The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet

by Becky Chambers

  Rosemary gave a short laugh. “Most days I wake up and have no idea what the hell I’m doing.”

  He puffed his cheeks. “I don’t mean the practical details. Nobody ever figures those out. I mean the important thing. The thing I had to do, too.” He made a clucking sound. He knew she would not understand it, but it came naturally. The sort of sound a mother made over a child learning to stand. “You’re trying to be someone good.”

  Day 335, GC Standard 306

  KEDRIUM

  Kizzy was up too late, as usual. That had been standard procedure ever since she was a kid. When she was small, Papa would tuck her in with a story and a kiss and a hug from Tumby, her stuffed frog. Moments after the lights went out, her toes would start wiggling, and her butt would follow suit, and before long, the idea of holding still and sleeping seemed super unfair. At regular intervals, Papa would come into her room, lift her away from her building blocks, and tuck her back in, his patient voice growing ever wearier. Finally, Ba would get home from the evening shift at the water station, and he’d say, “Kizzy, sweetheart, please go to sleep. The blocks will be there in the morning, I promise.” That was true, but he missed the point. While the actual physical blocks would stay where she left them, her brain always was full of new configurations that she hadn’t tried yet. If she didn’t get them out before she fell asleep, they’d be totally forgotten by morning, when she’d be distracted by the promise of pancakes.

  As an adult, Kizzy had found ways to better manage the blueprints in her brain. She kept her scrib right by her bed so that she could fill it with sketches and notes without leaving the warmth of her blankets. But even so, unfinished projects often kept her up late. It always started with one last circuit, which turned into I bet I could fix this, and just a few more tweaks, and then bam, breakfast time.

  But in the tendays since the whole Akarak thing, Kizzy had stayed awake for a different reason. Her brain still buzzed with ideas, but she went out of her way to keep herself busy even after they’d all been used up. Tonight, for instance, she was up dusting interface junctions on a spare power conduit. It wasn’t a vital job. It wasn’t even a necessary one. But it was something to do.

  Dr. Chef had given her some drops to help her sleep, but she didn’t like them. They left her feeling fuzzy in the morning, and besides, she didn’t want to be the sort of person who needed drops at all. No, despite the tired, punched-face ache that nibbled at her all around the edges, she was going to do this without drops. Somehow, she’d figure out how to lie in bed without her mind drifting back to the cargo bay, guns in her face, Ashby bleeding in her lap. There hadn’t been a night since when she hadn’t laid there wondering if another ship would sneak up on them while she slept. She imagined Akaraks storming up to her room with their guns and shrieking voices. She imagined waking up to a pulse rifle pointed at her, or maybe not waking up at all. She remembered the way the bay doors had screeched as they were forced open. She remembered the thin jet of red that had spurted from Ashby’s mouth when the Akarak clocked him with the gun. One of these nights, she’d find a way to stop remembering. But for now, there were a lot of junctions to dust.

  “Hey, Kizzy,” said Lovey through the vox. “Sorry to bug you, but you’re the only one awake.”

  “What’s up, sweetcheeks?”

  “There’s a ship approaching, about an hour out.”

  The cleaning rag fumbled. Oh, stars. The Akaraks had come back. They’d circled back. Well, not this time, motherfuckers. She’d hide away in a wall panel, seal herself in from the inside so no one would know. She’d scurry through the walls like a mouse, pulling off flashbang sabotage until every last one of the scrawny bastards was dead. If it took tendays, fine. She’d just duck into the kitchen now and then to steal supplies. She could live in the walls. This was her ship, and — and who the fuck was she kidding? There was no way she could pull it off. They were dead, totally dead. Why hadn’t Ashby just bought a few guns back on Cricket? Dusthead Exodan, even just one gun would —

  Lovey continued. “They’re signaling us. It’s a GC distress signal.”

  Kizzy exhaled. She felt a smidge of guilt for being relieved that someone else was in trouble, but…ah well. She propped up her scrib against a spool of wire. “Patch ‘em through to my vid link.”

  The scrib switched on. A female Aeluon stared back at her. And like all members of her species, she was gorgeous. Silver skin, graceful neck, soft eyes, the whole shebang. Kizzy was suddenly very aware of the dirty worksuit she was wearing, the messy table, the — dammit, crumbs, she had cake crumbs on her shirt, and there was a pixel pen stuck in her hair, and — well, whatever. Surely the Aeluon had seen a Human tech before. She couldn’t blame Kizzy for belonging to a grubby profession, or an ugly species.

  “Hi there,” Kizzy said, brushing herself off. “I’m Kizzy Shao. What’s your trouble?” It was then that she noticed what the Aeluon was wearing. At first glance, the lady was just a snappy dresser, but Kizzy had played enough action sims to know an armored vest when she saw one — not clunky Human-style, but one designed to blend in with the rest of her outfit. The Aeluon was seated, but Kizzy could see the end of an energy pistol peeking up over her belt. And there, cuffed around her arm — wasn’t that a personal shield generator? Looked new, too. This lady meant business. Like, serious business. That wasn’t just protective gear. It was getting shit done because I am the boss gear. Kizzy wished that Jenks was awake.

  The Aeluon smiled (or, at least, something face-related that was close enough). “Hello, Kizzy. I’m Captain Gapei Tem Seri. I was hoping to speak to your captain. Is he available?”

  “He’s asleep, but I can wake him up if you — ”

  “No, no,” the Aeluon said. “Don’t disturb him. Are you authorized to permit unscheduled dockings?”

  Authorized to permit unscheduled dockings. Stars, this lady wasn’t messing around. “Um, sure, I guess,” Kizzy said. She wasn’t sure unscheduled dockings were something that had ever been specifically discussed aboard the Wayfarer. If a ship’s friendly and needs help, you help. Simple as that.

  The Aeluon nodded. The gesture looked practiced. She obviously knew how to talk with Humans. “We’ve suffered damage to our life support systems. It seems our most recent shipment included a delayed disruptor mine. It didn’t go off until we were out in the open.”

  “Whoa. Shit. Are you okay?”

  “We have temporary repairs in place, and we’ve been holding fairly steady for three days now. But we’re on our way to Aeluon space, and I’m not sure our stop-gap measures will last that long. What we really need is to shut down the core entirely and let our fixbots do their job.”

  “And you need a place to hang out in the meantime. No worries, we’ve got plenty of air to go around. Wait, do you not have a tech?”

  The Aeluon’s cheeks darkened into a greenish-grey. “We ran into some trouble at our last stop. Our tech…” She exhaled. “Our tech didn’t make it. I…I haven’t had a chance to hire a new one yet.”

  “Stars. I’m so sorry.” Okay, what the hell did this lady do that involved disruptor mines and the kind of “trouble” that ended in dead techs?

  The Aeluon didn’t say anything further about it. “Anyway, if we could come aboard, just while our bots do their job — ”

  “Why not let us do it? I’m the mech tech here, and our comp tech knows his way around a life support system. We’re better than bots, and depending on the damage, you might not have to take your systems offline.”

  The Aeluon considered this. “Are you familiar with Aeluon tech?”

  “Well, uh, not like, practically. But tech is tech. We can take a look, at least. Promise I won’t touch anything if I don’t know what it does.”

  “As long as it’s no trouble, then yes, I’d appreciate anything you could do.”

  “Cool. Yeah, definitely.”

  “Our ship is less than an hour out from yours, but we could half it if you meet us in the middle.”
<
br />   “Absolutely. No problem.”

  The Aeluon’s face brightened. “Wonderful.” The lights hanging above her reflected off her scales, like sunlight on a wave. Why was everything that the Aeluons did so pretty? “I’ve got a crew of six — er, five, plus two soldiers.” Holy shit, Aeluon commandos. Jenks is going to wet himself. “We’ll do our best to keep out of your way.”

  “Oh, no worries, that’s totally fine,” Kizzy said. “I’m sure Dr. Chef would love to feed you guys. He’s our cook.” Wow, that sounded stupid. For once, why couldn’t she just sound cool?

  “Yes, I know. Your captain and I are acquaintances, actually. But yes, thank you, Kizzy. I don’t know what we would’ve done if we hadn’t found you.”

  How does she know — The thought cut off with a thud. The pieces fell together. “Um, yeah, we’re, uh, happy to help. Hey, sorry, what did you say your name was?”

  “Gapei Tem Seri. Do you need me to send over my ID — ”

  “No, no, I just, ah…are you Pei?”

  The Aeluon paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Yes,” she said. The sound from her talkbox had gone soft, secret. “That’s a nickname I let my friends use. Ashby included.”

  Kizzy grinned so hard she thought her face would break. This lady — this insanely beautiful badass who wore energy pistols and said things like disruptor mine without kidding around — was Pei. Ashby didn’t just know this Aeluon. Ashby was banging this Aeluon. “Captain, um — sorry, I don’t know which name to call you by.” Aeluons had two last names, one for their family, and one for where they were from. She wasn’t sure which was which.

  “Captain Tem is fine.”

  “Well, Captain Tem, I think I’m speaking for my captain and all the rest of us when I say that you’re welcome to come aboard for as long as you like.”

  “Thank you, Kizzy.” Captain Tem paused again. “I’m not quite sure how to ask this — ”

  Kizzy got it. Captain Tem was an Aeluon, with an Aeluon crew, with Aeluon soldiers on board, and she was about to come aboard her Human boyfriend’s ship. Kizzy leaned forward, wiping the grin off her face. “Yes, we all know how to…be polite.” Meaning keep our mouths shut. “Especially around soldiers.”

  Captain Tem looked grateful. “Thanks, Kizzy. I appreciate that. I’ll signal again when we’ve reached your coordinates.”

  “Sounds good. See you soon.” The vidlink panel on the scrib flicked off. Kizzy started laughing. Oh, man. So cool. So. Cool. “Hey, Lovey,” she called to the vox. “Wake up Jenks. Sissix, too. I need to talk to them like right now.”

  “What about Ashby?”

  “Nah. I want to wake him up myself so I can see his face.”

  “Nosy.”

  “Says you.”

  The AI laughed. “Do you really think Captain Tem will let Jenks aboard her ship? He’d like that very much.”

  “Lovey, I have the feeling that this little rendezvous is going to be awesome for everybody.”

  ●

  Ashby’s brain wasn’t working right. For starters, he’d been startled out of three hours of sleep by Kizzy, who had decided to wake him up by hacking the lock on his door and turning on all the lights. Then she’d told him the most incomprehensible thing: Pei was coming aboard. Pei. Here. On his ship. And she’d been talking to Kizzy, of all people.

  “Do you have any idea what Kizzy said to her?” He was in the bathroom, finishing the fastest shower of his life.

  Sissix answered from the opposite side of the shower curtain. He could hear the amusement in her voice. It was the sound of the look she’d been wearing for the past ten minutes. “I have no idea,” she said. “But she didn’t even realize who she was talking to at first. I think your reputation is intact.”

  Ashby switched off the shower, blotted himself dry, and wrapped his towel around his waist. He stepped out into the room and grabbed a dentbot pack from the communal basket. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. “I look like shit.” He pulled back the seal on the pack and squeezed the gel onto his tongue. He tossed the empty package and pressed his lips together. He could feel the gel spread itself around his mouth as the bots searched for plaque and bacteria.

  Sissix leaned against the wall, holding a mug between her claws. “You do not, and even if you did, I highly doubt she’ll care.”

  “Mmph mm.”

  “What?”

  Ashby rolled his eyes and let the bots do their job, wishing they’d work a little faster. After a minute or so, the gel went thin, indicating that the bots had begun to break down. He spat the vaguely minty goo into a sink and rinsed it down the drain. “I said, I care.”

  “I know. And it’s very cute that you do.”

  He put his hands on the edge of the sink and looked into the mirror. His eyes had a hint of red, and his hair had seen better days. He sighed. “I don’t want to screw things up for her.”

  Sissix stepped over and put her hand between his shoulder blades. “You won’t. And neither will the rest of us. No jokes, no innuendos. We know how serious this is.” She pointed to a stack of clothes resting on the counter. “That’s the least wrinkly pair of pants I could find.” She handed him the mug. “And I had Dr. Chef make you some of this awful stuff.”

  The smell hit his nose before he even brought the cup to his face. Coffee. “You are the best.” He tipped the rim of the mug between his lips. Dark, bitter, strong. He felt better already.

  Sissix patted his forearm. “Come on. Put on your pants. I want to meet the woman who gets to take them off.”

  A short while later, he was standing in front of the airlock, surrounded by the self-appointed welcoming committee — Sissix, Dr. Chef, and the techs. Caffeine, adrenaline, and the need for sleep all battled for supremacy, chasing each other around like a pack of dogs. He felt like hell.

  “So, Ashby,” Jenks said. “You gonna tell us how you two met?”

  Ashby sighed. “Not right now.”

  Jenks grinned. He’d been doing that a lot this morning. “I’ll wait.” He pulled his redreed tin from a pocket.

  Dr. Chef nudged him. “No red smoke. Aeluons are often allergic.”

  Jenks closed the tin. “Real allergic, right? Not Corbin allergic?”

  Dr. Chef let out a percussive, laughing chord. “Real allergic.”

  “The Aeluon ship is now extending their docking tube,” Lovey said. Ashby could hear metallic clanking against the hull. “Their hatch is open. I’m initiating decontamination protocols.”

  Ashby could hear footsteps beyond the airlock door. Oh stars, she’s there. She’s in there right now. He exhaled.

  Sissix rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. “Nervous?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  Sissix rested her chin against his neck and squeezed his arm. Ashby’s mouth twitched. He knew it was a friendly, reassuring gesture, and Pei probably knew enough about Aandrisks to know what Sissix meant by it, but something in his Human brain balked at the idea of Pei walking in to see another woman draped over his shoulder. He lowered his voice. “Sis, sorry, but could you not…um…”

  “Hm?” Her yellow eyes searched his face, confused. “Ohhh. Right. Right.” She moved a step away and clasped her hands behind her back. She didn’t say another word, but Ashby could see the laughter in her eyes.

  “Ashby, there’s something weird here,” Lovey said.

  “What’s up? Some kind of bug?”

  “No, no contaminants, but I’m confused. Their patch scans all check out, but there are supposed to be two soldiers with them. All I’m getting are civilian patches.”

  “They’re probably undercover,” Ashby said. “It’s okay to let them in, Lovey. I trust them.”

  “So cool,” Jenks whispered to Kizzy. They both giggled like schoolkids. Stars and fire, you two, behave.

  The doors slid open. The airlock was full of people, but Ashby only had eyes for one of them. He was very much awake now.

  Pei stepped forward. “Permission to come a
board?” she said, looking deep into Ashby’s eyes. The air seemed to crackle between them. She had to play the captain now, but he could see that she wanted to say much more.

  He nodded. All was understood. “Come out of the open and into our home,” he said. It was an Exodan expression, one used for newly docked travelers. “It’s good to see you.” He extended his hand. This was a joke, though neither of their crews would get it. He knew full well that Aeluons pressed their palms in greeting, but he hadn’t known that when he’d first met Pei, and likewise, she hadn’t known what to do with his hand after she held it.

  “Good to see you, too, old friend.” She shook his hand, noting the gesture with nothing more than a slight flicker of her eyelids. Damn, she was good at this. If he hadn’t understood the need for secrecy, he might have been offended by her nonchalance.

  Introductions were made. Pei shook hands with the techs, pressed palms with Sissix (of course Sissix knew what to do), and laughed with Dr. Chef while trying to figure out his handfeet. Ashby worked his way through Pei’s crew, pretending as if he didn’t know their names, moods, and personal histories already. He knew that two of them, Sula and Oxlen, knew about him and Pei. Their eyelids flicked with acknowledgment as he met them. As far as he was aware, they were the only Aeluons in the galaxy who knew. He was going to do his damnedest to keep it that way.

  The two soldiers, though dressed in civilian clothing, were easy to spot. For one thing, they were armed more heavily than the others (which Ashby found somewhat unsettling), and their muscles were toned to perfection. One of them, a female, had an ocular implant. The end of an old scar jutted down below it. The male was young, but carried a weariness with him. Ashby wondered how long he’d been at war, and if he was glad for the respite of a cargo run.

  Ashby glanced at Pei, who was sharing pleasantries with his crew. He’d imagined her on his ship so many times, but his daydreams had played out differently. Pei would step through the airlock, with nothing but a bag over her shoulder and a smile in her eyes. He’d put his arm around her waist as he introduced her. Sissix wouldn’t have to hold back her welcoming hug. They’d go to the Fishbowl, where all his favorite people would get to know each other over one of Dr. Chef’s celebratory dinners. They’d drink mek and laugh, lounging easily in the garden. A simple blending of the two halves of his life. But here in the airlock, the separation was clear. Military and civilian. Aeluons and a mixed species hodgepodge. High tech and the-best-they-could-do. But even so, she was still on his ship, talking to his crew. The lines between their lives had become blurred. He could feel her pulling him across the divide.