Galaxy Blues

by Allen Steele

  “So, what does his little mistake tell you about his reliability? Sure, he may be able to dig into people’s brains…but for him to stay sane, he has to drink. And you should know better than to trust whatever a drunk tells you.”

  “Yes, well…I’ll be having some words with Mr. Ash once he wakes up. For now, my primary concern is with you.” Morgan paused. “I’m afraid I’ve had to reconsider the terms of our arrangement, Mr. Truffaut. Once our business here is concluded, I won’t be needing you any longer.”

  “You mean, I’m fired.”

  “Consider it a termination of contract, effective once we’ve returned to Coyote. You’ll be paid for services rendered, of course…but you will no longer be employed by Janus, which means that you will no longer be eligible for its benefits.”

  It took me a second to realize what he meant by that. The fact that I’d be evicted from my room at the Soldier’s Joy was the least of my problems. More important was the fact that Morgan had posted bail for me, with his lawyer seeing to it that my court case had been remanded to a future date. While I was working for him, it was doubtful that the magistrates would ever take serious legal action against me. But once I was no longer a Janus employee, I wouldn’t have that protection…and the next time I showed up in court, the maggies would have fresh meat to barbecue.

  “You son of a bitch,” I murmured. “You know what that’s going to do to me.”

  A cold smile stole across Morgan’s face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied, then he turned around in his chair to pick up some papers from his desk. “That’s all. You may leave now.”

  My legs felt rubbery as I turned toward the door. “Oh, and one more thing,” Morgan added. “Please remember that we’ve been invited to a reception this evening.” He looked up at me again. “And you are expected to attend…I think the hjadd would consider it rude if any of our party were absent.”

  I should’ve said something about his own lack of manners, but this was one of those moments when your brain can’t find the right words. “Please don’t slam the door on the way out,” Morgan said as I left the room.

  Screw him. I slammed it anyway.

  ( THIRTEEN )

  Weird food…

  feeling kind of ethereal…

  party with the aliens…

  a momentary lapse of reason.

  VI

  I went back to my room and lay down again but this time didn’t even try to take a nap. All I could do was stare at the ceiling. My mind was a blank, save for an elaborate daydream about somehow luring Morgan into the Pride’s airlock and giving him the heave-ho. For a revenge fantasy, it was rather satisfying, but out of the question. The Talus would probably object to us mucking up their space colony with our garbage.

  After a long while, I sighed and got out of bed. Nothing I could do now except try to get along as best I could for the rest of the trip. At least I’d met the hjadd. It’d give me something to talk about with my fellow prison inmates once I was deported back to Earth.

  When I left my room, I saw that everyone had gathered around the table where we’d been having our meals. Everyone except Morgan and Ash, that is; Goldstein’s door was still closed, and I noticed that Ash was missing from the couch where he’d passed out a few hours earlier. The others gave me wary looks as I came downstairs; I didn’t have to ask to know that they’d already learned that I’d been canned.

  Ted confirmed this by offering an apologetic hand. “Heard about what happened,” he said quietly. “I’m really sorry. Morgan shouldn’t have done that to you.”

  “Yeah, well…guess he needs a scapegoat.” I was glad to get whatever sympathy I could just then. “Would it be too much to ask if you could put in a good word for me?”

  “I could, but”—a helpless shrug—“it wouldn’t make much difference. Once he makes up his mind, he seldom changes it.”

  Emily walked over to join us. “Anyway, you may not be the only one who’s going to be looking for another job.” She cautiously glanced up at the gallery, making sure that we weren’t being overheard. “When we talked to him a little while ago, he said something about putting our contracts under review. My guess is that, after this run, he’s going to replace us with another crew…probably from Earth.”

  I stared at her. “What for? You guys haven’t done anything.”

  “Like you said…he’s looking for scapegoats.” A scowl crept across her face. “So far as he’s concerned, this trip has been a complete bust, and Morgan’s the kind of person who blames anyone but himself. Besides, he has to tell his investors something, so…”

  I felt a soft hand on my arm and looked around to find Rain standing beside me. She didn’t say anything, nor did she have to; the look in her eyes was sufficient. For a brief instant, I was almost angry with her—despite what Emily said, Rain was the last person Morgan would fire, if only because of reasons of patronage—but it quickly passed. Rain had nothing to do with any of this; the fact that she was sympathetic at all toward me showed just how far our relationship had come in such a short time.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, and she forced a smile and nodded. At loss for words, I glanced over at the table. “So…what’s going on here? Coffee break?”

  “Something like that.” Doc stepped aside to let me look. “Although I don’t think anything here would qualify as coffee.”

  Spread out across the table were an assortment of platters, plates, and bowls, each containing food of some variety or another. One bowl held something that looked like blue seaweed; another was filled with a murky black porridge. Limp green vegetables that resembled overcooked bean sprouts were piled upon a platter; next to it was a plate of small brown cubes a little like rice cakes. In the middle of the table was a bottle filled with some reddish gold liquid that might have been maple syrup.

  “Dinner?” I bent over the black porridge, inspected it a little more closely. It smelled vile, and the chunky stuff floating around in it didn’t look very appetizing, either.

  “Uh-huh.” Doc picked up the bottle, experimentally tilted it back and forth. “Fah and a couple of hjadds delivered it while you were napping…along with a few other things. Heshe said that since we wouldn’t be able to eat at the reception along with everyone else, we were being served dinner in advance.” Twisting open the cap, he reached for a nearby glass. “Must be the local brew. Might as well try it out…”

  “Might as well not.” Ted hurried over to take the bottle away from him. “We have no idea whether any of this is edible or not. And since we don’t have a physician aboard…”

  “Oh, c’mon.” Doc raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You don’t seriously think they’d try to poison us, do you?”

  “No, but…”

  “He’s right.” Rain eyed a plate of something that looked like rancid cabbage. “I wouldn’t eat this stuff if you held a gun to my head.”

  I picked up one of the cakes. It had a granular texture and a nice, spicy odor; I was greatly tempted to have a bite. “I dunno. If we don’t at least try some of it, they might take offense…”

  “Put it down, Jules. That’s an order.” Ted frowned at me. “This is your fault, you know. If you hadn’t told Jas you’d like to sample their cuisine…”

  “Hey, I was just trying to be polite.” I reluctantly put the cake back on the plate. “How was I to know that heshe would take me seriously?”

  “Yes, well…even so, the last thing we need now is to have someone come down with food poisoning.” Emily sighed. “If they ask, we’ll just have to tell a little white lie and say that we enjoyed it very much.” She paused. “Maybe I’ll dump some of it down the toilet, to make it look like we’ve eaten.”

  “That might work. As for now”—Ted pointed to the other side of the table—“we’ve been brought our evening clothes. Those, at least, I know we can wear…so long as we’re careful.”

  Stacked upon the table were several off-white bundles; on top of each was what appeared to be a
small plastic air mask. Rain picked up one of the bundles; as she unfolded it, we saw that it was a long, white robe, similar to the one Ash wore except without a hood, with intricate patterns stitched across its thick, plush fabric. “What is this, anyway?” she asked, holding it up against her. “We’re supposed to put these on?”

  “It’s called a sha,” Emily replied. “Ted and I were given ones just like these the first time we were here. Consider it an honor…apparently they have some ceremonial significance.”

  “Okay, but what do you mean by being careful?” So far as I could tell, they were no more menacing than the outfits Rain and I had worn after we’d gone through decontamination.

  “They’re sensitive to electrodermal charges from the skin…see?” To demonstrate, Emily took the sha Rain had opened and slipped it on over her clothes. Rolling back a sleeve of her work shirt, she allowed the sha’s bell sleeve to rest against her forearm. A moment passed, then its whorl-like patterns turned a pale shade of yellow. “That means I’m calm, but if I get angry”—she closed her eyes and concentrated, and the pattern became black—“the sha shows that, too.”

  “Oh, great.” Doc shook his head. “That means we have to make sure no one gets pissed off.”

  “It’s not so bad,” Emily added. “They’re really quite comfortable. I’ve found that if you have a T-shirt and knickers on underneath, it mitigates the sensitivity a bit. So long as you keep control of your emotions, you’ll be fine.”

  “And what if we decide to come as we are?”

  “Can’t do that.” Ted let out his breath. “Maybe we can get away without eating the food they’ve offered us, but showing up without these will definitely be considered rude. Sorry, but that’s the way it is.” He picked up one of the air masks. “Fah told us these contain translators. You activate them by touching this little button.” He pointed to a small stud recessed within one side of the mask. “No one uses it unless they have to, though, right? Just let me do the talking.”

  Doc regarded the mask with suspicion. “They definitely have a low tolerance for cultural differences, don’t they?”

  “I just don’t want any misunderstandings, that’s all.” Ted glanced at his watch. “We’re expected in about an hour or so. Everyone go change, and we’ll meet back here.”

  “And then what?” I asked.

  “Then we’re off to the party.” Ted grinned. “Don’t worry. Remember, we’re the guests of honor. What could go wrong?”

  VII

  Taking the sha and air mask under my arm, I went back up to my room and put them on. It felt like I was wearing a bathrobe, but once I tied its sash in place and hung the air mask around my neck, the sha was pleasantly warm, its patterns taking on a subtle yellow glow. When I experimented a little by recalling my earlier fantasy about pitching Morgan through an airlock, though, they gradually turned black. All right, then: no more nasty thoughts about the boss, or at least until I was back in my own duds.

  I was the first person to return to the library. The others were still in their rooms. In hindsight, I realized that perhaps I should have taken a bath. Too late for that, though; I’d just have to wait for everyone else. So I puttered around the room, looking at the lithographs on the walls while trying to ignore the growling in my stomach. Perhaps I could make a sandwich…

  My gaze fell upon the food the hjadd had brought us. Emily had left some sandwiches on the table, but hadn’t yet disposed of the alien repast. The porridge still looked obscene, and I’ve always disliked cabbage and bean sprouts regardless of their color, but the cakes were awfully tempting. I picked one up, peered at it closely. It appeared no more sinister than a chocolate brownie, and it smelled positively delicious.

  What the hell. I was hungry, and I was tired of sandwiches. I took a tentative nibble of the cake; it had a satisfying crunch, and tasted like gingerbread spiced with nutmeg, albeit with a strong herbal aftertaste. I swallowed, waited to see what would happen next. When I didn’t have an urge to vomit, I glanced up at the gallery to make sure that no one was watching, then ate the rest. And then, simply because I wanted to, I helped myself to another.

  I was on my third cake when a door upstairs opened and shut. I stuffed the rest of it in my mouth and chewed as fast as I could. I’d just wiped the incriminating crumbs from the corners of my mouth when Ash came downstairs. He must have slept off the booze because he didn’t stumble on the way down. He stopped at the bottom of the steps, regarded me with curious eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. Just waiting for everyone to show up.” I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a sha, but instead his own robe. “Didn’t you get one of these?” I asked, plucking at the sleeve of my outfit.

  “Yeah, but I’m not putting it on.” He didn’t bother to explain why but instead continued to study me. “You’re feeling guilty about something. What is it?”

  I stepped away from the table, hoping that he wouldn’t subject me to a deep probe. The patterns of my robe had turned red, though; I tried to make the color go away by thinking about something else. “Don’t worry about it. How did things go with Morgan?”

  “Did he fire me, too, you mean?” Ash shook his head. “He’s not going to do that…not so long as I belong to the Order. We’ve got too much on him.” A cynical smile that quickly faded. “Sorry I got you into trouble. That wasn’t my intention.”

  “Nah. Don’t worry about it.” For some reason, I wasn’t as angry as I had been. Indeed, I’d come to accept my situation as inevitable. “Would’ve happened sooner or later, I guess.”

  “Hmm…yes, if you say so.” Ash’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah. I’m great.” Although I wished he hadn’t interrupted me when he did. Those cakes were pretty good; I could have used another one.

  He was about to say something else when another door opened and shut. A moment later, Morgan came downstairs, tying the sash of his robe around himself. When he saw Ash and me, his sha’s patterns turned dark brown; he avoided looking at either of us, though, but instead marched over to the fireplace, where he stood with his back to us. He shouldn’t have been so nervous; any animosity I’d felt toward him had disappeared, replaced instead by a vague sense of amusement. Hard to believe that I’d once respected him; in fact, I couldn’t help but think that he looked like nothing more than a fat old guy in a hotel bathrobe.

  It wasn’t long before the rest of our group joined us. As I thought, both Rain and Emily had taken baths. Rain’s hair was still a little wet, but that only seemed to add to her sensuality. For the first time, I truly realized what a sexy creature she was and how much I’d love to get beneath that robe of hers. There must have been a certain look in my eyes, for when she turned my way a blush appeared on her face that matched the color of her sha. Yeah, she knew what I was thinking…and so what? I was a red-blooded, heterosexual male, and proud of it.

  Meanwhile, Emily had walked over to the table. She glanced at the platter holding the spice cakes, and I wondered whether she’d notice that two or three were missing. Perhaps she did, because she turned to Ted. Before she could say anything, though, Fah suddenly materialized.

  “Are you ready?” heshe asked no one in particular.

  Ted glanced at the rest of us, making sure we were all present. “Yes, we are. Where should we go?”

  “The tram will transport you to the Great Hall.” Fah raised a hand toward the door, which opened on its own. “Please board it at your earliest convenience. We are waiting for you.”

  We walked down the corridor to the tram station, where we found a car parked at the platform, its canopy already open. As I climbed into a rear seat, I had a sudden urge to invite Rain to sit in my lap. No need for that, of course; there was plenty of room for all of us. So I shut my mouth and kept my horny little hands to myself, and instead pulled the safety bar into place.

  I’d been aboard the tram enough times already that the trip should have been familiar, but
on this occasion we didn’t return to our ship but instead were transported deeper into Talus qua’spah. As the car shot through the tubes, taking one sharp turn after another, I found myself staring at the vast habitat as if seeing it for the first time. All those lights, their colors blurring together as if caught in a kaleidoscope, fascinated me as never before; I stared at them in amazement, feeling like a kid riding the best roller coaster in the universe. At one point I laughed out loud, an unself-conscious expression of childish delight that caused Rain to glance back at me in puzzlement.

  The car took a long, spiraling turn, then hurtled straight toward an enormous sphere. A couple of thousand feet in diameter, lights gleamed from hundreds of windows along its sides, while dozens of tramways converged upon its equator. I was still gaping at it as the car began to decelerate; it entered a portal and glided to a halt at a station identical to the ones we’d visited before.

  “Welcome to Talus caan-saah,” a disembodied voice said as we disembarked from the tram. “The door to your right leads to an airlock.” Right on cue, the sphincter door swirled open, revealing a small anteroom. “At this point, you will need to put on your breathing apparatus.”

  The door irised shut behind us, and we took a moment to fit the air masks over the lower parts of our faces. So far as I could tell, they didn’t contain their own air supply, but instead reduced the nitrogen of the ambient atmosphere while boosting the oxygen levels and removing carbon dioxide. They were obviously designed to be idiot-proof, yet even so, I struggled to adjust the elastic straps. For some reason, my fingers felt thick and clumsy, the straps frustratingly complicated; long after everyone else had theirs in place, I was still trying to get mine to fit correctly, until Ted finally stepped over to give me a hand.

  “You’re in a silly way tonight,” he murmured, untwisting the straps from where I’d tangled them behind my head. “What did you do, sneak off with Ash’s booze?”

  I didn’t know how to answer that, so I simply shrugged as I suppressed the crazy giggle that wanted to rise from my throat. Ash stared at me, his expression unfathomable behind his own mask, but I couldn’t have cared less what he or Ted or anyone else thought. I was having the time of my life.