Dark Vengeance (3 page)

“I’m beginning to think this may not have been such a bad idea after all,” remarked R.J.

“Fantasia, what is the ship called?” I asked.

Without slowing her pace she answered, “This is the Star-Seven. We are quite proud of our ship.”

“That’s kind of an unusual name for a ship, isn’t it?”

“We service many ports, Captain. And even though we deal mainly with humanoid life forms as I’m sure you know, many species employ language that does not translate easily. Also many of them are unable to voice some of the phonetics of other civilizations. For that reason, we have found that base numbers and simple astronomical terms are quite common among advanced civilizations, so those terms are used to make communication easier during passage through other sectors.”

“Fantasia, how many other guests are on board?”

“This area ahead houses the guest staterooms,” replied Fantasia.

We entered a smaller corridor with brown metal slats on the walls from waist high to the floor. The floor became a glossy matching brown with white borders running along the sides. The upper portions of the walls were map displays and various camera views of the ship, inside and out. Every thirty feet or so, an array of lights in the ceiling called attention to a sliding metal stateroom door.

Fantasia stopped at one of them and turned to us. “This is your stateroom, Commander.” She stepped closer to the door and it slid silently open. “It will open only for you or whoever you give authority to.” She led us inside.

The room was as exotic and lavish as everything else. At the far end, there was a cubicle with curtained windows beaming simulated sunlight. An assortment of snow-white furnishings filled the place. There was a bar on the left, and on the opposite wall a large doorway open to a bathroom with a giant tub and glass enclosed shower. There was no bed and no sleeping area at all.

Before we could ask, Fantasia spoke. “The small office area you see over there is your guest information center. It is most important you visit that soon. It will answer your question, Commander, about how many guests are on board and will provide you with the necessary social constraints associated with each so that no guest interferes inappropriately with any other. Any questions you have can be answered at your information center. Most of the furnishings you see around you consist of holomatter. You may change the interior of your room in any way you please. You may also select any furnishings you wish. There is a simple button on the console desktop that is labeled, “evening.” By pressing it the room will automatically switch to the interior layout for sleep mode. Captain, you have the adjoining stateroom. There is no connecting doorway, but you may program one on the guest information center if you wish. You must both make that request before the passageway will appear. All of the facilities in your room will respond only to you unless you instruct the information center to include someone else. Even your desk drawers will not open except for you. Also, please consult your information center for the ship’s layout so that you know which areas are off limits and which are not. Room service is dispensed by the various alcoves in your stateroom walls. If you require anything larger than they can accommodate, it will be delivered to your door. I suggest you refrain from asking any further questions until you have visited your information centers. Captain, your room is similar to this one. I trust you can guide yourself there.”

“Thank you very much, Fantasia,” said R.J.

I nodded to her in agreement.

The little bellhops placed our bags on the floor and followed Fantasia out. The door slid closed behind her.

“Two weeks in Avalon?” said R.J.

“Apparently,” I replied. “I guess we should both consult our guest information centers with due haste so as not to get off on a bad foot.”

“Yes, if Fantasia suggests it, it must be so.”

My own stateroom had an unexpectedly pleasant and peaceful air of privacy to it. At the guest information center I took a moment to find a country style of interior complete with fireplace, rugs, and overstuffed couches and chairs. One click of the enter button and I was instantly surrounded by it, fireplace already burning. Being the spacecraft fanatic I am, I went next to the Star-Seven description. There was a very nice layout diagram showing operations offices along with crew quarters and the med lab located forward past the grand gallery. Above those, the flight deck required an elevator platform for access. Aft of the grand gallery, general concourse, and guest staterooms were the engineering offices and operations areas.

The diagrams were deliberately evasive about technical information. They did show four internal engine nacelles, somehow well shielded from any habitat areas. The information provided no performance data at all, except for a small paragraph or two on how quickly Star-Seven could deliver its passengers to their destinations. A little bit of math on the side gave me rough performance specs that fit stellar drive engines quite nicely. I was more than familiar with that breed of engine. Having squeezed all the performance data I could out of the ship descriptions, I went on to the crew contingent.

Numerous service personnel from Enuro were housed in a special section of the crew compartment forward. No personal information was provided about them except their names were listed alphabetically. Most names had only 3 letters. They ran from Bam to Zor. Some of them had special training with the more exotic alien species. There was an associate for Fantasia whose name was Elachia. Both originated from an artificial orbiting planetary satellite in the Antares region. Beyond that, very little info was given. We were graced by three pilot engineers and a dozen engineering maintenance personnel. The crew quarters, flight deck, and engineering sections were expressly off limits to guests. All in all, it seemed like quite a well run organization.

The guidelines addressing guests were at times arcane. Fantasia should have warned us. There were only eight other guests. Star Seven was finishing up returning delegates from a convention somewhere.  For my money, eight was plenty. They all had titles of a sort. Some had formal names, others had “restricted,” listed in that row. Most of them noted, “does not desire social contact.”

The very first guest listed was a Tagon. It set off a little alarm in my head. On a previous mission, R.J. had reminded me that their favorite beverage was blood and if you held out a hand to them it meant you were offering them a small taste. Not surprisingly the notation indicated, “social interaction acceptable.” The individual’s name was restricted. His title was, “Lord of Acondra.” There was something akin to a pencil sketch to show the general features of a Tagon. Hair down to the shoulder, piercing eyes with upturned brows, a prominent nose above a mouth that seemed to protrude a little bit forward ending at the front in an almost heart-shaped design which reminded me somewhat of a suction cup.

Next on the list was a Sentian, a species capable of seeing through and passing through any solid matter with an atomic number lower than lead. His name was listed but was made up of four long surnames, none of which I could ever pronounce. He was apparently friendly. Social contact was not restricted. He was listed as an ambassador. His line drawing mug shot revealed an almost triangular shaped head with no hair, eyes with no eyebrows, tiny slots where a nose would normally be, and a slit for a mouth completely devoid of lips. No ears were apparent.

Before I could continue, R.J.’s face appeared in the top right corner of my screen. “Adrian, would you please select ‘adjoining door’ since you haven’t approved me to enter through the front?”

The request intrigued me. Could I actually install a door in the wall of my stateroom from a console? I returned to the stateroom control page and found the interconnecting door option. R.J. had already selected a style of dark wood double doors. I watched the wall and pressed enter. Immediately an outline in light formed on the wall, and a second later doors materialized. One moment further and they burst open as R.J. came charging through.

“Adrian, let’s go hit the main dining area. I’m starved,” he said. He was still dressed in his light-green flight suit and athletic shoes.

“But I haven’t finished learning which other guests might kill me and which will not.”

R.J. laughed. “I know them all well. I’ll keep you in line. If I don’t get something to eat I might just die anyway. It’s 1:00 P.M. Earth time.”

“Well, what time is it here?”

“The ship runs on a thirty-hour day, fifteen hours of daylight, fifteen hours of evening. They say you can see twin suns set outside the fake information center windows, no matter where you are on board. That ought to be happening about now. They turn down shipboard lights for effect, too.”

I swiveled in my seat, leaned forward and pulled aside the white silk window curtain. Just as R.J. had promised, twin suns were approaching a seascape horizon.

R.J. fidgeted. “So, we’re late for lunch. Besides, I stuck my head out the door a few minutes ago and happened to see the Crystal sisters headed there.”

I sat back. “Oh my god, we haven’t been here an Earth hour and you’re already predatory. It’s the other guests who are in danger, not us.”

“What can I do? Fantasia’s still on duty.”

“I love your optimism.”

“Shall we?”

“You want me along because there’s two of them.”

R.J. clasped his hands together. “Not exactly, mon ami. They are identical twins, identical in many ways.”

I locked my terminal and followed R.J. out. In the concourse, I took a moment to look aft. At the far end of the corridor there were three doors, two small ones on either side, one large threatening one in the center. The side doors were engineering offices. The center door with its multilingual warning signs led to all things power. With luck, it was possible I might talk my way into a tour.

We headed along the unoccupied glass hallway in search of the dining room.

“They are identical in many ways, you were saying?”

“So identical that they know what each other is doing at any given moment and they make all but the simplest of decisions as a pair. Apparently twins are the norm on the planet Iahlea, and that’s the way all things are done there.”

“Why are they aboard?”

“The profile says, Entertainers. I’m guessing they’re being wined and dined by Enuro executives to be resident performers there.”

The open glass doors to the dining area appeared on our right. We entered and paused to choose a table. The Crystal sisters were seated at the far end. They took notice of our entrance without being obvious. They were the only other guests in attendance.

Each of the table sets around the room were of very different architecture. I would not have known how to sit at many of them. In keeping with the rest of the ship’s interior, everything seemed to be constructed of material that looked like molded glass. There appeared to be a spot not far from the sisters that would support human rear-ends, so there we headed.

On one side of the room a long glass counter was being manned by a single person, a four-foot gentleman with short green hair, beady eyes, and big lips, dressed all in white. He was fussing with an arrangement of empty dishes and serving trays. We seemed to be of no interest to him at all.

“So they do have waiters, then?” I asked as we sat at our transparent table setup. Almost in response, a circular display popped up in the center of our table and began to slowly rotate showing different presentations of foods. Selection keys lit up on the table in front of me.

“The waiters are actually the maintenance personnel. They double in the general services jobs since this ship usually requires so little maintenance.”

“How could you have picked all this up so fast?”

“I went right to the food services directory.”

“So how do we order?”

“You select from the rotating menu, then go over to that counter and the food will be waiting.” R.J. kept looking past my shoulder at the sisters.

“You mean we have to get our own food?”

“See? See how fast technology ruins you?”

“Oh my God, I’ve set you off and we’re inside a giant machine, no less!”

“Let me tell you about this glorious star trek through oblivion. The only nature you’ll find here are the other people and some, but not all, of the food products. The only way you can be one with nature here would be to step outside and take your last breath.”

“For Pete’s sake, R.J.”

“There are no Petes here, believe me.”

“R.J., I saw a History Channel special recently about a man named Timothy Leary. I believe you’re filling in for him now that he’s dead.”

“No, no, no. He’s outside, looking in.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

I smirked and started to say something when a sudden blaring of high-pitched horns sounded and red lights began flashing in the ceiling. It startled us, but after looking around we found the sisters ignoring the alarm completely. The attendant hurried toward us, squinting in concern.

“Please, forgive the intrusion. It is nothing at all to be concerned about. We have been having false intruder alerts for the past several days. It is a sensor malfunction. They are working to fix it,” he said and waited breathlessly to see if our reaction would be a problem.