A Calendar of Tales: March

Way back in 2013, I was inspired by Neil Gaiman's A Calendar of Tales to write my own tales using the same inspirational quotes. I did not read his stories before I wrote mine, but I did read them after, and they are all awesome.

 “What Historical figure does March remind you of ?”

“Anne Bonny and her rapscallion heart, dreaming for a ship of her very own.”

Annie ran down the corridor and stepped into the med bay. Inside were two kids about the age she was when she graduated from the academy twenty years ago. Both turned from their work and looked at her, surprised at the intrusion. “Lieutenant Richardson?” she asked, looking between the boy and the girl.

“Yes?” said the girl. She was a little thing, short and thin, with black hair tied up in a neat bun. She was all business, but it hid a great nervousness. It was probably her first time in charge of anything; everyone had been tapped to help with the evacuation.

“I'm Annie Bowman, I've been assigned to assist you in the med bay as long as I am able.”

“Commander Bowman?” said the boy, his eyes wide. He was a local boy, big and broad shouldered, his brown hair streaked with sun-bleached yellow and his skin very tan. Richardson frowned, looking at Annie with new eyes.

Annie smiled at the boy. “Mister...?”

“York, Sir. Ensign.”

“Very good, Ensign York. I'm only Commander Bowman until we get out of the planet's gravity well. Then I'm a civilian contractor. That's how it works when you have--”

“Debilitating space sickness,” breathed Lieutenant Richardson. Her brow furrowed. She must have been thinking that Commander Bowman had been sent along with her on her first mission in charge of an entire med bay to evaluate her and to take charge if she screwed up. Really, Annie had wanted to stay behind and help with the rest of the evacuation on the ground, but she'd received orders. She wondered if her father had anything to do with this.

“Space sickness?” said Ensign York. He looked extremely confused. “But...you saved my brother on the Alexander when that big storm hit...”

“Space sickness is different from sea sickness,” Annie explained. “But we don't have time--”

“We don't have time for chit-chat,” said Lieutenant Richardson. “We've got to get webbed down for launch. Commander, you first, please.”

The kid might be nervous but she knew what she was supposed to do. Annie lay on her couch and pulled over the manual harness. Richardson hit the button and the automatic webbing closed over her. She didn't need to be reminded to strap a vomit-mask to Annie's face. “Do you want a shot, now? We'll probably have to maneuver.”

“No,” Annie said.

“Really?”

“If I'm going to die, I'd rather die spewing bile than half asleep.”

Richardson shrugged and helped York with his automatic webbing.

The increased Gs of the launch didn't bother Annie in the slightest as they pressed her down in her couch; down was just stronger. Then the captain announced they were in maneuvers. Annie's stomach clenched in anticipation.

Down shifted crazily. Annie felt like she ought to be rolling around, rather than fixed in her couch. She tried to hold it back but soon all she could do was vomit and weep.

Annie came to, but she didn't open her eyes. She stayed still. The suction on her vomit mask had taken it all away, but now it was dead. She braced her head back against the couch and opened her eyes. Only dim emergency light showed. Red globes of blood floated in the air in front of her; not a good sign. She shut her eyes again and carefully turned her head toward the couch next to her. Her head swam, but she managed not to lose control of her position, and she didn't vomit.

The next couch was empty. The one beyond was full of Lieutenant Richardson, unconscious, with one arm floating out of her manual harness. It looked like she'd been able to get into hers when the automated one failed, but York hadn't been quick enough.

“Richardson!” Annie called. “Lieutenant! Lieutenant Richardson!” Richardson moaned and turned her head. Annie put as much command into her voice and shouted, “Richardson!”

The girl's eyes snapped open and she turned her head. “Commander Bowman!”

“Ms. Bowman,” Annie corrected. “We're in freefall conditions. You're in charge, Sir.”

“Where's Max?”

“Ensign York? I don't see him.”

“What should I do?”

“Use your head.” Annie shut her eyes. “And find me a manual vomit mask, please.”

Annie heard Richardson open her harness and begin to move around the room. She felt her remove the old mask and put a new one on, and press the switch into Annie's hands so she could control the suction. Sometimes just having that breeze against her face helped, but she didn't want to wear out the battery pack.

Then Richardson gasped and made a retching sound. “Oh, God,” she said.

“Is it York?”

“Yes.”

“Is he dead?”

“I don't know. There's blood everywhere. He's...oh, God, he's breathing. He's unconscious. The blood's coming from his leg. God. The bone's sticking out.”

Annie opened her eyes and saw Richardson hauling York's body over to his couch. She pulled the manual harness across his body and secured it, then flipped over so she was head down. Annie closed her eyes and tried very hard to imagine Richardson as a dolphin; she was swimming underwater. Down was down. It didn't help.

“Ms. Bowman,” Richardson said.

“Annie.”

“Help me, Annie, I can't do this.”

“What's wrong? You know what you're doing.”

“Yeah, but this is Max!”

“I can't help you,” Annie said. “I will only be sick if I cut loose. You can do it.”

“Ack! Tell me a story. Please.”

“What story?”

“I don't care. How did you end up in the Navy with space sickness?”

“Urgh. I was recruited before the anti-gravity tests, and I tested through on the old tests. Then, once I got to real freefall, blargh. I was here on scholarship from the colonies, I couldn't afford to get back home on my own. So I joined the academy and trained as ground-level civil defense.”

“Have you left Garault since then?”

“I go out to the colonies nearly every year to visit my family. On most trips, the gravity works, and it's fine. Otherwise, yeah, they have to ship me like a leaky package.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I appreciate it. It was my dream to be a starship captain, but I had it all right on Garault. It's a beautiful planet, all over. Well...it was.”

Neither of them had any idea what the aliens would do to Garault once they claimed it, if it was even their goal.

“All right. I think that's done it.”

“You think?”

“I've never done this before except in simulation. Fortunately the medpacks survived...whatever happened, even if nothing else works in here. Max'll be okay. Are you all right?”

“I'm not injured.”

“Um...” Richardson put her hands back over her tattered bun. “Everyone's stable...so...I should...communications.” She pushed off from York's couch and floated up to the main instrument panel. Annie shut her eyes again.

“Captain? This is Med Bay, checking in, over.” She said it, then waited, muttering to herself about blocked and open corridors. Then she repeated, “Captain, this is Med Bay--”

The line crackled, and a few jubilant hoots carried over. “It's great to hear from you, Med Bay. What is your status?”

“We've got emergency power, but no gravity. Ensign York is severely wounded and Ms. Bowman is incapacitated. What happened, Sir?”

“Our transport made it, that's what happened. We're dead in space. Everyone left is heading for the shuttle, and we could really use some medpacks.”

“Can you send someone to help us, Captain? I don't know if I can get both these men to the shuttle by myself.”

“Do your best. When we can we'll send someone your way.”

“Understood. Med Bay out.” Richardson was quiet for a while. It sounded like she was tinkering with something. “Annie, I'm going to give you the anti-vertigo shot,” she said. “As soon as you're able to, I want you to take that pack and move as fast as you can toward the shuttle bay.”

“I'll never make it before I pass out.”

“That's all right. I have an idea. If it works, we'll be able to drag you the rest of the way. If it doesn't, I'll have to come back for you.”

“I'm ready.”

Richardson gave her the shot. Annie immediately reached up and opened her harness. The sudden movement of her body made her float free of the harness and spiral, slightly. She pressed the suction button on the vomit mask and heaved. Richardson caught her and steadied her spiral. “You weren't ready.”

“No. I'm ready. Push me toward the pack and then I'll pull myself up the wall. I've got to get started.”

Richardson braced her feet and pushed off, giving Annie a little momentum. She floated over to the backpack, overshot and banged her shoulder into the wall. She sat down on the wall next. The backpack was just above her. She grabbed it and put it on her back. Then she pulled her way to the door and through it.

Fortunately, it was mostly one long corridor from Med Bay to the shuttle. The vertigo was gone, replaced by a feeling like she was moving through increasingly viscous gel. For a long time she was alone. After five eternities, Something shot by. It grabbed at her. She resisted, but found herself swept along. “It's all right, it's us, Annie, look,” Richardson said. She reached out as they floated and pulled on a passing hand hold, speeding them up and slightly altering their trajectory.

“Good thinking, kid,” Annie said. “I'll hold on.”

“Max has got you.”

“Commander,” said Ensign York.

“Annie.” Everything seemed to be falling away, and in a sense it was, as the corridor flowed by. In another sense, it was Annie's perception as she fell unconscious under the sedative.

When Annie opened her eyes again, she was strapped into a couch again, but down was down again. She released the harness and sat up, rubbing the side of her head. She felt weak.

Richardson approached. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. The gravity is back on. Where are we? What's going on?”

“We're in the little med bay on the shuttle, heading for Earth.”

“We escaped the xenos?”

“Yeah. The captain had us hide in the shuttle bay until he had a clear path out of the gravity well, and we hit hyperspace before the aliens noticed us.”

“You did really well, Richardson.”

“Call me Mary,” she said. “And thanks.” Richardson shook her head. “Most of the transports made it, but we were one of the few escorts that escaped. Why are they doing this?” She sat down and put her face in her hands.

“I don't know,” Annie said, patting Richardson on the back.