Shore Leave Part 1

The security duty room had never been designed for five people trying to leave at the same time. Mercer discovered this when Rainer opened a locker door into his shoulder. “Jesus.” “You were standing there.” “I was getting my jacket.” “You were standing there getting your jacket.” “That’s generally how jackets work.” Rainer shoved the locker closed with one hand and looked him over. “You gonna make it?” Mercer rubbed his shoulder. “I survived.” “Good.” She turned away. Mercer stared after her. Hale was sitting on the end of the bench, changing boots with the careful concentration of a man performing maintenance on something considerably more important than his feet. “You saw that.” “I saw you standing in front of a locker.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Ox was at the far end of the room trying to fit something into a small canvas carry bag. It did not want to fit. He pushed harder. The bag bulged. Kane looked over from the duty desk. “What’s in there?” Ox stopped. “Nothing.” Kane looked at the bag. Ox looked at the bag. The bag appeared to reconsider its position in the conversation. Rainer leaned sideways. “Is that food?” “No.” “Ox.” “It ain’t food.” Mercer looked at him. “What is it?” Ox sighed. “Snacks.” Rainer laughed. “Snacks are food.” “No, they’re snacks.” Hale pulled on his other boot. “There is a fairly strong taxonomic argument that—” “Don’t,” Kane said. Hale stopped. Kane signed the last line on the duty turnover sheet and set the stylus beside it. The room settled slightly. They were off duty. That should have changed something. Mercer wasn’t sure what. The Enterprise still hummed around them. Ventilation moved cool air through the compartment. Somewhere beyond the bulkhead, footsteps passed in the corridor. A voice came over the shipwide announcing system requesting an engineering technician on Deck Seven. Two lockers down, somebody had left a red uniform shirt hanging halfway out of a door. It looked exactly like every other afternoon aboard ship. Except nobody was putting on a phaser. Mercer noticed that. He had gotten used to the weight without realizing it. Utility belt. Communicator. Phaser. The little collection of things Starfleet issued you when it expected the day might eventually require someone to be shot. His belt was hanging inside his locker. He closed the door. Rainer caught him looking at it. “You miss it already?” “No.” “Good.” Mercer glanced at her. “You?” “No.” She closed her locker. Then opened it again. Took out a small knife. Kane looked up. Rainer froze. For half a second nobody moved. Kane held out his hand. Rainer looked at the knife. Then at Kane. “It’s not a weapon.” Kane kept his hand out. “It’s a knife.” “It has other uses.” “Name three.” “Cutting.” “One.” Rainer frowned. Ox looked interested. “Opening things.” Kane waited. Rainer pointed the knife at him. “That should count as two.” Kane’s hand remained where it was. Rainer sighed and gave it to him. He dropped it onto the desk. “Collect it when you get back.” “This is shore leave, not incarceration.” “Then stop trying to smuggle a knife into it.” “I wasn’t smuggling it.” “You put it in your boot.” “I put lots of things in my boots.” Hale looked up. “That may be the least persuasive argument you’ve made all month.” Rainer gave him a look. Kane stood. That ended it. Not the argument. Rainer could maintain an argument against atmospheric decompression. It ended the waiting. “Transporter room. Five minutes.” Mercer grabbed his jacket. Ox lifted the canvas bag. Kane looked at it. Ox lowered the bag. “Sergeant Major.” “What?” “You gonna take my snacks too?” “No.” Ox nodded. “Good.” He picked it back up. They filed into the corridor. Mercer fell in beside Hale. “Does he always check everybody’s boots?” Hale glanced ahead. “No.” Rainer, without turning around, said, “He’s threatened by preparedness.” Kane kept walking. “I heard that.” “I prepared for that.” ## * * * The transporter room was busy. That alone felt unusual. Mercer had spent enough time around transporters to associate them with people trying to get somewhere because something had gone wrong. Security teams. Medical personnel. Technicians. Away parties checking equipment one last time before stepping onto colored circles and trusting several tons of machinery to take them apart correctly. This was different. People were smiling. Crewmen from sciences stood near the bulkhead in civilian clothes. Two women from engineering were arguing about whether they had remembered towels. A communications technician Mercer recognized only because she had once screamed at him for leaning against a relay cabinet was wearing sandals. Sandals. On a starship. Mercer stared. Rainer caught him. “What?” “Nothing.” “You’re staring.” “She has sandals.” Rainer looked. “So?” “I’ve never seen sandals on the Enterprise.” “You should get out more.” “We’re on a ship.” “That’s why we’re leaving it.” The transporter chief called the next group forward. Kane checked the time. Mercer noticed. “You know we’re off duty, right?” “Yes.” “You checked the time.” “Yes.” “Why?” Kane looked at him. Mercer waited. Kane stepped onto the transporter platform. Mercer nodded. “Right.” Ox joined him. “Maybe he likes clocks.” Kane closed his eyes. The transporter chief looked over his console. “Shore party?” Kane opened them again. “Unfortunately.” Rainer smiled. “That’s the spirit.” They took their places. Mercer looked down at the disk beneath his boots. He felt lighter without the phaser. That was probably ridiculous. There was almost no difference in actual weight. Still. He noticed it. The chief’s hand moved across the controls. The Enterprise disappeared. ## * * * Warm air touched Mercer’s face. For an instant there was only light. Then grass. Trees. Blue sky. Open space. Mercer breathed in. The air smelled green. That was the only word he had for it. Green and clean and slightly damp, with flowers somewhere nearby and earth warming beneath sunlight. He could hear water. Not plumbing. Not a recycling conduit. Actual water moving somewhere beyond the trees. Ox turned slowly in place. “Well.” Rainer stretched both arms overhead. “Oh, hell yes.” Hale looked toward the distant hills. Mercer just stood there. The Enterprise was gone. No deck beneath his boots. No ceiling. No vibration. The sky seemed enormous. He had forgotten skies could do that. Kane was already looking around. Tree line. Path. People. Distance. Mercer saw his eyes move once across everything they could see. Rainer saw it too. “You planning an invasion?” “No.” “Good.” Kane looked toward a cluster of Starfleet personnel fifty meters away. “I’d hate to interrupt your military analysis.” Rainer followed his gaze. A lieutenant in command gold stood near a portable field table. Several newly arrived crewmen had gathered around him. “Briefing,” Hale said. Rainer groaned. “We’re on leave.” “And apparently being briefed about it.” “That defeats the purpose.” Ox adjusted the strap on his bag. “Might tell us where lunch is.” Rainer looked at him. “You brought lunch.” “Snacks.” Mercer started walking. “Come on.” The lieutenant waited until the newly arrived group had gathered. There were perhaps twenty of them now. Security. Engineering. Sciences. Medical. People who had spent the last several days aboard the Enterprise hearing increasingly unbelievable stories about what had happened on the surface. Mercer had heard most of them. A white rabbit. A samurai. A knight. An airplane. A tiger. Captain Kirk fighting somebody from his academy days. Doctor McCoy dying and then apparently reconsidering the matter. Any one of those would have been enough to get a crewman sent to Sickbay for evaluation. All of them together had apparently earned the planet a shore-leave schedule. Starfleet could be strange. The lieutenant raised his voice. “All right. Most of you have already heard some version of what happened to the first landing parties.” Rainer murmured, “Seventeen versions.” Hale said, “At least.” The lieutenant continued. “The short version is that the planet is an automated recreation facility. It can apparently detect thoughts and manufacture people, environments, objects and situations based on them.” A crewman near the front raised a hand. “Sir, manufacture?” “That is the word used in the report.” “People too?” “Yes.” “Real people?” The lieutenant paused. “Real enough that you should not assume they can’t hurt you.” That quieted several people. Mercer noticed Kane’s attention sharpen. The lieutenant went on. “The planet’s Caretaker has assured the captain that injuries and even apparently fatal incidents can be repaired by the facility. That does not mean anybody here has permission to test the claim.” A few people laughed. The lieutenant did not. “Do not deliberately create situations that endanger other shore parties. Do not interfere with anyone else’s recreation. Do not discharge Starfleet weapons unless you encounter an actual emergency.” Rainer leaned toward Mercer. “There goes Hale’s afternoon.” Hale looked at her. “What exactly do you imagine I do for recreation?” “I don’t want to know.” “I read.” “That’s what I was afraid of.” “Also,” the lieutenant said, louder now, “think before you think.” That got a bigger laugh. Even the lieutenant smiled. “Yes, I’m aware of how that sounds. The system is responsive. Initial reports indicate that passing thoughts can become part of the environment. If you don’t want to encounter something, don’t spend a great deal of time imagining it.” Ox raised his hand. The lieutenant pointed at him. “Yes, crewman?” “What about food?” Rainer closed her eyes. The lieutenant blinked. “Food.” “Yes, sir.” “What about it?” “If you think about food, does it make food?” The lieutenant looked toward the portable table as if the answer might be written there. “I don’t know.” Ox nodded. “Thank you, sir.” Rainer whispered, “Useful contribution.” “I wanted to know.” “You brought snacks.” “That ain’t food.” Hale breathed through his nose. Mercer tried not to laugh. The lieutenant finished with instructions about transporter windows, communications check-ins and the areas designated for arriving and departing shore parties. Then he looked across them. “The captain has authorized the planet for shore leave. Use reasonable caution. Try not to create anything you can’t handle.” Rainer looked at Kane. Kane was already looking at her. “I didn’t say anything.” “You didn’t have to.” The lieutenant dismissed them. People scattered almost immediately. Some headed toward the lake. Others followed paths into the wooded areas. One group from engineering had apparently already agreed on something because they disappeared over a hill at a run. The five of them remained where they were. Mercer looked around. “So.” Nobody answered. He waited. Ox opened his bag. Rainer stared at him. “You’re eating already?” “We were briefed.” “That took six minutes.” “Long six minutes.” Hale looked toward the lake. “We could simply walk.” Rainer turned to him. “Walk.” “Yes.” “On the planet that makes whatever we imagine.” “Yes.” “You want to take a walk.” “There is nothing inherently wrong with walking.” “There is when reality is taking requests.” Hale folded his arms. “All right. What do you suggest?” Rainer looked around. Mercer saw the moment she realized she did not actually have an answer. “Well.” Kane started toward a stand of trees. “Good. We’ll walk.” Rainer hurried after him. “That wasn’t agreement.” “It was movement.” Ox followed. Mercer and Hale fell in behind them. The path curved through low trees whose leaves shifted between green and something almost silver in the sunlight. It was beautiful. Mercer had no idea what to do with it. That bothered him more than he expected. He had spent days wanting to get out of the tunnels. Weeks wanting something uncomplicated. Now someone had handed him an entire planet devoted to uncomplicated enjoyment and he had nothing. Rainer kicked a small stone off the path. “We should fight something.” Kane did not turn around. “No.” “I didn’t say what.” “No.” “What if it’s historical?” “No.” Hale said, “Why would historical make it better?” “Educational.” “That may be the least convincing use of the word educational I’ve ever heard.” Mercer smiled. “What kind of fight?” Rainer pointed at him. “See? Mercer gets it.” “I asked a question.” “A battle.” Kane stopped. Everyone stopped behind him. He turned around. “No battles.” Rainer stared. “Why?” “We just got off duty.” “That’s the best argument for a battle.” “No.” “What about swords?” “No.” “Arena?” “No.” “Ancient warriors?” “No.” Rainer thought. “Cowboys?” Hale frowned. “Why cowboys?” “I don’t know. They have guns.” Kane started walking again. “Still no.” Ox chewed something. “What about fishing?” Everyone looked at him. Ox stopped chewing. “What?” Mercer said, “Fishing.” “Yeah.” Rainer spread her arms toward the landscape. “You can have anything.” “I like fishing.” “Anything you can imagine.” “That’s why I picked good fishing.” Kane nodded. “Best suggestion so far.” Rainer looked genuinely wounded. “You cannot be serious.” “Quiet. Water. Nobody trying to kill us.” Ox pointed at him. “See?” Hale said, “There’s a lake.” Ox looked toward it. “There is.” Rainer stepped between them and walked backward. “No. Absolutely not. I did not beam down to the impossible alien fantasy planet to watch you two sit beside water.” “We wouldn’t make you come,” Ox said. “That makes it worse.” Mercer laughed. Rainer looked at him. “You have a better idea?” Mercer thought about it. “Exploration.” Kane said, “We’re already doing that.” “No, I mean actual exploration.” “Of what?” Mercer looked around. He had no idea. “Something.” Rainer nodded. “Good.” Hale looked between them. “That is not an idea.” “It’s the beginning of one.” “It’s barely a noun.” Mercer ignored him. “What about ruins?” “Whose ruins?” Hale asked. “Does it matter?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because if the planet is recreating them from our imagination, someone has to imagine them.” Rainer grinned. “Cursed ruins.” Hale looked at her. “No.” Mercer said, “Why not?” “Because if we explicitly imagine cursed ruins on a planet that manufactures our thoughts, we deserve whatever follows.” Kane glanced back. “Hale has the second-best suggestion.” “That wasn’t a suggestion,” Rainer said. “It still ranks second.” Ox nodded. “Fishing’s winning.” Rainer muttered something Mercer did not catch. They reached a clearing. A broad meadow opened ahead of them, sloping down toward the water. Several crewmen were already there. Someone had imagined horses. At least Mercer assumed they had. Four of them galloped across the field with riders hanging on badly and laughing. Mercer watched them go. Rainer did too. “Horses.” Hale looked at her. “You want horses?” “No.” “Then why did you say horses?” “I was considering them.” Ox said, “They bite.” Mercer looked at him. “Have you been bitten by a horse?” “No.” “Then how do you know?” “Horse.” Mercer considered that. Fair enough. Hale sat on a fallen log near the edge of the clearing. “Historical recreation might actually be worthwhile.” Rainer made a noise. Hale looked at her. “You haven’t heard it.” “You said worthwhile.” “Yes.” “That’s how I know I don’t like it.” Hale ignored her. “This system can apparently reproduce environments and people from memory or imagination. If it can construct a reasonably accurate historical setting—” “We could watch a battle,” Rainer said. “No.” “Participate in a battle?” “No.” “Start a battle?” “Why is everything a battle?” Rainer stared at him. “Why isn’t anything a battle?” Mercer sat beside Hale. “What would you pick?” Hale thought about it. That surprised Mercer. He had expected an answer waiting. “Something we couldn’t ordinarily experience.” Rainer sat on the grass. “That narrows it down to everything.” “A historical event.” Ox lowered himself beside her. “Which one?” Hale hesitated again. Rainer’s smile appeared. “You don’t know.” “I know several.” “You don’t know.” “I am deciding.” “You’ve been waiting your whole life for someone to ask this question and you don’t know.” Hale looked offended. “That is an absurd conclusion.” Mercer leaned toward him. “She’s got you.” “She does not.” Kane remained standing. He had found a tree whose shade covered the edge of the clearing and leaned one shoulder against it. Mercer watched him. “What would you do?” Kane looked at him. Mercer immediately understood that this question had somehow crossed a line nobody else could see. “What?” “If you could pick anything.” “I picked shore leave.” “That’s not a thing.” “I’m standing on it.” Rainer twisted around. “No, Mercer’s right.” Kane looked at her. “That sentence has never improved my day.” “What do you want?” “Quiet.” Ox lifted his hand slightly. “Fishing.” Kane pointed at him. “Still winning.” Rainer fell backward into the grass. “Goddammit.” Mercer laughed. For a little while nobody said anything. The meadow moved beneath the wind. Water glittered beyond it. Someone shouted in the distance when one of the horses apparently decided the ride was over before its rider did. Mercer felt sunlight on his face. He realized he was smiling. Not because anything had happened. Nothing had. That might have been the reason. He looked toward the hills. “What about an adventure?” Rainer lifted her head. Hale looked at him. Ox stopped eating. Kane did not move. Rainer sat up. “What kind?” Mercer shrugged. “An adventure.” Hale frowned. “That is not more specific than exploration.” “I know.” “Which you already suggested.” “I know.” Rainer pointed at Hale. “Stop helping.” Mercer searched for the thing he meant. Not battle. Not history. Not fishing. Something else. “When you were a kid,” he said, “didn’t you ever want to go somewhere from a story?” Hale’s expression changed. Only slightly. Rainer saw it too. “Oh.” Hale looked at her. “What?” “You had one.” “I did not.” “You absolutely had one.” Mercer grinned. “What was it?” “Nothing.” Ox looked at Hale. “You’re a bad liar.” “I am not lying.” Kane said, “You are.” Hale looked at him. Kane remained against the tree. Hale sighed. “There were several books.” Rainer leaned forward. “Of course there were.” “What is that supposed to mean?” “You wanted to vacation in a library.” “I said books, not libraries.” “Same disease.” Mercer laughed. “What stories?” Hale named one. Mercer had never heard of it. Rainer stared at him. “That sounds terrible.” “You have no idea what it is.” “It has four names.” “It has one title.” “Four words.” Ox said, “What happens?” Hale began explaining. Rainer lasted perhaps fifteen seconds. “Does anybody get stabbed?” Hale stopped. “Eventually.” Rainer considered. “Keep going.” Hale refused. Mercer looked toward the lake again. A story. That was it. They didn’t need to recreate history. They didn’t need a battle. They didn’t even need to know exactly what they wanted the planet to do. They could borrow something that already existed. He remembered rainy afternoons at home. Too many people in too little space. Brothers arguing. Sisters taking things. Someone shouting from another room. Books handed down until the covers loosened and pages carried fingerprints from people Mercer had never met. Stories read because there was nowhere else to go. Ships. Islands. Treasure. Men who lied. Men who fought. Maps with places marked by an X because apparently nobody in those stories had ever heard of coordinates. Mercer looked at the others. “What about Treasure Island?” Silence. Rainer blinked. Then sat up straighter. “Pirates?” Mercer smiled. “Pirates.” “Swords?” “Yes.” “Treasure?” “That is generally considered an important part.” Rainer looked at Kane. He had already closed his eyes. Hale said, “Actually—” Rainer pointed at him. “Careful.” Hale ignored her. “A period sailing vessel would be interesting.” Rainer stared at him. Then slowly smiled. “We got Hale.” “You did not get me.” “We got Hale.” “I said the vessel would be interesting.” “Which is Hale for yes.” Ox looked at Mercer. “Ship?” “A big one.” “Wood?” “Wood.” Ox nodded slowly. “Never been on one.” Mercer looked at Kane. Rainer looked at Kane. Hale looked at Kane. Ox looked at Kane. Kane opened his eyes. “No.” Mercer frowned. “You haven’t heard the whole idea.” “I’ve heard pirates, swords and a wooden ship.” “Treasure,” Rainer added. Kane looked at her. “Thank you.” “You left out the best part.” Ox raised a hand. “How long are we talking?” Everyone looked at him. Ox lowered his hand. “What?” Mercer said, “I don’t know.” “Couple hours?” “Maybe.” Ox considered that. “All right.” Rainer stared. “That’s what you needed?” “I got snacks.” Mercer looked at Kane again. “It could be fun.” Kane’s face gave no indication he recognized the word. Hale stood. “There is some merit to the idea.” Rainer pointed at him again. “Got him.” “Stop saying that.” “You’re coming.” “I said there was merit.” “That’s basically enthusiasm for you.” Kane looked from one face to the next. Mercer waited. He had seen Kane stare down armed men with less resistance than he was currently giving four crewmen on leave. Rainer smiled sweetly. It was not a reassuring expression. “Sergeant Major.” “No.” “Pirates.” “No.” “Swords.” “No.” “Treasure.” “No.” Ox said, “Ship.” Kane looked at him. Ox shrugged. “Big one.” For perhaps three seconds nobody spoke. Wind moved through the grass. Somewhere behind them, one of the horses whinnied. Kane sighed. “How long?” Rainer’s grin widened. “That means yes.” “It means how long.” “That’s yes.” “Hale.” Hale straightened. “Technically, Sergeant Major, I would characterize it as conditional approval.” Kane looked at him. Hale held the expression for almost two seconds. Then: “Yes.” Rainer laughed. Mercer got to his feet. For the first time since they had stepped onto the planet, all five of them appeared to be going in the same direction. He looked around the group. “Treasure Island?” Ox nodded. Hale nodded. Rainer was already on her feet. Kane looked at the four of them. Then toward the open meadow. Then back again. “Fine.” Mercer smiled. Treasure Island.