The Impressionist

Chapter 6

This was a dangerous area to be in when the ship was underway. The power needed to send a craft barreling across the galaxy was astounding and could be instantly fatal to a human wandering unknowingly into the wrong area. There were no lifts in this part of the ship, just bare grated stairs, ramps and railings. Jen kept her eyes open for the safest route as she worked her way lower and lower, down to the bowels of the ship. The shuttle bays should be located on the lowest level. A shop of this size was sure to have three or four small shuttles. Jen was going to borrow one at the earliest opportunity. If she could get inside one and lock the door behind her before she was detected, she’d have a chance of escape.

She reached the bottom level without mishap. She had been expecting someone to try and access the interior halls through a different level and chase her down. Perhaps they were simply aware of the dangers in here and weren’t willing to risk a crew member. In fact, they were probably counting on the hope that she had been fried to a crisp by now. She cautiously made her way past a power conductor and some serious communications hardware.

She stopped for a moment, surprised by the sight of the awesome piece of machinery. It was the most complex system she had ever seen. Her fingers itched to open it up to get a closer look. It was more sophisticated that the cutting-edge communications systems at Control’s offices on Earth. The range must be incredible, she thought. She memorized as much detail as she could absorb in her current situation. She made a mental note to inform her superior that Shurock had some new equipment to be studied. Maybe she could wiggle her way into another Shurock assignment. She shook her head, first things first… she had to get out of here!

She studied the schematic laid out on the wall in the lower level. The door closest to her should be the one leading to the shuttle bay. She went to it and prepared to run when it opened. She gave the command to unlock it using Edin’s voice once again. She almost ran into the closed door when it didn’t slide open as expected. Well, maybe some smart tech had overridden the voice codes. Once again, she dropped to her knees and felt along the base to access the hidden panel there. She tapped out her backdoor code and stood up expectantly. She was shocked to see that the door was still tightly shut.

Jen grimaced. Perhaps she has used the wrong code in her haste. She bent down again and carefully entered the correct sequence. Looking up, a knot tightened in the pit of her stomach. She was trapped. Somehow, someone on this ship knew about the code that she had used and had neutralized it, a possibility that had never occurred to her.

Jen bit the inside of her lip. She was back on the defensive and it didn’t look good for her. They could be planning on leaving her in here for days, or even weeks. She’d starve.

‘Don’t panic, Jen,’ she said to herself. ‘There has to be something else you can do.’ She was feeling so overwhelmed that rational thought was leaving her once again.

Jen leaned back against the door and slowly, she slid down it to a crouched position. What was she doing here? Who was she anyway? Barefaced and trapped in the belly of a ship with no personality to put on, no allies, and headed God knows where. Panic started to set in. She felt helpless, sad, lonely, and then angry. She sat for about five minutes, head in hands, mentally railing against the universe and her pitiful life. Pulling herself out of the downward spiral, Jen removed her hands from her face. She ought to, at least, try some other doorways. Maybe she could find some tools so she could manipulate the inner workings of a doorway. If not, some not so subtle sabotage might get their attention. She wasn’t completely powerless. She could derail a few ship systems. And then, if she ever got to the point of being suicidal, she could do a whole lot more damage than that. Though it would take a lot to drive her to that point.

“Hello there,” said a voice from a dark corner.

She struggled to her feet and stood, staring at the dark hulking figure. She feigned to the right and the shadow moved with her. Jen’s back was to the locked door and this man was blocking her access to the corridor. There was no where to run. He had cut off her only escape route and he knew it.

He stepped out of the shadows. Jen’s jaw dropped as she realized that she recognized him. It was the man from the shuttle bay who had been with the boy who had knocked her down. His voice was also the same as the man who had gone to her room/prison with Edin. Jen surmised now that this man was the Captain of the ship.

“You know a few tricks, don’t you” he said. “We have a lot to talk about, you and I. My name is Connor.” He reached out a hand in greeting, as if to shake her own, and took another step toward her.

She stared at him. Did he recognize her from the shuttleport? He took another step forward and Jen tensed, her body taking a defensive stance automatically, ready to fight.

“No, don’t move. It’s okay,” he crooned with one hand out, palm up to show he had no weapon. He continued in the sing song voice, as if talking to a frightened child. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He put his other empty hand out as well, his head slightly down. She could see that he was trying to look non-threatening, but was it sincere? As he took yet another step closer to her, Jen slumped her shoulders as if she was accepting defeat. She angled herself so that her side was to the door so that she had open space at her back. Jen dropped her head to one side as she meekly put out her own hands to show that she was unarmed and to greet him. As he moved forward to take her hands in his, she rotated her wrists to grab ahold of his forearms. She used all of her weight, rolling onto her back, using his own forward momentum to pull him with her. She planted her feet on his stomach and heaved with all of her leg strength to flip him into the wall behind her.

 She was on her feet in an instant. He was struggling to his knees. If this worked, she just might make it. Jen cleared her throat and, using this man’s voice, gave the door code that she had heard him use in the corridor outside what had been her room, coping his exact inflection and intonation. She barely registered his look of shock as the door slid open easily. Jen took off at a dead run into the wide-open shuttle bay. Her eyes scanning wildly for good escape prospects.

There was a shuttle with its door wide open to her left. She adjusted her course, heading straight for it. Jen steaked across the large bay area, covering a great distance in a short amount of time. She was a fast sprinter. She was attracting attention, but there didn’t seem to be anyone close enough to her to reach her before she got to the shuttle. Just four meters from the shuttle door, she was tackled from behind. It was entirely unexpected and she fell at an uncontrollable speed. She didn’t have time to raise her hands to protect herself and with someone’s arms wrapped around her legs, she couldn’t even twist her body to roll out of the fall safely. Jen heard, rather than felt, the c***k of her head against the hard floor.

Connor had heard it too. He called for some med-techs to report to the scene. He knelt over her, gently probing as what was sure to be a colorful bruise for weeks to come. He had recovered quickly after she had opened the door with what had sounded like his own voice and private code. She was fast. He’d give her that. But he had grown up winning foot races on Hesperia, a colony based on a heavy gravity planet. Even back then, he had never met anyone who could beat him in an honest sprint race. He had a great advantage in lighter gravity.

Connor hadn’t meant to tackle her so hard. They had both been running at their top speeds and he hadn’t been able to control the fall. She looked so little and frail when he had cornered her in the interior hallway. He had been completely caught off guard by her skilled maneuvering back there. Next time, he wouldn’t underestimate her.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, as she tried to lift her head. This time, Jen was inclined to obey him. Her head was throbbing and when she had moved, she felt as if she was going to be sick. He ran his hands over her face and head, searching for cuts and bruises. She winced as he touched the goose egg bump on her forehead.

“What the…” he exclaimed.

Connor had discovered a piece of the plasti-skin attached to the wig that had been ripped when she had removed it at Alara’s mansion ever so long ago. He peeled it from her head, releasing the wig along with it. Jen didn’t have the ability to do more than weakly reach for his hands to try and stop him, but it was too late. He was holding the wig in one hand and her face in the other and he stared at her, recognition and bewilderment showing in his eyes.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Who are you, really?”

Jen found herself answering automatically, on the other side of Mac’s old joke with her, “Who do you want me to be?”