Diverse Similarity

by Sharon Rose

  “Acknowledged.”

  The two navigators each continued giving instructions as though the other was not speaking. However, Kena listened to the main channel, as well as her private one. The instant the words “cleared to launch” came over the channel, she grasped the control sticks beside her legs and piloted the ship out of the bay. She aligned behind amethyst quad and sailed between them.

  “Sapphire, assume departure position,” she ordered and then muted all comm channels.

  Krdn spoke immediately. “I’ve completed instructions to the remaining crew. Ghent will be in ex op at any moment.”

  “Good. Then, there is only one thing to do before we leave. I fly with you only if it is clear who is in command of this ship and crew. My strong preference is that I command.”

  “Then, you have command.” He pointed at a flashing comm light, which indicated that someone in the aft module wanted to talk to them. “Do they always demand your attention this insistently?”

  “No. Get emerald into position,” she said, opening the door. “What is it?” she asked over her shoulder.

  The voice had an odd squeak. Leelee, maybe. “Is Krdn flying with us on this trip?”

  This lame attempt to object to his presence struck Kena as funny. The word duh came to mind. She made sure her crew heard only a pleasant tone. “Yes, he is. Hrndl isn’t able to continue, so I asked Krdn to take her place. Sorry I couldn’t explain earlier. We’re a little busy.”

  Presh blurted out, “But he tried to kill you!”

  All desire to laugh left Kena. Not bothering to suppress her irritation, she swung around and said, “Oh, I strongly doubt that!”

  “Then who did?”

  “No one. It was an accident. If I trust Krdn, there is no reason whatsoever for you to doubt him.” She closed the door with a vicious jab at the control.

  Ghent’s voice broke in. “Krdn, I want Kena on the main channel.”

  “I am here,” she said.

  “Whose idea was it for Krdn to take Hrndl’s place?”

  “It was mine,” she said firmly.

  “Have you discussed command?” Ghent asked.

  Krdn answered. “We have. Kena wanted it, and I agreed. Do you concur?”

  “Yes. Krdn, are you aware that Kena has recorded her memory?”

  Kena rolled her eyes, and Krdn’s face tightened.

  “Yes, but it is irrelevant,” he said. “I have never tried to kill her. It would be beyond insanity to attempt it now.”

  Kena asked, “If everyone is finished irritating my support navigator, can we get underway?”

  Ghent answered her in a soothing tone. “Yes, Kena. But before you go, I’m confirming the command structure to your navigators. Then, leave as soon as you can.”

  Within moments, Krdn said, “All quads are in position.”

  Kena opened the channel and, once again, ordered her craft to accelerate. While they were pressed into their couches, she filled Krdn in on everything they had learned during the previous two trips and her plans for this one. “Any questions?”

  Krdn made a few inquiries regarding their mission. though a much different question puzzled him. How could she possibly have said she trusted him? Her answers were calm and natural—as though she were speaking to any other navigator. He searched for contempt in her voice but found none.

  A pause followed her last answer. “Any other questions?”

  “Not about the mission.” He took another breath and made certain his tone was respectfully formal. “Will you permit me to ask you a personal question?”

  “I permit.”

  “Everyone else believes—or at least suspects—that I tried to kill you. Why don’t you?”

  “Well, for one thing,” Kena said, “if you had tried, I think you would have succeeded. If that fire was an attempt at murder, it was a very sloppy, haphazard one.”

  He nodded. “What else?”

  “If I am murdered, you would be, by far, the most likely suspect. That would also make it appear as if you intended to kill Frethan and were simply waiting for a good opportunity. Why would you want two murder charges in place of one accusation of accidental death? Not the sort of strategy I would expect from you.”

  “All of this should be self-evident,” he said. “Yet, few seem to perceive it. Hrndl does not. I expected you to be influenced by her reasoning.”

  A wry smirk touched Kena’s lips. “Much as I like and respect her, this is not the time to rely on her reasoning—not in regard to you. Besides, Grfdn views of coordination are so different from mine. Sometimes you are coordinating and sometimes you are not. If you are, then no one may interfere.” Kena shrugged. “But I am always coordinating with all navigators on duty. The command officer always has the right to interfere if deemed necessary. The fact that you choose to take action is not itself an offence. In my view, the only thing you’re guilty of was your refusal to learn of my skills. If you had known what I’m capable of, you wouldn’t have interfered.”

  Krdn stared at her, his brow puckered. “You are so different from other Humans.”

  “All Humans are different. All Grfdn are, too. I see very little similarity between Rnl and Dhgnr, for instance. It never works to rely on racial generalizations when dealing with individuals.”

  He shook his head. “I am still mystified. You have just pointed out a failure of my judgment. My actions injured you. How can you now say that you trust me?”

  “You must have noticed my capabilities by now,” Kena said. “In any event, I’m in command, so it doesn’t matter a great deal if you haven’t. Am I deluding myself? Will you counteract my maneuvers if you dislike my technique?”

  “Certainly not!”

  “I didn’t think you would, Krdn. Ghent once told me how utterly committed to coordination the Grfdn are. We are sitting in the same cockpit on the same mission. In my view, we are coordinating. Do you see it that way?”

  He had yielded command to her; now she asked for coordination, as well? After he had questioned her trust, she offered him more trust? Did she understand? She couldn’t. How to answer her? He took a deep breath. “Grfdn are deliberate about coordination. It is stated, for the commitment is on both sides.”

  “I am already committed.”

  She gave her commitment before receiving his. Unbelievable. Especially after all that had happened. There was really no way he could refuse. Even simple agreement was inadequate. “I am honored to coordinate with you.”

  Kena only nodded, a slight furrow between her brows. Was that because of what he’d said, or because of the new scan data they were receiving? More debris misaligned with projections.

  Several minutes later, she adjusted her couch to half-recline. She pulled her audio unit off and slapped it into its holder. “Set up to take over piloting, Krdn.” Touching the comm channel button, she said, “Beta crew, you’re looking good. I’m going to sleep now, so you’ll be getting instructions from Krdn. If anyone hasn’t slept yet, do so now. Consider that an order.” She put up a hand to hide a cavernous yawn.

  “Is this your first sleep?” he asked, as she pushed her control sticks into the console and moved it away from her lap.

  “Yes.” Kena released her shoulder straps, adjusted her couch, and pulled the sleep restraint around herself. “Wake me up about ten minutes before we arrive at the collection point.”

  “Is that going to be enough sleep?”

  “It will do. I’ll sleep again on the way back.” She fit her personal earphones in place and selected a music track on her computer.

  “Will those block all sound?” Krdn asked.

  “No, but enough so I can sleep. Music will mask your voice.”

  “How do I wake you?”

  “Call my name,” she said. “If that doesn’t work, move me back and forth.”

  Krdn held silence, and Kena met his steady gaze. She raised an eyebrow and asked, “What is it?”

  He shook his head and looked forward again. “Sleep
, Kena.”

  Soon, her breathing grew slow and rhythmic. Her hands floated before her chest.

  Krdn looked over at her, noting every detail of her relaxed body, from her peaceful face to her long, curved fingers with their fine bone structure. So different from the times he’d seen them dart across a console. At rest, they looked like a graceful sculpture. He found her face in repose even more surprising. Gone were the quick expressions and exuberance. It struck him, now, that Kena always seemed to be in motion, even when she stilled in absolute concentration. There was an energy about her that never subsided. Seeing her asleep—so vulnerable—caused unexpected emotions to stir within him. If only he could diffuse his tension as easily as she released hers.

  The three-hour journey was interminable. He forced himself to focus on analysis. The changes occurring around the corridor to their destination were too critical to ignore. Yet, again and again he found his eyes straying back to the still, unguarded figure beside him.

  He’d allowed no one to see the damage his confidence had suffered—would barely acknowledge it even to himself. Now, she had placed complete trust in him. That unnerved him more than the contempt Dhgnr and Hrndl heaped upon him. Did she really trust him? Even in part? If so, she honored him. He grasped at the balm of her honor, but shame squirmed, weakening his grip. He did not deserve her trust. And yet, it was imperative he fulfill that trust. In this, flickered a spark of hope. His career might yet be saved if he succeeded. Perhaps not on the high-status, interracial ships, but among his own race.

  He made himself wait until the exact moment Kena had specified and then said her name. No response. He said it again, louder. A fleeting expression passed over her features, but still she did not wake. He reluctantly reached for her shoulder and set her to rocking against the sleep restraint. “Kena, we’ll be at the collection area in ten minutes.”

  Her arms rose above her head, the fingers intertwining. Her entire body stiffened in a long stretch. In silence, she stowed the restraint and brought her couch back to a sitting position. Krdn pulled the relevant scans up on display for her to review. She groped for a sealed container in her seat pocket then flipped open the tube with her teeth. Wrapping her lips around it, she sucked the contents while she studied the images before her.

  The shifting muscles of her face grabbed his attention. She drank like a Grfdn. Beyond doubt! How foolish of him not to expect as much. It would be the instinct of every Human infant. Once again, emotion surged through him. He quickly suppressed it, irritated that something so trivial could remind him of how much he’d overlooked.

  Kena finished her drink before she finally spoke. “Well, debris has shifted quite a ways from projection, but I suppose it could be worse. Do you think we need to leave early?”

  “Only if the deterioration rate increases. The alpha crew will pull out in an hour. Since they have extra time, they’re going to deploy probes along the way to send us short range scans and improve communications with the Ontrevay. That will provide us current information for our departure decision.”

  “Sounds good. How’s the crew back there?” she asked with a jerk of her head toward the aft module.”

  “I haven’t checked. I didn’t want to disturb you. Nothing they’ve sent me indicates any problems. Have they had difficulties before?”

  “Presh and Leelee have zero-G sickness, but they don’t admit it.” Kena released her lap belt, opened the door, and floated into the aft module. “Anyone having trouble?” she asked, scrutinizing each face.

  They all shook their heads or murmured “no.” A rather subdued response.

  “We may need to cut this trip short,” Kena said. “Prioritize your needs so we get the most important samples first. Thrayl, see that the rest of the scientists understand this as well. Once I decide to leave, nothing that any of you say will delay our departure.”

  Kena returned to her couch and strapped in.

  Krdn asked, “What’s their status?”

  She pulled the console into her lap and said, “They look like gravity lovers who’ve been on weightless duty for twenty-one hours. They didn’t even complain when I said we might need to leave early. Get the long-range display off the hull so I can see what I’m doing.” After opening a channel, she said, “Amber and ruby, drop out here and head to your zones. Emerald units nine and ten, rejoin eleven and twelve to continue mining.”

  The ruby and amber quads separated and returned to their assigned areas. A moment later, the pair from emerald veered off toward a large, familiar chunk.

  She selected a single comm channel to Emerald 12. “Hi, Jorlit. How’s the mining business?”

  “A little tedious,” Jorlit said. “Navigating loses its charm when you’re anchored in a hole in a rock.”

  “I can’t argue that. Switch out with nine and ten. What’s your sampling status?”

  He reported, ending with, “We’ll be finished in an hour.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll join you then.”

  The command ship continued on, with the amethyst and sapphire quads following. Kena reviewed the sample requests she had for this untouched area. Dividing the craft into four pairs, she sent each pair a set of coordinates.

  “Amethyst, load to your full capacity. Sapphire, your area has a lot of small material. Don’t waste time with mining or breaking objects up, and don’t load above 80 percent. I’ll be gathering samples in the central area, which you will need to take out.”

  She turned to Krdn. “You watch for danger to emerald, amber, and ruby. They’re in familiar territory, so they don’t need much direction.” Having said this, she ignored Krdn and his assigned craft. They were both using audio units now, so their one-sided conversations dropped to background noise in the nav module. Much like solo flight, even though they sat within arm’s reach.

  Kena selected the biggest void she could find and deployed a remote-controlled anchor. She synchronized its course to the prevailing orbit of the debris cloud then activated its containment field. She began capturing samples, anchoring them within the remote energy field.

  All went smoothly for nearly an hour. Then, a rock exploded near amethyst units three and four. They took evasive action. Unit three was in the direct path of a dozen large fragments. It turned too slowly, hampered by the samples it dragged.

  Kena ordered, “Unit three, drop your load.”

  Quick compliance saved the ship, but their samples scattered.

  The pilot’s chagrined voice came over her audio unit. “Great! There goes an hour’s worth of work. Sorry, Kena.”

  “We could’ve done without that, but your crew is safe. Setbacks were expected. Just go back to collecting and don’t waste a thought on the past.”

  Kena continued to listen in on the comm channel amethyst three and four used. In a little while, their voices grew calm and their work pattern routine. She turned her attention back to sapphire quad.

  Addressing their lead navigator, she said, “It’s time to come and pick up my samples. Get all of your craft fully loaded then lead them back to the Ontrevay.”

  “We could help sweep in more samples for amethyst before we go.”

  “The fewer craft I have to take into a collapsing corridor, the better. Head back as soon as you’re loaded.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “Amethyst, I’m going to join emerald. Continue here.”

  “Kena, we still have way more to collect here than we can manage without your help,” the quad leader said.

  “I know. I’ll send you help in a few minutes.” Kena muted the channel to talk to Krdn. “Leave emerald to me now. Analyze the exit route and sapphire’s course.”

  “I’ve just reviewed the corridor. It’s relatively stable.” After a moment, he said, “Sapphire’s course plan is acceptable.”

  “How far have amber and ruby gotten?”

  “They have about half of what they need,” Krdn said. “I’ll send six of the craft out in an hour, and the other two can join the remaini
ng quads.”

  “Good.” Kena pulled into alignment with emerald. Three of the craft were collecting matter, and the fourth was just emerging from a hole that had been cut deep into a 50-kilometer chunk of the moon. “Jorlit, who has the lightest load?”

  “That would be our last miner, Kena, unit nine. They’ve just finished blasting.”

  “Unit nine, I want you to join up with amethyst and gather for them. Load them first then pick up anything they can’t haul. I’m sending you a course plan.”

  Kena watched the maneuver she had ordered, monitored ongoing activities, and planned a collection course.

  After a couple minutes, Krdn asked, “Is this how you coordinate with Hrndl?”

  Kena blinked and threw a quick glance his way. “No, of course not.”

  “How do you divide the tasks?”

  “We each monitor two quads and jointly assist the fifth. One of us pilots and collects forward, while the other monitors and collects aft. We jointly plan the courses and collection strategy.”

  “A much more efficient division of work than what we are doing now,” Krdn said. “I suggest we use that approach.”

  “Not a chance. I’ve trained and worked with Hrndl, but not with you.”

  “Kena, I have very little to do. You have more than necessary and are also tired. Please give me another task.”

  “Fine. Monitor amethyst.”

  “Acknowledged,” he said. “If you’re doing all the piloting and collecting here, I can easily monitor for you, as well.”

  “You can watch and report all you like, but don’t correct. Wondering what you might do will wear me out much faster than anything else.”

  Krdn paused before answering. “Understood.” He hoped Kena didn’t realize how hard it was to control his voice. Her explanation for not allowing him full participation was reasonable—they hadn’t trained together. Still, the rejection burned.

  The next hour was worse than the interminable trip out. Krdn watched Kena incessantly, determined not to miss any need she might have. Her maneuvers were often difficult, but she never faltered. She seemed to know intuitively which courses would sweep in the greatest amount of matter in the least amount of time. Did she even consider difficulty factors?