She Could Do Better

Month 12 Day 12

2002 Hours

Smythe

 

 “Mac, am I late?”

Smitty looked up from his technical manual to see Ferguson approaching Colleen across the rec room. “Not really,” she answered. “Sit down. I hope Darznok is okay with you.”

“Um, I said a game,” he answered uncertainly.

“Darznok is a game,” she pointed out, equally uncertain.

Ferguson doesn’t look happy. “Mac, I meant something physical, like hoops.”

“Oh.” Now she doesn’t look happy. “I’m sorry, Ferg, I’m more in the mood for an electronic game tonight.”

The assistant chef eyed the game console. “I’ve never played Darznok.”

“And I’ve only ever watched it being played,” she returned. “Just hang on a second.”

Well, that date won’t last long, if neither of them have played the game before, Smitty surmised, and turned back to his manual. He raised his head again, realized she hadn’t yet sat down at the game console. Colleen was bent over the side of the table, and had opened a small access panel to the interior of the game, where her nimble fingers were hard at work. She finished what she was doing and looked around the rec room. “Hey, Freyer!”

“Yeah?” The young technician left the group watching Atakke and came over. “What’s up?”

“Look that over, would you?” Colleen asked. “Make sure I didn’t screw it up.”

Freyer rolled her eyes. “Mac, I’ve seen your work. You wouldn’t screw it up.”

“There’s an owner of a business specializing in recreational games who wouldn’t agree with you,” Colleen reminded the other woman. “Please check it out. I don’t want anybody claiming I broke it.”

She didn’t technically mess up the game. She cleared out a lot of gobbledygook and made it run more efficiently. Which wasn’t what the business owner wanted.

Freyer shrugged and considered the inner workings of the game table. “What were you trying to do?”

“Slow the game down to quarter speed.”

“Well, that’s what it’s set for,” Freyer agreed. “But why in space do you want it so slow?”

“Neither of us knows how to play Darznok.”

Freyer grinned. “You’re supposed to play with instincts, not thinking. Well, put it back the way it was when you get done with it.”

“Thanks, Stephee,” Colleen told the other girl as she moved off. The redhead sat down facing her date. “You were hoping for hoops, because you’ve seen me play with Bugalu and Yellow Dog, right? Yeah, I know how. But I can’t play with just anybody. For instance, I don’t dare play hoops with Tall Bear.”

“Are you still that touchy?”

“I probably always will be. So it surprised me when you asked for a date.”

“But you accepted.”

“To play a game. Since the game wasn’t specified, I thought it would be... safer to play something electronic. I don’t have any reason to dislike you. But don’t expect too much from me in the way of dates, Ferg, ‘cause I don’t have much to offer.”

Ferguson thought about that for a minute, then smiled. “Okay, what are the rules of this Darznok?”

Smitty turned back to his technical manual on the reading screen, and lifted his cup for a drink. It was empty. Oh, what’s the use? He gathered his things together and left, frowning as his eyes slid across the open access panel on the Darznok table.

He headed for a lower deck, not sure where he’d wind up with his tech manual in search of a fresh cup of coffee. He tried not to frown at Bugalu and Dahlquist when he passed them in the hall. That’s the 4th woman he’s been with in the past 5 days, and that doesn’t count Colleen. Pretty shabby treatment of a woman he was totally absorbed in only a month ago, it seems to me. She should date more than one. Bugalu’s fine enough, I’ve nothing against him, but she shouldn’t tie herself down to just one boy friend at her age. There’s still time for her to... find the right guy.

He entered the deck 11 rec room and chose a seat, sliding his technical manual into the viewer. Then he got a coffee from the dispenser and sat down to do some serious reading.

“I didn’t think that was possible on a starship,” a voice came up from the arboretum on the deck below. They must be inside the maze. Somehow, the hedge walls don’t dampen voices, but bounce them straight up. To here.

“Oh, it’s possible,” a female responded. “Just rare. But she’s got that Gaelunder metabolism, which doesn’t react the same way to inoculations.”

Gaelunder. Colleen. Is she ill?

“Are you sure? I mean, it’s supposed to be impossible.”

“Well, she hasn’t come to sick bay and had it confirmed. But I wouldn’t expect her to. That would get her a one-way ticket out of the Fleet, her being single. But I’ve been watching her, and I’ve seen all the signs.”

“Well, whose do you suppose it is?”

“There’s only one man whose it could be.”

“Bugalu? He’s dating everybody aboard again.”

“Funny how he can’t make up his mind, isn’t it? First they were inseparable, until she managed to pass probation. Then it was hit or miss for a while, and now she’s his constant once-a-week date. I think she hasn’t even told him yet.”

“You’re probably right. If a girl told me that, I’d be running like crazy.”

“You aren’t him. She’d know exactly how to say it. She’d play on his sense of responsibility. Even if he’s not the father, I’m sure she’d convince him he was.”

Father!

“You just said he was the father.”

“Well, how would I know?” the unseen woman returned, sounding peeved. “It seems logical that he’s the father, they’ve spent so much time together.”

“Well, who cares?” the man decided. “That’s their problem to figure out. Listen, all these plants are well and good, but I’d just as soon we go someplace with more guaranteed privacy.”

“Hmm, well, why didn’t you say so?” the woman purred. “We could have gone there straight away.”

Smitty didn’t know how long he sat in the now-silent rec room, trying to digest what he’d just heard. At long last, he had one coherent thought: Well, that’s that, then. They’ll get married before long, so any... dreams I might have had are completely out of the question now. As if they weren’t before. Unable to cope with that thought, he got up and made his way to his quarters, where he lay in his bed, unable to sleep. Or even to think clearly.

Freak Allergy

Month 9 Day 6

(Shore Leave Day 7)

1458 Hours

McGregor

Drake draped the damp towel around his neck as the lift door opened and he stepped into the first aid station’s lobby. Not sure where to go, he paused at the desk. “You paged me? I’m Dr McGregor, of the Fireball.”

“Thank you for coming so promptly,” the nurse answered. “I’ll take the towel, and here’s a lab coat for you.”

Drake half pulled the towel off, but paused to consider the lab coat she held out. “Lab coat?” he muttered.

“Patients respond better when the doctor is in a lab coat rather than a swimsuit.”

That makes sense. “My patients are used to seeing me in a uniform, but I take your point.” He made the swap to tug the lab coat on. “Now, who is the patient, why are they here, and where are they?”

The nurse hesitated for a nanosecond. “We aren’t sure who she is; everybody seems to have their own name for her, but they claim she belongs to your ship, and her commanding officer asked for you to be notified. Respiratory distress.” She passed him a medical pad that presumably had the details. “Down the middle hallway, 3rd door on the left.”

“Thanks.” Drake consulted the pad as he started down the hallway. Female, late 20s. Okay, we’re down to about 1/3 of the crew.

“Drake!”

He looked up in surprise, saw that Beth had just emerged from the room he intended to visit. “Beth! Are you the reason I’m here? What’s wrong?”

She gave him an embarrassed smile. “I’m not the patient, no. I was coming out to see if they could cancel that page. You got here quickly, but the medicine they gave her seems very effective.” She glanced back at the room. “Even if she is acting weird.”

“Who?”

“Oh! I guess- Mac. She drank half of Bugalu’s milkshake, which was made with a native berry. Shortly afterward, I noticed she seemed disorientated, and by the time Tall Bear got her out of the water, she was mostly unconscious, struggling to breath.”

Drake hurried for the room. He stopped short in the doorway. Mac was sitting on the bed, both her arms wrapped around Smitty’s upper arm, her head against his shoulder. She was whispering. Smitty’s back was to Drake, who couldn’t understand this strange tableau.

“I can’t understand what she’s saying,” Beth whispered. “I don’t think Smythe does, either. It doesn’t sound like what little Gaelunder I’ve heard her use.”

“Any Gaelunder she’s used on the ship was probably cursing,” Drake muttered.

“Right, but it’s got a certain... sound to it that this doesn’t have. But I’m not a linguist.”

A door on the opposite side of the room opened and a young man in a lab coat entered, his eyes on the medpad he held. Smitty pulled his arm away from the redhead and took a step away. Mac watched him with a deep pain on her face.

“Okay, the customary medication for Oyrt berry allergy handled most of the symptoms. Our biochemical tests, however, indicate you might experience some of the more unusual reactions, so the lab is working up a cocktail to handle those. It shouldn’t take long to get that ready.”

“What unusual reactions?” Drake asked. The young doctor finally looked up, and Smitty turned, his face red. “I’m Dr Drake McGregor of the Fireball. The patient is Colleen MacDowell, communications, and Smythe is Chief Engineer.”

The youngster smiled, seemingly more at ease with someone in his own field. “I’m Dr Quince.” He offered his hand, which Drake briefly took. “First, less than 1% of the population is allergic to oyrt berries. A higher number for visitors, so facilities that serve oyrt berries keep a broad spectrum anti-allergen on hand, just in case. This patient had a pretty severe reaction, but the worst of it was receding by the time she got here, since the life guard had given her that anti-allergen. Still,  I’m afraid our bio-chemical scan indicates the possibility of a mental side effect. It appears her brain chemistry is possibly changed, producing some confusion or unexpected emotions. The lab should be here shortly with a fix. Assuming, of course, that she’s acting... odd.”

“Absolutely,” Smitty stated, and both doctors turned to him. He added, “I can’t get her to speak English! It’s like she doesn’t understand me.”

“Well, if English isn’t her first language...” Dr Quince began.

“It’s not, but she learned it in elementary school,” Drake returned. “So it’s not a recent acquisition. She’s quite a linguist, so losing a language  could effect her career. Is that the type of confusion you meant, that she might forget what language to use?”

“Um, no. Understand, there’s only been a few individuals whose minds were - temporarily - affected by this allergy. There’s no mention of it affecting their language, only that it seemed to send them back to an earlier period of their life, a time of mental turmoil.”

Has there been a time in her life that didn’t includ mental turmoil? Could she think she’s back on Gaelunde? I wouldn’t think she would have dared hold any man. “How long does that last?”

“If we don’t straighten out her brain chemistry? That’s hard to say. Days. Weeks.”

“Black space,” Smitty bit out. “We’ve only got 9 days left of shore leave!”

“Then we’d better get the cocktail right,” Dr Quince stated, and glanced at the doorway. “Is that one of yours, too?”

MacGregor glanced behind him. “Another crew member, yes. And one of Mac’s best friends.” He turned to address Yellow Dog. “Any idea where Bugalu is?”

“Yes,” YD answered, and slipped forward to consider Mac, who had laid down when the doctors started talking.

“Doctor, I realize a ship’s crew can be tightly knit, but I don’t believe it would be in the patient’s best interest to have all her friends visit right now. Depending on how far in her past she thinks she is, it could deepen her confusion. Which could lead to complications. I mean, further complications.”

Yellow Dog spoke briefly, but not in English. When the redhead started to answer, the AmerInd winced and put her hand over Mac’s mouth. Green eyes glared up from the bed, but YD mildly told her, “Not Kolla. Mac.”

“Kolla?” Drake asked. “She thinks she’s Kolla? Again?” At least she’s not reliving her life from years ago.

Dr Quince asked, “Is that a... separate personality that’s manifested before?”

“No,” Drake answered. “Well, yes, but not like you’re thinking. Never mind, it’s a long story. But if it makes any difference, that means her mind has, ah, returned to about 6 or 8 weeks ago.”

The youngster’s eyebrows rose. “That recent? From the state of her biochemistry, I would have guessed much older memories. But we’ve never had a Gaelunder visitor before, and her brain chemistry has deviated from Human normal.”

Deviated? Drake turned to Beth. “I don’t remember any deviations from Human normal when she came aboard.”

“No. You commented on how normal she was. Except for her density, of course. But you didn’t specifically analyze her brain chemistry; you expected the computer to point out any differences that might need to be known.”

“And it didn’t point any out, so she must have been within human parameters.”

“But Kolla’s body chemistry is considerably different, isn’t it?” Smitty asked. “So, if she’s back to being Kolla, perhaps it’s because her brain chemistry has been changed to be more like Kolla’s?”

“I don’t understand,” Dr Quince stated. “If Kolla is a different person, how can this woman have returned to thinking she’s that person?”

How do I make it believable? Even Fleet HQ had trouble with it, and if we hadn’t all been saying the same thing... “Well, if we have time, I’ll try to explain. But for now, don’t be in too big a hurry with that chemical cocktail. It might make things worse instead of better. Beth, find a computer and pull up that original exam from the Fireball files. Let’s compare them to what they found here at the first aid station.”

“I can’t,” Beth told him flatly.

“Why not?”

“Because the ship is shut down,” Smitty answered for her. “So it’s a good thing I’m here. Only the captain can open the doors wide, but I can get you into the medical files. Dr Quince, where is a computer terminal we can use?”

“Over here.” He led them to the far corner.

Drake considered the redhead, who was again sitting up, watching the trio gather around the computer terminal. “I’m beginning to think Bugalu is right.” She turned her attention to him at the mention of the helmsman. “You don’t look for it; trouble comes looking for you.”

She considered him blandly for a moment, but her sudden smile seemed to agree with him.

Sisters

Sisters

Month 6 Day 31

1702 Hours

Bugalu

Mac hadn’t been home. She wasn’t in the library, either. Bugalu stood in the doorway and looked all around, but saw nobody at any of the tables. She said they’d be here if she wasn’t sleeping. So where is she? Think, Bugalu. Where would they go, if she forgot I’d look for her here?

Eventually, he became aware of whispers. Is that Gaelunder? It wasn’t easy to follow the faint sounds to a source; the shelves of computer chips bounced the words into a meandering trail. But he came to a table beyond the shelves, where the two redheads sat together. He waited until Kolla stopped speaking, and both women giggled. “Here you are!” he greeted.

Kolla cringed and reached for her personal translator. Mac adjusted the speaker in her own ear. “I told you we’d be here,” she chided softly, her face pink.

Remembering they had been whispering, Bugalu lowered his voice. “You didn’t say you’d be behind all the computer chips.”

“It’s easier to not be interrupted back here,” Mac answered.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, but you wanted me to find you.”

Mac smiled. “You aren’t interrupting. We had... veered onto a tangent.”

Kolla giggled, and foreign words emerged from her translator. Mac tweaked the woman’s controls. “Kolla, you adjusted the sound level, but you didn’t change it out of Yukosk.”

“-d when I can’t see the controls,” was the end of Kolla’s next statement.

“It takes practice, like everything.” Mac answered. “You’ll figure it out.”

“What did she say?” Bugalu asked. “In her own language.”

Kolla gave him a coy, secretive glance. “I said, ‘it might be unimportant and a tangent to us, but it is vitally important and the main subject to men.”

Well, that makes it as clear as a nebula. Before Bugalu could say anything else, Kolla turned in the direction of the library entrance. She fumbled with her translator, cupped her hand over it and said something to the shelves of chips. Mac told the computers to save their work, then turned off the screens.

S’thyme found his way to them, pulled his wife close for a kiss. Mac leaned against the table to wait. She looked uncomfortable, so Bugalu smiled and mouthed, “Newlyweds.” at her. Mac’s face turned pink, and her gaze drifted.

The couple broke apart, and S’thyme studied Bugalu. “Coline, is this your boy friend?”

Surprised, Bugalu automatically said, “No.”

“She’s adopted,” Kolla stated softly. “He’s her brother.”

“You have so much in common,” S’thyme told his wife.

Kolla gave a brief grimace. “I never got adopted.”

“I almost envy you,” Mac inserted. “I had 8 brothers, all older than me, who saw me as a pest. The youngest, Matt, went to the academy, where he met Bugalu, this guy. Then I went to the Academy. By himself, Matt couldn’t keep me from finding trouble. With 8 brothers protecting me back home, I didn’t know how to avoid it. Luckily, Bugalu became an unofficial brother. He taught both of us ‘wild Gaelunders’ how to behave in a civilized society.”

S’thyme studied both of them for a moment. “What is a gaylanda?”

“A person from the planet Gaelunde,” Mac answered. “Didn’t we go through this, Kolla?”

“Before we separated, it was how you thought of yourself. I thought it was your… tribe.”

“I thought you were human,” S’thyme stated.

“I am,” Mac replied. “About a hundred years ago, a group of humans from Earth started a colony on Gaelunde.”

“She makes it sound so easy,” S’thyme told his wife.

“It wasn’t,” Mac retorted. “Gaelunde is larger than Earth, and the first couple generations were short-lived, even with Earth’s help. If I hadn’t been born there, I don’t know if I’d have been brave enough to be a colonist.”

“S’thyme dreams of a colony on the next planet,” Kolla explained.

“I’m sure the Fleet could give you some information on the various problems our colonies have faced,” Bugalu stated.

S’thyme nodded. “I’ll look into that, thank you. Right now, I want some time with my wife before tonight’s party.” S’thyme took his wife’s hand and started to turn away.

“Lunch tomorrow?” Kolla asked Mac.

“Of course.”

After the Yukosk couple left, Bugalu asked, “You enjoy being with her, don’t you?”

“We are sooo-oo much alike. The 2 of us remind me of any 2 of my brothers.”

“Sounds like you’ve found a sister to adopt.”

Mac froze for a moment. “I’m not sure how to behave with a sister.”

“You worry too much,” he told her. “If you like her, you have things in common and you can talk about anything, then try it. When I heard you 2 whispering and giggling, it reminded me of my sisters.”

“It did?”

“Yeah. They always stopped when I came around, because they were talking about boys.”

She gave him a sharp look. “They didn’t want you to know they were talking about boys?”

“They didn’t want me to know which boys they were talking about. I didn’t want them knowing which girl I currently liked, either, so it was fair. You and Kolla are working on a project? And shall we get supper?”

Mac headed for the exit. “We’re trying to modify the scanners in the sick bay doorways. Kolla knows more biochemistry than I do, but it’s Yukosk biochemistry. I could learn – I picked up a smattering when we needed to get separated. But it’s not a subject I find interesting, so it would take time. More time than we’ve got. I could ask Beth to join us. But Beth is day shift, so we’d have to do this on C shift, and Kolla has a celebration party every night. Maybe Mags. She’s C shift.”

Mags? I don’t know any nurses called Mags. What did Mac shorten? Maguire? Do I know any Maguires? “Who is Mags?”

Mac lifted one corner of her mouth. “Dr Davis.”

“You call Dr Davis ‘Mags’?”

“Not to her face. Yet. Do you think she’d object?”

Bugalu considered that as they got into line in the messhall. “I don’t know her well enough to guess how she’d react.”

“Who?” Dr MacGregor asked as he got in line behind them. “Bugalu, there’s a woman aboard you don’t know well enough to know how she would react? To what?”

“Dr Davis on C shift,” Mac responded. “Bugs doesn’t know how she would react if I call her ‘Mags’. Which, if she joins Kolla and me on our project, I will do, sooner or later.”

“Why do you need a doctor for an engineering project?”

“We’re trying to modify some Yukosk technology. Well, blend it with some of ours. Theirs has a biochemistry basis, so we need someone with a strong knowledge of human biochemistry. And Mags – Dr Davis – hopefully would be available during the latter half of B shift.”

MacGregor smiled. “Perfect. She’s very interested in xeno-biochemistry. As for calling her ‘Mags’, don’t do it while you’re a patient. But as co-workers on a project… I don’t think she’d object. Too much. If she did, would it do her any good?”

Mac frowned. “If she got mad, I’d attempt to use her real name.”

“You never did that for me!” Bugalu pointed out.

“Or me,” MacGregor chimed in.

Mac chuckled. “For you guys, I’m supposed to be a pest!”

She called me Bugs long before she accepted me as a brother. Probably the same for MacGregor. But it won’t do us any good to point that out.

Previously:

The Star Ship Fireball, captained by Jane Burke, welcomed 3 new crew members, all female, each with her own beauty and her own idiosyncrasies. The blond nurse was a flirt. The American Indian spoke less than Jane thought possible for a crew member. And the redhead communications lieutenant... couldn’t take her eyes off the ship’s chief engineer, Mr Smythe. Jane wondered which newcomer would be the biggest headache.

Lt Bugaloo, day shift helmsman, was surprised to see the redhead. An old girl friend, no doubt. Mr Smythe tried to hint - without actually saying it - that flirting with an on-duty crew member was not acceptable. His no-nonsense announcement that she would be working with him for the next 3 days, checking the wiring on the auxiliary bridge, brought a brilliant smile to her face and some phrases that... Surely the girl wasn’t flirting with him, now!

Dr Drake MacGregor, ship’s chief medical officer, always examined newcomers himself, with the assistance of his head nurse. The redhead - Colleen MacDowell - insisted he call her Mac, and tried to shorten his name to the same. She seemed friendly, and sometimes he thought she might be flirting. But it became obvious she wasn’t aware what she had said. All in all, he liked her, and within a few days, he ended up ‘adopting’ her... as a niece. Apparently, Bugaloo had been her real brother’s roommate at the Academy, and had adopted her to help keep her out of trouble.

Lt Abdulla, senior communications officer, Bugaloo, Capt Burke, Dr MacGregor and his head nurse, Beth Temple, each looked at Mac’s record, which looked fine... for a trouble-maker, which was not the type that usually got assigned to the Fireball. A deep study revealed inconsistent and contradictory entries. Mac had spent 4 years on 3 tugs, and for the most part, had been confined to her ship to do inconsequential duties, while everybody else had shore leave. Whoever had been trying to pressure her into sex - not necessarily the tugs’ captains, but Bugaloo suspected it was - didn’t care how badly they portrayed her as incompetent and rowdy. Well, rowdy, Bugaloo agreed. Back home, she’d had a father and 8 older brothers to protect her virtue. At the Academy, her heavy-world strength and 18 years of rough-housing with her brothers made her capable of protecting her own virtue.

Mr Smythe’s reason for working with a new communications officer was to assess her competency, but he found it strangely difficult to nonchalantly ask questions, and when he finally did - just before lunch - she blankly stated she didn’t know. He sent her off to find the answer, and she brought it to him as he ate lunch with the captain. Surprised, Smythe asked her to recite the question and hid his shock when he heard it. He dismissed her, then confessed to the captain that he hadn’t remembered what he had asked, but his first question certainly shouldn’t have been that one!

Smythe was surprised when Dr McGregor expressed concern over the redhead’s mental health, due to missing shore leaves since the Academy. Tugs have regular shore leaves. But the captain agreed, and had Doc spell out what symptoms Smythe should watch for, since he’s the one working with her. The more Smythe pondered these symptoms, the more they appeared, making him feel guilty for having asked such a difficult question.

As usual with new subordinates who haven’t yet proved themselves, Mac had an oral quiz after her first 30 days. She thought it would be administered by Sr Lt Abdulla, who's been friendly. And Mac had been refreshing her knowledge, so she didn’t anticipate difficulties. However, after the first question or two, Mr Smythe arrived to administer the test himself, and suddenly, Mac couldn't answer. He suggested she ‘study up’, which sent Mac into depression, and made Abdulla do a slow boil. Mac had been studying; Abdulla’s been helping her, and the girl had not missed one of her questions. Hadn’t missed a single question since she had panicked over his opening salvo, her first full day aboard!

Was this Mac’s problem with commanding officers? After scrutinizing Mac’s record, Abdulla hadn’t figured out who had taken a dislike to the girl, but somebody had been treating her unfairly. She didn’t know why Mr Smythe had taken a dislike to the new girl, because even if he wasn’t sure about a new subordinate, he usually gave them every chance he could.

So began a repeating cycle that lasted nearly the entire 6 month probation period. At the end of each month, Mac was unable to pass Smythe’s quiz, and vowed to study harder. Smythe saw her studying, so he couldn’t fault her for not trying. And as time passed, he started finding her sleeping, too; on the elevator, in the rec room, even sitting at her desk in her quarters. Her beauty became strained, and apparently, the stress wasn’t allowing her to sleep well. It seemed she wouldn’t be on board more than 6 months. Maybe then, he could get a good night’s sleep.

A virulent flu rampaged through the crew, and Dr MacGregor quarantined the ship. As more of the crew became sick, double- and even triple-shifts became ‘normal’ for those who had not yet succumbed. The less-than-skeleton crew had nothing to do but wonder when they would develop the yellow spots that would take them off-duty. To occupy their minds, Capt Burke instructed her crew to move into orbit around a near-by planet. A quarantined ship could not interact with others, but there was no rule against observing and making notes. In the middle of this, however, the communications console exploded, knocking out Lt Abdulla, who had returned to duty only minutes before.

So after working 3 shifts and part of a fourth, Lt MacDowell drug herself back to the bridge to start repairs. Her only help were 2 engineering technicians, but she gave them coherent instructions and then crawled into a front access panel. The next thing Burke knew, a loud blare came from communications, which Takor slapped off while MacDowell just stood, looking confused and even grayer than before. Something crackled between the Scissan and the Gaelunder, and both crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Upon regaining consciousness, Abdulla returned to tackle the repair job herself, but it seemed everything in the console held an electrical charge that she couldn’t get rid of. When Mac regained consciousness, she started hiding, wouldn’t talk to anybody, didn’t even seem to hear them when they talked to her. Eventually, someone made the outlandish proposal that perhaps she had been ‘invaded’ by a native of the planet they orbited.

It turned out she had been.

Another Look

Month 6 Day 10

Smythe

2116 Hours

Smitty entered his quarters, stopped just inside the door. What a mess! Discs and papers were strewn across the desk, a chair was overturned, an open bottle rested against the bottom of the couch with a dark pool of whiskey surrounding it. One of my bottles, not hers.

He sighed and stepped into the bedroom, where a blanket lay on the floor, a boot beside it. He shook his head, tossed the blanket to the bed, put the boot in the closet, returned to the living room.

He set the chair upright, sat down to consider the computer screen. “Computer, reset to what was displayed before Lt Tall Bear looked at this screen.” His eyes automatically squinted as the screen brightened considerably. I wanted to see what she was looking at when they found her, but I can hardly see anything at all on this screen, the controls have been set so far from normal. I don’t remember Tall Bear mentioning that.

He reset the screen controls to something closer to 'normal' and glanced through the various files. Interesting. Not sure it makes sense. That file she started on her own isn’t using Gaelund. Definitely not Sciss. Just squiggles, to me. I’ll transfer these files to the bridge, and we can all take a stab at them together. As he reached to do that, his gaze landed on the lower border of the screen. These files are already being shared. With… Takor’s quarters? Takor’s on the bridge. Then who- I’d better find Tall Bear.

When Smitty left his room, a loud thump made him dash down the corridor in that direction. Outside Takor’s quarters, Ensign Ingersol was against the bulkhead but now slid unconscious to the floor. Smitty stopped short as Tall Bear backed out of the Scission’s room. The AmerInd was being shoved by a long ancient Scission weapon, which had a towel wrapped around the business end. The weapon's length meant that only as Tall Bear was pressed against the bulkhead did his assailant emerge, looking worried, but – for the moment – the master of the situation.

“Colleen!” Smitty blurted.

She didn’t respond, although Tall Bear flashed a palm in his direction, apparently to tell him not to interfere. The AmerInd’s gaze never left Colleen’s face. “Okay, Mac, I’m against the wall. You don’t want to hurt me, or you wouldn’t have padded the weapon. I can’t get you, but you can’t let go. Stalemate. Now what?”

Rather than answer, she took a drink from the bottle she held in one hand. That one’s her brand. I don’t know if Takor can tolerate alcohol.

Despite the earlier statement that Coleen was now deaf, Tall Bear continued to reason with her. “Come on, it’s me. The guy who makes sure you can eat lunch and study without being pestered, remember? There’s no need for us to be at odds. Just go to sick bay and let MacGregor check you out. It won’t take long; it’s plain you don’t have the flu.” Then he grunted. "Okay, you don't like that idea, but you don't need to shove a blunted weapon through my chest."

She finished the bottle's contents, reversed her hold on the neck and began to edge down the weapon toward him. Bear grabbed for her, and she jumped back. His hand didn’t get any closer than half a foot from her, but Smitty plainly saw a great black spark jump that gap. Tall Bear slumped to the floor. Colleen staggered, dropped the weapon and bottle, and sagged against the wall, breathing heavily.

Smitty stepped forward without thinking. “Colleen!”

Her head jerked up, as if she’d heard him. The pupils of her eyes roiled with shades of gray and green. A tear ran down her cheek. She reached out, as if to caress his face, and she spoke, but no sound came from her lips.

Smythe took another step. Her eyes darkened to pine, her hand snapped back and she slid away along the wall.

Tall Bear groaned, and Smitty looked at the 2 men on the floor. Colleen stopped to also look at the men, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She took half a step toward them, then stopped, misery and guilt plain on her face. She tossed a pleading look at Smitty, then turned and raced away.

Bear's right, she insulated the weapon to avoid shocking him, so she knows she’s electrically charged. Planned to use that bottle to knock him unconscious, so she didn’t realize how far that charge could jump. I think she heard me. And Bear’s groan. That was after the discharge. But I couldn’t hear what she said.

Smitty made sure Ingersol was breathing, then stepped to the nearest intercom. “Smythe to bridge.”

“Burke here,” the captain answered. He could hear her stifle a yawn. “What is it, Smitty?”

“I could use someone medical here on five, if there’s anyone available. They found Co- uh, MacDowell again. Ingersol’s unconscious, and Tall Bear’s semi-conscious.”

“I suppose she had returned to your quarters,” Winthrop sneered in the background.

“She was in Takor’s quarters,” Smitty returned icily. “Studying the same files she had open on my computer.”

“Since you only mentioned Ingersol and Tall Bear,” Jane stated, “I assume Lt MacDowell is no longer there.”

Smitty swallowed and glanced around. “No sign of her. She could be anywhere.”

“Good,” MacGregor breathed, barely heard by the engineer. “I’m on my way.”

“Are you sure, Duck?” Jane asked. “You look like last week’s spent fuel cell.”

“There’s no one else,” MacGregor returned.

“Try to find time for a nap,” the captain suggested. “Smitty, did you make any sense out of what MacDowell was… studying?”

“It’s a mishmash,” he answered. “It might help if I could make sense of her notes. I only recognized half the symbols she used, a kind of engineering shorthand." And when, exactly, did she learn that? "The other half is not Gaelund. The files are still open. Have Abdulla clone them to the bridge and you can see it yourself.”

“Great Spirit, what did she hit me with?” Tall Bear wondered as he tried to climb to his knees.

“Electricity,” Smitty answered. “I think. It jumped further than she expected it would, but didn’t seem to hinder her as much as it did you. And the bolt was black.”

“My entire arm is numb,” Tall Bear complained.

"Dr MacGregor is on his way," Jane stated across the intercom.

Yes, but telling him he looked like last week's spent fuel cell was pure flattery. "Stay where you are, Bear," Smitty suggested. "Ingersol's still unconscious, and we need to wait for MacGregor. Then I'll help you two-" Or rather, the 3 of them. "-get to sick bay.

Unhappy Report

Month 6 Day 10

Jane Burke

2109 Hrs

Winthrop stood next to Jane’s chair as they argued over the ship’s blueprint she had displayed on her personal screen. He’s admitted the current search isn’t likely to find the girl, but the only alternative he’ll consider is that he draft everybody, close all the airtights and conduct a ‘proper’ search. Completely ignoring the epidemic, the planet we’re orbiting and any reaction they might have to our presence. A security chief without flexible thinking is worse than no chief at all!

The intercom on Jane’s chair arm beeped. “Captain?” Tall Bear sounded breathless and somewhat confused.

Winthrop punched Jane’s reply button before she had a chance to. “Winthrop here. What is it, Bear?”

“Ahh,” Tall Bear stammered, probably surprised to be answered by his immediate boss rather than the captain. “We… found Mac. MacDowell. But she got away. She was on deck 5.”

“Her quarters are on four,” Winthrop pointed out sharply.

“Yes, sir,” the Amerind agreed calmly. “She wasn’t in her quarters.”

“Then where was she?” Winthrop demanded.

“She, uh… she was in Smythe’s quarters.”

Winthrop turned and glared at the communications console. “Smythe!”

Something sizzled and Smitty peered out of an open hatch again. “Now what?”

“Why was MacDowell in your quarters?”

“How would I know?” Smitty barked back. “She’s never been-“ He stopped suddenly and his cheeks went pink. “I’ve got work to do,” he stated and turned away.

“Perhaps you know her better than you pretend,” Winthrop remarked.

Smitty’s face returned to glare at the security chief. “What are you insinuating?”

“Enough!” Jane put enough bite in her voice to make even Winthrop pause. With a brief glare at him that she hoped might make him remember his place in the scheme of things, she punched the button on her intercom connection. “Lt Tall Bear, what did you find MacDowell doing in Mr Smythe’s quarters?”

“Studying.”

“I don’t believe it!” Duck groused in disgust, and wrapped his blanket tighter around himself. Jane exchanged confused looks with Bugalu, who rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“Exactly what was she studying?” Takor asked.

“I haven’t had time to look. Just a second.” The connection stayed open, and she heard a groan in the background. “You okay, Ingersol?”

“Space, she packs a punch!” Ingersol moaned.

Duck looked up. “She hit him?”

Winthrop interrupted. “How did she get away? There’s two of you, and she’s just a short bit of a girl.”

Some days, I wish he wasn't my subordinate so I could show him just what 'girls' can do.

It took a moment for Tall Bear to answer. “We underestimated her. She used her whiskey- she used a number of things as weapons. Threw whiskey in Ingersol’s eyes. We chased her into the bedroom, where she tossed a blanket over us. Then- I thought she was kicking us, but I found one of Mr Smythe’s spare boots next to us after she’d left, so I figure she hit us with the boot on her hand.”

“No direct physical contact,” Takor muttered.

“It felt like she kicked us,” Ingersol commented.

“After her!” Winthrop commanded. “She can’t have gotten far!”

“Just a moment!” Jane barked and paused to adjust her tunic. I have had just about enough of Winthrop! “Have you discovered what MacDowell was studying?”

“Kind of,” Tall Bear replied. "She’s got several files open, including basic radio, communications, some on theoretical radio transportation, engineering…”

“Yes, yes, very interesting,” Winthrop broke in. “But it doesn’t tell us where she’s gone! Get after her!”

“Mr Winthrop!” Jane said loud enough to get the man’s attention. “Must I remind you of one of the first lessons taught to security cadets? ‘Know your enemy!’ I, for one, am not sure Lt MacDowell is our enemy, but even if it turns out that she is – especially if it turns out she is – then it behooves us to learn all we can about what she is doing, in order to figure out what she might plan to do!”

“We have to find her, disable her, and get her locked up!” Winthrop argued. “We already know what she’s up to! She’s out to sabotage this ship! She attacked Mr Takor, and now she’s attacked two of my men! She’s got to be-“

“Enough!” Jane roared, rising to her feat. “Mr Winthrop, I am taking charge in this matter! For now, you will take a seat at the Weapons console, and your only concern is being prepared to return fire, should I order you to do so! Am I understood?”

“Captain, I am Chief of Security! It’s my duty-“

“You are an officer on my ship, and your first duty is to follow my orders! If you can’t, I will relieve you of all duties and have you confined to your quarters!”

At long last, it seemed she had gotten through to him. The wild defiance in his eyes finally settled, although she thought she still saw a hint of sly conniving. He gave her a sloppy salute. “Aye, aye, captain.” He turned and walked to the weapons console.

Takor stepped closer and quietly stated, "I do not believe Ms McDowell attacked me. It seemed pure accident."

"I'm aware of that, Takor." Jane sat back down, realized the intercom connection was still open. “Tall Bear, is there anything else MacDowell was studying?”

“Uh, yeah. Surprised me, but she had a file open on human biology, and…”

“Birds and bees,” Drake muttered, and Bugalu gave him a startled look.

“   another file,” Tall Bear went on, “that looks like notes, calculations. But some of the words, symbols don’t look familiar. I don’t even think they’re Scission.”

“Gaelund?” Jane suggested.

“I’d have to see it,” both Abdulla and Bugalu stated.

“Hmm. Tall Bear, leave the computer as it is; I’ll send someone down to take a look. How is Ingersol doing?”

“I’m okay, captain.” Ingersol’s voice came from further away than Tall Bear’s. “I just needed to, uh, catch my breath.”

“Good. Try to pick up MacDowell’s trail. And please be more careful the next time you find her. You might try talking to her.”

“He did try,” Ingersol stated. “It didn’t do any good.”

“Really?” Jane returned. “I thought you got along with nearly everyone, Bear.”

“Mac and I get along fine,” Bear answered. “But talking didn’t work because she didn’t hear me. Not just what I said, but any noise we made.”

“Yeah, she was acting pretty deaf,” Ingersol added. “Didn’t know we were there until she actually saw us.”

“Mac’s… deaf?” Bugalu muttered in shock.

I understand. How can she function as a communications officer if she can’t hear?

Abdulla tried to brush off her uniform as she turned from communications. “I’ll go look at what Mac was doing.”

Bugalu stood. “Captain, I volunteer to see what Mac was doing. I know how she thinks. I have an overview of both engineering and communications, a couple courses of biology, and her brother was my Academy roommate, so I can recognize Gaelund.”

“Captain,” Smitty said, emerged from inside the equipment and approached her chair. “I’ll go,” he stated. “It’s my quarters, I have the knowledge, including the theoretical.”

“Biology?” Jane asked quietly.

“Captain,” he protested.

“And recognizing Gaelunder?”

“One of my instructors was Gaelund,” he returned. “I still exchange letters with him, and he still sometimes forgets to translate a word or two. I can’t speak it, but I can recognize it. Did I mention it’s my quarters?”

Jane smiled. “Go. See if you can make sense of it.”

“Thank you, captain.”