by S. H. Jucha
“You understand correctly, Jittak,” Tacticnok replied.
“It’s the aliens’ interpretation that concerns me. Do you think they understood that the food we offer isn’t us?” Jittak asked.
One of the soldiers coughed, his food suddenly sticking in his throat, and he quickly swallowed most of his drink to wash the impediment down.
“I don’t think you’re giving these aliens enough credit,” Jaktook replied. “Every alliance member journeys via the Messinants’ gates. These gates have offered enormous benefits for every race. Which one of them has chosen to travel to another star by ship?”
Jittak nodded his understanding of Jaktook’s argument.
“I can’t conceive of any species daring to do what they’ve done or conceiving of how they’ve done it,” Jaktook continued. “But I’m sure of one thing. These aliens have nothing in common with the Gasnarians, and, I, for one, am anxious to meet them. My greatest concern is that they’re no longer here, having sailed on to find a more hospitable home world. Tomorrow, I’ll assemble the long-range scope. It’s my hope to see some activity on or around Gasnar.”
Tacticnok could see the effect that Jaktook’s words had on the team. It calmed them and gave them an alternate perspective. She glanced at him, admiration shining in her eyes.
-15-
They’re Back
“This might sound a little odd,” Jessie said. He was working late at his desk aboard the Spryte. He’d called Harbour, not really expecting her to be awake.
“I’m an empath, Jessie. Our entire life is odd compared to normals,” Harbour replied. It might have come across as harsh, except she ended her words with a warm chuckle.
The sound of Harbour’s mellow laughter was one of the reasons Jessie had called her. He missed that sound. In two days, their ships would sail for Emperion, and it would be another blur of six to eight months of hard work moving slush. That Jessie didn’t make time for his own pleasures was one of his bad habits, but this was a tough one to break after so many years of entrenchment.
“I wanted to invite you to dinner tomorrow evening,” Jessie said.
“Why is that odd, Jessie?” Harbour asked.
“I was wondering if we could dine in your quarters,” Jessie said, feeling a little awkward about his proposal.
Harbour burst out laughing. “And why shouldn’t you prefer to dine aboard the Belle, Jessie? That just shows your superior taste in atmosphere, food, and company, I might add.”
“Shall we say seventeen hundred hours?” Jessie suggested.
“I’ll see you then, Jessie,” Harbour replied, cutting the call. She placed her comm unit on the bedside table. It was programmed to chime, at all hours, for a few special callers, such as Yasmin, Dingles, and Jessie. She turned over, pulled the covers up to her neck, and fell into a deep sleep filled with pleasant dreams.
The next day passed swiftly for Harbour. There remained one day before the Belle launched for Emperion, and there was a tremendous number of last-minute details to accomplish. She did ensure that she informed Nadine of her dinner guest.
“A business conversation with the captain?” Nadine asked, projecting a bit of annoyance.
“Captain Cinders requested we meet,” Harbour replied.
Nadine perceived the pleasure that leaked through Harbour’s blocks.
“The captain asked you to dinner?” Nadine said. “Well, well, our captain dining with a normal for the pleasure of it.”
“And look who’s talking,” Harbour riposted. “As if you and Dingles aren’t one of the coziest pair of empath and normal aboard this ship.”
“Dingles is critical to this ship’s operation. As such, I’m ensuring his mental health by taking a personal interest in his care.” Nadine’s serious expression lasted a few seconds before she burst out laughing, and Harbour joined her.
“Seriously, Nadine, how does it work for the two of you?” Harbour asked.
“It’s new territory for both of us, Harbour,” Nadine replied, slipping into the familiar. “On the one hand, Dingles appreciates empaths, especially after what you did for him. To me, he’s a breath of fresh air, like walking into one of the hydroponic gardens. I want to share what I feel with him, but I don’t want to worry him that I’m always broadcasting.”
“So, what do you do?” Harbour pressed.
“We’ve arranged simple signals. It was Dingles’ idea. He’s borrowing from his years as a spacer. My default condition, as he calls it, is that I’m not sending when I’m in his presence. We have to agree, usually with a quick hand signal, that an exchange is welcome.”
“That way the two of you know when you’re about to have a therapy session,” Harbour replied, nodding her understanding. “Anytime other than that?”
Nadine’s moment of embarrassment quickly passed. She knew Harbour was anxious for the information. “We use the signals in bed. It’s easier than talking about it, at those sensitive moments, which happen more frequently than I would have thought possible. For his age, the man is amazingly … active.” She smiled and held up her hands, as if to say, you asked.
If Nadine was expecting Harbour to laugh, it didn’t happen. Instead, Harbour stared thoughtfully into space. “Talk about a relationship fraught with problems, Nadine. You have my sympathy, or perhaps you don’t need it.”
“Not for me, sister,” Nadine replied, grinning. “With the right man, so many things are possible. Don’t worry about your dinner, Captain; it’ll be our pleasure.”
Much later in the day, Harbour was meeting with a group of residents and a few new engineers, who were responsible for opening two more hydroponic gardens and deciding what to grow. One of the engineers, Darby, who was an experienced biologist, wanted to work on creating new cultures for the protein vats to vary the colony ship’s output.
“The Belle’s library has an extensive list of recipes for proteins, Captain. I’ve no idea what some of these things would taste like, but I’m anxious to try,” Darby said.
Harbour gave him permission to resurrect two of the protein vats to experiment with recipes.
“Any of these items that you might be partial to trying, Captain?” Darby asked.
Harbour saw the list appear in her comm unit. It was dizzying in its length. “You choose,” she replied. “We’ll use the cantina as the testing ground. If the spacers hate your choices, I’m sure they’ll let you know.”
Darby briefly blanched. “Perhaps, I should ask our spacers to choose what they wish me to create. It might be safer that way.”
Harbour chuckled. “My thought exactly, Darby.” At that moment, her comm unit chimed, and she glanced at it. “Sorry, must go,” she said to the group and left the meeting. As important as the dinner was to her, the needs of the day had consumed her time. She had less than a half hour to get ready, and she was a good ten minutes from her cabin, deep in the lower levels of the colony ship.
“Dingles, I need you,” Harbour called via her comm unit.
“Here, Captain,” Dingles replied.
“Captain Cinders will be inbound to the Belle,” Harbour said.
“Not to worry, Captain. His shuttle is on approach. The captain will be on time,” Dingles replied, pleased to put his captain’s mind at rest.
“But I won’t be,” Harbour said tensely.
“Understood, Captain. How much time do you need?”
“Not too much, Dingles. Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes past seventeen hundred. I know Captain Cinders likes to be prompt.”
“That he does, Captain. I’ll take care of it. Anything else? Would you like to know our hand signals or would you two like to work those out for yourselves?”
“Do Nadine and you share everything, Dingles?” Harbour exclaimed. She was becoming breathless, hurrying through corridors. Residents, spacers, and empaths were startled and worked to evade her. Harbour attempted to smile to indicate there wasn’t a problem, but she wondered if it didn’t appear more like a grimace.
“Pretty much, Captain. Keeps the relationship real interesting,” Dingles replied.
“How about you take care of your duties, First Mate,” Harbour retorted.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Dingles replied.
Harbour could hear Dingles’ muted snicker before he ended the call. She couldn’t help but smile and thank her stars for rescuing the man from a deadly sentence in security confinement. Space dementia would have surely claimed Dingles’ sanity and then his life, if he had faced incarceration.
Harbour made her cabin and burst through the door, startling the three empaths setting the table.
“I thought maybe you decided to teach the captain a lesson and stand him up,” Yasmin commented drily.
Rather than vocally reply, Harbour offered Yasmin a taste of her pique, as she hurried on to her sleeping quarters. In her haste, the other two empaths, Lindsey and Nadine received what she sent. As the sleeping quarters’ door closed, they grinned at one another.
“Be careful of your tongue, Yasmin,” Nadine warned. “This isn’t a simple occasion for Harbour.”
“Agreed,” Lindsey echoed. “I haven’t seen Harbour flustered like this for longer than I can remember.”
There wasn’t much time for Harbour to do more than shower quickly. She left her hair dry and wound it on top of her head, pinning it in place with a piece of Makana’s jewelry. Digging through a small box of keepsakes, she pulled out a pair of long, delicate earrings. Her mother had pressed them into her hand, when security came to take her away and ship her off to the Belle.
Harbour had never worn the earrings, out of anger with her mother for letting go of her. Now, many years later, it seemed appropriate to forgive her mother and wear them. She slipped on her best pair of skins and applied a delicate amount of makeup with a mist mask.
Standing in front of a full-length mirror, Harbour eyed her reflection. She was never one to laud over her genetic gifts. This time, the image of the mature woman, with her graceful curves and captivating face, stared back at her. I need all the help I can get, Harbour thought, accepting the mirror’s image.
When Harbour returned to the salon, the table caught her eye. It was incredibly well laid out, and her friends stood silently by.
“Thank you,” Harbour said, and hugged each one of them.
The women filed out, as Jessie approached the cabin. It was Nadine who noticed that he came by way of the bridge and not the main corridor that would be the usual approach from the bay. Dingles, you clever man, she thought. I must show you my appreciation tonight.
Jessie smiled at the women and entered the salon, closing the door behind him. “Evening, Harbour,” he said, adding, “It’s a beautiful table.”
“I’ll let the women know that you appreciate their efforts,” Harbour replied, “and thank you for the invitation to my own cabin.” She smiled at her jest.
“A man must be prepared to make sacrifices for the good of his stomach,” Jessie replied, as he and Harbour sat at the table.
The pair chatted, while they served themselves. They discussed a length of stay at Emperion, the number of tanks they should fill, and the expected coin from the payout. The conversation was easy, and neither of them was admitting how much they enjoyed the company of the other.
While the captains’ dinner was underway, the bridge was a hive of activity. The effort was duplicated throughout the Belle, with the ship preparing to get underway in the morning. That meant hundreds of systems were undergoing final checks.
Birdie was about to make a comm call, when a flash of blue caught her eye. The bridge crew halted in mid-motions to view the central monitor, the one receiving the broadcast from Triton. Seconds passed, as the events unfolded at the dome before Birdie grabbed her comm unit and called, “They’re back, Dingles.”
“Who’s back?” Dingles asked.
“The aliens at Triton,” Birdie replied.
Dingles rushed to the bridge in time to see the aliens, having descended the platform, at work unloading crates. “Birdie, reset playback from the recording to when they first appear. I’ll get the captain.” As Dingles rushed to the captains’ quarters, he thought, Harbour’s going to hate me for interrupting her dinner.
Harbour was about to bring up the subject of Dingles and Nadine. It was her way of letting Jessie know that a relationship between an empath and a normal was possible. But, the urgent knock at the door interrupted her.
“Enter,” Harbour called out, trying to keep any annoyance out of her voice.
“Captain, my apologies for intruding, but you’re needed immediately on the bridge,” Dingles announced.
Harbour could detect the anxiety sweeping off Dingles in a rush, and she jumped up from the table. “Come, Captain,” Harbour said to Jessie, and she hurried after Dingles.
When Harbour and Jessie made the bridge, Dingles said, “Captains, the dome was activated moments ago. Birdie, start the playback.”
Harbour, Jessie, Dingles, and the bridge crew were transfixed as they watched the scene unfold at the dome.
When one alien approached the edge of the dome and the helmet slid away, Jessie commented, “That one was here before, doing the same thing. I think it’s focusing on our equipment array.”
“How can you tell it’s the same one, Captain?” Dingles asked.
“By the coloring of the face, tawny fur, and the ridge along the skull’s top has a reddish tint. At least, I think it does. It’s hard to tell hues looking through the blue energy field of the dome. I think it’s wondering if the array is still there. They have to be curious about who activated the dome.” Jessie chuckled, which eased some of the tension on the bridge. “I bet they’re wondering where the heck we are.”
“Captain Harbour, am I reading this wrong,” Birdie asked, “or do the aliens look as if they’re setting up a permanent camp?”
“Looks like it, Birdie,” Harbour agreed, as they watched the aliens return from below decks, unpack crates, and set up pedestals and pallets.
“What does everyone else see when they look at the group now?” Jessie asked, after the aliens were divested of their vac suits and had finished setting up their cots.
“What do you mean, Captain?” Dingles asked.
“When we’ve not been saying alien, we’ve been saying creature or it. Looks to me like there might be genders,” Jessie replied.
“Undoubtedly, Captain,” Harbour stated emphatically. “I thought that part was obvious. Two females and six males.”
“Absolutely,” Birdie chimed in.
Jessie and Dingles exchanged glances.
“Identified by …” Jessie asked, leaving the question open.
“Stature and coloring,” Harbour promptly supplied. “The two females are more diminutive. The males are broader and heavier. And, of course, the females have prettier coloring.”
Birdie and two other women snickered. One female crew member tried to hide hers by coughing.
“Okay, assuming you’re correct,” Jessie allowed. “Then it’s the female who’s inviting us to dinner,” he said, gesturing at the monitor.
After extending the invitation and finishing their meals, the aliens turned in for the evening, adding masks over their faces against the glare of the dome.
“That’s odd,” Dingles said. “Obviously, there are rooms below, although I didn’t hear about them from Aurelia. But, they left their vac suits below and they prepared meals down there. Yet, they intend to sleep on the dome’s deck with that incessant blue light. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Yes, it does,” Harbour replied. “We’re looking at the overtures of first contact. The female, who is leading the group, is demonstrating that she has nothing to hide. She’s made the offer of food and drink. Furthermore, the same number of them arrived as last time, and they’re waiting on the upper deck. They’re not hiding. They want us to be comfortable about coming to speak with them. That invitation is emphasized by leaving the deck wedge open.”
The entire bridge
stared at the sleeping forms of the aliens for a few minutes before Harbour said, “Captain Cinders, I think we should have an after-dinner drink and talk.”
“Agreed,” Jessie said.
“You’re going, aren’t you?” Harbour asked, after Jessie and she were seated at her salon’s table. The remains of their dinners were cold on their plates, but the centuries-old brandy warmed their stomachs.
“I don’t think we have a choice, Harbour. One of us has to go, and, last time I checked, you aren’t vac-suit rated,” Jessie replied. “And, after all, I need the practice. I’m just getting the hang of responding to exotic females,” he added, grinning.
Harbour detected the genuine happiness exuding from Jessie, but she was far from content with his decision. “What about the Belle and Emperion?” she objected.
“I’m thinking we can do both, Harbour. The Belle, the Spryte, and the Pearl go on to Emperion. Ituau can command the Spryte. I’ll join Yohlin on the Annie and take her ship to Triton.”
“With what intention?” Harbour asked.
“Staying alive,” Jessie responded, an eyebrow arching and a mouth quirking to underline his attempt at humor.
“Seriously, Jessie,” Harbour shot back, and Jessie could feel an intense mix of emotions from Harbour.
Jessie held up his hands in apology. “Sorry, poor joke. In the past year, I’ve gotten used to the idea that aliens exist in the galaxy. It makes me wonder how many other civilizations exist, and I, for one, would love to know what sort of technology they possess. We must have looked like idiots at the dome, stumbling around, activating it, and then desperate to get out. Here they come, traipsing in and out like we’d go through an airlock. It’s obvious that they regularly transport through these domes.”
“Do you think they might have more than one of these gates where they come from?” Harbour asked.
“Good question,” Jessie replied. “All I know is a lot of our people have been sitting over top of this choked planet, wrestling with a lack of space, and there are aliens on Triton who might possess the wherewithal to help us. Isn’t that worth the risk of meeting them?”