"How about the Class-C replicator and the med-tank?" I asked. The entire reason we'd been clearing down to the bunker warehouse was so we could have a safe place for our most critical tech.
"Class-C is still connected to the ship's power and the med-tank is sitting just inside the cargo bay," he said. "The turret required more work than I expected. We had to manufacture a cabinet for the weapon controls and the mounting is a bit Frankensteinian. I don't think we can move the Class-C until we're done moving the turret just in case we need more parts. And there's another problem: we're starting to run low on material."
"The Piscivoru were familiar with replicator technology," Jonathan interjected. "We have catalogued most of the three levels of the warehouse and have discovered large material stores."
I shook my head in amazement. I couldn't imagine when Jonathan would have had time to catalog the entire warehouse in the last few hours.
"Okay. Plan really hasn't changed. You finish work on the turret and we'll set up the Class-A and med-tank," I said. "Do you need help moving the turret?"
"Not beyond the stevedore bot," he said.
"Take it," I said. "Tabby and I will clear the doorway and get the Class-A replicator operational. Tskir, would you mind locating the raw material Jonathan is referring to?"
"The material is within containers massing approximate four hundred kilograms," Tskir said. "Even as a broodling, I would not be capable of moving something of this size."
"I'm going to guess you didn't have vehicles on Jarwain," I said.
"I am familiar with the concept, but you are correct in that we were sequestered. We found no purpose for vehicles," she answered.
I pointed to the stack of trucks against the wall. "I bet those are designed for moving items in the warehouse. Why don't you see if you can find one that's operational?"
"You are a surprise, Liam Hoffen," she answered. "You are aware that I am of advanced age, but you do not treat me as infirmed."
"Gaylon Brighton's med-tank took care of the few issues you had," I said. "We’re going to need every able-bodied person, Piscivoru and Human, once those Kroerak show up."
Tskir didn't look back as she jogged toward the line of vehicles.
"We will remove the rock," Sklisk said, looking dubiously at the mound surrounding the door. "It will take time, but we are equal to this task."
I smiled. The little warrior might have a big heart, but neither he nor Jaelisk, who was missing most of her left arm, would be able to lift even half of the rocks that had fallen into the opening.
"Agreed," I said, as they started toward the pile. "But not like that." I stopped them in their tracks just as a truck careened off the top of a stack of four, Tskir in the driver’s seat.
It was every man for himself as we all jumped away, looking for cover. Tskir came to a stop a second from striking the endcap of a long row of shelving a meter from where we’d been standing.
"Collision avoidance seems to be operational," Tabby said, humor lacing her voice.
"I've got it," Tskir said, waving her hands wildly. "Stop looking at me!"
"What is collision avoidance?" Jaelisk asked.
"The machines know about other objects," I said. "Without specific instructions to do so, they won't intentionally run into something. Let me show you." I pointed out a Piscivoru equivalent of a bulldozer, complete with wide blade at the front and tracks for wheels. "Looks like you have a nice dirt-mover here. You'll be able to clear the whole area in a short period of time if we can get it running."
"Dirt-mover," Jaelisk said, trying out the word as we walked.
"Hop up in there, Sklisk," I said.
The vehicle didn’t have a chair, like most species would use. Instead a couple of padded braces flipped out from the side of the machine's cab. For a Piscivoru, the setup made sense. Generally, they used their tails to steady themselves when upright and would only need some help keeping from being thrown backward or forward too far.
"This is quite foreign to me," he said, standing where I directed.
"Unlike early machines created by both our species, we don't need to understand how these machines operate. It will learn your gestures and how they relate to the functions this machine is capable of performing," I explained. "For example, to start this machine, you depress that small panel. No," I pushed his hand over to the panel he was unable to see because everything in front of him was foreign. "Now spread your fingers. This is called a security panel. You'll see these in a variety of places. Engirisk has told the machines to accept all Piscivoru as valid."
Sklisk looked at me suspiciously and flicked his tongue out in a gesture I'd learned meant he was tasting for deception. When the machine chugged to life but didn’t move forward, he turned back to the controls in front of him.
"Good. See that blade in front of you? This machine has only a few functions, primary of which is to push dirt and rocks out of the way."
"How will I avoid hitting the building?" he asked. It was a perceptive question.
"See the display?" I tapped on the console in front of him. Currently, it wasn't showing anything, but I pinched a proposal my AI had for removing the rock debris from not just the doorway, but all the way back to ground level along the original slope.
"The voice in my ear is asking if I should accept a plan?" he said. "I do not understand."
"That plan is from me. The machine is showing you the rocks we want to move," I said. "It will warn you if you're taking too much material. For now, don't override the machine if it stops you."
The bulldozer jumped forward, turning hard to the left as Sklisk pushed one of his hands forward. Tabby grabbed for Jaelisk, but came up empty as the three of us jumped away.
"Help!" Sklisk pled, pulling his hand away.
"That was it," I said. "Try it again, but use both hands. We'll stay clear."
Looking from me back to the machine, he pushed against the controls again and the machine jumped forward, listing this time to the right, only for Sklisk to overcorrect the other way.
"Like a drunken sailor," Tabby quipped as Sklisk's blade noisily screeched while cutting into the pile of rocks and debris.
"What would you have me do?" Jaelisk asked, her tongue flicking out with excitement.
"Same thing, just need you to grab a truck," I said. "Now, with your missing arm, it's going to be a bit more of a challenge, but I think you're up to it. Tabbs, you want to keep an eye on things here while Jaelisk and I retrieve the med-tank?"
"Can do," she said. "I'll get the Class-A set up."
Teaching Jaelisk how to operate the truck turned out to be a bit of a challenge. Unfamiliarity with the concept of machines and a general distrust of the technology made for several exciting moments. Perhaps the most difficult instinct to overcome was that Jaelisk pulled her hand back whenever she became concerned. The effect was rather jarring, but in the end, the truck's AI learned to translate her instructions more fluently.
I chose to ride in the bed of the truck. The ride was bumpier than simply flying over to the Gaylon Brighton with my grav-suit, but it gave us a chance to talk. It seemed that the discussion kept her from panicking.
"Is it common for a Piscivoru to lose an arm?" I asked. "I lost my foot once, a long time ago."
"That does not make sense," she answered. "You have a foot. And no, it is not common. To lose an arm is to become less valuable to the people. We cannot grow our arms back as if they are tongues or tails. Are you able to grow back your legs and arms?"
"Wait," I said. "You can grow back your tail? Without a machine?"
"It is embarrassing and takes much time, but yes, our tails will grow back," she said. "Our tongues grow back more quickly. This is a good thing as our children often bite off their tongues when they are broodlings. It is a sign of immaturity to have bitten off one's tongue. How is it that you lost your foot?"
"A pirate shot it off," I said.
"How long did it take to regrow?" she asked, slowing the truc
k as we skimmed across rough ground, arriving at Gaylon Brighton.
"A few hours in a medical tank," I said.
"What is medical tank?"
"This is a medical tank," I said, hopping from the back of the truck and walking into Gaylon Brighton's open cargo bay. I patted the round glass panel of the tank Sendrei had freed from the inside of the ship. "Tell me, how would you like to regrow that arm?"
Chapter 4
Family Affair
Marny turned uncomfortably in the small head. Hornblower had been built by the Pogona who were a narrow people by Earther standards. A room that had once been uncomfortable given her normal outsized build, had become almost inoperable with Little Pete on board. As if knowing she was thinking of him, the baby gave a few well-placed kicks in response.
"There are one-hundred twenty crew depending on me to keep them alive, little man," Marny said. "I'd sure appreciate you giving that bladder you seem to think is a punching bag, a rest for the next hour or so."
Whether in response or just lucky timing, he gave a final kick and settled. Marny inspected her face as a tear leaked onto her cheek. With a swift wipe, she brushed it away, then ran the tap and pulled cold water to her face, looking to blot away the redness below her eyes.
"Frak, Marny, what are you doing?" she asked the barely recognizable woman looking back at her. "You're about to have a baby and you're running off to war. A battleship is no place for a baby."
A soft knock at the door caught her attention.
"You doing okay in there?" Ada's voice floated quietly through the thin partition that separated them.
She and Ada had an easy peace between them. As women, they couldn't be more different. Ada was younger by ten stans and her build was that of a typical petite spacer, complete with perfectly proportioned curves. Marny, on the other hand, saw herself as overly tall and gawky, muscular, blocky and plain spoken.
"Just a minute," Marny said, trying to will away the signs of her uncontrollable emotions.
Unexpectedly, the door to the head opened. Annoyance surged at the invasion of privacy and Marny turned, ready to bark, only she couldn't.
In front of her stood Ada, carefully holding a bundle of white satin in her arms. "Oh, dear. Your cheeks. Have you been crying?" Ada asked and before Marny could answer. "Of course, you have. I've always wondered how you did it."
Marny's eyes widened in confusion. "Did what?" she asked, lost in the conversation.
"Managed to always be in control," Ada replied. "In all the time we've been together, I've never seen you lose it. Not once. Now it makes sense. You're not a robot. You're a closet crier."
Marny looked down at the woman and managed a half-grin, remembering the frail teen she'd carried from the life-pod after pirates had murdered her mother. It had been her duty to clean and clothe the unconscious girl, and she remembered crying over the loss Ada would feel when she awoke. Life had a funny way of coming around full circle.
"In the Marines, emotion is seen as weakness," Marny said, nodding at the hallway behind Ada. "Let's go. I need to get to the bridge."
Ada lifted an eyebrow. Marny wasn’t going to be allowed to ignore the folds of bright white cloth in her arms. "Don't make me get physical here," she said, eliciting a surprised bark from Marny.
"I'm not much of a white person," Marny said. "We can talk about uniforms once we're underway."
"Neptune's rings, but you've got a dense side to you," Ada said. "The hallway is locked down. Now step out of there and strip."
"What is this about?" Marny asked, although understanding was starting to seep in.
"You're getting married, Marny," Ada said. "I've been working on this dress and I hope you like it. I knew with your schedule, getting the ship ready and all, you'd never have time."
Ada set the dress aside and pulled at one of Marny’s grav-suit sleeves. Marny acquiesced and slid a finger along the seam of her suit to release it.
"I'm going to look like a whale." Fresh tears appeared on Marny’s cheeks.
"You will most certainly not look like a whale. You've a beautiful baby boy inside you and we'll have none of that kind of talk," Ada said, her voice softening. Without permission, she placed cool hands onto Marny's stomach wistfully. "And you will stop crying. I only have two anti-inflammation swabs."
The intimate moment took Marny by surprise. Having spent time training in mixed-combat Marine units, she was used to others seeing her naked body in showers and while changing clothing. The fact was, that had never involved touching, at least none that didn't end up with broken bones.
"Does Nick know?" Marny asked, while Ada helped tug the slippery fabric around Marny's girth.
"My dear, confused woman," Ada said. "Of course he does. Right now, he's on the bridge, waiting for you. This was all his idea."
Fresh tears filled Marny's eyes and emotion threatened to overtake her. "He's going to be disappointed that Liam's not here."
"We've got that worked out," Ada said, pushing and prodding at Marny's softer pieces in an attempt to get them settled into the dress. "Frak, Marny, that is a lot of boob! Can you, you know, move it over a little?"
Marny laughed at Ada's frustration and reached down the front of her dress to adjust herself. "They've developed a mind of their own," she admitted. "And Nick says I can't do a reduction right away after Little Pete comes."
"Little pervert," Ada said, causing both to laugh. "Think you can manage heels?" She pulled a pair of elegant, white beaded shoes with a wide, four-centimeter heel from a pouch.
Marny stepped into the shoes as Ada stroked her short-cropped hair with a styling comb. "Do you think I'm wrong to go after Liam?" Marny asked, introspectively. "Should I stay behind?"
"Could you? I'm probably the wrong one to ask, Marny," Ada said. "You don't know this, but I've watched the video of you and Liam rescuing me from that life-pod a hundred times. I always start out searching for something I could have done to save Mom, but what always gets me is how you cared for me when I was unconscious. You're a physically intimidating woman to most people, Marny. But that's not what I see. What I see is a strong woman with a mother's instinct in the body of a warrior. Should you stay behind? I'm not sure who gets to decide that if it's not you. You can be both things, Marny. You can be that warrior and you can be that mother."
Marny turned her head, only to have Ada push on her cheek so she couldn't look back at her. "You don't think I'm putting Little Pete into harm’s way?"
"You're absolutely taking Little Pete into harm's way," Ada said. "That's not the right question. The Kroerak are coming. The right question is will he be safer if his mother embraces the warrior she's always been and saves the one man we know who has an actual chance to put this whole thing right. Now hold still!"
Marny chuckled as she looked straight down the long hallway that still lacked paint from the refit. It had been a long time since she'd thought about Ada's misadventures. It surprised her to learn that Ada had watched those private moments when Marny had cared for her.
"Now, for the final touch," Ada said triumphantly as Marny felt a weight on her head. Ada stepped around to the front, reached up and adjusted the lacey veil before drawing it forward to cover Marny's face.
"You've gone to so much trouble," Marny said, sniffling as she tried to hold back the hormone-driven tears she'd become so tired of.
Ada lifted the veil and swabbed at Marny's cheeks just beneath her eyes. "Enough of that. You can get a good look at yourself on your HUD."
Marny inspected herself and found exactly what she'd expected: a big, bright-white whale standing in stark contrast to a lithe, dark-skinned beauty. Though she'd never say it out loud, Marny had always dreamed of being beautiful. While the dress made her feel special, she wasn't ready to part with reality just yet.
"You don't like it?" Ada asked. "You're frowning."
"The dress is gorgeous," Marny said, truthfully. "It's just ..."
"Stop it," Ada snapped. "You're about to say som
ething that's going to piss me off."
"No, really, I love it all. It's just …"
Quick as a whip, Ada lashed out and slapped the side of Marny's cheek. Hard enough to get her attention, but not enough to leave a lasting mark. "Not a big listener, are you?" Ada said, her eyes fiery with anger. "Say one nasty word about the kindest, bravest, gentlest woman I know, and I'll slap you back to puberty. You read me?"
Marny looked at Ada with shock. "Um. Okay. It's just …"
"Just what? Just that you're voluptuous in a world of sticks? You're a woman in all the glory a woman has to offer? You're large and in charge. And if you ever wonder whether you turn heads, I think you only need to remember how we had to remove Liam from the clothing boutique on Léger Gros."
Marny chuckled at the woman's fierceness and at the memory. "He really is a horny toad, isn't he?"
Ada smiled, shrugging. "He's honest and doesn't get creepy about it. So, are we going to do this?"
"Let's do it," Marny agreed and pulled up at the heavy folds of the satin that hung in front of her.
A crewman stiffened to attention as they turned the corner and approached the elevator that would take them to the bridge.
"As you were," Marny said, snapping off a salute and feeling more than a little weird about it in her wedding dress.
"Did you see the look on his face?" Ada giggled once the lift's doors had closed.
"Ooph," Marny said, suddenly grabbing her stomach.
"Ooph?" Ada asked as the elevator slowed. She quickly instructed the elevator to hold its position without opening the doors.
"Contraction," Marny said. "I've had a few of them today."
"Seriously? Regularly?"
"Every twelve minutes," she said.
"You're in labor?"
"Looks that way," Marny said. "Let's hope my water doesn't break."
Ada started laughing. "Oh, my fat Martian ass," Ada said. "There is nothing boring about being Marny Bertrand."
Fury of the Bold Page 4
