Page 9 of Experimental Voyage
“I have been training to leave Schwana Major from a fairly early age. I’ve been aware that I would encounter other species. For some, even the various subspecies ofhomo sapiensare problematic. While I haven’t had the courses for xenodiversity yet, it’s something I’ve considered for most of my life. What use am I as a researcher of biology if I run away from every species I encounter? Of course, I may need to go through remedial training. I really will die from petting something or someoneI shouldn’t if I’m not careful. In good news for you, I do not typically have any irresistible urges to pet otherhomo sapiens.”
Waldren sighed. “Please try to avoid petting people without their permission.”
Hooting a laugh, the Veloc went to one of the walls and pressed his hand to a square panel, revealing a storage closet. He pulled out a set of folded clothes. “Go so we might finish this today. Physical therapy will take up the rest of the day. I will make certain she is appropriately fed. Go bother one of our other clan mates.”
Waldren grunted but he whistled, which caught Palta’s attention. She flattened her ears and hissed at him.
I grinned and rewarded the feisty feline with another few strokes before saying, “Go along with Waldren, Palta. I’m sure physical therapy will be worse than boring. You can keep him in line for the duration.”
While I had no idea how much the cat could understand, she hissed again but hopped off the bed. With her tail lashing, she swiped a paw at the man, who stared down at her with a raised brow. He emerged unscathed, and Palta spat a few more curses before settling into her spot at his side.
“Her methodology bears fruit,” the Veloc observed. “Perhaps you should retire to your quarters and engage Palta with her toys and give her the petting she is obviously owed.”
Waldren retreated, and I fought my urge to laugh at his surly ways. “Why is he so grumpy?”
“He grew up as part of a failed colony, and by the time my clan found him and his sister, they were both a bit wild. They were the only survivors. Now he is surly, as he was raised to be a free spirit. You’ll find his attempts to hunt Veloc amusing, I’m sure. Don’t worry about his abrupt behavior. He means no harm. He simply sees no need for the niceties of humanoid societies. He would rather fly his ship, chase the stars, and only interactwith people he deems to be worth his time. His xenodiversity rating is rather low—the lowest allowed for frequent space travel, truth be told. But he is good at what he does, and if he decides he likes you, he is a worthy companion.” Leaning beyond the doorway leaving the room, the Veloc called out, “You probably taste as bad as you stink!”
Waldren responded with a snort, which drew hooted laughter from the oversized predator.
“Dare I ask?” I grabbed the folded clothes, which were in a similar style to the grays and greens the staff of the mercy ship wore but a pale tan color. Without bothering to waste the time on asking the Veloc to leave, I went to work getting dressed, wincing at the stiffness in my joints. “I’m going to need to walk this off.”
“After you eat so you are properly fueled,” the Veloc replied, keeping an eye on me as I finished pulling the garments into place. “After you adapt to wearing basic space attire, we’ll get you fitted for a proper suit. The color choices will not be ideal, but you will have some choices. Black, dark blue, a few greens, and so on. As your teachers and family indicated you become troublesome should you be permitted to become bored, we’ll be training you for doing salvage in addition to space walks.”
“Salvage?” I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“When opportunity allows, we serve as a rescue ship. When it does not allow, we fund our expeditions salvaging from derelicts. We recover ship parts, shiftgems, and so on. It will give you something productive to do, and after our voyage, you will have an additional career path open to you.” The Veloc’s crest rose. “If you wish to irritate my featherless kin, you will express interest in learning how to fly. This ship is his baby—a present from our clan for daring to steal away his sister, his only family. He does not yet realize or accept he is part of our clan. Don’t fret overly much about his general attitude. It is no fault of his, nor is it faultof yours. He came to the clan troubled, and that is the armor he wears to protect himself and his feline friend.”
I’d just assumed Waldren had been jealous I’d petted Palta. As it was no business of mine, and I needed to focus on what was important, I replied, “If he wants to be friends, he’ll be friendly. If he doesn’t wish to be friends, this is no problem of mine. I would rather focus on repaying my debt.”
“You will find that is simple enough for you to repay. Some humans can accept such a loss. Your spirit could not. We have seen it time and time again. And so, we were contacted. They identified your inability to cope.”
“I love music. I love birdsong. Most of the things I love require hearing,” I replied.
“Yes. And when such things are usually within the realm of science to cure, it would be even more damaging for you. If it had been your sight, you likely would have been able to accept the injury.”
“I wouldn’t have done well being blind.” I grimaced at the reality of my situation. “I do not wish to sound ungrateful.”
“You do not sound ungrateful. You are merely honest about yourself and your personality. Now, we will begin with a short walk to the galley, where you will sit while I make you a nourishing soup.” Herserael positioned himself so he could help me if needed. “Take your time with each step. You will be weak, and it is not abnormal for balance to be compromised after such an operation.”
“Was the link installed?” I asked, and mindful of his directions, I took care with walking. Within a few steps, I understood his concern. I’d lost a lot of muscle during the operation, complicated from the loss of fitness I’d endured following the crash. Physical therapy would keep me busy, and I’d work hard at it along with every other obstacle they tossed at me.
“Your link was successfully installed, and while you were under sedation, we tested your chips. Right now, we have it turned off, but you’ll begin your training soon. The chips were a gift from the owners of the ship that crashed on your world.”
The crash had been an accident and nothing more, but the company owning the ship had made efforts to make amends, funding a great deal of the operational expenses of the mercy ship of their own volition. Linker chips cost a small fortune—more than I would ever own in my entire life. “Oh. Please thank them for me. Did they also help cover the cost of the link?”
“They’re funding a great deal of the research on this voyage,” the Veloc admitted. “We were going to be the primary funders, as we could, but they suffered from a great deal of remorse.” Herserael patted his feathered chest with his hand. “I have some abilities as an empath, and I have some abilities to sense the truth. They were earnest in their remorse. You have been gifted with the best link money can buy and a full set of chips so you can learn without being overcome from too many inputs at once. But first, it is time to feed you—and then the voyage begins in earnest.”
Herserael’s soup contained tentacles.
In good news, after a few minutes, the tentacles no longer moved, which greatly increased my ability to choke them down. The broth itself appealed, but the idea I needed to battle my dinner baffled and alarmed me.
The Veloc hooted his laughter over my predicament, and he took notes on my reactions. “Your xenodiversity rating forsentients unlike yourself is high, but I see you may struggle with the culinary portions of the voyage.”
“Why are there tentacles?” I whispered, poking one of the clusters with my spoon. It remained still, although I couldn’t help but notice that they’d curled around a bright orange vegetable. While we had orange vegetables on Schwana Major, none of them were covered in lumps and lengthy protrusions. “Some of these tentacles had it out for the orange things in their final moments.” Setting aside the spoon, I picked up a knife and began the process of freeing the tentacles from the part of the meal I might actually like. “Whatarethese things?”
Herserael hooted his laughter, and his crest rose. “This is an exposure experiment. This dish was found in one of the old Earth records on a generational ship. The ship also had stocked the ingredients necessary to create it, and we maintain the stock on Veloci Minor. The orange things are carrots, a root vegetable highly favored byhomo sapiensliving on Earth. The tentacles are from a marine creature, although we lab grow the tentacles rather than the entire animal. It’s part of medical regenerative experiments and DNA cloning work. The movement is from general stimuli to the nerves still within the tentacles. We are not precisely sure how this works as there is no centralized nervous system.”
“There’s no brain,” I deciphered, giving the tentacles another poke. “Will I starve to death if I don’t manage to eat this?”
