Regeneration (Czerneda) (34 page)

Read Regeneration (Czerneda) Online

Authors: Julie E. Czerneda

BOOK: Regeneration (Czerneda)
9.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“I wouldn’t know, sir,” Doug replied politely.
Mudge turned to her. “Norcoast?”
Mac indicated the tube door. “We’ll find out faster if we go, Oversight.”
What she found out first was why the tubes were usually reserved for crew. Once they entered, a process requiring both a code and recognition of one of their escorts, Mac climbed into what felt like a stomach. The space had no straight lines, or rigid walls. Instead, her feet sank ankle-deep and her hands, as Mac groped for support, disappeared within whatever pale substance they’d used. There was something solid a few centimeters in, but it took an effort to reach and even more to free her hands.
She sniffed.
Clover.
“Nice touch.”
The others climbed in with her, the crew adeptly bouncing their way to the far side where they leaned their backs against the wall. Mac copied their position, seeing her companions do the same. “What about our bags?” she asked, having dropped hers to the floor in her first startled step.
“Leave it there, Mac.”
The door didn’t so much close as the walls flowed together where it had been.
“How does—” Sam began to ask, eyes bright with curiosity, when the flexible wall beside him suddenly developed a pronounced curve, as if it were being sucked away.
The sensation of movement came at the same instant. Mac felt herself being pressed deeper into the yielding surface. The others were, too, as was her bag. Doug grinned. “It’s called a bolus.”
As in lump of food being digested?
Mac laughed. “Perfect.”
“Thought you’d appreciate it,” he said. “They bud from each entrance to the tube system.” Just then, the bolus turned sideways and dropped, but Mac felt only an instant of vertigo. Her body stayed firmly in place, as though the wall was now holding onto her.
Which it was,
she realized, after attempting to pry free her hands. Doug kept lecturing, presumably to keep the novice passengers distracted. “The tubes themselves are part of the recycling system within the ship. A constant stream of water, heat, wastes, you name it, travels through. Any freed bolus is whisked along with the rest until snatched from the flow at the next transit stop.”
Mac grinned back. “Gotta love biology.”
Doug chuckled. “The engineers will bend your ear about hydraulics and closed systems, but we know the truth.”
“A flush a day,” piped up Kaili.
“The bolus itself applies interior suction when in motion. The ride can get a little bumpy, but once you’re used to it? Nice break from walking corridors, believe me.”
“Fast and secure even if gravity fails,” Mudge commented. “And practical, given the type of ship. A web strung with beads, Norcoast. Remarkably flexible design. How many pods is the
Joy
carrying now?”
The two spoke in unison. “You’ll have to ask the exec, sir.” “Really can’t go into details, sir.”
“You’ll have four days. You can ask all the questions you want, Oversight,” Mac said without thinking, then winced inwardly.
Mudge’s face glowed with that familiar “gotcha” expression. “I wasn’t aware you were privy to information about the capabilities of a Ministry dreadnought, Norcoast.”
Before Mac had to cover her tracks, Doug spoke up. “Oh, Mac knows the
Joy.
We brought her home.”
She’d counted every hour from the gate to orbit.
“Home from where, Mac?” Sam asked, eyes wide.
Mudge
harrumphed
. “This isn’t the time for trading memoirs, Dr. Schrant. You’ll meet your colleagues on the Origins Team shortly. I trust you were able to familiarize yourself with their work beforehand?”
Grateful for the distraction, if not for the questions Mudge was no doubt stockpiling to fire at her when they were next alone, Mac listened to Sam’s animated listing of Kirby and To’o’s work, all of which sounded more than familiar to him.
Enthusiasm was a refreshing switch from desperation,
she thought.
The bolus snapped to a full stop between one breath and the next, shuddering along its every surface. The shudders conveniently slid passengers and bags to what was now the floor. An arch formed a new door, the original having melded into the rest of the spongy wall surface sometime after they’d “budded” and joined the waste stream. She smiled to herself at the image.
“Status check?” Doug asked Kaili, who went to the arch and flipped open what was now a control panel.
“Other side’s secure,” she said after a second. “Clear and opening, now.” With that, the door slid aside on an expanse of warm yellow.
Doug, moving nimbly, picked up her bag then offered his hand. Mac smiled and shook her head. She stepped out, pulling one foot at a time free of the tender grip the bolus still had on her feet, and managed not to stagger. “I can see it takes practice,” she told him.
That wide, ready smile.
She’d seen it every time he’d arrived to check her new arm.
It wasn’t Doug’s fault seeing him brought back such vivid memories. Mac made herself smile back. “Which way now?” she asked, glancing around.
“Idiots!!!” The bellow echoed from wall to ceiling. “I told you she would be coming!”
“Let me guess,” Mudge said dryly.
The Origins Team was very glad to see them. The climatologists had swept away Sam Schrant, having arranged to share quarters so they could begin working on his model systems. They’d hurried off in a rosy glow of incomprehensible math. Mudge was accosted by all the Sthlynii at once, who over-voweled at him in anguish about the changes to the schedule they’d originally anguished about at the consulate. Not to mention the risk of lost equipment and did he notice they now had to change their quarter assignments? The
Annapolis Joy
was much larger than the transport the Sinzi-ra had promised, but their portion of it was smaller. It was all too much to bear.
If Mudge hadn’t looked so thoroughly officious, Mac might have felt sorry for him.
The Origins Team had been put in an area of the ship unfamiliar to Mac.
Not hard, considering she’d spent most of her time in the medlab.
Meant for passengers, beyond doubt, though there was no evidence of who the
Joy
might normally carry.
Maybe they used her for conferences,
Mac decided, remembering that the ship hadn’t seen combat until the attack on the Ro.
Their section was separated from the rest of the ship by a pair of heavy bulkheads that could be air locks at need. Once past this point, the long, gently curving corridor was lined with a series of identical doors, each leading into compact and efficient living quarters with their own biological accommodations. The walls between were removable, allowing some quarters to be larger than others. Mac counted fourteen doors on the left-hand side of the corridor, seven on the right, but was advised to knock first. The Sthlynii remained unsettled about their quarters and were turning up anywhere.
To the right, after the first two doors, the corridor bulged outward to provide a common space, itself split into dining and recreation areas with mem-wood tables. Someone well-versed in transporting scientists had further divided the recreation areas with sound and light screens, creating four workrooms, already in use. Past that point were the remaining five living quarters. The corridor ended in a closed bulkhead.
Feeling oriented, if not truly here yet, Mac munched on a sandwich, contents unknown. She’d joined Lyle Kanaci in the dining area, at a corner table. He wasn’t happy about the change either.
“I tell you, Mac, I’ve been afraid to ask why we rated an upgrade.” Always pale, he leaned so close Mac could see the delicate vessels pulsing beneath his skin. He pitched his voice to her ears only. “Can’t be good news.”
“It’s not bad,” she assured him, swallowing. “They’ve found ships from the Dhryn colonies.”
He sat back, lips pursed in a silent whistle. “Haven?”
Her people weren’t slow.
Mac smiled and toasted him with a bottle of juice. “Haven. The ships are derelicts. Abandoned.”
“We could use a look,” he said eagerly. “We don’t have much in the way of modern technology references—trade items, some catalogs. The modern Dhryn didn’t export much of their own manufacture.”
“Shouldn’t be hard to arrange. They’re bringing the best preserved to Myriam. Should arrive before we do.”
Lyle looked startled, then frowned at her. “Why?”
Mac shrugged. “If I said it offers exquisite congruence to the Sinzi, would that help?” At his blank expression, she cupped her hands on the table, forming an enclosure. “The IU wants all valuable Dhryn artifacts in a place where they can’t be claimed by any other species.”
“Like that, is it?” Lyle pressed his lips together in a thin line, then nodded. “Explaining this ship. I had my doubts it was because the Ministry had suddenly realized the value of its crack team of archaeologists. Politics.”
“We’ve done pretty well avoiding them so far,” Mac shrugged. “Bound to happen. So long as it doesn’t interfere with our work.” She rubbed a spot on the tabletop with one finger, wondering how best to tell him the rest. “There will be a change, Lyle,” she began.
“They’ll take you off Origins. To work on these ships.”
So much for how to tell him.
She nodded, lowering her voice. No one was close by, but she’d noticed the Cey had superior hearing.
Probably the wrinkles.
“To start anyway,” she admitted. “Ship controls and systems should be IU standard, Instella, but they’re hoping for Dhryn records, vids. You should go ahead and take charge. I’m not sure how long this will all take.”
Just then, the Sthlynii contingent went storming past, Mudge in their midst, tentacles and vowels flinging. There was the sound of doors whooshing open and a shout.
“You might want Oversight,” Mac added thoughtfully.
“Definitely,” Lyle agreed, whose eyes had followed the group out of sight. “Oh, here. You’ll find one on yours.” He pulled out his imp and activated his ’screen, setting it between them. It displayed their present location within the ship. Mac studied it, unsurprised to see most of what surrounded them left blank.
They were passengers, not crew.
Lyle ran his finger through the image, highlighting various areas in turn. “Down this corridor is the section entry station—where we can access additional stores, pick up an escort to the medlab, hangar etc.”
Mac nodded. They’d passed the clear-walled room with its trio of crew sitting at consoles on the way here. Doug and Kaili had waved—likely so their group hadn’t needed to stop and check in.
Escorts and guards.
She shook off a sense of being trapped.
Same side, remember.
“Here we are. These are your quarters, Mac. We’re all doubled up, so you’ll be sharing with—” He consulted a text list Mac didn’t bother to read. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
The pink blotches deepened on his cheeks. “This has to be wrong. Someone’s made a last minute change. I’ll look into it.”
Mac dismissed his concern. “Doesn’t matter, Lyle. It’s only four nights. I’ll probably work through two anyway. Who is it, anyway?”
“We’re too cramped,” he fussed. “It’s not just this ship. It’s all the—” a sweep of his fingers illuminated the adjoining set of rooms “—others.”
“Others? What others?” Then it dawned on her and her eyes widened. “Don’t tell me the Grimnoii talked their way into coming with you.”
He nodded, as glum-faced as one of the heavyset aliens. “Along with some Frow.”
Mac wasn’t sure if she should laugh or throw the rest of her sandwich at him. “Anyone else?”
“That’s it.”
“Should make for an interesting trip.” She finished her drink.
“About your roommate, Mac—”
Before Lyle could finish, dozens of tiny claws fastened into Mac’s back and shoulders. She yelped. Six Myg offspring cheerily yelped with her, then began gumming her neck, scalp, and ears with painful enthusiasm.
They’d missed her.
“Er, that would be roommates.”
Eyes watering, Mac glared at Lyle as she struggled with the Mygs. “You can’t be serious.”
He pointed at the text. “Says here Fourteen took a vow of celibacy when we boarded. He’s sharing with Da’a. That leaves—”
“There you are, Mac!” Unensela swooped up to their table, completely disregarding her offspring or their current preoccupation. “I hope you aren’t a noisy sleeper. I need peace and quiet at night. I must be able to concentrate on my important work.”
What she needed,
Mac decided then and there,
was to beg enough Fastfix from Doug and Kaili to keep her awake until Myriam.
An offspring found her chin and began to chew.

Other books

Twisted Threads by Lea Wait
Otherwise Engaged by Suzanne Finnamore
WHITE WALLS by Hammond, Lauren
The Ashes of London by Andrew Taylor
Shameless by Robards, Karen
Cold Tuscan Stone by David P Wagner
Johnny Get Your Gun by John Ball
Wife for a Day by Patti Berg