"The Space Between"

PREVIOUSLY: "Funny Story"

THE SPACE BETWEEN
By Curtis C. Chen

"How's your migraine?" Barrett asked.

"Better." Liz shifted in her armchair. It should have concerned her that Doctor Sawhney had a ready supply of placebo pills on board, but she could see where they'd come in handy with elderly hypochondriacs. "How was your thing?"

"Pretty awesome," Barrett lilted. "I'm editing the video now. You are going to be so impressed."

Liz closed her book and watched Barrett fiddle with his laptop for a while. She looked around the ship's library. It was about half full of other passengers relaxing with books, drinks, games, or just with each other.

"How do you do it?" Liz asked.

Barrett looked up from his computer. "Well, first I import the video from my camera—"

"Not that." Liz smacked his shoulder with her book. "How are you so happy all the time? I've never seen you upset or even irritated. Other people get depressed; why don't you?"

"I get depressed. Were you there when we watched Titanic?"

"I'm serious."

He nodded and closed his laptop. "Okay, this is going to sound dumb, but... every morning, when I wake up, I tell myself I'm going to be happy, that it's going to be a good day."

"That's it?" Liz squinted at him. "That actually works?"

"That's just the first step," Barrett said. "Look, I'm not saying this would work for you, since your job's a lot more stressful than mine—"

"I'm not asking for advice," Liz said. "I just want to understand. I want..." She looked away. "I want to know more about you."

Barrett gave her a lopsided grin. "Well, at least you didn't say 'we need to talk.'"

Liz shook her head. "Okay, you wake up, it's going to be a good day. What next?"

"I just keep telling myself it's a good day," he said. "No matter what happens, no matter how bad or how difficult things get, I remind myself how lucky I am. I'm healthy, I have clean water and plentiful food, I have a rewarding career and wonderful friends." He smiled at her. "I'm a very lucky man. And that makes me happy."

Liz thought about all the times she'd been infuriated by Barrett's apparent obliviousness. He wasn't actually clueless, she realized. His optimism was a monumental effort in the face of all the evil and hardship in the world.

Liz saw pain and suffering every day in the ICU. She couldn't just ignore the darkness by focusing on how she was mitigating it. It wasn't enough to light her one candle.

But maybe Barrett could help her. If she asked, he'd rattle off a list of things she should be happy about. And he'd do it in such a friendly, reasonable way, she would have to believe him.

Maybe that would be enough.

She leaned over and kissed him.

"I'm glad we came on this cruise," she said.

"Me too."

"You know what we should do later?" Liz grinned. "Karaoke."

Barrett made a face. "I thought you wanted me to be happy."

The book made a satisfying thump against his forehead.



Photo Credit: Grufnik via Compfight cc

"Funny Story"

PREVIOUSLY: "Dinner Conversation"

FUNNY STORY
By Curtis C. Chen

Dejah Thoris' sickbay was subdued and cramped when compared to the ship's passenger spaces. Liz played with the interactive drug compendium on the wall while waiting.

Doctor Sawhney hurried in, pulled the privacy screen closed, and frowned at the wall computer. "This terminal should be locked."

Liz shrugged. "You should change the password from the factory default. So what happened yesterday in the excursion area? Another drunk guy? Some kid messing with the controls?"

Sawhney held up a hand. "I cannot legally divulge names. And I cannot confirm that the passenger in question was attempting to commit suicide."

Liz gaped for a moment. "With a note and everything?"

Sawhney nodded. "His cabin stewards found it. And no, I can't tell you what it said."

"Fair enough. But you were there an awfully long time..." Liz snapped her fingers. "You were talking him down, weren't you? You're the closest thing to a therapist on this ship, and you must have malpractice insurance."

"We have two medical professionals on staff," Sawhney said, "and every crew member is trained for—"

"Don't change the subject. I know you're bound by doctor-patient privilege and the threat of a lawsuit, but what if I run into this guy later?" Liz shrugged theatrically. "And what if we start talking, and I accidentally utter some trigger phrase that causes him to attempt suicide again?"

Sawhney frowned. "That's highly unlikely."

"But it is possible. And preventable."

The doctor sighed. "I do not envy the hospital staff who have to work with you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere. Come on, spill."

"I am not a psychiatrist," Sawhney said. "But this gentleman exhibited clear signs of clinical depression. He was supposed to have come on this cruise with his wife—it was their thirtieth wedding anniversary—but she divorced him last month, rather unexpectedly. He decided to sail alone. I don't know when he decided to kill himself.

"Fortunately, all our airlocks are interlocked, and the only override is on the interior controls, but the gentleman managed to jam the doors closed. It took our engineers some time to set up a bypass. Meanwhile, I had to make sure he didn't break anything else, like the exterior window."

"So what did you say?" Liz asked. "How did you convince this guy his life was still worth living?"

"We sang."

Liz blinked. "Sang?"

"I noticed he was speaking in very strange phrases. One of the crew recognized them as song lyrics."

"You have to tell me what song."

"No. Believe me, it was nothing special. Anyway, we played a karaoke track through the intercom, and I started singing, hoping that the gentleman would respond.

"I don't know why this particular song was special to him. Maybe it meant something to him and his ex-wife; I don't know. I must have talked to him for half an hour, but it was the singing that brought him back." Sawhney shrugged. "Sometimes, words alone aren't enough. It takes more to make a connection."

Liz nodded. "Was it an Elvis song?"

"Please go away now."

CONTINUED IN "The Space Between"...



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"Dinner Conversation"

PREVIOUSLY: "Phobos Cruise Crazy"

DINNER CONVERSATION
By Curtis C. Chen

"More shrimp cocktail, sir?"

Barrett nodded. "Don't mind if I do!"

"Thank you, sir." The server piled more tiny pink crustaceans onto Barrett's plate, followed by a dish of dark red sauce. "Please enjoy."

Liz elbowed Barrett in the ribs. "Slow down there. You're going to make yourself sick."

"Well, obviously," Barrett said. "It's not a real sea voyage unless somebody gets sick."

"You're hilarious. And we're not at sea."

"Metaphorically."

But she wasn't listening to him anymore. Her own words rang inside her head: "at sea." They weren't on the ocean, but Liz was feeling somewhat lost.

She looked around the cavernous, multi-level dining room. An army of servers and wait staff maneuvered around the labyrinth of tables, dishing out food, refilling wine glasses, and generally making sure that none of the seated guests had to do anything but eat, drink, and be merry.

Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I just don't know how to be happy. Liz looked back at Barrett's smiling face. Maybe you should be with someone who does.

A burst of applause sounded behind her, and Liz turned to see two uniformed crewmen approaching the Captain's Table: a tall, Nordic-looking man with large hands, followed by the dark and compact Doctor Sawhney.

"Sorry we're late, folks," the Norseman said, bowing slightly before he sat down. "I'm Captain Erickson. And I believe some of you have already met Doctor Sawhney, our ship's physician."

The two officers walked around the elliptical table, shaking hands with each of the diners, then took their reserved places. Captain Erickson sat directly across from Liz, on the short axis of the ellipse, and Doctor Sawhney took the empty seat on her right.

Conversation meandered for a while, from food to wine to the ship's specifications to each passenger's occupation and reason for coming on this particular Mars cruise. An older gentleman was loudly telling the story of how he and his wife had met when Liz looked over at Doctor Sawhney and saw that he wasn't particularly interested, either.

She leaned toward him and said, "Tell me about the incident. The one that occupied you for so long."

Sawhney blinked. "We had a passenger in the airlock."

"Isn't that what the excursion area is for?"

"He wasn't wearing a spacesuit."

Liz leaned closer. "What happened?"

Sawhney shook his head. "I'm sorry. The situation has become more... complicated since I spoke to you at the staircase. I'm afraid I can't offer many more details."

"Well, what can you tell me?"

"Wouldn't you rather talk about something besides medicine? You are on vacation, after all."

Liz tilted her head. "You think I became a nurse because I don't like discussing medicine?"

Sawhney shrugged. "I make no assumptions."

"Come on. I'm sure whatever you have to say will be more interesting than Mr. and Mrs. Rubenstein's meet cute."

The doctor looked up and across the table. Liz followed his gaze and saw the captain watching them with a passionless smile.

"Not here," Sawhney said.

CONTINUED IN "Funny Story"...



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Coming Soon!

"The Space Between" will be published on Friday, February 22nd, 2013.

Coming Soon!

"Funny Story" will be published on Friday, February 15th, 2013.

Coming Soon!

"Dinner Conversation" will be published on Friday, February 8th, 2013.

"Phobos Cruise Crazy"

PREVIOUSLY: "To Cruise Or Not To Cruise"

PHOBOS CRUISE CRAZY
By Curtis C. Chen

"You handled that well," Barrett said as Liz pulled off her nitrile gloves.

"Good thing we're out of zero-gravity," Liz said. "There'd be blood everywhere—seriously, can you put the camera away for one second?"

Barrett snapped another picture. "You'll want to remember this later."

"I doubt that."

Liz stuffed her gloves into the biohazard bag being held by a uniformed crewman. She had to admit, there was no shortage of service personnel on board the Dejah Thoris. She could hardly turn around without someone offering to get her a drink or find her an activity.

Princess of Mars Cruises wanted none of its passengers to be bored. They did their best to reduce interplanetary travel time: the spacecraft accelerated for the first half of each voyage, then spun around and decelerated for the rest. That also meant a full day of zero-gravity at midway, which was the highlight of the trip for many people. Unfortunately, some less sober passengers forgot when they were back in gravity and continued moving as if they were still weightless.

This particular man, whose head wound Liz had just sewn up, had attempted to fly down a circular staircase. He was very definitely drunk.

"You're too young to be a doctor," the man slurred, failing to grope Liz with one hand.

She moved out of his reach. "I'm an ICU nurse."

"That's hot. Wanna have dinner with me?"

Barrett leaned forward. "No, she doesn't."

Liz heard a commotion. Another crewman, this one with stripes on his uniform, made his way through the crowd holding a red-and-white plastic case. He stopped next to Liz.

"I'm Doctor Sawhney," he said. "Are you the nurse?"

Liz nodded. "Pulse and respiration normal. Probable concussion, but the bleeding's stopped."

Doctor Sawhney knelt down to examine the drunkard's skull. "Excellent work, Miss—?"

"Chartier."

"Do you always carry a sewing kit?"

"No." Liz nodded at Barrett. "My boyfriend lost a button on his shirt, and we needed to fix it for the formal dinner tonight. We were on our way back to our room when we saw this idiot fall down the stairs."

"Get him to Sickbay. I'll be there in a minute," Sawhney said to the crewmen who were helping the drunkard to his feet. "Thank you, Miss Chartier. I'm sorry I was delayed, but we had a situation in the excursion area."

"What kind of situation?" Barrett asked.

"I'll tell you all about it," Sawhney said, "tonight during dinner at the Captain's Table."

Liz knew exactly how much one of those seats cost. "Oh, we couldn't possibly—"

"It's complimentary," Sawhney said. "For both of you. Who knows what kind of diseases Mr. Midlife Crisis back there is carrying, and how many people he might have infected if you hadn't been here. Please, I insist."

"We'll be there," Barrett said. "Thank you!"

Sawhney walked back to the elevators. Liz glared at Barrett. He shrugged.

"It's the Captain's Table! We might never have the opportunity to do this again."

Liz shook her head. "I sure hope not."

CONTINUED IN "Dinner Conversation"...



Image: Crossing the November Sky by Luis Argerich, November, 2008

"To Cruise Or Not To Cruise"

TO CRUISE OR NOT TO CRUISE
By Curtis C. Chen

Liz's phone always seemed to buzz when she was in the middle of something that required two hands, like changing an IV or catheter. This time it was a protomyelin shunt. She clicked her jaw once to decline the call and finished locking Mr. Carton's collar back into place. He looked up from the bed and grinned.

"That your boyfriend again?" he asked.

"Probably," Liz said. "How's the shoulder today? Still sore?"

"Don't change the subject," Mr. Carton said. "He still trying to get you to go on that vacation?"

"Does everyone in this hospital know everything about my personal life?"

"I demand daily updates from the nurse's station. Answer the question."

Liz sighed. "He's afraid it's going to sell out. Apparently it's a very popular cruise."

Mr. Carton shook his head. "Don't go."

Liz frowned. "You're not going to tell me life is short? I should live with no regrets? All that stuff?"

"You're not an idiot," Mr. Carton said. "Cruises are expensive. And what do you get out of it? Some pictures, a sunburn, probably gain ten pounds 'cause you've got nothing to do but eat. And get ripped off by island tourist traps."

"It's even worse than that," Liz said. "This is an interplanetary cruise. No stops. One week to Mars, one week back—"

Mr. Carton sat up. "Are you insane? Trapped in an enclosed space for two weeks? You'll be lucky if you don't kill each other!"

Liz recoiled. "Calm down, Mr. Carton. Your neck—"

"Listen to me," he said. "I speak from experience. My wife, God rest her soul, convinced me to go on a road trip once. Ten days. Trapped in the same damn car, eating together, sleeping together. We never spent more than a few minutes apart. It was miserable. I nearly divorced her. Hell, I almost left her by the side of the road more than once."

"Lie down," Liz said. Mr. Carton groaned as she helped him. "It can't have been that bad. Weren't you two married for a long time?"

"Fifty-two years, until the cancer took her. But I tell you, that stupid road trip was the toughest ten days of my entire life. If anything had gone wrong—a flat tire, a bad meal, the wrong hotel room... I thought about strangling her more than once."

"But you didn't," Liz said. "You stayed together."

"You're not listening," Mr. Carton said. "We got lucky. It could have ended then, and I wouldn't have had the good life I had with Corrine. Do yourself a favor. Don't risk it. You got a good thing going with this guy, what's-his-name."

"Barrett."

"What kind of a name is that? Don't get me started." Mr. Carton waved a hand. "Trust me. You'll be happier if you don't go. Just be satisfied with what you have, don't ask for more."

Liz pulled the covers up to Mr. Carton's chest and looked at her left hand.

"Get some rest, Mr. Carton," she said. "I need to go make a phone call."

CONTINUED IN "Phobos Cruise Crazy"...



Image: Sunset Cruise by Evan Leeson, August, 2008