Ascending - James Alan Gardner [87]
Festina paused; there was no sign that Nimbus was listening. “You know our situation,” she said, still using a soft persuasive voice. “At this second, the Shaddill are out of commission, and unfriendly elements of the navy are far away…so we’ve got a window of opportunity to call for help from someone else. If we leave it too long, though, the Shaddill might get themselves repaired; and you can be damned sure the Admiralty has already dispatched one of their dirty-trick ships to track us down. Then there’s the added complication that we’ll soon use up all of our oxygen. Baby Starbiter may not care, since she’s designed to survive in space, but the rest of us are air-breathing. Including you, Nimbus. Sooner or later, you’re going to get woozy…which means you’ll pass out when your daughter needs you most, unless we call for help now.”
To me, this was excellent logic; but Nimbus remained stony in the face of Festina’s arguments. I wanted to poke him (quite gently, with a finger), but did not know how others would view such an action. Anyway, I doubted if prodding would have much effect—the cloud man appeared to be as unresponsive as granite. At last, Festina grimaced and stepped away from him.
“All right,” she said, “we aren’t accomplishing much here. Captain, any ideas to propose?”
The captain man, Mr. Kapoor, ran a hand through his almost nonexistent hair. “Just to go through the motions,” he said, “we should check ship’s stores, in case some spare parts didn’t get zapped. There’s a minuscule chance we can throw together a makeshift communicator—at least something good enough to send a public SOS.”
“Very well,” Festina told him, “let’s hope we’re lucky. And while you’re doing that, I’ll make a quick run around the ship and gather the rest of the crew. Where’s the best place for them to assemble? Down near the storerooms?”
Kapoor nodded. “That’s as good as any.”
“Fine, Captain, carry on. Oh, and please send two people to Dr. Havel in the main computer room. He’s got a casualty who’ll need to be transported someplace safe.”
“Aye-aye, Admiral.”
The captain moved his hand in a manner reminiscent of a salute (provided one had a high capacity for reminiscing). As he and his collection of crew members moved off down the hallway, Festina turned to Uclod, Lajoolie, and me. “One of us should stay with Nimbus,” she said. “To talk to him if he decides to come out of his shell.”
“I shall do that,” I said. As his somewhat-sister, it was my obligation to attend to the cloud man’s needs; and of course, to berate him for his churlish behavior as soon as nonfamily persons had departed the room.
“I’ll stay too,” Lajoolie piped up hastily, speaking with uncharacteristic urgency. She must have believed I might do the cloud man an injury if left alone with him…which just goes to show what unjust suspicions arise when one conducts oneself in a Forthright Manner.
Festina turned to Uclod. “What about you? Do you want to stay here or come with me for a once-around-the-ship?”
The little man threw a glance at Lajoolie, then turned back to Festina. “I’ll go with you. Uncle Oh-God would rip off my ears if I let you go wandering with no one to watch your back.”
He reached out quickly, grabbed Lajoolie’s hand, and gave it a quick squeeze. Then he and Festina vanished out the door, leaving the rest of us on our own.
17
WHEREIN I AM SWALLOWED BY DARKNESS
Alone In The Dark
If you have been paying attention—and for your sake, I hope you have, so when persons of High Social Standing accost you in the street, saying, “Have you read Oar’s book?” you will be able to answer, “Yes, especially the part where she and Lajoolie were left alone with Nimbus”—if you have been paying attention, you will realize our party had only possessed two glow-wands. One belonged to the captain, the other to my friend Festina; therefore, when the captain departed in one direction and Festina went the other, Lajoolie and I were left with a conspicuous absence of light.
Also a conspicuous absence