Until the Dawn, page 21
"I guess it's not a good night to be a spy on this ship," Cassie commented as she watched him stomp angrily out of the Medical Ward.
Black Tie Affair
UNTIL THE DAWN
Chapter XII: Black Tie Affair
* * *
Trey Rem sat watching the stars from his seat in the Observatory wing, completely stunned. Not that it wasn't really great to see stars again, mind you… that part he was quite comfortable with. However, in the three weeks that had elapsed since Dr. Simon brought the unknown bacterial infection under control, the Waywardsman had steadily explored outward from its home galaxy. And outward further. And then further outward beyond even that.
They were currently situated somewhere in the midst of the Centaurus super-cluster. Distance measurements from home base were almost impossible now, if not for the carefully plotted waypoints they had established along the way. When all calculations were said and done, the Waywardsman had journeyed more than 1.5 billion light years from its original Milky Way starting point.
"That's over a hundred and fifty million light years for each pound George has grown!" he pointed out to Dr. Marcus as she walked by. "And thirty two million light years for each day that we've been in space. For God's sake how long can this go on? There's only so much area in our universe, you know."
"That's why it's called the known universe," said Jillian proudly. "Now that your team has got the train moving, it's our job to determine just how much area there is in the unknown."
"This is absolutely profound," said Trey. "For crying out loud, there are a lot of people on this ship – and I happen to be one of them – that really believe in the concept of Intelligent Design. I hope you're not going to try and find a scientific explanation for everything we discover out here. You'll blow our faith and we'll have nothing left to spiritually comfort us!" He looked out the window again. "After all, everyone knows the universe is filled with a colossal number of galaxies – each containing an unbelievable star count – so why do you have to go and try and map it all, anyway? Aren't men supposed to be the over-aggressive, OCD type?"
Since she was standing, Jillian leaned her head down next to Trey and whispered softly in his ear, "Centaurus is not just a galaxy or just a star cluster. It's a super-cluster containing hundreds – perhaps even thousands – of smaller galaxies, depending upon how and where we decide to draw our perimeter lines."
"Oh, now I understand," Trey acknowledged dryly. "It's a super-cluster. Thank you for pointing that out Doctor. Now this journey to the edge of infinity makes perfect sense."
Jillian sat down at her desk and began typing rapidly on the keyboard of her laptop. "Why are you here again?" she asked, resting one of the ear tips from her glasses against her lower lip. "Did the Captain suddenly decide I need a babysitter? Did he think that someone constantly playing Devil's Advocate would lighten my mood? Aren't there literally a dozen other places on this ship where you could be right now?"
"I'm on a survey assignment to become more familiar with your Observatory," said Trey proudly. "Since the CAS Drive is functioning like a finely tuned machine the Captain wants me to be ready to assist your staff with software adjustments to the telescope equipment as we move farther and farther from home." He grinned widely. "That means you better get used to seeing more of me!"
"If your goal is to survey the Observatory then why don't you start looking at our equipment and stop stargazing out the windows for God's sake?"
"I'll get to that," Trey decided, "After I finish my study of this phenomenally awesome view that you've found for us."
"The Captain wanted me to locate something appropriate for tonight's Fourth of July celebration," she said absently, carefully studying the screen on her laptop. "So I killed two birds with one stone. While you and the civilians are partying tonight, we here in the Observatory plan to busy ourselves with the observing process." She quickly looked him up and down. "Speaking of the celebration, do you have a date yet?"
"Uh, I don't know if that's such a good idea…" Trey said shyly. "I don't normally handle social situations with females very well. And since I'm also still under Doctor's orders to take things easy, I was just planning on spending the evening in my quarters with George…" He stopped in mid-sentence as Nell walked up and handed Jillian a handful of computer disks.
The first thing that captivated him was her short dark hair, then her eyes. Trey drank in the pure sight of the cute young administrative assistant and she smiled warmly back at him. The mere sight of her smile instantly activated every male-response trigger in his body at once. His normally focused thinking quickly began to move to a high speed blur. His mouth opened and he tried desperately to convince his brain to activate his vocal cords. "Hi… uhm… hullo," he barely managed.
"Nell." She said, smiling again.
Trey struggled to avoid falling out of his seat. "Hello Nell," he said finally. A part of his subconscious was screaming for him not to say anything further to her, so he impulsively asked the question leaping to the front of his mind as fast as he could before that part of him had a chance to win. "Nell, do you by any chance have plans for the Fourth of July celebration, yet?"
"Why no I don't actually," she said, grinning in sheer delight at his obvious discomfort and the war he was fighting with his shyness. "I might drop by the Garden wing for a bit though, just to see how things are going. I've been working all morning already. By evening I'll have put in plenty of time so I'll almost certainly be ready for a break. Maybe I'll see you there."
"Save me a dance, will you please?" he asked, again saying the sentence as fast as he could before the fear in him had a chance to prevail. He hoped that it didn't sound like he was begging, but as a human male he was fully prepared to do so if necessary.
"I most certainly will, Trey Rem," she said cheerfully before idly wandering back to her desk. He watched her attractive, slim figure recede in absolute male awe and then noticed Jillian was studying him just as carefully.
"Okay, Dr. Marcus perhaps you're right," he said, trying desperately to clear his fogged head. "I think that the rest of my survey can wait."
"You pounce and then you run!" Jillian replied, laughing so hard her shoulders were shaking, "You men are all the same… every last one of you!"
"Well, no offense Doctor, but dating is an imperfect process," Trey commented, leaning one arm against her desk. He whispered into her ear, "It can be even more intimidating when trying to initiate a romantic encounter while in the presence of an older woman."
Astonishingly, he nearly made it out the hatchway before she caught him.
* * *
Aaron fumbled around in Trey' kitchen, searching desperately for the dry kibble he needed to feed George. The black and white kitten, now about ten pounds strong, was watching him suspiciously from the living room. Every now and then Aaron would look up in frustration and George would catch his eye and respond with a loud "Meow!"
"I know – trust me – I'm looking for your damn food, cat!" Aaron said. "And this is the last time I waste part of my day off stopping by to feed you, that's for sure!" Behind him Liane laughed loudly while watching him continue to hunt for the food. She carefully picked up George's other bowl and washed it out in the sink before replacing its contents with fresh water.
"Meow," George yowled again, flopping over on his side to watch Aaron from a more comfortable position. His long black tail whipped back and forth, signaling his curiosity.
"Where is Trey, anyway?" Liane asked. "Has he been returned to duty?"
"On a limited basis," Aaron informed her, pulling a box of dry cat kibble out from a cabinet beneath the sink. "Aha! We've found the cat food," he grinned, carefully refilling the cat's bowl. "He's going to start coming to the Council meetings and also work part-time in the Observatory. The Captain feels that's enough for now."
"Council meetings, huh," she replied. "Word is the Brotherhood spy was sentenced today… what was his name – Wrangler?" She paused but couldn't resist asking. "Did you decide to toss him out an airlock?"
"He's going to live," said Aaron firmly. "We discussed it for quite a while, but death is always the easy way to deal with situations like that." He put the box of cat food back into its cabinet and shut the door. "His face has permanent scarring from the illness he recklessly brought on board so he's going to have to live with that, first of all. We also decided to assign him to work in one of the restaurants on deck four."
"Is he going to be safe there?" queried Liane inquisitively. "Even if he himself isn't guilty of murder, I'm sure he's going to take a lot of heat for spying on our ship and for what his people did to ours back on Earth. That hangar four crew is a tough crowd, especially when they've been drinking the 'stuff they don't have on board'."
"He more than earned exposure to a little personal danger, don't you think?" responded Aaron. "Wrangler has agreed to continue to cooperate with Dr. Simon and her efforts to learn more about his unique… biology. The Captain has ordered her to create a high-level security file to document everything she finds out. That's all I can tell you for now, the rest is considered classified by the Captain."
"I can always find out what I need to know by withholding sex," she told him, stepping up behind him and wrapping her arms around his stomach.
"That weapon is rapidly vacating your arsenal for the time being, woman," grinned Aaron, turning to face her and patting her rapidly growing tummy. "Seriously though, what can our Brotherhood spy do?" he asked. "As long as he works in the restaurant, right in front of God and everybody, the Captain has authorized a marine guard to protect him. The rest of the time he's confined to his quarters, which are thoroughly searched twice a week the same as if he was in a prison cell."
"Sooner or later, someone's going to take a swing at him," predicted Liane. "I've been tempted to myself, considering what he was planning to do to our ship."
"From a security standpoint, we need to find out who the hotheads and trouble makers are," said Aaron. "So he's kind of doubling as a flash point. If anyone attacks him, they'll be prosecuted the same as they would be if they assaulted anyone else."
"You keep saying him. Are you even sure it is a he?" she wondered. "I've heard these Brotherhood people have had lots of… work done."
"The Doctor is pretty certain," he replied. "She says he's a human being – probably cloned – with genetic enhancements to improve his brain power, senses and strength. Other than that, she really can't tell us more because it all goes in the Captain's classified file… at least for now." He stopped and thought carefully for a moment, deciding how much he was authorized to tell her. "His advantage is gone now. When we leaped away from our home star system he lost the connection he had with his powerful friends. He's quite alone now, at our mercy and very scared."
"As long as he doesn't hurt anyone, I'm satisfied. Although I'm not sure some of the civilians on board will agree with your decision."
Aaron watched her smile nervously and grinned back reassuringly. "Well, now that we've taken care of George I think we should go and get ready for the Fourth of July celebration."
"What a great idea," decided Liane. "I want to dance the night away, Mister." She kissed him and he held onto her warmly.
"By the way – how is our friend Lieutenant Douglas dealing with the fact that he's our new air group commander?" asked Aaron curiously.
"Walter is just fine," she replied. "He loves the Waywardsman project and is truly glad we got to come out this far to snoop around." She smiled. "The best part is that he's more of a brain like Trey than a gifted pilot. He spends a lot of his spare time reading and therefore is not the hotshot flyboy who's likely to win my job away from me."
"Nobody is going to take your job," Aaron said confidently. "I've seen your flying and there isn't anybody that crazy left on the ship."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, sir," she said, fluttering her eyelids at him. She took his hand and they headed toward the doorway together.
"Don't eat too much of that food, there, George," Aaron suggested as they walked past the cat on the floor. "You've grown too much already in just three short weeks."
"Meow," the cat replied between cat food crunches, just before the door slid shut.
* * *
Several large areas in the Garden wing had been roped off and decorated in reds, whites and blues specifically for the evening party. The main staging area was currently occupied by a group of musicians playing swing music when Melissa arrived… she quickly surveyed the crowd looking for Greg. Frustrated, she headed over to one of the tables by the side of the nearest walking path and poured herself a glass of punch. Lots of people were already dancing and she watched them curiously while she waited. She knew he had worked most of the afternoon but was not in the mood to forgive him for tardiness – she had not come here just to watch other people dance. She wanted to step right up and get things started.
"How are you, Lieutenant?" Norris said from behind her. "Or should I have said… how are you doing there, oh beautiful lady in a bright red dress?" She turned and smiled, sipping punch from her glass.
"Half of us are here, anyway," she commented as he stepped up beside her and turned to do his own survey of the crowd.
"Don't be too hard on Greg," smiled William. "I've had him checking and double-checking the Canary probe data very thoroughly prior to each and every PTP transit. The rest of his staff has done a really great job taking over for Trey but they still need some time to beat the learning curve. That's a pretty sophisticated singularity we've got burning beneath the ship."
"Blah blah blah blah blahh," Melissa said, setting her empty cup on the table. "If you won't ask, I will. Would you like to dance, Captain?"
"I'd be delighted," he said cheerfully, taking her by the hand and guiding her arm to his.
They stepped out into the area reserved for dancing and began a conservative two-step. As they danced, the Captain glanced over to the kids' corner, where a clown was clumsily handing out animal balloons while trying to avoid tripping over his huge shoes. James was in there somewhere amidst all the kids, clamoring with the rest of them for the entertainer's attention.
"Who's manning the Command Dome?" Melissa asked.
"Aaron is up there with a skeleton crew for now," responded Norris. "And after a few quick dances and a 'how're ya' doing' or two I'm headed right back up there so he can pick up Liane and head on over." He chuckled. "You should see him – he's sitting up there in my chair wearing all his formal stuff. It looks like he's waiting for a party to find him!"
"You should have snapped his picture and E-Noted it to all the officers," Melissa said. "I can see the caption now… new fleet uniforms required while on duty!" She smiled in relief as she saw Greg walking toward them, all dressed up himself.
"Why Captain, I do believe you're making moves on my woman," he said cheerfully. "Must I challenge thee to a duel?"
"I defer to you, sir," the Captain replied, holding up his hands and backing away. "I'm going to go check on James and see how many balloons he's stuck to the roof. From what I hear, he's getting pretty good at decorating the ceilings in here."
Melissa couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Balloons are new," she commented as Greg began dancing with her. "Usually James uses the fruit from the trees."
"I know, I have been reading the reports from Jeffrey's maintenance staff," Norris said with a smirk. "Please enjoy yourselves, folks. You do good work and I'm proud to have you as part of my crew."
Melissa leaned out slightly from behind Greg's large frame to watch the Captain as he walked over toward the children's area. "He's sure in a good mood, isn't he?" she said. "I wonder what's so special in his world these days."
"Maybe he's happy to see everyone having a good time for a change," suggested Greg, spinning her once while holding onto just the fingertips of her left hand. She completed the twirl and he pulled her close again. "Why don't we sneak away real quick for a romantic walk through those trees behind you?" he whispered into her ear.
"Now that's a great idea," she decided.
If anyone noticed them leaving they didn't say anything. The couple quickly ducked behind a grove of nearby trees and Greg led her steadily further back into the woodsy area of the Garden wing. They continued on for quite a ways, and Melissa found it hard to believe just how much room there was for grass and growing things. It was a spectacular sight, and they weren't even in the area for growing crops yet!
"Are you into the spirit of the party yet?" Greg asked, beginning to dance with her again. The music in the background had faded, but they could still hear it and he pressed his cheek close to hers. She closed her eyes and just danced with him for a few minutes before noticing just how far into the Garden wing he had led her.
