John Scalzi - Redshirts

“Where are you going?” Duvall asked.

“Leave me alone, Maia,” Dahl said. Duvall stopped in her tracks. Dahl left her behind.

In fact Dahl had no idea where he was going; he was burning off frustration and anger, and being on the move was the closest thing the jam-packed Intrepid offered to being alone.

This was why, when the crew presence finally thinned and Dahl felt the fatigue his disused muscles had been trying to alert him about, he was surprised to find himself outside the cargo tunnel door closest to Jenkins’ secret hideaway.

He stood outside the door for a long minute, remembering the plan to sneak up on Jenkins as a team and find out what he knew.

“Fuck it,” he said. He smacked the access panel to open the corridor door.

A yeti was standing directly on the other side. It grabbed him and pulled him into the corridor. Dahl yelled in surprise but was too weak to resist. He stumbled into the corridor. The yeti, whom Dahl now recognized as Jenkins, closed the door behind them.

“Stop yelling,” Jenkins said, and stuck a finger in his ear, twisting it. “Jesus, that’s annoying.”

Dahl looked at the closed door and then back at Jenkins. “How did you do that?” he asked. “How did you know?”

“Because I am a student of the human condition,” Jenkins said. “And as humans go, you’re pretty predictable. And because I have you under constant surveillance through your phone, you dumbass.”

“So you know—”

“About your overly complicated plan to sneak up on me, yes,” Jenkins said. “Your friend Finn gets partial credit for the cart ID thing. What he doesn’t know is that when decommissioned cart IDs get scanned, I get an immediate alert. He’s not the first person to think of that to access these corridors. And you’re not the first person to try to find me.”

“I’m not,” Dahl said.

Jenkins snapped his fingers, as if to focus Dahl’s attention. “What did I just say? Redundant conversation isn’t going to do us any good.”

“Sorry,” Dahl said. “Let me try again. Others have tried to find you and failed.”

“That’s right,” Jenkins said. “I don’t want to be found, and those who use my services don’t want me to be found either. Between us we managed to avoid anyone I don’t want to see.”

“So you want to see me,” Dahl said, carefully.

“It’s more accurate to say you want to see me, and I’m willing to let myself be seen by you,” Jenkins said.

“Why me?” Dahl asked.

“You just got assigned to the bridge,” Jenkins said.

“I did,” Dahl said. “And I remember you telling me very specifically to stay off the bridge.”

“And that’s why you came looking for me,” Jenkins said. “Even though it would ruin the plan you made with your friends.”

“Yes,” Dahl said.

“Why?” Jenkins asked.

“I don’t know,” Dahl said. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Wrong,” Jenkins said. “You were thinking clearly, but you weren’t thinking consciously. Now think about it consciously, and tell me why. But hurry. I’m feeling exposed here.”

“Because you know why, ” Dahl said. “Everyone else in the Intrepid knows something’s fucked up about this ship. They’ve got their ways to avoid getting sucked into it. But they don’t know why . You do.”

“Maybe I do,” Jenkins said. “But why would it matter?”

“Because if you don’t know why something is the way it is, then you don’t know anything about it at all,” Dahl said. “All the tricks and superstitions aren’t going to do a damn bit of good if you don’t know the reason for them. The conditions could change and then you’re screwed.”

“That’s all very blandly logical,” Jenkins said. “It doesn’t explain why you decided to track me down now.”

“Because someone’s actively trying to kill me now,” Dahl said. “Collins got me assigned to the bridge because she’s decided she wants me dead.”

“Yes, death by away team. Very effective on this ship,” Jenkins said.

“I’m on the bridge tomorrow,” Dahl said. “After that, it’s not a matter of if I get killed, it’s when. I’m out of time. I need to know now .”

“So you can avoid dying,” Jenkins said.

“It would be nice,” Dahl said.

“Collins wants to avoid death and you just called her a coward for it,” Jenkins said.

“That’s not why she’s a coward,” Dahl said.

“No, I suppose not,” Jenkins said.

“If I can understand why, maybe I can keep myself from getting killed, and maybe I can keep others from being killed too,” Dahl said. “I have people I care about here. I’d like to see them live.”

“Well, then,” Jenkins said. “Let me ask you one more question, Dahl. What if I tell you what I think, and it sounds insane to you?”

“Is that what happened?” Dahl asked. “Collins and Trin. You worked for them. You told them you had a theory. They heard it and they didn’t believe it.”

Jenkins chuckled at that. “I said insane, not unbelievable,” he said. “And I think Collins, for one, believes it just fine.”

“How do you know?” Dahl asked.

“Because it’s what’s made her a coward,” Jenkins said, then looked at Dahl appraisingly. “But maybe not you. No, maybe not at all. And maybe not your friends. So gather them up, Ensign Dahl. Meet me in my hidey-hole tonight. Same time you were going to invade. I’ll see you then.” He turned to go.

“May I ask you a question?” Dahl asked.

“You mean, besides that one?” Jenkins asked.

“Two, actually,” Dahl said. “Cassaway said they got on that away mission because you didn’t tell them Q’eeng was coming to see them. He said it was retaliation for me trying to find out about you. Was it?”

“No,” Jenkins said. “I didn’t tell them Q’eeng was on the way because at the time I was taking a dump. I can’t watch everything all the time. What’s your second question?”

“You told me to stay off the bridge,” Dahl said. “Me and Finn. Why did you do that?”

“Well, I told your friend Finn because he just happened to be there, and I didn’t think it would hurt, even if he’s a bit of an asshole,” Jenkins said. “But as for you, well. Let’s just say I have a special interest in the Xenobiology Lab. Call it a sentimental attachment. And let’s also just say I guessed that your response to what happens here on the Intrepid would go beyond the usual fear response. So I figured offering you a warning and piece of advice in person couldn’t hurt.”

Jenkins moved his hand as if to say, See . “And look where we are now. At the very least you’re still alive. So far.” He reached over to the access panel and slapped open the door to return Dahl to the Intrepid . Then he walked off.

“Come on, ” Jenkins said, and pounded on the display table. Above the table, a holographic image flickered and then died. Jenkins pounded the table again. Dahl looked over to Duvall, who with Hanson, Finn and Hester was jammed into Jenkins’ tiny living space. She rolled her eyes.

“Sorry,” Jenkins muttered, ostensibly to the five crewmen jammed into his living space, but mostly to himself. “I get equipment when everyone else throws it out. The carts bring it to me. Then I have to repair it. It’s a little buggy sometimes.”

“It’s all right,” Dahl said. His eyes took a visual tour of his surroundings. Along with Jenkins and the five of them, the delivery cart storage area was jammed with Jenkins’ possessions: the large holographic table, situated between him and the five crew members, a thin cot, a small wardrobe with boxes of hygienic wash wipes piled on it, a pallet of Universal Union away team rations and a portable toilet. Dahl wondered how the toilet was emptied and serviced. He wasn’t sure that he really wanted to know.