* READ AUTHOR'S NOTE *: some elements have been changed from canonical tradition. For example, Lucas Wolenczak graduated from Stanford with an M.S. in Artificial Intelligence, as well as a subject concentration in physics/mathematics. Some dates may appear suspiciously outside canon. In addition, because of the Non-Allied Powers (situated in a place called "Dominia," another element outside the seaQuest canon), this work can be seen as an Alternative Universe piece.
* NOTE ON BACKGROUND STORY *: For reading this section of the story, it may be helpful to read "Away from Monsters," which is on this same web site.
* NOTE ON SCIENTIFIC (DIS)REALITY *: Unfortunately, I'm not Steven Hawking when it comes to the sciences. There may be some content in this section (particularly surrounding the creation of a certain renegade vortex) that are absurdly nonrealistic. I'd encourage a dose of "suspension of disbelief."
Rating: PG-13, rated as such because of some adult themes and language.
Copyright 1999 by SheriAnn
Entanglements with the Enemy
Part Four
Alicia Noyce couldn't believe what'd just happened. She couldn't believe that, somehow, this one missing person had just blown half her ship apart.
Who could believe it?
As far as she could tell, the Ulysses was completely disabled. It'd need to be dry-docked for months to make it even operational, much less at full power. There was no centralized computer control, no propulsion (not that it'd been on-line earlier), no anything. The only thing they'd been able to get working again was the power. They had lights, they had air conditioning, they had electricity. But they had nothing they needed to chug this ship from UEO waters to Dominia. A plague on it, but they were stuck in the middle of enemy territory in a ship leaking from stern to stern.
Again, she stared at the holes. She'd never seen anything like this. Gaping, dripping holes ranging in size from one or two inches to one or two feet now slashed through over half the ship's thick, metallic inner walls. Several floors had even been compromised. The moonpool, science and oceanography lab, and the specimen room were obliterated. Not a fragment of equipment could be salvaged from the mess. Black circles outlined each hole, burned darkly into the metal; she thought the burns would probably be permanent. Lord, such damage . . . created by one person.
What on earth had been used? She knew a lot about the UEO's weapons programs, and not one of them-not one of them-seemed to involve this type of technology. Not one of them could've created such destruction from utility-quality, low-grade laser beams and normal, boring water.
Her government would gladly pardon the near-destruction of the Ulysses if she could get her hands on this new weapon. For that was all it could be. A prototype for what was likely the most dangerous weapon she'd ever seen. It was immensely destructive, somehow combining two of the easiest found resources on earth in a reaction capable of destroying a large ship in less than three minutes. Even now, she remembered that howl: the moan, the echo, the screech of wind sheering straight through metal.
God, it'd been frightening. Wind had rushed up around her, knocking her roughly to the floor. Chairs, tables, papers, computers . . . all had flown in this air made suddenly lethal. Even as far from the lab as she'd been, she'd seen a wound rupture in the wall right before her very eyes. All-all created by water and lasers.
Nelson had called it something else: a reverse gravitational funnel injected with anti-bonded energy. In other words, an unstable vortex. An unstable vortex in a very bad mood.
Nelson, however, didn't even know how to begin to produce something like this.
And he didn't know who the hell did know.
She looked over at him. Right now, he was bent over his computer, eyes strained. His hair was plastered across his cheeks, but he didn't seem to care. This unstable vortex had frightened the shit right out of him. Out of all of them, in fact.
She was picking up yet another piece of furniture when she saw Nelson frantically wave her towards him. Dropping the chair leg, she ran to his side-and found that his news had definitely been worth running for.
They had him. They finally, finally had him.
Nelson gestured at the computer screen. The name was Lucas Daniel Wolenczak. Apparently, he was the seaQuest's computer expert and physicist. He'd invented a device called the vocorder, which apparently translated "dolphinese" to a rudimentary human grammar. He also specialized in computer hacking and security, tide predictions, global warming problems, earthquake fault zones, sea floor topography, to name a few projects. She watched as Nelson scrolled down to the list of his main projects and caught her breath. Two little words glowered out at her: vortex engineering. A five-paged synopsis of his latest activities recounted vortex trials, unexpected holes in the roofing, nightmare near-explosions, and gigantic equations filled with enough twists and turns and strange symbols to give her a migraine.
And then there was his picture. Nelson finally scrolled down to it. Alicia simply stared at what she saw.
Yes, this was the figure she'd seen running out of her sights in the Mess Hall.
But, dear God Almighty, he wasn't an adult; he was a child.
As startled as she was, Nelson paged down to the boy's birthdate.
Lucas Wolenczak was only fifteen years old.
Noyce dropped heavily into a chair. Half her ship had been blown to pieces by a fifteen year-old computer scientist and physicist turned saboteur.
*****
Sitting silently in the captain's quarters of the Ulysses, Alicia Noyce pondered her latest discovery. Though she'd seen the file, though she'd seen his image, though she'd even seen the obvious fact that this was the figure she'd glimpsed running from her laser's sights, she couldn't quite bring herself to accept the truth of what she'd seen. A boy. A boy blowing up her ship. A boy-genius, a computer geek of only fifteen years of age crippling the Ulysses behind the very backs of twenty fully armed and trained military officers. The fact simply wouldn't fit into her perception of the world. Her reality couldn't accept this reality . . . but she had to if she were ever to decide what was to be done.
What was to be done. The words were so . . . easy to say. But when one considered what they meant, they were no longer easy. They were the hardest five words in the human tongue. This was her boat-her responsibility. This was her command. Obviously, she couldn't allow a saboteur free reign of her boat. She couldn't allow this saboteur freedom to sink this ship as swiftly as the Titanic.
But damn Nathan Bridger, what was she to do? The boy was fifteen. Fifteen! What was she supposed to do-unleash her hounds on him? Let them shoot the life right out of him?
A fifteen year-old genius. A genius.
She'd read the dossier on the boy-oh, she'd read it. Stanford graduate at the top of his class; linguistics; quantum mechanics; philosophy; aesthetics; computer programming of any and every sort (in languages she'd never heard of); advanced mathematics with 800 and 900 course numbers; physics courses so clearly beyond her comprehension that she couldn't even understand the titles (the majority of his course work was preceded by the prefix PHYS in the 800 or 900 series with enough strange adjacent titles to make her mind swim); artificial intelligence; space engineering; gravitational engineering; mechanical and electrical engineering; robotics . . . the staggering list of difficult, unbelievably complex course material went on and on. And this boy had aced these courses, seemingly with his eyes closed and half asleep. Fifteen. God.
She sighed. The boy, damn Nathan Bridger's stupid hide, was brilliant. He had a mind blazing with insight, with knowledge. This much was obvious from his dossier, from his three published articles she'd read from the seaQuest database, and-finally-from the destruction he'd caused on the Ulysses. This child, this young man of fifteen years, had created an unstable vortex-something not even Nelson, her scientific officer, knew how to create. Hell, Nelson couldn't even dream how to create what Lucas Wolenczak had created in less than ten minutes. And this mind-this young, brilliant, inventive mind-was at this very moment calculating some new way to destroy her ship.
Obviously, she couldn't allow this.
Angrily, Noyce thumped her fist into her cherry-wood table. It was infuriating. What she wanted to know, what she damned well wanted explained to her, was why in all of hell a child-a fifteen year-old, brilliant genius of a child-was on the seaQuest in the first place. Submarines weren't supposed to have children on board! This was the best proof she'd ever encountered of the UEO's damnable irresponsibility: a fifteen year-old genius never should've been on a submarine in the first place. Lucas Wolenczak should never have been on the Ulysses when Noyce's team took over the boat. He should've been . . . in high school . . . or Stanford University, high school probably being out of the question. But wherever he was, it shouldn't have been on a submarine. Never!
But the cold reality of the situation was that Lucas Wolenczak was on board the Ulysses, sabotaging her boat with little resistance from her own people; hell, they hadn't even known what type of mind they were fighting until an hour ago. And he'd seriously injured two of her men, a fact for which he was hated by her crew. They wanted to kill him with their bare hands.
Fifteen.
Again, she pounded her fist into the desk. This was ridiculous; no, damn it all, it was absurd. What could've possessed Bridger to take a fifteen year-old child with him on a submarine? What demonic spirit could've possessed him to do such a stupid thing?
With a curse under her breath, Noyce stormed towards the prisoner holding cell. She glared at those members of her crew who looked up to watch her pass; however, most were sensible enough of their leader's moods to know that attracting her attention right now would be a very bad idea. She watched as they patched holes in the walls and fixed leaks, as they cleared piles of wreckage from the corridors. Lord Almighty, the place was a mess.
Her mood steadily darkened as she thought of who'd caused this mess.
And who'd brought him along with him on the seaQuest, the most powerful submarine in the world . . . and, thus, the most targeted submarine in the world.
Nathan Bridger. Damn his witless hide.
She eyed the door to Bridger's prison, then flung its door open, listening with pleasure as the metal door thudded startlingly against the metal wall. Ah . . . well, it looked like she had their attention after all: six pairs of eyes, all trained on her, many in undisguised alarm. Of course, Nathan Bridger's eyes were hooded as he attempted to hide his emotions. Just as she'd expected.
"Well, Noyce, I see you know how to make a grand entrance," Bridger began wryly. "It's so good to see you again."
Coldly, Noyce eyed Bridger-his dark hair, his dark eyes. Her eyebrows rose slightly as she said slowly, ominously, "We know of him, Captain. We know all about him."
Bridger swallowed . . . hard. He said nothing.
"A fifteen year-old boy, Bridger? Fifteen years old!" She stormed, angrily standing in front of him. She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "What the hell is a fifteen year-old doing on your ship?"
Bridger crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall as he looked up at her. He returned her glare. "I have perfectly good reasons for having him on my ship, but they're none of your business. In fact, none of this is your business."
"None of my business, captain? None of my business?" Noyce snapped, stepping towards him with fury in her eyes. "Right now, this very fifteen year-old is out blowing apart my ship. Two of my men are seriously injured. My crew wants your scientist dead. And damn it, he's fifteen years old, Nathan. Fifteen! What am I supposed to do, let them at him? Let them tear him to pieces? Or am I supposed to let him get away with injuring two of my men?"
In a flash, Nathan stood in front of her, his own eyes matching the fury in hers. He jabbed a dark finger at her. "Oh? Is it his fault that he has been put in this position; is it his fault that you and your crew have invaded our ship? Is he wrong in fighting you, in trying to stop you from taking our ship to enemy waters? Is he the one who's wrong in this, or is it you, Alicia?
"You and your crew take us at gunpoint; you shoot lasers at him, lasers that cut right through the ship's walls; you throw us in prison and start setting the coordinates for Dominia. What would you do if you were in his position? Would you do any differently? Damn it, if you're honest with yourself, you'll know that you'd wish to do half as well as he has. That boy has worked miracles, Noyce; it's not his fault that you're the enemy."
"My men want him dead!"
"Your men are inconsequential. You're in command-this is your decision, not theirs. Don't hide behind them as an excuse."
She turned on her heel, heading towards the door; but before she left, she looked back at him, her face hot with anger. "Captain Bridger, how-how could you have put a fifteen year-old boy under your command? How could you place his life in that kind of danger? How could my father-my father, damn it!-have allowed it?"
Bridger blinked quickly, apparently surprised by her mention of Admiral Noyce and by the depth of her anger. He slowly shook his head. "It's a long story, Alicia. To make a long story short, he was put on the seaQuest for his own good. If you look at his medical records-assuming, as I do, that you have them-you may understand why I say this." He paused, sighing. He then shrugged, looking at her with surprisingly honest eyes; Alicia could clearly see pain in those eyes. "I would never have kept him with me if I didn't think being on the seaQuest was the best thing for him. As things stand now, though, he's safer with me than he is . . . elsewhere. I'm not lying, Alicia. You know me too well to believe I am."
She studied him, again noting the distress in his eyes. She also remembered the look that had been in his eyes earlier when this had just started: the pain, the fear Bridger had felt at mention of the missing crewmember. Bridger, for whatever reason, was obviously close to Lucas Wolenczak. And Bridger was right: she knew him too well to doubt that he was doing what he believed was right. This entire situation was becoming increasingly strange.
Without comment, Alicia left the prisoners behind her, walking back towards the captain's corridors. Admittedly, her curiosity was up. The situation was increasingly bizarre: she had a fifteen year-old computer scientist and physicist acting as saboteur; she had a captain who was obviously very attached to this same fifteen year-old; and this same captain was declaring that he kept the fifteen year-old on his submarine to protect the child. That was a paradox, surely; one didn't normally send someone to a submarine to protect him.
As she entered her room, she flipped on the computer; briefly, she considered asking for Nelson's help, but she decided doing this herself might be best. She needed to discover all the facts before she attempted to explain anything to the crew. Too much was floating in her mind-too many areas were troubled.
It took her the greater part of an hour to find the right files, but she finally found what she was looking for: Lucas Wolenczak's medical files. She sighed as she waited for the files to load, stretching her arms quickly as she watched the screen suddenly flash with pages of text. Hmm. What was a fifteen year-old doing with a thirty-page medical file?
Scrolling through the pages, Alicia lost all track of time; her thoughts quickly honed to one focus only. In shock, she watched as one page of text after the other whirled by her, describing some of the worst possibilities she could imagine.
Dear Lord. It was awful. With wide, terrified eyes, she simply shook her head. God, this type of thing wasn't possible.
Nathan had said that being on the seaQuest was the best thing for Lucas Wolenczak.
She was beginning to agree with him.
After what she'd just read, nothing could make her think otherwise.
She shook her head in amazement as she came to a more current entry: September 19, 2019. That would have only been five weeks ago. Apparently, Lucas Wolenczak had tried to commit suicide after only nine weeks of residence on the seaQuest. As she read on, she found that Nathan and Kristin Westphalen had discovered Lucas's abuse; they'd gone to his quarters to discuss the issue. Lucas had, at the time, acted like he was handling their knowledge of his abuse quite well. But the second they'd disappeared, Lucas slit his wrists. According to the account given of the episode, Lucas had been terribly confused at their "discovery"; he'd been terrified that they'd send him home. Thankfully, though, the child's best friend (Ben Krieg, one of her prisoners) had found him in time to save his life . . . but just barely.
Hmm. Ben Krieg was his best friend. That meant she had two people very close to the child as her prisoners, and perhaps three, considering Westphalen's relationship with Lucas.
Alicia again scanned the information, feeling her jaw tense as she read the file once more. With a blink, Alicia knew what she had to do. She had to protect Lucas Wolenczak, at whatever cost. She'd be worse than the UEO itself if she didn't try to keep harm from this child.
And she'd do it because Nathan cared for this child.
And because she couldn't harm a child-especially a brilliant, previously abused child.
Her crew wouldn't like it, but she didn't care. They'd have to live with her decision.
With a decisive nod, Alicia called Nelson in to her quarters. They spoke intensely for several minutes as Alicia carefully outlined her plans to Nelson; he quickly nodded. After he left to call the crew together, Alicia sighed. This was the right thing to do, for all of them: it was right for her crew, for-though they'd grumble-they weren't murderers . . . and they certainly weren't murderers of children. It was right for Nathan's crew, for Lucas Wolenczak was obviously well loved on the seaQuest. And, above all, it was right for Lucas Wolenczak himself, for the child didn't deserve anger for doing only what she herself would have done. Nathan had been right: she'd be proud to accomplish half the destruction Lucas Wolenczak had produced if their situations were reversed. In his mind, they were the enemy-not the other way around.
So, knowing she was doing the right thing and comfortable in that knowledge (though she knew she faced an uphill battle), Alicia walked to the brig. She'd decided that they'd assemble in front of the brig, knowing Nathan and his comrades could hear every word discussed; for this, she thought they should overhear the discussion. She cleared her throat as she looked at the twenty assembled crewmembers, their eyes holding various levels of curiosity. They hadn't assembled as a group since right before the hijacking.
"Hello again, my friends," she began, smiling. She glanced over at Nelson and watched as he slowly inclined his head: yes, he had the files ready for access. She nodded slightly, then looked back at her crew. "Things haven't gone quite as smoothly as we all would have liked, but we're getting back on track. Miles has informed me that repairs are well underway, perhaps as much as half completed. While this may seem an insignificant amount, given the damage, I think we should be happy to be half through.
"And then we have some new information, too," she paused dramatically, looking at each face. She lifted her voice to be sure that Nathan and crew heard her clearly. "We should be able to capture our saboteur very soon. We now know who and what he is."
She watched as her crew muttered among themselves, then gestured to Nelson. He simply nodded, quickly punching a few buttons on his computer. A screen suddenly lit up on a metal panel to her right, and she watched as Lucas Wolenczak's picture flashed in front of her crew. The hushed murmur abruptly became quite noisy.
Lieutenant Boston, her third in command, at last broke through the jumbled voices: "But, Captain Noyce, this young man can't be over sixteen! Surely there is some mistake here. Sixteen year-olds don't blow up submarines!"
Alicia smiled slightly: this was exactly the question she'd been waiting for. Again, she nodded at Nelson and watched as he tapped in a few more words. Abruptly, Lucas's picture was replaced by his biographical information-beginning with his birthdate and current age. She gave her crew a moment to digest the information, then said, "As you can see, Lucas Wolenczak is a child; he is fifteen years old. And he is our saboteur."
Glancing at the astonished expressions still held on her crew's faces, she gestured at Nelson; he scrolled up to Wolenczak's brief history. "Lucas Wolenczak is the seaQuest's physics and computer expert. He's consulted for just about everything, it would seem: some experimental dolphin program, earthquake predictions, tides, mapping. Most importantly, however, he is also working on something called vortex engineering. According to Commander Nelson, a vortex is exactly what we saw unleashed in our ship just hours ago. Or, rather, an unstable vortex."
Nelson nodded slightly. "A vortex is theoretically a gravity tunnel built through water, providing, in theory, a great source of energy and a faster pace of travel. However, no stable vortices have ever been produced. To my knowledge, excepting what we have seen here, no unstable vortices have been produced, either. Both types of vortices have been greatly discussed, but no one has been able to produce the theories, instrumentation, and exact calculations to create one of these beauties.
"Until Lucas Wolenczak, by all appearances," he paused, again staring at the teen's data with amazement-and awe. He then looked back at the crew. "Using some unknown combination of lasers and water, Lucas Wolenczak unleashed an unstable vortex in the middle of our ship. We are all still dealing with the wreckage left behind by this force. There is no reason to think that he won't pull another surprise out of his ingenious mind-and relatively soon."
Nelson scrolled through Wolenczak's data, at last highlighting his academic career. He looked again at the crew. "Wolenczak specializes in computer science and physics, people: that means he has a mind capable of doing just about anything on this boat. I speculate that he'll try to access the ionizer next; I sure as hell would if I were him. I've already locked it down, so he won't be able to use it short of a miracle. It would take him several uninterrupted hours to start the ionizer up again, and he doesn't have that kind of time.
"This ship is a technological marvel, so that also means Wolenczak has access to just about every piece of equipment he could want. We'll station crewmen in front of the primary equipment labs, and we'll move all other equipment to these same labs. That will make his job that more difficult . . . and it will give us a much higher chance of finding him."
He glanced at Noyce, inclining his head slightly. She nodded. "And finding him is the name of the game, folks: not killing him."
She watched as the crew stared at one another, at her, and then-uncomfortably-at the information still glowing on the screen in front of them. Nelson had scrolled back to the young man's picture, pasting his age and birthdate right under the very young face. She looked at each crewmember, meeting each gaze, holding eye contact for several seconds. She then said, "Lucas Wolenczak is fifteen years old, people; he is a child. Furthermore, he is a brilliant, ingenious, incredibly gifted child. He is a graduate from Stanford University. And he is most certainly not going to be murdered by us."
As this last statement floated through her crew, she continued, "And for those of you who wish to exact revenge on this child for the pain he may have caused, I will have you consider the following scenario: you are fifteen. You are on a boat with your captain and a skeleton crew, trying to fix said boat. A group of twenty unknown, highly armed hijackers captures your friends and fires deadly lasers at you. You manage to escape, probably frightened out of your wits. You later discover that these hijackers are heading the ship towards enemy waters. What do you do? If you're honest with yourselves, you answer exactly as I did: I'd hope to God I could do half as well as this child has at thwarting my 'enemy.' If you're honest, you admit that you admire the courage this child has-and the audacity."
She paused, watching her crew, seeing their eyes deep in thought. She added, "People, our saboteur has not invaded our worlds. We have invaded his. He has the right to try his hardest to fight us, and we must accept the consequences until we are able to capture him. It does no good to harbor hatred against an 'enemy' who is only doing what you yourselves would-especially when that enemy is probably scared to death of us. Lucas Wolenczak is a child. I will not and do not condone injuring children, even if they have injured us. I most certainly do not condone the killing of children. Again, Lucas Wolenczak has not invaded our ship; we have invaded his ship. You will not injure this young man. This is an order. Mr. Wolenczak will be captured, not killed."
She paused, looking at her crew carefully. "You are now all ordered to turn your weapons to stun. If I find anyone with his or her weapon charged to kill, I will relieve that person of duty. Anyone who does not feel they can follow my orders may stay here. Again, Lucas Wolenczak is not to be injured or harmed in any way. If we do so, we are worse than the UEO itself."
She watched as slowly, thoughtfully, her crew nodded; laser weapons were pulled from holsters and set to stun. After a moment, and watching carefully to make sure everyone followed through on her orders, she let out a charged breath.
Her crew had accepted her orders.
*****
Standing next to the door to their prison, Nathan Bridger closed his eyes, quietly thanking the Lord above that Alicia Noyce, though the enemy, was not cruel or inhuman. He breathed in relief as he realized that Lucas would not be killed.
As he turned, he saw the same relief in his crew's eyes. Sometimes he managed to forget that he wasn't the only one who loved Lucas dearly.