Larsen's foreman, along with a dozen or so battered androids, were already setting out to deliver the parts we needed while we negotiated for non-essentials. The trader's easy-going manner was obviously a result of a smooth operation.
Instead of riding along with the loaders that would make the delivery, I was able to entice Ayan into spending some time walking along the consumer area circling The Pit on the level below us. There were shops and restaurants on the same level as Larsen's, but I overheard another customer who was just browsing by say that the real pedestrian area started somewhere below.
As we stepped out of the large lift it was immediately obvious that they were right. The lighting was a little dimmer on level seventy-seven but the signs from the various shops lining the broad circular walkway made up for it. There was no street traffic; only pedestrians were allowed. The view overlooking the middle of The Pit was much better. We were at eye level with an arena platform that was host to a football game. Somehow the human leagues were out here, though I didn't recognize the uniforms. There were gates blocking off transparent walkways that lead to bleachers spaced across the edges of the field, which was sealed from the crowd by a dome. Sadly football riots weren't unheard of there either.
Ayan tugged at my hand. “I didn't know you were a fan.”
“I played when I was young, just a few years. Not much of a spectator though.”
“We'll have to have a game. Oz and I played in the Academy, but never against each other. I was ahead of him.”
“I'll arrange some time on the flight deck with Minh,” I remarked as we started walking off into the crowd. I didn't notice right away, but there were two distinct sides to the walkway; the shop side, where people moved counter clockwise, and the Pit side closest to the transparent railings, where everyone moved clockwise.
Ayan chucked and shook her head. “Oh no, he's taking me seriously.”
“What? You wouldn't play?”
“I'll stick to zero gravity yoga and tai chi. I'm a little short for football.”
“I don't think that'll matter so much. I'm pretty sure that if we use the flight deck, Minh would make sure he gets a team. Have you met some of those pilots? I think Franco has you beat at a hundred forty five centimetres.”
Ayan laughed and nodded. “And he'd be crazy enough to play. Do you think Minh would join in?”
“I have no idea. I know he can kick a ball, but I met him in the infantry a long time after I stopped playing.”
“Oh, I thought you two were friends before then.”
“Nope, I met him planet-side on my first tour. I kept his troop shuttle in the air and he kept me from getting shot. I got a chance to save his butt a few times though. That was such a different time.”
“It sounds like a good chance meeting.”
“The best kind. I don't think we'd be friends any other way. He's my opposite.”
“I know. He enjoys life right out in the open, says what he's thinking before he's decided whether or not it should be aired aloud, while you're a thinker, say what you mean, and ask all those to the point questions.”
“Minh calls it broody.”
“I wouldn't say you're moody, really.”
She hadn't heard clearly over the buzz of the crowd. “Not moody, broody. Like I'm sulking over something.”
“Oh, broody, that's a bit more like you. I'm surprised I haven't heard that since we left Freeground.”
“Well, now I have an excuse to be broody I suppose,” I stopped myself and looked at her. “You don't think I'm broody aboard?”
She was trying not to laugh and was distracted, by design or chance I'll never know, as she looked up towards an old fashioned neon sign that depicted a pile of red spaghetti with a piece of pizza stuck in it pointy end down. “Ooh! Italian food!” She nearly dragged me by the hand through the doors.
The rich, saucy aroma hit me like a wave as we walked inside and I immediately realized how hungry I was. “Good idea.”
The patrons were mostly human, though there was a table of nafalli near the back. I had never seen one in person before. It was almost comical watching them leisurely eat their spaghetti, reaching a fork out with their long forearms, slurping the strands in through their small mouths and patting down their fur with napkins. One of the women laughed and it sounded small and sweet, almost like a chirp. As we found a quiet booth, I couldn't help but glance over. They were tall. The shortest was my height and looked like the youngest. My guess was I was looking at a family of five.
“I've never seen nafalli either. They're beautiful.”
One of them slurped in a very long strand of spaghetti, and laughed loudly as it slapped his flat black nose several times on its way in. I couldn't help but laugh with him quietly, even though I was fairly sure we were too far off for them to hear. “I did some reading on them a couple years ago while things were slow in port. They're marsupials with very strong family units.”
“Yup, I remember watching a documentary. Humans could learn a lot from them. Their tribes fought for thousands of years before they made it to space, but then they colonized a few systems near their home world and there was peace within a century.”
I could see the grey and black fur on one of their backs ripple and stand up for a moment before flattening down. He leaned into the table and said something very quietly to the rest. Another, much smaller, white and red furred nafalli looked up to us briefly and nodded. “I think we've been noticed noticing them,” I whispered.
Thankfully the waiter came over to our candle lit booth just a moment later and blocked the view. “Welcome to Marconi's. Would you like our authentic dish menu or would you prefer something generated by our high grade materializer?”
Ayan took the pair of menus from under the waiter's arm and handed me one. “We've had nothing but materialized food for two months. I came here for Italian,” she said eagerly.
The waiter bowed shallowly, amused. “Do we need to see the wine list?”
I had seen enough period movies to know that I could take the old fashioned wine list and make my best guess, maybe consult with a database using my command console, or I could defer to the waiter's choice. “What would you recommend?” I asked casually.
“That all depends on whether you prefer a brut, dry vintage or a more doux, sweet tasting wine.”
I raised an eyebrow, not quite sure if he was asking the question to be difficult, or if this was his way of making my decision easier. “Something a little sweet, but closer to the middle,” I replied.
“Very good, I have just the vintage for you. A Bergeron. Only six years old but full bodied. It will suit any dish, unless you plan on ordering chicken.”
“I think I'll have the spaghetti,” I said as I opened the menu.
Ayan was already browsing. The menu looked old fashioned with a leatherette cover, but once you opened it each dish was listed with a video portrait of how it looked on the plate. It was no fast food operation however, of which there were many that pretended to be classy but really made everything in high resolution materializers. On the fancy fast food restaurant menus you could actually select one of the dishes and smell it in advance. It was easy to imagine that, if they had a real kitchen in this restaurant, having each dish smell exactly the same every time it was served might be a little difficult. “I'll have the vegetarian lasagne,” Ayan said as she handed the menu back. “And a dessert menu,” she finished with a smile.
“Oh, I don't think you'll need one,” the waiter said in a whisper. “Fresh strawberries have just arrived, I'll have the chef sprinkle them atop our famous chocolate cheesecake for the both of you. But, it is very expensive, I must warn you.”
“How expensive?” I asked in an equally low whisper.
Ayan fixed me with a look that was at once pleading and warning.
“I'll have the spaghetti, and the cheesecake when we're ready please.”
“Very good sir. I'll return with the wine momentarily,” he concluded with
a bow before striding off to the back of the restaurant. I watched him as he returned the menus and continued on into the kitchen. I could see past him as one of the double doors swung open and there was a hustle and bustle of noise and activity as chefs in white worked actual stoves and moved in a coordinated rush.
“Well I feel under-dressed,” I commented quietly. “Next time we go to an authentic restaurant remind me to materialize a suit.”
“That's presumptuous of you, especially on a first date,” Ayan teased with a crooked grin.
I was caught completely off guard. I hadn't thought about that at all. Being with her was just so natural no matter where we were. That would have been the perfect thing to say just then, but would you think that it would occur to me in that moment? “Well, I would have thought we were past that by now,” I said instead, and wished I could take it back right away.
“Past that? I think your rank has gone to your head, Captain.” Thankfully she had a sense of humour, and a smile that I couldn't help but return, despite the sudden onset of anxiety.
I didn't get a chance to respond. I hadn't noticed the nafalli had finished and were half way to our table. All five of them came to stand right across the opening of our booth, and one of them, the smaller, white and red furred one with the pink nose, made a sound like she was clearing her throat. “I'm sorry to interrupt,” she started. “But my husband couldn't help but overhear you speaking about us.”
Ayan responded without missing a beat. “I'm so sorry for staring. We've never seen your kind in person. Holograms don't do your race justice. We didn't mean to distract you from your meal.”
The much taller one, a male I assumed, put his long arm around the white and red one, resting his clawed hand on her shoulder. “Oh, that we're used to. We know we are far from home. What my wife would like to say is that I overheard something I found very kind. She only wanted to thank you.”
“You could hear us across a busy restaurant?” Ayan asked, relaxing visibly.
“Yes, you cannot see our ears, but we have excellent hearing. When you said humans could learn from us, from our peace after so much war, it touched me,” the taller, grey and black haired male said.
“I was so happy when he told me about it, I wanted to rush over and thank you. This trading expedition has not been easy. We have met many who have been unkind. Hearing good words has lifted me,” she gushed, picking up one of Ayan's hands with both of hers. “I am Loori.”
“I am Ayan. This is Jonas,” she replied.
The large grey and black took one of my hands in his. It was warm. He was very good at keeping the claws from touching me while he clasped my hand in four thick fingers and one very long thumb. “I am Oomal. My family and I are about to begin our journey back home. Our ship is the Aulson, which means Laden Vessel in your language.”
“I'm the Captain of the First Light. She is the Chief Engineer.”
“That's a very good coupling!” Loori burst out.
One of the other grey and black furred nafalli shook his head and covered his nose with a hand. “Mother, you're embarrassing them. Other races don't gossip and openly comment like we do.”
“Oh hush, it's a good match, don't you think?” Loori said as she looked to her husband.
“It would be. I don't think it's like that. Humans don't travel with family often, remember?”
Loori looked from Ayan to me then back to Ayan, her grey-green eyes looked hopeful. “Oh, but it must be. Tell me it is!”
Ayan was starting to blush and was about to say something when she was interrupted by a shorter white and orange furred nafalli. “Look! They're changing colour! I love it when they do that, it's so pretty!”
“It's our first date,” Ayan said quietly, laughing and blushing a new shade of red. I was doing the same.
“Yup, that's embarrassing even by our standards,” the younger male, whose hand was still over his nose, said as he shook his head again.
“It was very nice meeting you. Thank you for cheering my wife up,” Oomal said as he started moving his family off.
“It was my pleasure. Good journey home,” Ayan said after them.
Loori nodded as her husband guided her away from the table towards the door. “You too! Don't let this one stray off, he looks like a successful one!” She said in a conspiratorial whisper as though I couldn't hear.
The waiter was patiently standing behind them and stepped in right away, filling two glasses and shaking his head. “We'll miss them.”
“Oh, they came in often?” Ayan asked.
“Every night since they came into port two weeks ago. I have never seen anyone enjoy spaghetti so much. We were a little shocked when they first sat down. As far as we knew they didn't come to this part of the galaxy, but they were so kind.”
“I'm sure they'll be telling everyone at home about this place,” I replied. “You might have to stock up on spaghetti.”
“I'm sure nothing would please our chef more,” he said as he put the carafe in the centre of the table. “Your food will be out in a moment. In the meantime please enjoy our fresh garlic bread. It is baked in a miniature fabricator oven inside the table.” As though prompted by the phrase, a circle opened in the table and table cloth to admit a basket of hot buttered garlic bread.
“I have to get one of those for my new quarters,” Ayan said, looking at the breadbasket wide eyed.
She looked up from the breadbasket and I was struck, mesmerized. The way her red curls framed her face, her full smile made its appearance, and those glad blue eyes looked right into mine. I just stared for a moment.
She cocked her head a little and quietly asked, “Hey, where's your head right now?”
I realized that I wore an expression that was a close match and took her hand in mine. “Right here.”
“I wouldn't have believed it if someone told me what would come of those sims. To be out here with you, not in some virtual social environment after all the action is over, but in a restaurant so far from home.”
“I'm glad Minh delivered on his threat to tell someone in Command I was involved with the scenarios.”
Ayan was absolutely shocked. “That bugger! I was wondering how Command tracked us all down so fast.”
“Well, they would have found us out eventually.”
“But now I know I owe him. First I'll prank him, probably with Laura's help, then I'll thank him. But in that order.”
“Whatever you do, make sure you catch it on video at least. Holo if you can manage it.”
“Oh, I'll make sure. Still, I have to admit I have no regrets. I really didn't know where things were going for me after the first refit was finished on the First Light on Freeground. I suppose I would have stayed on with the engineering team.”
“With the rank of commander and being the one who directed the refit, wouldn't you have been chief engineer?”
“There's always the chance that someone more experienced would be brought in for the tour. I'd be there nevertheless, I think. No other plans. What about you?”
“What about what?”
“What would you be doing if you weren't caught up in all this?”
“Oh, if life had continued on as normal?”
“Right, any plans? Do you have some girl you left behind I don't know about?”
“God no. There's no one back there. I brought everyone I really cared about with me on this trip. The only real friend I had was Minh. Everyone else was in the service or someone I was in contact with through the simulations.”
“You didn't have any plans?”
“I'd try to think up a next step, sort of look around and see if there was anything I wanted to move on to, but then I'd be going to work for the day answering hails for the Port Authority. I didn't want to get back into the military. I was skilled as an engineer, but even after doing a tour and finishing well, I knew that wasn't what I wanted to be doing. Then Minh ran into Oz while he was on leave, he got into the sims as a fighter pilot, then dragged
me into it.”
“So the real story comes out. It's all Minh's fault. He dragged you into simulations, kept you in there for a couple years, then when he had you running the show he brought Fleet Command in.”
“I never thought of it that way, but he didn't have to keep me in, trust me. The tactics and command were like an aphrodisiac, and if anything kept me coming back it was the people I shared so many experiences with.”
“Virtual experiences. I know. I'd be aboard the Sunspire looking forward to being in a safe area, where we were communications free and I could spend some rec time with you guys.”
“You were already out there. Sims must've seemed like a game in comparison.”
“At first, but I was part of boarding parties, tactical raids, even a gunnery crew member in the sims. Aboard ship in the real I was part of the engineering staff. I went planet or station side often enough, but only after the area was checked and they determined it safe. I love the life, but in the sims I got to play the other side.”
“So what you're saying is you'd like to take a shift with the gunnery crews or with Minh's fighter pilots?”
“Oh, no. I love running engineering. If Oz were to reassign me, I'd have to pull rank. Besides, I'm a nervous pilot. I kept failing the emergency segment of the manual pilot qualification. The test that starts with the ship spinning out of control kept on making me queasy and I could never manage to find the direction of the spin with the controls.” She mimed a struggle with a control stick while crossing her eyes to emphasize her point, ending the short performance by puffing her cheeks as though she were about to throw up.
I laughed so hard some of the patrons couldn't help but look in our direction to see if they could catch the gag. “Well, I'll make a note in your file, not permitted in a gunnery position or as a fighter pilot.”
“That's a kindness.”
We just looked at each other for a lingering moment before we were interrupted by the waiter, who gracefully placed our steaming food on the table.
Spinward Fringe Broadcast 0: Origins Page 35
