by Ginger Booth
“Devil’s advocate, maybe it’s none of our business,” Sass countered. “Would we demand the right to spy on any other crew? Maybe we need to accept them as people, just a different kind. Loki and Floki are entitled to meet each other if they want.”
“Loki’s up to something.”
“Always,” Sass agreed. “So are we.”
“Is it weird that I like Floki, dislike Bloki, and trust Loki as much a used flyer salesman?”
“Not really. You like me and Clay.”
“I don’t see you as an AI. You’re a woman plus, not a machine plus. No more than Floki is really an emu. I just feel like the Loki clones present policy issues of cosmic significance. Which humanity should debate and decide wisely. But instead he keeps landing on my desk while I’m trying to run my little fleet. The sheer power of this AI gives me the heebie-jeebies. Who am I to decide his fate? I’m just winging it.”
Sass quirked a lip. “The Golden Rule works.”
Ben chuckled. “OK. But I could argue that for now, you’re in a precarious position. So this meeting could wait until after your year on Sylvan. You are going to leave Sylvan, aren’t you?”
“I… It’s pretty. And there’s so much to do, and learn, and see! But yeah. I don’t see staying here indefinitely. They really need us now, though.”
Ben sighed. “You’re giving them a lot. So am I. I wonder if they appreciate that.”
“They have funny ways of showing it,” Sass allowed.
He laughed out loud. “They do indeed. So I’ll allow the conversation with Loki if you will.”
“And I’ll allow it if Floki wants it. Hang on, I’ll ask.”
She commed the emu. He sounded daunted, but honored that his progenitor wished to meet him.
She turned back to Ben. “Floki says yes. I’ll leave the usual recorders on. But if he turns them off, what am I going to do, fire him? Ben, he’s indispensable. His ability to monitor dozens of cameras at all times is a godsend. Doesn’t even interrupt his assigned crew tasks. Works all night repairing things. I ought to pay him six times as much as Nico. And I’m underpaying Nico. Your kid could qualify as third officer today.”
Ben smiled softly. “Chip off the old block, huh? Thank you for saying so. OK, I’ll make a date with Loki, and leave a message on your ansible. Onion juice, huh?”
“You don’t think Tikki?”
He shook his head slowly. “I don’t think any Denali would knowingly endanger another. But anyone who cut those lines did. Though perhaps they didn’t realize how serious that was.”
She nodded. “Point. Good to see you.”
“And you. Now is that seven-day response window I warned you about, remember. Take care, old friend. Even if I can’t reach you to help, keep me informed, OK?”
“Quick work, well done, Rocha!” Sass beamed at Clay and draped herself against him for a quick peck on the nose.
“Huh! I should make nose snifters more often.” He’d made fifty of the squirt-bottles. Nico and Floki rigged a hose to fill them from a gallon jug of the dark brown iodine solution, a couple ounces apiece. Clay somehow remained immaculate, while Nico and Floki sported orange splotches everywhere, and the hold deck as well.
Tikki Cook stood by with the wet mop, looking nervous. “They’ll be OK? Tikka Gena and everyone?”
“That’s the plan!” Sass smiled firmly, and started racking filled bottles into a carrying carton. “Who wants to carry them to the healers? We could go,” she suggested to Clay.
Clay tipped his head toward Tikki Cook. Kaol sat behind him. They’d just returned from their sledding expedition. “Might work better with cultural translation.”
“I could –” Tikki began.
“No!” Kaol barked.
Sass turned to stare at him, as did the other three. Tikki looked blank. Kaol glared at him. “OK. Gentlemen, I suggest you take – whatever that was – to your cabin. Work it out. Clay, we can talk to the healers. Done it before.” She resumed packing her carton as her Denali crew shuffled up the stairs as ordered. “Do you have any idea…?”
Floki and Nico shook their heads and kept their eyes on their work.
“Maybe I’ll stay behind and find out,” Clay murmured.
“I could keep you company, Tante Sass,” Nico offered.
“No, thanks, this is light.” She smiled at him and lowered her voice. “And when the security guy is malfunctioning, I’d prefer you stay here and back up Clay.”
“Not that Clay needs backup,” Clay noted.
“Takes two to break up a domestic quarrel.”
“Point.”
Soon she had her 50 bottles of foul-smelling nose dye, and headed out the bio-lock. The blizzard conditions brought an early twilight, the wind keening with rustles of snow. Alone, Sass gave in to an overpowering whim. She set down her box a moment and cracked her helmet seal open for a blast of snow-filled air, immediately sealing it again.
She held her breath another moment to let her oxygen mix reassert. Then she took a deep breath to smell the snowstorm. Hm. She’d imagined the fresh scent of clean rain, only purer somehow. And that smell did predominate. But it added a definite tang of…raw egg, she decided. Maybe too much iodine today, messing up my nose.
Crossing Sylvan One to the cosmo barracks platform was a good workout, wading through drifts up to her thighs. Between the buildings the snow lay fairly flat. The steep ramp was missing, so she hopped onto the platform near a sentry.
“Why no ramp?” she inquired.
“Smurfs.” He pointed across their outer yard, between the sonics and the force fields.
Except she couldn’t spot the bright net of turquoise light that formed the force field perimeter through the blowing sheets of snow. A clear gust revealed the issue. Drifts piled over the sonic and force field poles. We need taller defenses. Another shift in the wind revealed a couple deer struggling through the snow, and a smurf family off to the right.
She nodded slowly, then realized the sentry couldn’t see the gesture inside her helmet. “Any wildlife damage?”
“Not yet. Up to the hunters.”
Ah. Cosmo platform. “You sound like you have nose trouble.”
“Not as bad as most.”
She pressed one of her bottles on him anyway, to apply next time he went indoors, and he directed her to the healing center. This proved to be an ordinary barracks tent, but packed to standing room only. Explaining what they found the problem to be, and how to fix it, took some time. Eli sent her images to illustrate the ‘tiny plants in sinuses’ concept.
The woman, Keff, spent a few minutes figuring out how to coax her diagnostic equipment to show her the same thing, using an especially miserable hunter on a cot as her practice dummy.
Sass demonstrated how the nasal spray bottle worked, in air and then into his nostrils. “We’re using the same treatment successfully on Tikka Gena.”
“Then why didn’t you send Tikka Gena?”
The captain didn’t care for her tone. “My crewman is resting. But I thought you’d appreciate a treatment for all these people who are seriously uncomfortable. Including yourself.” She squirted, maybe too hard, into the hunter’s other nostril.
Another hunter pointedly grabbed five bottles and handed them around to his friends. Sass nodded to them and pushed through the crowd to offer her wares to the other castes. Keff glowered at her. But the captain no longer cared about her good opinion.
She’d handed out plenty to share through this tent. “Shall I deliver the rest of these to the cook tent? Or leave them here?”
“I am in charge of healing! Right here!”
“Fine.” Sass set her carton on the healer’s table and waded out, past Denali whose noses streamed a thready dark orange. Perhaps she should have handed out napkins with the bottles. But a couple enterprising cosmos were tearing up hospital sheets for the purpose. Sass snapped her helmet sealed and escaped through the igloo wiggle annex.
“Tarana, Sass. I probably just
screwed up.” She sighed hugely and started the tube cycling. She finished explaining to Tarana what she’d tried to do and why, and that she’d left their first-pass treatment option with Keff.
“Keff is prickly,” Tarana allowed.
Sass could tell she was fishing for the emotional context. “Maybe you could take it from here. We don’t know what happens if these things continue to grow. Everyone needs treatment.”
“Yes, I see. Thank you, captain. Tarana out.”
She said thank you, Sass told herself firmly. But somehow she still felt as though she’d been coolly dismissed. Just the hired help making a delivery. She strode to the edge of the platform and gazed toward the forest. Shifting streamers of blowing white still confused her vision. But the hunters seemed to be leading the smurf family out of the compound, while the deer managed to slip under the container platform.
She almost commed Nora. Sass fancied she’d made a connection there. But as Tarana had so lately reminded her, this wasn’t the captain’s problem, nor even her ville. She turned back to hop off the spaceport side of the platform and trudge home through the snow.
29
Clay meant to rap discreetly on Tikki’s cabin door. But just as he lifted his knuckles, he heard a muffled oath and a meaty thunk, followed by a crash. He grabbed the latch instead and opened the door. Tikki sprawled awkwardly on the lower bunk of two, holding the back of his head, facing Kaol, who loomed above him with fist still curled.
“Did you hit Tikki?” the first mate demanded.
Kaol swallowed, but kept furious eyes trained on his boyfriend.
Clay grabbed his shoulder and shoved him around. “I asked you a question, crewman!”
“Yes. Sar.”
Clay pulled him by the bicep out onto the catwalk, and shoved his back against the wall. Fortunately, the hunter didn’t resist this rough handling. “Wait here. Count to one hundred. Repeat. Until I’m ready to deal with you. Understood?”
“Aye, sar.” Oddly, Kaol deflated, the fight gone out of him.
Clay wanted to hear Tikki’s side first. He gently closed the door and leaned against the bulkhead across from the bunks. The crash was a bedside table carved of cheap Mahina spruce, now broken on the deck, spilling a rich-scented potpourri of dried blossoms, and a starred mirror, broken but not scattered in the fall. Aurora used to keep this sort of Denali altar, though Clay wasn’t sure if it supported religion, meditation, or cosmetics. The bathroom they shared with Eli offered another mirror. The first mate kept his eye on the broken bits and waited for the housekeeper to speak.
“I’m fine, Clay. I don’t require assistance. Neither does Kaol.”
“I have a problem with that,” Clay shared, keeping the eye contact minimal. These cabins didn’t offer much space for personal boundaries. “On this ship, we use words to handle disagreements. Or we take it to the mat in public and fight fair. Kaol is not a fair match for you.”
Tikki sighed loudly. “I was in the wrong. I deserved what I got, and expected what I got. I use words, you use words. A hunter like Kaol expresses himself physically. I respect that.”
Clay considered the alien point of view. And decided in this instance, he had to assert his own culture. “Let me put it another way. It is unacceptable to the captain and myself for a guy that physical to hit someone who can’t defend himself.”
“And I suggest that I can and do defend myself. And with respect and remorse, it’s none of your business.”
Clay pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to lay down the law here, Tikki. I will not tolerate this behavior on my ship. This isn’t the first time he’s hit you aboard Thrive, is it?” He met the geisha’s eyes on that one. “When we thought the visiting hunters had hurt you, it was Kaol, wasn’t it?”
Tikki averted his gaze and sat mute.
“My next decision is whether to kick him off the crew.”
“Don’t do that!” Tikki’s eyes met his now, wide with panic. “Please, Clay! I brought him here. If one of us needs to leave the ship…” He couldn’t bring himself to offer to leave.
Clay sighed. His police experience lay in white collar and major crimes. Domestic was more up Sass’s alley. But crew discipline was the first mate’s responsibility. “Alright. I’ll move him to crew berthing. And for one week, you two meet only in the ship’s public spaces. And it is not alright, on this ship, for him to hit you.”
“Kaol can keep the cabin. I’ll move –”
“No! Tikki, the private cabin is yours as housekeeper. You outrank Kaol.”
Tikki frowned in cultural bafflement. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. You’re a petty officer. It’s your job to boss regular crew on cleaning duties. The private cabin denotes your rank. Ordinarily, I’d punish Kaol by assigning him to scrub bathrooms for a week. No, I’ll do that anyway, but have him report to me instead of you.”
“You Mahinans are very strange. To us, solitary confinement is a punishment.”
“You’re not confined!”
“But I’m not permitted to sleep with my partner, either!”
The two regarded each other in mutual dismay. Clay decided it was his dignity on the line here. He stood straight. “The ship culture wins this round, Mr. Tikki. No more physical fights with Kaol. Please leave the cabin so he can pack his stuff and clean up.”
Exasperated, Tikki eyed the spilled flower petals. But he gave in. “Aye, sar.”
Clay held the door open for the housekeeper to precede him onto the catwalk, where he turned left for the galley obediently enough, though he shot an anguished glance of apology over his shoulder to Kaol.
The security crewman was easier. Other than ‘no, sar’ and ‘aye, sar,’ he didn’t volunteer a word. Which Clay sadly realized was Tikki’s point – in a conflict, the guy didn’t speak, he acted.
And Clay still had no idea what they were fighting about. Because it was none of his business. No doubt Sass would remind him of that point when he reported the incident. But he couldn’t help thinking that if she interviewed them instead of him, they’d know exactly what was going on.
Though with Denali, they might still not understand.
At supper, Sass raised an eyebrow when Kaol tried to abscond with a supper tray. “Mr. Kaol, sit with us! Eat. Or am I missing something?”
The last was directed at Clay. Dinner was a family affair on Thrive, and she’d held them up with her trip to deliver drugs.
Clay smiled and blinked both eyes at her, then spoke down-table. “Zelda, please take Kaol’s seat beside Tikki Cook.” She could sit in Tikka Gena’s usual chair on his other side as well, also vacant. It was her side of the table that was full.
“Why would I –” Zelda began, and apparently got nudged by Eli. “I’d love to.” She quickly collected her used cutlery and plate and smiled at Kaol, who appeared stoically mortified. He swallowed and regarded the back of Zan’s bald head, then unhappily sank to sit between him and Eli.
Unable to catch any of the Denali by eye, Sass applied herself to her river fish for a moment. Unlike the deer meat, this reached the table still shaped like fish, though its flavor and stringy texture reminded her of a mild and oily rhubarb. “And this is completely safe to eat?” she asked brightly.
Tikki glanced up, which was the first she’d noticed the bruise on his far eye. “I ate this recipe yesterday. No, um, gastric distress. The lab tests were good. But if you don’t like it, I still have leftover deer loaf.”
“Mm, I think we offer printed soy as an alternative to Sylvan food,” Sass opined. “But don’t get up, Tikki. Everyone can dial up a soy burger for themselves.”
Darren and Nico immediately began to rise, and sank to yield first dibs to the other. Clay solved the impasse by getting up himself. “Three? Show of hands? Four burgers, coming up.”
“Clay –” Tikki Cook began strangled, but gave it up. “I apologize to everyone for the food. I thought it tasted better than anything else I’ve tried.”
“I l
ike it,” Sass assured him. “Excellent work! So did anyone have any other exciting news today? I’ve been distracted by the snow, and the nose challenge. Oh! Zan, I spoke with Ben Acosta today. They’re at Sanctuary now, loading two transports for Mahina.”
She glanced at Floki, who parked at the table by Nico’s elbow to socialize, though he ate nothing. He tilted his head and kept his eyes cast down rather than volunteer anything about his date to meet his grandsire Loki.
She sighed. Clearly a tough crowd tonight for conversation. “We need to be extra vigilant this next week –” and she didn’t wish to mention sabotage, “– because Ben would need a week to come fetch us if anything went wrong.”
Zan raised his head, quite interested. She peered at him hopefully, to encourage him to speak. And he reapplied himself to his snapper and salad.
None of the Denali requested a soy burger. Maybe good Denali children were required to eat whatever was on their plate, the way Sass was raised. Or perhaps they loathed Mahina’s ubiquitous printed soy, and relished the chance to eat real snapper.
Zelda timidly half-raised her hand, then withdrew it. Sass motioned her to go ahead. “I have good news! I’ve found my missing carbon dioxide!”
Sass smiled extra-warmly to cover the fact she hadn’t once recalled her carbon dioxide was missing. “Oh, congratulations, Zelda! Tell us more!”
“Volcanic action!” she said triumphantly. Sass was gratified that everyone else looked as blank as she did. “The planet is belching out carbon dioxide. Quite a lot of it. Today’s CO2 levels are through the roof, nearly 300 parts per million. That’s about what Earth was before they, you know. The trees should grow much better now.”
Sass coughed. “Were they growing poorly?” The tree sprouts grew in Sylvan One with reckless abandon. Though perhaps somewhat subdued by the blizzard. Nostril parasites seemed to thrive as well. Though perhaps that’s why they enjoyed human sinuses, a generous CO2 supply.
“I don’t know,” Zelda confessed, looking to Eli.