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The Silver Ships

Page 5

by S. H. Jucha


  As he sat beside Renée, his chair seat warmed and broadened to accommodate his bulk. All the ship’s chairs had this feature, he’d learned, and given that each part of him was larger than that of a Méridien, it was immensely appreciated.

  Alex watched as the survivors walked up to a line of dispensers at the rear of the room, returning with covered food dishes and pitchers. Several people served his table, removing the covers to release tantalizing scents. Terese poured a glass of water for him and a dark red liquid for Renée.

  Alex looked over the dishes of food. The enticing aromas made his mouth water, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around how it had been done. The Méridiens hadn’t even touched the dispensers, just stood waiting patiently, and then opened small cabinets to extract the dishes and pitchers.

  Observing the way the Captain was staring at his food, Renée sent,

 

  As she regarded the Captain out of the corner of her eye, she decided Julien was probably right.

 

  “Umm…no…it’s just that…”

 

  “It’s just that I’m wondering how you did his,” he said, indicating the dishes of food with a wave of his hand.

 

  She had said it simply as if he only needed to be reminded of the components to understand the process. He felt dizzy, but he wasn’t sure if it was from failing to eat since morning, except for a little vita-drink, or this overwhelming glimpse into a strange new world. As he slowly sipped from his glass of water, his lightheadedness faded. It was replaced by the awareness of a gnawing hunger.

  Renée saw the Captain glance at her glass. She picked up her glass, signaling the beginning of the meal.

  Alex tentatively sampled various dishes in front of him and found many to his liking. He abandoned his fears and dived into the food, hoping the rumbling of his stomach didn’t reach Renée’s ears. He was starving and the serving dishes were tiny compared to just one of his synth-meals. To his delight, as fast as he emptied the serving dishes, they were whisked away and replaced with fresh ones.

  Terese sent to Renée.

  She forwarded a vid from Julien of the Captain, fully encumbered and under gravity, advancing down one of the ship’s corridors.

  When the short vid finished, Terese stared at the Captain for a moment and then stood and headed for the food dispensers for more dishes for him.

  Belatedly, Alex noticed that Renée had finished her food and was sipping her drink. In fact, when he looked up, he saw that all the Méridiens had finished and sat waiting for him. He eased his utensil, overflowing with a spicy dish he had found particularly tasty, back down to his plate. Julien translated Renée’s murmur of good appetite, and he felt his neck and ears warm. He wiped his mouth with a fabric napkin, and the serving dishes, some still with food, were cleared away. He winced as they vanished, wishing he might have kept the food for later aboard his ship.

  Étienne rose and addressed him. All heads nodded in agreement.

  Renée indicated her fellow survivors and said,

  Solemn faces regarded him from each table. A sense of an important, perhaps even critical, moment prompted Alex to set aside his usual reticence. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, straightening in his chair. Then carefully, succinctly, factually, and without blandishment, he recounted his story.

  Rather than begin with the discovery of their ship, he told them how he had come to be out here, capturing ice asteroids, choosing to work by himself. When he reached the part about detecting an object moving too quickly for his ship to catch, he was honest about his near decision to ignore it. His curiosity had won the day, he told them.

  He detailed his plan to accelerate around a gas giant and snag the Rêveur with his tractor beams. He didn’t hide the fact that the violent lurch of his ship, at the moment of capture, caused him to blackout for hours, and he felt fortunate to be alive. Finally, he told them how he’d made the EVA trip across the fifty-five meters separating their ships even though he couldn’t detect an entrance and credited Julien with opening the ship for him.

  When he finished his story, they asked questions but not about his strategy or the mechanics of his approach. They asked how he felt and why he did it. Their inquiries were gentle, searching, and he heard himself sharing more intimate thoughts with these strangers from another world than he’d ever done with his university peers. He related his moments of fear and of triumph, of the requests and then orders of Colonel Stearns and Minister Drake to remain outside the ship, and of his desire to see their ship despite the prospect of earning the government’s ire.

  The last question answered, he regarded the faces of his audience. Their eyes were on him, and, as one body, they stood up, crossed their forearms, placing their palms against their chest, and bowed their heads. When he turned to Renée, he found her searching his face.

  she said.

  “Keep it?” Alex asked.

  and she pointed to her temple.

  Alex watched as Renée stood and adopted the same pose as her people. All of them stayed that way, appearing to wait, and Alex, allowing intuition to guide him, stood and inclined his head in a solemn nod. Their salute complete, they smiled at him, broad smiles…smiles that celebrated their resurrection. He felt the blood rush to his face, embarrassed by such fierce attention. Making his apologies to Renée, with mumbled excuses about messages to review back aboard the Outward Bound, he quickly fled the meal room.

  As the Captain left, Renée queried Julien.

 

 

  Julien responded,

  Her implant showed Julien had closed the connection. Curious, she thought. Julien hadn’t answered her query.

  * * *

  After his EVA trip back to the tug, Alex stored his suit in the cleanser and floated up to his pilot’s chair to check his comm queue. There was still no slowing of the message onslaught. Even his auto responses hadn’t dented the deluge.

  Tara had prioritized his queue based on his assigned values, and a message from Minister Drake’s office administrator was near the top of the list. Now that his drive engines were shut down, New Terra Orbital Tracking Control was able to determine his approach course. The administrator had provided coordinates for a tanker rendezvous, so he sent a quick acknowledgement.

  Next, he opened a message from Minister Drake, who relayed the general opinion of his advisory staff and scientists that the alien bridge computer was a non-entity. Therefore, the Minister concluded, the ship would be considered salvage. A formal deci
sion, he said, would require the Assembly’s approval, and, of course, he hastened to add, Alex would be well compensated by the government for his efforts.

  It was with a certain perverse pleasure that Alex recorded his response. “Tara, message to Minister William Drake, New Terra. ‘Minister Drake, as to Julien’s rights, the question is moot. For the record, I strongly disagree with the advice you’ve been given. It’s the eighteen Méridiens, who’ve been awakened from stasis, who would refute your claim to the Rêveur.’”

  He ended the message and sent it, laughing to himself. After answering his other priority messages, he found one from his father and mother. As he listened to their voices and their words of encouragement, his eyes filled with tears. He missed them. They were his anchor. Then his thirteen-year-old sister, Christie, jumped into the comm screen, demanding that he bring home an alien to show her school friends. He laughed so hard he started choking. He sent a reply telling them that all was well and he’d made some new acquaintances.

  -6-

  In the morning, Alex fixed himself a hot meal. The reconstituted synth-meals were a poor substitute for the Méridiens’ food, but at least they were filling. After a quick cleanser, he donned his EVA suit and made his way back to the Rêveur.

  Not knowing where to start, he made his way to the bridge and found Renée and five others waiting for him. Instead of the eye-catching garments most had worn the previous night, they were all dressed in utilitarian ship suits, although nicer than any Alex had ever possessed.

  “Greetings, Captain,” Renée said. “We have further work assignments for you.”

  “Good morning, Renée,” Alex replied. “I notice your voice is emanating from you this morning and not the bridge speakers or my ear comm. What’s changed?”

  “Yes, Captain. Julien has created a translation program for us. We are now able to communicate with you through our harnesses,” she said, indicating the streamlined belt around her waist, paired with a strap that ran from the belt’s right front over the opposite shoulder to the back of the belt. The others had identical set ups, he noticed. “Now, as for your work assignments…”

  Alex interrupted her in mid-sentence. “Good morning, Julien. How are you today?”

  “Good morning, Alex. I’m well. Thank you for asking,” Julien replied. “The bow’s primary power-crystal bank is fully charged. It appears the secondary bank isn’t recoverable and will need to be replaced.” Julien surmised Alex’s intentions. With Captain de Guirnon’s demise, Ser was now the House representative aboard the Rêveur, and as such, she expected Alex’s deference. But he wasn’t Méridien and his nature favored independence. He had heard Alex’s story last evening and was surprised, as they all were, that Alex was alone on his ship, something no Méridien would contemplate doing. He urgently wished Ser to understand that they needed Alex’s good will. A ship without power in a foreign system was at the mercy of others, and those others waited at the end of their journey. Without Alex to represent them to his people, to stand for them, if he would, they might lose the opportunity to return home.

  Rather than reacting adversely to Alex’s dismissal, Renée considered the exchange between Julien and the Captain. As her father had often said, “Know whom you’re contracting with before the deal is negotiated.” Perhaps, I know too little here, she thought.

  “Captain Racine,” she said, trying a different tact, “Julien has shared with us your efforts to restore our ship, and we are truly grateful. We,” she swept an arm around to encompass the others, “wish to work with you on the continued repairs.”

  Alex noticed the change in her demeanor. He hadn’t meant to be rude to her, but something in her earlier mien had reminded him of the snobbish university peers who’d come from well-to-do families. If she can reconsider her approach, so can I, he thought and relented. “I’d be pleased to work with your people, Renée, however I can.”

  Renée re-introduced her companions, whom he had met the previous evening, explaining how they might help. Edouard Manet was a navigation specialist and could continue the intricate work on the bridge. Claude Dupuis, the engineering technician, could work with Alex to open new areas of the ship. It appeared Claude was the only Méridien qualified for EVA work. The twins, Alain and Étienne de Long, would provide support for them.

  “The others can’t help?” Alex asked.

  “It has perhaps not escaped your notice, Captain, that the Rêveur is a passenger ship. In fact, it is one of my House’s premier liners. The others are House support staff with little skill in repairs. Over time, this could be rectified, but for now, these people,” she indicated those standing behind her, “will be effective immediately.”

  “When you recover crew or passengers,” Renée continued. “Alain and Étienne will care for the bodies and take them to Terese Lechaux, in Medical. She will see to them.”

  This last statement sobered Alex, banishing the remainder of his petty feelings.

  When Renée finished, they separated to attend to their respective tasks, and she stayed behind to speak with Julien.

 

  Renée exclaimed,

 

  Renée pondered Julien’s statements, but rather than comment, she closed her comm and left the bridge.

  * * *

  As Alex walked through the corridors with Claude, he noticed that the Méridiens were coordinating their efforts without speaking to one another. “Julien,” he commed, “when Renée pointed to her temple last night and said my story was recorded, did she mean it literally?”

  “Yes, Alex. Méridien children receive an implant and are trained extensively in its use—open comms to a group, maintaining privacy when they wish, recording and transmitting sensory input, and many other capabilities.”

  “Incredible,” was all Alex could think to say.

  The first task for Alex and Claude was to build a temporary airlock that they could attach it to a hatchway or doorway to reclaim a new area that might be exposed to open space. It was the only means by which they could ensure the safety of everyone else.

  They sealed the airlock in place with nanites then entered the space to cover holes, repair power and comm, and restore environmental systems, if they could. Not all spaces could be recovered completely, and Julien, monitoring their efforts, catalogued repairs to be completed at a later date. Claude commed the twins for additional materials, and they, in turn, would stack the needed supplies inside the makeshift airlock. Julien would complete their efforts, if possible, by powering the grav-plates, inertia compensators, and environmental controls.

  As they recovered a crew member or passenger, they’d take the body or, in some cases, body parts and leave them in the temporary airlock for retrieval by Alain and Étienne. Alex couldn’t imagine anything worse than finding the body parts until he found his first child. She lay in her bunk. He unstrapped her tiny, des
iccated body, still clothed in her brightly printed sleep shift, and carried her to the airlock.

  The twins, alerted by Claude, waited on the far side of the airlock’s transparent panel as the Captain entered the airlock, the child cradled in his arms. His massive EVA suit dwarfed her tiny remains. They could see the tears streaming down the Captain’s cheeks as he gently lay the little girl down and retreated back through his side. Alain carried the child to Medical, where Terese reactivated her implant to identify her. She suffered a pang of guilt over her relief when she realized she wouldn’t have to notify the parents. They too were among the missing.

  As Alex and Claude passed people in the corridors after mid-meal, he often felt a comforting pat on his arm or shoulder. He glanced at Claude once or twice for an explanation, but just received the universal response of a shrug. A simple implant error had been committed earlier.

  Étienne was on open comm with his companions, updating them on cabins coming available and requiring cleaning, when Alex entered the airlock with the child. The grief etched in the Captain’s face had halted his message and the vid of the Captain cradling the remains of the little one had streamed to his people.

  Julien had instantly detected the comm error, but it wasn’t his place to censor his people’s communications. And had it been, he would have chosen to allow the vid’s transmission. His people, especially Ser, needed to understand Alex’s nature and embrace him as an ally.

  At the day’s end, Claude led Alex to a Méridien refresher. It wasn’t fully functional, but it was a place to clean up. A utilitarian Méridien ship suit had been prepared for him. When Alex asked how they knew his size, Claude laughed and just pointed to his head. It had become a running joke between the two of them. It seemed to Alex that almost everything they did was accomplished with the use of their implants.

 

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