Star Cruise - Outbreak (6 page)

“Good. Anything I need to know on the personal level?” the captain asked. “I read your public record. Impressive. Brave, resourceful, skilled.” Eyes level, face expressionless, Fleming studied her as if she were a cadet reporting to her first assignment on his ship. “Heard rumors you’re having a bit of trouble with lingering effects from your experiences.”

Gripping the mug so hard she was afraid it might shatter in her hand, Emily took a deep breath and sipped at the aromatic liquid.
Who has he been talking to and what did they say?
“I cleared the psychiatric evals, sir. I’m fine.”

“PTSD happens to the best of us,” Fleming said. His tone was mild, but his eyes were narrowed, studying her. “Takes all different forms. Nothing to be ashamed of. As long as you can carry out the duties required of you on my ship for the next two months or so, we’re square.”

Setting the spoon on the edge of the desk, she said, “I have the odd nightmare every now and then—who doesn’t? I’ll be fine watching over the health of your passengers and crew.”

He nodded, although she didn’t believe he’d actually relaxed. “Jake’s your liaison, although obviously you can come straight to me with anything you deem significant enough to require my attention. Speaking of which, any concerns about the man who died last night?”

“Groskin?” She shook her head. “Simple case of pneumonia overtaxing the heart, as far as I can see without an autopsy. He may not have been in the best of health to begin with. Somewhat overweight. I noted in the records I reviewed that he’d been at the clinic the week before I got here, with a mild gastrointestinal issue. Dr. Meers saw him and found nothing to cause unusual concern during the office visit.” She decided not to mention her plans to do a bit of discreet follow-up on Groskin’s contacts.

“All right, then.” Fleming set his empty mug on the desk with a clink. “Thank you for agreeing to ship out with us. I hope you’ll have a peaceful voyage.”

Taking his dismissal for what it was, Emily finished her coffee in one gulp, rose to place the mug and spoon in the cleaning unit on the side table and left the cabin. Fleming was already busy with Maeve and the reports again as the panel slid shut. She could certainly see why the Line hired a First Officer with deep qualifications in cruise operations—Fleming hadn’t lost an ounce of his frosty military demeanor, even if he was retired. She liked dealing with someone so straightforward and matter-of-fact, but the passengers probably wouldn’t. Unless there was an emergency. Fleming looked like the last starship captain in the Sectors who’d abandon anyone in space.

CHAPTER FIVE

Jake was leaning against the corridor bulkhead and now fell into step with her. “Things go all right with the captain?”

Annoyed, she stopped in the middle of the hall. “I don’t need a babysitter. As I told Fleming just now, I cleared my psych exams. I know my way around big ships, Officer Dilon.”

Jake held up his hands. “Hey, I never said I was babysitting. Captain Fleming can be a hard-ass at times. And I’m assigned to be your liaison so it’s my job to keep everyone happy. Didn’t he mention that?”

“Yeah, he brought it up.”

Grinning, he said, “So here I am, liaising.”

“Is that even a word?” Laughing, she shook her finger at him and kept her voice light. “Back off until I have something I need to talk to you about.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake touched his forehead in a mock salute. “You sure left the party in a hurry last night. My friends wondered where you’d gone. I didn’t have a chance to ask you about it while we were in Groskin’s cabin. Was everything okay?”

Tapping her thigh, she said, “Pulled hamstring, needed ice.” Before he could answer, she continued to the gravlift, relieved he wasn’t following.
 

Grumbling, she allowed Maeve to dock her wages an inordinate amount for a CLC dress uniform, which her employment contract stated wasn’t provided at company expense but was required for certain functions. “Fine print indeed,” she muttered as she thumbprinted the screen. “Management gets the working stiff coming and going, right, Maeve?”

“The CLC Line must make a profit in order to continue flying, Doctor.”

“If the company is relying on screwing me out of the cost of a dress uniform to stay in the black, CLC’s in bad shape.” Chuckling at the thought, Emily felt her spirits lift a bit.

 
Maeve having no comment, Emily reluctantly left her cabin and headed to the Level A dining room to do her duty at the captain’s table. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than spending a few awkward hours hobnobbing with civilians and making small talk. At least at the crew party the night before, she’d been able to play volleyball and avoid talking about anything but points scored or lost.

The maître d’ personally conducted her to the table in the center of the room. “You’re the ranking crew member present, Doctor,” he said as he seated her at the head, much to her dismay.
 

Right on her heels, Meg arrived, shepherding what must be the contest-winning family.

“Dr. Shane, I’d like to introduce you to Stev and Trynna Enzell, and their three children, Marc, Kirk and Syl,” Meg said.

The ordeal begins.
Trying not to grit her teeth, summoning a smile that felt fake, she shook hands with the adults and nodded at the children, who already projected massive boredom at having to attend an adult dinner.
If I was going to stay on this ship, I’d have to study a bit of basic pediatrics.
The idea was intriguing. It had been a long time since she acquired new skills. Surprised by the direction her mind was going, she uttered polite greetings to the expectant passengers. “Pleased to meet you all. Hope your voyage is going well so far.”

Mr. Enzell laughed as he held the chair for his wife and then sat in his own place. “We’ve got nothing to compare the experience to. So far, this is like inheriting a billion credits and moving to the Inner Sectors, right, Trynna?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Part of the prize we won is credits to use aboard ship, so Stev and I are hitting the casino later, doing major shopping tomorrow. Meg said she’d watch the kids for us tonight.”

Meg nodded. “My fiancé’s on duty, so this will be my pleasure. Better than hanging out in our cabin alone. I have nieces and nephews at home, so I started babysitting pretty young. I figure we’ll stay in their suite, play games with the AI, watch a few trideos, fun activities.”

“Room-service desserts, you promised,” said Syl, pointing her finger at Meg. “Frozen cream clouds and syrup and sprinkles and—”

“All the fixings, right.”

“Sounds like fun,” Emily said, realizing parts of the outlined evening did have an appeal. Better than studying more medical records or traveling to the cryo deck to examine the late Mr. Groskin again. Stifling a sigh, she greeted three more guests who were joining them at the table. Platters of various appetizers were brought by the efficient wait staff.
 

Mr. Enzell was a tech engineer and not conversational once his serving of rare Azrigone beef arrived. He concentrated on the meal as if someone was going to take the food away any second. Mrs. Enzell was preoccupied with the children and correcting their manners, although Emily appreciated how polite and well behaved the boys and their sister were.
 

The head waiter escorted two late-arriving passengers to the table. Glancing up from her own steak, Emily did a double take. Both were familiar faces, although it took her a moment to pin down the recollection as the introductions were performed.
 

“Dr. Shane, may I present Liora and her husband, Sid Daburkn?”

“Oh my goodness, I’ve seen all your trideos,” Emily said to the actress, shaking her hand enthusiastically. “What an honor to meet you, both of you.
Pirates of the Solar Sails
was my favorite trid ever.”

“We met on the set of
Pirates
, and the rest is history.” Sid, who also acted when he wasn’t directing, held his wife’s chair and then shook Emily’s hand. “Pleased to meet you as well, Doctor. We’ve heard of you. The Angel of Fantalar, yes?”

All around the table, passengers swiveled to gape at Emily. Even the well-trained waiter paused in serving the next course. Only the three children were unaffected, chattering amongst themselves until their mother nudged the eldest in the ribs and hissed at him to pay attention.

An urge to deny the title ran through her head, but Emily knew a protest would be futile. The news agencies had spread her image far and wide through the Sectors after the Fantalar rescue, seizing on both the human interest story and the nickname that grateful soldiers had given her. She was lucky not to have been recognized earlier. “I was on the planet, yes.” She lifted her wine glass, proud to see her hand wasn’t shaking. Taking a smaller sip than she craved, Emily said, “You of all people must know how the media exaggerate the most insignificant things, Mr. Daburkn.”

“Call me Sid. In your case, there was nothing small about what you did.” Sid refused to let the topic go, and the rest of the passengers were riveted by the conversation. His trained actor’s voice carried across the dining room. “You saved how many soldiers? And the Special Forces unit made you an honorary member of their team, which I’ve been told is a rare honor for a support person, even a doctor. Our production company researched the whole episode for a possible trideo or even a miniseries, but we received word you refused to grant the rights.” He paused to consume some steak, then it was back to the sales job. “Maybe now that you know us personally, you’ll reconsider. It would be a blockbuster hit, I promise you. Lots of human interest. We could add a romance.”

Anger and discomfort made her tongue-tied. Emily was afraid if she opened her mouth to say anything at all, she’d lose control.

Glancing at Emily, Liora touched her husband’s arm. “I think you’re making the doctor uncomfortable, dear. Let’s table the discussion for another time. We have a month on board, after all. We can schedule a meeting if you want to pursue the rights, and if she has any interest.”

Sid looked more closely at Emily’s expression and, apparently realizing she was upset, did a double take. “Don’t mix business with pleasure, you’re saying, my dear? All right, what’s on the menu?” Smoothly, he dropped the subject of Fantalar and surveyed the serving dishes on the table, snagging a roll.

Leaving her chair, the youngest Enzell child tugged at Liora’s sleeve, asking in a high-pitched, excited tone, “Are you the Gantaran Fairy Queen? Will you grant me a wish?”

“Now don’t bother the lady, Syl. Please go back to your seat.” Her mother shushed the girl, turning to the actress apologetically. “It was her favorite trid last year. She can sing all the songs.”

Liora leaned closer, putting her arm around the child. Focusing all her star power on the girl, she said, “I got to pretend to be her. You understand make-believe, right?” Syl nodded, eyes wide. “Well, the queen let me make-believe I was her for a little while, but I couldn’t very well borrow her real magic. She needs it all to keep Gantara safe.” The actress plucked one of the cloth napkins from the table, and her husband handed her a writing instrument in a deft move he’d obviously made many times before. Liora drew a caricature of a fairy on it, signed her name and wrote a short message before handing it to the girl. “Just for you,” she said.

“What do you say?” the mother prompted.

“Thank you.” Syl skipped to her chair and showed off her treasure to her siblings.

“That’s kind of you,” said Mrs. Enzell as her daughter sat down.

Grateful the attention had been drawn away from her, Emily accepted the beautifully arranged plate of gourmet food representing the next course from the waiter. “Please, everyone, don’t let the food get cold.” She took note when Liora refused the planned menu and requested soup instead, flashing the dazzling smile the actress was famous for.

“A bit under the weather?” Emily asked, leaning closer and speaking quietly. She hoped her question didn’t sound too much like an interrogation, but her medical instincts were aroused.

The actress shook her head, blushing a bit. “I have a slightly upset stomach. I don’t think hyperspace agrees with me. I’ve had this problem before when we’ve traveled.”

“I can prescribe something.”

Liora took a tiny sip of water and straightened her silverware. “Thanks, but I have an inject. It’s worked infallibly before. I’m usually good by the second day, but we did some filming on the beach level so I couldn’t rest today.” Now she gave Emily the full effect of her wide-eyed, full star power. “We didn’t want to miss our first chance at the captain’s table.”

“Filming? Are you making a trideo aboard the
Zephyr
?” The entertainment industry had the element of mystery and magic, far more exotic to Emily than what she did. She guessed it was all a matter of perspective.

Liora took a moment to thank the waiter for her bowl of soup and then answered Emily’s question. “Just a few vignettes here and there for an infotainment special. Nothing with a plot. No acting required. The ship is so beautiful and well-appointed.”

“I can’t believe the chef is serving Skonesh seaweed crepes—what a delicacy! Have you ever seen such well-cooked filets?” Her husband reclaimed her attention for a moment.

Emily thought it was a pity Captain Fleming couldn’t be bothered to dine with passengers, but she’d underestimated the man. He dropped by at the dessert course, telling her to keep her seat at the head of the table, and sat in a chair the steward brought for him. There was a lively discussion for a few moments as he amped up the charm and the passengers vied for his attention, until he said, “Thanks for standing in for me at dinner, Dr. Shane, and now, folks, I have to get back to the bridge. I hope you enjoy the rest of the cruise.”