The Voyage of the White Cloud

by M. Darusha Wehm

  “I don’t understand,” Steve said.

  “You think I’ve given something up to be with you,” Keith said, “you think I want to live like everyone else and you’re the only one who wants a different life? Well, I didn’t ask you to live with me, ask you to have a child with me, ask you to be my partner, as a favour to you. It was what I wanted. It is what I want.”

  “But,” Steve said, a flush starting to colour her cheeks, “we’re not really partners.”

  “Oh, yes, we are,” Keith said. “Fucking doesn’t make you someone’s partner. Working together, making a home and a life together, that’s what makes people a family. And that’s what we are.” He stared at her, the rest of the room vanishing as the adrenaline narrowed his vision.

  “You mean that,” she said, no hint of a question in her voice. He nodded. Time passed, seconds probably. To Keith, it felt like an entire universe could have been born, expanded, contracted and died. Finally, Steve broke into a grin and a belly laugh escaped her lips.

  “I’ve never heard you say ‘fuck’ before,” she said, still laughing. It broke the spell on Keith and he began to laugh, too.

  “Mom,” Ryan said, and Keith turned to see him standing in the doorway of his room. “Are you fighting?”

  “No, honey,” Steve said, smiling. “Your dad was just explaining something to me. Sometimes I can be a little slow.” She reached over and took Keith’s hand, squeezed for a nanosecond, then let it go. Ryan frowned but then nodded solemnly.

  “Okay,” he said. “Andra’s parent fight a lot. Nancy’s too.”

  Keith caught Steve’s eye and it was like looking back in time, at the friend he knew now that he’d loved his whole life. And he knew that even if no one else understood their relationship, this was it, the real thing.

  “Well,” he said, “we’re not like other parents.”

  Ryan walked over to them, climbed up on Keith’s knee and looked back and forth between them both. “Good,” he said.

  The Voyage of the White Cloud

  A superstitious people would say

  “We have been blessed”

  “Fortune has smiled upon us”

  Revering the gods of stories

  * * *

  We instead praise careful planning

  intelligence and industry

  They are the new gods

  Who dwell beside us on our journey

  * * *

  “O, industrious comrades of the past,”

  I cry when my mind is weary of the vast unchanging horizon

  And my body aches from the creak and sway of the hull

  “Be with me now,

  That we might make this endless voyage

  A song of spirit as well as body.”

  Part 3

  Forward Thrust

  Chapter 15

  The New Man

  Oki was in her usual position: feet up on the console, chair leaned back, reading. This time it was a translation of The Arabian Nights, but she wasn’t particular. She would read pretty much anything. She had a system—she would read a couple of minutes, scan the screens to make sure nothing had gone screwy, then read some more. Every watch, every day, always the same. She was very well-read.

  She heard the sound of someone entering the bridge, but didn’t bother to look up from her tablet. It was about the right time for Jenn to come on watch and they’d long since bothered with pleasantries. Why talk if there’s nothing to say? She finished her section and put down her handheld. She raised her arms over her head as the chair sprang forward, planted her feet on the deck and stretched. She tilted her head from side to side, and heard her neck crack. It felt good. She stood and saw Jenn at her station, going over the charts. The other woman didn’t look up as Oki walked off the bridge and stepped down the ladder toward her quarters.

  It was about the middle of her shift the next day, when Oki was startled by a voice from the companionway. “Have your heard the news?” It was Jenn; it wasn’t time for her watch and she was talking as she climbed the stairs. Oki dropped her handheld and sprang out of her chair.

  “What?” she asked, curiosity, fear and annoyance competing for dominance. “Is there a problem?”

  She could just see Jenn’s head poke up in the companionway and had to wait an agonizing second before the woman was on the bridge deck proper. She didn’t look like whatever it was was life-threatening, so Oki let the fear go.

  “Maybe,” Jenn said. “We’re getting a new crew member.”

  This wasn’t news to Oki. Captain Selani was nearly a hundred years old, and while there were no indications that there was anything wrong with her mind, she had been talking retirement for a few years already. They all knew that soon Ship’s Mate Ana Lio would become captain and someone else would join the crew as the mate. This wasn’t news. “So?” Oki said, frowning.

  “So,” Jenn said. “It’s a man.”

  Oki had a vague memory of the captain and Naomi having a conversation about boy babies. It was years ago, and she hadn’t cared about it at the time. She left Society and became Crew for similar reasons to the rest of them on the bridge—not a one of them fit in with the expectations and requirements for most of the people aboard the White Cloud, the complete lack of interest in having a family being a basic necessity for a life as Crew. The only reason Oki even remembered that the conversation had occurred was that at the time she wondered why they cared. Bits and pieces of the memory filtered back now.

  “It seems too soon to me,” Naomi had said. “We’re only a few generations out. There must be plenty of seed stock left. This is unnecessary and will create no end of problems, I know it.”

  “I’m not entirely sure what the fuss is all about,” the captain said. “People are people and it’s not like they’d be treated any different. There are plenty of people who transition now anyway. Before I was Crew, one of the people in the quarters next door was a man. It was fine.”

  “That’s not the same,” Naomi said, and that was about when Oki stopped listening. Gender and sex baffled her, even in stories. She understood the literary device of desire and longing that romance created, and the sense of difference between men and women, but they were both as foreign as mountains and rivers and deserts.

  She pulled her attention back to the present, and sat down. “So, they started having male children?”

  Jenn nodded. “A while back. It didn’t seem important—I mean, it never occurred to me that one of them would end up here. I mean…” she looked around the bridge. “It’s always just been us.”

  Oki thought about what Jenn was saying. She listened to the words, but also to the words she didn’t say, the silences, the pauses, the ideas in between the words. She watched Jenn’s face, her body. Honestly, Oki usually didn’t pay much attention to her crewmates, but when she did pay attention, she really paid attention. “You’re afraid,” she said, finally, after analyzing Jenn’s statement. “Why?”

  Jenn looked down and a flush rose in her face. “I don’t know,” she said, and Oki had to strain to hear her even though they were quite close and the bridge wasn’t loud. “He’ll be... different.”

  “You must have encountered a man before,” Oki said.

  Jenn shrugged her shoulders. “This isn’t the same thing. Natural-born males—their bodies... they aren’t like us, Oki. You must know, must have read about it.”

  Oki shrugged. “The Committee wouldn’t send someone who can’t handle crew life.”

  Jenn didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue. After all, Oki thought, what would be the point? The existing crew had never had a say in choosing a new member before, it didn’t seem likely that would change now. And, of course, there had to be a first time for everything.

  “I’m sure you’ve all heard the news by now,” the captain said, her hands clinging to the mug siting in front of her. Oki sometimes wondered why Teena Selani had been chosen as captain. She had always seemed uncomfortable in a group, had no natural leadershi
p qualities that Oki could recognize. Under her watch the crew rarely held the kind of meeting where all would gather in one place—Captain Selani seemed to prefer to speak one-on-one or to catch two crew members at watch change if they needed to talk.

  But the same day that Jenn had interrupted Oki’s watch to tell her the news, Captain Selani had called for all hands on deck. The six of them crowded on to the bridge, most of them leaning against bulkheads or half-seated on the ledge of a console. “I’ll be retiring at the end of this year, and that means a new crew member has been chosen. His name is Matthew Peelu. He was one of the first generation of biologically born males on board the ship. He will be joining us in two weeks.”

  No one said a word. Oki looked around the semi-circular space at the faces of her crewmates. The captain had been right—they had all heard the rumour before she called the meeting, but Oki could tell that a few of them hadn’t believed it. Cat’s face was a mask of neutrality, which Oki knew meant that she was holding back some kind of strong emotion. At the other end of the spectrum, Ana looked openly disgusted, but said nothing. She must have already said her piece privately to the captain before the meeting. As the new captain, she would have to interact most closely with the new mate.

  Evie was the first to say something. “He must be young; there weren’t any boy babies when I was in Society.” Evie was the most recent crew member to join, and at just over fifty years old, was the youngest as well.

  The captain nodded. “He is. Very young. Just in his twenties.” This was news, and there were gasps around the room.

  “I don’t understand,” Cat said. “Has anyone that young ever become Crew before?”

  The captain nodded. “It’s not as unusual as it seems,” she said. “The first crew, obviously, were young. Leaving one’s homeworld is, after all, an adventure for youth. But there have been others.” She sipped from her mug and looked around the bridge. Her brown eyes lit on each person in turn, and Oki felt something very much like an almost familial concern from the old woman. It gave her the warm feeling in her chest that she imagined when she read stories about love.

  “I hope that none of you is under the misapprehension that the main reason any of us were chosen for Crew was a special ability with stellar cartography or engine calibration.” There were flushed faces and avoided glances, but the captain’s smile held no trace of cruelty. “This is a starship. We have more than our share of bright minds with nothing more pressing to investigate than our home’s ultimate purpose. No, all of us, me as much as any of you, are here,” she pointed at the main bridge console, “because we simply can’t be there.” Now the captain pointed down at the deck, but everyone knew she meant the main part of the ship. Society.

  “We are, all of us, outcasts of our own making,” she said, “and we prefer exile to that feeling of unbelonging we all shared down there. Is it so hard to imagine,” she went on, “that someone born so different from the rest of Society, someone whose very existence is reviled by some people who should call him family, might want to escape just as we have?”

  Oki had just finished The Taming of the Shrew and was into the first chapter of Eoin’s Butterfly when she noticed that there was more ambient noise than usual. She was off-watch, in her quarters, but the door to the corridor wasn’t soundproof and she could hear what sounded like the entire crew in the hall. She knitted her brow, marked her place in the text and put down her handheld. Ah, yes. The new crew member. That was today.

  She left her quarters and followed the sound to the lock. The last time she had been here was when Evie arrived. How long ago had that been? Oki wasn’t sure. She didn’t understand other people’s fascination with the passage of time. Each day was fundamentally the same as the day before and the day to come, and so it would be until she was too old to do her work. It was no different for the others, yet they seemed compelled to count each day as if the number were some sacred symbol.

  The rest of the crew were already waiting by the lock when Oki arrived. “I was wondering if we’d have to come and get you,” Ana said, her face tight. “We have to treat this as is it were a normal crew addition.”

  Captain Selani turned to face the mate. “Ana,” she said. “It is normal. We need crew, we’re getting crew. There’s nothing unusual here.”

  “Nothing unusual?” Naomi interrupted. “Captain, you can pretend that this is just another day if you want to but that won’t change the reality. Not only is a crew addition one of the most disruptive things that ever happens here, but to be getting a… to be getting… him. It’s about as normal as being hit by an asteroid.”

  The captain opened her mouth, but whether it was to argue, explain or rebuke would remain unknown because the deep, sonorous tone of the lock sounded. All six women took a step back from the door, and even Oki noticed that she was holding her breath and her heart was beating faster than usual. Naomi was right, this was among the most exciting things that happened on the bridge—and anything exciting was also terrifying. As the lock began to cycle, Oki briefly had the incongruous thought to wonder what he would look like.

  She wasn’t sure who gasped, but someone did as the lock turned and a very ordinary-looking woman in a uniform stood in the centre. “Is that…” someone said, but was cut off by the woman stepping forward to the edge of the lock.

  “Greetings from the people of the White Cloud,” she said. “I am Navindra Mala, chair of the Crew Committee. We are here to introduce your newest member—Matthew Peelu.” She stood to one side and another lock behind her cycled open. This time, there were no gasps, although even Oki was stunned at the new crew member’s appearance. She remembered transitioned men from her time in Society and had seen images of biological males in stories from old Earth. She knew the ways in which their bodies were different, had read about how their hormones and upbringings made them unlike women. But that hadn’t prepared her for—him.

  He looked utterly ordinary and so terribly afraid.

  “Welcome to the crew,” the captain said, and Oki thought she could hear something odd in the older woman’s voice. “We’ll get you settled in your quarters, then you and I will have a private conversation. There aren’t many of us, but we are in each other’s pockets a bit up here and it can feel a little overwhelming at first. I remember my first day all those years ago—it was terrifying.” She turned to face the women on the bridge. “Now give Matthew a little space, will you? There will be plenty of time for meeting and greeting later.” They each took a step or two back, but none of them tore their eyes from the new addition. Oki remembered that it had been the same when Evie arrived and she remembered her own first day. She had been as terrified as Matthew now looked.

  “Hello,” he said, his hands visibly trembling. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

  Navindra, the Crew Committee chair, stepped forward again. Oki had forgotten all about her. “We are confident that Matthew will be a fine addition to the crew, and we want to take this opportunity to thank each of you for your selfless commitment to this ship and its mission. Without,” she turned pointedly at Matthew, who was nearly hiding behind the captain, “people like you, who are willing to give up family and community, we would never get anywhere.”

  The captain mumbled the appropriate reply and then the lock cycled shut. Oki caught the new crew member’s eye and tried to identify what she saw there. Fear? Relief? Something unidentifiably masculine? She didn’t know, but for the first time in as long as she could remember, she was intrigued by another human who lived outside the text of a story.

  Oki waited an hour then went to the galley with her tablet. She’d read several chapters when she felt rather than saw a shadow in the doorway. She looked up, but it was only Jenn.

  “Anything new in here from the Committee?” she asked, opening the hatch to the food bin.

  “I don’t know,” Oki said, “I haven’t looked.”

  Jenn stopped her rummaging and turned to Oki. “If you aren’t here for food,
then why are you here?”

  Oki wasn’t sure how to answer that question. She knew the answer, of course—she was hoping to talk to Matthew. But for reasons she couldn’t articulate to herself, she didn’t want to tell Jenn. She felt, for the first time in a long time since she had become a part of the Crew, uncomfortable with another person.

  She stood and said, “I’ll go.”

  “No,” Jenn said, “you don’t have to. I—“ She turned away from Oki and leaned against the food storage unit. “I’m not really hungry, either. I guess I’m curious.”

  Oki sat back down and stared at her hands. Then, she picked up her tablet and continued to read. After a moment, Jenn sat down and picked up her tablet as well. They waited for hours. By the time he arrived in the galley, Evie had joined them as well. The look on his face when he saw half the crew in the small room made Oki feel guilty.

  She stood and walked to the storage unit. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “The Committee provides fresh food—it appears here. We don’t get a lot of choice but it is always good quality.” She opened the unit and looked inside. “There is bread and cheese and some vegetables.”

  “Thank you,” Matthew said, his voice quivering. He still had not stepped over the threshold into the room. “Um, do you usually eat meals together in... in here? The Committee told me...”

  “No,” Jenn said. “This is unusual. We were...” she looked around and caught Oki’s eye. “We were curious. I’m sorry.” She took a step toward the door and Matthew seemed to jump back to let her pass. Evie stood then as well, and slipped out the door.