J Mauldin - Final Solution

“Yes, sir,” I said, turning to leave, then paused. “Sir. One question, unrelated.”

“Hmm?” XO kept his eyes fixed on his interface.

“Enela would like to send a message to his family, checking up, that’s all. Is that something we can do for him?”

“I can’t break the ban for everyone who wants to phone home. Not even for myself.” I couldn’t be for sure, but I thought I heard his voice quaver at the end.

The Captain cleared his throat. “Is he clean, Goddard?”

I nodded, catching his meaning, and hoping no one else had. I was positive Enela wasn’t the target. He was clean.

“Stone, let’s make an exception. But, Goddard, be sure to tell Enela it will be a long time before he gets to speak with them again. Don’t let word of this get around. Understood?”

I straightened my back and saluted the Captain. “Understood. Thank you, sir. I am sure he appreciates it.”

The Captain lazily returned the salute and dismissed me from the bridge.

I now had two additional crewmembers at my disposal, an army of three to keep our Coke can drifting ahead and alive. This was a good place to be, a place that was right where I was at. Too bad it didn’t come with an increase in pay. Master Engineer C2, now that would be a bump in rank, and a twenty percent jump in pay. Here’s hoping for better instead of focusing on the bad. Maybe if Liberty stuck around, I would too. I grinned at that.

“Damn it. Fuck,” I heard echoing down the hall from in the Cargo Bay. Crashing noises followed. I entered the section to find Kelly bent over a black plastic crate, trying his best to unclip its sides without getting any cooperation. As he pulled harder, a portrait style tablet fell from his pocket onto the floor, cracking the corner of the screen despite an external case.

I bent over and picked it up, handing the cracked tablet back to him. “Tough break on the screen. We don’t have replacements. Sorry. I’m shocked you have one so old which still works. Now, if it was a 675, we could swap the broken screen without any issue. I’ve got spares to burn.”

Kelly snatched it from my hand and slid it in his pocket protectively. “I’m sorry. I mean, thanks, sir. I just… Never mind.”

“No problem. Having trouble?”

He pulled harder on the clips, nearly snapping his long pinky nail, and the crate still wouldn’t open. “A little.”

“Have you turned off the pressure locks?” I asked, sounding just a little smug. So sue me, I liked being the smart one at times.

Kelly spun around and glared at me, then proceeded to bang his forehead gently against the crate. “So, stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Hey, hey, don’t hurt the goods.” I reached down and pressed the button on the side of the box. A small hiss came out the top. “They have to keep these vacuum sealed and locked, otherwise, our dinner will taste even worse than it already does.”

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit.”

“Got something on your mind, Kelly? You look a bit wound up.”

“No, sir. I’m fine, just fucking fine!”

“Alright then.” But I wouldn’t let this lie. I was his superior now, and I had to be on the lookout for any crew changes. This was as good a place as any to continue the questions.

He began to unpack the box, taking several handled sacks of snow-like powder from it. More fuel for the food dispensing hoppers. I glanced at several nearby crates, wondering what the newer boxes with the keypad locks had in them. Private food stashes? Liquor? Medicine? Maybe vintage porn? All the good stuff.

Kelly let out a long sigh. “Sir, do you ever feel isolated? Like you’re all alone out here and no one gives a damn?”

I piped up. “More than I’d like to admit.” I began rubbing the gasket on my right ring finger. “I notice you haven’t been spending much time with the rest of the crew. Not making any friends yet?”

“I thought this was a warship, sir.” His expression hardened, but in a forced manner. He began scratching his forehead with his extra-long nail, making me cringe. “Why would I need to make friends?”

“We all need friends, even in war. Especially in war.” I crouched down to rest on my knees. “But, if you’re like me, making friends comes hard.”

“Yeah, I’m like you,” he chuckled. “So far, eh, there’s Griffin I can talk to, we shipped in on the same transport, and, well, Enela’s alright, I guess.”

“Alright? Enela gets along with just about anyone.”

“Maybe,” Kelly said, scratching the nape of his neck. “I just think we have different goals.”

“Different goals? What do you mean?”

“I, well—I don’t know… I mean, when it comes to… Never mind, forget it. Just forget I said anything.”

But I knew what he meant. Griffin. Pretty, pretty Griffin. There had been a behind the scenes competition between César and him. No shock there.

I needed to change the topic, and this was as good a time as any to get the most serious question out of the way. I just had to be careful not to reveal anything crucial.

Kelly glared at me, his hands close to making fists. He rolled his shoulders and began sucking in air.

“Why’d you join up?” I ventured. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

He melted onto the floor and stared off at nothing, back resting against a black cargo crate. “I lost family in the conflict at Ceres. 2059.”

“Ahh, I see. Remember Ceres. ” I put a fist in the air out of respect. Kelly didn’t seem amused. “A lot of people lost families that day, but even more so, we lost our sense of security. I don’t remember being scared of anything till that happened. We were safe on Mars, no one would ever attack us. What were they like?”

“My family?” He cocked his head, confused.

“Yeah, man. Your family.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and spoke, “I had a mom and two brothers. Mom was in her fifties, liked to sew and make things almost to the point of being addicted. Our home was a wreck with needles and threads and hot glue and fabric. Lovely junk everywhere.”

“Real creative, huh?”

“An artist of her day, that’s for sure.” He opened his eyes. “Liked anything dark and mysterious she could make or be part of. She was pretty too, and fun, and kind to anyone she met. Give you the shirt right off her back, only asking for enough in return to keep her decent.”

“You’re lucky to have had her.”

He smiled. “I am. And she’s not gone, just in here.” He thumped his chest with a fist. “My brothers, though, that’s another story. Me and my oldest, Trey, we never got along. He was a warmonger before there was ever even a war. He loved to pick fights and get in trouble; maybe that’s because dad was ex-military and died in the Oil Wars when we were both young.”

“Wow, Earth born military legacy. Don’t hear that much anymore.”

“No, you don’t.” He sighed. “I hate to say it, but I’m glad he’s dead, Trey, not Dad. He was crazy and would have hurt someone one day. I was always afraid he’d hurt mom. Enough of that asshole.”

“What about your other brother?”

“Now Greg and I were tight.” This thought conjured a grin. “He taught me everything I know about computers, and was damn good at it. If he hadn’t been killed in the attack, he would have written the next big Sage based OS, I guarantee it. We used to make games all the time, trying to one up each other without using any complex graphics engines. Most of the games were crap, but they were creative. He made one that was a six dimension puzzle game where sounds and light had to be mixed with speed and shape in certain patterns. It was hard as hell.”

“Sounds like fun. Wish I could do that, but I’m shit with code.”