“How did this psycho bitch ever make the crew? What about the psych screens?” Carl was understandably upset when he found out about Johns. We all were. We were sitting in his quarters: me, Julia, and of course Carl; trying to determine our options before things got out of hand.
“Despite what the public was told, not everyone on this boat is cream of the crop,” Julia answered, looking at me nervously. “Her mother is on the Martian Council. I heard from a guy on two that Johns got into some trouble a while back; Mommy must have seen the colony ship as a way to offload her troubled offspring.”
“Well thank you Mother Johns. Julia, can you get any surveillance cameras? Small ones we can install in our quarters; try to catch them in the act?” It was the only idea I had.
“I can, but do you really think Johns is that dumb?”
“Probably not; she’s psycho, but not dumb. Still, it won’t hurt to know for sure.” Carl replied. “How many friends do you think she has working with her?”
“Well we know of at least two, but if mommy has connections, daughter my attract some political wanna bees, so we can’t be sure.”
We discussed simply reporting the threats to her superiors, but we weren’t exactly on the Colonial Security most trusted list. True to her word, Johns had already reported the Messa Mesa to the health inspector, and Lisa had to come in over the weekend for the inspection. She was not happy. I dare not tell her there could be more trouble down the road. Julia’s technical team was called in for an impromptu security audit, and Carl was questioned about reports of contraband spirits on level four.
Just two months into an eighteen month trip, and I’d already managed to get myself beaten, broke, and on the wrong side of a bully. Dad would be so proud.
