Seeking Sirius
Page 11
Alexa gazed at it with distaste. “What on earth is it for?”
Rachel toggled down a list on the screen, and as she chose English and hit Enter, she answered, “Cleaning the room. They’re called butler bots.”
Alexa wondered if she could get rid of it.
From the screen’s speaker, a voice that could have been explaining the safety features of an airplane at home intoned, “For your comfort, jumps between systems will generally take place during the sleep cycle. Please alert the staff to any special requirements for your comfort during jumps.”
Rachel asked, “When will we jump? It sounds difficult.” The video continued about some kind of alarm sequence.
“We have a night cycle and a day,” said Alexa, “and during the next night, we will become true interstellar travelers.” Rachel shook her head in disbelief.
The video continued, “In case of emergency, please pull straight out on the handle at top middle over the bed. Enter the alcove and allow the door to automatically close and lock.”
Rachel said, “Do you think this kind of thing is standard on cruise lines?”
“I’m pretty certain I don’t want to know if it’s standard,” said Alexa. She picked up her backpack, which now doubled as her purse. “I’m famished. Let’s go find lunch.”
As the trio took their seats Alexa recognized the woman from the Adalans space station View Dome sitting at a nearby table with an elderly couple elegantly turned out in tunics and pants of a soft-yellow fine material and jewels. Alas, the woman glanced up from her dinner conversation and Alexa had to acknowledge her friendly recognition. Uh oh.
“Why, hello,” the woman warbled and gestured with a quick shake of her hand. “I recognize you.” Rachel and Donny looked over, curiosity plain on their faces. “You and that verrrry handsome tall man agreed to witness at the wedding of the sweet young couple, on the station.” She brought a hand to her chest, to emphasize how good-looking she’d thought Pearson.
Alexa’s face froze into a smile, willing the woman to cut short the description. It appeared Rachel began calculating five, from two plus two.
The woman continued while folding her napkin. “It seems you are traveling with us. How delightful.” She stepped over to stand next to Alexa, who rose to meet her. Alexa had merely a vague memory of the woman’s height and presence. The turban and flowing robes of some hard-to-pinpoint pastel color were the same as on the station. The woman said, “I don’t believe I took the time to introduce myself when I cajoled you into helping us. My name is Mrs. Edith Holmes-Fong.”
Alexa might have bet her last name would be Smith.
“I am on my way to meet my husband and it seems an eternity. Please let me know if I can assist you. I’ve become quite familiar with this ship and the cruise line company.”
“I am Alexa Jane Alden. Thank you for remembering me.”
Rachel shook hands with Mrs. Holmes-Fong. “I’m Rachel, and this is Donny.”
Donny stood for the introduction, and asked, “Who got married?”
“Oh, a young couple who boarded at the previous port of call.” Mrs. Holmes-Fong tapped her lips. “Or perhaps the one before that. I lose track after a bit. Well, their honeymoon is this cruise and we have not seen them since the wedding.” She sighed dramatically. “Of course, that is as it should be.”
Rachel looked at Alexa, who gazed up at Mrs. Holmes-Fong, who glanced at her table. “I believe our next course is about to arrive. I should return to my dinner companions. Lovely to meet you properly, my dear.” She fluttered her fingers as she turned. “If you enjoy bridge, we play every morning in the forward Day Room.”
As Alexa watched Mrs. Holmes-Fong rejoin her guests, she noticed another matron with seven little dogs in tow on glittering leashes, marching toward what must be her claimed table. The canines knew their manners even if the woman forgot hers, considering how imperiously she browbeat the robot servitors. The dogs lined up side-by-side under the table and waited patiently.
It appeared the woman imposed her self-assumed superiority on more than robots. A tall man strolled by her table, with a fabulous set of buck teeth. When he tipped his hat her way, the woman turned her head.
Rachel noticed too. “Rudeness, still healthy after all these years.”
Alexa chuckled.
Yet, leaving Adalans without speaking to Newcastle must have appeared incredibly bad mannered. She’d left a note for him trying to explain that she couldn’t carry through with the transaction. Probably he would simply go back to his expensive life, and she would be wiped from his memory.
That evening, the trio poked around the cruiser.
Taking up much of one ridge of the ship were the main dining room, shops, a multi-purpose room, and workout facilities including a space for games such as handball. In a second side of the ship was an enormous, long hall called the View Gallery. Along one side were windows, opaque at the moment. Someone explained they often afforded views of the stars or nearby space stations or planets. Doors lined the opposite side at about the same interval as if for personal cabins. Rows of chairs faced a large screen at the other end of the room, while stacked benches leaned against the wall with doors.
The exit out the other end of the room led to a fork in the corridor: Left to the dining area. Right through a green door marked Staff Only. They dutifully turned left. As the three of them trekked back near their rooms, Donny asked the girls if they would be interested in checking out the bar near the dining room. “Live music tonight, I understand.”
Rachel wondered if it would be live humans or robots.
Laughing, Alexa declined, “Thanks though.”
In her room, Alexa eyed the butler bot. What to do with the distaste she felt every time she laid eyes on it? She went into the bathroom to brush her teeth. As she came out she glanced at the bot again, and veered off to put the last of her clothes away. At length, however, she turned to face off with the bot. This is not going to work.
A quick test proved the contraption to be not too heavy. She muscled it out of its space and toward the door. In no time, it was out of the room and in the hallway, door locked. After that, she found that sleep came easily.
Next morning, a knock at the door turned out to be Rachel. “You lose something?” She studied the butler bot, which seemed almost forlorn in the corridor.
“It’s being shunned,” said Alexa, as she pulled Rachel in and shut the door.
“You want breakfast?”
“Sure,” said Alexa. “Where’s Donny?”
“Sleeping off all he drank last night. Or perhaps sulking because he was turned down.”
“Hah. You noticed he’s sweet on you.”
“Yeah,” said Rachel, and stuck out her chest, “for all my charms.” After her bravado, she picked up one of Alexa’s little stuffed animals, the armadillo. For a few moments she turned it over in her hands, and then spoke in a small, tentative voice, “Would you be okay with, something maybe developing between him and me?” She searched Alexa’s face. A past competition for a man between the two had lost its sting only after Alexa became securely involved with Mac.
Her friend needed to know about Donny’s theft. “He has a past. In fact, Donny stole something from me.”
Rachel flinched. “But he’s still with us. You bought him a ticket to travel with us.”
“True. I guess because he didn’t steal it for himself—someone back home hired him to do it—I’ve gotten to the point of tolerating him.”
“What did he take?”
“Something I was supposed to give to Mac.”
Her friend was trying to decide how to react to the news. “He doesn’t seem like a psycho.”
Faint praise. “You’re right. It was a business deal, which obviously he is out of at this point.”
Rachel pressed her palm to her heart. “He helped me when I was sick.”
“Just be careful. Indications are that he is someone worth knowing, even though he is a ‘dude.’” S
he threw out her hands in whimsey. “And since we arrived, he’s shown he is more concerned about us than something that happened back home.”
Rachel placed the armadillo on its shelf. “Anyway, you can’t give in to that type easily. Whatever happens, got to make him work for it. Hard.”
As Alexa put the finishing touches on making her bed, she said, “Let’s go through the View Gallery to the dining area. I want to see some stars.” She locked the door, leaving the butler bot at its lonely outpost.
In one of the corridors, Rachel realized she forgot some pamphlets in her room and stopped a cart-bot delivering food trays into special receptacles beside cabin doors. Alexa found the high whine of the cart-bots bothered her a bit.
“Hi, is breakfast still available?” Rachel asked, as if the robot neither had a purple face nor was working from the top of a chartreuse cart.
The bot mirrored Rachel’s speech. “Hi, it is almost over. You should hurry, or you will have to order a meal to your room. And it may take half an hour or more.”
“Okay.” Rachel turned to Alexa, said, “I’ll meet you in the dining room in five minutes,” and took off.
At the same moment, a bottle dropped off on the side away from Alexa. The robot looked down and emitted a kind of mechanical concerned sound. Its cart was over-full, so Alexa took the tray out of its hands and stepped back to wait. The robot dipped its head to the side in a parody of curiosity, said, “Thank you,” and bent to retrieve the bottle.
Studying the opening near her, Alexa asked, “Does the tray go in this slot here?”
“Yes,” the bot replied, from below the cart. And continued with, “however, I will,” as Alexa aimed at the slot. Then got out, “do that,” in time to watch Alexa slide the tray in and close the door on the slot. Almost confused, the bot said, “Thank you, Miss. If you want a job, I can talk to my supervisor.”
A robot with a sense of humor! Alexa laughed. “I will find you, if it comes to that.”
After breakfast when Alexa and Rachel arrived at the View Gallery, the huge room was completing a free-for-all play-date for kids. The two decided to wait at a window with several parents.
The window, however, could not be a view of space because it was on the wrong side. By standing on tiptoe to see around the adults, Alexa realized the attraction was a room without gravity. Small children bounced off padded walls. A little girl giggled as she turned somersaults up toward the ceiling, and the grownups echoed her. Alexa remembered the rush from her own tumbles on Pearson’s transport ship.
“Fun!” said Rachel, as a five-year-old boy dog-paddled by the window, several feet above the ground.
“It is fun, isn’t it,” agreed the woman beside her. “I haven’t done it in more than a week. I plan to come in the morning in a couple of days, during the time for ladies.” While saying her last words she began looking past the two of them, with a smile on her face.
“Hi Mom,” came a voice from behind Alexa and Rachel. When they turned, there stood a boy of more than ten years and less than fourteen.
“Hello honey,” responded the woman. Facial features and brown wavy hair showed him to be her son. “How did the game go?”
“We lost,” said the boy, slumping for effect. “But I scored almost all the goals for our team.” He stood tall and grinned proudly.
Rachel stared at him. Alexa sensed her hunger for a hit of boy. “You are a little older than my son,” said Rachel, “though I know he would enjoy vying for goals with you.”
“You have a son?” asked the woman, pulling hers into the crook of her arm. “Aren’t they great. He’s not here with you?”
“No he’s at home, where I’m headed. It will be so good to see him,” replied Rachel, her voice ringing with the confidence of inevitability.
I wish I felt that, thought Alexa.
“Mom, can I have a snack? I’m starving.”
The boy’s mother scrunched her eyes at him and turned toward the door. Over her shoulder, she asked, “See you in the free-fall room?”
“You bet,” said Rachel.
On the way to their rooms, Alexa and Rachel counted eight different colors of cart-bots. As they approached their cabins, the fact that the butler bot was missing from its post beside her door raised Alexa’s mood. Unfortunately, that surge of optimism proved premature because inside, there it was squatting in its cubby.
Chapter 19
The ship arrived at the wormhole for the Adalans solar system by early afternoon the next day. Evidently some passengers planned to transfer to another cruise line or even to their own ships, therefore those people and their luggage were shuttled over to the station first. Later, the afternoon-trippers had an opportunity to explore.
Donny disappeared quickly, leaving Alexa and Rachel to stroll along the hallways and enjoy some window-shopping. Huge news screens like on the station above Adalans took up any space between storefronts.
“Are you Alexa Jane Alden?” asked a young woman of Chinese descent. She’d come from behind and began walking beside Alexa as she posed her question.
“Yes,” replied Alexa. “Is there a problem?”
“Not at all,” said the woman. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“So have I,” came a male voice, from beside Rachel.
The Chinese woman complained, “Gavino, I was here first.”
All four came to a stop. A shop selling electronics glittered behind the two as they began gesturing at each other across Alexa and Rachel.
“Mae Lin, there are no rules against me interviewing her, too,” retorted Gavino.
Alexa’s head jerked up at the word “interview.” So Zaire did not concoct fiction. “Sorry,” said Alexa. “I have rules about not speaking to either of you.” She did an about-face and tripped over a planter of green fronds. For oxygen? Ambiance? Doesn’t matter. She righted herself and marched away.
It took a couple of beats before the reporters noticed their prey escaping. “Hey,” said Mae Lin, as she caught up, “you should tell your story. Get it right for people. Arriving as you did on Adalans, it’s unique. Don’t you want to be unique?”
“I am unique,” said Alexa, “same as you. No big news here.”
Mae Lin turned to Rachel, “Did you come with her?” Rachel, eyes big, brought up both palms to wave the reporter away.
“It’s so cool having a totally new perspective,” said Gavino. “Everything must be radically different.”
Alexa almost automatically answered. Rachel, thank heavens, didn’t respond either.
“Do you miss home?” pressed Mae Lin.
Caught by a question that so hit the mark, Alexa knew the answer had to be all over her face. The reporter opened her mouth, ready with another volley.
“Sorry, nothing today my friends.” Both journalists turned to identify the voice behind them.
It was Lady Penelope, looking fabulous in an up-do of blonde hair and an expensive pajama set, in contrast to Alexa’s corkscrew red mop and worn jeans. Instantly, the reporters began shooting questions about Newcastle Space Corporation and a takeover battle. She smiled and replied, “You know I cannot address that now. Perhaps we can talk some other time.”
Astoundingly, they drifted away.
“That’s some technique,” said Alexa. By this time she had no illusion about being on the good side of Newcastle’s sister, though it couldn’t hurt to give credit where deserved.
“Nothing difficult in it. Constancy in your responses, and the press begins to trust you.” Penelope had a sickly sweet look on her face again. “But, that would be difficult for you.”
Rachel pulled herself up. “Hey, not true. Anyway, who are you?”
“Someone Miss Alexa made a promise to, then abandoned.”
“Well if she did, it was for a good reason,” said Rachel.
Penelope took a closer look. “I believe you are the one they carried away on a stretcher.” Surprisingly, the blonde softened her tone. “All better?”
* * *
Newcastle strode from where he docked the hired shuttle, searching for his sister. He noticed Donny instead, and lightening fast grabbed the guy’s arm. “Hello again.”
Donny looked from the grip on his arm to Newcastle’s face.
“We never did have an opportunity,” said Newcastle, “for me to make it truly worth your while to complete your assigned task.”
Donny shrugged off his hold.
“She agreed to sell it to me, you know. She may have developed other ideas in the meantime. Nevertheless you would be doing her a service, helping her lose it.”
Donny turned to leave.
Newcastle clamped down on his shoulder.
“You do that again, man, and your expensive nose is gonna end up very bloody.”
Unconcerned, Newcastle replied, “I solely want to verify you are aware how much you can benefit by carrying through with your agreement.” Newcastle brought out his pad, paged over, and showed him the amount.
The guy took it in and swallowed hard. Tempted, no doubt about it. He even glanced up to verify if the offer was real. But then, he pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head. “No. They are the closest I have to family now. You are barking up the wrong tree, pal.”
As the back of Mr. Donny disappeared into the crowds, Newcastle swept at his hair and muttered, “Losing your touch, Iain.”
It wasn’t long before he caught sight of his sister standing with Alexa and another woman, blocking traffic in the middle of the main shopping corridor. Considering Penelope’s rants and raves during their rushed trip to this station he became somewhat concerned a peacekeeper would imminently be necessary. He made it there on the double.
“Hello, ladies.”
The gambit of coming up from behind worked. The redhead visibly jumped. Newcastle decided boldness would be the best technique and reached from the side to embrace Alexa, his body full against hers. Many times, he’d used this method to guide an interaction his way. Much less often did he experience this rush of gratification, even if his target responded by leaning in.