Kira hesitated and then nodded, aware of the eyes focused on her. “Yeah.”
The kid’s face brightened. “Cool! Can I touch it?”
“Trig,” said Nielsen in a warning tone. “That’s enough of that.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the kid, and a bright red spot appeared on each of his cheeks. He gave Nielsen a shy, sideways glance and then stuffed the last of his ration bar into the side of his mouth and hopped down from the counter. “You lied to me, Ms. Navárez. You said your friend made the suit.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” said Kira, feeling awkward.
Trig shrugged. “’S okay. I get it.”
Sparrow moved away from the stove. “All yours,” she said to Kira.
As Kira went to get a bowl and spoon, the cat hissed at her and ran to hide under one of the tables. Falconi pointed with his middle finger. “Seems he’s taken a real disliking to you.”
Yes, thank you, Captain Obvious. Scooping meatballs into her bowl, Kira said, “What did the UMC say when you told them we were changing course?”
Falconi shrugged. “Well, they weren’t happy about it, I can tell you that.”
“Neither are our passengers,” said Nielsen, more to him than to Kira. “I just spent half an hour getting yelled at by everyone in the hold. The mood down there is pretty ugly.” The look she gave Kira suggested she blamed her for the trouble.
It wasn’t an unwarranted reaction, in Kira’s opinion.
Falconi picked at his teeth with a nail. “Noted. Gregorovich, make sure you keep a closer eye on them from now on.”
“Yesssssir,” the ship mind answered, his voice unnervingly sibilant.
Kira took her bowl and sat on the nearest free chair, facing the Zarian. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name before,” Kira said.
The Zarian regarded her with a flat expression and then blinked once. “Were you the one who patched the holes at the back of the shuttle?” Her voice was calm and vast.
“I did my best.”
The woman grunted and looked back at her food.
Okay then, Kira thought. So the crew weren’t going to welcome her with open arms. That was fine. She’d been the outsider on most of her postings. Why would it be any different now? She just had to put up with them until Malpert Station. After that, she’d never have to deal with the Wallfish crew again.
Then Trig said, “Hwa is the best machine boss this side of Sol.”
At least the kid seemed friendly.
The Zarian frowned. “Hwa-jung,” she said firmly. “My name is not Hwa.”
“Aww. You know I can’t pronounce it right.”
“Try.”
“Hwa-yoong.”
The machine boss shook her head. Before she could speak again, Sparrow came over and dropped into Hwa-jung’s lap. She leaned back against the larger woman, and Hwa-jung wrapped an arm around her waist in a possessive manner.
Kira raised an eyebrow. “So you pick up heavy things and put them down, huh?” At the other table, she thought she heard a suppressed snort from Falconi.
Sparrow matched her expression, cocking one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “So your hearing works. Good for you.” And she craned her neck to give Hwa-jung a peck on the cheek. The machine boss made a sound, as if annoyed, but Kira saw her lips curve in a small smile.
Kira took the opportunity to start eating. The meatballs were warm and rich, with just the right mixture of thyme, rosemary, salt, and a few other things she couldn’t identify. Were those tomatoes fresh? She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the taste. It had been so long since she’d had anything but dehydrated, pre-packaged food.
“Mmm,” she said. “Who made this?”
Vishal lifted his head. “You like it that much?”
She opened her eyes and nodded.
For a moment, the doctor seemed conflicted, and then a modest smile split his face. “I’m glad. Today was my day to cook.”
Kira smiled back and took another bite. It was the first time she’d felt like smiling since … before.
With a clatter of plates and silverware, Trig switched tables and sat next to her. “Captain said you found the xeno in some ruins on Adrasteia. Alien ruins!”
She swallowed the mouthful of food she was working on. “That’s right.”
Trig nearly bounced on the bench. “What was it like? Do you have any recordings?”
Kira shook her head. “They were on the Valkyrie. But I can tell you.”
“Yes, please!”
Then Kira described how she had found the cradle of the Soft Blade and what it had been like inside. The kid wasn’t the only one listening; she could see the rest of the crew watching as she talked, even those who had heard the story earlier. She tried not to let it make her self-conscious.
When she finished, the kid said, “Wow. The Jellies built stuff really close to us, even way back when, huh?”
Kira hesitated. “Well, maybe.”
Sparrow lifted her head off Hwa-jung’s chest. “Why maybe?”
“Because … the xeno doesn’t seem to like the Jellies very much.” Kira traced a finger across the back of her left hand as she struggled to put dreams into words. “I’m not sure why exactly, but I don’t think the Jellies treated it very well. Also, none of the readings Vishal took of the xeno match what’s published about the Jellies’ biology.”
Vishal put down the cup he’d been about to drink from. “Ms. Navárez is right. I also checked, and nothing else like this is known. At least not according to our current files.”
Nielsen said, “Do you think your suit was made by the same species or civilization that made the Great Beacon?”
“Maybe,” said Kira.
A clink as Falconi tapped his fork against his plate. He shook his head. “That’s a lot of maybes.”
Kira made a noncommittal sound.
Then Trig said, “Hey, Doc, so how’d you manage to miss that she’s covered in an alien skinsuit, huh?”
“Yeah, Doc,” said Sparrow, twisting around to look at Vishal. “Awfully shortsighted of you. Not sure if I should trust you with an exam now.”
Even with the darkness of his skin, Kira could see Vishal flush. “There was no evidence of alien infestation. Even a blood test would not have—”
Trig interrupted: “Maybe some of the flatheads in the hold are actually Jellies in disguise. You’d never know, would you?”
The doctor pressed his lips together, but he didn’t lash out. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on his food and said, “Indeed, Trig. What might I have been missing?”
“Yeah, there could—”
“We know you did your best, Doc,” said Falconi in a firm tone. “No need to feel bad about it. No one would have caught this thing.” Next to him, Kira noticed Nielsen give Vishal a sympathetic glance.
Feeling a bit sorry for the doctor, Kira took the initiative. “So you enjoy cooking?” She held up a spoon with a meatball on it.
After a moment, Vishal nodded, met her gaze. “Yes, yes, very much. But my food is not as good as my mother’s or my sisters’. They put my poor efforts to shame.”
“How many sisters do you have?” she asked, thinking of Isthah.
He held up fingers. “Three sisters, Ms. Navárez, all older.”
After that, an unnatural silence settled over the galley. None of the crew seemed to want to talk while she was there; even Trig kept quiet, although Kira felt sure he was buzzing with a thousand more questions.
It surprised her, then, when Nielsen said, “I hear you come from Weyland, Ms. Navárez.” Her tone was more formal than that of the rest of the crew; Kira didn’t recognize her accent.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Do you have family there?”
“Some, although it’s been a while since I visited.” Kira decided to take a chance and ask a question of her own: “Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Nielsen wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Here and there.”<
br />
“She’s from Venus!” Trig blurted out, eyes shining. “One of the biggest cloud cities!”
Nielsen pressed her lips together in a flat line. “Yes, thank you, Trig.”
The kid seemed to realize he’d screwed up. His face dropped, and he fixed his gaze on his bowl. “I mean,” he muttered, “… I don’t really know or anything, so…”
Kira studied the first officer. Venus was nearly as rich as Earth. Not too many folks from there went wandering around outside Sol, and certainly not in a dinky rust bucket like the Wallfish. “Are the cities as impressive as they appear in vids?”
For a moment Nielsen looked as if she wouldn’t answer. Then, in a clipped tone, she said, “You get used to it.… But yes.”
Kira had always wanted to visit the floating cities. Just another life goal the Soft Blade had put out of reach. If only—
An excited squeal distracted her as Runcible trotted into the galley. The pig ran straight to Falconi and leaned against the side of his leg.
Nielsen made an exasperated sound. “Who left the latch on his cage loose again?”
“That would be me, boss lady,” said Sparrow, raising her hand.
“He just wants to be with us. Don’t you now?” said Falconi, and he scratched the pig behind the ears. The pig lifted his snout, eyes half-closed in an expression of bliss.
“What he wants is our food,” said Nielsen. “Captain, it really isn’t appropriate to have him here. A pig doesn’t belong in the galley.”
“Not unless it’s as bacon,” said Hwa-jung.
“There’ll be no talking of bacon around Runcible,” said Falconi. “He’s part of the crew, same as Mr. Fuzzypants, and they get the same rights as any of you. That includes access to the galley. Is that clear?”
Hwa-jung said, “Clear, Captain.”
“It’s still not hygienic,” said Nielsen. “What if he goes to the bathroom again?”
“He’s a well-trained pig now. He would never embarrass himself like before. Would you, Runcible?” The pig snorted happily.
“If you say so, Captain. It still feels wrong. What if we’re eating ham or pork—” Falconi gave her a look, and she raised her hands. “Just saying, Captain. Seems a bit like, like…”
“Cannibalism,” said Trig.
“Yes, thank you. Cannibalism.”
The kid seemed pleased Nielsen agreed with him. A slight flush crept up his neck, and he stared at his plate while fighting back a grin. Kira hid a smile of her own.
Falconi took a bit of food off his plate and gave it to the pig, who gratefully snapped it up. “Last I checked, we have no, ah, porcine products on the ship, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s a moot point.”
“Moot point.” Nielsen shook her head. “I give up. Arguing with you is like arguing with a wall.”
“A very handsome wall.”
As the two of them continued to bicker, Kira looked over at Vishal and said, “What’s with the pig? Is it new?”
The doctor shook his head. “We’ve had him on board six months, not counting cryo. The captain picked him up on Eidolon. They’ve been arguing about him ever since.”
“But why a pig?”
“You would have to ask the captain that yourself, Ms. We have no more an idea than you. It’s a mystery of the universe.”
6.
The rest of the meal passed in an awkward semblance of normalcy. They didn’t say anything more serious than “Pass the salt.” or “Where’s the trash?” or “Get Runcible his dish.” Terse, utilitarian exchanges that served only to make Kira aware of how out of place she was.
Normally dinner was when she would pull out her concertina and play a few rounds to break the ice. Buy some drinks, smack down the clumsy attempts to hit on her—unless she was in a mood. The usual, before Alan. But here it didn’t matter; she’d be off the Wallfish by the end of next day, and then she wouldn’t have to worry about Falconi and the rest of his ragtag crew.
Kira had just emptied her bowl and was taking it back to the sink when a short, loud beep sounded. It froze them in place, and everyone’s eyes grew hazy as they focused on their overlays.
Kira glanced at her own but saw no alerts. “What is it?” she asked, noting the sudden tension in Falconi’s posture.
Sparrow was the one who answered: “Jellies. Four more of them, heading for Malpert Station.”
“ETA?” Kira asked, dreading the answer.
Falconi’s eyes cleared as he looked at her. “Noon tomorrow.”
CHAPTER IV
KRIEGSSPIEL
1.
Four blinking red dots arrowed across the system toward Malpert Station. A set of dotted lines—bright green—showed their calculated trajectory.
Tapping her overlays, Kira zoomed in on the station. It was a disorganized pile of sensors, domes, docking bays, and radiators built around a hollowed-out asteroid. Embedded within the rock (barely visible from the outside) was a rotating hab-ring where most of the station citizens lived.
Next to Malpert, some kilometers away, was a Hydrotek refueling platform.
Ships swarmed around the two structures. A different icon marked each ship: civilians in blue, military vessels in gold. Without closing her overlays, Kira said, “Can they stop the Jellies?”
On the other side of the translucent overlays, Falconi frowned. “Not sure. The Darmstadt is their only real firepower. The rest of the ships are just locals. PDF cutters and the like.”
“PDF?”
“Planetary Defense Force.”
Sparrow clicked her tongue. “Yeah, but those Jelly ships are the small ones. Naru-class.”
To Kira, Trig said: “The Naru-class ships only carry three squids, two or three crawlers, and about the same number of snappers. ’Course, some of ’em have heavy crabs as well.”
“Sure they do,” said Sparrow with a humorless smirk.
Vishal chimed in: “And that before they start turning out reinforcements from their birthing pods.”
“Birthing pods?” Kira asked, feeling totally out of the loop.
Hwa-jung answered: “They have machines that let them grow new fighters.”
“I … I didn’t see anything about that in the news,” said Kira.
Falconi grunted. “The League has been keeping it under wraps to avoid scaring people, but we caught wind of it a few weeks ago.”
The concept of a birthing pod seemed dimly familiar to Kira, as a half-forgotten memory. If only she could get her hands on a Jelly computer! The things she could learn!
Sparrow said, “The Jellies must be pretty confident if they think they can take out Malpert and the Darmstadt with just those four ships.”
“Don’t count out the miners,” said Trig. “They’ve got plenty of weapons, and they won’t run. Swear to god they won’t.”
Kira gave him a questioning look, and the kid shrugged. “I grew up on Undset Station, over at Cygni B. I know ’em. Those space rats are tough as titanium.”
“Yeah, well,” said Sparrow, “they ain’t going to be fighting no half-starved jackers this time.”
Nielsen stirred. “Captain,” she said, “we still have time to change course.”
Kira cleared her overlays in order to better see Falconi’s face. He appeared distracted as he studied screens she couldn’t see. “Not sure it would make any difference,” he murmured. He tapped a button on the kitchen wall, and a holo of 61 Cygni appeared suspended in the air. He pointed at the red dots that marked the Jellies. “Even if we turn tail and run, there’s no way we can escape them.”
“No, but if we put some distance between us and them, they might decide the chase isn’t worth the effort,” said Nielsen. “It’s always worked before.”
Falconi made a face. “We’ve already burned through a good chunk of hydrogen. Getting to Ruslan now would be dicey. We’d have to coast at least half the distance. Would be sitting ducks the whole time.” He scratched his chin, eyes still fixed on the holo.
Sparrow said,
“What are you thinking, Captain?
“We let the Wallfish live up to its name,” he said. He highlighted an asteroid some distance from Malpert Station. “Here. There’s an extraction outfit on this asteroid—asteroid TSX-Two-Two-One-Two. Says there’s a hab-dome, refueling tanks, the whole lot. We can cozy up to the asteroid and wait until the fighting is over. If the Jellies decide to come after us, we’d have tunnels to hide in. As long as they don’t drop a nuke on us or something like that, we’d at least have a chance.”
On her overlays, Kira looked up the definition of wallfish. Apparently it was A regional term for “snail” in the country of Britain on Earth; presumably of Anglo-Saxon origin. She eyed Falconi, again thrown askance by his sense of humor. He’d named his ship the Snail?
The crew continued debating possibilities, while Kira sat and thought.
Then she went to Falconi and bent close to his ear. “Can I talk with you for a moment?”
He barely glanced at her. “What?”
“Outside.” She motioned toward the door.
Falconi hesitated, and then to Kira’s surprise, shoved himself out of his chair. “Be right back,” he said, and followed her out of the galley.
Kira turned on him. “You have to get me onto one of those Jelly ships.”
The look of incredulousness on the captain’s face was nearly worth everything she’d gone through. “Nope. Not going to happen,” he said, and started back in.
She caught his arm, stopping him. “Wait. Hear me out.”
“Get your hand off me before I remove it for you,” he said with an unfriendly expression.
Kira let go. “Look, I’m not asking you to charge in guns blazing. You said the UMC has a chance of fighting off the Jellies.” He nodded, reluctant. “If they disable one of the Jelly ships—if—you could get me on it.”
“You’re crazy,” Falconi said, still half in the doorway of the galley.
“I’m determined. There’s a difference. I told you; I need to get onto one of the Jellies’ ships. If I can, I might be able figure out why they’re attacking us, what they’re saying over their comms, all sorts of stuff. Just think of the possibilities.” She could still see reluctance on Falconi’s face, so she kept talking: “Look, you’ve been flying around the system right under the Jellies’ noses or whatever the hell they use to smell. That means you’re either stupid or you’re desperate, and you might be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.”
To Sleep in a Sea of Stars Page 22