Secrets

Unsurprisingly, Ulysses ignored my warnings. Better yet, he refused to listen to them. I requested to see him on three separate occasions in the following days. Each time, he maintained the same pithy excuse, that he was drawing battle plans with the rest of the Sunless Fleet.

This suggested to me two paradoxical interpretations. The obvious interpretation of Ulysses’s behavior was that he was slighting me for disagreeing with his plan. This was all well and good, if not expected, given my active hostility to his growing insanity. The Ulysses I knew, however, engaged with hostility in kind. This felt unlike him.

The other, and I believe more concerning, interpretation, was that Ulysses was indeed discussing battle plans without the presence of Nightwing’s crew, because he was uncertain if we would be operational by the time we reached The Black Cathedral. This set off alarm battles almost instantly. Nemura had assured us that we would waltz in and claim the Winchester Manuscript without a shot fired. So what was Ulysses planning behind closed doors?

Unfortunately, problems, as they always do, compounded upon one another. I didn’t have the capacity to think about this when Ulysses refused to even entertain my presence. I fell back on things that I could control. For the remainder of our journey into Federation controlled space, I ran practice routines with my crew.

I knew we wouldn’t be making substantial improvements to our performance in the days we had left, but everyone aboard Nightwing was on edge after Ulysses had broadcasted the next mission. I didn’t blame them. Home felt around the corner for them, but that corner was fraught with danger. We had only narrowly escaped Hadrian and had left one of our own behind.

I was no experienced captain, but even I could tell their fears had locked up their joints and minds. They were distracted. Diane’s loss was a lot closer for them than it was for me. Yet I needed the crew now more than ever. I was the new recruit; they were the veterans. As long as they were in shape and I played my part, we stood to maybe survive with a handful of deep cuts and broken bones.

“Vladimir,” I scolded. “The engines are drifting off again. The power draws are way above normal.”

“Sorry,” he murmured. “The system’s still fighting me in Bridge Mode. No offense, Elaine, but I'm still not used to the connection density.”

“Offense taken. I’ll work on it. In the meantime, fight back,” I demanded. “Stephen. What’s the status of the main gun?”

“The railgun?” Stephen asked. “Shit, the coil guards are dislodging. I’ll need the engineers to take a look at it after this run.”

I snapped Bridge Mode off.

“Guys,” I sighed. “I can’t be the one spotting these things. I know the neural traffic is thick, and it’s my fault, but Nightwing relies on core engine stability and the reliability of its main gun. If you’re going to pay attention, pay attention to that before anything else. Let’s call it a day.”

As we all departed from the bridge, I tapped Emiko on the shoulder.

“Can we talk?” I asked.

Emiko and I often conversed in the captain’s quarters after practice. I had taken her suggestion to vacate Diane’s office and officially treat myself as captain of the ship. I couldn’t help but feel that the title was poorly earned.

“It feels like it’s my fault,” I said.

“That we’re not performing up to standard?” Emiko set a cup of tea on my desk. “I suppose you aren’t entirely incorrect. But then again, this is not the first time Stephen misread the integrity readings on the main gun.”

“I also don’t feel like I’ve really earned the job.”

“You haven’t. You’re an interim captain by circumstance,” Emiko shrugged. “You haven’t earned it because you are presently in the process of earning it.”

“Fine,” I said. “Then how am I doing?”

“You are better than you think you are,” she answered, “but you’re worse than what we’ll need you for.”

“Great.”

“What’s bothering you?” Emiko asked. “It’s unlike you to act so defeated.”

“Not defeated. Just… deflated,” I snapped.

“So tell me about it.”

Something had in fact been bothering me. Emiko had acted as both advisor and confidant to me. She didn’t have to do it, but she was there when I needed her. In spite of this, I had not been forthright with her. There was still the secret of my premonitions, the visions that Diane demanded that I kept secret, the visions that foretold her demise.

Was there any point keeping my promises to the dead?

“You know,” Emiko said, “I’ve noticed some odd things about you. You’re very different from the late captain.”

“Is this another session of compare and contrast?”

“No,” Emiko replied. “Remember when I said you could find pieces of Diane in Bridge Mode?”

“Yeah?"

“Well you’re the opposite,” she explained. “You leave nothing in the neural connection. It’s almost too clean, too clinical. It’s like you combed through the cloud with a toothpick and plucked everything out.”

“I’m not doing it consciously if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Quite right. That would be too difficult to achieve on purpose,” Emiko nodded. “But consider this. Think of Diane’s residual presence in Bridge Mode as stored access memory or neural subprocesses or if we want to use more spiritual terms, an extension of her own body and soul.”

“You think her fragments helped her control Bridge Mode.”

“Well,” she explained, “it’s all theoretical. None of the Caerleon scientists who worked on Bridge Mode are here to test my theories. But yes. I do think that.”

“Not that this isn’t helpful, Emiko,” I said. “I’m just not sure how I’d even accomplish imprinting myself in the neural cloud.”

“Bridge Mode is often less about method and more about feel,” she replied. “Diane didn’t actively leave herself there. It simply happened. The question then is, why the difference between you two?”

I could see where the conversation was going from a mile away.

“You think I need to be more open with the crew?” I asked. “Do I need to open my mind or whatever they call it?”

Emiko laughed.

“No, not at all,” she chuckled. “Diane kept more secrets than all of us combined, I imagine. And I haven’t forgotten that she told you to keep that secret of yours from the rest of us, if you were feeling particularly guilty about not sharing it with me.”

Nevermind, that wasn’t where I thought the conversation was going. Emiko saw right through me.

“I was thinking there’s no reason to keep it a secret now that she’s gone,” I started. “Actually that’s not it.”

“What is it then?”

“Diane had no answers for me. She just kept saying wait and see, time will tell, wait and see until she died in front of my eyes. Now that she’s gone, I’m left with something big. And it’s up here, Emiko, in my brain. Is it the reason why there’s a vacuum in the cloud? Is that why the neural density is way above normal? I don’t know. It’s possible, but am I supposed to just not talk about it?”

“She must have had reasons.”

“Maybe those reasons are why she’s dead.”

“Elaine…”

Screw it. Screw Diane, I wasn’t doing this anymore.

“I have premonitions, Emiko,” I blurted. “After my first experience in Bridge Mode, I received a vision. Later, I received more. I didn’t realize it then, but they were premonitions about Hadrian, about Diane’s death.”

Emiko didn’t look surprised. I had come to expect this from her. She furrowed her brow the moment she realized I was serious.

“Diane was right,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t have told this to anyone.”

“Well, she’s not here to scold me now, is she?”

“Have you had more of these visions?”

“No,” I shook my head. “The last one was above Hadrian.”

“This could be the reason Bridge Mode is so unstable with you at the helm,” Emiko sighed. “If your mind is capable of some kind of cognitive or psychic phenomena, telepathy for instance, who knows what that does to Nightwing?”

“You make it sound like you know others with these kinds of powers.”

“I don’t. I'm just choosing to believe you about having seen the future.”

“Well, now you have your why,” I said. “Why Diane and I are different.”

“True,” Emiko nodded. “Maybe that’s what we needed. Can you control this ability”

“No. It’s completely arbitrary.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Emiko replied. “The visions themselves, yes, are perhaps random in nature.”

“But they predicted–”

“It’s not about predictions, Elaine,” Emiko cut me off. “You have to think about the bigger picture. You think the reason why Diane told you to keep this a secret was because you had a select few visions that seemingly predicted the future. I would bet my accrued imperial salary that wasn’t why she was concerned.”

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “What else could she be worried about?”

“You have to ask yourself the right questions,” Emiko said. “It’s not about what you saw, Elaine, it’s how you saw it. Think about it. You just told me that your mind is capable of seeing intrusive imagery about the future. I don’t care that it’s about the future. I care that your mind was able to even process it.”

“What are you saying?” I asked. “You think I have some kind of… super brain?”

“I wouldn’t venture to say you have superpowers,” Emiko shrugged. “But think about the utility. If what you say is true, and your mind is capable of unpacking raw, dense information into comprehensible visual imagery–”

“You’re talking about Bridge Mode,” I gasped.

“I am talking about Bridge Mode.” Emiko smiled. “Now we both need to take your secret to our graves. Scientists are going to want to vivisect you for study.”

It felt like the first breakthrough in a long time. I could see the path forward at least. Heavy weights felt like they were being lifted from my spirits. Even the unease concerning the responsibility of leadership seemed inconsequential.

“Thanks,” I said. “I don’t think this was your intention, but it really helped that you were here to listen.”

“Of course,” Emiko smiled. “I’m always here for you.”

Something inside me melted. I wanted to pull Emiko in for a kiss. I wasn’t sure why a hug or a firm handshake was not sufficient to show my appreciation, but the first thought that came to mind was to press my face into hers.

But if there was anything I had learned while aboard the Sunless Fleet, it was that short, fleeting moments of levity were never meant to last. Alarms once again blared across Nightwing’s deck. This time however, when the intercom activated, out came the smooth, calculated, and poisonous tunes of Nemura’s voice.

“Attention, everyone. We are now approaching The Black Cathedral.”