Lee Shores

by Rachel Ford

  Lee Shores

  Black Flag, Book 2

  By Rachel Ford

  Chapter One

  “Well,” Frank said, “how much longer is this going to take? I’m starved.”

  Dave scoffed at the Kudarian, whose appetite was something of a legend on the Black Flag. “You’re always starved.”

  Shrugging his massive shoulders, Frank nodded. “Maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still starving now.”

  I laughed. “Hold on. Syd will be done soon.”

  “Not soon enough,” he sighed.

  This was Sydney’s debut in the kitchen, and I think we were all excited to see how it went. The battle bot-turned-domestic-robot had picked kitchen duty as one of several areas where he could contribute to ship efficiency. In my observations, Katherine, he’d told me, the galley is the source of eighty-three-point-three percent of all crew complaints. Food being a central component of both the cultural and gastronomic needs of most sentient races, I believe addressing this failure would contribute to the well-being and morale of the Black Flag, eliminating as much as seventy-five percent of crew discontent.

  I couldn’t argue with either his premise or his conclusion. Still, we’d phrased it somewhat more delicately when we proposed the idea to Dave, the ship’s less than stellar cook. It’d be nice for you to have a break now and then, wouldn’t it?

  Now, he was twiddling his thumbs, staring at Frank suspiciously. “I don’t even see why you’re so excited,” he said. “Everyone knows robots can’t cook.”

  “This is the most important meal of the day,” the Kudarian contradicted.

  Dave frowned. “Lunch?”

  Frank’s eyes twinkled. “One you’re not cooking.”

  “Frank,” Maggie warned, “be nice…” Magdalene Landon was captain of the Black Flag, and it would be her mess to deal with if Sydney’s foray into the kitchen caused problems between crew members. More importantly, though, she was my girlfriend – and so, dutifully, I wiped the smile off my own face. If she didn’t want us teasing Dave, well, I wouldn’t tease him. However tempted I might be.

  Frank flashed a grin, exposing a mouthful of razor-sharp fangs. Once upon a time, those Kudarian teeth would have terrified me. By now, though, they were a familiar sight, and I barely noticed them. “Yes ma’am.”

  “It’s alright, Captain,” Dave declared, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m actually looking forward to this. Knowing that robot, he’s probably going to roll out some kind of reconstituted protein paste chosen for its ‘optimal delivery of necessary nutrients.’”

  I had to admit, he did a pretty good imitation of Sydney’s voice. And it did sound like something Syd might say.

  “It still can’t taste worse than breakfast this morning,” Fredricks put in. Dr. Fredricks was the Black Flag’s medic. “And I doubt anyone will wind up in sickbay because of it. Unlike that fish casserole the other week.”

  “That was months ago,” Dave sniffed. “And it wasn’t my fault the meat was tainted. That’s on the supplier. Anyway, the only thing you’re all going to be eating today is crow, when you realize that there are some things a robot just can’t do. And cooking is one of them.”

  “You and the robots,” Frank offered, flashing Maggie an apologetic smile as soon as he’d said it.

  I think she, of all of us, was most relieved when Sydney’s mechanical tones called from the kitchen, “Lunch is served.”

  Dave was first in line, barreling in front of even Frank. The Kudarian flashed me a wry smile and shook his head. “Someone’s eager to check out the competition,” he whispered as Maggie and I neared, “or else he’s tired of his own cooking.”

  Mags raised an eyebrow at him, and I laughed softly. “Come on. Let’s see what Sydney’s got up his sleeves.”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  I shook my head. “He asked if it was an order when I asked what was on the menu. And – I swear – I’ve never heard a robot sound so crestfallen when he said it. Of course, I let him keep his secrets.”

  Frank sniffed the air. “Well, it sure smells good.”

  I considered the aromas wafting out from the kitchen, and whistled. “Damn. It does.” There was the scent of spices I hadn’t tasted since I’d stepped foot on the Black Flag. And – was that citrus? I inhaled deeply, edging forward to get a peek at the line. We’d been crowded further back, though, and I could see nothing more than a few heavy serving pots – and a lot of the crews’ backs.

  Dave lingered in line for a long time, to the chagrin of all of us. My stomach was growling as our turn finally came, and I stared openmouthed at the spread Sydney had prepared. There were grilled chicken breasts, grilled and seasoned vegetables, and a savory reddish orange cream soup. At the end of the line was a selection of lemon and orange cakes.

  Frank loaded a tray full of plates, all overflowing, and took a bite of one of the cakes. “Oh my god. Will you marry me, Sydney?”

  “Though I am flattered, I’m afraid I must decline, Mister Frank. Marriage is beyond the purview of my algorithms.”

  Leaving Frank to explain to the apologetic robot that he wasn’t actually proposing marriage, I headed back to the table with Maggie. “Oh my God,” I said, “this is terrible.”

  “Terrible?” She seemed surprised. “It all looks amazing.”

  “I know. That’s what’s terrible. I’m going to gain a thousand pounds.”

  The general consensus was that Sydney had knocked it out of the park – an analogy that required an explanation, but which, once explained, pleased the robot exceedingly.

  Of all of us, only Dave disagreed. “Cheap showmanship,” he declared. “You can’t sustain a diet like this in space. It’s not a fair comparison. We don’t make shopping runs every other day. You made that special for him, Captain, but you know damned well we don’t do that – we can’t do that, even if we wanted to, because there’s not that many planets along the way.

  “We don’t get fresh vegetables for every meal. And when the hell is the last time we had fresh oranges on this ship? Let him work with the reconstituted garbage I have to deal with day in and day out, and then tell me he’s a better cook.”

  Maggie did her best to placate the cook, assuring him that this was just a test to prove that Sydney was capable in the kitchen – and, having passed the test, he could now fill in as needed. It didn’t do much, but Dave gave up arguing to help himself to another piece of cake and cup of coffee.

  In this, he was joined by Frank, though the Kudarian didn’t limit himself to a single piece. He seemed to have self-assigned himself cleanup. Asking if anyone wanted another piece, and receiving our protests that we couldn’t possibly eat another morsel, he loaded a tray with the leftovers and proceeded to work his way through them.

  It was a study in gluttony, and I think we all watched as much out of morbid fascination as the fact that we were too full to move.

  “I feel I must advise you, Mister Frank,” Sydney put in, trundling back into the mess hall on his wide tracks, “that your enthusiasm outpaces discretion.”

  “Hmm?” he asked through a mouthful of cake.

  “You have already surpassed the daily caloric intake for a healthy Kudarian male of your age and activity levels.”

  “In other words, you’re eating like a pig,” Dave translated.

  It was now that Maggie’s comm device buzzed. “Landon here,” she said, pressing a button to connect the call.

  “Captain, it’s Ginny.” Ginny was one of the engine techs who worked with me, but today she’d grabbed the lunch shift. She’d filled a plate, and returned to the bridge with it. “We’re getting an urgent communique from Kudar.”

  The ridges on Frank’s nose and forehead deepened into a frown. “Kudar?�
�� That was the home planet of his people.

  “The Black Flag is?” Maggie wondered.

  “Yes. They’re looking for a…” She trailed off, and when she spoke again, there was uncertainty in her voice. “A F’er ark inkaya. I know I mispronounced that. Anyway, that’s Frank, right?”

  He and Maggie nodded at the same time. F’er ark inkaya was his Kudarian name, but for the sake of his human companions, he’d chosen the truncated appellation, Frank. “It is,” she said.

  “It’s a personal communication, marked urgent. They want visual confirmation that he got it.”

  “Tell them he’s on his way. You can use my ready room, Frank.”

  He stood. “Thanks, Captain.” He moved to leave, paused long enough to grab a piece of cake, and then left at a quick trot.

  “What do you think that’s about?” Dave wondered.

  I shook my head. “No idea.”

  “Perhaps one of Mister Frank’s family is unwell,” Sydney posited. “Or perhaps there has been a death in the family. According to my cultural references database, Kudarian custom demands a monthlong feast to honor the dead.”

  “Perhaps it has nothing to do with harm to Frank’s family,” Maggie said, a frown creasing her brow.

  “Of course, Captain. Other possible scenarios include: a declaration of war.”

  “What?” Dave said, as shocked, I think, as we all were.

  “By Kudarian law,” the robot explained, “all males of military age are required to return to the home planet in a time of war.”

  “You’ve got to have a possibility that doesn’t involve death,” Maggie sighed. “Don’t you?”

  “Of course. With no further details, I can posit at least five. Kudarian males are expected to be present for the birth of their children,” Syd offered.

  David scoffed. “Even less likely. That would require someone wanting to mate with Frank.”

  “Alright, alright,” Maggie interrupted. “Let’s just stop guessing, and wait until he gets back.”

  “And in the meantime,” the cook decided. “I’m going to have another one of these. He doesn’t need all that cake.” So saying, he helped himself to one of the slices on Frank’s plate.

  I groaned, my eyes drawn to a moist slice covered in thick lemony icing. “Me too,” I decided.

  Maggie grinned. “Well, I guess I’ll help out too. After all, we don’t want Frank getting fat.”

  “I don’t believe that is the optimal solution,” Sydney offered, “as everyone present has already consumed more than their required midday caloric needs. In fact-”

  “Oh shut up,” David snapped. “I’m going to eat the damned cake.”

  Kereli, meanwhile, the ship’s navigator, slipped into Fredricks’ seat. He’d gone after Ginny, shortly after wrapping up eating, and the seat had remained empty since. Now, she eyed the cake hungrily. “Can I take another piece too?”

  “Of course,” Dave answered, and the Esselian bobbed her coppery-green head and helped herself. Frank’s plate was looking awfully lean by now.

  “I shouldn’t have another one,” she said. “I certainly don’t need it. But dammit if this isn’t worth the calories.”

  We’d just about finished our pilfered sweets when the door slid open and Frank stepped in, a worried crease running across his forehead.

  “Well,” David said, his tones low, “I guess it must be war. Because that’s not the expression of a man discovering the joys of fatherhood.”

  “Unless,” Kereli murmured, “it’s unexpected.”

  “Guys,” I hissed, “enough.”

  If Frank heard us, though, he made no sign of it. He returned to his seat, plopping down heavily. “Well,” he said, “I’ve been summoned home.”

  “New baby?” Kereli wondered, the faintest hint of a twinkle in her violet eyes.

  At the same time, Dave put in, “Did a war break out?”

  The Kudarian blinked at the questions. “What?”

  “Never mind,” Maggie said. “What’s going on?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s the weird part. They said it’s urgent, and I have to be back within two weeks…but he didn’t say why.”

  “Who was it?”

  “My family’s priest.”

  “A priest? Is everything…alright?” I ventured.

  He glanced up at me now, and when his eyes caught my gaze, they were worried. “To be honest…I don’t know, Kay. I hope so, but…well, I know my father was sick a lot last winter.”

  “Hell,” I said. “You don’t think…?”

  He shook his head again. “I don’t know. But Captain, I’m going to need time off.”

  “Of course, Frank. As much as you need.”

  Chapter Two

  The summons came at a good time, or as good a time as such a thing could be expected. We’d just wrapped up our delivery run, which meant we could divert course and Frank wouldn’t need to take a shuttle back to Kudar. It also meant that we were back in range of the Kudarian home planet, so he’d make the two-week deadline.

  For a while, Frank was quiet and pensive as he considered the possible reasons he’d been called home. But then his usual good cheer took over, and he declared that he’d find out soon enough. “And worrying won’t change it. Whatever it is.”

  “So are we getting R-and-R time too?” Dave asked. We were in Maggie’s ready room, and she’d just made the announcement that Frank would be leaving us for a bit.

  “What?”

  “Well, Captain, you’re giving Frank time off. How about the rest of us?”

  “We probably shouldn’t be flying without our helmsman,” Corano put in. Corano was the ship’s tactical officer. “Anyway, I wouldn’t mind heading back home for a bit myself.”

  Maggie sighed. “Fine, fine. We can’t do much with missing people, so why don’t we all take some time off?” The Black Flag ran lean, with a barebones crew just big enough to keep her in the air.

  Ginny and Fredricks exchanged smiles. “Sweet,” she said, and he squeezed her hand.

  For my own part, I was excited at the prospect of dragging Maggie off ship. It didn’t much matter where, as long as we were together. Part of me felt terribly guilty for my excitement, considering that we still didn’t know the reason why Frank had been called home. His attempts to contact his mother had been rebuffed. She’d refused his call, instead opting to write back, “Everything is fine. Don’t worry. Just be here. We need to talk.”

  To my ears, that sounded like one of the worst-case scenarios; but Frank had just shrugged. “I’ll find out when I get there.”

  His easy manner pushed some of the guilt away. If he wasn’t worried, I wouldn’t either. Still, I hoped we weren’t celebrating time off that came at the cost of some terrible news for the Kudarian.

  The rest of the crew seemed to have an easier time focusing on the positives. A few whoops of delight filled the ready room, and Dave nodded in a satisfied fashion. “Good. You can leave me off on Trella Prime, Captain. That’s on the way to Kudar.”

  Maggie nodded. “You all figure out where you want to go. Pick somewhere along the way. Get your destinations to me by end of day. We’ll plan on one month off time.” She stood. “I’ve got a few possible clients who I need to update with our new availabilities.”

  She left, now, and we all turned to the topic of where we’d go. “I don’t even care where it is,” I said, “as long as I can convince Mags to leave the ship for a while.”

  “Good luck,” Kereli shook her head.

  I nodded. Knowing Mags, she’d see this as a prime opportunity to run through the maintenance list, or work on upgrades, or one of the million-and-one reasons she had for being a workaholic. “I’ll figure something out,” I determined.

  “How many times have I told you,” Dave opined, “relationships are more trouble than they’re worth.”

  “You know,” Frank put in, “if you guys wanted to, you could come with me.”

  Silence
fell in the room. “What?” the cook wondered.

  “To Kudar. I could sponsor you as guests.”

  “That’s right,” I said, “off-worlders need a sponsor to get onto Kudar, don’t they?”

  He flashed an apologetic grin. “It’s a hold over to our less welcoming days.”

  Dave snorted. “You mean, back when you were eating people?”

  Eating other sentient races had been banned when the planet entered the Union, at the end of the Kudar wars. That was many decades before Frank was born. But it had been a common-enough practice to ingrain a kind of eternal horror in the consciousness of most other races in the Union. “Those,” he grinned, “were our even-less-welcoming days. But, seriously, I’d be willing to sponsor you all if you wanted to see the planet. And the family estate is big enough to put everyone up.”

  “That sounds awesome,” I said.

  At the same time, a dozen excuses sounded all around me.

  “Sorry, Frank,” Ginny said, “but we’ve been talking about meeting each other’s folks.”

  “Yeah,” Fredricks agreed. “This might be the only opportunity we have for a while. We’re going to take it.”

  “I have family back on Alfor I’d like to see,” Corano said.

  “And as for me,” Dave shrugged, “my plans involve being anywhere where I’m not likely to wind up on the menu.”

  Frank shrugged. “Your loss. Kudar is beautiful this time of year.”

  The cook rolled his eyes, muttering that his objection had nothing to do with the season.

  Frank, meanwhile, turned to me. “You’re in, though, Kay?”

  “Hell yeah,” I nodded. “I’ve never been to Kudar.”

  He nodded too, seeming pleased by my enthusiasm. “You’ll like it. And once I find out what the big secret is, I can take you on a tour of the planet. We might even have time to see the moons.”

  Dave rolled his eyes. “That’ll be exciting.”

  One by one, we picked out our destinations. Frank spent most of the afternoon regaling me with stories of his home world, and we planned daytrips that seemed like they’d appeal to Mags.