Page 4 of Experimental Voyage
I understood, then, why xenodiversity mattered.
The mercy ship,namedDauntlessfor the captain’s tendency to be willing to travel to any sector of explored or unexplored space, resembled a pearl drifting in the planet’s orbit. Unlike most large spacefaring vessels,Dauntlesswould forever remain in space until her decommissioning.
Officially, her name was a string of numbers and letters, but nobody used those.
Dauntlessdeserved better.
Those she served rejected the lifeless numbers and letters, embracing her casual name with the love and respect owed to her. I counted as one of those, and I’d held the record for the fastest a patient had demanded to know her name rather than her designation.
In the long tradition of mercy ships, the day her tour of duty ended, she would face one of two fates: she would be decked out with instruments and either propelled into some dying star or into a black hole. In either case, she would go out as she had come into the universe, in an act of service.
Every mercy ship sent off in some fashion offered new knowledge to the universe, immortalizing her in her final act of heroism.
Every time I sawDauntless, I hoped the ship made her way to some planet who wished for her to become a glorious museum, preserved for generations to come. The thought of such a vessel coming to a destructive end pained me.
Thus far, no mercy ship had enjoyed such a fate.
As the ferry approached, a giant door inDauntless’shull opened to reveal a landing bay within, made of sterile stainless steel. The pilot landed on the pad, and we waited for the doors to close, the landing bay to be pressurized, and oxygen to be flushed into the area. On our way out, the process would be reversed, although I questioned how the ship managed to suck air in and out of the bay.
I’d always assumed large ships came with myriads of various crystals capable of producing oxygen. I regretted not having focused much of my education on evolvulite. The common name of shiftgems intrigued me. What gave the strange stones their properties? How did the mineral impurities responsible for their various colors transform their abilities?
Were the different colors the reason they’d been dubbed shiftgems? Or could the crystal actually change its properties?
Outside of the very basics, I hadn’t paid much attention to the stones. With one embedded in my brain, I needed to learn. It would become my responsibility, assuming the color of the stone could be determined, to avoid situations where resonance might occur.
The last thing I needed was the crystal resonating while lodged within my brain.
Twenty minutes after we landed, Olivier came into the passenger area, gesturing for me to follow him. I unbuckled my belt, got to my feet, and carried my purse with me, wondering ifI’d be able to keep it if I did venture off on some experimental voyage.
I hoped so. I had the shiftgem I’d found inside, and I had no interest in parting ways with it.
On the landing pad, a man with dark hair, vivid blue eyes, and a scowl waited, and at his feet rested a small spotted cat with rings around its tail. At roughly twice the size of the domesticated cats exported from Earth to take over numerous planets in the universe, I suspected the beast was descended from a wild species. The animal’s brown and gray fur, with some white on the tail, chin, and underbelly, shone in the overhead lights. The man said something, and I only knew the pilot replied because he made a gesture towards me.
For the next few minutes, I dealt with waiting, wondering what they discussed and why. The cat eyed me with interest, and after a while, it sauntered my way, giving my shoes a sniff. To keep from startling the animal, I bent over instead of crouching, holding out my hand.
The cat breathed in my scent, decided I beat whatever conversation the men held, and demanded to be pet. As I would never refuse an opportunity to pet something I shouldn’t, I sat on the landing pad, ignored the chill of the space-exposed steel, and stroked the animal’s thick fur. A vibration beneath my fingers indicated the feline appreciated my attention.
As far as I could tell, the conversation ended, and Olivier wrote something on the board, which he showed me.
The man’s name was Waldren, and the cat’s name was Palta. If I consented to the experiment, passed the medical tests, and qualified for the link operation, Palta would be the source of my new genetics. I would maintain my status ashomo sapiens Schwana, something that would offer me certain protections—assuming I survived the operation and the subsequent voyage. According to the note, Waldren belonged to a Veloc clan, andthe experiment would involve close contact with the predatory species.
I understood, then, why xenodiversity mattered.
The Veloc tended to terrify those without special training. The species stood at least seven feet tall, boasted talons capable of punching through steel, and could—and did—eat anyone or anything stupid enough to irritate them. I tilted my head, considered Waldren, who eyed me with open suspicion, and wrote a reply inquiring on his species.
Olivier grinned and wrote a reply indicating the man was a variant ofhomo sapiens, and if I wanted to know more, I’d have to wait until after I conquered the operation so he could tell me himself.
When I had the clipboard back in my hands, I broached the next problem: the shiftgem I had found. I informed Olivier of my find at the crash site and inquired if I might keep the jewel.
Once he read my note, he nodded and jotted a note indicating that any shards or pieces of shiftgem material found at the site at this stage belonged to the finder and would be registered as mine.
I dug through my purse, found the stone, and held it out to him. He raised a brow, took it, and held it up to reflect it in the bay’s light. After a few moments, he dug out a magnifier from his pocket before resuming his examination. Once done, he gave me the gem back and wrote on the digital board, informing me he would register the stone, transfer ownership of it to me, and that it had likely been part of the ship’s medical systems before the crash.
I thanked him and returned the digital board before giving Palta another pat and a scratch before rising to my feet, placing my palms against my upper legs, and bowing deep to indicate my gratitude. I held the posture for the thirty or so seconds as was our way and straightened.
Waldren’s brows furrowed, and his lips moved. I wondered at many things, from the tone of his words, the sound of his voice, and his volume. All three things could reveal much of his character, if only I could hear him.
If only.
