( Read the previous episodes of Journey to Centauri.) |
Journey to Centauri : Episode 13 The doors to the Weapons Bay hissed open, and Captain Garland stepped cautiously into the antechamber. The room felt dim and hollow, tainted by the residue of violence. The lights had been turned down, in respect for the dead. Garland forced himself to stop and take it all in, and saw for the first time the blood on the wall, black crusted shadows. The video feeds to the antechamber did not function, probably disabled by Santiago, so Garland could only reconstruct the scene in his mind. Here one crewmember had been cut down, the wall behind peppered with shredder impact marks. Here a trail where one crawled across the floor, ending in a thick dry pool. Members of his crew... He crossed the chamber and entered the Weapons Bay proper, where Prokhor Saratov still waited, along with an engineer who served as a guard. The guard looked fairly muscular, even after the ravages of the cryosleep, but he shifted uneasily from foot to foot and held the bulky machine pistol awkwardly. He was an engineer, not a soldier. Racks of weapons rose above and around them in cramped darkness of the Bay. Garland thought the space reflected the philosophy of the United Nations Council perfectly. Small, smaller than any cargo space, as if it were added as an afterthought, but once you got inside it was jammed full of hardware. Killing hardware, from lightweight shredder pistols to more powerful machine pistols, atomic mortars, fusion drills, their dark hard forms reflecting their function -- threatening and aggressive. The bay seemed to embody a belated realization that perhaps violence would find humanity even in the stars. Near the back of the room Saratov hunched over a portable terminal, his face bathed in flickering light. "Officer Saratov," Garland greeted him. The Russian glanced up quickly, then snapped closed the portable and stood up. "Captain." He bowed his head slightly, then looked up again. Garland took a deep breath and sat down on a curved black container crisscrossed with red warning symbols. "We do not always see eye to eye, Prokhor. But I do respect your ability, and your intellect." Saratov straightened, a gleam of pride in his eyes. "We need you with us. You were under orders to repair the ship, not to attack..." The pride vanished in a heartbeat. "This Santiago threatened my engineers." "Yes, I know." "It is I who want the ship fixed more than anyone, Captain. That is why..." The Captain raised his hand. "No matter. We'll deal with all of this later. We will arm your engineers, transport a case of weapons to the command center, and reseal this bay properly. Saratov nodded. "Agreed." Garland released a breath. "And I have recorded these events in my log. You may wish to do the same in yours." Saratov's eyes suddenly flared with anger, then cooled to an amused contempt. "Your log? To be downlinked to Earth?" He lifted one hand, which trembled. "I have armed us, possibly saved the ship..." "And the record will reflect that. But it will also reflect how your people met Santiago on her own terms, with violence. We have a responsibility to humanity and the U. N. Council, Officer. We cannot forget that. Peace is what we are struggling for." "The Council is light years away, if it still exists at all." "I know." The Captain and Saratov faced each other, the shadows of guns crossing the walls around them. Saratov shook his head slightly. "Do what you must. My desire is only to repair the ship." The Captain held his eyes, but the Russian remained impassive, unreadable. Not ten meters away, blood dried on the walls and floor of the antechamber. Did that matter to Saratov? One of his own? "Captain, I have high confidence that we can fix the ship in time. I will request a pulse test within hours. We have almost finished reinforcing the ship's weakened sections." Garland nodded. "Good. Let's return to the command center. We must be careful until the ship is secured. The twenty security people have not arrived, so we may awaken some from another location." "And perhaps this Santiago has...infected more of the security staff with her ideas." Garland nodded. "Or any staff. It is a risk we must take." "Doctor Yang could assist, but where is he? Under Santiago's guard, or at her side? Who do you trust, Captain?" Saratov moved by Garland, on his way back to the command center. Garland turned, brushing his fingers across weapons that seemed to wait with a dormant heat.
Next episode will be posted late next week (due to webmaster's schedule). |
