Among The Stars (Heinlein's Finches Book 2) Page 4

  A voice right behind me makes me jump. “When they break down? Not if?” Either our chatting or the com woke Tom up. He sounds less than half awake, but fully unimpressed.

  “It happens. A lot. Nothing serious. They’re just old ships, is all, and Jameson isn’t a big spender. It’s largely hope and cable ties that keep us going.”

  “What about us? What if we break down? You said we get left behind.”

  “We don’t break down. We’re the best ship in the convoy. If you don’t care about speed.”

  That makes no sense to me. “Wouldn’t the boss have the best ship?”

  “He thinks he does, but he cares about speed. I just want to get there. Comfortably, if at all possible, but safely first and foremost. And this ship carries the most valuable cargo. Trained animals are worth more than their weight in credits. So we get the sturdiest, safest, comfiest vessel in the convoy, and I make damn sure that she gets looked after. We always get there last, but that’s what we want, anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “Pointless us getting there until the portabubble is up. If there’s a hitch and it doesn’t go up, we’re better off orbiting. You ask a lot of questions.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s cool. You actually listen to the answers. Some questions are hard to answer, is all. Truthfully, anyway.” She gives us a hard look. “People are cheap to replace. Everywhere we go, there’s someone desperate, clueless, or romantic enough to fancy a life among the stars. In space and in showbiz; it doesn’t get starrier than that. Animals, on the other hand, are hard to find and expensive to replace. Trained animals infinitely more so. The way Jameson’s head works, that makes them more valuable than people. You need to remember that. It will affect your life.”

  Tom looks even more pissed off. “Your Jameson sounds like a total asshole.”

  “He is. He’s also the owner of all of this. He controls everything. All decisions sit with him. If you think that the Fed has all the power anyone could want or yield, then you’re in for a nasty surprise. But that’s how things are around here. The Fed is regulated, kinda. Jameson isn’t. You can deal with it or you can quit.”

  Tom’s expression is getting ugly. He doesn’t deal well with anything resembling a threat. I don’t want a situation, so I wade in. “So we only get on-planet when the portabubble is built?”

  “Yeah. Sometimes that means orbiting for a bit. We want to make the trip as smooth as possible for the animals. Changes in gravity don’t do them any good.”

  “How comes only some of the animals got sedated and strapped in?”

  “It’s a combination of things. Animals can get used to gravity changes, like people do. Like Laika here.” The dog has been lying over Alya’s feet, but it looks up when it hears its name. I didn’t know dogs could be that clever. “She’s an unusually good girl, mind you.” At these words, the dog starts wagging its tail. If I wasn’t seeing it, I wouldn’t believe it. It’s like it can speak English. “But some species just aren’t built to take that kind of strain. Horses can break a leg quite easily, and they’re hard to mend. And expensive.”

  “So it’s all about the credit,” Tom snaps.

  Alya scowls at him. “This is a business, you know. That’s how we keep going, by making more than we spend. But no, it’s about the cost-benefit analysis. We try to minimize the costs, which include risks of injury to the animals, and maximize the benefits. Anyway. It’s about time they start waking up, godsdamn them.” She yawns. “I could have done with more sleep. And coffee.”

  “Someone say coffee?” Nicky’s head pokes thorough the cargo bay door.

  Alya sighs and rolls her eyes. “Ok. You want food too?”

  “Please.”

  “We have time?”

  “If you make coffee, I make time.”

  “Alright then.” She looks at us. “I don’t suppose you two have brought along any supplies, have you?”

  Shit. I never thought about that. Tom looks as horrified as I feel.

  Alya shrugs. “Small matter. We’re only on ship four days. It will be a formative experience for you, I’m sure.”

  Nicky shakes his head. “Why you so mean to these kids? You don’t listen to her. We have food.”

  “We have shit food.” She yawns again. “You’ll regret it. Go do your thing. I’ll bring you your food through. Shoo!”

  Tom looks like he’s about to snap, so I push him along and we follow Nicky into the cargo bay. He lectures us on the way there.

  “Now you must be careful. Animals are sleepy, confused. They get scared, they can hurt you, hurt themselves. You don’t know, you don’t touch. Always move slow. Unless is danger, then you move quick. Ok?”

  Tom and I nod. I have no clue what’s going on, but saying that doesn’t seem like a good idea.

  “When animals wake up, we release harness. But not too quick. Ok?”

  We nod again.

  “Then we give food, water. And we clean shit. Food in one end, shit out the other. Easy.”

  We nod.

  We must not look that convincing, because he sighs. “I promise, is easy. Not today. Today is hard. But you learn.”

  “Or not. Come get your damn food before I drop it.” Alya walks in carrying a tray. “I made you guys coffee. If you don’t drink it, we will. I am fucking tired.”

  “Bad words! With children!”

  “Bad mood. You shown the kids around the place yet?”

  “Not yet. You go? Horses wake up soon, I think.”

  “Ok. Follow me, gentlemen. This is not part of the regular tour.” She walks down to the end of the cargo bay, opposite her ATR. “See this hatch? That’s the shit chute. It’s for all the waste biomass – nothing else. You pick up your buckets, you tip them down the hatch, press this button, hatch seals, bottom hatch opens, shit goes down the chute. When the hatch opens again, you don’t want to be too close to it. There’s always some waste gas coming out, and it won’t do you any good. No smoking or flames or anything that causes sparks near the hatch, just in case. Ok?”

  “Just in case of what?” I ask.

  “In case there’s a gas leakage.”

  I look at her blankly.

  “Shit decomposes.”

  “Dewhat?”

  “Decomposes. Rots. And as it rots, it throws out gases. Some of them are flammable. Some will mess up your breathing. Both can kill you. We have a ventilation system, but nothing’s ever totally safe. So you must be careful around this chute. Ok?”

  “Ok.”

  “Why do we drag a load of shit with us? Can’t we space it?” asks Tom.

  “Biomass is very valuable on some planets. We cart it around until we find somewhere to sell it. Anyway, that’s where waste goes. Food is stored over there,” she points at some crates piled at the opposite end of the cargo bay. “There’s a chart hanging up with details of who gets what, but until you know what you’re doing do what Kolya tells you. He’s the brains of the joint. And don’t go near any of the animals while they’re eating.”

  “Why?”

  “They could decide that you’re trying to steal their meals and attack you. Seriously. Anyway, off you go.”

  The next half hour is controlled chaos. The sedated animals start to come round. Timing the release of the harnesses is quite tricky – too soon and the animals could fall down, too late and they could end up struggling against their restraints. I’m glad when it’s over. Then the cleaning and feeding starts.

  “This is the job,” Nicky smiles at us. “Food in, shit out.”

  It sounds easy in theory, but we have no idea what we’re doing. I feel overwhelmed and Tom gets cranky. It only takes a couple of hours to get it all done, but by the end I’m shattered, again.

  Nicky catches me rubbing my eyes. “Ok. You do good. Now bedtime.”

  Alya looks at a screen. “It’s 4am. We all get a four-hour snooze. Then we start all over again. Isn’t this fun?” And she stomps off to her ATR without a goodbye.


  Nicky herds us towards the bunks. He doesn’t have to push us very hard. We’re both dead on our feet. I fall asleep before my head touches the pillow.

  Four hours of sleep do very little to make me feel rested. If anything, when I wake up I’m woozier than when I went to bed. Thankfully, following orders, shoveling shit, and carrying food and water don’t take much thinking.

  Alya’s nowhere in sight. When I ask Nicky about her, he nods towards the bridge. “She does her work. She is a good girl, or silly. Never lazy.”

  Once the animals are fed and watered, we take them out for a spell in the small corral along the side of the cargo bay. “Twice a day they get here for play. Is not so good. Some play together, some can’t. Too much fighting.”

  While they’re out playing, we clean their cages out. “The horses stay out when we have break. They need room. Not so good for them here.”

  “Not so good for us here, either,” mutters Tom.

  “Are you kidding me? We’re on a fucking spaceship,” I mutter back.

  He sighs. “Yeah. You’re right.”

  “The work is not that hard, really. At least, it isn’t compared to the packing and moving.”

  “Yeah. I’m still recovering from that. I wonder how often that comes up.”

  I shrug. “Back home they moved about once a week. I guess we’ll find out. I wonder where we’re going next.”

  “You could ask Nicky.”

  “Yeah, but the answer won’t mean anything to me. Do you know your planets?”

  He shakes his head. “Nah. But I’m still going to ask later. A name’s better than nothing.”

  Alya emerges from the bridge, looking mightily pissed off.

  “How’s it going back here?” she asks Kolya.

  “Ok. Boys are not bad. Maybe we don’t space them.”

  “Heh. That’s one problem sorted, at least.”

  “What is problem now?”

  “Same shit. The dancers quit. Again. They never made their ship. What else?” She rolls her eyes. “Takings are down, costs are up, everything is terrible, blah blah.”

  Nicky shrugs. “So everything is normal, yes?”

  “Everything is a fucking headache. Where am I going to find four girls on fucking Anteia?”

  “You always find them.”

  “I do.” She sighs. “This time though, I’m not so sure. Oh well, we’ll work something out. Get dancing boys, maybe.”

  Nicky chortles at that. “Jameson kills you.”

  “Well, at least he wouldn’t try to screw them, so they might stay on long enough for me to learn their names. You guys ready for food? I have no idea what time it is. I need coffee. And a drink. And a walk. And for Jameson to get off the com. But I’ll settle for coffee and food.”

  “We all good here. You go get food ready.”

  “What am I, your bitch?” She wheels around and stomps off.

  I can’t stop gasping at her language. Nicky thumps me on the shoulder. “She is ok. She likes to complain. Also she cannot cook. But she makes good coffee.”

  We finish up what we’re doing, clean up a bit, and join her in what passes for a kitchen. There’s a tiny table that is still way too big for the room. We just manage to squeeze tightly enough so we can all fit.

  Alya drops our plates on the table. “Here you go. I’m a damn miracle worker, if I say so myself.”

  Nicky takes a bite of the food and frowns. “What you are is a thief! Eggs in here.”

  “Correct. Duck eggs. What Jameson doesn’t know won’t hurt me.”

  Tom looks puzzled. “That’s not how the saying goes, is it?”

  “The saying is silly. What he doesn’t know hurts him all the time. Everyone detests him, so they all try to screw him. But while he doesn’t know that I’m filching his eggs, I’m perfectly fine. And well-fed. He wouldn’t have the damn eggs if we weren’t here, anyway, because he’s not got the least idea how to keep birds. So if you look at the overall balance of things he’s not really losing anything.”

  “You still are a thief,” Nicky says sternly.

  “Absolutely. If you don’t want your share, Laika can help you out.”

  He glares at her. “You make hard deal.”

  “I do. Shut up and eat before it gets cold.”

  I follow her advice and I’m damn glad I do. Whatever it is that I’m eating is damn delicious. Tom seems to think the same, as we both clear out plates in record time, which is saying something.

  Alya seems pleased. “Finally, two good customers. You could learn a lot from them.”

  “They don’t eat my food yet,” scoffs Nicky.

  “This is not a competition.”

  “Now you are a liar and a thief.”

  She throws her hands in the air. “Guilty as charged. Does that mean you don’t want more coffee?”

  “Hard woman. Mean.”

  She smirks as she gets up off the table, then she gives us a hard stare. “Way it works around here, whoever does the cooking doesn’t clean up. And if you make a mess, you clean up after yourself.”

  Tom and I nod, and I get up to do the dishes while the guys go off to lounge around on the bridge. Here there’s not enough room to stretch without banging elbows.

  Alya smiles at me. “You’re well trained. I was expecting a fight.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I usually have to have one, I guess. A lot of the guys around here seem to believe that housework isn’t their concern.”

  “Huh. I didn’t know that.”

  “Did your dad help out at home?”

  That makes me freeze momentarily. I try to shake myself off quickly, but I must do a bad job of it because Alya’s eyes widen in response.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry.”

  “Not a problem. And no, my stepdad didn’t do anything around the house. I guess I learnt about it in juvie. There’s just work to do, you know? Everyone wants to pull kitchen duties. Beats scrubbing ‘freshers. And I can’t cook and I like to eat. This works for me.”

  “Great. Kolya is the better cook, though. I just mix powders together.”

  “Whatever you did, it was great.”

  “Your standards are low.”

  “Maybe. But it makes me happy.”

  She pokes me in the small of the back to make me squeeze out of the way while she walks out with the coffees on a tray. It doesn’t take long for me to finish up and join them. Tom’s already made himself at home. It’s a knack he has. You could hang him upside down out of a window and within ten minutes he’d be treating it like it’s the most normal, most comfortable place ever. I wish I could feel or look that relaxed – both would be great, but either would work for me.

  I like to watch Tom dealing with new people. I always learn something, or fail to. Most of the time he’s just trying to charm them, either to get in their pants or to make them think they could get into his. That’s just not my kind of thing and I don’t think it ever will be, so all I can do is watch, or pretend I’m not watching. When sex is not on the cards, though, he’s totally different. He’s just so good with people without having to think about it. He seems to always find the right things to say to make them relax and enjoy themselves. I don’t even know if he does it on purpose or it just happens around him. I keep trying to work it all out, but I guess that’s the difference between us: I have to think about it and work at it. For Tom it’s as natural as breathing.

  Sometimes I get jealous about it. I wish I could do that too. It might make my life easier, or at least more fun. But it’s not Tom’s fault that he’s got something I lack, and he does take a lot of pressure off me. I’m free to sit about while he’s entertaining people. It’s just as well he’s not as awkward as me, really.

  I’m having a lot of fun listening to their banter, but I’m still exhausted. Once I start yawning I just can’t stop.

  “Are we boring you?” asks Alya.

  “No, Sorry. Still tired, I guess.”

  “If you
take yourself off to bed now, you can get a good three hours in. I’m going for that. Getting too old for this shit.”

  “You are a baby,” laughs Nicky.

  She yawns. “I’m a tired, cranky baby, then. Wake me up at four, if you will. Time to reset my clock.” She gets up and walks into the cargo bay.

  I stagger up while I still can. “I’m turning in. I can’t keep my eyes open.”

  “I’ll come with,” nods Tom.”

  “Good children.” Nicky smiles at us. His face wears a smile very easily. “Very wise. Sleep on ship, work on planet. See things, too. Very fun.”

  “Where are we going to next?” I ask.

  “Anteia. Very nice. Alya says she doesn’t like, but she does. Very clean, very green.”

  “Green?”

  “Yes. Many plants. You will see. Sleep now. I come for you at four.”

  Now I’m confused. “Where do you sleep?”

  “On ship, with animals. I have bunk just for me. Very nice. And animals help me sleep. I don’t like ships. Not at all.” He shudders. “Go now, or you wake up sleepy. Then you make mistake and tigers eat you.”

  Tom laughs at this, but I’m not sure it’s a joke. I’m too tired to fret about it, though.

  As we strap ourselves into our bunks, Tom murmurs “I think you’re right. This could work out just fine for us, couldn’t it?”

  “Hope so. I’m really psyched we’re going to be on a new planet.”

  “I’m pretty psyched there’s going to be at least four girls when we get there.” He grins. “I don’t think I’d have much luck with Alya.”

  “Oh hell no. Would you even try?”

  “Were I ever drunk enough to go near her, no way I could get it up.”

  When Nicky wakes us up, I feel as if I’m pulling myself out of a deep well. My body feels oddly disconnected, oddly liquid. It takes me a while to work out what I’m feeling. At some point in my sleep all my tension left me. Now I feel both light and heavy, and oddly calm. The last few days have been stressful. The last few weeks haven’t been much better. Everything at juvie was as good as ever, except that I couldn’t forget that my time there was running out. And when Tom got released and I knew he could never come back, and I couldn’t be sure I’d ever see him again… Yeah, it’s been stressful. Now that everything seems to be working out fine, the sudden release of tension has sucked all the strength out of me. Sucked out my brains, too. I feel slow and hazy. I hope it passes. It’s weird and I don’t like it.