by Mary E. Lowd
An excerpt from Voyage of the Wanderlust. If you’d prefer, you can start with Chapter 1, return to the previous chapter, or skip ahead.
Captain Carroway slept fitfully that night. It was her first night as a captain, her first night sleeping in captain’s quarters, but her dreams were haunted by the faces of the officers she hadn’t met and intended to dismiss as soon as she did meet them. All night, her sleeping mind struggled with the tasks that lay ahead of her, as if by focusing hard enough, she could work her way through them in her dreams and complete the suicide mission inside her own mind, where no one could really die, because nothing was real.
By the time morning rolled around, Captain Carroway was a rumpled, grumpy, irritable mess. At least, that’s how she felt on the inside. On the outside, she brushed her fluffy, tufted fur until it looked smooth and flowing. Downright glossy. She stared at her own green eyes in the mirror until she could make them sparkle appropriately and her pointed ears stood tall.
When she greeted Vossie, who was already on the bridge waiting for her — punctual as always — the Morphican looked glum but well-rested. Carroway had asked him in the past about how he managed to always look well-rested, even in situations where sleep evaded her like a tricksy little song-bird teasing a pre-uplift cat, singing so appealingly but always fluttering just out of reach of her claws. Apparently, his computer implant helped regulate his sleep, so he’d never known a night of sleep that was less than utterly easy and restful in his entire life.
Sometimes, Captain Carroway thought that having a computer implanted directly into her brain, whispering numbers at her all the time, would be worth it just for that side-effect. This was one of those mornings. A morning when she looked at Lt. Cmdr. Vossie’s computer implant, flickering peacefully on his brow, beneath his long ears, and just wanted to yank it right out and jam it into her own head, hoping for just a little touch of the restful sleep it could grant.
Of course, it didn’t work like that. Lt. Cmdr. Vossie’s implant wouldn’t pull out of his head easily — it would leave a gaping, bleeding wound filled with ripped wires — and even if it did, the device wouldn’t do anyone else any good without brain surgery.
So, instead of sleep or computer implants, Captain Carroway settled for synthesizing herself a mug of steaming hot coffee, thick with cream. Most uplifted animals from Earth didn’t drink coffee, even though it was a characteristically earthen beverage, but it was one of Carroway’s most treasured pleasures.
Back before uplift, the caffeine in coffee had been toxic for cats and dogs, and a lingering distaste made it uncommon as a choice these days. However, coffee was known to have been popular among humans before they disappeared, so some religious dogs drank the bitter elixir as a way of paying tribute to the species who’d uplifted them.
Carroway wasn’t religious; although sometimes, coffee made her feel that way. She just drank coffee because the caffeine made life more tolerable for her. She was hooked on it. Completely hooked. Though, the Jumaria juice she’d had at Scharm’s bar the previous afternoon had been pretty good too. She might consider it a reasonable substitute in a pinch, but she did prefer the milky, acrid taste of creamy coffee. The way it burned and tortured her tongue was a profound pleasure, and as she sipped the scalding drink, she found herself wondering: how many cups of coffee were left in her life?
Captain Carroway shuddered as she settled into her captain’s seat, hot mug in paw.
Precisely on the dot, four junior crew members padded their way onto the bridge in an orderly row. Ears perked, tails wagged, and at the sight of such youthful optimism, Captain Carroway’s heart felt like it had been hit with a vacuum bomb and was imploding on itself like an unlucky white dwarf star.
She tried to remind herself that she was about to save the lives of the two tabby cats and scruffy mutt who stood in front of her. Sure, some admiral who’d never looked these kids in the face had consigned them to death under her command, but she was going to commute their sentence.
She was a savior.
Sure.
The coffee in the mug between Carroway’s paws wasn’t the only bitter thing on the bridge of The Wanderlust this morning.
The four young officers announced themselves to Captain Carroway, and she stared at their faces longer than she probably should have. Trying to memorize them. Trying to soak up everything about them that she could, so she could hold it close and tell herself that she’d accomplished something meaningful when this mission went to hell.
All of them except Ensign Lee. Of course. She couldn’t bring herself to look the poor Papillon in his eyes. She would need to. She couldn’t bring him on a suicide mission without looking him in the eyes. But she would give herself time. She would work up to it.
“All of you except for Ensign Lee are dismissed,” Captain Carroway hissed through her pointed fangs.
The cats looked miffed; the mutt just looked confused. But all three of them filed away without giving her any trouble. They had no idea what a favor she’d just done them. That was okay. Captain Carroway wasn’t interested in being a hero. She never had been, no matter what her previous captain had thought about her stunt during the Archidopteran skirmish. She’d been trying to save lives then, and she was trying to save lives now.
“Captain, may I ask you a question?” Ensign Lee woofed, his voice high and quavering. He was clearly troubled by the dismissal of his colleagues. They were probably his friends. They’d probably been looking forward to sharing this assignment together.
Captain Carroway still couldn’t bring her green eyes to look at his face, only his hind paws standing on the floor of the bridge. Her bridge. Her ship.
Her junior officer.
Captain Carroway raised her gaze until her eyes met Ensign Lee’s. His brown eyes were filled with feelings: confusion, certainly, but also hope. He shouldn’t hope. The fact that Carroway could see hope in Lee’s eyes killed her.
But not as much as the vacuum bomb would when they succeeded at their mission.
Before Carroway could give her junior officer permission to ask his question, Lt. Cmdr. Vossie piped up from his station at the side of the bridge: “I also have questions,” he said.
Captain Carroway sighed, and instead of letting her crew question her, she said, “You’re wondering why I dismissed half of our crew.”
“Yes,” Lt. Cmdr. Vossie agreed, sardonically. His left ear tip had flopped forward in the way that made him look skeptical and questioning.
Ensign Lee refrained from speaking, but Captain Carroway could see in his eyes that she’d pinpointed his question exactly.
“Do you have replacement officers in mind?” Lt. Cmdr. Vossie pressed.
“No,” Captain Carroway answered. “We’re going to carry out this mission with a crew of four. The three of us, and a pilot I’ve already requisitioned.”
“Regulations state that this ship requires a crew of at least six,” Ensign Lee barked, looking like he felt his paws were on steadier ground now that there was a regulation he could quote.
“This isn’t going to be a regulation mission,” Captain Carroway snapped. “Can it be done with four officers? The four officers I’ve listed?”
Ensign Lee got very quiet for a moment, but Captain Carroway stared at the pretty little butterfly-eared dog until he admitted, “Yes.” Then he hedged the statement adding, “I believe so.”
Captain Carroway felt like she was beating up a puppy. But no matter how she felt, it wasn’t true: Ensign Lee was a full grown dog and an officer in the Tri-Galactic Navy. He had signed up for this job. And sometimes…
Sometimes this job was horrible. Just immeasurably horrible.
Captain Carroway sighed. She forced herself to keep looking Ensign Lee in the eye as she said, “I’m sure this wasn’t what you were expecting from this posting. And I’m sorry that we’ve gotten off on the wrong paw here. But you should know: I selected you to stay aboard The Wanderlust as part of this absolutely minimal crew because the records showed you were far and away the most qualified.”
Ensign Lee’s butterfly ears perked up a little at his captain’s praise.
“For reasons that I’m not going to get into right now–” Captain Carroway couldn’t help shooting a glance at Lt. Cmdr Vossie, but the Morphican showed no reaction to her words. He was steady as ever. “–it’s absolutely essential that this mission be run with as small of a crew as can be managed, and from what I’ve seen in all of the dossiers I read last night, it would take two officers to replace you.”
Captain Carroway wanted to tell Ensign Lee that his competence was saving the lives of his friends. But it would have been cruel and unnecessary to burden him with the weight that she and Vossie were carrying. He didn’t need to know. At least, not yet. So, she stayed vague, saying only what she felt she could safely say: “You should know that your exemplary record is proving invaluable.”
Ensign Lee still looked a little troubled, but his long-furred tail wagged behind him. And after a moment, his delicate muzzle broke into a smile. When that little Papillon smiled, he absolutely beamed. The radiance of it burned inside Captain Carroway’s heart, and she had to look away. She couldn’t let herself care too much about this officer. She was responsible for him, but they weren’t going to have a long and satisfying working relationship together.
They were going to do something far more intimate: they were going to die together. And soon.
How many more cups of coffee?
Captain Carroway wanted to take a savoring sip of the coffee gripped in her paws — she was gripping it like the mug was the anchor holding her steady in a universe she might just flicker out of if she let go — but suddenly, the idea of eating or drinking anything made her feel sick. She couldn’t even enjoy one of her very last cups of coffee.
“We need to prepare to embark,” Captain Carroway said. “Make sure everything is ready, so we can leave as soon as our pilot arrives.”
If she had to die, she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. That wasn’t logical. Everything would be over for her. There was nothing to look forward to after this mission, nothing worth racing toward. Shouldn’t she savor every moment left? But also, how could she enjoy anything with this mission looming over her tufted, fluffy ears?
If the crew of The Wanderlust dragged out their preparations, there could be several days between now and the end. But this was hard enough, Carroway couldn’t afford to drag it out. It was better to face her fate today.
For the next few hours, Ensign Lee trained Captain Carroway and Lt. Cmdr. Vossie on The Wanderlust’s unusual systems. The Norwegian Forest cat and Morphican learned more about how to handle the mycelial components of The Wanderlust’s computer systems than they’d possibly have time to use during the remaining hours of their lives, but learning something new was a better way to stay occupied and distracted from their impending doom than anything else Captain Carroway could think up. Besides, there was a minuscule possibility that something learned could save their lives.
Captain Carroway couldn’t let go of that hope, even if she didn’t believe it. They did learn one neat trick though — Lt. Cmdr. Vossie’s computer implant could be plugged into his station using a mycelial cord, allowing him to interface directly with The Wanderlust’s shipboard AI. It wouldn’t save their lives, so far as Captain Carroway could tell, but it might shave seconds off of his reaction times here or there, and maybe, just maybe, that would make a minor difference.
When Timothy Melbourne finally arrived, he was escorted by an ursine security guard. The snow white cat had bright blue eyes, hearing aids in both ears, and an immediately obvious sense of humor. He exuded a self-mocking jocularity, joking with the bear — who towered over him, dressed in a chainmail sash draped over her normal Tri-Galactic Navy uniform — about how she didn’t need to show off her strength by carrying around such a heavy accessory. Or maybe it was secretly a weapon that she’d wrap around him if he tried to run away?
The ursine officer did not seem amused and was clearly pleased to be dismissed as soon as Captain Carroway officially took over custody of the paroled cat.
“So, what’re the breaks?” Timothy Melbourne practically purred as he draped himself over the seat at the pilot’s station on the bridge. He was wearing a Tri-Galactic Navy uniform, which surprised Captain Carroway, but there was no rank pin on his collar, which surprised her less. “I’ve been smashing rocks with a pickaxe for months on a mining asteroid, and suddenly, I’m here. What can I do for you, oh Fluffy Savior?”
“You can start by referring to me as ‘Captain,’ Mr. Melbourne,” Carroway sniffed at the insubordinate young cat, subtly stressing the fact that he had no rank of his own.
“Can do, Captain,” Melbourne meowed, sitting up straighter in his seat, like he really did intend to do his best to impress this cat who had rescued him from hard labor, in spite of whatever his jocularity might have implied. Of course, he didn’t know what he’d been rescued for.
Captain Carroway could have simply melted into the floor and become a pile of loose, shed fur with nothing holding it together at that moment, realizing she couldn’t harden her heart against this cat — criminal or not — any more than she’d been able to harden it against Ensign Lee. Neither of them deserved what was coming. No one did. No one could. Being swallowed up by a burgeoning black hole wasn’t the kind of punishment one could earn, only be unlucky enough to stumble into.
For a second — no, not a whole second, only the barest fraction of a second — Captain Carroway pictured confessing the nature of their mission to her two junior officers and begging her tiny crew to mutiny with her, take this ship and run, see what kind of lives they could carve out for themselves as outlaws with a heavily armed top-of-the-line little ship.
But Vossie would never go for it. And Carroway didn’t know this impudent white cat or the driven little Papillon nearly well enough to want to spend her life tied to them like that.
And beneath it all, she didn’t want to betray her uniform. She believed in the Tri-Galactic Union, and this was what the union needed from her. She would do her duty. She would shoulder this weight.
At least, she wouldn’t have to shoulder it much longer.
With more bitterness than could be crammed into a year’s worth of coffee, Captain Carroway realized that this was the moment when she should give an inspiring speech to her crew before they disembarked. She wasn’t sure she could muster it. She took a sip of her now cold coffee, letting the taste — which was ashy in her mouth — bolster her as much as possible. Then with mug still in paw, she walked to the front of the bridge and stood in front of the viewscreen, which showed a lovely view of Nexus Nine Base in all its architectural complexity — triangles, hexagons, all tangled together in a beautiful pattern.
“Welcome to The Wanderlust,” Captain Carroway said. “We’re a small crew, and we have a simple mission today.” She cringed at her own choice of words, but they weren’t inaccurate. If the mission were more complex, perhaps there’d have been more hope for her and Vossie to find a way to survive it. “We’re going to defend the peace between the Tri-Galactic Union and Reptiss by delivering a crippling blow to the Anti-Ra, an illegal terrorist organization that’s been assaulting Reptassan colonies on the planet Lupinia. They’ve been hiding in the Dirt Cloud, a nebula in the neutral area between Tri-Galactic Union space and Reptassan space.”
“And you needed a crack pilot,” Mr. Melbourne meowed, looking troublingly ponderous, like he might see right through the veneer of this mission to its heart. He knew he wouldn’t be here if there weren’t something strange going on.
“Yes,” Captain Carroway agreed, hoping to sweep past the point quickly. “We needed the best pilot we could get our paws on, and my first officer, Lt. Cmdr. Vossie–” She gestured at the rabbit-like officer, seated at his post, still plugged into the mycelial computer. “–suggested you.”
Timothy Melbourne frowned. The somber expression on his ghostly white face provided a solemn contrast to his earlier joking demeanor. He was a very handsome young cat. That shouldn’t make any difference, but somehow, the handsomeness of his features highlighted his youth. He glowed the way that only the young can glow. In spite of working on a mining asteroid, incarcerated, for the last three years, he was still so young and untouched by the world. It was a crime that the potential for his life was being thrown away like this.
Captain Carroway turned away from Melbourne and faced Ensign Lee, which only made the feelings she was struggling with worse. The Papillon was a blameless young officer with a perfect, exemplary record. Her voice caught in her throat, coming out as a low rumble, when she said, “Ensign Lee, would you please contact the station and request permission to undock. It’s time we got underway.”
Ensign Lee nodded, his expression similarly solemn. He might not know the depth of what was wrong aboard this ship, but he could read the room. And no one aboard The Wanderlust was having an especially good day. At least, that was what Captain Carroway thought.
Once The Wanderlust was truly underway, it became clear that — regardless of his earlier thoughtful expression and clear perceptiveness — Timothy Melbourne was having a very good day. He was flying a ship again — the thing he’d been born to do, and something he hadn’t been allowed to do in three years. His paws were meant to steer the helm of a spaceship, racing between stars. He was a natural born pilot.
Captain Carroway was glad that someone was enjoying this death march. Even if she couldn’t enjoy the taste of her coffee — she’d gotten herself a second mug, fresh and hot, extra creamy — she couldn’t help smiling at Timothy Melbourne’s evident joy. The ghost white cat might have intuited that he was heading toward the gallows — trading incarceration for extinction — but he was the kind of feline who intended to relish every last bite of his final meal, metaphorically speaking.
To Lt. Cmdr. Vossie and Ensign Lee’s dismay, Timothy Melbourne kept up a constant patter as they flew toward their doom, asking questions about what had been happening in the universe outside his asteroid prison, sharing anecdotes about particularly amusing fellow prisoners, and just generally insisting on keeping some form of conversation alive. Captain Carroway found it kind of charming, and she didn’t mind the distraction. She didn’t want to be left alone with her thoughts. None of her thoughts were any good right now anyway. Everything between her fluffy ears was as dark and murky as the Dirt Cloud they were approaching.
Continue on to Chapter 6…