Icarus (4 page)

   “I doubt that,” Shawn muttered under his breath when the ensign was
out of earshot, deciding that cursing the officer’s ignorance was beneath him.
He turned a corridor and came upon a computer terminal, its display screen
cycling with images of planets and nebulas the
Rhea
had visited in the
last six months. Shawn watched the slide show for a moment before an image of
Minos came up, its crystal clear waters and tropical breezes beckoning him to
leap into the screen and get back to his old life as a humble trade merchant.
He laughed at the current impossibility of the daydream and pressed his
identity card on a flat panel on the terminal’s side.

   “Ready for query,” the fervent feminine voice responded.

   “Observation deck.”

   “Acknowledged. Observation deck: a large compartment on the ship that
provides a nearly unobstructed view of the surrounding space. The first
observation deck in space was installed on orbital research station Alpha-4,
placed in First Earth orbit on date—”

   “I don’t need a history lesson, okay?”

   “Acknowledged,” it responded in almost detectable sorrow. “Stopping
playback. Ready for query.”

   “Location of observation deck.”

   “The observation deck is on deck three. Ready for query.”

   “I’m on deck three.” Shawn replied.

   “Concur,” it replied cheerfully, as if Shawn had just won a prize. “You
are currently on deck three, section twenty-three alpha, frame sixteen,
compartment number twelve-beta. Ready for query.”

   “I know where I am! It’s written right here on the wall.”

   “Concur. Ready for query.”

   “What’s wrong with you?” he said in frustration.

   “I’m sorry. Only an authorized network technician can query the status
of the ship’s computer from this terminal. Do you wish to notify an authorized
network technician?” The image of a computer core superimposed over a metal
wrench appeared on the screen. “Do you wish to report a malfunction on this
terminal? Please respond with ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ or ‘exit’ to return to the main
menu.”

   “You bet I do!”

   “Acknowledged. A request has been submitted to an authorized NAMS
technician. Someone will respond shortly.” With that, the terminal screen went
black and all power lights abruptly shut down.

  
Perfect.

   Shawn balled his fist as he attempted to restrain himself from pushing
it into the screen. Whoever had coined the term ‘artificial intelligence’ had
obviously never met this particular terminal. He turned and continued down the
hall, only to come to another terminal a few minutes later. Shawn took a few
moments to compose a question that was sure to get him where he needed to go.
He held his card to the plate and waited.

   “Ready for query.”

   “Can you please tell me how to get to the observation deck from my
current location?”

   “Of course, Lieutenant Commander Kestrel. Please stand by.”

   A moment later a diagram appeared on the screen, showing Shawn’s
current location as a blinking green dot, which connected to his destination by
a flashing yellow line. The observation deck was right around the corner, no
less than twenty feet away. Shawn peered his head around the corridor and saw a
sign on the bulkhead with the words ‘Observation Deck: Lower Level” emblazoned
on it. He could only laugh at his luck.

   “You’ve been a great help.
Thanks
.”

   “Acknowledged, Lieutenant Commander Kestrel. However, appreciation is
not required. Per a previous user request, all computer terminals in this
section are now going offline. Thank you, and have a good day.” The screen
abruptly changed to an animation of a computer taking itself apart and then
being rebuilt, surrounded by a band of alternating red and black stripes with
the words ‘Terminal Down. Please Find Another.’ on the upper and lower portions
of the screen.

   Shawn turned on his heel, and a few paces later was inside the
Rhea
’s
obscenely large observation deck. True to the computer’s unnecessary
description, the room allowed for a nearly unobstructed view of the space
around the vessel. The lower deck was as much a recreational space as it was a
large lounge, with two or three dozen small tables organized around a deck that
sloped down gently on all sides. Surrounding the room were two parallel rows of
tall windows, each perhaps six to seven feet high, separated by metal ribs that
sealed the ports in place. Between the two rows, in a horseshoe shape that
ringed half the room, was a balcony about six feet wide. Shawn could see tables
and chairs up there as well, occupied by both on- and off-duty personnel.
Overall, the space was dimly lit, allowing for an even deeper visual
penetration into the streaming field of stars beyond. The brightest lights in
the room came from the tabletops, some of which were lit from below, though
most were turned off. At one such illuminated table on the lower deck, on the
opposite site of the room, he noticed the person he hoped had been the
initiator of this meeting.

   He strode confidently to her side, narrowly avoiding a waiter carrying
a platter full of colorful drinks in the process. When he was within a few feet
of the table, she turned her eyes from the stars and looked at him with a mild
start.

   “Oh, Mister Kestrel. I didn’t see you standing there.”

   Melissa looked lovely. She had changed out of the last outfit he’d
seen her in—a somewhat formfitting flight suit she’d worn on board
Sylvia’s
Delight
—into something even more flattering. She was wearing a sleeveless
green dress, made of a shimmering material that looked like diamonds interwoven
with silk. Her auburn hair, usually pulled back into a ponytail, was flowing
delicately over her lithe shoulders. The light from the table bathed her soft
features in an almost angelic glow, and Shawn had to remind himself to whom and
what he was talking.

   “Miss Graves. Or are we on a first-name basis now?”

   She smiled faintly, but it still pulled at something inside Shawn’s
heart. “Please, have a seat and we’ll discuss it.”

   Shawn silently pulled the chair back and seated himself across from
her. “We’ll discuss it? That sounds awfully formal. Tell me, are we on duty or
off, Agent Graves?” He hadn’t meant it as a crack, so why had it sounded like
one when it crossed his lips?

   “Please, don’t call me that here,” she replied in a hushed voice.

   “Why not? It
is
who you are, after all.”

   “Yes, I know. But…” she looked wistfully from Shawn to the stars. “Not
here. Not right now.”

   “Then is it Melissa?”

   She smiled at the view before returning her gaze to him. “You’re not
giving up, are you?”

   “Hey,
you
kissed
me
, remember? I think that entitles me
to a few liberties.”

   An auburn eyebrow rose and she smirked. “Did I? I don’t seem to recall
such an altercation.”

   Shawn couldn’t help but return the gesture. “So you’re going to
classify the matter, then?”

   “Do I need to?”

   “Do you
want
to?”

   Her smile faded as she cast her eyes to the glowing tabletop. “It’s
not about what I want, Shawn. It’s about what we have to do.”

   “Can I get you anything?” the voice of a waiter came from behind
Shawn’s shoulder.
Why do they always come at the worst possible time?

  
“Beer,” Shawn said. “Something dark.”

   “And for the lady?”

   “Nothing, thank you.”

   When the waiter departed, Melissa turned her gaze back to the stars.
Shawn watched as her eyes scanned the heavens as if she were looking for
answers. He followed her gaze as he recalled something he’d read once.

   “People travel to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge
waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the
ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves
without wondering.”

    “Yeats?” Melissa asked softly, referring to the Old Earth poet without
turning her attention from the view port.

   “No. Saint Augustine.”

   Her brow furrowed nearly imperceptibly. “He was a pacifist, right?”

   “More or less,” Shawn conceded. “
In essence, he believed
that the pursuit of peace must include the option of fighting to preserve it in
the long term.”

   A weak smile crept across her face. “That sounds like a
philosophy both you and my father would get behind.”

   The waiter reappeared just then, depositing Shawn’s ale
on the illuminated tabletop.

   Shawn nodded to the man and then returned his gaze to
the attractive woman. “Well, he was also the patron saint of brewers.”

   She let out an uncontrollable chuckle and turned to face
Shawn with a grin. “Now that is
definitely
a philosophy you would get
behind.”

   Shawn held his glass up in a toast before taking a
tentative sip.
“Now, what is this about needs versus wants?”

   Her smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. “The mission is our
number one priority right now.”

   “So that answers my first question: this is going to be an ‘on-duty’
conversation.”

   Her shoulders dropped and she looked to the overhead in frustration.
“Damn it, Shawn,” she cursed under her breath. “I’m an OSI agent. I’m not
supposed to go off duty…
ever
.”

   “So…is that why you called me down here?”

   She jerked her head back. “What do you mean?”

   “To tell me this. To say it was all a mistake…that it wasn’t supposed
to happen? You asked me to stay on board the
Rhea
, remember?”

   “I know I did.”

   “And I did.”

   Melissa folded her hands on the tabletop, then looked down at them
humbly. “I know you did.”

   “And now I want answers.”

   “I’m not ready to give you answers.” She could see the frustration in
Shawn’s eyes. She tentatively moved her hands on the table, close but not too
close to his. “We have…other responsibilities right now. Ones that need to be
addressed before I can…before I can think of myself.”

   “Or others, it seems.”

   “Are you kidding? That’s
all
I’m thinking about right now.”

   “You mean your father? Because he’s still missing?”

   “I mean the whole quadrant, Mister Kestrel. We’ve stumbled upon
something big here, bigger than what Sector Command is telling these people.”

   “You mean the OSI stumbled upon it?”

   She smiled, pushing her hair behind her ear and sneaking a wink in
Kestrel’s direction in the process. “I mean you and I.”

   “You’re talking about what Toyotomi told us?”

   She nodded slowly, her gaze digging into his. “And from what I’ve
learned on my own in the last few hours.”

   “Care to share it with me?”

   Melissa leaned closer, her voice now barely above a whisper. “Remember
when I told you I’d be in charge of you while you were on board this ship? That
means you work for me, Lieutenant Commander, and I intend on sharing as much of
this information with you as I can.”

   Shawn moved his hands an inch closer to hers. “And would this sharing
be in an official capacity?”

   “I’m the lead agent on this mission now. I can confide in anyone I
wish, assuming they know the price of that trust.”

   “And that price would be what, exactly?”

   She leaned back, pulling her hands further away. “Simple. I need you
to trust me.”

   “That’s it?” he asked sarcastically. “Wow, such a small request coming
from you.”

   “Don’t get smart, Shawn. I only lied to protect you.”

   “Yes, I see. And look where it’s got me: back in the service,
apparently going to fly fighters, with you still in charge of my movements.”

   She softened her eyes and her words. “At least you’ve still got your
health.” She leaned back to him, reaching out and brushing his hand, but then
withdrew sharply, hoping no one had seen.

   “And now I suppose you have full access to my personnel files?”

   She nodded gently, her auburn hair falling forward from behind her ear
to cover her left eye.

   “And you know everything about me now. Is that right?” he continued.

   She shook her head this time. “I haven’t looked at it…hadn’t planned
on looking at it.”

   “Why?”

   “As I said, it’s about trust. If there comes a time when I
need
to read it, I will. Until then, I’m putting my trust in you. I’m sure you won’t
let me down.”

   “That’s a pretty big leaf for a hardened OSI agent to turn over,
especially a command one.”

   Melissa reached into her purse and withdrew a small data cartridge.
Shawn saw her fingers fumble with it before she reached across the table,
grasped his hand, and slipped him the device in the process. She held his hand
for a moment longer than was necessary. “People change, Mister Kestrel.”

   “So I’ve heard.” He felt the softness of her fingers across the back
of his hand as her grip tightened. Then, far sooner than he would have wished,
she withdrew from him. “Aren’t you worried about being seen fraternizing with
the enemy?”

   She chuckled slightly. “Hardly. You’re far from dangerous…unless
you’re behind the control of that ship of yours. Only then are you a hazard to
yourself and your passengers.”

   “You couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Shawn laughed back. “You had
to knock my piloting again. That cuts me deep, you know.”

   “A big, strong man like yourself? I’m sure you’ve suffered worse.”

   Without warning, an image of his departed wife passed before Shawn’s
eyes.

   Melissa could tell something was amiss when his face hardened and he
pulled back slightly from the table. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”