The Loneliness of Stars
Page 5
~Former Engineer and Professor of History Nikolai Tullas, in an interview regarding his change of profession
It turns out that I was not only to be the cook’s assistant, but the engineers’ as well. I learned that the next morning when Fetherkap came to get me, after having helped Joseph and Ezekiel make breakfast. I was still only half awake (or maybe I was half-asleep?) as I gobbled down half of a breakfast and followed him to the engine room. He told me the floor needed cleaning, grinned, handed me a mop and bucket, and told me to get to work. Cleaning, it seemed, was a duty of the engineeers (app-arently the rest of the crew was supposed to help as well, but rarely did their share), and they were only too happy to have someone to hand much of their own share off to. I sighed and got to work, wondering why they were making me clean with such archaic tools.
As I worked my way (rather slowly – I hadn’t done any cleaning jobs in a long time) around the room, I took in my surroundings. The room was mostly empty – presumably for engine overheating and explosion containment – and was rather large. The engine itself was in the dead center of the room, and Fetherkap had forbidden me from touching it on pain of spacing. I was more than happy to avoid it.
The engine extended from the floor to the ceiling, and consisted of two cylinders, connected to each other by metal bars and thick cables and wires. It gave off a very low hum. A few meters away from the engine apparatus was a wall, slightly shorter than I was. I guessed that it was to protect the engine from saboteurs, but unless it was electrified or something (which was entirely possible), it didn’t look like it would be very effective. In the middle of the wall closest to the door was a series of boxes, like the kind used to cover input panels. There were five of them, and they all stuck out above the wall.
After half an hour or so, I had made it almost to the far corner of the room, which was mostly shrouded in darkness (for such an important room, it was remarkably ill-lit). As I prepared to move out of the corner, the engine room door opened. Peering towards it, I saw Korzos walk in, looking around. Apparently satisfied, he walked up to the engine, opened up one of the boxes, and placed something in it. A small smile touched his lips, and I shivered. It was not a friendly smile. He closed the box and walked out. I had a feeling that I wasn’t supposed to have seen that.
After several minutes of silence and very slow thoughts (not to mention motionlessness), I decided that it was none of my business and that I should trust the captain – after all, he was the Jeremiah E. Korzos – and I continued cleaning. I was just about to exit my dark corner when the door opened again. I froze.
It was the first mate, Henry Mather. He looked nervous. He scurried over the box that Korzos had visited, opened it, and took something out of it. He fiddled with it for a few seconds. I shrank further into the shadows. Mather looked around nervously, his brown hair quivering, before pocketing whatever it was and walking quickly out of the room, closing the door behind him. It opened again an instant later, and Mather ran back in, shut the box, then ran back out, again closing the door. I decided to think nothing of it (or rather, ignore it in case I got into trouble), and finished cleaning the room, always keeping an eye on the door.
It took me two more hours to complete, me being rather nervous and stopping every few seconds to make sure that the door wasn’t opening. I was sent to clean a few of the corridors by Daniel, then sent back to the galley to help Joseph prepare for lunch. I wondered if the man ever slept; he had been up well before I awoke, and was still cooking when I went to sleep last night. I noticed for the first time that he wore a thin layer of plastic over his arms. When Ezekiel arrived after doing who knows what, I asked him about it.
“Surely you’ve noticed how hot it is in here? Joseph is human, you know. He does sweat. And no one wants sweat in their food. The plastic prevents that sweat from getting into the food.” I couldn’t argue with that.
After lunch was done, Joseph told Ezekiel and I to take some time off. We did so gladly, and ended up in the cargo bay, talking like we used to. We sat closer than we ever had before, our legs pressed together, and I could feel his breath on my neck when he turned to look at me. I was surprised when he rested his head on my shoulder, but continued talking like he always did. I was acutely conscious of it, but it did not make me uncomfortable. I was so focused on the weight of his head on me that I didn’t hear his next question, and had to ask him to repeat it. He lifted his head, and his face almost touched mine. Hesitantly, he began to move forward, and I did the same. His hand clutched mine as we got closer, and his lips gently touched my own.
I had always heard that first kisses were horrible. It’s true, though at the time I didn’t know it. I thought it was the most wonderful thing in the world. I wanted it to last forever – but, of course, it couldn’t. So it didn’t. When we finally drew away, we looked into each other’s eyes, then hurriedly looked away. I think we both looked like tomatoes. Very vibrantly colored tomatoes.
The door to the cargo hold opened, and we hurriedly unlocked our hands and scooted apart, looking towards the door. Peter Robos and another crewmember I hadn’t met, with hip-length black hair and a matching trench coat, stood there, looking at us. We stared at each other for a few moments, then Ezekiel grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room. The two men walked into the cargo room, closing the door behind them.
Ezekiel and I shared a small smile, and then went to the bridge, to see what was going on there. It was mostly deserted. Korzos and Mather stood in the center (as always), talking to Fineas over the holo. I didn’t look at them for too long. Ivor was in the same place I had seen him last, staring at the captain and mate. Michaela was speaking to Mikhail Nikkelei on the opposite side of the room, and Menthus Crydgar, my fellow Bajan, stood nearby, watching Ivor intently.
Crydgar was younger then he looked. His dark reddish skin was leathery and wrinkled, and his hooked nose gave him the appearance of an eagle. I couldn’t see his eyes as anything other than dark pits, as his dark blue hood obscured most of his face. He held a massive scythe, taller than he was, upright in his right hand, its bottom resting on the floor. The scythe was ceremonial, but it looked like he knew how to use it.
“-lmost at Mediterraneo. We should be there in less than a day, if we want to start there.” It was Fineas, speaking to Korzos and Mather. Korzos turned to Mather. “Think we should?”
Mather shrugged. “Why not? It’s the closest. We might as well be logical about this – our supplies won’t last forever.”
Korzos nodded. “Fair enough. Summon the crew.”
Mather walked over to a nearby console and held down a red button. “All able hands report to the bridge immediately.” His voice echoed over the intercom system down the length of the ship. He let go of the red button and returned to where he had been standing before. People slowly began to trickle in from various parts of the ship, until a flood of them poured in, presumably from one of the messes, about five minutes after the call. I noticed that Joseph wasn’t there. I asked Ezekiel about that. He explained that Joseph, the scientists, and the priest didn’t count as “hands.” Technically, neither did we, but we weren’t going to be told to leave. We were part of the crew, after all. Or at least he was. And I was with him.
The captain began to address the crew. “Alright. We’ve almost approached the first star we were told to examine. There are apparently at least three planetoid objects circling it, so we may actually be landing on a planet. I want everyone to check their suits in the next two hours, and report any damages to Gerald.”
I was still tired, and I began to doze off as Korzos continued. I had missed a fair potion of what he had said by the time Ezekiel noticed and elbowed me awake. “The scientists still can’t determine from which of the seven stars the signal is coming from, but it could be this one. So we’re going to check it out. There are probably several more planets, just too small and close to the star to be able to pick out effectively. Once we get closer, we should be able to pinpoint the signal, i
f it is indeed coming from this star. Questions?”
Someone that I could see in the back had one. I wish I had thought of it myself. “Why is it that the scientists can’t pick up the signal if we’re so close?”
Korzos shrugged. “They say the equipment might have been calibrated incorrectly, so their sensors aren’t as fine-tuned as they could be. I don’t really know – I’m not a scientist. Anything else?”
He answered a few more questions as I thought about his answer. It seemed to lack something. For an instant, Korzos had seemed less than sure of himself. And his response seemed half-hearted and… incomplete. I got the nagging feeling that he was hiding something.
I noticed that Mather seemed unsettled as well. He kept giving Korzos half-hidden, suspicious looks. There was clearly something going on here that I had no business in. As much as I wanted to stay out of it, I had a feeling that I had already been drawn in by what I witnessed in the engine room. But who could I tell?
Korzos called the meeting to an end and everyone scattered in their separate directions. Ezekiel and I hurried down to the galley. Ezekiel told Joseph what was going on, then returned to his room. I followed. He closed the door behind us, then grabbed me and kissed me for all he was worth. Surprised at first, I resisted, then gave in, letting his warmth flow through me. We broke off several seconds later.
“Do you have a suit to check?” I asked him, as he continued to hold me. He let go of me and took a step back. He smiled crookedly. “What makes you think they’d let us lowly people get off the ship?” I admit, I had never thought of that before. I always had imagined everyone on the ship getting off to go exploring. I should have realized that it wouldn’t be like that.
Ezekiel seemed to realize what was going through my head, for he hugged me again. He had certainly gotten bolder over the past day. “Sorry to disappoint you. I know this adventure hasn’t been what you hoped for.”
I looked into his eyes, and held his gaze. I decided now was the time to say something sweet. “Oh, it has been,” I said, and kissed him again, for a long, long time.