Chameleon Ch 35

Jackson negotiated a contract, if not perfect, that was satisfactory for hiring three humans from the compound to assist his engineers with the repairs. Humans were worth more pay simply because they would fit into EVA suits. Their needs and conditions were known and accommodated, rather than small Kiians or large Pegasi that would prove problematic.

While the Terra Ceti cargo handlers went about their business, Jackson headed straight for the lodging on the other side of town where he’d left Rianya, Zalara, and Honey. The darkness festival had a couple more nights to go.

Jackson didn’t waste any time. He wanted to give the Pegasi a chunk of hell for what they’d done. He would, if time permitted. But that was something he’d probably better take up the Cetian government. Such disposal of radioactive waste, even low-level waste, was a danger to every ship that took up an orbit around the planet. He could put in a formal complaint and request for reimbursement with the Space Admin and they could follow up through diplomatic channels. Such dilemmas and consequences were better left to ambassadors and politicians, not star ship captains.

Without three females in his company, he noticed something different in the city. Not just that Kiians and Pegasi also milled and congregated, but that Pegasi females accompanied Cetian males, and Cetian couples, almost like servants. Of course, the last time he’d been on the surface, Pegasi and Kiians were still outsiders, not even known to the native populations. Now they were everywhere.

He followed the omnibus tracks out of town toward the rooming house. The sunlight would be with him with time to spare if he didn’t stop to sight see. Nevertheless, some Cetians had started fires in their smudge pots and kettles, getting ready for sales of dinner time meals, of roasted birds and small game. The kindling was fragrant, much like cedar and pine, and the orange flames licked at the grills to prepare for the coming meats. At the edge of town, one of the last vendors served up a dozen hot beverages, and Tom couldn’t pass her by. He stopped to look.

“Half the price tonight,” she said. “I ready to sell out.” The lady bowed her head slightly, her dark hair tied neatly behind her shoulders with a red cloth ribbon that matched the red sash of her black cover all. Her terra cotta colored skin was quite average for her people, her eyes a common amber.

“Four,” he began. “Two hot affen cider, one purple tea, one ground black-bean.” As she prepared the drinks Tom dug some gold coins out of his pocket. A couple stepped up beside him, and as he’d noticed before, a slight, Pegasi woman stood behind them. “Pretty evening,” he said to them.

“But always nice when the power returns,” the Cetian woman said.

The vendor put four cups in a box and covered it with a cloth.

“How much?” Tom asked. She said a number, a word he didn’t know. He opened his hand and held the coins out to her to select the correct change. Her eyes widened a bit, then she selected two large coins and four small ones.

“Keep them,” she said, pointing to the box. “Much appreciation.”

“Good night, then,” Tom said to them all, putting the remaining gold back in his pocket, lifting the box and striding on. A cool breeze signaled the day would be done soon, the darkness about to swallow each person for a few hours while the planet turned to the dark side.

A group of perhaps a dozen people crossed his path just ahead. Three lanterns waved back and forth with their pace, headed in two directions, one past him toward the city, another straight on. One dropped something and stopped to pick it up – a book. Jackson stopped and squinted up the lane from whence the party had come. It was the library.

A hint of nostalgia raised its konji-sized head and transported him back in time. If the library was there, then Quinaal’s home was over there, a kilometer or so along the cobbled street. He took a few steps after the party that had taken the road, but saw no one he recognized. Her affection was a lifetime ago, and they’d both moved on without regrets.

He reached inside the box and pulled out the black bean brew, the Cetian version of espresso, and took an unsweetened, wee drink of it. Describing it as strong might have been the understatement of the year, but bitter it was not. The woman had made a truly fine, rich cup for him, the fragrance something like coffee and almonds. Sufficiently distracted, he took another sip and continued to the boarding house.

Walking through the door the evening shift Pegasi woman greeted him, offering to carry his box to his room.

“It’s not far, I’m just here,” he said. They’d been in the lower level corner room for a couple of days now, and she left him alone. He knocked shortly.

“Rianya? I’m back,” he appealed through the door. It was half a minute before she opened it.

“Love, you look exhausted!”

“I am. I hope you don’t want to go anywhere.”

“I’ve been taking care of Mamá.”

“I’m glad you were here,” Tom told the girl. “Where’s Honey?”

“I sent her to get food from the kitchen,” Rianya said. “What’s that?”

“Drinks, probably lukewarm by now,” he said with a pinch of sorrow, but still fishing each one out and handing it to the appropriate recipient. He set his aside and searched the drawers for any sugar that might have come along on the shore leave. 

“Where did you get them?”

“A vendor, on the street, not too far, back at the festival.” Rianya took a taste of the purple tea and then another. “You like?”

“It’s like warm, liquid fruit, like winter tea,” she said with a sleepy smile. “Thank you, Mylan.”

Honey bounded in with a large tray, several dishes crowded on it with undefinable foods in many colors, textures, and smells. Tom rescued her, taking the tray, and placing it on the table.

“Someone needs to light some candles,” Tom hinted. Rianya complied, and amidst the bustle, the four of them sampled and discovered their way through dinner. Tom took the tray back to the kitchen, handing it off to the Pegasi woman who seemed ever present at the house. By the time he was back, the girls had crashed with full stomachs and warm blankets.

“I missed you,” Rianya said when he sat on the bed beside her.

“I was only gone for the day, Love.” He kicked off his shoes and smiled at her. “You look like you’ve run a marathon.”

“I really should get back to the ship. This is a lovely place to visit, but I’m a spoiled, technology-lady now. I want to use the bath, I want a change of clothes, I want to sleep in our own bed.”

“We’re going home tomorrow. We won’t be out of orbit for a while but our vacation is over. I’ve had everyone recalled from the surface to deal with the repairs.”

“I don’t understand what happened.” She lay on the bed, on her side, stuffing pillows where temporary gaps needed filling.

“The Pegasi are leaving containers of radioactive waste in orbit. It’s cheap, stupid, and the more aliens that come to visit are going to make it even more dangerous. The radar man, Jake, told me the containers have thrusters to keep them in a high orbit. They could run for centuries on the decay energy, but it’s an outrageous place to put them.”

“What else could they do with it?” Tom turned down his side of the bed, dropped his shirt and trousers on the floor, and slid between coarse, flaxen sheets as close to Rianya as he could get. “Don’t get too close, I’ll get stuck in the middle,” she grumbled.

“They should send it to Tau Ceti in a self-destructing container, or at least take it to one of the moons where there’s no atmosphere to degrade the containers. It’s an old problem. That’s why no one uses uranium anymore. Even here, using thorium, it’s not perfect. Probably why they don’t think it’s an issue to leave it in orbit. It’s low level waste.”

“Hmph,” she mumbled. Tom brushed some hair out of her face, pulled the covers over her, and got up. Whatever was in the drink had him on the edge and sleep was far away. He started to think of the craziness going on around him. But for his family he didn’t mind chaos. He thought he could do both: be the captain of his ship and have a family along, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it anymore. It was unfair to the crew that his attention was elsewhere, and unfair to his family when the ship had to take priority.

He paced over to the sleeping girls. Neptune above, he was going to have four of them to watch out for, if he counted his wife as a girl. Adult or child, they were his responsibility. The circles of logic and worry began to wind up tighter in his head, piling on top of each other.  He straightened their blankets, then wandered to the window. A curtain of charcoal black had fallen; random, yellow splotches of fire burned holes through the darkness.

He put on his clothes and a jacket, then strolled into the common area of the rooming house. A single lantern burned with a generous candle inside, enough to see the dark outlines of furniture, doors, windows, and the tables and chairs. The candle was fragrant, a mixture of herbs and spices apparently melted in with the tallow for extra ambiance, as if the flickering flame were not enough.

Tom carefully let himself out the main door to avoid disturbing anyone. Pulling his coat closer, he stood just off the porch in the roadway, near the omnibus tracks. Then he looked up. The moonless night had a spectacular show above his head. It was a unique view of the Milky Way from this planet. Its tilt to the galactic plane showcased the black clouds and stark diamonds, the colorful dust and purple gas, not vertically, as seen from Earth, but near horizontally, from east to west.

This new view of the universe, from that pinpoint in space, he’d not remembered before. He’d seen the center of the spiral from dozens of different locations, each unique, of course, but the night was remarkably clear, the breeze having taken the smoke out to sea, not over the plain. He could see it appeared different, but not so much that it was unrecognizable, the most fascinating thing in the sky from anywhere in the entire galaxy. It was ever present, eternal, without fail. 

A silver speck shot across the sky, a trail of glitter streaking behind it, for a second, maybe two, and was gone. The infinite beauty of the cosmos left him speechless. He was surrounded by Everything, part of it, not a separate life, but wholly integrated. At that singular moment, Tom’s definition of what defined a person evolved.

Passionately high, he abruptly felt sleepy, and returned indoors. He was greeted by the Pegasi woman with the flower tattoos on her head, neck, shoulders, and arms. In the candlelight her emerald skin tone appeared dusky, like sage, and her dermal art understated in the shadows.

“Mr. Captain, do you need anything?”

“I was simply admiring the beautiful sky tonight. Are you always here?” he asked, surprised that no matter the time of day or night she was there, waiting to serve whomever was in need.

“What’s your name?”

“Katida. You not need me?” Her expression was inviting, almost sultry, but not brash. “That why I’m here.” Tom realized she was not the cook, nor was she the housekeeper. “Your woman fat with childs.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Tom chuckled. “No, thank you.” He turned but she touched his arm.

“You not need gold. It what we do.” That explained a lot. In fact, it explained everything. She turned, looking over her floral-tattooed shoulder, then turned again to face him.

“Good night, Katida.”