Chameleon Ch 22

“I’d love to show you all in a more comfortable environment,” Jackson announced to the crew. “However, we have a little while longer to stay and this is incredible. Mr. May?”

“Behold,” the lieutenant said, and set the recording to play on Adams’ biggest monitor. When the image appeared of the auroras, the deep blue and indigo waving like a flag, outlined in glistening silver, many of the faces expressed puzzlement, not the reaction Jackson had expected.
“What is it?” Chandra asked finally.

“It’s an aurora, at the stern of Maria Mitchell, as we entered the ion storm. Our electromagnetic 
generators act like the poles of the Earth, and Quixote was venting hydrogen, and this is the interaction with the particles and ions.” Jackson smiled. “Nothing like this has ever happened before – auroras in space!”

Mr. May skipped back and replayed the picture from the beginning. Jackson finally got the reaction he expected. With comprehension, the crew seemed stunned, awed with the beauty of the ultra violet dance of deadly radiation. Jackson sat with Rianya near the back of the group, more interested in her reaction than watching the light show.

“This is another three-moon eclipse, isn’t it?” she whispered.

“Almost.”

“These happen on Earth?”

“You have to be at the poles, the north part of the planet, to see them. They’re green there, visible spectrum of oxygen and nitrogen.”

“That’s wonderful, people can see them anytime.”

“Not quite, but this was unexpected.”

“The best things are usually unexpected.” She placed a hand on her enlarged abdomen.

“Absolutely. How is your chicken and the egg project?”

“It’s not. I just haven’t had the concentration on it. Maybe I’ll pick it up on the way back.”

“I have a feeling you’re going to be otherwise busy.”

“I have a feeling you’re right.”

The ship lurched aft, and the crew as well. A chorus of surprise burbled through sick bay. Jackson walked across the corridor to the CIC and found Quixote and Cerebrus still at the helm.

“What are you two still doing here?”

“It didn’t seem appropriate to wake the crew when they are finally all synchronized in sleep,” the reptilian XO said to him.

“What was that bump?”

“A grouping of particles.” Cerebrus answered.

“Four AUs from the storm?”

“Apparently, sir, a stray,” Quixote explained.

“Turn the bow slightly into waves, that will help some. And button it up. I’ll get your relief.” When he returned to sick bay, the light show was ending. “Yellow bridge shift,” he shouted, “sunrise started twenty minutes ago. Get across the hall double time.”

Every crew member fell silent and stopped whatever they had been occupied with moments before, even the children. Rougeau and Watson scrambled to their feet and humbly scattered out the door, leaving their breakfast plates on the floor.

“This is not shore leave,” he said, just loud enough for everyone to hear and no more. He hadn’t expected the alarm he roused, but perhaps he could use it to his benefit anyway. “If you’re on sunrise, stay on your shift. Do what you can from sick bay. If you run out of things to do, ask me for more work.”  He turned without his usual ‘dismissed’ since they couldn’t go anywhere. Then he turned back. “As you were.”

þ

“Captain,” Jane called as he walked by the lab. He returned to the small crowd of relatively quiet people at a table. “Join us?” Jackson saw a familiar sight on the table. A flat square designed with sixty-four black and white smaller squares. Minute, various-shaped figures, also black and white, occupied different squares all over the panel.

“Chess.”

“Do you play, sir?” Rosalyn asked.

He did. He played chess and was lightly tormented by peers as a bit of an outcast for liking an old, slow, non-electronic game. He had few competitors, more often the computer than another human. His closest challenger was Quixote. A flutter of mischief teased his conscience.

“Yes, but… it’s been a few years,” he said.

“This game’s about over. Play the winner?” Jane asked. Jackson sized up the two players: Painter and Chandra. A glance at the game board suggested Chandra would win in four or five more moves. At least, she should.

“Where did so many chess players come from? I usually play the computer.”

“We all did, but now we play each other.” Jackson was just bored enough after two days shut in the sick bay to let his energy out with a game of wits. He watched Painter, then Chandra, to gauge their skill level. Painter didn’t seem to be making much effort to checkmate. Chandra was setting up the board, but Painter hadn’t exposed his king. Then she placed irresistible bait, moving her queen into danger from his king’s pawn. He took it, not recognizing that the pawn’s diagonal capture left the king vulnerable. He moved it one space. She placed a bishop on the diagonal.

“Checkmate.”

Painter had been caught off guard, not realizing the bishop’s move was next. Once it moved to its threatening square, he saw the whole thing.

“Pay up, Ron,” she said with a smile. He also could only smile and shake his head.

“I did not see that at all.” Ron stood and shook off his loss. “How do you take it?”

“Cream, no sugar,” she told him. “Captain, you’re next?”

“I’m afraid so. That was well played,” he flattered. Painter set a cup of pale brown coffee on the table next to Dr. Chandra. “But if you get coffee, I get coffee.”

“Allow me, sir,” Painter said.

“Black, four sugar.”

“Are you an avid player, sir?” she asked.

“In my younger days. I’m not sure I’ve played another human in quite some time. With respect to our coffee, you can play white. I’ll take black.” They each took a drink and set up the board.

Jackson felt about fifty eyeballs on the back of his head. He’d seen her strategy, but she’d not seen his. She moved the pawn in front of her knight. He moved a pawn to open his rook.

The game continued, but she wouldn’t open her king. He’d taken a knight, she’d taken a bishop. His queen was open to advance, and protected from seizure. He opened his king to lead her into check, expecting her to make a similar move. She didn’t, moving another pawn. He moved his queen along white squares to check her king as soon as it was open. She saw it. He’d have to force her to move that pawn. He laid a trap on the other side of the board.

In two more moves, she’d forgotten about his queen laying in wait. To check his king, she’d moved a rook into a potentially threatening position, and this move she jumped a knight. If he moved his king, she could check it in two moves.

“Check,” she said triumphantly, lifting her coffee cup to her lips. In her eagerness to check him, and with few other moves open, pieces all over the board, she had moved her bishop’s pawn to capture his bait. The path was wide open for his queen to slide along the white square in a diagonal.

“Checkmate.” He had her pinned. No matter if the king moved into the open spot, his other knight would jump to capture it, or his queen.

“Damn, Captain.” A quiet round of cheers and backslaps for Jackson escalated briefly. “I owe you another cup of coffee, sir. And that’s the best game I’ve played in ages,” she added.

“You gave me a challenge. But I must disclose something. I was the California State Champion, before it was split into two states, in high school. Yes, I’m that old.”

“Anyone going to play the winner?” Jane asked. Several groans and no’s were voiced as the pool of participants dispersed throughout the sick bay.

“Sorry to break up the party,” Jackson chuckled. He turned quickly and Rianya stood in his way. “Love.”

“Causing trouble?” she asked.

“I’ll be back, I have to go check on our progress.”

“How about lunch first?”

“I’ll be right back.” He squeezed her hand, a stretch of affection for him in front of the crew. He took his coffee with him across the hallway to the CIC room.

He found Cerebrus at the helm engaged in several activities at the same time. In addition to sitting in the pilot seat, he hummed a Debussy tune, and seemed to be loading data on a portable pad. He looked around when Jackson entered and took a few steps.

“Captain, good afternoon.”

“Where’s Lee?” he asked.

“I presume if he isn’t here he is in sick bay.”

“How much longer until we’re out from under this thing?”

“Three hours, twenty-one minutes. Approximately.”

“Are you sure? You seem to be occupied with more than piloting us around this storm.” He took a drink of his checkmate coffee.

“As an Astronomite, I’m able to multi-task. It’s one of the things that makes me better than humans.”

“Excuse me?”

“Regarding astronomy and astrophysics.”

“What about multi-tasking?”

“Yes, that too.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate you just focusing on one thing at a time.” Jackson simmered on the android’s words. “And give us the all clear as soon as we reach five AU’s beyond the cloud.”

“Aye, Captain.”