Galaxy Blues

by Allen Steele

  Ali nodded. He waited until Jas moved away from the helm, then swiveled his chair back toward the console and began entering commands into his keyboard. At her station on the other side of the table, Emily was murmuring into her headset, telling Starbridge Coyote that we were about to launch. Ted watched as Jas put hisher glove back on. “We’ll be ready to go in about five minutes. If you’d like to stay here, we can…”

  “Thank you, Captain, but I would prefer to return to my quarters.” Turning away from him, Jas almost seemed to disregard Ted. “Would you please have a member of your crew take me back?”

  “Certainly.” Ted looked around the command center. Emily was busy, and both Doc and Ali were needed on the bridge just then. On the other side of the deck, Goldstein was already unfastening his harness. Then Ted’s gaze fell upon me. “Jules, if you’ll please…?”

  Goldstein’s eyes widened, and there was no missing the scowl on his face. Before he could protest, though, I snapped open my harness. “I’d be glad to, sir,” I said, pushing myself out of my chair. “If it’s all right with the Prime Emissary, that is.”

  Ted looked at Jas. Hisher head moved back and forth upon hisher long neck; at first I thought heshe was objecting, until I remembered that this was the hjadd equivalent of a nod. Then Rain spoke up. “Skipper, may I join them? With the Prime Emissary’s permission, of course.”

  Ted looked dubious. “I don’t know why we need to send two…”

  “You are curious?” Jas’s helmet turned toward her, and Rain nodded. “Very well. I would be delighted to have guests…if your captain approves.”

  Ted hesitated. “Very well…but don’t overstay your welcome, either of you.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Rain unbuckled her harness, then rose from her seat. “After you,” she said to me, gesturing toward the access shaft.

  I’d be lying if I said that I was pleased to have Rain tag along. Perhaps we were getting along a little better, but I didn’t want to have her henpecking me all the way down to Deck Three. Besides, I wanted Jas all to myself. Call it selfish, but how often in life does one get the chance to have private time with an alien?

  Nothing I could do about it, though, so I pushed myself over to the hatch and pulled it open. From the corner of my eye, I saw the jealous scowl on Morgan’s face, yet I couldn’t help but notice that Ash was grinning broadly, as if he was enjoying his own private joke…or, perhaps, savoring his patron’s irritation.

  Then I ducked down the manhole and—with Jas close behind me and Rain bringing up the rear—began to make my way down the access shaft.

  XII

  None of us said anything until we reached Deck Three, but three bells rang just as we entered the passageway, warning us that the main engine ignition was imminent.

  I had just enough time to brace my hands against the corridor walls and rest my feet on the floor before a prolonged shudder passed through the ship. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure that the others were all right; Jas’s broad feet had found the carpet as well, and although Rain had been caught off guard, she quickly recovered by grabbing hold of the ceiling rail and planting the soles of her stickshoes against the carpet. For the next fifteen minutes or so, we would enjoy one-third gravity while the Pride accelerated to cruise velocity.

  “Well, we’re off,” I said, stating the obvious if only for the sake of conversation. Lowering my hands, I stepped aside to make way for Jas. “Prime Emissary, if you’d like to lead the way…?”

  “Thank you.” As the hjadd moved past me, I caught my reflection in hisher faceplate. “There is no need to be so formal, Mr. Truffaut,” heshe added. “You may call me Jas.”

  “Uh, sure…right.” I’d forgotten that heshe’d told me so before. Behind us, Rain was closing the deck hatch. I waited until she’d dogged it shut, then followed Jas down the corridor. “Thank you for letting me…I mean, both of us…see your quarters.”

  A sibilant hiss from hisher mouthpiece. “The courtesy is long overdue,” Jas said as heshe led us past the medical bay. “We have allowed only a few of your kind to enter our compound on Coyote. Perhaps the time has come for us to be less jealous of our privacy. Very soon we will be arriving at Talus qua’spah. A little cultural acclimation is desirable.”

  “Talus pah-squa…?” I stumbled over the words. “I’m sorry, but what…?”

  “Talus qua’spah. In your language, the House of the Talus.” Jas came to a halt beside an unmarked hatch. A black plate had been set within it; once again, heshe removed hisher left glove, then placed hisher palm against it. “That is only an approximate translation of what it really means, but it will suffice.”

  The panel turned purple, then the hatch slid open, revealing a small antechamber that I assumed was an internal airlock. Jas stepped into it, then turned to look back at us. “Please remain here until I summon you. I must prepare myself for visitors.” Then heshe touched a button beside the door, and the hatch closed once more.

  That left Rain and me alone in the corridor. An uncomfortable silence settled between us. With nothing to say or do, I gazed at the bulkhead, idly speculating how much effort it must have taken Janus’s engineers to retrofit this part of the ship to hjadd specifications. I was beginning to count the rivets when Rain quietly cleared her throat.

  “I just want to…” She paused, started again. “Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I mean, about what happened during load-in.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I continued to study the bulkhead.

  “No, really…I mean it.” Putting herself between me and the wall so that I couldn’t ignore her, she looked me straight in the eye. “You knew what you were doing out there…better than I did, to tell the truth…and I was just trying to see if I could piss you off.”

  “Yeah, well, you succeeded.”

  “Uh-uh. I’ve been told I have a talent for that.” A crooked smile that quickly faded. “Ted told me that you almost quit.”

  That wasn’t quite what had happened, but I wasn’t about to correct her if it made her feel guilty. “Believe me,” she went on, “that’s not what I want. I just…look, can we still be friends? I promise that I won’t snap at you anymore.”

  I could tell that she was making a sincere effort to make up. I was still a little angry about the things she’d said to me, but if she was willing to apologize, it would have been churlish of me to refuse. “Yeah, all right,” I said, and as an afterthought offered my hand. “Case closed.”

  “Okay. Case closed.” Rain grinned as she took my hand. I was surprised by how soft her touch was, and was almost reluctant to let go. “Glad to put that behind us.”

  “Yeah, well…so am I.”

  Another silence fell between us. Perhaps we’d ceased fire, but there were still old wounds that hadn’t healed. The hatch remained shut, and I wondered what Jas was doing in there. But there was something else that roused my curiosity…

  “Pardon me, but may I ask a personal question?”

  “I don’t know.” She frowned. “Depends how personal it is.”

  I hesitated. Too late to back down, though, so I forged ahead. “Yesterday, when we were at breakfast and talking about my brother, I happened to mention yours, and that set you off.” There was a spark within her eyes, and I quickly raised my hand. “Hey, I’m not trying to pick another fight. I’d just like to know…what was it that I said about him that got you so riled?”

  “You didn’t know?” Rain stared at me. “No one told you?”

  “I’m new around here, remember? I couldn’t find my way to the outhouse without a map.”

  That brought another smile to her face. “At least you admit that,” she said with a slight laugh before becoming somber again. “It’s not something I like to talk about, but…well, you’re not the only one with a black sheep in the family.” She looked down at the floor. “My brother killed my father.”

  Of all the things she could have said to me, nothing could have been more unexpected. It was my turn to be
apologetic. “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

  “No, of course not. Like you said, there’s no reason why you should’ve known.” Rain shook her head. “I guess I’ve become so used to having people talk about him behind my back, it’s like I have it tattooed on my forehead.”

  She let out her breath as a tired sigh. “My brother, Hawk…who’s about your age, by the way…murdered my father. Our father, I mean. There’s a lot of people who say he had it coming…my father was a mean drunk, and even my mother says he was a bastard, which was why they were separated…but all the same, Hawk shouldn’t have…”

  She broke off when the hatch abruptly slid open, a silent invitation for us to enter. “Guess that means we can come in,” I said, making a courtly bow. “Ladies first…”

  “Thank you.” Rain seemed happy to be interrupted. Not that I could blame her, but Jas couldn’t have picked a worse moment. Yet I let the subject drop as we stepped into the antechamber.

  XIII

  The airlock was a small foyer just large enough for the two of us, with an identical hatch on the opposite side. Once the outer hatch closed behind us, the ceiling lit with a pale yellow luminescence.

  “Welcome,” said Jas, hisher voice coming from a speaker beside a small control panel. “Before I repressurize the room you are in, you will need to put on breathing masks. You will find them in the compartment to your right.”

  Rain turned around, located a small candy-striped panel recessed within the wall; inside were two full-face air masks. We slipped them on, and I helped Rain activate the miniature oxygen-nitrogen cylinders on either side of the lower jaw. Jas must have been observing us, because as soon as we were ready, there was a faint buzz and the airlock began to repressurize.

  We could’ve breathed the air within Jas’s quarters, but not for very long. Watching the digital gauge on the control panel, I saw the atmospheric pressure drop 250 millibars while the nitrogen content increased by 20 percent. Without air masks, we would have succumbed to anoxia and fainted from lack of oxygen. The change-out took about five minutes; when it was done, there was another buzz, then the inner hatch revolved open.

  We walked into what had once been the ship’s lounge before it was converted into a cabin suitable for hjadd passengers: a large suite divided into three rooms, two of them serving as private sleeping quarters and the third as a sitting room. At least heshe had furniture, even if it was designed to accommodate hisher shorter legs and longer torso; I noticed that the couch and chair were equipped with safety harnesses. There was even what appeared to be a small galley, no doubt stocked with vegetarian food palatable to the hjadd. If there was a privy, I didn’t see it. Yet other than a porthole, the cabin was spartan, the ceiling rails lending it the same utilitarian appearance as the rest of the ship.

  But the surroundings didn’t catch my attention so much as Jas himherself. Since the Prime Emissary no longer needed to wear hisher environment suit, heshe had changed into a long, togalike robe that looked like silk yet seemed to shimmer with red and purple radiance. Hisher head, resembling that of a turtle only with a short fin on the back of hisher skull, rose from the high collar of hisher robe, while the hands I’d glimpsed earlier were folded together within bell sleeves embroidered with intricate designs.

  “Please, come in,” heshe said. “Make yourselves comfortable.” A six-fingered hand, its talons white against the dark brown of hisher skin, emerged from a sleeve in the gesture of welcome. “I’m afraid I cannot offer refreshment, but I doubt you would enjoy anything that I eat or drink anyway.”

  When Jas spoke, I heard two voices: the familiar one that addressed us in Anglo, which came from the grille of a small device that heshe wore around hisher neck, and the low-pitched series of hisses, croaks, and whistles that matched the movements of hisher mouth. The Prime Emissary didn’t know our language; heshe merely possessed the means to have it translated for himher. The device heshe wore around hisher neck apparently did the trick; a slender prong was suspended in front of hisher lipless mouth, while thin wires led to small caps that covered the membranes on either side of hisher head.

  “No need to apologize.” Rain recovered more quickly than I did; I was getting over my first sight of Jas without hisher environment suit. “Once we reach your world, maybe we will have a chance to sample your cuisine.”

  “Uh…yeah,” I stuttered. “I’d like that a lot, too.” I was at a loss for what else to say. “Umm…nice place you have here.”

  Lame, but Extraterrestrial Diplomacy 101 wasn’t a course I’d taken at the Academy. Whatever I said, though, was apparently enough to tickle hisher funny bone—where that was located, I hadn’t a clue—because it was received by a short, high-pitched hiss. Jas’s heavy-lidded eyes, which bulged from the front of hisher skull, closed slightly.

  “Your people have done well to accommodate us,” heshe replied. “Perhaps we will be able satisfy your curiosity about our food, once we have arrived at Talus qua’spah.”

  I was still getting over the spooky way hisher eyes moved on their own when Jas stepped a little closer. “However,” heshe continued, “our time is short, and you will soon need to return to your duties. Therefore, I will ask the question that I would like to have answered, if you may.”

  “Question?” That startled me. “Ah…yeah, sure, whatever you…”

  Rain’s cough was muffled by her air mask, but I heard it nonetheless. “Of course, Prime Emissary,” she said, interrupting me, “although you’ll have to forgive us if we’re not very helpful. After all, we’re ixnay on the alktay.”

  I caught her meaning and dummied up, hoping that Jas’s translator wasn’t as efficient as it seemed. Apparently it wasn’t up to pig latin, because Jas went quiet for a moment, the fin on hisher head rising ever so slightly. “Yes, certainly,” heshe responded after a second. “I understand. But nonetheless, I’d like to know…are there members of the Order of the Eye aboard this ship?”

  I didn’t have to pretend ignorance. “Sorry. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” I glanced at Rain. “You?”

  “Neither do I.” She shook her head, but something in her expression told me otherwise. “Is that something you’ve heard about on Coyote?”

  Jas’s fin rose a little more, hisher eyes twitching back and forth. “A rumor, perhaps little more,” heshe responded, “yet enough to rouse our interest.” A short pause. “One of your passengers…Gordon Ash…we have reason to believe belongs to this group. Do you know anything of this?”

  “Nope. Nothing at all.” I shrugged, hoping that my lie was convincing. “Just that he drinks a lot, that’s all.”

  “Drinks?” The hjadd’s left eye rotated toward me.

  “He means alcohol. An affliction among my kind.” Rain was about to continue when, from outside the room, we heard four bells, giving us the one-minute warning that the main engine was about to shut down. “We should go,” she said, glancing at her watch. “Many thanks for your hospitality, Prime Emissary.”

  “The pleasure has been mine.” Jas folded hisher hands together and bowed from the waist. “Feel free to visit me again.”

  Neither of us said much to the other as we cycled back through the airlock. The main engine cut off while Rain and I were still inside; we grasped handrails along the walls, and once the atmosphere returned to normal, we removed our air masks and placed them in their compartment. But as soon as we’d left the airlock and moved far enough down the passageway that I was sure Jas couldn’t hear us, I pulled her aside.

  “All right, now,” I said, keeping my voice low. “How about telling me what’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?” Her expression remained neutral.

  “C’mon…you know exactly what I’m talking about.” I nodded in the direction of Jas’s cabin. “This business with the Order of the Eye. You know something I don’t.”

  “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “Ash reads minds.” Her face went pale as I said this, and I went on
. “I don’t know how he does it, but…well, it’s there, and don’t try to pretend that I’m wrong.”

  Rain glanced both ways, as if to make sure that we were alone. “Okay, you’re right,” she replied, her voice little more than a whisper. “Ash is a telepath…or at least strongly empathic. That’s why Morgan brought him along…to verify whatever the hjadd have to say to us, since we still don’t know their language even though they’re able to interpret ours. We’ve tried to keep this from the hjadd, but apparently they’ve already figured it out.”

  Despite the fact that she’d confirmed what I had already suspected, I couldn’t help but feel a chill. “How did Ash learn how to do that? This is…I mean, I’ve never met anyone who…”

  “Not on Earth, no. But lately, a few people on Coyote have developed the ability to read minds…or at least pick up emotions.” She hesitated. “Rumor has it that it comes from long-term exposure to pseudowasps. Supposedly they belong to a cult that calls itself the Order of the Eye.”

  I knew about pseudowasps: a flying insect native to Coyote, its sting contained a venom that produced low-level hallucinations among humans. There were even people who ingested the venom as a recreational drug; some of it had found its way to Earth, where it was sold on the black market. This was the first time that I’d ever heard of its producing telepathic abilities, though. If it hadn’t been for my earlier encounter with Ash, I would have discounted it as hearsay.

  “And Ash belongs to them?” I asked.

  “I’ve heard that the Order got started by someone who used to work for Morgan. That’s how Ash was able to hook up with him…Morgan has been bankrolling them on the sly.” Rain shrugged. “It’s only when Ash is drunk that he can’t hear what’s going on inside other people’s heads. That’s why Morgan had Ted bring along a couple of jugs of bearshine.”

  I’d figured that out already. If Ash was loaded most of the time, he wouldn’t be able to hear the thoughts of everyone else aboard. Even Goldstein wouldn’t want that, except when he wished Ash to do so…say, when he had to negotiate with the hjadd, and therefore wanted to have a level playing field.