Redshirts

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Trust me, Andy,” Finn said, walking with Dahl toward Duvall’s barracks. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“You don’t know that,” Dahl said.

“I do know that,” Finn said.

“Yeah?” Dahl asked. “How?”

“When I saw her just after she came out of her briefing, she said to me, ‘If I see Andy, I swear to God I’m going to break his nose,’” Finn said. Dahl smiled.

The two of them reached Duvall’s barracks and entered the room, which was empty except for Duvall, sitting on her bunk.

“Maia,” Dahl began.

“Andy,” Duvall said, stood, and punched Dahl in the face. Dahl collapsed to the deck, holding his nose.

“I told you,” Finn said to Dahl, on the deck. He looked over to Duvall. “I did tell him.”

“I thought you were kidding!” Dahl said from the deck.

“Surprise,” Finn said.

Dahl pulled his hand back from his face to see if there was any blood on it; there wasn’t. “What was that for?” he asked Duvall.

“It’s for your conspiracy theories,” Duvall said.

“They’re not my theories,” Dahl said. “They’re Jenkins’ theories.”

“For Christ’s sake, it doesn’t matter who thought up the fucking things!” Duvall snapped. “I’m in that goddamned meeting today, telling them what I know about the Nantes, and all the time I’m doing that I’m thinking, ‘This is it, this is the episode where I die.’ And then I look over at Kerensky, and he’s making cow eyes at me, like we’re married instead of just screwing. And then I know I’m doomed, because if that son of a bitch has a crush on me, it makes it perfect if I get killed off. Because then he can be sad at the end of the episode.”

“It doesn’t have to work that way, Maia,” Dahl said, and started to get up. She pushed him back down.

“Shut up, Andy,” she said. “Just shut up. You’re not getting it. It doesn’t matter if it’s going to work that way. What matters is now I’m buying into your paranoia. Now some part of my brain is thinking about buying it on an away mission. It’s thinking about it all the time. It’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop. And you fucking did it to me. Thank you so very much.” Duvall sat down on her bunk, pissed.

“I’m sorry,” Dahl said, after a minute.

“Sorry,” Duvall said, and laughed a small laugh. “Jesus, Andy.”

“What went on in the officer briefing?” Finn asked.

“I briefed them about the Nantes and its crew,” Duvall said. “The Calendrian rebels have a spy or turncoat in the crew, someone who could hack into the weapons systems and fire on the pontifex’s ship, and then shut down communications. We’ve heard nothing from the Nantes since the attack.”

“Why would they put a spy on the Nantes?” Finn asked. “It was the Intrepid that was supposed to escort the pontifex’s ship.”

“They must have known the Nantes was the backup ship for this mission,” Duvall said. “And it’s easier to sneak a spy on the Nantes than on the flagship of the Universal Union. So they send a ship to attack us, knock us out of the mission, and then the Nantes is in a perfect position to take a shot at the pontifex’s ship. And that’s the other thing—” Duvall pointed at Dahl. “Because when we’re being told this in the briefing, I’m thinking ‘How far ahead would you have to plant a spy? How could they have known the Nantes would be the backup ship for a mission that was just assigned a couple of days ago? How likely is that?’ And then I think ‘This episode needs to be better edited.’” She looked down at Dahl. “And that’s when I decided I was going to punch you in the head the next time I saw you.”

“Jenkins did say he didn’t think the show was very good,” Dahl said.

Duvall cocked back her arm. “Don’t make me do it again, Andy,” she said.

“Is there an away team?” Finn asked.

“Yes,” Duvall said. “And I’m on it. The Nantes is silent and it isn’t moving, so the Intrepid has been ordered to investigate the situation on the Nantes and to defend the pontifex’s ship from any further attack. I was stationed on the Nantes and I was a ground trooper, so that makes me the guide for the away team. And I’m likely to get everyone on the team killed now, since thanks to Andy I’m convinced this is when it makes dramatic sense for me to get shot between the eyes.”

“When do we arrive?” Finn asked.

“About two hours,” Duvall said. “Why?”

Finn fished in his pocket and pulled out a small blue oblong pill. “Here, take this.”

Duvall peered at it. “What is it?”

“It’s a mood leveler made from the orynx plant,” Finn said. “It’s very mild.”

“I don’t need a mood leveler,” Duvall said. “I just need to smack Andy again.”

“You can do both,” Finn said. “Trust me, Maia. You’re a wreck right now, and you know it. And like you said, that’s going to put your away team at risk.”

“And taking a drug won’t?” Duvall said.

“Not this one,” Finn said. “Like I said, it’s very mild. You’ll hardly notice the effect. All you’ll notice is that you’ll unclench a little. Just enough to focus on your job and not on your state of mind. It won’t affect anything else. You’ll still be sharp and aware.” He held the pill closer to Duvall.

She peered at it again. “There’s lint on it,” she said.

Finn dusted the lint off. “There,” he said.

“All right,” Duvall said, taking the pill. “But if I start seeing talking lizards, I’m going to punch you.”

“Fair enough,” Finn said. “Should I get you some water?”

“I’m fine,” Duvall said, and dry swallowed. Then she leaned over and smacked Dahl across the face with an open palm slap.

“What was that one for?” Dahl asked.

“Finn said I could take the pill and slap you,” Duvall said, and then frowned. She looked up at Finn. “What was this pill made of?”

“The orynx plant,” Finn said.

“And its effects are mild,” Duvall said.

“Usually,” Finn said.

“Because I’ll tell you what, I’m getting some pretty strong effects all of a sudden,” Duvall said, and then slumped off her bunk. Dahl caught her before she collapsed onto the deck.

“What did you do?” Dahl asked Finn, struggling with Duvall’s unconscious body.

“Quite obviously, I knocked her out,” Finn said, walking over to assist Dahl.

“I thought you said that pill was very mild,” Dahl said.

“I lied,” Finn said, and took Duvall’s legs. The two of them maneuvered her back onto her bunk.

“How long is she going to be out?” Dahl asked

“A dose like that will knock out a good-sized man for about eight hours,” Finn said, “so she’ll probably be down for at least ten.”

“She’ll miss her away team,” Dahl said.

“Yes, she will. That’s the point,” Finn said, and then nodded down at Duvall. “Andy, you’ve got Duvall and our other friends so fucked up about this television thing that it’s messing with their heads. If you want to go down that road, that’s fine. I’m not going to stop you. But I want to make sure the rest of them see a counterargument in action.”

“By drugging Maia?” Dahl said.

“That’s the means to an end,” Finn said. “The end is making the point that even without Maia, the away team is going to go over to the Nantes and do their job. Life goes on even when Jenkins’ ‘Narrative’ is supposed to apply. Once Maia, Jimmy and Hester see that, maybe they’ll stop freaking out. And who knows? Maybe you’ll come to your senses, too.”

Dahl nodded to Duvall. “She’s still going to get in trouble for missing her mission,” he said. “That’s a court-martial offense. I’m not sure she’ll appreciate that.”

Finn smiled. “I like how you think I didn’t plan for that,” he said.

“And just how did you plan for that?” Dahl said.

“You’re about to find out,” Finn said. “Because you’re part of it.”

“Where’s Maia?” Kerensky asked.

“Who?” Finn said, innocently.

“Duvall,” Kerensky said somewhat impatiently. “She’s supposed to be on this away team.”

“Oh, her,” Finn said. “She’s been waylaid with Orynxian Dropsy. She’s out for a couple of days. Dahl here and I are replacing her on the team. Check your orders, sir.”

Kerensky looked at Finn appraisingly, then pulled out his phone and checked the away team order. After a moment he grunted and motioned them toward the shuttle. Finn and Dahl got on. Dahl didn’t know how Finn had forged the away team order and didn’t feel the need to ask too deeply about it.

Inside the shuttle were Captain Abernathy, Commander Q’eeng and an extraordinarily nervous-looking ensign whom Dahl had never seen before. The ensign had undoubtedly noted the presence of the three senior officers on the away team, had calculated his own odds of survival and didn’t like the result. Dahl smiled at the ensign as he sat down; the ensign looked away.

Several minutes later, with Kerensky at the controls, the shuttle was out of its bay and headed toward the Nantes.

“Some of you are late additions to this party,” Captain Abernathy said, nodding to Finn and Dahl, “so let me review the situation and our plan of attack. The Nantes has been out of communication since just before it attacked the pontifex’s ship. We think the Calendrian rebel spy was somehow able to take over some systems, cut off communications and fire on the pontifex, but afterward the crew must have been able to get back some control of the ship, otherwise the Nantes would have blown the pontifex out of the sky by now. Our job is to get onto the Nantes, ascertain the situation and if necessary assist in the capture of the rebel.”

“Do we have any information on who this rebel might be, sir?” Dahl heard himself ask, surprised to hear the sound of his own voice. Oh, shit, he thought.

“An excellent question, Ensign Dahl,” Q’eeng said. “Just before we left the Intrepid I requested a crew manifest for the Nantes. The crew of the ship has been stable for months, but there was a recent addition to its crew, a Crewman Jer Weston. He’s a primary person of interest.”

“Wait,” Finn said, interrupting the commander. “Did you say Jer Weston?”

“Yes,” Q’eeng said, irritated at being interrupted.

“Previously stationed on the Springfield?” Finn asked.

“That was his posting prior to the Nantes, yes,” Q’eeng said. “Why?”

“I know this guy,” Finn said. “I knew him on the Springfield.”

“My God, man,” Abernathy said, leaning forward to Finn. “Tell us about him.”

“There’s not much to say,” Finn said, looking at the captain and then Q’eeng. “He and I worked in the cargo hold together.”

“He was your friend?” Q’eeng asked.

“Friend might be a little much, sir,” Finn said. “Jer is a dick. ‘Friend’ isn’t part of his vocabulary. But I worked with him for more than a year. I spent time with him. He never seemed like a traitor.”

“If spies seemed like traitors they wouldn’t be good spies,” Q’eeng said.

“Finn, we need to know everything you know about Weston,” Abernathy said, intensely. “Anything we can use. Anything that can help us take back control of the Nantes before more Calendrian rebel ships converge on this sector. Because if they arrive before the Nantes is back in action, the Intrepid won’t be enough to keep the pontifex safe. And then it won’t just be the Calendrians fighting themselves. The whole galaxy will be at war.”

There was a long, tense second of silence.

“Uh, okay, sir,” Finn said, eventually.

“Great, thanks,” Abernathy said. His demeanor was suddenly more relaxed. “Wow. A last-minute replacement for this away team, and you just happen to know the crewman we think is the spy. That’s amazing. What are the odds of that?”

“Pretty big odds,” Finn said.

“I’ll say,” Abernathy said.

“Captain, before Crewman Finn briefs us on Weston, I want to discuss the layout of the Nantes with you,” Q’eeng said. He and Abernathy fell into a discussion.

Dahl turned to Finn. “You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Finn said.

“You’re sure,” Dahl said.

“Andy, quit it,” Finn said. “It’s a coincidence, is all it is. I’m going to get through this. You are going to get through this. We’re going to get back to the Intrepid, we’re going to get a drink, and then I’m going to go to Medical when Maia wakes up and kicks my ass. That’s my prediction. I’ll put money on it if you want.”

Dahl smiled. “Okay,” he said, and sat back. He looked over at Abernathy and Q’eeng, still in their conversation. Then he looked over to the other ensign. He was looking at Finn with an expression that Dahl couldn’t quite read.

After a moment, it came to him. The other ensign looked relieved.

And he looked guilty about it.