With little else on his plate, Russell Winters took his time walking through the corridors and facilities of the Event Horizon. More than a few curious civilians who weren’t aware of his identity nodded or waved his way, surprised to see a new face after so long aboard. He returned the greetings briefly but carried on towards the rear of the ship, his confident stride impressing upon those he met that he had somewhere to go and something to do. The reality wasn’t quite that demanding, but it allowed him to avoid any sort of prolonged discussion, or any discussion beyond a simple nod of his head or a single word to acknowledge a passerby. Deep down he couldn’t help but feel adrift or alone. For the first time since he’d lost the Lancer not even Io was around to chat. That wasn’t exactly true, of course, but she was with Veera and Asha, and he did not want to be seen conversing with the ceiling.
So instead he continued through mostly empty corridors, lightly used thanks to the marvel that was the tube system and the fact that most everyone was at their job or station given the hour of the day. The midpoint of the ship was actually quite easy to spot, with the gently sloping, white hallways of the civilian half giving way to defined edges and metallic gray of the military. When those long stretches of metal and polymer began to blend together, the novelty of the ship itself having long worn off, the Jumper fell into reflection as so many humans do in times of solitude. Given his conversation with Natori earlier in the day, it was perhaps natural that his thoughts eventually turned to Jess and the others. Emotions once raw and crippling felt muted and distant, the passive mask on his face only giving way when he cursed and chastised himself, upset that he couldn’t remember Jess’ face as clearly as he wanted to. With his personal effects also blown to smithereens, it would be many more months until he could see her again the way he wanted to, smiling and clothed like a civilian in photographs saved on his personal devices back home. He resolved not to get upset at Kaczynski if the Admiral chose to do something involving the stock photographs taken of every member of the HEL for just such an occasion, the ones with forced smiles, uniforms, and flags in the background. Finding himself in yet another empty corridor, save a passing maintenance bot, he felt comfortable muttering a quiet thank you to Veera, recalling the first time she’d told him about her parents and the ‘dull ache’ that their passing had left behind. He thought he understood better what she meant by calling it a scar that never truly faded.
After half an hour or so, which consisted of a couple stops to check his location within the orbiting behemoth that was the Event Horizon, Russell finally arrived at a familiar junction, the area just outside the armory proper where he’d ‘introduced himself’ to Lipper’s squad. Finding the place to be blessedly quiet and devoid of cocky, bombastic Jumpers, Russell walked through the automatic doors, nodding his head as weapons and munitions of all types greeted him. All were locked and stowed according to HEL protocol, of course, so he didn’t exactly have free reign to try out what looked to be the newest version of humanity’s shoulder-fired rocket launcher. Instead, he nodded approvingly at what appeared to be remote detonated airburst shells before moving along the line towards a shooting range style storefront and workshop built into the back of the armory. Russell didn't bother trying to hide his surprise when he recognized the graying Persian man behind the counter.
“Darius?”
The well built master at arms glanced up from a book he was reading, real paper and ink, to furrow his brow at the young man. “Two weeks. I was wondering if you were going to stop in and say hello. Didn’t think Marshall Winters’ son was that ungrateful. I assume those two weapons I received this morning are yours then?” he asked, placing his bookmark and slowly unlocking the door to his range. Despite Winters’ slight height advantage, Darius had some choice words for him as the two men stood face to face. “Next time you decide to pick fights in my neck of the woods, the sparring room is right over there,” he growled, pointing over his shoulder to another, nondescript door in the gray wall of the armory.
“I finished that one, Darius. Didn’t start it,” Winters insisted, standing his ground.
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t take that one at face value, Rusty. My memory isn’t gone yet and I seem to recall more than a handful of brawls that ended up in the ring after you started em.”
“Yeah well, you can ask my wife about this one. Don’t worry, sounds like they’re back in action already.”
Darius cocked his dark eyebrows at Winters, sizing him up. “Now you wouldn’t joke around with a well armed old man, would you?”
“Oh shut it, Darius. You don’t look a day over fifty.”
“That’s cause I am fifty you little punk, now what’s all this about you getting hitched?” the stocky man demanded, crossing his arms over his chest and threatening the seams of his shirt sleeves. Russell couldn’t help but smile. Darius always seemed to run a size too small, but he had the musculature to pull it off.
“Married planetside, one of the local women. They’re very intelligent, just a bit behind on the tech curve.”
“Hah! Not intelligent enough to avoid you, kid. Ah, it’s funny,” Darius sighed regretfully. “I always assumed that when everything was said and done you and that plucky little captain would shack up together after seeing a bit of the galaxy. Guess fate had other ideas.” When the grizzled armorer looked close and saw not just sorrow, but guilt on Russell’s face, he pressed the issue. “Ah damn, don’t tell me?”
“Yeah, best I don’t tell you,” the Jumper agreed. Darius extended his hand and the two of them shook.
“I’m glad you got off that ship alive, kid. Like I said, fate had other ideas. Shame about Jessica and the others. To think I’d hear about your damn wedding before your pops and mother? C’mon, there’s only one thing to do at a time like this.”
With a shrug, Winters followed the man who’d armed and equipped him during basic training and beyond through the door to his inner sanctum of sorts. “Looks just like back on Earth, Darius. How’d you end up here?”
“Not complicated, Rusty. The Admiral offered me a promotion and a pay raise,” Darius offered, heaving a standard small arms container onto the shelf and unlocking the clasps. “And before you accuse me of betraying Delta or Omega or whatever other nonsense you might be thinking, Beta holds all the patents and Natori knows what to do with them.”
“Hey, he came all this way to get me. I’m not complaining… except for the fact that he almost got my sister and everyone else aboard killed,” Russell groused, his words stopping Darius mid-motion as the master at arms unveiled the Jumper’s rifle and pistol.
“I’m still alive, which means I don’t want to know, kid. Now, where the hell is your sword and shield?” he wondered, taking a critical look at the rifle first.
“The locals have whetstones and the like. No problems there,” Russell reported.
“I don’t care if the locals have self-churning ice cream, soldier. You have access to an armory now. I expect you to properly care for your weapons,” Darius ordered in no uncertain tones, reminding Russell very much of his own father. He didn’t think it a coincidence. Most senior individuals in the HEL’s military branches knew one another.
“Then by all means, master. Proceed,” Russell chuckled at Darius’ new title. The weaponsmith did just that.
“Says the First Lieutenant? Congratulations, by the way. Pistol looks fine, I’ll admit. We use a newer model but it’s chambered in the same caliber. Hang onto this one,” Darius advised. Russell showed him a picture on his B-MASS. He knew he looked a bit silly walking around with just one gauntlet, but he hated the idea of downgrading to other portable technology when he was so familiar with his own.
“Given what that thing’s killed, you bet your ass I will.”
Darius carefully placed the handgun on the countertop, meaning to give it a full cleaning anyway. “Kid, what the hell is that?”
“One hell of a story.”
“Oh fine, keep your damn secrets,” the Persian scoffed, bending over to examine Russell’s rifle closely. A golden chain with the Persian lion, sword and all, hung from his neck. “What was the last time you fired this thing, Rusty? Sight is misaligned.”
“My wife was the last one to use that weapon. Had to adjust it for her.”
“The hell happened down there?” Darius wondered quietly, shaking his head and moving on to the chamber. After a brief visual inspection he left it with its partner and reached for a small wooden case on the lowest shelf next to boxes of ammunition, earplugs, and eye protection. He opened it and withdrew two glasses, each of which featured the Persian Sun and Lion, as well as the Goddess Anahita around the sides. Nestled between an additional two glasses were multiple bottles of whiskey from Japan, India, Scotland, and the United States.
“Drinking on the range?” Russell wondered sarcastically.
“Did you leave ammunition in the chambers?” Darius asked flippantly, already knowing the answer as he poured a small taste from Japan first, flicking a couple drops of water into his own from a nearby water bottle. “No, didn’t think so; cause you aren’t an idiot like Rex was his first day. Now that we’ve established the guns won’t self-animate and kill us, we’re drinking.”
“I’m not complaining but isn’t that, you know, haram or something?” Russell asked, accepting the glass with thanks. Darius took a smell of the amber liquid in his glass before furrowing his brows at the young Jumper.
“How long have you known me, Rusty?”
“Geez… I guess I’m twenty five now so call it seven years on and off?”
“And in those seven years, how many times a day have you seen me kneeling on a rug facing East?”
Russell bobbed his head back and forth to acknowledge the point, taking a smell of his own. The scent was utterly divine, smooth, powerful, and pure. “Guess none?”
“That’s because I’m Zoroastrian. One day, god or gods willing, whichever you prefer, the fatherland will return to its true roots. Until then, we must drink to something else. To Jessica and the other honored dead, may they be at peace.” Darius and Russell clinked glasses before partaking. The former downed his like it was nothing, while the Jumper savored the taste of alcohol for the first time in almost a year. He kept it on his palate a bit too long and began coughing as he swallowed. Darius’ laughed loudly, his voice carrying down the silent firing range and back.
“What’s wrong, kid? Out of practice?”
“You could say that,” Russell agreed, handing back his glass. “No alcohol on Mara. No dairy or fruit either.”
“What an awful place,” the master at arms declared immediately, rinsing their glasses quickly before chucking the wastewater over his shoulder and onto the nearest firing line. “We must remedy that immediately. Do they have grain?”
“Darius, we don’t even know if they can process alcohol yet,” Russell explained as the older man prepared a second toast, this one from the US.
“Bah, I’m sure the scientists aboard all think they’re doing more important things. Been hearing talk of aliens aboard the ship more and more, suppose that wife of yours is one of them. On that subject,” he handed Russell his glass back, this time containing a hearty helping of booze. “To your wife, her health, and your marriage.”
“To Veera then,” Russell agreed, taking his time with that one. Darius nodded and sat in his chair, leaning back while his guest leaned against the countertop of his ‘sanctuary’.
“That her name? Not bad. To Veera then. How’d you two meet?”
“Almost flattened her farm with my pod,” Witners related with a small smile, remembering the scrawny young Cauthan who’d introduced him to Mara.
“You got anywhere to be?” Darius wondered.
“Me? Nah. Veera’s up with a couple of her people in the civilian hospital, good friends of ours. One is due in a couple months so she’s getting an ultrasound. As you might imagine, the husband is the only man allowed.”
“Well damn, is that right? I’ll be. In that case, in accordance with great Persian traditions, you owe me a bit of a story, Rusty.”
“Is that really a tradition?” he asked critically.
“I shared my booze with you, damnit. Tell me how you got hitched.” Both men laughed loudly, feeling the pleasant burn of whiskey in their throats and its warmth in their stomachs. Winters took a moment to consider the past, glancing upward as he thought.
“Well, I guess it starts right about when they almost flogged her on my account.”
“You idiot.”
“Judging by the clowns on this ship, all Jumpers are idiots, Darius.”
“We’ll talk about them later, now spill.”
-----
“Stevie! Did you miss me?” Rex shouted the moment their shuttle touched down, jumping out of the open hull door and striding confidently over to the now quite established base camp. The facility consisted of a prefabricated living space for about half a dozen scientists at any given time, which sat next to various tents that covered gear and assorted supplies. The tiny compound was protected by two auto-turrets with a connection to the bridge of the Event Horizon, but nothing had disturbed the camp since the arrival of Beta division personnel. Rex parted the handful of scientists going about their work easily, making his way to the covered cage that contained Steve the aquila. The little bat-like alien had its wing properly bandaged, and it looked up as the daylight penetrated its sanctuary. It did not seem pleased. “Okay okay, didn’t mean to startle you. Just wanted to say hi. I’ll feed you tonight when you’re awake. Gotta see if any of these smart people have some bugs for you.”
While Rex went about his business and Orlova dealt with the shuttle, Corporal Mendes spoke with the lead researcher. Natori had called on ahead, conveying to both teams the suggestion from Io and Winters, specifically that the anomaly in the first hallway be examined. After a short conversation, Mendes shook hands with the researcher and notified his team that the scientists would be ‘spectating’ the expedition. After collecting Rex, he rejoined Orlova and Lipper, who had remained with the shuttle near the entrance to the Forge.
“We all set then… sir?” Lipper wondered as they pulled their helmets on and made their final comms checks. Orlova looked purposefully at Mendes, but he seemed content to chalk the pause up to lack of familiarity with the new command structure.
“Yes. Per the Admiral’s order’s we’re heading inside and looking for something akin to a large metallic skeleton. He said we’d recognize it due to radiation leaks from what is assumed to be a core of some sort.”
“Yo that’s sick let’s fucking go!” Rex shouted, grabbing his hammer off his back and practically bouncing off towards the Forge’s entrance.
“Private Rex!” Mendes bade him halt, the burly Jumper turning his skull-adorned helmet back towards them.
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“What?”
“Wait for your squad, Private,” the Brazilian replied coolly as they all caught up with him. “And take point.”
“Heh, yes sir!” Rex agreed, charging forward and promptly going down on account of the rather sizable piles of aquila droppings at the mouth of the Forge. While Mendes could hardly fault his exuberance, he was forced to scold him as he rushed forward and took a knee to cover the surprised soldier.
“Maybe watch your step, Rex. Last thing we need is your big ass triggering any traps left in here,” Mendes advised.
“Well said, sir. Nice paint job, Rex,” Lipper added.
“Oh shut up, Lipp. By the way, your axe looks stupid as hell,” Rex declared as Mendes and Lipper helped him up and he did his best to wipe some of the fresher aquila crap off his backside.
“Uh, what? You hit your head too?”
“Last time you were here you said my hammer looked ridiculous. Well your axe is just as ridiculous,” Rex insisted.
“I am surrounded by boys,” Natalya insisted, walking proudly past them and into the facility. “You know the science teams are watching everything, right?”
“That’s where the hammer comes in!” Rex assured her with a laugh, having more than shaken off his momentary stumble. And so with the first ‘pitfall’ of the Forge conquered, the four soldiers proceeded slowly into the cavernous vault that formed the Forge’s entryway, the path sloping down ever so gently before them. “Mother of God. How big is this thing?”
“Big,” Mendes replied simply, pulling up the seismic imaging model of the installation on his armor’s B-MASS so they could all have a look. A small red dot marked their position at the entrance.”
“We have an estimate for the location of this anomaly?” Lipper asked. Mendes shook his head.
“Nothing definite, but according to information provided by the Lieutenant it should be the first thing we come across.”
“I hope that bastard took a shit dip too,” Rex muttered as they carried on.
“Stow it, Rex,” Mendes ordered. “You can bitch about getting your ass kicked when we aren’t in the middle of an alien installation.”
The Lance Corporal’s words seemed to finally get the point across that they were truly within the belly of the beast, the unknown. No longer was it an unremarkable grassy knoll where some aquila nested. Now it was an expansive chamber of darkness that was deep enough to swallow the light from their armor. Mendes radioed the base station. “Surface team, I’m going to request you keep this channel clear until further notice. We will radio in the event we need an expert opinion. Lance Corporal Mendes out.”
“Mmm, good,” Natalya agreed on the private channel shared between their suits. “Now let us move.”
The four Jumpers moved slowly and deliberately through the structure, promptly sheathing their melee weapons in favor of their rifles. The extra lights were welcome as the glow of Seil grew fainter and fainter behind them as they walked. Per the descriptions left by Winters they did notice a faint red glow far in the distance along their direction of travel, but that was the only anomaly. “Damn, this place is something else,” Lipper muttered, his senses torn between the boredom of black and gray metal on the one hand and the gnawing threat of the unknown on the other.
“Corporal, I think we have contact,” Rex suddenly called after about ten minutes of travel. All four Jumpers pointed their weapons forward, the light illuminating a tangled mess of metal that stood in their way.
“Detecting higher than expected levels of background alpha radiation,” Natalya added, consulting her B-MASS as they drew closer to the construct. “This must be what the First Lieutenant mentioned. Looks like a poor attempt at impersonating M. C. Escher.”
“Corporal Mendes to surface team, you getting this?” Mendes demanded, sighing as only dead air greeted him. “Damnit. We’re on our own. Start recording, everyone.”
“Yes sir,” Lipper replied, taking a step forward and kneeling next to the object. “I suppose we should have expected that much. We’re going to have our work cut out for us getting cables in here.”
“That’s what they pay us for. I seem to recall you and Rex getting into a bit of trouble on account of your cabin fever,” Mendes replied, prompting Lipper to glance over his shoulder.
“If we could not speak about that again, Lance Corporal, I’d appreciate it.”
“Noted, Private. That the core?”
“Sure as hell looks like it,” Lipper said, reaching deep into the mess of pointed metal and running his hand along the cylindrical object. “Now I’m no Alice Winters, but I’ll bet my useless sergeant’s bars that this is alien script.” True to Lipper’s word, when they all gathered around they could see scratched and faded symbols. “Feeling it yet, Rex?”
“Fuck you, Tom. Don’t tell me you aren’t freaking out too,” Rex shot back, his voice tense.
“Seems the natural reaction,” Lipper agreed as they fanned out and did their best to record the object from every angle using what light was available to them and their helmets’ video recording capabilities. “So the Lieutenant described this thing as a skeleton, and I guess I can see that but where the hell is the head. This looks like a twisted ribcage. A big fucking ribcage, mind you, but still just a ribcage.”
“Perhaps those have something to do with it?” Natalya suggested, having located the various discolorations and markings on the walls and floor that seemed to indicate some sort of conflict or struggle.
“Hard to say,” Mendes opined, staring further into the facility. Part of him wanted desperately to proceed further, to see what Lieutenant Winters had seen months before, to see if anything could be gleaned from further within the strange installation. Orders were orders, however, and he had no intention of improvising on his first mission as commanding officer. “But no matter what else is in here, I think this is where we should start. Let’s get this thing scanned and get as many visuals as we can for the teams back up top. Then we’ll figure out how or if we should move it.”
“Can I ask a question?” Rex wondered, not waiting for permission. “What sort of idiot stuffs a nuclear reactor into their ribcage?” In spite of the situation, the team found themselves chuckling quietly. Lipper answered.
“Assuming we aren’t all incredibly wrong, which we damn well could be, something a hell of a lot larger than you, Rex.”
-----
When Mendes’ team returned to the surface after about two hours below ground, they found the majority of the science team waiting nervously for them at the mouth of the Forge. The lead of the expedition was on the line with Admiral Kaczynsky when Mendes’ suit regained connection to the Event Horizon’s network.
“Ah, it seems we worry too much!” he declared. “Lance Corporal Mendes, your report?”
“Yes sir. No casualties or difficulties minus Rex slipping in a pile of alien bat shit, sir.” Unseen by Mendes, Natori found himself attempting to keep a straight face on his bridge and not chuckle like a teenager.
“Given how quickly we lost contact with your team after you entered the facility, it is no small relief to hear that, Rodrigo. Did you find the anomaly mentioned in the mission report?”
“Yes sir, it was exactly as the Lieutenant described, including the cracked, radioactive core. We took video and conducted scans using the B-MASS which we will provide to the ground teams shortly.”
“Thank you. I look forward to your full report. But let us speak frankly for a moment, Lance Corporal. What are your thoughts on the installation?” Natori wondered, pressing a couple fingers against his temple as he tried to place himself on the surface. The lack of real time footage had not only been worrying, it had been incredibly disappointing.
“Sorry Admiral, but I’m not sure how much I can give you that you don’t already know,” Mendes apologized. “Whoever built it is certainly no longer around. That or they’re extremely well hidden. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say it’s beyond the technological capability of the locals. We didn’t analyze the alloys of the walls or the skeletal object so I can’t say much on those accounts. It’s almost certainly alien in its construction, and there is something towards the end of the entry corridor that glows red, again as Lieutenant Winters described, sir. I don’t have anything else at this time.”
“Next steps, Lance Corporal?”
Mendes waved the rest of his squad on, indicating that they should proceed back to the camp and begin the relevant data transfers while he continued to speak with Natori. “Well, that depends on how nice you want to be to the current residents, sir,” the Jumper supplied, looking up so that Natori could see the various aquila nests above the entrance.
“We will make all reasonable accommodations.”
“Yes sir. In that case I think the first thing we need to do is get cable inside here, make sure we can communicate with the surface teams and possibly move in some light sources deeper in, far past the little bat-like organisms. I’ll leave what to do with the skeletal formation to the science teams, sir. I can see arguments both for leaving it in place and moving it out of the installation for analysis aboard the ship. I guess if we do that we should check for EMP shielding and other electronics, fry them all if we find them.” Natori hummed approvingly in his earpiece.
“Yes, I suppose a remote attack is a possibility even if the age of the installation is confirmed. Very well, Corporal Mendes. You and your team will have the lead on this operation as far as protection of the science teams is concerned.”
Mendes made to salute before he remembered that Natori would be unable to see the gesture, his chest swelling with pride. “Yes sir, we’d be honored. But what about Lieutenant Winters?”
“Believe it or not, Rodrigo, I believe he’s more than happy to let you and your team have this one. From the sound of it, village life is more suited to him. And believe me when I tell you that I am very sensitive to what occurred between you all and how to proceed moving forward. In spite of the obvious and noble human tendency to divide itself into groups and prove one superior to the other, we are all on the same side when it comes to discovering the truth of this planet and our way home.”
“That sounds a lot more noble than the first bit, sir,” Mendes replied, earning a chuckle from Natori.
“Quite so, Corporal, but that doesn’t not mean I don’t wish to see you and your team succeed both for yourselves and for Beta Division as a whole. For now, please go ahead and rendezvous with the science teams and assist them however you can. I’m sure they will have questions for you. In the meantime, I will make the necessary arrangements for the equipment we will surely need to examine this installation in detail.”
“Yes sir, signing off,” Mendes affirmed before cutting the link and proceeding the short distance to rejoin his squad. Civilian researchers were already poring over the data and recordings that the team had brought back. Natalya was engaged in conversation with an older gentleman regarding the radioactivity signatures from the casing, her helmet off and her long, blonde hair tied up in a neat bun. Lipper and Rex were uploading their scans of the skeleton to the available computers and terminals in the compound, relating what they’d seen and suggesting various conclusions. “Everything good?”
“Took us seven months and change and a bit of a fuck up,” Lipper began.
“A bit?” Rex cut in, looking at his friend accusingly.
“Your nose looks even better than it used to and I can eat again. Sergeant will return with time,” Lipper insisted, looking Mendes dead in the eye. “But yeah, Corporal, it feels like we’re finally getting to do something here.”
-----
“I’m not going to remember all this, but it’s very impressive,” Xan admitted as he, Alice and Anita strolled through one of the industrial growing bays on the Event Horizon. Unlike bay number seven, which was essentially full of pet projects, bay number one was designed to produce as much nutritious biomass per cubic foot of space as possible. Many plants needed no soil at all, growing in clear troughs of water stacked to the ceiling and tended to by mechanical arms and extensions.
“Thank you, I helped design the cultivators,” Anita said quietly, guiding the crippled Cauthan around. “And I wouldn’t worry too much about remembering it. At this point I don’t have to think much about growing either except for maintenance. What we would need from you is instructions on how to care for your various crops. How often you water them, if they need support to grow, direct or indirect sunlight, things of that nature.”
“Yeah, that much I can do,” Xan agreed. “I can ask my parents and some of the other farmers I know. You want to come, Alice?”
“Assuming I’m not tied up with Alyra, I’d be happy to come along and record things.”
“Yeah, I guess Thantis and I have been keeping you busy for a while now. She’s been itching to talk with you about whatever it is she cares about. You see her staring at her reflection in the water trough the other day, experimenting with those glasses? Crazy.”
“Xan, just because you don’t give a darn about how you look doesn’t mean us girls don’t. What’s wrong with wanting to look presentable?”
Xan huffed, not able to come up with a decent reply. A light breeze drifted through the room, strengthening over a few seconds before dissipating. “Alright you have to explain that though. How did you harness the winds all the way out here. Felen isn’t supposed to have any power in Kel’s domain. And where is your water coming from? I’ve never seen it rain in here.”
“Smart cookie, isn’t he?” Alice asked Anita, who seemed a mite confused.
“What are Felen and Kel?” the engineer wondered. Alice did her best to explain the two Cauthan gods in five minutes or less. It was enough for Anita to understand Xan’s question.
“Well, we have mechanical fans that blow air through the ship and these growing areas. Plants that grow without any wind develop weakly in many cases. They need to be stressed in a positive way,” Anita explained.
“Is that right? What’s a ‘mechanical fan’?” Xan replied, butchering the pronunciation of the word mechanical. Anita looked around, but none of her green, floral companions were forthcoming with a decent simplification of electricity or motors.
“I think that would be a bit hard to explain,” she admitted. “Same with the water situation. We have a set amount on board which we reuse and recycle.”
“What she means to say is that we use our waste, convert it to clean water, and use that for the plants,” Alice summarized.
“What? That’s silly. Just take the poop and throw it down, works great. Maybe even mix some in with your water,” Xan suggested, managing to elicit a flush even through Anita’s dark brown skin.
“Xan, you dork,” Alice chastised him as she tried not to giggle too hard. “That’s a great way to get the whole ship infected.”
“Don’t know what that means, but I defer to your crazy human magics,” Xan replied flippantly. “I stopped trying to understand the specifics a while ago, made my head hurt. But we can grow dato and kina up here, right?”
“I believe so,” Anita affirmed. “Alice, didn’t you say you got some soil samples?”
“Yeah, days ago. You didn’t get them?”
“No, I think they’re still with the microbiologists. Growing alien vegetables wasn’t really high priority until forty eight hours ago or so.”
“Well if you need some just come down to the village,” Alice suggested. “They’re real friendly and the food is to die for!”
“Yeah, you should totally come down with us today,” Xan agreed, enthused at the idea of being the one doing the explaining and guiding. “I can take you around and you can ask your questions and grab as much dirt as you want. Not like we’re hoarding it or anything.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Natori’s voice agreed, causing them all to jump. Anita threw her hand over her chest in fright while Alice shook her fist at the ceiling.
“Darn it, Admiral! Don’t you have, you know, a ship to run or something?!”
“My dear Alice, thanks to the efforts of Io, my esteemed bridge crew, and dedicated engineers like Ms. Prakash, I find myself quite bored on a regular basis. I believe this is a preferable state of affairs to your brother or our Jumpers shooting at something, however. Ms. Prakash, I will be happy to arrange for you to head to the surface for a period of time. In return, I believe we could take our intrepid Cauthan here on a little voyage.”
“Look, I don’t want to be rude but I think I know enough about your leader to know he’s not like Antoth. Little voyage sounds bad,” Xan stated. Alice nodded and rested a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m with Xan, Admiral. Details,” Alice demanded.
“Of course! It’s been just about seven months since we left Earth. While I am immensely pleased with the performance of our various waste and water treatment facilities, the fact of the matter is that my morning coffee is beginning to taste like an industrial filter. Given that we have found your brother, made friends with the locals, and established that we will be in the system for a period of time, I believe it would be prudent to top off our reserves of materials and replenish our water stores,” Natori explained, using the display on his captain’s chair to pan through several groups of asteroids flagged by his bridge crew.
“Natori!” Alice had a hand on her hip. “Are you seriously suggesting taking Xan on an asteroid mining mission?”
“Veera and any other Cauthan are welcome to come along as well! They have invited us to partake in their harvest festival, I think it’s only fair we return the favor so long as they keep their claws off the controls.”
“Harvesting asteroids is not a holiday!” Alice insisted.
“No, it involves far too many high powered lasers for that!” Natori agreed, eliciting a light giggle from Anita.
“Why do I bother with him?” Alice demanded of herself. “Fine, Natori. When we head back down today we’ll ask about the mission. I honestly can’t see Antoth agreeing to it even for Xan, but we’ll give it a shot and see if there’s interest. Thanks for giving me an incredibly difficult concept to explain, by the way. What about the teams at the other ground site?”
“Oh, I’ll be sure they have plenty of supplies. We’ll only be gone a day or two and I want to be sure we are back in orbit to commemorate the anniversary of the loss of the Lancer. Do let me know what Antoth says, would you?”
Alice pinched the bridge of her nose, tilting her head back as though she had a nosebleed. While the idea of taking Xan along on a space mining mission was undoubtedly an exciting prospect, especially given the fact that she would not typically be allowed on one either, explaining the concept to Antoth and Ratha was decidedly not. She made a mental note to include Thantis in any such discussion; he was the one Cauthan most likely to end up in her corner. “Yes sir, Natori. Anything else?”
“No no, carry on!” the Admiral encouraged as though he hadn’t been eavesdropping on them. “Miss Prakash, your plants will survive a few hours without you, I’m sure.”
“O-Oh. I mean… thank you, Admiral.”
“Be nice to her,” Alice whispered extremely quietly, relying on Xan’s perky ears to do the rest of the work, even if one of them was rough around the edges. To her relief, he was not a complete blockhead and nodded that he understood.
“Sorry, Alice. If I’m going to head down I should probably change and get a few things,” Anita explained, excusing herself. “It was nice to meet you, Xan. Selah.”
“Selah,” Xan replied as Anita departed. Alice was more than fine finding her way back on her own.
“So, want to keep exploring here?” she asked Xan.
“Nah. I’m sure I’ll be back up when our own crops are growing here,” the Cauthan guessed, stiffening his back and exhaling with something of a grunt.
“How’s the leg? You’ve been walking around a while,” Alice asked sympathetically.
“That obvious?”
“You don’t need to hide it around someone like Anita, you know?”
“I was just practicing,” Xan told her, looking intently at a nearby head of lettuce.
“Ok,” Alice smiled kindly. “Do you want to head back to your room or one of the hangars? I think Asha and the rest will probably be a little while.”
“Floating?” Xan suggested.
“The hangars it is! Let’s see where the nearest one is,” Alice replied pleasantly, calling up a map of the ship and locating an inactive shuttle bay nearby. “This way, my fluffy, crippled friend! Tally ho!”
Xan pulled his scarred face into a grin as he plodded after her with his cane. “You and your brother have to be the worst humans ever to learn your culture from.”
Xan’s newfound ability to take his disability somewhat in stride was encouraging to Alice, recalling to her mind her brother’s desire that she help instead of study. She already had a new idea or three for her doctoral thesis. “Excuse me, we’re obviously the best.”
“Heh, of course. My mistake.”