Ship of the Damned by James F. David

comfortable with. She wore her brown hair in pigtails and was missing two front teeth, giving her the classic seven-year-old smile. Still, her eyes were dark hollows, telling of her severe sleep disturbance. She sat on the edge of her sofa wearing shorts and a pink tee-shirt with two white rabbits on the front, hands in her lap. Her mother, Shirley Andrews, sat next to Anita. She was a larger version of the daughter, sharing her clear skin, fine facial features, and long, thin arms and legs. Anita’s mother watched Wes, feeling that his coming represented new hope. He felt as if he was raising her hopes under false pretenses.
    “Do you like rabbits?” Elizabeth asked.
    Nodding her head yes, Anita said, “Bunnies are the softest animal in the whole world and when I get better I’m gonna get one.” Then the little girl looked to her mother, who confirmed the promised rabbit with a nod. “I’ve got bunny hair things, too,” she said, turning her head so they could see her pigtails held with bands that wrapped around pink bunnies. “I’ve got bunny earrings, too, but I can’t get my ears pierced until I’m twelve.”
    “Very sensible,” Elizabeth said.
    “I can only get one hole in each ear, too,” Anita said.
    “I see,” Elizabeth said.
    “My friend Keri has her ears pierced.”
    “Does she have bunny earrings?” Elizabeth asked.
    “No. Just little gold balls.”
    “I’m wearing hoops,” Elizabeth said, leaning forward and showing Anita her earrings.
    “I think I’m wearing roses,” Monica said. “I can’t remember, though. What are they?” she asked, leaning forward so Anita could see.
    “Ooh, little flowers. I like those,” Anita said, “but I like bunnies better.”
    Wes sat quietly through the small talk, waiting for Elizabeth and Monica to establish a relationship with the little girl. He knew it was the right approach, but disliked the inefficiency. If he had come alone he would have asked about the dream immediately, and probably frightened the little girl into silence. He had always been all business—efficient and machinelike, generating publications and pulling in grants, always on the cutting edge of neuroscience. Totally left brain, logic and rationality, his interpersonal skills were woefully undeveloped; that made him and Elizabeth an odd couple. The feelings of others were of utmost importance to her, and if a person was comforted or a friend made, it didn’t matter to her if a technical problem went unsolved. In this case, however, helping Anita meant solving a technical problem, and Wes and Elizabeth needed each other. Finally Wes heard them bringing the earring conversation to a close.
    “Tell us about the dream,” Monica said.
    “I’m on a boat and I can’t get off. I just walk up and down, down and up, up and down. Then I wake up.”
    “When you’re on the deck of the ship—you know, outside—what do you see when you look up?” Monica asked.
    “Great big cannons,” Anita said.
    “Above those, way up in the sky?” Monica said.
    Anita turned her head up and closed her eyes.
    “Nothing. I don’t see nothing.”
    “What do you see when you look over the side of the ship?” Monica asked.
    “Nothing,” Anita said. “Just sand.”
    “Is there anyone else on the ship?” Monica asked.
    “No. Just me.”
    “Are there airplanes on this ship?” Elizabeth asked, glancing at Wes.
    “Yes, two of them. It’s the kind that has two wings. I forget the name.”
    “Biplanes?” Elizabeth suggested, flashing Wes a triumphant smile.
    The fact that Anita had seen the airplanes solidified Monica and Elizabeth’s
claim that Margi, Wanda, and Anita were dreaming the same dream; but the peculiarity of finding airplanes on a battleship was yet to be explained, and the fact that they were biplanes was yet another oddity.
    “I guess so,” Anita said.
    “Is there a mirror on the ship?” Elizabeth asked.
    Anita paused, looking at her hands in her lap. Then she reached for