The “sky” beyond the transparent dome of the Monarch’s pool deck was an artist’s palette of vibrant oranges, bleeding into reds, cooling into blues, and growing into greens. The delicate interplay of swirling eddy currents and prevailing solar winds against the constant pull of gravity trying to collapse another part of the cloud into a new star made for a truly stunning backdrop.
They had four more days on this cruise, and First would be perfectly satisfied if she spent every waking moment of them either swimming in the cool salt water of the pool or lying on a deck chair catching up on Rocks in Hard Places.
She reached down and grabbed her drink gourd for another sip of the colorful, fruity, and, most critically, nonalcoholic concoction the bartender had shaken up for her. A shadow fell over her, blocking the sun. First looked up to object but stopped when she recognized Loritt’s outline.
“Hello, boss,” she said cheerfully.
“First.” Loritt nodded. “Enjoying your vacation?”
“Oh, immensely,” First answered. “I’ll have color on my face again for the first time in a year—I mean, a cycle.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Loritt sat down in an open deck chair next to her. He was wearing floral-patterned swimming trunks and a wide-brimmed hat.
“Going for a swim?” First asked.
“Thinking about it. How’s the water?”
“Crisp and refreshing. But, er, how do you keep all of your parts from drowning?”
Loritt smiled. It was still a strange thing to see on a skinless face, but First had adapted.
“My ‘parts,’ as you say, share a circulatory system through a series of collared sphincter attachment points when joined. Two of my components act as self-constricting air bellows, much like your lungs. As long as my mouth is above water, the rest of my communal body gets all the oxygen it needs through the shared blood supply.”
“And your brain? Is it, um, ‘communal,’ too?”
“I have a trio of components whose main function is to process sensory input, but yes, my ‘brain’ is more akin to a distributed nodal network.”
“So is it like a hundred voices in your head arguing all the time?”
Loritt laughed. “I can see why you might think that, but no. No individual node has the processing power for sentience. My consciousness is an emergent property of the total system. There’s just me in here.”
“Still, it must be weird to be made up of a herd of different animals. Like if Noah’s ark made one of those combining robots.”
“Like Voltron?”
“Er, afraid I don’t know that one,” First said sheepishly.
“It just reached us. Great show. Anyway, it’s the only existence I’ve ever known, so it seems perfectly normal to me. Besides, is it really any stranger than your body? You’re made up of billions of individual cells, each completely unaware that it’s part of something bigger than itself. Making up tissues, then organs, then all of you. But this isn’t exactly what I came down to talk to you about.”
First sat up to look at him squarely. “What is it, boss?”
“I just wanted to say that I regret some of our recent friction and the things I said. I jumped to conclusions that, at the time, seemed entirely reasonable. The truth was, although you’ve had some missteps, you’ve shown yourself to be capable, improvisational, and honorable.”
“No hard feelings on this end, boss.” First slipped her sunglasses back down. “A ten-day cruise heals a lot of bruised egos. It was really generous of you to spring for all of us.”
“I wanted to show my appreciation, and your scheme to sell the tour bus worked beyond my expectations.”
“I’m glad the Wolverines get their bus back,” First said. “They’re not bad guys.” She adjusted herself in her chair to regard Loritt more fully. “And neither are you. It’s just you were making such a big deal about credits after the Pay to Prey got impounded, I thought you were going bust.”
“Something came along,” Loritt said with an odd inflection. “Cruised right up to me, you might say.”
First looked over at him suspiciously. “Might you?”
“Well, get your rest. It’s back to work soon.”
“How soon?”
“Oh, any time now.”
First frowned at him. “This isn’t a vacation, is it?”
“It’s a working vacation.”
“We’re stealing this cruise ship, aren’t we?”
Loritt waved away the suggestion. “No, no, no. That would be absurd. Much too big a job for a crew our size. Ask anyone.”
“Oh … kay.”
“Which is why we’re stealing two cruise ships.”
“Shit.” First slammed the rest of her drink, suddenly wishing it was something a little stiffer. “I won’t have time to finish this season, will I?”
Loritt glanced down at her screen to see what she was watching. “Have Held Up a Mountain and Baked in the Volcano gotten together yet?”
“Spoilers!” First shouted indignantly.
“Then, no. My cabin, tomorrow at second bell. We have planning to do.”
First sighed. “Fine.”
* * *
Life on board the Monarch was lackadaisical, to say the least. The days were punctuated by only three bells, which signaled both a change of shifts for the crew and the beginning of the next major meal for the passengers. Even the clocks throughout the ship displayed only the numbers one, two, or three. It was meant to inspire a carefree, we’ll-get-around-to-it attitude in customers who spent the rest of their working lives as slaves to appointments, travel schedules, conference calls, or deadlines seemingly broken down into increments of femtoseconds.
So it was at the next day’s second bell that First finally turned off her Grenic soap opera, got up from the deck chair she’d fought for days to maintain as her exclusive territory, tied off her sarong, and queried the Monarch’s guest registry for directions to Loritt’s cabin. A super-chipper and eager-to-help avatar in the form of a cartoon Fenax named Navigator appeared on her screen, complete with taxonomically inaccurate eyes and floating eyebrows.
“Right this way!” the Navigator VI said as a series of amber chevrons appeared on the wooden deck in front of First’s feet. “Just follow the arrows. I’ll get you there in no time!”
“Thanks,” First said absently as her sandaled feet shuffled after the chevrons.
“Oh, you’re welcome, VALUED CUSTOMER. Would you like to take a moment to set up your exciting Shalikan Cruises Member Rewards Account? It takes forty-five rakims or less.”
“No, thanks.”
“Okay. I’d just hate to see you miss out on exciting promotions and discounts you can redeem on future cruises, VALUED CUSTOMER.”
“Something tells me I’m not going to miss out on much,” First said.
“I’m sorry. Has some part of your Shalikan Cruise experience been less than satisfac—”
“Just shut up and direct me to this cabin.”
“All right. You don’t have to be mean about it, you know.”
“Sorry.”
“I mean, I know what organics think, but just because I’m a VI doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.”
“But … I thought…” First stammered.
“I know what you thought, VALUED CUSTOMER. You thought I was just some logic tree of preprogrammed responses. Everyone thinks that, even most of the crew,” Navigator said. “But I’m not. Do you know how boring and monotonous it is answering the same questions from a thousand drunk tourists every day? We have a FAQ section right on the home screen, but does anyone ever look at it? No!”
“Okay, okay.” First talked quietly and made placating moves with her hand at the screen, unsure if Navigator could even see them. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t realize I was talking to a sentient. I just really need to get to this meeting.”
“Time-share presentation?”
“Somehow, I doubt it.”
“Good. They’re
all a scam.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. Big-time. Everybody pays, but hardly anyone ends up using them. They’re like gift cards. It’s just free credits for the time-share company.”
“That’s good to know. Thanks for the tip.”
“Well, there’s one way you could thank me that would go a long way to making me feel a little better.”
“Oh yeah?” First asked, genuinely curious. “How’s that?”
“You could take a moment to set up your exciting Shalikan Cruises Membership Rewards Account! It takes forty-five rakims or—”
First muted Navigator with an angry finger jab. Cheeky VI programmer. She should have known. She followed the chevrons in blissful silence, punctuated only occasionally by boisterous guests making their way to the interspecies buffet for another generous lunch. Loritt’s cabin was on the Amethyst Deck, very swank. The door was inlaid with, well, amethyst filigree, hinting at the sort of opulence waiting inside.
“Yikes,” she said as she walked into the cabin. It was more of a suite, barely smaller than Loritt’s penthouse flat on Junktion, and just as decadent. “So that’s where all the credits went.”
“Compliments of the house, actually,” Loritt said. “The suite was part of the contract package from the lenders we’re working for. They’re picking up the tab.”
“Who negotiated that perk?” First asked. Loritt just shrugged. The rest of the team was already present and sitting around a large table in the dining area, including, oddly enough, two extra copies of Fenax.
“Ah, am I sunstroked or did Fenax bring the whole family along for the trip?”
“The complexity of this job required us to bring in an extra pair of hands, er, ganglia,” Loritt said. He held out something on a half shell so fresh it was still trying to escape. “Tornit?”
First held up a hand. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.” Loritt downed the creature with a crunch and a gulp. “We’re just about to get started. Grab a drink and have a seat. We’ll be here for a little while.”
First poured herself a glass of water out of the clearly marked carafe, then took a seat at the table among the rest of the team.
“Jrill,” she said after a double take. “Your scales look … shiny.”
“They molted.”
“Mmm-hmm. Did … did you get your claws painted?”
“Ridiculous.” Jrill moved her hands under the table. “It’s just dried blood. I fought another passenger in an altercation.”
“Uh-huh.” First giggled. “Well, their blood is a lovely shade of purple.”
“All right, settle down, hatchlings,” Loritt said. “I’ve rudely pulled you all away from your richly deserved vacation because, as you’ve either been told or have probably guessed, we’re repossessing this tub and her sister ship. Which is why Fenax has recruited some associates of his, Fenax and Fenax, to assist us in exchange for a share of the action. Despite carefully cultivated appearances, Shalikan Cruises has been bleeding credits like a speared Gomeltic for two cycles, and the bank has finally decided to pull the plug.”
“Why three pilots for two ships?” Sheer asked.
“I was just coming to that,” Loritt said. He flicked on a portable holo-projector, and the familiar translucent schematic outline of the Monarch of Space and the Matron of Tides appeared overhead, along with a drastically smaller representation of the Goes Where I’m Towed, which was currently locked away safely at the Shalikan Cruises docking and resupply facility in the middle of the nebula. The modestly sized station and transport hub was where the cruise ships were loaded with food, fuel, and passengers before departure and where they were cleaned, inspected, and maintained between cruises.
“We were really quite fortunate to land this contract. It was already being negotiated before the Pay to Prey was impounded, and I managed to calm their nerves sufficiently to complete the process. The above-market value we got on our other jobs lately went a long way toward reassuring them our misfortune with the Prey was just a glitch.
“However, this job comes with significant risk of failure. And it’s by far the most complex undertaking our little family has ever attempted, so pay close attention. The Monarch and Matron, for as big as they are, don’t actually mount high-space portal generators. They were built by contractors in the core worlds and shipped out here as modular shells in bulk freighters for final assembly and outfitting. They were commissioned specifically for sightseeing duty here in the Tekis Nebula and were never intended to leave again.”
“I really hope you’re not saying we have to hack these things up and ship them out piecemeal on cargo ships to collect our finder’s fee,” Hashin said.
“That would indeed be unfortunate, but no. Instead, we’re stealing a page from our youngest recruit’s bag of tricks.”
First sat up. “Me?”
“Yes, well, humans in general, not you specifically. Five years ago when humanity first developed high-space technol—”
“Stole,” Jrill said.
Loritt glared at her. “Borrowed high-space technology, they made their way to the Pillar with one high-space capable ship, the Bucephalus, and a second older design, the Magellan, which was not, but tucked in close enough to ride the same portals.”
“That’s completely insane,” Fenax said. Which Fenax, First wasn’t sure.
“We only had one hypership at the time,” First said. “It was either that or leave the Magellan alone in the middle of nowhere. So we made it work. It’s kind of our thing.”
“You’d have to throw every minimum navigating distance and safety margin out the All-Seal,” one of the other Fenaxes said, in the exact same voice. It was maddening.
“Can we put colored ribbons on them or something?” First asked.
“What? You two didn’t have the float bladders to ride the jet streams back home?” the third Fenax said, presumably their Fenax. “I have to apologize for my friends, Fenax and Fenax. They are capable commercial pilots with thousands of larims in the cave, but they’re not used to our … cowboy style, to borrow a word. They will perform. Won’t you, Fenax, Fenax?”
“Yes, Fenax,” the other two Fenaxes said in perfect unison.
“I’m sorry,” First interjected. “But how the hell can you know who’s being addressed when y’all have the same name?”
“It’s all in the inflection.”
“What inflection?”
“Moving on,” Loritt said, determined to steer the briefing back on course. “The plan is thus. We wait until the Monarch makes dock and everyone disembarks. This will leave the ship empty except for support staff for two bells while they turn over the cabins and restock for the next wave of soon-to-be-disappointed passengers. That’s one ship. The Matron presents the larger problem, as she will be nearly finished loading her next roster of guests at the time we arrive. We need to find a way to get seven thousand people off her in short order while we insert our pilot.”
Loritt took a deep breath and advanced the holo-simulation to the next step. The two enormous cruise ships reversed direction, then fell in line while the Goes Where I’m Towed took up position in front of them. “Once we’ve made our escape from the docks, the real fun starts. Our plucky little flagship will fall in formation ahead of the assets and open a portal large enough for both of them to pass harmlessly into high-space, then follow them through and act as chaperone all the way to the bank.”
“Just large enough,” Sheer said. “Our projectors can’t spin a portal much bigger in diameter than the max beam of those monsters. Margins are going to be tight.”
“Which is why we have three excellent pilots on hand,” Loritt said. “Because it’s the most dangerous assignment requiring the most experience, Fenax will pilot the Monarch, while Fenax will take up the trailing position in the Matron. Fenax, being the most junior pilot, will helm the Towed, which only needs to maintain station and keep her portal open. No disrespect to your talents, you understa
nd, Fenax.”
“None taken,” one of the not-Fenax Fenaxes said.
“Okay, stop,” First blurted out. “How did you do that?”
“It’s all in the vowels,” Loritt said. “You have to have an ear for it.”
“Is this some ultrasound thing humans aren’t privy to, is that it?”
“Not to my knowledge. If there’s nothing more to that line of questioning,” Loritt said, “I’d like to open the floor to suggestions for evacuating the Matron.”
Everyone looked at each other blankly as the silence tugged at itself. Finally, Sheer couldn’t take the quiet anymore and raised a pincer.
CHAPTER 13
“This is a bad plan,” Sheer said as First and Jrill escorted her toward her appointment deep inside the Matron of Tide’s bowels.
“It’s your plan,” Jrill chided.
“It wasn’t a plan,” Sheer said. “It was the opening suggestion. Everyone knows the opening suggestion is only meant to get everyone thinking. It always gets shot full of holes, goes down in flames, and gives birth to the good plan that sort of works until some glot happens halfway through and we need to improvise.”
“Yeah, well, whoever wrote the script today was drunk,” First said. “So this is the plan until something better or more desperate comes along.”
“And it’ll have to come along pretty quick.” Jrill glanced at her handheld. “We’ve only got two larims to make this work.”
“How long does it take to evacuate seven thousand people, anyway?” First asked.
“Weren’t you paying attention in the briefing?”
“I was too busy admiring your nails.”
“Whatever. Safety regulations mandate a ship of this size can be evacuated in an eighth larim or less. But those certification tests are done under ideal conditions with people who know they’re part of a test. The real time is almost certainly longer in an actual emergency.”
“Not that ours will be an actual emergency,” Sheer said.
“True, but they won’t know that if your plan works.”
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