Entanglements with the Enemy
Epilogue
Three computers open before him, each one rapidly crunching numbers and processing theories, Lucas sat with an old-fashioned notebook in one hand and a pencil in the other.
He had a puzzle to solve.
Of course, it wasn't any ordinary "puzzle": no box of wooden or cardboard chips to put together in the hope that it would reasonably approximate the picture of some object. No, his puzzle was a bit more complicated than that.
"Hmmm . . ." he mumbled, twirling the pencil between his index finger and thumb. "I wonder why it did that . . ."
That, naturally, referred to his latest mis-experimentation with the vortex. He was beginning to think he should just go right back to his Vocorder project and dump any and all knowledge of vortices from his mind. It would sure beat wondering what on earth he'd done to turn his level two vortex into a level twelve renegade vortex that wanted to eat him alive for dinner. Not to mention that it'd practically blown some holes into the science lab. Oh, Doctor Westphalen would've loved that . . .
Restlessly, he began thumping his notebook on the edge of his desk. By a minute or so, he was even starting to pitch in a few musical notes and tapping his toes in time to the "music."
A tap sounded from his door. He sighed, still thumping the notebook. "Yo . . . c'mon in."
His visitor's eyebrows rose as he stepped into the room. Captain Nathan Bridger squinted his eyes against the harsh light of several overhead lights. "'Yo'? That's a new one for you . . ." Bridger didn't bother to add that, as a youth, he'd used the same expression. Lucas would have been offended to know it wasn't his own invention. He glanced around. "What's all this stuff for?"
Making a face, Lucas groaned. "I'm trying to figure out how my vortex grew from a small bean to a giant overnight. Unfortunately, nothing's immediately obvious." Lucas stretched, then tapped his left fingers against the desk. He smiled up at the Captain. "The arm's not hurting today. I'm just glad I've got that stupid cast off finally. No more itching."
With a slight smile, Bridger sat at the edge of Lucas's bunk. "I'll bet. If I recall, you were threatening to tear it off yourself if Doctor Westphalen didn't take care of it first." A mischievous smile briefly flashed across Lucas's face, but he quickly hid it. Bridger shook his head. "Anything else up?"
Lucas looked up at him, surprised. He simply shook his head.
"Ah . . . well, that might be good. We just got a request for some help . . . actually, more like a plea." At Lucas's curious expression, Bridger filled him in, "Well, there happens to be a ship that won't run. The UEO can't seem to get it operating again. Actually, they've never been able to get the engines to run."
Lucas stared at him, color very slowly slipping from his cheeks.
Seeing the teen's reaction, Nathan quickly added, "However, I told those idiots that we weren't interested. Period. I also told them that if they wanted my advice, they'd simply sink the Ulysses and start over again. That project was a mess from the very beginning. I think that ship was doomed to simply sit in someone's harbor."
Lucas laughed slightly, brushing a hair away from his eyes. He nodded. "Thanks, sir. I didn't . . . want to go back there. And I think you're right: it looks real good in someone's harbor. Let them keep it there."
Well, at least Lucas was now able to talk about the Ulysses without wanting to crawl into the nearest wall panel. That was a definite plus. Bridger smiled slightly, knowing that he, too, had been just about as bad. Actually, all of them had been: Krieg, Hitchcock, O'Neill, Ortiz, Westphalen. All of them had walked lightly around any mention of the ship. Too much had happened: too many painful events had struck and too many unanswered questions had arisen. Things were getting better, but slowly; Nathan knew that, with more time, they would heal. It would take time, though.
However, he did have a way of encouraging that healing. The thought had struck him as soon as he'd delivered a resounding, absolute "NO" to the UEO's request for help with the Ulysses. Besides, they were overdue their shore leave. "Hey, I did have a proposal for you, kiddo."
Lucas looked at him with serious eyes, wondering what this might have to do with the Ulysses.
Bridger smiled. "I was thinking of taking a few of us out for some ice cream or something. Some shore leave, in any case, spent together. A little unwinding exercise."
Lucas gave him the "that-sounds-like-real-fun" look teenagers of every century had seemingly mastered . . . the rolled eyes, the unhappy pout, the disgruntled slump of the body. Bridger grinned. "Let's see, on the guest list I had Kristin, Tim, Katie, and Miguel. Oh . . . and, of course, we need our irrepressible Lieutenant Krieg. Someone's got to get you into trouble . . ."
Lucas almost stuck his tongue out at the Captain, but he restrained himself. Instead, he simply groaned. "A shore leave filled with adults . . . well, except maybe Ben . . ."
Bridger outright grinned at this. He tapped Lucas's knee. "Did I mention it involved computers?"
At this, Lucas's head fairly snapped off his neck as he looked up. The teen grinned. "Cool! I'll be right there. When are we leaving?"
Bridger laughed, then headed towards the door. "In about an hour. See you there. And remember to haul Krieg with you if he tries to get out of this. He kept mentioning something about 'Lucas and computers . . . we'll never hear anything from him but strings of computerese.'"
Bridger heard Lucas snort as he left the teen's room. Satisfied with the boy's reaction, Bridger smiled. It seemed to have helped. He knew Lucas had had a lot of pressure put on him about his renegade vortex. The UEO was seriously interested in its development as a weapon now that the Ulysses disaster had thoroughly demonstrated its destructive capabilities. Several Generals Nathan knew were practically salivating over the mere idea of the weapon's power. However, Lucas could only deal with vortices and theories so much . . . he needed a break, too.
And the remaining team from the Ulysses could also use a break, he suspected. It had even been Kristin's idea. They'd come through a lot together during their captivity, but they had rarely mentioned it over the past six months. Even Nathan, though he was certainly not a psychologist, knew that this was unhealthy. They needed to talk over what had happened. And they needed to reconnect to one another without worrying about treading on the other person's feelings. The Ulysses mess had been bad enough, but they didn't need to hide away from it now, too.
Nathan hoped that, as the issues came out into the open, as the questions finally were asked and the air cleared, the invisible tension he'd felt for several weeks would finally release. He prayed they would slowly learn to work past this.
They were a good crew. They cared for one another. Somehow, Nathan knew that their concern for each other would eventually bring them past the hidden shadows the Ulysses still managed to cast upon them. It had been a nightmare . . . but even nightmares finally needed to end.
**Finis**