by S. E. Smith
Four
If circumstances had been different, Owen would have enjoyed strolling through the Nebula Zephyr with Tyrelle on his arm. Emily had gotten her an attractive outfit which he thought fitted her curves yet flowed gracefully, and Jayna the Security Officer didn’t object to acting as if the three of them were on a friendly tour of the ship together.
As she passed the florist shop, Tyrelle’s steps slowed. She carried the bouquet he’d given her.
He had her small package of medications, a second change of clothing and personal supplies Emily had also provided.
“The flowers and plants are lacking,” she said.
“No argument there.” Owen remembered his depressing visit to the shop.
“I-I wish I could help. It’s been so long since I saw green living things, other than these beautiful flowers you gave me,” she said with a special tilt of her head and happy smile for him.
Jayne made a sound, but when Owen glared at her, she was straight faced. “No side trips, sorry. Orders are to proceed straight to the cabin you’ve been assigned on Deck 14.”
“It’s fine, I understand.” Tyrelle walked a bit more rapidly. “I’m so grateful to be enjoying even this amount of freedom.” She gasped and clung to him when Owen escorted her into the crew gravlift.
He put his arm around her as they descended and maintained a steady stream of conversation. Midorri shot out of a vent and floated beside them for the last portion of the trip, tail wrapped loosely at Tyrelle’s ankle. “Not used to this?” he said.
“I’ve never traveled in this fashion, no. Usually my captors forced me into cryo sleep, the way I arrived on your ship.”
Jayna insisted on entering the cabin with them to do a rapid security check and verify with Maeve the small rooms were secure. “I’ll be right outside until my shift ends, and then it’s Clint, who you met before,” she told Tyrelle. “If you need anything, knock on the door or ask the AI to contact us.”
Having placed the bouquet into a container with water and set it on the table beside the bed, Owen remained as Jayna left. His AI chimed, and he answered absently. “Embersson here.”
“Hey, boss, just checking in.”
“Something wrong? Did you find anything in the other crates?”
“All clean, nothing but normal cargo. One small stash of joysmoke grass, but we confiscated the bag and turned it over to Officer Dilon. I wondered if you were ok?” His deputy’s voice conveyed her puzzlement. “I don’t remember you ever being late to work. Hell, you practically live here in the cargo bay.”
“I’m occupied with other concerns right now. See you soon.” He clicked off, standing by the door and watching Tyrelle explore the cramped cabin, her face set in a delighted expression. “Do the new quarters please you? Will you be comfortable here? Is there anything you need me to fix or explain?”
She sat on the end of the bed, and Midorri jumped up beside her. “Thank you so much for getting me moved to this cozy place. It’s lovely.”
“The least we could do. Now there are four days left before we get to our next port. Try to relax and rest. I heard Dr. Shane say she’d visit you once a day. Your meals will be served here, the ship’s library function has all kinds of trideos you can watch on the entertainment channels, Maeve can supply reading materials or games—”
Tracing the subtle pattern in the bed cover with one finger, eyes downcast, she said, “Will I see you again, my advocate?”
“Absolutely, if that’s what you want. I also plan to be with you when SCIA comes on board, for as long as the agents let me stay.” He grinned. “I’m a big guy, hard to dislodge.”
“I overheard the conversation with your staff; I know you have work to do.”
“The cargo bay can run itself for a few hours. I’ve got a good crew.” Hand on the door, he hesitated, tempted to stay, but said, “Listen, I need to take care of a few things, but if you need me, hail Maeve and she can call me direct. If you address the AI ganglion here in the cabin, she activates.”
Tyrelle nodded. “How can I ever thank you for this oasis of kindness in the desert of misery my life has become?”
“No thanks required.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I wish we’d met under better circumstances.”
She strained to lift Midorri onto her lap. “As do I.”
Owen emerged into the corridor, exchanged a few words with Jayna and then headed for the gravlift. He descended past the cargo decks without a second glance and got off at the bottom, the Engineering Deck. Once inside the corridors he’d never visited before, he asked a startled crew member for directions to the Chief Engineer’s office. She escorted him there personally, probably to observe Chief Takkei’s reaction so she could tell her fellow engineering crewmates about it later.
The usually imperturbable Chief did a double take, eyebrows rising, jaw dropping. “Did you get lost, Cargo Master?”
“I’m here to ask a favor.” Embersson shut the door firmly and embarked on one of the most difficult negotiations he’d ever undertaken.
He did have to log a few hours on the cargo deck, since major readjustments were needed as a result of leaving the suspected Combine cargo container untouched in a most inconvenient location. The Zephyr had cargo to offload at the next stop, and missed deadlines meant penalties, which the CLC Line abhorred. Although he had a top-notch, handpicked crew, his presence was required. Owen chafed at the delay in returning to Tyrelle, his attention not entirely on the job at hand. As soon he’d signed off on the completed work, he called his deputy over. “I’m off for the rest of the day. Call me if there’s an emergency.”
Jaw dropping, she blinked a few times, opening and closing her mouth without uttering a sound.
“The decks are all yours,” he said, not waiting for her to find her voice. Flushed with happy anticipation, he hastened to the residence deck then stopped at his cabin to shower and changed into a fresh uniform. He placed the gorgeous red rose she’d given him in a mug of water and touched one petal as if it were her own soft cheek. Sauntering into the corridor, he realized he was whistling as he approached Tyrelle’s cabin, where this afternoon another of Jake’s security staff was stationed.
He knocked and entered to find Tyrelle in bed and the lights dim. Pausing on the threshold, he said, “Are you all right?”
“Tired. Dr. Shane visited earlier, and she said I might experience intermittent fatigue and dizziness. Apparently I’m a bad candidate for cryo sleep, not that my captors cared.” She pushed her hair off her face as she sat up and grimaced. “She gave me an inject and said I’ll be fine. Is there a task I need to do? Or an obligation I need to be made aware of?”
“No, merely checking in. I’ll leave you in peace then.” Disappointed, he retreated. “I have something to show you, tomorrow I guess, if you’re up to it.”
“I’m happy to see you. Stay and chat for a few minutes, if you have time.”
Already uncomfortable at disturbing her, he paused at the door, tempted to spend at least a little bit of time in her presence, but Tyrelle’s gaunt cheeks and the shadows under her eyes convinced him not to linger. “You need your rest. Don’t want to get Dr. Shane upset. Tomorrow will do.”
Nodding, she reclined and pulled the covers to her chin. “All right, see you then.”
He went to his cabin with his formerly good mood deflated. Putting on his sweat pants and an old T shirt, he ate a quick dinner, fed Moby and got out his tools to work on his current model . “Not feeling it tonight, cat,” he said after half an hour of fiddling with minor details and stops and starts. “I was looking forward to talking with her. I’m jealous you and Midorri can keep her company whenever you want.”
Moby yowled.
“Yeah, I know, she’s only on board for three more days. Don’t remind me.” Scratching the cat’s head, he leaned back in his chair. “Whatever this is, I’ve never had it before. I’ve got it bad and that ain’t good.”
Five
After confirming with
Tyrelle the next afternoon she was feeling well enough for a small expedition, Owen called Jake and met him at the lady’s cabin.
“Take a break, go take a stroll through the casino and make sure everything’s quiet there,” Jake said to Jayna, who had the duty. “I’ll be escorting the Cargo Master and Miss Tyrelle for the next couple of hours.”
Owen knocked and entered, Jake on his heels, to find Tyrelle dressed in one of her two new outfits, sitting on the end of the bed as eager as a kid waiting for a fun field trip.
She rose, coming to give him a hug before nodding to Jake. “It’s kind of you both to arrange whatever this is for my benefit.”
“I want to show you a special area of the ship, which I thought you’d like. It’s usually off limits,” Owen said, “But Jake was obliging enough to agree to go with us.”
“My pleasure,” the security chief said with a half bow.
Together the trio strolled through the corridor to the gravlift and then rose to Level 9.
Tyrelle gasped as she entered the ship’s vast hydroponic gardens, hastening into the greenery with a glad cry. “It’s been so long since I was surrounded by so many plants, so many varieties.” She checked with Owen for permission and then darted down a side aisle to where flowers bloomed. The men caught up to her as she reverently cupped a fragrant peach-colored rose to better savor the perfume. “No soil?” she asked, touching the surface of the nutrients, where the bush’s pale roots twined.
“On board a ship, hydroponic fluid is the way to go,” Jake answered. “Although I admit the flowers don’t flourish.”
“Flowers require extra care and understanding,” she said, walking along the container, stopping here and there to examine a bloom more closely. In her wake, the flowers glowed, the way the original bouquet had done in sickbay.
Jake gave Owen a puzzled glance but he shook his head.
Humming, Tyrelle moved dreamily out of the floral section to the fruits and there too her presence invigorated the small trees, with peaches and apples taking on a new sheen.
Owen fancied the fruit to be ripening as she passed.
She came to a section where the trays held struggling plants, many brown. “Tragedy has surely struck here. What did you intend to grow?” Tyrelle asked.
“I believe we were trying new vegetables, spices maybe?” Jake made a guess, checking with Owen, who shrugged.
Details of departments other than his own didn’t stay in his mind for long. He had enough to do on the cargo decks. “We lost our Chief Hydro Officer after the outbreak. She retired, said she’d had enough of flying in space and wanted to go back to farming in the real dirt,” Owen said.
“If you would permit, I can encourage the plants,” she said. “It would be a pleasure to use my power for the proper purpose and repay a small portion of the hospitality debt.”
Jake looked startled, but Owen nodded. “We’d be honored. Just don’t tire yourself out, or Dr. Shane will get mad at me. And I have another area to show you.”
“All right, this section only then.” She closed her eyes and held her hands in front of her, palms up. She sang a song, her voice low and sultry.
Owen felt the hair on his arms stand up, as if electricity in the air heralded a coming storm. Golden motes of light floated from Tyrelle’s fingers, drifting over the plants as if a breeze carried them. The nutrient solution rippled in the tanks. The motes drifted, touching a leaf here and a stem there, finally winking out as if their energy had been exhausted. The wizened, sickly green stems straightened, new leaves burst forth, and by the time she ceased her song a few moments later, the patch was the most vibrant spot in the entire hydroponic garden.
Owen stepped closer, supporting her as she staggered, one hand going to her temple. “You overdid it,” he said, trying not to sound too harsh.
Leaning against him, she nodded. “But I’m not sorry, and I’ll face Dr. Shane’s wrath if I must. Doing what I was born to do gave me so much pleasure, rather than being forced—” Biting her lip, she stopped. “The lack of the earth’s energy was a hindrance,” she said as Owen guided her toward the main aisle. “I’m not used to pulling from fluid."
They arrived at the end of the hydroponics section, facing the ship’s hull. Head tilted, Tyrelle regarded the wall then glanced at her companions. “I don’t understand?”
Jake set his hand on a section of the bulkhead indistinguishable from any other. A panel appeared, and he entered a code before stepping aside. A hidden portal slid open, wide enough for one person to pass through. “Be my guests,” he said. “Take your time. I’ve set aside the entire afternoon and can multitask from here, with my personal AI and Maeve’s links.”
Owen offered his hand. “I owe you.”
The two men shook hands. “Happy to help,” Jake said, “Once the captain and Mr. Takkei agreed.”
Chittering, Midorri scampered down the aisle and put one paw on the threshold between the hydroponics bay and whatever lay beyond. She batted her golden eyes at Jake.
“Yeah, you know you’re not allowed in there,” he said affectionately, hunkering down to scratch the animal’s head. “But I’ll pretend I didn’t see you, this one time.”
Midorri took off like a shot, running ahead into the secret compartment.
“I hope she behaves herself, or I’ll never hear the end of it from Takkei. Be sure you bring the furry little nuisance out with you when you’re done.” Jake rose and walked to a nearby console, yanking the chair away from the desk. “You two have fun.”
Owen turned to the puzzled Tyrelle. “Close your eyes? I promise not to let you trip or fall.”
Smiling, she placed both hands over her eyes like a mask.
He tugged one hand free and led her across the threshold, as the panel slid into place behind them. “You can look now.” Her reaction exceeded his hopes.
Eyes widening, jaw dropping as she took in her surroundings, Tyrelle gasped. She stood on the edge of a real garden crammed with well-tended plants of all types, from many worlds.
Riotously colored flowers bloomed on all sides, filling the air with scent. Tiny insects flitted through the foliage, filling the air with a soothing hum as they sipped from the flowers. Thick green grass stretched like a carpet and a stunning holo overhead projected blue sky dotted with a few wispy white clouds. Owen heard the music of a small brook running along the path.
“Are we on your ship?” Her voice was a hushed whisper. “Did we go through a magic portal?”
“The blue sky and clouds are holograms, as is the view to the horizon, but we’re still on the ship. This is my first time in this chamber as well. Do you like it?”
“I want to see it all.” She smiled shyly at him, extending her hand. “With you.”
Together they walked along the path through the carefully designed garden, which even boasted a few small trees. The path ended at a fountain and a stone bench, adjacent to a circular space of gleaming white sand, with a few non-faceted semiprecious stones the size of Owen’s fist punctuating neatly raked lines.
Clearly too delicate for his massive frame, the bench wasn’t inviting, so Owen sat with his back against one of the trees. “Real dirt underfoot,” he said, running his hand over the emerald grass. “Of course the irrigation system is elaborate and manmade, like the stream but as close as we can get to a genuine garden.”
Tyrelle bent to remove her shoes then checked with him. “May I? I don’t want to be disrespectful.”
“Please, feel free. This is what’s known as a Tadochi contemplation garden, constructed by a master priest from their religion’s main temple,” Owen said, gesturing at their surroundings. “Our Chief Engineer comes from a high-ranking family on the planet with strong ties to the priesthood, but the area’s not meant to be a religious shrine. More of a place to sit and think, and seek calm, is the way it’s been explained to me.”
Standing on her bare feet, digging her toes into the grass and soil below, Tyrelle extended her arms toward the
holo sky and burst into song, much more powerfully than she had in the hydroponic enclosure. The shy birds which lived in the garden and all the insects came to fly around her, while Midorri crept close and curled at her ankles. Even the ornamental koi in the pond at the end of the stream drew closer to the bank.
Transfixed, Owen gawked at her, wishing he had a way to capture the sheer beauty of her happiness and the glorious power of her voice. As he watched, her hair became more lustrous green and the scars and abrasions on her neck faded and vanished, as did the angry red marks on her ankles. She appeared revived, refreshed, happy. Swiveling his head, he observed the plants in the garden appeared even more vivid.
He applauded softly when she finished the song, startling the birds and other creatures, who flew or swam away.
Midorri blinked at him but ambled to the bench and curled in a furry green ball beside it, tail hiding her eyes.
“Amazing. I saw the entire thing, and I can hardly believe what you accomplished.”
“A song of rejoicing and renewal, a blessing for the ship and all who travel on her,” she said, sitting next to him on the grass and leaning her head on his shoulder. “Although I’m a disgraced priestess, the power came to me in this place. How can I ever thank you?”
Sliding his arm around her and holding her close felt like the most natural thing in the world. “No need to thank me. I just had to talk a few people into letting us have access.”
“This place abounds with peace, but I sense remnants of darker emotions here and there, as if bad memories have been examined and banished.”
“Most of our core crew is ex-military, and some of them went through really bad things on their various deployments, to the point where they suffer from after effects.”
“But not you? I see you as a warrior through and through, but I don’t sense the horrors you speak of. Not to the extent I feel the memories radiating from Jake or Dr. Shane.” She gestured. “I can tell both have been here in this garden, but not you.”