Out of Bight, Out of Mind

Chapter Fifteen

The head scanner tech on the Beyant battle cruiser B’autachia normally spent his tedious shifts daydreaming about getting home. After this mission was over, he and his p’agdtein could stay home for the rest of their careers, take assignments on Beyantaeux, and enjoy their lives together. At least this last mission wasn’t one they’d have to worry about their asses getting shot off over.

By contrast, it was long and boring.

Then a wrinkle in his monotonous routine stirred him. An unexplained blip on the edge of their scanner’s reach, a regular signal, like a beacon of some sort.

“Sir?” He waved the commander over.

Commander Raoulx looked over his shoulder and frowned. “It just appeared?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Distress signal?”

“Unknown, sir.”

The commander studied the signal for a moment before he finally gave an order to the navigator. “Change course. Close distance. Slowly. Scan. And send someone to inform Ambassador Raoulx.”

“Yes, sir.”

Within a few hours, as they closed the distance, the regular repetition of the pattern made it obvious it was a distress beacon, although one they weren’t familiar with. After a little research, Commander Raoulx discovered it was an ISTC Terran vessel’s distress beacon.

The commander scowled. They had no ISTC treaty—yet—and technically couldn’t get involved in matters with treaty races. But if it was a distress beacon, he could not in good conscience turn his back regardless of any repercussions.

The ambassador concurred as he studied the scanner signal when he arrived on the bridge. “It is a tiny thing,” the ambassador said. “Smaller than our own escape ships. It must be an escape ship. It certainly can’t be much of a threat for a fully armed Beyantaeux battle cruiser.” He nodded, as if to reassure himself. “Intercept immediately.”

The commander bowed his head. “Yes, Father.”

They drew within tractor beam distance of the small vessel. Upon making visual contact and magnifying the view, it definitely looked like an escape vessel. They could clearly see DSMC markings visible on the side.

“Scanners,” the commander ordered again. “Fine gain, magnification 800.”

“One life-form, sir.”

“Alive?”

“I…I think so. Barely.”

The commander looked at the scanner readings. “It certainly appears to be Terran. I believe it is a female.” The commander had had limited contact with Terrans, but they were similar enough in biology one of their kind could survive in Beyant environment.

Feeding her might be an issue.

He’d deal with that once he got her on board. “Tractor beam, lowest strength setting, slowest return. Bring it into Landing Bay One. Carefully,” he warned. “Gently. With utmost care, as if it is your own child on board. We will do nothing to trigger the ire of the ISTC or the Terrans this close to treaty signing.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once the small craft, almost certainly an escape vessel from the looks of it, was safely stowed in their landing bay, the commander and a group of security forces converged on it. He looked through the small window and saw what did in fact appear to be a Terran female inside. Unconscious, or asleep.

He studied the markings on the craft’s exterior. He could speak several Terran languages to a certain extent, learned in preparation for their negotiations, but reading them was a different matter. They used complicated combinations of letters that sometimes made no sense to him. He tried a few things, then discovered a recessed panel that opened under his touch. A green button inside seemed their only option.

He pressed it.

The port slid open.

No reaction from the Terran.

He signaled for a ladder and drew his sidearm before he crawled inside.

The interior of the tiny vessel felt unbelievably cold. And the air tasted flat and stale, as if the scrubbers weren’t working.

The Terran lay cocooned in blankets and strapped to a bench. He suspected that meant either the escape vessel had no artificial gravity capability, or she’d turned it off to conserve energy.

She looked fragile, vulnerable, emaciated. Her flesh had a slightly bluish tinge that couldn’t possibly be normal or healthy based on other Terrans he’d seen. When he touched her cheek, she felt cold, much colder than he knew Terrans should normally exist. But the telltale throbbing of her pulse was visible in her neck.

He holstered his sidearm and began unfastening the straps securing her and her blanket cocoon to the bunk. “Bring a stretcher,” he called to his men. “Immediately! And alert Pachya to prepare sick bay.”

At the sound of his voice, her eyes fluttered open. Sunken, grey eyes full of fear.

He barely heard and didn’t understand the soft word she spoke before she fell unconscious again. “Aaroncaphford.”

There was nothing in the escape vessel that could help them identify her. He also didn’t want to be caught with DSMC equipment on board his ship, even if it was an emergency. Having an undocumented Terran on board would be bad enough. At least they’d video recorded the events in minute detail, so if there were any questions later they could prove they didn’t forcibly abduct her and that they had no hand in her condition upon arrival.

He just prayed she survived.

After removing everything they could from the lifepod and finding the computer’s databanks empty, they resealed the pod and jettisoned it.

Their medical officer, Pachya, was useless with Terran physiology. Other than warming her body’s core temperature to a more acceptable level, his hands were tied.

“You are more familiar with Terrans than I am, Commander,” he said. “I scanned her and took a blood sample. I’ll go try to figure out her food needs.”

With Pachya declaring there was nothing more he could do for her directly at that time in sick bay, they moved her to a small guest cabin near the commander’s own cabin, where they could increase the room’s temperature for her comfort.

Raoulx pulled up a chair and sat by the bunk as he studied her sleeping profile. They’d tucked several warm packs under the blankets with her, as well as added several more blankets. As a result, her core temperature had already risen a few degrees.

He settled in to wait. As the ship’s commander, he needed answers. He wouldn’t leave until she awoke…or died.

Hours after they found her, she opened her eyes again, starting in fear as she saw him.

The woman stared at the figure in the cabin. Did she know him? She felt fear thrum through her body, but wasn’t sure why.

He made no movement toward her. His dark skin, a reddish, almost orangey hue, looked alien to her, although she didn’t know why. His blond hair hung to his shoulders, and his large, black eyes peered at her.

“Hello.”

She frowned, not sure if she was expected to respond or not, although she recognized it as a greeting.

“Comment allez-vous?” His voice sounded deep, rich, and full of cautious warmth. The words, however, made no sense to her.

She stared at him, not understanding what he said.

He tried again. “Cómo estás?”

That almost sounded…familiar. She cocked her head to listen, studying him. The longer she stared at him, the more sure she grew he meant her absolutely no harm. In fact, she had the distinct impression that he’d saved her life.

She just didn’t know how she knew that.

“How are you?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. That she knew for certain she understood. She nodded.

“You do speak English standard, then.”

She stared at him. The words made sense to her. She licked her lips, which felt dry. “I…think so.”

His brow arched in surprise. “You think so? Why did you not answer me the first time?”

She stared at him.

“Who are you?”

That was a harder one. She spoke the only word that immediately came to mind. Speaking it felt right. “Aaroncaphford.”

“Is that your name? You said it earlier.”

In her brain, a deep, dangerous blackness swirled. Inside the whirlpool thoughts streamed by, too fragile, too tenuous to grasp and pull into her mind. “I…don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“How did you get in the escape vessel?”

“The what?”

The man sat back and studied her. “I believe Terrans call them ‘lifepods.’ We found you in such a vehicle. It bore DSMC markings on it. You were alone inside.”

“What is the DSMC?”

“You do not know?”

She slowly shook her head.

He frowned. “What happened to your ship?”

“My ship?”

“Your ship.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Was I on a ship?”

He frowned again and leaned forward, but she didn’t feel threatened. She felt confusion and frustration from him that mirrored her own.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

She struggled to make sense of the gaping, black void in her mind. Things she knew she should know, images that swirled out of her grasp once again before she could make sense of them. Tears prickled her eyes, stinging, and she blinked them away. “I don’t know.”

She felt a wave of compassion from the man. Was that normal? She still didn’t feel threatened. In fact, while she could remember being afraid, being scared before, now she felt safe. This man wouldn’t hurt her. He didn’t want to hurt her. Although she didn’t know how she knew this either, she sensed he’d taken a big risk to rescue her.

“You have no memory of how you came to be in the Terran lifepod?”

She shook her head and started to cry. “No. Where am I?”

“You are on the Beyant battle cruiser B’autachia. We are en route to final treaty talks and signings.”

When the door opened and another, older man walked in, she tried to pull herself together and stop crying. His appearance seemed very similar to the man she was already talking to, with only slight differences in height and build, although his uniform looked different.

The two men conversed in their language for a moment. The older man looked at her with pity and sadness on his face. Then he spoke to her, although she couldn’t understand him.

The first man spoke again. “This is my father, Ambassador Raoulx.” The way he said the name sounded like rux to her. “He said he wants me to tell you we will guarantee your safety and well-being. And, as soon as we are able, we will leave you at a safe space station where we can turn you over to DSMC authorities. Hopefully they can help you with your memory.”

A twinge of fear ran through her as she sat upright. “I can’t stay here?” Here felt safe, even though she didn’t know exactly where here was. And considering what little she could remember of her life up to this point seemed filled with fear, she didn’t want to give up this newfound safety.

The younger man translated her question for his father. The ambassador looked thoughtful for a moment before he smiled at her and replied in their language.

The younger man translated again. “He said depending on how the treaty talks go, you might have no other choice but to stay with us. But if you wish to stay, we will not make you leave, nor will we force you to stay should you wish to go.”

“Will I get my memory back?”

“I am not a doctor.”

“What is your name?”

“I am called Commander Raoulx, but because you are not military, you may call me Yanna.”

When he stood, she realized how tall he was, over a foot taller than his father. The two men spoke for a moment in their language before Yanna turned to her again. “We need to get you something to eat and drink now that your body temperature has stabilized. We have no idea how long you were in the lifepod, or when you last ate or drank. Our ship’s medical officer took samples from what we found in the lifepod, and of your blood. Our water is close enough in composition it should not harm you. We need to be careful with food, however.”

She slowly swung her feet over the bunk’s edge, but didn’t feel strong or steady enough to stand yet. “Why?”

He smiled. It looked friendly. Like…

The strange word with no meaning drifted through her mind again.

Aaroncaphford.

“We do not wish to harm you,” he said. “I know some of our foods are not tolerated well by Terran bodies.”

She tried to stand, but her legs felt weak and she wobbled. Yanna caught her, lifting her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. “Come. I shall take you to our medical officer. He is in our lab. You must eat something.”

The ambassador followed as Yanna carried her through the corridors of the ship. It looked totally unfamiliar, and yet it reminded her of something.

She couldn’t remember what. Did she live on a ship like this?

“We need to call you something,” Yanna said. She felt the affection in his voice. Was that something special she could do, or could everyone do it?

“What?”

“You need a name.”

“A name? Why?” It frustrated her that she felt she should know all of this, and at one time that she did.

“We simply cannot go around calling you ‘Terran woman we found in a lifepod.’ I am no expert in Terran culture, but I suspect that would not be right. Plus, it is too long a name to remember.”

He had a sense of humor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stared into his comforting dark eyes. She felt no fear of him, although the circumstances surrounding her arrival here in his arms terrified her for reasons she didn’t know and couldn’t fathom. “What should I be called?”

“What was that word you said before?”

She thought about it. “Aaroncaphford.” It was the only thing she was sure of, even though she had no idea what it meant. He nodded as they rounded another corner. How big was this ship?

“Do you know how to spell it?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“I will look up my English lessons and see if I can figure it out. I believe I have heard of a female Terran name, Erin. And Terrans tend to use a given name followed by a family name. Erin Cafford. That would make sense. Do you approve of it?”

She nodded. It sounded as good as any.

“Very well then. We shall call you Erin Cafford until you can regain your memories and tell us otherwise.”

They entered a lab. Yanna carefully set her on her feet, but sensing her weakness, kept an arm around her waist. “Erin Cafford, this is our medical officer, Pachya.” He spoke in his language to the medical officer.

To her, the medical officer looked very similar to the other two men, only he was shorter and even older than the ambassador, more portly. He talked to Yanna for a moment and pointed to a work bench and a stool.

Yanna helped her onto the stool. The medical officer set two carafes of liquid in front of her. One was clear. Water, she thought. The other looked very similar although it had a slightly cloudy tint. It looked like tea, although as she thought about it, she wasn’t sure exactly what tea was.

Pachya spoke to Yanna, who then translated. “The clear one is a sample he tried to synthesize based upon what was in your lifepod. The cloudy one is what we normally drink. Apparently, your water has far fewer minerals in it than ours. There are no harmful microbes or living organisms in it, however. Nothing that will harm you. So in that respect it should be safe. He said he does not believe drinking our water long-term will harm you, but if you cannot drink it, he will have to filter some for you on a daily basis.”

She nodded and took a sip of the clear liquid. It tasted a little stale, but okay. She tasted the cloudy liquid and while it had an odd, strange flavor, it wasn’t objectionable.

Nothing that worried her.

“I think it’s okay.”

Pachya and Yanna exchanged comments. “He says if you want, he will still filter some for you until your body gets used to it.”

“Thank you.”

Pachya brought a plate of food over and talked to Yanna. Yanna explained. “He said based on the samples of food you had, he is sure these will be safe to start with. Until he can run more tests, he wants you to limit yourself to these items.” Yanna pointed to the different foods. “Tay is similar to what Terrans call pasta. Patu is a plant protein similar to what I believe you call tofu. And this is a fruit preserve made from a fruit called hana that we use for many things, but you might find it similar to what you call apples.”

She cautiously tested each, her stomach growling as she realized how hungry she was. It felt like she hadn’t eaten in days. Her clothes felt loose on her, like she’d recently lost a lot of weight. She began heartily eating.

The doctor said something, and Yanna laid a hand over hers to stop her. “He said you may need to eat slowly. You look like you have been starving for a while. You might make yourself sick if you eat too much too quickly.”

After thinking about it, she nodded. He pulled his hand away. He was right, although she didn’t know why or how she knew that. She slowly tasted and chewed. All three foods, while not spectacular, were edible. After twenty minutes she felt a little full and then realized she had another issue.

“Do you have a…” She thought for a moment. There were two words juggling for importance in her mind, but she didn’t know which one to use. “A…bathroom? Or a head? I have to go.”

“Go?”

She closed her eyes and struggled to make the words fit together in order. “Eliminate waste. Use the bathroom.”

Yanna looked at her, puzzled, then at Pachya. They exchanged a few words and Yanna nodded with comprehension as his eyes widened. “A sanitary facility. Over here.” He took her to a door, opened it, led her inside, and explained how to use the facilities. He then left her alone inside, closing the door behind him when he left.

With relief she dropped her sweatpants and sat there for a few minutes relieving herself, studying their version of what she knew she called a sink. Strange writing covered small placards around the room, including labels she couldn’t begin to decipher.

Oh boy.

Other than the facilities themselves, nothing looked familiar.

After she used the toilet, she stood at the sink and stared into the mirror. Grey eyes, although sort of sunken and lined with dark circles at this point. Pale skin, especially when compared to the men she’d seen. Auburn hair, currently a stringy mess, that hung well past her shoulders.

Who am I?

She stared into the mirror. “Erin Cafford,” she whispered to herself.

It didn’t feel right, although the word itself did when she said it the only way she remembered.

“Aaroncaphford.”

That made her heart ache in a sad way she didn’t want to contemplate right that moment.

When she finished washing her hands she returned to the lab. She felt a lot better, stronger, although still exhausted. “What now?” she asked.

Yanna studied her. “We will give you crew uniforms to wear, some personal supplies, and I will take you back to your quarters. You probably wish to clean up.”

She nodded.

He smiled, and it comforted her deep within her soul. “Well then, Erin Cafford, let us get you settled.”

Erin felt strong enough to walk as she followed Yanna through the ship to gather the spare uniforms for her and supplies. He appointed a guard to stand watch outside her cabin and left him instructions to bring her to him when she was ready.

“My cabin,” Yanna said, “is right over there.” He pointed to a door across the hall and two down from hers. “But I must return to the bridge for my duties. Take as long as you need, or even nap if you must.”

“Thank you.” Alone inside the room, she thought she might want to take a nap, especially after Yanna had encouraged her to do so. But after taking a shower with real water—why that felt like a rare treat she didn’t understand—and donning the slightly oversized uniform, she wanted to be back with Yanna.

Safety.

Was someone missing her? Now that her initial fear had slipped away, she wondered if there was someone who loved her, someone who was looking for her.

Or if the reason she was in the lifepod meant they were dead. Was she truly alone? Why did the possibility of Yanna leaving her somewhere fill her with fear? Was she on the run? Was she a criminal?

The guard, Pabo, smiled when she emerged from her cabin. He was friendly. She felt that from him. Yanna had told her that Pabo was his personal guard.

Can everyone feel emotions?

“I’m ready to go,” she said.

He returned her smile, but shrugged, held up his hands, and shook his head.

She suspected that was a universal sign for, “I have no clue what you’re saying.”

Pabo turned and waved at her to follow him. He led her to the bridge where Yanna sat in the command chair and directed operations. He smiled when he spotted her.

“Erin. I have something for you to listen to.” He stood and led her to a private office just off the bridge, closing the door behind them for privacy. “You had a device in your pocket when we found you. It appears to be a voice recorder. I made a copy of the recording onto one of our…” He hesitated, searching for an equivalent word. “We use them for voice notes, reading, sensors—”

“A handheld?” The word burst like a bubble from the blackness of her memory.

His eyes widened as he nodded. “That sounds like a very good word to use.” He handed her the small device and showed her how to use it.

The male voice spoke English standard. “The grav plate systems mess with your empathic senses, babe, that’s all. Combined with the jump drive…”

She closed her eyes and listened, her heart feeling like it would explode. She loved this man, whoever he was.

He said, “I’m heading to the bridge for the jump.” The sound of a kiss. “Love you, babe.”

“Love you, too, Ford.” Her own voice.

“See you on the bridge in a few.”

“Okay.”

Aaroncaphford.

She swayed on her feet and had to reach out to steady herself against the desk. The recording stopped. Yanna handed her another device. This one felt right in her hand and struck a familiar tone deep within the inky miasma of her memory.

“That is what you had with you,” Yanna explained. “I felt you should have it, but you can play the recording back on our device so the…” Another search for the word. “The batteries in your device, the power source, it is not compatible with our systems. I did not wish to ruin it trying to charge it.”

“Thank you.” She felt tears rolling down her cheeks.

He looked concerned. A matching wave of emotion flowed from him to her. “Are you all right, Erin Cafford?”

On her left hand she wore two rings. She touched them. “Was that my husband’s voice?” she whispered.

Concern shifted to sorrow on her behalf. “I do not know, lost one. All I know is what you heard. Did you remember anything?”

“Aaroncaphford.”

He slowly nodded. “In the recording, I believe the woman speaking is you. And you called the man ‘Ford.’”

She finally looked at him. “That would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

He nodded as he slid his tall body behind his desk. “Our race is currently in negotiations to sign treaties to be recognized by other treaty races. While we have never been hostile, we still must follow the ISTC protocols. We do not have communication privileges, except to declare emergencies with our ship, while in this territory. We are under orders to proceed to our initial rendezvous point at a space station, where we will pick up a diplomatic escort to take us to Mars.”

Mars! It felt like her heart raced a little, in pleasant anticipation, perhaps, at that.

He studied her reaction. “Is that familiar?”

Erin, as she was already thinking of herself, struggled to remember. “I…think so.”

“Then perhaps it is best you remain with us until then. As I said, we had originally thought to leave you at our first stop—”

“I’d rather stay here.”

He sat back and studied her. “Why?”

She had no reason to say anything but the truth. She shrugged. “Because I feel safe here.”