Molly Fyde and the Parsona Rescue

She turned to Cole, dead serious. “She does not set foot in a cockpit until she chooses to, okay?”

“Okay, okay. I’m just worried we aren’t getting enough sleep. Between thrusting along looking for good jump points, respooling the hyperdrive, and tearing the ship apart… I just think everyone needs to be helping out. Spread the load.”

“I know, Cole.” Molly rubbed her hands up her face and through her hair. “I’m sorry to snap. I just have some of Edison in me I guess. Something makes me want to wrap that poor girl up and keep her safe.”

“She certainly elicits that reaction.”

“Please try and trust her. For me.”

“I trust you,” he said, turning to gaze through the porthole on his side.

She smiled at that and looked back to the pinwheel of fire.

“It is beautiful out here.” After a pause, she added, “With you.”

Their hands found each other without having to look, a dominate hand healing from its wounds and a clumsy one groping and trembling to do its best.

They intertwined. Indistinguishable.

“I’m sorry,” Cole said.

••••

They sat like that for a long while, allowing everyone, the ship included, to enjoy the rare state of rest. Cole broke the spell, leaning forward to the nav computer and the work that had been keeping him occupied for the last two days.

“Why don’t you go take a nap?” Molly asked. “It’s my shift.”

“I can’t sleep right now.”

“Why? What’re you working on?”

“I’m still trying to integrate these four different star charts. The three new ones differ in places and our old copy is the absolute pits.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Uh, you mean besides flying into Darrin the way we did?”

“They’re just old, Cole. And they are my parent’s charts, so you need to talk nice to them.” She pouted, which drew a chuckle. “Besides, I just wanted them for the nostalgia; you shouldn’t be using them for navigational purposes.”

“I know, but look at this.” He pulled up an area around Menkar. “You see these stars here?”

Molly nodded and Cole continued, “This is from your parents’ charts, the ones that’ve been getting us in trouble.”

Molly shot him a look.

“Watch,” he said.

He clicked away at the keyboard as Molly turned back to her screen. The stars disappeared. “Hey, don’t delete them.”

“I didn’t. All I did was pull up the GN charts we bought from Albert.” He tapped his screen. “These stars aren’t in his charts at all. Any of them. I wouldn’t have noticed the difference, but this is the chart that leads back to Earth. I know it by heart, even at a glance.”

“What do you think it means?” Molly studied the chart on her own screen. “Could it be really old data? Could all three have gone nova since this chart was created?”

“Statistically unlikely, as Edison would say. And lemme zoom in, the stars have really weird names. Listen to this: Horton Hears a Who, The Cat in the Hat, Green Eggs and Ham. I know astrologers are a loopy crowd, but c’mon, have you ever heard star names that bizarre?”

Molly’s jaw dropped. She stared at the nav screen. “Actually, I have.”

“Yeah. Right.”

 “I’m serious. Those are books my parents used to read to me, back before we left Lok and came to Earth.”

“Your parents read you books about these three stars?”

“No, genius, these stars must’ve been named after the books. In fact, I doubt the stars are real.” She looked back at the screen. “My parents must’ve inserted them on purpose.”

“Well that might explain the weirdest part. Watch this.”

Cole clicked on the triple star system and tried to open them up for inspection. Normally this would zoom in to another level of detail with orbiting planets, survey data, and cultural history. A standard text input box popped up instead.

NAME (FIRST/LAST):_

Molly backed her hands away from the computer. She’d never seen a dialog box on a star chart.

“I just found this a few hours ago,” Cole said. “I tried your name and each of your parents’ names. I was hopin’ to crack it before Walter got a chance and did it in, like, two seconds.”

“Did you put in Mortimor or Mortimus for my father’s name?”

“Both. I do pay attention to your stories, you know.”

Molly leaned forward and gave it a shot.

NAME (FIRST/LAST):WADE/LUCIN_

She hit enter, but nothing happened. Molly racked her brain, unable to think of anyone else this might’ve been meant for. Then it occurred to her. A name she’d long forgotten. “I know what it is,” she told Cole.

NAME (FIRST/LAST):DR/SEUSS_

She pressed the enter key. Again, nothing happened. She tried spelling out “Doctor” with the same result. She searched her memory but couldn’t remember the author’s first name, if he even had one.

“And you tried my name?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“Have you tried the names both ways?”

“Nope. It clearly says first then last. I tried with and without the slash, though.”

Molly nodded, then froze. Her own question had jarred loose an old fact: the Lokian spelling of her name, the one she’d been given at birth, changed later to conceal her planet of origin. This was her parents’ ship. If they put this in here for her to find, they would’ve used a spelling only the three of them knew.

Molly felt a tingle of excitement shiver through her. This was the secret she’d been hunting for, it had to be. And no wonder she couldn’t find it! The secret was just a bunch of 1’s and 0’s locked away in a computer.

She felt dizzy as she typed in the answer. In mere moments she would receive a message from her father. Something that would help the Navy end the Drenard War. Maybe enough to go to the Navy, explain Lucin’s death, and stop running. All this and more flashed through her head as she finished typing the answer:

NAME (FIRST/LAST):MOLLIE/FYDE_

She hit the enter key and waited for something to happen.

The nav screen went blank. The star charts disappeared. In their place sat a green phosphorous cursor. Flashing. Letters spilled forth, one at a time, as if someone were typing them.

MOLLIE?_

She glanced at Cole, expecting to find his fingers at the keys. He stared back at her, his brows coming together. “Someone must be connected to us through a nearby relay station,” he said, but not with conviction. “Or Walter is playing with us.” He unplugged his flightsuit and cast off his harness.

Molly put a hand on his chest, holding him in place. She typed a response.

THIS IS MOLLIE_

She hesitated to press the enter key this time. None of this made sense; the secret had to be something else. She hit the button.

MOLLIE. THIS IS PARSONA. YOUR MOTHER_

The words flowed out from left to right in a steady stream. The impossible nature of them punched her in the gut. The screen went a little out of focus.