IT HAD BEEN A LONG, GRUELING FIRST WEEK. IT SEEMED LIKE THEINFIGHTING would never end, crewmen were constantly being insubordinate, therewere several who seemed to think the ship should be as foul as their ownpersonal hygiene, and he was feeling more and more like a single parent withundisciplined children. Did Old Mother Hubbard ever feel like this?

To get his mind off of it, he decided that today he would removehis parent’s books from his personal library. The lack of concentration allowedhis mind to wander back to the several hours he and Jackie talked at the edgeof Beaver’s pond in the Catacombs. He’d had a couple Sileriums with split personalitiesbut they had all been telepaths and he believed their psyche fractured to dealwith the onslaught of voices that never ceased. However, Jackie said she wasn’ta telepath and he hadn’t seen any tell-tale signs to contradict that statement.She didn’t react to an event before it happened or avoiding situations andplaces because she knew something bad was going to happen. There was nothing inher file to indicate she had ever seen a therapist or psychiatrist about hersplit personality disorder, but then again, when he mentioned it to Jackie,Joan showed up and gloated about how she had been smart enough to delete thoserecords before they applied for Merchant Raitor.

Tru stopped moving when a thought hit him.

“Gracie.”

Yes, Truman?

“Who is my head surgeon?”

Master Equ’Wixal or Doctor Wixal.

“Where is he?”

He is currently in Sickbay.

“Ask him to come to my study regarding a private matter.”

Requesting now. He has approved and will be here shortly.

Tru continued mentally working on the problem, losing trackof time. He glanced at the door when the doorbell beeped, quickly recalling hisrequest to see the doctor.

“Enter,” Tru said.

The door cleared and Q’al entered. He stopped, lookingaround the room.

“Was this your father’s study?” Q’al asked.

Tru smiled. “Yes. Did you know my father?”

Q’al walked up to the stack of books, looking across thetitles on the spines. “I met him a few times, but I wouldn’t say that I knewhim. I visited the ship’s library and was surprised to replace so many paper booksalongside reading nodules. Was he the reason you decided to keep the librarythat way?”

“I would say yes. I learned a lot in those old books.”

Tru added a stack to the pile sitting on a small transportpad. “Gracie, transport these to the librarian’s desk.”

You are transporting your parent’s personal books from your study?

“I am.”

Tru, perhaps—

“Gracie, don’t give me a hard time. Just do it.”

She didn’t answer.

“Grace.”

Transporting. The booksdisappeared.

Q’al watched Tru to see if he reacted to the terse, upsettone in the computer’s reply, but he didn’t appear to notice. He walked to thebar and poured a drink.

“Would you like a drink, Doctor?”

“Gin and tonic, please. Does Gracie always give people ahard time? There have been a few times today she instigated a debate orargument over a command I issued.”

“She’s been that way for as long as I can remember.”

Tru handed Q’al his drink and walked to the sitting area, settlinginto one of the wingback chairs.

“Join me.” Tru motioned to the other furniture.

Q’al sat down in the chair across from him and sipped hisdrink. “A very good drink, Captain. Have you moonlighted as a bar tender?”

“No. It’s one of my brother’s favorite drinks.” Tru crossedone leg over the other. “Have you met our ship’s psychiatrist? A Yeoma, Ibelieve.”

“Doctor Hachee Arighet. I served with her about twenty yearsago. It’s been refreshing catching up with her.”

“I’ve only been able to speak with her for a few minutessince we left spaceport. Her credentials are impressive.”

“Indeed. But then…” Q’al smiled at his drink. “So is ourhuman psychiatrist’s.”

“I’m afraid I can’t keep myself too far from my practice,even as a captain. I’ve debated telling the crew.”

“You should tellthem. They might feel more comfortable telling you about things before they get into fights.”

“Perhaps. Since you brought that up I’m one of the ship’s psychiatriststhat should help get us past the red tape on the request I need to make.”

Q’al lowered his glass to his lap, noting the serious tonein Tru’s voice.

“Which would be?

“I want to review Ensign Jackie Rhoades’ medical records.”

“For what reason?”

“Jackie has split personality disorder and she told me thatone of her personalities deleted her medical records before joining MerchantRecords. I want to see if any information was missed.”

“I can forward you all those records, but bear in mind,Captain, she is a Silerium.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve treated some.”

“Yes, which is why I don’t understand your remark.”

“They may be human, but the mutations they’ve gone throughhave made them very unstable. There may be no curing her. Most psychiatrists Iknow don’t even take them on as patients because they don’t believe there isany way to help them.”

“So you’re suggesting I should abandon her because she’s a Silerium? Let herdisorder go untreated because you don’t feel a Silerium should receive the samemedical treatment a Drasken with split personality disorder?”

“I’m simply saying that by nature they are emotionallyvolatile and unpredictable.”

“Are you referring to Sileriums with this disorder or allSileriums?”

“Most that I’ve encountered have been difficult to dealwith. I’ve served with Ensign Rhoades before and she causes problems.”

“So you know quite a few Sileriums?”

“I have been a doctor for nearly fifty years, Captain. I’vetreated my share.”

Tru fell silent, staring at Q’al. He was disturbed by Q’al’sracist views on Sileriums, but he had to be more tactful with him.

When Tru didn’t continue right away, Q’al realized thatperhaps his captain was a Silerium sympathizer, which meant he hadmisunderstood the conversation entirely. He wasn’t asking Q’al if he thought heshould treat Jackie’s disorder. It struck Q’al a little strange though. Mosthumans weren’t sympathizers, and even if they were, they weren’t easilyoffended by his negative opinion of Sileriums.

Carefully choosing his words, Q’al asked, “I’m afraid Idon’t understand the direction our conversation is going. Could you perhapsenlighten me about your views on the topic?

Tru shifted in his chair and sipped his drink. “Have youever read the entire records of a crewman? Both service and medical?”

“When something comes up, I usually do.”

“You should do it as an occasional past time, just to becomefamiliar with your potential patients. I’ve found it is very helpful,especially before an emergencyarises. Why don’t you start with mine? And could you transfer Jackie’s recordsto me in the morning? Good night, Doctor Wixal.”

Q’al was worried. The quick dismissal was an unmistakableindication that the conversation had angered Tru. “It’s Q’al, sir, and did I dosomething wrong?”

Tru smiled, but it held no charm. It was meant to dismissQ’al and suggest he should leave without question. “I have work to do. You’redismissed, Doctor.”

Q’al stood, setting his glass on the coffee table in frontof him. He walked to the door, resisting looking back.

Tru watched him leave, sipping his drink. He leaned back inhis chair, putting his feet up on the coffee table.

“He was rude,” Graciesnarled.

Tru smiled a little. “Yes, he was. How about we listen to myangry playlist to get our minds off of it?”

From hidden speakers, a strong guitar rift began, eruptinginto a hard rock song.

Q’al didn’t want to admit it, but he was lost. He wasn’teven sure how he’d gotten so lost. He’d left Tru’s study and knew, or thoughthe knew, exactly where his quarters were. But clearly he didn’t, because noneof the halls or numbers next to the doors were familiar to him. He stoppedoutside a door and held his hand up to the biometric pad. Nothing happened.

Doctor Q’al, you have entered anunauthorized area, Gracie informed him.

Q’al exhaled a breath, venting his frustration with theimpossible computer. He guessed that was why it sounded like she was beingsnide.

“I’m sure am. Direct me back to my quarters.”

You must leave immediately.

“Give me directions.”

You should know the directions.

Q’al stopped short. He looked at an intercom panel down thehall. “Who said that?” he asked.

There was no reply.

“Gracie, do you detect any other biosignatures in my area?”

Only you and you are not authorized to be in this area.

Q’al rolled his eyes. “Yes. I know that. Can you transportme out of here?”

Transport restrictions will not be lifted until tomorrow.

“Gracie, transport me or give me directions back to myquarters.”

You’re supposed to be smart. How can you possibly be lost?

Q’al’s eyes narrowed. That was definitely a tone of sarcasm.“Am I talking to a computer?”

Yes.

“Then why would you ask me if I’m really lost or have anattitude?”

Instead of answering, the computer replied, I’vedispatched a security droid to escort you to an authorized area.

“Don’t you knowhow to get me back to an authorized area?”

Yes.

“Give me the directions and cancel the security droid?”

No, Gracie snipped.

Q’al was surprised by the response and he felt foolish whenhe realized he was arguing with a computer. “I cannot be talking to a computer.Who are you?”

A security droid came around the corner, the single red baracross its ‘head’ glowing bright.

I no longer have any respect for you. Follow this droid or theonly place I’m transporting you is to a Brig cell!

“Who is this? Who’s pulling this prank?”

There was no reply.

“I asked you a question, Gracie. Respond.”

Gracie didn’t respond. He looked at the droid. It was amachine that didn’t care about the situation one way or the other.

“Escort me back to my quarters,” Q’al told it.

“Follow me,” the droid’s disinterested, computerized voicereplied and it marched away.

Q’al followed.

Part of him was sure that the voice had been someone playinga prank on him, but his irrational side said it wasn’t. He and several cargogrunts – crewmen responsible for moving and keeping an eye on the cargo – haddrinks the night before in celebration of the first week out of spaceport andthat their captain had so far been a decent one, which was rarity in itself. Asthe spirits slowly took over, the conversation changed to the gossip and ghoststories that surrounded Prosperous.He learned that the ship was well known among the grunts for both good and badreasons.

They talked about how fast she was and that her systems werekept up-to-date with the most cutting edge technology. The late Doctor Barnethad contributed a lot to space exploration and the sciences with her. Therumors said that she had been built faster than any ship before, or after, her.These were the good stories.

Then they talked about the ship’s battle stories. She wassaid to be the quickest ship known to any race. Some said that the late CaptainBarnet often let the computer take control during attacks and that the computerseemed to have artificial intelligence.

Some said the main processor, Gracie, was actuallytechnology from another realm, or an unknown part of the universe, or fromhumans in the far, far future. Others said that the ship wasn’t really a shipat all, but a large life form that just looked like a ship, and she needed afull crew because she ate one a week.

Of course, these were just irrational ghost stories.Irrational ghost stories that made Q’al keep looking over his shoulder until hewas safely in his own quarters.

10 May 2520

Therewas a growing concern among the Lunar colonies about the increasing number ofbabies being born with psychic abilities. When the miners began to threaten astrike and demand the mining corporations help protect their children from thisfate, Lunar colony Governor, Steve Parish, issued a statement:

“These birth defects created by the Sileriumdust are a shame, but [the miners] were aware of the risks when they took theirjobs. They knew full well what they were getting themselves into. There isn’t acorporation in existence that doesn’t tell miners – male and female – whatexposing unborn fetuses to this dust will do. If the miners continue toprocreate in the Lunar colonies, they do so at their own risk. If the womencontinue carrying their babies to term, they do so at their own risk. We willcontinue offering government funded abortions, but we will not be harassed intoproviding services for miners beyond that. If you don’t like what happens here,go back to Earth or your own colony.”

Thisstatement sparked a strike that lasted for almost ten months. It ended withoutany of the miner demands met.

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