Homesick

It was late evening in Eindhoven when the kitchen grew into existence around Sally. She saw the green digital wall clock first. Initially, it looked as tall as she was or inches from her eyes until her mind organized the flood of artificial sensations well enough to properly judge distance and perspective. Within a few confusing moments her quarters on the ship, with all its sights, sounds and smells, was exchanged completely with their small Dutch apartment. The clock read “21:06” and the windows were almost dark, but for the orange glow of the streetlamps outside and the windows of adjacent buildings. She studied the room, letting herself drink in the familiar sensations with a relief far greater than she had expected. Home! The sheer curtains blew in the breeze, ushering in the smells of a spring evening mixed with a hint of ozone from the electric busses and the occasional whiff of diesel or gasoline exhaust. As she established her footing, she scanned the room with her eyes. She looked with disapproval at a large, white bottle open on the table and a wine glass with a dark stain at the bottom. She marched into the bedroom.

Jackie lay huddled in a lump on the small, spongy bed, wrapped in a circular crater of covers and sheets. Another bottle lay on its side on the nightstand with the shadow of a stain below its neck, where it had leaked out onto the white Formica. Sally scowled at the scene and rushed to Jackie with concern and anger. With a doctor’s attention to details, she scanned the room for evidence of pills or other abusive substances before taking Jackie firmly by the shoulders.

Jackie’s face was limp with sleep and depression. Sally reached to feel her pulse. As her eyes opened and she looked up at Sally, her face contorted with fear. She screamed, backing up against the headboard and hugging her legs in a fetal position, as if she were trying to compress her body into nothingness.

“What’s wrong?” Sally shouted, reaching out to keep her from falling.

The smaller woman shook in terror, shrinking from her touch. Her body was drenched with sweat and she was trembling. Sally could see now that she had been sleeping fully clothed.

“Jackie, what are you on? For Heaven’s sake, why do you do this?”

Jackie slowly looked her over with glistening eyes, as if challenging her to be real. “You? Is it you? Really?”

“Yes,” she assured her. “Jackie, what did you take?”

Jackie swallowed hard. “I thought you were . . . I mean why else would you . . . I thought . . .”

“Jackie, you’ve been drinking that stuff again! Did you take any pills?” She grasped her head and stared at her eyes, noting their state of dilation. She then took her by her shoulders again, holding her firmly at arm’s length. “Jackie, I need to know if you took any pills! I’ve told you, you can’t mix those things! Now, talk to me!”

“No,” she said. “No pills.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, blinking her eyes experimentally, as if expecting to see through Sally at any moment.

“How much of that did you drink? Did you drink both those bottles today?”

“There’s some left in that one,” she said, appearing to grow more sober. “I needed . . . I had to . . .”

“Why? You’ve made so much progress!”

“I thought you were dead. Are you?”

Sally stopped, surprised by her question. “No, of course not. Did you really think that? I was only gone two days!”

“So, you’re not?” Jackie asked, as if only now considering the possibility. She looked back at the bottle. “Unless . . .”

Sally sighed. “Alcohol is a depressant, not a hallucinogen. If you’re dreaming me up, you’d have to be asleep. Now, that’s assuming you didn’t take anything you didn’t tell me about.”

“If I wake up . . .”

“Enough of this!” Sally said, taking her hand and slapping it several times. “The mission was a success! We got him back! Whatever you’re thinking, it didn’t happen!”

Jackie reached out and touched Sally’s shoulders, then moved her fingers along her neck and cheek. She sobbed deeply as tears of relief rolled down the edges of her nose and onto her lips. Sally sat and cradled her in her arms, stroking her back.

“You saved Scott?” she asked through her sobs.

“Yes, we saved him . . .”

But, before she could explain further, the sound of sirens drifted through the window. At first they were faint, but quickly grew louder until they appeared to be issuing from the street just below them. Sally looked up when tires screeched outside and doors opened. She could tell there was more than one vehicle and several sets of voices. Moments later, an explosion of loud footsteps snaked up the stairs followed by a stern knock on the door. Anxious mumblings echoed in the hallway and official-sounding Dutch voices passed orders.

“Open the door!” one voice shouted in English.

Jackie stirred and buttoned her shirt. She took her key from the counter and went to the door. Sally looked on with concern, watching her fumble with the ancient mechanism. But the moment her key turned in the lock, the door was taken from her and two men entered wearing dark uniforms.

“You will come with us, Ms. Buds,” one of them demanded.

“Jackie, what’s this about?” Sally rushed in.

Jackie stared back. “I don’t know!”

“You didn’t buy drugs did you? Tell me you didn’t!”

“They’re legal here. But, you know I __”

One of the men took Jackie by the shoulders and turned her to face the door.

“No!” Sally shrieked.

But the Dutch officer ignored her so completely that it was obvious he couldn’t hear her. “Jackie, make them show you their warrant! Jackie, you have rights!”

But Jackie’s legs were still wobbly from the effects of the drink Sally could still smell on her breath. She spoke hesitantly to the officers in broken Dutch, but they ignored her almost as completely as they had Sally. Handcuffs jingled.

“Jackie, they can’t do this without a warrant!”

Now, surprised and frightened, Jackie began to struggle, looking helplessly back at Sally.

Instinctively, Sally rushed to her aid, watching in frustration as her fingers passed through the arms of the police! Their VR implants were shut off, so, to them, she wasn’t there! She stared helplessly as the two strong men escorted Jackie out of view, almost lifting her from her feet like a small animal. The door slammed loudly behind them.

“Jackie!” she yelled through the closed door.

“She won’t be harmed,” a voice said from behind.

Sally whirled around to see a young man in a blue UN uniform.

“What the hell is this about!” she yelled, advancing on the man.

He took a step back. “Orders, Sir! Just orders!”

“What orders? What has she done?”

“Sir, nothing Sir!” he stammered. “Just a precaution, Sir. She’s going to be examined. Dr. Poole’s orders, Sir,” he said, as if surprised that ‘orders’ alone was not a satisfactory explanation.

Sally grabbed the young man by his jacket and tried to shake him. “Who the hell is Dr. Poole and what business does he have here?”

“Please Sir, Captain Sir, this is an unauthorized VR transmission. Dr. Poole ordered us to quarantine __”

“Quarantine!” Sally shrieked. “Do you even know what you’re talking about? How can you quarantine VR? Do you realize how stupid that even sounds?”

“Yes, Sir,” he admitted. “But those are the orders.”

Sally let him go, sizing him up angrily. “Private, right?”

“E-six first class, Sir.”

“Are you blind, Private?”

“Sir, no Sir!”

“Then why are you calling me ‘sir’?”

“Protocol, Si . . .”

“I’m no Jane Russell or Dolly Parton, but I’m no Peewee Herman either!”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

“Now, I want you to tell me exactly who ordered you to break into this apartment and kidnap that woman!”

“Sir . . . Ma’am, Sergeant Verjans, Dutch Division, UN, Ma’am!”

“Well you tell that moron to pass a message up his chain of command!” she growled. “I’m taking this personally. You got that? And I know the law. Sooner or later heads will roll over this, and his will be included!”

“S__Ma’am, yes Ma’am!”

“By the way, Private, if VR is quarantined, why are you here?”

“Ma’am, I’m in quarantine, too, Ma’am! I’m under Dr. Poole’s personal observation!”

“Well then skip the chain of command and deliver my message directly to Poole!”

“Ma’am, yes Ma’am!”

“Now get out of here!”

“Begging your pardon, Ma’am . . .”

“What?”

“I’ve been asked to warn you not to make any more VR transmissions without Dr. Poole’s express permission. Ma’am, as captain you have the right to firsthand information and you’ll be contacted as soon as Dr. Poole feels it’s safe, Ma’am!”

“Safe? What do you mean safe?”

“I don’t know, Ma’am, I haven’t been fully briefed. I’m really just here for observation, Ma’am!”

“When I came in here that woman was very upset. Were you briefed on that?”

“Ma’am?”

“Do you know why Jackie was so scared she finished off a bottle of Frangelica and went to bed fully dressed?”

“Ma’am, no Ma’am!”

“Good bye, Private!” She worked the control on her wrist and let the room vanish.

Back in her quarters, Sally sat glumly at her console, paging through menus and screens. She scrolled casually through a stack of mail messages sitting on the display in the form of little envelopes. She discarded most of them with little interest. Then she looked thoughtfully at a particular document she didn’t recognize at first. She tapped her finger on it and it folded open. What she saw within made her face grow red. She nodded with understanding and her right hand made a rock hard fist.