LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter Three: Complicated
Day 1
Space Vessel U.S.S. California
Cafeteria
1304 hours
Dr. Boyd hurriedly speedwalks into the employee cafeteria. At a table closest to a row of five circular viewports; two other scientists smile and wave Teresa over. Bess Trainor, the newest addition to the science team, waves the most enthusiastically—her white teeth gleaming in the bright light of the cafeteria.
Compared to the rest of the ship, the cafeteria is lit up like Times Square on New Years Eve. The lights so bright that Teresa rapidly blinks every time she enters.
Teresa makes her way through the lunch line before taking a seat next to Bess. Casually greeting the other scientists present, Teresa turns her attention to her new lab assistant.
“Hello, Dr. Boyd?” Bess exclaims, her smile growing impossibly larger. “Did you sleep well?”
Teresa shakes her head and offers Bess a kind smile.
“No one sleeps well in cryo, Bess,” Teresa says, eating a spoonful of her orange gelatin. “You just sleep. Whether you like it or not.”
“Oh. Yes,” Bess says quietly. “I see what you mean.”
“I guess, I slept as well as can be expected for a nap that intermittently lasts several months,” Teresa says.
Dr. Boyd feels a sting of regret watching the smile drop away from the young assistant’s face. After all, it's not such a bad thing to have a sunny disposition. If she could give Bess Trainor a nickname; it'd be Sunny...Or maybe Flighty. Her new assistant is not only cheerful, but very naive. Not such a good thing to be in deep space.
“Sometimes, I wish the company would get off their cheap butts and order some more stasis pods," Dr. Boyd complains loudly. "So we don’t have to share. It’d be nice to not have to wake up every few weeks to Theodore’s crazy mug. I tell you…That man. Ugh. He’s such an ass. Thinks he’s the universe’s gift to women. I suppose it could be worse, though. I could have awakened from a seven-month nightmare suffering from space psychosis.”
“Yeah, you could have…” a loud voice says to Teresa’s left.
Teresa turns to see Theodore McAvoy standing beside her. The chief engineer’s face is one large grin, and he looks down at Teresa—or rather her cleavage, with a slyness which only the most seasoned of womanizers can muster. Teresa feigns ignorance as to the reason he is there and moves to get up.
“I’m sorry…Were you planning on sitting here?” Teresa says, eyeing Theo’s heaping plate of food. “I can sit somewhere else.”
Theodore puts a hand on Teresa’s left shoulder to keep her rooted to her seat. He squeezes in and uses his hips and thighs to push her over on the bench. Teresa can feel every hair on her neck stand on end as the wolfish engineer fixes her with his steely gaze. There is a darkness brewing there which Dr. Boyd can’t quite figure out. Almost as if the man is challenging her.
“Don’t bother,” Theo says. “There’s room enough.”
Bess looks over Teresa and eyeballs Theodore. Her usually pale skin turns a faint pink.
“Hello, Mr. McAvoy,” Bess coos.
Bess' lips form into an unrealistic pout as she tries to impress the chief engineer. Theodore only acknowledges her with a head nod and then returns his attention to Teresa.
“You gonna eat that?” Theodore says, before spearing a sweet potato fry from Teresa’s plate and chewing it slowly.
“I was,” Teresa answers. With a sigh, she glances down at her plate and then turns to Theodore in frustration. “Is there a reason you chose to sit here, Theo? Do you not have some serious engineering or tech specialist stuff you could be discussing with your team?”
“Already done that,” Theo replies. His eyes slide over Teresa’s body and his grin returns. “Probably while you ladies were showering and getting all beautified.”
“Uh…Huh,” Teresa says.
Realizing she is getting nowhere trying to get Theodore to leave the table, Teresa returns her attention to her meal. Theodore’s right hand caressing the inner part of her thigh causes Teresa to whirl on him. At first, she sits still as a statue—overcome by shock and disbelief. Her shock quickly wears off and is replaced by a white hot fury. Turning completely towards Theo, she smacks him across the face with her left hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” Teresa hollers.
Bess and the two other scientists, seated at the table, immediately stare at the two quarrelling people. Teresa expects Theodore to become angry. Instead, he simply grins even wider.
“I like a feisty woman,” Theo says in a silky voice. “They make me hot all over!”
Teresa’s face twists with rage and she leans as close to Theodore as she dares.
“I am sending a communique directly to your superiors. You’ll never work on a freighter again! Or any other vessel, for that matter!” Teresa threatens.
Theodore is unfazed. In fact, he appears encouraged. Thoughts of blackmail and company secrets whirling in his twisted mind. Reaching up and grabbing Teresa’s face, he kisses her hard on the mouth. Teresa’s initial shock, produced by the chief engineer’s brazen behavior, grows. At this point, she is now thoroughly incensed. She shoves at Theodore’s chest and shouts in his face. She glances around for Security Chief Crews, and comes up wanting.
“Move, Theo! Now.” Teresa yells. “Let me up!”
Theodore remains planted in his spot on the bench. He blinks slowly and sarcastically.
“No,” he says. The smarmy engineer simply crosses his arms over his broad chest and turns up his chin arrogantly. “You could always ask nicely though.”
“I…You want me to…You go to hell, McAvoy!” Teresa stammers. By now, her usually light-brown skin has become infused with a tinge of red. “I said, let me out of this seat. Or, I’m calling security.”
“You mean, your boy...Security Chief Crews,” Theo mocks. “Oh…I forgot to tell you. He’s on an important detail. Something about some of the stasis pods going offline. A few of the passengers nearly died. One passenger was seriously injured. Space psychosis, I heard. A lot of the marines got called to assess damage and do a passenger headcount. I said, I’d run a full systems diagnostic in the meantime. Company wants to make sure it was an isolated incident. Don’t want any more glitches in the system. Who knows what could be affected. So, you see Dr. Boyd…No one is coming to save you.”
Harold Bashir, Teresa’s resident lab technician, has just finished loading his tray at the cafeteria’s hot bar. Catching on to what is happening, Harold leaves his tray on the bar and strolls toward the table full of scientists—and one troublesome engineer. He stops on a line with Theodore and looks down at the slightly bigger man.
“You heard Dr. Boyd,” Harold says. “She wants you to move.”
Theodore glances at Harold in annoyance and then waves a hand in the air.
“Beat it, string-bean,” Theodore says with a rude chuckle. “Adults are talking.”
“Okay then,” Harold says.
In the next moment, Theodore’s head is pinging off of the metal table. Blood pours from the engineer’s nose and Harold slams his head again, gripping the bigger man’s hair in a clenched fist.
Bess squeals in fear and the scientists across the table leap to their feet. They stare at the two men with a mixture of anxiety and disgust. To the scientists, the men’s brutish fight is crude behavior to display aboard such an esteemed vessel as the California.
“Dr. Boyd asked you to move!” Harold yells. “Now move! I’m a black belt! Don’t make me show how I earned my rank on you!”
Theodore raises both hands in surrender, before covering his nose and climbing from the bench. He only looks back once in his hurry to leave the cafeteria.
Teresa turns to Harold with an expression of gratitude.
“Thanks, Harold. But I was getting around to making him leave on my own,” Teresa says with a wink.
“Sure, Dr. Boyd,” Harold replies with a grin. “But does this mean I get a raise? A promotion? A cookie?”
Teresa slaps Harold on his right shoulder and laughs heartily.
“We’ll see,” she says. “But first, we need to clean up this blood. Eck, Harold…There’s even some on your sleeve.”
“You’re the boss,” Harold says with a wide smile.
Teresa slides out of the seat and reaches for Harold’s right forearm. She leads him away from the table and out the door of the cafeteria. Harold allows her to lead him.
-
-
Day 1
Laboratory Room 12
Science Wing
United Space Systems Vessel California
13:23 hours
Harold sits on the edge of the same table Security Chief Crews was perched on only mere hours before. The blue work jumpsuit he wears is open halfway, the two folds of material hanging around his waist. His white t-shirt is damp with sweat and he silently watches Teresa as she removes the spots of Theo’s blood on the sleeve of his jumpsuit.
Dr. Boyd takes a tiny penlight over the surface, the particles of the beam slowly removing microscopic particles of the stain from the material of Harold’s clothes. When she is satisfied that the job is done, Teresa glances up into Harold’s face with a broad smile. She powers down the penlight and shoves it into a slot on the front of her lab coat. Slapping her hands on the front of her legs, she wears an expression of sheer triumph.
“There,” Teresa cries. “All done. Good as new.”
Harold utters a shy thanks and shrugs back into the top of his jumpsuit. It isn’t every day that your boss sees you in your undershirt. But then again, almost everyone on this ship has seen everyone else in a compromising position or two. Cryosleep requires a person to be pretty much nude. Although, most prefer to wear at least undies. Women waking up from cryo have it hardest. Men can at least warm up their intimate parts before climbing out. A woman’s top is pretty much exposed immediately upon waking. And the showers, if one chooses to use them, are communal. Not very woman friendly. None of the men seem to mind, though. That’s just how space is. Cold, unforgiving, and for profit. Too many privileges, means less money for the shareholders. At least, the labs have their own private shower room.
Harold cuts his musing short and drops down off the table. He offers Dr. Boyd a friendly head nod.
“Thanks, Doc,” Harold says. “You fixed me up real nice.”
Harold turns to leave, but Teresa lightly touches his arm.
“How about a cup of coffee?” Teresa says. “I can make us some fresh in the lounge. Besides, you didn’t even eat your lunch because of that pig Theo. It’s the least I can do.”
Harold nods agreeably.
“Okay. Sure,” the thin technician says. His heart flutters wildly in his chest.