Diverse Demands

by Sharon Rose

Antony released tension with a slow breath.

  “No, she doesn’t.” Delf glared at Antony. “What did you say to her?”

  Antony shook his head. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

  Delf made one of the Veet grimaces and moved past them to follow Kena.

  Antony tapped his arm. “May I offer you advice? She needs some time alone.”

  “Or maybe just time away from you,” Delf retorted.

  “Let it go,” Tevd said. “He’s bound to know more about Humans than you do. If she wanted to talk to you, she could have stayed.”

  Delf remained but scowled at Antony. “Kena does not get angry without strong provocation.”

  Antony employed the smile and tone that had worked countless times with Veet. “Good. A desirable trait.”

  Chapter Nine

  Antony arrived in nav section before first shift started the next morning. Screens filled the wall at one end with consoles below. Plenty of simulators lined the side walls. Well-equipped. He headed toward the consoles, side-stepping to pass between departing and arriving navigators.

  Hrndl stood at a lift-console mounted in the central table, using it while assigning duties. At her directions, navigators left for the bay, astro section, or nav command. Soon only the senior navigators, Jorlit, Delf, and Kena, plus someone he hadn’t met yet, remained with the four new navs.

  Hrndl depressed the console to the table surface. “Introductions first.” She glanced down at the brown-haired Tenelli woman beside her. “This is Netlyn, our second navigator, who couldn’t greet you at arrival. She splits her shift, so she is available while I sleep.”

  Netlyn responded to introductions in a soft voice, her downy hair afloat.

  Hrndl motioned them all to join her around the table. “We must discuss tra-pentazine, a substance new to us but familiar to the PitKreelaundun. You already know that it caused two planets and a large moon to break apart in the SMG76428 system.

  “Were either of the planets inhabited?” Farian asked.

  “We saw no indication of that,” Hrndl said, “and the PitKreelaundun confirmed this. They knew the system was at risk and had checked for lifeforms. Later, we learned that tra-pentazine destroyed the planet PitKreel a few hundred years ago.”

  Hrndl turned her gaze to each of the new navigators. “Beyond doubt, that justifies the aggressive attention they give trazine and pentazine. These elements are more dangerous and unpredictable than any other. They’re difficult to identify in scanning, and—worst of all—they respond…oddly to gravitational force. The Ontrevay’s generated gravitational field attracts tra-pentazine to us.”

  Tevd stretched out his long limbs. “I heard that a mining ship was ordered away from the ejection arm where it runs adjacent to PitKreelaundun space. Is that related to this, somehow?”

  “Perhaps,” Hrndl said. “Tra-pentazine has been flowing from the nebula for countless millennia. It clutters PitKreelaundun space, with denser concentration in the ejection arms.”

  “If that’s the case,” Tevd said, “why have we never found it before now?”

  “Because we didn’t know what to look for,” Netlyn said. “We run many types of scans to identify different properties. Tra-pentazine is mixed with other matter, which we identify, while overlooking the most dangerous components.”

  Antony turned to Hrndl. “You mentioned, yesterday, that it can penetrate our energy shields. If there’s very much of it in the ejection arms, it seems strange we haven’t had accidents. We’re there often enough—at the edge, at least—to mine benzlium and such.”

  “Oh, we’ve had plenty of accidents,” Kena said. “We average about two per Prednian standard year.”

  “What are you talking about?” Theshain asked. “I’ve never heard of even one.”

  “Yes, you have,” Kena said, “but it would have been attributed to PitKreelaundun disguised weapons. When there’s an explosion near their border, we assume they caused it.” She tilted her head. “Sounds believable, since they hate us, but really, it’s tra-pentazine.”

  Farian curved her fingers in the Tenelli question gesture. “Do you mean they make weapons out of it, or just put it in key locations, or what?”

  “No.” Kena shook her head. “It’s already there. Our gravity ships disrupt it, and I don’t just mean trajectories. Disruption can destabilize it to the point of explosion.”

  Tevd’s face twitched in a weird Veet grimace, pulling his features one way, then another. Antony had given up trying to interpret those. Kena’s lips tightened.

  Delf’s retort was low-pitched for a Veet. “Look at more data, Tevd, before you dismiss what you’re hearing.”

  “That’s fair advice,” Tevd said with a conceding nod.

  “You’ll all get that opportunity.” Hrndl swept her glance around the four new crew members. “I’m going to split you between the three shifts for now. You will rotate through them, so you get to know all the navigators. More important, you will each have time to work with Netlyn, who leads third shift. No one in the Collaborative can teach you more about scanning for tra-pentazine.”

  She gestured to each of them in turn. “Tevd, you will start out on third shift, then move to first, then second. Antony, you will start on second shift under Jorlit, then follow Tevd in rotation. Theshain and Farian, you start out with me on first shift.”

  They acknowledged her orders, then Antony asked, “Which shifts are Delf and Kena on?”

  “First,” Hrndl said. “Our largest shift. We try to keep external missions during that timeframe. Kena and Delf lead most of them. Once we have you adequately trained, I’ll be able to reconsider that.”

  Antony suppressed a grimace of his own. Did she think they were all rookies? Tevd must be fuming.

  Hrndl stood and rested her hands on the back of her chair. “Piert, our chief scientist, will also be educating you on the properties of tra-pentazine. I do not dare send you out on missions or give you control of the Ontrevay until I am convinced that you know what you’re dealing with.”

  Hrndl watched Antony. Had he revealed something without realizing?

  “You look perplexed,” she said. “Feel free to ask.”

  “It’s not a question, exactly. It’s just that we’ve been piloting through this area for the past month.”

  “True. We chose your general course to keep you clear of tra-pentazine. That’s why you were sent into PitKreelaundun space. There are…” Her nostrils pinched. “…difficulties with sending all of our newfound knowledge to the Collaborative.” She flicked her gaze to Tevd. “Not the least of which, is a tendency toward disbelief.”

  Hrndl glanced across their faces again. “I cannot stress the risks enough. We lost a fully shielded craft when tra-pentazine exploded nearby. It shattered the crew module. We are now triple-shielding, and our scientists experiment to improve shield design. That means, we’re outside daily, transporting samples between the containment grid and test chambers. We’re consuming our benzlium fast and must gather more, often. Beyond doubt, if I could send you out I would. We are short on time, but I also must keep you as safe as possible. That requires more training.”

  Antony acknowledged with a nod. Not that he could disagree.

  “Ghent will be joining us soon,” Hrndl said. “Before then, I’ll meet with each of you individually. You first, Antony.”

  He followed her to the only private room in nav section. As they entered, illumination rose, casting a golden glow over beige walls and olive furniture.

  She sat with the smooth, yet rigid motion of her race, in the center of a lounge/sofa combo. Behind her, molding gave the walls depth and framed Hrndl with right-angled symmetry.

  “It’s Grfdn decor,” she said as he looked around.

  He took a chair, textured like soft leather, and waited for her to speak.

  “You are a puzzle,” she said.

  “Am I?”

  “Some races are…concerned about Human crew members,” Hrndl said. “I’m s
ure you’ve had to deal with this before. I learned from Kena that it’s a groundless stereotype. I anticipated no problems, only benefits from adding another Human to my staff. Nor was I alone in this.”

  Was she fishing for something? “I also value the opportunity to join this crew.”

  “I was planning to meet with you first,” she said, “but Tevd sought me out last night, so I’ve already met with him. He speaks very highly of you.”

  Antony inclined his head. “I can speak highly of him, too. My entire team worked well together.”

  “Unfortunately,” she said, “the stereotype Kena discredited has re-emerged. I heard complaints of you within an hour of your arrival. The ship is filled with chatter that you argued with Kena.”

  “I see.” He would have left it at that, but Hrndl held silence. He was going to have to say something. “Doesn’t a month of success mean more than one trivial incident between two people who are barely acquainted? No one even knows what we spoke of. It was a private conversation in English.”

  “True, but those who heard it could tell Kena was angry. We all know it takes a great deal to rouse her.”

  “Has Kena complained to you?”

  “Not at all.” Hrndl shifted back. “We have good rapport, so I asked her about it. She said only that it was a private matter and that the two of you could resolve your own issues.”

  “I agree.”

  She regarded him for too long. “You are missing the point.”

  He angled his head. “I’m listening.”

  “Kena has many friends throughout the crew. She gained respect to a degree I have never seen across races. Then, she was held by the PitKreelaundun, beyond our reach. We knew she’d been injured, but it was impossible to assist her.”

  He clenched his jaw.

  “It’s interesting,” Hrndl said, “how that event cemented a loyalty to Kena that appears unbreakable. The crew were willing to extend friendship to you, too. I was delighted when you sparked Kena’s laughter. We’ve been longing to hear it again. But then, you quenched it and, later, argued.” She watched him. “When you should have been building relationships, Antony, you cracked the foundation, instead.”

  “Then I will repair it,” he said. “But please tell me, what happened to Kena on the Epri7? I know only that she was there, and that Ghent went to get her. How was she injured?”

  Hrndl stared past him. “It’s difficult to know what to say. We recorded all communication with the PitKreelaundun, of course. That was minimal at first, increasing as events unfolded. In the end, they gave us the full, live feed of the trial Kena mentioned.” She met his gaze again. “But only the officers have seen all of this. We intended to release it to everyone but wanted to give Kena time to prepare her report first. Obviously, there are things that only Kena knows.” Hrndl shifted. “Over a month, and she is still not finished. After the way she spoke of Pernanyen…”

  Hrndl drew a slow breath. “To say that Pernanyen was on trial because she wouldn’t let Kena leave is an extreme understatement. Kena will not speak of the details. She’s never even mentioned the difference in their names before. I could take that as a sign of progress, but what she omitted…” Hrndl’s exhalation rumbled.

  What could have happened? “Gordahl said PitKreelaundun acclimation was harsh. Is that what injured her, or something more?”

  “Something more, but…I don’t want to violate her privacy.”

  Antony traced back over the little he knew. What about Kena’s telepathic abilities? Could the injury be related to that? Oh, no! If she had been physically abused, his gesture with the pouch was…beyond inexcusable. His lips tingled, and he swallowed hard. “It would be best if Kena tells me herself—as much as she’s willing to—but I might accidentally cause her more distress if I know nothing.” He groped for words. “Could you tell me whether it was a physical injury or…what you would call a sairital injury?”

  Hrndl narrowed her eyes. “Kena has explained that Humans use two English words, mind and spirit, in place of the Prednian word sairit. How would you ask the question with your native terms?”

  Wow! She really did share a lot with Hrndl. “Was it a physical or mental injury? That is, an injury pertaining to the mind?”

  Hrndl nodded slowly. “I believe it would be accurate to say it was a mental injury. Also, it’s common knowledge that it prevented sleep for days. That was all we knew, at first.”

  “Is she capable of performing her duties?”

  “Oh, yes! The injury resolved. Suddenly, in fact. But she won’t speak of it and…her exuberance is gone. I don’t think I can say more.”

  Exuberance? What had she said earlier? Something about Kena’s missing laughter. His own suppressed pain stirred. He knew that feeling all too well.

  “If you have no other questions for me,” Hrndl said, “please ask Farian to join me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Antony returned and relayed the message. It felt like someone had muted the nav section. Why were they silent—and where had Kena gone?

  Kena took a chair at the curved granite table in Ghent’s consult room. His fur puckered above his ebony, almond-shaped eyes.

  “How are you, Kena?” he asked.

  “I am well.” Would he ever stop asking? His intentions were good, but he only reminded her of the decision that still plagued her. They’d been through so much together. He had risked his life for her, but he could not remove that one event from her future.

  He left a pause, then asked, “What do you think of the new navigators?”

  She tilted her head. “I’ve barely met them. It would be unfair to form an opinion so soon.”

  “Of course, yet everyone does form initial opinions.”

  “True, but I don’t state them.”

  “Not everyone,” Ghent said, “keeps their impressions to themselves.”

  The typical chatter, no doubt. He wasn’t going to let this go till she answered. “Impressions about whom?”

  “Antony Galliano. Particularly, regarding how he treats you.”

  “Ah.” Her shoulders tensed. “If I am willing to allow him time to show who he really is, others could extend the same courtesy.” That came out harsher than she intended.

  His chest shook in a silent chuckle. “Are you reprimanding me?”

  “Of course not. You didn’t criticize, you only asked.” She slowed her words. “I suppose, I’m annoyed that others must have criticized him to you, and I would like to reprimand them. A bit of a challenge, since they said nothing to me.”

  Ghent swept his fingers in a characteristic arc on the table. “I ask you for only one thing.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “If he causes you problems, I want to hear about them from you.”

  The depth of his concern touched her. “I will tell you if it comes to that.”

  His quick, Plynteth nod—much like the end of a paragraph—signaled an abrupt subject change. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms along the curved backrest of his chair. The charcoal gray fur on his shoulders and upper arms shifted as his muscles flexed. “I’ll be meeting with the new navigators soon. They’ve only seen the report I sent Gordahl. I’d like you there, but I’m going to talk about the PitKreelaundun. Things you may not want to hear.”

  Her stomach clenched. When would it quit that? So unnecessary. “What, exactly?”

  “The details of what I learned from Leonfir. Will that disturb you?”

  “Ghent, that is your experience, not mine. What you say is entirely your decision. Just because I don’t like to talk about—about Pernanyen, doesn’t mean you can’t speak freely.”

  “True, I have that right.”

  He meant something more, but what?

  “Kena, if I talk of linking with Leonfir, sooner or later they will ask whether you linked with a PitKreelaundun.”

  She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “I’ve responded to that question before.”

  He softened his vo
ice. “It would be more accurate to say you are skilled at not responding to that question.”

  She bit her lower lip.

  “Which is your prerogative,” he said, even more gently. “But there is a problem. I need to release my full report, and then I must release the recordings of all dealings with the PitKreelaundun. At which point, everyone will know that Pernanyen forced you to link.”

  Kena commanded her lungs to inhale. “Are you doing all that today?”

  “No. Only speaking of my link with Leonfir. I won’t surprise you with it, Kena. I’ll let you know first.”

  She released a long breath, and silence stretched. “I appreciate you giving me advance notice.”

  He stood and moved around the end of the table. Their meeting must be over—she should also rise. Her muscles refused to comply.

  He pushed a chair out of the way, propped himself against the table, and rested a hand on her shoulder.

  A comforting touch, yet alien. Four fingers instead of five. Her chest ached. She had longed for Human comfort…No, she couldn’t think of that now. The meeting Ghent wanted her to attend…that was the issue of the moment. She raised her eyes to his.

  “You are not required to join us,” he said.

  His patience with her was really quite touching. She sighed out her answer. “I think I had better.”

  Kena returned to nav section with Ghent. Hrndl and Delf still conversed with the new navigators, though Netlyn and Jorlit had left.

  Hrndl rose and approached Ghent. “May we link, sir.”

  Kena stepped aside and waited. Antony’s eyes widened. Did he have a problem with telepathy?

  Delf frowned, looking between her and Antony. What was wrong?

  Ghent and Hrndl finished their link and moved to the table, drawing Kena to sit between them.

  If nothing else, she felt protected. Too bad they couldn’t protect her from her own memories.

  Ghent began with his customary abruptness. “Have you reviewed my initial report, which Gordahl provided?”

  They all nodded.

  “It was incomplete,” Ghent said. “I can share more now that you are here. However, I must stress that we are still limiting personal communications. You are free to relate where you are and that we have peaceful dealings with the PitKreelaundun, but nothing more. Understood?”