Divergence

“I think we should have music,” said Edward. “Maurice, can you choose something?”

Maurice looked at them, wondering what to play. Then he had a sudden flash of blinding clarity. He wasn’t choosing something for Edward, or Saskia, or Miss Rose, or even Judy. There was no one here that he was trying to impress.

“Maurice?” said Edward.

Maurice placed his console on the table next to his plate and thoughtfully stroked it to life. What would he himself like to hear?

The voice of a choir filled the cold blue space. I Love My Love, sang a capella. An ice cavern, unaccompanied voices, and smoked bacon. And beyond that the cold stars slipping past, while behind them drifted the broken crosses of systems repair robots. Miss Rose was eating her bacon and eggs, and sipping tea that Saskia poured her from a pot. Judy was neatly cutting yellow squares of scrambled egg with her fork and daintily putting them in her mouth. Edward was gulping down apple juice. Look at us, thought Maurice. Who planned all this? I’ve been set adrift amongst these people for a reason. This is the sort of thing that Social Care does, yet it doesn’t feel like Social Care.

There was a flicker on his console.

“Another contact,” he said. “The Uninvited. ”

Saskia laughed. “Someone has a sense of humor.”

They all looked to Edward. He recoiled under their gaze, hunched around his breakfast.

“What?”

“Speak to them,” said Saskia. “You’re the captain now.”

“What do I say?”

“Whatever feels right,” said Judy.

Edward carefully laid down his knife and fork.

“Hello?” he began.

“Hello, Eva Rye . This is the Uninvited . Do you wish to engage in Fair Exchange?”

Edward held out his hands, palms up, mutely asking the others what to do. They smiled back kindly.

“Whatever you want, Edward,” Saskia said gently.

“Er…Yes?” said Edward.

“Excellent. My name is Miriam. I notice that our two ships are both running on the same time. Would you like to join us for breakfast?”

“Yes, that would be nice.”

There was a shimmering, and then the empty spaces around the table were occupied by the virtual crew of the Uninvited. There were seven of them, six humans and one robot. They were all handicapped in some way, missing limbs or suffering from palsy or simply gazing into space with a vacant look. Even the robot looked badly damaged: three long scars ran down the right-hand side of its torso. The derm there was disrupted; it had puckered and deformed into a bubbling black mass that stood out in marked contrast to the rest of its smooth grey body.

“Nice ship,” said a dark-haired woman, gazing around the frosty interior of the Bailero. “Hi, I’m Miriam.” She only had one arm. She raised her single hand in greeting. The crew of the Eva Rye waited politely for Edward to speak. After a nudge from Judy, he got the idea.

“Oh, I’m Edward. What’s that you’re eating?” He pointed to the yellow flakes on the plate in front of Miriam.

“Smoked haddock,” she replied, giving him an appraising look. She knows, thought Maurice. She’s met people like him before . Miriam now spoke more slowly. “It’s nice to meet you, Edward. Do you realize that you are flying towards a very dangerous place?”

“Yes,” said Edward. “But we made a promise.”