Homesick

All three were present in the pilot’s cone when the expected message came in. Dr. Poole materialized on cue to watch with them. The monitor showed Daaarrm’s smug face as before, but thankfully this time there were no Builders taking apart the ship. All panels seemed to be in place and the ship was clean.

“We’re ready to join you,” Daaarrm said. “A friend of mine will be coming up with me.”

“No Builders,” Sally repeated, furtively clutching at her hilt for inner strength.

“Mistress Obiiilion is not a Builder.”

“Well, we’ll have to see her before I agree to anything.”

“Check for equipment,” Dr. Poole whispered. “I don’t think those helmets you described are just for show. Look for any kind of electronics.”

On the intercom they could hear the sound of the inner door hissing open. Ian zoomed back and tried to establish a useful view, but the light from outside totally overwhelmed the optics and they could see nothing. But then the light was blocked by a huge figure slowly emerging from the ladder way with tiny, deliberate steps.

“Bloody Hell,” Ian whispered. “What’s that?”

In the light of the cabin they could see the shape of a massive woman emerging into the ship, her monumental proportions taking all of them by surprise. She was so large in fact that her bulk barely fit through the open airlock and seemed to undulate in waves when she pulled herself into the room. When she was farther inside they could see two men pushing her from behind. The men were thin and had the sincere and cheerful attentiveness of the Brethren, but these were better dressed than Scott had been, each wearing a striped uniform of sorts. They positioned themselves on either side of the giantess, each taking responsibility for one of her bloated arms. Instantly, the ship was crowded. She looked up at Daaarrm with an expression that held a different kind of arrogance than his. Even in the poor lighting it was obvious there was something very dark about Obiiilion. There was a haughtiness and an impatience in her eyes that suggested she viewed everything around her as something to possess, devour, or discard as worthless. And it was even obvious that Daaarrm, though not in any of these categories, was not viewed as a friend or an equal either. Like the ship, he was a means to an end, though it was still unclear what that end was.

“Could we not take at least one of these with us?” she asked him.

“Absolutely not!” Ian said, checking to be sure the mute sign was lit. “With her onboard, I don’t know if they’ll take off at all!”

“This is Mistress Obiiilion,” Daaarrm said, motioning to her with no more loyalty or respect than she showed him. “She wanted to come along because she has a special fondness for 4702. They were very close when he was here with us.”

“I don’t know if I care to hear about that,” Ian mumbled.

The woman then began the long process of trying to navigate herself into one of the couches. Both attendants worked out the problem and began to push in the appropriate places.

“Disgusting!” Vlad said. “What a disgusting, decadent swine!”

“Don’t be so sure!” Poole said. “She may be concealing equipment. Look closely.”

“You’ve got that right,” Ian agreed. “She could hide a howitzer in that lot!”

“Ian, what’s the feasibility of this?” Sally asked. “I mean, she must weigh close to a ton even in our gravity.”

He glanced at the console displays. “According to the computer’s estimate, she’s coming in at over 600 pounds. And then there’s Darm, but he almost doesn’t count.”

“But the ship came down with just Scott before,” she reminded him.

“Aye, and it was designed to hold three.” He touched some keys on the console, gazed at the display, and finally nodded. “The old cow will make it here all right, but only just. And we’ll have to jettison the landing struts and reserve chute packs before they even take off.”

“Why do we care?” Vlad asked. “If they crash, so what?”

Sally did her best to ignore him.

The massive woman was now three quarters of the way onto the copilot’s couch, her bulk spilling over on both sides. She fumbled with the armrests while her assistants struggled to position them as widely apart as possible.

Ian scanned her body with the camera, pointing and zooming carefully. Finally, he settled on her face.

“I don’t see anything,” he admitted. “It looks like she’s just carrying . . .”

“Fat,” Poole finished for him.

“I was trying to find an appropriate word __”

“It’s appropriate,” Vlad said.

The woman’s face was equally round and bloated. Her hair looked greasy and was slicked back behind her head. She was painted differently from Daaarrm. Her eyes were not outlined but deeply shadowed, though the makeup was smeared with sweat. Her mouth appeared to be decorated, too, but they couldn’t see if her teeth had the same artwork as Daaarrm’s. Her forehead, however, displayed the same stylized half chain-link mark that Daaarrm’s had.

“They can see us, can’t they?” she asked Daaarrm.

“Yes.”

“I want to see them, too.”

“Not possible,” Daaarrm said.

“Is 4702 there? I need to talk to him.” She glanced in the general direction of the camera. “You up there! Let me talk to 4702!”

“A bossy bitch, isn’t she?”

“Vlad, please,” Sally muttered.

“Do you hear me?” Obiiilion shouted.

Sally un-muted the system. “I’m afraid Mr. Anderson is not with us now,” she said with exaggerated politeness.

“Get him!” she growled. “I won’t come unless I hear from him first! I’ll need him there to attend me!”

Sally’s remaining curiosity quickly gave way to anger. “Just what do you mean by ‘attend you?’”

“Open your eyes, idiot! I’ll need him to help me get around, see to my needs, whatever else I want! If you won’t let me bring my attendants, he’ll have to do!”

“He’ll do no such thing!” Sally flashed. “And neither will we! If you don’t like it, stay there! Nobody on this ship came across the galaxy to become your personal slave!”

Obiiilion’s face dropped. Clearly she was not used to being denied.

“I’ll also want to speak to 4702,” Daaarrm said, maintaining his smile. “After all, it was one of my requirements that he supervise our flight.”

Sally looked to Poole, who shrugged. “I’d rather not, but it might be helpful to see them interact.”

“We’ll remain here with the controls locked until we hear from 4702, Captain,” Daaarrm insisted. “It is you who are being unreasonable now to both us and him.”

Sally felt rage flush her cheeks. She muted the panel. “Ian, help me with him.”

They rose and left for the narrow hallway.

Scott didn’t move when Sally slid the door open and marched in loudly.

“My God, look at the state of him!” Ian exclaimed as he entered behind her.

The man looked even worse than he had the previous day. His face barely moved and he didn’t even acknowledge them with his eyes when they approached. Sally first looked at his IV globe and then felt his forehead. She detached the tube from his arm and threw it aside.

Ian shook his head at the shriveled face, not knowing how to begin to form a reaction to it.

“Damn right he looks like crap!” Sally shouted. “What would you expect? He won’t eat anything, he can’t get any exercise, and we have to keep him loaded with tranks to stop him from killing himself!”

“I didn’t mean anything . . .”

Sally forced a deep breath. “No, of course you didn’t, I’m not blaming you. It’s this whole damned, sick situation that’s pissing me off!” She began undoing the straps on his shoulders. “They’re playing games with us and I’ve had about enough of it! They force us to bring him out. What good is that? They know how he is! They probably even know we’ve got him tied up! Hell, they’re the ones who screwed him up in the first place! How could they not know?”

Ian grabbed her hand. “Wait a minute! Maybe that’s it! What if they give him some kind of signal? They could make him turn on us!”

“He’s already turned on us, can’t you see that?” She blinked back frustrated tears.

“But, what if they make him violent? Destructive!”

Sally put on a humorless smile and clapped him on the shoulder. “Not this time,” she promised. Then she reached into her hip pocket and pulled out a small, black disc that resembled a makeup compact. She opened it to reveal a tiny keypad. “I installed a meds pack under his left arm just before we had to restrain him. It’s loaded with enough trank to bring down five of him. Any more would probably kill him. I rigged a hot key here. I hit it anywhere on the ship and he’s out like a light.”

Ian smiled. “You’re nothing if not prepared.”

“No point in taking chances,” she said, unthreading the elastic cord that secured one of his arms to the wall.

They left Scott in his straight jacket and guided him carefully down the hall. His slippers were tied together and had no hard soles. The trip seemed to get his attention and he looked over at Sally and Ian with confusion. Poole supervised as they guided him to the seat beside the pilot’s console where Vlad had been perched. Vlad stood and let Ian take the controls. The monitor screen was blank.

“What happened?” Sally motioned towards the screen.

“I had Coronov interrupt it,” Poole said. “I want to see how he reacts when he sees the Masters. Go ahead, Coronov.”

The screen flashed to life, but it didn’t show the shuttle interior. What appeared instead was a picture of the President of the United States. He was in the middle of a speech and droned on for a few seconds before Scott even glanced at the screen.

“Next.”

At a touch of the controls, the image changed to that of a music star staring seductively from the screen. Her face was painted wildly with hologram implants and her eyes lit up with glow-in-the-dark contacts. She was cooing to an unseen reporter about her views on the future of the arts. Again, Scott didn’t flinch.

“Okay, Coronov, go ahead.”

As Obiiilion’s and Daaarrm’s faces reappeared on the small screen, Scott jerked to attention like a starving animal spotting food. His eyes bulged and he spat his breath.

“Masters!”

“Un-mute it, Ian,” Sally said.

“Masters!” Scott repeated. He wiggled himself closer to the monitor and struggled with his jacket; a feat Sally would have thought him incapable of only moments before.

“4702?” Obiiilion said with a broad smile. “Are you all right?”

He stammered wildly for words. All he managed to get out was “I . . . I . . .can’t get to . . . where you are! I want to come home! Please take me back!”

“That’s what we’re trying to do, my friend.”

“Now just a minute!” Sally interrupted. “We discussed no such thing!”

Obiiilion ignored Sally and proceeded to start eating something greasy, probably provided by one of the brothers standing guard. Her voice became muffled as she ate. “We’re in one of their ships right now, 4702,” she said with phony cheerfulness intended for his benefit. “We want to come to where you are in order to negotiate your release.” She then smiled, wiping her chin with a large napkin.

Scott nearly hyperventilated at this. “You’re coming here?”

“Yes. We’ll be there shortly.”

He turned to Sally. “You see? You see what I told you? They’re coming to help! We’re saved! We can all go be with them now!” He turned back to the screen. “Mistress, please tell them! Tell them you can take them, too!”

“It’s as we agreed, 4702. We’ll try, but it’s their decision. Let’s get you home first,” she said with a sickeningly patronizing voice, like that of a schoolteacher talking to a young child.

Scott turned to Sally. “Oh, please listen to her! If you’ll only just listen to them! This may be your only chance!”

Sally muted and turned to Poole. “How much more of this can he take?”

She paused for a moment, weighing the situation before answering. “I’m afraid it would be worse if we tried to stop them now. Anyway, this could be useful. Ask him how he knows they’re Masters?”

“Scott__”

“Call him 4702.”

Sally winced. “4702.”

He turned to her.

“Do you know those people?”

“Yes, I told you, they’re the Masters!”

“How do you know?”

He seemed surprised at her question, as if everybody knew who the Masters were. “Well, that’s Mistress Obiiilion! She comes to watch us back home. She comes almost every day!”

“Ask him about the other one.”

“What about him?” Sally pointed.

He squinted. “I don’t know that Master very well. I don’t think he comes very much. They have a lot to do, you know.”

“Do you know somebody named Darm?” she asked. “D-a-a-a-r-r-m?”

“No,” he said, becoming impatient. “What’s the point of all this, anyway? Listen to them!”

“How do you know he’s a Master?”

“Well, he just is! Why don’t you listen?”

“Maybe it’s that mark they both wear, or something in their voices,” Poole suggested.

“4702,” Daaarrm called.

Sally un-muted.

“Yes, Master . . .”

“His name is Daaarrm,” Obiiilion said.

“Yes, Master Daaarrm!”

“Where are you now?”

He looked around the cabin in confusion. “I’m back in that machine I told your Builders about! I can’t get out! I can’t get back!”

“We know you’re in the machine, 4702,” Obiiilion said. “But we need to know where in the machine you are.”

“Well. I . . .” He pivoted his head frantically.

“4702, I realize it’s hard, but you’ve got to remember. Think back to the time before. What would you have called the room you’re in now?”

His forehead furrowed and he smacked his lips. “The Pilot’s Cone. That’s it! I would have called it The Pilot’s Cone!”

“Good, 4702! Now what did you do there? Before.”

“I . . . don’t know. Here is where they . . . steered the machine. Yes.”

“How did they say?” Her eyes stared at him like glowing pools of fire from the screen.

“Here is where they flew the ship.”

Poole nodded, watching with growing interest.

“Now, remember carefully,” Obiiilion continued. “We’re in a shuttlepod on our planet. If you wanted to control it from space, could you do it from that room?”

He struggled to wrench an answer from deep within his mind. “Yes!”

“Do you see the instruments which do that?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Now, this is very important. I need you to tell me if they’re set right. Look at the readiness of the instruments. Is there anything wrong with them?”

He stared over Ian’s shoulder, wiggling and bouncing in the process.

“Untie him,” Poole suggested.

Sally bent down and unbelted his arms. He quickly used them to steady himself.

“It looks okay,” he said, unsure how he knew. “I don’t see anything wrong yet.”

“That’s what we need you to do. We’re coming to their ship. You don’t have to remember how to operate the controls. Just watch and see that the man at the controls is doing what he should be doing. If he does something you don’t think is right, you must tell us at once. Remember, 4702, if we get you back here you won’t have to worry about these things ever again. You can be home with your brothers and sisters just like before.”

Sally bridled her tongue with great difficulty, furious at Obiiilion’s taunting voice and disgusted with Scott’s drooling, puppy dog love for her.

“Remember, 4702, they don’t understand us yet and they’re not with us. They may even try to harm us because they don’t understand.”

“Okay, Obilion!” Sally interrupted. “Now are you satisfied?”

“You may proceed.”