Progenitor - Michael Jan Friedman [62]
“Come on,” he said, fighting off his weariness and the ache in his side. “We’re losing time.”
Wu was about to contact Lt. Chiang and see how things were proceeding down in the shuttlebay when the door chime sounded.
“Come in,” she said.
The doors slid aside, revealing Lt. Kastiigan. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but if I could have just a moment?”
Wu shrugged. “Of course.”
Kastiigan threw out his chest. “I volunteer to accompany Ensign Paris and Ensign Jiterica on the shuttlecraft.”
The offer seemed a little out of place to the second officer. However, she understood the impulse that had spurred it—or thought she did.
“I’m impressed by your scientific curiosity,” she told Kastiigan. “But rest assured, the shuttle’s sensors will record all we need to know about the phenomenon.”
“It’s not scientific curiosity that propels me,” the Kandilkari explained. “It’s a desire to serve my commanding officer, no matter how perilous that service may be.”
Wu wondered if she were missing something. “Beyond making scientific observations, what kind of service did you have in mind?”
Kastiigan shrugged. “Nothing specific. But if you should think of some way I can be of assistance on the shuttle, I hope you’ll not hesitate to order me aboard.”
“Why would I hesitate?” the second officer asked, positive now that she was missing something.
“It has been my experience,” Kastiigan said, “that my commanding officers have placed an undue emphasis on my survival. I am only a single cog in a very large and sophisticated machine.”
Wu could hardly argue with the metaphor. However, she didn’t see what it had to do with the rescue mission.
“I promise I won’t place an undue emphasis on your survival,” she told the Kandilkari. “However, considering I can’t think of any reason to send you on that shuttle...”
“I’ll stay here,” he concluded correctly, though he looked rather grim about it. “I understand.”
“Good,” said Wu, though she wasn’t sure she understood.
“Thank you for your time,” Kastiigan told her.
“No problem,” she said.
And with that, the science officer departed.
Wu expelled a breath. Kastiigan was proving to be a most interesting fellow. She resolved to learn more about him—and she decided it might as well be now, since the only alternative was to sit and wait for Chiang to complete his work.
She had begun calling up Kastiigan’s personnel file when the door chime sounded again. What now? she wondered. Was Kastiigan going to insist that she place him on the shuttle?
“Come in,” Wu said.
As it turned out, it wasn’t the science officer seeking another audience. It was Ensign Paris. And he looked troubled somehow, distracted—a stark contrast to the confident young man the second officer had seen a few minutes earlier.
“May I speak with you?” the ensign asked.
Wu nodded. “Of course. Have a seat.”
Paris sat down in the chair opposite hers and looked at his hands for a moment. Then he met her gaze.
“It’s hard to know where to begin,” he told her.
The commander knew they didn’t have much time—or rather, the people on the Belladonna didn’t. But she resisted the impulse to rush the ensign, sensing that whatever was bothering him had to come out at its own pace.
“Begin anywhere,” she said.
Chapter Nineteen
WU WATCHED THE MUSCLES WORK in Paris’s temples.
“Back at the Academy...” he said, “my very first semester, I had a class in Particle Physics. One day, our professor decided to spring a surprise test on us. I had barely read the first question on my monitor when my hands began to shake.
“They didn’t just tremble a little, Commander. They shook, as if I had some terrible neurological disorder.” The ensign winced as if in pain. “I was horrified.”
Wu had never experienced anything like what Paris was describing. However, she had no trouble imagining how uncomfortable it would have made him feel.
“I tried to hide my hands from the other cadets,” Paris continued, “in the hope that