Chapter 2: The Steward

"The Ancestors left so little behind. If only we could speak with them, learn from their triumphs and mistakes. If only."

-Merley Tipple, Commonwealth anthropologist, 177 U.E.

A sudden noise made Taira jerk. Looking up, she found that it was only Stephan setting down a plate of eggs, beans, and bacon in front of her. He gave another to Yin, on the other side of the table, who immediately dug in with ravenous appetite.

“Eat up,” Stephan said. “This is the last of the bacon. Doubt I’ll get my hands on more anytime soon, with the trade routes being what they are.”

Taira managed a grateful nod. Stephan set off to prepare himself for the day’s tribulations, working on tying his tie. She forced down some food, if for no other reason than to avoid seeming rude. Her stomach tightened, pulsing with discomfort.

“You’re too twitchy,” Yin remarked, one cheek stuffed with egg. She waved her table knife in Taira’s general direction. “The captain wasn’t like that. Not much that could take her by surprise. Oh, and she sat different, too. You’re all ladylike and stuff, but Quintilla sat like this.” Yin affected a slouched, cocksure posture. Legs spread, one arm over the backrest. “See?”

“Noted,” Taira said with utter seriousness. She tried to imitate the girl’s posture, but it just felt silly. “So, ahem, Yin. How have you been since I saw you last?”

Yin shrugged. “It’s been fine. Dad guilt-tripped me into starting school. It seems really boring, but…” Yin turned away her face, a slight blush on her cheeks. “...But it might be kinda fun, too, I guess.”

Taira smiled. “I’m glad. I’ll help you with your studies when I find the time. Has Stephan been a decent father so far?”

“Considering he’s the first dad I ever had, I’ve got no complaints. Well, I’ve got little complaints, but I don’t really feel like sharing them with you. No offense.”

Taira blinked, a little taken aback. “Why’s that?”

“Oh, on account of how you broke his heart and shat on the pieces. But who cares, right?” Yin fished the last of a yolky egg onto her fork and slipped it into her mouth.

“I’m sorry that’s how you remember it.”

Yin just shook her head and returned her attention to the plate in front of her.

A man in uniform came in through the back to speak with Stephan. “Everyone is in the city,” he said. “Some are at the fort, some are finding alternate accommodations.”

Stephan wiped his hands on a rag and threw it on the counter. “My, my! They actually came! I expected half of them to cancel last minute.” Money changed hands, and the uniformed man offered him a respectful nod, before leaving as quickly as he’d come.

“I suppose this council will happen after all,” Taira said with some trepidation.

“It sure is. You’ve got a day to get ready. You wanted to go back to your ship in the meantime, right?”

Taira nodded.

“Fair. I’ll arrange for transport. Yin, you’ll keep an eye on the bar while we’re gone, won’t you?”

Yin stuck out her tongue. “Maybe I’ll just let it burn down. You know that’s what’d happen if you went a day without me.”

Stephan stroked his chin. “Hmm, I wonder. I distinctly remember a certain someone running away from home for about—”

“Point taken, point taken!” Yin called, waving her arms for her father to stop, face taking on a deep shade of purple.

Taira gave the rest of her food to Yin, who seemed eager for seconds, and readied herself for departure. She checked her gun holster at least three times, making sure it hung properly from her hip, and redid a loose braid. She and Stephan headed for the door, but she found herself distracted by a particular piece of treasure on the trinket-laden walls.

A perfect sphere, a little larger than a clenched fist. Jet black, but with cosmic swirls trapped within, impossible complexities that spun before her eyes in an array of colors. Almost without realizing, she had stepped closer to it, one hand outstretched. An electric tension ran in the air between her fingers and the sphere. What secrets did it hold?

“Taira!” Stephan called, propping open the front door with his foot. “Sorry, I mean Quintilla. Should probably practice that. Anyway, come along. Our ride’s waiting.”

Taira snapped out of it and hurried to catch up. They went outside together, and the sphere was soon half-forgotten. A dark red rumbler waited by the side of the road, impeccably clean compared to most vehicles in Tumba. A driver waited there, one hand on the roof.

“You’ve changed,” Taira said to Stephan as they seated themselves inside the rumbler. You’re more confident. People listen to you. Maybe I should take notes.”

Stephan considered for a moment, a thumb against his lips. “I don’t think I’ve changed much at all,” he said. “I just realized what’s important to me, and how far I’m willing to go to protect it.”

Taira struggled to let those words sink in as the rumbler took off. Regardless of what he himself thought, that sounded nothing like the old Stephan.

*****

Stephan walked up the ramp of the Quickdraw, Taira beside him. They were greeted by Kurko at the mouth of the cargo bay, and they all went inside. Stephan had forgotten the somewhat sickening feeling of going from the sleek, streamlined exterior of the ship to the maze-like, ever-shifting, geometrically impossible interior.

Shzkh and Gkhzj, the two kithraxi deckhands, rushed into the large room as soon as they heard the commotion and threw themselves at their queen like lovesick puppies. Taira gave them some claps, a scratch behind the mandibles each, and sent them on their way.

“Not much has changed around here, huh?” Stephan asked, looking around the nearly empty cargo bay.

“Well…” Taira protested.

A multitude of see-through cubes, each the size of a thumbnail, emerged from the floor. They flew into the air, combining and coalescing, more and more of them until they took on the rough shape of a person. Its skin smoothed out, and a face formed on its blank head, features androgynous and stiff. Robes formed over the doll-like, bland body, but the scalp remained bald.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

The person, thing, whatever it was, approached Stephan with slow, measured steps. “Ooh,” it crooned. “You complied with my request. This is a male of your species, correct?”

“Uh…” Stephan said, slowly backing away as the thing reached out to touch him. “What in all hells is this?”

Taira and Kurko shared a look. “I think it’s better if they explain,” she said with some hesitation.

The creature returned to a neutral position. “I am called Eos. I am the ship steward of Ephoriaxim. It is my duty to operate all essential functions of the vessel, counseling the crew in the event of emotional distress, and providing any other form of assistance which my designated captain commands.” Its face contorted in a grimace that was likely meant to be a smile, and it offered up one closed fist. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I have long wished to meet a human male of this time period.”

“I… see.” Stephan nodded towards Eos’s hand. “And what does that mean?”

Eos’s hairless brows drooped comically low in a frown. “I believe it is what humans refer to as a ‘fist bump’. It is a sign of familiarity and kinship. I am attempting to put you at ease with my approachable and friendly demeanor.”

Stephan couldn’t help but laugh as he returned the fist bump. “You’re doing a bang-up job so far.”

“They appeared not long after you left the Quickdraw,” Taira explained. “I think the little ones got to some button that activated them. Thankfully, they have acted as a stellar surrogate pilot in Kazzul’s absence.”

“Then, this thing was designed by the Ancestors?” Stephan asked, starting to realize the potential of what that meant. “Can you tell us anything about them? What were they like? How did they die?”

Eos stared blankly through him. “You wish to learn about my creators. I regret to inform you that this ship contains no historical records, as it was not a scientific or exploratory vessel. I possess little contextual information about my existence.”

“Then… what was this ship designed for?”

“It was an escape shuttle.”

“We have been through this whole rigamarole already,” Kurko said in his rumbling bass. “Cook, mind yourself for a minute while I have a word with the captain.”

“Sure,” Stephan said, waving absent-mindedly as Kurko and Taira left. “So, what do you know? Surely, if you’re meant to be a ship steward, you were built with some kind of information.”

“Certainly. I was programmed with the knowledge that this ship was called the Ephoriaxim, before the captain’s amphibian former representative changed it. I also come with a fully illustrated instruction manual detailing all functions of the ship, should you decide that my handing of any area is inadequate.”

“So you speak the Ancestor tongue?”

“Three of them, yes. Would you like to hear?”

“Yes. How do you say ‘fuck you’ in Ancestor?”

Eos’s glowing countenance shuddered, momentarily separating back into cubes before reforming. “Approximately translated, it would be ‘aka ainu’.”

Stephan nodded, pursing his lips. “Succinct. Not bad. Oh, we could sell a transcription of these languages to the Elandrans or the LIS and be filthy rich. Have you got anything else?”

“Only one feature of note. I have been programmed with the destinations of over two hundred habitable worlds within the known cosmos. These can be accessed via, as you would call it, ‘waystones’, such as the one located in the chamber I was stolen from.”

“So, the Ancestors traveled all over the Beyond? That’s so… Wait, stole you?”

“You did not have permission to abscond with me.”

“Sure, but your creators were dead for untold millennia. Saved you is more like it.”

“An interesting viewpoint. However, I believe your logic is flawed. I am not a person, and therefore cannot be enslaved, imprisoned, or abandoned. I was not programmed with the capacity to process any of those concepts on an emotional level. Secondly, ownership—”

“Codes, enough!” Stephan cried, throwing up his hands. “I get it, alright?”

Eos slowly tilted their head until it was propped on his shoulders at an impossible angle. “I believe I have offended you. I wish to amend my statement. I was not stolen. I was borrowed indefinitely with the express intent of unlicensed use.” Their head popped back up, and they nodded to themselves with pride.

“Thanks. That makes me feel a lot better.”

“Possible sarcasm detected. I have not yet fully grasped this concept. Please explain it to me so I may better simulate your kind. You see—”

“Eos, enough!” Kurko called, entering from another room. “We would like some privacy.”

Without another word, Eos scattered into pieces and disappeared through the floor. Kurko walked through the spot where he had just been, heavy footfalls thundering, his muscled form looming high over Stephan. His cold breath made clouds from his nostrils.

He didn’t look very happy.

“Where’s Taira?” Stephan asked.

“In her cabin, recovering from everything you’ve put her through. I cannot believe this sick plan of yours. I advised her against it, but she put her faith in you.” His shoulders bunched up, nostrils flared, eyes narrowed. “You’ve finally shown your true colors, haven’t you, little man?”

Stephan didn’t back away. He remembered having once been deathly afraid of the demi-giant, but now, in the face of his rage, he felt nothing.

“I don’t like it either,” Stephan said. “Sadly, this is our only option. I’ll be with her every step of the way. And when the Concord pisses off from the Free Cities, she can hang up her hat and never think about this stuff again.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? This’ll put scars on her, Lordling. Besides, it’s disrespectful.”

“Why? Quintilla’s coming back any day now, right? Isn’t that what you always used to say?”

“Don’t mock me,” Kurko growled. His fists clenched. “I… have accepted her fate. She is dead. Were she alive, she would have found a way to return by now.”

Stephan crossed his arms. “Then you must be loving this. Maybe that’s why you’re so against my plan. Because deep down, you know it’s exactly what you want. It’s the closest you’ll ever get to seeing her again.”

Stephan was hoisted into the air—one of Kurko’s oversized ham hands gripping the front of his suit—so that they were face to face. “Take back those words.” Kurko’s eyes were slits, burning with anger.

Stephan’s legs dangled uselessly. He could have reached for the Rivello inside his jacket, but he decided against it. “Careful. I have powerful friends these days. Ones even a big man like you would do well to be afraid of.”

“They won’t save you. I could snap you like a twig here and now.”

“And risk angering your captain? Please. We both know you can’t touch me.”

Kurko grumbled something in his native tongue, then let Stephan go. He fell to the floor, stumbled to his knees, and swiftly stood back up.

“One day, Captain Wenezian will see through you, snake,” Kurko said, pointing one fat finger at Stephan’s face. “And when that happens, I will gladly dispose of you in any manner she sees fit.”

Stephan chuckled as he spun to leave. “You wish, big man. You wish.” He waved over his shoulder without looking back. “Just make sure Taira is ready tomorrow. We need everything to go smoothly at the council.”

Kurko did not answer.

Eos appeared next to Stephan as he crossed the cargo bay, moving in step with him. “Shall I manifest another cabin for you, sir?” he asked. “I gather that you are good friends and a former sexual partner of my captain.”

“No need,” Stephan said.

The steward made a shallow bow, then disappeared in a shower of cubes.

Stephan left the Quickdraw in his wake. He felt rather big, indeed, to have stood against a demi-giant without flinching.

Maybe I have changed, after all.