Blind Exodus: Evolution's Hand, #4

By Terrance A. Crow

Dek Conrad thought Earth's politics were rough. Then he found the dead civilization at Ross 128.

Having finally escaped Earth, Conrad landed in the Sirius system. He laid the groundwork for his secret plan to save humanity — only to discover that something had extinguished all intelligence life in the Ross 128 star system. The attack had happened just a few hundred years ago. And Ross 128 was practically next door to Sirius.

Conrad can't start new colonies with a threat like that unresolved. So, against the advice of his advisers, he led the expedition to Ross 128.

It could be the worst, and last, mistake of his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terrance A. Crow
• Release date: Aug 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798985929775

Terrance A. Crow

Thanks for Reading!  Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it!  Join my newsletter and get a free short story now!  https://www.terranceacrow.com/newsletter/ Or see what other books are available:  https://www.terranceacrow.com/books/ 

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Chapter 1

From Bad to Worse

Is this even the right time? Henry Duncan asked as he double-checked his suit jacket’s fit in the mirror. He had long since ceased marveling at how light it felt despite its ability to stop even a round from an assault rifle. Instead, he checked its fit across his shoulders. Though Marketing had approved the tie’s style and color, the emerald green did not look right against the dark gray jacket and pants.

Eh, style’s not my thing anyway, he thought, pulling a TransStell standard issue ten-millimeter pistol from his locker. It and its mate fit flat against his back. Two spare magazines fit unobtrusively in his jacket’s lining. Pulling up the official checklist on his Holo-D, he went through it and his mental version: tonight’s mission was a standard Executive Job Fair, he had the proper city and state recruitment permits, and his equipment load-out conformed to the list of equipment on file with the appropriate California Republic’s governmental agencies.

Wouldn’t do to get caught with one too many magazines, he thought. He remembered what had happened to a much younger version of himself when the police had found he had an extra magazine. Even today, he could not decide which emotion felt more intense: the fear that he would be arrested, or the gratitude that his VP, Thato Dlamini, had fought for him.

A little of one, he thought, slamming his locker door shut. He stood, staring at the closed locker, feeling heavy and indecisive.

Seriously, should we do this right now? he thought. He had heard the rumors about his CEO flying south to talk to the VP they had stationed in Argentina. Duncan could believe that without effort. He felt a mild sense of pride when he remembered his CEO doing something similar months before. That mission had kept the Corporation afloat when he had felt sure they were doomed. But now, things felt different. His CEO’s actions had embarrassed their chief competitor, TCP, and that competitor seemed intent on teaching TransStell a lesson.

The other rumor seemed less probable, but now it looked more and more likely to be true: the VP of Security and the VP of Exploratory Services had flown to the Colombian space elevator to travel to their largest manufacturing and R&D station, TransStell Deep Space-1. It sat in the L2 Lagrange point. What they intended to do there, he did not know.

Politics aren’t my thing, either, he thought. But despite his mood, he found he could hold his head a little higher. If anyone could get TransStell out of this mess, it was those three. They had a stellar record, after all.

Buttoning his jacket, he shrugged once and double-checked the length of the sleeves. He was about to head into the common room when the door burst open.

Henry! Pari Sundaram, the lead Professional for his Extraction Team Alpha, said.

Geez, give a guy some privacy, he said, walking toward the door and trying to laugh. But her expression froze him in mid-step. Pari? What’s up?

Bring up the news feed. Any of the major channels.

He brought up one of the California Republic’s non-profit news channels, the one he thought he remembered contributing to. He frowned at the tail-end of an explosion whose edges looked shaky and indistinct.

What’s this? he said, toggling the holographic control so he could hear the AI narrator.

We apologize for the unsteady view, the voice said as the recording looped back to the beginning. With a start, he recognized a telescopic view of TransStell Deep Space-1. His mouth going dry, he checked the time index against the current time.

This was less than five minutes ago, he said, then gasped as he watched a flash replace the entire view. As the image enhancers did their jobs, he saw the expanding incandescence dim. He saw one or two of the outer rings tumbling away. Each trailed what looked like fog.

The voice said, "We do not have any information about survivors. Our experts suggest, strongly, that survival is highly unlikely, even for any crew who might have been in the sections that remained intact.

Just before the explosion, TransStell CEO Melchizedek Conrad had been providing his Corporation’s perspective on recent events. This is what he had to say just prior to the incident.

The view then showed his CEO, just as Duncan remembered him. Conrad spoke for a few moments before Duncan registered the words. He realized Conrad was saying, I know our esteemed competitors have tried to convince you we have acted in bad faith. But I think you saw through that poorly funded marketing campaign.

What poorly funded... does he mean TCP’s smear campaign? Trying to turn the public against us for how we disclosed the Fissures?

Duncan heard Conrad say, "You can see why we didn’t dump all of the Fissures into the public eye at once. We wanted to give the EU and other trusted partners, like the UN, time to develop the laws, regulations, and protocols around Fissure development.

Today, I’m here to tell you we remain committed to developing the Fissures for all humanity. We support the EU’s attempt to regain control of the Epsilon Eridani Fissure. We look forward to partnering with the California Republic to develop...

The scene cut back to the beginning of the explosion. Duncan turned his Holo-D off and let his arms drop to his sides. It took a moment to realize he had sunk down onto the bench between rows of lockers. A few seconds later, he saw Sundaram sitting beside him. She rubbed her wrist around her Holo-D bracelet. She looked white, her mouth hanging open, her eyes unfocused.

He looked at his dark Holo-D, then over at Sundaram.

What... he began, then realized he didn’t know what else to say.

Mr. Dlamini, she said, taking two deep breaths and pressing her lips together. We need to talk to Mr. Dlamini.

Pari, Duncan said, as he stood with her. Again, he did not know what else to say.

He’ll know what to do, Sundaram said, pausing for a moment. He heard her grind her teeth together as she pushed herself towards the door. Come on, Henry. Mr. Dlamini will know what to do.

I don’t know what it could be, Duncan thought, following his lead Professional out of the locker room. I think it’s over.

––––––––

I take it you heard the news? Thato Dlamini, VP of Human Resources, said as Duncan followed Sundaram into his office.

Yes, sir, she said. I’ve paused tonight’s operation to consult with you. What’s our response?

Our response, Dlamini said, gesturing for the two of them to sit as he took his own seat behind his polished Redheart desk. Professional Sundaram, you ask a very good question. First, may I tell the two of you something as my top Executive recruitment team?

Of course, sir, Duncan heard her say. He forced himself to focus on her body language and tone, just as he forced himself to do the same with Dlamini.

I have no doubt that you remain confident in TransStell, he said, folding his hands on the desk and leaning forward. But please indulge me as I engage in a little self-reinforcement.

He’s overcompensating, Duncan thought, placing his palms on his thighs, as much to stop their shaking as to dry them.

Under the leadership of Matsushita Sachi, our —  well, this is hard to say. Our now-deceased VP of Security. Dlamini paused for a moment, then said, Under her leadership, we formulated contingency plans to recover from most high-probability events.

Losing three Executives was one of those events? Sundaram asked, then looked chagrined.

I would have asked if she hadn’t, Duncan thought.

Indeed, it was, Dlamini said. At the time, I believed her to be overly cautious. Or perhaps overly diligent, if there is such a thing? But we did plan. We know how to move forward, even in a situation such as this. So, it’s important for you to know that we will carry on. We believe we can turn this to our advantage.

If they can kill our Executives, anyone’s a target, Duncan said before he could stop himself.

Just so, Dlamini said. And it may gain us sympathy in the European Parliament, especially since we have ongoing investments in key MEPs. The California Republic is already friendly to us. This will only improve our relations. And you know how well things are going in South America. We will get through this, Pari and Henry.

I still don’t see how, Duncan thought, studying the floor. I don’t care what kind of political capital we can make out of this. If they can kill our CEO, then no one’s safe. Jesus, can I even recruit in good conscience now? Aren’t we all dead men walking?

You should also know that we have already named our next CEO, Dlamini said.

Beside him, Sundaram said, You, sir?

Oh, heavens no. I have no wish for that position! The responsibilities of my office are more than enough for me. No, we have named someone with the skill, experience, and raw nerve to keep us competitive.

Wait... Duncan thought.

As of now, Atticus Porter is our CEO, Dlamini said, smiling as if that should reassure them.

That man had been CEO of TCP just a few years ago! Duncan thought. I can see those bastards putting a long-term plan together to make this happen! No. No, goddamnit, no. I need to trust Thato. He’s never steered us wrong.

I would have said, of all of us, Atticus has suffered the most at TCP’s hands. They nearly Terminated him, after all. They have launched repeated assaults against his plantation in Argentina. But now, with recent events, I fear we have drawn even with him.

Duncan and Sundaram sat in silence as Dlamini gazed at his hands. With a sigh that raised and lowered his shoulders, the VP of Human Resources said, We have survived because we have recruited the best available talent. I rely on the two of you in a disproportionate way to accomplish that. For that, I apologize. And at the same time, I’m going to ask you to keep up your good work. Pari, I know that you said you paused tonight’s operation. I appreciate you wanting to consult with me. But this recruitment event is one of the first for which we’ve been able to obtain a permit here in California. Since we had to transfer to this hot site HQ in Redding, anyway. So, please, at the conclusion of this meeting, I would like the two of you to head into the field.

Of course, she said. He felt the intensity of the gaze she turned on him, and he caught her meaning.

I’m in listen mode now, Pari, he thought, nodding for her to continue.

We’ll be happy to head out. But, Mr. Dlamini... They’ll ask, you know. The possible recruits will ask about how we respond to this...

Provocation? he asked when she paused, his deep voice a rumble.

That’s a good word for it, Duncan thought, forcing himself to view the situation from that perspective. That’s a goddamned good word for it.

Okay. Provocation. They’ll want to know if we are viable in the long term.

"Then you tell them, Pari, that our new CEO is still alive because he personally killed the Security team TCP had sent to Retire him. Emphasize the personally part. And then simply describe the scene you saw when you and Henry arrived back then."

Duncan remembered that day. He remembered how they had taken up positions at the entrance to TCP’s subterranean Manhattan garage to find almost an entire Security squad dead from Porter’s gunfire.

Guess we should probably not mention the part that he had run out of ammunition with a couple of the bastards still alive and kicking, Duncan thought. Still, I got to give the guy props. With an antique nine-millimeter handgun, he put down most of the squad by himself.

And you can tell them, Pari, that Atticus Porter embodies the spirit we are bringing to the game, Dlamini said. The force of his baritone, in contrast to his usual calm manner, drove the point home.

I think we can make that work, Sundaram said, looking at Duncan in a way that prompted him to speak.

Absolutely, he said, unable to put much conviction in his voice.

It seemed to be enough for Dlamini because he beamed and stood.

Pari, Henry, I appreciate you coming to me before you headed out. These are difficult times. I fear they will become yet more difficult. But your instinct to come together is one of our secret weapons. Please, do share any other concerns or questions as they come up. And good luck tonight. I don’t want to put any more pressure on you, but I mean it when I say that any new hire you find might make all the difference in the world.

Thanks for your vote of confidence, Duncan heard Sundaram say. We’ll do everything we can to bring in the right people.

In the following silence, he noticed she was looking at him. Her expression did not encourage any specific response. With a start, he realized she was worried about him. He felt like she was silently encouraging him to say anything.

The sheer volume of rants and questions overwhelmed him. So, drawing in a deep breath, he willed a sense of calm and said, We’ve got this, sir. We will not let you down.

He still sensed worry from his team lead. It both shamed and emboldened him. As he followed her out of the door, he glanced back to see VP Dlamini sink into his chair. The man’s expression seemed torn between hope and despair. To Duncan, Dlamini’s slight smile appeared wistful.

If he’s in that mood, Duncan thought, and again could not finish his own sentence. As he followed Sundaram toward the garage, he squared his shoulders and let his stern expression dominate.

They killed our CEO. He flew a field hospital into the middle of a quarantine zone and came back alive. And they murdered him. They killed our VP of Security. The best VP of Security we’ve ever had. She was a legend! If they can do that...

Duncan reinvigorated his expression and continued to follow Sundaram. He did not know what else to do.

Chapter 2

Distant Rumors

I miss the stars, Melchizedek Conrad said as he strolled uphill on the smooth, immaculate pavement. Haven City, contained within the asteroid Haven One that circled Sirius AB-I, slumbered all around him.

The filaments lining the cavern ceiling at regular intervals had brightened just a few moments ago. He could see the short, young trees more clearly now. He had just passed the path’s exit that would have taken him to the Operations and Security Command and Control Center.

I’ll bet Sachi is already there, he thought, remembering the distant expression on Matsushita Sachi’s face at the Executive Team dinner last night. They had closed out their mandatory two-week vacation. Of course, none of them had taken time off. Nor had any of the Staff or Professionals within Haven City.

But it was worth it to have two weeks of peace, he thought. Conrad didn’t want to recall any of the events that led them to Haven City, cut into the rock of Haven One, orbiting the binary Sirius A and B. His dreams and midnight recollections had given him more familiarity than he had wanted.

He felt the breeze shift to the south. He remembered the fascination he’d felt as the Operations team explained how Haven One maintained its Earth-like environment. Simulated rain, simulated wind, and simulated sunlight sounded so artificial.

Which is what it is, Conrad thought. But damn, if I don’t stare too closely at the ceiling, it feels very real.

Conrad had walked to the office today based on the forecast. Which, he reflected, was less a forecast and more a schedule. The environmental systems would trigger a brief shower just after 1300 hours, and that shower would last thirty minutes. The last time it had rained, Conrad remembered, the AIs running Haven One had dimmed the filaments to simulate storm conditions.

It’ll look even more convincing when the Holo-Ds come online, he thought. I completely understand why the construction schedule deferred those, but it’s a shame. It might have eased everyone’s transition.

Turning south, Conrad took a moment to examine one of the olive trees lining the empty street. He ran his fingers across its long, narrow leaves. Looking around, he tried to imagine how this area would look in another five or ten years.

It looks like a nursery now, he thought. It’s going to be something.

His attempt to tease out a feeling of pride didn’t work. Disappointed, he continued his walk toward TransStell’s new headquarters. Memories of Columbiana, Ohio, in the Middle States, came back to him despite his best efforts to direct his thoughts elsewhere. His family had run TransStell from that building for more than a hundred years. He wondered if the Middle States had ever cleared the rubble resulting from Colonial America’s attack.

They probably left it as a warning, Conrad thought. He didn’t have many memories from their next headquarters in Redding, California, in the California Republic. As he neared the front doors of the gray, two-story building, he wondered how the TransStell Executive Team who had remained on Earth was doing. The risk of disclosing their venture here at Sirius was too great to allow casual communications. Matsushita had assured him they would have reliable and discrete two-way channels soon. Until then, Conrad had to trust that distant team.

I have problems of my own here, he thought. Sachi would kill me if she knew I thought this, but I wonder if I’m up to the task? Should I even have brought us here?

Above him, now hidden by the entryway’s overhang, the filaments had brightened to almost full strength. Conrad saw that the light shifted towards orange, which he knew would moderate to a yellow-white as morning wore on. The door opened for him, and he strode into his new headquarters for the first time.

At least the tech’s working well, he thought.

––––––––

Conrad noticed that no-one sat behind the security desk to his left. That didn’t surprise him. They had only brought the most trusted TransStell Staff, Professionals, and Management to Haven City. Conrad wondered why the AIs had even built a security station.

Sachi probably had something to say about that, he thought. She’s probably right, though I hope we don’t have to worry about anything like that for a few years.

Conrad ignored what he knew about the brewing morale problems among the members of the Indiana’s crew. Until he couldn’t.

They didn’t sign up for this, he thought, ascending the stairs to the second floor. I hope we can do something for them.

Walking down the corridor on the second floor, Conrad glanced to his right toward the offices of his Sirius-based Executive Team.

Quite a bit smaller than Earth’s team, he thought, wondering why that thought brought a smile to his face. A couple more steps brought him to the double-doors that led to his conference area. The number of chairs made him laugh.

The entire Executive Team and most of their direct reports could sit in here, he thought. He hoped any such meetings would be laid-back affairs. He had had quite enough excitement in the last few years.

Another set of double-doors along the back wall took him into his office.

Cozy, he thought. There were seats enough for five people, including himself. His office in Columbiana could have held his entire Earth-based Executive Team, plus guests. The Redding, California HQ, offered the same accommodations.

Though I really hated that green leather, he thought, easing himself into his new chair. The main Holo-D took up the entire wall to his right.

His smile at the intimate size of the office faded as he brought the desktop Holo-D online.

Well, he said, sending a request to the refreshment station to produce a cup of coffee. Better get to work.

Chapter 3

Gardening in Space

This still doesn’t look right, Ira Malhotra said. On her back, using her Holo-D’s flashlight to illuminate the underside of the hydroponics trays, she shook her head.

Around 0500 that morning, she found she could not sleep. Haven One’s automated systems had not yet finished building her house, so she, along with the rest of the ex-crew of the Indiana and Golovnin, still called the Welcome Center’s luxury accommodations home. But she had never felt comfortable there.

I’d grown fond of my quarters on the Indiana, she thought. At the time, they had felt like too much. In these accommodations, I feel like I’m a visiting dignitary.

She felt so uncomfortable in her room that she’d dressed and jogged around the entire perimeter of Haven City. By the time she had finished, the overhead filaments still glowed a dim gold to simulate near night, and still the restlessness had not left her. So, she had changed into her uniform, taken the train to the docks, and requisitioned a shuttle to fly to her new ship, the Resolution.

And that doesn’t feel right, she thought, letting the hand holding the Holo-D drop onto her stomach as she used her thumb to turn the flashlight off. The plants aren’t right. The ship’s not right. This... damn it, this star system isn’t right.

Even as she gazed upwards at the trays, she could see her hand rise as she sighed.

It’s a little early to be sighing that big, isn’t it? Malhotra heard a voice say.

Malhotra pushed herself into the walkway and rolled to her feet. Brushing off her uniform slacks, she said, Well, good morning Doctor Professional Mogapi! I didn’t know you were aboard.

Well, our vacation technically ended this morning, so I thought that I’d earn the promotion you gave me. Thanks for that, by the way.

Don’t thank me, Malhotra said. You earned that. You helped me keep my head on straight during our mission at Epsilon Eridani.

It was my pleasure, Dikeledi Mogapi said, smiling and turning both palms to Malhotra. "And congratulations on your promotion, Director Malhotra! Director of the twentieth fleet!"

Twentieth and only fleet out here, Malhotra said with a chuckle. But it keeps the numbering straight between here and Earth, even if only the Executive Team on Earth is even aware we exist.

Yes, Mogapi said, and Malhotra noticed the other woman looked at the deck.

It’s a sore spot, Malhotra thought, clasping her hands together. I still don’t know if I’m doing the right thing backing our local Executive Team. But what else can I do? Isn’t this what I should be doing?

VP Southfield told me yesterday that she’s hopeful we can bring at least some families here from Earth, within the next few months, Malhotra said, watching Mogapi for a reaction.

I think that will help, she said looking straight into Malhotra’s eyes. Yes. It will help, and it will help quite a lot. You’re worried, aren’t you?

About?

Chuckling, Mogapi said, "About how the crews of the Indiana and Golovnin will deal with the news they can never return to Earth."

"It’s a lot better than dying of starvation or asphyxiation as the Indiana spun down," Malhotra said, the words feeling hollow even as she spoke them.

Indeed it is. But one of the reasons I am so comfortable following you is that you know that’s not an adequate justification. Of course, I am pleased I am not dead! And for myself, though I certainly miss my family back in Botswana, I understand, intellectually, at least, why we must remain here.

Malhotra moved to speak, but Mogapi held up one hand and said, You are still working through this yourself, aren’t you?

Malhotra hesitated before shrugging and saying, "I need to remember that I can hide precisely nothing from you. Yes. I’m still working through it. I’m dedicated to our mission here. I didn’t even know about it until the Resolution showed up to rescue us. But looking back, I can see how all the pieces fit into place. And I’m here, heart and soul, for the duration. I just..."

She shook her head and looked around the growing plants for inspiration. She noticed that green globes she thought might be baby tomatoes hung from several of the plants to her right. After a moment, she shrugged again.

Mogapi said, I’m sure you’ll not only figure it out, but you’ll help your crew come to peace with it, too.

I wish I could see how, Malhotra thought.

Before she could speak, Mogapi said, Um, out of curiosity, Director Malhotra, why were you under one of the vegetable trays?

Malhotra felt embarrassed, then forced that emotion aside.

This woman got me through a dark time, Malhotra thought. Seeing me roll around on the deck is nothing compared to that.

Gesturing to encompass the whole compartment, Malhotra said, This just isn’t right.

Not right?

"Well, okay. I know serving on the Indiana made me feel this way. But these trays are full of dirt. There are plants growing in the dirt. On a starship."

You’d prefer they grow from the bulkheads?

Scowling in mock scorn, Malhotra then smiled and said, "The interior spaces on Indiana spent most of their time in Zero-G. These trays would have made an incredible mess! I cringe to think of what the floating particles would do to the air circulation systems! And yet, here they are: in one of two compartments dedicated to growing plants in dirt!"

I’m sure Engineer Payne could put your mind at ease about the gravity web and its mean time between failures, Mogapi said, and Malhotra saw that her laughter was good-natured. As a doctor, I have no idea how the gravity webbing works.

Neither does Engineer Payne, Malhotra said. "I don’t even think our VP of Research and Development understands it yet. The Ghast ignores our questions about it, and the ship’s AIs keep referring us to the basic training materials.

You know, Doctor Professional Mogapi, that’s what bothers me. I don’t understand this ship. The fission and fusion plants I understand. The fusion drive, which I guess I should call ‘normal space drive’ now: that’s something that makes sense to me. But the WORP drive? The forward and aft singularities? The gravity webbing? It’s like science fiction. It’s not real.

You could call me Dikeledi when we’re alone like this, Mogapi said, tilting her head.

Malhotra paused, and frowned in concentration. Then she said, No, Doctor Professional Mogapi. I don’t think I can. We’re alone out here.

In response to Mogapi’s quizzical look, Malhotra’s frown deepened as she said, There are what, just around a thousand people living in Haven One? What’s keeping us together? What protocols do we keep in place? Which should we discard? And if we discover we’ve discarded the wrong one, how do we get it back?

Malhotra became aware several moments had passed since she spoke, and she realized Mogapi had waited for her Director to gather her thoughts.

I’m glad I kept her on the Resolution, Malhotra thought. Aloud, she said, It’s... I don’t want to do something that will disrupt discipline. Especially with the ongoing, well, morale crisis. Once discipline breaks down, it’s a monster to restore.

I see, Mogapi said. I had not considered it from that perspective. Put that way, Director Malhotra, I think you’re right. So. You’re coming to terms with the ship? Do you still plan to begin training simulations this week?

Yes, and yes. Tomorrow, in fact. I want to give everyone a chance to come on board and get settled into their cabins.

Any truth to the rumor that we’re shipping out in less than a month?

Malhotra forced herself to speak in a neutral tone as she said, "VP Southfield is still negotiating with Mr. Conrad and Ms. Matsushita. I am almost certain we won’t do anything until the Olympus returns from its unmanned mapping mission to Ross 128."

I see, Mogapi said, and Malhotra recognized the knowing tone in the Doctor Professional’s voice.

I’m glad I can trust her, Malhotra thought. She’d make a terrifying spy!

My recommendation to VP Southfield is that we recruit more crew members from the team that had come from TDS-1, Malhotra said. "We don’t have enough crew to operate the Resolution, Dauntless, and Tenacity."

Even in conditions of peacetime, Mogapi said, nodding in a knowing way.

Even in peacetime, Malhotra said. To be honest, I understand that there may be objectives that I don’t understand yet. But shipping out, even on a low-risk mission, with half the crew we need for continuous operations? That concerns me.

Would I be off-base guessing that VP Southfield supports your position? And VP Matsushita? And that our CEO is the one who is likely to push for some kind of mission?

That’s my understanding, Malhotra said, shifting from one foot to the other. She double-checked that the little green globes were tomatoes.

Mogapi said, Well, we didn’t get to Sirius by being timid.

And we won’t stay alive by being reckless, Malhotra said before she could stop herself. Well. I hope... No, I know I can trust your discretion.

Of course. And I have a sense you know the difference between giving advice and taking orders.

With an entire crew looking to me to make things right? Malhotra thought. She tried to push those thoughts aside.

Indeed, I do, she said. She hoped she sounded more convincing to Mogapi than she sounded to herself.

Chapter 4

A Step in the Right Direction

James Butler stopped in front of the hatch to the Resolution’s bridge. He double checked his uniform’s fit and ran his hands through his hair. Realizing that the short, thick mass needed no attention, he took the gesture as a sign he was more nervous than he wanted to admit.

It’s a new ship, he thought. But the systems seemed to behave a lot like the Indiana’s. And I’m sure Supervisor... I mean, Director Malhotra will give us time to train. But, damn. This ship’s amazing!

Taking a deep breath to settle himself, he reached for the activator just as the hatch opened.

Ah, Mr. Butler, Malhotra said, stopping a pace outside the hatch. I was just about to call your Holo-D. Would you join me in my conference room, please?

Sure. Yes, Director, he said, looking past her shoulder into the bridge. No one sat at either the Supervisor or Assistant Supervisor’s stations. He didn’t know if any of the other bridge crew had arrived before he had.

I hope I haven’t screwed up already, he thought, though he felt confident that Malhotra would have brought it up before now. Though we are just coming off vacation...

He followed Malhotra forward to the second hatch on his left. Malhotra palmed the controls and ducked through the opening. Butler followed her, trying to convince himself he felt excited to learn what was going on.

I like surprises, he told himself, wondering why he thought such a lie now.

He looked at the woman who stood inside the conference room waiting for them. She snapped to attention when the two of them entered. Malhotra gestured for Butler to take a seat next to the woman whose face Butler thought he knew.

Good morning, Professional Turner, Malhotra said.

Ah! Butler thought, remembering one social a week after he and the rest of the crew of the Indiana had arrived in Haven City. She served on TransStell Deep Space-1.

Good morning, Director Malhotra. Professional Butler.

Butler nodded and smiled as Turner sat down.

Professional Butler, Malhotra said. Butler wondered why she looked a little distracted.

Must have a lot going on, he thought. Glad as hell I’m not in management!

Ma’am? he said.

I’m going to ask Professional Turner to become Red Shift’s WORP pilot.

Ah! he said and wished he had taken a moment not to sound surprised.

I was a shuttle operator for TDS-1, she said, and he felt a stab of guilt that she had misinterpreted his tone. I know that the WORP systems are very, very different, but we’re all new to this technology.

Oh, absolutely, he said, this time projecting joviality. To tell the truth, I’m a little relieved. I was worried I wouldn’t know enough about the WORP systems to keep us from flying through Sirius or something.

Turning to Malhotra, concentrating to maintain his smile, he said, Shall I take the normal space pilot’s position, Director?

Ah, no, Malhotra said.

Keep focused, Butler told himself. He examined his memories again and yet again, found nothing that triggered his conscience. I wonder what I did? I thought I did well on the Indiana.

Then how can I best help you and the ship?

One thing our crew lacks is experience, Malhotra said, and Butler found himself nodding. The WORP systems are new. The space frame might be a modified Gallant-class, but the singularities and gravity webbing are complete unknowns to us. I’m confident we can eventually overcome the technical aspects, but Professional Butler, I need the most experienced crew in the most critical positions.

Okay, Butler said, his smile beginning to take a lot of effort to maintain.

Man, is she going to assign me to Haven City? Did I do something that qualifies me for dock duty? Shit, that would suck!

"As you know, Dauntless needed an experienced Supervisor. We had to assign Nadezhda Orlov to that position. So, that means I need an Assistant Supervisor for the Resolution."

How will transferring me to dock duty get her an Assistant Supervisor? Butler wondered. The question took up so much of his attention that his smile slipped. Is there someone there she wants? Maybe Director Zhao Kun from Traffic Control? I guess working in Traffic Control would still keep me in touch with starship traffic, though damnit, I want to stay in space!

Malhotra’s next sentence halted his thought processes with such suddenness that he had to concentrate to recall what she had said.

Um. Director, could you repeat that, please? he asked.

"Professional Butler, I’d like to promote you to Assistant Supervisor, Resolution. I need your experience in the position that I would have called, back in the Indian Air Force, my XO."

You want to promote me to Assistant Supervisor? he asked, feeling like a complete idiot in doing so.

Yes. Will you accept?

You want me? In Management? he asked, feeling that the embarrassment he felt asking was more or less justified because he couldn’t accept the question she’d asked.

Yes, Professional Butler. As hard as it seems for you to believe, I would like you to accept the promotion to my Assistant Supervisor. Well?

Butler blinked and looked at Sophia Turner. He saw she regarded him with a tilted head and puzzled expression.

Better get my shit together before I make an even bigger fool of myself, he thought.

Director, before I accept, may I confirm that you are aware I will need a shit... a significant amount of training before I could become proficient? My experience is in piloting a modified Americana-class heavy ship.

You’re even more experienced, Professional Butler, in maintaining discipline under adverse conditions, Malhotra said, and Butler felt like her smile washed away his last feelings of uneasiness. Your experience was in maintaining a positive attitude and influence while executing your responsibilities deep behind enemy lines.

Butler glanced at Turner and saw that she regarded both Malhotra and himself with a look he didn’t understand. Her eyes had gone a little wider than before, and she had leaned forward in her chair.

In short, Professional Butler, you impressed me with your leadership. And I want you as my Assistant Supervisor. Do you need time to think about it?

Fuck, no! he thought, feeling his pulse racing. Aloud, he said, Director, if you think that’s where I can best contribute, I would be honored to accept the position.

Excellent, she said. He admired the pendant Holo-D she pulled out of its sheath. He liked his wristband Holo-D, but when he was honest with himself, he admired how easy hers made manipulating the holographs with two hands. She interacted with the interface, and he assumed she had just logged his promotion.

I wonder if I get a raise? he thought before realizing no one had talked about salaries or banking or financial matters at all since they had arrived at Sirius.

And done. Now. Your first assignment is to acquaint Professional Turner with the WORP controls. I know you only trained on them for a few weeks, but those are a few weeks more than anyone else. Once you’re confident that she is ready to begin training at that station, please join me back here. I want your help to plan the training sessions for the week.

He stood up with Malhotra, aware that Turner had followed their example.

Absolutely, he said, not knowing what else to say. Then he added, Director Malhotra, thank you for your vote of confidence. I will do everything I can to justify your trust!

Of that I am certain, she said, then sat back down. Her outline became hazy behind the blue-white glow of Holo-D projections.

Well, can I show you to your station? he said to Turner, leading the way out of the room. That’s kind of a dumb question, isn’t it? I’m sure you’ve studied the ship’s layout as much as I have.

He felt relieved at the sound of her chuckle.

As best I can, she said as they emerged into the corridor. Um, Assistant Supervisor, may I ask you a question?

Shit, that title’s going to take some getting used to, Butler thought. He said, Shoot!

Did a third of the crew really try to surrender?

He managed not to stumble, but the intensity of the shame he felt rushed over him like a physical thing. He touched the controls for the hatch to the bridge and said, Yes. I really wish I could have done something. My co-pilot — his name was Matias Ticona — Sophia, he was just a kid. He was scared. I remember when he hired on to TransStell. Did you know Mr. Conrad visited his orientation meeting personally? Yeah, the CEO showed up at Matias’ first TransStell meeting. I bet the poor kid about crapped himself.

They entered the bridge, and Butler led her forward to the WORP station. Out of habit, he checked the master status and saw that it showed docked.

He said, You have to understand: things looked bad. I mean, really bleak. I didn’t see how we were going to get out of it. But I knew, as sure as I knew anything, that then-Supervisor Malhotra would figure something out. But Matias, damn. Just a kid. He didn’t understand like I did. Nah, that’s not it. Neither of us knew. But I just trusted her, you know?

He shook his head, aware she was staring at him with an expression he tried not to interpret. He found his hands shook, and he clasped them behind his back.

I should have figured out a way to stop him, Butler said.

I can’t believe so many of you came back alive, Turner said, sliding into the seat and swiveling to face him. We thought you had all died.

Some of us did, Butler said, and then he regretted it. Before she could say anything, spurred by a desire to act like a member of Management, he said, Professional Turner, we were lucky. But we were also well-led. Director Malhotra got us to the point where luck could kick in. And I’ll tell you what: that was no small accomplishment.

He watched her shake her head, and he wondered why she seemed at such a loss for words. Recalling Malhotra’s instructions, he said, So, where are you starting from? You said you were a shuttle pilot? Have you trained on any simulations for this workstation?

Yes, a shuttle pilot, and no, no training on this station, she said. "When I got word I’d been assigned to Resolution, I honestly thought I’d be working in the hangar bay or maybe, if I was really lucky, I’d get to be the normal space pilot. But this? I’ve only known the idea of ‘WORP’ for less than a month!"

Okay. Then I’ll teach you everything I know. Which means I’ll get to meet with Director Malhotra in about five minutes!

Laughing, she turned her chair toward her console.

Assistant Supervisor, Butler thought. What the actual fuck?

Chapter 5

Bodies in Motion

Matsushita Sachi paused, aware that she had heard a voice call out, Time out!

She jumped back two paces, her arms held ready, her breathing measured. Matsushita looked at the man and woman standing a few meters apart. She noticed that both struggled to breathe.

Time out? she asked, relaxing her stance.

Begging your pardon, Ma’am, Mykola Shevchenko, her Director of Office Security said, but you seem distracted.

Matsushita felt herself frown.

I wasn’t distracted, she thought. Was I?

Ikechukwu Lawal, her Director of Security Field Services, crossed her arms and said, Either Mykola’s right, or you just tried to take my head off.

As she understood what her subordinates were trying to say, Matsushita said, Are you sure you’re not exaggerating? Everything still looks attached.

That’s because I dodged so fast I think I pulled every muscle in my back! Lawal said, leaning side to side and grimacing. First day off vacation, and I might have to go to HR for medical treatment!

I could say that a real opponent wouldn’t pull their punches, Matsushita said, pausing at the dubious stare the pair of them leveled at her. But I won’t. Okay. Yes, I’m distracted. And apologies. I didn’t think it would come out like this.

I swear, Shevchenko said, looking to Lawal. I think she gets more dangerous the less she thinks about it.

It’s muscle memory, Lawal says. All her muscles have it.

It wasn’t that big a deal, Matsushita thought. Still, I know better than to zone out like that. Like I said to Ikechukwu: an opponent wouldn’t give