“So you’re coaching him on how to pick up girls?”
“Just the one girl,” Gabriella corrected her mother, “but, yes.”
“You’ve taught him well, young grasshopper,” her mother observed. “He just gave her tone-lift and hot-friend-ignore. Those other women are totally hot and he just acted like she was the only one standing there. Boy’s gonna make progress.”
“And faster than I expected,” Gabriella said. “You need to help me pick out a good date-movie for them. Maybe we can let them use our living room? There’s not a lot of privacy on this ship if your name doesn’t begin with a title.”
“You know, you’re right.” Adelina watched the group of young women gently tease Tien. “I should talk to Luna about that. They need to consider crew accommodations that allow for couples.”
What the Hells?
Holey Grounds
North Highlands, near Unity
Frank dropped his bundle of stakes and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His EVA armor kept him cool enough but he preferred to keep the helmet stowed while he worked. The last twenty minutes had been in a patch with little shade and he’d neglected to bring a hat.
He stepped into a cooler patch of shade and looked back at the markers he’d planted. The long rows of holes stretched ahead through the partially cleared forest.
Each hole for a coffee sapling had a small pile of dirt on each side, one from the top of the hole and the other from the bottom. They were barely visible under the thin layer of fine mulch left by the Quailu machinery they’d used to prep the area.
One nice thing about the nanite-based farming tech was that they could program nearly endless variations in their capabilities. The thing was still up on the hill, now building a cistern to hold water.
It had prepped holes for the saplings, mulched them to prevent excess degradation of the soil and planted rows of Frank’s cannabis, all in one operation. Damn sight better than anything I’ve ever imagined on Earth, he thought.
But they couldn’t get the machine to place stakes at each cannabis plant, for some reason. In truth, he was glad to have a chance to put some sweat into the crop.
Otherwise, would he still feel like a farmer?
The trees hummed as a breeze tickled the canopy, too high for him to feel on the forest floor. A scatter of leaves floated slowly down to land around him and he shivered.
The alien life around him was singing, chattering and creaking. The forest creatures were rarely quiet but now they almost seemed to be calling out together.
In fact, now that he was paying attention, they all seemed to be coming into sync. Like a group of people walking across a rope bridge, he thought, the words in his mind conforming rhythmically with the animals without his notice.
He could swear there was a... whispering sound as well. It matched with the animals but it seemed to be leading, rather than following – a formless mantra that brought temporary order to the chaos of nature.
His blood pounded like bass-drums in his ears as he stared with superstitious dread into the dark shadows of the forest. His focus seemed to narrow on one dark tunnel of leaves and branches, the scene growing to fill his vision.
And then, suddenly, the whole thing was over. He shook his head, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair, surprised at how hot it was.
He looked around. I know for damned sure I was standing in the shade just now, he insisted to himself.
But Ragnarok’s star had moved to drench him in its rays once more. He was at least two long strides away from the shade. His bundle of stakes were just where he’d dropped them.
How long was I standing here? He looked over to the next rows where Trish, Vikram and Terry were working. They were all breathing heavy, looking around in shock.
“That was weird, right?” Terry asked. “I kind of feel like that was weird.”
“It was weird,” Trish said.
“Should we head back?” Terry asked.
“We’re almost done.” She squinted up at the sky. “Still time to finish and it seems like whatever that was… it’s gone now.” She pulled out a stake from her bundle and drove it into the ground. “I’d rather finish now than have to come back again later.”
“Seriously?”
She turned to face him. “We’re making a home on an alien planet. If we stop and run for home every time something ‘strange’ happens, we won’t get much done.”
That got Frank moving. He picked up his bundle. It was still next to his feet, proof that he hadn’t moved back into the sunlight.
They managed to finish in less than an hour and they loaded up into the open-sided runabout that passed for a pickup truck on Ragnarok. Frank fed power to the grav-engines and they lifted off, turning toward the city.
They descended from the highlands, swooping in low over the city walls. Vikram leaned out the side as they passed into the city, frowning down at the corner of the wall, ignoring his mother’s demand that he stop risking his neck.
Frank brought the transport down onto the roof of their house where a landing pad sat next to Terry’s suite. The engines whined out the last of their power as the three contact points settled onto the reinforced surface.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Trish demanded angrily. “Hanging out the side like that?”
“Did you see the top of the north-east tower?” Vikram asked, too absorbed in his own thoughts to consider how he’d scared her.
“Something interrupted the pattern when the nanites were putting up the wall,” Frank told him. “We’re going to have a railing put up to keep anyone from falling off…”
He frowned, realizing his wife was now angry at more than just her son. Now it looks like I’m not taking her concern seriously either. He almost reminded Vikram to listen to his mother but that was a bit too weak by this point.
“Your mother’s right,” he said. “We don’t want you getting hurt. Leaning out of a moving runabout is a damn good way to get yourself killed. Now on, when we ride this thing, everybody connects a tie-down to the seat rails.
“And...” He held up a warning finger. “I will make a point of dragging your reckless back-side over every roof in town if you manage to fall out.”
“Sorry,” Vikram said, sounding not the least as if he meant it, “but did you notice how the slice missing from the tower was aligned with us as we returned to town?”
Frank sighed. “Aligned with us?”
“Our flight path,” Vikram insisted. “The path we took to get home from the weird thing that happened up in the highlands.” He hopped down from the runabout. “I’m going to take some measurements. Maybe…”
“Maybe you’ll do nothing of the sort,” Trisha fumed. “Not until you’ve finished unpacking your things.”
“But Mom…”
“No buts, young man!” She pointed imperiously at the stairs. “Get to it!”
The young man slouched off, grumbling, but in that uniquely teenage way, venting frustration while skating dangerously close to the possibility of further trouble.
Terry hopped out and went to his own place, trying his best to hide his grin.
She blew out a long breath, sagging against the headrest of her seat. She looked over at Frank, reaching out and, to his relief, taking his hand.
“What was that?” she asked quietly.
He hardly needed to ask what she was talking about. “It felt like everything was being synchronized,” he said. “By something… someone…”
She nodded. “It was coming from the back of the ledge we’re planting on.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “We were all facing that way, remember?”
“Right.” He nodded absently. “And it lasted for quite a while. I was in the shade when it started but the star was shining down on me by the time we came back to our senses.”
“Some natural phenomenon, perhaps?” she ventured.
“A natural energy field, maybe.” Frank shrugge
d. “I mean, who knows what’s normal on an alien planet?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vikram, through the glazed dome of the central atrium, sneaking out of his room and heading for the stairs to the main floor. Kid’s gonna get an earful from her when he comes back, he thought ruefully.
Unless I can keep her from checking to make sure he’s making progress with his unpacking. He raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s been a tough day,” he said. “Why don’t we go to our room and I’ll help you out of that armor?”
She chuckled. “You’ll help me out of this automatically retractable suit of armor, will you?”
“Oh, yes, please,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her neck. “And that deliciously snug underarmor suit you have on might be especially tricky…”
She made a sound in her throat. “And what if Vikram should hear us, all the way from the wall, where I presume he’s already headed?”
He leaned back to look at her.
She giggled. “Don’t sit there with your mouth hanging open. I know my own son!” She grabbed the collar of his armor and pulled him in closer.
“It’s nice to know you’re willing to take on the arduous task of distracting me so he won’t get in trouble.”
“Arduous almost fits,” he said, shifting in his seat. “I think we need to start with my own suit because it’s suddenly a lot less comfortable.”
She frowned for a moment but then her eyes widened in shock and amusement. She pressed an access port on his chest and an emergency interface appeared, letting her deactivate his suit.
“I can’t walk around like this!” he hissed in alarm. “This underarmor suit leaves nothing to the imagination. “
“Vikram’s already left the house,” she said, leering at his condition. “And I can hear Terry’s shower running. There’s nobody to see you between here and our own shower, except for me and I’m allowed to look all I want.”
Terry took incredibly short showers, literally just enough time to apply and rinse off the soap and shampoo. Frank didn’t think this was the time to bring that up.
He couldn’t put his finger on why but it was oddly stimulating to be so exposed while his wife was still encased in armor. He followed her to the stairs and they descended to the second floor.
He heard a small gasp and looked down to see Mrs. Naidu standing in the atrium, next to the garden. He edged behind Trisha, acutely conscious of why she’d made that sound of surprise.
The heavy metal railing looked very nice but it didn’t hide much.
“So sorry,” Mrs. Naidu stammered. “Your son said to come in, so…” she looked down at the garden. “You have a lovely garden,” she said, complimenting the bare patch of dirt.
Terry came down the stairs, hair still wet. “Do we have any of those leftovers from the celebration?” he asked before noticing that there was a visitor.
“Hello, Mrs. Naidu,” he smiled down at her. “You have good timing. We just got back.”
I’ve heard of better, Frank thought.
“Yes, hello, Terry,” she said sounding relieved. “It’s my husband, you see…” She hesitated for a moment.
“His back?” Terry asked. “He was walking a little strange last night, when we were heading home.”
She nodded, twisting a kerchief fretfully. “We have access to one of the watering units tomorrow but I don’t know if he’ll be back on his feet by then and…”
“And those enzymes will stop working on the soil composition if the conditions are too dry,” Terry finished for her.
“Even for an automated system, there’s still a fair bit of heavy lifting on those water-bowsers and you and Kiara are both too delicate for that kind of work.”
Frank smiled. Kiara could probably handle the lifting but it would be far more exhausting for her than for Terry. The young man’s comment hadn’t gone unnoticed either. Mrs. Naidu allowed a smile.
“I’ll be there at first light?” Terry suggested.
“Thank you so much,” Mrs. Naidu said warmly, now wreathed in smiles. “And Kiara will make sure you don’t go hungry!”
“I’m sure you’re all hungry now after a long day up in the hills, so I’ll leave you in peace.” She turned and headed for the entry-gate that sat in a tunnel beneath Vikram’s second-floor bedroom.
“That was nice of you, Terry!” Trisha smiled. “And, yes, there’s still lots of leftovers downstairs. You go ahead.” She stepped to the right, giving Frank the room to get past her without embarrassing himself in front of his friend.
“You go ahead,” she told him again. “We’ll be a while getting cleaned up.”
Frank slid their bedroom door open and stepped inside, breathing a sigh of relief. Trisha followed, her footsteps sounding harsher on the wood flooring.
“Is it strange that I’m liking this?” she asked him. “I can’t help but feel… powerful in this suit.”
“I noticed the same thing,” Frank croaked, “when we were sitting in the runabout and you deactivated my armor…”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “We’d better take a shower now,” she said, “while we’re both still willing to take the time.”
Time Alone
The Mouse, In Transit
Gabriella slipped behind a bulkhead and activated a snippet of ready-code, a skill she’d learned from Hack. She’d taken to wearing her suit like the crew, on but with the helmet and gloves stowed.
The coding used here was easy enough to pick up. She’d done a full module of programming in her senior year at high-school and the programming languages on Earth were filled with legacy nonsense. The stuff Hack was showing her was far cleaner.
She’d even used it to replace the operating system on the phone-implant she’d gotten as a grad present.
She was using a base-snippet that held a menu of her favorite applications. She could quickly launch a holo-vid, place a call or, in this case, open a hatch.
It snapped open faster than the eye could follow, leaving a three-foot-square hole in the floor with chamfered angles at each corner. Technically, it’s octagonal, I suppose. She took a quick look over her shoulder but none of the engineering staff had noticed the sound in the clamor of the engine room.
She climbed a ladder down two levels to find herself at the intersection of three large tunnels. It was a Y intersection, with one six-meter-wide tunnel splitting off into two as it ran aft. She was standing on a small triangle of safe space cordoned off from the tunnels by railings on two sides, the third being the four-meter-wide section of wall she’d just climbed down.
She used her ready-code to call up a comfortable seat and pulled out a thermos-mug of tea and her e-reader from a small satchel attached to the side of her armored hip. After the last few days, she needed a little time to relax. No lovesick crewmen asking for pointers, no maternal suspicions, no massive spaceship from an alien republic, just some green tea and a bit of escapist historical fiction.
She wrinkled her nose. That scent… moldy, pungently salty… She pressed her lips together, looking accusingly at the Universe in general. “A strange place to run into you, isn’t it, Father?” she asked without turning around.
“But an excellent place if one wishes some time alone, yes?” Sulak asked, emerging from the darkness behind her. “I tend to find solitude is often improved by sharing it with a select few.”
She looked up at him as he strolled into view, not bothering to keep the skepticism from her face. He’s an empath and, anyway, he’s Quailu; he probably doesn’t care about body language.
She activated a chair for him as well. He could have just sat and the ship would have prevented his august bottom from falling to the decking but it seemed more polite. And her own design was far more comfortable.
Sulak settled onto the seat with a chuckle.
“Are you reading me, Father?” she asked without rancor. In a way, being around Sulak was almost like continuous confession.
“A little,” the oracle admitted. “D
o you mind?”
“Not really,” she paused to think about it. “I think your choices regarding… hygiene… actually help. I don’t mind you being able to read me because I doubt you’d look down your nose at me.”
Sulak made a deep rumbling sound, like a truck-load of gravel on a dirt road.
“Father!” She peered at him in the gloom. “Did I just make you laugh?”
“Maybe a little. I see you have an eye for the forgotten spaces of our ship.”
“They tend to be where solitude lurks,” she said. “Fortunate, don’t you think, that I place such value on both?”
“The Universe tends to unfold as it will,” Sulak opined vaguely. “Still, it seems to have a definite sense of order. Why, I once…” He stopped talking when the breeze in the tunnel began stiffening.
Gabriella closed her helmet and put a hand over her mug as the breeze became a howling wind, blowing the odd bit of debris past them.
A hum built up, becoming an almost physical force that she could feel in her gut. She could see the glow now and it suddenly flashed around the bend ahead, revealing itself to be one of the monorail cars that serviced the ship.
It roared past, battering them with displaced air. It roared down the right-hand branch and then lurched up into a vertical shaft so abruptly that Gabriella found it hard to believe anyone inside could survive.
The wind died quickly and she re-opened her helmet, calmly taking another sip of her tea. She took a look at her self-invited companion and giggled.
“This place is an acquired taste,” she told him, reaching out to pluck a meal-bar wrapping from the side of the oracle’s face.
“Yes it…” Sulak worked his jaw and then leaned over to spit something out onto the floor. “… It has its charm, though. I would suspect that none of the crew come down here unless something is in need of repair.”
“I haven’t seen anyone,” she agreed.
“I’ve become something of an aficionado of forgotten spaces lately,” he explained. “Did you know there’s a network of tunnels throughout the ship that were meant for the engineering division?” He shook his head in wonder. “Most ships don’t use them. Few people are even aware they exist.”
Ragnarok: Colonization, intrigue and betrayal. Page 13
