by M J Gauntlet
The only word for Captain Ahosi’s bolt of cloth was stunning. The base color wasn’t a color at all, but the darkest black Zax had ever seen. It sucked up light like a sponge, but it didn’t end there. Within the black, seemed to be a galaxy of lights of all colors that swirled and moved with every ripple of the fabric. Against the black of the cloth, these lights glowed as though they were incandescent pinpoint stars. As the captain moved her hand across the material, each thread appeared to shift its color. There were ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’, as she stroked the fabric, creating a new light display with each pass of her hand.
After each crew woman had stroked and fondled their respective fabric, they all turned astonished looks at Zaxxion. For a moment no one spoke, then Captain Ahosi stepped forward.
“How…” she began, her voice rising two octaves in pitch, then she stopped and got her vocal cords under control. “How did you manage this? I happen to know that this fabric is almost sacred to the Krillians. No one has ever gotten them to part with one centimeter of this material at any price! They have been offered literal fortunes for just a square meter of this cloth, without any luck.”
Feeling rather sheepish, Zax hoped that the crew couldn’t tell that he was blushing furiously beneath his dark brown skin, as he remembered what the female Krillians said about his ‘brides’. Clearing his throat, he faced the crew and tried to explain.
“After we were able to repair the flaw in those eggs, Terjarak’takk asked me if there were some service or boon that I would like to ask of them. Remember?”
“Yeah…I remember now. That was when we are all leaving the egg and you took the tall Krillian aside,” Brax said.
“Well…I happened to remember a comment that Pilar made, when we first went aboard the colony vessel, something about how she would ‘kill’ to be able to get what the alien females were wearing. So…”
“So, you decided to break every diplomatic code in the book and ask for the unaskable, eh?” Captain Ahosi finished for him.
“Er…yeah. I figured that the worse that could happen would be that they would say no,” he said innocently. Ahosi rolled her eyes to the heavens and shook her head in disbelief. “Gods protect us from children and newbies. The ‘worse’ that could have happened was that they could have taken offense and banned our ship from all Krillian commerce,” she said, with exasperated concern.
“C’mon captain, you cannot hold it against him. He didn’t know he was potentially creating a cultural faux pas, besides it worked out great!” Pilar exclaimed, with a wide grin.
“I guess…if any of you want to, you could give it all back,” Zax said impishly. Each woman reflexively grasped their bundle of fabric and pulled it to their chests.
“You’d have to cut off my arm first!” Trina Idrija exclaimed with a laugh. This was followed by a chorus of hardy protests and laughing denials.
“So, this is what it comes down to…mutiny!” Ahosi said, with a laugh. Then she turned to Zax. “And you...” she said, pointing at Zax, “you have resorted to bribery, have you?! I knew from the moment I first saw you that you were up to no good…which makes you a perfect tradership spacer!”
There was a resounding chorus of laughing approval, which lasted a full two minutes before the captain called the meeting to order. “Before we wrap things up and shove off, there is the regular disbursement of eunits according to shareholdings.” The room got very quiet, as the business of the tradership was discoursed.
“First,” the captain began, “Because of the 30% discount the Windjammer has been accorded, this voyage has resulted in a 43% profit margin, which translates into a boost of 1700 eunits per share!” At this announcement, the room once again erupted in joyous shouts.
“Second,” Ahosi continued speaking over the excited whoops and cheers, “We have just come to an agreement with the Krillian colony ship that in exchange for the licensing of Zax’s formula for repairing fungus infected ovum, the Windjammer will receive an additional one- time licensing fee of three million eunits and an annual 2% of that amount as a licensing fee per colony!” At that last announcement there was a stunned silence, then a gigantic roar filled the room.
“Calm down, calm down everyone!” the captain demanded. “You must remember that this does not kick in until the next fiscal quarter and of that 2% licensing fee, half of it goes to provisional crewman Zaxxion Grayson here and rightfully so, since it is his process upon which the fee is garnered. But I digress…as it stands, the Windjammer is officially in the black and hopefully she will remain so far into the future. Each of you can check your wristcoms for your individual share payments, but I suggest you do that after we have cleared away for launch. Get to it people! We still have a tradership to run!”
As the crew noisily filed out of the mess hall, Captain Ahosi turned to Zax. “Young man, I realize that technically you are still part of the crew and no longer a passenger, but I would appreciate it if you would go back to your stateroom for the time being. There is currently no job for you to do aboard ship, and I suspect that you are a bit tired after all that has happened in the past few hours. Go to you bunk and get some rest, that’s an order!” Zax nodded to her because, to tell the truth, he was feeling the effects of the last few hours…he was exhausted.
“But before you go, I have two things to say: I apologize for not including you in the lunch negotiations for your egg mending process. The Krillians wanted to honor you at a formal meal. They consider dining almost as a ritual. It is an important time for them and where their species bonding takes place. I wasn’t sure that you were up to the task of ritually consuming some of the dishes they might have offered.” Zax thought back to the earthworms and soberly nodded his head.
“The other thing I wanted to tell you, is that I personally thank you for all you have done for this ship and a special thank you for that magnificent fabric and gifts you were able to give to me and the crew. Now…get that skid back down to the cargo bays toot sweet!” The last was said with a mockingly stern face.
Three days outbound from the colony ship, Zax found himself sitting at the mess hall table, along with the rest of the crew, instead of eating alone in his cabin. He was now rising at 0700 instead of his usual 0900 ship time and beginning the shipboard day at the same time as the crew, even though he had no duties assigned to him. The crew seemed to adjust themselves to his presence, to where they hardly noticed him amongst them at all. This morning found Zax sandwiched between Branda Idaho and Trina Idrija. He was forced to stare straight ahead at Pilar, as he tried hard not to look down either of their partially unzipped spacer jumpsuits. Both women were talking excitedly across the table, seemingly unaware of the amount of bare cleavage he was being subjected to. Zax felt relieved, when Windy informed everyone to report to their morning duty stations. Zax noticed that there was a certain air of anticipation that flowed through the ship and he knew why. They were coming up on the transition point of the star system. It was less than two hours away.
Zax didn’t know whether to be excited or anxious. Back on Bright, he had heard spacers talk about their first transition and what an exhilarating experience it was. There were also those tales of transitions that had gone badly; of ships found drifting in space, crews either dead or insane. Zax wanted to ask Pilar about those stories, but he didn’t want to seem like a frightened ‘ground hugger’ so he never asked. Now that the moment was quickly approaching, he wished he had.
“Zax, I suggest that you return to your quarters and prepare for transition. Since this will be your first aboard the Windjammer, I have prepared a very mild soporific and it is now in your fresher cabinet if you chose to use it.”
“Ok, Windy girl, I’m on my way to my stateroom, but I don’t think I will use the sedative. Because this is my first jump, I want to feel it without any mental blocks. But thank you for thinking of me. I appreciate it.”
“You are quite welcome Zaxxion Grayson. Since this is your first transition, might I suggest that you activate
your cabin imagers so that I might inspect your prejump preparations to ensure that they are accurate?”
“Ah…you want to keep tabs on me to make sure I don’t do something stupid, huh? Very well, I verbally authorize that for this one time. You can mother hen this newbie through his first transition.”
“The term ‘mother hen’ is not at all accurate. I just want to ensure that you adhere to the proper safety protocols for the safety of the ship and yourself. As for being a ‘newbie’, from what I have heard throughout the ship, you have accomplished things that some spacers have not done in their entire lifetimes. Now please hurry to your cabin so you will have time to secure any loose items and enter your protective webbing.”
“On my way, Windy,” he said, with a small smile. Over the past few days, the A.I. had been very solicitous as to his wellbeing. Reaching his stateroom, Zax looked around and began to stow away any loose items such as, data cubes or screen readers, that were lying about the room. The one item he was very careful with was the ‘gift’ his brood brothers had specifically bequeathed to him. Although the crew was intensely curious as to what was in the wooden case, they respected his privacy and had not pestered him about it.
In the privacy of his quarters, he had opened the ornate box and found himself stunned by what it contained…a coiled length of Krillian topknot feathers of remarkable beauty. After researching Windy’s database, he could only find an obscure reference of such a gift ever being given to a non-Krillian in the entire history of contact with the enigmatic aliens. It was rumored to have been given to the family of Cornell Abrams, the man who, at the cost of his own life, saved a damaged Krillian transport by singlehandedly fighting off a squad of human skimmer ships, after they ambushed and disabled the freighter. This one act caused the Krillians to re-evaluate their opinion of humankind and opened dialog and trade between the two species. For his brood brothers to have given him this endowment was an honor beyond measure and a very private affair.
After stowing away the box, Zax found himself idly fingering the oval lump beneath is left arm. He wondered whether it would be affected by the transitional jump. Too late to start wondering about that now! After double checking his room, Zax reached up and pulled down the harness and began to strap himself into its webbing. It must have taken longer than he thought, for just as he snapped the last seal into place, he heard the A.I. give him an alarm announcement:
“We have reached the transition point and are preparing for jump. All shipboard contragrav fields will be shut down in one minute, if you are resting and using one now, I suggest you move to another piece of furniture. You should experience a brief feeling of nausea, which will be accompanied by a strong sense of disorientation. Please do not be alarmed, the sensation will quickly pass. Since this is your first-time experiencing transition, Captain Ahosi strongly recommends that you remain in your harness a full ten minutes after transition to allow your body to adjust to the sensations. If you must leave the harness to either relieve your bladder or your stomach, it is suggested that afterwards you lay prone on the deactivated contragrav pallet or flat on the stateroom floor.”
Zax smiled at the delicate way the A.I. phrased the request. Everyone had heard the urban myths of how people had gone howling mad during their first transition. Double-checking his restraints, he felt the comfort field of the unit suddenly constrict, forcing him to remain where he was. Maybe those weren’t urban myths after all! I guess it’s best to take no chances, it wouldn’t do to have a mad man suddenly running around the ship. Zax thought, sagely.
“Transition in one minute. All items of significant mass have been accounted for and have been stored and secured.”
Looking around the room, his eyes fell upon a familiar item and with a small start, Zax realized that his pack was still out and lying next to the com unit. Unable to move, he hurriedly spoke to the A.I.
“Windy! My rucksack containing my tools has not been put away or secured!”
“Do not be concerned, Zax. I am aware of the situation. Your storage sack has enough significant mass to be unaffected by the transition.”
“Oh…ok,” he said, feeling greatly relieved.
“Transition in five seconds on my mark …five …four … three …two …one…MARK!
Zax’s stomach and mouth tried to trade places in his body, as his gut began to climb up his throat on the long journey to his lips. This sensation was quickly replaced by the conflicting feeling of simultaneously being in freefall and being compressed by extreme gravity. Just as it felt like the gravity was going to win, the sensation abruptly vanished. Zax heard sobbing gasps in the room and with a start, realized that it was his own ragged breathing he was hearing.
Tentatively, Zax attempted to raise hands towards his head and found that the restrictive field was gone.
“How do you feel Zax?”
“Just peachy, thank you. Just give me a moment to find my stomach, but thanks for asking.”
“Could you please tell me who you are and where you think you are?” queried the calm voice.
“Huh?” he replied, puzzled.
“I must ascertain if your memory or cognizant functioning has been affected by your first transition. Please answer the questions.”
“Oh…I understand. Want to make sure that I haven’t lost my mind, eh? Very well, my name is Zaxxion Grayson and I am aboard the tradership Windjammer, and you are Windy, the ship’s AI. We were outbound to the planet Plato.”
“Excellent, thank you. One correction: we are now inbounded to the planet Plato. Transition was successful.”
“Is that it? That’s the total test? I mean, couldn’t I still be unhinged?”
“No. Those that have gone insane due to transition are totally detached from reality and would be totally unable to answer those simple questions, therefore you…”
“Are quite sane,” Zax said, finishing her sentence. There was a pause in the A.I.’s monolog, then she resumed speaking.
“That is a matter of opinion.”
“Ha-ha…very droll, now if you could help me with something else?”
“Of course, Zax. How can I help you?”
“I was wondering if you could ask Chief Engineer Abrams if he has time to see me now. I have a strange item I want to show him and ask his opinion about it.”
“Just a moment and I will ask…” she said, then paused a few seconds. “Yes, it will be alright. Abrams says that he is about to go off shift in an hour, but you are welcome to come down. I trust you can find the engine room on your own or do I need to provide you with the lighted deck strips once you are in the corridors?” Zax realized, that he had indeed become a member of the crew because he knew exactly how to reach the engine room from his cabin. He wondered if he had just remained a ‘dirtsider’ passenger, if he would still find that the passageways were lighted by deck strips and ceiling panels?
“Zax, Pilar has just informed me that she would like to see you in your quarters at 0300 hours, ship time.” Zax rolled his eyes and wondered if Pilar was about to tell him that now that they were headed for Plato, their little tryst was over. Shrugging his shoulders, he decided to tackle that problem when it presented itself. Going to the stateroom closet, he took out his bag, removed the item he wanted to talk to Abrams about and placed it in his jacket.
Once in the passageway, he followed the corridor to the lift tube and when he entered it, he saw that the engineering deck indicator was already flashing, so he pressed it. When the door to the tube slid aside, Zax stepped out and a couple of meters in front of him was a massive sealed bulkhead door. Before he could press the lighted plate next to the portal, the thick door silently moved out towards him then slid to the side. Zax found himself standing face to face with an impatient looking Chief Engineer. Abrams was one of the largest men Zax had seen since Omar back on Bright. But unlike Omar, Abrams was not chubby or flabby, he looked like two and a half meters of solid muscle. He looked almost like a Bright Highlands cave bear, complete
with hairy arms and large black beard. Now he was looking irascibly at Zax, with his hands on his hips.
“Well don’t stand there letting engines cool, come inside so I can shut the damn hatch,” he grumbled.
Once Zax had entered through the hatch, the man mountain slapped a huge bear paw sized hand on the plate next to Zax’s head and cycled the massive door shut. Stepping back, he suddenly thrust out a huge mitt in a handshake gesture. Startled, Zax saw his hand disappear into a mound of flesh but was then amazed to find out that the giant had a gentle handshake.
“Hello Zax, I never got a chance to tell you, but it was a fine job you did there with those injectors! Fine job! I had given them up for lost and I’m pretty good at recovering equipment. A person must be good at salvage on a tradership. But your reconstructions were the best I’d ever seen!” Rather than being falsely modest, Zax opted instead to acknowledge the complement with a curt nod.
“Thank you, sir that is a top shelf machine shop you have. It has some of the best and latest equipment I have ever seen. Especially the calipers and the laser micrometers.”
“Oh ho…I see you know your way around a machine shop, eh? And none of that ‘sir’ crap for me, Zax. Save that for the military pukes. Just call me Abrams like everyone else does. It seems we have a few minutes before the captain calls upon for me to do the impossible again, would you like a quick tour?”
“Yes sir…I mean…yes Abrams. I would like that very much,” Zax replied enthusiastically.
With that, Abrams took Zax over to a deck-mounted console in front of two massive, heavily shielded devices. The one on the right was icosahedron in shape. Its surface was a series of small, interlinked pentagons. In the center of each pentagon rested a ruby colored crystalline jewel, linked to the console with a fiber optic conduit. As Zax watched, a series of light pulses flashed through each conduit in regular rhythmic pulses.