When I finally made it back to my room, the first thing I did was charge my old compwatch. Now that I would be around strangers regularly, I couldn’t afford to leave it behind again. Then, I clapped my hand and opened a screen to research the new races I’d seen.
Instead of the home screen, a dancing symbol announced that I had a message. I started to skip it when I saw that it was from Ter Dryst. Eyebrows raised, I shook my wrist slightly to open the message.
Really? How did he know I hadn’t opened it? Frowning I touched the reader, waited for the drawer to pop open, and pulled out the parchment.
It looked exactly the same as the one from Tomas, which meant it should only have deceased’s details and a list of questions. Well, it was made from some sort of special material that stored an imprint of the deathwalk for verification (I have no idea why they made it to look like historic scrolls), but even considering that, I really shouldn’t need it until I was closer to the job site.
Shrugging, I unrolled it then stared in shock as a docscan slip fell out. I held my hand over it, and as soon as the information downloaded, I kicked myself for not checking the parchment earlier. Before meeting the crew. Granted, Ter Dryst hadn’t told me what was there (and I hadn’t expected a quick run to the facilities to turn into a crew gathering anyway), but it would’ve helped. A lot.
First off, it gave the name and model of the ship, which made this morning’s searching a complete waste of time. Then, it had a list of the entire crew. Apparently, it was “Te,” not “Tay.” At least, I learned that one before she knew I spelled it wrong in my head. Next to each crew member’s name was a job title. Te’s listed both pilot and negotiator, which might explain why she seemed more friendly.
Hers didn’t specify a race, but some of them did. Kith was listed as a Demost, which I’d never heard of. I almost stopped there to run a search. No. I could wait until I found out everything in the document. But I would definitely be checking before the next meal. If I’d known more about his culture earlier, I could’ve avoided a lot of tension. Or at least some rudeness.
Scrolling to the next page, I found a map of public areas of the ship, which I’m not sure the captain would want anyone to have. But I wouldn’t have to find a guide to the fitness room, so that was good. I separated that image out from the rest and saved it to my compwatch. I briefly considered saving the list of names, as well, but thought better of it. Referring to a list whenever I saw someone definitely wouldn’t earn me any points.
Going back to the document, I found that Ter Dryst had saved the best for last: a map of the journey with a time estimate. I’d sneaked a picture of Ter Fless’ with my left hand, but this was much better. It was also something I should’ve negotiated for in the first place. Sighing, I swore again not to tell Neith how much I’d overlooked in my eagerness to get paid.
All the measurements were in I.S.T., which was good since I still didn’t have a handle on Ialuan time. 1 week in Ialuan time and 1 I.S.W. were totally different, and their orbit took barely more than a single I.S.Y. It was like Ialuans deliberately added time to throw off visitors.
As I pondered Ialuan pretensions, I was skimming the trajectory and E.T.A. below the map. It was the normal computer-generated blurb, so I wasn’t giving it my full attention until I saw the note. It was at the very bottom of the page with an asterix.
Groaning, I buried my face in my hands only to jerk the left one away as the screen lights blinded me.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow. Idiot! Ow!”
Rubbing my eyes with my right hand, I wildly clapped the left. Still cursing myself, I peeked out to be sure the screen was off. It was.
I blew out a long equine breath. What a perfect addition to the record of my career.
“And that’s when the idiot Sephtis blinded himself with his own palmcomp in reaction to yet more evidence that he was an idiot.”
I resisted the urge to smack my head against the wall, reminded that I’d already done that recently. And that was enough.
“Shit.”
More than enough. Throwing myself to my feet I paced the small confines of my room. I had already spent enough time panicking and feeling pathetic. That was done. I flung my hands out in a casting-away gesture. Done.
It was time to get back on track and be the deathwalker Neith trained me to be.
Turning abruptly to the bunk, I clapped the fingers of my left hand together decisively.
“Read all exercise and clothing taboos for the races listed in the current document.”
As it automatically routed the sound to my compwatch, I dragged off my shipwear. No unusual clothing or exercise taboos. Well, don’t get sweat on any Sanubacai sing or play music aloud while exercising in a group, or leave any residue behind on equipment, but, honestly, Aunt Apikalia would’ve had my hide for doing any of that.
I pulled on fresh rec clothes and clapped my left hand. Then, I firmly slid the compwatch over it and fastened it. Time to clear my mind and start back on the right track.
The trip to the exercise area was uneventful. Score 1 for me. When I keyed in, I found that I could access it (score 2), and that it was currently empty – major score. As much as I would enjoy seeing new techniques and routines, sweating alone was what I wanted now.
Closing the door, I stopped to check the liblog. They had a surprising amount of equipment for the ship’s size. Each one had a number next to it. Scanning the empty room and the numerous numbered rectangles on the wall, I nodded to myself. Always stow the equipment when not in use. Assuming their stow unit included an autocleaning, that would take care of any residue issues, and a quick check verified that it did.
The room itself was wide and tall. The walls by the door held the square corners and straight lines of interior walls while the opposite wall curved outward. Which might explain why it was a bit cold. The light panels simulated natural light, and the floor had the look of synwood but felt more sturdy – though with a surprisingly nice cushion.
Walking into the open space, I tested the floor with a few running paces and a couple of jumps. It wasn’t nearly as jarring as I expected, and I made a mental note to ask what it was made of.
But not now.
Taking a deep, deliberate breath, I stood and assumed the stance for the first form.
“Run program: Dance of the Leaf. Medium volume.”
The sound of air filled the room enough that if I closed my eyes, I could almost convince myself I was outside. Then, the low, warm sound of flutes began to interweave through the wind, and I began to move.
Completing each familiar form was both exertion and meditation. Focusing on smooth, continuous movement, fast and slow, from position to position as well as deep, controlled breaths blotted out all else, and the challenge of movement and muscle shot through me like electricity. There was only the sound and the forms with no sense of time or self.
Eventually, the final form slowed to the final breath, and the flutes faded in a long, soft chord, leaving only the wind. Returned to my starting position, I breathed, eyes closed, as the wind, too, faded away.
When I opened my eyes and came back to myself, I felt clearer and more level-headed than I had in days. Thank moku.
I also definitely needed to clean up again, but first, I needed to clean my sweat off the floor. Wiping my face on my sleeve, I started to look for the cleaning kit. A low hum and rattle to the side had me spinning around. There was a little bot doing circuits of the floor at an impressive speed. How did it know I was done?
“Since done, bot will clean floor.”
I managed to flinch instead of jump. I was going to have to get used to Mor sneaking up on me.
“Thank you, Light One.”
Well, that explained how the bot knew I was done. He had landed on the liblog, and I had to wonder if he avoided landing on the ground for physical or emotional reasons.
“Come. Clean up.” Mor gestured and flew out the door.
After a quick check that I wasn’t still dripping, I jogged after him. He’d landed on a scan next to an adjacent door and was palming it as I caught up. The doors open to reveal a small instaclean chamber. Given the choice between getting clean and putting on dirty clothes again or being cleaned in them, I chose the latter and stepped into it fully dressed. The door slid shut, and, thankfully, Mor stayed outside.
Not that there was truly room for company. It was maybe a meter wide in any direction. And nowhere to land.
And nothing happening. Did I need to activate it somehow? All the others I’d used started when the person entered, and the door closed and locked. I opened my mouth to try a command when whole room finally began to hum. Hurriedly, I snapped my mouth shut again. Right before the first spray started. I closed my eyes and sniffed gingerly. Unscented cleanser. Good.
Once I was covered, the walls lit. Lights hit me from every angle for a moment, and then, the final spray started. I held my breath as the new spray hit the remnants of the old and disintegrated into clouds of gas, quickly sucked out the ceiling as fresh air was pumped from below. The air exchange was slow enough I had to breathe before it was done and immediately gagged. They could say it was scentless and tasteless all they wanted. I could still smell and taste something.
The exchange finished, and the hum ceased. Knowing the air exchange would have my hair standing straight up, I finger combed it as best I could. Then, clean and dry, I moved to the door, which opened automatically. Mor was still perched next to it.
“Clean? Good. Come.”
With that, he flew off down the corridor.
“Wait!” I trotted after him and barely managed to keep him in sight. I lengthened my strides. “Light One, where are we going?” We were off my map, which meant we weren’t in the common areas anymore.
He didn’t answer but swooped through a doorway, leaving me with little choice but to follow. I got two steps into what appeared to be an officer’s bunk – larger and on a different level – when the door closed, and I felt a presence behind me. I spun around just as Gri stepped in between me and the door. I shifted my gaze from him to Mor, who had landed on a desk not far ahead of me. He was giving me that piercing stare again.
“What’s this about, Light One?” I asked, trying to keep the accusation out of my voice. Considering how they’d deliberately boxed me in, it wasn’t easy.
“A casssual chat, Deathwalker,” Gri answered.
I ignored him and focused on Mor.
“I am officer in charge of security on ship.” He said finally. He still hadn’t blinked. “Job is to know why it is Captain Keh thinks you could be danger to Nat.”
“Wha-?” I blurted the word along with an astonished sound that made it essentially a noise, but the meaning was perfectly clear.
“The ssship transsslator ssaysss that Captain Keh warned you not to hurt our captain.” His voice was more sibilant than usual, and his eyes were slitted with anger. “What did ssshe mean?”
Keh said…?
I completely blanked for a moment and ran the entire conversation through in my head. Finally, it clicked.
“That’s not accurate.” I blurted without thinking. “She said to be sure you are all safe with me.”
“Essspecially Nat.” Gri tapped the wall, and a screen lit with an exact translation. So the translation wasn’t the problem. Their interpretation was.
“And you took that as a warning not to hurt your captain,” I sighed. “That was not the intent.”
“Whhat elssse could it mean?” Gri hissed and took a threatening step toward me.
“Gri.” Mor hadn’t shouted, but Gri stopped immediately. “What was intent?”
The.
“Keh is my cousin, and cousins… goad each other. She was doing that, likely because she didn’t realize any of you could understand her.” It was true. It simply wasn’t the whole truth.
Mor’s stare didn’t waver, and an awful thought occurred to me. What if they already knew the whole truth? What if this was a test to see what I would tell them?
“The warning about Na- the Captain was Keh’s way of warning me that the captain and I…” Ugh. How could I put this? “That… our personalities were likely to clash and that I should try not to lose my temper.”
Mor didn’t show much reaction, but his stare seemed less piercing. Or that might’ve been wishful thinking. Then again, Gri’s expression showed suspicion, but he was no longer wound up like he was ready to take me out. Maybe because someone clashing with their captain was eminently believable.
“And what would happen to Nat if you lost temper?” Mor asked slowly.
Shit. I stared back and debated. No. They distrusted deathwalkers too much already.
“That would depend on Captain Nat.”
Gri hissed. Literally hissed at me.
“He meant what COULD you do to harm the captain.”
Right. Tell us all your defenses for our protection. I ignored Gri and turned back to Mor.
“I will answer on 1 condition, Light One,” I said finally. “If you can honestly swear that no other crew member is capable of harming the captain if guided by anger.”
Mor blinked.
“I cannot.”
“Then, there is no need for me to answer.”
“Of coursssse there isss-”
“Gri,” Mor shook his head. “He is right. But they are crew. You are stranger.”
“That is true, Light One, but surely not the first stranger the ship has transported. And surely all strangers are assumed to be dangerous unless proven otherwise.”
I couldn’t imagine that they cornered every strange passenger and intimidated or beat secrets out of them. What made me so special? That I was a deathwalker?
The silence continued though Mor and Gri looked at each other so long and intently that I could swear they were locked in a silent argument. Did the Teg have fartalking? But if Mor was a fartalker, why not look for answers in my head? Unless being a deathwalker interfered somehow.
I’d never heard of anything like that. But it might explain a lot.
“Thank you for time, Deathwalker.” Mor broke the silence briskly. “Gri will show you back to public space.”
Oh goody.
I formed a sign of respect to the Light One and followed Gri into the corridor.
Gri was more than happy to abandon me at the fitness room – that was my impression, anyway. I was certainly perfectly happy to be rid of him. I could do without being hissed at or talked in circles, thanks.
I headed back to my bunk to change into shipwear. Being clean and being appropriately dressed were two very different things. Plus, I could use another break. I actually pondered heading back to the exercise area and starting my forms over again, but that would leave me horribly sore tomorrow.
The tingling started around R36. Well, that’s what I figured later. I actually didn’t notice until around R42 when it was strong enough to knock my circling thoughts aside. I stopped reflexively and stared at the wall of doors. I took a slow step forward, then another. On my third, I paused, remembering, and glanced around the corridor. Empty.
Then, I resumed my slow progression.
I passed R48 and took 5 more ponderous steps. Definitely a peak at R48. I leaned against the opposite wall and considered the door. I could try to open it, but if anyone with a brain was in there, it was locked. I could possibly scan it. I glanced at my left hand. That would be fine as long as the corridor stayed empty for the moment it would take to complete the scan. I cocked my head to the side and tried to consider it from all angles.
Could my scan set off the ship’s monitor? I honestly didn’t know. My only other options were to ignore it or ask the crew. And those options were impossible and unlikely to end well, respectively.
Hmming to myself, I started toward my bunk again.
There was another option. I paused at my door and glanced down the corridor. No. Deathwalking an unknown being without permission was out of the question.
I entered my bunk and slapped open my palmcomp.
“Display potential results for scanning a room aboard a privately-owned passenger ship.”
There was a long moment as the data ran and so did the corresponding symbol – a running squirler inside a spinning circle, which I think some historian must have picked. Then, the results started filling the light screen.
Aluminum detected.
Aluminum and Americium detected.
Aluminum, Americium, and Antimony detected.
Oh, great. That category alone would go one for hours.
“Remove all categories besides Interactive.”
Another squirler run. Then, the list began again. This time, it was potential races and their possible responses based on cultural norms. Normally, an interesting read but not what I was looking for.
“Remove race-based interactions.”
Hello, squirler.
The list appeared again and finally looked like what I wanted. There was no sign of an interaction with the ship’s monitor. I frowned and shook my head.
“Display list of actions that would trigger a ship’s monitor.”
The squirler returns. That sounded like a movie. One I would not watch.
Finally, yet another list appeared. This one was long but held more or less what I expected – not including private scans. So there was a good chance it wouldn’t be noticed.
Still pondering possibilities, I changed into fresh shipwear and sat on the unichair on the wall opposite the bed. As it shifted slightly to fit my body and position, I tried to picture what might be in that room and what the consequences for my discovering it might be. It couldn’t be as simple as a dead person. The feeling wouldn’t have stopped and started.
Could it be one of the crew? Sneaking extra space for some reason? That didn’t explain the feeling of death. Or did it?
I pulled out the crew list and began going through the races listed. Of course, I got distracted. But the Demostrakinos were fascinating. The stones and metal that I’d seen embedded inside Kith were found objects that truly were used like bones and apparently could be changed if the Demost required a different shape. The strength needed for his flesh to hold and direct those bones as he wanted to was mind-boggling.
Besides their unusual physical form, they were best known for their almost religious appreciation of food.
Wars? My heart sank to my stomach. I had a sneaking suspicion that I’d come a lot closer to death yesterday than I’d realized. I quickly looked for other warnings or the Demostrian culture, but everything I found revolved around food or stealing their “bones.” Which I couldn’t even imagine trying to do.
In any case, there were no death rituals that stood out as an explanation. I supposed Kith could have used actual bones for his structure (it would explain the shape of his face), but I’d stood or sat next to him for a long time without having any feeling of death. So that seemed unlikely.
I scanned through the other races listed, but there were only Caldlings, Teg, and Sanubacai, which I was already somewhat familiar with. I couldn’t see it being a Caldling. They gave off a feeling of death but not strongly enough to feel from that distance, and they didn’t store their dead for any length of time. I searched Teg and Sanubacai death rituals and eating habits (dead creatures could “speak” as easily as people had they the language), but I found nothing to explain to sense of death from that room.