Chapter 1 - Ship

THE VAST SKELETAL CYLINDER called The Yard rotated majestically, end-on to the Earth.  Procurement Officer Richard Purves always imagined it like a cigarette about to be stubbed out on the planet.  He’d long since lost the magic of space-travel and seeing massive numbers of ships lined up next to each other in one place did nothing for him.  Not so his niece, Caroline.  After much negotiation, she’d persuaded her mother and then her uncle to let her come.  Lena’s wide eyes gleamed from deep in her spacesuit.  For Richard, it was another day at the office, and he needed to find a suitable salvage hulk that could be recommissioned for the next chugging-about task required by the British Navy, a task that someone in procurement had been performing for his or her Majesty for six hundred-odd years.  He didn’t suppose that the likelihood of finding a decent hulk to purchase in this particular shipyard was all that different either.  He gazed down the row of abandoned freighters, mining vessels and leaky pleasure cruisers and sighed, misting his visor. 

Uncle Richard? 

Lena was a well behaved ten-year-old, but hell could she talk.  Having no children of his own and no way to hand this one back till the shuttle touched down in Glasgow, today was becoming a lengthy affair.  The tugging on his suit was not endearing her to him.

Uncle Richard?

What? Then because she’d jumped, Sorry, you startled me.  What were you saying?

I—was going to say, what about this pretty rainbow one?

Lena indicated an unpromising-looking haulage vessel, unmarked, unloved and, well he’d think of other ‘uns’ later.  It would just about fit the size specs he’d been given but it would blow his refit budget for now and the next three years.  He drew in a breath.

I like her! said Lena, jumping, can we pick her?

And where the hell had she got rainbows from?  Richard wondered how long ago it was that he’d had that kind of imagination.  Had she seen hydraulic fluid or something else leaking he’d missed?  He retraced his steps to the battered metallic hulk and peered under it, asking absently How do you know it’s a her?

She told me.

Chapter 2 - Ship

RICHARD PURVES WAS tired. Not just standard procurement-officer-of-Her-Majesty’s-Navy tired, but bone-deep-half-way-through-the-tricky-stage-of-a-complicated-procurement kind of tired. What he really wanted was to lay his head down on the long oak committee table and nap. Instead, he smiled weakly and refilled his water glass. He could feel the stares from the other committee members boring into him.

His arm pad vibrated, telling him he had a personal message. He could read the header on his implant without even moving his eyes. A message, from his sister Rachel: Remember Lena’s Birthday! He dismissed the icon to read later. It was his niece who had got him into the mess with this sodding ship in the first place.

Purves!

Richard started.

"About a replacement Captain?" the chair of the committee, Admiral Jeremy Burleigh-Hall, was notorious for his inability to suffer fools. Richard had spent most of his career avoiding being one—until this ship. This sodding ship. Two captains had quit and it was only sea trials. Well, space trials, but in the British Navy it didn’t matter if your vessel sailed in the ocean or the vast void of interstellar nothingness, to Her Majesty’s Navy, a ship was a ship, terminology, ritual and all.

I have a suggestion, if I may? Rescue from Richards’ left, someone who he hadn’t noticed when he’d come in—a thirty-something woman, hair tied back in a tight bun, looked a bit like Rachel. There is a candidate I’ve suggested before?

The Indian girl? said the Admiral.

Richard had a coughing fit.

The woman-who-looked-like-Rachel swept her com stylus like a wand, painting a picture that could only be read from her perspective. Her family is from Oxford. She graduated top of her class at Dartmouth. Her first degree is in Classics from Cambridge.

Oh, she’s a classicist! the admiral bubbled.

Woman-who-looked-like-Rachel dropped her com-stylus. It clattered onto the shiny top of the massive antique mahogany table. Richard went to pick it up and then thought better of it. He put his hands either side of his face like blinkers on a horse and stared at the surface of the table. He wondered if someone from five hundred years ago would have stared at the same table, discussing ships built of wood.

Richard, do you know this young girl?

I’ve not met Lieutenant Commander Varma personally but her service record is exemplary.

This would be her first ship...

This was a yawning gap for Richard to fall into and he knew it. An untried captain in this role could cause all kinds of trouble. Especially with the newfound sensitivity of the mission. But so far, one experienced and one retiring captain had quit what was becoming a ‘problem job’, his choices were limited.

Well—

Good, said the admiral, let’s make this one work, eh? You’ll meet her today, of course. Not a question. The Navy had a way of doing that. The Admiral requests...

Richard gazed imploringly at Woman-who-looked-like-Rachel. She was focused on the next display she’d wanded into existence in front of her and was staring right through him, presumably requesting and requiring poor Lt Com Varma.  All sorted, you meet her at the international docking station at sixteen-hundred hours. I’ve sent her a briefing.

Another message beeped on Richard’s arm pad. Don’t forget you’re taking Lena shopping this afternoon and she’s meant to be staying in Greenwich with you tonight as a treat.

Today was just getting better.

Chapter 3 - Ship

UNCLE RICHIE, LOOK at this one!

Only Lena called him Richie. He wished he were a Richie in some ways, but the name never really fit him. Same way some people were Andrew and never Andy. He couldn’t carry off that level of informality, he never had. Perhaps, it was how his parents had brought him up. And what they’d have thought of the spray-on outfit Lena was suggesting he buy for her, God alone knew. If she went home in it, Rachel would kill him. Was there a word to cover Best-Uncle-Whilst-Being-Worst-Brother-Ever?

He loosened his tie and cocked his head to one side in a way he hoped indicated quizzical disapproval. Then a flicker in the corner of his vision made him stop. He raised a finger to Lena and turned slightly to square up to the window of the shop to the side of him. The dress was astonishing. It was a full-length dress, so out-of-fashion these days, but this one had layers and layers of holo-projection over a plain white shift. Currently running on its advertising cycle was a waterfall. At the bottom of the window was a sign reading: Shout me a new look and I’ll change! He felt Lena at his shoulder.

Booly! she grinned. Richard rolled his eyes inwardly. It was pre-teen speak for good. She acknowledged the sign with a tilt of her head, Think it works?

Richard shrugged. He had also noticed the price, which was sat on the floor neatly written in a cursive hand and eye-watering.

Forest! said Lena. The water fell away and when it had, autumnal leaves were falling gently in the clearing of a beautiful forest, the likes of which were tricky to find in real-life England anymore.

Wow, she was open-mouthed. The dress interpreted her request, with a montage of large bright eyes with expanding pupils, open mouths and the word itself in a thousand different fonts.

Then the requests came thick and fast: stars, volcanoes, squirrels and finally, Nothing!

The dress promptly disappeared, not even a mannequin was visible beneath it, the two of them gazed instead at the back of the shop window.

I. Have. To. Have. That. Dress.

Mmm, hmm, Richard was already at the controls of his arm-pad, searching for the RFID tag of the shop and enacting the kind of expensive security protocols that still came as standard in a job in the Navy.

The window made a cheery crescendo of notes and rose accordingly. The other side of it, was of course, nothing like a shop at all. Sat on a lilac velvet cushion in a small gunmetal alcove was a flat white box. Lena held her hands intertwined in front of her, Go ahead, he said. Instead, she pivoted smoothly and wrapped him in an enormous hug. He tried to smile, extricate himself and make a noise to indicate urgency of the window closing.

Oh, sorry, she said and grabbed the package, beaming.

His arm pad buzzed: a timer. We should go and eat,

Could I get changed into this, first?

Sure, I don’t know where though.

Isn’t the ship near here?

Yes? Oh no.

What Uncle Richie? Aw come on, let me see her again? Please?

The thought of exposing her to the miasma of swearing that currently engulfed the ship was not appealing. If she went home with a newly expanded vocabulary Richard would again be lynched after having worked so hard to find a suitable gift.

Could we not find a public bathroom?

What with all the druggies and the streeto-s?

In a restaurant—

You know how much room there is in those places. After you having spent so much money on my present, I don’t want to wreck it on the first outing. Come on, Uncle Richie, I’ll be good, I promise I won’t touch anything, pleee-ease.

Richard huffed and turned in the direction of the mooring bays.

Thank you, thank you thank you thank you! She was nearly hopping as she fell into stride alongside him.

The trip to the dock was a maze of security doors, Lena kept up with the enthusiasm of one not yet eleven.

At the final door, a more substantial bulkhead plastered with security warnings was matched with a porthole to see through to the bay beyond. This was how Richard stepped to one side and avoided collision with a woman coming out in grey overalls and a bandana. She was brandishing a particle wrench, almost didn’t acknowledge them at all, and stomped off into the port.

Grumpy, said Lena.

Stressed, replied Richard, frowning. He glanced through the doorway to check for other cross engineers. Mind the step, he said over his shoulder. He saw the ship and sighed. It was still the same uninspiring grey metal hulk he’d left this morning. He puffed out air from the corner of his mouth, like a pipe-less Popeye, "Here she is, the freshly named RSSV Bonington."

Lena nearly tripped headlong onto the dockside, she recovered, frowning at Richard. But when she craned round him to see the ship, she beamed from ear-to-ear.

Chapter 4 - Ship

LENA THOUGHT THE SHIP seemed less ‘glowy’ than when she’d seen it last. Still a beautiful pearlescent work of art, but something was different. Uncle Richard had stomped off in search of the Chief Engineer, having left Lena in his cabin with multi-coloured threats of the consequences of wandering before he got back.

The cabin was beautiful. No surface met another at right angles. The walls had a faint blue tinge, fading to white in the corners. There was a table in the centre of the room, like a waist-high mushroom with a fine flat top like the stem of an upturned wine glass. She placed her package carefully on it, and her hands on her hips. The oval door she’d come through closed like a wound, with a soft bong. It bonged again and a faint outline in pink marked where the door had been. Did that mean it was locked now? She’d have to take a chance.

She folded her jeans and placed them on the table next to the box, putting her pumps on the floor next to them. She looked down at her rather sad retro green and white tennis shoes. If this new dress were half as good in real life, she’d need to consider new footwear to go with it. Perhaps Mum would spring for a new pair of boots. She lifted the lid of the box and removed a layer of beautiful pink nanofiber packing with an animated note with a floating icon that she collected with a swipe of her arm pad, which beeped. She shrugged the dress over her head and then she checked her pad to see what instructions the icon had loaded. There were quite a lot. That could wait for another time, another day. There was a flashing notice saying demo. She made the click in her mouth she’d trained her pad to listen for when her hands were full. It seemed to be the cycle of images from the shop window, which she stopped on forest. That would do, this evening, she would be a forest. She stood and the whole wall next to the door had turned into a mirror. The dress was astonishing. She was sure it had a faint scent of pine too. If she didn’t walk too fast, she could get about without her tennis shoes showing. At least they had green stripes. She turned back to the screen and had the oddest feeling she was being watched. No, not being watched exactly. No-one was looking at her but rather a presence was aware of her. The ship. The ship was pleased she was enjoying herself.

She shook her head. This was odd in so many ways. Was she making all this up? Her mother and her Uncle Richard would certainly think so. A piece of tech couldn’t talk to her, not really. You’re a big girl now... was becoming an old favourite in their apartment, followed by entreaties to do or stop doing or believing something. She blinked at her reflection. How had the ship known to do that? She must have muttered something. She sighed, gathered up her frock and headed to the door. It opened as she approached. Lena shook her head and stomped out into the corridor. She searched her pad for a schematic of where she was, to find her Uncle. The pad presented nothing except the dots representing each person, no walls, nothing. Perhaps there was some crazy security lockdown on military vessels. There was a broad outline of the outer edges of the ship, but nothing inside except the twenty or so dots representing the people comprising the commissioning crew. She stared at the walls, then down again at the pad. Walls or not, Uncle Richard wasn’t far away, and her stomach had started to rumble. She strode off to find him.

Chapter 5 - Ship

"THIS IS hopeless!"

Or perhaps it’s you that’s hopeless.

Belay that XO or I’ll have you up on a charge.

Lena was expecting the bridge of a starship to be less, well, shouty than this.

The room was made of the same beautiful opal, touchable surfaces, the temperature was cool but refreshingly so, even the smell was not what she’d have expected from a star ship. Living room, maybe? Clean but not clinical, gentle, sweet smells, but nothing too strong. Three people shouted at each other in front of the massive bank of what Lena assumed were control panels. The smooth featureless curve of a screen faced them and the blank, white upward-facing control surface sat beneath, equally flat and uniform.

There were two very tall officers arguing with a small woman with both an ISRO patch and more stripes than the two officers.

Captain, I’ve been trying for six days. There’s power there for sure, but when we try to sustain a reaction in the engines, it turns over and then fizzles out. I’ve field-stripped everything I can, cleaned everything and run every diagnostic test that there is. Lena liked the engineer as soon as she saw her. She was tall with ginger braided hair tied up to her head and running down behind her in a plait which swayed in front of the word McGregor on her baggy white coveralls. Dinnae touch that!

The engineer’s slight Glaswegian lilt seemed fiercer when it was aimed at Lena. She didn’t even realise she’d been running a finger along the console. It was smooth, but not cold to the touch. Lena felt McGregor staring at her till she removed the offending hand. She grinned weakly, then mouthed sorry.

McGregor snapped her head back to the argument.

We need some progress here, Jenny. The ISRO officer had her hands on her hips.

Aye and you’d be getting more if that streak of pish didnae shout so much at my engineers that they run off the ship.

I’m sorry, but if your cadets cannot handle discipline, they shouldn’t be in the Navy.

McGregor barked.

That’s enough, you two. I’m in charge on this ship.

Yes cap’n, said McGregor.

Only commander, reminded the tall man with a smile.

The shorter woman scowled back, And why, Lieutenant, is there a child on my bridge?

They all turned towards Lena. She took a reflexive step backwards, then stopped against the console. Gripping the edge, she put forward what she thought was her most innocent smile. It didn’t seem like it was working as the expressions froze on everyone’s faces. Lena hoped they wouldn’t shout at her the way they’d been going at each other. But they were looking right through her. She turned her head slowly, eyes as far round as they could turn in their sockets. The console was lit up and the whole wall above it was showing the view into space. She unwound the rest of her body, a slow-motion pirouette—it was so beautiful. Space was spread out before them sparkling, like how Lena imagined the connections inside her mind. She’d travelled on short space trips before, a lot for someone her age with an academic mother and an uncle in the Navy, but all the commercial ships weren’t hugely big on windows. Cheaper to build safe than pretty. Portholes were small and people who got access to them paid more for the privilege. But this? She could imagine everywhere.

What ha... ve... yo... u-? A voice stretched out from behind her, but never finished. She blacked out.

Chapter 6 - Ship

VOICES SCREAMING OUTSIDE. Were they talking to her? Lena tried to look around her but couldn’t. It flashed across her mind to panic, but then it felt like a warm hand was holding hers. The feeling spread through her whole body, as if all of her was being hugged at once. Where was she? Lying down somewhere in one sense, that was where her body seemed to be, but the rest of her? Her mind? Somewhere quite different, and she was not alone. The hand-holding and hugging was another presence. She felt the essence of a smile before her, though ‘before’ or ‘in front’ didn’t seem to describe where anything was very well. It was everywhere at once, or could be, but at the same time it was in the forefront of her awareness. The smile was an introduction—a great big beaming idea of a smile. Like the Cheshire cat, but friendlier, no sign of sinister to it. A welcoming smile. A hello smile. She found herself smiling back.

Once she’d started relaxing, Lena realised that the presence was familiar. It was all the things she’d experienced when she touched the ship before. Her friend? Maybe it could be. It was like those early heady days of play dates with someone new. The connection was there, everything lay undiscovered and neither person knew where it could lead. It seemed as though she was lying in a hammock, but her new friend, she’d need a name soon, calling her ship seemed rude, her new friend wanted to take her hand and show her round.

In front of her, her nebulous Cheshire cat was juggling balls, but all different sizes and colours. Not balls, planets. Was she being given a choice here? Which one was her favourite? That was easy. With a ceiling full of planets on wires since she was a child, she’d always had a favourite. She reached out and tapped the halo of the beautiful dun-coloured orb of Saturn. Her friend grinned. How was it possible to know that? Regardless, she could feel the fizzing enthusiasm for the idea, then a hand reaching for hers again. Would she like to go outside? It’ll be fun. Sure, why not?

Everything was stars, whipping past at a blinding rate, Lena’s arm was outstretched and in her hand was a small warm opalescent egg attached to a long white tentacle, one of a massive glowing and pulsing mane of them. The ship was like a huge phosphorescent deep-sea creature with frills and flashes, rolling and twisting through the deep, but so, so, so fast. Part of Lena’s mind, the analytical part of her, wanted to know what was really happening, how was it happening, how fast was she travelling and how was she going that fast? As a small part of her opened that door, she could see herself, stretched all the way back to the dock, a piece of impossible elastic and she heard screaming, panic everywhere around her, bright lights shining, sharp pain in her arm. She felt woozy. Wait. Stay, it’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine. Nearly there, don’t worry. But she couldn’t keep her awareness aware anymore and slipped away.

Chapter 7 - Ship

LENA’S EARS CAME BACK on-line first. She couldn’t move and couldn’t open her eyes.

No swearing on this ship! yelled the First Officer, I won’t have it.

But where are we?

Look up, you idiot.

Oh.

’Where are we?’ is far from the right question, the unmistakable voice of the captain. Thoughtful but long-suffering. Paging Chief Engineer, get your skinny ass back up to the bridge dearie, I need you to tell me what the hell just happened.

Excuse me? Uncle Richie’s voice, quite close by, but in a tone Lena wasn’t at all used to. Concern? Lack of confidence? Uncertainty? Something like that. Can we turn our attention to—?

Lena heard the hissing the First Officer used to indicate disdain.

Ah, the captain again, yes. Hmm. Her voice became nearer, but quieter. Yes, let’s get the doc up here too, shall we?

Lena flinched as someone touched her hair. She still couldn’t open her eyes or move anything, but was warm and comfortable, so for the minute, she chose to relax and enjoy the chaos that seemed to be ensuing around her.

Lots more swearing, a brief shouting match, someone getting sent off the bridge on a charge, which sounded to Lena like a grown-up version of the time-outs she’d luckily been experiencing less and less of with her mother.

Has anyone contacted her mother? said the captain.

Uncle Richard made a strangled noise in his throat.

Contacting anyone’s gonna take a wee while until we work out where we are—oh— the Glasgow tones of the engineer, were not well-suited to surprise.

Lena wanted to sit up and talk to everyone. She just needed to get the signals to her parts. Eyes first, maybe. She managed to move her eyeballs, from there she turned her attention to her eyelids. They were heavy or at least gummed shut somehow.

Hey there Lena. The soft voice of her uncle, by her ear. She’s coming round.

Easy there, said a new, deep, male voice accompanied by a waft of disinfectant and peppermints. Don’t move yet. She felt a gentle hand on her arm and a medical cuff being wrapped round it. Let’s have a quick look, mmm? Before anyone moves anywhere.

The cuff beeped and whirred, contracted and relaxed, and finally hissed as it finished its diagnostic cycle. There was a moment of silence. Lena tried to move her eyelids again.

Well, Doctor Fuller? the captain’s voice again.

She’s fit as a flea.

But—

Yes, I know, Doctor Fuller had excellent reassuring tones. If his skills were any kind of match for his bedside manner, they were all going to be fine. Ben! he called into the room. Fetch me some wipes please.

Slowly but surely, with two sets of hands working on her, wiping, and wringing out lemony scented water, Lena managed to open