by Tygati
Those riders not on watch duty gathered at the field along with the people from the Galactic Federation, supposedly to keep guard against caraca, but Jeremey suspected they really just wanted an up-close look at the ship. It had been a long time since anyone on Noman had seen more than the most basic of tech.
Moving everything had taken enough time that they didn't have all that long to wait. They'd barely been there an hour before a handful of dragons started peering up at the sky and the humans promptly followed suit. At first it was just a speck, then a bigger speck, before finally the distant whine of engines became discernable.
It kept getting larger and larger, the engine sound louder, until Jeremey realized with a start that this was a much bigger ship than the two that had crashed. No wonder they'd needed such a large field for it to land in. The thing appeared to be the size of a small settlement! Was this what the Oliver Loving had looked like?
With a little bit of maneuvering, the ship set down and the whine of the engines faded. Colonel Brocius moved toward a particular section of the ship that opened up, a wide ramp extending out from it to meet him. Two people emerged from the ship and descended the ramp, meeting Colonel Brocius at the bottom.
"Colonel," one of the two said, both of them making the same mysterious gesture over their chests as Major Mulhall always seemed to be making. Some sort of sign of respect, Jeremey guessed.
"At ease," Colonel Brocius replied, mirroring their gesture. "Captain Littlefield on the bridge?"
"Yes, sir," said the same man who'd spoken before. "He wanted to oversee our descent. The Lucifaria doesn't usually set down planetside."
Colonel Brocius chuckled. "No, it does not. All right, then, my people are waiting there with some of the locals. See that they get settled."
"Yes, sir!"
"Also, we'll be bringing two of the locals and their animals with us to Rylon. I'll be clearing that with your captain as soon as someone points me in the right direction." Colonel Brocius pointedly arched an eyebrow.
"I can take you to the bridge," the second person said, the timbre of voice indicating that she was most likely female. "Please follow me, Colonel."
Colonel Brocius glanced briefly over his shoulder and gave a slight nod to his waiting people, then disappeared into the ship after his guide. Major Mulhall, who had been standing silently with the rest of her people, turned around and started barking orders.
"Okay, people, anyone who's able-bodied needs to grab a piece of equipment and start loading. Those on the wounded list who can still walk need to get themselves to medical. Anyone who can't walk—I'm looking at you, Harris, you try to get up and I'll break your other leg—you stay put and we'll get some med stretchers out here. Now move!"
There was a flurry of motion as the Galactic Federation people hurried to obey, quickly forming a moving line of people carrying items into the ship. Major Mulhall turned toward Charlie and Jeremey and made her way over to them through the chaos.
"All right, that there's the cargo bay they're loading, probably the only space on the ship big enough for those dragons of yours. Once it settles down, get on up there and find a spot out of the way to wait for the colonel. Anyone gives you flak, you tell them to take it up with either me or the colonel. Got it?"
Charlie and Jeremey both nodded.
"Good." Major Mulhall smiled grimly. "Should be a smooth ride, but you never can tell with these naval boys." She turned away sharply, setting her braids to swaying, and strode off to go keep her people moving.
Charlie turned toward Jeremey. "Well, you ready for this?"
Jeremey drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "If I'm not, then it's too late now, isn't it?" He grinned.
Charlie laughed. "Good point. Come on, let's see if we can help them get some of those bigger pieces up the ramp."
Still grinning, Jeremey followed.
With the dragons' assistance, everything was loaded in short order. Charlie found a section of the cargo bay that didn't seem to see as much use and they settled themselves in to wait. Gradually, the number of people milling about began to drop, and the cargo bay door slid shut. Not long after, they could hear the hum of the engines.
"You think they forgot about us?" Jeremey asked.
Charlie shrugged. "I think they've got more important things to deal with first," he reasoned. "We aren't really needed until we get where we're going."
That was probably true, but Jeremey still didn't like feeling ignored. There wasn't anything he could do about it, though, so he settled back into the crook of Promise's front claws and waited with a patience he didn't feel. Still, he made sure to force his body to relax as he damn sure wasn't going to do something as childish as fidget in front of Sheriff Colcord.
Eventually, a set of footsteps approached them. Charlie and Jeremey got to their feet to be met by a smiling young man even darker of skin than Major Mulhall. He held out his hand to shake each of theirs.
"Petty Officer Jim Kelly. I've been asked to show you to your quarters, if you'll follow me."
Jeremey frowned. "But Promise—"
Kelly smiled again. "Your animals will be fine. The Flight Crew have been instructed not to mess with them, as have Supply. If you'll let us know their dietary requirements, then the galley can arrange regular feedings."
"But—" Jeremey looked back at Promise, who nudged him toward Petty Officer Kelly. Apparently Promise was all right with the arrangement, even if Jeremey wasn't.
"All right."
"This way," Kelly said, leading them out of the large room they'd been in and into a much smaller hallway. "Sections are color coded and numbered. This area's where orange and brown meet. Mess hall is white, two levels up on deck twelve. Captain's putting you in violet, deck ten, where most visitors stay."
The small hallway led into a slightly larger one and Jeremey nearly tripped as they came into view of more crew members going about their business. As far as he could tell, only one of them was human.
One was green and appeared to have several extra limbs. Another was thickly furred with enormous feet. A third had webbing running between its various limbs and possessed eyes that took up a large portion of its face. It was very difficult to keep from staring. There were so many species. His only consolation was that Charlie was staring too.
History lessons on Noman tended to focus on Noman with only a brief reminder of where they'd come from. After all, theirs was a frontier colony. They'd never expected to have any contact with the larger universe once it became clear that they were on their own. Jeremey had forgotten that the Galactic Federation was just that—an alliance of species with similar interests who got along relatively well. If it wasn't for their physical resemblance to the Vek, the dragons would likely fit in perfectly fine with the rest of the crew.
It took a moment before Kelly realized he'd lost his audience's attention. When he did, he laughed and pointed to the nearest beings in sequence. "Velorian, Rakka, Fah-rah-kli, Camphori. The Lucifaria has almost two dozen species on board making up one hundred and ninety-two crew members."
Two of the creatures he'd pointed to held up an appendage and waved. Petty Officer Kelly waved back. Jeremey found himself echoing the motion automatically.
"How does everyone talk to each other?" he wondered, not quite sure what would pass for a mouth on one of them.
"Most everyone speaks Standard," Kelly explained. "The Fah-rah-kli have the hardest time of it, so a special translator was developed for them. You can see it there around Gli-kah's neck."
"Looks like a necklace," Charlie observed.
Kelly nodded. "Beauty is very important to the Fah-rah-kli, so their translators are designed in a variety of aesthetically pleasing shapes. They then choose the one they like best according to their own tastes."
"Huh." Charlie shook his head. "Sure is different."
That was putting it mildly, Jeremey thought.
Kelly laughed. "I would imagine so. Now, then, this here is the lift, which wi
ll take us up to deck ten. In we go."
Jeremey warily followed Charlie into the small round room, only jumping a little as the doors closed behind them. He watched as Kelly tapped a glowing panel on the wall near the door.
"Level ten, section seventeen," Kelly said crisply. A line of lights running floor to ceiling promptly began to move, speeding up and then slowing down in the time it took to count to three.
The doors slid open again.
"Here we are, deck ten." Kelly stepped out of the little room and headed to the left. With considerably more caution, Jeremey and Charlie followed suit.
They were not where they'd come from. The line running horizontally along the walls at roughly shoulder height was purple instead of orange and the layout was different. If Petty Officer Kelly said that this was deck ten, and the "mess hall" was on twelve, two levels up from where they'd started out, then Jeremey's math told him that Promise and Zorevan had to be somewhere on level fourteen. Between orange and brown, Kelly had specified.
Hopefully that meant he could easily find his dragon if he needed to.
"All right, here we are," Kelly said, interrupting Jeremey's thoughts. "If you'll just place your hand on this panel here—"
Charlie looked dubious, but nonetheless placed his palm where Petty Officer Kelly indicated on a smooth rectangular space next to a door.
"Visitor access, first occupant," Kelly said aloud. The panel glowed briefly, then faded.
"All right, you're next," Kelly said, looking at Jeremey.
Jeremey gingerly placed his hand on the panel. When Kelly said "Visitor access, second occupant," the panel glowed for Jeremey just as it had for Charlie. Despite the glowing, it didn't feel any different.
"There you go," Kelly said, smiling brightly. "Now you can get in and out of your room by touching this panel again. Head down to the mess whenever you're hungry and anyone there can point you to recreation if you'd like to exercise a little. Any questions?"
Jeremey exchanged a glance with Charlie, who shrugged. Jeremey shook his head slowly. "I… don't think so?"
Kelly laughed. "Well, if you do, look for anyone with a violet stripe on their uniform and we'll set you straight."
Jeremey frowned. "What does that mean, the color? Why violet?"
"Violet means Operations Division," Kelly explained. "We're best able to deal with visitors. Each color indicates a different division, with different duties and expertise."
"Ah." Charlie nodded. "Ship this size, makes sense. Specialized personnel."
Kelly smiled. "Precisely." He looked between the two men. "If there was nothing else you needed me for, I should be getting back to my regular duties now."
Charlie waved a hand. "Go on, I'm sure we'll be fine. Right, Jasper?"
Jeremey nodded with more conviction than he felt. "Yeah, right."
Kelly's smile deepened. "All right, then. We're a little over four weeks out from Rylon, so I'm sure I'll be seeing you around." He waved and headed off down the corridor.
Charlie lifted his hand to the panel again, which glowed briefly and went out. The door slid open.
"Here we go," Charlie said quietly, almost under his breath, as he stepped into the room. Jeremey hesitated, then followed him quickly before the door decided to close.
They were in a small room with a table and a low, padded bench. There were three doorways leading into three other equally small rooms—two sleeping rooms and one that they assumed was a bathing room. Jeremey left his pack in one of the sleeping rooms and examined the bathing room.
"There are no handles. How do you suppose you turn it on?" he wondered.
Charlie peered down over his shoulder. "More of those hand panel things?"
"Maybe." Jeremey started poking at anything that didn't look as though it quite fit in with everything else. He must have gotten something right because very abruptly water sprayed out from the ceiling, drenching both he and Charlie.
"Off!" Charlie bellowed, backing out of the little room and shaking the water off his hat. "Turn it off!"
"I'm trying!" Jeremey shouted back, smacking spots at random as he couldn't remember exactly what he'd been touching when it had come on. Eventually he must have found the correct place because the water shut off.
"Well, that was exciting," Charlie drawled.
Jeremey took off his hat and shook the water off of it. Like the rest of him, it was drenched. "Is it too late to want to go home?" he asked with a sigh.
Charlie chuckled quietly. "Just remember why we're here. We'll get through this."
Jeremey sighed again. "To defeat the Vek, I know."
Charlie shook his head. "To protect our home."
Jeremey managed a faint smile. Charlie was right, of course. Jeremey had allowed everything else to overwhelm him to the point where he'd lost sight of what was important. He was a rider of Noman with all the corresponding duties and responsibilities.
He wouldn't back down just because he'd gotten a little wet.
"Right, so, do you think they use something as mundane as towels around here, or do we have to think ourselves dry?" Jeremey asked, summoning up a grin.
Charlie grinned back. "Guess we'd better start looking."
TEN
For all of its complexities, the bathing room turned out to be downright simple compared with the rest of the Lucifaria. The "mess hall," once they finally found it, had more buttons, switches, and panels than they had any hope of figuring out. Fortunately, several of the Lucifaria's crew took pity on them and, after a series of questions, managed to order something that was to Charlie and Jeremey's tastes.
Word must have gotten around after the first humiliating incident because no matter what time they showed up for meals, there was always someone in the mess hall who immediately jumped up to give them a hand. Or a tentacle. Or something vaguely similar.
The recreation area was just as bad, if not worse, since at least food looked like food even if it came out of a slot in the wall. The machines used by the crew members for exercise and recreation looked like some sort of exotic torture devices. As with the mess, there were crew members more than willing to help with the peculiar contraptions, but Jeremey decided he wasn't feeling up to quite that much adventure. Charlie tried out a couple of them before deciding they weren't for him.
"Kind of boring," he confided to Jeremey later.
The most interesting thing in the recreation area, in Jeremey's opinion, was the pool. Noman tended more toward quick-moving rivers than stationary bodies of water, going underground and coming back up again without warning in several places. There were two large seas, but they were far enough from Fair Valley and Deadwood Gulch that Jeremey had never seen them in anything but pictures.
The fact that Jeremey was fascinated by the pool fascinated the Lucifaria's crew. They would jump in and swim around, several of them in very dramatic fashion, while Jeremey watched, in up to his waist. No less than five of them offered to teach him to swim even though, as several admitted, he probably wouldn't be on the ship long enough to get all that good at it.
It was fun, at first, until Charlie wandered off to see what else the Lucifaria had to offer. Then Jeremey's audience moved far closer to him than they had been and hands and other appendages brushed up against him far too often to be chance. He climbed up out of the pool and dried off, making excuses about getting wrinkly and moving toward the changing area as quickly as he could without actually running.
He should have probably been flattered that these people who led far more interesting lives than he did found him interesting, but all he could think of, all he could feel was Harry's touch, Harry's kisses, and the throbbing ache of betrayal left behind.
Jeremey got dressed in record time and plastered a smile on his face, stumbling as he nearly collided with Petty Officer Connie Reeves, who was waiting just outside the changing area.
"Hey, Jeremey," Connie said, smiling impishly. "If you're done in the pool today, maybe you'd like to come check out my
bunk with me." She winked.
"Uh, no, thank you," Jeremey stammered, edging around until he reached the main rec room door. As soon as he was through, he bolted.
Jeremey didn't stop running until he reached the lift. Once inside, he rested his forehead against the wall and attempted to breathe steadily, with only partial success. He was all mixed up inside with so many feelings running through him, he didn't know what he was feeling.
Would he ever be able to touch another person without Harry's shadow hanging over him? Would there ever come a time when he could love someone without waiting for that moment of betrayal?
Maybe such things weren't for him. After all, he had Promise. What more did he really need?
Reaching up, Jeremey placed a palm on the panel by the door. "Deck fourteen," he said, grateful when his voice didn't squeak.
When the lift doors opened again, Jeremey followed his memory back to the cargo bay and curled up in the only safe place he knew—surrounded by dragons.
That was where Colonel Brocius found him, hours later.
"Ah, thought so," Colonel Brocius said with satisfaction as he entered the cargo bay and spied Jeremey curled up with the dragons.
Promise and Zorevan both turned their heads to watch Colonel Brocius approach. Jeremey wriggled in a completely undignified manner but finally managed to extricate himself from his dragon shelter and scramble to his feet.
"Jeremey, wasn't it?" Colonel Brocius asked once he was closer. "Would you come with me, please? I have a few questions I need to ask of you."
Jeremey glanced over his shoulder at the dragons, who didn't look particularly concerned.
"Uh, all right, um, sir?"
Colonel Brocius chuckled. "You don't have to 'sir' me, lad. Only those monkeys under my command are required to demonstrate the proper respect for their commanding officer."
"Yes, sir," Jeremey replied automatically, then grimaced. "I mean…"
Colonel Brocius laughed. "It's fine. Come on, then."
They exited the cargo bay and made their way to the lift, passing several crew members along the way. As Colonel Brocius placed his hand on the panel and called out their destination, Jeremey looked up at him curiously.