“This looks cool.” Ti pulled a large, fan-shaped, three-handled machine off the wall. “What do you think it does?
Pheno shrugged. “I don’t know.” He looked at the spot Ti had pulled the device from. A palm-sized, pale white disc had been affixed to the wall centered above the clamps that had secured the machine. Pheno looked along the curve of the wall. Every item had an identical white disk above it. He moved closer and shown his light on it, but no writing marked the surface. The disk felt rubbery when he touched it, and a thin slime coated his finger when he pulled away but sloughed off before he could examine it.
Ti turned and flipped the device; she grabbed each of the handles. Nothing happened. “Here, grab this third handle while I hold the other two.” Ti pushed the side of the machine toward Pheno.
“This is pointless; we need to find Eddientis,” said Pheno.
Ti shoved the handle into his chest. “I want to see how this works.”
Pheno twisted his hand through the spiral handle as best he could while Ti grasped the other two. Nothing.
“Let’s go, Ti.”
Ti yanked the machine away and shook it. “How do you turn this on?” She banged it against the cavern wall. A barely audible clink-clink followed a ripple of liquid that caused the suspended equipment in the middle to sway.
“Stop it, Ti! That’s not yours,” said Pheno.
“Then whose is it?” she asked.
A voice behind them spoke. “It being mine.”
“Eddientis!” Pheno spun around. An Ertryd floated less than three lengths from them. Pheno’s elation at rejoining with his friend cratered in a moment of doubt. He had never seen another Ertryd. How similar do they look? Are their translator voices unique to the individual or . . .
Ti menaced the Ertryd with what Pheno hoped was the dangerous end. “How do we know you’re you?”
“What?” Pheno glanced at Ti. “That sounds stupid.”
“Shut up, Lab Boy; I’m improvising.”
“I being Eddientis.”
“Yeah,” Ti nodded toward Pheno, “he said that.” She raised the machine to head level as if to sight in the Ertryd. “Prove it.”
The Ertryd cupped two tentacles under one of its dinner plate eyes. “Just being gazing into my EMERALD EYES—”
“Ok, we’re done here.” Ti lowered her equipment.
“They taste so mesmerizing, so enchanting, so—”
“Zip it, flotsam,” said Ti.
Eddientis formed a heart with its tentacles and pierced it with another. Pheno burst out laughing.
Ti shoved the machine into Pheno’s chest, pinning him against something painfully angular. “Ow!”
“Don’t mess with me.” Ti glared at Pheno and turned blue.
In that moment, Pheno wanted nothing more than to rip her helmet off and kiss her deeply. But for the violent seizures, exploding heart, and near instantaneous death from the influx of cyanide ions, he would have done it too—almost certainly.
Eddientis swam around them and pressed a suction disc to the white circle above the machine’s storage spot. “Stop splashing that around!” It lunged for the machine, grasping the free handle and prying at Ti’s grip on the others. “This being an arc mining drill!”
“Wait, it doesn’t wor—”
A blinding white light erupted from the drill’s curved edge when Eddientis wrested the third handle from Ti’s grip. Eddientis released the last handle and the drill shut off, leaving a wide hole in the chamber wall fractions of a tenth-length from Pheno’s chest. Water boiled around the rim of the cut.
“Whoa,” said Ti.
“Stop being touchy-feely,” said Eddientis.
“I’m not the problem,” said Ti. “You are.”
Eddientis carefully pushed the drill back onto its clamps. “No taste problem me.”
“I think she’s right, Eddientis. Ertryd tech must be keyed to work only with Ertryds.”
Ti waved an arm over the cavern’s holdings. “And . . . because nothing worked until you boarded . . .”
“I taste no Ertryds here,” said Eddientis.
“So, I guess this is your spaceport now,” said Pheno.
They spent a rotation securing the loose equipment in part because Pheno thought it important to know what had been taken and in part because restoring order to the depot struck them as the right thing to do. Between the labels Eddientis read and careful testing of the machines, the three felt confident they had correctly stowed everything.
Every empty space had held a device relating to matter replication, fabrication, or recycling.
“I’m thinking the raiders searched for the dark matter tech that Ambassador Amonin mentioned,” said Pheno.
Ti nodded inside her helmet.
“They being successful remains untasted,” said Eddientis.
“We’re missing something here, though.” Pheno scratched at his pinched brow but the visor of his helmet frustrated him. “Your people obviously thoroughly prepared for something after the collision, but to abandon their effort without any message or . . . or signal or something is too odd to be true.”
“Stranger things . . .” said Ti.
“No,” Pheno shook his head. “I mean they knew the exoplanet would destroy Ertryd. No surprises there. The Galactic Fleet blockade—standard protocol. Our research on Gressa revealed no record of a catastrophic surprise preempting the impact. Think about the effort required to create and place thousands of asteroid bases from here to the edge of dense space. Nothing less than a major, totally obvious, event would have prevented them from achieving such a large-scale goal. We need to find the Ertryd plan for these bases.”
“I would rather go home and evacuate my family,” said Ti.
“And how do you plan to do that?” asked Pheno. “You gonna run the blockade in Gallia’s little ship?”
“Well, of course, when you say it like that the plan sounds stupid.” Ti crossed her arms and looked away.
After a moment, Pheno said, “I know how you feel, Ti—”
“No you don’t; you can’t possibly know what being about to lose everybody feels like.” She jabbed a finger at Eddientis without looking, nearly poking the Ertryd in an eye. “Only it understands.”
“Fine, so I have no clue, but at least I can assess the situation objectively—”
“I swam all major corridors for station and tasted maps along way showing command center,” said Eddientis. “Perhaps plan being stored there.”
“Let’s go.” Ti pushed off hard toward the door they entered through.
“Uh, Ti swims wrong way.” Eddientis pointed down when she turned away.
“Right,” said Ti turning around, “that way.”
Pheno heard three sharp, loud beeps in his left ear. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” asked Ti.
“That noise—those beeps,” said Pheno.
“I being heard nothing,” said Eddientis.
“Me either,” said Ti.
“There it goes again. Three loud beeps in my left ear.”
“Weird.” Ti swam over to him with an awkward scuttle. She grabbed his arm and lifted his wrist to her visor. “Seriously? How can you be low on oxygen?” She examined her own wrist control band. “I’ve only burned ten percent. Honestly, I don’t know how you Haukens survived long enough to become the apex species on your planet.”
“What?” Pheno checked his suit’s wrist monitor. The oxygen sensor flashed red.
“You don’t have much time,” said Ti.
“So that’s it; I’m going to die?” Pheno’s calmness surprised him.
“No, moron, I’m sure our ship has some way to recharge your supply. Worst case scenario, you’re confined to the ship.” Ti released his arm and pressed a few buttons on her wrist. “I’m still picking up the ship’s beacon, so we’ll just stop by there on the way to wherever Eddientis wants to go.”
“I’m not a servile anymore; stop calling me names.” Pheno kicked h
ard to swim past Ti, but she put her palm on his chest and brought him to a hard stop.
“You’re a killer, a fugitive, an infuriating boy, a moron, and much more, so I’ll call you whatever pleases me,” she held his helmet in both hands and pulled his visor to hers, “but one thing you’ve never been is servile.” She pushed him away and swam off.
Pheno gasped. She had been so close. He could have kissed her . . . almost. He felt dizzy and unable to catch his breath. Then, thinking better about lingering with a low oxygen tank, he swam after his friends.
Eddientis stayed with them this time to keep the passage way lit; and, Pheno hoped, to quickly evacuate him to air if needed. By the time they reached the ship, his chest burned. They were trying to say something to him, but he couldn’t hear them. His heart beat too loudly in his ears. His tried to move, but his arms and legs felt like . . . like . . . his chest . . . burning.
Someone pushed Pheno through the containment shield and he floated into the air lock; he fumbled frantically for his visor release. Pheno felt Ti’s hands pulling his off the side of his helmet then his visor flipped back. He sucked deeply at the metallic-smelling air. Not enough; can’t get enough. Another breath and another and another. All his will—every quantum of effort—sought oxygen.
Ti’s gloved hand grabbed the top rim of his visor and pulled him forward. He yielded to the movement and allowed oxygen to restore him with each breath.
In the ship, when he could move again, Pheno asked, “Where’s Eddientis?”
“Eddientis stayed on the other side of the containment shield. It didn’t want to . . . uh, taste its prison again—Eddientis’s words, not mine,” said Ti.
Pheno felt several tugs on his back. “What are you doing?”
“I found the hookup to recycle oxygen in your suit.”
“How do you know this stuff, Ti?”
“I don’t really; this ship uses a lot of intuitive symbols to identify controls. I’m guessing that makes selling to customers with different language systems more cost effective.”
“Makes sense,” said Pheno. “Hey, thanks for saving my life.”
Ti said nothing for a long moment. “Pheno . . . do you . . . do you have any ideas about how to save Trelia? I mean my plan was stupid; I won’t breach the blockade. It’s just . . . my family and all, I—ugh! Stupid words never say what you feel.”
Pheno tried to turn and face her, but his suit snagged on something. He strained to look around the edge of his helmet to no avail.
“Hold still or you’ll pull out the cable,” said Ti.
“I guess most people think Trelia faces certain ruin, but my instinct tells me there might be a chance—”
“You think so, how?” asked Ti.
“The Ertryds planned something to deal with the destruction of their world. When we discover how they sought to save themselves, perhaps we can use a similar approach for Trelia.”
Pheno’s suited beeped. He glanced at his wrist. “I’m full.”
“Huh? Oh, the suit, right.”
Pheno felt himself float free. He turned toward Ti. She stowed the oxygen cable and spun toward him.
Ti hugged him, wrapping her arms and legs around him in a fierce grip. Little puffs of moisture fogged and faded on her visor. “I’m scared, Pheno.”
He flipped up the visor on her helmet. Tears welled in her eyes. “I will do everything possible to help you, Ti.”
She nodded. Hope and belief softened her face.
Her lips were right there. Now. Do it now. Pheno leaned forward. He closed his eyes and parted his lips for the ecstasy of her touch. Clink. Pheno opened his eyes. Ti opened hers. Their helmets had hit; Pheno puckered his lips trying to reach her. Clink. Clink.
Ti burst into laughter. She tightened her embrace against the unbound fits of giggles that followed. He felt desperation in her grip even as her laughter mocked him.
Pheno popped the three latches on his helmet collar and twisted it. He chucked the helmet aside, flipped her latches, and tossed Ti’s helmet after his.
He pressed his lips to hers.
She giggled.
His kiss caught her laughter, and pressed on. Pheno’s hands slid up the curve of her back; he held her to him.
Ti’s arms and legs loosened. She moaned and melted into him.
The sound, so soft and wanting, consumed Pheno. Her touch, her breath on his cheek, her body pressed against his overwhelmed him. Through his kiss he yearned to reach her, to tell her everything he had failed to say for too long.
Her lips met his again and again. Her hands slid off his back; her thighs released; her body yielded to him.
Pheno slid a hand to her waist and held her to him. She matched him kiss for kiss, confusing his thoughts and steadily, irrevocably, deliciously overpowering him.
She broke the spell when Pheno’s head hit the ship’s bulwark. They floated together, forehead to forehead and nose to nose, panting.
“Wow,” whispered Ti.
Pheno barely managed a fraction of a nod.
He had no idea how long they held each other. Ti spoke first. “We, um, we should . . .”
“Go.” That wasn’t the word he wanted.
She nodded and pushed away.
They retrieved their helmets. Pheno fumbled with his third latch, so Ti moved behind him to assist. “Ti?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think—ack, I don’t know—forget it.”
She spun him around. An amused smirk complimented her shift to gray. “What?”
“Never mind; it makes no difference.”
She pressed her helmet’s visor against his. “Tell me, Lab Boy.”
“Do you, um, well, you know?” asked Pheno.
Ti quirked her brow.
That made focusing more difficult for him. “I mean, do you think like we’re, ah, compatible—physically?”
She rolled her eyes, grinned and took in his body. “Totally, I looked it up. We’re good for six of the nine ways.” Ti flushed pitch black, pushed off his chest and shot through the airlock.
“Ok, that’s—wait, what?” But she was gone.
Pheno found her with Eddientis.
“I drifted into the stagnant pool of boredom waiting,” said Eddientis.
Ti met his gaze and smiled but kept Eddientis between them.
“Sorry, we were, I wanted—no, I needed—cripes! Why is this so difficult? Oxygen, she,” Pheno mimed the insertion of the hose into the tank. Eddientis and Ti stared at his hand movement. He looked down and immediately ceased the obscene gesture. “Mhmm.” He nodded.
Ti embarrassed him with a giggle, but he noted her exquisite wine tinge with a surge of warmth that raised the question of whether he turned a complimentary shade.
Chapter 8
The command center struck Pheno as trivial compared to other chambers and spans of corridors they had passed through. The spherical space fit one adult Ertryd, no more, and contained nothing within. Only three tunnels accessed the space. Two disc-shaped areas on opposite sides of the sphere reflected light from his helmet lamps; a fluorescent blue goo coated the remainder of the surface.
Pheno guessed the blue coating on the interior served as a protein-based interface for Ertryds, similar to the labels in the depot; however, the size of the command center confounded him. He wondered how and why a social species, with no discernable hierarchy, or separation for that matter, delegated command decisions to a single person. Decisions, even collective choices, require individuals to act, but how could the group-mindedness of an Ertryd enable them to perform alone?
“Well, this is disappointing,” said Ti.
Eddientis swam into the middle of the command center and spread its tentacles in all directions. Pheno and Ti remained at the edge of the access tube from which Eddientis entered. When its tips touched the goo-coated surfaces, stars shown in the reflective discs. Pheno panicked and pinned Ti to the corridor’s side, bracing himself for fluid expulsion into the breach.
> Ti patted his shoulders. “Easy, Sigma Boy, the discs are in situ displays, not gaps in the hull.”
“Oh, sorry.” He released her.
“Thanks for not wedging me into the hole to stop depressurization.” Ti grinned.
“Whatever,” said Pheno.
“Being so tasteless,” said Eddientis.
“Why?” asked Pheno.
“No Ertryds being connected to this command center,” said Eddientis.
“Eddientis, what’s that?” Ti pointed to a small dot moving among the stars on one of the disks.
Eddientis looked at the image. The dot enlarged to a bright blob. Without moving, Eddientis continued to focus on the blob. The image enlarged until the picture of a spaceship came into focus.
“Can you tell who that is?” asked Pheno.
“I taste no markings,” said Eddientis.
“Probably a bounty hunter, but how did they find us?” asked Ti.
Pheno’s stomach tightened. “The beacon on our ship. Gallia must have encountered them en route to Amo and given them our general location. Your homing device finished the job.”
Ti scowled as her fingers flashed over the electronics on her forearm. “I’ve shut it off.”
“Now they know we see them,” said Pheno.
“You had a better idea?” asked Ti.
Pheno shrugged, “Can we outrun them in our ship?”
“Unlikely, they’re already at speed; we’d have to launch from here using our puny onboard photon accelerators. I’m guessing they would overtake us before we reached terminal speed, but I don’t really know. I’d have to gauge their speed, do the math. They’re still far out. If we hurry . . .”
“I being here,” said Eddientis.
“Eddientis, you can’t stay. They’ll capture you and deliver you to the Galactic Union,” said Pheno.
The ship grew larger in the image.
“I never again tasting containment.”
Dense Space Page 10