The Humans laughed.
Zelda burned brightly in the Harmonies, but then Humans tended to be that way. It didn’t mean anything. Her friend though. Kazim had named her Shortcut. She was special. Not in herself but in the way she seemed to orbit Zelda in the Harmonies. They could be sibs. She didn’t think they were, but Shortcut’s love for Zelda was obvious in her mind glow, and their auras were touching. Mingling. It reminded her of Kate when she was near Stone.
The tour guide droned on, but Zelda was more entertaining and no one took any notice of him. She introduced the other Humans with her. Kazim had been right about Shortcut. The others were Zelda’s security detail, and some media people. Tei’Shima memorised their names and scents.
She bowed. “May you live in harmony. It’s an honour to meet you all.”
Zelda bowed in return. “The honour is very much ours. I wish the rest of the guys could have met you, but they didn’t feel up to the trip. Their loss, eh?” Zelda wrapped an arm around Shortcut, and the woman nodded. “After meeting Gina and Eric, I couldn’t wait to see you, Shima.”
“It’s Tei’Shima now,” Kazim confided as if revealing a secret. “She gets touchy about it, but don’t mind her.”
Zelda and friends grinned. That Human trait was still startling. Tei’Shima forced herself not to react to it, or to Kazim’s impudence.
“You know Gina?” Tei’Shima said.
She hadn’t crossed paths with the vipers this trip, but she’d known they were part of the games. Tei’Laran had mentioned the referees had assigned them to play together on the same side. A shame, because she still didn’t know if she could stalk a viper undetected. It would’ve been fun to find out.
“I met her at the convention a few weeks ago,” Zelda said. “She’s a fan.”
An air impeller? That couldn’t be right. Zelda meant Gina had honoured her by admiring her work. Professional respect then. If Gina respected Zelda, then she must be worthy of it.
“May I interview you?” Kazim said. “It would play very well back home.”
“Sure,” Zelda said. “We’ll have to do it here though. I’m booked solid after this until my ship leaves at the end of the month.”
“If it’s too much trouble, just tell him no,” Tei’Shima said. “He doesn’t know when to switch that thing off.”
Kazim gasped in outrage, eliciting more Human laughter.
Varya chuffed and smacked Kazim’s shoulder. “She’s right.”
Zelda grinned. “It’s okay. I’m always switched on.”
Shortcut nodded. “She isn’t joking. She’s in costume all the time. She changed her name to Zelda when our first season went viral.”
“What about you?” Kazim said, already sniffing out an interesting story.
“You think I want to be called Shortcut for real? She’s just a part I play. Selene Anduran is my real name. Everyone calls me Shortcut because I hang with Zelda all the time. I’m fine with that. It’s better to be Shortcut, Zelda’s rich and famous co-star, than Selene Nobody.”
Zelda hugged her friend. “You’ll never be a nobody. Not to me.”
Tei’Shima watched in fascination as the Harmonies revealed their auras flaring up. Where their energies merged, new patterns were born in little explosions of colour.
“And that concludes the orientation briefing,” the tour guide said desperately. “Are there any questions regarding the regulations I’ve just explained to you?” He didn’t wait to find out if there were. “Good. Let’s get to the fun part. If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you suited up for the tour. This way.”
Zelda grinned. “Can you interview me on the move, Kazim?”
Tei’Shima rolled her eyes. “Of course he can. He never puts that thing down.”
“Good then. Better not keep Mark waiting.”
They moved to join their guide waiting at the door.
“Did you know we sometimes use cameras worn like a neural headset, Kazim?” Shortcut said. “POV cameras they’re called. They’re completely hands free.”
“Pee-oh-vee?”
“Point of view. They record what the actor sees from their point of view. We use them to make full-sensory sensims. Newsies use their own version for convenience. Like I said, they’re hands free. They’re controlled using neural commands.”
Tei’Shima sighed. Kazim would want one of those for certain. She could tell by his scent and his reaction in the Harmonies that the idea excited him. She wondered how much they cost, and where to buy one. She would search Infonet, but later. When she was alone.
* * *
33 ~ Inconvenient Tails
Nstar Industries Orbital Shipyard, Pandora System
Tei’Shima tried not to laugh at the dismay on the technician’s face. He’d been delighted when Mark brought Zelda into his presence, but when the Shan arrived, he realised he needed to fit them into suits designed for Humans!
“This is Todd,” Mark said. “He’s responsible for dispensing safety equipment here at Nstar. I’ll leave you with him, and he’ll get you outfitted.”
“Err...” Todd said.
“I need to get suited up. Shall we say thirty minutes?”
“Err...”
“Great! See you soon,” Mark said and hurried out.
All eyes swung to Todd. The poor unprepared Human paled when Kazim flourished his tail over one shoulder. It didn’t mean anything. Kazim was making his differences obvious to garner a reaction for his audience. As always his camera was on and recording everything.
Zelda came to the rescue. “Hey, Todd is it?” Todd nodded and allowed her to turn him away from that horrifyingly mobile tail. “Todd. You can see my friends might be a challenge, but think of this as your opportunity to shine.”
“Shine, ma’am?”
“Kazim there, he’s a big deal back home. He’s going to make you famous!”
Tei’Shima laughed quietly. Todd wasn’t comforted. The poor male was going to faint if Zelda helped him any further.
“How about this?” Zelda went on. “You outfit me and my guys first. Kazim can record that, right?”
“I guess.”
“Of course he can! You’ll do great.”
“Okaaay,” Todd said, and took a deep breath. “You first, ma’am?”
“Sure!”
Zelda removed her belt and holster. Shortcut took them and her jacket.
“Boots too, ma’am.”
“I remember,” Zelda said and sat on a chair to remove them. She stood up and turned on the spot with arms up at her sides. “Good?”
Todd nodded and pointed to a door. Zelda opened it and disappeared inside. The green light above it turned red, and Todd sat before a control station.
“What is she doing in there?” Kazim said.
“Ah,” Todd said. He looked up from his controls, startled to find himself pinned in place by Kazim’s camera lens. “I’ll show you.”
A wall-screen came to life showing Zelda standing on a platform. The room was quite gloomy. The platform slowly began rotating, and lines of coloured light covered Zelda in a grid pattern.
“What’s that?” Kazim said.
“The computer uses the grid to measure the subject, and the data is passed to the nano-printer next door. You’ve used an autochef, right?”
“On the ship. It was the only source of food and water.”
“Right, well, a nano-printer is like an autochef, but instead of food it makes things like suits.”
“It’s a nano-factory?” Kazim said.
“Not really. Proper factories can mass-produce things ten times faster and cheaper, but nano-printers are great for making one-off items. Engineers on warships use them to make critical parts if they run out.”
“Interesting.”
Todd nodded. “They’re old technology, but they’re still useful. The navy only uses them in emergencies. Raw materials are too bulky for everyday use.”
Tei’Shima watched Zelda follow Todd’s instructions. She had to
raise and lower her arms and legs. The computer needed her body’s full range of motion to measure it accurately.
“Will the new suits be the same as Fleet uses?” Tei’Shima wondered aloud. “I mean, shouldn’t you measure her without her clothes on?”
Todd blushed, and the Harmonies revealed he found that idea to be a good one. A very good one. Shortcut did as well, but she wasn’t blushing. She had a secretive smile on her face.
“I ah... no,” Todd stuttered. “I mean no, they’re completely different. Your suits will be a standard short EVA design. Naval shipsuits are custom jobs. They have plumbing connections and nano-self-repair as standard. Shipsuits are like uniforms, not EVA suits. They aren’t self-contained. They use umbilicals designed to keep a crewman alive at his station.”
“What if someone needs to leave for some reason?” Kazim said.
“The navy uses hardsuits for that. Marines and damage control parties use them when their ships go to battle stations. Engineers too.”
“Thank you for explaining,” Tei’Shima said.
“You’re welcome,” Todd said as Zelda emerged from the scanning chamber. “Next please.”
Shortcut handed Zelda her things, kicked off her boots, and entered the chamber. Todd repeated the process for all the Humans, and then it was Tei’Shima’s turn. She removed her harness and weapons, but Todd wasn’t sure his system would work for Shan.
“Don’t anticipate,” Zelda soothed.
“But...” Todd began.
“Try. It might be fine. It might not. Fix what goes wrong when it happens. Okay?”
Todd nodded.
Tei’Shima entered the chamber and climbed onto the platform. She stood on two legs, but wondered if four would be better. No. She decided to mimic a Human as much as possible. There was no point in confusing Todd’s computer any more than necessary. It would probably have a crisis when it scanned her tail. She wondered if it would think she had three arms.
“Okay,” Todd said. His voice came from a speaker over the door. “Here we go.”
The scanning lines decorated her pelt, and the platform slowly turned. She kept vertical and still. When Todd told her to raise her arms, she followed instructions. It didn’t seem any different from the other sessions.
“Okay. I’ve backed-up your scan in case the next part goes wrong. Can you stand on four feet, please?”
Tei’Shima dropped to all fours. She stood in a natural and relaxed posture as the scan continued.
“Okay!” Todd sounded pleased. “It’s working fine. I’m a bit surprised to be honest. Either the software is more advanced than I thought, or the devs cut some corners. My bet is they used code designed for scanning other things.”
Tei’Shima didn’t particularly care why it worked as long as it did. She followed instructions, lifting and placing her feet as if walking in place. Last of all, Todd backed-up the scan again before asking her to use her tail.”
“To do what?” she asked.
“Whatever you like. Imagine you’re wearing a suit and need to use it.”
She’d never worn a suit, so imagining that was hard. Still, she moved her tail as if limbering up for a run. It seemed to satisfy.
“And that’s it. You’ll need to test the fit for me. If it’s okay, I’ll scan your friends.”
Tei’Shima left the chamber. Zelda and the others were pulling on suits. Todd wasn’t present, but before she could comment on that, he reappeared carrying a white bundle. He offered it to her.
“It looks all right. All the parts are there, and it does seem Shan-shaped.” Todd shrugged. “I guess the proof is in the eating.”
“Eating?” Kazim said.
Zelda laughed. “A silly Human saying, Kazim. The proof of the pudding is in the eating. It means you can’t tell how good something is until you try it.”
Tei’Shima pulled the suit on. There was a long pocket for her tail, and although it felt strange, it did allow her full range of motion. She sealed the suit, and dropped to all fours to walk around the room. It felt very odd. She could imagine it would become uncomfortably warm if worn too long.
“Better not try your claws,” Kazim warned from behind his camera.
“Good point,” Varya said.
Todd gaped like a landed fish. “Don’t do that. You might puncture it.”
Tei’Shima stood on two legs to take the helmet. It was shaped to allow her face to clear the visor, and it was just a bit taller for her ears. It fit surprisingly well. It was more comfortable than the rest of the suit.
She removed it. “It’s fine, but I’m already feeling too hot.”
“It will be climate-controlled, but that’s handled by the PLSS. Those are stored in the pod bay for charging.”
Tei’Shima unsealed the suit and peeled it down to her hips. How Humans put up with wearing clothes all the time, she would never understand. Even wearing the suit for a short time had been stifling.
“Better?” Todd said.
Tei’Shima flicked her ears. She nodded as well in case he didn’t understand.
“Great. You’re next, Kazim.”
Varya took charge of Kazim’s beloved camera, and recorded his session.
“Hey Todd?” Zelda said. “Have you got any kit bags for our stuff?”
Todd pointed to a cupboard, but he didn’t take his eyes off his controls. Kazim emerged and took charge of his camera for Varya’s session.
Mark returned while Varya was still being scanned. His EVA suit was orange, and the helmet he carried was a glossy white. He counted his charges and came up one short. Varya.
“Everything all right?” Mark said. “Any problems?”
“None,” Todd said as Varya reappeared.
“Good!”
Todd went to fetch Varya’s suit, and a few minutes later, he was pulling it on to test the fit. Mark watched the process.
“Do you want a bag for your things?” Zelda said. “There’s room in ours.”
“We’ll carry our own weight, but thank you for the offer,” Tei’Shima said. Zelda’s bag was stuffed and looked bulky.
She retrieved an empty bag and stuffed her gear into it along with Kazim’s harness. Varya took charge of it and stored his gear with the rest. Kazim kept his camera. Of course.
“Are we ready?” Marcus said, and everyone muttered agreement. “Follow me to the pod bay then.”
Kazim interviewed Zelda and Shortcut as they made their way through the corridors of the busy station. Tei’Shima assumed he’d need to do a lot of editing later. Humans were a chatty bunch, and the background noise was loud. She asked about that.
“Shift change,” Mark explained. “Nstar uses a three-shift rotation to give the yard around the clock coverage.”
“They’re going down to Pandora?”
“No need for that. They live here on the station. Nstar supplies accommodations to its employees and their families as part of their employment contracts.”
“There are younglings here?” Tei’Shima said.
She hadn’t met any and wondered what they were like. Slow growing. She knew that but not much else. She wondered what they were like in the Harmonies.
“Oh yes! We have schools for them of course. Nstar takes employee comfort seriously. Our stations have everything they might need. Think of it as a city in orbit.”
Tei’Shima flicked her ears and nodded thoughtfully. The station was huge. She’d seen its exterior upon her final approach. The pilot of the shuttle had let her visit the cockpit to see it. Despite the station’s size, the rest of the shipyard dwarfed it. The dock had to be big enough to accommodate ships under construction.
“How many live here?”
“I don’t actually know,” Todd said. “No one has asked me that before. I do know Nstar employs over ten-thousand yard workers, and all of them live here. There are a few thousand station staffers as well, and then all the dependents on top of that.”
“Twenty-thousand then?”
Mark nodded
. “Possibly more. I don’t remember ever seeing census data.”
Tei’Shima wondered if the younglings ever visited Pandora. What must it be like for them, living on a station all the time? Did they even know what they were missing? She couldn’t imagine never feeling the sun on her face, or scenting prey on a fresh breeze.
Mark ushered them into an elevator and they descended to the pod bay.
* * *
34 ~ Five Credit Tour
Nstar Industries Orbital Shipyard, Pandora System
To Tei’Shima’s surprise, she quickly became used to the EVA suit. The benefits of the PLSS on her back far outweighed the inconvenience. Breathing was something she was fond of, but even without donning her helmet, the suit was comfortably cool now.
Mark piloted the pod high above the ship under construction, following its long axis. Tei’Shima watched it passing slowly below them. It was a huge achievement to be sure, but the pod fascinated her almost as much. It was transparent, and made her feel as if she were outside. Or rather, it seemed to be transparent. It hadn’t been that way when they boarded; its cylindrical shape had gleamed white under the harsh pod bay lights. The only transparent part was the domed glass over the cockpit area.
“A clever illusion isn’t it?” Zelda said.
“How do they do it?”
Zelda shrugged. “Magic.”
“What’s that?”
Shortcut smacked Zelda’s arm. “Don’t confuse her.”
Zelda grinned.
“I find it’s usually safest to ignore her when she’s like this,” Shortcut confided. “If anyone tries to tell you something is magic, it means they don’t have a clue how to answer you.”
Tei’Shima flicked her ears and added a nod. What a strange custom. “Do you understand it?”
“Sort of. Not the technical stuff, but nanotech is usually responsible for things that seem impossible. You know how ships can change colour when they want to hide?”
“They turn black.”
“That’s right. Turning black is a part of going into stealth. Nanocoat is clever like that. It reacts to events like incoming fire, but it can be programmed to do other stuff too.”
“Like I said,” Zelda said. “Magic.”
Incursion: Merkiaari Wars Book 5 Page 25