John Scalzi - Redshirts

Jenkins shook his head. “Nothing’s impossible,” he said. “But some things are pretty damned unlikely. This is one of them.”

“How unlikely?” Dahl asked.

“In all my research there’s only one spaceship I’ve found that has even remotely the same sort of statistical patterns for away missions,” Jenkins said. He rummaged through the graphic elements again, and then threw one onto the screen. They all stared at it.

Duvall frowned. “I don’t recognize this ship,” she said. “And I thought I knew every type of ship we had. Is this a Dub U ship?”

“Not exactly,” Jenkins said. “It’s from the United Federation of Planets.”

Duvall blinked and focused her attention back at Jenkins. “Who are they?” she asked.

“They don’t exist,” Jenkins said, and pointed back at the ship. “And neither does this. This is the starship Enterprise . It’s fictional. It was on a science fictional drama series. And so are we.”

“Okay,” Finn said, after a moment. “I don’t know about anyone else here, but I’m ready to label this guy officially completely fucking insane .”

Jenkins looked over to Dahl. “I told you it would sound insane,” he said. He waved at the display. “But here are the stats.”

“The stats show that there’s something screwed up with this ship,” Finn said. “It doesn’t suggest we’re stars in a fucked-up science fiction show.”

“I never said you were the stars, ” Jenkins said. He pointed at the floating images of Abernathy, Q’eeng, Kerensky, West and Hartnell. “ They’re the stars. You’re extras.”

“Perfect,” Finn said, and stood up. “Thank you so much for wasting my time. I’m going to get some sleep now.”

“Wait,” Dahl said.

“‘Wait’? Seriously, Andy?” Finn said. “I know you’ve been obsessed with this for a while now, but there’s being on the edge and then there’s going all the way over the edge, and our hairy friend here is so far over the edge that the edge doesn’t even know him anymore.”

“You know how I hate to agree with Finn,” Hester said. “But I do. This isn’t right. It’s not even wrong.”

Dahl looked at Duvall. “I’m voting for nuts, too, Andy,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Jimmy?” Dahl asked, looking at Hanson.

“Well, he’s definitely nuts,” Hanson said. “But he thinks he’s telling the truth.”

“Of course he does! That’s why he’s nuts, ” Finn said.

“That’s not what I mean,” Hanson said. “When you’re nuts, your reasoning is consistent with your own internal logic, but it’s internal logic, which doesn’t make any sort of sense outside your own head.” He pointed at Jenkins. “His logic is external and reasonable enough.”

“Except the part where we’re all fictional,” Finn sneered.

“I never said that,” Jenkins said.

“Gaaah,” Finn said, and pointed to the Enterprise . “ Fictional, you unmitigated asshole.”

“ It’s fictional,” Jenkins said. “ You’re real. But a fictional television show intrudes on our reality and warps it.”

“Wait,” Finn said, waving his hands in disbelief. “ Television? Are you fucking kidding me? There hasn’t been television in hundreds of years.”

“Television got its start in 1928,” Jenkins said. “The last use of the medium for entertainment purposes was in 2105. Sometime between those two dates there’s a television series following the adventures of the crew of the Intrepid .”

“I really want to know what you’re smoking,” Finn said. “Because whatever it is, I’m betting I can make a hell of a profit on it.”

Jenkins looked back at Dahl again. “I can’t work like this,” he said.

“Everyone shut up for a minute,” Dahl said. Finn and Jenkins calmed themselves. “Look. I agree it sounds crazy. Even he admits it sounds crazy.” Dahl pointed at Jenkins. “But think about what we’ve seen go on in this ship. Think of how people act here. What’s messed up here isn’t that this guy thinks we’re on a television show. What’s messed up here is that as far as I can tell, at this point, it’s the most rational explanation for what’s going on. Tell me that I’m wrong.”

Dahl looked around at his friends. Everyone was silent. Finn looked like he was barely holding his tongue.

“Right,” Dahl said. “So at least let’s hear the rest of what he has to say. Maybe it gets more nuts from here. Maybe it starts to make more sense. Either way, it’s better than what we have now, which is nothing.”

“Fine,” Finn said, finally. “But you owe us all handjobs.” He sat back down.

“Handjobs?” Jenkins asked Dahl.

“Long story,” Dahl said.

“Well, anyway,” Jenkins said. “You’re right about one thing. It’s messed up that the most rational explanation for what does go on in this ship is that a television show intrudes on our reality and warps it. But that’s not the worst thing about it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Finn said. “If that’s not the worst thing, what is?”

“That as far as I can tell,” Jenkins said, “it’s not actually a very good show.”

“Red alert!” said Captain Abernathy, as the Calendrian rebel ship fired its torpedoes at the Intrepid . “Evasive maneuvers! Now!” Dahl, standing at his science post on the bridge, positioned his feet for stability as the ship yawed widely, moving its bulk to avoid the nimble guided projectiles headed for it.

You’ll notice that the Intrepid ’s inertial dampeners don’t work as well in crisis situations, Dahl remembered Jenkins telling them. The ship could do hairpin turns and loop-de-loops any other time and you’d never notice. But whenever there’s a dramatic event, there goes your footing .

“They’re still coming right at us!” yelled Ensign Jacobs, at the weapons station, tracking the torpedoes.

Abernathy pounded the button on his chair that opened a broadcast channel. “All hands! Brace for impact!”

Dahl and everyone else on the bridge grabbed on to their stations and braced themselves. This would be a good time for a restraint system, Dahl thought.

There was a far crump as the torpedoes hit the Intrepid . The bridge deck swayed from the impact.

“Damage report!” barked Abernathy.

Decks six through twelve will almost always sustain damages during an attack, Jenkins had said . It’s because these are the decks the show has sets for. They can cut away from the bridge for shots of explosions and crew being flung backward .

“Decks six, seven and nine have sustained heavy damages,” Q’eeng said. “Decks eight and ten have moderate damage.”

“More torpedoes!” cried Jacobs. “Four of them!”

“Countermeasures!” yelled Abernathy. “Fire!”

Why didn’t you use countermeasures in the first place? Dahl thought.

In his head, Jenkins answered. Every battle is designed for maximum drama, he said. This is what happens when the Narrative takes over. Things quit making sense. The laws of physics take a coffee break. People stop thinking logically and start thinking dramatically .

“The Narrative”—Jenkins’ term for when the television show crept into their lives, swept away rationality and physical laws and made people know, do and say things they wouldn’t otherwise. You’ve had it happen to you already, Jenkins had said. A fact you didn’t know before just pops into your head. You make a decision or take an action you wouldn’t otherwise make. It’s like an irresistible impulse because it is an irresistible impulse—your will isn’t your own, you’re just a pawn for a writer to move around .