When Chenille Is Not Enough

The stitch runner arrived on schedule. Marsel instructed Cecily, Scott and Edna to bring their luggage with them to the dining hall, and remain there after the meal until he returned. While they sipped the last of the coffee that had been replicated for them, the renegades joined them.

Salia trotted to Cecily’s chair and sat on the floor next to her. Rupon stretched and widened, turning himself into a solid plank of beigeness. He stood behind Cecily, between her and the door. Mercon and Dajdar positioned themselves behind Scott and Edna, one on either side.

Bozidar entered the dining hall from a far doorway. He passed the feeding stations at a shuffle. Each footstep on the slick cement-looking floor echoed like a rap on a ripe watermelon. He paused at one of the stations, stroking the burnished copper counter surrounding a set of six nutrition tubes. Two deep sighs escaped, accompanied by puffs of dense gray smoke from his ears. He shook his head, and walked at a steady if unenthusiastic gait to the table that had been placed in the hall for the humans.

“The captain informed Marsel that they are prepared to receive us now,” he said. “The replicator is programmed with your nutrition requirements, your robes are in your quarters, and the upgrade has been sent to the device we left Susan.”

“Great! When can I call Mom?” Cecily asked.

“I will consult with the captain,” Bozidar said. “She has expressed the desire to leave this quadrant as quickly as possible. I suspect she will prefer you make contact after we are under way.”

Scott picked up two suitcases. Dajdar took them both from his hands and followed Bozidar from the dining hall. Mercon motioned for Scott and Edna to leave as well, and kept on their heels like a Corgi. Salia lifted the remaining suitcase and balanced it on top of her bolt-body. Rupon helped Cecily from the chair and shepherded her to join the others.

They walked down the corridor as if they were a community parade. Crew members stepped aside to let them pass. Some bowed.

“I feel like I’m in the land of the tofu-people,” Cecily said. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to having them walk around with only a scarf on their shoulders.”

Edna nodded. “Who knew the mark of an advanced civilization is the end of fashion?”

“Not just fashion, Grandma,” Cecily said. “Clothes in general.” She shuddered.

“That might not be a valid assumption,” Scott said. “This could be a military ship. Think of the savings if they fought naked. No outlay for uniforms, fewer storage requirements, easier for medics to treat wounds - ”

Marsel marched around a corner and hailed them. “There you are. Hurry, the ship is waiting.”

“Good,” Edna said. “You just saved us from a lecture on military uniforms through the ages.”

Marsel bobbed up and down. “Yes, a fascinating subject.”

“Not really,” Bozidar muttered. He increased his pace. “Have they been waiting long?”

“No, but the captain is anxious to leave. Oh, how I envy you. The Cold Fire was only commissioned half a cycle ago. It still has that new ship smell.”

“You won’t be coming with us?” Cecily asked.

“No,” Marsel said. His eye stalks drooped briefly, then straightened to attention. “Forgive my . . . self-pity? Snapping Shellfish is a fine ship, and I am proud to be its captain.”

He waved his hand over a panel in the wall. The yellow triangle pulsed brightly, then changed to a vibrant pink. The door panels slid apart to reveal the hanger with Bozidar’s pod.

“The elders thought it best that you take our guests to Cold Fire in the same ship that brought them here,” Marsel said as he led them into the hanger.

“Of course they did,” Edna said. She glowered at the pod. “We’re going to be crowded.”

“The journey will take minutes,” Marsel said.

“We’ve been on buses in San Francisco that were packed tighter,” Cecily said. “We’ll be fine.” She reached out to Marsel, patting the top of his head. “I’ve enjoyed meeting you, Marsel.”

He bowed. “I hope to see you again once Snapping Shellfish returns. Perhaps I will be able to walk on your planet one day.”

“Perceived blessings may become curses,” Bozidar said, but in a voice so low that the noise of the crew around the pod competed with his words. He motioned the group toward the ship. “We should depart quickly.”

As they approached the pod, the four renegades separated from the group and started for the far side of the craft.

“Stop,” Bozidar said. “You will stay with us for this short trip.”

The eight climbed the steps to the open hatch. Bozidar entered first and took the seat in front of the console. Salia preceded Cecily and did not let her enter until she had walked the perimeter of the small space, touching panels and tugging on anchored shelves as she went. When Cecily sat on the bench, Salia and Rupon retracted their legs and made a low barricade in front of her.

Dajdar and Mercon also inspected the ship, then allowed Scott inside. Edna stood on the platform, back to the pod, watching the activity in the hanger. “How cool is this,” she whispered to herself.

***

When they arrived on Cold Fire they were escorted to a long, empty room. One wall was made of a clear material that showed empty space and pin-points of glittering stars. Edna and Cecily both pressed their noses against it like kids at a candy shop.

“We’re in space, Grandma, we’re in space!” Cecily’s glee was palpable in her voice, her stance, her eyes.

“We will be in space for the next three days,” Bozidar said. “You will have ample opportunity to experience it.”

A creature the color of wet sand on a cloudy day entered the room. A scarlet shawl, shot with gold threads and knotted on one end, draped around its shoulders. It moved in silence, its oval foot-discs gliding along the gleaming granite floor.

“Here is the captain,” Bozidar said. “And she is a taupe. This could be complicated.”

She stopped a little distance from the group. Bozidar waited a moment, then went to her. They spoke in a series of short squeaks and gurgles. He pointed to the humans, but she shook her head and squawked. He glared at her. She stretched her eye stalks toward his chin. He grunted and rejoined the group.

“The captain wishes me to express her feelings on this historic journey.”

“Doesn’t the translator work here?” Scott asked. He stood apart from the others, deflecting Dajdar’s tugs to bring him closer to the circle.

“The captain prefers to let me be the conduit for all communication. She will accompany us to the quarters we will share on the trip.”

The captain spun around and marched from the room. The ends of the shawl fluttered behind her. She paused at the door. Bozidar shrugged and followed.

The captain led them down three corridors, each one resembling the inside of a length of steel pipe. A narrow band of lights hugged the bottom of the wall where it curved into the floor. The first corridor had pink lights, the second orange, the third green. The third corridor also had rectangular panels etched into the wall at shoulder height for the captain and the renegades, waist height for Scott. The panels were different shades of green. She stopped at one that resembled unripe tomatoes and pressed the lower right corner. Door panels separated. She chittered at Bozidar and left, increasing her speed with each step.

Bozidar ushered them into the suite. When the panels closed behind them he said, “The captain does not wish to appear ungracious, but her duties require her attention.”

“Yeah, and the moon is made of green cheese,” Edna said.

“Really?” he asked. “Our surveys revealed it is made of rock.”

“Figure of speech,” Scott said. “What she means is it was obvious the captain hated us on sight. She couldn’t wait to get away.”

Bozidar sank into an upholstered bench attached to the wall. He cradled his head in his hands.

“Please don’t cry,” Cecily said, sitting next to him on the celery green bench. She patted his shoulder. “Tell us what’s really going on. We won’t take it personally.”

“The captain is a taupe,” he said. “She resents bringing her own kind back in shame. She resents me for exposing their secrets. And she resents you for being here at all. The taupes never willingly come in contact with off-worlders. Except in battle.”

“That explains a lot,” Edna said.

“If you don’t like having other species around, why build a ship that accommodates them?” Cecily asked. “The corridors, for instance, are much taller than they need to be. Even your transport pod is taller than it needs to be.”

“Do not judge the entire beige clan by the taupes. Many of us enjoy contact with other species. Most other species.”

“Keep talking, space boy, and I’ll show you what other species can do,” Edna said.

“Edna, dear,” Scott said as he led her to the observation wall. “Have you seen this view of space?”

The observation wall ran the length of the suite. Visible below was a section of hull that curved off like an infinity swimming pool. Above was a glittering gold sail that looked like smoothed out Christmas foil. In the distance, farther away than the mind could bear to consider, were twinkling lights and a soft blackness deeper than the richest velvet.

“I take it we’ll be staying here the entire trip?” Scott asked over his shoulder.

“Yes,” Bozidar said. He rose slowly. “How did you know?”

“It’s what I would do.” Scott scanned the room. “Your people went out of their way to make this room comfortable for us. The light is bluer than on the other ship, closer to the light on Earth. There is plenty of seating, lots of tables. I noticed a table in the dining hall that was just for us, so I suspect your quarters would look different.”

He crossed the room to a collection of panels halfway between the door and a corridor. “If I had to guess, this is for food. A replicator of some sort.” He pointed to the corridors at either end of the room. “And those lead to bedrooms. Did I miss anything?”

“There are cleansing stations in the sleeping quarters,” Bozidar said. “The rooms to your right are for humans, the ones down the corridor to your left are for Schtatikians. I suspect there are also entertainment cubicles tucked along the corridors.”

“So we’re prisoners,” Edna said.

“No,” Bozidar said. He opened his mouth, closed it. His shoulders drooped. “Yes.”

“You said the trip will take three days?” Cecily asked. When Bozidar nodded, she said, “I can take three days of house arrest. I still have work to do on the documentary. Did my stuff get moved here?”

“It should be in your sleeping quarters.”

Cecily leaped off the bench. “Come on, let’s see what they think humans want in the way of bedroom furnishings and bathroom supplies.”

“You two go,” Scott said. “I want to check out the replicator first. I could do with a little lunch.” He turned to the Mercon. “Feel free to relax. I don’t think you need to be on duty while we’re here.”

Mercon nodded, and tottered down the corridor. Rupon and Salia turned to Cecily, waited for her nod of assent, and followed Mercon. Dadjar remained, solid and silent.

“Really, I’ll be fine. And so will Edna,” Scott said. “Get some rest.”

Edna pointed to the corridor for humans. “I’m going down that way with my granddaughter, where we will squeal like guinea pigs over whatever we find. That’s a promise.”

Dajdar staggered back one step, then fled after his clan mates.

Scott bowed to Edna. “As always, my dear, you found the right incentive.”

She smiled, then turned to Bozidar. “That new ship smell Marsel mentioned - is it rosemary and lemon?”

Scott smacked his forehead. “No wonder I’m craving your Greek chicken soup. I didn’t recognize the scent.”

Bozidar cringed. “The odor does not come from the ship. It is the disinfectant we use.”

“Why are you embarrassed?” Cecily asked. “I think it’s nice that they wanted to protect us from germs.”

“They did not,” Bozidar said. “That particular disinfectant is to protect them from your germs.”

“Ah.” Cecily took Edna’s arm. “Come along, before green smoke starts coming out of your ears.”

***

“I could easily spend three weeks in this room,” Cecily said as she curled up in the jade green comforter stretched on her bed. “Three days will be a snap. This has to be the most luxurious place I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s still a cage, child.” Edna studied the view from the window. “The stars are gone. All I see are streaks. This must be faster-than-light travel.”

“Please don’t try to explain it.” Cecily rolled off the bed and shuffled to Edna’s side, clutching the comforter around her. “I like the streaks. They look like squiggly neon lights.”

The door panels opened and Scott entered carrying a tray of sandwiches. “Bozidar will be here as soon as the coffee is ready. He said we can use the communications system to call Susan any time we want. He’ll show us how it works.”

Cecily grabbed a sandwich and returned to the bed. “Does he know what time it will be back home? I don’t want to wake Mom in the middle of the night.”

“No, she wouldn’t thank you for that,” Edna said.

Bozidar arrived with a tray of cups. He set the tray on a low table with a clear top and delicate metal legs that ended in a shape resembling a maple leaf. “I overheard the last part of your conversation. The device can be programmed to consult local times before establishing a communications link.”

He moved an armchair upholstered in butternut silk from the console, raised the platform, and tapped a series of symbols. “The program to coordinate your calls with local time is running. I have also changed the interface to respond to voice commands from any of you.”

“Great,” Cecily said. She retrieved the chair and nudged Bozidar aside. “Computer, call home.”

The monitor remained dark and silent.

“I thought you said it would respond to my voice.”

“It will, but it must first recognize the command. The communications system is not named ‘computer’ and the device is not named ‘home.’ You must use the proper terms.”

Cecily glared at him. “You didn’t tell me what those terms are.”

“Just program the fool thing to recognize ‘call home’ and be done with it,” Edna said. “You techno-nerds are all alike.”

Bozidar ground his teeth and jabbed another symbol. The screen changed, and he continued jabbing as multi-colored squares, circles and squiggles scrolled by. “Try again.”

“Computer, call home,” Cecily said.

All the symbols flickered, then collapsed into a spinning ball on the screen. The ball pulsed once, twice, three times. Susan’s face appeared.

“Hello?” she said. “Is this outer space calling?”

“Mom! Can you see me?”

“Cecily? Is that you, sweetie? I can sort of hear you, but I can’t see you.”

“Allow me,” Bozidar said. “This is Bozidar. Pick up the box, and move the switch on the side from the bottom to the top. The sound quality should improve.”

Susan’s face disappeared, and the screen showed a view of the living room wall. “Oh, yes, there it is. Say something.”

“Hi, Mom.”

“That’s much better,” Susan said. Her face reappeared. “But I still can’t see you.”

“Is there a red triangle on the bottom left?” Bozidar asked.

“Yes.”

“Press it three times.”

Susan’s finger loomed in the corner of the screen. “Ah, perfect. Can you see me?”

“Yes, Mom, I can see you. Put the box on the coffee table, okay? I’m getting sea sick with you moving around.”

Edna leaned over Cecily’s shoulder. Scott pushed two stools with chocolate brown crushed velvet cushions to the console.

“Oh, you’re all there,” Susan said. “So, how’s the trip going? Are you enjoying space travel?” She put her fingertips to her mouth. “I can’t believe those words actually came out of my mouth.”

Cecily giggled. “Yeah, but isn’t it cool? We just started out, and we’re supposed to be there in three days. We can’t see the stars any more, just squiggly lines. They call the ship a stitch runner, and if you think of space like a ruffle, we’re the thread that gathers it up - ”

“Cecily, darling, too much information,” Susan said. “All I really want to know is that you’re okay, and no one is in trouble.”

Scott leaned toward the screen. “We’re all in one piece, they’re feeding us well, and your mother hasn’t caused an interstellar incident.”

“The day is young,” Edna said, “but they’re keeping us on a short leash.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Susan said.

“Come on, Mom, give us some credit. We’re even going to have lessons in how to behave at the ceremonies and stuff. We’re not going to have time to look for trouble.” Cecily smiled and patted Edna’s hand.

“I know you aren’t going to look for trouble,” Susan said. “It’s the trouble you don’t expect that worries me.”

“Have a little faith, daughter,” Edna said. “Nothing has gone wrong so far.”

“Like you said, Mom, the day is young.”