Kami undid her safety straps and carefully stood. The man next to her stood too quickly and staggered. She reached out and steadied him with one hand. He offered her a wan smile.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” said Kami. “It’s the gravity shift. Your body needs time to adjust to the change.”
The man laughed. “You think I’d know that by now. I’ve been shipping out from Doorstep for over thirty years. Just too eager to get back to my ship, I suppose.”
He thanked her again, and then carefully made his way toward the airlock. Kami stood for a moment, flexing her toes inside her boots and taking slow, quick breaths. Then she joined the departing crowd.
Doorstep was as busy as ever, to Kami’s eyes. Guard personnel in black and green uniforms hurried about, some in small groups, others alone. People called to one another, laughed, shouted, slapped each other on the back, embraced. Kami drifted through the crowd, too aware that no one was waiting for her.
An infoscreen told her the Dawnwind was moored on the upper ring, and suggested the quickest route. She found the nearest tube and drifted up, through the station’s many levels, until she reached the upper ring. Clambering out of the tube, Kami saw the Dawnwind through a viewport. It clung to the station by its own umbilicus, an oblong vessel, glowing white against the blackness of space.
It did not appear large, but Kami knew that looks could be deceiving. The Dawnwind had science labs, a fully equipped infirmary, industrial synthesizers, and a transport bay. Everything it could reasonably need on its extended mission.
And it will be my home for the next three years, she thought.
Her fingers warmed with emotion. She headed for the gangplank.
* * * * *
Dodimo Lujo, Sixth Officer of the Junian Guard’s Second Fleet, stood in one of Doorstep Station’s observation parlors. Here, the bulkhead walls projected a real-time image of the station’s exterior. It was like looking through glass. He could see the white bulk of Dawnwind, clasped to the station’s upper ring, technicians and engineers in EVA suits scurrying across its surface, carrying out last minute maintenance.
“What do you think of her, Lujo?”
Imes Zetajo, the First Officer of Doorstep Station, stood at the Fleet Officer’s side. Zetajo was in his fourth decade, his red hair framing a lean face. His eyepaint was very conservative, all pallid blues with the barest hint of black.
“She’s impressive,” said Lujo. “The finest piece of engineering I’ve seen in years.”
“That she is. What do you think of her First?”
“A good choice.”
“Really?” Zetajo frowned. “You don’t have reservations about him?”
“No. Why?”
“Several people I know have expressed . . . concerns. About how quickly he’s risen through the ranks.”
Lujo smiled. “Is that all they’re concerned about?”
Zetajo looked uncomfortable. “No. Some have expressed, in private, that they aren’t entirely comfortable with the fact that he’s an alien.”
“And have these people examined Epcott’s service record?”
“I . . . don’t know.”
“They should. His scores were some of the highest the Institute has ever seen. And his field record...” The older man smiled, shook his head. “You heard of the hostilities at Napiso, a few years ago?”
“I saw the newsfeeds,” said Zetajo.
His eyes narrowed for a moment and he rubbed the tips of his fingers together. Sewkari raiders had attacked the colony. Over two hundred people had been killed before a Guard ship arrived on scene, driving the Sewkari off.
“Epcott was aboard the Harmonious Maiden, the ship that responded. The ship the Sewkari fired upon, before fleeing.”
Zetajo frowned. “There was nothing in the feeds about that.”
“Over half the crew was killed. Her chain of command almost obliterated.”
“Merciful pantheon,” murmured Zetajo. “I had no idea.”
“Very few people do,” said Dodimo. “We would have lost the entire crew if Epcott hadn’t rallied them.”
“I wasn’t aware of this.”
“You should review his record,” said the older man. “It makes for interesting reading.”
The station officer raised his eyebrows. “There were similar incidents?”
“Oh yes,” said Lujo, smiling. “Several.”
* * * * *
John Epcott strolled along the promenade of Doorstep Station, oblivious to the curious looks he received from the Junians he passed. He had gotten used to being an object of curiosity several years ago.
His hair attracted the most attention. Black hair was simply unheard of among Junians. Those first few weeks on Juni, people had kept asking him if he was sick. After weeks of patiently explaining that he was perfectly fine, he’d gotten irritated with all the attention and shaved his head.
That had been a huge mistake. Black hair might have been a curiosity, but baldness among the Junians was a sign of imminent death.
When he had commed all this to Jata, expressing his frustration, the response he had gotten back had been unexpected. It consisted of a video of the Undaunted Spirit’s First Scientist rolling around on her bed, laughing hysterically. After that, John had pretty much gotten used to the curious looks and concerned questions.
He paused outside one of the station’s shops. The shop in question was a bookstore, its wallscreen displaying popular literature from a dozen different worlds.
John glanced at his timeband, decided he had enough time for a quick look, and stepped into the store. The interior was brightly lit, the better to display the hot pink shelves, jammed to capacity with books, scrolls and Zerraxi speaking-stones. There were a handful of other patrons. Most were Junians, but John spotted an Archivist from Xoi Gwa as well as a Burjan in a shapeless brown weathercloak.
A clerk approached John, smiling. Her neon blue hair fell in a wild tangle around her cinnamon-colored shoulders. She wore a long mesh dress, the color of polished brass, and matching sandals.
“Can I help you find anything?” she asked him, smiling. Her eyes drifted to his hair.
“Do you have anything by Uqqex of Zerrax?”
“We have her Halls of Ancient Charm,” said the woman. She tilted her head. “May I ask about your hair? It’s just, I’ve never. . . .”
John smiled. “I’m not Junian.”
“Really? You look Junian.”
“I get that all the time,” said John.
The woman laughed and turned, plucked a speaking-stone off a table. It was sheathed in a thin layer of transparent material to prevent it from being activated.
“Here. Uqqex’s Halls of Ancient Charm, in the author’s own voice.”
“Thank you. How much?”
She told him the price. John nodded, pressed his cashring against her register.
“I don’t know if you’re interested, but my personal comm code is on the receipt.”
“Oh?” He flashed a smile. “Do you give that to all of your customers?”
“Just the ones with good taste.”
“I’m actually on my way out of the system,” said John.
“Oh? For how long?”
“Three years.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “So long away!”
They chatted for a few more minutes, before John left. He slid the speaking-stone into his shoulder bag, and hurried along the promenade, weaving in and out of the crowd.
He found a tube going to the upper ring and stepped into it. As he floated up, John shook his head. If someone had told him, twenty years ago that this would be his life, he would have said they were crazy. But here he was, far from Earth, the last human, being chatted up by a pretty, blue-haired alien woman on his way to take command of his own spaceship.
Sometimes, John decided, life really was stranger than fiction.
* * * * *
Temun Sezep, Second Officer of the Dawn
wind, stepped into his quarters and smiled. The room was circular, dominated by a bed big enough for three. The wallscreens were set to a rich, dark purple; the deck was covered by dark orange carpeting. He noted, with pleasure, that his luggage had been placed by one of the storage bins.
The door slid open behind him and Temun turned to see a familiar face. Vetew Siv had joined the Institute in the same year as Temun. They had been classmates and had become good friends, working together on numerous academic projects. Their friendship had survived through shared shore leaves and a flurry of comms. Now, Vetew was the Fourth Officer of the Dawnwind and her First Engineer. Laughing, they brushed palms and embraced.
“Temun, it’s good to see you!” Vetew stepped back, smiling. “You look splendid!”
“Thank you, Vetew. So do you!”
They chatted for a few moments, catching up on family and mutual friends. Vetew ambled over to the bed, sat down with a sigh.
“So, you’re a Second Officer now. I thought you said you never wanted the burden of command.”
“And I still don’t,” admitted Temun. “But this opportunity was too good to let pass.”
“A three-year mission, outsystem?” Vetew’s grin grew wider. “I know! It should be exciting! Don’t you think?”
Temun laughed. “Hopefully not too exciting!” He plopped onto the bed, next to Vetew. “Seeing the Colonies is one thing, but I’d rather stay clear of Sewkari pirates, pantheon willing.”
“Well, if we do run into the Sewkari I’ve heard our First knows how to deal with them. Have you met him yet?”
Temun shook his head. “No, not yet. Have you?”
“No, but I’ve heard he’s impressive. He’s made First faster than anyone in the Guard’s history!”
Temun nodded. “You remember Pimuqi Ese?”
Vetew nodded. “Sure. We had Alien Societies together at the Institute. We worked on a group assertion.”
“She was on the Harmonious Maiden with the First. I asked her about him and Pim just raved. She made him sound like he should be one of the pantheon.”
Vetew’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really.” Temun looked down at his fingers, the tips flushed bright red. “Actually, Vetew, I’m a little nervous about serving with him.”
“You? Nervous? Temun, you’ve never been nervous about anything in your life! You climbed the Fijem Rockface without a rope!”
“Well, I’m nervous about this. I’ve never had prolonged contact with an alien before, and now I’m sharing a bedchamber with one. What if we don’t get along?”
“As long as you don’t steal the covers, Second, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”
Startled, Temun and Vetew leaped to their feet. The First stood in the doorway, smiling, a bag hanging from his right shoulder.
“F...first!” stammered Temun. His fingers throbbed with embarrassment.
Vetew opened his mouth and managed to string a few words together. “First Officer, we were just...that is....”
John chuckled, crossed the floor and greeted Temun. The Second Officer’s pale fingertips were red with embarrassment. He lightly brushed the First’s upraised palms, was surprised at how warm the other man’s skin felt.
“Second Officer Temun Sezep, First. Welcome.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Temun. I understand you’re also First Scientist on this mission?”
Temun’s fingers throbbed. “Yes, sir.”
“What’s your field of expertise?”
“Communications, sir.”
“Did you have Instructor Ofip at the Institute?”
Temun smiled. “Yes, First. During my third year. You trained with her as well?”
“I did. She was very kind to me when I first arrived on Juni.”
He turned to Vetew, and greeted him. “Third Officer, a pleasure to meet you. First Engineer Tuv speaks very highly of you.”
Vetew’s face broke into an enormous grin. “He does?”
“He said you were one of the finest cadets to come through his class in years.”
“I admire First Engineer Tuv very much, sir!” gushed Vetew. “Did he say anything else?”
John’s smile became mischievous. He tapped Vetew’s palms. “He said you played the povop.”
Vetew’s fingers turned bright red. “I play very badly.”
The First laughed. “We’ll have to have a competition to see which of us is truly the worst player. But I should warn you, I’m pretty terrible.” John glanced around the chamber. “This is nice. I think we’ll be very comfortable here, Second. May I call you Temun?”
“Oh. Please, sir.”
“Call me John.”
He walked to the chamber’s other storage bin, opened the door, peered inside. “I don’t suppose you know where my luggage is, do you, Temun?”
“I haven’t seen it, First.”
“John,” reminded the human.
“It may still be in the transport bay, First,” suggested Vetew.
“Hmm. I’ll have to wander down there and look around. And you can call me John as well, Third.”
“Thank you, sir. You must call me Vetew.”
“Well done,” said John. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to walk down to the transport bay and have a look around.”
With a nod and a smile, he turned and left.
“So what did you think of him?” asked Vetew, practically bouncing in place.
Temun smiled. “I liked him. I can see why Pimuqi would speak so highly of him.”
“Yes,” said Vetew, nodding. He grinned at his old friend. “But I wonder how he’ll feel when he discovers you do take all the blankets?”
* * * * *
Hesef Madivo walked through Dawnwind’s infirmary with a frown on his face. By his side scurried a young man who had introduced himself as Dur Cij, Ninth Medic. To Madivo, Cij looked impossibly young.
“When did you leave the Institute, Cij?”
“Two years ago, sir.”
Madivo glanced at the boy. Cij was beaming, an eager look on his face.
Like an abandoned gugu looking for a new pack leader, thought the old man. Great Jeso, give me patience. “What was your last post?”
“Talip Dov Colony, sir.”
Madivo blinked, turned to look at the boy. “I’m sorry? Did you say Talip Dov?”
Cij nodded. His smile had shrunken considerably.
“I didn’t think anyone got out of there alive,” said Madivo, quietly.
“I was one of the lucky ones.”
The smile was completely gone now, and the boy’s gaze was turned inward, staring into the past.
Isolate me, thought Madivo.
He touched Cij’s hand, detected the faintest tremble. The boy looked at the First Medic, and offered a fragile smile.
“I’m sorry for causing you distress, guardsman.”
Cij took the older man’s hand, squeezed it. “That’s all right, sir.”
Maybe, thought Madivo. Maybe not.
He squeezed Cij’s hand in return, nodded at the infirmary walls. “We’re going to have to do something about those.”
The walls were a cheery red with diagonal blue stripes.
“What color scheme would you prefer, First Medic?”
“None. Shut off the displays and lock them down.”
Cij frowned. “Sir?”
“The only active nanotech I want in here is what we’re using on our patients.”
“Don’t you think gray bulkheads will be a bit grim, sir?”
“This is an infirmary, guardsman, not a night club. People who aren’t sick shouldn’t want to spend time here.”
“And the people who are sick, sir?”
“Gray walls might encourage them to recover quicker,” said Madivo.
Cij grinned. “What about your staff?”
“If you feel the walls starting to get to you, go for a walk. Pantheon willing, we won’t have a lot of business to attend to on this voyage.
”
* * * * *
Kami thought that her quarters aboard Dawnwind were lavish. The bedchamber was large and comfortably appointed, the walls set to a shimmering pink. The closets were huge, compared to the storage compartments the ordinary crew was assigned. Her luggage had been brought to her quarters, and Kami had already unpacked. She hadn’t had much: a few mementos from home and other postings, her eyepaints, a jewelry box. Unless she was posted to a planetary facility, Kami never bothered bringing clothes, preferring to wear her uniform.
She was sitting on the bed, considering what to do next, when the door opened and a handsome young man walked inside. He had short, dark blue hair and an impressive physique that his uniform only emphasized.
Smiling, the young man approached Kami and greeted her. “Hello. I’m Fel Ezep, Eighth Officer and Second Defender.”
Kami smiled, stroked his palms. “Kami Guso, Ninth Officer and First Allocator.”
Fel smiled. “It looks like we’re going to be bedmates, Ninth.”
“Please, call me Kami.”
“And you must call me Fel. Have you settled in?”
“I have. The closets are enormous!”
Fel laughed. “Which is yours?”
Kami nodded toward hers and Fel walked to the other one. Pulling open the door, Kami saw his closet was filled almost to capacity with shiny, black cases. She gaped.
Fel laughed. “I wish I had a picture of everyone’s face when they see my stuff.”
Kami shut her mouth and felt her fingertips warming. “You’ve got a lot. What is it all?”
“My life,” said Fel.
He pulled the top case out, set it on the floor. Kneeling, he pressed a genelock and the case opened. Inside, Kami glimpsed a collection of pale seashells, a flat black stone, and childish drawings.
Smiling, Fel set the first case aside and pulled out another one. This one contained books, Zerraxi speaking-stones wrapped in paper, even a cache of old memory-spheres.
Fel brought out all the cases and Kami watched, entranced, as he opened each one to examine its contents. Some of the cases held ordinary things: eyepaint, jewelry, a pale yellow sleeping gown. Others held what Kami assumed were mementos. Strange things, such as an alien animal carved from dark wood, worn leather gloves, a flower apparently made out of amber.
Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing Page 25
