Ashfall Legacy
Page 9
Aela rounded on me immediately, drawing uncomfortably close. “Your first? Yes! May I watch you eat it?”
I blinked. “Um, sure.”
We stood in the hallway between the docking bay and the lavatories, and Aela watched me eat the plum, wiping the juices on my sleeve as I did. The wisp didn’t say anything, but the magenta cloud behind their faceplate let off a lot of static shocks, so I think they enjoyed the show.
“Thoughts?”
“I liked it.” I felt like I should elaborate. “Sweet. Good, uh . . . good mouthfeel?”
“Excellent!”
Aela moved on, leading me through a sliding wooden door and along a gently curving hallway. A large room opened up on my right. The centerpiece was a circular table definitely meant for family-style dinners. One wall was covered in glowing compartments that looked like microwaves, each filled with ready-made foodstuffs. The only thing I recognized on the meal wall was a dehydrated plate of spaghetti and meatballs.
“The canteen,” Aela announced. “The captain likes us to eat our main meal together as a crew, but you can snack whenever you want . . .”
I nodded distractedly at Aela, more interested in the two Denzans seated at the table. They were both my age, with stouter builds than the Denzans I’d encountered so far, shorter and broader of shoulder. They both had bright white hair streaked through with pale blue that had grown long, although the boy kept his tied back in a strict ponytail while the girl let hers squirm about loose. They wore matching outfits, too—dark blue shirts that seemed light and comfortable and gray slacks. Their shirts bore an insignia stitched into the shoulder—a cursive English “E” embossed over an Old West six-shooter. That must have been the symbol for the Eastwood.
The girl waved when she saw me and Aela peeking in. She lounged in her seat with a steaming bowl of a pinkish goop that resembled oatmeal. The guy was too engrossed in some work on his paper-thin tablet computer to even notice me.
“Hey there, I’m Melian,” she introduced herself warmly. “This is my twin brother, Batzian.” She nudged him with her foot when he still didn’t look up. “Batzian, it’s our new crewmate. You know, the one we came all this way for?”
Sighing, Batzian gave me a once-over. “Where’s your uniform?”
“Um, I just got here,” I replied.
He gave me a look like that wasn’t a good enough excuse. “Yes, well, like my sister said, I’m Batzian. Never Batz. Batzian.”
“Got it,” I said, knowing that I would almost definitely slip and call him “Batz” within the next day.
“We’re actually nice, I swear,” Melian said, wagging her spoon at her brother. “Batzian is just stressed because he’s in Chief Engineer Arkell’s Advanced Thermodynamics class—did you meet Arkell?—anyway, he decided this mission would be a good time to spring a massive lab report on his pupils.”
“We aren’t supposed to have coursework during missions,” Aela said.
“Tell that to Arkell,” muttered Batzian.
“He called me a mutt as soon as I got on board,” I added. “Don’t think I’ll be telling him anything.”
Melian winced on my behalf, and Batzian looked up at me with renewed interest. The initial reception from him might have been frosty, but I could tell the difference between a genuine dick and a stressed-out overachiever. I didn’t take it personally.
“He’s always threatening to send us back to the mushroom farm where we grew up,” Batzian told me.
“Seems like a great dude,” I replied.
“The Earthling is being sarcastic,” Aela informed the twins.
“Really?” Batizan replied.
“Oh wow, Aela, we couldn’t tell,” Melian added with a crooked grin.
Aela turned to me. “Now they’re messing with me.” The wisp tugged my arm. “Come on. Let’s continue the tour.”
We said good-bye to the twins and continued down the hall. I’d just met my fifth and sixth Denzans and joked around with them like it wasn’t a big deal at all that we were floating inside Jupiter while preparing to return to their home galaxy. I shook my head in disbelief at how quickly I was adjusting to this new reality.
“You seemed comfortable back there,” Aela said, as if reading my mind. “Some cadets have trouble with the transition to being around different species.”
“I moved around a lot on Earth, so I’m used to being the new kid,” I replied. “Dogging an unpopular teacher is a solid way to make friends.”
“An interesting sociological observation,” Aela said.
We passed through the engineering section. From here, an airlock led off the ring and to the rocket that propelled the Eastwood. There was an array of workbenches and tools, spare parts and replacement panels for around the ship. A narrow staircase led up to a second-level office, where, through a window, I spotted Arkell hunched before a network of monitors.
“Seriously, though, what’s up with that dude?” I asked, lowering my voice.
Aela shrugged. “He doesn’t make the best first impression. Or second. Or third. He did a good job fixing my exo-suit when I got a puncture during a space walk, though.”
I rubbed my upper arm. “What’s with that thing he wears?”
“His shame?” Aela glanced over their shoulder at me. “You’re half-Denzan. Are you not faithful?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Faithful to what?”
“I thought your uncle Tycius would’ve explained,” Aela replied, with a tone like they were happy to be the one delivering this information. “The primary religion on Denza is the Great Shame. According to their lore, eons ago the Denzans did something really, really horrible. It was so bad that it led to planet-wide strife and a dark age. So much time has passed that there aren’t even records of what they did, but the shame left an indelible mark on Denzan culture. They practice nonviolence and are extremely conscientious about any harm they cause, whether it be physical or mental. When they do something that they view as negative to society—such as a violent altercation with a stranger or lying to a spouse—they bind a part of themselves until they’ve repaid their shame.”
I thought about the three narrow bands that Tycius wore around his bicep—only two now, actually; he’d removed one on the ride here. My uncle had mentioned his shame back at the diner—maybe that band he’d freed himself of represented how he’d lost track of me. Anyway, Ty’s shame seemed like nothing compared to Arkell keeping his whole arm locked up.
“Arkell must have done something really messed up,” I said.
“It’s not really polite to gossip about, especially not with Denzans,” Aela warned me. “It’s probably good you didn’t mention it around Batzian and Melian. Such a misstep could’ve hurt your attempts to bond with them.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” I said.
The next section of the ship was broken up by a dozen rooms, most of the doors closed, accessible only by handprint scanners.
“These are the crew quarters,” Aela said. They stopped in front of a door and gestured for me to press my palm to the scanner. “This one is yours.”
After recording my biometric data, the door slid open, revealing a space that was comfortably larger than any of my old bedrooms on Earth. A queen-size bed decorated with shiny, soft-looking sheets jutted out from one wall. I also had a simple metal desk, a couple of lounge chairs, and a whole bunch of leafy green plants. Off to one side was a sliding glass door that led into a private bathroom. The far wall was dominated by a window—more likely a touch screen, like the walls I’d seen on Ty’s skiff—currently displaying a view of the wormhole pocket inside Jupiter. There was also a closet full of uniforms, so next time I could look spiffy enough to meet Batzian’s approval.
“The Eastwood currently does twenty hours of light followed by ten hours of artificial night,” Aela said. “Right now, it’s what you would think of on Earth as the afternoon. Midshift, we call it. It’ll take some getting used to, so don’t feel guilty if you need to nap.”
“I’m right across the hall here,” Aela said, opening the door to their room.
Aela’s room was completely empty. No furniture or plants. Nothing. Just the touch screen on the far wall and a bunch of extra vents on the floor and ceiling. I raised an eyebrow.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” I said.
“Thanks!”
“You don’t sleep?”
Aela shook their head. “No. My consciousness doesn’t need a reset like you organic creatures. Thank goodness. I don’t know how you stand it.”
“Sleep is pretty good, actually,” I replied. “Definitely one of my top five favorite activities.”
“It’s a good thing you came to the Vastness,” Aela said, “because it sounds like you need to do more stuff.”
It was hard to tell with Aela’s super-positive voice, but I was pretty sure they were making a joke at my expense, so I laughed. Anyway, they were right—I hadn’t gotten to experience much on Earth. Up here, I was going to jump in with both feet. “You said before that we share the same point in the life cycle,” I said, the two of us continuing down the corridor. “Does that mean we’re the same age?”
“Not exactly. How long have you been alive?”
“I’m sixteen,” I said.
“I’ve only been in this exo-suit as a solitary entity for three years,” Aela replied. “But I’ve amassed the experience of a human roughly your age.”
“So you’re a toddler.”
Aela put their arms out, locked their knees, and waddled. “There actually was a period where I couldn’t operate the limbs of my suit.” They jumped up and clicked their heels. “Only took me a few weeks to master, though. I’d like to see one of your human toddlers match my moves.”
I chuckled. “Me too.”
Before we could leave the crew quarters, a clamor erupted from within the cabin at the end of the hall. I noticed that the door to that room had been specially modified to be wider and taller than any of the others. But what was more bewildering were the high-volume shouts emanating from within, each punctuated by punching and crunching sounds.
Someone in there was watching Japanese professional wrestling.
“Whose room is that?” I asked.
Aela hesitated. “Once you’ve had a chance to settle in, we have a day planned for integration training where you’ll get to spend some closely monitored time with the species that are typically difficult for Earthlings to accept. Until then, Captain Reno has asked our Panalax and Vulpin crewmates to remain in their quarters. It’s a standard cultural quarantine.”
Tycius hadn’t mentioned these Panalax guys, but I breezed right by that anyway. I knew what a Vulpin was. I’d seen one attack my mom. Now I found myself staring at that oversize door.
“There’s a Vulpin in there? Watching wrestling?”
“No, Zara is down the hall,” Aela replied. “That’s H’Jossu’s room. Our resident Panalax.” The wisp tugged at my arm. “We shouldn’t linger. He’s eager to meet you and . . .”
I heard the wrestling’s volume click down, and then something large shuffled toward the door.
“Eager to meet me?” I asked, confused. “Why—?”
“He’s a scholar of Earth culture,” Aela said. “Now, we should—”
Before the wisp could urge me along, the overlarge doors zipped open.
The Panalax was enormous. It had to be nine feet tall and about four hundred pounds. The thing was like a giant sloth, fur shaggy and matted, long clawed fingers, an ample backside. Its face was more bovine than marsupial, though, with a thick snout like a cow that featured three prominent horns.
All of that I could’ve handled, I think. But the creature was also very obviously dead and decaying.
H’Jossu was covered in snowy mold, like hummus that had been left in the fridge too long. The growth was focused around his eyes and mouth—filled them, in fact, so that his orifices were just fungal mounds. The mold spread across his massive body and seemed to be holding him together in places. At first, I thought he wore a floral-print shirt like some kind of beach bum cadaver, but those pink flowers were actually sprouting right from his skin. The Panalax looked like he should stink, but I had to admit that he smelled kind of good, like a pine forest air freshener.
He stared at me. I stared at him. I felt hot bile rising in the back of my throat. I wanted to scream and run away, but my feet were frozen to the floor.
“Yes,” H’Jossu said, his voice like rustling leaves, emanating from the mold itself. “Yes, you are finally here.”
“He’s not ready for you yet,” Aela warned H’Jossu.
The Panalax ignored them and advanced toward me, one of his hooked claws extended in my direction.
“I have so many questions,” he rumbled. “First . . .”
Before H’Jossu could finish, I swatted at his claw. Punched at it, really. All I knew, in that moment, was that I needed to keep this monster out of my personal space. Humans have evolved to fear large animals and be repulsed by dead things, so that was my natural reaction when confronted by both. I couldn’t stop myself.
My fist struck H’Jossu’s outstretched finger with enough force that the entire digit ripped off and flew down the hallway. Aela made a sound like a gasp and put their hands atop their helmet. H’Jossu barked in pain.
I stared down at my fist.
I was getting stronger.
I was getting stronger, and I’d just maimed one of my new crewmates.
11
I braced myself for this undead Chewbacca to retaliate, but H’Jossu only turned to watch his finger fly down the corridor. The severed claw bounced to a stop a few doors away.
I’d wanted to come to the Vastness with an open mind. I’d hoped that my mom’s training would have prepared me for anything. But I’d barely been aboard the Eastwood for an hour, and I definitely wasn’t doing any favors for the reputation of “primitive Earth.” I immediately felt bad for letting my instincts take over, and I wanted to say so, but my heart was still pounding and there was cold sweat dripping down my back. He’d really scared the shit out of me.
“Damn, dude,” H’Jossu said in his raspy voice. “That was bad-ass. True Earther mind-set. Strike first, ask questions later.”
H’Jossu trundled down the hallway. He shoved his finger back onto his paw, a coil of foamy mold securing it. My stomach turned over.
“You scared him,” Aela said, scolding H’Jossu. “You were supposed to stay in your quarters. I haven’t even had a chance to brief Sydney on your species.”
H’Jossu’s shoulders sagged. “My bad.”
I cleared my throat and finally managed to speak, my voice nearly as scratchy as the Panalax’s. “No, I mean, I’m sorry—I, uh, didn’t mean to punch your finger off.”
H’Jossu flexed his paw. “It’s cool. Things fall off me sometimes.”
My face felt flushed. I looked down at my hands, clenching the fingers, which vibrated like I’d just smashed a fastball in a baseball game. All my muscles felt like that, actually. Like they were just waking up.
Aela touched my arm. “Are you okay, Syd?”
“I’m not contagious,” H’Jossu offered. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m fine,” I replied, pinching the bridge of my nose as I fought off a sudden feeling of vertigo. “Just a lot happening right now.”
“I think you broke the Earthling’s brain, H,” said a silky voice.
In the ruckus with H’Jossu, I hadn’t even heard the door behind me hiss open. I glanced over my shoulder and found a Vulpin girl eyeing me. I recoiled immediately and took a stumbling step into the middle of the hallway, trying to keep my distance from this latest extraterrest
rial.
“Yep,” the Vulpin confirmed. “Definitely broken.”
Ever since the memory of my mom’s attack resurfaced, I’d been dwelling on the nightmarish werewolf creature that I’d seen mauling her in the shadows. Honestly, though, this Vulpin wasn’t all that scary, especially not compared to H’Jossu. Her skin was bronze where it wasn’t covered in patches of rust-colored fur. The fur across her shoulders was styled in a puffed-out shelf that made it look like she was wearing a regal mantle. The Vulpin had a doglike snout and pinned-back, pointy ears. A bushy tail protruded from her uniform, swishing around behind her. She was about a foot shorter than me and barefoot—barepaw?—her claws clicking idly on the floor.
Basically, she looked like a talking fox straight out of some video game or puppet show. If I hadn’t seen how savagely these creatures could behave, I probably would’ve found her cute, like a cat wearing a sweater.
“You guys are really bad at following orders,” Aela said.
“I heard a commotion,” the Vulpin said, her hard eyes still fixed upon me. “I thought we might have been boarded by pirates.”
“There are no pirates out here, Zara,” Aela replied. “You know there aren’t pirates.”
Zara shrugged. “A girl can hope.” She sniffed the air in my direction. “You smell scared, human. You should go wash that off. It’s rank.”
With that, Zara slid back into her room and closed the door. I begrudgingly sniffed one of my armpits.
“That was Zara,” Aela said. “You weren’t supposed to meet her yet either. She’s—”
“A Vulpin,” I said, then quickly added, “My uncle told me about them.”
For a moment there, I actually forgot all about H’Jossu. When he rustled a step closer, though, I shot a look in his direction, immediately feeling that revulsion once again. The Panalax stopped trying to come closer.
“Sorry I scared you,” he said, clasping his mammoth paws behind his back. “I just—well, I’m a huge fan of Earth.”
“You’re—?” I rubbed the back of my neck, forcing myself to look at him, completely baffled by his statement. “A fan of what exactly?”