This Work Is Part Of A Series (The Messenger Archive Book 2)

by DC Bastien

  "We don't usually find that offensive," Loap said, reassuringly. "Unless we express a preference and find it repeatedly ignored, not forgotten."

  "Good to know."

  "We... we want to have a clutch," Faria finally admitted. "We want to bring up our children together. But it is... it is difficult to find a receptive nadir, without a zenith. And... and if we found a zenith, then... then the clutch would not be ours."

  Saidhe tried to work that through. "So... you guys... don't often get to have children?"

  Loap's rattle of displeasure was painful to hear. "It is an unfortunate truth. There are fewer nadirs and zeniths than there are the others, and as such they are often... selective. They are traditionally the most fertile, and a nadir is essential for a healthy clutch. So many of the others..."

  "...we get ignored," Faria said, his eyes anywhere but on them. "Even though we'd be wonderful parents, and we're devoted to one another."

  "Couldn't you... both have sets of children? And bring them up together?" Saidhe asked. "Like... adopt the other's kids?"

  "We could," Faria admitted, "...but we... we wanted to share our heritage with one another. It... means a lot to us."

  "That will cause problems for you," Loap surmised. "You've had requests rejected?"

  "If they answer them at all." The young Roq looked about ready to do whatever their equivalent of crying was. Saidhe had never seen any of their specoes really distressed before, they were usually so... reserved.

  "How do you think I could help you?"

  This was when Faria shrunk down to almost the size of a Kior Dhalia. "I... you are... Hale."

  Saidhe watched the unspoken communication going on between them, now, and cottoned on only moments after they did. "You want him to have children with you both, without a nadir?"

  "It... it's not unheard of..."

  "It's not unheard of, but you know what happened to the Hales," Loap answered, his voice the very picture of perfectly level. "Our name is vilified more than it is honoured, and if you truly wanted a strong family line with your partner, you would be guaranteed a poor number if I joined you."

  "What other choice do we have?" Faria exclaimed. "We've asked everyone we can. No one will listen to our proposal. We don't want stillborn children, but we won't get any children like this. I know... I know it will lead to some shame for us, but also some honour, too. Your name is revered as well as reviled."

  "Even if I wanted to, I am not the person to ask. I am the last zenith of zenith stock. I am the final step, the... dead end."

  "So?"

  "There are no others like me for me to carry on the tradition of my line's founders. The tradition will die with me. If I were to clutch with others - with or without a nadir - I would dishonour that decision, too."

  "Wait," Saidhe said. "So you're saying you won't have kids because it would be an insult to your heritage, but also that you don't believe in your heritage? Because I'm confused. Either you agree, and you're going to stay celibate... or you disagree, and you want kids?"

  "I could also disagree and not wish children, but... it is more complicated than that. I would not continue the zenith-only line, but I also could not ignore the decisions that went into my past. It would be a dishonour, a... rejection of who I was. I am who I am. If my family had not chosen the path they did, I would not exist. I cannot hate myself for being."

  "So... you won't help us?" Faria looked crestfallen, and he pushed up to his feet. "Then I am sorry for mis-speaking."

  Loap caught his wrist, carefully. "You did not. You asked an honest question, and I gave an honest answer. I meant no disrespect to you with my decision."

  "And... and I take none. But I would rather take my shame and leave."

  "There... there is another option. I have a cousin, a nadir. She is Hale, but she is mixed heritage. She is reaching the end of her fertile period, and she does not clutch often. She does, however, have a weakness for true love. If I contact her, there is a chance she might be receptive to a liaison."

  Saidhe nearly clapped a hand to her mouth. That... that sounded good. "Sorry," she said, sheepishly. "I got excited."

  "I... really?" Faria's multifaceted eyes swirled quickly, tracking Loap's face for deception, his tongue visible in the slightest slit of his mouth. "You would do that for us?"

  "I would. I cannot promise she would agree, but she has always been a reasonable and generous soul. Her name is Hale Joal. I will give you her details."

  Faria nodded over and over, his neck nearly snapping from the enthusiasm behind the gesture. "That would be wonderful! Wonderful... but... what could we do for such a favour?"

  "Nothing, yet. We're trying to find our friends. We're going to need some help, when we work out where they've gone."

  "Anything!"

  "Don't be too quick to say 'anything'," Saidhe said, with a slanted grin. "You don't know who the boss is."

  "For a chance at children, we would take on the Sianar Za himself."

  "Funny you should say that..."

  ***

  [Sianor: I know, I know, it's a cheap shot, but I love dramatic irony.]

  [Ashroe: And, apparently, you don't sleep.]

  [Sianor: Last night was a bit of a bust. I think I got so worked up about it, and then when it happened I just... deflated. So I went to bed.]

  [Ashroe: Did you have batteries?]

  [Sianor: Batt-- oh. No! I didn't have any in. I'm gonna have to get some. Uh... do you think it's actually... good?]

  [Ashroe: I have no clue, I was hoping you'd tell me before I forked out for shipping to here.]

  [Sianor: LMFAO, so we could have the same one?]

  [Ashroe: Well, why not?]

  [Sianor: OK, I will be sure to give you a review. Uhm. You're not expecting... cam are you?]

  [Ashroe: Oh, er, no. Sorry, I now realise that my gift could well have been taken the wrong way.]

  [Sianor: Literally.]

  [Ashroe: Burn. Another cheap shot.]

  [Sianor: I am on a roll tonight. Don't worry, my sensibilities are not offended.]

  [Ashroe: Good. I punch much harder when I want to make little girls cry. But it doesn't take as much to make the boys blub.]

  [Sianor: My girlfriend, the psycho hero.]

  [Ashroe: You knew what you were getting into when you asked me for a 99!]

  [Sianor: Is that... wait. I'm confused. I know about 69, but 99?]

  [Ashroe: It's when you put a flake in it.]

  [Sianor: WTF?]

  [Ashroe: LMGTFY.]

  [Sianor: Ahhhhh. I see, now. OK. I didn't realise it was an icecream thing. I mean, a real icecream thing.]

  [Ashroe: Filthy pervert, I wasn't actually propositioning you for sex. Although... if we did try to 99 without a strapon, wouldn't it just be cuddling? Spooning?]

  [Sianor: I'm not averse to that!]

  [Ashroe: Oh! Do you guys have takeaway menus with numbers next to the food? Like, if you order Chinese?]

  [Sianor: Yes... why?]

  [Ashroe: I just thought of a kinky sex game. Like, you pick a random number, then you get the menu out and see the name of it. Then you have to come up with a sex act that honours the food.]

  [Sianor: Like... rack of ribs?]

  [Ashroe: Ahaha, yes! Or drunken duck.]

  [Sianor: Wait, wait, I got a good one: Weeping tiger.]

  [Ashroe: Weeping tiger, scrambled dragon. Or eggs. Scrambled eggs.]

  [Sianor: That last one sounds painful.]

  [Ashroe: When we go out for our first date, we're going to be making everyone uncomfortable by getting overly excited by the names of dishes.]

  [Sianor: Is the world ready for that?]

  [Ashroe: For a meat feast, a butterfly chicken and an apple turnover?]

  [Sianor: Now I'm hungry! Bitch!]

  [Ashroe: Go make me a sammich, then. I want a BLT. You can make the letters stand for whatever you want.]

  [Sianor: I don't want to know.]

  ***

  Va
dim felt like he hadn't slept at all, but that was patently untrue. He could tell, because he was waking up right now. 'Waking up' was a nice way of putting it: his eyes felt gummed shut, his lips cracked, his head pounding and he felt vaguely sea-sick. It wasn't until he managed to open his eyes and push up to a sit that he worked out why.

  Underwater. Yes. That's where he was. Rather a long way underwater, where busting open the airlock would lead to him drowning. He probably wouldn't even manage to swim a few feet of the vast distance towards the surface, because the pressure down this low would crush him. Yep. Water.

  Vadim did not like water. Spaceships were fine. Waterships were things of Satan.

  "Coffee," said an amused voice, and then a cup was before him. He grabbed at it, and downed the black liquid before it had a chance to burn the sides of his craw. "There's more when you're dressed."

  "...'m dressed," he mumbled, pushing up to his feet. He was. He had pants on. Pants and a creased undershirt. He didn't remember taking the rest off, but he must have. "What more do you want?"

  Avery was smiling at him. Smirking. He was sure of that, even though the visual stimulus and input was being accepted and not yet processed. Avery was normally smirking. It was sort of his default expression.

  "From you first thing in the morning? Very little, Kip. Splash water on your face, and come find me and the Judge."

  Vadim sighed, waiting for Avery to leave. Sure, the man had seen him naked... even before they wound up in bed together... but there were certain things that were sacred, or sacrilegious, or something. And taking advantage of a man exhausted was beyond the pale.

  He pushed up to his feet and staggered the short distance to the sink. The tap went on and liquid came out, and then Vadim was left wondering where the liquid came from and went to and he decided ignorance was bliss and splashed some more. Then he took a piss. He should probably have done that first, but he wasn't really thinking straight. He washed his hands again, and pushed some through his hair, making it even more of a mess. He looked in the little mirror and sighed.

  Well, at least he knew Avery hadn't taken advantage of him. As if... but he was probably marginally safe from his charms when he looked like shit. It wasn't that he was... against it. Or that he regretted it. It was... it was just a bit weird around Peters, a bit like kissing your girlfriend - or boyfriend - on your parents' couch. Just... wrong situationally, not inherently.

  The Captain pulled on one of the overshirts Avery had left for him, leaving it unbuttoned. The place wasn't all that big, which he tried not to dwell on, in case it made him feel claustrophobic. Water was just as evil as vacuum.

  In the small dining room Avery was eating some toast, and Peters was nursing the kettle.

  "Good morning, sunshine," Ithon called out, his usual too-cheery self.

  "What time is it, actually?"

  "In relation to your ship's time, it's approximately six-thirty," Avery offered. "Give or take. It's been a while since I talked to Mes."

  "...you talk to my ship?"

  "Sometimes."

  "Why?"

  "Gentlemen, perhaps you could save the domestics until later?" the Judge said, his soft voice cutting in between them without ever needing to lift.

  Vadim winced, and then pushed into the chair opposite Avery. Who then proceeded to play footsie where the Judge couldn't see... so he stomped on his instep, and was gratified by the colour the Enforcer went.

  "The pair of you need to get over yourselves," Peters sighed. "But I'm not going to be the one to hold you by the scruffs until you play nice. If you'd be so kind as to concentrate while we hold our important discussion, you will have plenty of time to flirt later."

  "I wasn't--!" Vadim started, but a foot on his instep made him yelp.

  And then growl. Because Ithon hadn't made a noise, and now they weren't even.

  "I've found them," the Judge said, before they could cause any more damage to one another.

  That got his attention. Vadim whirled his chair around, making a terrible scraping sound of metal on metal. "Where? How?"

  "The last sighting of Saidhe and Loap was them heading into a small Roq community. You know the type, where they pool resources and act like a small piece of Draqqi?"

  "Don't they call them 'kolkhoz'?" Avery asked.

  "Yes, they do. They always abide by Ur and local law, when it supersedes their own."

  "Right, so... Biann and Kre?"

  "They were taken in by a craft owned by several shell corporations, which was no doubt to hide its heritage. However, they flew straight to one of the Tuadan buildings, so there's no question about who has them."

  "Tuadan?" Vadim asked. "The... vid company?"

  "One and the same."

  "Call me dumb and paint me purple, but what would a vid company want with Fluffy and Twinkle? Are they getting their own show? Maybe an exposé on today's wonderful world of freight haulage? Or do they want her to dish the dirt on Daddy Dearest?"

  "That's what I'm trying to find out, Kip."

  Peters rarely called him anything other than 'Captain', so that got his attention. "The big pockets you were on about."

  "They have to have money coming from somewhere, and Tuadan is certainly known for that, if nothing else."

  "Who do we grab first?" Avery asked, making Vadim jump.

  "That's the thing: I'm not sure if we can 'grab' Kre and Biann. Not safely, anyway. Saidhe and Loap are accessible, and I would recommend the pair of you go to find them, first."

  He wasn't letting that go so easily. "What do you mean, you don't think we can grab them? Si, they're my crew. I'm going to rescue them, if I die trying! Well, I probably won't manage to rescue them if I die, unless it's right at the end, but you... you know what I'm saying."

  "Tuadan have money. Money buys security. Buys loyalty. Getting into their systems, their buildings, will be difficult. Doable, but difficult. Plus, I doubt they will harm them," Peters said.

  "What if they're the ones behind the assassination attempts?" Avery asked.

  "Do you think they would pick her up and take her to their base if they wanted her dead?"

  "Maybe. Hleen get crazy sometimes. All their layers of conspiracy within conspiracy. I swear on my oath, those dudes are whack at times." Ithon shuddered. "Although forget everything I just said, Kip. I'm sure they're fine."

  "...thanks," Vadim replied, dryly.

  "I'll prime the craft." Avery turned to the Judge. "Sir, am I right in thinking you'll stay here to co-ordinate resources?"

  "I will, yes," the Judge replied. "Go get them. We'll all be back aboard the Messenger before you know it."

  Although Vadim hoped to hell that Mes herself would be okay. All this bouncing in and out of her... well... body? It couldn't be good for her. Not at all.

  ***

  [Ashroe: I find it telling that there's no other AIs like her. I know, I know, Rule of Cool and the Special because it's the heroes/protagonists/etc etc. But it's one of those things that kind of bugs me.]

  [Sianor: Hmm. I never thought about that. I guess because they keep her profile pretty low on the show, and it's more our fandom's meta discussions about her behaviour that make us think she's... more?]

  [Ashroe: Plus, our Mes is pretty much miles ahead of anything on the show. I do always worry they will cop out and make her take a robot body or something. I don't want them to. I want the ship to stay a ship, but be a person-ship.]

  [Sianor: You think they limit her screentime because... she's not on the screen? Because she's just a voice?]

  [Ashroe: Television is a very... visual medium. Naturally, what with the word vision right there in the name. But they... they usually wind up giving some form of anthropomorphised interface. I guess also because Humans would invent a robot or whatever that looked like us.]

  [Sianor: Depends what we had it doing. If it was gonna be a slave, there's that creepy Uncanny Valley thing.]

  [Ashroe: But if we're making them to get attached to, like if the
y're there to comfort us or be companions... humanising them makes more sense.]

  [Sianor: Do you think fans are reading too much into her? Like... is her 'humanity' there because we want it to be? Because we interpret all actions - like cat meows - in terms we understand?]

  [Ashroe: Could be. I think the show just does what it feels like. Sometimes I worry they don't think as in-depth about the ramifications... well. It's easy to miss something. Like... you could have her singing because you want to showcase the actress' beautiful voice. And everyone would say that it was art, and therefore a sign of true sentience. Evolution. All that jazz.]

  [Sianor: I'd hate to write for TV. I'd hate to think I was missing out on ways to put little things in, or I was... I dunno. Accidentally making little girls think they were ugly if they had blue eyes, or they had to get married, or... anything.]

  [Ashroe: I think we can play about with the Tuadan stuff and do some commentary on the network.]