“Have you been job hunting a while?”
“A month.”
“Okay. Are there any master-pilots here in the hall?”
Generalov did not even look around.
“Only one. The one who approached you first.”
“All right … see you tomorrow.”
After the navigator left, Alex threw back his sake in one gulp. Found the waiter with a glance, made a light gesture in the air, as if signing his check. That sly natural had really put one over on him! One should never underestimate the genetically unaltered, never! First that absurd question about his attitude toward gays, as if it were any of the captain’s business who his crewmembers slept with. And then, after Alex had declared that he wasn’t biased, came the real blow.
A navigator who was a natural … impossible!
And what would be the reaction of the other crewmembers? Janet, who had five specializations? The young engineer, just out of college?
Well, if any of them protested, that would be another reason to back out … no, unfortunately, Janet had not signed the contract yet. Unless Paul Lourier refused to trust his life to a natural …
For a second, a crazy thought flashed through Alex’s mind—what if he were to ask, or even to order, the engineer to oppose Generalov’s candidacy? Paul had signed the contract earlier, and from a formal point of view, Alex had a duty to consider his opinion.
The thought came and passed, leaving an unpleasant trace. On one point, Generalov was absolutely right. Lying was hard for pilots. This was part of the price they paid for the stars. Along with their inability to love other humans.
A waiter came. Alex paid his bill and quickly left the dining hall. Two vacancies remained unfilled, but he had an idea about one of them. It was a crazy idea, but it was worth a try.
The hotel front desk had yet another clerk behind it this time. This fellow did not pay any attention to Alex and beamed at the mere sight of the captain’s uniform. Such important customers were rare at the Hilton.
Alex went up to his room and touched the doorbell sensor. Caught himself feeling intensely curious. Had Kim really waited for him, or had she preferred to disappear, having first cleaned out the room’s credit line?
One always had to pay for believing in people’s honesty. But Alex found a strange, perverse pleasure in it on those rare occasions when his faith was vindicated.
Kim opened the door.
She had waited!
Alex shook his head, though he was glad to see the unfeigned joy on the girl’s face.
“Kim … I asked you to block the door. You didn’t even look through the peephole.”
“How do you know?”
“When the door camera is on, the lens turns on an infrared light. I can see it clearly.”
“Oh …” Kim stepped back from the door to let him pass. “Well … I didn’t have to look. I knew it was you.” Now it was Alex’s turn to be surprised.
“How did you know?”
“By the sound of your steps. You have a peculiar walk, as if you’re trying not to lift your feet from the floor.”
“Oh? I hadn’t ever noticed …” Alex closed the door. Looked down at his feet. “Do I drag my feet?”
“You don’t drag them, you just hurry to put them back down. And you never let both feet leave the ground at the same time!” Kim jumped up. “What are you so serious about? I am sorry I didn’t look through the peephole. I’ll get in the habit, I promise!”
“If both your feet leave the ground, that means you’re running …” Alex bit his lip. Both your feet … and if your feet and legs and pelvis leave without your consent, that’s called a work-related injury. “Kim, I get it. There’s no artificial gravity on Hamsters and other system freighters. I trained on those for about six months. And got used to depending on Velcro. Or maybe it was a part of my specialization. To never lose my balance points.”
Kim’s interest in the subject seemed to be exhausted.
“That’s great. Very useful precaution, friend-spesh. See how I’ve spent your money?”
She spread out her arms and whirled around, all the while trying to keep him in her field of vision.
“I see. You’ve changed.”
Her worn-out jeans and sweater had been replaced by a black pantsuit. In it, Kim resembled a young professional. Her white blouse and a tiny black tie further enhanced this resemblance.
“Does it look good on me?” asked Kim.
“Yes, very good.”
The girl smiled.
“And you look good in your uniform.”
“You even look a little older,” Alex continued. “You might pass for someone who’s had her metamorphosis six months ago and been through some accelerated training courses already.”
“Why? Is that important?”
“Probably. We have to talk, Kim.”
She immediately got serious. Alex took her by the hand, led her into the room, and made her sit down in a chair. He sat down in front of her, then got out his cigarettes and lit up.
“Give me a cigarette.”
Alex lit another cigarette and handed it to her.
“We have to talk” is a magic phrase. One of the few that instantly puts a person into a serious mode. No one ever says it in order to talk about the weather or to discuss weekend plans.
It is very instructive to watch the reaction of a person expecting a serious conversation. Some people get nervous, some withdraw into themselves, some prepare for a confrontation.
Kim simply braced herself.
“What is your name? Your full name?”
“Kim O’Hara.”
“How old are you?”
“Fourteen. As of one month ago.”
“Are you from Quicksilver Pit?”
“No.” Kim shook her head.
“Then where are you from?”
“I won’t answer that.”
Alex sighed. He never expected this conversation to be easy, but the girl’s tone of voice was really beginning to trouble him.
“Kim, I must know.”
“Why?”
The girl switched to a counterattack.
“Kim, do you have friends or relatives on Quicksilver Pit?”
Silence.
“How long have you been on this planet?”
“What is it to you?”
Great. Why did it have to be this way? You try to help, and all you get is ingratitude!
“All right.” Alex interrupted the silence that had stretched between them. “Let’s figure out why I need to know this. Yesterday, I pulled you through an off-track metamorphosis. Right?”
Kim took a deep breath and exhaled audibly. Whispered:
“I am thankful, friend-spesh …”
“You don’t have to thank me. I could not act otherwise, so I can take no credit for that. But for the same reason that I had to help you …”
Kim looked at him in surprise.
“For that very reason, I can’t just walk away and leave you to your fate. Do you need help?”
The girl lowered her eyes.
“Do you or don’t you?” asked Alex harshly. “I got hired onto a ship. Okay? In a couple of days, I’m leaving Quicksilver Pit, and I may be gone for a very long time. Do you need help?”
“Yes. I do.”
“That’s better.”
Well, no, it wasn’t really better. But at least it was out in the open.
Kim got up, went over to the window, and stood still, gazing into the dim evening sky. She stuck her hands in her pockets and again stood still, having suddenly lost all her happy enthusiasm.
Alex bit his lip. Was this real, or was she just pretending? Either way, it was useless. Apparently the girl did not really understand the reason why he cared about her.
“Where are you from, Kim?”
“Edem.”
“How in the world did you end up here?” Alex was feverishly trying to visualize the route. Damn … the opposite side of the human sector of spac
e! No less than seven hyper-channel trips or a direct jump in a courier ship. But there were no direct flights from Edem to Quicksilver Pit. There was no demand for them at all. “You’re very far away from home.”
“I don’t have a home anymore. I ran away from my family.”
“Why? No, never mind. That’s not important. How did you get over to Quicksilver Pit?”
“I’m gifted.”
“I believe you, Kim. But before the metamorphosis, you were legally still a minor. To traverse two hundred light years without any documents, or any money …”
“Who said I had no money?”
Alex nodded. She was right.
“All right. But why Quicksilver Pit?”
“I had my reasons to head nowhere but here.”
“Kim … if you won’t trust me, like you trusted me yesterday, it won’t work between us.”
“And what is supposed to work?”
It seemed she was crying, after all. Quietly, inaudibly. To walk over to her now, to hug her, to console her, would be the most natural thing to do. And absolutely the wrong thing to do.
“Are you a fighter-spesh?”
“I guess so.”
“What do you mean, you guess so? Kim, every child-spesh knows what he or she is going to be. If a geisha-girl and a boy-doctor play doctor together, they play differently. The girl will be interested in the erotic part of the game. She’ll study the rudimentary sexual reactions. The boy will try to listen to her chest, get her pulse, feel her bone structure, and examine her tonsils. If an architect-child builds a sand castle, that castle will last for a week. How did you play as a kid? Did you like to fight?”
“Yes.”
“Did you win?”
“Of course.”
“What about playing with dolls?”
“I wouldn’t mind a doll even now.” Kim giggled suddenly. “When I ran away from home, I took Lucita with me. She’s my favorite doll. But she was lost with my bag … on a ship.”
Alex rubbed his forehead. He had had occasion to see girl-speshes who were honed to become fighters. Did they play with dolls? Maybe, but for some reason, he thought that the future fighters were more likely to use their dolls for practice, as punch dummies …
“I played doctor, too,” said Kim suddenly. “But I don’t know what was more interesting to me—the pulse rate, or the sexual reactions.”
“Kim, my ship needs a fighter-spesh.”
The girl turned to him.
“Really?”
“Yes. But you have no ID. And no fighter certificate, either. How about we go to the nearest clinic tomorrow, run a genetic analysis, and have your new documents issued?”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“They’ll come looking for me, don’t you see that?”
“You’ve had your metamorphosis. You’re of age now. Even if, according to your specialization agreement, you owe your parents the reimbursement of its cost, that can’t infringe on your individual rights …”
“No!”
Her voice had risen to a shout. To keep insisting would be pointless.
“But you have nothing against employment on a ship?”
“Nothing.”
“I’ll think of something, Kim. If you are really a fighter-spesh, then everything’s all right.”
The girl looked at him, frowning. Alex patiently waited.
“Why do you even bother helping me?”
He answered with a question. “How much do you know about pilot-speshes?”
“Nothing. Well, you told me you guys have strong bones and a good eye …”
“And we also have a heightened sense of responsibility. A pilot never forsakes his crew or his passengers.”
“But … I’m not your crew …” The girl came closer to him, sat down on the floor beside his chair, looked deep into his eyes.
“Yesterday, I had no crew, Kim. I helped you out on the monorail, fed you … and things just kept going from there. So there’s no point thanking me for my selfless kindness. That’s just the way I’m made. See?”
“How strange …” All her recent tears had vanished without a trace. Kim stretched out her hand, touched Alex’s face. “So you’re … not free?”
“What makes you say that?”
Her hand was caressing his face, slowly, as though she were a blind girl, exploring his features.
“You are forced to be kind and caring …”
“Kim, we are all forced to do different things. A soldier has a duty to give his life for humanity, a doctor to save the life of a patient, a pilot to protect his crew. Even the naturals aren’t any more free than we are. We speshes change at the moment of metamorphosis, when the nucleic bombs go off. The naturals are also coerced all their lives as well, by their parents, school, society …”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s the same thing, Kim. I know that I have a heightened sense of responsibility towards others. So what? Is that a bad thing? If I were a cynical, heartless bastard … like a detective-spesh, for instance … then I’d have something to worry about.”
“You wouldn’t worry. You would think that was the right way to be.”
“Kim …”
Alex gently pulled her up from the floor, sat her down onto his lap.
“You are right about some things, of course. But I’m not at all bothered by the details of my specialization. That would be like complaining about being beautiful, or healthy, or smart. If everyone were specialized in at least a few basic moral qualities, life would be better.”
Kim nodded. But she still looked rather uncomfortable. Could it be the material basis for his actions that kept bothering her?
“Kim, don’t worry about it. I’m glad I could help you out. I would have done it even without any kind of specialization. You are a very nice girl.”
“You like me, then?” She looked into his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Alex …” Her fingers slid up through the pilot’s hair. “Don’t misunderstand me, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
“Maybe you think I am sorry for you. It’s not that. Or that I am trying to repay you for your kindness. It’s not that, either …”
Alex put a gentle hand to her lips.
“Kim. Don’t.”
The girl shook her head.
“No! You don’t understand! Alex … I know things never happen like that. You don’t believe me!”
“Kim, I do believe you, but …”
“No, you don’t! You think I’m a little horny bitch. And that I got over from Edem that way, too …”
Alex kept his silence. He did not exclude that possibility, but did not think it the only option, either.
“Maybe you think this is the way I want to repay my debt … but it’s not that. Honest! Do you believe me?”
Alex gazed into her eyes for a second. Many people were skilled in the art of lying. But was it possible to lie like this?
“Kim, I do believe you. Are you sure you have to do this?” Instead of an answer, she leaned over and kissed his lips. Her kiss had none of the maddeningly alluring skill of a real geisha-spesh. It was an ordinary kiss of a girl with very little sexual experience. But at the same time …
Alex suddenly realized that he had absolutely no wish to change her mind.
For a few minutes they kissed, greedily, rapturously. Alex took off Kim’s tightly fitted jacket, unbuttoned her blouse. Still kissing him, she swayed her shoulders, sliding out of her clothes. She kept clinging to Alex, as though shy of her nakedness, and that helped him chase away the pesky memories of the previous night, when her naked body held no erotic appeal, only fear and pain.
Damn …
Damn!
“Kim,” said Alex, trying to move away, “Kim, Kim, wait …”
The girl sat still, looking at him a little fearfully. She had already managed to unzip her pants and half-take them off … a real scene from an erotic comedy …
“Kim … you just had your metamorphosis …”
“So what?”
Her voice shook a little. She was a lot more excited than Alex.
“Kim … you can’t have sexual contact for at least a week. When I was done with my metamorphosis, my girlfriend came to visit, and the doctor warned us right away to wait at least a week… . That’s the general rule.”
“But why?”
“Kim …” The pilot hugged her tightly. “Let’s not. Your development already got messed up once. Let’s not rush things.”
For a second she stared at him, shocked and speechless, as though she wasn’t sure if the pilot was telling her the truth or just kidding, clumsily. Then her lips started trembling.
Alex held her back as she tried to free herself from his embrace. Hugged her, whispered in her ear:
“Kim, it’s gonna be all right. Don’t rush things. I’ll make you a crewmember. Wait just a little while.”
“You don’t like me!” whispered Kim, sobbing.
“I do … Kim, honey, don’t cry. I just don’t want any harm to come to you.”
“It’s all your stupid sense of responsibility!” she yelled, lifting her wet face for a second. “It’s all your specialization! And nothing would’ve happened! I feel just fine!”
There was no point in arguing, so Alex said nothing. They sat for a few minutes in the chair together. The girl sobbed quietly, clinging to Alex and no longer trying to wrench herself free. Then, fidgeting awkwardly on his lap, she pulled on her pants, leaned away slightly. Asked, in a probing tone of voice:
“You really are attracted to me?”
“You haven’t noticed?”
Kim wiped her eyes with her hand.
“Friend-spesh, don’t lie to me, okay? I had only two men in my life, so I don’t know, maybe I’m ugly …”
“Oh, come on,” said Alex with a sly grin. “You know you are a very pretty girl. Fighters’ looks aren’t programmed, so this is entirely your own achievement.”
“Vladimir also said that.”
“Vladimir?”
“My first guy. He was a good friend of my parents, and I liked him, too. My parents arranged for him to be my sex instructor. But we didn’t meet for very long. Vladimir was a very busy man. An artist-spesh. His paintings are even exhibited on Earth. He did my portrait, too, by the way.”
The Genome: A Novel Page 8