Challenging Destiny #23 Read online

  "A question? From the Captain?” It was a strange notion. There were only two ranks aboard the ship, the Captain and everyone else. Everyone else asked but the Captain gave orders; it was what being Captain was all about.

  "Well, not so much a question as a job offer, one you're free to decline.” Lynette leaned over her desk, her eyes meeting his squarely. “Collin, do you remember the last time you were in my office?"

  Collin's eyes dropped to the floor, looking anywhere but at Lynette. It had been seven years but he wasn't likely to forget his last visit here. The question wasn't fair; it was clearly out of bounds. The ship contained a mere three hundred and twelve souls; certain rules had to be observed to insure everyone got along, and some things were not to be discussed. Still, Lynette was waiting for his answer, her eyes steadfast. Muted by shame, unable to met her unflinching gaze directly, Collin whispered his answer.

  "Yes."

  "Collin, the Captain wants you to be a watcher."

  "A what?"

  "A watcher.” Lynette repeated, seemingly satisfied by his confusion. “We're taking on a new crew member, and the Captain wants you to watch over her."

  "Watch over her?” Collin frowned. “You mean show her around, let her know how things work, that sort of thing?"

  "No.” Lynette shook her head. “The Captain wants you to watch her and when she tries to kill herself, well, you don't have to stop her yourself but you need to sound the alarm so we can try and save her. You need to know up front that not all suicides can be prevented—it's possible this newbie will off herself in such a way that she can't be saved. In that case, we need to take precautions to insure she doesn't take the rest of the ship with her. You don't need to worry about all that, though—your job is just to watch her."

  "A suicide watch?” Collin frowned but he understood now why Lynette had asked him about his last visit to her office. “What makes you think this woman will try to kill herself?"

  Lynette smiled and, seeing Collin's confused expression, her laughter escaped her efforts to contain it. “Oh Collin,” she managed, “everyone tries to kill themselves. I told you that the last time you were here. Everyone tries. Have you ever met anyone who didn't?"

  "Well...” Collin looked around the room. It wasn't something you talked about, wasn't something you asked about. A small ship needed boundaries. Still, it was hard to imagine some people ever reaching so desperate a state. His eyes strayed towards Lynette and, catching his look, she laughed again.

  "That's very flattering, Collin, but completely wrong. For the record, I tried to vent myself out an airlock six months after coming aboard. Traditional, I know, but you've got to love a classic. The Captain was more inventive—on his first ship he impressed the crew by trying to drown himself in a reclamation tank. An adventure in odour apparently, but it showed impressive frugalness. The point is, Collin: Everyone attempts suicide, so everyone gets watched. Some can be saved, some can't, but we watch them all."

  Collin digested this. Lynette seemed to be waiting for some sort of response but all Collin could manage was, “Oh."

  "There are rules, do you want to hear them?"

  Collin nodded.

  "Four rules, they're pretty simple. Number one: Being a watcher is secret. At some point you'll be tempted to tell the newbie you're her watcher. Don't, and don't tell anyone else either. It just makes things more difficult."

  "But—"

  "No.” Lynette cut off his objection. “I'll be here to help you, so will the Captain, nobody else needs to know. It's for the best. If this newbie does kill herself, you'll want to take the blame and that'll be hard to resist if others are blaming you too. Trust me on this, we've done it before and secret is the best way."

  Reluctantly, Collin nodded.

  "Number two: Being her watcher gives you full access. The computer will let you see her wherever she is, let you read what she reads, watch what she watches, examine her files. This is a trust the Captain places in you, do not betray it. You're there to save her, not take advantage, sexually or otherwise."

  "I wouldn't—"

  "It's not a reflection on you, Collin, it's a rule. You need to understand what's expected of a watcher. Okay? Rule three then: If you need to choose between saving the watched and saving the ship, save the ship."

  "Bit obvious that,” Collin remarked.

  "Obvious but heroic. If you like that, you'll love the last one. Watchers are not allowed to commit suicide until a year after their watch is over. Those are the rules, any questions?"

  Collin shifted in his seat. “Why me?"

  "Because the Captain picked you. I don't know why but I know he has a reason, he always does. You can say no, this isn't an order, but if you're going to decline I need to know before Victela comes aboard. Once you're her watcher, you'll stay her watcher until she's lost, saved or the Captain removes you from the post. So, we break orbit in two days, think about it—"

  "I'll do it.” Collin interrupted.

  Lynette raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. “You certain?"

  Collin shrugged but answered, “Yeah. I don't know why I'm sure, but I am. I'll do it."

  "Okay then.” Lynette's fingers stabbed at her keyboard, and a picture of an earnest young woman with soft features and dark-honey hair appeared on a monitor. “Her name is Victela,” Lynette said. “Her test scores are outstanding, wrote her Masters on Jovian planetary evolution. Some space experience, strictly orbital, of course, but still. An only child, her parents were killed when she was a teenager—"

  "Does that make her more or less likely to suicide?” Collin asked.

  Lynette shrugged. “Makes no difference really. You need to stop thinking that way, Collin. There's nothing wrong with her—there was nothing wrong with you when you tried to kill yourself. Suicide is a perfectly reasonable response to what we go through out here. People are meant to live on planets, Collin, not spacecraft. Some of us find ways to make our lives work out here, some don't. Anyway, her files are in the computer and you've full access. Any time you want to talk about her, call me. Call the Captain if you like—” Seeing his startled reaction Lynette carried on, “—or just talk to me."

  Lynette stood but Collin lingered in his chair, suddenly curious. “So,” he tried to sound casual, “I had a watcher?"

  "You did.” Lynette returned his smile.

  "Was it Moe?"

  "No, it was the person who sent Moe to pull you out of there. Don't look at me like that, it wasn't me and I'm not going to tell you who it was. Rule number one, remember?"

  Collin stood. “And you've no idea why the Captain picked me for this?"

  Lynette shook her head.

  "Would you tell me if you knew?"

  "If I knew, I'd tell you,” Lynette admitted, seeing him out the door. “I only know there's a reason and that's enough for me."

  It wasn't enough for Collin. He spent the night examining Victela's records, searching for some hint as to why the Captain selected him for this job. He found nothing beyond the obvious: they were both scientists, both scored in the top two percent of their respective classes, both volunteered for interstellar travel. More striking were their differences: Collin had come from a world in the midst of a generations long terra-forming attempt, whereas Victela was a Norian, from the garden world Elpenor. Collin had left behind both his parents and two sisters, and Victela had no immediate family. Collin's interest had always been in rocky planets and biology; Victela devoted herself to the mathematical realms of planetary formation and gravitational physics. Still, he was sure Lynette was right. The Captain picked him for a reason and Collin was determined to discover what the reason was.

  Victela came aboard the day they broke orbit. The ship continued pulling in its gantries and extensions, compressing its interior spaces until everything fit within the Bose-Einstein field generators but the process was leisurely. They were in Commonwealth space after all, in sight of the green world of Elpenor; it was something to savour before retur
ning to the unknown.

  Worried his interest might seem unusual, Collin waited until Victela had been aboard for a few hours before trying to catch a glimpse of her. Amir worked out the probe software problems and the two of them headed to one of the cubbies for a celebratory drink. Victela was there, her unfamiliar face a shock among the regular crew.

  "That's the new girl, isn't it?” Amir asked, craning his neck and staring unabashedly. He wasn't the only one gawking; Victela seemed surrounded by admirers. After years of the looking at the same faces, someone new was an irresistible novelty.

  She was more attractive than her picture, with a wide, inviting smile and dark, expressive eyes. Her first day aboard ship, having bested the rest of her planet to get here, and she found herself awash in suitors. Collin remembered his first day aboard, the dizzying intoxication of free-fall and pride. Sipping his drink, he wished Victela as much pleasure as the day could hold. Her world would change soon enough. It had changed for him; Lynette told him it changed for everyone and he believed her.

  "Come on,” Amir urged, pulling at his elbow.

  "What?” Collin was jarred out of his contemplation.

  "The newbie's going down the spin to watch something,” Amir said eagerly. “We should go too."

  "Why?” Collin couldn't help but ask.

  "Because,” Amir pressed, biting his lip. “She's new. Come on, Collin. Look, your favourite colour is green, your passwords are 8457, friglet and CTE-82, you've had homosexual lovers but prefer women, don't like strong drink—"

  "Who told you my 8457 password?” Collin asked.

  "Doesn't matter. Look, the point is we know each other far too well. We know everyone far too well, we can't help it. It's a small ship. Don't open your mouth, I know what you'll say: What's wrong with that? Nothing wrong with it but, look over there: Someone new! Who knows what she'll say? Who knows what she wants to watch? Could be anything. So drink up and let's follow her. Could be fun, or staggeringly mundane, or shocking even, but it'll be unpredictable. We won't know what it is unless we go, so let's go!"

  Finishing his drink, Collin allowed himself to be dragged down the spin. Past the hallway where Lynette's nameless office sat was a seldom-used lounge, made unpopular by gravity. Tonight, for the first time in Collin's memory, the place was packed. A screen showed some sort of sport, broadcast from Victela's home world.

  "What's that on their feet?” Amir asked, staring at the broadcast.

  "I think they're playing on ice,” Collin observed.

  "What, like water-ice? Must be cold. Why?"

  Collin shook his head. Amir came from a Commonwealth world called Circe, blessed with a warm climate. Collin's home world had no outdoors but they'd chipped ice off equipment often enough. “It makes the game fast,” Collin explained, watching as Victela leaned forward to watch the game.

  "I'm going ask her to have sex with me tonight,” Amir decided aloud.

  "Expect to be surprised by her answer?” Collin laughed. “Not a bad idea but you'll have to get in line. Bet Venks has already asked her."

  "He has not!” Amir seemed shocked by the idea.

  "Bet he has.” Collin smiled. “He asked me before I'd been aboard three hours."

  "He's never asked me,” Amir complained. He tried to watch the game but Collin could see his friend's eyes drifting constantly towards Victela. He needn't watch her tonight; tonight the whole ship was watching her. Collin clapped Amir on the shoulder and said goodnight. He walked past Lynette's office and rested against the ladder for a moment before going up.

  Stepping on the first rung, Collin heard a noise behind him. Turning, he saw Victela wiping her eyes as she walked with enviable confidence through the spin's gravity.

  "What's wrong?” Collin asked, startled to find himself alone with the woman he was supposed to be watching.

  "Nothing.” Victela waved, her other hand over her eyes. “It's stupid—"

  "Look, if it's Amir, he doesn't mean any harm, he's just—"

  "It's not Amir.” Victela shook her head. “It's not anyone. I mean, everyone has been so nice."

  "Some a little too nice maybe?” Collin ventured.

  Victela smiled, nodding. Her smile was remarkable, shifting the whole geometry of her face. “I don't think I've ever had so many offers in a single day but that's not what upset me. It's stupid, but—my team lost tonight."

  Collin's expression remained impassive, and Victela hurried to explain.

  "I know it's stupid, it's just that they promised to win. For me, because it's the last game I'll ever see them play."

  "Why?” Collin asked.

  "We leap the day after tomorrow,” Victela explained as if it were obvious.

  "But, when we leap, we remain in the same time as the system we're leaving. When we arrive in the next system, the next game won't have happened yet."

  "It's fifty light-years, won't the broadcast signal be too weak to pick up?” Victela asked, her eyes hopeful.

  "Shouldn't be a problem,” Collin assured her. “I'll talk to Lynette, see if we can work something out."

  "That would be—” Unable to find a suitable word for what it would be, Victela embraced Collin and kissed him on the cheek. Quicker than anyone else aboard ship could have done it, Victela was up the ladder and on her way to her cabin. Collin smiled, leaned against the ladder and touched his cheek where the kiss, hurried but sincere, had landed. Only then did he notice Lynette leaning out the doorway of her office, frowning at him.

  "You're not off to a great start, Collin,” Lynette warned.

  Collin straightened, hand reaching out for the ladder. “Any problem picking up the game for her?"

  "Technically no.” Lynette made it sound like a concession. “Not that she needed to know that. Are you sure it's better for her to watch the games? It's the play-offs. If they lose, it could hasten her depression. If they win, I'm not sure it'll be any better."

  "If she doesn't watch, she'll always wonder,” Collin argued. To his surprise Lynette nodded in agreement.

  "So you're doing this because you think it's what's best for Victela, not just to make her like you?"

  "I haven't forgotten rule two,” Collin assured her. Lynette nodded again but her eyes didn't seem convinced. Rather than argue, Collin climbed the ladder and returned to his cabin.

  Almost reluctantly, the ship made ready to leap. Collin drew a late duty station; it gave him a chance to check the computer and see that Victela was safely in her cabin. No matter how much a person tried to prepare, attempted to ready themselves for their first leap, it was always a shock. Newbies were told to wait the leap out in their cabin, both to protect them and to keep them out of the crew's way. On his monitor Victela floated in her cabin, bored and impatient but safe and surrounded by items familiar and significant to her. Satisfied, Collin headed to the primary forward sensor array.

  This sensor array was the last part of the ship pulled back behind the field generators before a leap and the first piece of equipment extended afterwards. Large steel crossbeams folded neatly into place, concealing the high voltage power cables behind them. The task wasn't difficult but the proximity to that much voltage always made Collin anxious. Watching the cables carefully, making certain they didn't snag in the sensor array's framework, Colin didn't notice Victela until she tapped him on the shoulder.

  "Hey Collin,” she said, oblivious to his sudden concern.

  "Victela, you're supposed to be in your cabin!” Collin said a bit too loudly, unable to hide his fear.

  "It's so boring down there, I thought—"

  "Hold this,” Collin commanded her, wrapping her hands around a support rung. “Stay right there. Whatever happens promise me you'll hold on. Okay?"

  "Collin, I—"

  "Promise me!"

  "Okay I—"

  And they leapt.

  Simple physics, the mathematics so basic they were routinely taught in grade school. Around the ship a Bose-Einstein field froze the light from a
ll the stars but one. Impaled on this single strand of light, trapped in this frozen moment, the ship was thrust at light speed to its next destination. Teachers drew lines between stars, marking the ship's route. Such demonstrations weren't wrong; from the perspective of the planet-bound that was what happened. Aboard the ship, at the mercy of relativity, things weren't quite as simple.

  Aboard ship the slowed light swung before them, coalescing into a single point directly ahead. All of reality falling away, collapsing into a radiant pearl whose light could not be denied. It shone through the metal hull of the ship, through tightly shut eyelids, glorious reality beckoning to those escaping its realm. Seeing that distant, glowing pearl, your soul cried out to return. Time had no domain beyond the leap, to scream in mid-leap was to scream for eternity, but somehow the ship always fell back. The glow of reality expanding and dimming as the ship re-entered, emerging in the glow of a new star. The clock insisted only seconds had passed, the transmissions of the star you'd left behind confirmed the fact, but having travelled beyond such truths believing in anything so empirical required effort.

  Collin blinked, a veteran of hundreds of leaps. He looked to Victela, saw her wide eyes and the white knuckles gripping the support rung.

  "That's right, Victela, you hold on as tight as you like for as long as you like. No sudden movements. There's the all clear from the bridge, time to extend these sensors and see where we are. You just hold on now while I do this.” And Collin kept up a steady patter of conversation, none of it important; he just wanted his voice to be there when she returned to herself. Wanted her to feel safe, to feel watched.

  They met down in the spin lounge to watch the final play-off games. The crowds dwindled with each passing night but Collin always went. Amir was jealous and each time Collin walked past Lynette's blue door he felt guilty but he went anyway. Her team won and, as they were named champions, Victela kissed Collin in earnest. The sensation was intense but Collin broke the embrace, apologised and retreated to the safety of his cabin. He lay in the dark, wondering if Lynette had been right, wondering if he'd made things worse.