She smirked. Falconi wouldn’t be too pleased when he found out about her cabin. Hwa-jung too, and Gregorovich, if the ship mind ever returned to his normal self.
Kira assumed they had arrived, but the Wallfish still seemed quieter than it should. She tried pulling up her overlays, but as with each of the last two FTL trips, the Soft Blade had absorbed her contacts. She wasn’t sure at what point exactly, but it must have happened sometime during her dreaming hibernation. Frustrated, she muttered, “When are you going to learn?”
Kira was about to head to the storm shelter, to check on the crew, when the intercom crackled and Falconi’s voice emanated from a speaker by her head: “Kira, come see me in Control once you’re up.” He sounded rough, real rough, as if he’d just been puking.
Kira swung by the galley to get herself a pouch of heated chell before heading toward the front of the ship.
As the pressure door to Control swung open with a squeal of protest, Falconi glanced up from the holo-display. His skin was an unpleasant grey, the whites of his eyes were tinged yellow, and he was shivering and chattering as if it were nearly freezing. All the classic signs of cryo sickness.
“Thule,” said Kira, kicking herself over to him. “Here, you need this more than me.” She shoved the packet of chell into his hands.
“Thanks,” said Falconi from between gritted teeth.
“Bad reaction, huh?”
He ducked his head. “Yeah. It’s been getting worse the last few jumps. I don’t think my body likes the chemicals we’ve been using. Have to talk with…” He shivered so hard his teeth clattered. “… have to talk with the doc about it.”
“How are you going to get back?” Kira asked. Going to one of the emergency stations along the wall, she fetched a thermal blanket and brought it to him.
Falconi didn’t resist as she wrapped it around his shoulders. “I’ll survive,” he said with a certain amount of grim humor.
“I’m sure you will,” she said dryly. Then she glanced around the empty room. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Didn’t see any reason to wake them up if they just had to go back into cryo.” Falconi tightened the blanket around himself. “No reason to make them go through this any more times than necessary.”
Kira pulled herself into the seat next to him and strapped herself in. “Have you sent the warning yet?”
He shook his head. “Waiting for Itari. I gave the Jelly a buzz on the intercom. Should be up here before too long.” Falconi gave her a sideways glance. “How about you? All good?”
“All good. But, there’s something you should know.…” Then Kira told him about what she and the Soft Blade had done.
Falconi made an exasperated sound. “Did you really have to start disassembling my ship?”
“Yeah, we did,” she said. “Sorry. It was just a little bit.”
He grunted. “Great. Do we have to worry about it wrecking the rest of the Wallfish?”
“No,” said Kira. “Not unless something happens to me, but even then I don’t think it would do anything to the ship.”
Falconi cocked his head. “So what would the Soft Blade do if you die?”
“I … I’m not sure. I’d guess it would return to its dormant state, the way it was on Adrasteia. That or it would try to bond with someone else.”
“Mmm. Well, that’s not alarming in the slightest.” Falconi took another sip of chell and then gave it back to her. The grey in his cheeks was beginning to fade, replaced by a more healthy color.
As he had predicted, Itari arrived in Control soon after, pieces of its hibernation cocoon still clinging to its many limbs. Kira was impressed to see that the Jelly had regrown most of the tentacle it had cut off during their escape from Orsted (although the replacement was still shorter and thinner than the rest of its siblings).
[[Itari here: How moves the water?]]
She answered as was right and proper: [[Kira here: The water is still.… We are ready to send farscent warning to the Knot of Minds.]]
[[Itari here: Then let us not waste the rightness of time.]]
2.
Transmitting the signal turned out to be more of a hassle than Kira expected. She had to teach Itari how the Wallfish’s FTL comms worked, and the Jelly had to explain—with great difficulty and much backtracking—how to broadcast and encode the message in such a way that the Knot of Minds would not only notice but understand the warning. Lacking the Jelly machine that converted their scents to signals, Kira had to translate Itari’s words—if words was even the right term—into English, in the hope that the Knot would bother translating.
After several hours of work, the warning went out, and Falconi said, “There, it’s done.”
“Now we wait,” said Kira.
It would take half a day for the warning to reach the proposed rendezvous spot—which itself was within a few days’ travel of Cordova-1420, the system where the Jellies were building their fleet—and half a day to receive any answer back. “Any chance that the UMC’s hunters might intercept the signal?” Kira asked.
“Eh,” said Falconi. “There’s a chance, but it’s literally astronomical.”
3.
For the rest of the day, Kira helped Falconi run diagnostics throughout the Wallfish as he checked on the systems necessary for the smooth functioning of the ship. Air duct filters needed to be cleaned, water lines flushed, the fusion drive test fired, computers restarted, and outside sensors replaced, along with all the many little and not-so-little tasks that made survival in space possible.
Falconi didn’t ask for help, but Kira had never been one to sit around when work needed doing. Besides, she could tell he was still suffering from the aftereffects of cryo. She’d only had one bad reaction herself, during her second trip out for the Lapsang Corporation. An error in the cryo tube had resulted in her receiving a slightly higher dose of one of the sedatives. Even that small difference had been enough to keep her in the bathroom, puking her guts out, the whole time she’d been on mission. That had been fun.
So she had sympathy for Falconi’s distress, although in his case, it seemed worse than just an adverse reaction to some sedative. He appeared genuinely ill. Cryo sickness would fade in time—that she knew—but he might not have very long to recover before they would have to start back for the League. And that worried Kira.
Aside from the usual maintenance required, the Wallfish was in generally good shape. The most serious repair that required their attention was a faulty pressure seal in the port cargo hold, but even that was easily dealt with.
Throughout it all, Kira could still feel the contents of her cabin—the black armor the Soft Blade had built upon the walls. She even took Falconi to see what she and the xeno had built. He poked his head in long enough to glance around and then backed out. “Nope,” he said. “No offense, Kira, but nope.”
“None taken,” she said with a grin. She still hadn’t forgotten about their kiss, but she didn’t see a reason to bring it up now. In any case, Falconi wasn’t in any shape for that sort of a conversation.
Following a quiet evening, she and Falconi retired to their respective cabins (and Itari to the cargo hold) for the night. The black casing that now covered Kira’s room made it feel heavy, ominous. But safe too—there was that—and the vines and flowers helped mitigate the heaviness. She worried about the air vents being blocked, but then she realized the Soft Blade would surely see to it that she had enough oxygen to keep from suffocating.
“I’m back,” she whispered, running a hand along the ridged wall.
The wall shivered slightly, like skin crinkling in the cold. And Kira smiled a small smile, feeling an unexpected sense of pride. The room was hers and hers alone, and although it was mostly the work of the Soft Blade, the growth was still a part of her, birthed from her mind, if not her flesh.
And she remembered the dream she’d had during her long sleep. “You were trying to protect me, weren’t you?” she said, somewhat louder than before.
The greenish lights in the room seemed to pulse in response, but so faintly that it was hard to be sure. Feeling more comfortable, she moved to the bed and secured herself to sleep.
4.
Late next morning, over twenty-four hours after they had emerged from FTL, Kira and Falconi gathered in the galley to wait for the possible reply from the Knot of Minds. Itari joined them, taking up a position atop one of the two tables. The Jelly held itself in place with the small grasping arms that unfolded from its carapace.
Falconi was lost in his overlays, and Kira was watching a vid—one of the newscasts the Wallfish had picked up before leaving Sol—on the holo-display built into the table. The vid wasn’t very interesting, so after a few minutes, she turned it off and fell to studying the Jelly across the room.
The dusky, autumn colors of Itari’s tentacles were solid now, unshifting, though that would change were its emotions to rise. Kira found it interesting that the Jellies not only had emotions, but that they weren’t entirely alien to her. Perhaps, she thought, they were easier for her to understand because of the Soft Blade’s time spent joined with the graspers.
Graspers … Even in the small moments the xeno was inside her mind, it shaded her thoughts with meanings from another era. Once that had bothered Kira. Now she acknowledged and accepted the fact without judgment. She was the one who would decide the worth of things, not the xeno, no matter how strongly she felt its inherited memories.
A continuous cloud of scents emanated from the Jelly. At the moment, they were subdued—just a general I am here, like a low hum in the background—interspersed with an occasional spike of interest-driven odor, spicy and somewhat unpleasant.
Kira wondered what the Jelly was doing, whether it had implants of its own or if it was just thinking and remembering.
[[Kira here: Tell me of your shoal, Itari.]]
[[Itari here: What shoal do you mean, Idealis? My hatching? My co-forms? My Arm? There are many kinds of shoals. Does not the Idealis tell you of these things?]]
The Jelly’s question was close enough to her own ruminations, it gave her pause. [[Kira here: Yes, but as through muddy water. Tell me, where were you hatched? How were you raised?]]
[[Itari here: I was hatched in a clutching pool near the shore of High Lfarr. It was a warm place with much light and much food. When I was grown to my third-form, I was given to this current form, which is how I have served ever since.]]
[[Kira here: Did you have no choice as to your form?]]
Scent of puzzlement from the Jelly. [[Itari: Why would I have a choice? What choice is there?]]
[[Kira here: I mean … what did you wish to do?]]
The puzzlement deepened. [[Itari here: Why would that matter? This form was how best I could serve my Arm. What else would there be to do?]]
[[Kira here: Do you not have any desires of your own?]]
[[Itari here: Of course. To serve my Arm and the Wranaui as a whole.]]
[[Kira here: But you have your own ideas of how best to do that, yes? You do not agree with all Wranaui about the course of this … ripple.]]
A gentle flush crept down the Jelly’s limbs. [[Itari here: There are many solutions to the same problem, but the goal itself does not shift.]]
She decided to try a different tack. [[Kira here: If you did not have to serve, what would you do? If the Arms did not exist and there were no one to tell you how to spend your time?]]
[[Itari here: Then it would fall to me to rebuild our race. I would shift forms and spawn hatchlings every moment of the day until our strength was returned.]]
Kira released a small hiss of frustration, loud enough that Falconi noticed. “You talking with that thing?” he asked, nodding toward Itari.
“Yeah, but not really getting anywhere.”
“I’m sure it feels the same about you.”
Kira grunted. He wasn’t wrong. She was trying to communicate with an alien species. Just talking to a human from another city, much less another planet, could be nigh on impossible. Why should it be any easier with an alien? She felt like she had to try, though. If they were going to be dealing with the Jellies on a regular basis in the future, then she wanted to have some sense of what was important to them (outside of the memories from the Soft Blade).
[[Kira here: Answer me this: What do you do when there is nothing that needs doing? You cannot work all the time. No creature can.]]
[[Itari here: I rest. I contemplate my future actions. I honor the acts of the Vanished. If I have the chance, I swim.]]
[[Kira here: Do you play?]]
[[Itari here: Play is for first- and second-forms.]]
There was a curious lack of imagination to the Jellies that Kira found odd. How had they managed to build an interstellar civilization when they didn’t seem driven to dream the way humans so often were? The technology they had scavenged from the Vanished couldn’t have helped that much. Or had it?… She warned herself against making human-centric judgments. After all, the Jelly the Soft Blade had been joined with—Shoal Leader Nmarhl—had shown plenty of initiative during its time. Perhaps she was failing to understand a linguistic or cultural difference between her and Itari.
[[Kira here: What do the Wranaui want, Itari?]]
[[Itari here: To live, to eat, to spread to all friendly waters. In that, we are the same as you, two-form.]]
[[Kira here: And what are the Wranaui? What is the heart of your nature?]]
[[Itari here: We are what we are.]]
[[Kira here: The Idealis calls you graspers. Why would it think that?]]
The Jelly’s tentacles rubbed over themselves. [[Itari here: Because we have taken up the sacred pieces the Vanished left behind. Because what we can hold, we hold tight. Because each Arm must do as it sees fit.]]
[[Kira here: The Vanished were on your homeworld, were they not?]]
[[Itari here: Yes. We found their works on the land and deep in the Abyssal Plain.]]
[[Kira here: So there is solid land on your planet?]]
[[Itari here: Some, but less than most.]]
[[Kira here: What level of technology did the Wranaui have before finding the works of the Vanished?]]
[[Itari here: We had learned how to smelt metal by the heated vents in our oceans, but there was much that was beyond us by reason of our life under the water. It was only by the grace of the Vanished that we were able to expand beyond the vergeal depths.]]
[[Kira here: I see.]]
She continued to question the Jelly, trying to suss out what she could of its species and civilization, but too many areas of confusion remained for her to make much progress. The more she talked with Itari, the more Kira realized just how different their two kinds really were—and the differences went far beyond the already vast physical disparities.
It was nearing midnight ship time, and Falconi was picking up in the galley in preparation for retiring, when a tone sounded and Morven said, “Captain, incoming transmission.”
5.
An electric tingle crawled down Kira’s spine. Now maybe they would have a sense of what was going to happen—of where to go and what to do.
“On screen,” said Falconi, terse. He wiped his hands with a towel and pushed himself over to where Kira sat floating at the table.
The built-in holo sprang to life, and an image of Tschetter—clad in the same skinsuit as before—appeared from the shoulders up. Kira was relieved to see the major had survived the battle at Bughunt.
Tschetter said, “Captain Falconi, Navárez, your message is received and acknowledged. Thank you. We would have been in a shit-ton of trouble otherwise—not that the current situation is much better. Given the change in circumstances, it’s imperative that we meet and talk.” As Kira had expected. “Let me repeat: it’s imperative that we meet. Long-distance won’t suffice. It’s not secure, and we can’t have a proper conversation this way. Lphet has proposed the following coordinates, which I’ve done my best to convert into standard notation. For the sake of everyone�
�s safety, don’t respond to this message. We will travel to the specified location and wait exactly forty-two hours after you receive this. If the Wallfish doesn’t arrive by then, Lphet says it will assume that you—and this specifically means you, Kira—are no longer willing to assist in this endeavor, and the Knot of Minds will plan accordingly.” A note of appeal entered Tschetter’s voice, even though her expression remained as stern as ever. “I can’t emphasize enough just how important this is, Kira. Please, you have to come. And you as well, Falconi. Humanity needs all the allies it can find at the moment.… Tschetter over and out.”
“They don’t know we’re traveling under the name Finger Pig, do they,” said Kira, gesturing at the holo. The realization had just occurred to her.
“No,” said Falconi. “Good point. We’ll shift our transponder back. Would suck to get blown up over a case of mistaken identity.”
“So we’re going?” Kira asked.
“One second. Let me check the coordinates. Update our wriggly little friend here while I do.”
Itari, Kira saw, was rather restless. Its tentacles were red and blue, and they wormed across the table where the Jelly had been floating, gripping and regripping the grating with what in a human would have been nervous energy.
After Kira filled it in, the Jelly said, [[Itari here: We will meet with the Knot, yes? Yes?]]
The repetition reminded her of Vishal, and Kira smiled without meaning to. [[Kira here: Yes, I think so.]]
“Okay,” said Falconi. “Looks like they want to meet closer to Cordova-Fourteen-Twenty. Assuming we get out of here quick-like, we can make it to the spot in about twenty-eight hours.”
“In FTL?” said Kira.
“Of course.”
“Just checking.… That’s cutting it awfully close, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “They’re only twelve hours away by signal, so not really.”
“Do you need to go back into cryo?”
“Nah, but I’m going to leave the rest of the crew under, and we’ll have to keep the ship as cold as possible. You’ll tell Itari that, yes?”
To Sleep in a Sea of Stars Page 73