"That," said Jackson, uncharacteristically subdued, "is why I'm rated Survey but don't do it."
Morris looked quizzically at them.
"Jumpsickness," said Lace, "Be glad it doesn't affect you." She shifted position, grimaced and moved more slowly.
"I always heard it was psychological," said Harkin, "Blather!"
"It can be worse on smaller ships," said Keyson soothingly, "That's why we don't build them much smaller than this. Active-link is worse."
"Gaah," said Jackson, "I don't even want to think about that."
As Keyson and Jackson spoke Morris drew rations for himself and Keyson. As Morris began eating his he felt a heavy gaze. When he looked up he traced it to Lace. Under it he slowed, then finally pushed his plate aside. Jackson half-chuckled and pushed it back and Lace widened her glare to include them both.
A sharp, derisive chuckle finally broke the silence.
"Brilliant, Jena," said Delroy, "Next time scratch too."
Lace flushed a deep red and turned her back to the table.
"Best finish it, Moe," said Jackson, "Thermal investigation requires plenty of calories."
***
Morris worked quickly and efficiently to dissemble and service the thrust transducer and regulator. When the two of them arrived at engineering Keyson left him to update her logs, which took all of three minutes. When she finished she checked Morris' work then started working opposite him.
"Do you want to talk," she asked casually.
"About?"
"Whatever is bothering you. Lunch."
He looked up, surprised, then back down again.
"You were cheerful and a little open before we left. Now you're back to Seigneur Super-Tech. QED."
Morris tried to think of how to speak his thoughts but she beat him to it.
"Ahh... Jena Lace. Thermal drooly and open to... People." Lydia measured his quickly-covered but still-visible reaction as if calibrating a gauge. "Listen. I happen to know that rough links give her the cramps really bad. She wanted to make small talk but smelling your food almost made her sick."
She examined him again.
"Jared was trying to smooth things over. I know he irritates you but underneath the rough he's a decent enough guy. As to Delroy, I think she stays permanently torqued and extra nausea just made it worse."
Morris stopped working to look at her. "How... Why do you think..."
After his speech trailed off she spoke. "Because you, my dear Tech, are not nearly as inscrutable as you try to be."
Morris wilted at this.
"Oh... blather! You're not that obvious, either. I was observing carefully."
She went back to work and after a moment he did as well.
"So what should I do," he finally asked.
"What? A question?" Keyson smiled. "Just relax and enjoy yourself. I know," here she tugged on a stuck connector, "it's not easy for you but it's what you have to do. Ummf!" The connector popped off and sprayed them both with hydraulic gel. "Burnit!" She wiped her face and hands and handed the cloth to Morris. "When someone says something non-technical you stop, consider it, analyze it, carefully formulate your response and deliver it. Don't. Just take it as said and go with it."
Morris considered this, digested it and went back to work.
"So," said Keyson, "would you like to wipe that hydrogel off my soft, naked body?"
The drive cowling in Morris' hands clanged when it hit the floor, bounced past Keyson and rolled to a stop against the primary transducer. He felt the blood leave his face, then return excessively. Keyson looked at him innocently and repeated the question.
"Uhh... um..."
"Correct response, " she said, "'I'll bring the towels.' Now you say it."
Morris finally managed to mumble approximately what she said.
"Good. We'll work on that." She picked up the cowling and handed it back. "You didn't really think I was serious, now, did you?" She batted her eyes and smiled sweetly. "Oh my. I do believe I am totally flattered but I prefer wine and cheese before the... main course."
"T-t-too b-bad."
This elicited a laugh.
"Good!" She winked. "We'll work on that, too."
They worked until time to clean up for dinner. Keyson peppered Morris with half a dozen more verbal jabs, two of them unbelievably lewd, until he at last managed not to flinch when she did.
"Why are you doing this," he asked before they left.
She didn't answer for a long time. "I... Someone needs to, Morris. Call it a tangible apology for me yelling at you."
Not the reason, knew Morris, but he kept his silence.
***
As Morris suspected Lace showed up to escort him to dinner. By concentrating hard on what Keyson said he managed to relax and not jump when she took his arm. During the meal he concentrated not only on the conversation but the participants. When he noticed Keyson observing him she winked and grinned.
After dinner the conversation turned to musical themes from the Imperium. It seemed all of the civilians plus Kody had considerable interest in the Imperium backed by varying levels of expertise.
"But regardless of whether expression reflected society or created and shaped it," expounded Lace, "the correlation is undeniable."
"Sophistication," countered Harkin, "does not imply evolution. In fact it can be the opposite. Back me on this, Morris. Function dictates form but when the methodology for accomplishing the function improves the form necessarily changes."
"To a degree," said Morris. Interested in this subject he managed to ignore Lace pressed against him on one side and Keyson on the other. "Mental inertia as a factor cannot be discounted. I tend to agree with Sig... Jena on her point, though. The Imperium grew decadent. It started, inevitably, and grew exponentially until the Collapse. Its decadence even extended into the Interim. That's a recorded fact and it's also evident in their musical and artistic themes.
"Technologically the Imperium was very advanced. Enough so to provide for its citizens, certainly, but a disproportionate amount of resources were concentrated on the elite classes. The Praetors, Senators and Legates had basically unlimited access to whatever they wanted. The vast majority only had their doles and entitlements."
"But the Imperium did provide those doles," said Keyson, "Uniformly and universally. That kept the lower classes fed, entertained and healthy. That left even them with time to explore the arts. Those themes, which really are decadent, are ubiquitous throughout the period."
"Exactly," exclaimed Lace, "The last few centuries before the Interim it seemed the artists and artisans went out of their way to embellish even the most trivial things. Even machinery that would never be seen once activated. It was like they were trying to outdo each other with needless extravagance."
Noting the opinion mostly against him, Harkin conceded with a grin. "Slib, then. I suppose I can agree with you. With some reservations."
"Wise move, spiker," said Jackson, "I was ready to jump in."
Harkin rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"I have an Imperium relic," said Lace.
Harkin and Jackson stopped talking and looked at her.
"No blather," she said.
Lace rose, left and returned a few minutes later with a box. She opened it, extracted a bundle of padding and carefully began unwrapping. When she finished she held a smaller highly-polished metal box. Morris leaned in and looked close. He couldn't identify the exact alloy but had no trouble with the workmanship and the patterns etched into the surface.
Besides the etched detail every edge of the small box sported an intricate knotwork of wires carefully woven and joined to the box itself. The top edges held six embedded gemstones, each of them clouded and tinted delicately with another color.
"This is also a fine example of decadence," said Lace smugly.
When she opened the lid it revealed two thick sides supporting the crystals. Morris thought he saw a momentary sparkle.
"You see," she
said, indicating the more-complex patterns on the inside, "This would normally be covered in natural silk or something even more expensive. You couldn't even see the craftsmanship."
"Holocrystals," exclaimed Morris, startling Lace and Harkin. "I thought that looked familiar. These are the predecessors of datacubes. They didn't quite have the tech to layer them up to 3.15-D but they did a lot with 3.035 and 3.07."
"He means fractal data content," said Keyson.
When Morris looked up he saw various expressions of puzzlement with the exception of Keyson and Delroy. He looked back down at the box.
"You really should get this restored," he said absently, flipping on his holospecs and looking even closer.
"I really wish I could," said Lace, retrieving the box, "That was a gift. I have an uncle who collects them."
"You can," said Morris, "It wouldn't even be hard to find a Tech who'd do a good job."
Silence still. Uncomfortable now, Morris reviewed what he said. Once again a brittle, acid chuckle sounded from Delroy's holocad.
"One of you tell him," she said, "He obviously doesn't have a clue."
Lace reached out and patted Morris' hand. "I'm not rich, hon, and Tech service isn't cheap. If I could afford the Guild it would be for something more important than this."
"Oh," said Morris, "I'm sorry."
"Flames! Don't be." Lace quarter-scowled at him. "I was just stating a fact, hon. It's not you."
That did nothing to relieve Morris' discomfort. Then... Inspiration! He smiled at Lace.
"I'll do it. As soon as we depart Spigot. If you want me to."
Lace considered it then shook her head.
"I can't ask you to do that, Morris," she said, "No. It's just a jewelry box and I don't want you wasting your time on it."
"But I have time. In fact," he looked at the others, "if any of you have things I'll restore them too."
"That's nice of you, Moe," said Jackson, "Truth pure and simple!"
Jackson's grin left Morris no doubt the big man meant it. Amazingly, everyone but Delroy had an Imperium item. Most of them just needed cleaning, which Morris did carefully and lovingly. He removed every speck of dust, grit and tarnish, polished carefully and finished with a coat of clear, inert sealant.
"Wow," said Keyson, admiring a Senator's bracer now shiny bright, "I was always afraid to do this."
Morris carefully packed and returned the two items he hadn't touched: Lace's box and a small figure belonging to Jackson, who thought it only a statue.
"Oh no," said Morris, pointing to several delicate seams, "See the articulation here? It actually moves, probably in response to sound or light. I could just clean the surface now but after Spigot I'll be able to do the internals too."
"Whyfor," asked Jackson, "After the detailing you did inside the bioreactor this can't be that complicated."
"It's not," said Morris, "but Imperium tech doesn't conform to League standards. I'll need some specialized tools."
When the group broke up for the evening Lace walked Morris all the way to his cabin.
"That was a very generous offer, Morris," she said, "I just wanted you to know that."
"It's my pleasure," he said.
"Well thank you, then," she said. Then she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.
Only by virtue of looking at the setting did Morris know he set his shower much hotter than normal. He didn't feel a second of it.
***
"Hi." Keyson smiled extra brightly when Morris appeared at engineering the next morning.
"You did very well last night," she said, sipping her chog.
Morris shrugged. "It really isn't that hard to clean and restore artifacts. Only the most durable ones survived."
Keyson moved in, reached out, stroked his hair back then grabbed it and gave it a sharp tug.
"That isn't what I meant and you know it."
Morris managed to relax. That he could surprised him.
"You joined the conversation without being dragged in, you handled Jared and you still managed to talk with two drooly vixes cuddled up against you."
That did it! Morris blushed and dropped his gaze.
"I also noticed you didn't leave alone."
Morris felt his face heat as his blush deepened. Keyson slid her hand down his arm and gripped it.
"Interesting. Tell me about it." She led him toward the engine array.
With his hands full of sublight inducer he managed to stammer through the walk to his room.
"That's fantastic," she said. Without warning she leaned over and kissed his cheek. Then, almost casually, she kissed the other one. "That's three you've survived now. Just remember, if you start shaking with your hands inside the engines they won't work when you finish."
Sensitive to Morris' state, Keyson kept her conversation light and professional for the rest of the morning. Midmorning she called a quick break.
"You're really getting better," she said, relaxing on the couch with chog. She lay back and propped her feet on the arm, across Morris.
"Hey. I'm not a footstool."
"No, but you make a good pillow."
"So fluff me."
She barked a short laugh at that. "Good one."
"So what do we do next?"
"Something in bed comes to mind..." She smiled and winked. "For truth, we've serviced just about everything that needs it. The thrusters will be down until we unlink and we're not touching the active L-drive components before then. Unless the Commander or passengers have something I'm on plus time."
"Oh." With no excuse to stay in engineering Morris felt a touch of disappointment.
"We could start on your stuff but I'm not certified for it."
Morris thought a moment. "It's not that different from drives. If you want I can certify you."
"Ooohh," drawled Keyson, "I think someone just wants me close by."
"No blather there," managed Morris, "C-cope with it."
She chuckled at this. "Fair enough, sirra. I don't suppose a small equipment cert would hurt my career."
***
Morris found Keyson an apt pupil. She rarely needed to be shown something more than once and for all the lack of theory she claimed she learned that quickly as well. Morris knew she'd have no trouble certifying.
For himself Morris found he could relax around her, even when the two of them worked very closely on something. At odd times she moved in close and put her arm around him or touched his arm or shoulder. At first it made him nervous but he soon overcame that and even enjoyed it. They finished a particularly tricky bit of work before dinner and ended up in Keyson's office.
"Flames," she said, "Working on that rover tied me in a knot."
"Must be a lover's knot."
"I'm serious, Morris. I want a backrub for that."
She wriggled out of the top part of her coverall. She wore a shirt under it, of course, but that did nothing for Morris' sudden nerves.
"Get used to it," she said over her shoulder, "'Cause if you're as good with muscles as you are machines I intend to make a habit of this."
"M-my hands... Dirty," he stammered.
"I'm washable. Just start at the neck. Feel the tension and work it out."
His hands shook as he touched her. She tilted her head and he felt some tension beneath his fingers. He applied a gentle pressure, then increased it and began moving his fingers back and forth. Then, when she made no objection he put his other hand on the other side and did the same. Keyson made occasional pleasure-sounds and affirmed that he did a fine job. When she declared herself un-sore she turned to him.
"That was outstanding," she said, "and after that trauma I'm sure you could use one too."
"Uhh..."
She grabbed the top fastener on his coverall. "Now I can do this or you can."
Fumbling, Morris unbuttoned his coverall. Keyson started at his neck, finding every tense knot in him and smoothing it away. When she finished he lay with his head pillowed on her lap, totally r
elaxed. She smelled of machinery and insulation but with a faint, subtle perfume beneath it.
"I'm enjoying this, six-sigmas," she said finally, "but if we don't start now we won't be clean for dinner."
Morris sat up, amazed at his reluctance to do so. Bare inches separated them when they both stood; with a will of their own his arms snaked around her.
"Now that's what I call real improvement," she said. Then she hugged back.
***
"That is totally wrong," exclaimed Morris indignantly, "None of the four Guilds, especially the Tech Guild, is political."
The conversation, politics, started just before dessert and escalated quickly.
"You're saying there is absolutely no politics within your Guild," challenged Lace.
"Some internal politics, of course," said Morris, "That's unavoidable with any group of people. But that has more to do with who gets what assignment and even that is based on seniority. The Guild itself is completely apolitical and we work hard to keep it that way."
Morris stated a truism! The Guilds refused to enter or endorse any planetary or systemic politics anywhere in the League or outside it.
"But the Guild is still an incredibly strong political force," countered Harkin, "Tell me, Morris, what specific technologies are you certified to work with? Don't be modest, just state the facts."
"Umm..."
"Wait," said Harkin, "What technologies are you not certified to handle?"
"LINC beacons," said Morris, "nuclear weapons and capital ship ordnance." He thought hard. "Just about anything associated with Intelligence but that's more security clearance than certification. That's about it."
Lace and Kody gasped at this.
"And are you typical of a Guild-certified Technician," asked Harkin.
"Yes. A lot of things do depend on clearance but any Tech is de facto as qualified as I am. In an emergency any Tech can stand in."
"'Will Do!'", said Harkin.
"That's our official motto," said Morris, "That's our official response when given an assignment. What about it?"
"Ignoring cost," said Harkin, "which is not relevant to my point, who exactly has access to your incredible range of skills?"
"Everyone," said Morris, countering one Guild motto with another, "'Universal access.' That is the founding principle of all the Guilds."
Again Morris spoke simple truth. Every League planet possessed at least one Guildhall and most more than one.
"Indeed," said Harkin, "and while individual Techs, or other Guild members, may have very strong political views they do not connect them in any way to their Guilds. Nor do those Guilds act on behalf of or against any political entity or group outside the bounds of a sanctioned and paid contract."
A Pattern of Details Page 5