Stepping Up (22 page)

I find Doc Traynor.  “I need some help and advice.  I think
I just lost my Mom’s Club membership card.” I want to cry on her shoulder and
whine about being a horrible mother and a bad person in general.

“Sorry, Sonia. I have a patient to deal with right now, I’ll
call you…” A steady electronic wail comes from the exam room. 

“Mom!” Avi calls from the exam room. “Cardiac failure!” 

I know when it’s time to leave, so I do.

I’m on my way to our stateroom when my perCom screams again.
It’s the Captain. “Gwen goes into isolation now. Cell 11. Security personnel
will meet you at your stateroom.”

I acknowledge the order.
Damnit!

Then Sherri calls me.  She’s to meet us at our place and
escort Gwen to Detention. In the hall, I meet Sherri as I’m opening the door. 
“What’s going on?”

“The spacer you slugged? He’s dead and no one knows why yet.
His autopsy is underway. Well, his convulsions snapped his spine, but the cause
for the convulsions is unknown.  I got the directive from Aria.  That’s all I
know.”  We go into the room.

Gwen is sitting on the chair, hugging her teddy bear,
rocking back and forth.  “Gwen, I need you to come with me, please.”  Sherri
says.

“I know,” Gwen says. “Can Sonia come too?”

“Of course.”

I can’t stop myself from asking, “Gwen, did you cause his
convulsions?” She starts crying as she throws the bear across the room. It
bounces off the wall and falls to the floor.

“I didn’t do anything wrong! You said so! Now I’m going to
be punished! It’s not fair!!
You lied to me!!!
”

The temperature in the room goes from 70F to 120F in
seconds. The emergency coolers kick on. I feel an invisible hand close on my
throat. Other unseen hands lift me into the air.  My vision is blurring.

Through the blood pounding in my ears, I hear the zip of a
pneumatically propelled dart. Gwen and I fall to the floor. Sherri stands
beside me with a tranquilizer gun.  The room cools, I’m standing on my feet. My
eyes clear.  My legs are stable under me.

“Do you want to carry her, or shall I?” Sherri asks.

Rather than answer, I pick Gwen up, her head on my
shoulder.  I nod to Sherri. She leads the way to Detention.

Now I understand why Gwen was locked in a TMOD. 
I
buzz the Captain’s door at 1900.  Friday shows me in. I’m so upset I forget my
manners until it’s too late.  I start before he can stop me—or my confidence
wanes. My words erupt like machine gun fire.  “Sir, it shouldn’t surprise you
that I’m here.  I’ve been put in charge of Gwen, so I have to act in her best
interests.  With the abilities she has, I know in my heart, she caused that
crewman’s seizure that led to his death.  Just like I know she caused the
temperature to skyrocket in my stateroom.  But, sir, I don’t think she knows
she’s doing it.  With the crewman, I think she believed—correctly—that he was
going to hurt me, so she stopped him.  In the stateroom, she was very upset;
she blamed me and lashed out in anger and despair.  Her mind is responding to
her emotions.  Sir, she needs to be taught to harness her mind.  There is more
to discipline than punishment; there is also training.  We found her locked in
a TMOD, and I suspect she had been in it for a while because the crew of that
ship couldn’t control her either.  I can teach her what she needs to know. 
We’ve started on ethics, discretion, and a few other basics, but I truly feel
she needs to be taught control first.  And, not to be blunt, sir, but if
there’s someone else on the ship better qualified than you, I don’t know who it
is.  If you’ll forgive my effrontery, if the situation were reversed, you would
want me to move Atlas and Goliath to help Gorb.  Please, sir. She may be a very
powerful psionic; but that psionic is contained inside a living, growing child
who needs your help.”

Without speaking, he looks at me for a period of five
heartbeats.  “Lords of Hell, woman, you sound like my fifth wife. You’ve said
nothing I don’t already know. She wasn’t expected to start puberty so soon. I
will deal with her. With tenderness and understanding, I promise,” he adds.  I
must look distressed.  “Go about your other duties. Also, get some Strike Armor
and FGMP training soon. I fear we may need it if my visions are realized.”

“Is that what it is? Puberty? Hormones raging, skeletal
geometry changing, and all that stuff? I didn’t see
that
coming.  Please
understand me.  Like her, I’m new to this.  I know you are busy, but I would be
very grateful if you would ‘deal with her’ sooner, rather than later.  Thank
you for your time and indulgence.  I will do as you ask.”

“Are you still here? Begone!” he roars.

Now I know who taught Aria sarcasm.
I hope it counts
that I curtsy on my way out.

There’s a message in my perCom from Avi: Hey, dearest.
Are you okay? I am in the lounge if you want to do some shots

I return the message.
Hey, sweetie, I’m on my way.  I’m
not sure I’ll be good company, but I’m on my way.
  It’s something to look
forward to anyway.  The Old Man said “Strike Armor and Fusion Gun Man Portable
training”.  I think I know an excellent teacher.  He answers on the third trill
of his perCom. “Hey,” I say. “How’s my favorite heavy-weight fudge packer?  I
need to get familiar with Strike Armor and FGMPs.  Who do I talk to?”

Freddie doesn’t miss a beat: “Hey, Squats. Talk to Jonesy.
He’s covering for me while I mend.  I think Pedersen has given that up, but I’m
not sure.  And I don’t think I ever thanked you for what you did in the
attack.  I appreciate it.  I’d teach you myself, but the wing hasn’t quite
finished healing yet.”

We trade barbs about each other’s habits.  I’m happy to know
he’s recovering.  The arm was reattached and he’s learning to use it again. 
Seems all the nerves had to grow new paths.  That
couldn’t
have been
pleasant.

When I get to the lounge, I find Avi at the bar, so I plop
onto a stool beside him.  After a quick kiss, I ask Rachel for a shot of the
house Scotian.  She pours it and before she can pull away, I put my hand on
hers.  “Can you leave that for me? I would appreciate it. And bring some
glasses fitting for a Highlander when you get back this way?”  She winks and
moves on to tend other customers.  I relay the past handful of hours to Avi and
thank him for letting me unload on him.  “Reminds me, I need to talk with Doc
and get some parenting advice.  Oh, damn. Does that weird you out too much? I
promise I wasn’t trying to that time.”

Avi pours another two fingers into each of our glasses. “Oh,
give me some credit. I like to think there’s a bit more to me than that. It
doesn’t weird me out. But if I were you, I’d get out of that whole mess while
the getting is good.  I remember from school that women have bio-clocks and
maternal instincts, so I understand your attraction.  But you’ve missed most of
what women brag about: pregnancy and the early years.  And there is also your
career to consider.”

I raise my glass in a toast.  “Thanks. Are you trying to get
me drunk so you can take advantage of me? It isn’t necessary, you know.” After
a sip, I swirl my drink in my glass. “In my head, I follow the logic.  But in
my heart, I’m already too invested in her to just walk away.  I can’t explain
it, so I don’t expect you to understand.  The Captain says she is
telepathically attaching herself to me.  ‘Imprinting’ was the word he used.”

“Sorry. How about letting me brush your hair and massage
your calves?”

Isis, he sounds like Johan now!
  “Can we crawl into bed
and just cuddle?  We’ll worry about where that leads later.  I’m a little mixed
up, just hold me for now.” I lean into him.  He wraps his arm around my
shoulders, and we drink silently for several minutes. “Let’s give what’s left
of the bottle back, and we’ll go to my place.  Unless you’d rather we go to
yours?” He shakes his head no.  So we go to mine.

In the morning, I check in with Ginny and Gorb before
going to the LEO.  They are working like bees in a hive. Engineering is running
like a precision wristwatch. Ginny winks to tell me “I got this.”

“Hi, Shownya!” Gorb says.  “Ginny is being nice to me, and
Gorb is helping all day!!”
What more can a department head ask?

“I’ll be in the LEO,” I tell them.  “Call me if you need
me.” 

I spend a few hours going over damage reports, maintenance
requests, etc, and spend a few more hours assigning chores.  Once everything is
in place for the day, I call Jones.  “I need to get trained on Strike Armor and
FGMP.  Is Pedersen the Point of Contact for that or someone else?”

“Hi, Chief. Nope, it’s me. I’m running some guys through
tomorrow at noon. Just be at SIM Room 2 by ’lebm hunderd to get into a suit and
rig up a SIM weapon.”

“Thanks, I’ll be there.”

I also call the Doc. “Do you provide emotional counseling? I
think I need some.”

“Of course I do, sweetheart. You know my door is almost
always open.”

I walk to Medbay.  The Doc ushers me into her office. I wave
at Avi and he smiles and waves back.  After she closes the door, she stabs two
buttons on her desk panel. She pulls two glasses out of a drawer and a bottle
from a freezer.  “I find a little attitude juice helps in counseling.” She
pours each of us a measure and hands one of the glasses to me.  “Now, the
doctor is in; the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign is lit; the vodka is poured.  What’s on
your mind?”

“Well, it’s like this: I now feel guilty for all the hell I
put my parents through.”

“Most new parents do.  Nothing unusual there. Please
continue.”

“Ever since Gwen opened her eyes and called me by name, it’s
like she pulled a piece of my heart out, and I’m not complete without her.”

 “Is it true you never stop worrying about them?” I ask
Doc. “Your children, I mean?  I don’t think I’m cut out for this ‘motherhood’
thing.”

“It’s absolutely true.  Take Avi.  He’s an adult who makes
his own decisions, and yet when he comes to me with problems—and he does—I
still want to rock him and say ‘Mama will fix it.’  So no, you never outgrow that.”

“Has he come to you about me? I mean about ‘us?’”

“Of course he has.  We had a conversation very similar to
the one you and I are having now.”

“You won’t tell me what was said though, will you?”

“I’d be happy to.” She sips her vodka.  “Right after you
tell me all of the parent-child conversations you’ve had with Gwen.”

“Touché.” 
There’s no way I’d do that.
“It was an
inappropriate question.”  I set the glass down. “So, how horrible a mother am
I?”

She smiles broadly at me. “It’s always been my opinion that
if you are worried about your parenting, you’re probably doing it right.  And
from what I’ve seen, you’re a very good mother.  You might want to consider
doing it the hard way someday.”

“I’m doing the best I can.  The best I know how.”

“That’s what I said.  And it’s all that can be expected of
you.  On a sadder note, I performed Mikkelson’s autopsy.  His brain literally
short-circuited.  I don’t know exactly how, and I can’t prove it, but I believe
as sure as I’m in this chair that Gwen caused it.  Of course I have to report
any dangers of that nature up the chain, hence Gwen’s detention. If it helps
any, I bear a part of the guilt as well.  I am hoping for a peaceful resolution
that keeps everyone involved happy.”  She freshens up our drinks and continues,
“On another note, you don’t have to kill yourself keeping the Captain happy. 
He has his own agenda, and, believe it or not, with people who want to learn,
he is very patient.  Of course, people who don’t want to learn aren’t around
very long.” 
He’s certainly put up with more from me than I would have
expected.

We talk for quite a while.  I learn a fair amount about her
and Avi; she learns as much about me.  I decide to leave while my legs work
well enough to get me to my stateroom. I call Sherri, “Hey girl-friendly.  I’m
sure you’re curious about what happened in the chow hall last night.  Drop by,
and I’ll fill in the blanks for you.  How’s Gwen doing? Can I see her?”

“I wish I could, Chief, but I have a drill to run tomorrow.
I gotta get up at 04.  If it was up to me, you’d be with Gwen right now.  But
that’s Aria’s department. I’ll see what I can do, though.”

I have my answer soon, directly from Aria:  “You may not see
Gwen. She has been placed in a shielded cell for observation. She is healthy, comfortable,
and playing with her paint program. I will inform you when you may visit her.
Busy yourself with work, Sonia. Let the command group worry about Gwen for a
while.”

“I’ll do what I can.  Is the disk we brought aboard off
limits? I’d like to have it moved to a workshop where I can start trying to
learn more about it.”

“That will not be possible either.  The disk has been moved
to a containment area in the cargo bay, that is normally for reactive materials
such as Uronium or Bacthium. It is strictly guarded, per the Captain’s orders.
The Captain and I alone have authority to open the field to view or touch it.”

For the next two weeks, I am in Simulator Room two for
two hours per day, learning how to use Strike Armor.  I can’t say if it’s overt
subversion or just me being passive-aggressive (or thick headed and stubborn),
but I wear my prototype.  It gets a few stares and comments.  I also find out
first hand where to make improvements.  Fortunately, once I get the hang of it,
I develop a certain level of mastery.  It’s not a vehicle, so it isn’t driven. 
It’s more like a suit of clothes; it’s just worn.  We take turns laughing at
each other as we practice for our graduation exercise:  moving one dozen raw
eggs from one bowl to another.  I get to where I only break two.  The standard
is four, so I graduate.

When
Night Searcher
arrives at BaineRa’ah IV, the
maneuver drives hum to life. We’re one hour from orbit. I’m in the LEO when the
bridge calls me: “Chief MacTaggert, Zack Bordeaux, lead navigator. Can you
prepare the power plant to charge a set of batteries for an advanced base? A
group is going on a long camp-out to find contacts here. The sensors won’t read
anything on the planet.  The atmosphere is blocking us.” The batteries for the
advanced bases draw a prodigious amount of energy from the power plant. It’s
not a problem as long as it isn’t a surprise.

“We’ll get on it, Zack.  How much time do I have?” We’re
interrupted by a textCom. Aria has called a staff meeting in the conference
room at 2100. I’m to be prepared to brief the charge status of a set of
advanced base batteries. Checking my desk clock, I see it is currently 1930.
I
wish they wouldn’t wait until “critical” to call me.
But coal never became
a diamond without heat and pressure. I confirm with Zack, then call Ginny and
tell her to reconfigure power plant production to allow for the battery
charging.

In my copious free time, I keep myself busy and occupied
by re-creating PeteArmor, or at least making Strike Armor a little more
“Trooper friendly.” I’ve been able to modify one of the Strike Armor suits with
some PeteArmor functions. The prototype is hanging in the locker. I trust it.
And this one finally has the cooling and plumbing issues completed.

The only ones at the meeting are Aria, the Captain, Damien,
(the lead bridge officer), and I. We go around the table, briefing our
departments, until we get to the Captain. “Chief MacTaggert, you will put a
team together. You may take whomever you want, except Aria. Head down to the
planet, and make contact with someone. If you determine it to be necessary, you
are authorized to bring them to
Night
Searcher on your return. We need
to know where in the Nine Hells we are. Take a full complement of weapons, food,
etc. The 100 ton cutter is available, so don’t skimp or feel the need to travel
light. What are your questions?”

I think for a minute and tick them off on my fingers, “I
know I want Landers to do the flying.  I want Watson and Jones as shooters,
unless Sgt. Call is available.  Dr. Took for medical support.  I’m going to
need someone for combat engineering in case I have to blow something up. 
Someone who excels at Recon, if Sherri or Jones isn’t the best.  A Long Range
Communications operator will be helpful.  If we have an archaeologist or
anthropologist aboard, that would be great.  Off the top of my head, I’ll want
to set up someplace away from any people.  Then gently, but deliberately, make
contact with them.  We’ll all take formal—as well as casual—wear, in case we
need it.  What sort of time frame do I have to operate in? I’m told we don’t
know anything about this place.  Are the sensors not penetrating the
atmosphere, or is something blocking or jamming them?  And, if I can really
have anybody I want, then I want Gwen.”  I do my best to keep a steady gaze. 
Every pair of eyes in the room is riveted on me.