by C B Williams
Genji cocked his head at her. “We didn’t think it necessary since you two will be taking shifts.”
Aiko went very still. She fisted her hands. “Put the chair back, Genji,” she said slowly.
Genji blinked. “But why? There was only one on the Stardust.”
“The Valiant is a modular ship,” Grale said hotly. “You can’t compare it to the Stardust. And that’s not the issue here. The issues are,” he counted on his fingers, “first you moved the Navigation Bridge without consulting us, and second, you took out the other pilot’s chair—again, without consulting us. And third, why are you constantly moving modules? Leave them alone. The ship is fine the way it is.”
“It was lopsided.”
“Lopsided?” Grale slammed his palms on the table. “Lopsided? You’re moving it all around because it didn’t look pretty enough for you? We’re in space! Who cares whether it’s lopsided! It’s going to fly right just fine.”
“Eloch wasn’t happy with it,” Wade said quietly.
Wren straightened. “Eloch? What? When was this?”
“Three days ago,” Wade said, “Eloch came to us and asked us to make the ship more symmetrical. He wanted it ovoid.”
Wren sighed and ran a hand down her coilmats. “And is it ovoid now?”
Spider nodded. “It is.”
“And can we stop moving modules around?” she asked quietly.
Spider shot a glance at Genji. “There’s one more move.”
Grale groaned.
“And what would that be?” Wren asked.
“The galley,” said Genji. “It’s too close to the med and science labs. As we travel, we will be capturing and studying various organisms. We don’t want our food supply to accidentally come in contact with a foreign contaminant.”
Aiko glanced at Grale. “He makes a point.”
Grale nodded, “But if the Galley is moved, then all our sleeping modules will need to be relocated too. Mine will, anyway. I’d die of starvation before I could find the galley again. This ship is a monster, even without the modules we sold off.”
Genji looked over at Wade. “We hadn’t considered that.”
“What, Grale dying of starvation?” Aiko quipped.
Genji frowned.
Mink giggled.
Aiko leaned over to Grale. “I’d still make them put back the other pilot chair, Cowboy, even if you did die of starvation,” she told him.
“That’s a relief. You’re a real peach, Kitten,” Grale said.
“What hadn’t you considered, Genj?” Wren asked.
“It is much more convenient to have the sleeping modules close to the galley.”
“Let’s take a vote,” Wren said after taking a sip from her mug. “Who agrees that it’s a wise decision to separate the galley from the labs?”
All hands raised.
“And who wants their sleeping modules near the galley?”
Again, all hands raised.
“Okay then. Committee, make this final Module Migration and be done with it. No more after that,” Wren said.
“But—” Genji began.
Wren raised her hand. “Not another module move after you move the galley and rearrange the sleepers, Genji. That’s final.”
“And put the pilot chair back,” Grale said, glancing at Aiko.
“Definitely,” she said. “And never, ever do anything to the Navigation Bridge without first consulting us.” She sat back and crossed her arms. “Ever.”
“And you might want to thank Grale, Genj and Spider, for the equipment he worked so hard to acquire for you,” Wren said.
“Of course,” Spider said. “Thank you, Grale.”
“Yes,” Genji said. “Thank you.”
“I want to thank you too,” Kalea chimed in. “I’m going to be learning how to use it.”
“I’ll toss in my gratitude,” said Wade. “I’ll be using it.”
“As will I,” Mink said. “You worked hard, Grale, and it’s appreciated.
Wren smiled when she saw Grale’s deep flush of pleasure. “Meeting’s adjourned then. Put that pilot chair back first thing you do, Genji.” She stood. “I’ll be with Eloch in the Solar Farm.”
Wren passed a hand across the door panel, which slid open to reveal the midsection of the Valiant—the Solar Farm, a vast array of greenhouses named for their ability to capture and store the energy of any passing star to provide light and energy to grow enough food to service some 15,000 souls.
Since there were only nine people going on their mission, Mink suggested they off-load some of the greenhouses and use a smaller module for the ship’s middle area. But Eloch insisted they leave that inner space alone.
Little Sister, never far from Wren’s side, slipped past her in search of Eloch. Wren followed, allowing the panel door to quietly slide shut behind her as she paused to get her bearings before following Little Sister.
At first glance, Eloch’s domain was a warren of plant life. But closer scrutiny revealed a convenient web of pathways much like a spider’s web. The paths crisscrossed from a central hub to all points of the ship, allowing everyone to take shortcuts through Eloch’s domain.
Eloch and his Solar Farm. It was here where he unleashed the creative force gifted to him by the planets he championed, and the Solar Farm had become his private domain, where he spent most of his free time.
Ahead, Little Sister let out an excited woof.
Seconds later Eloch joined her, matching his long strides to her shorter ones.
“Hey there,” she said.
He shot her a grin. “I was inspecting the growing things and felt you nearby.”
Wren nodded, relieved to find him focused and alert. Alert enough to sense she’d just been thinking about him and decide to join her. When he was present, they were that attuned with each other. She laced her fingers with his.
“You missed all the drama with the crew,” she said.
“I knew you could handle it easily.” He squeezed her hand, then turned to face her. “I have some drama of my own to share.”
She scanned his face. “That bad?”
He nodded. “One of the Sisters in Vela Kentaurus has died.”
Wren gasped. “We need to get out there, Eloch!”
“We will, but we need to wait a few more days. The Lady Talamh visited me,” he explained. “She has a gift for us, a Seer who will accompany us.”
“A Seer? What’s a Seer?”
“One who dreams the future. One who gazes beyond normal reality.”
Wren quirked an eyebrow. “You sound like you’re quoting someone.”
Enoch smiled, taking her hand. “I was. The Lady.”
“So you really don’t know what this Seer is, either.”
He shook his head. “I have no idea. But she will be coming with us, so we should make a room for her.”
Wren stopped with a groan. “Which means the Valiant is going to undergo another change,” she cried in mock dismay.
Eloch chuckled and pulled her to him to rumple the top of her head, sending her coilmats swinging. “I’m afraid so. But as soon as our Seer arrives, we depart.”
She gave his waist a quick squeeze and stood back to look up at him. “Walk back with me?” She whistled for Little Sister.
Eloch nodded and took her hand, lacing their fingers.
“So it’s happening. We’re actually leaving,” Wren said.
“Should be very soon now,” Eloch agreed. “Time to tell the crew.”
“Yeah. I’m going to meet Mouse in about an hour down dirtside. I’ll let her know.” She grew thoughtful. “Now I know we’re leaving, I’m feeling greedy for her company.”
“You know you could remain here,” Eloch said tentatively.
She pulled her hand from his grasp and turned to look up at him. “Why would you even suggest that?” She punched his arm. Hard. “As if I would ever think of leaving you, Eloch.”
He smiled and pulled her to him. “That’s good because
I would miss you.” He paused and rested his chin on her head, then buried his nose in her hair and breathed deeply. “I need you to keep me here, keep me present.”
She nodded and nuzzled his chest. “I know, Eloch,” she said softly.
“And I need you because I love you and don’t want to be apart from you.”
“I love you too, Eloch. Always. Now, time to let me go. If I don’t hurry, I’ll be late to meet Mouse.”
He kissed the top of her head before he released her.
Wren walked beside Mouse along the wide, chalky path leading to Hern, the village closest to the walled City of Talamh. It had been a year since the old government toppled and Max took over leadership of the city dwellers, those who had settled from Spur.
Negotiations between the indigenous people—Talamh’s people—and the settlers from Spur were going well under Max’s skillful guidance. The Lady, the Spirit of the planet, approved of Max and instructed Her people to trust his goodwill.
At first, distrust was prevalent, but curiosity on both sides began to erode the skepticism and Max was encouraged.
“There’s no longer a guard at the city’s wall,” Wren commented when they paused and looked back at where they started. “And the city is looking much prettier now you’ve taken over its design.” She glanced at her friend. “Who knew you had all this talent? You’re amazing.”
Mouse smiled, transforming her face from ordinary to extraordinary. “It’s what happens when you’re not fixated on keeping yourself and others alive.”
“Still have nightmares?” Wren asked when she saw a shadow skim across Mouse’s expression.
Mouse nodded. “I think I always will.”
“Yeah,” Wren agreed. “I know I will too.”
They shared a glance, one filled with a sorrowful wisdom.
“We did what we needed to do,” Wren said.
“And we’d do it again.”
“Yes.”
The shadows of two winged creatures swept over them, and Mouse looked up. “That just isn’t natural,” she commented as she watched Genji and Kalea, in their Nuri forms, spiraling above them on a wind current. “I just can’t get used to them being able to transform from people into those creatures.”
“Yet they do,” said Wren, her eyes twinkling. She followed the pair’s flight. “Beautiful,” she murmured.
“They do it a lot, too,” Mouse said and shivered.
Wren sighed. “They know we’re leaving soon. I don’t envy them being cooped up in a ship for who knows how long. Sure, they’ll be able to shift and fly in the Solar Farm. Eloch made sure of that. But it certainly won’t be the same as this.” She swept her hand in a gesture, which included the sky and the vast meadow stretching to the horizon.
“All this natural space, it is beautiful, isn’t it?” Mouse said. “Talamh was wise to keep the Spur colonizers behind a wall. We would have ruined it.”
Wren nudged her friend. “But no more. With you and Max in charge, we ignorant Spurians will learn how to play well with others.”
They began to walk across the meadow toward a leafy grove surrounded by chalk hills.
“Spurians?”
“My nickname for us cuz we came from Spur.”
Mouse snorted. “SubCitians would be more like it.”
Wren grinned and called to Little Sister, who was straying away, captivated by the strange scents. The enormous sniffer came bounding closer, her sleek, dark fur catching the sunlight.
Mouse smiled. “Never thought there’d come a day when I would actually love sniffers.” She reached out her hand, and Little Sister bumped it with her huge head, nudging Mouse until she stroked behind a silky ear. “Remember Little Brother?”
“Your sniffer back on Spur, right? The one who has stolen Ingot’s heart?”
“That’s the one,” Mouse said with a grin as she watched Little Sister go trotting off to explore again. “I’m having him shipped here. I can’t wait.”
“Mouse?”
Mouse glanced at Wren. “What’s wrong?”
Wren shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. I have a favor to ask, is all.”
“Okay, what’s the favor?”
“Could you keep Little Sister here with you on Talamh?” The words came out in a rush.
Mouse slowed to a stop so she could study her friend. “You sure?”
Wren watched the sniffer playfully batting at a flying insect. “No. I love that beastie. I’d love to take her along, but it’s just not fair to her.” She turned to Mouse. “Who knows how long we’ll be gone or whether we’ll ever set foot on a planet again? It’s just too much to ask of Little Sister. Genji and Kalea know what they’re getting into. But Little Sister? She’d follow Eloch and me anywhere, but she would be so unhappy, Mouse. I can’t do it to her.”
“But you’re her pack. She loves you two.”
“You’re part of her pack, Mouse. She knows you and Max. And Little Brother will be arriving soon.”
Mouse’s face lit up with a smile. “Little Brother would sure love a playmate. But two sniffers...” her voice trailed off.
“Two very well-behaved sniffers.”
“Two very well-behaved and extremely large sniffers living with Max and me in our getting-smaller-by-the-minute dwelling.” Mouse flashed her beautiful smile. “Sure, why not?”
“Don’t you think you should ask Max?”
“No need. Max will say yes.”
“You’ve got him that twisted around your little finger?”
Mouse snorted. “Not at all. But I know him, and he’ll say yes because you asked, Wren. We’d both do anything for you.”
Wren reached out and touched Mouse’s hand before she started walking again. “Thank you.”
They walked together in silence.
“So, tell me about this building we’re going to see,” Wren said.
“In a sec. Wren, is everything okay?” They had stopped again, and Mouse faced Wren. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
Wren looked skyward, her mouth trembling, then dropped her gaze to her friend. “The enormity of it all, I suppose,” she replied. “I’m leaving you and Flick, my two best friends in the universe, and traveling light-years—light-years!—away. So far, in fact, we’re talking about taking turns in the Cryo beds so we don’t get too old. Do you know what that means? None of us are immortal, here.” She put her hands over her heart in a protective gesture. “It hurts, Mouse. Hurts.”
Mouse sighed and cleared her throat. “I know what it means. These last few days may be the last time we’ll see each other. So yeah,” she agreed. “It hurts. Especially—” she broke off.
“Especially what, Mouse?”
Mouse hesitated. “Can this be in The Narrows?” she asked, referring to their long-ago code word for secrecy.
“Of course.”
“I haven’t told Max yet, but in a few months I’m going to be making him a daddy.”
Wren stilled. “A little Mouse or a little Max,” she murmured, then laughed and grabbed Mouse in a hug so tight the other woman squeaked. “I love this! This is the best news! And with vids, I’ll be able to watch Little MaxMouse grow up and all the little MaxMouses after that.” With another laugh, a little more shaky, she released her friend and steadied her. “Why haven’t you told Max?”
Mouse shrugged, her expression softening. “I just wanted to keep it to myself for a span. Get used to the idea. I’m planning to tell him soon, though. I’ve gone to a med lab, and the baby and I, we’re both healthy.”
“Mommy Mouse. I’m so happy for you,” Wren said softly.
“But what? You didn’t have to say it, I heard it in your voice.”
“Just makes the hurt worse.”
Mouse sighed. “I know. Feeling it too.” She paused, “However, on the bright side, I’ve got Max and my architecture. And don’t forget, Flick can keep us in touch through his connection with Spur. And you’ve got Eloch and the others. We’re going to be fine. Just fine,” she add
ed for emphasis.
She punched her friend. “And when did I become the one who does the cheering up? There’s something more, isn’t there, Wren?”
Wren glanced around. “Are we still in The Narrows?” she asked quietly.
“Of course we are.”
“’Kay, then. I’ve never mentioned this, and I wouldn’t have mentioned it to you, but you’ve, per usual, called my bluff.” She ran a hand down her auburn coilmats. “I’m worried about Eloch, Mouse.”
“Eloch! Why? He’s amazing. And he’s invulnerable. I mean, he saved us from an exploding building...just appeared when you needed him. And he loves you so much, Wren.”
“I know. I know all that. But those damn planets broke him down and put him back together again, gave him all that knack...” She paused. “He’s doubting his own humanity, Mouse. And he goes away someplace. In his head. His eyes get all distant, and he’s just...gone. A couple of times I noticed him start to fade a bit, like you’ve seen Spur do. Like I’ve seen all of them do. Scares the crap out of me. It’s like he has to be so focused to stay who he is. And he’s not ready to talk about it yet. That’s what he tells me when I ask him. The most he’ll say is he needs me to keep him present.”
Wren shook her head. “And then he’ll ask things of the crew without consulting me. This last time, I first heard of it in this morning’s meeting. He had Genji and rest of them moving modules around because the ship was ‘lopsided’ and he wanted it ‘ovoid.’ That’s not like Eloch...or the Eloch I knew, anyway. It’s costly to move modules, Mouse. You have to schedule the service cranes, and then make sure everything is sealed up so we don’t die when they disconnect and reconnect the parts. That’s…I just don’t know what to do. I—”
“Stop, Wren. Stop right there.” Mouse shook her head and glared at her friend. “Forget about Eloch for a moment. Where did you go? Where did KinLord Wren go? This”—she waved her hand at Wren like she was trying to erase her—“Wren person in front of me is not the Wren I know. Not at all. This is your and Eloch’s mission. These planets may have sent Eloch, rearranged Eloch, but Spur sent you. Your planet sent you, Wren, because She knows what you’re capable of. She knows you’ve got this.”