“My dad.“

 

“Your dad? Captain Tembo, I don’t think you understood the question. I asked you if you had religion.”

 

“Yes, I understood,” Captain Tembo’s face was flat with exhaustion. She stared vacantly at the table.

 

“Then please explain, Captain,” the interrogator prodded.

 

“My father. He was a pastor on earth. In Iowa. He didn’t have his own church but assisted other pastors when they were away on vacation. Any denomination really. He was an excellent public speaker and was able to link life with religion.” The captain’s voice trailed off into silence.

 

“Go on, Captain. I don’t understand.”

 

Captain Tembo blinked purposefully and continued. “I went with him. Sometimes he needed to just drive a few blocks, but often he needed to drive long distances. I think he enjoyed my company. But every time I was in a church it was my father who was leading it. He was my religion.”

 

“So you believe in God.” The interrogator concluded.

 

“I believe in my father.”

 

“Your father is not a religion!” the interrogator blurted out with apparent frustration. The small crowd that was assembled fidgeted uncomfortably.

 

The interrogator’s tone seemed to snap Captain Tembo out of her stupor. Her face tensed and she straightened in her chair. “I am a captain, interrogator, and you will address me as such. My words are the words of the United Council and you must receive them and document them as such. I fully understand my roles and responsibility to this council and have taken the sacred oath with the intention of complying with your requests.”

 

The public immediately relaxed. This was the Captain Tembo they knew and respected. She was the only black, female officer to achieve captaincy in less than five years and with two distinguished honor medals bestowed to her. Her race and gender had been consistent barriers to her ascension, so she was accustomed to defending and advocating for herself at every turn. The force of her command was legendary.

 

The interrogator nodded solemnly and scratched his temple. “Captain Tembo, I apologize for the length of this testimony. However, I feel we have advanced little. Let me summarize your account thus far and please correct any aberrations.”

 

The interrogator held his slate up and read in a monotone. “Captain Tembo was given the honor of commanding the U.C. Shackleton. The mission was to deliver the military cargo to Sector 42 of the Wemble quadrant to assist in resolving the Meiller conflict.”

 

The assembled council members knew that the interrogator was being judicious with his words. They knew that within two minutes of the arrival of the warheads that the rebellion would have been quelched and the conflict ended.

 

“However,” the interrogator continued, “before arriving at the destination, Captain Tembo released the valuable cargo into space. Without authorization and without reason. Captain Tembo verifies this act. She noted feeling a sense of warmth in her body and a sudden clarity.” The interrogator paused to emphasize this last phrase. Although he kept his monotone, everyone sensed the subtle mockery in his delivery.

 

“Captain Tembo reports that no one told her to release the cargo. Her logged vitals register no intoxicants. She reports that she is not aligned with the rebellion on Aris 47. And, really, she can give no explanations for her act except for the warm clarity. Yet she stands behind her actions and asserts that it was the correct course.”

 

The interrogator paused again and looked around at the council and the public as if searching to verify if he was the only sane person in the room. None of this made sense. He turned back to the captain. “Is there anything more to add?” he asked with finality.

 

“Where is the dropped cargo? The warheads?” Captain Tembo demanded slowly through gritted teeth.

 

“That’s irrelevant to this council,” the interrogator dismissed quickly. “And classified!” he added quickly when he noted the public leaning forward in anticipation of a response.

 

“I’ve heard enough,” the Council Master stated firmly. His deep voice shook the hall like thunder. “Captain Tembo you are relieved of duty. Your actions are steeped in spiritual nonsense which undermine the integrity of the United Council and our code. They also punctuate with disgrace what was both a promising and admirable career. Due to the severity of your actions, there is no place for you within the U.C. You will be escorted to a transport back to Earth immediately.”

 

Captain Tembo stood slowly. Her eyes were shards of ice, and her posture was a solid stone wall. Her poise commanded attention and respect. The public was simultaneously in awe of her greatness yet mystified by her sudden decline.

 

“I accept the Council Master’s decision,” she said with determined resignation. Two guards escorted her from the hall. The public quickly dispersed as if to release the pent-up tension from the proceedings. Only the United Council members remained.

 

“What did happen to the warheads?” one member asked tentatively.

 

The Council Master peered around the room to make sure they were alone. With a heavy sigh, he spoke, “They disappeared.”

 

“What does that mean?” attempted another member. “Lost in space?”

 

“No,” the Council Master responded. “They disappeared. They were removed from existence. They vanished. They disintegrated.” He held his head in his hands as if in great pain.

 

The interrogator continued for him. “Reports detail that as the warheads left the cargo bay, they dissolved into nothingness. No chemical or physical trace was detected within the vicinity. No remnants of radiation. Once they were liberated from the secure lock of the ship they essentially slipped into a void. No technology could have evacuated them so quickly and without a trace.”

 

“How is that possible then?” another member asked.

 

“It’s not,” the Council Master said solemnly. “It’s not.”