Chapter 2

The captain seemed to run a tidy ship. There were no lights needing replacement in the corridors and everything was clean. On clan ships the essentials were in order but it wasn't uncommon to come across a side hallway with lights out. "This ship looks more sterile than a family operated ship," I thought. "It's probably how a Fleet ship looks on the inside."

Just beyond the mess-hall corridor's bulkhead door, we entered a common room, place where crewmen could relax in a social setting. It was well-lit and cheerful with a number of men and women lazing around. In the corner of the compartment was a large vidscreen, which displayed a first-person shooter game. It looked like a three member team was playing against another team in a wooded environment. Of course, they were all clean-shaven; licensed spacers had a facial-hair removal procedure done. It was some bureaucratic rule that never bothered anyone. Spacers and planet-bound males recognized each other quickly enough, it wasn't uncommon to hear "baby face" or "hairy-ape" when there was a disagreement between us. Some cultures didn't like the facial hair rule but empire space guilds seemed to like the barrier, which was enthusiastically enforced by the fleet.

My mind alerted me to a smell. The aroma of coffee was in the air, stimulating my brain cells. The rich scent tickled old memories of coffee with Kate. We had studied together with a pot of coffee within reach. The random memory made me sigh. "No one was going to want to stop while I indulged in a java fix." I just imprinted the location of the coffee machine, not saying anything.

A couple of corridors later across from another elevator, Merritt stopped outside a bulkhead door.

"This is the Tree Loft," she said. "It's our communications and sensor center. The high ceiling makes the space feel larger and more spacious than it really is. We think the loft environment promotes a more collaborative environment. This is another example of the designers wanting to help overcome the impact of confined spaces on long missions."

The security hulk added, "A few rooms like this, spread out in the ship, creates positive energy flow in the crew."

The large compartment was two stories high, more or less a vaulted dome, with a central rib reinforcing the ceiling. The support rib looked like a massive oak tree that reached the summit of the dome with lesser limbs spreading over the ceiling, in all directions. It looked like a forest canopy. The dome was a mixture of green color and textures, with relatively sparse patches of light filtering through the heavy layer of fake leaves. Diffused light filled the rest of the room, except for bright desk lights on active console decks. The compartment's walls were a light green and the central rib was a dark brown.

The white uniformed crew worked on two floors. Most of the consoles were spread out on the main floor. A green, grated-metal mezzanine deck lined the walls, making the second floor workspace. The decking was just wide enough for a console acceleration couch, complete with workstation and a walkway with a guardrail. I saw about a dozen console cubicles on the mezzanine level. The whole compartment was as quiet as the deep woods.

The importance of the room struck me. "I want to talk to the person on duty for interstellar communications," I said firmly, looking at the security team. "The commander did say I was a VIP."

The hulk shrugged and took up station by the door. His partner silently followed his example. It was clear who the senior man was.

Merritt commented. "We could do it later. These two guys are released from following you once you visit Medical. It's standard protocol for them to escort you to the doctor for your exam."

My quiet resolve answered her. Understanding, she guided me inside and up a ramp to the mezzanine level. Her shapely derriere was an easy object to follow. Merritt stopped at the first workstation and pointed at the long-haired woman. Above her desk was a plaque with "Message Torpedo" printed on it.

"Hello," said the slender woman, unfazed at our arrival. She rested her small hands patiently on her pants, waiting for us to declare our purpose.

"I'd like to send an outbound message through the communication buoy system to Solon."

She didn't blink an eye. Instead she looked at me intently, processing my unusual request. Heads popped up from workstations around us, turning to watch the exchange. I could ill afford to have the woman send me away. The communications woman prattled on about message torpedo technical details that marginally interested me.

Finally, the tech explained, "Due to the expense, sending a message through the buoy system is a command level decision."

Before my disappointment took hold the console screen changed and an ethereal voice spoke from the speaker.

"Excuse me, Ensign Abhati," the voice said.

The little woman quickly stood up. She did not even measure up to my chest. The nostrils of her fat nose flared in a panic and her full brows arched in surprised. Her long, black hair swished against my body as she turned to face her console.

"Miley?" the tech asked.

"Correct, Ensign Abhati," the voice in the speaker answered. "Please refer to your vidscreen for standing orders regarding Ensign Solon and the message torpedo assigned to him."

We both leaned over her console, reading the instructions regarding the "Solon property." My mother had the foresight to purchase a message torpedo, in the hope of a successful rescue mission.

"Thank you, Miley. I wasn't aware of this pre-mission briefing order," the ensign responded. "Mister Solon, you may send your interstellar message. The privacy booth is at the end of the walkway."

She pointed the way. In one look something passed between Merritt and Abhati, but the significance was lost on me.

"Thank you," I respond, looking into the black eyes of the tech. She didn't seem to mind I'd invaded her personal space in the confusion.

A smile emerged from Abhati's round face, as I stood straight again and itched my sweaty palms. "You have an Imperial implant, right? So, Miley can interface with your clan encryption for your use in the booth. She can upload any secure data files it has, if you wish."

"Miley is Entous' Artificial Intelligence?" I asked.

"Yes," Merritt said. "Normally, she only talks to command personnel. At least, that is what I am told. The Captain is sensitive to the political unrest that has developed around A.I.s. I haven't talked to her before."

Abhati nodded in agreement, giving me an insight into their surprise at the voice. The political climate change was news to me, something to discuss with Merritt or Kate another time. Merritt stayed with the ensign, talking in hushed tones, as I entered the soundproof booth.

Before closing the door, my keen ears heard Abhati whisper to Merritt, "You retrieved one attractive man. Does he dance?"

Inside the small booth, I raked my fingers through my hair until it looked vaguely respectable, it was rather long from my time on Haven. A small vidscreen and keyboard was mounted on the wall, under a camera. Behind me was the seal of the Entous with its motto, 'Teamwork endures any adversity."

Manipulating the menu on the display, I selected clan encryption over the Fleet standard protocol and selected, 'upload all secure implant data files.' After typing recipient and destination, I looked at the camera and talked to my mother, telling my story and the tale of how her brother saved my life. Lady Solon was a strong woman, so I left nothing out. Between blinks and behind my eyelids, I noticed my implant interface listed a number of video files and data files it uploaded. Most of the files were from Webster, our doomed ship's artificial intelligence. The files were labeled anomaly, planetary survey, combat, medical, other scientific, and ship's log. I ignored them, trying to focus on my concluding thoughts and words.

"In summary, it looks like the unstable wormhole creates or opens some type of gravitational time dilation. On the other side of that wormhole, time passed normally and I was there just over a year. I realize for you much more time has occurred. I am sorry for all the pain and sorrow you had to live with during those years. It wasn't our idea to become some sort of new data point in the fourth dimension. The wormhole pulled us out of jump space and ate our vessel. Yet, it was a miracle for the prototype-explorer ship to survive. That is, it kept us alive to get to the planet. Your brother got us down safely in the escape pod but he never woke up after the landing. He is my hero.

"Mother, I expect you to be pressed for information about Haven and to hear a lot of speculation about my rescue. At the very least, FastNews or some other news organizations will bother you about your shuttle and the wormhole phenomena. The public will assume the mysterious vortex leads to vast wealth. It will hurt Haven to provide the universe too much useful data. You have a number of grandchildren on Haven that I intend on getting back to see. They are the wealth on the other side."

I felt choked up thinking about my wives, "Mother, my devout wish is to return to Haven."

Before ending I asked her to file a discovery claim on Haven for me, using the planetary survey data as evidence. In a worst case scenario, the discovery rights put Haven under Solon's protection. Official standing by Solon and the Empire might help if outsiders found a way to follow me back.

After exiting the booth, I thanked the ensign for her help, using a gesture I learned on Haven to emphasis my sincerity. In front of a surprisingly, large number of young ladies now at her desk, I took Abhati's hand and kissed it. She beamed a smile at me. Merritt giggled and grasped my hand, leading me down the ramp. We left behind a cackling crowd of female sensor techs, teasing the ensign about the opportunity to handle a youthful, male torpedo.

Back in the passageway, the two men were where we left them. With her head, Merritt motioned for me to follow. We entered the open elevator door. We ascended one more floor and exited in front of Medical. The reception station was empty, except for one lone crewman sitting next to an instrument panel. He was vigorously wiping the box down, probably killing time. I knew our sightseeing was over and I worried about what the doctors would uncover.

The crewman looked up and said, "You must be the castaway." He smiled, enjoying his own dry joke.

I stared back at him, feeling disrespected, until he cleared his throat. "You must have some interesting experiences to share with us."

Not interested in the guy, I looked around the room. There would be others like him fishing for details. I noticed the two security guys had already left.

Finally Merritt said, "Should we wait in an exam room?"

The question created a flicker of humor in the man's tone, "That's why you're here right?"

He chuckled and waved us to follow. The guy was clearly a fill-in or a really bad greeter. He looked at his PDA with a bored look. "Solon. Right?"

"Yeah. Good guess. Was it the hair?" I asked.

The guy arched his brow, but kept his smile. It occurred to me the guy just didn't have social skills, meaning no offense. "I shouldn't think everyone is a jerk. Let's show a little more tolerance."

"Solon, that's me."

"Thought so," the man said, remaining casual and seeming to enjoy himself. "The doctor will be along soon."

He left Merritt and me in a small consultation room with a conference table and a mirror. Looking at the mirror, I noted my long hair and the healthy, tanned hue of my skin.

"You're quite the contrast to the pale white skin of the spacer you were," Merritt said.

"I spent a lot of time outdoors," I responded, matter-of-factly.

"Your blue eyes are very striking," she continued.

"Yes, I like what I see too." Not letting her flirt go unchallenged. "A woman like her wants to be appreciated," I thought.

An older nurse, perhaps in her fifties, entered the room and put her data tablet on the table. She wore an ear bud and was talking into her communications collar.

"That's right normal vital signs. No sign of abnormalities in his organs or his blood," she declared, pausing to listen to her ear bud. "No. Miley has reviewed the data too ... but, surely you could insist and authorize further biological reviews. Allow our life-science specialists."

I looked at Merritt questioningly. It was clear this person was unhappy with someone.

She continued, "Yes, sir. Of course a rescue is not a science experiment. Thank you, Captain."

The woman angrily pulled out the earpiece, picked up her PDA and left the room. Merritt just shrugged her shoulders.

"She wasn't from Medical. I know all the medical people," Merritt said. "That was neither a nurse nor a doctor."

Reading between the lines it wasn't hard to deduct someone was trying to game the system and got caught. Someone outside of Medical had looked at the healing bed data, and that took command access.

Someone entered the room behind me.

Merritt said, "Hello Doctor."

I turned to see a stout man with thick, brown hair. He looked annoyed. "Your sister is a little stressed."

"It was an intense flight," Merritt mumbled.

The short man looked at me. With no preamble, he said, "Miley retrieved your medical records and compared them to the diagnostic from the stasis chamber. The results from the most sophisticated diagnostic device in the Empire states you are in perfect health, Mr. Solon. You are actually healthier than your last medical scan in the Academy. Now since they didn't use a healing bed, the results are naturally not going to be a perfect match."

I felt a 'but' coming.

"But when you were placed in the healing bed by the medic you were suffering multiple contusions, major lacerations, and you were full of a highly toxic poison."

"That's nothing I don't know about." I grumbled.

"The healing bed saved your life. You lost a lot of blood. While that is all interesting, the damage to your brain from an earlier injury is one of those things I want to discuss."

I intercepted his next comments before he got on a roll again. "I hit my head coming out of the wormhole to the uncharted system. I assume my uncle dragged me to the escape pod because my memory has gaps between that accident and arriving on the planet. While on the planet, I had long term memory issues, wide sections of my personal history were unavailable to me."

"And now?" The doctor rubbed a finger along his jaw.

"I remember everything about my relationships and personal history. The healing bed must have repaired something," I said.

"Miley has pulled your medical history off your implant. It shows you were injured rather frequently while on the planet. Yet, there are no time gaps in the data stream. However, there are years of your life missing. Miley assures me the device is in working order and it is undamaged by your adventures," the doctor said.

He stared at me, half expecting an explanation. I shrugged.

"Did your ship have some sort of deep sleep module? I understand your uncle's ship was an advanced prototype. The commander said it had a lot of next generation equipment on it. Something the Solons are famous for..."

"That is a clan secret." The words just popped out of my mouth. "That should give them something to think about," I thought.

He smirked and pulled up a menu on the data pad. "You are cleared from Medical. But I am entering an order for you to see the ship's counselor within the next three days." He punched his pad and looked at me. "Welcome to the Entous. You may go."

Eager and excited, I bolted from the room. Once in the hallway, I realized the door to an examine room was open and I walked towards the sound of Kate's irritated voice.

"I can't believe this," she said.

Kate looked like she had a load on her shoulders. Her dark eyes were puffy, tired looking. She saw me and turned away. She was reclining on a medical bed.

A woman broke the moment, "Kate, you look terrible."

"Not really, considering the length and nature of the mission," Kate quipped to the unseen woman.

"It's only overnight observation. You heard the doctor. Your hand is infected from a wound on a strange planet," the woman insisted.

"Thanks for coming with me to see the doctor. I'll talk to you later. Perhaps a rest will make me feel better," Kate responded.

"Okay," the woman answered. "But we aren't done talking about us."

"That's fine, Julia. Close the door behind you please," Kate said. "We'll talk later."

The short exchange completed, Merritt pulled me out to the reception area, wanting to avoid the departing woman. I closed my mouth and pushed a hollow feeling aside. "Kate won't even look at me."

Merritt pulled me through the reception area into a side hallway that was still in the medical ward. She caught a woman by the arm and whispered in her ear. The other woman did an about face and walked with purpose around the corner. Before I knew it, Merritt lifted my palm to a door panel. The bio-metric panel registered my name, displaying it below a green facsimile of my palm print. The office door unlocked and Merritt tugged me in. I was still sulking with my confused feelings and let her guide me where she wanted.