The Light Years

Home > Other > The Light Years > Page 18
The Light Years Page 18

by R. W. W. Greene


  “I need to warn my mother,” I said.

  “You’re the one who spent the last ten years in an ivory tower, sweetie. Your mom struck me as someone who knows exactly what’s going on. That’s why she got you out.” Lucy picked up the tray. “I’m headed to the bridge. I’ll see you at Terry’s tonight.”

  Talking with Lucy gave me mixed feelings. On the one hand, I wasn’t on the Hajj just to play house with Adem the Lonely Spaceman, which was nice to know. If anything, my relationship with Adem seemed to be pretty low on everyone’s agenda. Plus, they had something practical for me to do with my education, which I had never expected would happen. Still, I wasn’t happy about being so casually manipulated. Every year of my life had Maneera Sadiq’s thumbprint on it.

  I finished my breakfast and linked my reader with the ship’s nearsmart. It responded with a day-long guided tour of the ship’s emergency systems, from the quick-close bulkheads to the fire-suppression protocols to the escape pods. The pods were basically fast-freeze capsules with heavy-duty transmitters mounted on them: fifteen percent chance of instant death, nearly zero percent chance of rescue. Use them and I’d likely float frozen forever… dead or alive. The last stop on the tour was the emergency pressure-suit locker outside the bridge. The helmets hung on the simple suits like broken dandiflowers. The nearsmart listed all the conditions that might force everyone to troop to a locker and don one of the things.

  “This concludes the tour,” it said. “Are you ready for your quiz, or would you prefer to review?”

  My stomach growled. The meal bar I had looted out of one of the emergency lockers hadn’t held me long. “I’ll do the quiz tomorrow.”

  “Very well.” The tinny voice made a good try at sounding disappointed. “At any time you can retake the tour during your off-duty hours.”

  “I think that might make me insane.” I smothered a yawn. “I need dinner and drinks, and not necessarily in that order.”

  “Do you need directions to the cafeteria?”

  “That’s a good start.”

  When I returned to the cafeteria, Vee caught my attention and waved me to her table. She sent the towheaded man sitting next to her to the food line for me and introduced a lot of young, horny, over-educated people with in-jokes that would take me months to get. I did my best to smile at the right spots.

  “And this is Mateo,” Vee said, introducing the man who had just come back with a tray of food for me.

  “I didn’t know what you would want, so I got everything,” Mateo said. “We can help you with it.”

  “She won’t want these. I can tell.” A prematurely balding man named Tobey reached across the table and grabbed a handful of protein strips to replace those he had just finished.

  “You and Mateo will be working together.” Vee smiled at him. “Sako is going to be on your team for a couple of weeks. You need to show her around and keep Rakin from molesting her.”

  “She might be safe,” Tobey said. “She’s family.”

  “You can’t tell with that goat. He starts thinking his money’s impressive enough that no one can see his outer ugly.”

  “Ship’s rules are pretty strict about things like that,” said a woman whose name I had already forgotten. “Tell him plain, and the captain will have his ass if he asks again. We haven’t used the brig in a while.”

  Mateo laughed. “Since the last time Tobey was in it. He drank four of Dooley’s experimental cocktails and ended up streaking on the ship. His last stop was the bridge. I have a recording of the dance he did for the captain if you’d like to see it.”

  Tobey’s balding pate turned rosy red along with the rest of his face.

  “Maybe later.” I held up my hands. “Are all of you going to Terry’s tonight?”

  “It’s either that or study.”

  “Or play stims. I got a couple of new ones on Gaul. Some of them look pretty good,” Mateo added.

  “Did you get the one about the Nov Tero cartels? We could ask Rakin for advice,” Tobey asked.

  “Not a good idea from what I’ve heard,” Vee said. “He had to borrow money from a shark to buy his way back onto the ship.”

  “What did the shark get out of it?” I said.

  “Same thing we all get.” Tobey went on when I didn’t nod. “Money. I didn’t spend six years in school to live out my golden years in La Merde.”

  “Are you from Gaul?” I said.

  “Nah. Freedom.”

  “There are different names for it, but there’s a refugee town of some kind on all the successful planets,” Vee said. “Life can’t have winners without losers.”

  “And the Traders keep moving above it all.” Lucy walked by and snagged a cookie off Vee’s tray. “And we don’t look back because back was a long, long time ago. You guys ready to head for Terry’s? It’s a good idea to get a couple of drinks in before Adem and Dooley go on.”

  “Are they that bad?” I said.

  “No. But a few drinks make everything better. I need more cookies. I’ll see you losers there.”

  Vee plucked at the sleeve of my coverall. “Are you going to wear this? It’s not a problem if you do. A lot of us are going in work clothes. I just figured…”

  “That I might want to pretty up for my husband? I probably should.” The sigh came out on its own.

  “Why bother?” Tobey said. “Adem’ll be coming right from work, so he won’t change. Besides, you can get to Terry’s early and get the best seats.”

  “Will they really be the best? Remember, I’ve been there.”

  “No, but we can pretend.” Vladlena tugged my sleeve. “Let’s go. We can drop by your cabin on the way. The boys will clean the table.”

  “Aren’t they coming?”

  “It’s game night,” Mateo said. “We have a raid. Maybe we’ll be there late.”

  “After Mateo wrecks us with his bad planning,” Tobey said.

  “Let’s go. They’ll be talking like this forever now.” Vladlena gave us our cue to leave.

  “What sort of games do they play?” I said.

  “Anything. Mateo picked up a new civil war-rebellion thing on Gaul. My guild plays Thursday nights. I’ll send you an invitation.”

  Vee didn’t need directions to my suite, of course.

  “Are you okay with me?” I said. “About Adem?”

  “I won’t lie. I liked him. But things are different up here. You didn’t ask to be married to him. He didn’t ask to marry you. There is no reason to resent either of you for it. There are no lies. No secrets. Besides, Adem isn’t the only lonely Trader on this boat. So, yeah, we’re okay.” She linked her arm in mine. “More than. I like you, too.”

  I tried to concentrate on counting the turns and levels between Adem’s quarters and the spine. Vladlena stopped at a door that looked like all the other doors in the corridor. “There you go. If it helps, you can paint it a different color from the other ones. Or you can just count. It’s the seventh door on this side of the hallway.”

  “I’ll count. It’s still Adem’s quarters.”

  “Oh, he won’t mind. Go ahead and paint it something obnoxious. Get Tobey to paint you a mural. He did my door. It’s pretty good. I’ll show you sometime.”

  I put my hand over the doorplate. “Do you want to come in?”

  “Do you want privacy to change?”

  “I might just grab a sweater.”

  “The less you wear in Terry’s the better. It gets hot near the engine room.”

  “Maybe I’ll put on a clean t-shirt then.”

  Vladlena followed me inside and sat on the bed. “When did Adem move out?”

  “This morning. I didn’t give him much notice. I haven’t seen him since.”

  “He’ll be fine.” She looked at the guitars hanging on the walls. “He took the Martin.”

  “What’s so special about the Martin?”

  “Made on Earth. One of the wake crew brought it along. Change. We have drinking to do.”

  I open
ed the closet door. “I haven’t unpacked yet. This might take a minute.” I slid open a drawer marked “fun wear” and pulled out one of my old Sandcats t-shirts. I unzipped my coveralls and tied the arms around my waist while I pulled on the t-shirt. I couldn’t tell if Vladlena was watching me or not. I’d hooked up with women before and enjoyed it enough to do it again, and Vladlena seemed like someone who could keep it light. But, I reminded myself, I was married now and things were different. I pulled the coverall top back up but left it unzipped.

  “Cute T-shirt,” Vee said.

  “It’s from a band I was in.”

  “You should play something tonight. They open the mic between sets.”

  “I’m really rusty. It would sound terrible.” We were back out in the hallway, and I waited for Vee to pick a direction. I knew we were close, but I couldn’t remember if we headed up or down, left or right.

  “You haven’t heard Dooley, yet.” She kissed me on the cheek.

  We arrived fashionably late. Adem and his father were into their first set when we walked in. We had reserved seats right in front of the stage. They played a few more songs then Dooley waved to me. “Come on up and play something, darlin’!” He was laying the accent on thick. I tried to beg off, but he kept at it. I gave up when Vee started in, too.

  Adem offered me his guitar. “Nice shirt. Did you ever hear them play?”

  “I started the band.”

  Adem opened his mouth to say something, but Dooley cut him off by shoving a mandolin into his hand.

  Dooley was all smiles. “I’ll stick with the pipes. Something tells me we’re going to have to run to keep up.”

  “It’s been such a long time since I played!”

  “Just remember that the sound comes out of the hole in the front,” Dooley said.

  I gave them the key and the time signature for one of the first song I’d ever heard Adem play. It was a dark tune about a man who’d let himself be hanged to death rather than admit he was fucking his best friend’s wife. Adem’s performance had been fine – sad and lovelorn – but there was more to find in the song. There was anger in there, or should be, because the woman hadn’t stepped up and said something to keep her lover alive. He’d died to save her reputation, and she’d let him do it. Did that mean she didn’t love him? That she loved herself more? I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t think the hanged man would know, either. And what did her husband think every time she put on her black veil and hung out in the cemetery?

  The Martin felt good in my hands, although the fret board and neck were wider than the electrics I played, and though it wasn’t my strength, I sang, too. I tried to put that feeling of anger and doubt into my voice and fingers while Adem and his father kept up the rhythm and filled in behind me. Finding the emotions wasn’t hard. It was the same mix I’d been feeling since I first learned I was in an arranged marriage.

  The crowd in the bar fell silent as the last notes of the song died away. I wondered if I had done something wrong, ruined their favorite song or maybe played the whole thing with my underwear showing. The urge to check faded when the applause began. The clapping started in the center and spread through the small space.

  I handed the guitar back to Adem and fled back to my seat.

  “That was amazing! Adem’s mouth is still hanging open. You can really play!” Vee was shaking me.

  I gulped my drink too fast and started coughing

  “I’m glad you were all here to listen to that. It might be the first time that guitar has ever been played.” Dooley on stage, upstaging his son. My husband.

  Half the audience got the joke and treated the other half to the punch line. The look on Adem’s face told me he didn’t find it overly funny.

  Dooley reclaimed the mandolin. “Here’s one from my two favorite Irishmen…” He and Adem started playing a Beatles song that I remembered hearing among the Spaceman recordings. It was a pretty song, but not the best for Adem’s voice.

  The crowd resumed its chatter, letting Adem and Dooley fill in the background of their conversations.

  Mateo slid into the seat beside me. “That was fucking amazing!”

  “You’re here early?” Vee said.

  “We lost a lot of ground and most of our gear to Jackie and her guild. They’ll be here once they finish patting themselves on the back.”

  Vee looked smug. “Trained her myself.”

  “Where did you learn to play like that?” Mateo said.

  “Started taking lessons when I was a kid. I play seven instruments. Seven and a half if you count the saxophone. I was in a couple of bands.”

  “Played that old guitar better than Adem ever did.”

  “I’m alright on guitar, but I’m better on violin and cello. When I get settled, I’ll give you a real show.”

  Vee nodded toward the stage. “Looks like the Spaceman was a little staggered by having competition. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you sat down.”

  I looked up, catching Adem’s eyes. He looked directly at me, then purposefully looked at another part of the audience.

  “He’s either dazzled…” Vee said.

  “Or he hates me for showing him up.” I kicked myself for not holding back some. Men’s egos could be so damned fragile. “It’s his fault. The lessons were part of my contract.”

  “He gets what he deserves then. Let me get the next round to celebrate.”

  Adem and his father took a break after an hour or so and invited anyone else who wanted to play up to the stage. Adem didn’t offer the Martin to anyone else. Only one of the ad hoc groups showed any promise. They played a couple of songs and sat down to solid applause. Everyone else got a round of polite kudos from anyone sober enough to listen through the sets. Adem and Dooley finished off the night with another five-song set and one encore, and Dooley announced last call.

  “We can get some drinks to go to my cabin for a while,” Vee said.

  “I’m kind of tired after chasing around the ship all day, and I have my first shift in engineering tomorrow.” I faked a yawn. “Got to make a good first impression.”

  “Understood. I keep forgetting you haven’t been up here long. Do you need a guide back to your quarters?”

  “I think I got it.” And if I didn’t, the nearsmart did. The night was reminding me way too much of many I’d had back in university. Lots of booze, interesting people, no strings attached… They’d been fun, but revisiting them didn’t seem like a good idea in the early days of my marriage. “Have a good time.”

  “With these guys?” She glanced at Mateo and Tobey, who were still arguing about something that happened in-game. “I really doubt it.”

  I waved goodnight and left the bar as if I knew exactly where I was going. I did better than I thought I would have. I only had to ask the nearsmart for help with one turn. When I got to my quarters, the shower cheerfully informed me that I’d used my hot water allocation for the day, so I washed up in the sink and lay down on the bed. The ceiling spun lazily above me to remind me that I’d probably had too much to drink again.

  I had passed out too fast the night before to notice the sounds of the ship. The big engines made their presence known as a feeling more than a sound, but the air and water systems gurgled and sighed behind the walls. I expected to hear creaks and groans from the superstructure as it did battle with the enormous forces our acceleration was creating, but the mass-grav systems kept everything quiet.

  The bed was soft, and I stretched out trying not to think about how far away I was from home and how much time had gone by there. A week? A month? There were plenty of times I hadn’t talked to my mother for that long. The record was five months after I’d moved out of the undergraduate dorms to live with a zoologist I’d met in a campus bar. She had rarely been home, and I held up my end of the relationship mostly by tending to her menagerie of pets and specimens. She’d been the one to tell me about the breathing problems of captive sandcats. Poor Nibbles. Months nearly suffocating with a little kid
pawing at him and then a messy end.

  The door intercom crackled. “It’s me,” the voice said. “It’s Adem.”

  ADEM

  Adem kept his thumb on the intercom button. “Got a minute?”

  Adem had nearly fallen over when Hisako told him she was the founder of the Sandcats. Now he was fighting the urge to gush like a fanboy. Seconds ticked by before the door slid open. He presented a jar of clear liquid. “Drink? I made it myself.”

  Hisako stepped back into the suite. “How can I refuse that? I’m sure there are glasses in here somewhere.”

  Adem nodded toward a wall cabinet. “In there. Top shelf.” He held the Martin out to her. “Thought you might give me a lesson.”

  She blushed. “I’m sorry about–”

  Adem interrupted, “You were amazing. I downloaded all the Sandcats’ recordings when we interfaced with Gaul’s worldnet. I had no idea you were–”

  “I left the band before it got big.”

  “I know, but they were better before they got their patron.” Adem leaned the guitar against the wall and opened the cabinet to get two glasses. He filled a small glass halfway with his engine room hooch and handed it to Hisako. “This is pretty potent, but it doesn’t have any of Dooley’s hangover additives.”

  “Does he really lace the drinks?”

  “He never answers that question directly, but probably. If you’re careful, it’s not so bad. If not, you’ll have a terrible next day.”

  “I learned that this morning.”

  “Lucy told me about that. She figured you were out long enough to score about a seven on the hangover scale. You don’t want a ten.”

  “I never want that.”

  “Not twice. Should we toast or something?”

  He was thinking a toast to their future, something that suggested she would one day adapt to the idea she was married and now lived on a spaceship.

  She held up her glass. “To good music.”

  Fair enough. He could drink to that and did. The moonshine was cold and smooth. Hisako coughed. “It’s very fresh.”

  “It will make you blink, but you won’t go blind.” Adem sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re a better player than I am. I’ve been doing that song for years and never made it sound that good.”

 

‹ Prev