Authors: David Welch
“Never is,” Rex replied.
“And you want it done by tomorrow,” the doctor asked.
“I have a hot tip of a world in need of the cargo I’m carrying; every day that passes gives somebody else a chance to beat me to it and get rich,” Rex explained.
Manuel chortled, saying, “How compassionate of you to take
any
time off for your crew.”
“Well, as you can see, she’s not much use to me like this. She sits and stares all day long, won’t do a thing unless you order her to,” said Rex, trying not to let the truth of the issue out.
Manuel nodded, staring inquisitively at Second.
“There could be psychological issues—” the doctor began.
“We’ll deal with them. We’re a very close-knit bunch,” Rex asserted.
“I’ll bet,” Manuel replied, clearly not convinced. “You want it done by tomorrow, I’ll need one hundred sixty bits, gold.”
Rex sighed, running numbers in his head. That would drain most of his expense account, which didn’t matter all that much because he was running for home anyway. Then he cursed himself for giving pause over a sack-full of gold when he was putting the entire crew in danger just by coming here. Who knew when his pursuers would pick up the trail?
He reached for his pack, sitting next to the chair. From it he withdrew a large sack, which clinked with coins as he removed it. He dumped the contents onto the desk, the falling gold making one hell of a racket.
Manuel did not react like most men. He gave the gold a cursory glance and returned his eyes to Rex.
“That’s only half,” he said simply.
“You’ll get the rest when you’re done,” Rex replied.
“I hope so,” the doctor spoke. “Or I will not release her to you.”
“You’ll get it,” Rex said, getting to his feet.
“Then we’ll get her started,” Manuel replied.
Rex turned to Second.
“Go with this man, do as he says,” he spoke.
Second nodded simply and got to her feet. Rex turned back to the doctor.
“How long until I can get her?” he asked.
“Ten o’clock tomorrow,” the doctor replied. “Come then,
with
my gold, and she’ll be ready.”
* * *
A blast of hot air hit Lucius square in the face as he pulled the trigger. The patchsteel gun, this particular model at least, vented the heat from its melting chamber straight back into the face of whoever was using it. His face dripped sweat profusely.
The damn gun was heavy enough to need a tripod, but didn’t come with one. So he used his body to brace the four-foot cylinder over each hole, hence the repeated bursts of heated air.
He moved to the next hole, about a foot across, scorched down to the structural steel of the main hull. The burn marks left could only have been made by a pulsed blast of accelerated particles, so the frigate must have landed this shot. He retrieved a cartridge from a box of thirty he had purchased and slapped the foot-long tube into the gun.
He really had no idea why they called it patch
steel
. It wasn’t steel. Each cartridge was 90 percent composite resin, a carbon mix nearly as strong as steel, but not as resistant to blunt force. The other 10 percent, which formed sandwich layers between the carbon, was a non-Newtonian liquid that hardened when force was applied. It was only a temporary solution though, not nearly as strong as the original armor it replaced. At some point Rex would have to get the plates around the damaged regions removed and rebuilt.
If he ever gets back to the Commonwealth
, Lucius thought darkly.
He fired the gun and moved to the next hole. It was the last. He reloaded and fired the gun, then stepped back to watch the resin spread through the hollow and solidify. Its excess pushed about an inch past the top of the hole, spilling over a bit. Lucius shrugged at the sight, figuring a little extra protection never hurt anybody.
“Hey, Lu!” a familiar voice cried.
He moved to the edge of the ship, standing just above its rear auto-turret. Eighty feet below was the small form of Chakrika, carrying a sack full of stuff. He waved.
“Where’s Quintus?” she yelled.
He pointed behind him and shouted, “He’s enjoying the view!”
True enough, Quintus sat in his makeshift crib, next to the observation blister. The blister was open. It led to a ladder that extended down into the main hallway, just before the common room. From his perch, Quintus, if his eyes were focusing yet, had a magnificent view of Nea Sofia. Lucius moved over to him, stopping to take in the vista once again. Domes sprouted from roofs, reminding him of a field of mushrooms. Rocky, orange-red mountains loomed above the city, their rusty façade broken by patches of green scrub. Thin lines of forest clung to nearby mountain valleys, along what must have been creeks or small rivers.
He smiled, picked up Quintus, and made his way down the ladder. Chakrika had already boarded. She dropped her sack and moved to take the boy from him.
“You’re lucky I wasn’t here,” she said, smiling nonetheless as she turned her attention to the little one. “Taking a baby on the roof. That’s not safe now, is it?”
Lucius smiled and then went to retrieve the crib. When they got Quintus settled again in the common room, they began to unpack. It was a cramped fit in the small kitchen, but Lucius had the distinct feeling that Chakrika didn’t mind the proximity. He sure didn’t.
“I got something for you,” she said.
“Oh? What’s that?”
She handed him the bible.
“This strange lady in a black robe inside one of those Christian churches said that this book can forgive your sins,” Chakrika explained. “Says you can be a new man. I figured, you know…”
“That it could lift my past from me?” he said.
“Maybe, you know. If not, you’re no worse off,” she said.
He nodded, uneasy at the thought. How did you erase a lifetime of evil, even if done in ignorance? All the same, he was thankful for her concern and her innocence. He turned the book in his hand. It was a hefty read. If forgiveness didn’t wait inside, he could always use it as a weapon.
“Holy Bible,” he said, staring at the cover. “Does that title mean anything to you?”
She shook her head.
“Well, perhaps we can puzzle this tome out together,” he said, flipping through the tissue-thin pages. They seemed to go on and on.
When he glanced back up, Chakrika’s expression had changed. Her mouth still smiled, but her eyes sat lifeless, staring toward the ground.
“Something wrong? If you don’t want—” Lucius began.
“No, no, it’s not you. It’s just…well, I don’t really believe…”
“In God?” Lucius spoke.
She nodded, saying, “My people used to think the tiger had a celestial spirit and protected us. That’s why we look like we do. But…after what happened to me…I-I can’t…”
“It’s OK,” he said, rubbing her arm. “It was only a suggestion.”
“I just figured with you talking about the ‘Divine Order’ to Rex…” she said, still not meeting his eyes.
“The ‘Divine Order,’” he said with a laugh. “Probably as much foolishness as everything else my people believed.”
“Ex-people,” she said, the smile growing as she met his gaze. “We’re going to be Terrans, remember?”
“Well you surely will be,” Lucius spoke.
“That’s why I’ve been telling you to come up with a fake back-story,” Rex spoke, entering the room from the port rear corridor.
“Is Second all right?” Chakrika asked.
“Doctor says she’ll be ready tomorrow,” Rex spoke. “Don’t know who exactly she’ll
be
tomorrow, but I guess that’s the point of this whole crazy trip.”
“So we’ll be here overnight?” Lucius asked.
“Yes sir,” Rex said, stopping to make faces at Quintus.
“Then can I ask you a favor?” Lucius spoke.
“Uh…depends on what it is,” Rex replied.
“Can you watch Quintus for a few hours tonight?”
“Got a hot date?” Rex said with a vicious smile.
Lucius flushed, turning back to Chakrika.
“Don’t cook tonight,” he said with a wink.
“What are you up to?” she said.
“Trust me on this,” he said and kissed her cheek. “I gotta go return the patch gun.”
He moved from the room, heading toward the cargo bay. Butterflies rushed through his stomach.
“Computer,” he spoke, “Connect me with that restaurant we found earlier…”
* * *
“Where did you find this?” Chakrika asked, motioning to the chaise lounge. Lucius lay atop it, and she lay atop him, though their clothes remained on. They stretched out on top of the ship. A city full of light lay before them, and a sky filled with stars sprawled overhead.
Lucius finished swallowing a stuffed grape leaf and then said, “Rex had it in the cargo bay.”
“You’re so lucky he didn’t have two,” she said lustily.
“Hey,” he said playfully,” I offered it to you politely…”
“And have the man who bought this dinner sitting on the hard steel? Ridiculous.”
She turned over, coming face to face with Lucius. His handsome face was relaxed. She enjoyed seeing that. Stern faces had always struck her as inhuman. She’d seen it too many times on the faces of her tormentors. Associating Lucius with those people seemed wrong, even knowing what she did about his past.
“What are you thinking?” Lucius asked as she gazed.
Did she tell him the truth? Was that how this worked? She’d become so good at playing the fantasy for clients that she wasn’t sure what to do. Did people expect truth in actual relationships?
“I’m thinking that I want more champagne,” she spoke.
She sat up, poured herself a glass that nearly emptied the bottle and stretched back against him, facing the stars.
“Which one do you think is Earth?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “You really want to see it, don’t you?”
“It’s an old dream,” she replied. “When I was a girl, they’d show movies of our people’s ‘great journey’ through the stars to Maratha. But they never said anything about Earth, just that they were being oppressed and had to leave. I always wanted to know more. Even when I was on Igbo, I never heard more than whispers of it. I didn’t even know what it looked like until Rex showed me.”
“Well, when you become a Terran, you should go,” Lucius said.
She finished her glass, a nice buzz spreading through her chest. She placed it down and then spun around again. She rested her chin on Lucius’s sternum, smiling up at him.
“Come with me,” she said.
“I would, but I don’t know—”
“They’ll let you in, I know it,” she said. “After the loyalty you’ve shown Rex? You’ll get in.”
“If I get in—”
“
When
you get in,” she corrected.
“I will go to Earth with you,” he said, bending down to kiss the top of her head. “And anywhere else you want to go.”
“Why Lord Baliol, I do believe that you’re making promises to me,” she said, trying her best to emulate his accent.
“Lord Baliol is my mother’s father. I am only Lucius,” he said. “And I
am
making promises.”
She turned her head, settling it in the crook of his shoulder. A strange contentment settled over her, unlike anything she’d felt before. Her eyes fluttered and closed, Lucius’s hand stroking lightly up and down her back.
Rex found them like that the next morning.
* * *
Rex managed, with his free hand, to grab the last piece of chicken from his plate. It was covered in some sort of cucumber sauce and doused in spices. He got it to his mouth without dripping anything on Quintus, who watched anxiously.
Lucius had gone to some effort to arrange his soiree with Chakrika. He’d bought dinner from a local restaurant, getting Rex something, since his cook would not be doing much cooking. He’d even gotten Chakrika to fill a bottle for the squirming little man on his lap.
“OK, OK,” Rex said after swallowing. “Now it’s your turn.”
He shifted the baby and fed the bottle to him. The boy latched on and sucked vigorously, making little contented noises as he went. Rex stroked his hair without thinking.
“You’re a lot quieter than my sister’s kid, but I guess she’s at least five by now. She used to scream like a banshee any time I went over.”
Quintus continued feeding.
“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Rex said with a laugh. “Computer, show me Nancy Yazdani.”
His ex-fiancé’s face filled the screen. She had olive skin, jet-black hair that fell to her shoulders, and liquid brown eyes. He’d been intoxicated by those eyes on more than one occasion.
“This is Nancy,” he said, shifting Quintus to see. “If you see her, spit up on her shirt.”
He sighed, then spoke, “Computer, show me Second.”
His individuality-impaired crew-member appeared. Tan skin, platinum blond hair, enticing eyes…a person
designed
to attract. Especially if that thing about pheromone secretion was true. Though her hair always struck him as odd. He’d only ever seen blond hair, or red hair, on people with pale skin. She kind of reminded him of a teenager, during that phase when they colored their hair and got tattoos to ‘rebel.’
Was that what he would get when she returned? A teenager? What mental age would Second be? She clearly had the intelligence of an adult, but how would her will fit into this? Rex didn’t know. Were all the stages and stupidities of young people tied to their physical development? Or did a human have to experience them, even if in an adult form, before moving through them?
Whatever happened, he bet that a lot of visits to the psychologist would be in her future.
“
A call is incoming
,” the computer announced.
“From the doctor?”
“
Yes
.”
“Put him on,” Rex spoke.
“Mr. Vahl, are you there?” Manuel Tzimikes asked.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Your crewmember is through surgery. Everything went well.”
“How is she?” Rex asked, anxiety forming a ball in his stomach.
“We have her sedated. We’ll wake her tomorrow, at six in the morning, if you wish to be there. I want to see how she is when conscious before you leave,” the doctor spoke.
“I’ll be there,” Rex replied.
They said good-bye, and the call ended. Rex turned back to Quintus, who stared at Second’s floating image as he fed.