by C. Litka
01
I awoke with the plans I'd made as I fell asleep still swirling around in my head. It was dark and quiet. I lay in the hammock for a while, until I began to feel guilty. I swung out, buckling on my darter as I went. The forward compartment was dim, cool and very damp. Siss was curled up in a corner, a feathered mound, dozing. She half opened one eye, but otherwise didn't move. The light slanting through the hole in the hull forward was now a thick shaft of grey mist. We had gone through several extensive cloud banks during the shakedown voyage of the Indomitable, so I recognized this as a rainy day in the Pela.
'Cin?' I called poking my head out. It was much wetter outside - a fine mix of mist and floating rain droplets.
'Topside.'
'What are you doing out in this weather? Isn't it awful wet out there?'
'I'm doing my laundry.'
'Laundry? The gig's shower unit can do that,' I said, but rain or not, I was eager to see the real Cin so I climbed out and up the side of the gig.
Well, I saw the real Cin. She was standing on the engine compartment bulkhead in her magnetic boots, her laundry hung in the tangle of vines. My 'Good morning...' ended abruptly, with 'Oh! Sorry. You should've said something.'
'Don't tell me you've suddenly gotten shy, Litang,' she said with a wicked laugh. 'Come up. I've nothing to hide, nor you - not after our night together on Lontria.'
'Yes, I noticed,' I replied, ducking back down instead. 'The shower in the sanitation compartment is working, you know, don't you? You don't have to shower and wash your clothes in the rain.'
'It's too tiny. You have to wiggle around just to raise an arm. I needed more space to remove my mask and since I was wet already, I decided to do my laundry as well. Join me, Litang. No reason to be shy. 'You realize that I had to undress you, don't you?'
'Well, that's a small relief,' I said. 'I'd rather not think about Max undressing me,' I admitted. 'But you're entitled to your privacy.'
'Privacy in a tiny boat on a tiny island? I can look after myself. I don't mind being seen like this.'
I'd already seen enough of her to haunt my idle moments, and well, was pretty sure this was just a tease - her playing cat and mouse again. Did I want to play her game?
'Certainly you've seen a real girl before!'
'Several. There's no nudity taboo for swimming on Faelrain, and on Belbania, all those boxed-tourists from the cold worlds of Chantria and Neavery were taking off their clothing as they climbed out of their sleeper-pods and didn't put them back on until they were climbing into the box to go home. It's just that... I'm not sure it's wise.'
It probably wasn't wise. The sight of her slim body had brought to mind Min - the Min aboard the Starry Shore. I had made a choice, but there was a whiff of betrayal in that choice, which the sight of Cin's, slim, sleek, understated curves, with every muscle in perfect tone, as one would imagine a stealth to be, brought that guilt to the fore. So who was I betraying? And why was I feeling it anyway? No clear answer.
'Coward.'
She said that with enough force to make me realize that this was more than a tease, it was a test. A challenge. And my St Bleyth ancestors insisted that I take it. So I slowly climbed to the top of the wreck to join her. The green-grey-lit rain didn't fall - it just drifted and lazily swirled around the hollow impact crater, but it was as wet as any falling rain - tasting of leaves and flowers.
Her darter and various undergarments were snagged on the vines. A kit bag lay at her feet and she was squeezing the water out of her jumpsuit. She half turned to me. 'You could use a bath yourself. There's still some dried blood in your hair and, well, shipmate to shipmate, you could use a change of clothes, and a freshening up,' she said with that wicked smile of hers. The curious thing was that that smile didn't extend to her dark eyes. They weren't laughing. They were serious, even dangerous. I'd no idea what was going on, but I knew that this was indeed some sort of test, some sort of ritual. I'd a sense that this was something I needed to do, but needed to do it very thoughtfully.
'Sorry,' I muttered. 'I thought of showering after I'd finished work on the galley, but I didn't want to awaken you. The shower pumps make a bit of noise.'
I unhitched my darter and hung it on a vine, followed it with my jacket. I lifted my shirts over my head and off and hung them up as well.
'What's that?' she asked, pointing to my chest.
I looked down. I still had red scars across my chest from my injuries during the crash of the Starry Shore and subsequent treatment by the med unit. 'Ah, I got a bit smashed up when Vinden tried to kill us. I decided to put off the final treatments until I saw Min for effect. It's just superficial. I was thinking a few scars might be useful when presenting my story.'
'Were you hurt badly?' Was there a faint shadow of concern in her eyes?
'I gather it was touch and go, for a little while, but I survived. No harm done,' I said as I began the tricky operation of slipping out of my trousers while keeping at least one foot magnetically anchored to the gig. I hung them up next to me and looked to her. Briefly. Defiantly. And then turned away.
'I thought you weren't shy. Or are you embarrassed? Aren't we past that?'
'I'm being polite.'
'Hardly necessary. I can still picture you, Wil, standing naked yelling at all those poor, shocked Pruzsian spectators. You were hardly polite or shy then. Indeed, it was an amazingly brazen performance. I nearly broke out laughing, which would've sunk everything. You, and the sight of poor Max just staring wordlessly, totally lost, since that wasn't in the script. And all those prudes. I rather think they did have a nudity taboo...' she laughed.
I turned back to her. This time the laughter reached her eyes. She has a pretty face when her eyes held laughter in their grey depths.
'That was different. They had no business crowding into our hotel room. It was extremely rude of them, so I wanted to be rude right back at them. Besides, it gave then something to talk about, which I assume they did all morning.'
'Oh, I'm sure they did.'
'And I'm sure they talked about you as well.'
'Oh, I hope so. It was one of my better performances as well,' she laughed and tossing a soap packet to me added, 'Here's the soap. Wash up. Take your time. I'm about done and then I'll going down to dry off and make breakfast. No hurry.'
I snatched it out of the air and since she seemed in the moment, in good spirits, I decided to simply ask her what this was all about.
'So what are we doing here, Naylea? Is this some sort of test of my Unity Standard character? My meekness? Or my courage? Am I supposed to boldly sweep you into my arms or be discrete and respectful? Is this a St Bleyth courting ritual? Or simply a trap? An excuse to punish me for daring to... What? To look on you? Or touch you? Or not touch you? I'm sorry, but I'm not very bright in these matters. What is this about?'
She considered that for a moment and then said, 'Yes.'
'Yes, what?'
'Oh, just yes,' she replied, and then gave the jumpsuit she was wringing out an extra twist or two. I caught a familiar glint in her eyes and had the presence of mind to quickly turn my backside on her before she snapped the jumpsuit at me.
It smarted.
'Ouch!' I exclaimed, just to humor her.
'That didn't hurt. Quit faking it. It annoys me.'
'Yes, I know.'
Which earned me another snap.
I said 'Ouch!' again and looking back at her, adding 'You're very pretty, Naylea. It's only the downside consequences that keeps me only a friend, a shipmate...'
She gave me another couple snaps with her jumpsuit as I danced about, trying to avoid them.
With a final laugh, she said, 'Wash up. I'll have a mug of cha waiting for you.'
I looked back again and said as she slipped over the edge of the wreck, 'I'll be down directly. Thank you.'
I hadn't a clue as to what had just transpired, and neither, I suspect, did she. But it seemed a good beginning, a better one than I had
any reason to expect.
