Supernova (11 page)

“A few
years ago, the shipbuilders on Earth decided to test out a synthetic fuel based
on petroleum,” he continued. “It was one of the resources depleted hundreds of
years ago.”

“Gas,”
Lily interpreted. “Oil. It fueled my car. Wars were fought over it in my time.”

“A
compound similar to petroleum that could be created in a lab was found on
Darcan-2,” Admiral Betner interjected. “Teams were sent out to clean up the
remains and harvest the compound. What they came up with was an unusable fuel
that was expensive, difficult to produce in large quantities and potentially
unsafe for space travel. But they also found you, perfectly preserved and
uncontaminated, which we know now happened because you weren’t interred with
Earth techniques.”

“I also
wasn’t dead.”

“That,
too. Your coffin was donated to the historical society, and you were set up as
a twenty-first-century Earthling exhibit.”

Lily
temporarily pushed aside the knowledge that she had been part of a sci-fi freak
show to absorb this new information. Earth really ran out of oil. Once again,
the hippies had been right.

“If I’ve
been an exhibit for three years, wouldn’t people remember me?” she asked. “Someone’s
going to put two and two together.”

“We’ve
looked at that possibility,” a woman piped up. “The artifacts were loaned out
in rotation. You were actually displayed only four times, for a week each time.
The historical society was concerned about toxicity if you were moved
incorrectly. If anyone looks into it, the official answer is your remains
decomposed.” Lily made a face.

“As to
who left you on Darcan-2, we’re working on that,” Kentz said. “Earth still has
documentation, albeit limited, on the identities of those interred there. There
isn’t a record of a Lily Stewart.” Catching the incredulous look on Lily’s
face, he quickly added, “There aren’t a lot of records, anyway. You’ve got to
understand, this was almost a thousand years ago.”

“I know,”
Lily agreed. “I’m surprised that anything exists, actually. It was like that at
home, whenever a field was dug up and they discovered an ancient burial ground.”
She sighed. “I know it’s a long shot, but did you find out what happened to
Lazarus Cryonics?”

Kentz
shook his head.

“We’re
working on the theory that you weren’t on Darcan-2 for long in the traditional
sense,” he continued. “If the Nym are using time travel, they may have dropped
you off there three years ago. As we’ve said, we’re unsure about this new
technology.”

It
sounded like a plausible theory, but Lily really wanted to know what had
happened to the lab. Any media coverage on a small cryonics facility on the
outskirts of Toronto was long gone. So was Toronto, for that matter. Lily’s
research into Earth revealed that the only populated area was what had once
been the North Pole for its more habitable climate, which was downright
tropical in the summer.

Kentz
interrupted her musings. “In light of the Nym activity, we would prefer to keep
you in Fleet custody,” he said.

Lily
nodded. “Captain Marska told me as much. But what do you mean by ‘prefer’?”

“It
means you’re a free citizen of Commons space,” Rian explained. “Technically,
you can’t be forced into doing anything. You’re not a criminal; you were in the
wrong place at the wrong time. You’re free to travel through the galaxy when
Fleet establishes an identity for you.” He caught her questioning look.

“Commander
Marska,” snapped Kentz. He turned to Lily. “We can provide identification for
you. While the Nym is our biggest concern, the media is a close second. We’ve
done everything in our power to prevent them from knowing about you, but the
story got out. We’re still conducting an investigation.” Almost simultaneously,
every face around the table looked disgruntled at this betrayal. “Fleet is
going to operate on schedule as though nothing has happened to deflect this
incident as long as possible, and that means the
Defiant
is leaving when
her repairs and upgrades are completed. Ordinarily we don’t permit civilians on
patrol ships, but Commander Marska has pointed out that you’re getting settled
there, and we’re offering you the choice between staying on board the
Defiant
for the time being, where it will set a course for Kevnar Station over the
coming weeks and you will be settled there, or immediate custody at the base
here. The
Defiant
will be transporting a science team en route to
Kevnar.”

“What’s
waiting for me at Kevnar Station?”

“We feel
it prudent to keep you under Fleet protection indefinitely, and think it best
if you were trained for a career,” Kentz said.

“What
will I do here?”

“Work
and re-establish yourself. There’s a very large non-military community here.”

“I hate
to break it to you, but there’s not a lot I can do,” Lily said. “I have a
history degree that’s even more useless here than it was at home, and I doubt
my work experience is relevant.”

“What
did you do?” He sat back in his chair and tented his fingertips again.

Was it
just Lily, or did the guy actually seem interested? “I was the business manager
at my family’s tree farm when I finished school,” she said. “I ran it until my
father died. Then I worked as a receptionist at Lazarus, which I already told
you about. I was planning on going into teaching.”

“Unfortunately,
teaching isn’t an option,” the admiral said.

“I
gathered that, and I’m still getting used to all the touchscreens and
voice-activated everything. What about something in research?”

“We were
thinking along the lines of an assistant position,” Kentz continued. “We have a
list of Fleet-oriented careers that you can pick up and study for at your own
time and pace, and you can be placed on a station. Commander Marska has
suggested pharmacy and library assistant positions, although the library
assistant would require quite a bit more study, a degree at the academy and
more practical training given your lack of familiarity with current technology.”

“What
about the pharmacy job?”

“Most
pharm-techs study via correspondence. Many go on to a career as a pharmacist or
nurse, but that’s getting ahead of ourselves.”

And
probably impossible for Lily, but a pharmacy job was within her capabilities. “That
doesn’t sound too bad,” she said. “What would I do?”

“Pharmacy
dispensation and basic first aid.”

It was
better than leeching off Fleet, stuck on a station and reading serial novels
for the rest of her life. “Okay,” said Lily. “How do I sign up?”

“Commander
Marska will direct someone to help you with that,” the admiral said. He stood
up. Everyone around the table followed suit, and Lily quickly rose to her feet.
“Dismissed.”

Rian led
her out of the conference room. “What now?” she whispered.

“I’m
sure we’ll be called back eventually,” he said. “I definitely will be.” The
admirals and senior captains filed past. “They’ll want to know your plans
shortly.”

“What
plans? I told them I’ll be a pharmacy clerk and I’d rather stay—” She caught
herself before she could say “with you.” “—on the
Defiant
,” she
finished.

Was that
a hint of a smile on his face? “That’s definitely safer,” he said.

“No
kidding. Admiral Kentz looks like he’d be pissed off if I asked him how use a
replicator.” They left the corridor and stood at a bank of elevators. “Now
where?”

“Barracks
have been assigned to the
Defiant
on deck D-4.”

“Wherever
that is. I got called into the meeting before Taz and Mora could show me. Lead
the way.”

It was a
quick trip to the barracks, and Rian showed her to the simple room she had been
assigned. His was down the corridor. A few crew members milled around, some in
civvies, waiting for others to begin their brief liberty.

There
was nothing in Lily’s room to keep her occupied, not even a TV—
vidscreen
,
she corrected herself—and she had no idea where to find her new friends. Rian
had disappeared into his room, telling her he had some reports to read and
would find her later. She let herself bask in that knowledge for a few minutes.
He seemed like a good person; she just wished he’d loosen up a little. He didn’t
have to be a captain
all
the time. In all this, she had found a few
bright spots, and he was one of them.

She didn’t
have to ask his permission to prowl around the station. She was a Commons
citizen now. What she was looking for was—what? Hunkering down in a booth at a
pub with him, discovering what made the acting captain tick?

Yes, and
more, she realized, and she wasn’t likely to get it.

How lost
could she possibly get on a station, anyway? She fingered the credit card in
her pocket, issued to her on the ship a few hours ago. It didn’t look like any
credit card she had seen before, a little black square thing with a digital
face like a clock’s and an inset pad that read her thumbprint. It was made of
something metallic and lacked a name or signature strip. The credit card of the
future. She didn’t know what a thousand credits could buy and, she thought
ruefully, had no idea of its value to dollars.

There
was only one way to find out. She left her room and found herself face-to-face
with Mora, who had changed out of her uniform into something sparkly and
low-cut, and Taz, who wore his Fleet-issue pants and had changed his shirt for
a black pullover. “Hey!” he said. “We were looking for you. The admirals let
you go already?”

“Yeah.”
Lily rolled her eyes.

“That’s
what I thought,” Mora said. “Ready to hit Rubidge?”

Rian
strode out of his room and saw them. Lily waved. “Forget something?” she asked.

“I just
got called to the repair bay,” he said. “The engineers want to tell me what’s
wrong with the aft shields.”

“They
want your input on the shitbox?” Taz said. Mora winced before Rian could scowl.

“Watch
your language, Ensign.”

“Sir,
are we finally moving to better things,
sir
? Is the
Defiant
finally going to the scrap heap?”

“No, she’s
being repaired, Ensign.” He nodded at Mora and Lily. “Nurse, Miss Stewart.” He
headed off down the corridor.

“See you
later, Captain,” Lily called.

Chapter 7

Yes,
Lily could definitely get lost on Rubidge Station. Its commercial sector was a
shopping mall on Christmas Eve crossed with Pearson Airport. She was glad she
hadn’t ventured out on her own; it would have taken a Fleet search party to
find her.

Taz and
Mora traded barbs back and forth as Lily looked around in awe. The lack of
overhead lighting made it feel like nighttime on a carnival midway. Light
spilled from the shops’ doorways and tiny lights strung around poles and tables
at restaurant patios—could they be called patios when they weren’t actually
outside?—and flashing advertisements and neon signs. Music blared from every
other storefront and pub, and they passed by a large aquarium built into the
floor that housed what looked like a small shark, except it was glowing and
purple. Barkers enticed the passersby to try their hand at what appeared to be
ring toss, but the rings were bright electric loops that shimmered and
disappeared when Lily saw a kid playing, and there were stands loaded with
exotic food, perfume, scarves, vids...She was getting dizzy.

She didn’t
know she had stopped and was looking in all directions until Mora took her arm.
“Come on,” she said.

“Just a
minute.”

Mora and
Taz waited while Lily tried to digest everything around her. “Wow,” she
squeaked. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Drinking!”
Taz said automatically.

“Gods,”
Mora sighed, exasperated. “Later. We’re going shopping.”

Lily
didn’t have the faintest idea where to start. “Okay,” she said. A vendor
gestured to her and pointed to stacks of shimmering blankets. Lily smiled and
mouthed
No, thank you
. The vendor discreetly flipped her off. Some
things
had
stayed alive over the ages.

“I’ll be
at the Flare when you’re done,” Taz told them.

Lily
thought he would be waiting awhile. Shopping for clothes wasn’t her favorite
thing to do under the best of circumstances; she tended to it in big bursts
when she was down to three pairs of socks without holes. She never understood
women who could comfortably max out a credit card in an afternoon.

“Lead
the way,” she told Mora.

The
nurse grinned. “How did you shop at home?”

“Oh, go
somewhere, try on a bunch of stuff, force yourself not to cry when you see how
you look in the dressing room mirror,” Lily said. “That
is
what we’re
doing, right?”

Mora
laughed and led her into a well-lit boutique. It was quieter in there, although
no less crowded. “Not quite,” she said. “What do you mean by trying on clothes
anyway?” She stopped at a row of headless mannequins and fingered the fabric on
a short skirt Lily never would have dared to wear.