Wednesday, February 29, 2012

dream

When I wake up in the morning and can't wait to get to my computer, I suppose that is a good thing. This morning I had to find pen and paper while the dogs were eating their breakfast - way before anyone should have to be awake - to write down the idea that had come to me during the hazy minutes right before I was fully awake.
Hopefully that idea will work out as well as it sounds in my head.


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Chapter 3

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                When the Alarm Klaxon sounded to indicate that we were entering Hyperspace, I silently thanked the Captain for the warning. I got up and stepped over to the window to watch, as the Draco slowly turned, the Stars outside sliding past us. As we moved faster and faster, the Stars began to blur, and suddenly there was a moment of blackness, as though all the lights in the Universe had been shut down. But then, sight returned and outside were the beautiful multicolored ribbons that meant we were in Hyperspace. I let my breath out in a long sigh, with relief as well as appreciation for the beauty of it. The ribbons, flowing past, separating and merging as we sped through them, seemed almost alive, conscious. Hypnotic.

                Tearing my eyes away from the view, I turned back to my desk. We had work to do. There was a Colony that wouldn’t have any food soon if we didn’t figure out what had happened to their Hydroponics Lab.

                “Mr. Parker, have you found anything yet?”

                “Not yet, Doctor. There is not much data on this Colony Six. We may need to wait until Headquarters is able to get us our supplies.”

                “All right then, do the best you can. You have other projects to work on as well. Thank you...”

                There was something, something unfamiliar in my mind. I shook my head and tried to focus on it. There were strangers aboard. The Admiral’s men, could that be it? Why would they have so abruptly invaded my thoughts? We’d had visitors before, and we often transported Officers from other Ships. There were strangers and aliens on the planets we visited. What was different about these? My eyes closed as I tried to focus. Nothing unusual came to me, in fact the more I directed my energy, the further away the sensations became.

                “All right, Elizabeth, this is ridiculous. You don’t have time for this. When the time comes, you will be introduced to these investigators. Don’t anticipate trouble. These are Fleet Officers, sent by the Admiral, after all.”

                With a mental shake, and a tug at my shirt, I went through into the main Lab to see what my Team was up to.



The term “Lab” was given to this Level before I came aboard the Draco. It is not particularly appropriate, nor descriptive of the actual enormity and import of it. The expanse of greenery, the pathways and workstations within, take up more than half the length of the Ship. The ceiling is so tall and the lighting so diffuse as to give a sense of strolling through a park on Earth.

As usual, my eyes went first to the plantings. It was so lush and green, so fragrant, with the flowers and grasses, the lettuces and melons in their various beds and mediums. And beyond, at the far end of the Lab, I could see my trees. They are huge, of course, they supply a good portion of the Oxygen for the Ship. They are my pride and joy, my pet project, always. The grove, so cool and serene, is my favorite getaway spot, when I have too much on my mind, when I need to relax and  unwind by myself. And of course the Captain knows that he can find me there, meet me there, and no-one will disturb us...

                My thoughts had wandered again, and I had to force myself to refocus. I ran my fingers down my left arm, finally able to watch as the movement of the vines followed behind like the wake of a watercraft. By this time I had recovered my composure and begun to accept the situation for what it was. I did not feel sad or afraid, only fascinated by the technology, the supreme artistry of science that had allowed such a thing to be possible. Our blood, my Captain’s and mine, had been fused together with alien plant-like cells, forced upon us by the residents of what we had thought was a peaceful planet. The result of which fusion was not only to turn our blood a lovely shade of purple, but it had given us each these living tattoos on our arms. Fortunately for us, the changes to our blood cells had given us a stronger ability to communicate with each other, and, for me, the ability to know how to repair the damage caused to that planet by some ferocious mercenaries.

                With another mental shake, I went to the workstation to see what my Ensigns were working on.

                “All right, Mr. Miller, Mr. Parker, show me what you’re doing and what I can do to help.”

                Ensign Miller’s gratitude for my offer was not a surprise, and yet it always was. Ensign Walter Miller, a serious young man with aspirations only to do his job well, was, in my opinion, one of the greatest assets aboard the Draco. Quietly doing his work, always on time for his shifts, never complaining. He had a way of just knowing where to look for data, and what tests should be run. His instincts about mediums, solutions, and locations were absolutely impeccable. The only thing that had ever made me uncomfortable about my Mr. Miller was his constant underlying feelings of gratitude toward me. I had tried to tell him, many times, that his talent was his own, his knowledge and experience did himself proud, with or without me. But he wouldn’t hear of it, so I had no choice but to accept his thanks.

                I gave his shoulder a squeeze and nodded to the terminal screen. “Show me what you’re up to.”

                He glanced up at me quickly, and then turned back to the monitor, smiling as he felt my attention. His fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up the data on his latest tests. Smiling back at him, I pulled up a chair and let him take the lead.

               

                A few hours and many trips back and forth to the analyzers later, we all three looked at each other in faux surprise. We were realizing that once again we had lost track of time and the afternoon was long gone. I silently got up and began to wipe down the analyzers and tools at the worktable, in preparation for the evening’s shutdown. Since all of the tools had to be cleaned in between each use and between each sample, there was not much to do, so I shook my head when my Team moved to help me. It was our usual daily dance. They were usually the ones still working until the last minute and beyond, so I took it upon myself to get the clearing-away done.

                “Go on, you two. I’m almost finished here. Go on, have supper with your families.”

                “Thank you, Doctor Liz.” “Thank you, Ma’am.” I couldn’t tell which of them had called me Ma’am without being intrusive, so I had to let it go. They took off their lab-coats and drew on their uniform jackets before once more thanking me and heading out into the corridor. As the heavy metal door slid silently shut behind them, I looked around to make sure the Lab work area was as clean as I could get it. The Crewmembers in charge of cleaning would take care of the floors, but this was my Lab. It was up to me to keep it up to Fleet standards, and my own. There is no amount of automation which would substitute for the care that I and my Team take of our Lab. I do not allow the machines in my areas, not even my office. The Captain took issue with this at first, but he soon realized that was an argument he could not win.

                There is a small cabinet in my office where I keep some supplies, a broom, a mop, dustcloths. After reaching out to my Captain and finding him deeply involved with his meeting with the investigators, I decided to go ahead and do some of the cleaning myself. Taking the dustmop and a few cloths in hand, I strolled out through the plantings toward the grove. I thought I could work my way back toward my office, sweeping as I went. It was a good plan, but unfortunately in my world, plans do not always go as planned.

                About halfway up the walk to the grove, of course I kept getting distracted by the plantings as I passed. There was a brown leaf here needing to be cut, a dry bed there that needed its watering circuit reset. There was an overripe melon that I had to get rid of. The time of course got away from me, I had no idea how long I had been at it when I felt my husband’s touch in my mind, and heard his voice over the communicator.

                “Doctor Thorne.”

                “Captain.”

                “There are some people I would like you to meet. Please come back to your office.”

                “On my way, Sir.” I carried the cleaning implements back to the workstation and laid them on the floor next to the table. Wishing I’d had time to at least look in a mirror, I ran my hands through my wild hair and hoped for the best. Buttoning my lab-coat, I took a deep breath, let it out and took another as I stepped to the door that led to my office.

                The door slid open to reveal the Captain standing by my desk, handsomely imposing in his flawless uniform, and three other men with him. None of the three were wearing a uniform, and that surprised me. I had assumed that Admiral Wilson’s investigators would be Fleet Officers. There was no reason for that, just my own, incorrect, assumption. Yet it surprised me, and  my feelings probably escaped me, judging by the looks on the faces of all four of the men.

                Feeling more self-conscious than ever, I brushed my hands on my coat and stepped closer. The Captain smiled at me, the special smile that stops my heart every time. He held out his hand, beckoning to me as he nodded to the strangers.

                “Doctor Thorne, I would like you to meet our guests. This is Agent Morgan, Agent Lindon, and Agent Trent.” As each was introduced, they nodded their heads briefly, looking piercingly at me with exactly the same expression on their faces. I took a step back as I felt their regard, so intense and curious. And yet, there was a something, something underneath those stares. Something I couldn’t identify, and it gave me a chill.

The sudden pricking stab caused me to unconsciously rub my arm, hugging myself.

                “Oh. My.”

                “Elizabeth? What is it?”    

                “It’s my right arm, Captain. It feels... itchy.” Inside my head, I added, “Please, Paolo, we can talk about this later.”

                His concern washing through me, he still managed to stay calm as he said, “These Agents are here to assist us in finding the Agrints and their current allies. They may need to ask you some questions about our previous encounters with them. I would like you to answer them as best you can, you may have some insight that will lead us further than anything else.”

                “Of course, Sir. Anything I can do.”

                “However, I will insist on being present for any and all  questioning.” He looked over at the three Agents, still staring holes into me, their fascination with me and my abilities clear on their faces and in their auras. “Is that understood? There will be no questioning of my wife without clearing it through me first.”

                The Agents all nodded as one. There was still an underlying something, just enough to know it was there, but not specific enough to tell which, if any, of these men it was coming from. Perhaps... perhaps it was being covered up on purpose? I shook my head. That would take too much control, too much for an ordinary Sympath, too much coincidence.

                What was I thinking? These men came from Federation Headquarters! They had been chosen by our Admiral. If there was anything untoward going on here, it had to be from an outside source. I must have let some of my thoughts show on my face, because the Captain was looking at me strangely.

                “Doctor, are you all right? Perhaps you should sit down. We can adjourn for now and pick this up tomorrow.” His warmth wrapped around me as his concern came to the surface.

                The Agents were watching both of us with great interest. They were all three silent, simply observing, reserving their comments and questions for their own time. Their minds were all quite complex, all feeling so chaotic to me, so many layers of emotions and yet so suppressed. It was such a foreign concept for me, people who actually wanted to keep their emotions in check, who didn’t want to feel, whose very lives and work depended on not feeling. It made me uncomfortable, perhaps the way my abilities made people like this uncomfortable.

                “No, Sir. I’m all right. Did you want to get started now?”

                Once again I ran my hands through my hair, wondering just how dreadful I looked. The intent gazes of the Agents, one of them in particular, made me want to hide under my desk. But I forced myself to remain calm, breathing deeply and slowly as I returned their attention.

                The Captain shook his head. “No, Doctor. We shall pick this up in the morning. It is getting late. Our guests will be shown to their quarters... Ensign Jackson.”

                “Aye, Sir?” An unfamiliar voice.

                “Come in, Ensign. The Agents are ready to be shown to their quarters.”

                There was a wash of annoyance from the Agents as they realized they had been summarily dismissed.  As my office door opened  to reveal an Ensign that I didn’t know personally, they still turned as one and stepped out into the corridor. Their irritation wafted behind them in a trail as they walked away and the door closed. They were not happy that they had been thwarted in their determination to question me immediately. But they also knew that we were under the same orders as they were, and Captain Bianchi would make certain that the mission was fulfilled.

                As soon as the others were out of sight, the Captain came back and put his arms around me. I allowed myself to relax fully, enjoying the strength of him, the scent of him, the warmth of him. As he pulled me closer and kissed my forehead, then my cheek, my heart beat faster, my skin flushed. For a few moments we simply stood there, together.

                “What happened, Elizabeth? What didn’t you want those Agents to know?” His lips against my neck, so soft, his voice so tender and so troubled.

                “It was my arm, Captain. My right arm.”

                He pulled back to look in my face, but then only tilted his head and frowned, uncomprehending.

                “My right arm, where the tracker is. It burned, Paolo. It shouldn’t do that.”

                His eyes opened wide. “No. Indeed it should not. Come with me.” He took my hand and led me out into the corridor, to the lift.

                “Level Twenty. Engineering.”

                “Captain, what...? Oh.”

                The lift traveled slowly on its way to the Engineering Department. As it went, I tried to imagine what could have happened. Our technicians are among the best in the Federation, they did not often make mistakes. I could only hope that it was some sort of random malfunction, and not something more sinister.

               

                Lieutenant Dalton, head of the Engineering Department, looked up as we entered. She was surprised, but recovered quickly as the Captain held up his hand and motioned her over.

                “Captain Bianchi, Sir. What can we do for you?”

                The rest of the Crew kept on with their work, even as they were glancing our way. Their calm efficiency was not much disturbed by their Captain’s unannounced visit, but I could tell that they wanted to know what was going on. As I looked around at the Bay, I was once again struck by the air of power, the power of the Ship all around me. This was where the great engines were maintained, where the lasers, torpedoes and shields were built and repaired when necessary. The Engineering Department is the muscle of the Ship, as the Bridge is the brain. The hum and pulsation of the engines is quite soothing in its way, a tangible reassurance.

                “We need you to check Doctor Thorne’s tracker implant, Lieutenant. There may have been a malfunction.”

                “Really. All right, Sir. Doctor Liz, please come over here.”

                I followed the Lieutenant to her personal workstation, a small cubicle, immaculately organized. She brought out a hand-held scanner and motioned me to sit in her chair. As she moved the scanner over my arm, her face remained impassive.

                “Liz, please take off your coat.”

                As I unbuttoned the lab-coat and shrugged it off over my shoulders, I could feel the eyes of the Engineering Crew, curious. Trying to sit sideways to keep my left arm out of the general view, I lifted my right and looked at it. There was nothing unusual, no markings, no bruises, nothing. The Captain gazed down at me, his eyes troubled.

                The hand scanner showed no damage. We moved over to the larger unit, the one used to analyze engine parts and fuel. Lieutenant Dalton took my arm and laid it over the scanner bed. When the light came on and the hum began, I felt another jolt of fire in my bicep. I managed to keep still and quiet, but I bit right through my lip doing so. The Captain jumped as he felt my burst of pain, and he was by my side in an instant, taking my left hand in his. When he saw the streak of dark purple blood on my lips, he reached out a finger to wipe it away.

                “Ensign! Get a cloth and warm water. Now, bring it here. Please.”

                The momentary shock at hearing the Captain say Please was overridden almost as quickly by the necessity of helping me. There was a cup of water and a soft cloth on the table almost before I realized what was happening. My right arm still on the scanner, being analyzed and examined by Lieutenant Dalton, my left hand still in the loving grip of my husband, I couldn’t do much to help myself. I allowed him to blot the blood off my face, so gently as he watched my eyes carefully.

                “It’s all right, Captain. I was just surprised.”

                “Elizabeth. You have cut yourself, bitten straight through. You do not react this way, not to bodily pain, not even at our wedding. What is different now?”

                That was a good question. What indeed? At our wedding, that beautiful surprise ceremony on the beach, our fingers had been pierced by the rings as they embedded themselves into our flesh. Though we could not have known at the time, those rings would be the beginning of a series of wonderful, and frightening events. However, the Captain was correct. The pain of the organic metal crunching its way through my bone had not elicited this response. Why was this particular pain different? I shook my head.

                “I’m not sure, Sir. Perhaps I am just tired. It’s been a long day.” I smiled up at him. “And I did not get very much sleep last night.”

                His hand clasped mine even tighter. His warmth washed over me as his concern came once again to the surface. He ignored the curious looks of the Crew as he gently touched my lips with the wet cloth, making sure the blood had stopped flowing. As I opened my mouth to speak again, he stopped me by bending down and kissing me. There was the slightest bit of burning as his lips met mine, but the tenderness of his kiss was irresistible.

                The Lieutenant squeezed my hand to let me know that she was finished with her scan. Smiling up at my husband, I pulled my hand back. Even though I wanted nothing more at that moment than to continue kissing him, we had more immediate concerns.

                I forced myself to turn away from him, and, taking a deep, somewhat shaky breath, asked, “So, Lieutenant, do you see anything unusual?”

                She frowned. “Actually, yes, Liz... Um, Sir, there seems to have been a burn-out of one of the circuits. I don’t know how it could have happened, these trackers are usually completely reliable.”

                “Usually is not good enough, Lieutenant. You have another unit to replace this one?”

                “Yes, Sir, of course.”

                It was disconcerting to me listening to them talking about me as though I wasn’t there. But I knew that my Captain had only my safety in mind. So I waited as calmly as I could while they called in Doctor Palmer to administer the anaesthetic spray. I kept a tight grip on my husband’s hand as the laser cut into my bicep, and the pincers reached in to grasp the old tracker. When that one had been implanted, almost two years before, I had been unconscious, and knew nothing of it until afterwards, and I wished that were the case this time as well. However, it was over very quickly. The old unit was placed into a secure container for further analysis. The new unit was in my arm, and I didn’t feel a thing. There was a sense of relief, not only my own, as the Lieutenant tested the reaction of the unit and all lights were green.

                “Keep me informed, Lieutenant. I want to know exactly what happened here. You will need to retest all of the Crew as well to be certain that there are no other malfunctions.”

                “Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir.” She nodded to me, smiling, then motioned to me that I was free to go.

                Doctor Palmer stood to the side, watching. She was there to oversee the procedure, not only as the Chief Medical Doctor, but as my friend. Her mind was clear, she was satisfied that all was well, a great reassurance to me. She stepped up to me as I stood up, slowly, and hugged me.

                “You’re all set, Liz. Let me know if you feel any discomfort as the anaesthetic wears off.”

                “Will do, Doc. Thank you.”

                Her smile lit up her face as she added, “And don’t forget we need to meet with Jenny tomorrow to go over her plans for the decorations.” The amusement, and tolerance, in her voice was matched by my own.

                “I won’t, Marla. Level Eight Lounge. I’ll be there.”

                The Captain listened to this exchange with a slight smile curving his lip. He knew, through me, that Jenny was extremely nervous about her upcoming wedding. He didn’t quite understand that, as he is so secure in our relationship, never having any doubts. But he did understand the friendship, and my need to be there for her.

                However, there was a feeling and tone of impatience as he said, “We must go now, Elizabeth. You must rest.”

                He put his hand on my shoulder, turned me around, and directed me toward the doorway. The huge, double-reinforced metal doors slid aside as we neared, and we stepped out into the brightly lit corridor.

Brightly lit, that is, until the lights seemed to go out all at once. Something, something scratchy and strangely pungent was put over my face. A heavy, unfamiliar arm wrapped around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides, pulling me backward. The Captain’s hand was gone from mine, his mental voice weak as he called out to me. He was losing consciousness, though I was not. The stabbing pain in my head told me who was behind this attack, though not where he was. As I opened my mouth to cry out, something, a piece of fabric, was thrust into it, silencing me, choking me.

                I heard as the doors clicked shut and locked behind us. None of us had made a sound, there was no Crew in the corridor that I could sense, no-one would be aware that anything untoward was happening, unless... I tried to broadcast my fear, my shock, to anyone, everyone... then thought of one more thing.

                “Commander Quinn, can you hear me? Please, can you feel me?” I thought at him as hard as I could, hoping that our friendship and our previous connection would allow him to hear me now. I felt a reaction through my pain, though I couldn’t be certain what direction it was coming from.

                There was a great burst of light, visible even through the thick cloth still over my eyes, and another jolt of fire in my arm.  The sensations from our Crew vanished from my mind.



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