It takes the better part of an hour for my stasis tank to drain and for my senses to come back to me. Waking up is a slow, not so pleasant experience. At first, as the numbness fades away and the tank drains, then the artificial gravity kicks back on. But I’m still under the effects of sleep paralysis, so I can’t even control my muscles as the pod operator removes all of the equipment from my body. There are tubes in my arms, a helmet over my head, and sensors attached to various nerve endings. It takes some time, and all I can do is sit here feeling like a big blob of jelly.

By the time my vision is clear and I’m really back into the real world, I’ve already been plucked out of the pod and placed down in a wheelchair. My skin shivers and crawls. I pull the blanket draped over my shoulders tighter, always forgetting just how cold outer space travel is. My doctor, and pod operator, comes into view. At first, she’s a bit blurry, but with a couple of blinks I can see well enough to make out her details. She has short, light brown hair, dark green eyes, and is always happy to see me. Except for today.

“Aiden, can you hear me?”

I nod groggily and rub my eyes a few times. “Yeah” I say, my chest wheezing and rattling.

“You’re not supposed to wake up for another year.” Her eyes are stern like how my mother’s used to be when she scolded me.

“I know,” I say with a croak. “I’m sorry. But it’s for a good reason, Dr. Conway.”

She slips up and smiles a little, letting her pearly whites peek out. It’s been three years since I’ve seen her last, and she really doesn’t look any less pretty. Pod operators are probably one of the most selfless people in existence. They have this life-extending technology right in front of them, but they dedicate their lives to helping all the other people in them. I know they have knock-off helmets that gives them access to a partial experience of Libertas, but I’ve never heard Dr. Conway say she’s played before.

“Just call me April,” she says. “I’ve known you too long and been through too much trying to keep you safe, so don’t be so formal with me, Aiden. Now, tell me why you are up.”

“Can I—” My chest rattles like no other, so I pause to cough and try to clear my throat, but have no luck. Just hearing my own voice like this scares me. I knew that the tumor-like infection was beginning to spread into my chest cavity, but I sound like a garbage disposal on bone-crusher mode. I feel like one too. With a shrug, I say, “I need to talk with the captain.”

“Why do you need to talk to the captain?” April asks. She rolls on a chair to the side of me and begins taking a temperature reading from my ear.

“About a day or two ago I decided I would give Libertas a try.”

“Well, that’s good.” She pats me on the shoulder. “That’s better than just sleeping, I think.”

“Yeah, maybe, but that’s not why I’m here. I overheard some people in-game. They were talking about stealing the keys to the Shield or something.”

April studies me. “The Shield doesn’t have keys, Aiden.”

I scratch the back of my head. “Yeah, but I think it means something. I think they’re referring to something.”

April kinda half rolls her eyes as discreetly as she can, then says, “I mean, I’ll see what I can do to get the captain down here, but I can’t promise he’ll show up. He’s a busy guy.”

I sigh. “I know. But thank you.”

With a shove of her legs, she rolls her chair across the metal floor to a desk and begins to type on the keyboard. The paper-thin screen changes a few times, but it’s far enough away that I can’t read what she’s sending, and then she returns to my side. We spent nearly 45 minutes together, her examining my stomach and chest, and explaining to me how things have been since we spoke last. So far, it seems like nothing has really changed. I still have the body of a 15-year-old, even though I’m 20 chronologically (and maturity wise, I’d argue).

The bad news is that the doctors and scientists aren’t any closer to finding a way to remove the growth. Every time they’ve tried, it just comes back. I glance down at the fresh bandages around my stomach. The skin from my rib cage up has begun to change into a yellowish green. Without looking, I know there’s a big puckered spot on the side of my belly where the Culicidae stabbed me. And ever since I’ve been staving off this alien infection. Trying to buy myself every second I can in stasis while the doctors on all the ships try to find some way to stop it. I know better than to be hopeful, what with all the lack of resources that come with hurtling through deep space, and I wonder how much time I have outside of stasis. I ask for a rough estimation, but before April gets too far the electric door to the pod-room whooshes open.

A wide man enters on hobbled strides. Heavy wrinkles bag underneath his eyes and a scraggly black beard has grown below his neck. His clothes don’t identify him easily, but Captain Royal has to be at least 50 years old, by the looks of him. He has a half-warm half smile that somehow manages to say, ‘nice to see you’ and ‘why the hell are you bothering me’ at the same time.

April stands upright and shakes his hand. “Captain.”

“April,” he says, then his heavy gaze settle on me. “So, you’re Aiden?”

“Yes,” I say. “I need to speak with you, if you have the time, sir. It’s about the security and safety of everyone aboard the Shield.”

April must have mentioned the gist of what I wanted to talk to him about, because Royal rubs his brow like he’s warding off a headache. He pulls up a spare rolling chair and sits with us. “Alright, start from the beginning.”

Already I begin fiddling my fingers as I try to find the right words. “Well, you see, sir… I think I overheard a plan to take over the Shield. They intend to form a counter-strike against the Culicidae. I – I don’t have any details, or evidence, but if you’ll hear me out –”

The captain raises a hand, cutting me off as his eyes grow hard. “Now what you mean, exactly? Are you really trying to tell me that someone wants to take over the ship? Like a mutiny in old pirate movies?”

I nod. “Basically.”

Royal leans back, his beefy arms crossing over his big stomach. “You do realize you were just playing a video game that’s set in a fantasy world with wizards and swords and shields, right?”

Already, his message is coming across loud and clear. I’m not convincing him. It’s a sad coincidence that Libertas is fantasy, and this ship is called the Shield. How do I make him believe me? “I—I do, sir, but I really think they were referring to the Shield as in this ship. In the game, I heard—through a closed door—two people saying, quote, if we hold the keys to the shield, the captain will have to relinquish his powers. We’ll force him to turn the Shield around and take us to the other ships. We’ll re-unite and go from there, unquote. Or something like that.”

The captain lifts his hand and scratches under his chin as he thinks. “Even if it is true, what evidence do you have? Do you know who said it? Besides, the Shield doesn’t have keys. It’s a rocket ship for crying out loud.”

His words hit me like a sucker punch, because I’m barely able to hold in my groan. I should have known after my discussion with the River Raiders that this wouldn’t do any good without without any solid, concrete evidence. I shake my head. “No, I tried to peek in the door but I couldn’t see anything in time. These three goons attacked me and knocked me out with a spell.”

The captain rolls his eyes, clearly done considering the possibility. He grunts as he pushes himself to his feet. He says, “I don’t know what to say, Aiden. You’ve brought me a rumor without a single lead. I can’t do anything with this information, so you’ll have to either find out who said it or catch them yourself. Shit, maybe-”

“Royal!” April interjects. “Language!”

He begins to blush under the doctor’s scornful eye. “I-I mean ‘shoot’, maybe you misheard your overhearing, huh? You said there was a door between you and the other people talking. There’s a chance, isn’t there?”

“No, I swear I heard-”

He raises his eyebrows and leans in slightly. “Maybe you overheard wrong. Until you have solid evidence, or a place for my men to begin searching, I’m sorry. I can’t do anything. Besides, who would do something so idiotic?” He laughs. “They’d be risking everyone’s lives and have nothing to gain for it.”

I can’t even argue with Captain Royal. He’s right. All he thinks I’ve fed him is a rumor about a shield in a fantasy world. At the bare minimum I need to know who said it for Royal to be able to do anything about it.

“If you will excuse me,” he says, “I have a ship to manage while everyone else’s heads are in the clouds.” He says it almost contemptuously or enviously, then turns away, and for a second I think about disagreeing, but he’s out of the door and into the hallway too fast. The more time I spend in Libertas, the more it feels like the real world. Or at least the more I wish it was.