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The Loneliness of Stars

Page 4

by Z. M. Wilmot


  ~Captain Kailash Beldron, in her speech refusing the post of leader of the Ambassador expedition

  I liked Ezekiel’s room a lot. It was in an out of the way location – behind the galleys – and was much more spacious than I would have thought it would be, taking into account the fact that he was just a cook’s assistant. He had a bunk bed, for whatever reason. He slept on the top and used the bottom bunk for storage. He sighed and began to move his things to drawers. “You’ll sleep here, I guess. I don’t know what you want to do about clothes – maybe you should talk to Gerald about that later today. He manages our clothing – he can probably scrounge up some things for you.”

  After settling me in, he began to show me around the ship. We started at the bow. He showed me the secret bow storage, which had been stocked by Joseph and Korzos themselves, so that the Dock “rats” wouldn’t know about it – he looked at me apologetically as he said it. We then walked up to the door outside the steering room, where Fineas spent most of his time. Ezekiel said it was a fairly large room, and never locked, but Fineas was liable to bite your head off if you barged in – unless you were either Mather or the captain.

  Behind the steering room was the largest room on the ship (other than the cargo hold) – the bridge. It was the area that Methuselah had dragged me to. Korzos spent most of his time here, talking via teleholo to Fineas and communicating with the other members of his crew. The crew never seemed to do much, and I asked Ezekiel about it. He said that they were mostly reserve soldiers and political placements, so didn’t have much to do. They did perform a few basic maintenance tasks aboard the ship – like observatory duty and some cleaning – and did lots of military drills. As I entered the room, I was greeted in a surprisingly friendly manner by most of the crew gathered there. Korzos and Mather were talking to Fineas in the center, but the other crewmembers in the room came over to say hello.

  Ezekiel introduced some of them, but most of them introduced themselves. Two of the officers were in the group – Peter Robos and Rafael Donnar – and they all seemed very nice. Through several minutes of active conversation with them all, I learned that Peter had actually started his own starfaring career as a stowaway. I was surprised to learn that quite a few others had done the same – they all congratulated me on my good work, and asked how I had managed to stay hidden for so long. Kyle, a nice man with very short blond hair, said that he had managed it only for five weeks, and he had never seen anyone last longer. I told them about how I had packed an extra crate for myself, but I remembered to leave all mention of Ezekiel out of my tale – as well as my own stupidity in blocking off my own crate. They were suitably impressed.

  After a while, Ezekiel extracted me from the group, saying that he needed to finish his tour. They all waved goodbye to me as we walked off. I felt much better about myself after that experience. As we exited the bridge, I noticed a man leaning against the far wall, watching me intently with dark blue eyes. He was bald, and had a silver stud earring in his left ear. There was a writhing purple tattoo on the rounded canvas of his head, and he was dressed in tight black clothing, with an open (also black) leather vest over it. I shivered. He did not look like a friendly man, and I had learned to trust my instincts.

  Ezekiel caught me looking at him, and pulled me out of the room. “I wouldn’t stare back if I were you, Jak. That’s Ivor – almost as bad-tempered as Fineas, if not more so. And he’s also pretty creepy. He’s from Ryussa – has to be, with a name like Ivoranov Karazkevitch Karanov.” I wondered why he had put that name in his memory. “I would avoid him if I were you. Don’t talk to him. It shouldn’t be too hard – he keeps to himself mostly anyway.” I nodded to show that I was listening and had understood, and we carried on.

  He showed me to three different mess rooms, two training areas, the door to the officer’s mess (which I was never to enter on pain of death), and various crewmembers’ lodgings. On the way to the third mess, we ran into a man with long brown hair flowing from underneath a brightly colored bandana, dressed in tight blue pants and wearing wristguards and gigantic sunglasses.

  I recognized him instantly. His name was Adam Sansson – he was an Irish spy who had been caught in Baja and imprisoned there for a while. I knew because I had been there when he was caught, standing about five meters away. The incident hadn’t been well-publicized, only receiving an offhand mention on some minor news holos.

  Ezekiel introduced him by his real name. I was surprised that he hadn’t even bothered to change it, but I hid it well. I nodded a greeting, and we continued onward. I felt his eyes on my back as I continued walking; I hoped he didn’t recognize me. Not that I was sure it would mean anything for my safety if I did. I wondered why he was on the crew. Had he escaped and was using this ship to get away? Had he been released? Forced into Bajan service? I had no idea, and soon stopped thinking about it.

  As we began to work our way into the bowels of the ship, back towards the galley and cargo bays, we met the two female crewmembers, Angela and Michaela. They acted more like boys than girls – or at least a lot like the poor girls back in Raheera. Neither of them had been born on Earth, though – Angela was from Adenia and Michaela from Ulkind. Angela had a short blond mess of hair, and Michaela had long, smooth, brown hair tied back in a ponytail.

  We carried on. Eventually we reached a door with a palmlock. “That’s the way to the science labs – Uriel and Abdul live down there. They hardly ever emerge. I think Uriel’s a biologist and Abdul’s a chemist.”

  “No physicist?” I was surprised. Physicists were essential on spaceflights – or so I had been told. I don’t remember by whom.

  “Fetherkap is one. He’s one of the assistant engineers.” I nodded. That made sense.

  Moving on, he then showed me the maintenance room. There were three men sitting around a circular table. I jumped and tried to walk backwards when I saw Methuselah, but Ezekiel grabbed my hand to stop me, grinning. He whispered to me, “Don’t worry, they won’t bite… too hard.” I let him pull me back in. He addressed the inhabitants of the room. “This is Jak. I’m showing him around.”

  A thin, wiry man with the most ridiculous gray moustache I had ever seen leapt to his feet. “Jolly good! Come on in, chaps! Have a seat.”

  Methuselah grinned evilly at me. “Nice ta’ see you still ‘board the ship. Lucky thin’ Korzos didn’ space ye.”

  The thin man slapped Methuselah on the back, sending him into a coughing fit. “Hush, Methuselah, don’t scare the boy so. We’ve got to give him a proper welcome!”

  He stood up, walked around the table that the three men had been sitting around, and enthusiastically shook my hand. “The name’s Matthias. Matthias Newson, Chief Engineer of this ship. Or, as I like to call myself, chief fixer-upper of the magical maintenance municipality!” I wasn’t sure if that made sense, but I smiled anyway.

  “I hear you’ve already met Methuselah, eh, lad?” He winked and elbowed me. I smiled thinly and nodded.

  “And him that’s sitting next to him is the esteemed Daniel Fetherkap, my assistant and the unofficial physicist of the group.”

  Fetherkap smiled. “I also happen to be the official physicist of the ship, Newson. Don’t forget that or I’ll have to convert you into Darievan energy.” He laughed. “You’ll probably be of more use to us that way.” Methuselah nodded in solemn agreement and stared down into his drink, as if he was looking for something hidden at the bottom.

  Matthias sighed. “No one appreciates the work of a good engineer. We just get bawled at when we mess something up. And Fetherkap, I told you to call me Matthias. I hate chaps being all formal around me.”

  “And that’s why we do it, mate.” Fetherkap winked at me and stood up. “I think I’ll join these two on their tour.”

  We said goodbye to Matthias and Methuselah, and Ezekiel, Daniel and I continued on our way. Daniel opened up the engine room for us, and explained how it worked. He said something about it drawing energy from some strange medium that
physicists had taken to calling the Ethyr. No fuel was required, and it could heat the ship too. I didn’t understand much of else of what he said, and I’m pretty sure Ezekiel didn’t either.

  Daniel accompanied us for about half an hour before he said goodbye and walked off to go check up on something or other. By that time, Ezekiel and I had almost finished our tour. The last stop on our journey was a place even more remote than the galley. It was the priest’s lodgings. The priest was a nice man named Lazarus Lanoné. He was Christian Universalist, so could hear confessions and help out anyone from just about any branch of Christianity. As far as I knew, that meant everyone except Ezekiel. And me, I guess. I never cared much for religion. As far as I was concerned, any god who let me live like I had lived in Raheera wasn’t worth worshipping.

  We left Lazarus and returned to the galley. Joseph, going back on his promise to set me to work tomorrow, put me to work washing dishes immediately. Ezekiel scurried around, chopping up food and throwing things to Joseph whenever he needed them. I was sweating profusely after only a few minutes, and I was soaked by the time we were done an hour later. I asked Ezekiel if Joseph ever left the kitchen. He shrugged. “Maybe once or twice. Total.”

  I asked Ezekiel how many people he was feeding, and he said only forty-nine, then corrected himself and said fifty, with a smirk at me. I then asked why he spent so much time in the kitchen if he wasn’t cooking for that many people. Joseph apparently heard me, and turned and stared at me in horror.

  “Just because I don’t serve many people doesn’t mean I can slack off! I make only the best food for those under my charge, and give them what they need to stay healthy, while at the same time making sure everything is still delicious! Oh, and also, by tomorrow, give me a piece of paper – borrow some from Ezekiel if you must – with your favorite meals and foods on it. Just because you’re on half-rations doesn’t mean you can’t eat well!”

  When we went to sleep that night, after taking a much-needed short shower – each of us got on every four days – I was exhausted and sore all over. I didn’t know that cooking could be such hard work. Although, actually, I suppose I didn’t really cook – I just scrubbed dishes. And I had already known how hard that work could be. So nevermind that.

  I was very tired, and I fell asleep almost immediately.

  5

  “Engineers get stuck with all the crummy jobs – I don’t know why I wanted so badly to be one. In fact, I don’t know why anyone would ever want to be one – all they really ever do is clean and tinker with machinery. It might seem fascinating at first, but it soon loses its luster. No one appreciates you – you’re just doing your job, no matter how skilled you are, until something goes wrong – then you become a failure and an incompetent buffoon.”

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