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LENA SLEPT. UNCONSCIOUSLY. The little day watch team of able and petty sailors brought her a put-up bed in a different room. “Just for the time being”, the captain had said. Lena hadn’t pointed out that the ship could morph itself anywhere, anyhow, so it didn’t much matter where they bunked her or what she slept on, but there was never a better time not to rock the boat. Lena had no idea how long it had been since she’d slept properly, as opposed to driving. She was finding sleep different. When she was the Dream Pilot, it wasn’t as if she got no rest at all, it was just those nights felt light. She’d had a run of overly exciting dreams, one after the other all night, so the rest went along with huge spikes of adrenaline, muscle aches and weird feelings of stuff she couldn’t quite recall. Time was starting to feel very, very abstract, firstly from the point of view of how much she wasn’t awake, but also from her limited understanding of how extremely fast travel worked. She knew it messed with time. And it felt like it.
On waking, there was a beautiful pattern on her walls. A very vague splotchy suggestion of flowers in purple and pink and tiny, bright, straw-coloured spots of light bobbing from one bloom to another. Lena had given up working out whether she was imagining what the patterns meant or whether Rowie was reading them from her head. She was just calling it some form of communication and rolling with it. It was reassuring, a little like Rowie’s energy field hugs, and Lena was glad of that. Her nose twitched at a pleasing smell from farther into the ship. She changed into a fresh set of overalls that someone had laid out for her along with the weird recyclable smalls that everyone seemed to use. The navy socks went the other way and were fluffy, wickable and never needed washing. They never even smelled, not that Lena was particularly prone to that. She pulled up the lovely new set of short boots that went with the outfit, and feeling like a proper member of the crew, followed her nose to the mess.
Once she’d reached the doorway of the noisiest room of the ship she fully acknowledged how ravenous she was. Behind the serving counter all along one wall the cheerful chef was serving pancakes. She shuffled to find a tray with everyone else. Once she’d filled a plate with pancakes, and a glass of juice, she turned. Uncle Richard waved her over to the table where he sat with the doctor. She was glad not to have to make brand-new friends this morning. That would all have been a bit much, along with everything else. There was maple syrup. She could smell the unique treacle and earth aroma. Uncle Richard smiled and pushed the jug towards her to avoid her drooling on the table.
“There’s cream too,” said Dr Fuller. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. A bit. Thank you,”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it. You’re going to need your recharge, there’s a senior staff meeting this morning and the captain has asked you be there.”
“But—”
“The captain requests and requires!” said Uncle Richard. Lena couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “And here’s you a senior staffer already, responsibilities and everything.”
Lena felt tears well up in her eyes. Uncle Richard looked horror-struck.
“Don’t tease the poor child, she’s had a stressful time enough without you joining in.” He patted her arm and glared mock-threateningly at Richard over the top of his coffee.
The catering crew had done everyone proud. It felt more like a luxury liner than a quasi-military vessel. There were even tablecloths. Fuller’s arm pad buzzed. He glanced down then back at Lena, “You know where the conference room is?”
“Mmph,” Lena said round her pancake.
“Then finish your breakfast and follow us there. Richard, shall we?”
Lena looked up to see them leave and then realised there were just catering staff clearing up, and one lone engineer filling their coffee. She washed the rest of her pancakes down with her juice and took her tray back to the counter.
The conference room had a guard posted at the door. It was Lee, the same officer from before who smiled warmly but still barred her way with a hand, “’Old on love. Need to check they’re ready.”
“Where’s your accent from?” said Lena
The woman laughed at that, “Liverpool, lovely.”
“Oh! Liverpool, yeah, now I hear it.”
“Can’t ignore it kid! Wait while I knock.” She rapped on the door, still facing Lena.
“Come!” Came the captain’s voice from inside.
Lee held the door open for Lena. The room was packed, even allowing for the long table with chairs down either side. The captain sat at the head, there was one empty chair left at the opposite end. Lena felt a little like a naughty child.
“Hello, Lena,” the captain said, standing.
There was an old-school chalkboard behind her that someone was wiping. The last words in chalk said ...unplug the ship? before they were erased.
“Please sit,” said the captain gesturing to the empty seat.
Lena walked down the row of people: Fuller, Uncle Richard, the chief engineer and chief scientist, as well as the bosun, someone else she’d not met and sitting either side of her at the opposite end of the table were Fazar and his marine sergeant, Beaumont Montgomery Stanley. Lena, smile fixed to her face, walked the long walk to the end of the table and sat. She poured a glass of water and gulped it down. Fazar smiled in the same way, a crocodile’s smile.
