The Vela: The Complete Season 1

by Yoon Ha Lee, Becky Chambers, SL Huang

  Niko pushed past Asala through the door and stalked off out of the Yard. Asala frowned. What was riling their feathers up? As an inner-worlder, they couldn’t have expected they’d be welcomed on a planet like Hypatia with open arms. And it hadn’t been like them to make the slip about language. Niko was smart, and so far, they had been more or less professional. Maybe they were just tired.

  “You really trust that kid?” the mechanic asked.

  “More than I trust you,” said Asala. “You haven’t exactly been forthright.”

  “Why should I be? Just because you speak local?”

  The flush of gratification Asala felt embarrassed her. Despite giving her a hard time, the woman did see her as a clanner. After fighting to get away from that identity her whole life, Asala didn’t know why she suddenly cared. Maybe she just wanted one single space where she wasn’t a foreigner.

  But this wasn’t the time. She cleared her throat and dug into her pockets for some local currency.

  The mechanic made it disappear and gave a theatrical sigh. “I’m gonna need some more details about the ship you’re looking for. But I’m not a rat. I won’t be able to give you much.”

  “A decent ship. Not new, but solid money behind it. Plenty of inner-world modifications and large enough for a few thousand people. Touched down for repairs.”

  The mechanic shook her head. “I’d know if a ship like that entered my yard, and it surely didn’t. If it had, half the people in this city would’ve seen it touch down and would’ve stampeded the Yard trying to get onto it.”

  Asala examined the woman. Short and slight, but big in other ways. Big spirited. Big eyed. Big mouthed. Reminded Asala of one of her clan mothers.

  “Look,” said the mechanic. “These days, this place is little more than a scrap yard. The only ships in working order are the ones I’ve personally rebuilt from scratch, and barely any of those can stay together past low orbit. A ship like the one you’re looking for, what could any of us here have done for it? Repair a broken valve with what? Look around.”

  “Then maybe you stripped it to make a ship that can get to Gan-De,” Asala said. “Especially now. Isn’t everyone on the planet scrambling to make the jump while they can?”

  The mechanic barked a laugh. “Lady, if I trusted something I built to get across, I’d have been on it. I’d rather the death-cold get me than get vacced. Do you know how many of the scrap ships make it? Less than half. And even if you make it over, no one will have us. Least all those fools keep me busy here.”

  Asala didn’t have a response. She’d been one of the ones who’d made it. Doubtless the mechanic had figured that out.

  She’d never felt lucky about it. She didn’t now, either, but guilt tingled in the pit of her stomach. What right did she have to be the one who beat the odds?

  She forced herself back to the mission. “There are people on that ship who are important to me to find. Anything you might know, no matter how small, might help.”

  “This isn’t that ship from Eratos, is it?” the mechanic asked, Asala’s seriousness about the situation finally sinking in. “I haven’t seen anything about it on the wire. No news. According to what I’ve seen, it’s still on course.”

  “Is there anywhere else on the planet they might’ve gone for repairs?”

  The mechanic bit her lips and scrunched her brow, thinking. “Maybe a hundred years ago when seventy-five percent of the planet wasn’t abandoned. They’re not here.”

  Asala’s only lead was already looking like a dead end. “Thank you for your time,” she said. The mechanic grunted.

  Asala let herself back out into the endless cold.

  • • •

  When Niko wasn’t back at the room, nor even checked in according to the computer records, Asala found herself a pub. She couldn’t over-imbibe on the job. But she could have a few. It might relax her and make it easier to blend in, which she was apparently doing a poor job at.

  “Hey,” someone said.

  Asala turned. A woman, maybe a few years younger than herself, was smiling from the stool next to her.

  “Looks like you’ve had a piece-of-shit day,” she said.

  Asala smiled easily, ready to let off the burden of her time here on Hypatia so far. “I’d compliment you on your powers of insight, but I’ve got to say, piece-of-shit day seems to be the standard in Almagest.”

  The woman shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’m a country girl through and through. Name’s Simya.”

  Asala took a sip of her drink, letting it calm her. “Asala. So why Almagest tonight then?”

  “Work,” Simya said. “And what about you? What brings you here?”

  “Work,” said Asala.

  “Here’s to work then,” said Simya, holding up her glass, “which has had the pleasant side effect of bringing us together.”

  Unsure what to do with the compliment, Asala took another drink. “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this.”

  “You’re really not from Almagest then.”

  “Yeah?” asked Asala.

  Nodding, Simya took a sip of her drink. “If you were, my country girl charms would’ve already worked on you and you’d be taking me back to wherever you’re staying.”

  “Maybe it’s because I’m a country girl too,” said Asala, only letting herself get partially lost in the conversation. She kept her eyes open. She kept her body faced toward the pub’s windows so she could see out onto the street.

  “You don’t strike me that way. I can read your eyes. You’ve seen cities way bigger than Almagest.”

  “What you’ve seen doesn’t necessarily say anything about who or what you are,” said Asala. It was an empty statement, didn’t mean anything really, but she still felt surprised that she’d said it to this essential stranger. At least part of it was true, and she didn’t usually say true things to women she met randomly at a bar. She was more tired than she realized. It wasn’t the mission. It was Hypatia, hollowing her out emotionally.

  “Okay, so which clan are you from? No, wait. Let me guess.” Simya squinted her eyes, thinking. “Your tattoos aren’t finished, but . . . I’m going to say you grew up in the mountains. Easterly. No, Northeasterly. Najima?”

  “Gods.” Asala didn’t usually like being seen through so easily, but it pleased her that there was enough of Hypatia in her that Simya could figure out her clan. “You’re good.”

  Simya laughed. “I am. At many things.”

  Asala did her best to ignore that and had another sip of her drink. It warmed her from the inside. “And what about you?”

  “Kaikias,” said Simya.

  “And what kind of work takes a country girl all the way from the deep south to Almagest?”

  Simya tilted her head, looking almost girlish for a moment. “I’m a nurse, actually.”

  “Really? I didn’t know Hypatia still had nurses.” Aside from shopkeepers, people worked the land or fished. Reaped as much as they could from the dying world.

  “A few. We’re in short supply, so we have to move around a lot. Different hospitals. Schools, for the few that are still open. Other institutions. Whenever there’s any kind of outbreak in a village. Different day, different assignment. Mostly based around Almagest but not always.”

  “It sounds like you travel a fair bit.” That might mean she knew something. Even when flirting, Asala’s mind was on the job.

  Simya nodded.

  “As a nurse, if there was a ship that passed through Hypatia with injured persons on it, would you be someone who was called?” asked Asala.

  Simya paused, brow scrunched. “I mean, yes, I suppose. But something like that wouldn’t go through official channels. If I heard about it, I’d go, certainly.”

  “And have you? Heard of something like that recently?” Asala didn’t bother to hide her intentions, the fact that she was here for information. She sensed Simya wouldn’t mind it, that she liked things to be as direct as possible.

  “No. But honestly, s
hips crash down on Hypatia all the time. We call them Eratosi Meteors. There wouldn’t typically be any survivors,” she said.

  “But what about a nicer ship capable of automatic navigation? Something hardy. Something paid for by one of the inner planets, commissioned by the government?”

  Signs of recognition appeared on Simya’s face. Maybe it was foolish to give so much away to a stranger, but Asala wouldn’t get anything if she didn’t give a little.

  “Not the refugee ship?” asked Simya, concerned. “Is it—what’s happened?”

  “Nothing,” Asala assured her. “But I need to find it.”

  “It’s lost then? Asala, those were the last Eratosi in the system. It’s a lot of people. Children,” Simya said.

  Asala did a quick calculation and gently put her hand over Simya’s. “And I’m going to find them. Is there anything you could tell me that would help?”

  Simya pulled away and turned to press a few buttons on the service computer, closing out her drink tab. Asala could tell she was stalling. She had medium brown skin but her tattoos were white. Simya had an easy way about her that the innards might have been surprised by, as it didn’t suggest she’d lived her whole life on a planet as cold and unforgiving as Hypatia. Yet her charm and confidence reminded Asala so much of so many women she had known on Hypatia, in her own clan.

  “Asala!”

  She turned. Niko was here. Asala straightened herself up then stood.

  “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” they said.

  “I waited for you. You didn’t come. So I moved on with my evening,” said Asala.

  Simya stood up from her barstool and zipped on her coat. “I’m going to let you two work this out. Asala, it was great to meet you. Here’s my code. I can’t help you with the ship, but if there’s any other reason you might want to get together, get in touch,” she said, handing Asala a number scrawled on a napkin.

  “I’ll do that,” said Asala, watching her as she left. “Wipe that sloppy grin off your face,” she told Niko.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to cockblock. Just had a lead and I’ve been all over Almagest trying to find you when you weren’t back at the inn.”

  Asala should’ve waited for Niko back in the room. Going to the bar had been a waste of time and she hadn’t really learned anything. More dead ends.

  She’d let herself get distracted. This place really was getting to her. Making her less sharp.

  “Let’s get back to the room,” she said to Niko. “I want to hear what you’ve found.”

  • • •

  It was far from a smoking gun, but it was better than anything Asala had gotten. One of Niko’s contacts had come through. A couple of days ago a man had been arrested for selling high-quality rocket fuel, something that could’ve only come from an inner planet.

  “Only problem is he’s been arrested for the crime. He’s at Kleidaria.”

  Asala slumped in the chair. “Fuck.”

  “Tell me about it. I did some preliminary investigations. It’s not exactly a place we can just walk into for visiting hours. I’ve been able to track down blueprints, including sublevels, to see if there’s access via the plumbing. In many ways it’s more secure than anything on Khayyam. Super-sophisticated computer security.”

  It was the only thing Gan-De had ever given Hypatia in the form of aid—tools to keep Hypatians in. And Hypatia accepted it. In these times of desperation, violent crime was at a record high.

  “Shouldn’t you be able to, I don’t know, virtually pick the locks?” Asala asked.

  “It’s tough. I maybe could if I had time, and that’s still a big maybe.”

  “How much time?”

  “I don’t know. Weeks? A month? More maybe. And I’d need a lot of help. This isn’t going to be easy. If I was on-site, and I mean on-site, in the facility, I could access the local network and pull it off. Maybe sweet-talk a couple of people and get access codes, administrator passwords. But even something like that would take at least days to set up,” Niko said, collapsing onto the mattress.

  Asala laced her fingers together and crossed one leg over the other. “There’s got to be another way in.”

  “You must still have family here. Connections. Do you know anyone who could have access? Or someone there, even?”

  Asala shook her head. “It’s been almost forty years. I don’t—I’ve had no contact with anyone.”

  Niko sat back up and flushed. Asala had the grace not to remind them how thoughtless the question about family had been. After all, they knew all about her family. In looking up Dayo, they must have dug into every corner of her past without permission.

  The silence stretched. Asala let it, leaning into the discomfort.

  Niko finally got up and went to unwrap a foil packet with some warm food inside. They had the heater on maximum but it was struggling, and even layered in all their gear, it was still painful. “Got one for you, too,” Niko said, gesturing to their messenger bag.

  Asala accepted the peace offering and relented in return. “We might be able to use Simya.”

  “Simya? What’s that?” asked Niko.

  “It’s a who. The woman from the pub. She’s a nurse, and she works at different sites. She

  mentioned hospitals and schools, other institutions. Couldn’t one of those institutions be a prison? They must need nurses, but they likely wouldn’t have any on-site, or if they did, they’d rotate based on need.”

  Niko took a bite of their saslik. “Okay, so we have a possible in, but is she up for it? I mean, you just met.”

  Asala had gotten the distinct impression Simya was up for anything. “I think she cares a lot about the fate of the people on the Vela. That might be motivation enough.”

  “Her potential connection to the prison is pretty tangential. I’m not sure we could even legitimately get her in.” Niko made a face. “But what other option do we have?”

  It was a stretch, but a stretch was a start, which was more than they had without Simya. “I’ll call her,” said Asala.

  Asala fished out the napkin with the call code on it and dialed. Simya picked up almost immediately.

  “Yeah?”

  “Is this Simya?” asked Asala.

  “Yeah? Who’s this?”

  “Asala. We met a few hours ago?”

  Simya’s voice warmed. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon, but I’m glad I have. Would you like to meet up? The night’s still young.”

  “I do want to meet up, though unfortunately not for what I’d hoped to be calling you for,” said Asala. Niko had that goofy grin back on their face.

  “More questions about the ship? I told you. I can’t help you. I don’t know anything.”

  “Can you meet me in the lobby of the Dusad? It’s only a block from the pub we were at. I know you don’t know anything, but there’s another way that you can help. You could be a part of saving the people on that refugee ship.”

  Asala heard laughing and other noises in the background. Simya must be at another bar. “Don’t try to manipulate me like that. You don’t know me.”

  “If I had other options, I wouldn’t be,” Asala said.

  The line was silent for several seconds. “I’ll meet you. I can’t guarantee I can do more for you than that.”

  • • •

  Simya was already there waiting for them when they got downstairs. She didn’t feel comfortable going back up to the room, so they sat in the deserted lobby, pulling chairs and a coffee table off to the side for some privacy. It was colder down here, and the three of them huddled together around a rattling heater for warmth.

  “I really did tell you all I know about the ship. I have no doubt that it may have landed here, but if it did, it did so quickly. It’s not here anymore, and you’re unlikely to find any traces of it,” said Simya, dressed more conservatively than she’d been at the bar. She had a thick jumper on now and her hair was concealed underneath a knit hat pulled down to her ears. She had
glasses on now too. Something told Asala she’d been getting toward the end of her night when Asala called and dressing down for her journey home. It didn’t make her any less attractive.

  “We have a lead about the ship touching down here, but the guy we need to get to is inaccessible,” Asala explained.

  “What does that have to do with me?” Simya asked, impatient now.

  “We think it’s someplace you might be able to get into,” said Niko.

  Simya looked confused. “A hospital?” she asked. “Government building? Shuttleport detainee facility? Am I getting warmer?”

  “Kleidaria,” said Asala.

  Snorting, Simya nodded. “This is what I get for talking to strangers in bars,” she said. “I can only blame myself. I said I wanted more adventure in my life. As is your will, so may it be,” she added.

  Asala’s home mother used to say that. She hadn’t realized it must’ve been a saying quite common across Hypatia.

  “I’ve never been assigned to Kleidaria before. Why would that change just because it’s convenient for you?” Simya shifted nervously in her seat, her confidence from earlier beginning to waver.

  “I can handle that with a little bit of help from you, if you’d be willing to give me some details,” said Niko.

  Simya looked skeptical. “I could get in trouble?”

  “I’ll protect you,” said Asala. She meant it too. These missions carried risk no matter what, but she didn’t abide innocent casualties.

  “I can’t do this,” Simya said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” She was clutching her coat.

  “I wouldn’t have called if I had literally anyone else,” said Asala.

  “Goodbye,” said Simya, and she got up and left.

  • • •

  Niko sent out a call to their contacts for anyone who might have a connection to Kleidaria, but for days, there was nothing. Asala tried to press her memories for anyone who might be able to help, but that well was dry.