3.
Martha padded silently into the ballroom, almost hidden within the crush of well-dressed people attending the opening dinner and dance combo the first night out. Most of them didn’t even see her, or she knew they would be giving her a wide berth.
At first glance, the main ballroom was a massive, glittering affair filled with chandeliers, crystal, and very expensive china. Martha walked over the marble floor and spotted a band dressed in tuxes playing a lively tune. An empty dance area stood directly in front of the band and she wondered if there would actually be dancing later. She’d seen humans dance before in holos and found it a graceful, elegant affair at some events and, at other times, she’d seen a wild, writhing room filled with abandon. It was difficult to say which she enjoyed more, but given the refine atmosphere, Martha doubted there would be much abandoned in the ballroom.
Her original crewman had apparently traded with another crewmember, this one a pretty, dark-haired girl in her twenties if Martha read the age right. Humans’ ages were difficult for her to tell once they’d gotten out of their obvious youngling stage. “Ms. Martha? I’m Sandra and I’ll be your personal assistant for the rest of the voyage. I’m afraid Todd isn’t feeling well.”
Martha took the lie at face value and smiled before thinking at her, That’s fine. Tell Todd I hope he feels better.
Sandra looked startled a moment, blue eyes going wide, and then smiled back. “I was told your people were telepathic, but didn’t know what to expect. How unusual! It’s like your voice is right at my ear, not actually inside my head.”
I think we’re going to be good friends, Sandra, Martha said, pleased by the reaction.
Sandra nodded and motioned into the ballroom and said, “I think so, too. If you’ll follow me, I will show you to your table.”
There were five others at her table, all human, but none of them showed any kind of fearful reaction to her presence, just curiosity and friendliness. The cruise line must have ascertained just who would and wouldn’t have a problem with dining or interacting with her. It was a small courtesy that made her feel a lot better about humans in general. Perhaps there could be more than trade agreements between their people after all.
Sandra introduced everyone as Martha hopped up onto the slightly wider-than-average chair, and then left them to dinner. It gave Martha a chance to look over her companions. Tom and Silvia Reynolds, a dark-skinned couple in their forties, had a lively emotional sense to them, as if they found everything funny. An austere, older woman, Dinah French, sat directly beside Martha, the woman’s white hair done up in an elaborate braid in the shape of a bird. Her jewels were probably worth more than all the artwork in the room. Across the table sat Craig and Lily Bensons, a young couple, brightly dressed and as happy by nature as the Reynolds.
“It’s so good to meet you,” Lily said, smiling broadly. “I’ve met a few Kirilisaj’avians in the last year since our treaty, and must say that your people are so warm and open.”
The words sounded condescending, but Martha knew they weren’t meant that way. She smiled in return and said, Thank you, Lily.
Dinah harrumphed and added, “This whole mind-reading-communication business proves that humans aren’t nearly as primitive as the Coraa and Ni’ti imply. We have the capacity to use our minds just as fully as the rest of you; we’re just not quite there yet with each other.”
I would agree, Martha said. I think humankind has other gifts that made developing mindspeak among your people unnecessary. It is fortunate that you can communicate with us, if not yourselves, in this fashion.
Two servers arrived then and began laying out food in front of each person without asking what they wanted. Martha remembered filling out a food questionnaire, but it still seemed odd that no one would ask what people were in the mood for at that particular moment. When a large, seared steak was set in front of her, however, Martha suddenly wanted nothing else. It was exactly what she would have ordered.
Silvia exclaimed, “My goodness! When they said the chefs were adept at knowing what to cook, they weren’t kidding!”
“I wonder how they do it?” Tom added
Martha wondered if there was another telepath on board, but then realized that would be ludicrous. Even a handful of telepaths couldn’t discern and relay so quickly what approximately three hundred people would want for dinner. It was most likely just a very sophisticated algorithm.
Dinner passed very pleasantly, with varied conversation and a number of humorous observations of those around them. Towards the end of the meal, she spotted that raven-haired girl from the deck walking out of the room with another girl. Their behavior might have been casual, but their thoughts were screaming boreboredbored and partypartyparty in no uncertain terms.
She chuckled and thought, ‘It looks like the young are the same no matter what species.’
Turning back to the conversation, she heard Lily say, “…strangest thing, but my shower took three tries to get working before dinner. I wouldn’t think that such a new ship would have any problems, would you?”
Tom frowned. “That is strange. We haven’t had any problems; maybe it’s just your unit. You should find an FSR to take a look at it.”
Lily nodded thoughtfully. “I think I will.”
Captain Stephen Sachowski, a distinguished man with salt-and-pepper hair--as the human phrase went--stopped by their table. He was a fit man for his age, with no sign of the rounded stomach that Martha saw in many aged humans. Aside from the wrinkles at his eyes and his hair, she might have placed him as much younger.
“And how is everything going so far?” Captain Sachowski greeted. “I trust that everything’s been to your satisfaction?”
Lily apparently chose discretion and merely smiled as she nodded along with everyone else.
Martha said, You have a lovely ship here, Captain.
Beaming, Captain Sachowski said, “Thank you, Ms. Ma’tha’skiyainashtra, she is a beauty. If any of you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
He moved on and Silvia said definitively, “I feel very safe in that man’s care.”
With a nod, Martha agreed, As do I.
***
A thumping rhythm startled Evan a few hours after the cruise’s launch. It had nothing to do with the working of the ship, that much he knew, but had no idea what it could be. Wary, he took his lamp and walked across the hold to the door. He opened it a crack and peered out to discover another world in the next hold.
Someone had decorated the bare, metal bones of the room with blinking lights, comfortable furniture, a bar with food and drinks, and a DJ station. It was still dark, but in a club sort of way; or how he pictured clubs, since he was still too young to get into one. There were at least fifty people dancing and mingling as the music blared and reverberated against the walls. More were trickling in from the opposite side, through the door that led to the hall where a lift would bring them above-decks.
Evan set his lamp down and stepped through the opening, propping open the door. Not that he couldn’t hack his way back in--it had been almost too easy the first time--but it would be quicker this way.
A few seconds after entering the room a redheaded girl handed him a drink and shouted over the music, “You’re cute! Let’s dance!”
Evan’s eyes widened and he let her tug him onto the makeshift dance floor out of surprise more than anything else.
***
Rosaria watched Emmabeth latch onto a kid who couldn’t be legal and drag him onto the dance floor. The kid had big, dark eyes, wide and startled, which strengthened his resemblance to the mythical Bambi.
“I told you we’d miss all the cuties if we got here late!” Abby shouted over the music.
Rosaria rolled her eyes and shouted back, “What about your harem?”
Abby glanced over to where Ken, Mike, Aziz, Floyd, Paolo, and Marcus stoically held up the wall, talking together. In the scant four hours since boarding, Abby had collected three sycophantic girls and a harem of six hot guys that ranged between ‘too young, but hot enough for it not to matter’ and ‘rich enough to make Dad irritable, but age appropriate.’
It happened whenever they went anywhere for any significant amount of time, and had since they’d been at university together. Abby naturally dominated those around her, in a mostly nice way, and people gravitated to her like moons to planets. It probably had something to do with the fact that her family had run one of the outlying colonies for a couple of generations. It was just in her blood.
With a moue of irritation, Abby said, “They don’t dance! Any of them! Can you believe it?”
I really can, Rosaria thought, snickering to herself. “Serves you right for going with brawn over brains!”
Abby made another face at her and downed her drink before bouncing her way onto the dance floor between Emmabeth and the new kid. The redhead glared at Abby’s back but went to find another partner. It wasn’t like she had the will to challenge Abby. The kid looked even more startled when Abby put her hands on his shoulders and shifted closer.
Rosaria shook her head fondly and sipped at her drink. It was a decent party, though she could’ve done without the storage-crate background. It was sure as hell better than the dinner and dancing going on in the main ballroom. She’d been hoping to find Ma’tha’skiyainashtra and introduce herself, but Abby had grown impatient with the whole situation very quickly. Their stuffy dinner companions had been business types in their early thirties and neither had much in common with any of them.
Cutting out had been a foregone conclusion, though Rosaria had figured they would at least wait until dessert. How someone had time to put all this together so fast--unless it was a crewmember that didn’t care if they got fired--she had no idea. And how Abby had found out about it was a mystery. It didn’t matter where they went or how long they’d been there, Abby always found a place to party. It was a gift.
“Hi!”
Rosaria looked over at the shout. A handsome man around her age, with dark hair and eyes, and a becoming five o’clock shadow, held a drink out to her. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. She took the drink, even though she never did so from strangers. He wore faded jeans and a loose, blue shirt of all things, very unfashionable, and had a confidence that had nothing to do with money. This was a man who’d done things in his life and come through with experience and a surety that gave her an oddly immediate sense of security.
“I’m Evan!”
“Rosaria!”
“Pretty name! You want to dance?”
Rosaria did want to dance and smiled as he held out a hand. She took it and let him lead her onto the dance floor. A strong arm went around her waist and drew her in closely. He moved as if the driving beat from the song had nothing to do with them, going at a slow, fluid pace that Rosaria could almost hear in her head.
When he tugged her even closer, Rosaria’s heart skipped with anticipation and she rested her head on his shoulder.
***
Captain Stephen Sachowski eyed the navigation system with suspicion. This trip into the Fluctuation would give him enough to not only retire, but to do so as the owner of a nice little café on a tropical planet somewhere. There was a good reason for the high level of compensation, of course, and he wasn’t one to take the risk lightly. Ninety-four ships had disappeared into the spatial anomaly and it was entirely possible that, despite her advanced technological resources, the Connemara would become ship number ninety-five.
He cleared his throat and said, “Maintain course and speed as we head into the Fluctuation.”
“Maintaining course and speed, aye, Captain,” his First Lieutenant echoed from his position in front of the panel.
Two minutes until they crossed that invisible barrier where equipment failed without reason and people vanished, their ships returning empty... if they returned at all
One minute and forty seconds before they entered unknown, and unknowable, space.
One minute, ten seconds and they would likely lose communication with base command. He’d reported in ten minutes earlier to confirm that they were about to enter the Fluctuation and give exact coordinates… just in case.
Fifty-three seconds from then, the Connemara would glide into the anomaly.
Stephen’s fists clenched at thirty-two seconds out, an unconscious gesture that betrayed his outward calm.
Ten seconds.
Five.
“Crossing into the Fluctuation now, Captain.”
Stephen paused, but there was no sign that anything had gone wrong. “All systems?”
There was a brief silence and then his First said, “All systems go,” with relief saturating his voice.
Being the captain, Stephen couldn’t exactly let out a sigh of relief or even allow it to color his voice. Instead, he walked to the comm station and pressed the ship-wide button to say, “Good evening, everyone, this is your captain speaking. We have successfully crossed into the Fluctuation and all systems are working. Have a good evening.”
Stephen took his finger off the button and said, “I’ll be in my office. You have the helm, First Lieutenant.”
“Aye, Sir.”
He definitely needed a drink.
***
The ballroom lights went out unexpectedly, and Martha blinked in surprise. Gasps and startled noises from the other diners filled the air. They came back on only a few seconds later, her eyes adjusting more quickly than her human companions, who squinted as they looked around.
“Good evening, everyone, this is your captain speaking. We have successfully crossed into the Fluctuation and all systems are working. Have a good evening.”
Excited chatter competed with the mental flickering of fear and nervousness that saturated the room.
“This is so exciting!” Lily exclaimed, wringing her hands. “I can’t believe we’re really there!”
Craig didn’t look all that thrilled, but gave his wife a brief smile and said, “It’s what we paid for, after all.”
She leaned over to kiss him and replied brightly, “And thank you for my birthday present, honey. I know this isn’t what you’d like to be doing.”
What about you Tom? Silvia? Martha asked. What brings you aboard?
Tom took Silvia’s hand. “It’s our twentieth anniversary. She thought it would be exciting.”
Silvia’s free hand rapped on the table as she continued, “And it is! So far, so good, right?”
Martha nodded and hoped the rest of the trip went just as smoothly. As much as she’d like to have an adventure, too much excitement at her age wouldn’t necessarily be a good thing.
***
The music skipped and stuttered, the lights going out at the same time. Rosaria’s hands gripped Evan’s shoulders tighter, pressing up against his broad chest. His hand cupped her hip protectively.
The lights came back, but not the music, as the captain announced, “Good evening, everyone, this is your captain speaking. We have successfully crossed into the Fluctuation and all systems are working. Have a good evening.”
In the semi-darkness, Rosaria looked up at Evan and found him looking down at her. He was a couple of inches taller than her own almost six-foot frame, which made for a nice change. Most of the guys in her economic bracket were fit, but on the shorter side. Her grandmother had joked about inbreeding a long time ago, which she hadn’t understood back then, but now and then wondered about.
“You’re so beautiful,” Evan murmured into the quiet that surrounded them.
Rosaria’s breath caught when he bent down and kissed her softly and slowly. A few long moments later, she pulled back… the oddest sensation of kissing her brother had surfaced. Or, what she imagined kissing a brother would be like since she didn’t actually have one.
From the rueful expression on Evan’s face, he had felt something similar. “Well. That answers that long-unanswered question.” He kissed her forehead and released her, saying, “You really are beautiful,” before disappearing into the crowd.
Thoroughly confused, she thought, What the hell just happened?