Tranquility Lost

Chapter 5: Some Hero

"They say he's a hero?"

I stirred, rustling against the pleasant warmth of the bedsheets. Someone was talking, but that was no concern of mine. I felt a distant worry about the food supplies we'd stockpiled, but no, those were the troubles of a decade ago.

Wait, no... a century.

"Some hero. You think that's what happened at Merrit Island? Guy faints and we just haul him aboard? You know there's a statue of the prick in AgSec?"

Leather creaked. "Dunno. No telling what really happened, anyway."

I turned, blinking my eyes awake. The nausea that had been with me all this time was gone now. Two figures rose from their seats, one of them pulling a cap on. "I'll let the Colonel know he's up," he said, disappearing through a hatchway.

"Right."

Taking my bearings, I realized now that I must be in one of the Tranquility's personal berths. Perhaps not too personal, as there was a bunk bed just above me. I turned to look over at a young, bored-looking guard twiddling his fingers. He nodded at me, a mop of yellow curls nodding along as well.

"I see you're awake," he said with no particular interest.

I grunted, sliding my legs off the side of the bed. I was wearing blue pajamas, evidently, which was a marginal improvement on the jumpsuit. "That's not what happened on Merrit Island, by the way."

The guard blanched. "Oh, that was all Kyle... I didn't... you know."

"Could you tell me what happened?"

"Uh, from what I heard? Just that there was a fight against the Stimjackers. Oh, and you're not supposed to do much after you get out of a cryo bed. Ideally light duties for forty-eight hours on account of all the nausea." He glanced at me. "Did you not know that?"

"It wasn't exactly up to me. You know how it is," I said, getting to my feet and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Orders to go here, orders to go there... did they tell you to watch me inside my berth? You're crowding me, buddy."

"Um." The chair creaked again as he came to his feet. "Fine. But I know what you mean. Some of the instructors like to run freshly thawed passengers until they faint. See how far the billionaires can be pushed. It's a real puke sesh."

I rubbed my head. "That's not a phrase that should exist."

"I mean, says you," the guard muttered sullenly. Now that I was sure any lingering sickness had gone, I took a closer look at him. I'd bet an unopened bottle of Scotch that the kid wasn't even eighteen. When Anderson had talked about scraping the bottom of the manpower barrel, he hadn't been kidding. Some crib was missing its infant.

"You're damn right I said it, and I'll have a lot more to say to your CO."

That got the kid's attention. Whether it was right or wrong was one question, but there was no doubt he was the crud on the heel of the boot of whatever ranking system existed here. He scurried away to do my bidding after managing a strange imitation of a salute. As the hatchway closed behind him, I checked the closet here. There was a fresh blue security uniform in what appeared to be my size. I shrugged it on, figuring it was intended to be mine now, and finally exited the hatchway.

The smell of formaldehyde drifted all around me. Across from my berth was an open hatchway, and the words "hey, hero," wafted out with the smell of antiseptic. I blinked, then decided to enter. Inside the dim interior of a berth that looked just like my own was Corporal Narae, resting on a bed with a half-eaten plate of rations sitting on a plate. A fresh bruise blossomed along her left cheek, but she still cracked a smile as I entered.