“You’re terraforming the planet?” I asked him.
“Yep! Turning it into a richer, more human-friendly environment, one microbe at a time.” He opened a door, not a hatch this time, and waved me through with a small bow and a grin.
“I’ve heard of the concept.” I admitted. “But I didn’t think it was a feasible project.”
“Well, it’s a long-term project.” He looked serious for a moment. “I don’t think we’ll complete it during my lifetime.”
I blinked. It wasn’t just the implications of what this apparently young man had said, it was walking through an archway and into a large park, or garden, or… I smiled at the people hurrying toward me from paths and bowers. Perhaps it was more like fairyland.
“You are welcome to Pythias.” The first person to reach me was a middle-aged woman, who held out both her hands and clasped mine together when I made the reciprocal gesture. “We hope we can be of assistance.”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” I said, smiling down at her. She was a full head shorter than I am, but made up for it with plentiful curves. “My name is Jade.”
“What a lovely name! I am Yvette. You met my son, Marsh…” She started to introduce people, and I did my best to remember some of them. There were quite a few, Marsh had not been exaggerating when he told me his was a big family. Finally, she wound down and looked up at me, her eyes big and appealing, “you will join us for our meal?”
I wasn’t going to give offense. And it had been a very long time since I had eaten real food. “I would be delighted. I haven’t had a proper meal in as long as I have been away from home.”
She clapped her hands together in a childlike outburst of delight. “I am challenged, then! Please, forgive me for rushing off, but I will console you with my husband, Theo, and Marsh, to talk about your ship’s troubles.”
Bemused, I watched her bustle off and turned to Marsh, who had been hovering in the vicinity of my left elbow. With him was a tall, slender man. “This is my Da, Theo.”
“Pleased to meet you.” I shook his hand. “Or, perhaps, meet again?”
He laughed out loud, transforming his thin, ascetic face. “Yvette is a force of nature. No, no… you hadn’t yet met me, but we won’t expect you to recite everyone’s names.”
“I do appreciate that,” I said. “You are the colony’s engineer?”
He nodded. “I am, and Marsh is my ablest assistant, although I admit my bias.”
His eyes twinkled. Marsh looked pleased, although that might have been the face he always wore. The boy was just plain happy. I looked around the big garden park. Folks were dispersing again, politely leaving us to our business. I shook my head and looked back at Theo. “I do hope I haven’t interrupted your work.”
I was beginning to worry that perhaps I had exposed these people to something worse than just a badly dressed refugee from unknown troubles. To be sure, if the Termine stowaway had made it through the shutdown, it was probably unstoppable. But… this was a happy place.
Theo, who couldn’t have known what was flickering through my mind, shook his head and made an expressive gesture. “Rather, you provide a welcome break from the work. Come, let us look at the repairs you need.”
While we walked back to the ship, I explained what had happened. Which bore, of course, no resemblance to what had really happened. My story involved a foldspace transition gone wrong, a blown cable, and hasty repairs while drifting dead in space. Marsh’s eyes were very wide when I finished talking.
Theo looked thoughtful. “It sounds like what you really need is a new cable. Which is easy enough to do. But good lady, if you will permit? I would prefer to test the other cables to be sure this cannot happen again.”
I hesitated. I had no idea what testing would show. To the best of my knowledge, what I had described had never happened. Theo hadn’t seemed to question it, because foldspace was so weird compared to realspace physics. Which was why I’d picked that for having gone wrong. Finally I realized that to not agree would be to appear suspicious.
“If it isn’t an imposition.” My hesitance would appear to be reluctance to take advantage of their hospitality.
“We wouldn’t want to learn that we’d sent you away to die.” He said.
I opened the ship, feeling guilty. I’d put them at risk, and they in turn were concerned for me. Theo tutted over the condition of the board and cables. Marsh, his jaw dropped, looked from me to the board to the bridge and back again.
“You flew like this?” He blurted.
I shrugged. No way to explain that a rockhound, mining asteroids on the fringes of a system, far from any helpful engineers, flew how she could and what she could. There was a story involving a salvaged engine and a small asteroid… but I couldn’t tell him that. “You do what you have to.” I explained simply.
Theo dove into the bridge, literally, lying on the floor and peering under the control desk with a tiny light he’d pulled from a pocket. “I think you did a bit of damage when you moved the board, but given the situation, understandable and could have been worse.”
Marsh got down with him to see, and Theo started pointing out what they would need to fix. I leaned on the hatch, trying to give them some space, and enjoyed the interaction. Made me think of my man for the first time in a while. Him teaching the young’uns had sounded like this. No pressure, just information and encouraging noises when the student picked up on the information. I’d been our clan’s official teacher, but he’d been equal in many ways.
I missed him. Theo got up and smiled at me. “If I could see the reactor?”
I waved at the board and the cable snaking down the narrow corridor. “Follow the line.”
Marsh chuckled. “This is a lot smaller than I thought a ship would be.”
“This is a small ship,” I told him. Theo walked ahead, and I kept pace with the lad – or maybe he with me. I was rediscovering some of the perks of being in a young body again. “A scout ship can only carry two, three if they’re real cozy. And no cargo. But for real small, I’ll show you the scooter when we go out again.”
“Where is it?” He looked around, taking in the lack of room. Or rooms, really. The two cabins had hatches, but the rest of the quarters were right here, in an open area centered on the corridor.
“Limpeted onto the hull. No place to put it inside, much less launch it.”
Theo had the hatch to the maintenance area open. “Marsh.”
“Yes, Da?”
I stood back again and watched them, Marsh taking notes as his father rattled off parts they would need. Theo straightened up, closing the hatch.
“What’s the verdict?” I asked.
“Nothing very hard to find, I have everything but one piece, a clamp that was broken, but I can take the pieces and print a new one I think. Or rather, Marsh can.”
Marsh beamed. I smiled at him, and then looked at Theo. “I will pay you, but what I have to offer is a trifle unconventional.”
Theo looked shocked. “Pay? But no!”
I raised a hand. “Please. I insist upon it. I have the resources to do so, and…” I could hardly explain to him that I well remembered the challenges of raising a large family with limited, erratic income. Being reliant on the company store, outside income would no doubt be very welcome to them. “I won’t take no for an answer.” I smiled to take the sting out of my words.
“We will discuss it after dinner.” He replied. I read into his grave tone and suggested timing that he would involve Yvette in that conversation.
He looked at his wrist and the handcomm wrapped around it. “Speaking of dinner, we should return to the Glade and freshen up for the meal. We can provide you with a room… and I would guess that my wife has already prepared one for you.”
I took a breath. Declining hospitality would insult them. “I don’t have many clothes…”
“We don’t dress for dinner.” Marsh said.
Theo nodded. “We are very informal and no one will
chide you for your garb. You are not of the family.”
“Then I will accept gratefully. Being out of the ship is a welcome and refreshing change.” I wondered how long I could keep up the formal language. Theirs was clipped and educated. It was an interesting contrast to the colloquial slang of my own clan.
Once more we traveled through the slick, featureless ceramsteel corridors to the vibrant green of the Glade. In the hours we had been gone – and it was not a long time, perhaps two or three hours – the Glade had been transformed. The light was nearer twilight than full midday. The open patch of smooth grass now was covered by a long table, flanked with chairs, and overhead small twinkling lights hovered. They cast a warm glow over the scene.
“Redea, show Jade to her room, please.” Yvette’s voice sounded seemingly from midair, and a young girl appeared out of the shadows to smile up at me and take my hand. She seemed to be about seven or eight years. I let her lead me into a path under a tunnel of flowering vines. She didn’t speak, but giggled when I asked her the name of the flowers. Shyness, I diagnosed. She would likely get over it and talk my ear off once she was comfortable.
“Thank you.” I told her when she opened a door I would have missed, and made a small shooing gesture. She giggled again and ran away.
I walked into the room, discovering that it was a small, but complete, apartment. There was an enclosed bath, but in the larger single room a bed, seating, and kitchenette were everything you could need or want to be comfortable for a guest stay. It was clean and shiny enough that I decided I might be the first person to stay in it. Or perhaps it was simply Yvette, who I had already decided was much as I had been. Queen in her castle.
I cleaned up, reveling in the feel of real water cascading over my skin for as long as I wanted. A ship fresher will clean you, but it don’t feel as clean as wet. When I walked back out into the Glade, regretting not having a change of clothes, the little girl was back.
“Redea.” I greeted her.
She didn’t grab my hand this time, as her hands were full of flowers. She beckoned to me. I came toward her, but she didn’t run away. Instead, she beckoned again, and I leaned down to her. She reached up and put the flowers – a crown of them, I realized – on my head.
“Thank you.” I managed to say, before my throat tightened and made speech impossible. Fortunately, she didn’t seem inclined to talk, either, but danced ahead of me down the path like a happy little princess. I walked slowly, my heart aching. If I had brought harm to these people…
Yvette met me with outstretched hands again and seated me at her right hand. I was forcibly reminded of my thoughts of her as a queen, and it lightened my spirits.
Chapter 10: Waving His Wild Tail
A boy, to my eyes in his teens, came and set a dish on the table. “Carrot and coriander soup,” he said.
Yvette beamed. “Well done!”
He bowed a little and went to join the others, and she leaned over. “You see, I am the head chef, and they are my sous chefs.”
“He made this?” I tasted the soup, which was spicy with a lingering sweetness I guessed at being the carrot.
“Yes, and me, I watch over them!” Yvette laughed, and I understood her. She was the supervisor to the children who learned to cook.
And there were several of them. No names were offered, other than the dishes, either because it was assumed I remembered them from the earlier introductions, or because the food was more important at the moment. I smiled and thanked each of them as they served me, Yvette, and Theo. All the others were going and coming with their own food to the table, leading me to guess at a buffet style set-up when they didn’t have company.
I ate in small bites, savoring. The food they were offering was delicious, and simpler than I had feared when I saw the dining set up. I’d never in my life eaten at a fancy Earth place, and once we’d mined enough to set up the hab – just in time for the first babby to come – my Man and I hadn’t set much store on the fancies. Good food, and lots of it. This was flavorful, and although I couldn’t have named much of it, far superior to the simple fare I’d learned to make from vatmeat and hydroponics greens on the faraway hab.
It bore no resemblance at all to the nutrient bars I’d lived off aboard ship. I was afraid to eat too fast, too much, and disgrace myself. The wine I sipped, realized it was potent stuff, and left alone. I’d sworn off alcohol with the Earth a receding round blob of blue in a dirty port’le, and the taste of vomit acid in my mouth. If asked, I’d explain that I was tired and it would make me sleepy.
As it was, after five removes, I was feeling as round as a tick – I’d had to look those up, I remembered, disgusting creatures – and like they would have to roll me away from the table. The last bowl was whisked away, and strains of music arose from the now dark garden. I felt something tickling my forehead, and with the tick still in my mind, reached up wondering if the Glade was wild enough to harbor biting insects… and relaxed when I touched the forgotten flowers.
Yvette caught my movement and giggled. “Redea likes you.”
“She wouldn’t speak to me.” I said. “But the flowers were a sweet gesture.”
“They make you look much younger,” Theo offered. He’d been mostly silent through the meal, across the table from me.
“I…” I had to sort out my reactions to that. “Thank you.”
Yvette was tapping the table to the beat of the music. “Sometimes, we dance. But tonight, I think our guest may wish to sleep.”
She was perceptive. I was far too full, and not looking forward to the trek back to the ship. I was also beginning to fully relax, realizing that my gambit to evade the stowaway from Termine must have been successful. There would have been something. Some sign. I didn’t trust their assurances that physical inoculation was necessary – and they would have had a chance to attack Theo, and Marsh, aboard the ship. Theo, holding his wife’s hand under the table. Marsh, laughing and flirting with a young lady a few seats down the table, and then getting up to dance.
It was all very human, and normal, and I was beginning to feel fuzzy-brained. “Forgive me,” I said to my hostess. “I am very tired.”
“Redea will take you back to your room.” Yvette patted my hand. “I know you have been through so much.”
I opened my mouth to protest, and felt a touch on my arm. I looked around to find Redea smiling at me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept in a real bed… “Thank you.”
Redea was a little more subdued this time, walking with me rather than dancing ahead. We were almost to the door when she stopped, put her hands on her hips, and looked up at me. “Will you tell me a story?”
I blinked in surprise. I had begun to think she wouldn’t talk to me.
“Tomorrow, perhaps?” I said.
She nodded, satisfied. “C’n I ask my sisters?”
An audience didn’t daunt me. “What sort of story would you like?”
She tilted her head, considering. “About animals. Pets, like my kitten Thomas.”
“You have a cat?” We’d had cats on the rock. After a disastrous shipment of loose grains at a cheap price, we’d had mice. Cats were the inevitable answer, and they minded themselves. More like having a teenager around than a toddler, as a dog was.
She nodded.
“I know a story about a cat. The First Cat who was Wild.” I told her. “But I must sleep, or I will forget parts.”
Her eyes widened and she nodded quickly. I continued, opening the door and looking at her over her shoulder. “After breakfast, mind!”
She skipped off into the tunnel, the fairy lights throwing glints off her hair. I’d made sure of the time, lest I awaken in the morning and open my door to a gaggle of girls. I remembered holidays, and little ‘uns, and groggy celebrations.
Inside the room, a dim light let me find my way to the fresher, and I pulled off the clothes, hanging them over the back of a chair before walking into the fresher. I’d have to wear them again tomorrow. C
lothes were going to be a problem if I were here long. By the time I was walking toward the bed, I was almost stumbling. I caught myself on the wall and took another step, before falling deliberately into bed.
I’d no sooner hit the sheets than my brain kicked into overdrive. It was as annoying as the scream of the scooter engine when it overloaded. I liked these people, and I had put them into danger. It had been a cold-blooded decision, to risk a minimum of deaths to test my gamble. Did I regret it? I couldn’t, logically, but there was no stopping the guilt that was sitting on me like five gravities under acceleration. What had I become? What would become of me if I could not die?
The weight on my chest became a physical thing. Surprised, I opened my eyes. In the near dark, I could see a pair of golden eyes just inches from my own. A soft paw pushed at my throat, opening and closing without even the smallest prickle of a claw. He curled the other paw under his chest and started to purr, closing his eyes.
I couldn’t help it. I fell asleep almost immediately. When I woke, the cat had gone. I looked around the room, even in the fresher, and couldn’t find the creature. Reluctantly, I dressed and went out into the Glade. I followed the sound of voices and came out in the clearing. The big table was gone, and it was empty. The voices came from beyond it. I wandered down a likely path, enjoying the light and a small breeze that carried scents of food and flowers. This was a lovely place to live, and I needed to leave it. I couldn’t stay.
Theo stood when I appeared in the opening. Small tables were scattered over a patio of embossed ceramsteel. He and Yvette were sitting at one of them. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I responded “I hope I’m not too late…”
Yvette beckoned, and another of her cooking apprentices came out of a set of swinging doors a moment later carrying a tray. “We knew you needed rest. Marsh is already working on your ship.”
“He’s fine without me.” Theo added, “It’s good for him to do some work alone, he needs the confidence.”
“I’m not worried.” I assured him. “I could see that he knew what to do.”
Jade Star (Tanager Book 1) Page 6
