a computer, where a line of five or six others stood waiting. Two male quarians stood behind her.
The man at the front of the line said something to the woman, who punched some information into the computer. He handed her an empty pack, which she passed to one of the men behind her. He disappeared into the room, then emerged again a few seconds later and handed the pack, now filled, back to the man in line.
'What's going on over there?' she asked.
'Essential items, such as food or medicine, are stored separately,' Seeto explained. 'We need to keep track of our reserves to make sure we always have enough for everyone in the colony.'
'What happens when the reserves run low?' Hen-del asked.
'If we manage them carefully, they never will,' Seeto replied. 'Weekly shipments arrive from the Liveships to provide for our basic needs. And specific or luxury items are acquired by the scout ships we send out to explore the worlds of the systems we pass through, or through trading with other vessels in the Fleet.'
They boarded the elevator and began to ascend, leaving the trading deck behind them. When they reached the next level the elevator door opened, and Kahlee's jaw dropped at the sight before her.
They were on what would have been the crew deck of an Alliance cruiser. But instead of the expected mess hall, sleeper pods, medical bay, or rec room, she got her first good look at how the vast majority of quarians lived.
Most of the interior walls of the deck had been torn out to maximize the use of space. Replacing them was a massive grid of cubicles, arranged in groups of six: three running fore and aft along the ship's deck by two running port to starboard. Each individual cubicle was maybe a dozen feet on a side, with three walls fashioned from steel plates that ran three quarters of the way up to the ceiling. The fourth side, the one facing out toward the aisles that crisscrossed fore to aft and port to starboard between each group of cubicles, was open, though most had heavy sheets of bright, multicolored cloth hanging down from the ceiling like curtains to cover the opening. The noise that had been absent from the markets seemed to have migrated here, a general din of sound and voices that rose up from each cubicle.
'This is the deck where I live,' Seeto told them proudly as Isli led them down one of the aisles running through the center of the cubicle grid. As on the trading deck, the lanes running in both directions were crowded with people. These individuals moved with more purpose than the idly browsing shoppers, though they were still unfailingly courteous in making way for others.
As they passed cubicle after cubicle, Kahlee wondered if the colors and intricate designs sewn onto the cloth curtains that served as the doors had any significance, such as identifying individuals from a specific clan or family. She tried to look for signs of common or repeating patterns in the artwork that might hint at meaning, but if it was there it eluded her.
Many of the cloth curtains were only partially drawn, and Kahlee couldn't resist the urge to glance from side to side at each cubicle as they passed, catching occasional glimpses of ordinary quarians living their everyday lives. Some were cooking on small electric stoves, others were tidying up their cubicles. Others were playing cards or other games, or watching personal vid screens. Some were gathered in small groups, sitting on the floor while they visited a friend's or relative's space. A few were even sleeping. All of them were wearing their enviro- suits.
'Are they wearing their suits because of us?' Hen-del wondered.
Seeto shook his head. 'We rarely take off our enviro-suits, except in the most private settings or intimate encounters.'
'We work hard to maintain our ships,' Isli added from up ahead, 'but the chance of a hull breach or engine leak, remote though it may be, is something we must be constantly and acutely aware of.'
On the surface her explanation made sense, but Kahlee suspected there was more to it. Hull breaches and engine leaks would indeed be extremely rare, even in older, run-down vessels. And simple air-quality monitors, combined with element zero detectors, could alert people on board to don their suits in the event of an emergency long before any serious harm was done to them.
It was quite likely wearing the enviro-suits had become a deeply ingrained tradition, a custom born from the inescapable lack of privacy on the overpop-ulated ships. The masks and layers of material could very well be a physical, emotional, and psychological buffer in a society where solitude was virtually impossible to find.
'How do you go to the bathroom?' Gillian asked, much to Kahlee's surprise. She had expected the girl to withdraw into herself in an effort to escape the crowds and overabundance of noise in the unfamiliar surroundings.
'We have bathrooms and showers in the lower decks,' Seeto explained, in answer to Gillian's query. 'The room is sealed and sterile. It is one of the few places we feel comfortable removing our enviro-suits.'
'What about when you're not on a quarian ship?' Gillian wanted to know.
'Our suits are equipped to store several days worth of waste in sealed compartments between the inner and outer layer. The suit can then be flushed, discharging the waste into any common sanitation facility — like the toilet on your shuttle — without exposing the wearer to outside contaminants.'
Seeto suddenly darted up ahead and pulled back the curtain on one of the cubicles. 'This is my living quarter,' he said excitedly, ushering them over.
Peering inside Kahlee saw a cluttered but tidy little room. A sleeping mat was rolled up in one corner. A small cooking stove, a personal vid screen, and a computer rested against one of the side walls. Several swatches of bright orange cloth hung on the walls, the color matching the curtain that was used to block the open entrance.
'You live here alone?' Kahlee asked, and Seeto laughed again at the foolishness of humans.
'I share this space with my mother and father. My sister lived here for many years, too, until she left on her Pilgrimage. Now she is with the crew of the
'Where are your parents now?' Gillian asked, and Kahlee thought she heard a hint of longing in her voice.
'My father works on the upper decks as a navigator. My mother is usually part of the civilian Council that advises Captain Mai, but this week she is volunteering on the Liveships. She will be back in two more days.'
'What about all the orange cloth hanging from the walls,' Kahlee asked, changing the topic away from missing parents. 'Does it mean anything?'
'It means my mother likes the color orange,' Seeto chuckled, letting the curtain fall back into place as they continued on their way.
They made their way through the remaining cubicles until they reached another elevator.
'I will escort the humans alone from here,' Isli informed Seeto and Ugho. 'You two go report back for normal work detail.'
'I'm afraid this is where we part company,' Seeto said with a courteous nod. 'I hope we shall see each other again soon.'
Ugho nodded, too, but didn't bother to speak.
The elevator opened and they followed Isli aboard. The doors closed and it whisked them up to the bridge. As they stepped off, Kahlee was surprised to see several more cubicles built along one side of the hall running from the elevator. Apparently space was so valuable that even here, only a few dozen feet from the bridge itself, every available inch was used.
'Those are the captain's quarters,' Isli pointed out as they walked past one of the cubicles toward the bridge, filling the role of tour guide now that Seeto was no longer with them. The blue and green curtain was completely drawn, blocking any view inside. But based on the width of the corridor and the two steel plates that formed the side walls, Kahlee estimated the captain's room was the same size as every other.
When they arrived on the actual bridge Kahlee noted with some surprise that this was the one place the ship didn't seem unusually crowded. There were still a lot of bodies crammed into a small area — a helmsman, two navigators, a comm operator, and various other crew — but the same could be said of any Alliance vessel. The captain was seated in a chair in the center of the bridge and Lemm, his injured leg still encased in the protective boot, stood just behind him. The captain rose and approached as they entered, while Lemm clumped along behind him.
'Captain Ysin'Mal vas Idenna,' Lemm said, taking the introductions, 'allow me to present Kahlee Sanders,
