4.
Rosaria and Abby lay at the center of the circle of their new ‘friends,’ soaking in artificial rays from lounge chairs on the main deck. The temperature was hot enough for a prickle of sweat to almost form into actual drops, but not quite. The bright ‘sunlight’ was a disturbing contrast to the black of space directly beyond the shield that kept them all from floating away into nothing. It was like having night and day simultaneously, something that itched as wrongwrongwrong under Rosaria’s skin.
No one else seemed to feel it, going around with drinks in hand as they talked and laughed.
“Okay, what’s wrong? You’ve been pouting ever since getting ditched by that guy at the party.”
She glanced at Abby and said, “That’s not it.”
Leaning up on an elbow, Abby demanded, “Then what?”
It was just about impossible to put into words, though. She knew how stupid it would sound if she said anything about the dread that clawed her gut at the strangest times, starting back at boarding. Instead, she just shrugged and said, “It’s nothing. I guess this just isn’t turning out how I thought it would be.”
Abby rolled her eyes and said, “And just how did you think it would be? Nonstop partying and sleeping away the day?”
“Kinda, yeah,” Rosaria replied, grinning. “You’re slackin’ in the entertainment department, woman.”
Snorting, Abby said, “I’ll have you know that we’re going to a very hot party tonight.”
“Oh?”
“Midnight, below-decks.”
Rosaria quirked an eyebrow at her. “Haven’t we already done that?”
Abby wrinkled her nose in answer. “I’ve been told there will be something extra special for this one. Same location, very different party.”
With a shrug, Rosaria closed her eyes. “I guess we’ll see.”
***
Bob rolled slowly along the corridor on his way to the captain’s office. Ever since reattaching his foot, he’d had the worst joint pain. Using his wheels was almost impossible, even though he’d used plenty of lubricant before leaving his cubby. He’d barely been able to make himself go online that morning, knowing that Greg was just waiting for him to make a mistake. He’d already brought it to the First’s attention that Bob had wrecked the lift and fireworks’ control panels.
Bob was on thin ice, and he knew it. The Company didn’t tolerate robots who destroyed property in order to do their jobs. Never mind that Greg had sabotaged him.
“No one ever listens to the robot,” he muttered.
He rounded the corner and stopped short. Down the hall, he spotted a massive, black predator on four legs. How had it gotten aboard? Why hadn’t anyone spotted it? Where was security?
Alarm for the passengers caused a hundred different scenarios to flash through his synapses, all of them ending in blood and screams. He spun around and wheeled to the emergency controls. He connected to it and brought up the containment field, setting off the security alarm.
The giant cat reared back in response to the electric field, yowling in surprise, maybe anger, Bob couldn’t tell. It turned to face him and he suddenly realized that he was within the field and in danger of getting scored by some wickedly sharp-looking claws.
“Help! Help!” he shouted, pressing back against the field as it came closer. “Someone? Anyone? Help!”
“What the hell is going on here?”
Bob wondered the same thing when the animal sat on its haunches with a strangely expectant look on its face. He looked over at the security guards on the other side of the shimmering field and said, “Somehow that predator got on board, sir! It could eat someone! It could damage me!”
The big man scowled at him and aimed a remote at the field, dispersing it. “I’ll damage you, you stupid robot! That’s a passenger! Ma’am, I’m very sorry about the misunderstanding. Please accept our apologies for the insult and inconvenience.”
“Passenger?” Bob repeated dumbly.
The security officer ignored him, looking intently at the cat and then saying, “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll be sure and upgrade Bob’s species list so that you’re included, and see that all the ‘bots are similarly upgraded so it doesn’t happen again.”
Standing, the cat regally inclined its head and walked back down the hall in the direction in which it had been going when Bob had first seen it.
Bob looked at the security officer and cringed.
“You. Engineering. Now.”
This was not good.
***
Martha was caught between amusement and irritation at the robot’s behavior, but assured the security officer that everything was fine. Its squared body and limbs, the face which only vaguely resembled human features with blue lights for eyes, and a square mouth and jaw that in moved a blockish, clumsy fashion all added up to an old model robot. Many on the ship were just as old, so mistakes were bound to happen. It was actually an oddity, considering that everything else on the ship was brand new.
Then again, she thought, they needed to cut the budget somewhere for all of this, I’m sure.
She continued on her trip to the main deck to find Dinah for a round of Gin Rummy, a game of which she’d become fond over the last couple of days. They’d taken to having a game an hour or so before dinner, each winning various times and always scoring very closely. Having a challenging opponent was a good thing, something she enjoyed, and the game was new enough that it didn’t bore her.
Dinah sat at a table in a shaded area, the same table she’d had the night before. The artificial sun had shifted to a late-afternoon tone, embossing the deck in a warm, golden light. Martha let out a contented sigh at the rise in temperature, much higher than that in the corridors.
“I do enjoy the heat more in my old age, don’t you?” Dinah asked.
Martha said, I do, yes.
Dinah’s hair was braided into an improbable, waterfall configuration. Martha didn’t know who did the woman’s hair, but whoever it was, was extremely talented to convey such a complex image in a static medium. Curious, she asked, Just how long is your hair?
Dinah chortled and answered, “You know, I don’t actually know. I haven’t measured it in a long time. It’s a few feet trailing the floor, though.”
The ridges over Martha’s eyes rose skeptically. The older woman’s neck didn’t seem strong enough to support such a great weight, if that was an accurate statement. That’s most unusual. Is it a family tradition?
Dinah shrugged and said, “Not really. More like me holding onto the past. My husband always loved it when my hair was long, and when he died--oh, ten years ago now--I promised myself I wouldn’t cut it again.”
I’m sorry for your loss, Martha said. Dinah’s sadness was still very strong even after all these years and it touched her, again, how deeply these people could feel for one another, especially as mindblind as they were. It was alien to her, for she’d certainly not felt the same for any of her own mates.
Dinah’s mouth quirked briefly and she said, “Thank you. People always kept telling me to move on, but really, there’s nothing for me to move on to. I’ve had my great love and I’ll see him again someday. What about you? Any husband waiting for you back home?”
Martha shook her head. No, we don’t mate for life as you humans sometimes do. I’ve had three mates in my time and five wonderful sets of children.
Dinah’s eyebrows rose comically and she exclaimed, “Sets? Just how many in a set?”
Three in my first, two in my second, four in my third, and that’s unusual, as I was getting older by then. My fourth set had two and so did my last set.
“Oh my,” Dinah said faintly. “That’s… thirteen children?”
Martha smiled proudly and replied, They’re all grown now, and a wonderful mix of artist and artisan. And I have twenty-three grandchildren already! I’ll show you holos of them later, if you like?
“Of course,” Dinah said, regaining her composure. “Now then. Shall we play?”
***
Rosaria saw Ma’tha’skiyainashtra walk onto the deck and felt a little thrill go through her. She’d seen her a few times over the last couple of days, but not in a social-enough setting to feel it appropriate to approach. Sitting up, she leaned over toward Abby and said, “I’m going to say hello.”
Abby frowned and said, “To who? Everyone’s here.”
“Ma’tha’skiyainashtra.”
“I don’t know how you even pronounce that.”
“Don’t be xenophobic.”
Abby made a face and returned to her sunbathing.
Rosaria hopped to her feet and dried off the sweat before donning her serape. It was a silky fabric made from fruit pulp that shimmered around her as she walked, drawing admiring gazes. She stopped at the table where Ma’tha’skiyainashtra and an old woman with crazy braids sat playing cards on the table monitor. The privacy screen ensured that neither player could cheat, and, of course, the controls were likely easier for Ma’tha’skiyainashtra to handle than actual cards.
They both looked at her when she stopped and the old woman gave her a disdainful look before prompting, “Yes?”
Rosaria smiled winsomely at her. “Hi there. I’m Rosaria Serrano. I don’t mean to interrupt your game, I just wanted to say hello."
The old woman sniffed and said, “You’ve said it; now go away, girl.”
Gentle laughter echoed at Rosaria’s ear and she heard, Be nice, Dinah. She’s just being friendly.
“She’s being rude, interrupting us for that,” Dinah retorted.
Please excuse my friend: she gets intense about Gin Rummy, apparently, Ma’tha’skiyainashtra said. Her lips drew back to reveal large fangs in what Rosaria presumed was a smile. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rosaria Serrano. My name is Ma’tha’skiyainashtra, but you may call me Martha.
Rosaria let out a short breath and said, “Ma’tha’skiyainashtra, right? Did I get the accent correct?”
A sense of pleasant surprise overtook Rosaria and Ma’tha’skiyainashtra said, That’s perfect, dear! How lovely. Would you care to join us for dinner? I’m sure we can squeeze you in at the table, can’t we, Dinah?
Dinah looked like she’d swallowed a shot of raw lemon juice, but said, “Of course.”
Feeling a bit like she’d suddenly arrived at the grown-ups’ table, Rosaria said, “Thank you so much for the invitation. I’ll see you at dinner. Good bye!”
Goodbye, dear, Ma’tha’skiyainashtra said, revealing fangs again.
Dinah wrinkled her nose and inclined her head, turning her attention back to the game.
Rosaria left with a wave at Ma’tha’skiyainashtra and returned to her chaise beside Abby.
“And how are the old ladies?” Abby asked dryly.
“You are such an ageist,” Rosaria told her. “You don’t even know how old Ma’tha’skiyainashtra is.”
Abby snorted. “Please. She’s at least a grandmother, if she’s hanging out with that old biddy.”
Rosaria shook her head, a little dismayed by her friend’s attitude; but then, Abby had never had grandparents. “I’m eating dinner with them tonight, if you want to join us.”
Abby’s eyebrows lifted and she incredulously demanded, “Are you insane? Rosie, c’mon. We’re here to have fun and celebrate your big three-oh! Having dinner with them will just make you feel old…er.”
Rosaria snickered. “Bitch.”
Abby made a kissy noise and said, “You know you love me.”
***
Rosaria dressed in casual, black slacks and a shimmering, silver top, pulling her hair back into a soft chignon. When she looked over at Abby in a flowing, flowery mini-dress, she said, “So you’re not eating with me tonight then.”
Abby snorted. “As if. Just don’t forget we have a party tonight at midnight and please, please, please change before you come. Oh wait, you’ll be done with dinner by nine and in bed by ten now, right?”
The lights flickered and went out before Rosaria could respond with appropriately cutting words. She gasped, but the lights came on a few seconds later. Abby looked just as pale as she felt and Rosaria said, “It’s just a short. I’m sure everything’s fine.”
“Of course it is,” Abby agreed.
They linked arms on the way to dinner.
***
Rosaria turned out to be a well-rounded young woman with a good head on her shoulders, at least from the conversations she participated in at dinner. Martha was very pleased with the addition to their table. They’d had a long chat during the second course about her diplomatic post and what she’d be doing on Earth. Even Dinah unbent enough to exchange civilities toward the end of the meal.
So what brings you to this cruise? Martha asked.
Rosaria shrugged and said, sounding a bit self-conscious, “It’s a birthday present from my mother. My best friend Abby thought this would be a great way to start my thirties. Going out with a bang, so to speak.”
Martha smiled and said, Thirty is just a baby. You have such a long life ahead of you. No need to get maudlin about that age.
“It’s a rite of passage,” Lily said. “For women, especially. You men don’t even blink.”
Craig grinned at her and responded, “Nope. We’re totally oblivious until sixty looms around the corner.”
A loud, mechanical shrieking echoed through the ballroom and everyone froze. Martha looked around the room for the source as her ears flattened against her skull protectively. The humans at the table covered their ears, but it didn’t seem to do them any good, judging from all the flinches and wincing.
It stopped at last and, moments later, someone said over the comm system, “Ah, sorry about that folks, we’re having a little technical difficulty with the PA system. Everything’s fine now. Thank you.”
“What on earth was that about?” Tom demanded.
Dinah said, “I don’t know about any of you, but I was locked in my quarters for a full fifteen minutes earlier today. I had to call and get someone to let me out!”
Lily nodded rapidly and added, “My shower still isn’t working! It’s a good thing that Craig’s is or we’d have to move.”
Rosaria spoke up. “Our lights went out just before dinner. It was only for a few seconds, but still… If everyone’s experiencing problems then maybe…”
Maybe it’s the Fluctuation causing it, Martha finished for her.
Silvia looked both frightened and thrilled as she said, “It’s crazy to think that there might actually be something to all the stories!”
There were similar sentiments coming from all around the dining room. Martha could feel the big thrill of the forbidden coming from many around her. Some were genuinely nervous, almost frightened, but most were titillated.
Somehow that didn’t make her feel any better.