The Galaxy, and the Ground Within

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The Galaxy, and the Ground Within Page 20

by Becky Chambers


  He didn’t know how long Ouloo and Tupo had been on the periphery of the conversation, but he leapt at the opportunity to end it. ‘And what about you, Ouloo?’ he said loudly, jokingly. ‘What’s your take on the socio-political woes of the Galactic Commons?’

  Ouloo stood on the pathway, holding a tray of her elaborate puddings as though she didn’t know what else to do. ‘I want everybody to get along, and I want to make them dessert,’ she said quietly.

  Roveg began to laugh. ‘An admirable—’

  Ouloo turned her head toward him. ‘No,’ she said, a thread of iron creeping into her voice. ‘I’m not being funny.’ She set the tray down on the grass and stood on all fours, not looking at anyone, not looking sure of herself. ‘I don’t know much about politics, or … or borders, or whatever it is you’re fighting about. And I should know about those things, probably, because I’m sure it’s irresponsible of me to not know how everything works, but … but everything is just so much. I don’t know your histories, not properly. I don’t understand all the – the tiny pieces that keep things moving. But I don’t need to know those things to be able to tell that something isn’t working. That something is wrong.’ She looked up to face Speaker. ‘What happened to your people – what is still happening to them – is wrong. Deeply wrong, and I’m sorry I never thought about it before.’ She looked at Pei. ‘What is happening to your people at the border is wrong. There’s something very wrong there, and nobody should have to live like that. And Roveg – what’s happened to you is wrong. So how do we fix it? How do we fix all of that?’ She turned her eyes to the ground again. ‘I have no idea. None. If a politician came here and said, “Here is my plan for fixing these things, and here is why my plan is best,” I’d probably just believe xyr on the spot. I’d say, yes, that all makes sense, I’m very glad you’re fixing it, what a relief. But then another politician could come in the next day, and xe might say, “Mmm, no, that plan’s bad, here are a lot of complicated reasons as to why,” and then I’d say, hmm, yes, that makes sense, too. And do you know what? I truly don’t care which of them is right so long as it fixes everything. I don’t have an … an ideology. I don’t know the right terms to discuss these things. I don’t know the science behind any of it. I’m sure I sound silly right now. But I just want everyone to get along, and to be well taken care of. That’s it. I want everybody to be happy, and I do not care how we get there.’ She exhaled, her broad nostrils flaring. ‘That’s how I feel about it.’

  Everyone was quiet for a moment – even Tupo, who was hanging off to the side with xyr neck down low.

  ‘I appreciate what you’re saying,’ Pei said tightly. Her eyes flicked to Speaker, then away just as fast. ‘But you can’t fix everything with cake.’ She turned and walked down the path back toward her shuttle.

  Roveg exhaled, the spiracles on his abdomen breathing wide. ‘Well, maybe not everything,’ he said. He moved to Ouloo’s tray, and picked up the most generously sized portion with an appreciative bob of his torso.

  Ouloo looked apologetically at Speaker. ‘I’m so sorry I can’t give you any,’ she said.

  ‘It’s really all right,’ Speaker said. Her polished voice had gone brittle, but was mending. Roveg didn’t know whether to admire composure that recovered that quickly, or to encourage her to yell a bit more. It sounded as though she had needed to.

  ‘Mmm,’ Roveg said, hurrying to swallow a mouthful of delicious fluffy frosting. ‘You can bring some cake to her ship.’

  ‘Oh,’ Ouloo said. Her sagging neck perked up a bit. ‘Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘Yes, we had a delightful breakfast together this morning,’ he said, trying desperately to change the topic and invoke a better mood. Was this the right way to steer the conversation? He had no idea. At this point, he was just talking. ‘I made the food, she put it in her suit, and she hopped on over. Lovely time.’

  Speaker did not perk up as Ouloo had. ‘I really am sorry for the commotion,’ she said, not addressing anyone in particular.

  ‘I do not believe any of that was your fault,’ Roveg said. He took another bite, every bit as delicious as the first. Stars, why did sugar and drinking go so well together?

  ‘I wouldn’t take it too personally,’ Ouloo said to Speaker. ‘I mean, she is—’ Her eyes went wide. ‘Oh, um … you know, she’s stressed, we’re all stressed—’

  Roveg leaned toward Speaker. ‘The good captain is shimmering,’ he said.

  Ouloo’s fur fluffed. ‘I said I wouldn’t say!’

  ‘You didn’t,’ he said. ‘I did.’

  ‘Oh,’ Speaker said. Her tone suggested that she hadn’t known and likewise did not care. ‘I see.’ She paused. ‘Somehow I don’t think that conversation would’ve been any different if she wasn’t.’

  Ouloo swung her neck around her legs, looking this way and that. ‘Did either of you see where Tupo went?’

  They both looked over. Roveg hadn’t seen the younger Laru leave, and Speaker did not seem to have, either. Tupo’s tray of cakes still lay on the ground, but the child xyrself had vanished.

  ‘How very stealthy,’ Roveg said.

  ‘Xe can’t stand people fighting,’ Ouloo said with a sigh. ‘Doesn’t mind fighting with me all day long, but just hates anybody else doing it. Xe’s such a sensitive little thing.’ She huffed. ‘Looks like xe took a couple cakes for xyrself. Stars, I told xyr one was enough. And I don’t know how xe thinks I’m supposed to carry all of this back to the house on my own.’

  ‘Can I help?’ Speaker said.

  ‘Oh,’ Ouloo said, surprised. ‘Um – you know what, if you don’t mind—’

  ‘I don’t,’ Speaker said.

  ‘Well, I can’t be the only one sitting around eating cake,’ Roveg said.

  Speaker eyed both his cake and the quarter-full bottle lying beside him. ‘I think that’d be the best task for you right now,’ she said without judgement.

  Roveg started to argue, but felt the fledgling sentence crack, crumble, and dissolve. He had no idea what it was he was he’d wanted to say. He reached out and took a second piece of cake for later. ‘You’re probably right,’ he said.

  SPEAKER

  There was something strange about Ouloo’s home, and Speaker couldn’t place it. She thought at first it was the decor, which was low and curving and unlike anything she’d ever seen. But in that, the home should’ve been no different than a mixed marketplace or any other environment in which Speaker could expect to encounter dozens of things she’d never seen before. No, there was something else making the back of her neck prickle. She just didn’t know what.

  ‘Sorry about the clutter,’ Ouloo said with resignation. She stepped carefully around the scattered belongings in the hallway, shifting her tray of cakes this way and that as she rebalanced. ‘I told Tupo to pick up this afternoon. Not that I was planning to have any of you over, but it’s just the principle of the thing.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Speaker said. She operated her controls deftly, taking care to not make her suit step on anything. ‘I’ve seen worse.’

  ‘Yes, well,’ Ouloo grumbled as she made her way to the kitchen. ‘I don’t want you to think I don’t keep a clean house.’

  Speaker’s hand froze on her controls. That was it. That was what was weird.

  She’d never been in a terrestrial home before.

  Had she been in spacers’ ships? Yes, of course. That was all she’d ever lived in. Shuttles like Roveg’s? Not like his, no, but small craft serving as temporary homes on long hauls, yes. Buildings? Absolutely. Often. Anytime she was planetside.

  But never a house.

  ‘Kitchen’s this way,’ Ouloo called. ‘Can you move around okay in here? Is there room for your suit? I know our ceilings are a little low for bipedals.’

  ‘Yes,’ Speaker said. ‘I’m fine.’ She shook her head and continued to follow her host.

  It was funny how a kitchen could be so different from what she was used to and yet completely recog
nisable as a kitchen. Speaker didn’t know what most of the gadgets were, and she’d never seen a stove in a shape like that, but it was still undoubtedly a stove, or at least, a hot thing for cooking food on. There was a worktable of sorts as well. The remnants of that day’s baking were still scattered about it, coated in flour and smudged with frosting. Speaker felt slightly sad over the effort Ouloo had made, only to walk into a fight between the people she was trying to please.

  Not that Speaker regretted anything she’d said to Captain Tem. Not even remotely. She had no cause to. All she’d said was the truth.

  Ouloo put her tray of cakes in the stasie (Speaker recognised that appliance, at least). ‘Here, I’ll take those,’ Ouloo said, retrieving the tray from the suit’s hands. ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘It’s no trouble,’ Speaker said.

  ‘Oh, oh – but before I do.’ Ouloo set the tray in the stasie with the door open, then darted around looking for something. ‘I’ll box some up for you to take back to your ship.’ She paused. ‘Will they be all right for you to eat?’

  ‘I don’t know. What’s in them?’

  ‘Well, let’s see – sun beans, sugar, baking syrup, teth flour—’

  ‘Ah,’ Speaker said regretfully. ‘I know teth flour, and I’m afraid I can’t eat that.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Ouloo said. The Laru became a portrait of disappointment. ‘I’ve done such a bad job looking after you.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Speaker said. ‘You’ve never met one of me before.’

  ‘True, but that’s a reason, not an excuse.’ Ouloo tapped a paw on the floor, thinking. ‘Does your species have dessert?’ she asked. ‘You know, as a concept?’

  ‘Yes,’ Speaker said. ‘We do.’

  Ouloo’s neck corkscrewed lightly behind her head. ‘Any you know how to make?’

  ‘Oh,’ Speaker said, surprised by the question. ‘Um, yes, actually. Not many, but …’ She rifled through a mental list of recipes she could reliably succeed at. ‘I guess you’d translate it as rest-day custard. I know how to make that.’ She cocked her head. ‘Are you asking me for a recipe?’

  ‘Yes. And if you’re keen, I’d love for you to teach me how to make it,’ Ouloo said. ‘Just in case any more of you come by.’ She looked Speaker in the eye and smiled. ‘Or if you come back.’

  ‘If I’m travelling this way, I absolutely will,’ she said. She meant it. ‘So. Custard. I doubt you’ll have all the ingredients.’

  Ouloo’s paws bounced with excitement in a way not entirely unlike her child’s. ‘Does that mean you’re going to show me?’

  ‘Yes.’ Speaker laughed. ‘Though, I’m going to need to go back to my shuttle. I don’t think I have everything I need there, either, but—’

  ‘Oh, we’ll improvise,’ Ouloo said. ‘We’ll muddle through, and if it’s a mess, it’s a mess.’

  And so Speaker found herself back on the path outside, heading to the shuttlepad to fetch whatever ingredients she had. What a strange day it was, she thought. She’d had a fancy meal with a Quelin, told an Aeluon to fuck off, and was now on her way to teach a Laru how to make her mother’s custard recipe. There were other, better, more pressing reasons for why she wanted to talk to Tracker, but once the important things were sorted, Speaker couldn’t wait to tell her about all of this. She thought maybe she’d write her a letter later, so as not to forget the details. She wouldn’t send it, of course – it wasn’t an emergency, and she wasn’t about to be one of the people making the comms jam worse over something frivolous. She began to draft a message in her head as she stepped into the airlock and waited for the air to cycle through. Sister, you won’t believe the day I’ve had, she thought. I know you hate coming planetside, but I wish you’d been here for this—

  The hatch opened, and with it, the letter vanished, along with the recipe, the fight, the breakfast, any memory of anything that wasn’t in front of her right then.

  On the floor, limbs sprawled, neck twisted in on itself, nostrils shut against air they could not breathe, was Tupo. Unmoving. Unbreathing. Unresponsive.

  Scattered before xyr, resting where they’d fallen, lay two pieces of cake.

  Dys 238–239, GC Standard 307

  IN THE EVENT OF AN EMERGENCY

  EVERYONE

  An alert light flashed; someone was in the airlock and wanted to come through the hatch. Whoever it was, Pei was not in the mood. She stood in her shuttle’s kitchen, leaning against the pantry and drinking a large cup of water. She was in that stage of intoxication where she was beginning to entertain the possibility that maybe – just maybe – she’d overdone it.

  The light continued to flash. She would get it, of course. It was probably Ouloo, making a fuss. No, that wasn’t a kind way to think of it – Ouloo was checking in, most likely. Pei knew it wasn’t nice to keep her host waiting, but she also really didn’t feel like talking anymore. She wanted to sit in proper quiet and be with her feelings and—

  Her implant buzzed, and a loud, rhythmic thudding accompanied it.

  Someone wasn’t just at the hatch. Someone was kicking the hatch.

  Frowning purple, Pei walked over to a monitor panel and gestured, pulling up the view from the hatch’s security cam. Her inner eyelids flicked hard. It wasn’t Ouloo. It was Speaker.

  As soon as Pei processed what Speaker was carrying, she dropped her cup and ran.

  The fucking hatch finally melted open. Captain Tem stared at Tupo, lying limply in the mech suit’s arms. ‘What the hell—’

  Speaker cut her off. ‘You said you have medical equipment,’ she said.

  Captain Tem snapped into action just as Speaker had. ‘This way,’ the Aeluon said, hurrying down the surreal hallways of her soft-shelled ship. Speaker followed with equal speed. She ignored the empty weapon racks and hanging sets of armoured clothing, saving her disgust for another time. She tried to keep Tupo’s long limbs from falling out of the suit’s grasp, but stars, it wasn’t easy.

  She arrived at what amounted to a small med bay – a decent-sized room with a bed, a bot scanner, and various supplies for patching people up. Captain Tem activated panels and monitors with one hand, and opened a hole in the wall with the other. ‘Where did you find xyr?’ she asked.

  Speaker moved the suit in and lay Tupo on the bed as gently as she could. The bed moulded itself around the child, hugging xyr limbs supportively. ‘On my ship,’ Speaker said.

  ‘And what ha—’ What happened, Captain Tem presumably began to say, but as she caught sight of Speaker’s suit, she fell silent. ‘How long has xe been without oxygen?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Speaker said. ‘I just found xyr a minute ago.’

  Captain Tem retrieved a small item from the hidden cupboard she’d opened: a packet of SoberUps. She tore the wrapping open, popped the tabs in her mouth, and crunched furiously. Her cheeks swirled a discordant mix of colours as she swallowed, as though her body was sorting itself out. ‘Did you flag the emergency channel?’

  ‘Not yet, I wanted to get xyr out of my ship first.’

  ‘Makes sense. Does xe have a pulse?’

  ‘I have no idea. Do you know how to check for a Laru’s pulse? Do they even have one?’

  ‘Fuck. I don’t know.’ Captain Tem ran a hand over her smooth head. ‘Okay. Okay, you – you know how to use a bot scanner?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You know the advanced options?’

  ‘Basically. I know the first aid functions.’

  ‘Okay, good, you – wait, shit, no, I’ll have to do it. You won’t be able to read my scanner. Here—’ She opened another previously unseen cupboard and retrieved what appeared to be a breathing mask connected to a handheld canister of super compressed air. ‘See if you can get this on xyr, I’ll do bots.’

  Speaker took the mask and moved to the head of the bed as Captain Tem picked up one of Tupo’s forelegs, searching for xyr wristpatch. Speaker gently lifted the child’s head with one hand and tried to slip the mask on with the other
. She still couldn’t tell if Tupo was breathing.

  ‘Dammit, there’s so much fucking fur,’ Captain Tem snapped. She searched through the thick curls with her delicate fingers. ‘Ah, there!’ She pressed a fingertip down on one spot, then brought the bot scanner over. ‘Okay, kid, let’s check you out.’

  ‘There’s a problem,’ Speaker said. ‘Look.’ She’d got the mask on, but the device was ill-fitting for a Laru head. Tupo’s mouth was too wide, but when Speaker tried to position the mask solely over xyr nose instead, the contours prevented a proper seal. Without that, it seemed, the canister wouldn’t activate.

  Captain Tem looked up from the scanner and grimaced. ‘Maybe we can—’

  ‘Tape,’ Speaker said. ‘Do you have tape? Or something like it?’ Captain Tem reached for a cupboard, but Speaker stopped her. ‘No, not medical tape. It’s got to be airtight. What would you use to patch a leaky pipe?’

  ‘Not tape,’ Captain Tem said. Her cheeks had settled into placid silver. ‘I’ve got sealant guns, but—’

  ‘Would that be safe for xyr?’

  The Aeluon’s eyelids flicked. ‘I mean, it’ll rip xyr fur off.’

  Unpleasant as that sounded, Speaker considered that an extremely fair trade under the circumstances. ‘Where?’

  Captain Tem pointed down the hallway and turned her attention back to the scanner. ‘Storage room. Straight ahead, then take a right, then the wall opposite from life support. You know how to open our doors?’

  ‘You just …’ Speaker raised one of the suit’s hands and mimed pressing its palm against something.

  Captain Tem glanced over as the scanner got to work. ‘Yeah, right.’

  Speaker worked the suit’s controls with one hand, following Captain Tem’s directions as she grabbed her scrib. She gestured at it, readying it for verbal request. ‘Flag local emergency channel,’ she said. ‘And make a voice call to the ground host.’

 

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