The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1) (6 page)

Eshel went to the engine room to complete his newest assignment. Eshel disliked the engine room, as it often reached temperatures that were too warm for him. When he arrived, the Engineering crew was undergoing engine maintenance, crowding the area with more people and causing the temperature to rise further. Discomfort set in as he felt the heat consume him. After working for a while, Eshel realized he could tolerate no more. But just as he decided to leave the area, his vision blurred and he became weak. Unable to walk, he knelt down.

“You alright?” said a flat, male voice. An officer, whose expression showed a mixture of hesitation and concern, knelt down as well, his unusually dark eyes studying him closely. Eshel recognized the face from the ship’s roster: Lieutenant Jebediah Snow.

“I am not,” Eshel replied, his voice faint. “I believe I am having difficulty adjusting to the temperature.”

“Middleton!” Snow shouted across the crowd. A man with a shaved scalp looked up upon hearing his name. “Toss me my canteen.” Snow caught the canteen that soared his way. “Drink this.”

Eshel drank, the cool water offering him some relief. When he was able to stand up, he realized people were staring at him. Middleton, the canteen-thrower, whispered something to another man.
 

“Leave the engine room and cool off,” Snow told him. “If you don’t feel better in a few minutes, go to sick bay. That’s an order.” He paused. “And tell Selway you’re better off working here during redeye shift. Few of us are here then.”

Eshel turned and left. Feeling recovered enough, Eshel decided against sick bay and the unpleasant prospect of encountering Dr. Vargas again. Instead, he went to Selway’s tiny, cramped office, where Selway stood at his equipment locker, his back to Eshel.
 

“Chief Selway… Sir. I request that I complete my maintenance detail in the engine room during the late hours, when there are few crewpersons on duty—”
 

Selway shook his head, still facing his locker. “We don’t change the maintenance schedule, Korvali.”

“It is too hot in the engine room when occupied by so many,” Eshel said. “Such temperatures are nearly intolerable for my physiology.”

Selway turned to face Eshel, his portly, round body bumping into the locker door. “Your physiology?” Selway scoffed in his gravelly voice, laughing his gravelly laugh. “Such excuses! Your physiology!”

“It is the truth,” Eshel replied, his tone bordering on a sneer.

“It is the truth,
what
?”
 

Eshel stared down at Selway. He repeated the sentence, adding the address that Selway so valued.
 

“And don’t forget it, Korvali,” Selway warned, wagging his finger at Eshel. “Next time, bring water. If you say anything more about it again, you’ll be cleaning toilets.” He slammed his locker door shut.
 

“You choose to disregard the truth,” Eshel said. “And I will clean toilets if it will free me of your stupidity.”
 

Selway’s face turned red, his jowls shaking. “You’re out of line, Private!” He ordered Eshel out of his office.
 

Just as Eshel arrived at his quarters, Ov’Raa contacted him. “Eshel,” said Ov’Raa’s high, melodious voice. “You are needed in sick bay immediately for examination! Do you remember where sick bay is?”

“Of course, Commander.” Selway had shown him a schematic of the entire ship. He knew exactly where to go.
 

Once at sick bay, Eshel felt a sense of dread at the sight of Dr. Vargas.
 

“Have a seat,” Vargas ordered.

Eshel sat on the medical bed. When Vargas reached up and touched his forehead, Eshel felt fury spread through him as he withdrew from the offending contact. “Do not touch me.”

Vargas’s face showed exasperation. “I have to examine you. Captain’s orders.”

“Then do so without touching me. Did you not learn the first time?”
 

“You’d better watch that mouth, kid,” Vargas threatened in a loud voice. “Touching people is part of my job. I don’t do it because I like it, believe me. Why does it bother you so damn much?”
 

“Why do you not have webbed hands?”

Vargas held up the scanner. “Shut your mouth and let me do my goddamn job. I won’t touch you, for Christ’s sake.”
 

Eshel did as he was told but refused to make eye contact as Vargas scanned him several times. When finished, Vargas said, “You’re fine. Get out of my sick bay.”
 

Yamamoto, having just finished teaching his intermediate self-defense course, received a meeting request from Ov’Raa.
We must speak about Eshe
l. Yamamoto smiled. He’d been expecting this. He changed into his uniform and made his way to Ov’Raa’s office.
 

Ov’Raa smiled with chagrin, clasping his thick hands together. “There’s been an… incident… between Eshel and Chief Selway.”

“Yes, I heard. Are you surprised?”

Ov’Raa twittered a little. “Perhaps not. Dr. Vargas reports that Eshel does indeed have true difficulty tolerating warm environmental conditions. Chief Selway has been informed of this. I issued Eshel a formal warning and explained that such disrespectful behavior is not tolerated. I suggested that Eshel offer apology to Chief Selway, and Eshel did so once I taught him what an apology was!” He paused. “However, Eshel still has difficulty addressing his superiors properly and with other social… niceties.”

Yamamoto nodded. “Dr. Vargas said Eshel was very impatient with him during the medical exam.”
 

“Is that so? Shall I call Eshel in again?”
 

Yamamoto shook his head dismissively. “The doctor knew to avoid touching him and still chose to. Make sure Eshel gets one of the cold-water canteens to keep with him at all times.” He paused. “Is he getting along with his bunkmates?”

“I’ve heard no complaints yet, Commander. However, I’ve had numerous complaints from others, particularly his superiors. Eshel has insulted his commanding officer, spoken insubordinately to many others, and can be very rude! Eshel does not seem to be integrating well and seems quite unhappy!” Ov’Raa clasped his hands tighter.
 

“This is the first time he’s interacted with those who are different from him, Niri. He will learn.”

“Many enlisted crewmembers have begun making jokes at Eshel’s expense. They call Eshel ‘Mutant.’ Eshel does not react, which seems only to anger them! I fear he may be harmed.” Ov’Raa’s skin flushed a dark bluish color, and then faded.
 

Yamamoto hadn’t seen Ov’Raa turn that dark in a long time. Ov’Raa disliked when crewmembers fought with one another, particularly if from different species. “Do not worry yourself, Niri. These problems should abate with time.” He paused. “I’d like one of your people to administer the Corps test battery to Eshel.”

“Yes, of course. Yes. What idea have you developed, Commander?”
 

“Humor me.”

Yamamoto sat down with Commander Ov’Raa. A minute later, Captain Ferguson joined them and Ov’Raa briefed the Captain on Eshel’s conduct.

“How did the test results turn out?” Yamamoto asked, before the Captain could respond.
 

“Eshel’s scores ranged from the ninety-fifth to the ninety-ninth percentile in most of the sciences,” Ov’Raa said. “Many of our science officers don’t score that high! Eshel also scored above the seventy-fifth percentile in many of the technical subjects, which is most impressive considering that Eshel comes from a technologically modest homeworld. There were large deficits in other areas… however, Eshel’s general intelligence scores were extremely high.”

Yamamoto gave Ferguson a slight smile.
 

The Captain leaned back in her chair. “So Eshel’s abilities are going to waste working in maintenance.”
 

“Perhaps so… ” Ov’Raa said.

“Why was he assigned there?” she demanded. “Just because he can’t work in genetics doesn’t mean he can’t be of some use to us.”

Ov’Raa briefly flushed a pale blue. “Many new crewpersons work in maintenance, Captain. It’s an excellent way to learn how the ship operates. Also, Eshel is a new enlistee, so it is most unfair to place Eshel in coveted positions. Eshel must earn such a privilege, as the other crew have.”
 

“Fine,” Ferguson relented. “But there must be a more appropriate choice for him.”

“Perhaps with a more challenging station, he’ll integrate better,” Yamamoto said. “In my experience, a soldier working too far below his ability is the most difficult to deal with.
 

“Where shall I place Eshel?” Ov’Raa said. “Let us avoid Engineering, given Eshel’s sensitivity to heat. One of the science labs, perhaps?”

“No,” Ferguson said. “Steele is already managing this genetics mess. I want someone I can trust looking over Eshel’s shoulder.”

“How about Weapons?” Yamamoto suggested.
 

Ferguson gave him an amused look. “You want to put a security risk in Weapons?”

“With Tom Kingston to look after him, yes.”

Ov’Raa looked uncomfortable. “Commander, I would reconsider such a choice. Tom can be quite—”

But Ferguson nodded. “Yes. Tom’s perfect. And we need to get Eshel integrated socially. Find someone to help him, someone he won’t offend.” She pushed her chair back and stood up.
 

After Ferguson left, Ov’Raa sat for a moment, until his face lit up. “When Eshel first came aboard, Dr. Vargas said Eshel enjoyed speaking with Lieutenant Finnegan!” His face fell. “But Lieutenant Finnegan is a geneticist, and not a good choice.”
 

Yamamoto shook his head. “As long as they avoid the topic of genetics, it should be fine. Yes, excellent idea, Niri. I will speak to Catherine about it.”
 

Eshel’s contactor chirped. The display showed Catherine Finnegan’s name and a message.
Are you free to eat third meal with me tonight?
 

His contactor offered him a yes or no.
Yes
.

Meet me at the mess. 1830
.
 

Despite arriving three minutes early, Eshel found that Catherine was waiting for him outside the mess. He felt relief at the sight of her, and the feeling surprised him. She smiled at him and they exchanged nods. Instead of her uniform, she wore garments he did not recognize.
 

Eshel followed Catherine through the line and retrieved the one option he was willing to eat, one his father had told him about: Derovian ornon and sea vegetables. As they headed to the dining area for enlisted crew, they chose two empty seats at the far end of a long table filled with people. Many turned to look at them as they sat.

“I see you like ornon,” Catherine commented as she sat down. She’d chosen the same dish as he.

“Yes. I find Derovian food palatable. I cannot digest your terrestrial animals.” He picked up his fork, awkwardly wrapping his hand around it.

“You aren’t used to using utensils.”

He looked down at his fork. “I am not.” Coran and Dorel warned him that they’d been severely chastised for not using utensils when they joined the Corps. He ignored their warning, seeing utensils as pointless, only to be chastised himself.
 

“Do you know why I requested we meet?”
 

“Yes,” he replied. “The XO asked you to.”

“He did. But I was hoping to talk to you anyway. I haven’t seen you since your arrival.”
 

“It is unfortunate we did not speak more at that time. We had much to discuss about our work, and now we cannot.”

She looked down, appearing angry. She tucked her long hair behind her ear.
 

Eshel was still struck by the strangeness of her hair—the length of it, and the color… unusual even for humans.
 

“Have you talked with Commander Steele?” she asked him. A strange expression crossed her face, one he didn’t understand.
 

“Only once. His knowledge of genetics is… disappointing.” Eshel immediately wished he’d refrained from such a comment. Commander Steele was Catherine’s CO and research collaborator. If what Ov’Raa had taught him was correct, the comment could offend her. However, to his surprise, his comment seemed to have the opposite effect; she appeared pleased.
 

“Are you familiar with the Nystrom incident?” she asked.
 

“The Nystrom incident?”

Catherine told him about the 92 human deaths resulting from a gene therapy designed to increase stature, and that the therapy was believed to be Korvali. “The Nystrom incident was the argument that convinced the Captain to bar you from sharing your knowledge.”
 

Eshel felt himself grow angry. “That is ridiculous. We would never waste resources developing something that does not benefit us. And if we did, we would not share it with… with humans.”

“I thought as much. But if you want to overturn that decision, you must find a way to convince them that your knowledge won’t be exploited in a similar fashion. They must see that the benefits of allowing you to work as a geneticist outweigh the costs.”
 

“What costs, other than protecting the information from exploitation?”

“The costs of angering your people,” she said.
 

“It is my own work. They have no claim on it.”

“Perhaps not. But you trained with them; you’d be sharing their way of thinking.”

Eshel realized she was correct. “I will consider what you’ve said. The XO has informed me that I must meet with this… Alliance… very soon.”

“When we’re in satellite range?”

“No. They will come here.”

Catherine stared at him in surprise. “They’re coming here?”

“Yes.”
 

They ate in silence for a bit longer. Finally, Catherine spoke again. “Has being here, with us, been more difficult than you anticipated?”
 

“Yes,” Eshel admitted. “My father attempted to prepare me for what I would encounter among the outsiders. But perhaps his training was incomplete.”