Baswin

by Aurora Springer

  “Too much. I lost my qtel and didn’t see your message.” He launched into a short explanation of the events that culminated in his arrival on the spaceship, “Remember when I warned you about the masked men searching your apartment? Shortly afterwards, my apartment was also searched by two strangers. The kankreth villains shot my landlady. Reckoned our mission was finished, so I switched to my secondary alias and struck out for our embassy. Got hired as a com tech on a cargo ship sailing across the Pacific Ocean. Things got ugly on the voyage. I was hooked by a couple of drug smugglers and tossed into the sea. Tangled with sharks and jellyfish stingers. Thought I’d die.” He concluded, “By the Primal Mother’s blessing, I drifted onto an island near our embassy and was found half-dead. The warders revived me. They gave me a qtel to report to the Triarch and Webale gave me permission to join you.” Angling the com to display the room, he said, “This cabin’s on the Earther ship, Taxyon Two, and we’re bound for Europa. Though, I don’t know when I’ll hook a ride on a starship to Rishalt.”

  “By the sacred waters of Warra,” Alarik exclaimed, “I’ve so much to tell you.”

  Recalling their crippled Third, Baswin asked, “How is Karrik? Have you seen him?”

  Alarik’s expression sobered. “Much the same. He’s a little more responsive. We visit him often.”

  “We?”

  “Phoebe and I. An Earther woman I met on the space ferry. She saved my life, and I guess I saved hers.” He added in a slightly defensive tone, “The Pearl sisters approve of her.”

  “You’re lucky to have a female friend,” Baswin said. “An Earther woman found me, or rather my battered body, on a beach near the embassy. I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.”

  “You too?” Alarik chuckled. “Is she pretty?”

  “I thought she was an angel sent by the Great Mother.”

  “It seems strange to admire an Earther woman,” Alarik mused. “Yet, I met two other mixed couples on Europa. The notorious Ramis Bell duad were worried about the health of their pregnant luma. It was a prized animal, a gift from our gracious Prime Tol-Jadel. Phoebe has veterinary experience and she helped to birth the pups. And then we unraveled a thread of the mystery about the dead Eek ...”

  Baswin tapped a finger to his lips to interrupt his brother. “Don’t speak about that matter. Webale told me you had hooked a valuable clue. He warned me not to question you until I was far from Earth. But I’m on one of their spaceships and this berth might be bugged. I haven’t had time to scan the cabin.”

  His expression wary, Alarik asked, “What about you? Is our mission on Earth compromised?”

  “No more than before.” Baswin gave a shaky grin. “The captain was told the truth. I’m a wounded foreigner going home for treatment. My Warrish escorts said we would have separate quarters on the spaceship.”

  “Urish. We can wait until you’re on Europa.” He grinned, “Once you’re home, we’ll celebrate our reunion.”

  “I’ll be happy to see you and meet your new friend.”

  After saying goodbye to his First, Baswin shut off his qtel and leaned back on the pillow, wondering when the Black Arrows would come to check on him. Without knowing their qtel codes, he had no means of contacting them. He doubted his shaky legs would bear him to the door, although he might be able to crawl. Surely, one of his self-styled nurses would come soon.

  His patience was not tested for long.

  Torris entered quietly, whispering, “Are you awake?”

  “Urish. I’m awake and itching for a swim.”

  “This spaceship has no pools.” Wagging a finger, Torris said, “Don’t gripe. In four hexads, you can dive into the oceans of Europa.”

  “Am I permitted a change of scenery?”

  “We’ll carry you into our lounge. Our suite has a tiny galley and soft seats.” Torris summoned his brothers. The junior Black Arrows hoisted Baswin out of his bunk bed, carried him out of the cabin, and placed him on a couch.

  Gazing at the comfortable chairs, Baswin said, “I’m impressed. The Earthers have given us a luxury suite.”

  Tonnor said, “We’ve even brought a box of dried fish to make soup.”

  “It’s a special treat for our sick patient.” Torris joked.

  Laughing, Baswin said, “In truth, I’ve grown used to Earth foods, but fish soup is always good.”

  IN THE FIRST DAYS OF the voyage, Baswin slept a lot. The recycled air on the spaceship was too dry for comfort and the junior Black Arrows carried him into the shower two or three times a day to wet his gills. He ate heartily and worked to strengthen his leg muscles. He practiced hobbling around the suite with Tonnor’s support.

  At the end of the first hexad, the Black Arrows acquired a walking stick for his use. After a few trials, he was able to move independently around his cabin and the suite’s common space. But, Torris warned him never to leave their private quarters, and advised him to hide in his cabin if an Earther entered their private quarters.

  As his mental acuity rebounded, Baswin grew eager for some mental occupation to alleviate his boredom. The Black Arrows often left him alone while they visited the psychic candidates, or perhaps other travelers. Confined to their private suite, Baswin picked up his qtel and retrieved his software from its storage in the repository on Rishalt. He hacked into the spaceship’s brain and resumed his former occupation as a spy. Soon, he became familiar with the layout of the ship’s decks and its internal and external com systems.

  He did not wish to interfere with the vital systems of engineering and navigation. Instead, he pried into the data for passengers and crew. Scanning the crew, he memorized the names of senior officers. Captain April Striker, he noted with approval, was female. He often was confused by the status of genders in Earth society. The roles of the sexes were well-defined for Warrish, women were in charge and men executed their commands. The three female Primes, supreme leaders of his people, gave orders to nine male Triarchs.

  Next, he obtained the list of passengers. He noted an unusual number of medics as well as the twelve psychic women destined for the Opaline School on Rishalt. Recalling the name of his savior, Brisa Moon, he found two women, Holly and Rosie Moon, listed among the twelve candidates.

  He gazed at their images in the files. Holly Moon was his angel. He recognized her sweet smile and honey-colored curls. Yet, he might never meet her again. Unlike the men of the Black Arrow Triad, he was prohibited from roaming the spaceship and visiting the psychic women.

  Chapter 20

  AFTER THE INITIAL NOVELTY of life in a spaceship wore off, Holly grew restless. Unlike Rosie, who happily assisted in the medical clinic, she had no useful task. She practiced speaking Warrishan with the brothers of the Black Arrow Triad and she kept fit by exercising in the gym. Otherwise, she endured the standard routine of eating and sleeping. She missed her old home, working in the garden and hiking in the woods. Occasionally, she felt a stir of regret for leaving Sergeant Powell without a scryer. But she had set aside that familiar world from a sense of duty to her sister and to the future of humankind. If she and Rosie were accepted into the tripilot school, Rishalt might offer some of the same expansive views, although swimming would replace walking as the natural means of travel.

  Several of the other psychics were also bored of inactivity. They practiced their skills, reading the fortunes of other passengers, or juggling fireballs courtesy of Shauntelle’s illusions. Some spent hours immersed in the virtual worlds of TriD sims.

  Others reinvented childhood games and dashed through the passages playing tag or hide-and-seek. The latter game was an uneven challenge. Some psychics, like Holly and the Li clones, were expert finders. Others were adept at hiding, seeming to become almost invisible. Holly was not a fan of virtual immersion and disliked using her skills to amuse others. With her sister engaged in healing, at times she felt obliged to join the games for entertainment.

  ONE AFTERNOON IN THE third week of their voyage, Holly raced along the corridors intent on ev
ading the designated seekers. She lost them at the airlock to the second section, judging by the absence of running footsteps. Just ahead, she spotted the entrance to the Warrish section. The door was marked in big red letters, reading, ‘No Entry. Reserved for Authorized Personnel.’

  The Warrish had always treated her well. Surely, they wouldn’t object if she hid in their quarters. Without further thought, she rapped on the door. A second harder rap brought the faint sound of somebody fumbling with the lock.

  The door swung open.

  Alarmed by a shuffling sound from the far end of the passage, she darted inside and collided with a larger person with orange hair. Instinctively, she clutched at his body to halt her flight.

  The door clicked shut at her heels and the man flung his arms around her. Unbalanced by her abrupt entrance, he swayed and toppled onto the carpeted floor, carrying her with him.

  Holly gave a gasp of shock. Had she jumped straight from one hazard to another? Embracing a strange man, an alien, was not her normal style.

  Still clasping her against his chest, he said, “Pardon my clumsiness, Brisa. My legs are stupidly weak.”

  Raising her head from its indelicate position on his chest, she recognized his angular features and vivid amber irises now framed by arched eyebrows of burnished orange. The bruises on his face had almost vanished. The curved orange comet on his left cheek, his thin orange mustache and the upstanding sweep of orange hair completed his transformation into an alien merman. “Baswin?”

  As if repeating a refrain, he murmured, “Baswin Kenton Tallis, Second of the Flaming Comets.”

  “Sorry. Should I call you Brin Tallis?”

  He smiled. “You may call me whatever you like, Miss Moon. Although, since we seem to have slipped past formality, Baswin fits better.”

  Becoming acutely aware of their closeness, her cheeks burned and she glanced aside. Her breasts tingled, pressed on top of his chest, and her knee lay between his legs, poking at his private parts.

  Firmly squashing a flare of desire, she eased out of his arms and rolled onto her knees before saying, “Holly. Call me Holly, please.”

  His fond expression and a twitch of amusement in his lips suggested he shared similar emotions. “Holly, it’s an honor to meet you again. You’ve won my eternal gratitude. You saved my life.”

  “Sure, I found you and called your people. Anybody else would have done the same.” She stood up and glanced nervously at the door where she had entered. No sound came from behind the solid barrier.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Nobody can enter this suite without Warrish approval. The lock is keyed to our fingerprints.”

  “Good.” Exhaling in relief, she said, “Though, I didn’t ask for permission.”

  “Urish,” he agreed. “By accident, I permitted your entrance.” With an evident effort, he wriggled onto his hands and knees.

  His clumsy motion reminded her of his injuries. Saddened by his physical weakness, she bent on one knee and touched his shoulder. “Lean on me, Baswin. Afterall, it was my fault you fell.”

  He gave a rueful laugh. “My thanks. I was walking to strengthen my legs.” Accepting her assistance, he placed his arm across her shoulders and struggled onto his feet. With her support, he limped across the room to a couch set against the wall. He dropped onto the cushioned seat.

  Holly remained standing in front of him.

  Reaching out his hand as if he wished to touch her, he asked, “Why did you rush into the Warrish section as if a tantra were hunting you?”

  While she prepared an answer, she scrutinized him carefully from head to toes. He wore a plain white tunic, loose over his chest and belted at his waist. Under his sleek leggings, his bare feet had the six toes of a typical Warrish.

  “I was being hunted,” she said slowly. “Not by a predator, but by some of the psychic girls. We were playing a silly game.”

  His orange eyebrows compressed in a frown. “What sort of game?”

  She groaned, “A childish game called hide-and-seek. I was running away to hide.” Gesturing to the door, she said, “One of the seekers likes to pinch people’s arms when she catches them. I thought I heard her coming, so I dove into your suite.”

  He patted the seat beside him. His tone softened and he pleaded, “Please sit with me. I’d welcome your company. The Black Arrows share these rooms. But most days, they are away, and I’ve seen nobody else since we left Earth.”

  “Okay. I’ll stay to chat for a few minutes. There’s nothing on my agenda until dinnertime.” She sat opposite him on the couch.

  “Why are you disturbed by these childish games?” His tone was so kind and gentle she felt like crying.

  Wrinkling her brow in thought, she began, “Well, we’re being assessed for our potential to become tripilot navigators. My sister, Rosie, believes some of the candidates are jealous. They’re trying to upset the other girls so they drop out of the program.”

  “Would eliminating you and your sister make these troublemakers more likely to pass the selection?”

  She shook her head. “I doubt it.”

  His orange brows lowered in a frown. “Can’t you complain to whoever is in charge of the candidates?”

  Giving a slight shrug of one shoulder, she explained, “Nobody’s in charge, not officially. The Black Arrows joke about being our protectors. They encourage us to speak Warrishan, but don’t interfere in our activities. The neurosurgeon, Dr. Kumar, is traveling with us. But she and her assistant are too preoccupied with their neurosensors and analytic instruments to care what we do.”

  “Where is your sister? Can they trouble her?”

  “Rosie’s gone to tend to an injured man. One of the Mech Techs had an accident. Her psychic talent is healing. She’ll be fine. The doctor will be with her in sick bay. Doctor Kumar loves to monitor Rosie’s brain waves while she’s performing her talent.”

  “Urish. I remember how your sister’s touch soothed my pains.”

  His calm words recalled his own suffering. Holly reached over to touch his hand in a gesture of sympathy. “Yes. Rosie’s marvelous at easing aches. Yet will that skill qualify her to become a tripilot?”

  “You must know more about tripilots’ abilities than I do.” He stroked the back of her hand with gentle fingertips. “I’ve met tripilots when they were off duty. They often act a little crazy. Hyperspace navigation is stressful. The tripilots must identify the correct route and guide the ship safely along the hyperthreads. They are dedicated to the safety of their ship and its occupants. Those girls who are teasing you don’t have the right attitude. Their behavior would not be tolerated by the teachers in the Opaline School.”

  “I’m worried about the tests for candidates,” Holly confessed. “What we would do if I’m selected and Rosie isn’t? We’ve always been close. We’ve lived together for most of our lives and I’d hate for us to be separated.” Depressed by the idea, she gave a sad little sniff. “One of us might be in school on a faraway planet and the other stranded on Earth.”

  “Have you been conscripted?” he demanded. “Forced to become candidates and endure these tests?”

  Giving a dismissive laugh, she said, “No. It’s voluntary, or so we were told. But, it’s important. Earth needs to recruit human navigators for our starships instead of paying for Warrish tripilots. We can’t afford the loss of lives in your wars and the world governments are eager to colonize distant planets.”

  “Over eager, perhaps,” he said dryly.

  “Right.” A momentary frown crossed her smooth brow. “We were persuaded it was our duty. We all know soldiers who didn’t come back from the battles.”

  “My Triad served in those battles,” he said. “My younger brother almost died. He was crippled in mind and body and he needs constant care.” He held up a hand and extended the five fingers. “My Third brother, Karrik, is the reason Alarik, my First, and I agreed to have our sixth fingers removed and live on Earth disguised as humans.”

  “You
were spying on humans,” she said. “I guessed as much.”

  “Spying is an ugly term. We were monitoring the opinions of Earthers. Our deception did no damage.”

  She teased, “What’s so bad about having only five fingers?” She flattened her palm against his open hand and aligned their fingers. Acknowledging the irony of her response, she murmured, “Sorry, Baswin. I shouldn’t joke about it. Didn’t you have any other options?”

  He compressed his lips and vented a groan. “Alarik and I are doubly mutilated. Our Triad was damaged. Our parents wanted us to abandon Karrik and adopt a new Third. When we refused, they disowned us in the traditional way. They cannot use a damaged Triad to enhance their family’s status by arranging for their children to marry into a higher ranked family. So, my brother and I chose the other option, despite knowing that no proper Warrish woman would marry a mutilated man.”

  “What an awful, restrictive system. I didn’t understand the implications of your hexath families before.”

  Twining his fingers between hers, he said, “In theory, the interconnections between families can strengthen our society. But, in practice, many people fall outside of the system and suffer neglect.”

  In silent sympathy, she squeezed his hand. “It must be worse with the wars.”

  “Urish. And, we have inflicted the same woes on your people.”

  Swallowing a flash of anger at the loss of lives, she said, “Our governments were desperate with greed for your hyperspace technology.” She lifted her gaze to his face. “That’s why Rosie and I are on this spaceship.”

  “I’m happy you’re here.” He leaned closer, and capturing both of her hands in his, he said, “May I ask a favor of you?”

  “Sure.” Her pulse thumped in anticipation.

  “Will you visit me again? It’s a dreary voyage and I’m alone too often.”

  She hesitated, happy about his invitation, yet worried about the propriety of visiting him alone.