Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing

by George R. Shirer

  He smiled, a little sadly, then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Like I said, the most honest person I know.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Such a romantic!”

  Leaning forward, she gave him a proper kiss. Despite being taken by surprise, John reacted automatically, returning the kiss. Uqqex tasted vaguely like chocolate. When they separated, both of them were flushed and keenly aware of Ked, standing by the transport’s hatch, gaping at them.

  Uqqex grinned. “Let’s see if they keep calling you the Lonely Heart after that!”

  Epcott just laughed.

  Clearsky

  5819

  Junian Calendar

  “Napiso is little more than a rock,” declaimed Jusip Val. “It orbits a dim red giant in what passes for the habitable zone. The planet has a thin atmosphere, a gravity that’s barely half-standard, and its surface is frequently bathed in intense radiation from the star. There is no native life, not even soil bacteria.”

  “But there’s a colony there,” said Nutip Fe, First Officer of the Harmonious Maiden.

  Jusip Val nodded. “Seven hundred sixty-one people, First.”

  “Why?”

  The First Scientist grinned. “Vepucite.”

  Nutip’s brow furrowed. “You’re joking.”

  “Not at all,” said Jusip Val. “Vepucite was discovered there over seventy-nine years ago by the Dev-Miwa Multiworld Cooperative.”

  “And they’re still mining?”

  “No,” said the scientist. “The vepucite was exhausted about fifty years ago. But some of the mineworkers decided to stay on Napiso. Hence, Napiso Colony.”

  The First leaned back in his chair. Nutip Fe was a handsome man in his fourth decade, with shoulder-length, pale blue hair and a natural aura of leadership. He stroked his chin, thoughtfully. “How do you think they’ll react to their new neighbors?”

  Jusip Val shrugged. “Hard to say, sir. The Devotees of Oba usually keep to themselves. That may be why they chose to come to Napiso. You can’t get much more isolated than this.”

  “Not unless you go to Visopa Colony,” said the First.

  “True.”

  Fe shifted in his seat. Before him, the command of the Harmonious Maiden stretched, the wallscreens inert, as the ship hurtled through shiftspace. Usually, Fe found the drab, gray surfaces reassuring, but today they were a reminder of his vessel’s guests.

  At the request of the Colonial Authority, the Harmonious Maiden had been assigned the duty of transporting a group of devotees to their new home on Napiso Colony. Normally, Fe would have been perfectly happy to transport colonists, but the Devotees of Oba made him uneasy. And he knew that he wasn’t the only one aboard the Maiden to feel that way.

  Not that any of his crew would express that unease. They were professionals, every one of them. The thought of his crew sent a surge of warmth through Nutip Fe. He glanced around the command, allowing himself a slight smile.

  To his right sat Jusip Val, his First Scientist and Third Officer. Val was stoop-shouldered and thin with long hair that had turned prematurely white. Only his eyebrows, red as fire, suggested that the man was not as old as he appeared.

  Zunova Neyopi sat at Fe’s left. A veteran of the Dilatan Border Conflicts, she kept her yellow hair painfully short, with frequent trips to the surgeon-barber. As Fe’s Second Officer and First Defender, they had knocked heads when the mission began. She thought he was too reckless; he thought she was overly cautious. Slowly, they had found enough common ground to grow a complicated and intimate relationship.

  Beyond these two, seated at workstations extruded from the command’s walls were specialists and technicians, busy monitoring the ship’s systems. Most had been with the Maiden since her departure from Juni, almost three years ago. They, and their shipmates, had been handpicked by either Fe or his officers.

  All, Fe thought bitterly, but one.

  * * * * *

  “One Sunset Tornado.”

  John pushed the swirling orange and yellow concoction across the bar toward Tig Lemo. The twenty-two year old scientific specialist picked up the drink with caution. He looked across the bar at Epcott. The human was leaning against the bar, grinning. Taking a nervous breath, Tig raised the glass and took a tentative sip. His black eyes widened in shock.

  “It’s good!”

  John’s dark eyebrows shot up in amusement. “You don’t have to sound so shocked.”

  Grinning, Tig took a deep drink. “Have you forgotten how many of your experiments I’ve tried? How many have made me sick?”

  The human chuckled. “No, I haven’t. Have you forgotten how many times I’ve had to clean up after you?”

  Tig felt his fingers throb with blood. He curled them around the cool glass, raised it in salute. “Well, here’s to a very tasty success. Really, John, this is delicious! What’s in it?”

  “Oh, a little of this, a little of that.”

  “I’d be worried if I were you, Tig. John’s being evasive.”

  Tig turned to grin at the woman who sat next to him. Evodu Tof was more handsome than pretty. She had long, dark blue hair framing a pale face with coarse skin. Her pores were enormous. The eyepaint around her eyes was green and yellow with just a dash of sparkle powder.

  She grinned at John. “Am I going to have to rush Tig to the infirmary again?”

  “Not this time.”

  “You should really try this, Evodu,” said Tig. He pushed the drink toward her. “It’s great!”

  Warily, she eyed the glass. “Really?”

  Tig nodded. “Can I have another, John?”

  “Hold on,” said Evodu. She held out her hand. “Handscanner, please.”

  Reaching beneath the bar, John produced the glove-like device. Evodu slid it on and stuck a finger into the glass. Drawing her hand back, she eyed the analysis streaming across the back of the handscanner. Her eyes widened.

  “Sweet pantheon! There’s blissfruit in this!” She gaped at John. “Where did you get your hands on that?”

  John glanced down at his fingernails. “I know a guy.”

  Evodu tapped the bar. “Fine. Give.”

  Grinning, John turned and mixed another Sunset Tornado. He slid the finished concoction to Evodu who took it, sipped carefully and shook her head. “Lonelies, man. You’ve actually done it. You’ve actually come up with a new drink that’s actually decent. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” said John. He picked up a sanitizer and began to run it over the bar’s pale orange surface. “Think that’ll get me into Fe’s good graces?”

  “Do you really care about that?” asked Evodu.

  “No,” admitted John. “To be honest, I don’t much care what the First thinks of me.”

  Tig frowned. “John, I really doubt if the First bears you any ill will.”

  “And if he does, it’s not his fault,” said John. “He’s just a xeno. Right?”

  Evodu frowned, glanced around. The crew hall was largely empty, but shift change had just started and soon the place would be packed. “I think,” she said, carefully, “that it would be a wise idea to change the topic.”

  John nodded, and then grinned at her. “You know, Evodu, I think you missed your calling. Instead of medicine you should have gone into diplomacy.”

  She rolled her eyes and took another swig of the Sunset Tornado.

  “So, now that you’ve invented a good drink, John, what are you going to do next?” asked Tig.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Finger foods?”

  Evodu nearly choked on her drink.

  * * * * *

  Sixth Allocator Pim Nomev stepped into the workspace of his immediate superior, a PIN in one hand and a cup in the other. “Do you have a minute, Tes?”

  Tes Jebim sniffed the air. “Is that purple tea I smell?”

  Pim grinned and handed the cup to the other man. Tes Jebim was the oldest crewmember aboard the Harmonious Maiden, one of the oldest guardsmen that Pim had ever met. The
man must have been in his sixth or seventh decade. He was short and stout, with dust-colored hair that contrasted startlingly with his dark skin. The old man wore jeweled rings in his ears. Discreet tattoos crawled up from his collar, hinting at a colorful, possibly criminal, past. His eyepaint was monochromatic, a space-black bar covering his eyes.

  “You only bring me purple tea if there’s a problem, Pim,” said the old man. He waved at a chair. “Sit.”

  “It’s not so much a problem, Tes, as a potential problem.”

  “Tell me.”

  Pim hesitated, glancing around. Tes shared his workspace with half a dozen other crewmembers. Most seemed intent on their own work, but you could never be sure. “Could we go private for this?”

  Tes frowned, but touched his workstation’s controls, invoking privacy. The transparent dividers separating his workspace from the others turned opaque. The room became silent as an antisonic field activated.

  “All right. We’re private. Now, what’s got you flustered, Pim?”

  Pim touched his PIN, handed the device to Tes. “I’ve been getting complaints from some of the floaters.”

  “What sort of complaints?” Tes eyed the PIN’s display. It showed the crew rotation schedule.

  “Nothing formal. Not yet. But. . . .”

  “What sort of complaints, guardsman?” asked Tes, frowning now.

  “Some of the crew want to know why John Epcott has been stationed in Crew Services so long.”

  The old man’s dust-colored eyebrows shot up. “That’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell them it’s because the First wants him there,” said Tes.

  Pim frowned. “People know that, Tes. That’s the problem.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “There’s, well, been a lot of talk about the First’s attitude toward Epcott. Some people think he’s being unfair.”

  “Do they?”

  “Yes.”

  “They think our First is being unfair,” repeated Tes. “What do they think about Epcott?”

  Pim shrugged. “At first, some of the floaters weren’t happy with him. They thought he’d got the First to stick him in Crew Services deliberately, but it’s kind of common knowledge now that Epcott would like to rotate out.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that people are complaining on Epcott’s behalf? What about Epcott himself? Has he complained?”

  “People are complaining on their own behalf, Tes. You know the floaters look forward to working in Crew Services. It’s a nice break from working in Defense or whatever.”

  “But Epcott?”

  “As far as I know, he hasn’t said a word to anyone about being stuck in Crew Services. I don’t even think he knows about the complaints.”

  Tes leaned back in his chair. “What do you want me to do about this?”

  “I don’t know,” admitted the younger man. “Push it forward? Maybe let First Allocator Menuv know what’s going on? Maybe she could have an informal word with the First.”

  “Guardsman, have you lost your lonely mind?”

  Pim frowned. “I don’t. . . .”

  “There is no way I’m pushing this forward,” said the old man. “Not through official channels at any rate.”

  “But. . . .”

  “Look, Pim, Epcott’s off the Maiden as soon as we reach Shrouded Jewel.”

  “He is?”

  “Yes,” said Tes. “I got that straight from Menuv herself. Unofficially.”

  “Why?”

  Tes rolled his eyes. “Why do you think, youngster? Because our First is a lonely xenophobe.”

  Pim gaped, his fingers flushing with embarrassment.

  The old man chuckled. “What? You think he’s not? Trust me, Pim. I’ve been with the Guard a long time, seen a lot of officers. The good and the bad. Believe me, our First is not one of the good ones.”

  “Then why did you agree to serve under him?”

  “I didn’t agree to serve under Fe.” Tes sniffed. “I agreed to serve under Menuv.” The old man grinned. “Trust me, boy. She’s the only one on the command who’s going places.”

  Pim sat there, trying to absorb all of this. “You think?”

  Tes’s grin was wide and knowing. “I know. Menuv is Guard Officer material.”

  “And Fe?”

  “A nova. About to burn out and become a sucking black hole. You don’t want to be near him when that happens.”

  Dazedly, Pim nodded. “All right.” He looked at his PIN, lying on Tes’s workstation. “What do I tell the floaters?”

  “Nothing,” said Tes. “But next schedule change, transfer the whiners to Recycling.”

  “What? Why? I can’t. . . .”

  “Because this is the Guard, boy!” snapped Tes Jebim. “Not a crèche! We do what we have to, not what we like! The sooner these floaters realize that, the happier they’ll be!”

  He picked up the PIN and held it out. “Now, get out of here. People probably think we’re having a tryst, you’ve been in here so long.”

  * * * * *

  Halfway through third shift, Zunova Neyopi stepped into the crew hall and found a party in full swing. She wasn’t clear on the reason, but noticed most of the celebrants were downing tall glasses filled with an orange drink. Everyone seemed to be having a very good time. Across the dance floor, Zunova spotted Epili Menuv seated at a crowded table. The First Allocator saw Zunova and waved her over. Chairs were shifted. Zunova was welcomed with grins and raised glasses.

  “A toast,” said Menuv. “To the Sunset Tornado!”

  Laughter erupted from the table and everyone raised their glasses, all of them filled with the same drink that everyone else seemed to be enjoying. A chilled glass was pushed into Zunova’s hand, and she took a cautious sip. Her eyes widened.

  “Sweet pantheon,” muttered the First Defender. “That’s good! What’s in it?”

  “No one knows,” said the man on Zunova’s right. He was young, fit and shirtless. She took a moment to admire the compact musculature of his chest.

  “It’s John Epcott’s discovery,” said a woman with short, dark blue hair going gray at the roots. “He finally got one right.”

  Zunova glanced at Menuv. Her fellow officer was smiling, faintly, as she leaned against an older man with short, yellow hair and lavender eyepaint.

  “Well,” said another woman, red-haired with complicated yellow eyepaint, “it’s not like he’s had anything else to work on.”

  “Mogi, don’t start,” said Menuv’s pillow. He reached across the table and plucked the drink from the redhair’s hand.

  She squawked in protest, but did not fight.

  “Sedim’s right,” said the shirtless man. “No one wants to hear you complain about work rotations. If you’d quit floating. . . .”

  “I like floating,” said the redhair. “I’d get bored sitting in one job all the time.”

  “Quit complaining and dance with me,” said the shirtless man. He stood, took the redhair’s hand, pulled her from the table into the bodies swirling on the dance floor.

  “Do I want to know what that was all about?” asked Zunova. She had to shout to be heard over the music.

  Menuv shrugged. “Probably not.”

  “Mogi’s a complainer,” offered Sedim. He ran his fingers up and down Menuv’s bare arm. “Ignore her. She’ll probably resign when we get back to Juni.”

  “That’s fine with me,” said the woman with the blue hair. “I can’t stand whiners.” She glanced at her timeband and sighed. “My shift’s coming up. I’ll see you all later. Don’t have too much fun without me, kids.”

  “I feel like I killed the party,” said Zunova. Leaning back in her chair, she glanced at the empty seats around the table.

  “Don’t be stupid, Zu,” said Menuv. “Sedim, be a sweet, and get me another drink?”

  He nodded and stood. Zunova raised her eyebrows. Sedim was very tall. Giving the First Defender a friendly smile, he turned and headed for t
he bar across the hall. Menuv watched him go with a lazy grin.

  “I can’t decide if I like Sedim more when he’s walking toward me or away,” she confided. “Both views are so good.”

  Zunova snorted. “You’re such a predator, Epili.”

  “There’s a joke in there somewhere about liking meat, but I’m too demure to make it.”

  The First Defender snorted again. “What was all that about Epcott?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Did you know that you always look down when you lie?”

  Menuv scowled. “My mother used to tell me the same thing, in that same voice.”

  “Epili....”

  The First Allocator sighed, rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’ll tell you.”

  “Thank you.” Zunova leaned forward. “Now talk.”

  “A lot of people have noticed how Nutip has treated Epcott since he came aboard, Zunova, and they don’t care for it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Menuv gave the other woman a hard look. “Don’t play the innocent. You know what I’m talking about. Restricting Epcott to Crew Services.”

  Zunova frowned. “That makes perfect sense. Epcott is only aboard the Maiden until we get to Shrouded Jewel, where he’ll transfer to the Splendid Visitor. There’s no need for him to have access to sensitive systems.”

  “Sensitive systems?” Menuv arched her eyebrows. “Zunova, you’re talking about him as if he’s a Jurkuroi spy.”

  “How do we know he’s not?”

  Menuv stared. “Do you honestly believe that?”

  “He’s certainly not Junian.”

  “Not biologically,” said Menuv, carefully. “But he’s a full citizen. Do you think the Defense Authority would have let him join the Guard if they thought he was a threat?”

  Zunova frowned. “All I know is that I trust the First’s judgment.”

  Menuv’s eyebrows shot up. “Since when?”

  Scowling, Zunova rose from the table. “It’s obvious that we don’t agree on this, Epili. I think it would be best if we didn’t discuss it.”

  “As you wish,” said Menuv.

  Zunova walked away, pushing past Mogi and her shirtless companion as they were returning to the table. Breathless and grinning, the two sat.