by Z Gottlieb
Brad was going to have to come up with something to identify each one if he was going to remember their names. Shinny had referred to Wesgwidy with a feminine pronoun, but looking at the group, he couldn’t tell who was female or male. They all looked more or less the same in their dilapidated technician uniforms. All seemed to be gaunt and somewhat scraggly. He noted to himself to be careful, since he didn’t know what would anger a Neslin. Anyway, he thought, the big one was Wesgwidy. Yancurve, who was almost as large as Wesgwidy, had a left ear that was clipped; Gleprony’s coloring was almost brownish orange and sported a mole on a cheek; and finally Ravelstan looked like a friar with a light golden orange colored fur. He wasn’t sure if the baldness was a style, an illness or genetic, but he wasn’t going to be stupid and ask. He looked at each Neslin one more time and when he felt he could identify these individuals in a lineup, he cautiously stuck his hand out toward Wesgwidy to shake her very large hand. “Wesgwidy, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Wesgwidy tilted her head at the outstretched arm in front of her, “Do you have a medical issue with your arm? Our medical capabilities are limited.”
Brad pulled his arm back. “My arm is fine. Offering one’s empty weapon hand is a way we greet each other on my planet. I apologize if I offended you.”
“Interesting, perhaps when there is more time we can discuss cultural exchanges,” Wesgwidy rumbled. She turned to her team. “Take everything we discussed.” She turned back to the major. “There is a security detail outside this room. After my team has gathered everything, Gleprony and Ravelstan will leave first with me following, then your pilot and you; Yancurve will take the rear position. Do you have any questions?”
Shinny nodded. “We’re ready.” She picked up four large bags and handed them to Brad. Grabbing another four, she slung them over her left shoulder, keeping her right hand free. She watched the Neslins pick up the remaining bundles and begin leaving the room. Shinny followed Wesgwidy through the door with Brad behind her at her back. As soon as she stepped out of the room she saw an Aneplé security detail standing against the wall opposite of the stateroom’s doorway. After Brad stepped out of the room, Commander Plity Nerunder, nicknamed “Junkyard Dog,” approached Shinny.
The Neslins standing nearby with their arms loaded with various items from the room appeared to make Nerunder visibly nervous as if she would have preferred to patrol the Transportation Room’s platforms rather than confront the Neslins. Stepping closer to Shinny, she said, “You have not caused any problems. The Command Authority has determined that you are not CIG and you are non-threatening It is time for you and the other Johnson to report to your units and be integrated into the crew. We are always in need of new pilots to defend the community.”
Time definitely did not mellow the junkyard dog’s appearance. If anything she looked more angular, Brad thought. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say but he was feeling well enough to take her on, even with the heavy layer of green particles floating around them. He stepped forward to confront the Aneplé officer in defiance.
Wesgwidy quickly stepped in front of the Aneplé Security Officer, glaring at her. “Commander, these two individuals are our prisoners. They are coming with us.”
The security officer appeared stunned by the Neslin’s action and statement. She backed away out of reach in response to the angry look on Wesgwidy’s face. “Did you say prisoners? You can’t have prisoners. The agreement signed between the ship’s Command Authority and Neslins includes a mutual agreement for Neslins to not interfere with the ship’s operation and security.”
“Why not? You have prisoners. We are not interfering with your security or operations. The signed agreement states that the Neslins have the same rights and privileges as the Aneplé, except those rights and privileges specifically listed as exemptions. Specifically, we have agreed to not harm or detain members of the Aneplé community. We are taking these CIG Fleet members as our prisoners, since the agreement does not bar the Neslin colony from having CIG prisoners.”
Nerunder backed up more. “You have abused the terms of the agreement. The Command Authorities will not support your interpretation.”
“The Command Authority can renegotiate the agreement or return us to Neslin,” Wesgwidy growled loudly in fury.
The security officer jumped back and snapped, “Your transport vehicles have been recycled; we have no way of returning you.”
“That may be true, but both my colony and I are angered when you continue to repeat the same false explanations. Couldn’t you come up with something new, like the truth? The Aneplé do not want us to return, otherwise a vehicle could be printed for us to return home. There is no reason for us to stay. We will not become Aneplé and this ship makes us sick,” Wesgwidy roared.
Nerunder slinked further back. “You have been informed we are at war and do not have excess materials to print a vehicle for your colony. This incident will be reported to the Command Authorities.” She turned toward her team. “Follow me,” she ordered, as she walked quickly out of the Neslins’ reach with her team following her.
Brad almost laughed, watching Junkyard dog’s cowering reaction, except he’d been there. He found the exchange between Wesgwidy and the Aneplé Commander interesting. The more the commander cowered, the more dismissive Wesgwidy became. He couldn’t blame the Neslin either for taking advantage of her position of physical strength; he would have done the same. It was equally interesting that Wesgwidy referred to an agreement and wondered if she was a lawyer. “Are you a legal administrator?” What in the world was he thinking, asking the Neslin that question? The look on Shinny’s face asked him the same thing.
Wesgwidy made eye contact with him. “Please don’t ever let my mother hear you ask that of me.”
Brad heard what sounded like laughing from the other Neslins. He hadn’t meant to make a joke, but obviously they had the same low regard for lawyers as most people on Earth did. At least the ice was broken. He raised his arms as if surrendering. “I won’t tell your mother if you don’t tell mine.”
Wesgwidy laughed with the others on her team. “We may have a few things in common we can discuss when there is nothing pointing at our backs.
“Gleprony, lead us back to the colony.” Wesgwidy immediately followed Gleprony’s rapid pace down the hallways toward their spaces.
Brad jogged behind Wesgwidy, feeling more comfortable having the Neslins both in front of them and at their backs. “Wesgwidy, do you think they will return with a larger force?”
Wesgwidy turned and saw the pilot and major running to keep up with her. She slowed down slightly and walked next to them as she talked. “It’s unlikely she will return today, but they will definitely make it harder for you to leave our spaces when you begin your search for a vehicle to leave the Kisskalu.”
Brad nodded in agreement. “I’m not even sure I’ll find something that two Neslins will fit into.”
“We’re aware of the issue. If you can only take one of us, we will be satisfied.” Wesgwidy replied.
“Who? You?” Brad asked.
“Ferklopgresfk Nan Dowelstergak,” Wesgwidy answered.
“What a-huh?” Brad was about to ask her to repeat, but stopped when they came to a glassed in area with several Neslins either propped against the walls or stanchions or lying down. All of the Neslins he had seen in the past were various shades of orange ranging from a light shade of golden orange to a bright pumpkin orange. Inside he saw a smaller, dark burgundy Neslin about his size, with the sleeves and pants of its uniform rolled up, leaning against the wall. This must be what a juvenile looks like, he thought. He also noticed the haggard appearance of the other Neslins in comparison to Wesgwidy’s team ,“Are they alright?” Brad asked.
Wesgwidy stopped next to Brad. “It’s our most protected isolation unit. The dust makes us sick, also. But it varies widely with each individual. People rotate in and out of the unit to reduce their exposure to this foul air, depending upon their level of t
olerance. For those who have been on the ship longest, it is harder each time to recover because of the combination of the exposure and limited supply of untainted food.”
Brad stepped closer to the glass and stared in. A number of the Neslin looked too thin with bones jutting and somewhat mangy, missing more hair than Ravelstan. He realized then Ravelstan had either just recovered or might be fighting going into the isolation unit. Brad turned and looked up toward Wesgwidy. “Thank you for explaining. I think I have a better understanding. We have some food and can share it.”
“We appreciate your generosity. We will hold off as long as possible. Some of us would prefer to skip a meal rather than subject ourselves to the CIG’s packaged meals.”
Brad laughed at her comment. “I sympathize with you. I can’t imagine being raised on that glop nor do I understand why it’s so popular.”
Wesgwidy narrowed her eyes as she looked at Brad. “You’re the first CIG pilot I’ve met to not salivate over just talking about those packages.”
“Brad, don’t,” Shinny warned through the chip.
Brad leaned toward Shinny. “Don’t worry, no state secrets,” he explained in English. He turned toward Wesgwidy. “I was raised on a planet on the edge and am fairly new to the CIG’s Fleet.”
“That clarifies a few things. I didn’t recognize the language,” Wesgwidy remarked. She waited for him to say more, but that was all she was going to hear for now. “Leave your bags here. Ravelstan will escort you into the isolation unit.”
Brad gave Shinny a hug as she sent him a message she would join him as soon as she finished helping the Neslins where she could. “I know. Love you, see you soon,” Brad whispered to her.
Chapter 25
Brad finished going through decontamination and stepped into the convalescence room with Ravelstan. He stood out as the only human in the room. Not only that, it was apparent he wasn’t welcomed to join them. Most of the inhabitants acknowledged Ravelstan then turned away to avoid looking at him. He couldn’t blame them. They were basically in a prison hospital with little hope of ever leaving the prison. They probably viewed him as more Aneplé than CIG. Leaning toward Ravelstan, he whispered, “Where should I sit or lie down?”
Ravelstan pointed to a box placed against the wall. “Your rations and personal items are in that box.” As he nodded that he understood, she walked toward an empty spot on a wall near the small burgundy Neslin. “Mother instructed me to introduce you to Ferklopgresfk Nan Dowelstergak. Ferklopgresfk Nan Dowelstergak will be your primary passenger.”
“Wesgwidy is your mother?” Brad asked, surprised by Ravelstan’s statement.
“For now she is. Come, follow me so you can meet Ferklopgresfk Nan Dowelstergak,” Ravelstan said as she walked toward the burgundy Neslin.
What the heck did she mean Wesgwidy was her mother for now? He would have to wait and ask Shinny later because Ravelstan appeared to be ready to dump him on the kid or dump the kid on him. He wasn’t sure which was correct and it didn’t matter, he just needed to get the kid back to CIG space. He wondered who the crazy parent was to drag their child into an area the Aneplé threatened. He started trying to pronounce the name as smoothly as Wesgwidy and Ravelstan. “Ferklopy Nan Dogsgak, no Fergie Nan Dostergweky, no Ferko Nan Dogak, damn it, Fernando.”
The burgundy Neslin looked up. “Ravelstan, are you leaving this butcher with me?”
“What are you talking about? The Aneplé butchers are out there,” Brad snapped while pointing out of the glassed area.
“I’m referring to you, CIG butcher, who can’t seem to pronounce my name correctly.”
Son-of-a-bitch, they stuck me with a spoiled brat, Brad thought. “Fernando is the best I’m going to do. If you don’t like it, tell Wesgwidy to find another pilot.”
“Fernando, and don’t butcher that. Frankly, I would be surprised if you could find a way off this ship. We’ve been looking for six months.”
“Stay out of my way and let me do my job.” Brad looked for Ravelstan to help him find another place to camp out. It was weird that everyone had backed off from them, cowering. What was with them? Scanning the room, he couldn’t see Ravelstan or another good spot to claim other than next to Fernando. Resigned that he was going to have to put up with the brat, he grabbed his plaid blanket from the box and wrapped it around himself. Brad sat a few feet away from the kid and leaned against the wall. Closing his eyes, he drifted off to sleep.
Ferklopgresfk Nan Dowelstergak stared at the obnoxious human. Frustrated with his situation, he ground his teeth. Between Fernando and technician, both labels were bad. It was bad enough having to wear the oversized uniform with the sleeves and pants rolled up but he was concerned the title technician from the CIG pilot would continue to chip away at the colony’s morale. For the time being, he would tolerate the human.
Fernando had sat next to the Fleet pilot for almost a full shift. He questioned Wesgwidy’s decision and wondered what she had committed them to doing. Wesgwidy seemed to think the pilot might be able to get him off of the Kisskalu. So far he was not impressed with the pilot and thought the man might be one of Nerunder’s spies. There would be no leaving if he was a spy. Fernando would watch for signs indicating the pilot was a threat and discuss the situation with Wesgwidy. It annoyed him that Wesgwidy decided to work with the two CIG personnel without discussing it with him. Looking into the swirling green dust beyond the glass enclosure, his curiosity was piqued. “Pilot, who is Mother talking to? She looks familiar.”
Brad wanted to ignore the kid, but he was curious who was its mother. He tipped his head and didn’t see anybody talking to anyone in the room. Outside the room was a different story. Maybe if he ignored the kid, it would go away. Brad pulled his blanket around his shoulders and went back to reading the information on his tablet.
“Pilot, I asked you a question. Who is she? She looks familiar.”
Brad looking up again and did not see anything different. “I don’t know what you are referring to. Let me get back to work,” he demanded as he swiped through a few pages.
Fernando reached over and grabbed the pilot’s shoulder, growled angrily, “Your tone and arrogance is intolerable. I won’t ask politely the next time. Who is the Fleet Officer Mother is talking to?” He pointed outside the enclosure. “She looks familiar.”
Brad was annoyed with the kid and would talk to its mother. The kid was in no position to refer to an adult’s arrogance. Even though it was smaller than the other Neslins, he was definitely not interested in getting into a fight with a hotheaded kid, male or female, who was about the same size as him. “Wesgwidy is your mother?” Perhaps he could talk to Ravelstan about controlling her sibling’s rudeness.
“Yes, Wesgwidy is Mother. What about the female next to her?”
Shinny hadn’t mentioned personally knowing anyone in the colony and he wasn’t going to volunteer anything. “That’s Shinny Johnson, my mate.”
Fernando sat quietly thinking about that. “Shinny Johnson is not a name I’m familiar with, but she reminds me of someone.”
“She’s my mate. She hasn’t mentioned that she knows any Neslins on this ship.”
“Your mate looks like a Special Combat Officer,” Fernando noted, staring at Shinny.
Brad’s heart rate increased. “What do you mean? She was my second seat when we flew onto the Kisskalu.”
“Second seat doesn’t mean anything. Her stance is giving it away. In addition, there aren’t many people who could hold their own against Mother like your mate is doing right now. It’s a good thing they are on friendly terms. Mother may have met her match,” Fernando said jokingly. He watched the pilot stare at the CIG Officer on the other side of the glass enclosure. “I can smell you sweating. Apparently, you are not a spy; probably an average CIG idiot who flew onto the Kisskalu as a dare. Nevertheless, I won’t say anything to the Aneplé. Neslins owe a debt to CIG.”
Brad was concerned that the little Neslin’s keen observation picked out Sh
inny’s profession, putting her one step closer to being imprisoned by the Aneplé. He was relieved the Neslin said it wouldn’t rat on Shinny, but he still didn’t know who or what to trust. “Thanks,” Brad responded, hoping there would not be any further discussion on Shinny’s stance.
“How long has she been your mate?” Fernando asked.
“About four solar years,” Brad answered, thinking it was an odd question from a kid.
“When I get out of here, I’ll find a mate.”
“Huh, seems like you might want to wait until you’re older,” Brad advised, comparing Fernando’s smaller stature to the other Neslins. He wondered when the kid would hit its full growth.
“I’ve held Mother and Father off long enough. They are anxious for me to start a family. After this, I won’t hear the end of it until I have a mate.” Fernando shifted its position, bending its knees and holding them, staring into the room as it watched the other Neslins.
Brad was unsure how he should respond to Fernando. He had no sympathy for the kid, even if it had nagging parents. Even his own parents had dropped annoying hints to him when it came to Shinny. But maybe there was some sort of odd Neslin mating tradition going on that its mother was pushing to get Fernando off the ship. The more he thought about it, the stranger the situation appeared. “Do your parents have someone in mind for you?”
“Of course not, we are civilized; arranged marriages have been outlawed for centuries,” Fernando explained. “I’ve been thinking about it, but there is pressure in choosing the right person.”
“There always is, but it isn’t something you rush either,” Brad responded while he viewed the information on one of the colony platforms, wondering if there was a way they could disguise themselves and steal one of the transport vehicles, since security seemed more lax. Then again the reports on the colonists left a lot of questions about their sanity and the conditions of the vehicles.