “Listen, I was playing the intelligence game when Cruz was still in diapers,” he continued, lips twitching as I lifted my arm to scowl at my soiled green sleeve.  “That’s reason number two why I’m not worried.  Don’t get me wrong, she’s a good operative, and I don’t plan to underestimate her.  As it so happens, I’m better.  As for the chance she might eavesdrop on me ….  Hell, everything that happens in my office is recorded anyway—standard operating procedure.  Cruz knows that; she isn’t going to risk her neck to get data that’s already available to her.  Which leaves what?  My quarters?”  He shook his head.  “Not happening.  I sweep every room once in the morning and again when I come home.  As a matter of fact, I give the whole place a thorough going over every time I come in, even if I’ve only been gone half an hour.”

“Sounds like you’ve got everything covered,” Eran nodded, then glanced at me.  “Satisfied, darling?”

“Hmm,” I said.

“There’s one more thing,” Rune added.  “Maybe the most important reason I’m not worried.  Huw and Cruz aren’t actually suspicious of me.  They’re just keeping an eye on things.”

I shook my head as I hurriedly swallowed rice and lamb.  “If they’re not suspicious of you, why did Marisol drag poor Isidor in for questioning?”

“Fishing expedition,” he replied succinctly.  “And from what I saw on my private video feed from Cruz’s quarters—”

“You bugged her quarters, too?” I interrupted.

“As soon as I heard that agreement go down between them.”  Rune smiled thinly.  “Anyway, based on what I saw, I’d say Aduviri handled himself like a real pro.  He doesn’t know it, but after he left, Cruz told Huw she could have every confidence in me.”

“Did Marisol sound disappointed?” I wondered.

Rune’s brow furrowed.  “Disappointed?  Not that I noticed.  Why?”

“Isidor thinks she’s after your job.”

Rune’s eyes danced with a secret amusement.  “Is that right?” he murmured.  “Be careful what you wish for, Marisol.”

I was about to ask him what he meant, when the computer announced Etsuo Koizumi.  “Good,” said Rune, tossing his napkin on the table as he stood, “he’s here.”  Eran and I shared a surprised, speechless glance, dropped our forks, and hurried into the salon after him.

Short, square, barrel-chested Etsuo Koizumi wore pale gray overalls and thick-soled, square-toed boots.  A black buzz cut hugged a round head that sat low on his thick neck.  His eyes were almond-shaped slits in a broad, fleshy face bisected by a nose that had obviously been broken, at least once.  His expression was stoic right down to the noncommittal line of his small, plump mouth.

“Thanks for coming, Koizumi.”  Rune waved a hand in our direction.  “You know Kai-Lee Fox and Eran Symon?  They’re the people I told you about.”  When the ship’s chief engineer stiffly inclined his head in our direction, Rune clapped him on the shoulder.  “Relax, pal, you’re among friends.  Why don’t we all sit down?”

Eran, Rune, and I chose the sofa, Etsuo took the chair across from us.  He sat bolt upright, legs braced apart, hands on his knees.  He looked us over for a few seconds, then fixed his gaze on Rune.  “You said there were more.  Eleven.”

Rune nodded.  “You make twelve.”

“Where are the others?”

“Around,” said Rune, grinning.

Okay, Rune’s offbeat sense of humor was getting us nowhere fast.  I scowled at him then smiled at Etsuo but couldn’t tell if my attempt at friendliness set the engineer at ease, because his expression didn’t change.  “We have to be careful about getting everybody together,” I offered.

“We have to be especially careful when associating with Rune,” Eran added.  “It wouldn’t do to have his name repeatedly linked with a specific group.  He has to maintain some distance, some semblance of impartiality, if he’s going to continue to run interference for us.”

Etsuo gave a curt nod and grunt.

“We’ll arrange for you to meet the others soon enough,” Rune assured him.  “Why don’t you tell my friends your story?  You’re going to love this,” he murmured to Eran and me.

Koizumi’s obsidian gaze flicked over each of our faces.  Telling stories obviously wasn’t high on his list of favorite pastimes.  “I am a practical man,” he finally began with gruff reluctance.  “Better with machines than people.  People talk too much, stir up commotions.  I have no time for gossip or political debates.  I like harmony.  I mind my own business, I do my work.

“Still, I was not unaffected by Yan’s actions.  I experienced great shock and sadness.  I am not without feelings,” he admitted grudgingly.  “But to make such a video, end his span, destroy his own DNA … I could make no sense of these things.  Then, at the assembly Enid Huw talked about the pain of losing his work. That I understood.  My work is important to me.  If I believed I could no longer do it ….”  He shrugged.

“But what did you make of the things he said?” pressed Eran.

Another shrug.  “What should I have made of them?  The experts told us he was unhinged.  He jumped to conclusions and committed foolish acts.  His coworkers had ideas worthy of consideration; he should have listened and reflected.  I felt he had committed a very bad wrong.  I felt … embarrassment.”

Eran tilted his head.  “So, what happened to change your mind?”

“Psych evaluation.”

I squinted at him, not sure I had heard right. “You changed your mind after the evaluation?”  He nodded.

Rune chuckled darkly.  “This is where it gets good.”

“I do not care for philosophies,” Koizumi grumbled.  “I like solid things, things I can get my hands on.”

“But Ke-Ling’s ‘philosophy,’ as you call it, is different?” Eran guessed.

Etsuo scrubbed a hand across the crown of his bristled head.  “I do not understand how it happened.  I was calm after the evaluation.  What was all this to me?  Words.  Bah!  I returned to the well-ordered serenity of my work.  All was as it should be for two days.  But on the third night I woke up with a thought—a clear vision in my mind.  Perfect.  Like a pearl.”  He scowled, obviously uncomfortable with his own lyrical simile.  “I was unable to put it away from me.”

“What did you see?” I asked, enthralled.

“Faces like masks.  The fear behind the masks.”

“Whose faces?  Whose fear?”

“Huw and Iakona.  Garan.  All of them.  ‘Why are they scared,’ a small voice whispered, ‘if the things Ke-Ling said were craziness?’”

It took a second for me to find my own voice.  “Enid Huw would tell you they’re worried because of the unsettling effect Ke-Ling’s ideas have had on everyone aboard.”

Etsuo shook his head firmly.  “I was with them for three days.  We looked in each other’s eyes.  I did not recognize the fear then, but when I woke up that night, I saw it clearly.  They are afraid they, too, will die one day.  They are afraid Ke-Ling was right.”

“And what do you think?” Eran prompted.

“I know he was.”  Koizumi’s lips thinned.  “I cannot give you reasons.  What do I know about making arguments?”  He thumped a fist in the center of his chest.  “But here, I know.”

For a minute or two the salon was completely silent.  Finally, Eran murmured sympathetically, “Poor old chap.  I imagine life seemed a lot simpler when it was just you and the Janus.”

“Simpler,” I said, “but not nearly as exciting.”  Etsuo’s only answer was a sardonic grunt.

Eran turned to Rune.  “What happens now?”

“You two take him under your wing.”  Rune paused.  “Discretely, of course.”

“Of course,” agreed Eran.  “However, this does bring up a concern that has crossed my mind more than once lately.  Kai-Lee and I are hanging out with a number of people outside our traditional friendship circle.  Won’t our new social set raise a few eyebrows?”

Rune mulled it over briefly before slowly shaking his head.  “I doubt it.  The past few weeks have shaken the entire Colony up pretty dramatically; friendship circles are shifting like crazy.”

“I’ll use that very explanation, if anyone asks,” Eran nodded.  He smiled thinly.  “It has the advantage of being true.”

“Meanwhile,” Rune said, “Koizumi’s being one of us puts a whole new spin on things.”

“That it does,” Eran said, eyes narrowing.

“What things?” I asked.

“I explained the plan to him,” Rune went on.

“What plan?” I asked.

Eran looked at Etsuo.  “What do you think?”

Another grunt.  “Not impossible.”

“Not impossible won’t cut it.  The plan damn well better be possible and then some,” muttered Rune.  “We’re running out of time and options.”

“Will one of you please tell me what’s going on?” I cried.

Eran glanced questioningly at Rune, Rune turned to me.  “Be patient, Red.  You’ll know everything soon enough.”

“How soon is soon enough?”

His expression turned grim.  “The way things are going?  Sooner than any of us would like.”

CHAPTER 39

“Nooooooooooooo!”

The anguished roar froze us in our tracks, our faces snapshots of blank incomprehension. No one on board the Janus had ever heard a cry like it. A heartbeat later, the tableau in the corridor splintered as everyone present turned abruptly, heads whipping toward the sound of running feet.

Hugo Matheson tore into view, wild-eyed and white-faced, his long legs eating up the passageway in obvious headlong flight. Lu and I instinctively backed out of the way, joining thirty or so other people now pressed against the bulkheads. Putting on a burst of speed as a clear path opened ahead of him, Hugo shot a panicked glance over his left shoulder to find Rune Gaspar and Bill Stallings a few yards back and gaining. The backwards glance threw Matheson off balance, and he stumbled. Screaming curses, he fought to regain his footing, but his own momentum worked against him, and he hit the deck hard, crashing onto his right shoulder and careening into the bulkhead as stunned onlookers scrambled to get out of the way. Rune and his fellow agent were on him in a heartbeat. He struggled wildly, trying to buck them off, but they had him pinned in seconds.

“Settle down, Matheson!” Rune growled. He was on his knees, straddling Hugo’s back, one hand clamped around the taller man’s wrists, which he quickly bound with a black zip tie. Once that was done, Gaspar turned to the big, blond Stallings. “You can get off his legs now. I’ve got him.”

“You sure?”

Rune swiped a thumb through the perspiration on his forehead. “Yeah. Go get one of the docs. No sense making this harder than it has to be. They can give him something to make him easier to handle before we try take him back in there.” He glanced down at his captive. “Otherwise, he might decide to wrestle with us some more. He’s got a major problem as it is; I don’t want to see him bruised and battered on top of that.”

Stallings climbed to his feet and brushed off his navy tunic. With a uneasy, pitying glance at their prisoner, he nodded. “Yeah. All right.” He turned to stride quickly up the corridor.

Meanwhile, Hugo started to sob quietly, moaning over and over, “Please, let me go. Just let me go. I’m not hurting anyone.”

Swearing softly, Rune surveyed the astonished bystanders. “All right, break it up. We don’t need an audience.”

The small, shaken crowd dispersed uncertainly, as everyone struggled to get a handle on the frightening scene playing out in the corridor. Lowered heads and bewildered, darting glances testified to the fact that Hugo’s obvious escape attempt and subsequent capture had awakened primitive tremors of alarm on some dim, visceral level. But did the men and women stealing peeks at Rune as he stood and pulled the now quietly weeping, gangly redhead to his feet understand that in less than a minute the course of our history had shifted again? Physical coercion had made its debut among us: For the first time in more than four hundred years we had laid forcible hands on one another.

Lu and I started up the corridor, my own expression no doubt a mirror image of her pale distress. As we neared Rune, my eyes met his—mine round with questions he couldn’t answer right then, his filled with a tormented frustration that belied the lines of grim professionalism etching his hawk-like features. A second later Bill Stallings hurried back into view, Alis Jayson in tow. Mauve lab coat fluttering over her black slacks and turtleneck tunic, the doctor was really hustling to keep up with the long-legged agent. Seconds later, they stood next to Rune.

Lu and I drew even with the group as Alis held up a chrome injector no bigger than her thumb. It gleamed dully under the lights. “I understand you’re requesting a sedative?”

“Yeah.”

The physician’s pensive gaze scanned Matheson’s face, now a crumpled study in numb despair. She chewed her lip briefly before warning, “You realize this drug may impair his evaluation?” Lu and I kept moving, carefully averting our eyes while our ears strained to pick up as much of the conversation as possible before we passed out of range.

“He was undergoing evaluation,” we heard Rune answer, “when he lost it and took off. All we can do at this point is try to get him back to Enid Huw without hurting him or causing any more of an uproar than we already have.”

“That poor, sweet man,” whispered Lu when we were out of earshot. “I’ve always liked Hugo. He’s something of a Renaissance man, you know. It’s not every day you meet a nuclear technician who sketches and writes sonnets.”

Still unnerved by the dramatic turn of events, I shook my head somberly. “He’s in for it now, Lu, and there’s nothing any of us can do to help him—not even Rune. Not after that episode. Did you see his eyes? God!  And Rune …. He’ll blame himself for this. I know he will.”

“Alis didn’t look any too happy, either.”

“How could she? Day after day, those two have a ringside seat at the circus, forced to act like team players while they watch Enid and Jasun pick holes in people’s minds. And all the time, Rune and Alis are trying to stay one step ahead of the inquisition, hoping to save a few who have seen the light and watching their own Ps and Qs, so they don’t give themselves away. The strain must be unreal. To tell you the truth, I don’t know how they do it.”

“Me, either.” Lu drew a shaky breath. “Oh, Kai, I hate to think of Hugo in that woman’s clutches! Why, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. I can’t stand the thought of what they’ll do to him!”

“Try not to think about it.”

“How can I not think about it?” She sounded appalled.

“Look, Lu,” I said, “If we could come up with a way to help Hugo, that would be one thing. But there’s nothing we can do, and something tells me we’re going to have to stay focused on the parts of this we can control if we’re going to survive. This spells trouble for all of us. Our situation was bad enough before force entered the picture.  Judging by what we’ve just seen, I think it’s safe to say we just went from bad to a whole lot worse.”

Ω

© 2010, Kathy DiSanto, all rights reserved