Back on board the Enterprise, there was a strained atmosphere, unresolved conflicts that had only festered during the landfall. The captain seemed to be avoiding me, but I had no objections to that; it made it easier for me to help with the mutiny.
We had so little time to prepare. The harvesters would continue processing for three more days, and then the ship would break orbit and leave. Fortunately, Sulu and his colleagues had been working nonstop while Deanna Troi and I were down on Antioch, planning the coordination of more than one thousand people, making lists and schedules and calculations. They had done everything that could be done without me.
My own role was to provide access codes and passwords, to open doors and holds and chambers, to activate machinery and equipment we would need, to deactivate the alarms. They had planned incredibly well, far more thoroughly and creatively than I would ever have imagined.
I began to believe that it might actually work!
By the second day back I was exhausted, but none of us had much time for sleep. Minor missteps and problems arose with alarming regularity, but Sulu and Janice Rand and Francisco Avila were unconcerned each time; they had planned for them, and expected the, and their calm helped to ease my own anxieties.593Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuGagJL7xpq
I suggested revealing our plans to Father O'Heron, trying to convince them that not only would she be sympathetic to our cause, she might want to join us. I was emphatically voted down. For them, the Church was part of the upper decks, and that meant Father O'Heron as well. I pointed out that I, too, was from the upper decks, but to no avail; I realized for the first time that, with the exception of Sulu, they, too, despised me, and had only included me because they had no other choice. I considered withdrawing, even betraying them. Instead, I continued working.
I tried to find Charles. I wanted him to come with us to Antioch, to have a chance to begin a new life; it would be better, I thought, than what he had on the ship.593Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5bXIp0Dh72
I started my search in the chamber of abandoned machines. It was empty and quiet, and as I walked through the room, playing the light of my hand torch across the metal all around me, I called out his name, over and over. There was no response; there were no sounds at all except the now familiar ticking noise coming from somewhere in the distance.
When I reached the hollowed-out bay, everything was silent and deserted. The bishop's machine was dark and lifeless. Although I was still curious about the bishop's intentions, I had in some important way lost interest. Two more days, and I would be gone from this ship, and would never see the bishop or his machine again.
After searching the chamber, I roamed through several of the lower levels, asking people I met if they knew Charles, or knew of him. I wandered through a smoking club, nearly overpowered by the harsh stink of tobacco and star-leaf smoke, and asked about the boy at each table I passed. I got shaken heads, a few muttered negative words, but just as often I received silent, hostile glares.593Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7BKeLwyIQI
In a barter shop I was given shrugs and several offers for my exoskeleton, but no one admitted to knowing Charles.
On another deck I inadvertently interrupted a group of flesh gamblers, close to twenty men and women rolling twelve-sided illuminated dice into shadowed maze boxes. As the scarred and tattooed gamblers looked up at me, scowling, I quickly backed out of the darkened room without saying a word.
On the same deck, I walked into a small chapel, where a Shinto priest was quietly speaking with a dozen men and women. There were a number of smaller chapels like this scattered throughout the ship, mostly on the lower levels, with several unofficial and unsanctioned sects and alternative religious groups holding their services in defiance of the Church. The bishop was always trying to suppress them, but he received no support or cooperation from the captain or the Executive Council, so his efforts were ineffective. I don't think he understood that he was better off that way. I mumbled my apologies to the priest and removed myself.
I recognized a few of the people I saw, but most I had never seen before, something which no longer surprised me. Just as the bishop claimed that the ship had always existed, I sometimes imagined that it folded and twisted in on itself so that there were an infinite number of cabins and levels, and an infinite number of people. It made me feel lost and overwhelmed, and I wanted nothing more than to launch myself from the ship, escape its gravity, and drift out into the silent dark calm of space.
I'd almost given up. Two or three levels down, I came across the open doors of an ag room, a high-ceilinged hold of growing fields and a grove of fruit trees. A small herd of pygmy goats grazed at the edge of the field. Seven or eight people were working in a shed with planting boxes and soil and starter plants. I entered and walked toward them.
"I seek a boy," I said. "His name is Charles, he's about thirteen or fourteen years old." There was no response, although they were all staring at me, not all of them unfriendly. "No father, and his mother's sick, maybe dying."
A young woman who had been kneeling stood up and brushed dirt from her hands. She observed me for some time from where she stood, then said, "I know Charles." I estimated her age to be about twenty-five, perhaps a little older, dark hair cut short. "Why do you seek him?"
I took a few steps closer to the group. "I'm concerned about him. He said he was living on his own, no place to go. I was just hoping to find him, find family or friends who could take him in."
"Why do you care?" the woman asked.
She was gazing intently at me, and I felt compelled to answer her honestly. "Because he reminds me of myself."
The young woman broke away from the group and approached me. The others returned to their tasks. She put out her hand, and didn't flinch when I grasped it with my artificial fingers.
"My name is Abigail," she said. "Charles is my brother. Half brother."
"My name is Pavel."
She nodded. "I know who you are."
"Is that good or bad?" I asked, trying to smile.
She ignored the question. "I appreciate your concern, Pavel, but Charles will be all right. He always is."
"That may be so, but I still want to help him."
"He's a downsider. He doesn't need your help." And with that she turned away and rejoined her group.
I stood there for a minute, not wanting to leave. I felt rejected, which confused me. Abigail didn't look back, although a couple of the others glanced briefly in my direction as if they were afraid I was going to stay. I left.
Jean-Luc was preoccupied. We spoke rarely, and when we did, neither of us said anything of substance. He didn't raise the issue of his plan for dealing with the bishop in their power struggle, and I did not ask him about it, for I was afraid to be drawn into something that would take me away from the work I needed to do with Sulu and the others. I even began to wonder if he suspected me of something.593Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgBqbce2OOs
But if he did suspect, there was nothing that could be done. It was far too late for that now. There was no turning back.
And yet, at times, I wasn't sure why I was doing this. Why did I want to go back to that planet, a planet that held the dead, that induced nightmares?
I was not sleeping very much, and what little sleep I did get was disturbed by haunted dreams---visions of the dead, strings of bones making ghastly music as they clacked together in an uneasy breeze, rotting corpses floating through the air with eyes staring, tiny babies drowning in sand.
I could only hope that eventually the nightmares would end.
I thought often of Father O'Heron. I would miss her.
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