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This is The Trials of the Hearken, a mini-series set in the Sandbox Earth Universe and a sequel of sorts to a previous story: “Out of the Black”. While you do not have to read that story to understand this one, it would provide some illuminating context. Similar to the previous story, this one was written under the influence of a song.
True Freedom
“The plan as briefed at the Karos Shipyard was to cruise for ten days before the next jump. That plan has not changed, though our destination, by necessity, has. My crew will work double-time to find a path through the stars and find a place all of us can call home. Please be patient while we work out the details of this new, bolder, braver journey. The unknown has called every one of us to step forth. We are ready.”
A friendly chime marked the end of the announcement. The observation deck was deathly silent.
Omer’s chest tightened. He felt his pulse beating through his neck. His mind was an incoherent cacophony of panic and terror. A small voice of reason tried to speak against the hurricane, but his system was overwhelmed. His hands were cold.
“Omer?” Ariel ventured, after a moment, her voice shaky but restrained. “You’re squeezing my hand, babe,” she said, placing her hand over his. Babe. An endearment she reserved for his panic attacks. She knows.
Omer released her hand, but couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t look away from the point on the chair in front of him. Ariel put a reassuring hand on the nape of his neck. “Babe, talk to me. What’s going on in there?”
“I…don’t understand,” he whispered.
“I…” Ariel sighed, “I don’t either.” She stroked his neck with her thumb. He had a flash of a thought—that she wasn’t reassuring him so much as she was clinging to him. Was she his comfort, or was he her life-raft? He grimaced at the thought.
He looked up—finally taking in the stars. Those stars—they had seemed beautiful before the announcement. Now, all he could see was the black space between them. He turned to Ariel, to get the stars out of his mind. Her face was concerned, brows furrowed. She was biting her lip in that way she did when she was uncertain. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“Yeah, good idea.” Ariel responded quickly, jumping at the chance to do anything. They stood, she took his hand, and led the way through the aisles of the observation deck, through the doors, through the halls. Omer floated after her, his mind unable to process what was happening, his body working automatically.
The bridge had erupted—questions, concerns. Matthew Morris stepped forward and stood between the captain and the crew. “Hey, everyone SHUT UP!” he shouted. The crew assumed an agitated silence.
“Our job has not changed. Keep this ship running. Jorgen, send the Quartermaster to the bridge—we’ll need an inventory of food. Paul, we need to conserve our fuel. Navigation—find out where we are so we can get where we are going.” Matthew clapped his hands as he barked orders. “Get to work NOW. Questions will be answered, but work has to get done. If colonists have questions, tell them to wait for further announcements. Understood?”
The remaining crew looked at him with a blank stare.
“Get to it!” Matthew shouted. Everyone scrambled, and dispersed.
Matthew turned around and faced the Captain, who was smirking. “Captain, we need to talk.”
Captain Carlo Harker raised his head lazily to look down his nose at Matthew. “Do we?”
“Yes.” A moments pause, “…sir.”
“Come to my office, let’s chat.” The captain walked away, assuming Matthew would follow. The office was a tiny closet-sized space adjacent to the bridge. It was intended to be used for administration, but most often it was a place of refuge for the Captain. He opened the door and stood aside to let Matthew in first. “I feel like I’ve been on my feet since we left Neptune.”
Matthew didn’t know how to respond, and sat on one side of a minute desk. Captain Harker settled in opposite him, and sighed. “Feels good to give my feet a break. Anyway—you’re unhappy Matthew. What’s on your mind.”
Matthew blinked a couple times in response to the Captain’s forwardness. “Uh, Captain—I don’t feel like you’ve included me sufficiently in your discussions. What am I supposed to tell the crew if I don’t know what’s going on?”
Carlo shrugged. “Tell them you don’t know what’s going on. Why is this my problem?”
“Because this is my job, captain. Why are we pressing forward when you and I both know that is dangerous? How are we going to find another planet out there? It makes more sense to turn around, jump back, and try to signal someone. If we make another jump we will be doubly-lost.”
“We aren’t lost.” Carlo replied casually.
“What do you mean we aren’t lost. We just told the whole ship that we are lost.”
“We might not know where we are relative the Union but we know where we are in space. We know our mission. I see no reason to turn back. The Jovian Union—all that politics and scheming, it’s an umbilical. We’re cut off, we’re on our own. True freedom, Matthew. Do you know what that means?”
“It’s not freedom if we die before we find a habitable planet.”
“Nobody has died yet,” The Captain leaned forward and pointed an accusing finger with sudden intensity. “You don’t get to chide me for counting on a destination we haven’t found, and then turn around and wring your hands over a crisis that hasn’t happened.”
“Going back is what’s best for the colonists—”
Carlo erupted to his feet, and slammed his palm on the tiny desk, “I will decide what is best for my colonists!” He jabbed his finger towards Matthew. “And you will not come here and tell me how to manage my ship. Did you think starting a colony would be easy? Did you think this would be a trip to the store? They chose me for this mission. Not you. They chose me so that I could lead. They chose you so you could follow. That’s the difference between you and me, Matthew. You will always be on someone’s leash. Cut off from the Jovian Union, we are on our own. If that scares you, it’s time to put some hair on your chest. This is my ship, these are my colonists, this mission was given to me. I will lead us forward, and you will help me get there. Do you understand?”
Matthew sat, frozen in time, returning Captain Harker’s intense stare with one of concern.
“Captain…” Matthew began, as calmly as he could manage, “…why are you afraid to turn back?”
Carlo reached across the little desk and grabbed Matthew by the collar, pulling him to his feet and squeezing his collar tight around his neck. “You sorry little worm of a man…” Carlo hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes dark. Matthew began to panic, his breath caught in his throat, and his blood pumping into his head—he was choking. Matthew clawed at his collar trying to get his breath. Captain Harker dragged him to the door and threw him to the ground outside the office. “Take a break, Morris. Come back to me before lights-out tomorrow. You have a choice to make. Are you going to commit to this mission and make history with me, or are you going to be a gutless worm. Now…” Carlo looked down at Matthew, gasping on the floor of the bridge, “…get out of my sight.”
Matthew coughed, regaining his composure and his breath both. He scrambled to his feet, and rushed out of the bridge. He felt Captain Harker’s eyes on him the whole way to the door.
Omer couldn’t sleep. Ariel had said something her mother had told her in a letter— don’t let the sun go down on your anger, something like that. So Omer had tried to let go of the complex swirl of emotions, and laid down in bed beside his girlfriend. She was sleeping soundly, her rhythmic breathing marking the time, her arm draped around his chest. Omer was staring at the ceiling in the dark—projecting onto it’s slate grey surface the vast expanse of emptiness that stood between the stars on the observation deck; wondering if they would ever see a sun again, angry or not.
His mind returned wanderingly to university. Where he was a protie, some kind of sub-human. Where he had to fight to share a classroom with his tormentors, and then fight his tormentors afterwards. His prophetic words echoed in his ears as fists flew— “I deserve to be here!”
Omer whispered it to himself. “I deserve to be here.” But where was ‘here’? Lost? Dead? Surely I don’t deserve to die. Ariel had ambitions for the colony, but Omer was just trying to get through each day. Ariel wanted to make a place her parents would be proud of, Omer just could not relate to the experience of having parents at all. He wanted Ariel. That was his choice: between a future on Ganymede, or a future with Ariel, he would choose Ariel every time.
Only…it never occurred to him that dying in space was a factor in that choice. That wasn’t one of the options put on the table. Would I have chosen differently if I knew one option meant dying?
Well—dying early. All choices led to death, sooner or later. How could anyone have known which choice led to which death?
Still. Having the choice at all would have been nice. The bitter thought entered his mind and lodged itself there—I was tricked. Omer grimaced in his bed, shook his head reflexively. Ariel stirred, smacked her lips sleepily, and then resumed her steady breathing. I don’t want to believe that, he thought.
A tiny voice replied, that’s how you got tricked.
That did it. Omer slipped carefully out from under Ariel’s arm and pulled the blankets over her shoulders. He paused—she continued her steady breathing. He put on a shirt, and quietly left the room. Lying in bed wasn’t helping.
Ariel woke slowly—she was awake before she realized she was awake, her mind slowly stretching to the rest of her body, becoming aware of sense and sensation. The last thing she noticed caused her to jolt fully awake—where was Omer? The space next to her was empty, and she sat up with a start. Her heart beat fast, her hands tingled—she realized she was standing. Then she saw a hastily scribbled note— “at the cafeteria” in Omer’s scratchy writing.
She took a deep breath. This was not how she expected to wake up. And especially after yesterday’s announcement, she felt some unease. Something wasn’t right, Omer wasn’t right—she needed him to be her rock, and he was faltering. It struck a very particular, raw nerve in her. And for Omer to go to the cafeteria on his own, especially after his earlier anxiety about it—that’s two things that weren’t quite right.
While Ariel dressed, her mind raced. She had dreamt about her parents, and when she woke echoes of the dream lingered in her mind. She remembered a story from her mothers letters, something about canvassing and going door to door to persuade people to their cause. That could be a good solution here, too, Ariel decided. The first act of democracy, presenting the Captain with a petition. Law and order begins here.
The thought made Ariel smile. She imagined her mother would be proud, that her mother would see it as having passed the torch. This is the path forward. Now she just needed to figure out how to get started. She checked herself in the mirror, and then stepped confidently out into the halls of the ship.
Ariel found Omer sitting at the same table they had found yesterday, in the same seat. She came up behind him, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed his cheek. “Hey,” she said, tentatively. “Feeling better this morning?”
“I got you some chili. They’re serving half rations…”
Ariel sat and accepted the bowl from Omer. It had cooled a bit, and sure enough it was half as much as they’d had poured out yesterday. “I guess they have to be careful with supplies for a while.”
Omer steadfastly refused to respond. Ariel persisted: “Omer, are you feeling better.” It was more statement than question, demand than inquiry.
“No, honestly,” he replied frankly. “I’m scared, Ariel.”
“Yeah,” she said, rubbing his back in a manner she hoped was reassuring. “I’ve had an idea that I think will help everyone though,” she spooned some Chili while Omer processed what she was saying.
“An idea for what?”
She turned to face him, proud of her idea. “The captain has decided to press forward—but there’s some major concerns with that, right? We’ve talked about how law and order starts on this ship too, right? Well, our first democratic act can be to start a petition! We’ll get signatures and—”
Omer waved his hand dismissively, and shook his head. “I don’t care about a petition, Ariel.”
Ariel felt an offended anger surge forward. “You want to try that again, babe?”
“I don’t care about the petition, Ariel,” Omer said, doubling down. “That’s not our biggest problem. I’ve never known a petition to do anything but waste people’s time—and we don’t have much on this ship.”
“Now hold on—” Ariel began, but in the distance behind Omer she caught eyes with Teela and Roman. She stopped herself mid sentence, muttered to Omer, “We’ll talk about this later.” She waved to Teela with a smile, and beckoned them to join at their table.
As Teela and Roman sat down, Ariel asked, “How are you doing? Crazy news, huh?”
Roman raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Crazy is one way to put it—we’re in trouble.”
Teela put a hand over Roman’s, communicating something unspoken between them. “We’re here now, and we’re trying to figure out what happens next. Can’t go forward, can’t go back. It’s a helpless feeling, you know? But we are trying to hope that the Captain knows what he’s doing.”
“I was just telling Omer about my idea for a petition,” Ariel began. “The captain said we are pressing forward with the next jump, but I think it is safest to turn back. If we present him with a petition, with signatures from everyone on the ship, I think he will listen. It will be the first act of democracy of the new colony.”
Teela and Roman nodded thoughtfully. Teela said, “I mean, it can’t hurt, right? If the Captain knows where he’s going, then it doesn’t really matter—but if he doesn’t that’s awfully reckless. At the very worst it sets up a good conversation between Captain and colonists.”
“I agree,” Roman added, “that conversation needs to happen. We’re just kind of along for the ride and it would help to have a voice in the captains ear reminding him we’re back here, you know?”
“If we’re going to set the tone of law and order and freedom in this colony—it has to happen. We can’t be afraid to use our voice, or we’ll be afraid to use our voice after this colony lands, whenever it does.”
“What do you think, Omer?” Teela asked.
Omer froze—Ariel could see the muscles in his neck tense and release. Eventually he said, “I’m scared.”
Teela and Roman nodded, and Teela said, “Us too. You know, I ran into another couple the other day, from Mercury of all places, can you believe it? So we chatted with them for a bit…”
Matthew woke up in the dark. He coughed—his throat still hurt. He slowly got out of bed.
Did Captain Harker try to kill me yesterday? Was that real?
That was the problem, wasn’t it—nothing felt real. Everyone felt powerless, in a way everyone was powerless, except the captain.
You have a choice to make.
The captain knew he was the only one who could direct the ship, and that if he pushed the button everyone would be dragged across space along with him. Something had to be done.
Matthew washed his face in the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. I wonder how much water is left. He tried to take a mental snapshot of himself, to look at himself the way a stranger would see him. Would the colonists think he was helping or hurting them? The crew looked to him to translate the captain’s decisions into something sensible—could Matthew do more help as first mate or as just another colonist?
He considered the options. Mutiny. That means overpowering the captain, taking over the ship. That’s got to be a last resort, and it’s not a sure thing that everyone in the crew would go with that. A ship this big, there’s a lot of crew, and all of them have to be on-board. If anyone stops working, we’re adrift in space and running out of time. We need the captain because everyone listens to the captain. With so little time, the decision has to be his, for better or worse. He can’t be reasoned with—there’s no negotiating. What can I do?
He splashed more water—precious, cool water—on his face, and said out loud, “What can I do?” His voice echoed from the bowl of the sink.
I need to clear my head. His uniform lying on his bed, he was now dressed casually, like a civilian—a colonist. He decided to disappear into the crowd.
It was a short walk from his bunk to the cafeteria. Where yesterday it had been the beating heart of the colony ship, the social hub abuzz with life—today it felt muted. Matthew paused at the railing, standing over the cafeteria just as he had yesterday. He tried to observe the faces, to catch snippets of conversations.
Lots of frowns and worry lines, eyes cast down, confusion. He heard people saying things like, “I don’t understand,” and “the Captain will know,” and “What is going to happen to us?”
He walked down the steps, going deeper, deeper into the crowd. He thought about getting a bowl of the nutrient slurry the colonists had started calling “chili” but decided against it—if it was going to become scarce, they should have it more than he. Nevertheless, he saw familiar faces walking away from the table—the girl, what was her name…Ariel! And her boyfriend Omer. They were walking away, so Matthew decided to sit down where they had left.
“Hey there!” said a woman, one half of the couple that remained. “You’re a new face to us, I’m Teela, and this is Roman.”
Matthew smiled politely, “Hi, I’m Matthew. What a day, right?”
Roman snickered, “Right! I suppose we should have been ready for something, huh? This is the stuff adventures are made of.”
“That’s a nice way to look at it.” Matthew said pensively.
“Well what do you think?” Teela asked, “How are you doing with…” she gestured vaguely around, “…all this?”
Matthew frowned for a moment, recollecting himself. “It’s hard,” he said, “being powerless. And there’s just about no one on the ship with any capacity to do anything other than the captain. And…it’s hard to know whether his decision is the right one.”
“That’s exactly it! The powerlessness of it,” Roman said. “It feels like we’re all just waiting around for something to change, for some new announcement.”
“I’m not sure we’ll get one. The Captain’s said we’re going to jump so we’ll jump. What else can change?”
“Well…” Teela said, tentatively, “The couple we were just talking to, one of them had this idea to start a petition. Maybe if we get enough signatures, the Captain would listen to the colonists?”
Matthew was stunned, he sat up straight. “That’s…that’s an interesting idea,” he said. “I guess…collect signatures and present it to the captain? What is the petition? Do they know how to reach the captain?”
“She wants to suggest the captain turn around and head back, look to make contact, get us back in known space for our own safety. There’s something appealing about that. Roman and I were wondering if the Captain knows where we’re going to end up. If he does, it doesn’t seem like there’s any harm in the jump. If he doesn’t, we think our friend’s petition would probably be helpful.”
“The captain seemed confident,” Roman interjected, “I have no reason to doubt him, they picked him for this mission for a reason. He surely wouldn’t do anything that put us in danger.”
Matthew nodded silently. “I’d like to learn more about this petition,” he said. “Where can I find your friends?”
Omer knew on the walk back to their bunk that there would be a fight. There was an energetic silence between them as they walked. She held his hand loosely. He wasn’t sure what to say, and he was sure Ariel wasn’t sure why she was angry.
When they returned, Ariel slid the door gently closed. Omer sat on the bed, ready. Ariel turned slowly around and said, “Omer, we need to talk.”
“What do we need to talk about,” he asked, agitated.
“How could you dismiss me like that. You waved your hand? You said you don’t care about the petition?”
“You talked about it with Teela and Roman anyway, it’s not like you care about my opinion.” Omer winced internally—he didn’t want to fire the first shot, but now he’d done it.
“Excuse me?” Ariel said, her hands on her hips. “I’m trying to come up with solutions, Omer. If something is wrong you need to communicate. When you’re stressed you turtle up, and it’s not helpful. Talk to me, Omer—what is on your mind?”
“You’re moving too fast, Ariel,” Omer said, more passionately than he intended. “I want to be there, but I’m not with you yet.”
“Okay,” Ariel said, accusingly, “What do you need? Tell me, Omer.”
“What do I need? Are you serious?”
“Omer I just don’t understand. I’m trying to find a practical solution here, is that not helping? Do you have a suggestion? Is there something wrong with the petition? I don’t know what is going on in your head. You have to tell me or I don’t know.”
“Okay, here it is, Ariel,” Omer’s chest felt heavy, like he was squeezing the words out, “What is the solution? Will a petition help us find our place in space? Will your petition work if the captain says no?”
“Why would he say no, Omer? This is law and order. This is democracy. This is how the people make their voice heard. It’s the first step to true freedom. We have to take that step. Mom always said to focus on what we can control—this is something we can control. He has to listen when he sees how many people sign.”
“Ariel I just—I can’t care about the petition. That’s what I mean when I say I’m not there, when I say I’m trying to catch up. You’re thinking too many steps ahead. I need to catch up to the present and you’re already running off into a future that hasn’t happened yet and we may not even get to.”
“What do you mean Omer, I don’t understand.”
Omer took a deep breath. “I don’t care about law and order, Ariel. I don’t care about founding a colony. I don’t care. I only—ONLY—care about you. You are the reason I am here. When you proposed this whole stupid venture, I agreed, so I could be with you. You made me choose between you, and staying somewhere I knew. I chose you, Ariel! And I don’t care about what I left behind on Ganymede—I have you, and that made me happy. But now we’re lost, and I’m scared.”
“What are you even—Omer, don’t you dare put this on me! We talked about this. You agreed to this. You agreed multiple times, you signed the papers with me. The time to argue about this was before, but now we’re here! We have to make the most of this, Omer. We have to. We can’t control anything else! We deserve to make our voices heard, we deserve to have a say. We deserve to be here!”
Omer looked up, shocked—he locked eyes with Ariel, his girlfriend, his love. “Ariel…you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“What do you mean? Don’t we? Don’t we deserve to be here?”
“To be lost in space? We deserve to not know if we’ll live to see the colony?”
Realization dawned on Ariel, her face changing, realizing her mistake. “Omer that’s—that’s not what I meant.” She took a step forward, and Omer held up a hand to stop her.
“But that’s what you said. You know how hard I fought to have a place in society. People look down on proties, like we’re some kind of genetic under-class. I earned a full scholarship, I was making my way despite it all. I gave it all up for you. And I don’t care that I gave it up, I’d give it up again. But no one ever told me that we could die out here. No one ever told me that I would deserve it.”
“Omer, that’s not what I am saying.” Ariel said, defiantly.
“Isn’t it?”
“You’re deliberately twisting my words.”
“You have to be careful with your words if you’re going to write a petition. People have to know what they’re agreeing to.”
Ariel clenched her fists, and ran her hand through her hair. “You’re not hearing me, Omer.”
“You’re not listening to me, Ariel.”
“I’m taking a walk,” she said. “Omer—I love you. I don’t understand this. We’re going to figure it out, okay? I just need to catch my breath. I’m angry. I don’t want to hurt you. We need to be able to talk about this. I can’t do this without you.”
There it is again, Omer thought, am I a partner or life-raft? He looked at her, steely-eyed, and said nothing more.
Ariel stared back at him, expectantly. Eyes trying to reach each other, neither seeming to make it across the distance.
“I’ll be back. Just need some air.” Ariel repeated.
She turned around, and walked out of the room.
Omer tried to get the words out of his head—I deserve to be here. He lay down in their bed and stared at the ceiling—he remembered tracing constellations in the dark, and suddenly tears welled up in his eyes. I’m going to die, he thought. He tried to hold it in, tried to be strong. Tried not to show he was terrified, for Ariel. A sob burst out, and he turned and buried his sobs in his pillow. He did a lot of things for Ariel, and hid a lot of himself for Ariel.
I was tricked. That tiny voice again, louder this time. She tricked me. The thought made him weep all the more. He thought about his life on Ganymede, his school, how he was unwelcome in his childhood group-home, unwelcome at school, unwelcome on Ganymede. And the only time he ever found something that made him happy, it killed him.
He thought about the stories he’d heard. Friends who meet the love of their lives and get married and live happily ever after. What did they do differently? How did he end up here? How did he end up on a colony ship hurtling to his death? It never occurred to Omer that this was a possible outcome. Because I was tricked.
Omer sat up, tears staining his pillow, his cheeks glistening like a stretch of pavement after a summer rain.
He looked around and felt sick. He had options, he could make choices. He saw it now—saw all the options, and where they led. There was a lot about this that he could not control, but there was one thing he could. I will not be tricked again, he thought. The observation deck would be a good place—a good place. Watch the stars, and the space between them. He wondered what he would see.
Matthew stalked the hallways of the Hearken, knowing that the girl, Ariel, would be around Deck Five somewhere. The passengers—colonists—he passed huddled in groups, worried looks on their faces. What could they do? What could anyone do?
His heart clenched, as he considered the possibility of a second jump. What would happen on this ship if they don’t find a new home quickly? A second jump would make them impossible to find, and make finding their way back nigh impossible as well. This was attainable by the rudest intellect on the ship, and rumors were already going around with this or that horrible outcome.
This is why we need the petition, Matthew thought. This is how we can do something good in this awful situation.
He rounded a corner and spotted Ariel down the hall. She was hugging herself across her waist, pacing back and forth. He waved at her, but she didn’t notice. “Hi!” he called out. “Hello there! Uh, are you Ariel?”
She looked up, he could see she had tears in her eyes. She wiped her eyes with the base of her hand, and painted a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Hello,” she sniffed, “Sorry, I recognize you but I don’t remember your name. Been a lot of new people…”
“I’m sure,” Matthew said, “I’m Matthew the first mate. Don’t tell anyone though, I’m off duty,” he tried to smile like it was a joke. Ariel didn’t react. “We met the other day, you were looking for the Observation deck. Is everything okay?”
“Just—” she took a deep breath, gathering herself. “No, everything is not okay. It’s this announcement from the Captain…” she looked at Matthew, with sudden understanding, “your Captain. This is hard! And unexpected.”
Matthew put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Starting a colony was always going to be hard, Ariel. I am sorry it is hard now and not later. The Captain’s announcement was a surprise to many of us. And not welcome news to all of us. That’s why I found you—I heard about your petition.”
Ariel looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “You did? I—what do you think? Can you help? We’ll need to get it to the captain and—” she paused. “What do you think of the idea?”
“I think it’s great. Someone needs to do something. This is about the best idea I’ve got. We need the captain’s cooperation. We can do a lot, but working against him is worse than working with him. He…well I hope he would listen.”
“Would you…would you talk to my boyfriend, Omer? I think it might really put him at ease to hear from someone in the crew. He’s having a really hard time—I am too, but it’s just…it sounds very bleak. I came up with this petition and…it’s just hard.”
“I…uh, I don’t know what I can say. I’m happy to talk, but I don’t want to…intrude…”
“Come with me, our room isn’t far.” Ariel marched off down the hall.
Matthew jogged to catch up, “So this petition—have you thought about what it would be? How you would spread it?”
“I think it’s just—do you want to turn back or not? That seems the simplest framing. It’s all about capturing the will of the people right? Our first democratic act. Some people probably don’t want to go back, but they might not understand what that means. So this is our opportunity to—” she arrived at a door, and it slid gently open, “—talk to everyone.”
She stared into the room. “Omer?”
“Everything okay?” Matthew asked.
“He’s not here, he…didn’t leave a note. He must have just gone to get some air too, that’s why I was in the hall just then, getting some air…” she was distracted now, her mind turning over a new problem. “Do you mind coming with me to try and find him?”
This was turning into more of a chore than Matthew expected—but he needed Ariel, and she needed him. They could walk and talk. “Sure, no problem,” he said.
“So, the petition,” Matthew resumed, as they walked down the halls, following a blue stripe. “I get it, trying to plumb the will of the people. I think that’s good. The Captain is pretty adamant about pressing forward though. Do you have anything else you can bring to the negotiation?”
“It’s not really a negotiation, it’s a petition. If the Captain listens to us, that’s a really good thing. It creates a structure we can use once we arrive, after we re-orient ourselves in space.”
“I’m following. But if he doesn’t listen…”
“I really can’t imagine why he wouldn’t. Surely he wants what is best for the colony, and maybe he can explain his point of view and he can listen to our point of view.”
The captains threat echoed in Matthews mind… all this depends on the captain being reasonable. “So how do you plan to do this?”
They arrived at the Observation deck, and pushed open the doors. A low blue light emanated from the screens, designed to look like a window into space. The black of space, and the dim light of distant stars, checkered the view.
“I think…we’ll go…deck by…” she was distracted, scanning the chairs. She pointed, and smiled— “There he is! He looks like he fell asleep. I knew he would be here.” She walked up and into an aisle, carefully. She whispered, so as to not disturb the others, “Omer! Omer wake up!” She stepped in something wet.
Matthew followed a safe distance behind her, not wanting to cause a problem. Ariel took another step before she noticed she was stepping in something. “Omer?”
Suddenly, she shrieked, which made Matthew jump, and she lurched backwards and fell into him. He caught her, and then he saw—Omer had slit his wrists, his blood had spilled onto the floor. His eyes fixed permanently on some point between the stars on the screen.
“OMER!” Ariel shrieked through tears. Matthew saw that he had a letter in his hand.
To be continued…
Thank you very much for reading! This is part two of my first (complete) limited serial, and I am glad that it is making it out into the world. I hope you enjoyed this installment of the Trials of the Hearken, and I look forward to bringing you the last part of the story soon!
Please consider leaving a like, telling me what you thought in the comments, or sharing this story on Notes. If you would like to read more, please check out my collection of longer fiction at The Volume.
God bless!
AJPM
After all that emotional investment I made over them, HOW DARE YOU???
So many suspicious happenings are afoot!
....whoa.
I did not expect that.
You captured the emotional dynamic between them very well.
I have to wonder: was it Omer all on his own making the choice, or ... something else out there that got to him?
Wow.