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Bresheu smiled back at me from the mirror. He caught my eyes in the glass and leaned into my ear, “Ishmael, there is an old saying that the clothes make the man. Is this the man you wish to be?”

I broke the gaze and examined myself once more before looking back in his eyes. “I don’t know, Bresheu. I need to think and we don’t have much time.”

“You are a wise man, Ishmael,” he said and slipped the coat from my shoulders. A girl took it and disappeared. Bresheu slipped my own jacket back onto me and gave it his little tugs.

“May I suggest that you think upon this during your voyage, Ishmael?” Bresheu said. He slipped a business chip out of a sleeve and inscribed a single letter B on the case. “When you get to Dunsany, present this chip at the establishment of Henri Roubaille. If by the time you get there you know who you are, then Henri will be able to fit you.”

“Merci, Bresheu,” I told him. “My apologies for taking up your valuable time.”

He shook his head. “But why else am I here? Please do come and see me the next time your travels bring you to St. Cloud.” He offered his hand and a warm smile in parting.

I took the hand and gave my own smile in return. “I’ll be sure to visit you sooner next time,” I told him.

Just then, the warning pings sounded to let the shoppers know that the flea market was closing. I saw Brill still standing by the mirror and we joined the stream of people leaving the flea market.

“Why didn’t you get it?” she asked. “It was exceptional. You looked good enough to eat,” she said in a tone that took me off guard.

I chuckled. “I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right. I’m not that showy.”

“I can appreciate that,” she said. “But, still it was
very
yummy.”

Concerned with where this conversation was heading. I suggested we go find some food.

Chapter 4

ST. CLOUD ORBITAL
2352-FEBRUARY-19

End of day shoppers crowded all the restaurants that catered to the flea market and did not offer the best choices, so Brill and I went down a couple of levels. We found a seafood restaurant that specialized in local St. Cloud fish that looked good. A sign in the window proclaimed, “The fish you eat today, slept in Starvey Bay last night.”

Brill and I both laughed. “Is that just a little too much information?” I asked her.

“Yeah, it’s a little creepy, but I guess it’s better than the alternative,” she agreed.

The hostess was good. She took only one double take at Brill’s height and then seated us at a very pleasant table close to the kitchen but not in the main traffic pattern. Unlike a lot of the orbital restaurants, this one did not have every square meter jammed with tables, which made it feel open. The walls were adorned in lifesize digital murals of various seascapes—probably from St. Cloud itself. All in all, it was a very tasteful display in spite of the rather tacky commentary on the fate of our soon-to-be dinners.

“Thanks, Brill,” I told her when the drink orders were placed and we had settled in.

“For what?” she asked.

“Well, I was feeling a little—displaced—that’s not the right phrase, but something like that.”

“Displaced?” she prompted.

“Yeah. When you found me, I’d just finished moving and felt a bit lost. There wasn’t anybody in deck berthing when I left and nobody in engineering when I got there. I felt like—I don’t know—suddenly disconnected somehow. Does that make sense?”

“Oh yeah, I can see that.” Our drinks arrived—a nice bottle of white wine from a Dunsany vineyard—and interrupted our conversation with the rigmarole of uncorking and tasting. The wine was smooth, dry, and had a nutty aftertaste. “It’s funny how you get attached to a bunk like that. I know when I moved out of engineering and into chief’s quarters I almost cried. It felt like I was leaving home.” She smiled wistfully.

“Well, anyway when you came in, and asked me to come out with you that meant a lot. So, thanks,” I told her awkwardly.

The server returned to take our orders and I picked a grilled abo-iba steak and Brill went for the munta fillet. The abo-iba is a large, deep water fish—a fast swimmer and very streamlined. The flesh is dark and has a texture that is more fibrous than flaky. Munta is sort of a cross between salmon and sea bass. The restaurant began to fill up slowly around us as the evening crowds began filtering in.

“So? Why didn’t you get that jacket?” Brill asked after a small pause. “You didn’t even ask how much it cost.”

I shrugged. “It was tempting. Back on Gugara there was a black leather jacket with a beautiful silk lining and silver buckles that I passed by. I didn’t buy that one because it cost more than I had and it weighed three kilos. But I’ve kind of regretted that decision every time I’ve put on this thing,” I said, indicating my coat.

“So, aren’t you afraid you’re going to regret not buying this one?”

“A bit, but Bresheu put his finger on it.”

She arched her eyebrow in inquiry. “I was too far away to hear what he said.”

“He told me clothes make the man and then asked if my reflection was the man I wanted to be.”

“And you didn’t want to be that man?” she asked.

“It wasn’t that. The problem was that I just didn’t know. There was a certain attraction, of course. It was a spectacular piece.”

“I have to give you credit. You know quality when you see it.”

“Thanks, but the point is that I never really thought seriously about what I wanted to do, let alone who I wanted to be. When Bresheu said that, it was the first time I’d even considered that I might have a choice in the matter.”

She nodded sympathetically.

“So, yeah, I may regret not buying the coat, but it just felt like I needed to think about that idea of who I want to be before I commit to being the man who wore that coat.” I snorted. “I’m sorry. I must sound like a loon,” I said, suddenly self-conscious.

Brill shook her head. “Not at all, Ish. You sound like a guy who’s getting it together. No need to apologize for that.”

The food arrived and we paid attention to it for a few ticks. My fish was excellent—grilled to perfection and seasoned simply with salt and cracked green peppercorn. It came on a bed of sweet sticky-rice with steamed brocofleur on the side. The wine matched the meal perfectly.

I broke the silence by saying, “So, what about you?”

Brill appeared startled. “What about me?”

“Where are you from? How’d you get to the
Lois?
” I asked.

She took a sip of wine and a bite of fish. “You mean like, ‘What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?’” she asked with a giggle.

“Sorta. Why is it that a highly trained and talented individual like yourself is working as a spacer?” I asked. “Seriously. You’ve got a master’s degree in environmental sciences, right?”

“Good memory,” she commented. “What do you think I should be doing instead?”

“I dunno. It’s just that I kind of wound up in space as a last resort. You must have had plenty of other options.”

She sipped her wine and glanced around the room as if considering how much to tell me. I waited her out. Finally, she seemed to make a decision and put her glass back on the table. “You saw how people reacted earlier,” she said softly. “I’ve been tall since I was ten. High school was hell. The university was only marginally better. I graduated with a degree in biology and then just went on to grad school. I dunno, maybe I was hiding, but I didn’t feel ready to venture out in the world yet. Anyway, while I was there I learned about closed ecologies…like ships and stations. I got interested in it. I got my first quarter share about six or seven stanyers ago—on the mess deck like you did.”

“Why mess deck? Couldn’t you have gone directly into environmental?”

She shook her head with a little shrug. “It was the first open berth I could get. I used that to get my foot in the door and then took the spec three test for environmental.”

“So you jumped the engineering ratings?” I prompted.

She nodded. “With my background, the spec three test was pretty easy. I never did have to learn about engine oil and propulsion systems.”

I figured she left out a lot, but I did not press. “Have you always been on the
Lois?
”

“Mercy, no!” She laughed. “The
Lois
is my third ship. I’ve been with her for about four stanyers. Before that I was on the
William Hedley
—a thirty-kiloton ore hauler that regularly makes the run from here to Diurnia. I started on the
Soyokaze
. She was a fast packet that made the run of Confederation systems carrying VIPs and light cargo. I made my rating there, but they did not have an open spec three slot. The
Hedley
did so I took that and got some experience under my belt.” She stopped for a moment, staring at some distant, unseen point. “When the berth opened on the
Lois
, I was ready for a change, so I moved over here as spec three and worked up to spec one by skipping again.”

“That master’s degree came in handy,” I commented.

“Mr. Kelley is always after me to go into the officer corps. With a degree already, it’s relatively easy. They have a special program at the merchant academy for people with experience and degrees.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Well, I’d have to be a general engineering officer. Spec one is as high as I can go and stay in environmental. I like what I do and moving up, just for the sake of being an officer, isn’t something I’m interested in.”

“I can see that. But don’t you feel like—I don’t know—like you’ve maxed out?”

“Never. There’s always something new to learn. Recently I heard about this screwy idea to mix used algae matrix and sludge.” Her eyes danced over the rim of her glass as she took a sip.

We finished eating and the waiter cleared our dishes away. I had a cup of coffee for dessert, but Brill ordered a decadent looking chocolate something. While sipping reflectively, I remembered my bag with the sculptures in it. The heron was right on top, wrapped in the bit of folded cloth and secured with a red string. I reached down to get it.

“I hope you don’t mind…” I started to say as I pulled it out. When I looked across the table, I found Brill holding out her hand as well. She also held a small object wrapped in a bit of folded cloth and secured with a red string.

“Welcome to the section, Ish,” she said offering the present to me. When she saw what I had brought up in my hand we both laughed. “Oh, that’s too funny!” she said.

“I was going to say, I hope you don’t mind that I went back and got you a figure, but it seems that I wasn’t the only one that took a detour on the way to the head.”

We traded bundles and I waited for her to open hers first. “They were so spectacular, I couldn’t resist,” she said. “I was looking for something small that wouldn’t mass a lot.”

“I’m touched,” I told her, weighing it in my hand and trying to think what it might be.

She pulled the string and carefully unrolled the cloth revealing the heron. “I thought so,” she said, wrapping her long fingers around it and holding it to her chest. “It was gone when I went back. You already had it, didn’t you?”

“Yup. I have no idea what you picked for me, though. I don’t remember any that stood out in particular.” I cast my mind back trying to think of all the figures I saw, but there were so many of them.

“Actually, it wasn’t on the table,” she said. “When I went back, the old man pulled it out of a box and handed it to me. It was weird, but it was perfect so…”

“It’s not a whale, is it?” I asked.

“Open it and see.”

I pulled the string and unwrapped it. A perfectly formed dolphin lay in the folds of cloth. The dark purple shell of its heart gleamed in the light of the restaurant. I stroked the grain with the tip of a finger and felt the smooth surface slide almost sensuously over my skin.

“Wow.” Was all I could get out of my mouth.

“Do you like it?”

I nodded and looked at her. “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say. I’m…flabbergasted.”

She carefully re-wrapped her heron, tying the string securely before slipping into the inside pocket of her jacket. “How strange we both went back to the same booth.” She laughed. “But you didn’t need to do that, Ishmael.”

“Well, I really wanted to. You’ve gone out of your way to make me feel at home in the section and helped me so much when I was studying for my engineman rating. When I saw that heron in your hand, I knew it belonged to you. I was really surprised when you put it back.”

Brill gave her head a little shake. “I don’t usually go in for small bits of this and that, but this—” She patted the pocket. “Is something very different, and I’ll treasure it. Thank you. I think that’s the first time anybody has ever given me a gift for hiring them.”

I re-wrapped my dolphin and tucked it safely into my jacket just as the waiter came back with the tab. It felt odd, but good, to be paying. I was shocked at the amount—forty creds—but then I remembered how much Pip and I had made with our trading. I added a generous tip, and we headed back to the ship.

When we got back, I automatically went to my old locker in deck berthing and I was surprised to find it empty. I chuckled and headed to engineering. “I wonder how often I’ll do that,” I said to myself.