Being of the Field (19 page)

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Authors: Traci Harding

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

BOOK: Being of the Field
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CHAPTER 11
THE INVITATION

Once all the technicians, divers, pilots, scientists, caterers, office, medical and cleaning staff were assembled in the room the head count was fifty-one.

Lucian began his address with an expression of his deepest sympathy for the majority of crew on board who had lost family and were now homeless—as the captain had endured the same losses, no one doubted that his sentiments were heartfelt. Lucian then moved on to address more practical concerns.

‘I have just had a lengthy dialogue with a representative of the USS, who assured me that all the refugees from Maladaan will be awarded citizenship on the planet of their choice and compensated for their losses, in order to start over—’

‘Whoo-hoo,’ cheered a couple of the technicians. ‘Phemoria, here we come!’

‘However,’ Lucian spoke up over their din, ‘Phemoria will only be accepting applications from female refugees—’

‘Aw, not fair—’ objected the male crew.

‘Sermetica will be more than happy to give any male refugees citizenship,’ Lucian added, knowing it would not help matters.

‘Sermetica is a bloody
wasteland
run by up-themselves bastards!’ Raggus bantered back, and Ayliscia applauded his appraisal.

Sermetica was where all the males of Phemoria had fled after being booted off the planet by the female population. The Phemorians had been mining the mineral-rich desert planet, in the adjoining system to theirs, for hundreds of years prior to the uprising. As Sermetica had
hosted a primarily male workforce at the time of the uprising, it had been the logical retreat position for the male population. Since that time Sermetica had been ruled with complete male autonomy, and had become the mining capital of the galaxy—far richer and more powerful than the now female-ruled planet they had fled long ago.

‘I’ll be heading for Frujia,’ Raggus decided, and a large majority of the crew nodded to agree that the tropical planet was where they would choose to base themselves. ‘Better weed there, anyhow,’ the tech concluded and his associates all seemed to agree.

‘In that case,’ Lucian surmised, ‘what I have to tell you is a fortunate coincidence. We have been summoned to Frujia for the inquest and memorial service for our home planet.’

Many in the room gasped in unison, having never been to the tropical paradise. If you were not born on Frujia, it was very expensive to get a visa to even visit there—let alone the cost of becoming a citizen.

‘We are all to be guests of the USS for the duration of our stay,’ Lucian finished loudly while much excited chatter erupted.

‘What is to become of AMIE?’ Ringbalin silenced the commotion with his question.

‘That is to be decided at the inquest,’ Lucian advised in a far more reserved manner. Clearly, he was worried that the project would be terminated. ‘That’s all I know.’ He brought the meeting to a close. ‘We should be docking in Kotan-Bathaar…’ Lucian looked at Leal to fill in the information.

‘Tomorrow evening,’ he announced in a grandiose manner that inspired another eruption of chatter from the beleaguered crew.

Kotan-Bathaar was acclaimed as Frujia’s pleasure capital, and as the majority of AMIE’s staff were single, they could see that this turn of events was a brilliant opportunity to gain citizenship on the paradise planet.

‘Sounds almost too good to be true,’ Taren said to Kassa as they watched their elated colleagues.

‘Could we be lucky enough that all in the MSS were on our planet at the time it disappeared?’ Kassa bantered back.

The notion made Taren smile a moment. ‘I think not.’

Across the room Zeven was waving to get Taren’s attention and once he secured it he made his way over.

‘I meant to tell you that he’s been waiting around to speak with you ever since he got back from the mission,’ Kassa warned Taren, who mentally prepared herself for the impending conversation.

Taren was in two minds about speaking with Zeven alone, and not just because she’d ended up in surgery the last time they’d met. There were many things she wanted to discuss with him, but there were also topics that she dreaded breaching—Lucian being her primary concern, as he’d been the trigger for their last run-in.

‘Taren, I have been wanting to apologise—’ Zeven began, until Kassa came to stand between them.

‘I am not sure if you are suitably trained, nor my patient suitably rested, for you to have this discussion,’ she cautioned him, having kept Zeven away from Taren for good reason.

‘I
really
need to speak with her,’ Zeven appealed calmly.

‘Kassa, I’m fine.’ Taren stood and moved her aside to address Zeven. ‘You don’t need to apologise—’

‘Yes, I do,’ Zeven stressed. ‘Can we please speak alone for a minute?’

Kassa was alarmed. ‘I don’t think—’

‘Sure,’ Taren agreed and with a wave to Kassa, she led him out the cafeteria door.

Lucian noted Taren and Zeven’s departure from the meeting, as did Rory, and both struggled to supress their discontent.

Inside the closed office Taren sat down to hear Zeven out, although, now that he had the floor, he was pacing and not saying much. ‘Shit, I’ve been waiting so long to speak with you and there is so much I want to say, I don’t know where to start.’

‘Well, skip the apology for this,’ Taren pointed to the sticking plaster on her forehead. ‘I know it wasn’t your fault.’

‘See. I should have listened to you.’ He pointed out that an apology really was in order. ‘You were trying to warn me, but—’

Taren shook her head. ‘I don’t blame you for being mad at me, Zeven. I wasn’t being entirely straight with you.’

Zeven stopped his pacing and looked to Taren. ‘How do you mean?’

‘I’ve had a crush on Lucian for years.’ She felt her cheeks flush as she admitted it and, as much as she didn’t want to see Zeven’s expression right now, Taren raised her eyes to his. ‘I do have a thing for the captain,’ she stated, and shrugged.

Zeven was dumbstruck for a second, bewildered and finally a little amused. ‘Does
he
know how you feel?’

‘I suspect he does,’ she said, pleased that the pilot was taking it so well. ‘He’s invited me to dinner.’

Zeven nodded, keeping his feelings calm—the last thing he wanted was a repeat of their last meeting. He let go of the urge to be angry, and as he reached into the depths of his heart in order to voice his true feelings, tears began to build. ‘After what you did for me during that last mission, I will regard you as a friend for life, Taren Lennox.’ A tear escaped his eye and he wiped both eyes immediately. ‘So, one friend to another, I wish you well.’

‘Oh, Zeven.’ Taren was so touched she had to hug him and he didn’t object. ‘A friend for life is something I could really use…but I didn’t do anything during your mission besides give you the will to accomplish your objective yourself.’

Zeven pulled away from her shaking his head. ‘One of the primary things we know about black holes is that nothing escapes the grasp of one,
nothing
! I was at that event horizon from which there is no return, but something,
you
, pulled me back.’

‘No,’ Taren insisted. ‘Quanta respond to the most influential force in their environment—’

‘Well, somehow or other, you were that force,’ Zeven insisted right back.

‘That is most unlikely, as that would be like bi-location psychokinesis or
quantum teleportation…
feats that have only ever been posited in theory. You are the PK ace. Is it not more likely that you—’

‘Nope,’ he shook his head. ‘I tried and failed…but then I got an extra boost of influence when you started talking sweet to me.’

Taren bit her lip, a little embarrassed now. ‘Well…when I was speaking with you, I was visualising your deliverance—’

‘Whatever you did, you should work on developing it, because it
really works
.’

Taren smiled at his total sincerity. ‘Starman, I still think you must have—’

‘I know, but I doubt very much that I have more influence than a
black hole
in
any
environment, and as for controlling this—what did you call it…PK?’ Zeven liked that, it sounded less threatening. ‘As for controlling my PK, I’m completely shit at it.’

Taren laughed at his agonised expression. ‘It’s just like flying a spacecraft, I expect. You improve as you train.’

‘Ringbalin was going to start teaching me how to meditate, but now it looks as if that might be cut short! What am I to do if the project is cancelled and they let me loose on an unsuspecting public like this?’

‘Calm down, Starman, you’ll scare yourself,’ Taren said, making light of his performance.

‘No, seriously, I do scare myself,’ he said, distracted. ‘Look at what I did to you.’

‘If worst comes to worst, and it won’t, then I shall train you myself,’ Taren assured him, briskly rubbing his arm to snap him out of his low.

‘How do you know the project won’t be terminated…a premonition?’

Taren shook her head, and took a seat at her desk. ‘I’m just optimistic.’

‘Yeah, but you’re lovestruck,’ Zeven joked as he slumped into a seat beside her, ‘so your optimism is bound to be exaggerated.’

‘So is your pessimism,’ Taren chided him. ‘I’m sure you already know that confronting a fear head-on is the only way to demolish it. I know that mastering PK might seem daunting, but with a bit of training, you will surprise yourself.
Truly
.’

Zeven was encouraged and glad to have cleared the air between them. ‘What have I got to lose, eh?’

‘Nothing you’ll ever miss, that’s for sure.’ She grinned and nudged his shoulder.

He figured he should get out of her hair and stood. ‘I don’t know about that…’ He backed to the door, gazing at her mournfully for a second. ‘I guess I’ll be seeing you.’

‘You will,’ she assured him.

As Zeven closed the door, Taren’s heart went out to him. She
greatly regretted that he’d been hurt, but was glad to know that their friendship would endure.

As Zeven made his way through Module C, he couldn’t decide how he felt. He was infinitely glad to have secured Taren’s friendship and future guidance, but the thought of seeing her romanced by the captain made him feel rather down.

‘I thought you’d be back,’ Ringbalin commented from the seedling room, as he spied the pilot wandering aimlessly through his greenhouse.

Zeven came to lean in the doorway and watched the botanist plant seeds for a bit. ‘Unrequited love sucks,’ he said, voicing what was on his mind.

Ringbalin was thankful to be forewarned of Zeven’s bad mood. ‘Yes, it does,’ he agreed.

‘What would you know about unrequited love?’ Zeven scoffed.

‘I was abandoned by my parents when I was one year old,’ he commented back to Zeven, no remorse or hatred in his voice, just a simple answer.

‘Whoa.’ Zeven was more surprised by how Ringbalin wore the fact, than by the fact itself. ‘You sound so cool with that.’

Ringbalin smiled. ‘I am sure they had their reasons, and I am happy with how things turned out for me,’ he shrugged, brushing the dirt from his hands.

‘You must be pretty concerned about the future of the project. You have more to lose than anyone,’ Zeven suddenly realised. ‘But I guess someone like you could have a ball on Frujia.’

‘Oh, I’m not disembarking at Frujia,’ Ringbalin informed Zeven. ‘The captain has given me permission to remain on board AMIE and tend to Module C.’

Zeven couldn’t understand anyone throwing away such a rare opportunity, until he thought about it a second. ‘And would Dr Portus be remaining on board also?’

Ringbalin cracked a smile at being caught out and Zeven was even more bemused.

‘I don’t get you.’ Zeven was so frustrated he had to say something. ‘If you dig her and she digs you, then why do you tease her so?’

Ringbalin was taken aback by Zeven’s ever-more-candid questions, but clearly the pilot was torturing himself, so Ringbalin put him out of his misery. ‘Two reasons,’ he said finally. ‘Firstly, Phemorian women don’t like being manhandled. They like to be the dominant predator.’

Zeven was intrigued. ‘And second?’

Ringbalin went to open his mouth, and then decided against it. ‘No offence, Gudrun, but I don’t know you well enough.’

‘What do you mean?’ Zeven objected. ‘You know my deepest, darkest secret! So where is your trust, Malachi?’

‘Well, considering my past, I do have a few trust issues,’ Ringbalin replied, justifying his tight-lipped stance.

‘Aw, come on,’ Zeven pressed, not wanting to let the other man off the hook. ‘We’re friends, aren’t we?’ Ringbalin wasn’t convinced about that, so Zeven thought up a better reason. ‘Well…I did just save you and your greenhouse from a very large black hole—’

‘All right!’ Ringbalin couldn’t deny he owed the pilot, but it was a dangerous risk he took confiding in Zeven, or anyone. ‘The only reason I am telling you is because you have a secret that is equally great.’

Zeven’s eyes opened wide in anticipation.

‘I need your word you will never tell anyone,’ Ringbalin demanded.

Zeven held a hand to his heart. ‘I swear on my life.’

Ringbalin motioned him to follow to another bench where there was a potted plant that was a little droopy. ‘Watch,’ instructed Ringbalin and as he reached out and made contact with the sickly plant it became restored to full health in moments.

‘You’re a healer.’

‘It would appear so, I know, but no.’ Ringbalin shook his head. ‘I have the ability to manipulate the emotional frequency of living matter and as a by-product of that I can do hands-on healing.’

With this knowledge, Zeven suddenly solved a puzzle. ‘That’s why you won’t touch Dr Portus, because you don’t want to influence her emotions.’

‘Exactly. And it probably explains why my parents did what they did, as being controlled by a one-year-old was probably a little scary,’ Ringbalin observed.

‘And no one else knows?’ Zeven queried, amazed to learn that some of those with the Powers had managed to slip under the radar of the PMD.

‘Very few people I came into contact with ever worked it out. Such a gift as I have is easier to hide than most,’ Ringbalin admitted. ‘Now that you know the truth about me, perhaps you’ll get off my case about Dr Portus.’

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