“So, this is something new?” McCoy asked.
Shaun felt as if he was back on the couch. What was it about doctors that made them think everybody was on the verge of going space-happy? Not that he wasn’t entitled to a nervous breakdown right now, considering. He thought he was holding up pretty well given that he wasn’t even himself anymore.
“I’ve just got this stubborn drumbeat stuck in my head,” he tried to explain. “Like a catchy melody you can’t shake, you know?”
At least the Enterprise didn’t seem to be afflicted with Muzak. That was something, although he had to wonder what constituted easy listening in the twenty-third century. Lady Gaga was probably considered classical music these days.
“And how long has that been going on?” McCoy asked.
Shaun thought about it. His eyes widened. “Ever since that probe zapped me here,” he realized. “Now that I think of it.”
Glancing down, he saw that he had automatically starting drumming his fingers again. He fought to keep his feet from joining in.
“What the—?” He gazed anxiously at McCoy. “What does this mean, Doc?”
McCoy frowned. “The hell if I know.”
An intercom whistled. “Dr. McCoy,” a female voice paged. “Please report to the landing deck. The first wave of evacuees has arrived. Some of them require medical attention.”
“Evacuees?” Shaun echoed. That didn’t sound good.
“Not your problem.” McCoy pressed the speaker button on a wall-mounted intercom unit. “McCoy here. On my way.” He headed for the exit, then paused to look back at Shaun. “You going to be okay here?”
“Sure,” Shaun lied. Aside from being trapped in the future with an alien beat stuck in somebody else’s head, he had nothing to complain about. “Go ahead. Do your job.” He relocated to his bed and stretched out on it, staring at the ceiling. “I’m not going anywhere.”
McCoy looked uncomfortable abandoning him. “I’ll have Chapel look into that viewer,” he promised.
The door slid open before him. Shaun caught a glimpse of a larger medical facility before the door whooshed shut again, closing him in. His spirits sank at the prospect of being cooped up with nothing but his thoughts for company. An overwhelming wave of homesickness, for his own time and place, washed over him. He wondered if he would ever see his friends and family again. In theory, his dad, his kids, and his crew had all been dead for centuries. He choked back a sob. A beautiful face surfaced from his memory.
Fontana, he thought. Alice.
He wished he could have said something to her before he disappeared.
Twenty
2020
“Feel like a bite?”
O’Herlihy ascended into the flight deck bearing a meal on a tray. Magnetic utensils clung to the reusable metal tray, which also held slots for various disposable foil and plastic containers. Fontana caught a whiff of rehydrated macaroni and cheese, along with freshly nuked apple cobbler. O’Herlihy had brought ketchup and Tabasco sauce, too. Life in space deadened the taste buds for some reason, so most astronauts tended to pile on the condiments and seasonings to compensate. The sticky food stayed in place in zero g.
“Not really,” she said. Dejected and not particularly hungry, she sat in the cockpit while reviewing the preflight checklist for their trip home, which was now scheduled for 0700 tomorrow. She was not looking forward to being the sole pilot for the next three months, let alone explaining to Houston why that was the case. She was still trying to figure out how to break the news to Mission Control that she had confined the ship’s commander to the airlock on suspicion of being possessed by an alien probe.
They’re going to think I’ve gone crazy, not Shaun.
“Eat something anyway,” the doctor urged her. He sat down beside her, occupying her usual seat at the helm. “You need to keep your strength up. You’ve had a rough day.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” The aroma from the food did little to restore her appetite; her stomach felt tied up in knots. Second thoughts tormented her. She fiddled anxiously with Shaun’s father’s dog tags. “You don’t think I’m crazy, do you? We had to lock him up, right?”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” he said wearily, sounding appropriately saturnine. “This entire trip has been one shock after another. I feel like I’m at the end of my rope.”
Fontana knew the feeling. This wasn’t the carefully planned mission she had signed on for.
“He didn’t even know his own kid’s birthday!” she blurted, unsure whom exactly she was trying to convince. “On top of everything else, like forgetting my dog and the fire on the Mir and what we meant to each other…”
It felt odd speaking openly of her history with Shaun, but frankly, that was the least of her worries. A little scandal and gossip was nothing compared with what had happened to Shaun, whatever that was. She just wanted the old Shaun back.
“I can’t explain any of that,” O’Herlihy admitted, “unless the jolt from the probe really did wipe his memory clean. Electroshock is well known to induce various degrees of memory loss.”
“No, it’s more than that,” she insisted. “I know Shaun, better than anyone on this ship, and that’s not him. I can feel it in my gut, even though I know that doesn’t sound very scientific.”
“I fear we left conventional science and logic behind a long time ago,” he said. “Perhaps when Saturn’s rings started unraveling and then snapped back into place.” He pushed the tray at her. “Really, Alice. You need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.” She appreciated his concern, but food was the last thing on her mind right now. If anything, she felt sick to her stomach. She waved the tray away. “Maybe later, okay?”
“At least have some hot tea,” he pressed. “To soothe your nerves.”
“Fat chance.” She found his solicitous attitude both amusing and annoying. “Stop clucking at me, Doc. You’re in danger of becoming a cliché.”
“Just drink the damn tea,” he said patiently. “Doctor’s orders.”
She knew a losing battle when she saw one. “Yes, Mother.” She accepted the sealed, microwave-safe bottle, which was warm to the touch. Conventional teacups were useless in space; you couldn’t pour without gravity. She sipped the hot beverage through a straw. “Happy now?”
“Yes, thank you.” He hooked the tray to the control panel in front of him. “For later, if you feel like it.”
“We’ll see.”
She finished off the spicy tea, not quite recognizing the flavor. It had a peculiar aftertaste that she chalked up to the effects of zero gravity on her taste buds. Despite the doc’s prediction, the tea did little to ease her anguished spirit. She couldn’t stop thinking about Shaun and what might have become of him.
“Do you think they’ll be able to fix him?” she asked. “Back on Earth?”
“I wish I knew. If you want, I can examine him again, once we’re under way. But I’m not exactly equipped to perform brain scans out here. That may have to wait until we’re back home.”
Three months from now…
“I understand,” she said glumly.
Fontana knew she had to face the possibility that the real Shaun, the one she’d loved, was gone forever, replaced by whatever impostor was wearing his face and body. She recalled kissing him in the airlock right before he jetted out to try to capture the probe. That was probably the last time she had seen the real Shaun.