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18 - SI HAIDAO

18 - SI HAIDAO

I had an entire year to think about how badly I screwed up my last night on Ananke Station.

It was a long journey to the target. I drifted in and out of consciousness for what might have been minutes or days. There was no light, we had outrun it. Early in the mission, I suffered from hallucinations, phantasmic fractals my mind generated to protest against the darkness unending. But my subconscious grew lazy, and afterward, there was only black.

The ship could sense I was awake and attempted to administer sedatives, but they were increasingly ineffective. Even as a massless aberration, hurtling through a pocket of null-space, I was still an insomniac. There was nothing to do but dwell on my mistakes, drifting in the black diamond of my space-womb.

Every two hundred hours, there was a squadron alignment. Our cockpits would begin to bioluminesce and administer a stimulant, rousing us from slumber. The alarm light shifted from red to green as we woke. When the color shift completed, we had to quickly correct our position and align our ships into the tight jump-ring formation. We flew in a belly-out circle, with our cockpits facing each other. I could see the pale and tiny faces of the other prisoners in the firefly green glow. There was nothing beyond our ships, only the absolute black of null-space.

Our orders were to maintain thirty-three meters from cockpit to cockpit. Some subtle force dragged our ships apart, wrenching us inexorably towards the edge of the null-space bubble. We’d been warned that drifting to the edge meant eternal suffering. At the center of the bubble there was a particle stream that reacted with our canopy lights and became visible. This was the guiding light we used to orient ourselves.

Those brief alignments helped me to keep from going mad in the dark. The sight of human faces was like water in the wasteland. Our canopies were linked to our interfaces. The phase-diamond hull would reshape as we focused, like a second lens of our own eyes.

If I wanted to, I could telescope until I could count Murderess’s enlarged pores or Corrupt’s individual nose hairs. We all rushed to align our ships as quickly as possible so we could have more time to look at each other.

A few times, I tried signaling to the others using fist-palm code, but none of them knew Morse. Liar and Addict made a few abortive attempts to communicate by drawing letters in the air, but there was so little time to get the message across. Finally, we gave up and stared at each other, amazed at how terrible we all looked.

Murderess was the worst. She was losing weight. I suspected there was something wrong with her ship. Dark patches formed on her skin, while the rest of us had become pale as ghosts. Addict looked like he was in pain all the time. At first, I thought it was just withdrawal from the LDSM, but he never seemed to get better.

No one had any kind looks for me, and I didn’t blame them. We would have only a few minutes to gaze at each other before the ships darkened, casting us into a two- hundred-hour lightless abyss. I longed to see the others now. I could have stared at those four faces for hours. Strange to think I used to hate the sight of them.

I had nothing but time to dwell on it.

When I arrived at the briefing hall the night before the mission, the other inmates were already at attention. Tsuros was waiting for me.

“Where the fuck were you?” Tsuros demanded.

“Detour to the latrine, sir!” I said. I wasn’t lying.

Tsuros stared at me for sixty seconds. I don’t think anyone in the room drew breath for the entire minute. It was the biggest gamble I had ever taken.

“Get your shit together, idiot,” Tsuros hissed at last.

The briefing wasn’t long. At the end, I could feel the other inmates side-eying me. They all wanted to know if this was some sick joke. I could only stare at Tsuros, my whole being inflamed by the audacity of his plot.

They were bringing in a UNESECA ringship, I’d been right about that. But everything else was beyond my capacity to imagine. The mission was madness.

Tsuros was utterly insane.

Yet, I had to admit, the idea had a certain doomed charm. It was better than anything I could have come up with in his position. Tsuros had created a billion-to-one, bat-out-of-diyu, Hail Shèngmǔ long shot. Literally, the greatest long shot of all time.

His plot whispered to me with the dubious promise of a lottery ticket. What if it paid off? Every day, for as long as I could remember, I had woken up expecting to be executed. Death had become drab. I had nothing to lose.

I have to confess, in that moment, he truly had me. Tsuros had set my hands at the throat of history. I could feel destiny pulsing beneath my fingers. All I had to do was squeeze.

I was all-in. I regretted my little detour. If the drills found out, they would have to execute me, best pilot or not.

After the briefing, Tsuros dismissed us to early chow. We shambled our way through the halls, trying to wrap our minds around the mission. Each of us mouthed the same idiot denials, shaking our heads.

“A star. A fucking star,” Pirate muttered. None of us could come up with anything better. The six of us didn’t even fill a single table in the empty cavern of the mess hall. There was a single drill assigned to watch us. He was almost asleep on his feet.

The last solid meal of our lives was the same gritty, gray-yellow mash we’d eaten morning and night since the supply ships stopped. But there was a surprise. Each of us was given a single square of blueberry gelatin topped with a dollop of whipped cream.

Dessert!

I stared at it, an astonished, wide-eyed orphan. With a trembling hand, I rocked the little dish, watching the blue cube wobble. I prodded at it with a fork, I sniffed at it. The others did the same. We couldn’t believe our luck. I decided I would wait until after I choked down my mash so the taste would stay in my mouth longer.

Of course, Addict couldn’t wait. He slipped a spoonful into his mouth, and his eyelids fluttered.

“That’s sweeeet!” he moaned. Addict rolled the gelatin around in his mouth and smacked his lips with porcine delight. I expected him to get maudlin soon, blubbering about how Glutton would have loved this.

Instead, he sniffed. Addict circled his tongue and sucked his teeth. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. Corrupt had just picked up a spoon when he noticed Addict’s peculiar motions. We all waited to see if Addict was about to keel over.

“Pretend to eat. He’s looking,” Addict said under his breath. I ate a spoonful of the gritty nutrient mash. The others made similar motions. “I think it’s LDSM,” Addict whispered. “If you want to stay awake tonight, don’t eat it.”

I’d never tried it, but I knew all about LDSM. Ligdinshymium was popular on Ring 5, among the sort of people who would take cryosleep sedative if no other drugs were available.

“Why would they drug us? They’ve already carved us up,” Liar protested, tapping the hood interface ports at his temples.

“They’re putting us to bed, that’s all. Doping us to keep us from doing anything stupid tonight,” Murderess reasoned. She threw a glance at Pirate.

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Pirate was too busy frowning at his gelatin to notice. With a deep sigh, he pushed the tray away.

“Don’t let the drill see that,” I said in between mouthfuls of mush. “They’ll strap you down and inject you if they have to.”

Pirate nodded quickly. Of course, they would.

“How do we get rid of it?” Pirate asked. “I don’t want to be drugged.”

“I do,” Addict said. He finished off his gelatin with gusto. “Anyone who doesn’t want theirs, I’ll take it.”

“Will that—” Corrupt began, then he couldn’t force the words out. The anti-suicide conditioning was powerful. But Addict shook his head.

“Tolerance,” Addict said. He tapped two fingers at the crook of his arm.

“Don’t be stupid. He just wants your desserts,” Liar protested.

“Eat some then,” Addict said. “Just don’t be surprised when you black out.”

I could already see Addict’s pupils expanding. But Liar couldn’t trust anyone. He took a bite.

“Tastes like blueberry to me.”

“Suit yourself,” Addict shrugged.

I was torn. I wanted to eat the dessert. It had been so long since I’d tasted anything that wasn’t disgusting. The quivering blue cube promised sweet oblivion. But I’d taken too many chances today. I couldn’t risk being unconscious tonight.

I waited until the Drill’s eyes drooped towards the floor, then dumped my gelatin onto Addict’s plate.

“Enjoy,” I whispered.

He did. I had to watch that ugly bastard eat all five of our desserts. Still defiant, Liar finished his own. It took less than five minutes for us to confirm that Addict was right. Liar’s eyes rolled, his head lolled, and he could barely finish his mash. Addict watched him with a knowing smile. Even at six times the dose, he was in better shape than Liar. Tolerance was a virtue.

When I got up to bus my tray, I let my head hang forward, affecting a slight zombie shuffle to my gait. The others noticed and took my cue. Liar didn’t need to act. He barely made it back to his bunk.

“Lightweight,” Addict crooned with an easy smile. That was the only time I ever saw Addict look serene.

Forfeiting our desserts was a mistake. Addict was propped up in his bunk like a fiend in an opium den, grinning at us through heavy-lidded eyes. Liar was totally gone, dead to the world and drooling. We’d been ordered to our bunks and the lights were out. There was nothing to do but wait in the red silence.

Corrupt tried to talk, but our minds were too wet with worry for conversation to catch. Pirate seemed so sad and distant that I regretted what I’d done to him. I hoped he wouldn’t find out. Murderess tossed and turned, possessed by some restless energy. I wasn’t surprised when I saw her creeping over to Pirate’s bunk.

There was a quick exchange, then she returned to her bunk with scornful steps. Rejected. Soon after, she rose again. This time she went to Corrupt’s bunk. The two slipped into the latrine, and Pirate and I had to listen to every sordid squelch and sigh. It didn’t take long. Corrupt slithered back to his bunk, furtive as a schoolboy. He turned his face to the wall.

Murderess emerged from the latrine, disappointment plain on her face. My interest quickened. I expected her to go rub Pirate’s nose in what she’d done. But instead, she crept over to my bunk.

“Do you want to try with a real woman?” Murderess offered.

My heart pounded. She reeked of sex, and her voice was sultry. But it was the despair in her face that turned my screws, her wretched need. Corrupt hadn’t been enough for her. What did she expect from a bureaucrat? I was more of a man than him. I throbbed with ardent desire to turn the knife in all three of them at once.

But I refused.

“No.”

Anger blazed in her eyes. Murderess spun away and stalked over to Pirate, but he hissed something vile at her. For a second, she stood over him with her fists balled and her chest heaving. She looked like she was about to scream. Instead, she went back to her bunk and sobbed into her pillow.

I regretted my decision immediately, but the moment had passed. The four of us languished in the red dark, each desperately unhappy in our own way. Finally, it was Pirate who rose, taking resigned steps towards the latrine.

My revenge was at hand.

Before Pirate even had the screws off the vent, I knew I’d made a mistake. Vengeance was as bitter in my mouth as drugged gelatin. All I could do was lie there in the red, listening to the increasingly desperate sounds of Pirate fishing with the short-handled mop.

An anguished cry rang out in the latrine. He couldn’t find his little sculptures. The rest of the squadron tensed. Pirate was too loud. He was going to bring the drills down on top of all of us.

“They’re GONE!” Pirate howled.

I had expected him to weep, to get mad, to accuse me, and maybe throw a punch. Not to bellow in the latrine like a madman and get us all killed. But he’d gone insane, Pirate stormed around the barracks, waving his hands at the empty bunks.

“THEY’RE GONE!” he shouted again, flipping over an empty bunk.

I’d broken him.

Boots thundered towards us in the corridor. I had only one option, pretend to be drugged and play dead. Through my closed eyelids, I could see the barrack lights blaze on. At once, two drills barked at Pirate to shut up. But he wouldn’t. He raved on and on.

“They’re gone! All gone! Venus, Guernica, Celestine! All my friends! All my work! My life! IT’S ALL FUCKING GONE!”

I could hear the drills beating him, heavy fists slamming into flesh, but he wouldn’t shut up.

“GONE!” he wheezed. One of them must have hit him in the stomach.

“GONE!” The hollow sound of his skull banging against a bunk-post.

“GONE!” Pirate cried once more, and then a sound from the corridor silenced him. Everyone was still, even the drills. Familiar boots were headed our way.

Tsuros.

There was a terrific scramble. I think Pirate tried to get away. One of the drills cried out. I couldn’t resist peeking. Pirate had bitten the drill’s hand. He was bleeding. In response, the drills kicked Pirate savagely and stomped him into the deck.

“Get off him! What the fuck is going on in here?” Tsuros bellowed. Only Liar didn’t wince.

“He bit me, sir!” I recognized the voice, Liu, one of the new drills. His back was to me, but I could tell he cradled his hand. Pirate had taken a chunk out of him.

“Psychotic reaction,” the other drill suggested.

“Since when are you a doctor, Ives? Pick this trash off my deck.”

Ives hoisted Pirate up by his collar, dangling him so his toes just barely touched the floor.

“Pirate! Are you done crying? Do I need to sing you a bedtime song?”

“You murdered them!” Pirate hissed. “Glutton, Charlatan, Agitator, Drunk Two. You murdered them!”

“Those inmates murdered themselves by fucking up. Do you want to join them? You’re hours away from your mission. Don’t be an idiot,” Tsuros warned.

But Pirate was beyond fear and reason.

“It’s all gone! The fleet vanquished! Ahklys snuffed! You’re all dead!” Pirate howled.

The foolish words hit Tsuros like a slap. He lunged forward, clasping his hand around Pirate’s windpipe. With one arm, he lifted Pirate into the air, cranking down hard. Pirate’s eyes bulged, and he clawed at Tsuros, trying to break his grip. But Tsuros’ fingers were sunk in like a serpent’s fangs.

I watched spellbound as Pirate kicked and writhed and finally went limp. When the dying was through, Tsuros dropped him to the deck with bony clack of skull against metal. The barracks filled with the stench of voided bowels.

“This prisoner suffered a psychotic break and began reciting collaborator propaganda. Ives, Dispose of him in lock five. Liu, mop this shit up.”

“Sir, my hand,” Liu protested. The bite was deep. He leaked blood everywhere.

“Don’t you have another hand?”

“Yes, sir.”

I shut my eyes and feigned unconsciousness as Tsuros turned towards me. I felt his stare. There was a hunch building at the back of my neck. It took all of my will to keep from shuddering. I battled to keep my breathing steady.

I listened to the sounds of Ives dragging Pirate away. The water ran in the latrine, probably Liu washing out his bite. Then I could hear him awkwardly swabbing the deck. When he exited the barracks, he left the lights on.

Tsuros was still there.

All night, I waited for Tsuros to leave, but he never did. He might have stared at me the whole time, but I didn’t dare crack an eye. I was certain his eyes would be centimeters from mine, that the next thing I would feel would be his hands wrapping around my neck. I had to remain motionless for hours. My muscles screamed with tension. Sleep was impossible.

Why did I do it? All he’d done was run his mouth. He was Pirate, what did I expect? I was fool for trusting him and a fiend for shoving his little statues deep into the pipe where he couldn’t reach them. For the six most uncomfortable hours of my life, I dwelled on it. One by one, I summoned up feeble excuses.

He shouldn’t have told my secret, we were doomed anyway, I couldn’t have known he’d go crazy.

I couldn’t fool myself. I’d killed Pirate, sure as if I’d strangled him myself. I should have forgiven him. I should have fucked Murderess. I should have eaten that dessert.

“You can stop pretending,” Tsuros said at last. His voice was dry as sand. “Time to fly.”