Milo

If Milo had been strong enough Dad would still be alive. Not again, never. He would not waver. His hands clenched into fists, his eyes closed. He had failed Dad, never again. The water deposit revealed itself, he tore into it and the sweetness flooded. Electrical tendrils crackled out from between his fingers. They snaked across his body, jumping around. The slight tingling sensation was reassuring, empowering even. Never again. He turned around and extended his palms forward. Tendrils merged into each other. Blue lightning bolts thundered forward and crashed into the room’s interior bulkhead wall. Black scorch marks spread across the metal surface, joining all the other burns.

He picked up the bottle of water from the floor, but his hand trembled and he hesitated. Had the shakes worsened? Images flashed through his mind. Wild blue tendrils electrocuting bystanders. Dad’s body caving in. Carl’s molten rock sizzling against his electrical barrier, which desperately kept agony and a fiery death at bay. The images pressed with emotional contexts. His hands trembled violently. With closed eyes and a frowning face he shook his head from side to side. Never again!

“I am strong enough,” Milo muttered under his breath.

Clenched fist, sweetness channeled into his mouth. He extended the palm forward. A continuous stream of lightning bolts slammed into the wall. Thunder after thunder. The room shook from the violent force.

The images faded, their emotions temporarily suppressed. His shoulders relaxed, his hands stopped trembling and he ceased to pump out lightning bolts.

He held the water bottle steady in his left hand and he drained its content. The refreshing cold liquid invigorated him. But the water would not join the deposit until his body had processed it.

He turned and walked over to the bulkhead wall that had been behind him. The electrical access hub on the wall was opened and one of its cables were exposed. Parts of the wire insulation had been sheared off to reveal the inner, metal cores. He reached forward, but halted his hand. One inhale and his mind calmed.

“In bursts,” Milo reminded himself.

His hand grasped onto the exposed cable.

Sweetness exploded. The world slowed down, his mind sped up. Electrical energy pumped into him and his body drank it greedily, the feeling not as overwhelming as it once had been. He was in control. The bottom of the source would be deep. His mind raced across the Final Sight’s careful wiring. It honed in on the fusion reactor. He let go of the cable and the world sped up again.

...Empowered. The barriers of hesitation and fear obliterated. He, a conduit of excited electrons. Energy rippled through him. His very breath electrifying the air.

With his eyes closed he clenched and unclenched his fists, looking for the state of equilibrium. But the added capacity slowly dripped between his fingers. He struggled to hold on to it, but the sweet water was not enough. But the struggle continued, he was trying to will his body to hold onto the energy. The dwindling of the added capacity slowed down, but yet it kept leaking away.

He dove into his own mind and sped past the water deposit. The blood deposit grew distinct and reachable. He tore into it and the iron taste flooded his mouth.

The new energy had not left him yet. In. Control. Tendrils came to life and raced across his body, more numerous and vibrant than ever before. They merged, jumped and unmerged in a seemingly chaotic manner. The blood deposit drained slowly, but surely. The switch to turn it off was distinct and he knew that to sever it would be easy. But the feeling of being powerful was addictive. If he just would have been strong enough, Dad would still be alive. He ran across the room, lightning crackled in his footsteps. The third deposit grew distinct and almost within reach. He stopped and severed the blood connection.

…His confidence washed away. The iron taste vanished and the energy slid between his fingers until his capacity returned to its normal state. No headache, no pain was left in its wake. And the blood deposit was not drained completely.

He had been so close to maintain the added capacity with just the water. He had grown stronger over the last three months. His natural capacity had grown, his ability to wield new and higher external sources had improved. Maybe he would be able to tore into the blood deposit without the external source? Soon. The third deposit only became distinct when he had tried to run as hard as possible with the added energy. The effect had to be bound to mobility.

The bulkhead door slid to the side and Diego stepped inside. The Mexican wore a smile on his face.

“Milo! I have made tacos for the crew. You wanna follow me and round them up?” Doc said and looked at the burnt wall. “You have trained enough for today. Your body needs rest and delicious food. It’s within my right as a medical officer to order you this. I command you to consume nutrients.”

Milo grabbed his bottle and could not stop his stomach growling on the prospect of food. “Yeah, let's do it.”

“Come here,” Doc said and put an arm around him. “At least your lips are not chapped and your vitals look alright. Don’t push your limits too fast.”

-

First stop, Claire’s mechanical workshop. Milo walked ahead of Diego, who read from a hand terminal. He glanced at it, it was some medical stuff he didn’t recognise.

The corridors stood empty and most of the living quarters too. Since their escape from Europe13 had been so sudden many of the crew had been left behind. Meaning that everyone on leave was not with them anymore. Some of those that had been onboard didn’t like how things had developed the last three months. Ill tempers were common among isolated people and knowing that they would stay isolated forever made people angry. Some stole shuttles and left. The remaining crew was a single shift worth of people, plus Beth. A skeleton crew. The ship felt hollow.

They came upon Claire’s workshop and the sound of hard work struck in the silence. Metal against metal. Laughter and Sam’s prominent dark voice. The door was already slid aside.

Lining the inner walls of the workshop were countless racks of tools and materials. Everything a mechanical engineer would need. A combat suit stood in the middle of the room. It was made for violence and destruction. The multi barrelled cannon attached to one arm looked fierce. But there were other attachments which he could not specify, like the cylindrical containers on the side of the suit’s fuel cell.

Claire’s round, sooty face came up behind the combat suit. “Morning, guys! What’s happening?”

“Tacos,” Doc declared.

“Nice!” Claire said,walking up to Doc and giving him a wet kiss on the cheek.

Their relationship had somehow thrived in this hollow and empty ship.

“Blue!” Sam’s brawny frame stepped forward from another part of the workshop, his bald head shining in the strong overhead light.

Sam’s left arm had been replaced by a cybernetic prosthesis. Its size and look matched its owner’s violent nature. There was a sense of immediate danger to it. Scales of black metal created its surface, motor muscles gave it strength and an enhanced battery provided it with power. Lines of silver extended out from the point where the cybernetic parts merged into Sam’s real flesh, just at shoulder level.

“The things we need to talk about! We have made some cool upgrades to my new rig,” Sam said, when the Captain started talking about his rigs and weapons there was no way of shouting him up. “Synergy is the whole new thing.”

“Over tacos, Sam,” Milo said. “You will have all the time in the world to brag about your and Claire’s inventions.”

Sam winked. “I will need your help to try them out.”

“Right,” Milo said. “Let’s go get Leo.”

Second stop, the bridge. They heard the snoring before even making it inside. Leopold sat asleep, half sitting, half leaning against the control board. His hands were still clutching at the joysticks. Was this a good sign or not? A man of dedication or was he nearing a full on burnout? Doc said nothing. Not just the isolation had affected them all in different ways, but also all the grief they felt. The escape from Europe13 and essentially all of mankind had strained them. Milo decided not to press the issue, some things were better left unsaid. Everybody dealt with strong emotions in their own personal way. He was not justified to judge people, especially the crew.

Claire stepped forward and shook the old pilot. “Wakey, wakey!”

“Blow the clamps!” Leo yelled and came startling awake.

The redness in his eyes made Milo worried. Don’t press, he reminded himself. The pressure on them all was terrifyingly heavy.

“We have tacos,” Doc said.

Leo hugged Claire. “I am starving.”

“Leopold, are we still on course?” Sam asked.

Leo tidied his navy fatigues. “Ayay, Capt’n! We are tight on that alien orb’s ass.”

“Nicely done,” Sam replied.

Third stop, Dr. Birgitta’s lab. Formerly known as living quarters five and six. The wall between the two rooms had been brought down to give the norwegian woman a lot of space to fill with all kinds of scientific equipment. Milo knew maybe half the things by their looks, the other half might as well be alien things.

Sam pushed Milo to the side and walked in first. “Dr. Birgitta! You look ravenous. Doc has cooked tacos for us. You need nutrients for your brain, so it can operate at optimal levels.”

Dr. Birgitta challenged both Sam’s height and width. A giantess from the land of the giants. She turned away from her current experiment and smiled wide. The kind of smile that only she was able to produce, many of her white teeth were revealed proudly.

“Actually, you are correct, Captain. I am hungry, and yes, I have felt my brain slowing down a bit. But let me just finish off here,” Dr. Birgitta said.

Milo looked at his Captain. Sam seemed a little too effectuated by her and the jargon he used, it was not his usual style. There had to be a thing between them, how could he have missed that before? Isolation had two possible outcomes, either it deepened the bonds between people or it shattered them. The crew who was left had their bonds strengthened. Maybe it was a good thing that they were fewer now?

“While you wait, I will go and see Beth. Maybe I can convince her to eat with us,” Milo said.

“Can you check on her vitals for me?” Doc asked.

“Yeah,” Milo replied.

Sam turned to him. “Don’t be too naive, boy.”

“See you in the mess hall,” Milo said.

-

Fourth and final stop, Beth’s cell. Its door had been unlocked and she had been allowed to join the rest of the crew since a week after the escape, but she had been firm about staying inside it. The cell had all the functions and facilities a living quarters had, the only thing making it a cell was Beth’s stubbornness.

Milo halted by the cell’s door and touched it. The surface turned transparent. Beth sat on the floor with her knees against her face and arms around her legs. A depressing sight, but at least her skin was not turned into metal today. A sign of progress. She might have started to process the events.

“Doc has made tacos. For everyone,” Milo said, his voice carried through the door, he knew she could hear him. “I would love to have my sister sit beside me at the table.”

She looked up. “Not a good idea.”

“But,” Milo started.

She interrupted him. “The others gave up on me several weeks ago. It is time for you to do the same. I will eat from the synthesizer.”

Her chin dipped, her face down and between her knees.

“No! The only way I am leaving this cell is in a body bag,” Beth said.

What could he do? He needed to put inspiration into her heart, so she would be willing to leave this room. There had to be a way to break her cycle of hopelessness and fear of hurting others? The latter might be difficult, but the first. What put the spark in Beth’s eyes? What was she passionate about? Science. The science behind the powers.

“We have broken new ground about the deposits. We know why most of the deposits are not within reach. I can almost reach a third one now,” Milo said. “I can teach you the secrets.”

Beth didn’t look up, but there had been a slight hesitation in her face. He was sure. A slight frown on her forehead, he had poked at her curiosity. There was hope.

“I will get you out. My promise to you,” Milo said. “Regardless of your stubborn declarations, I will get you tacos.”

Without giving her a chance to counter his statement, Milo left her. The transparent wall turned solid again. He had not won her over yet, but today was the turning point. There was a crack in her stubbornness and he knew how to shatter it.

-

“Pass the sauce!” Diego announced loudly.

Milo sat down on the bench with the others. There were not many of them left, but their spirits were high and they shared the center table. It felt homely.

Sam handed the Doc the jar with the red chili sauce, smiling. “Don’t get too confident.”

“Ayay, Capt’n,” Doc replied.

Claire bit down on the hard shell in her hands, it crunched. His stomach growled in jealousy, he reached out and grabbed a plate.

Leo dropped a light brown, soft taco shell onto the plate. “Here you go, Milo. So, as I was saying. I kept the corvette inside the cruiser’s blindspot. They had no clue we were there! My payload of combat suits deployed and the ship was ours again. Once the Americans detected that they had an invasion party inside their bulkheads it was too late. Caught pissing with their pants down.”

Milo laughed, while preparing his taco. Minced chicken, shredded cheese, advocado, cucumber, garlic sauce, mango, champignons and he topped it off with diced red onion. Everything was printed from the synthesizer. There had been little time for him to do any cooking lately, his training consuming all waking hours. Also, their storage of real food stuff had already been depleted. Real or not, printed food still filled their bellies. Until the synthesizers ran dry.

“I have a suggestion,” Dr. Birgitta said, her voice loud and strong, it was clear she enjoyed their company. “We need a name for the aliens. I am too tired to keep thinking and saying ‘alien’ and ‘aliens’. A proper name.”

Sam raised his glass. “I second our science officer’s suggestion!”

“Aye!” Leo announced.

Milo chipped in. “Yes. I agree, it has grown stale.”

“Obviously! Venga!” The Doc said.

Claire leaned in, wiping her mouth of crumbs. “Yeah!”

“So, maybe we should run a poll?” Dr. Birgitta said. “Throw all our suggestions into a pile and let our votes decide. Come by the lab and drop your names. I will give us a few days.”

Milo chewed into his made taco, the flavours exploding in his mouth.

“So, Blue,” Sam started. “The new rig has received some modifications. I have been eager to show you the work. We will need to do some tests, just to make sure everything functions.”

When Sam started talking about his rigs and weapons there was no one stopping him.

“Claire and I have stripped fuel cells, modified them a bit and attached them to my new rig. I will be able to power you up, mid combat.”

Milo nodded in approval. “That sounds great. We cannot rely upon having an external source nearby.”

It was a great idea. The logic not far fetched at all. Since he still relied upon external sources for additional capacity and access to the blood deposit, having these batteries in battle would be beneficial.

“I like it!” Milo said.

“I told you, he would,” Claire announced proudly. “We have also engineered a lightning rod and which you could temporarily charge up, and for the Capt’n to discharge.”

“Cool,” Milo said.

“Also, I am working on an idea to use your electric energy to power his rig,” Claire said.

Milo nodded. “You have been busy.”

“And, and! You should see how this thing,” Sam said and brandished his cybernetic arm. “It interfaces so goddamn perfect with the rig! With the new software it is outstanding. The receptors pick up motions quicker, so the motor muscles are put in movement faster. Also, the strength in this. It is outstanding. I have a crazy idea. What if I willingly replaced more parts of me with cybernetic prostheses and implants?”

“What?” Milo said in unison with the Doc. “That is stupid and unnecesserarily dangrous.”

Sam put up his hands in defense. “Stop, before you angrily voice your opinions. Let me finish. I have thought this through. The danger is only initial. Then it only benefits. Any damaged cybernetics part would be more easily replaced than human tissue. Swap and swap. All attributes are improved.”

Claire looked away, obviously not the first time she heard this rant. Dr. Birgitta looked intrigued, even though the concept was ethically debatable. Were all scientists like this? Leo looked as upset as Milo felt. The Doc looked disgusted by the idea, shaking his head in disagreement.

“That is insane, Sam,” Milo said, his hunger suddenly flipped off.

“The list of complexities is long. And if I performed the surgery on you, you would never be able to return. Tissue replaced with cybernetics is permanent,” the Doc explained. “But when will you feel satisfied? If we start by augmenting your limbs, why would you not want to start reinforcing your organs? You would become a mechanical junkie.”

Sam shook his head. “But the benefits are too good.”

“Thus the crew votes against Sam receiving the full cybernetic upgrade,” Milo said. “Sam, I like you better in human flesh. Even if you survive the surgeries, I don’t think it is worth it.”

Sam stared back at him.

Diego leaned back. “Soldiers wounded in duty have been fitted with cybernetics for years, some more, some less. To integrate cybernetics as intrusive and extensive as the Captain suggests, has never been done. There have been trials. There will always be people willing to bend the limits on what the human body can handle. In the cases most similar to yours, the person suffered major negative effects on his quality of life and lifespan. I am not doing it, and I am the chief medical officer on this ship and thus it will not happen.”

“I am the Captain. Doc, you are smart enough to improve the concept. With Claire’s mechanical skills, Dr. Birgitta’s science and your talents, Doc, I am sure we can pull it off,” Sam said.

Diego shook his head. “No. And that’s final.”

Sam sighed. “Alright. Have it your way, buzzkill.”

“I have some reservations towards Milo’s continued usage of his power,” Diego said. “He pushes himself to the limit everyday. We don’t really know how his power works, it just does. We cannot say if there exists any long term effects.”

“A lie. I do know. My manifestation originates from my emotions and especially from my hook. The deposits of liquids are used to fuel that manifestation, giving it power. Each liquid is a different modifier. Water being the most basic one and blood providing a tenfold increase of effect. We only know about two of those so far, but I am sure there are more deposits, because the body has more kinds of liquids. Saif categorized all the effects as attributes, which in turn could be external or internal, passive or active. Throwing lightning bolts is an active and external attribute,” Milo said.

Diego wore irritation on his face. “No. I don’t mean those things, those mechanics we do know. But what about the long term effects of dehydration and blood loss? Professional athletes have short careers compared to other occupations and do you know why? Because beyond a certain age, all that training becomes impossible. Your body ages, the rate at which cells divide decrease and your ability to recover falls. Yes, we know how you fuel, modify and use different attributes with your power. But how does it really work? Do you have an organ which takes this fuel and translates it to the power we witness? Or what? If you are not careful you will slam into a wall and never get up.”

“You have a point,” Milo said. “But, I...”

Dr. Birgitta leaned forward. “A really interesting question, one which we have not yet asked ourselves. One which might yield interesting answers, if it ever was. But as of now, it cannot be answered.”

Milo sighed. “Diego and Birgitta, I don’t know. We don’t know. I don’t even think Saif knows. That part of the powers is just too abstract. But I cannot stop now. I need to keep hitting and I need to hit hard. Or else we fail.”

“Yes, yes. Of course. That wall is incoming,” Diego said.

“Doc, take it down a notch. We don’t need that attitude,” Sam said.

“I just think it needs to be thought through. I don’t want Milo to accidently do himself harm, that’s all,” Diego said.

The mood around the table sank. Milo tried his best to finish off his taco, his body surely needed the nutrients but he was not hungry anymore.

“I will give Beth a plate and then I will go to bed,” Milo said.

“She will not eat it. You know it, I know it, we all know it,” Sam said. “Let her be alone. She wants it that way..”

But Milo would not listen as he stuffed a new soft shell taco with interesting content. Maybe it would look too tasty for her to resist. Maybe this time.

Claire leaned in closer to Sam. “Capt’n, I think I can be of more use. I want to do battle with you. Everyone needs to pull their weight and then some.”

Sam sighed, and Milo recognised the frown on his forehead, this was not the first time this conversation had happened and probably not the last. “Claire. No. We have been over this. It will not work. What would be done if our best engineer got herself killed in a firefight? No, you are too valuable to us. And this is the last time we will talk about it.”

Claire looked hurt, she really wanted to help, and Milo was positive that this was not the end of it, the girl had a certain stubbornness to her. She would have her will put through, it was just a matter for Sam to accept it.

Milo put the finished taco on the plate and left.