by M J Gauntlet
“I am most curious…how were you able to cure this affliction when you had never seen it before? How was it that you succeeded, where generations of our clinicians failed?” Jurrak’takk asked, with unmasked awe.
“Well…you see, as it turns out I have seen the same surface conditions before, just not on an egg. It looked almost identical to the pitting and scaring I have run across several times before on the interior surface of ship’s ion tubes. It was just a matter of perception. I was able to look at the problem from an engineering perspective, rather than a medical one. You were searching for a cure, while I only wanted to ‘heal’ the infected area. I have developed a process, that enabled me to apply a material that perfectly mimics any surface to which it is applied. I used it to repair similarly distressed tube linings. I was lucky, I had a sufficient amount of the material still on hand and useable.”
“Remarkable. Tell me, young Zaxxion Grayson would you be willing to share the formula of miraculous application?” Jurrak’takk asked anxiously.
“Why of course, I will give…”
“Of course…my crewmember will give your request ample consideration!” Captain Ahosi broke in, talking over Zax’s reply. Turning to Zax, she shooed him back towards the Windjammer’s crew, then turned back to face the startled Krillian official.
“Noble Jurrak’takk, I am sure that we can come to some arrangement for the licensing of crewman Grayson’s process to the Krillian race, for a nominal fee or other compensation. Why don’t we discuss this over a warm cup of kaffee, in more comfortable environs?”
Zax was about to protest, when he felt Pilar give him a sharp pinch on his buttocks. “Shush Zax, you did damn good for a newbie, but let the captain take it from here,” she said, in a hushed whisper. Surreptitiously, rubbing his sore butt cheek, he nodded his acquiescence. Captain Ahosi, along with First Mate Gomez were ushered out into the corridor, and then into an adjoining alcove, to be joined by Jurrak’takk and another Krillian.
Slowly, group by group, the Krillians began to exit the gallery. Each gave a brief bow to Zax, as they passed by him. The Crist’takk clan was the last to file out of the gallery. As the head of the clan passed Zax, he stopped and bowed low, allowing the crest of plumage to brush against Zax’s forehead. For a second time, Zaxxion felt a slight tingle of static discharge.
“Honored human, I am Terjarak’takk the elder hereditary head of the Crist’takk. I wish to thank you personally, for what you have done here today on behalf of my coterie. From this point on, we of the Crist’takk shall consider you a brood brother. If there is any service or benefit, we can bestow upon you, all you need do is to ask. We are in your debt.”
Zax bowed in return and then paused, as a thought occurred to him. “Noble Terjarak’takk there is one boon I seek, but I would not ask for fear of insulting you,” he said, hesitantly.
“You have but to ask. There can be no insult between brood mates. If it is within our power to grant this request, we shall do so,” Terjarak’takk replied somberly.
“Very well, but if you could wait just a moment…”
Zax then turned towards the remaining crewmembers and motioned them to move out of hearing range. There were looks of confusion, but they reluctantly moved forward towards gallery door. Pilar took care to remain a respectful distance from Zax, to maintain the illusion that he was not alone. Once he was sure that they were out of earshot, he turned back towards the elder and spoke to him in hushed tones. The Krillian stepped back slightly and his feathered topknot started to rise, but abruptly settled back down again, as the alien slowly nodded. Without further comment, Terjarak’takk rejoined his group, they filed slowly past the rest of the Windjammers company and out through the door.
“What was that all about?” Pilar queried, but Zax only gave her a mysterious smile and exited with the remainder of the crew as they headed back to the ship.
When they had reached the Windjammer (no longer under escort), they were surprised to find that a full crew of Krillian dockhands were already present and had the outgoing cargo lined up at the conveyor belt leading to the ship’s main cargo bay. As Zax passed the alien longshoremen, each paused for a moment and gave him a small bow. Zax was amazed at how quickly the word of his deed had spread throughout the colony.
Pilar immediately took charge of the cargo bay and organized the remaining ship’s company into an even number of deckhands, while shooing Zax back up the ramp and into the ship by telling him he would only be in the way. Once he reached his stateroom, Zax discovered that he felt totally exhausted, as the full weight of what he had just done seemed to hit him all at once. Collapsing on the contragrav bed, he immediately fell asleep.
“Zax…Zaxxion Grayson? Are you asleep?”
“Huh? Wha…” Zax said groggily, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then abruptly sat up, realizing that he had inadvertently fallen asleep. “Yes Windy, what is it?”
“The captain has just returned from the Krillian colony and has called for a crew meeting in the mess hall at 1200 hours ship time. All crewmembers have been informed and are currently on their way. You were the last to be notified. I suggest you make yourself presentable and attend.”
“Twelve hundred hours? What time is it now? How long have I been asleep?”
“As to how long you have been asleep, I cannot say, but you entered your cabin at 0800 and it is now 1130 hours.”
“Whoa, I had no idea I slept that long. It felt like I only closed my eyes for a minute or two. Ok, I’m fully awake now. Thanks for the head’s up.”
“It is my pleasure.”
Zax sprang out of bed and headed for the fresher. After a quick cleansing, he debated whether to wear the spacer’s dress uniform, but decided to don his normal everyday clothes. Placing the somewhat wrinkled uniform into the sonic clothes refresher, he took a moment to look at himself in the wall, which now showed a reflective surface to serve as a mirror, then dashed off down the corridor to the mess hall. He was no longer surprised at the ease with which he navigated the ships upper passageways. Their twists and turns had become second nature to him.
When he arrived at the mess hall, Zax found the entire crew assembled there, save for Captain Ahosi and First Mate Gomez. Several had a hot, steaming, mugs of kaffee in their hands and where talking to one another in excited voices. As he entered, conversation came to an abrupt halt and all heads turned to look at him. He would hate to play poker or whiz with this group, for he could read nothing in their expressions. Even Pilar’s normally expressive face was a blank. Going over to the kaffee pot, he poured himself a stout drink, walked over to an empty seat with all eyes following him and sat down, his hands wrapped around the warm mug.
“I’m not sure what this meeting is all about, but if I were to take a wild guess, I would think that it has something to do with me,” Zax said, his voice catching in his throat.
There was a pregnant pause, then the room erupted in raucous laughter. Suddenly, hands were pounding him on his back and each of the women present bent down and kissed him roundly on his cheeks, except for Pilar, who stopped and kissed him long and hard on his lips with a heated passion, that elicited cat calls and wolf whistles from the rest of the crew, including Brax. Then as suddenly as it began, the revelry immediately ceased. Both the captain and the first mate just entered the room. Captain Ahosi cleared her throat loudly, as everyone froze for a moment, then quickly made their way back to their seats.
“Before I proceed with this tradership shareholders meeting, I would like to make something crystal clear…” Ahosi then turned and looked Zax directly in his eyes, “young man if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will personally throw you out of the nearest airlock with a line attached and keel haul you!” Zax could feel his eyes widen, as he realized that she was dead serious.
“Do you have any idea of the one hundred and one ways what you did could have gone wrong?! Do you know the spot you put yourself and the rest of the crew in? Because you were technica
lly a member of the Windjammer’s crew, if you failed, not only would you have suffered, but the entire ship could have been sanctioned, denied access to any space where the Krillians habitat or even visit!”
“I…I…didn’t know. I only wanted to help,” he said, miserably.
“Why didn’t you at least talk it over with me?” Ahosi inquired, a little calmer, seeing the distress on the young man’s face.
“We just didn’t have time. In just a few more moments they were going to evacuate those eggs. They were children, for god’s sake! I just had to do something. I’m sorry…I truly am. I would have never intentionally put the rest of you in jeopardy,” Zax finished saying in despair.
Ahosi paused for a long time, then allowed a smile to spread across her face.
“It does you credit that you saw them as, not just alien eggs, but as children. You have a true spacer’s way of looking at things, and as it turned out you did all right… for a newbie. But you have got a lot to learn. You were going to actually give the Krillians the formula for your process, weren’t you?” After Zax nodded yes, a chuckle ran around the room.
“I thought so. Young man no matter how briefly, you were a member of this crew, a tradership crewman. We never give away anything of value, we trade. Lucky for you, I stopped you before you disgraced yourself and us. It wouldn’t do to have had the Krillians think that we are an easy touch. As it turned out, I was able to broker a sweet deal for all of us and therefore I called this shareholder’s meeting.”
An excited tremor went around the room as the crew paid rapt attention to the captain’s words.
“From this point on, all trades between all the Krillian colonies and the Windjammer will be at a 30% discount.” A cheer went up from the assemblage, and the captain raised her hands to quiet them down. “In addition, a patent has been issued in the name of both the Windjammer and Zaxxion Grayson, that will garner a 2% fee for the licensing and use of said process each time it is applied throughout the Krillian society. This agreement shall be recorded in both the Krillian and Imperial records! Which means if it is applied for any other reason than the Krillian condition, a full fifty percent royalty will accrue and be collected. Twenty percent of that will be accredited to the Windjammer and thirty percent to Zaxxion Grayson.”
This time a stunned silence met her words. “Yes…” Ahosi said into the silence. “It could mean that this crew could accrue thousands of eunits, maybe even tens of thousands in royalties in the upcoming years. It also means that a pretty penny will also make its way into each of your accounts.” Again, the room erupted in cheers and yells, hands once again pounding Zax on his back, along with words of congratulation.
“Of course,” Ahosi said, calming the tumult down, “this is all dependent on whether Zax here is willing to part with the formula. He is under no obligation to do so and is free to make his own deal with the Krillians for his process.”
Zax slowly tilted his head to the side and began to somberly stroke his chin. Holding that pose as long as he dared with every eye on the bridge on him, he then broke out in a wide grin.
“Of course, I will adhere to the provisions of the contract you have worked out with the Krillians. It is only fair. There is no way I would have been able to work out such an advantageous deal on my own. Hell, I was going to give it away for nothing. But there are two conditions that I ask… one; everyone stop calling me a ‘young man’ and two; you promise to give Windy a memory upgrade and a good decontamination after carrying those earthworms.” The room burst out in cheers and laughter once again.
“Thank you Zaxxion Grayson,” he heard in his head. “By the way captain, there seems to be a delegation of Krillians currently waiting at the boarding ramp. They seem to be carrying parcels or packages of some kind.”
Eyebrows raised in surprise, Captain Ahosi turned to Zax. “Do you have any idea what this is about?”
“Yes, I believe I do captain. It is a private matter that I have with my ‘brood mates’ the Crist’takk. If I’m not mistaken that is them down at the main ramp. If you will excuse me, I will go down to meet them.” As he rose from his seat, Pilar started to get up with him.
“Oh, it will not be necessary for you to accompany me, nor anyone else for that matter. It seems that now that I am an honorary member of the clan, I can travel alone throughout the colony without undue repercussions. I will only be a minute, but I will need to use one of the contragrav pallets from one of the cargo holds. If that is ok captain?”
Ahosi nodded dazedly. Zax returned her nod and headed down into the lower levels of the ship. The Krillian delegation was waiting patiently at the bottom of the ramp as Zax went down to meet them, a cargo skid floating quietly in tow. As he reached them one of the aliens separated himself from the group and bowed low, feathered topknot extended. On impulse, Zax leaned forward and allowed the feathery plumage to brush against his forehead as he returned the bow. The entire group began to croon in satisfaction at the gesture.
“I am Shrikk’takk and this is my mate Trillkakk’takk. It was our clutch that you saved, for which we are eternally grateful. Please forgive me for using the shortened form of our names for we mean no insult Zxxion’Grakkson’takk, but we were informed that your ears are unable to hear the higher range of our speech.”
“I am pleased to see you,” Zax said earnestly, then remembered something that the clan elder Terjarak’takk had said. “There can be no insult between brood mates,” he added somberly.
The effect of his words on the assembly was heartwarming as each Krillian trilled a note of approval. Then Trillkakk’takk and the other female members of the group stepped forward and each handed a bundled parcel out for Zax to have. Gingerly, he took each package and placed it on the hovering pallet behind him.
“These are what you requested from the clan leader, and we females of the Crist’takk are indeed pleased to offer these revered articles to you. May your female brides use them well.”
Startled at the word ‘brides’, Zax started to correct the misconception but thought better of it. Let them think whatever they wanted if it gave them comfort.
“Thank you, very much honored ladies. I am honored by your gifts,” Zax replied, as he turned to leave, but Shrikk’takk placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pulled him around.
“These were the gifts that you requested, but they are not all that we have to bestow upon you,” Shrikk’takk said, as the females stepped back, and the males stepped to the forefront. “We have a gift for your brood brothers aboard the tradership and one for you alone, from all of the males of the Crist’takk clan to honor you.” With that, he handed Zax two containers. “This first one is for each of the males aboard your ship. It is a gift from the Crist’takk. We noticed that their adornments were rather plain and thought that these might brighten them up a little. The second…” Shrikk’takk said, holding up what looked like a highly polished round box that was almost a half a meter in thickness and a meter in diameter, “is for you alone Zxxion’Grakkson’takk. It is for your shassikk…home nest. We ask that when the time comes, that you proudly display them in your home nest.” Zax took a closer look at the smooth ornate box. On its highly polished surface, a crest or symbol of some sort had been inlaid with what looked like pearls onto its surface. While it seemed to be made of some kind of solid hardwood, it appeared to be made from the same material with which the colony ship had been constructed. Like the colony ship, it seemed to have practically no mass.
“Please accept these as tokens of our gratitude for the service that you have not only provided to the Crist’takk, but to all the unborn Krillians who would have been lost.” Shrikk’takk extended his feathered crest once more and bowed to Zax. “Farewell Zxxion’Grakkson’takk, brood brother and friend. May your flight be smooth, and your travels be far.”
As if on some silent signal, the entire assemblage stepped back, turned and filed out back through the colony’s massive airlock. Zax watched them go and discovered that a
lump had suddenly appeared in his throat, along with a vague sense of loss. Putting the remorseful feelings aside, he turned the contragrav pallet back towards the ship and entered the main lift to the flight deck. When he arrived back on the bridge with the gift laden pallet in tow, he found that everyone was still waiting for his return. With a sheepish grin, he reached behind him and began to parcel out the packages from the floating skid. Each package was identified by crew name, unobtrusively stenciled on the lower corner of the box.
When he had finally distributed the last parcel, he was a little taken aback that no one had said a word, nor had they attempted to open their gifts.
“These are gifts from the Crist’takk, my official brood brothers, to the crew of the Windjammer. Don’t just stand there…open them up!”
Without further delay, the crew eagerly opened their packages. Since their packages were smaller, the male crew were able to unwrap their gifts first. Each one of their eyes widened and almost bulged out of their sockets, as they saw what lay within those simple boxes. Reaching in, each withdrew a long gold chain with a gemstone at its terminus. Brax held up a rare fire ruby from the mountains of the planet Conniff, while Santo Gomez’s stone was a metamorphic dire moth chrysalis from the planet Toobad. Chief Engineer Abrams’ was the most spectacular of all…a perfectly spherical pearl the size of a pong ball from old Terra.
Behind Zax, a high-pitched squeal of delight erupted from each woman on the bridge (he could swear that Captain Ahosi also joined in) as they unwrapped what lay in their containers, to discover a sizeable bolt of cloth. It was not just any cloth, but the same exotic fabric of which the Krillian females clothing was made. Each bolt was unique, yet of similar weave that seemed to uncannily match the demeanor of its recipient. For instance; Pilar’s was a riot of interwoven hues that should have clashed but seemed to trick the eye into seeing harmony, while second mate Trina Idrija’s was a deep almost sensual blue green with just a hint of saffron woven through the fabric. Both Branda’s and Irene’s cloth were equally exotic and beautiful, but none matched that of Captain Ahosi’s fabric.
