Lull

(Starspeak)

“You know this hot shower is actually the dryest I’ve been in three days?” I asked.

“You’re soaked from head to toe,” Jordan frowned.

“You heard me,” I said. “You just don’t get it because you got stay behind doing ‘logistics’ and ‘organization’.”

“Stayed dry the whole time too,” she said. “It was great.”

I grunted, trying not to sound jealous. I wasn’t. Jealous, that is. Donnie and I had done some great work. But it wasn’t easy or timely. The last three days had seen me plagued by nagging awareness that our original task had been interrupted.

But the Flotilla—the abductees as a whole were great at dealing with interruptions. Everything we did was just one more hurdle, speedbump, detour, or sidequest in the long journey we had to get back to Earth.

The trick to staying sane was finding things to enjoy.

Like hot showers.

Or in Jordan’s case, needling me while I took a shower.

“Hey, check these matrices,” she said, tossing me a psionic file.

“Come on Jordan, you can’t wait five minutes for me to be done?”

“You said I could use your gear,” she argued. “You want me to move it out of your quarters?”

“I wanted you to wait five minutes and let me finish my shower, but you skipped over that part.”

Perks of being stationed in the Jack’s captain’s quarters was the attached private bathroom and extra floor space to accommodate a small desk where I kept all my best psionic hardware goodies. Those two world’s were colliding now.

“I am skipping that part, so just check the matrices and I’ll be quiet.”

“They’re fine, and you know it,” I said, flinging the psionics back. “You are trying to bother me by pushing personal boundaries and trying to engage me in conversation while I am [butt ass naked!]”

“[Nice try, Caleb,]” Jordan taunted, utterly monotone. “[But you can’t trick me into thinking about you naked that easily. You’re certainly welcome to try…but I feel obligated to warn you that I’ll probably tattle on you to Madeline. Then she’ll get all jealous because she wants to be the one to talk to you naked, and then she’ll pester me about it—wait, hang on. That’s no good. We want her pestering you. Okay, this plan needs tweaking, I’ll admit.]”

“[Did Tasser really put you up to this, or are you just secretly the devil?]” I asked.

“[Pretty sure you cover the ‘devil’ role more than enough for the both of us,]” Jordan said without missing a beat.

“[Just throw me some clothes,]” I sighed. “[Or I’m going to march out into my cabin and then we’re going to roll the dice on whether or not the Flotilla needs a sexual harassment policy.]”

I had to admit, her aim was impressive. Even through the half-closed lavatory door, she threw a pair of sweatpants perfectly through the gap and got them tangled on the towel bar opposite the door instead of leaving them strewn on the floor.

Poking my head out the door, I confirmed that her back was turned the whole time, hunched over and absorbed with her psionic project at my desk. Conversation is a two-way street, I reminded myself. Jordan couldn’t mess with me while I didn’t respond.

Adept clothing was a godsend. Some people liked to Adept their whole outfit, but it could be awkward knowing you could dematerialize it by accident. Most people were like me, materializing clothing based on how nice it was to always have a fresh garment. Socks, underwear. That sort of thing. Shirts, pants and other larger garments were easier to screw up too. Simpler to just keep real copies of those.

Kraknor was often seeing me outside my favorite outfit though. Black and white with suspenders was good and all, but not in hurricane weather. Jordan had picked out sweatpants though. Comfort clothes.

We were staying in for the whole day. Probably the next one too.

Looking out my cabin’s window, I saw the rain reintensifying while I pulled on my softest comfiest shirt. The tag made me smile.

‘Made by Byr’.

No surname necessary.

I’d talked to that Farnata exactly one day in my life, and she was still sending me clothes every few months. Note to self, see about reimbursing her shipping costs. Or something else. Just make sure to find some way to pay her back.

“Explain to me exactly what you’re doing with my stuff?” I asked, roughly running a towel over my hair.

“The emergency network stuff gave me some inspiration for improving my ansible. I think it might be possible to reproduce in machine form, so I wanted to use your hardware to—”

She looked up from the device she was manipulating, instantly dialing in on my hair.

“—you shouldn’t dry your hair that vigorously. Just wrap it up, and let it sit. The friction is bad for it.”

“My hair isn’t that long,” I frowned. “I’m not going to wrap it up in a towel like a…”

“[Like a girl?]” Jordan joked. “[Your hair absolutely is that long though. It’s down to your shoulders, that’s longer than Drew’s.]”

“[Wait, you know how long Drew’s hair is?]”

“[Why wouldn’t I?]”

“[Did she suddenly stop being invisible?]”

“[I’m her sister,]” she said with a shrug. “[And aren’t you glossing over my big reveal?]”

“[You were pestering me while I showered,]” I accused. “[I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction.]”

“[Yeah, but you’re curious anyway,]” she said. “[Ansible improvements? That’s big.]”

“[Yes, congratulations. Any more precise of a timetable on when your ‘think it might be possible’ turns into something more definitive?]”

“[…Months, at least,]” she admitted.

“[Then drop what you’re doing and get the hell out of my quarters,]” I said, making for the door myself.

She paused while I stood at the cabin door. If not for my psionic senses, I’d have completely missed her shift in emotion. None of it played across her face, but her body language still hesitated.

Context implied the new emotion I sensed was doubt, or regret of some kind.

Psionics made us all better at nonverbal communication. Even when were weren’t resorting to telepathy.

So, when I looked at her expectantly, she folded.

“[Did I overstep here?]” she asked. “[The ribbing? Seemed like it was in good fun, but joking about you and Madeline, or how you’re in the shower. Was it too much?]”

“[Nah,]” I decided. “[I won’t pretend like it doesn’t bother me, but joshing like that is fun too.]”

“[I trust you to push back,]” she said. “[To let me know when I’m over the line.]”

“[I will make sure you know well before that point,]” I assured her.

“[…So you’re actually locking up quarters?]” she said.

“[Habit,]” I told her. “[I know you and Shinshay are casual as hell about your bunk, but I keep all my best psionic toys in my sleeping space.]”

“And we have [darn rootin’] Vorak aboard!” she joked.

“Oh, there they are,” someone called from the Jack’s mess. “It sounds like Caleb’s being racist toward [otters] again.”

Instead of dignifying the kid—Jonathan—with a protest that it was Jordan being so untrusting of our guests, I just materialized a gallon of water above his head as I slid down the ladder.

He sat in soaked stunned silence while he waited to see if I’d leave him wet or dematerialize the liquid. I did, after a few seconds. Just enough to make him feel uncomfortable in the suddenly damp beanbag chair.

The Jack crew was assembled in full force. Except ‘force’ was the exact opposite term to describe us. I was in sweats and thick fuzzy socks. Nai was luxuriating in a hammock she’d magnetized to the ceiling. This was the closest this crew had gotten to leisure time since coming to the planet, and that included the beach party with the Missionary Marines.

Looking out the window, rain poured and battered as the storm went on. We’d done our part. So far, at least. But there was nothing more we could do to help with the storm, so we were retreated to our own safe haven.

Ironic that the safest spot in the city right now was the spaceport reservoir. Or maybe it wasn’t. You couldn’t exactly flood it, and not just because it was already full of water. The reservoir itself was far enough from the ocean to have some elevation to keep the water back. But even the rain and wind couldn’t disrupt the ships and landing pads floating on its surface.

The whole reservoir was engineered down to the floor and deeper. It was more akin to the world’s largest swimming pool than a lake. Except it wasn’t this world’s largest. And it was bigger than a lot of lakes.

But water remained nice and level, well below the earthen levees encircling it. Only heavy raindrops splashed down on the surface. I suspected the air-barriers normally used for orbital launches were being repurposed to affect the wind.

Whatever the case, a hurricane raged outside while we were cozy and warm like Christmas morn’.

The only crew member not immediately present was Sid, who I knew was taking his relaxation time in the absence of the munchkins. They were trustworthy enough to watch themselves while aboard the Jack but since most of the crew was gathered in the mess/lounge anyway there were plenty of adults to keep eyes on them.

Tox was playing simultaneous chess games with three of them. I couldn’t tell how well he was doing.

Jordan and I ended up plopping down on the couch next to Tasser. My friend set down his book with our arrival. It was written in a Casti language I didn’t know.

“So what did you get up to yesterday?” Tasser asked me.

“Diving,” I answered. “A ton of it. I think Donnie and I went into the water twenty times each. It was insane how many people were still stuck out on the water. That would never happen on Earth.”

“I dunno, this storm did veer off path by like three hundred miles,” Jordan said. “In fact, that probably made it even worse because people trying to avoid the storm probably came here.”

“Did you get a look at the coast?” I asked Tasser.

“Yes. It didn’t actually look like there were that many boats out there,” Tasser admitted.

“That’s because they all ran out of fuel by the second day,” I said. “Any ship that didn’t make it into port by the first night capsized sooner or later. More of them sooner. Nemuleki had Lorel, Corphica, and Wurshken in a boat, and their only job that second day was to get fuel to stalled ships.”

“They dropped anchor out there?” Jordan asked.

I nodded.

“Nothing else to do for a lot of them. The breakwater effort blocked off a lot of beach space. And a ton of the coast is already fitted with breakwater structures. Any boat trying to ride the tides into shore on those spots is just going to get pulverized. Or worse, capsize before it gets there. Dropping anchor in deeper water apparently lets you angle the boat into the waves more safely, but I don’t know how well that really worked,” I said.

“[Tetrapods,]” Jordan said.

“What?”

“The concrete things up and down the coast, they’re called [tetrapods] in English.”

“We have ‘em back on Earth?”

“Half of Japan’s coastline is covered in them,” Jordan nodded.

“What do you know about Japan?” I asked. “Aren’t you from the most landlocked parts of Canada?”

“[You oafish simpleton, I’m from Manitoba, not Alberta. And we do in fact have the internet there.]”

“I’m ignoring you,” I said, turning back to Tasser. “The point is… boats were capsizing so frequently that Donnie and I were having to leave rescued Vorak in the water wearing life jackets so we could make it to the next boat that tipped over. By the time Nemuleki’s boat would reach them, we’d already be diving for the next boat.”

“Isn’t diving and quickly resurfacing dangerous? Can’t it mess up the internal pressure in your body?” Tasser asked.

“It did,” I nodded. “It’s called [the bends] in English—oooh, add that to the dictionary. I don’t think we have that one yet. But we were never diving that deep or that long. So it didn’t come up too much. The times it did happen, it was in my gut.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“There’s a section in the spacewalk manual about depressurization sickness,” Jordan pointed out. “Diving isn’t the only way you can [fuck up] the gasses in your body.”

“Oh yeah,” Tasser nodded. “I forgot about that. It’s really only a factor if go on a spacewalk, but most ships nowadays use air barrier redundancies.”

“Are you sure you passed the same spaceship training as we did?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Tasser said defensively. “…It’s just been eleven years. Training standards change.”

“Ooo, I’m captain of this ship now. Does that mean I can force you do recertification?” I grinned.

“Try it, and I’ll redouble my efforts to set you up with Madeline.”

I glared at him.

“Careful Tasser. Aren’t you threatening him with a good time?”

I glared at Jordan too.

“You two are awful about this,” I complained.

“Caleb, you barely blink when you unexpectedly have to perform highly risky storm rescue dives, gunfire doesn’t even make you flinch anymore, and it takes an Adept of Nai’s caliber to even begin to daunt you. Your love life is just about the only prospect we have to really rattle you with,” Jordan said.

“Okay, but what do I have to do to get you to drop it?”

“I’d consider a détente if you admit your crush,” Tasser said.

“Hey, wait—” Jordan said.

But before she could convince him otherwise, I spoke up.

“I like Madeline.”

Jordan blinked in surprise for a second, because I admitted it so readily, I guess. But she quickly recovered, swatting my friend on the shoulder.

“Dang it, Tasser! We already knew that. You just conceded for nothing.”

“Yeah, but we made him acknowledge it,” Tasser preened. “It’ll be worth it. Eventually.”

“You guys have way too much fun trying to mess with me,” I said. “That wasn’t that hard to admit.”

“That hard?” Tasser noted archly. “Implying that it was at least somewhat difficult?”

“I thought you said if I admitted it, you’d drop it.”

“I said I’d consider it. You bargained quite poorly.”

Oh, I was definitely going to abuse my captain’s privilege’s and hit him with extra chores.

That was our day. All of it.

Hanging out on board the Jack, playing games psionic and otherwise, reading, and otherwise just chatting the hours away.

What else was there to do?

It felt like there should have been something. Some critical optimization to make, some pressing task to accomplish or special contact to speak with.

But…nope.

We couldn’t phone anyone in the city, there was a hurricane outside! We were already chock full of our own plans, so we didn’t need to add to them right now. Everyone we needed to talk to would be busy with their own hurricane concerns.

“This might be the most fun I’ve had since getting abducted,” I admitted later.

Nai and I were the only ones left playing one of Ben’s psionic games—a modified concept of a first-person-shooter where your character couldn’t move. Nobody liked playing psionic games with me especially, but at this particular one, Nai was just as oppressive to face. Her radar bolstered her spatial reasoning too much. She could bounce her projectiles off more than a dozen surfaces before they reached her target. Trying to block her was like playing a game of billiards where you didn’t have to wait for the balls to stop moving.

I kept up with sheer speed, but she was probably going to win this round.

“You’re talking about more than just today,” she sensed.

“A lot of people died these past few days. A lot of them on my watch; I mean, we couldn’t save everyone. So many of the people we pulled out of the water were corpses already. I don’t want to think about how many didn’t make it afterward…”

“…But you still had a ton of fun,” Nai surmised.

“Yeah. Getting to help people like that? Doing something that matters? Not just that, it was exciting and challenging. I feel bad that I don’t feel worse about the past few days. This was probably the worst day of a lot of Voraks’ lives. But I just can’t feel the same way, but I’m not sure why.”

“Could be because they’re strangers?”

“Nah, their deaths do bother me, it’s just…I didn’t have to worry about anything. It was just rescue anyone we could.”

“There was no enemy,” Nai declared.

Yeah.

“Yeah. It’s a hurricane. Just a force of nature. Sure people screwed up, and the city could have been more prepared. Sure there were belligerent idiots who probably got people killed in this mess. But it didn’t have anything to do with me. No AIs. No abductors. No one was after us.”

“A perfect interruption,” Nai said. “A [sidequest].”

Hah.

“Well, I am supposed to be on vacation.”

“Fighting a hurricane does sound like our kind of vacation,” she admitted. “But I’m not sure if Serral will be relieved or mortified that you only managed to relax when the storm reached its worst point.”

I wasn’t sure though. Maybe she hadn’t seen quite as bad of rain and wind on the shore, but the storm right now didn’t seem to be any worse than what Donnie and I had done our rescue work under.

“Got you,” she grinned.

She took advantage of the split-second distraction when I looked out the window, and she’d snuck a shot by my defenses in the game.

I frowned. She’d ricocheted the winning shot less than the ones before. She’d been luring me too, so I’d be a moment late to react when the fewer bounces saw it arrive sooner than expected.

Ah, we’d just been playing for fun.

“Nice,” I complimented. “Probably a good stopping point, right?”

“Sure.”

“Hey Sid,” Nai called out. “I’ll watch the munchkins while you sit down with the Vorak, yeah?”

“Thanks,” he said, rising to join me.

Lazy Sunday was blissful, but this storm had interrupted our business in progress.

Halax, Tox, and Peudra awaited Jordan, Sid, and I in the Jack’s medical ward. Without Dyn or Nerin aboard, the place felt a bit neglected.

“So,” I said. “Let’s talk Ingrid.”

“Cadrune has left us means to contact her,” Halax reported. “Ostensibly, at least. I left a simple message asking for a response the two days ago, but haven’t heard a reply yet.”

“It’s totally possible they’re not in as good a position as us,” Sid pointed out. “Not everyone can weather the hurricane in a spaceport.”

“If they really are in peril, all the more reason to respond to the Jack’s hail,” Tox said. “Ingrid was the one who suggested to Caleb this crew join the emergency efforts.”

“We would have anyway,” Jordan shrugged.

“Likely,” Tox said. “But the point is that Ingrid and Cadrune should know we’re eager and able to help. Yet they still haven’t responded. Sid is right that they might simply be occupied with their own affairs, but that’s more concerning, I think. Because it means Cadrune is likely keeping us from communicating.”

“I doubt it,” I admitted. “I think she’s [ghosting us].”

What a relief it was that phrase was unfamiliar to even Halax. There were a lot of things to say when Nora and I finally crossed paths again, but if her campers had been spewing Gen Z speak, I might have pushed that to the top of the list.

“You don’t think it’s Cadrune?”

“It’s impossible to know for sure, but she contacted me psionically and cut the line herself. Whatever the case, she didn’t say much, and she didn’t seem like she was in trouble,” I said. “I’d love nothing more than to make her our top priority, but I’m not sure we can as long as she’s willing to duck us.”

“You’re not just giving up, though,” Jordan said. “Are you?”

“I said we can’t make her the top priority, not that she wouldn’t be a priority at all. We’ll keep trying angles with Cadrune and asking around about her. If she’s been in this city more than a year? Someone somewhere knows something about her. Nobody resorts to radio silence without a reason.”

“Sometimes the reason is stupid,” Sid reminded me.

“We’ll burn that bridge when we have to,” I said grimly.

“Then while she takes a back burner, are we focusing on the corpse?” Tasser asked.

“Got it in one,” I said.

“Wise,” Halax said. “Ingrid’s advice, however moral or not, has the consequence of raising your esteem in the city. Human efforts will not have gone unnoticed, and that goodwill can be called upon in the search.”

“I don’t know if I care to take advice from an otter who’s still part of the fleet who lost these corpses in the first place,” I said.

Halax merely cocked his head. I hadn’t actually contradicted him, and we both knew it.

“I’m not technically part of the Red Sails anymore,” Tox pointed out. “Does my advice still weigh in?”

“You’re an opportunistic coward,” I said without hesitating. “Moving on.”

“Forgive me for this slight, but it physically pains me to watch you try conducting a meeting, Caleb,” Peudra chimed in. “I think if all your enemies could see you try to organize your people, they would all drown in embarrassment for having lost to this eddy-brained group.”

“Peudra, because you’re my favorite, I’m going to be honest with you; every word you just said fills me with joy. I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of the people I choose to surround myself with.”

I shared some fist bumps with Tasser and Nai, who seemed equally happy with Peudra’s dismay. Jordan and Sid at least had the dignity to look ashamed to enjoy it. But they did join in the fist bumps.

“Hopeless as you all are, the general idea is a good one. I can’t say for sure exactly how many favors the Jack’s crew has banked, but I can say they likely aren’t canned.”

“Canned?” I asked.

“Long shelf-life,” Jordan elaborated.

“Yes. If you intend to leverage your goodwill to find the corpses? The best time to do so would be as soon as possible after the storm clears.”

“Makes sense,” I nodded. “How many locations do we have in the city itself? Eight? Nine? The rest are either up the coast or scattered among the islands northwest of here. If we call in the right favors, that shouldn’t take more than a week, less if we’re smart about how we split up.”

“Oh, right. You don’t know yet,” Peudra said. “Caleb, the storm’s not going away that quickly.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t we get a broadcast about it receding? The emergency network called it out.”

“Receding, in this case, is actually a bad thing,” Tox said. “The core of the storm never made landfall. Came within a few miles, but it turned back. It’s going to go back out to sea for a while, but it will build back up and hit again.”

“…Not here though, surely,” I said. “Right?...Right?”

“Impossible to say for another few days,” Tox said. “I’ll link you the satellite data the city shared.”

“I’m not thanking you for doing the bare minimum,” I said, feeling like I might have been too chummy with the rak the last few minutes.

“Oh, I wouldn’t imagine you thanking me,” Tox said. “You lack the intelligence and the manners to do so.”

There we go. All is as it should be.

Since the storm was receding, we might even be able to get a jump on hunting the Korbanok corpse as early as tomorrow. That would be nice.

But before our little strategy check-in wrapped up, I caught Peudra’s eye. They got the implicit message, and hung back while everyone else left.

“You’re wanting an update from me specifically,” they surmised. Not a question.

“Corpse is at the top of my list, but I know what’s on yours too. Where are you at?”

“All relevant parties have been contacted,” they confirmed. “They should be entering the system within days, and landing on this planet soon after.”

“If the hurricane comes back anywhere near this region, airspace is going to get shut down. That will affect arrivals, won’t it?”

“No, because I was thinking of accelerating the timetable: landing everyone’s ships while the storm is out to sea,” they said simply. “If the summit takes as long as we think it should, the hurricane itself might cover the tracks.”

I grinned.

“See, this is why you’re my favorite Vorak,” I said. “You are so formal, mannered, and proper most of the time, but when it comes down to the teeth, you’re just as crazy as the rest of us. No wonder you fit in so well around here.”

“Really? ‘Down to the teeth’? I wouldn’t have expected a Vorak turn of phrase like that from you.”

“Well right up until you impressed me there, I wouldn’t have expected you to be so bold. You’re already sneaking ships past two militaries. You want to have them race a hurricane too?”

They got a solemn look on their face.

“What are my alternatives, really?” the said quietly. “No one outside the Flotilla or the relevant parties can learn it’s happening. Could you imagine how badly it might turn out?”

“I’m a human flying a Coalition-crewed ship in Vorak space,” I said. “I know exactly the kind of risks you’re running.”

“Maybe I’m losing my nerve, but I’m finding myself second guessing if it’s worth it.”

“It is,” I said. “Trust me. It’s a great idea.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re involved. And you benefit immensely if my little plan comes to fruition. If Humans weren’t in the equation…I can’t stop myself from wondering.”

“Don’t bother,” I shrugged. “We are part of the equation. But even if we weren’t, you’d still try anyway. You’re too brave and arrogant to do otherwise.”

“Arrogant?” they asked, genuinely confused.

“Brazen, disrespectful, condescending, don’t all those words describe what you’re up to?”

“Not condescending,” they frowned.

“Sure it is,” I said. “You basically telling millions of people they’re wrong for caring so much about killing some people. I don’t think you’re wrong either. Some people out there need to take some condescension every now and then.”

Peudra barked a hollow laugh.

“I suppose you’re right. It is arrogant of me.”

“Brilliant too, though,” I said. “Worthy.”

“If you approve so much, then doesn’t make you just as arrogant?”

“Sure does,” I grinned. “I didn’t always have this much of an ego, but I’ve been hanging out inside Nai’s head for a few years now. It’s hard not to grow one when you know what that kind of competence feels like firsthand.”

“Just so long as we keep it in check, right?”

“Yeah.”

The day ended as uneventfully as it began, I fed a dozen messages—psionic and otherwise—into the Jack’s comm queue, and went to sleep.

The next morning, we set off to tangle with looters and more.