He heard a small gaspand looked down to see Mrs. Naidu standing in the atrium, next to thegarden. He edged behind Trisha, acutely conscious of why she’d madethat sound of surprise.
Theheavy metal railing looked very nice but it didn’t hide much.
“So sorry,” Mrs.Naidu stammered. “Your son said to come in, so…” she lookeddown at the garden. “You have a lovely garden,” she said,complimenting the bare patch of dirt.
Terry came downthe stairs, hair still wet. “Do we have any of those leftovers fromthe celebration?” he asked before noticing that there was avisitor.
“Hello, Mrs. Naidu,”he smiled down at her. “You have good timing. We just got back.”
I’ve heard of better, Frankthought.
“Yes, hello, Terry,”she said sounding relieved. “It’s my husband, you see…” Shehesitated for a moment.
“His back?” Terryasked. “He was walking a little strange last night, when we wereheading home.”
She nodded, twisting akerchief fretfully. “We have access to one of the watering unitstomorrow but I don’t know if he’ll be back on his feet by thenand…”
“And those enzymeswill stop working on the soil composition if the conditions are toodry,” Terry finished for her.
“Even for anautomated system, there’s still a fair bit of heavy lifting onthose water-bowsers and you and Kiara are both too delicate for thatkind of work.”
Frank smiled. Kiaracould probably handle the lifting but it would be far more exhaustingfor her than for Terry. The young man’s comment hadn’t goneunnoticed either. Mrs. Naidu allowed a smile.
“I’ll bethere at first light?”Terry suggested.
“Thank you somuch,” Mrs. Naidu said warmly, now wreathed in smiles. “And Kiarawill make sure you don’t go hungry!”
“I’m sure you’reall hungry now after a long day up in the hills, so I’ll leave youin peace.” She turned and headed for the entry-gate that sat in atunnel beneath Vikram’s second-floor bedroom.
“That was niceof you, Terry!” Trisha smiled. “And, yes, there’s still lots ofleftovers downstairs. You go ahead.” She stepped to the right,giving Frank the room to get past her without embarrassing himself infront of his friend.
“You go ahead,” shetold him again. “We’ll be a while getting cleaned up.”
Frankslid their bedroom door open and stepped inside, breathing a sigh ofrelief. Trisha followed, her footsteps sounding harsher on the woodflooring.
“Is it strangethat I’m liking this?” sheasked him. “I can’t help but feel… powerful in this suit.”
“I noticed thesame thing,” Frank croaked, “when we were sitting in the runaboutand you deactivated myarmor…”
She pressed a finger tohis lips. “We’d better take a shower now,” she said, “whilewe’re both still willing to take the time.”
Time Alone
The Mouse, In Transit
Gabriella slippedbehind a bulkhead and activated a snippet of ready-code, a skillshe’d learned from Hack. She’d taken to wearing her suit like thecrew, on but with the helmet and gloves stowed.
The coding used herewas easy enough to pick up. She’d done a full module of programmingin her senior year at high-school and the programming languages onEarth were filled with legacy nonsense. The stuff Hack was showingher was far cleaner.
She’d even used it toreplace the operating system on the phone-implant she’d gotten as agrad present.
She was using abase-snippet that held a menu of her favorite applications. She couldquickly launch a holo-vid, place a call or, in this case, open ahatch.
It snapped openfaster than the eye could follow, leaving a three-foot-square hole inthe floor with chamfered angles at each corner. Technically,it’s octagonal, I suppose. Shetook a quick look over her shoulder but none of the engineering staffhad noticed the sound in the clamor of the engineroom.
She climbed a ladderdown two levels to find herself at the intersection of three largetunnels. It was a Y intersection, with one six-meter-wide tunnelsplitting off into two as it ran aft. She was standing on a smalltriangle of safe space cordoned off from the tunnels by railings ontwo sides, the third being the four-meter-wide section of wall she’djust climbed down.
She used herready-code to call up a comfortable seat and pulled out a thermos-mugof tea and her e-reader from a small satchel attached to the side ofher armored hip. After the last few days, she needed a little time torelax. No lovesick crewmen asking for pointers, no maternalsuspicions, no massive spaceship from an alien republic, just somegreen tea and a bit ofescapist historical fiction.
She wrinkled hernose. That scent… moldy,pungently salty… She pressed her lips together, looking accusinglyat the Universe in general. “A strange place to run into you, isn’tit, Father?” she asked without turning around.
“But anexcellent place if one wishes some time alone, yes?”Sulakasked, emergingfrom the darkness behind her.“I tend to find solitude isoften improved by sharing it with a select few.”
Shelooked up at him as he strolled into view, not bothering to keep theskepticism from her face. He’s an empath and, anyway,he’s Quailu; he probably doesn’t care about body language.
She activated a chairfor him as well. He could have just sat and the ship would haveprevented his august bottom from falling to the decking but it seemedmore polite. And her own design was far more comfortable.
Sulak settled onto theseat with a chuckle.
“Are you reading me,Father?” she asked without rancor. In a way, being around Sulak wasalmost like continuous confession.
“A little,” theoracle admitted. “Do you mind?”
“Not really,” shepaused to think about it. “I think your choices regarding…hygiene… actually help. I don’t mind you being able to read mebecause I doubt you’d look down your nose at me.”
Sulak made a deeprumbling sound, like a truck-load of gravel on a dirt road.
“Father!” Shepeered at him in the gloom. “Did I just make you laugh?”
“Maybe alittle. I see you have an eye for the forgotten spaces of our ship.”
“They tend to bewhere solitude lurks,” she said. “Fortunate, don’t you think,that I place such value on both?”
“The Universe tendsto unfold as it will,” Sulak opined vaguely. “Still, it seems tohave a definite sense of order. Why, I once…” He stopped talkingwhen the breeze in the tunnel began stiffening.
Gabriella closedher helmet and put a hand over her mug asthe breeze becamea howling wind, blowing the odd bit of debris
