Humans and animals had much in common. That might work out for a little while. “Will he want to give up Medical later, then? I can share, you know.”
She bit her lip and looked away. Was she going to ask him to stay away from Medical permanently?
“No, no. It’ll be fine. Number six will just handle things until you take over. Number six prefers plants and animals and will focus on the gardens and carbon scrubbers once we’re all settled. I’ll introduce you at dinner.”
The book in Luciano’s hands made his forearms ache. He let one arm take its full weight, holding it against his leg. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a physical textbook. It hadn’t been on Dyfed, surely, though they still had them on the mining planet where he’d grown up.
“I look forward to it,” he said. He thudded into the pilot’s chair and opened the book to the table of contents. “I’ll be fine.” He shooed her from the pilot house. God knew she probably had things to do. Plus, he needed to get used to being alone in this cramped box. She clambered down the metal rungs, leaving him to his book and his charge.
He’d make his Queen proud. He’d do his duty as King of the Pilot House.
***
Eventually, though, Luciano needed to eat. Deep down, he could also admit that he needed a break. He could only read for so long, whether or not he was holding a physical book, before his brain needed some outside stimulation. Besides, Rhiannon hadn’t ordered him to remain in the pilot house while reading the manual. She’d only tasked him with understanding it.
He tossed the book down to the main floor as gently as he could and descended the ladder after it. So long as he took it with him, he was still working. He was just working in a different place. Somewhere around here there had to be a kitchen. He could read when he found it.
The endless cold corridors, painted with arrows, seemed to stretch for miles. He’d seen a schematic. He knew the corridors in the crew areas were barely a kilometer, all told. Maybe being lost made a difference in perceived distance?
He dreamed that when he reached the cafeteria, Rhiannon would be waiting for him. She’d be in the center of a red-and-gold painted room, majestic. As he approached, she’d sense him first as a tremble in her personal space. She’d open her arms wide to welcome him, like a painting of Mary. No, like a lover greeting her dearest one after long absence.
He shook his head to get that thought out. It wasn’t allowed. Queens didn’t take lovers from among their Hives. Some never took a lover at all, choosing instead to donate ovae to keep up the population stock. They couldn’t show favoritism. It corrupted a Hive’s dynamic. What he desired could, alas, never be.
But like all Devoted who started their tenures with a romantic love instead of a platonic one, he’d grow out of it. Days and years would pass. They would become family. Maybe, twenty years from now, the Hive as a whole would feel that it was time for Rhiannon to have a child. Maybe, in that hypothetical future, they’d decide Luciano should be the father. Or, perhaps the others would grow out of any romantic attachment, and suggest that Luciano—ever constant—should take on that lover’s role.
It wasn’t something to worry about now. Now he only had to worry about making a sandwich.
Luckily, he’d finally found the right room. At least, it looked like he had. It was bigger than the others he’d peeked into, though it had the same bare floors and empty walls as the rest of the ship. A young man sat on an unpadded bench at the bare steel table in the room’s center.
The young man didn’t look up when Luciano entered. He stayed hunched over his pad, tapping at its screen. Beside him, a half-eaten sandwich sat on a disposable plate, probably taken from one of the restaurants in the spacedock’s main concourse. “That doesn’t make any sense!” The man slapped a hand down on the metal table, then shook out his fingers.
Luciano couldn’t help but notice that those fingers were almost as dark as his own. On a ship full of extra-pale Dyfed natives, Luciano hadn’t expected to see anyone as dark as he. He wondered what the others looked like. There are six of us, and I only know Rhiannon for sure. And now this man.
“Hello,” he said. No need to lead the dog into the yard. They both had a place on this ship.
The man jumped. His mouth’s surprised O made his round face almost comic. “What do you want?”
Luciano crossed to sit beside him. “I just came for a break. Maybe I can help you with whatever you’re working on?”
“I doubt it.” He didn’t sound annoyed, merely dismissive, as though he didn’t trust Luciano’s ability to understand. He tilted the screen to show a graph. The first half described an exponential curve, and the second half abruptly fell off. “What do you know about power curves for Alcubierre tensor jets? As you can see from the graph, everything starts out fine. And then we die as soon as we achieve twice light speed.” His voice’s deep thrum took up residence in Luciano’s bones.
Luciano had been reaching for the pad, but pulled his arms back. “I haven’t got a clue,” he admitted. His fingers twisted with one another. “I’m good at math, though.” They were supposed to be Hive mates. They rallied to Rhiannon’s banner, but without their own bonds, the whole Hive would fall apart and tear their Queen to pieces in the process. Couldn’t they at least try to bond?
The man rolled his eyes. “Good at math?” The way he said it implied that everyone was good at math and he didn’t really need Luciano’s help. Still, they were Hive mates. “Couldn’t hurt to test you out. This one is for Hawking field stability.”
Luciano shrugged. The theory was beyond him, but if the data came from a simulation... “Can I see the equations?”
The man handed over his pad. Everything looked a jumble. He recognized a Hamiltonian in there, but the rest was beyond him. He didn’t have the background. This was why he needed to go to university. He’d get there someday.
“Sorry.” He passed the pad back. “I guess I can’t help you after all.”
The man shrugged. “Diolch,” he said. “You tried.”
Luciano knew that word. Thanks. This man was better than just Dyfed-born, then. He was true Welsh. The original families’ descendants tended to use the language unthinkingly. Luciano had managed to join a Hive with a Welsh Queen and at least one Welsh member! Only in his wildest dreams, the ones where his Test results had made him a neurosurgeon—not just a general medical practitioner—could he have joined a real Welsh Hive.
“Ugh.” The man tossed his pad onto the bench beside him. It clattered on the bare metal. “We could use some cushions, I think.”
As a conversational gambit, it was better than nothing. “I’m going to the Quartermaster’s office tomorrow. I could pick some up.” I’d invite him to come with me, but what’s his name? “I’m Luciano.” He held out his hand to shake.
The man tilted his head to the right and regarded him. This is weird. “It suits you.” He nodded. “I’m Alan.” He took Luciano’s hand and tugged him into an awkward half-hug. I’m not the only one trying to bond with a Hive mate. That’s something. “The equations are for a tensor jet I’m building.”
Where was he building it? Those didn’t fit on ships this size. Did they?
“Aren’t those the size of the Senedd building?”
Alan’s lips curled smugly upward on the left. He gave up on holding in his happiness, and broke into a pleased laugh. Somehow, it made his wide nose look even bigger. “Yep. If I can manage this, everyone will acknowledge my genius. I’ll get a Science and Technology Eisteddfodd Medal to present to our Queen.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Luciano had his own work to do.
He was halfway to the door when Alan called out, “Hey, d’you want the rest of this sandwich? Don’t want to waste it.”
Luciano turned to give the other Devoted an incredulous look. It didn’t do much good. Alan was back to hunching over his pad, not tracking the outside world. I did come here to eat something. But for all that Hives were families, they just
weren’t there at the point of eating each other’s discarded food yet.
“I’m not hungry. I just wanted to stretch my legs.” He could read the Manual Pilot Manual somewhere else. The pilot house was empty and quiet at the moment. This had been a good start.
Chapter Nine: Is Missing!
As are chapters 10-Epilogue. Liked it so far? You know what to do.
About the Author
Janine A. Southard writes speculative fiction and videogame dialogue from her home in Seattle, WA. She sings with a Celtic band and is working on the next book in the Hive Queen universe. She’s also been known to read aloud to her cat.
The cat appreciates all of these things. Maybe.
Visit her on the Web: http://www.janinesouthard.com
Interact on Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/jani_s
Queen & Commander (Hive Queen Saga, #1) Page 6
