Alex still knew his way around the Arcology well enough to avoid running into almost anyone else, picking a side route that took them to the inner set of elevators and skipping the much more popular funicular. It was a slightly more circuitous route, getting to the handful of roads that were usable by ground vehicles inside wasn’t something you did on accident, but it had let everyone cool down before they got in line to take the elevator back up to Deck 8.
The core elevators were about half the size of the funicular, though there were a lot more of them so they were available sooner. No view, though, and no seating. There was a line, still long even at the later hour and almost entirely freight or maintenance related. Each lift could take two pallet carts - a low-slung cargo mover about four meters in length with space for three pallets or a bunch of loose cargo - and a driver if it wasn’t fully automated. It was limited to maintain a reasonable load and unload time, more than weight restrictions. About once a minute, they’d shuffle forward.
The thing that always impressed Alex when he used these, was that the carts always respected a pedestrian’s place in line, even though they were separated from the vehicles by a substantial yellow safety rail. There was what appeared to be automated traffic control in place, likely with some human oversight in an office nearby. The floor here filled with a matrix of bright lights, forming blocky segments for both passengers on foot and vehicles that were in the queue, ensuring that the lines were orderly and unskippable. A pair of arrows flashed to life under their feet, and lights demarcating their area began moving forward at a leisurely pace, the driverless carts rolling steadily beside them but never entering their ‘space’ in the vehicle lane.
“I should have gotten a soda. I feel so out of place.” He was left holding the bag, literally, while Carbon and Kenete both had beverages.
She looked up at him with a little smirk as she took a drink. “Would you like some of mine?”
“Nah. I’m just complaining so I have something to do while we wait.” Alex waved his hand. He wasn’t even very thirsty.
“Are you sure? It is very sweet, which seems to be a common feature in Human beverages. I expected it to have more root flavor.” Carbon lifted the transparent plastic cup and shook the ice, about halfway empty. Her brow furrowed as she looked into the remaining dark brown liquid. “I expected more beer, as well.”
“Just trying to pawn off your disappointing drink, huh?” He laughed as he held a hand out. “Suppose I can do something about that.
Carbon pulled it away from him, and clicked her tongue. “I did not say it was unenjoyable. Just that it did not meet my expectations from its name.”
“It came out of a soda fountain, so there’s probably only sugar and flavoring in it. If you want, I’m sure we can find some brewed root beer that has some actual root in it.” That was such a weird thing to be saying, but he was talking to an alien. “I’ve been to a few places that had hard versions, so you can have the beer too.”
“Oh, is it so?” She regarded the cup again as they shuffled forward a few more meters. “The word ‘hard’ there, it is to indicate the beverage is alcoholic? Not that it is physically hard.”
“Yes, exactly. They make root beer flavored candy too, so you could have an actually hard version if you really wanted.”
“Perhaps. I will need a break from this first, the sweetness is overwhelming. It may be too much for me to finish.” She took another drink anyway, idly inspecting the undecorated walls of this more utilitarian section of the arcology. Almost everything back here was gray metal sprayed with a matte clear coat to reduce glare from the powerful overhead lights. The only adornment to be found were yellow safety rails bolted to the walls and floor, and detailed directional signage for easy navigation.
Every now and then, while they were talking, Kanete would make a sound. Very quietly, like she was about to say something, but then remembered that she was working before she could actually vocalize anything but half a syllable. The last one had been pretty close to a word, both Alex and Carbon looking back at her this time.
“You all right?” He asked, eyebrows raised. He assumed that if there was an actual problem, she would... leap into action. Push them out of the way. Something like that. Whatever someone trained with a dignitary escort field manual would do.
“The tea is not sweet. It is just tea that is cold.” Her posture got a little more rigid as she spoke, looking as professional as possible with a sub shop drink in one hand. She gestured with the cup, very dedicated in that moment to keeping her eyes on their surroundings. “As the name implied.”
“I will remember that for the future, thank you.” Carbon replied first, a warm smile for the obviously uncomfortable soldier.
Kanete nodded back as the line advanced again, moving them around the last corner. The line marking the front of their area shut off and the arrows prompted them to move all the way up. The floor weighed the carts as they approached, determining there was wide enough margin to safely add three more people with the next group.
“You could get a sweet tea.” Alex added as they approached the final red line, the doors to the last elevator closing before rising up the shaft. “The name is very much literal.”
“No. A plain tea would be a welcome reprieve now.” She held the remainder of her root beer out to him.
“Oh, I couldn’t.” He replied, taking it and having a drink. Countdown on the next lift was only ten seconds, the lower decks must not be very busy tonight. “You seem so attached to it.”
She laughed and shook her head. “What is the Human saying... If you love something, set it free?”
“And if it comes back, it’s yours.” He took a long drink, draining it to the last quarter. The root beer was really sugary, even for his sensibilities. The Tsla’o food that he’d tried so far had a much lighter touch, when it had been sweet. Another little thing to ask about. Most of it had come from a dispenser, so it wouldn’t be a shortage issue. Sucrose was an easy print, as well. Their food and drink may just be less sweetened. “If that’s how it actually works, I’ve got some bad news about this soda.”
The elevator pulled up, doors on both sides opening. A cart rolled off, the red line on the ground staying lit until it was well clear. It shifted to green, both sides of the pedestrian barrier getting a handy flowing line in the same color directing them exactly where to go. The automated cart rolled on as they stepped up to the raised passenger platform, and Alex tapped the button for Deck 8, despite it being the only one illuminated.
“At least I have released it to someone who can appreciate it.” Carbon replied as the doors slid closed, and the lift started moving with an acceleration that had clearly been tuned to move cargo fast rather than give pedestrians a comfortable ride.
That was part of why Alex and his friends had used them all the time when they were teens. Particularly on the way down it felt like the floor was falling away, and if it wasn’t busy you could get some pretty good speed going through multiple decks. Nowhere near fast enough to be dangerous, but you felt it. “That you have.”
The sixth and seventh decks dinged past before the elevator car came to a stop short of Deck 8. It was the busiest, as expected for the main port serving the arcology. The process of moving up in line repeated several times before it was their turn, only one set of the doors opening for all people and cargo to exit. Once emptied, the lift would be moved over to one of the ‘down’ tubes, keeping traffic running in a single, predictable direction at all times.
Alex had taken the lead, only one walkway here running up to the flight decks. He had finished the drink in the elevator and tossed it in the first trash receptacle at the bottom of the ramp.
“Is there another trash recycler between here and the shuttle?” Carbon inquired, tilting her head at the chute embedded in the wall, a large pictogram that Alex had long associated with trash emblazoned on it.
He didn’t have to think about that. “We’re going to pass through the terminal to get back out to the flightline, they should be all over the place in there.”
“The distribution of recyclers in Human facilities has always been very thorough.” Carbon glanced back at Kanete, who seemed to pick up what she was getting at. Probably not the best look to return to your CO with a drink in hand, no matter who offered it or how safe the security threat matrix said it was here.
The walk up to the main concourse wasn’t long - Deck 8 was the most compact, the arcology having a slight angle at the walls that gave it a hint of a pyramidal shape. They walked into the sparsely populated terminal, right past the commercial flight waiting areas and up to the private departure gate. True to his word, there were trash receptacles everywhere, which Kanete took advantage of.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Somehow, shocking everyone, the guy behind the counter knew exactly which craft they were going to be returning to. A couple of scans later, the airlock out to the flightline opened and they were set.
There were guards standing by, of course, and they opened the door and extended the steps as they approached. Everyone piling in and securing things behind them. It smelled distinctly like a chinese restaurant inside this time.
“Tell the pilot we are ready to depart at the earliest convenience.” Carbon spoke to Kanete before she left the nearly opulent rear seating area. She was on the ball when it came to having a personal shuttle.
Alex hadn’t even thought to let anyone know about that. In his experience, either he was the one doing the piloting and there was a checklist to be run before asking the tower for permission, or it was a commercial flight that would leave around a specific departure time. None of this ‘depart at the earliest convenience’ stuff.
It was convenient, he wasn’t going to lie to himself about that.
Alex slipped the sandwiches into the small, empty stasis fridge and latched the door closed. The light on the door switched from yellow to green as the field that made the magic happen popped on a second later. Human stores had simple scanners to prevent the field from turning on around anything alive - stasis fields and nervous systems quite notoriously did not get along. Presumably the Tsla’o had them as well. A lot of their systems did seem very safety oriented.
That reminded him of something Kanete had said at dinner. He walked up to the front cabin, scanning the door open and poking his head inside. The squad of five that had been issued to Carbon were, naturally, in there. Kanete and Amalu he recognized right off the bat, which felt pretty good. The other three he wasn’t so sure about, but there was only one other female in the group, and her rank bar had a fair bit of detail on it. Probably who he was looking for. “Lieutenant?”
He had chosen correctly. “Yes, Lord Sorenson?”
Ugh, titles. “I just want to thank you for looking out for me. I understand you went behind the back of an Admiral to do it, that can’t have been an easy choice.”
“Of course, my Lord. The Empress has spoken, and it has shown me the way forward.” She bowed quite deeply at him.
“Understood, and thank you again.” That was a little creepy, but he was talking to someone in the military of an absolute monarchy.
He bowed back, a little bit, realizing too far into this conversation that he should have asked Carbon about what would have been proper in it. Alex withdrew from the cabin and closed the door behind him, hoping that was formal enough, or at least that they’d cut him some slack for being an alien.
Carbon was standing at the bar closer to the aft of the shuttle, pouring herself a fairly conservative glass of something dark red. She looked over at him, and lifted the bottle, dark brown but in the same shape as the one they had been drinking from on the Kshlav’o.
He ignored the fact he’d probably just made an ass of himself in front of their security detail. “That’s deep wine, right?”
“Yes.” She sounded pretty happy about that recognition. They’d never had it before, so it had been a solid guess on his part. She reached for a glass before she asked, “would you like some?”
Alex mulled it over for a few seconds. “I think that is in order.”
Carbon poured him a much larger portion than she had, hurrying over to the ornate looking acceleration couch as the shuttle’s engines spooled up. The lane they were sort-of abusing was kept clear of non-diplomatic traffic, letting them depart the planet at will after clearing with the local tower that no one else was on approach. The late hour and the lack of dignitaries traveling to Berkley basically guaranteed they had a clear launch window. Alex was standing next to it and sank into what may have been actual leather upholstery covering the conformal gel.
She settled into the couch with far more grace than he had, handing him his glass after getting situated. “A toast, I think, is appropriate? To family?”
Alex laughed as he clinked his glass to hers. “Sure, to family. Maybe it would have been more appropriate at dinner, but it’s the thought that counts.”
“Ah. The details of toasting were not laid out as clearly as they could have been.” Still, she smiled and drank. “We have a similar custom, but it is only to be started by the host. Others may add things once that has been done.”
“Huh.” Alex took a long drink of the wine - dry and lightly fruity, with a bit of spice in it. Definitely stronger than the wine he’d had in the past - and made note of that particular custom. It hadn’t been mentioned in the primer and would definitely go into one of the first reports he wrote. Which he would get around to doing soon, he promised himself. It was his job. “I’m glad I haven’t been to any formal dinners, I would have screwed that up.”
“I am sure you would have been forgiven.”
“Probably. I imagine I would suffer some form of wrath from Eleya.” He swirled the wine as the window across the cabin went from the brightly lit gray hanger walls to the darkness of the night sky. It wasn’t a real window, just a display showing an external view. No one puts windows on spaceships unless it’s for tourists.
Carbon snorted and laughed at the same time, a hint of a little cackle hidden in there. This clearly had tickled her in a way that Alex didn’t understand. “She would have acted upset, I am sure, but according to Neya she does like you. Particularly that your presence disrupts everyone else. An agent of a sort of chaos, at her disposal.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. This whole time I thought it was because I was just a guileless commoner. Makes me feel nice and used.”
“That is how she makes everyone feel.” She finished what little was in her glass and leaned over to kiss him. “So that you do not feel too important, or alone.”
“Yeah, I got that impression.” He returned the kiss before finishing his wine. It was surprisingly easy to drink, and the Tsla’o sized glass wasn’t a large serving. “Everyone else is there to do what she wants.”
“Effectively, yes. She is the Empress.” The sky faded from ink blue to truly black as they left the atmosphere. Carbon got up and retrieved the bottle, now safe from turbulence, and refilled her glass halfway before topping his off.
“Yup. Comes with the territory, I would imagine.”
“It does.” She sipped her wine and nestled against him. “On second consideration... She does seem to have a genuine affection for Neya, even if she is often an instrument for her.”
Alex swirled the wine, thinking that statement over. “Makes sense.”
She made a derisive little chuff, ears perked up a little bit at the absurdity she’d just heard him speak. “How does it make sense?”
“Neya’s a contra. Takes your place, is you when she’s wearing the right clothes. Right?”
Carbon did not seem to get where he was going, her reply tentative as she shook her head. “It is more complex than just that, and I do not think contra is the right term for her.”
That piqued his interest. He pulled up the internal translation database and prepared the system to perform an edit. “Translator always tells me contra, like reversed colors. What is she supposed to be called? Nice and slow so I can capture it and update my dictionary.”
“Zeshen.” She enunciated it clearly and slowly as asked, pausing for a second afterwards. “Second soul. It is a comprehensive term for them.”
“Huh. Zay-shen. Sounds nicer than contra.” He finalized the change and set it to not translate that particular word since ‘palette swap’ and ‘second soul’ felt like astronomically different concepts. “Anyway, like I was saying. Neya is like a surrogate you. Eleya seems to regret whatever she did that wrecked your relationship. I mean, she married us because she wants you to be happy, to begin mending your relationship, and thought throwing me at the problem would make it happen. I don’t think she wanted me to tell you that, but whatever. I can’t believe she’d ransack my memories and come away thinking I wouldn’t.”
She stared at the window before she drained her glass and stepped away to refill it, fully this time. “I... I do not know.”
“What?”
“I do not know what to do with this information.” Carbon blanched and shotgunned the full glass in one go before leaving it there on the bar and returning to the couch. “We were close for many years. I am told that when I was very young, I had actually thought she was my sister. For some time, she felt she was.”
“Tashen said she drove a wedge between you two. Had to do with, ah... Royal life or something. He wasn’t very specific.” Alex was kind of done with getting details that were not very detailed, particularly when it pertained to the well being of people he cared about.
“She explained how my life was going to be. How I was currency, or a sword, or a shield for her. Depending on what she needed. If I was not to be a weapon somehow, I would be married off and I would keep whoever I was given to happy even if I was not. I was terrified. My parents were both away and...” She trailed off before curling up against him and resting her head on his shoulder with a sniff. “It was so confusing. I was six. I thought she intended to give me away to someone right then. I hid in the attics of the castle for two days before Tashen found me.”
Alex wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “That’s... Really fucked up.”
Carbon sniffed again and was silent for a moment before she laughed weakly. “That word is too flexible.”
“Yeah, fair. It is.” He smiled and stroked the top of her head. “I think Eleya knows she fu- that she screwed that up. I get the impression she’s been trying to make it up to you but... doesn’t understand that she needs to start in a way that is meaningful to you. I can’t blame you for not wanting to let her back in after that.”
“Good. You seem to have given her an opportunity to repair what she has broken.” She sighed. “But I do not know.”
“Whatever you want to do, I’ve got your back. As much good as that will do when dealing with her, anyway.” Alex finished off his wine and set the glass down.
She reached up and directed his face to hers to kiss him softly, the hint of a smile on her lips. “Even if it does no good, it means everything to me.”