The Defiant

The next week passed in relative normalcy, at least compared to the few days we’d spent on Cebos. Everyone seemed to be seeking only their own company. I saw Four and Eight hardly at all (for Eight, this was normal, but Four could usually be seen stumping about in a bad mood for some reason or other). Even Seven kept to herself, spending hours down in the garden or in the med bay, though she was always welcoming to me when I sought her out for company.

I saw Two often, as I visited the med bay every few hours to check on him. I also saw a rotating assortment of crew members there with him. As far as I knew, Seven still stayed there with him at night, but Three and Six often visited during the days, as well as Five, who liked to read to him.

Four was spending a lot of time in the cargo bay. When it was my turn to take the passenger’s meal down to him one evening, I heard the sounds of swearing and metal clanging together echoing from the bay. From this I surmised that she was working on some project, probably for the engines, and I didn’t disturb her.

I was still having nightmares. Often, instead of trying to fall back asleep after being awoken by the disturbing fear, I took long walks around the ship, which was how I knew Eight still slept in the med bay every night.

The ship was eerie at night. It wasn’t dark, like Earth, where night and day were immediately categorized by the amount of ambient light, but rather silent. The hallways and stars looked exactly the same, but the ship was totally devoid of noise and fellow inhabitants. I found these walks both comforting and unsettling.

During the day, I also spent a lot of time in the training room, often accompanied by the silent but amiable presence of Six, who could easily lift weights as heavy as I was.

My wrist healed and Seven cleared me to take the bandages off, so I did a lot of agility drills and basic strength exercises. My run from the guards at the Prime Minister’s house on Cebos had opened my eyes. I had been very out of breath and had nearly been caught. Of course, some of that might have been due to the fact that I was wearing a dress wider than I was tall.

Relishing my nonrestrictive clothing, I raced back and forth across the training room, timing myself to improve my speed and endurance. I clambered up into the crawlspaces and practiced climbing up and down the ladders. I arranged crates in the cargo bay Four wasn’t working in to create an obstacle course for myself.

I realized all this training was probably unnecessary, as we were unlikely to get into any more scrapes. But I needed something to do with my time (other than obsess on the ethics of our mission), so I acted like a squirrel monkey, dashing back and forth across the training room, climbing ladders, and jumping on crates. The one aspect of training I stayed away from was the weapons. We hadn’t needed them on Cebos, and I wanted to avoid ever needing them.

On the eighth day after leaving Cebos, about half our journey to Byth was over, and Four called a meeting in the med bay. Two’s medical sentence was technically over, but Seven wasn’t letting him spend more than three hours a day out of bed, and he wasn’t allowed to do anything strenuous.

Once we’d all arrived, Four entered, grinning broadly, holding something behind her back.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I told you to come here,” she said, and whipped the object out from behind her with a flourish.

“A… torture device?” Three asked, perplexed.

I didn’t know what the object was either. It looked a lot like a vest, made of interlocking metal straps in the shape of a chest. A small, cylindrical device with a red flashing light on top of it was attached to one side, and a small speaker sat on the opposite side, near the top. This must be what she’d been working on all this time in the cargo bay.

Four sighed, exasperated.

“Do none of you have any brains whatsoever? It’s an interpretive speech program.”

Continued silence.

“Ugh, fine. C’mere, Six.” Six approached her obediently. “Put it on.” He shrugged the device on like a vest.

“Okay, now sign something. Say how lovely we all are, or something.”

Six gestured quickly and fluidly. A computerized, mechanical voice echoed from the speaker by his left shoulder.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

We all, including Six, stared at the vest in wonder. Four had invented a way for him to speak!

“Woah. This is so cool. How does it work, Four?” Six asked. Six asked!

Four cackled delightedly. “I found some of your signs in the computer. By the way, you guys are speaking American sign language,” she said, pointing to Three and Six. “I programmed a visual index of the computer’s vocabulary and stored it in a portable scanner, then hooked it up to a speech program. Basically, the vest scans your movements, then translates them to English and says them out loud. This way you can talk whenever you want without Three having to be around.”

Six gave her a bear hug, utterly dwarfing her small frame with his huge one.

“You’re welcome,” she laughed. “There might be a few bugs in the program, but I’m sure I can fix whatever comes up.”

The rest of the crew swarmed Six, and Four retreated toward me. I ruffled her hair affectionately.

“You know, you just did a very nice thing, Four.”

“Ew. I’m sorry.”

I snorted. “I’m proud of you.”

She walked away from me in mock protest, but I could see a small, pleased smile on her features.

After that, Six still didn’t talk much (apparently he’s not a man of many words), but I could feel a shift in the attitudes of the crew. We were finally acting like friends or family instead of barely-acquaintances.

We began eating meals all at the same time again. Now that Two was back on his feet and Six could talk without Three, our conversations were fuller and longer, although often on stupid subjects. Five spent an entire dinner arguing for why we should all get code names instead of numbers, which was finished by Two asking if Five wanted to be called Nancy from now on.

So, now Two called Five Nancy.

In this way, a week passed. A week closer to Byth, to the decision we’d have to make.