The Captain's Heart CH 88

Jeremy took the circuit out of the tester and squeezed into the space of the open weight machine to install it. With so much space available

Jeremy took the circuit out of the tester and squeezed into the space of the open weight machine to install it.

With so much space available to him, he’d intended to have the weight machine moved into his quarters, but the person from Custodial who had replied to his request had asked if he’d mind leaving it where it was, as someone, other than him, was using it.

That had surprised him. Kelsirians didn’t do those kinds of workouts.

Wondering if they’d lied to him about it, like the monsters they were, had devolved into pure paranoia. He’d tried to contact someone, anyone, to reassure him, to rescue him, but he’d been horrified to realize none of the names he was looking for were on his tablet.

The only names there were Kelsirians.

As he’d devolved deeper into panic, he’d inexplicably fallen asleep.

When he’d woken up, there had been a message from the Psychologist asking if he was well. That they’d detected his state and had released a sleeping agent when it was obvious he wasn’t regaining control.

Then had come the offer for her to visit him so they could talk.

He hadn’t panicked.

But he’d vehemently refused.

Once he’d gotten over the entire incident, he’d realized that this was a perfect opportunity to built a new version, one incorporating the ideas he’d had from using the first one, but couldn’t upgrade because it would have required rendering it inoperable for too long.

Now, something like two weeks in, he had this model nearly functional. It was lighter and smaller, while able to assume all the configurations for the exercises he needed.

His tablet buzzed, and he looked over Atarikna’s suggestions for the control circuits. He replied, explaining the details he thought she’d misunderstood from the ongoing conversation, which he suspected was due to her difficulty in understanding the small size of his machine.

Since he had his tablet in hand, he replied to Thuruk, confirming he was fine, that he hadn’t started with his sessions, and that yes, he hoped to get back to work soon. Prertiros’ were similar, although without asking about the Psychologist. He let Xenial know he was getting low on coffee, and when did he think he’d be able to get more. The reply was that he’d find a bag of beans the next time he opened his door.

Jeremy had been tempted to head to it now and put that to the test. Then the idea he might catch his friend in the act of placing the bag stopped him. The idea of being face to face with one of them caused him to tremble. When he had control of himself, he thanked him and continued through the messages.

He was surprised to have one from Querik, who had heard about his ordeal and wanted to assure him he trusted in the gods to see to it he’d be well and that those responsible would pay.

He replied, unsure if it would reach him. This was his first time sending a message to someone not on the ship. He avoided the subjects of gods and thanked him for the thoughts and assured him he was improving.

Just being able to communicate through texts like this was an improvement. A week before, the knowledge he could only talk to Kelsirian would cause him to shake with fear.

As he did each time he went through his messages, he attempted to write one to Gral—Teeth and claws, Jeremy in a corner being torn apart by them. The cock forced into him. His mother on that tray. His sister screaming—

He wrenched his mind out of the programed horror show and ran to the toilet. This time he made it, instead of throwing up on the floor.

Then, he set back to work.

    *

“Add one kilo,” he said, and waited for the acknowledgment ping. He didn’t feel the difference when he pushed the bar up, but it was only one kilo. This was a test of the audio pickup and conversion. A check of his tablet showed the weight at eighty-three kilos. So that had worked.

“Add ten kilo.” The number went up to ninety-three, but when he pushed the bar, it moved too easily. So the problem was between the processing and gravitic adjuster this time.

He moved to his drafting table and brought up the diagram to diagnose the issue.

His tablet pinged. This meant someone was contacting him through audio this time. He settled his breathing. This was no different from text exchanges. He tapped the accept.

“Technician Jeremy Bradshaw,” the woman said. “I believe we have a session scheduled?”

“I know.” He traced the path of the signal. “I’ll be there as soon as I’m done with this.”

“If it is easier, I can join you in your apartment.”

“No!”

He looked around, certain she was already there, ready to—

He was here alone. This was his safe space. Which was why he wasn’t letting her in here. Any of them.

“It might be best if we postpone it, then.” His voice barely shook this time.

“It’s the third time you are asking for a postponement, Technician. This is now feeling like avoidance, so I have to refuse.”

“I can always not show up.”

“And it is within my authority to open your door and force the issue, Technician. I’m asking you to come to me so we can work on resolving your situation without invading your apartment.”

He couldn’t avoid it, and he couldn’t have one of them in the one place he felt safe.

Which meant he had to brave the outside.

Where they were.

“I don’t know if…” he looked in the door’s direction. The fear wasn’t his. He didn’t have to let it control his life. He didn’t want it to control his life. He wanted his life back, his Heart back, and he couldn’t do that hiding in here, where it was safe. Or by himself. He needed help beyond his friend’s support. Help she could provide.

“I’m on my way.” The office she’d taken to help him was three intersections toward the hull, barely a minute’s walk. He’d memorized the path when she’d contacted him to arrange the first session.

Just thinking about having to brave the outside had made it impossible to think that time. He’d needed over an hour and multiple attempts before he could look at the path on his tablet and imagine himself walking it.

Now he was going to do it.

All he needed to do was open the door, step outside, and make a left. Go by three intersections, where Kelsirians might be watching for him, then it was two doors, any of which could open and a Kelsirian grab him and—

He rested his head on the door and forced his breathing to slow. He had to do it, regardless of the risk. The alternative was the certainly that his sanctum would be invaded.

He also didn’t think she’d give him a warning she was on her way.

He opened the door and leaned forward, looking left and right. No one.

That he could see, the programing whispered. So many doors between here and there, where she waited for him, waited and schemed.

He missed the box. It made things so much easier. Shove the intruding feelings in it and go on with what he wanted to do. Now, when he set his foot past the door, it was against that voice screaming he was heading for a trap, that he couldn’t trust her or any of them. They all worked for him, the golden eyed monster. The one who would rend him, use him, abuse him. He was—

His love. He forced the thought. His Heart. The one he wanted to go back to. He was doing this to be with him again.

He stepped out of his sanctuary and turned left. There was no one, so he started forward, only to stop at the sound of voices.

They were coming for him.

He had to hide. Go back where it was safe. This had been a trap, after all.

He didn’t move. He wanted to move, to run back, but fear held him in place, and the voices faded into the distance.

He wanted to laugh at how the fear programed into him had been the only reason he’d stayed they to hear them walk off, but he was still shaking, sweating from the almost encounter.

The voice still yelled at him to turn back. This had almost happened, but the next time they would pounce on him before he heard them.

He took a step forward, then another.

He remained alert for any hints one of them was around. Any voice, the soft pricking of the thick flooring as their claws dug into it and pulled as they walked.

How much work was that for Repair to deal with?

When he stood before the door where she waited for him, he was panting hard. The button was blue, waiting for him to tap it and open the door.

It’s not too late, the voice urged him. He could turn and run, go back to hiding where it was safe. She’d lied. She would never violate his safe space.

The voice was right, Jeremy realized, she wouldn’t. If he returned to his quarters, she’d be disappointed he’d almost made it, but she wouldn’t intrude. Her job was to help him, not hurt him. Not create a situation where he’d fear every sounds in the one place on the ship he had left.

He thought he heard the voice rejoice.

Then he opened the door.

The vastness of the room was the first thing he noticed, even for a species that valued having more room than he’d ever figure out what to do with it. This was far more than one room should be. Then he noticed the marks on the walls where other walls had been removed.

This section was for dignitaries, Thuruk had told him. So they were all as spacious as his. And they’d turned this into a single room

He noticed the woman seated at the other end of it, then the plant on the lot table before her. It had dark green stems with lighter green leaves, with purple edges. It was so out of place, he chuckled.

Then he realized it wasn’t it that was out of place but the bareness of the room.

“I was expecting an office,” he said, stepping in and stopping as the door closed. He was trapped with her.

“I thought you might prefer there be more distance between us.” She motioned to a seat facing her, more than ten meters away, and with…. He frowned and stepped past it until he reached the oddity.

He placed his hand on the clear surface.

“Maintenance assures me that I couldn’t claw my way through it to reach you even with the best combat glove the hunters use.”

He tapped it with a knuckle. It was thick.

He knew half a dozen transparent polymers this could be, and the weakest could withstand a pneumatic hammer.

He sat on the edge of the seat. “What do we do now?”

She smiled. “Whatever you want. You came. You stepped outside your comfort zone. Crossed the distance to reach me. Even once you realized I wouldn’t intrude on your safety if you turned back, you defied your fear and entered. For now, I consider this session a success, but if there is anything you wish to talk about, I am here to listen.”

She’d given him permission to leave. To go back where it was safe.

He chuckled.

Safe?

Safe was an illusion. Living was putting his life in danger. He was on a ship in the middle of vacuum. How safe was that? His field was anti-matter research. Possibly the most dangerous field possible. If he’d wanted safe, he should have become an architect and stayed on Earth.

He leaned back in the seat, then fell into the bowl with a laugh. He thought it might turn hysterical, but it settled. He panted. Righted himself, pulling his legs in the way Kelsirians did so easily.

“I’m pissed,” he finally said, and she nodded.

Outline section 

No Outline

Addition 

Jeremy makes a home of sorts out of the quarters. He has a workshop with everything he needs to keep busy. He is rebuilding a workout machine because he can’t get the previous one to his quarters, someone asked to be able to continue using it in his absesnce. It’s a chance to improve the design.

He has tentative text communications with others. Tries to contact Gral, but that fear runs too deep.

Establishing some of what Jeremy does, living alone. That time has passed, and the start of his therapy. Those were pretty much all things the outline simply implied happened for the sake of a much faster pacing