Chapter Five

 

I was the second one to dinner, that night. Perry was already helping Ceely to bring out steaming pans of beef and broccoli and Lo Mein noodles. Skirting past them to head back into the kitchen, I washed Roshin’s blue mug in the sink before going out and fixing a plate. By then, Ceely was sitting on her own, sipping coffee, and perusing what I could clearly see were schematics on the handheld device I’d lent her.

I stopped and surveyed the empty tables. I felt uncomfortable at the thought of sitting with Ceely, I never knew what I was going to get with her. But then, if I sat with her, Roshin was more likely to come and sit with us, it would be less noticeable. The Captain, too, might end up gracing us with his presence again… But the back of my neck prickled with discomfort at the thought of going over, being asked for space.

She felt my eyes on her and looked up. Waved me over.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I went. “Cracking the books?”

“…Yes. I’d like to know more about Carius Industries. How and when it was founded, its mission statement. Do you have access to some sort of company history, or recruitment video?”

“Certainly.” I held out my hand and accepted the device. “I just assumed it wouldn’t interest you, that you’d rather get down to brass tacks.”

“Normally you would be right, but I have a hunch about where some of this technology came from.”

While I searched files, I found myself wondering if this could have something to do with why she was really here. If the Captain were right and she had some ulterior motive, maybe she would need to know more about the company. Probably I should tell him, just to keep him up to speed. Maybe she needed to be kept away from the machines.

“How is your throat?”

I blinked. “Fine, thank you. Still sore, but I can speak.”

“Good… I didn’t thank you, for not running away… or stepping aside, earlier.”

I felt my cheeks warm. “I was no help to you. Not really.”

“You bought me a few seconds I needed. If both of them had chased me into the kitchen, they would have caught me.”

Her voice stayed the same calm and level tone that it always did. Grounded and maternal. I nodded my acceptance, and I did feel a bit proud.

“Here’s a welcome video Carius shows most new recruits.”

The video started to play, I could hear it but my attention was elsewhere as I saw Roshin enter the galley with a few others. His eyes found me, my heart beat became pronounced in my chest.

“Hello and welcome to Carius Industries. Here, you’ll be a part of a dynamic team from all walks of life dedicated to providing the things this world needs. Carius is at the forefront of nuclear and wind-powered technologies-.”

He was at the serving bar, had filled his tray. His eyes found me. He looked away and walked straight past me, keeping his head down until he was situated at the table closest to the door, and I could only stare at his back, feeling lost. Was I not receptive enough, earlier? Did I not say the right thing? Maybe he was just feeling as confused as I was. Maybe, like chess, he had made his move and now it was my turn. But I didn’t know how to make those kind of moves.

Ceely tapped the screen to pause the video. “It’s what I thought. Carius acquired Jordan-Dorian, the company for which I was the chief mechanical engineer back in 2023.”

It reminded me of my earlier suspicions, set the back of my neck to prickling again. “What?”

“These engines in the flight rigs, I recognized them right away, they’re adapted from my design. I’m guessing Jordan-Dorian went under when I dropped off the map.”

I blinked. Turned it over in my mind. “If that’s true, then… Assuming you did even the basic due diligence when you signed your contract with your old company, then you’d have a claim for thirty years of lost dividends, with profits in the trillions.”

“It’s true. And I always do my due diligence. But I don’t care about any dividends, it also makes me the perfect person to be servicing the engines in the event any repairs need to be made.”

Her excitement was limited, much less powerful than mine would be if I found out that I was essentially a millionaire. There was only a cool satisfaction evident in the purse of her lips, the tiny smile as she shook her head and sipped coffee.

The Captain would need to hear about it. If Ceely had all the money a person could ever need waiting to be collected with some comparatively light paperwork and litigation, then that cut her possible sinister intentions down to next to nothing. I sat back and wondered if she was just a person that I -or the Captain, or the world- would never understand. Some people would never pour themselves out to you. Maybe I needed to focus my energy elsewhere, as uncomfortable as the not-knowing made me.

“How’s the food?”

I hadn’t even tasted it. I quickly took a bite of broccoli, mumbled approvingly, and nodded. Notes of soy, ginger, garlic, sesame seeds. She cooked the same way that she seemingly built, efficiently.

The Captain walked into the room with the rest of the crew, going for coffee, making his way around and making small talk or checking in with Roshin, Perry, JJ while the other men went through the line collecting food. JJ was sitting with his co-conspirators, eating, and as soon as the Captain stepped away, his eyes locked on Ceely. She sipped more coffee and stared right back at him, undaunted. He broke the gaze first, smirking.

It put me on the edge of my seat, keeping my eyes down after that. When the Captain slid in across from us, he cut off the men’s view of her and my entire body relaxed in his presence.

“Captain. How are things?”

“Operational.”

Ceely said, “I hope you like Chinese.”

He replied in coarse Mandarin that yes, he did. She nodded, seeming to get the idea.

I smiled, wondered if I was still up to the task of conducting a conversation in the language, then decided that I would have to be quite full of myself to make that leap, and besides, it would presumably exclude Ceely. I stuck to English.

“We’ve just discovered something interesting. Apparently the company which Ceely last worked for -as their chief engineer- was acquired by Carius when the company was still in its infancy.”

She was not bashful, nor prideful. “The engines which carry your flight rigs are based largely on my design.”

He was intrigued, but it eased his suspicions none, I could tell. “That is interesting. And you had no idea of this, the last time that you resupplied, set foot on land, or ventured out on your submarine, or wound up here?”

“No. It’s a coincidence.”

He nodded, pushed his plate aside so that there was nothing between them but the empty table. He folded his hands on top of it, leaned forward. “I don’t think that you’ve lied to me yet, Captain Bennett, I tend to have a good eye for that. But I do know when I’m not being told the whole truth, and you’ve been holding something back from me since the moment we met. I don’t trust you, and whatever it is that you’re doing here, I’m not going to let you bring any harm to the ship, the crew, or the company.”

I felt sweat break out all over my body; I hadn’t been expecting to suddenly be witnessing something so hostile and forthright over dinner, with the crew all around. The Captain had kept his voice low to prevent anyone overhearing; part of his balancing act of holding the crew’s respect and obedience. They couldn’t know that anything was amiss. The beef I was chewing became lodged in my throat. Coughing, I tried to dislodge it.

Pursing her lips, nodding, Ceely shrugged. “You can keep as close an eye on me as you want, Captain. I have nothing to hide.” She sipped coffee, seemed to notice me coughing, and gave me a pat on the back.

By then, I was breathing again.

The Captain relaxed, starting on his dinner. “We might reach the drilling site tomorrow, or early the next day. You’ll get to see your design in action.”

“I hadn’t intended for my work to help streamline the harvesting of fossil fuels. I had hoped it would be a prototype toward replacing them. Maybe even lead to safer and further space travel.”

He shook his head. “The world will always need oil. We’ll just have to dig deeper and sacrifice more to get it.”

“And wake up more monsters,” Ceely murmured, and I had to look over, her voice was softer than usual, sadder. The Captain noticed it, too. She shook it off. “Is it because of the creature that they came up with this flight rig?”

“Yes, to get it out in a hurry and to eliminate cost and risk of setting up and dismantling a drilling platform.”

I chimed in, “And to evade certain laws about construction in international waters.”

“And to keep ahead of environmental activists.”

“Right…” It didn’t sit well with her. “In the event of an attack the company flies the rig out, and leaves the crew to the beast or, presumably, any other threat?”

The Captain answered. “The flight rig is a trillion-dollar piece of equipment. We represent about seven or eight hundred thousand in value. Settlements, lost labor, media damage control…”

“Eight hundred and twelve thousand dollars,” I corrected him. “And most of that is the value of the ship.”

“Of course it is.” Ceely was deeply, surprisingly perturbed.

“The food is good.”

“It is…”

“Thank you.”

I wondered if I should go over and give Roshin his mug back, or if it would be some huge spectacle, embarrass him, put us both on the chopping block. The men are too tough, small-minded, probably giving any hint of closeness between us is too dangerous. But it would be rude to keep it. And if he was waiting for me to make the next move, returning his mug would be the best thing I could come up with… I stared at the thing, and at him, deep in thought while Ceely and the Captain had another exchange.

“Would I be able to collect some tools after dinner, to start working on the reconditioning of my sub?”

He only nodded. Then looked at me.

“Want me to come along?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” It seemed the Captain had figured out the financial implications of Ceely’s design being used in the rigs. His suspicions of her making some accusation against him to sue the company were gone. But he looked at me again. I didn’t know why.

I kept my head down and focused on my food, thinking the whole time about my mug conundrum. Would returning it make me look like I didn’t care? Maybe he was alright with me keeping it… No, I couldn’t assume that.

I have to just do it, I realized, without thinking about it. Or I would never riddle out the correct answer, never work up the courage. I had wasted too many minutes wondering and had failed to eat my food before it got cold. Roshin did not waste time, as a general rule. He had finished his small meal and stood, heading to the dish bins.

I flew to my feet. Knowing there were eyes on me, at least the Captain’s and Ceely’s, my face was aflame. I caught him under the door’s archway.

“Here,” I thrust the mug at him. It shook visibly for the entire two seconds it took for him to recognize me, and reach up, and take it. His finger touched mine. My skin tingled.

“Did it help?”

“Very much. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll see you around.”

“Yes. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” My face was smiling, though I was trying to hold my smile back. And as Roshin turned out of my view, and down the empty corridor, I thought that I saw his lips react, too. It was not a smile, just a slight tightening that made a crease appear at the corners.

I turned back into the galley, heart pounding and more than a few pairs of eyes on me. I hurried to my seat. The Captain kept focused on his meal, but I knew from all my time observing him that he would have noticed the exchange, calculated possibilities. I knew the risk assessment, myself.

There were hard men around. And hard men did not like soft men like me. The Captain was probably thinking that here was another crew member in danger, and making a spectacle of himself, and that was just great. His heavy sigh, small head shake confirmed it.

I didn’t care. I had hardly felt so alive in all my life, so seen. And, to think, I’d had to come to this God forsaken place to find myself.

I hardly slept a wink.

The next morning, I got up early and showered and shaved, and checked my messages, still sitting on my bunk.

Scott apologized for not getting back to me sooner on my request for Roshin’s records, and was glad that I had closed the matter on my own. Lucille Bennett was a tricky matter, and would require some favors from higher up to reintroduce her to the IRS and Social Security offices. She would need to submit to a blood test to prove that she was who she said she was, but if that turned out to be the case, she was a welcome addition to the company and arbitration should be begun to settle the matter of her lost dividends.

In a post-statement, Scott mentioned how incredible it was to deal with the challenges of having someone who was legally declared dead declared undead again. It was not the first time a person had been wrongly assumed to be a casualty of the creature (C.O.C.) but that he never thought he would get to handle one. The head clerk was as much a nerd as the rest of us, it seemed.

I saved documents which needed Ceely’s signature, and headed for breakfast. Perry was there, as he had been at dinner. Breakfast was a square of a baked oat bar with cinnamon, cranberries and little chips of chocolate, along with crispy bacon. I collected some, and coffee, and joined Ceely at a table. She picked small pieces off of her oat square.

“Can’t taste the orange zest,” she murmured, disappointed.

I bit a corner. “I think it’s yummy.”

She nodded her thanks. She had schematics out again.

“I’ve got word from my superiors. They sent me some applications you need to sign to restore your status as one of the living, and an employment contract, they’re interested in arbitration and settling what they legally owe you. I’d expect something along the lines of a yearly stipend, more of a generous wage for your continued work with the company than a lump sum.”

“I told you I don’t care about that. They can pay me what they want to.”

“I know, but don’t be rash. It’s your money, not the company’s. You could give it away if you wanted.”

“True.”

“They also need a blood sample, to confirm your identity. The sooner, the better to get the ball rolling.”

“Fine. Who’s the medical officer on the ship?”

“Officially, that position doesn’t exist. The Captain has the most medical training. Perry had some when he was in the army, and I’m CPR certified, myself.”

Perry was standing at the window, looking out, sipping coffee with the sun on his face.

Ceely called to him. “Perry? Can you do a blood draw?”

He seemed to have forgotten that we were there. Smiling apologetically, he answered, “Needles freak me out.”

“The Captain, then. Unless you’d like to take a stab at me?”

I shook my head.

“I’m sure for verification purposes, they won’t want me doing it myself.”

“Could you?”

“How hard can it be? I had two children, and needles in my spine with each one. Not to mention my cervix scraped every year since I was nineteen.”

I tried to huff in a good-natured way, but it made swallowing my next bite a bit difficult.

Roshin came in after a few other men had, and sat alone. I was disappointed, but then, it was early in the day. Perry scanned the room and seemed pleased with the array of faces -no doubt in terms of the protection that their presence offered Ceely- and left the galley. Probably going to sit on the bow with his pear or orange or apple.

The Captain did not arrive to eat breakfast with us. When one single man among the last group of men left in the galley stood up, the others all began to rise, too. They seemed to be aware of the concern we all had for Ceely -that the Captain did not wish for her to be left alone- so they all went at once. I went, too, and found him up on the deck. It was a humid morning, almost completely windless. The grey seas around the tanker were calm except for the spray of salty droplets as the bow cut through the water, and the choppy wake left behind us. I hadn’t been up on deck since Ceely approached in her sub and the alarms went off. Had it really been only a day and a half ago? And still the storm that seemed to be threatening us had not materialized.

Men were on hands and knees scrubbing the deck. One was being strapped into a harness and climbing over the edge to scrape barnacles off of the sides with another man spotting him. Perry was in the gunner’s turret doing systems checks. The Captain was in the control room with JJ.

My stomach churned at the sight of them together. I wondered again if I was doing the right thing keeping my mouth shut. I was letting the Captain be bamboozled, after all. And while I didn’t always like him, I did always respect him.

JJ stepped out as I was stepping in. He bumped my shoulder with his own, not aggressive enough to knock me around but enough that I knew it was intentional. The Captain noticed and his eyes narrowed as he watched the older man go, but he said nothing about it. “What is it?”

“The company requires a blood test to confirm Ceely’s identity.”

“And I’m the only one who knows how to work a needle.” He stated it plainly, as though it was fact.

It took a minute, but I realized he was making a joke. Plenty of the men must have experience with drugs, all of them having some kind of criminal background the way that they did. Probably not Roshin.

I tipped my head, tried to chuckle but the sound came out tense, dry. I wondered if the joke were not deeper, darker than I realized. Had the Captain once stuck needles in those immaculate arms? Or did he just mean that he was covered in tattoos?

Shaking his head at me or maybe at himself, he stepped out of the control room.

I hurried after; the Captain never strolled, always moved with purpose. “Should I come?”

“Yes.”

Down we went, and I sucked in a last lungful of air. It was not clear air, exactly, not like the filtered stuff back at my office on the mainland. It had a smog to it, an acrid taste. But it was not the confined air below deck, stale.

The galley was locked. Ceely came and looked through the round window at us. She opened the door.

“Time for my checkup?”

The Captain tipped his head.

The med bay was a room and bathroom in the same block as our crew quarters, the same size. It had a bed, no dresser, just a first aid kit hanging on the wall and a locked metal cabinet beside it. A computer and small work station on the back wall.

The Captain kept a few keys in his pocket, probably all for the ship. They were attached to a chain that also hooked onto his belt. I frowned at that; I had thought he carried a master key which could open any lock on the ship. Maybe a few locks were thought to be important enough to warrant their own key. He found the right one as I was still stepping inside, and waited for me to close the door and lock it before opening the cabinet.

There were bandages, surgical instruments, IV bags and tubes, syringes and artificial skin grafts in shiny bags. The top shelf held the medications, only a few types. Some liquid and some pill form, antibiotics and probably narcotics, too.

Ceely sat on the bed, rolled her sleeve up.

The Captain assembled tools, washed his hands, put on gloves. A small vial, a small needle, an alcohol swab. Neither of them spoke as he wrapped a rubber tube around her arm as a tourniquet. He wiped the skin with the cleanser in a circle around the inside of her arm. I could see the blue veins standing out on her milky skin. His hands were not shaking -as mine surely would have been- as he opened the needle’s package, knelt in front of her, and ran a fingertip over her veins as they became engorged.

I leaned against the door and watched, silent, still, feeling like I was becoming scenery, invisible. I didn’t know if it was who I was -a clerk- or who the two of them were: self-possessed, secure, locked in contention because of his mistrust and her ulterior motives.

“Have you done this before?”

“Twice. Ready?”

“If you are.”

He was focused, tongue between his teeth, lips parted slightly. He pushed the needle in and her face reacted infinitesimally. Blood blossomed into the end of the needle, he hooked the small vial up in a smooth motion and it started to fill, the red blood surging with beats of her heart.

“Very brave,” he said. The vial was full, disconnected, sealed and set on the gleaming metal tray wheeled up nearby. The needle slid out of her flesh, a dot of blood remaining at the mouth of the small puncture. He taped a cotton ball down onto the crook of her arm.

“You too. Well done.”

“I don’t have any lollipops for you.”

“How about a Vicodin?”

“Sure, they won’t miss one.” He pulled his gloves off, stretched them taught and shot them into the trashcan.

I was captivated, watching the two of them.

He was so professional, so aloof, but so careful. He would not poke the woman without being sure that she was ready, praising her for her braveness. A suspicious and unbending man, but still a gentleman, still sprinkling in his dry humor.

And her. Brave, or just used to pain, not willing to let him see her flinch. Maternal in her offer of praise, reciprocal of his own, but still trying to keep him on his toes with that request for Vicodin. I couldn’t know if she were trying to mirror him or if they were just so much alike.

He went to the computer on the back wall, entered a security code, then positioned the vial into a special compartment. It punctured through the top, whirred as it analyzed, then showed the results all in seconds.

“Lucille Amelia Bennett. In the flesh.”

“The one and only.” She rubbed her arm. “I’m sure I can make it back to the galley from here-.”

“No.” The word was cold and hard as iron. He was busy disposing of the remnants of the sample. “You’ll wait while I disinfect, then I’ll walk you back, myself. Jacob, you can go.”

I had forgotten that I was there. I nodded and went. “Yes, Sir.”