Lonnie glanced at the chrono on her wrist, cursing at what the numbers told her. Try as she might, Lonnie was not a morning person, and always found herself running late for any appointment earlier than 1000 hours. Opening the hatch, she rushed out into the corridor . . .
. . . and collided with Dagwood.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, not looking up from his work.
“No, Dagwood, it's my fault. I should learn to look before I leap.”
“You were not leaping.” His eyes still stared at the floor.
Lonnie began to stifle a smile at his comment and suddenly found herself frowning instead. He was so intent on what he was doing, she wondered if he might be trying to drill a hole in the deck with the mop.
“Slow down! What's the rush?”
“I am following the trail, to clean it up before it dries.”
“Wha--,” she followed his gaze and saw the thin dotted line of blood that meandered crazily down the hallway. “Dagwood, why didn't you . . .” She stood in horrified amazement for a moment, decided that she didn't have time for words. “Get help!” she cried. Then she ran.
She didn't have to run very far, but panic made her chest spasm. She tried to shout, but only a little squeak came out. The best female athlete on the seaQuest was nearly paralyzed with fear, but she kept running. The smeary trail thinned a little, then became thicker again. Lonnie followed it around the corner and saw a figure curled against the wall, holding his head in pain.
Her eyes narrowed in surprise. It wasn't Lucas--it was Tony. She knelt in front of him. “Tony, hey. Piccolo. Look at me.” He did. His face was an awful mess of blood and bruises. He tried to get up.
“Get offa me. I'm fine. I just gotta get to the head and wash this off . . .”
She put a hand on his shoulder. “No. Dagwood is sending help. Don't try to stand.” He grudgingly realized that she was right. “What happened, Tony? Who did this?”
“It's . . . kinda embarrassing.”
“I promise not to tell.”
He sighed. He might as well tell her while they waited for help. “I was comin' off a shift from Hell--our team was rewirin' comm panels in the engine room. The turbines are so loud in there, I thought my head was gonna split open from the noise. And it's so hot in there, you'da thought I was made of dirt and sweat when I got back to my quarters.
“Anyhow, I open the door, and there's Lucas--sittin' at his computer like it was all perfectly normal. Like half the ship wasn't lookin' for him. I mean, I couldn't believe it. So, I go, 'Lucas!' Then he looks up, and he had this kinda wild-animal look in his eyes--I can't really describe it, but I knew I had to stay cool, so that he wouldn't freak out.
“I slow down, but keep movin' toward him. He quits payin' attention to me, goes back to the computer. But it's weird; he just sits there, starin'. Usually he types or taps his pencil or squirms around--he can't keep still, and it drives me crazy!
“But he just sat there starin' at the screen for the longest time, breathin' slow enough that I thought maybe he'd fallen asleep. So I come up behind him and put my hand on his shoulder. I go 'Lucas, you okay?' He turns his head and looks at me--I swear to God his eyes were like someone on drugs, pupils a mile wide. He opens his mouth as if he's gonna say somethin,' but he didn't. Then he looks back at the monitor, all zombie again.
“I sorta pulled on his arm, and he stood up, limp. I lead him to the door, and he followed in a daze. Then he tripped over somethin'.” Lamely, Tony explained, “It's been a while since we cleaned the quarters. Plus, he's a little shaky on his feet--no big surprise there. But I catch him. 'It's okay, dude. All right. I gotcha.'“ Tony groaned. “That was the complete wrong thing to say.”
Lonnie shook her head at him. “I don't understand.”
“Well, yeah. Y'see, when Marshall gave Dagwood and me that . . . dream, it was only to get Lucas. To get the seaQuest. To get the code. To get that Blue Moon drug.” His nose had started bleeding again, and he swiped at it with his hand.
“Synthium,” she supplied, offering him a handkerchief.
“Thanks.” He accepted and used the cloth. “Yeah. Anyway, 'gotcha' was Marshall's magic word or whatever. Once you heard his voice say 'gotcha' in your head, you knew that he had you. That he owned you. He was only slippin' around part of my mind for a little while, and that was creepy enough. But Lucas--man, he got into Lucas' brain pretty deep.” Tony stopped, his eyes unfocused, remembering the feeling of Clay Marshall's mind touching his thoughts.
“Tony? Are you with me?” Lonnie looked into his eyes for signs of a possible concussion.
“Sorry.” He came back to the present and sighed. “So Lucas went berserk, completely off-the-wall. Before I can breathe, I got an elbow in the ribs and a fist in the eye. I'm off-guard, so I let him go. He grabbed a book or somethin' and smacked me in the bridge of my nose. Feels like he hit me with a brick.”
Lonnie had been rapt with attention up to this point, but at this she turned away and touched her hand to her mouth.
Tony rolled his eyes. “What!?”
“Nothing. Go on--please.” She turned to face him again.
“WHAT?”
Unable to hold it in any longer, she started to giggle. “You got beat up by Lucas?!” The harder she tried to restrain her laughter, the less she succeeded. It was just nerves--the laughter released some of the tension and worry she was feeling. It was absurd! Sick, injured, spaced-out Lucas besting Tony?
Glaring, he growled, “Lonnie! It ain't funny! Do you wanna hear what happened or not?”
“Okay. You're right. I know. I'm sorry, it's just nerves.” He was right. It wasn't funny; it was scary. Despite everything that had happened in his life, Lucas had never attacked anyone before. Lonnie wiped the corner of her eye. She was shaking, but not with laughter anymore.
Tony continued, “While I'm countin' stars, he slips outta the room. Disappears. When I can see straight again, I got this,” Tony gestured vaguely at his face, “and he's long gone.” Tony looked woozily at her. “It's not funny. He is seriously screwed-up.
“I knew it the second I passed the monitor on the way outta the room . . .” He remembered the textwindow that had blinked at him while he recovered from the blow.
login: ueo_civ_lwolenczak2
password: 46038
incorrect password
password: 46038
incorrect password
password: gotcha
LOGIN FAILED -- TOO MANY TRIES
login: frankenstein
password: 46038
incorrect password
password: 46038
incorrect password
password: gotcha
LOGIN FAILED -- TOO MANY TRIES
login:
“Lonnie, he knew every code in the whole fuh--stupid U.E.O.,” Tony's
voice broke with anger, “Now he can't even log onto his own system!”
“That bastard.” He knew that she meant Clay. They sat quietly for a minute or so.
“Hey, Tony?”
“Yeah?”
“Why can't you just use your powers to find Lucas? Dr. Smith said you were psychic, right?”
“I ain't psychic. I mean, I was for a while there, but as soon as the bomb went off, the power went away. I think it was just left over from when Marshall put that dream in my head. Or maybe he was just leakin' power or somethin'.
“Or maybe I never had it in the first place. I think it was Dr. Smith all along. She really wanted to believe it when Marshall said I was psychic. They were real close once, I guess. So I think that she made it happen, 'cause she wanted it to be true.”
He let his head lean against the wall. “Dr. Smith says I'm in denial. Who knows. He's gone. The power's gone. I'm glad--I'm a freak enough already without bein' a psychic.” He sighed. “Just let it go.”
The medics arrived then in a bustle of efficiency. They carried Tony to medbay on a stretcher. “This is so embarrassing,” he lamented. “But Lonnie?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for stayin' with me 'til they came.”
“Anytime.” She glanced at her chrono again. She was twenty minutes overdue to seadeck. They were overhauling one of the Stinger units, and Commander Ford was probably there waiting to chew her out. She squeezed Tony's hand as they arrived at medbay, and then walked briskly to her post.