Cryptikon Far Freedom Part 2

was something familiar about the woman with very little hair. There was everything strange about why she should be here. Who was she? She wore a medical uniform with an inconspicuous diamond star of an admiral. She must be important. She was much older than she appeared to be. He hoped he would make a good impression on her, regardless of who she was.

  "We have a decision to make," Demba said.

  "Won't you introduce us?" Khalanov asked.

  Demba and the woman looked at each other, and the look was a total mystery to Khalanov. It was sadness he saw. What were they planning to do to him? The young woman looked down at her hands in her lap.

  "This is Aylis Mnro," Demba said matter-of-factly, apparently not appreciative of what a thunderclap of news this was to him! She continued despite his reaction. "You know Captain Direk. You don't know he's Aylis's son."

  Khalanov blinked several times and stared hard at the young woman. Yes, there was a definite resemblance to the historic person. But no, it was absurd to believe she was actually Doctor Mnro! Yet, Admiral Demba was never a person to arrange some elaborate prank. Such a fabrication for mere amusement would be impossible for the logical Captain Direk. It had to be Aylis Mnro!

  "She is - ! He is - ! She is Aylis Mnro? Direk is her son?"

  Khalanov sat down with haste, before this incredible news could pull the deck from under him. He could feel his face flush. He looked from Mnro to Demba to Direk, again and again. They obviously knew each other. How could Demba never confide to him that she knew Aylis Mnro? Why did he believe it was true?

  "I'm terribly sorry, Doctor Mnro!" he declared. Why was Aylis Mnro bearing the rank of a Navy admiral?

  "Sorry for what?" she asked. She looked up at him with caring blue eyes.

  He almost couldn't respond. Her eyes were on him! He glanced at Demba and saw an identical look: caring? "I've known Direk for a long time," he sputtered, "and haven't often enjoyed his company. I'm sorry I haven't responded better to him. Knowing he's your son, I'll try harder! I'm amazed you're with us and I'm very pleased and honored to meet you. I'm Igor Khalanov. You don't quite look like the images I've seen of you, but I suppose that's to be expected. I can't imagine why you've joined this mission. Have you joined it? You have an admiral's star!"

  When Mnro bowed her head again and didn't reply to him, Khalanov suffered another disappointment and turned to Demba.

  "Aylis was assaulted," Demba said gravely. "I hated to ask her, but she needed to be here."

  "Assaulted!" He felt his hackles rise as an old familiar anger started to boil. How many times had he learned of a female officer or NCO being abused? "I'm appalled! I'm outraged! The damned Navy! What happened?"

  "Not now," Demba said softly.

  "My God! How can this happen to Doctor Mnro, of all people?"

  "Please, don't talk about it to anyone," Demba requested, and her tone of voice made him understand it was an order.

  Khalanov shook his head, very pained by the information. This was Doctor Mnro who was assaulted! The ghastly news swirled in his mind as he tried to move on to another topic. He was unaware the others were waiting for him and watching him. He only knew he was naturally impatient to fill the silence. "Why are we here?" he asked.

  "Do you want to go on this mission, Iggy?" Demba asked.

  Khalanov's heart fluttered. It was good that she called him "Iggy." It was bad that she raised the question of his retention. Aylis Mnro! He couldn't concentrate on any one thing. Direk was her son!

  "I labored decades building this ship," he began cautiously, forcing himself to organize his thoughts, "never expecting to sail it. Then you asked me to stay aboard for a limited time. Now you're ready to put me ashore, or keep me permanently? I don't understand!"

  "I've remembered you," Demba said mysteriously. Khalanov opened his mouth to ask The Question. She raised her hand to cut him off. "Before I explain what that means, answer my question. Do you want to go on this mission?"

  "I've been planning for all these years how to stow away on the ship, if I had to, to keep from being left behind! This ship is my life! What is left for me without it? Yes! I want to go!"

  "I wouldn't have expected that," Mnro said, breaking her silence, looking up from her hands, looking at Khalanov again.

  Khalanov was almost lost in the great woman's caring gaze but managed to keep the thread of the dialog. "And I don't understand that," he said to Mnro. "How can you know what to expect of me? I beg your forgiveness if I speak from ignorance, but who am I to you?"

  "That was a long time ago," Mnro said. "I'm in error. You're not who you were, I'm sure."

  "We need a decision now," Demba said, cutting off the next question Khalanov could pose, "before we say anything more."

  "Does Iggy have a vote?" Mnro asked.

  "She called me Iggy!" Khalanov gasped. His heart was thudding and he was shocked again. Why would she choose to call him by his nickname? Even Demba rarely used it.

  "You're in line for another star, Iggy," Demba commented, perhaps deliberately also using his nickname. "If you stay, you'll have more ships to build."

  Khalanov waved a hand in dismissal. "You and I lost everything in the war. We died, we lost continuity. I was young again but not a youth. I came to depend on you to keep me going! I still depend on you, you and the ship! I think I must have expressed my desire to go with you on several occasions!"

  "I'm sorry," Demba said. "I didn't take you seriously."

  "Why didn't you?" He felt resentful. Had she simply pretended all these years to be his friend? Why?

  "You don't want another star, Iggy?" Demba asked. "You don't want to build more ships for the Navy?"

  "Building ships is so damned tedious! Every day it's a battle over logistics and design changes and assembly schedules! My desire was always to sail a ship and keep it running and see what's out there! I'm not just an engineer, you know! Please, take me seriously now!"

  Demba smiled faintly. Khalanov saw the smile and was arrested by it. Something was wrong. Demba never smiled. He began to feel cast adrift, even as he understood this meeting was about him and nothing else.

  "We can take him with us," she was saying to Mnro and Direk. "We can leave him behind. Which?"

  "We can't leave him," Mnro said quietly but adamantly. "He's our friend. We love him."

  Adrift for only moments, now Khalanov was thrown into a gale and all but lost to some distant shore of coherent thought. We love him. The shocking phrase reverberated in the storm of his emotions. If this was Aylis Mnro, how could she utter such words?

  "We can't take him with us," Direk was saying. "He poses a security threat. I can link him directly to Etrhnk's spy network."

  What was that? He was a spy? It made no sense. He was not!

  "Can we successfully store him in stasis where Etrhnk can't retrieve him?" Demba asked, holding up a hand intended to stop Khalanov from speaking.

  "No," Direk replied.

  "If we keep him, what is the cost?"

  "If you trust him, there is no cost," Direk replied. "If they knew what he means to us, it would be worse to leave him behind."

  What did he mean to them? Khalanov was ready to grab Demba and shake it out of her!

  "We can't leave him behind," Mnro said. "It's bad enough that we're leaving Pan."

  "How does Doctor Mnro know me?" Khalanov demanded, unable to contain his agitation, disobeying Demba's raised hand. They ignored him!

  "I trust him," Demba said. "We keep him, despite the risk. Unless you have proof Iggy was malicious in providing information to Etrhnk."

  "I never expected to leave Uncle Iggy behind," Direk said. "And I don't think he knew he was spying for Etrhnk."

  "Uncle Iggy?" Khalanov declared, turning to display his shocked expression at Direk.

  Mnro reached across the short space between them and touched Khalanov's hand. Shocked, he almost jerked the hand away from her but stopped. She squeezed his hand. It gave him goose flesh. "Iggy, this was a small performance on o
ur part to try to verify how we knew you would react. There was never any doubt that you belonged with us. But people change. Times change. We continue in these bodies but we also die by slow and subtle degrees."

  "You were lying to me?" he asked. "You don't really know me?"

  "We haven't lied, Iggy. We once knew you. Now, we hardly even know who we are, and less who you are. We hope there remains the wonderful young man who was my crewmate on the Frontier."

  "The Frontier?" He was too upset to understand why the name seemed familiar.

  "Iggy, you and I and Zakiya served together in Deep Space Fleet on a legendary ship."

  Mnro watched him strangle on this piece of fantasy and her expressive face bore such a look of honesty and concern that he subdued his need to challenge the absurdity.

  "Zakiya?" he asked instead. "Who is Zakiya?"

  "I'm Zakiya," Demba replied. "Zakiya Muenda. I was Third Officer on the Frontier. You were its engineer. Aylis and I remember. You don't."

  Now he remembered where he knew of the Frontier! It was a fictional vessel! Khalanov wasn't sure anymore that Deep Space Fleet had been a real organization. It would have existed hundreds of years ago, if it existed at all! Yet, he trusted Demba. She had saved his skin on too many occasions. But, because she said it, did that make the impossible possible? He tried to pull his hand away from Mnro's hand. Mnro resisted releasing him.

  "I'm a doctor," Mnro explained. "You're under stress. You've skipped too many age-maintenance treatments building this ship, Iggy. I want to monitor your vital signs."

  He frowned to the limit